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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

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In a Heartbeat - Seven

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Injuries, Fluff, Fluff, FLUFF

Word Count: 4.1K

A/n: Here she is! Part seven! I’m gonna write a little epilogue but the fic can very well end here! I love this series with my whole heart and soul omg

Series Masterlist

~*~

He’s numb.

So damn numb.

Nothing even matters. His ears are ringing, the bright lights bouncing off the linoleum floors are fucking with his eyes but he doesn’t care because you’ve been in the operating room for hours and all he wants is to see you, to make sure you’re okay.

No one’s said a single thing to him about whether or not you’re okay, and it’s taking all of his self-control not to break down that door and see for himself.

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts and bringing him back to the loud sounds of the waiting room.

He furrows his brows at Steve, confused out of his mind until he sees Tommy in his other arm, head resting against his father's shoulder and a casted arm hanging limply at his side.

“Hey Tommy, how you feeling?” The brunet asks, his voice rough and hoarse with lack of use.

The six-year-old only whimpers softly in response, burrowing further into his father’s neck.

“He’s okay. Doctor’s got him on some painkillers. Said it was a clean break from pounding on that window.” Bucky stands up, rubbing his nephew on the back. “You’re a hero, buddy. Just like your daddy.” Tommy sniffles and nods, the sight breaking the man’s heart.

“You should head home for the night, Buck. Shower, rest, then come back in the morning.” He clenches his jaw and swallows hard, shaking his head.

“I-I can’t, Steve. What if... what if she comes out and I’m not here? Or what if...” He trails off, not even wanting to entertain the idea of the other option.

“I saw Nat on her way down here. Ask her for an update and then go home. You’ve had a long day. And when she’s out of surgery she's gonna be upset to see that you’ve exhausted yourself out here in the waiting room.” Steve has a point. Both men are still in their fire gear, having rushed to the hospital directly from the fire.

It’s after midnight now.

“I’m taking Tommy home. Take care of yourself tonight, Buck. If not for you, then for her.” He nods, eyes on the floor as the blond leaves, his son curled up against his side.

“Barnes? You’re still here?” He looks up at the sound of Natasha’s voice, desperation evident on his face as she walks over to him.

“I’ve got no update other than she’s unstable and that they’re doing everything they can. It’ll be another few hours before she’s out of surgery and even then, she’s going straight to the ICU and won’t be awake for at least a day or so.” He lets out a terribly shaky breath but nods, rubbing his eyes then pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Y-you’ll call if there are any updates, right? I’m just gonna pop home and shower and sleep for a few hours but I'll be back first thing in the morning.” She nods, taking his hand and squeezing tightly.

“I’m off for the rest of the night, so I’ll be sticking around bugging the nurses for updates whenever I can. Might even bribe an intern with good coffee, not this hospital shit.” Bucky chuckles softly, shaking his head.

“Okay.” He takes a step towards the exit then hesitates, looking back at the redhead for a. moment. “Do you think she’s gonna make it?” He asks, his voice soft and broken and nearly lost among the sea of people.

Natasha swallows hard and avoids his eyes, taking a deep breath before answering.

“The doctors are doing everything they can.” A rehearsed answer. An answer she gives to relatives to let them know that they shouldn’t expect much.

He says nothing, only gives her a firm nod, then turns and leaves the hospital.

Hot droplets of water rain down on him, washing away the stench of smoke and the physical reminder of the events of the day. But no heat and no water pressure will wash away the sorrow in his soul. The absolute unadulterated fear that grips his bones and seeps into his bloodstream. That is something that won’t be washed away by any amount of water and suds.

His movements are mechanical, scrub, rinse, dry, dress.

The sleep that finds him is restless and fitful, filled with nightmares that will haunt him for nights to come. Every thought, both waking and otherwise, are occupied by you. Your face, your smile, your laugh, and the thought that he may never experience any of them again.

He's back at the hospital at six-thirty, coffee in his metal hand because his flesh one is shaking too much.

Just as he’s walking to the reception desk, he sees Natasha walking towards the waiting room. Her face is unreadable when she sees him, but he notices her take a deep breath.

“What is it?” He asks, not bothering with pleasantries.

“She’s out of surgery. She’s still unstable, hasn’t woken up yet, but she’s been out for about three hours. She probably won’t wake up until this evening.” He takes a few deep breaths then nods, a bubble of relief hugging him tenderly.

“Where is she?” Nat sighs and turns on her heel, leading him towards your room.

“James, I’m not going to sugar coat this for you. She’s not doing well. There’s still a fair chance that she won’t wake up.” She stops, looking up at him with vulnerability in her eyes, tears brimming.

“What is it?” He’s nervous, his heart feels like it’s going to explode.

“They’re saying she needs a transplant. That her heart won’t last for much longer and if she wants any hope of surviving more than a couple years, she’ll need a new heart.”

The air leaves his lungs in a whoosh, almost as if someone punched him in the gut. He stumbles back a step, coffee dropped and hands coming to the tops of his thighs as he hunches over, trying to catch his breath.

“That’s a best-case scenario. Worst case is she... well... we should’ve said our goodbyes. But she’s strong. She’ll pull through. She has to pull through.” That last part is whispered so softly that the brunet almost misses it.

“Nat,” his voice breaks, it cracks and splinters and shatters in pieces on the linoleum that he doesn’t have the energy to pick up. He can’t pick himself back up. Not if you might not wake up. He just can’t.

“Sit down, c’mon.” She helps him lean back against the wall, sliding down until he’s seated, arms draped over his knees and his head hanging heavily between them.

He can’t breathe.

A sick voice in his head screams that this is what you must’ve been feeling, this terrible tightness in your chest, this inability to draw in a single damn breath. It’s unbearable and for just a moment he realizes he wouldn’t blame you if you gave up, if you just let it take you. But he shakes that thought from his head and instead focuses on you fighting. You need to fight. If you can pull through, then they can find you a new heart and you’ll be okay.

You’re going to be okay.

You have to be okay.

~*~

Everything feels still. Dry. Bland.

If you could pin it to a colour, that colour would be beige.

Everything feels beige.

You’ve been awake for a little while now, gathering your bearings and trying to remember what happened. The last thing you remember is the fire bell... Wanda telling you not to go... and then running back into the building to find Tommy.

Tommy.

Your heart picks up in speed, pain flaring through your chest at the action, and an alarm starts beeping rapidly.

It takes only seconds for the door to open, nurses and doctors flooding into the room and checking the various machines around you while you grab at the front of your hospital gown uselessly, trying to alleviate the pain.

“(Y/n), I need you to take a big breath with me, okay?” A doctor says, her brown eyes focused on yours. You nod, inhaling with her for a moment then exhaling. You do this a few times and the machine gradually stops, your heart slowing as whatever they injected into your bloodstream takes effect.

Nurses slowly trickle out, leaving just you and the doctor.

“Well, you sure know how to make an entrance,” she says with a smile, looking over your chart.

“What can I say, Doc? I’ve got a flair for the dramatic.” Your voice is weak, far weaker than it should be, and that alone scares you.

She chuckles softly, smiling at your words before tucking the chart under her arm and looking at you straight on.

“You being alive right now is an absolute miracle,” she says softly, taking a step towards the bed then motioning to the chair beside it, asking wordlessly if she can take a seat.

You nod, taking a few deep breaths as you prepare to hear whatever news she has for you.

“Your heart stopped twice on the way to the hospital, and the second time we almost couldn’t get it going again. Your heart is weak, and what you endured nearly ruptured your left atrium and you had severe lacerations of your ventricles. It is most comparable to a very severe heart attack, and you’re lucky to have survived.”

She doesn’t look like she’s delivering good news. No, she should be happy if you’re lucky to have survived. That fact alone puts you on edge.

“What is it? What... what’s wrong with my heart now?” You know it can’t be good judging only by the look on her face. It’s a look you’ve seen far too many times.

“With the rate you’re going, your heart will give out completely in three or four years. And it won’t be a pleasant process. You’ll be in pain, bedridden and hospitalized because you won’t be able to move. The only alternative is a transplant.” The world around you shifts from beige to grey, the clouds dark and the room sorrowful.

Your ears start ringing, loud and painfully and it takes everything in you not to rip them right off.

“S-so that’s it then? I’m gonna die in three years if I’m lucky? I’ve only got three years left?” She sighs and looks down at her hands, “the only other option would be to put you on a waiting list for a new heart, but we cannot guarantee that you’ll get it in time, but it’s worth a shot.” You shake your head, tears falling from your eyes and splattering on the ugly blue hospital blanket.

“I don’t want a new heart! I don’t want to go through a process and get my hopes up over something that I won’t get in time.” You sniffle and shove your face in your hands, the steady beeping of the machine next to you making you want to cry even harder.

“I’ll give you some time, (Y/n).” The doctor gets up and leaves, a sad look on her face as she turns to the pair waiting anxiously outside your door.

Natasha pushes herself to her feet, her eyes wide with curiosity and desperation.

“I recommend you give her space. She’s... processing everything,” Doctor Palmer says softly, giving Natasha a sad smile before walking away to handle her other patients.

Nat exchanges looks with Bucky then slowly walks to the door.

“Just give me a minute to see how she’s doing, okay? I’ll tell her you’re out here waiting, I just wanna see if she needs anything.” He takes a deep breath but nods, understanding that Natasha would be able to tell, if only from a medical standpoint, what you need.

You keep your face in your hands, tears wetting your palms, as the door opens again.

“Beans?” Nat’s voice makes you stiffen, sniffling and wiping your eyes before peeking up at her.

Her heart shatters in her chest at the sight of you.

Skin dull, eyes heavy and sunken. She’s seen a lot of sick people before but never would she have put you in the same category as them. Now though? Now, you look the part.

“I uh... I heard the news. Bugged the nurses for updates and they finally caved.”

Your bottom lip wobbles and then a sob bubbles out of your chest.

Nat’s face falls and she slides onto the bed beside you, pulling you into a tight embrace while you sob.

“Oh beans,” she whispers, smoothing your hair away from your face.

“I don’t want a new heart!” You cry, tears soaking her shirt. She hugs you, holds you tightly while you cry out your frustrations, your sorrows.

It’s agony.

She has so many questions, so much she wants to say, but she knows better.

She holds her tongue, wanting you to be in a better headspace before she talks to you about your options. It’s too soon. The wound is too fresh.

Bucky sits impatiently outside of the room the whole time, leg bouncing and flesh fingers trembling.

Natasha comes out of your room a short while later, sniffling and wiping at her cheeks.

“What’s happening? Is she okay?” The redhead nods, taking a few deep breaths.

“I’ve seen a lot of sick people, Barnes. A lot of them. But seeing her... seeing my friend so weak and tiny...” She shakes her head, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“I’m scared, Buck.” Bucky pulls her into a hug, his own breaths shaking.

“It's okay. It’s gonna be okay.” She sniffles again then speaks, “she’s asleep again. She should be good to see you the next time she wakes up though. I’m sure she misses you.” He squeezes his eyes shut but nods, trying to mentally prepare himself to see you in such a fragile state.

~*~

Bucky doesn’t know how to feel.

He doesn’t even want to feel.

Helpless.

That’s the word that sums it up the best.

Seeing you on that hospital bed, tubes attached to your face, arms, and chest, he feels absolutely helpless.

“Hey,” he murmurs, smiling gently when you look up from your book.

“Bucky... Hi.” Your voice is raspy and hoarse, and he has to take a few shaky breaths to stop from crying.

“You mind if I sit?” You shake your head, motioning to the chair beside your bed.

He takes a seat and looks at you closely, his eyes welling up with tears.

“How ya feelin, pretty girl?” You huff a breath out through your nose then shrug, trying your hardest to stay strong in front of him.

“I uh... I’ve been better, I gotta say.” He chuckles weakly then nods, sniffling and dropping his gaze for a moment.

“Nat uh... Nat told me what the doctors said. About your heart and stuff. That’s... intense.” It’s not the best word but it’s the only one he can find.

You blow a breath out through your mouth and nod.

“It’s scary,” you whisper, not looking up from your hands even when he takes them in his.

“I’m scared. I don’t want to be put on a waiting list only to not get one in time. And there are people who need a new heart more than I do. People who want one more than I do.” He furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“What do you mean, you don’t want a new heart? Why wouldn’t you want one?”

You sigh heavily, “because, James. This is my heart. It’s the heart that I’ve lived with for my whole life. I don’t want a new one because this one is mine. This is the one that’s dealt with heartbreaks and betrayals. This is the one that’s gotten me through the bad days and the good. And this is the one that chose you. I don’t want a different one. I wanna keep this one. And don’t you dare tell me that my days are numbered if I keep this one because my days are numbered regardless.”

You finally look up at him, fire in your eyes as you express everything that’s been going on in your mind.

“We’re all gonna die someday, and it may not be the way we expect or the way we want, and we won’t ever be fully ready for it. But it’s gonna happen. I’d much rather know that I spent my life doing what I wanted on my terms. If my days are numbered, I'd rather enjoy them than spend them waiting for a heart I may never get. My heart’s still got a few years left in it. Careful years, yeah, but years no less.”

Tears stain his cheeks and he nods, sniffling twice then pressing a kiss to your hands.

“I’m not going to try and change your mind, Doll. The choice is completely yours and no matter what you decide to do, I’ll stay by your side through all of it, I promise. You’re my girl, my best girl, my only girl, and I want you to do what’s best for you.” You squeeze your eyes shut, having mentally prepared yourself for him to put up a fight, not for him to be so supportive of your decision.

“I love you, (Y/n). And I’m gonna cherish every fucking moment that you let me spend with you because I love you. I thought,” he pauses, pulling a hand back to scrub the tears off of his cheeks only for more to fall.

“I thought I’d lose you before getting a chance to truly tell you. But I’m not gonna waste any more time because life is a precious gift. I love you, (Y/n). So much. To the fucking ends of the Earth. I love you and I don't want a day to go by where you don’t know just how much I love you.”

You whimper, his confession making warmth spread through your body and tears rain down your cheeks.

“I-I love you too, James. With every ounce of my heart, I love you. And I don't want to let you down and I never want to hurt you.” He closes his eyes, content to bask in the weight of your words for a moment longer, a private, intimate moment.

He eventually settles his head on the bed next to your hip, and your fingers find their way into his luscious brown locks, twirling the thick strands around mindlessly.

“When are you getting discharged?” He asks, his voice muffled by the bed.

“I’m not sure yet. Doctor Palmer said she wants to keep me here for at least another week or so to monitor my heart and take me off the medication, and then maybe some more time after that depending on how weak I am.” He nods, nuzzling against you some more.

“I’m not going back to work ‘till you’re out,” he says matter-of-factly.

You only giggle, shaking your head.

“James, that’s not even plausible. You’ve got bills to pay. Besides, you’ll get tired of being here. I’m gonna spend most of my time sleeping or bugging the nurses for some real food.” He lifts his head, eyes full of vulnerability.

“I just don't wanna leave you and then...” He trails off but you understand his concern.

“I’m gonna be okay. Doctor Palmer says I’m doing okay. I’m sure Nat will continue bugging her for updates and she’ll let you know if there’s anything concerning happening. But I’m gonna be fine, I swear.” He watches you for a moment longer before nodding and pressing his head against your thigh.

A thought bubbles into your mind and you tug gently on his hair to get his attention.

“What happened to Tommy?” You ask, voice tight and filled with apprehension.

Bucky only smiles gently.

“Lil guy’s a hero. He busted that window open, that’s how we found you two. Broke his arm but he’s okay. Says he looks like me so he likes it.” A smile finds its way onto your face at the idea of Tommy looking up to his uncle so much.

“He’s already gotten everyone at the firehouse to sign it, and I’m sure when he’s back to school he’ll get everyone there to sign it too. But the lil guy’s a hero. Gonna make a good firefighter.” You nod, mind flashing back to those last few moments in the school.

“I was so scared, James. I-I couldn’t protect him and I didn’t know what to do.” He reaches up and strokes your cheek gently, shushing you softly.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. It’s okay. Everyone’s okay.” You take a few deep breaths and nod, trying to calm down before your heart rate picks up too much.

“You need to worry about yourself, and not everyone else. Focus on getting better, okay? And then, when you’re ready, I’m gonna take you out on a date and show you just how much you can enjoy life, okay?”

You nod, smiling at him.

“Okay.”

~*~

“Miss (Y/l/n)!” Tommy runs at you full speed, nearly knocking you over when he barrels into your legs.

Bucky’s quick to steady you, opening his mouth to reprimand his nephew but you stop him, raising a hand to cut him off.

“Hey, Tommy! How’s my little superhero feeling?” He pulls back and smiles up at you.

“I got another cast so now my arm looks just like uncle Bucky’s!” You glance at the new blue cast and smile brightly.

“Look at that! And you’re a hero just like him too, huh?” He nods excitedly then digs around in his pocket for a moment.

“Here!” He hands you a sharpie then points to a blank space on his cast.

“I made sure to leave room for you to sign it!” Your face softens and you crouch down in front of him, signing your name and drawing a small picture.

“Thank you, Tommy.” He nods, glancing over his shoulder as his dad calls his name.

“C’mon Tommy! You gonna help us move or are you gonna help miss (Y/l/n) get organized?” He looks between you and his dad then runs over to the moving truck, excitedly grabbing whatever his little arms can carry then bringing them into the house.

Bucky wraps an arm around your waist and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“You ready?” You look up at your new house, then over at him, nodding without hesitation.

“Absolutely.”

The moving process is long and tedious, and after seven hours of lifting, unboxing, cleaning, and organizing, you’re about ready to call it a day.

“Pizza’s on its way, and Nat ran out to grab some beers,” Bucky says, coming up into the master bedroom. Concern immediately colours his features as he sees the way you’re sitting. You’re on the bed, hunched over with one hand on your mouth and the other on your lower abdomen.

“(Y/n)?” He asks, coming to a crouch in front of you and trying to get a look at your face.

You take a few deep breaths then nod, opening your eyes and offering him a weak smile.

“You okay?” You nod again but he seems unconvinced.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You take a deep breath and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I uh.. not really. I wanted to tell you in a better way but I guess this is as good as it’s going to get.” His heart is in his throat, absolutely terrified of what you’re going to tell him.

You’ve been going to the doctor a lot more frequently, and your energy levels have plummeted.

He knew you didn’t have time left but it hasn’t even been six months since the fire.

You pull his hand to your stomach and rest it there gently, eyes finding his as you wait for it to click.

He stares at his hand in confusion, that confusion melting away as he realizes what you’re telling him.

“Wait, are you...?” His eyes are wide, eyebrows raised and heart pounding.

You only nod, tears welling up in your eyes as he launches up and wraps his arms around your frame.

“Oh my god. Oh my god! I’m gonna be a dad!” You giggle wetly, tears of joy falling and getting soaked up by his shirt.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” He pulls back, hands on your small baby bump.

“How far along are you?” He asks, cradling the bump delicately between his hands.

“About three months. And the doctor said that they’ve already got a birth plan ready, and different pills for me to take to calm my heart.” His glossy eyes look up at you, so full of love and adoration.

“I can’t believe it. I...” he stops, leaning in the gently kiss your lips then pulls you into another tight embrace.

“Thank you, (Y/n). Thank you.”

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 314: ...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

Previously on BnHA: Some random assholes were all “let’s throw exploding spears at All Might and see if it activates his Conqueror’s Haki” and SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS, IT DID!! Elsewhere, Lady Nagant confusingly tried to capture Deku alive by shooting him in the stomach, but to be fair I guess that’s what happens when you send an assassin to do a bounty hunter’s job, so yeah. Deku was all “ouch”, and then because this is a shounen he basically just straight up forgot about it, and did a big fancy Smokescreen thing, and then activated his mildly incomprehensible new ki-blasting quirk which he got from the Third. En and the Third were all “hey Deku maybe let’s not just impulsively activate all this shit in the heat of battle when you don’t know how to use it yet and you’re already injured,” and Deku was all “thanks for the quirks guys but I’ll take it from here” and snuck up on Nagant and grabbed her arm and so now what’s going to happen I wonder.

Today on BnHA: Nagant is all “[shoots Deku again]” because of course she is lol. Deku is all “tell me about AFO!” and Nagant is all “why would I tell you anything?” and then proceeds to tell him her entire life story which is FILLED WITH SO MUCH MURDER, YOU GUYS. Holy shit. So basically she was an assassin for the HPSC, which we already knew, but somehow it’s one thing to know that, and another to actually see her running around capping dudes in the forehead and being covered in more blood than the elevator from The Shining. Anyway, so you’ll never believe it, but all that murder had a negative impact on her psychologically, and eventually led her to question everything she believed about hero society, and so she killed her creepy boss and was promptly sent to Tartarus. This extremely fun chapter ends with Overhaul showing up all “HI, HELLO, I’M STILL HERE”, because for some reason he is still here. Why are you still here, Overhaul.

“the beautiful Lady Nagant” oh you know your audience don’t you Horikoshi

well all right then! so I’m guessing this means that she is not, in fact, going to roll over and die just because Deku’s out here all “GOT YA!” like they’re playing a game or tag or something. ffff may the manga gods have mercy on our young suicidal protagonist

lmao so Deku is all “GOD I’M SO SMART, WHAT A GOOD STRATEGY I HAD, CAPITOL JOB THERE OL’ CHAP, CAPITOL” and lol, okay. I mean, it was a good plan though. but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop here

“I’ll make you give me information on All for One” well there you go, lol. Deku Angst arc still fully engaged. still no light in his eyes either of course. just a lil chaotic ball of sleep deprivation and rage

lol, fucking THANK YOU though

oh my god what the hell did she do to him lol

did she shoot him with her elbow??? fucking look at this?? THIS IS WHY WE LISTEN TO HAWKS oh my god Deku are you dead

WHAT’S HAPPENING, IS THIS GOOD OR BAD, WHO’S WINNING

things that I wish I could tell from this panel which I unfortunately cannot tell

did she stab him or shoot him?? can you imagine if it was the former lol. why does Horikoshi keep stabbing all my kids. look Kacchan now the two of you can match

did she actually hit him or did he get away??

or did she hit him and then he jumped away?? just, what

well anyway, so now Deku is asking her why she sided with AFO, but he seems a lot more pissed off than when he was interrogating Muscular, though. probably because she shot him three times. fair enough

oh my god

does Lady have a blog here on tumblr dot com?? -- does Horikoshi have a blog here on tumblr motherfucking dot com?? why do I suddenly feel like this man is out here sneakily reading up on all our discourse

oh my god Deku it’s almost like getting up close and personal with someone who can shoot custom bullets from any distance and any position with deadly accuracy was a terrible fucking idea

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD WARNED YOU NOT TO ENGAGE WITH HER AT ALL COSTS. IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD HAD THE FORESIGHT TO DO THAT sob. can you imagine how much shorter this series would be if characters actually listened to Hawks. Hawks, and Momo. why do we even let anyone else run the show ever

OH MY GOD

DEKU, RUN

OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

this looks a lot like what happens to me whenever I play One’s Justice. those fucking combo attacks that you can’t fucking escape from and so your character just has to stand there getting their ass whalloped repeatedly while you wonder why you paid $40 for this

but anyways though. so Lady who did you kill?? I bet they deserved it, don’t worry I forgive you

(ETA: ANYWAY SO FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT LADY NAGANT DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. aside from murdering all those innocent people and shit. but there were CIRCUMSTANCES, and THEY WERE EXTENUATING, OKAY.)

-- holy shit

looks like the HPSC arc is back on the menu boys

so are we about to learn that the HPSC was going full Hydra on people’s asses? secretly dispatching anyone they deemed a threat to society?? “taken care of” as in you fucking shot them??

so then was the “hero” she killed actually one of the guys who was giving or carrying out these orders?? holy shit Lady, up until now I’ve mainly just been stanning you for your flawless eyebrow game and metal af quirk, but this shit could actually get real very quickly, and I am prepared to genuinely and sincerely love the shit out of you depending on what we learn next about your backstory

oh my god?!?

so wait, hold up. am I reading this right?? basically the HPSC started murdering vigilantes because they were worried they were gaining too much of the public’s favor?? holy fucking shit???

oh my GOD oh my god

“it’s been a while since I scarred you all with the dead dog and the graphic slaughter of an entire innocent family, huh,” Horikoshi says thoughtfully. “anyway so what do you all think of my new creation, the Spaghetti Bullet.” well, Horikoshi, so you know that squished-up face that Kermit the Frog makes sometimes? yeah. that’s what I think, if you must know lol

holy hell the juxtaposition

I’m actually kind of surprised to learn she had a lot of fans? what with her M.O., I was expecting her to have been an underground hero like Aizawa, but apparently not? then again I still have absolutely no idea how any of that works. I really need to read Vigilantes already

oh snap

nothing like a sweet dose of assassin trauma to finally round out our BnHA Trauma Bingo!! well done guys, we finally collected all of the traumas! hooray!

noooo Ladyyyyyyy

holy shit what a fucking chapter. like, this man promised us an assassin, and went and fucking delivered. I was not expecting it to be this dark, lol, but holy shit I am here for it

you know, at some point you have to start questioning the logistics of this, though

I mean, how do I put this... her quirk isn’t exactly subtle. that murder scene from a few pages back looked like the first season of Dexter for fuck’s sake, that’s not exactly “disappearing” people now is it?? and I mean, her bullets are literally made from her own fucking hair; it seems like it would be impossible not to leave any evidence behind. did no one start to wonder who the fuck was going around murdering all these people? or did the people who asked too many questions wind up getting conveniently “disappeared” themselves??

and hey, speaking of asking too many questions

holy shit is he blackmailing her??!? or no, wait -- what the hell is he reaching for in his pocket boy you better not

(ETA: what exactly was this man expecting fdslkjd. “uh oh my unstoppable hair trigger assassin who is literally always armed is asking questions, better announce that I am going to shoot her and then reach into my pocket veeeeeery slowly while she stands there all of two feet away.” how did this guy ever function as the head of a shadow government with these decision-making skills, I’m genuinely baffled.)

OH MY GOD LADY YES

this. right here. is why “run the fuck away” was damn good solid fucking advice. oh shit. but my god did this dude have it coming

so wait lol has she just been narrating all of this out loud to Deku this entire time

okay but can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that they’re having this deep conversation about the dark secrets of hero society right in the middle of their intense mid-air sniper free-for-all lol

holy shit you guys, Nagant’s the one that should have made the tell-all video. I mean, no offense to you, Dabi, I’m sure you worked very hard on your video and did a ton of crunches every day so that you would look good with your shirt off while you told the world all about how your dad was a jerk. but seriously...

this is already like 100x more convincing than what he put out. also, gasp, is it another flashback

yes it is oh my gosh

so the HPSC Chairladyperson whom ReDestro killed used to be this guy’s direct subordinate, huh? I wonder if she kept the whole assassin program going after she took over. can’t say I was feeling any particular kind of grieving way about her death before, but certainly not now lol

but unfortunately Nagant has finally lost me at the same place where all of the villains inevitably do, which is to say when they somehow make the dubious mental leap from “society sucks and is bad” to “let’s just be openly fucking evil lol, worth a shot.” because when heroes murder innocent people and cover it up, that’s obviously bad (and I mean, it absolutely fucking is lol, don’t get me wrong); but when villains murder innocent people straight up out in the open without giving a fuck, they’re righteous revolutionaries? just -- is there really no non-murdery middle ground here?? I guess that’s what Deku and co. are for, hopefully

anyways oh shit Deku seems to have spotted something?? and he’s doing something weird with Blackwhip what

oh, he spotted her, I guess

lmaooooo

new favorite Deku panel right here. a masterpiece

oh my god you guys our little boy is starting to grow up before our eyes

you love to see it. and you can tell with those elipses that he’s gearing up to say something really cool and determined and badass like the shounen protag he is, yes please, Deku ilu so much please do your thing

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

IS THAT A TEENY TINY LIL EYE SPARKLE THERE OMG. still not anywhere close to his usual standard, but that’s some clear resolve there in his eyes there at long last! it always shines the most clearly when he’s being true to himself and his ideals, so I love that it finally shows up again here, when he’s reaffirming his resolve to help others no matter what

uh oh so what’s Lady going to do now

is it time for a trump card?? kinda sounding like it’s time for a trump card

???

I lied btw, this is my new favorite Deku panel. but anyways what is she up to now lol

ohhhhhh, lol

why does she seem shocked, lol. here I thought this was part of her plan, but apparently she forgot all about ol’ “Look Ma, No Hands” back up there

and so I guess that’s it for this week! so we’ve learned basically everything now about Lady and her quirk and her history with the HPSC and why she agreed to work for AFO. pretty much the only question that still remains is why the hell she decided to drag this asshole along for the ride! because I still cannot figure that out dsklkjlkf

(ETA: actually now I’m kind of wondering if they maybe have some past connection we don’t know about yet. when exactly was Nagant sent to Tartarus? is it possible she was ordered to track down and kill Overhaul at some point before that, but never got around to it? or something else along those lines? idk but now I’m curious.)

anyways Deku, I know that your empathy has no bounds and that you’re on a “saving villains” kick right now, and good on you... but also, if you decide to just like, skip all of that shit just this once, absolutely no one will hold it against you, I’m just saying. just, all I’m asking here is maybe let’s think twice before we start trying to reform guys who imprison and torture little girls for profit. I think maybe that’s a good place to draw the line. next week is going to be a very interesting chapter lol

#bnha 314 #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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softcallofdutyimagines · 3 years

Note

any safehouse crew x bell!reader headcanons? can be fluffy or angsty, whichever you prefer to write 🥺 i adore your work!

Aw, thank you!! Yeah, I'd love to share to some headcannons! These are sort of a mixed bag regarding fluff/angst, but I think they're mostly nicey-nicey :)

Sorry for your wait, but I hope you enjoy 💖

Adler

His relationship with you is such a tangled mess

He shouldn't even be doing this, not after all he's done to you and is still doing, but...

He just can't help but fall for you

Your memories of being with him during the war may be fake, but to you they're all too real

You know him better then anyone else, maybe even more then Sims

This whole thing started because you wanted to get to know him, to fill in the gaps and to continue growing the bond that only exists in your mind

Every day he struggles with the knowledge that what he's doing is wrong, along with the constant badgering about it from Hudson, Sims, and Park

But he's never felt this close, let alone wanted, by someone in his entire life

There'll come a day when the lid blows right off all this and explodes in his face for sure

Just... Not yet, he hopes

Hudson

If there's one person here who should not be getting involved with you... It's him

Adler and Park may be your handlers, but he's the one overseeing the entire operation

You wouldn't even be here if he hadn't passed down the orders from the higher ups

If there's nothing else you take away from this, he would have you know that there is much, much more at risk here then his mere job if he was found messing around with you

Hudson tried everything to resist you

You and your charming voice

You and your beguiling looks

You and your kindness and patient soul

His will was strong, but the flesh is oh so weak

No one has ever treated him like you do

Just an ounce of respect and a surprising, never ending stream of kindness...

What else is a lonely man to do?

Adler and Park know nothing, this is a term you both agreed on

And they never will, because as soon as your work here is done...

He will stop at nothing to keep you safe

Lazar

He knows, he knows...

He should be doing this

But damn it if you aren't just so... Loveable

Lazar has a big heart that just bursting at the seams with love to give

You'd think such a friendly fellow would be popular in the dating pools, but...

It would seem not so

He'll be honest, he was going to make moves towards Park...

Mostly because, between the two of you, she wasn't strictly off limits

But you were his first choice

And when Helen shut him down, well...

Why not at least try?

He never expected you to actually take to him

He deals with constant reprimands, but he dismisses them every time

No one knows what it's like to be so full of love and have no one to give it too

And now that he has you...

He'll be damned if anyone tries to take you away from him

Mason

Geez... All Mason wants is a stable relationship with someone who loves him and has the grit to see past his flaws

He's been taking his meds and seeing his psych, but the numbers and mind jacking still bother him

In fact, they very well might for the rest of his life

He feels so broken

So unlovable and far too damaged to even be an option for anyone else out there

So... Why are you so interested in him?

At first he brushes it off as a star struck kid, and maybe, at first it was, but then...

Things start to get serious

He meet up with you after work hours

You both get to talking and relating to one another through your memories of warfare and the current mission

You tell him you've seen plenty of things just as crazy as what's going on with him, and people that are twice that bad

He doesn't scare you, not one bit

Acceptance is all he's ever wanted, and to have found it in you feels better then anything he ever could've dreamed of

He falls for you so hard, he rarely let's you out of his sight and tries to get on as many of your missions as possible

Park

This whole op is a well oiled machine and she's the one driving it

Hudson and Adler may act like they're in charge, but they'd be nothing without her helping to hold them and you in line

She's a woman of rules, decorum, and conduct

There's a way to do things and a way not to, simple as that

And yet for all that, she still cannot understand how she's fallen in with you

She should be holding you at arms length at best, and yet here she is stealing kisses and playing with your hair when no one is looking

Maybe she's too much of a sucker for a good forbidden romance story

Or maybe there's always been something in you that's spoken to her from the beginning

A certain way you carry and conduct yourself

So brave and strong...

The kind of person she aspires to be, deep down...

Soon she starts saying things like "what's the worst that could happen" and "no one has to know"

And before long, she knows she could never let you go

When this mission is over, she swears to set you free from the mental prison and living hell she helped put you in, no matter the outcome for your relationship

She loves you too much to see you suffer

Sims

He has the exact same problem as Adler

You know him too damn well

Except... You don't really know him at all, huh?

It takes him so long to wrap his mind around that one...

But the more and more you keep coming to him, asking about things like 'Nam and his time in the war...

The more and more that line becomes muddled

How much have you been programmed to know, and how much did you learn naturally, just from getting to know him?

It's hard being a Vietnam vet you know...

Everyone blames you for the loss of the war, and no one wants much to do with a soldier in general, he guesses

Too much of a headache when you could just get a nice, normal person, right?

But old Vietnam vets get lonely too you know...

So you know what? Who gives a damn

This whole thing with you and mk ultra was screwed from the start, and who knows where the end will take you

If nothing else, if not even for his own benefit, he may as well give you the respect enough to enjoy a little fling

He treats it seriously. Very seriously.

He even grows to truly love you

Maybe that's why he's so scared for you

Woods

Here's a man who'd go his whole life proclaiming he'll never settle down and had no interest in doing so

He's a lone wolf, a life long solider, and far too fucked up for a stable relationship anyhow

At least... That's what he'll say

The truth is he yearns for what Mason and Hudson have

A happy little family and cozy home to protect and care for

He wants to feel needed, wanted even

And he'll never get that from long hours at the practice range and lonely weekend nights spent in his living room

He takes the same approach as Mason would at first

He brushes you off as a starry eyed fan and nothing more

But you know... He's never had anyone care enough to be a "fan" before

Alex laughs at him and keeps saying he's letting his ego get to his head, but what the fuck does he know?

He's got all that shit with the numbers and reznov stuck in his head, and yet he still has someone to go home to each night

So he does it, he gets involved with you

And it's the best damn feeling in the whole world

He loves you relentlessly and soon finds he can't bear to be away from you for too long

Mason will never let him life it down, but you know what?

He's just fine with that

#black ops cold war #call of duty #russell adler x reader #jason hudson x reader #lazar x reader #eleazar azoulay x reader #alex mason x reader #helen park x reader #lawrence sims x reader #frank woods x reader #bell!reader

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insomniamamma · 3 years

Text

Safe: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: What can I say? I'm hormonal and all my shit hurts and if I cannot get snuggles IRL then I will write something super soft and self-indulgent to make myself feel better. Part of the Prickle AU. Set sometime after Sacellum.

Warnings: Oh no! There's only one bed. Soft!Ezra. Language. Cee's best friend on The Pug is non-binary and also named after my little boy's favorite stuffy. Maybe the slightest bit of angst. But mostly super soft.

"You did this on purpose." "Right hand to Kevva, I did not. I asked for double occupancy and they must have misunderstood and--" "You don't have a right hand," "Let's go back to the reception desk," says Ezra, "We may be able to negotiate more appropriate accommodations." "Errgh," you groan. Reception had been a nightmare, three freighters worth of traffic trying to secure berths all at once. It was a lot of people. Too many for your liking. Cee was staying with Kit and their family. Kit and Cee had practically tackled each other right there on the dock, everyone else forgotten, walked away arm in arm. "We shove off in three cycles," Ezra hollered at her retreating back, and she flapped a dismissive hand at him. You had to smile. For three cycles Cee gets to be a normal teenager hanging out with her best friend without worrying about points and pulls and overhead costs and fuel margins. "I don't wanna go back down there," you say, "Too many people. I think twice the population of Falnost was waiting in that fucking line." You brush past him and into the suite. The ceilings are low and slightly curved and it feels strange to be under this much grav. The outer rings of Puggart Bench have something close to terra-normal gravity, but after so much time spent on little moons and worldlets, this much G feels weird and you have no desire to trudge back down to reception. "You sure?" Asks Ezra. "Yeah," you drop your day bag and press a hand to the mattress. "Look at the size of this thing. It's, like, five crash-couches wide. This seems above our pay grade." "They're overbooked," says Ezra, "We're paying the same points for the berth we should have gotten. I made sure of it. I can sleep in that recliner if--" "No." "No?" "Kevva, Ez, we're both adults," you say, "I think we can share a bed for a night without exploding."

Your suite has a real, honest-to-Goddess shower with a generous 15 minute timer. You scrub as fast as you can and then just let the water hit you, let the pressure pound on your tense back muscles until the chime sounds and the water cuts off. You towel off and dress, soft clothes you sleep in, and pad out into the main room. Ezra is reading, face far off and serious, and you just look at him for a minute, illuminated in the warm lamp-light, absorbed in his book, little furrow between his brows and then he looks up, all knowing smirk and dancing eyes, he's caught you staring. "Your turn, Ez," You say and turn your face away. Kevva. This man. You've been trying to keep things professional, but it's a losing battle. His flirtations make you flush, but he's never tried to push you, never tried to leverage the fact that it's his name on the ship's title, that you signed a contract, that you are junior-most crew. You feel safe with him. And, from your limited experience in the fringe, that is a miracle in itself.

Ezra sets his book aside and heads for the bathroom. You peel the sheets from the other side of the bed and settle in. There's a media player bolted to the wall, but you just want quiet. You switch off the lamp on your nightstand (we both have lamps, we both have a nightstand, how weird is that?) The sheets feel deliciously cool against your skin. To be clean and sleeping in clean sheets...if Heaven isn't like this Kevva's got some answering to do. Ezra sings in the shower. You're barely awake and you smile. Ezra can't carry a tune in a bucket, singing fringeling songs and reels, stories of mercs and pirates and ghosts and you drift off to the sound of him, the sound of the water running.

He sees you soft and loose and asleep. No rail-gun, no body armor, no thrower under your pillow. Your face slack, snoring slightly. You've kicked out of the blankets and lay curled as if chilled. "Hey Artichoke," he murmurs, pulls the blankets up and tucks them around you, "Let's get you warm, yeah?"

Ezra wakes. Bleared red numbers of the clock saying that this is still the deepest ditch of local night. Ezra is warm and confused. He feels you pressed against him, your chest to his back, an arm hooked around his middle, your legs entwined with his. You've sought him out in your sleep and folded yourself around him, your breath slow and steady against his nape. Ezra's eyes prick with tears. He can't remember the last time he's been held like this. He's had lovers. He has payed for sex on the less reputable Benches of the Great Arm, but for someone to hold him? For someone to touch him without payment, without trying to press some advantage, gain some kind of leverage, without priming him for the inevitable backstab? He is overwhelmed. He tries to wriggle away from you, but your arm just tightens around him. "...fixed the transponder," you mutter against his neck, "told you we didn't need...told you..." He pats your arm and relaxes against you. "Okay, Artichoke, okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

You wake enfolded, Ezra's good arm wrapped around you. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, the slow sussurration of his breath, the snores that catch in his throat and turn to murmurs, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You've tucked yourself against him in your sleep. Your hand rests on his sternum. Oh Kevva. What are you doing? You go rigid. Your first impulse is to wrestle out of his hold, take one of the blankets and install yourself in the recliner that you wouldn't let Ezra take, but part of you wants to stay right here in the combined warmth of your bodies, feeling his breath, his heart, his calloused palm spread against your shoulder. You shift, making the smallest effort to pull yourself away and his arm tightens further, a low, sleepy chuckle reverberates through his chest. "Hi Ez," "Hi." He strokes the pad of his thumb along the exposed curve of your shoulder. "I'll get up," you say, even as he shifts and cups the back of your head in his palm, tucking you closer. "You don't have to," he says, voice rough with sleep. This gesture pricks at your heart. Coming up on Falnost has made you hard, guarded, there has been precious little gentleness in your life, pulling rocks out of the parched ground since you were big enough to lift a shovel. Learned to fight and shoot to chase water-thieves from the homestead. He strokes the back of your head like one might pet a skittish cat and your heart squeezes. "Ezra?" You hate how small your voice sounds, you hate the uncertainty you hear there, "Are we okay?" "Of course we are," he says, "Why wouldn't we be?" "I wrapped around you like a Bueller's world python and I did it in my sleep-" "The wrapping was mutual-" "You're not mad or uncomfortable or anything?" He laughs again, gentle huff of breath against the crown of your head. "Mad about waking with you in my arms? The day I'm mad about that you can just shoot me in the head and send me to Kevva because I will surely have lost my ever-loving mind." You smile against his skin and relax some, your hand unfists and you curl your arm around his soft belly, feel his breath hitch. "Tickles." "Sorry." You feel yourself drift, skirting the edge of sleep. He is warm and solid and you let yourself relax against him. “This feels...safe..." you say, so close to sleep that you're not sure if you've said it aloud or if you've just thought it. And you're not sure if you hear his response or dream it, one word. Always.

"She's late," says Ezra. "We still got a sixteenth to button up and board," "Still," says Ezra, "Yon freighter will leave with our pod wether we're strapped in it or not." You see Cee and Kit, trailed by Kit's parents, weaving through the crowd. Cee is beaming, her blonde hair has a brilliant streak of blue, and Kit has a matching streak in their hair. "Hey guys!" Cee hugs Ezra and then hugs you. "How was your shore leave, Little Bird? I like the fancy hair." "Isn't that cool? We've got matching streaks," says Cee. "It's semi-permanent," says Kit, "We'll pick a different color next time!" You have to smile. Cee looks revitalized. Three cycles spent with her friend, just doing normal kid things has been good for her. "Check this out!" says Cee and pushes a laminated drawing towards the two of you. Ezra makes a show of looking carefully. "I recognize you and Kit," he says, "I am not familiar with these other people, though." "They're from The Streamer Girl, dumbass," says Cee, "Here's Clo and Reive and Lily and Auri. See? Kit put us right in the story." Ezra gives Kit his best smile. “You drew this? You are very talented." Kit smiles big. "Thanks!" says Kit, "I'll put you guys in the next one! Maybe you could be professors at Bowsun Academy or something." "I look forward to it," says Ezra. "Time to go, Cee," you say and Cee and Kit exchange one more enthusiastic hug. "Later fringeling!" Calls Kit. "Piss off, stationer!" Cee calls back. Ezra curls his fingers around yours and squeezes. Cee tells you all about her three cycles with Kit, the movies they watched, the Real Food they ate. How Kit's little brother wanted a blue streak in his hair too and Kit's parents said no and how mad he got. I wanna be cool like Kit and Cee. "I told him he's got plenty of time to be cool," says Cee, "And he told me that I don't understand how the world works. He's like, four." Ezra laughs. "Wise for his years." Says Ezra. And the three of you fall quiet. You find the pod much as you left it, towed to the Polly Jean and clipped in, transferred by the station's tugs. You settle in and do a full systems check. Calling out the checklists and making sure everything is good for transit. "What are you guys so happy about?" asks Cee. "Whatever do you mean?" asks Ezra. "You been all smiles since I hit the dock," says Cee, "Both of you. Did we score a really good job? Did we win the Puggart Bench lottery or something? What aren't you telling me?" "That," says Ezra, "Is for us to know and you to endlessly speculate about." "Hmph," says Cee.

Tagging: @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum , @honestly-shite, @writeforfandoms, @ladyvengeancesposts, @the-blind-assassin-12

#ezra x f!reader w/cee #ezra prospect x f!reader w/cee #ezra and cee #soft!ezra needs his own warning #don't look at me #this is so soft

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lunmelia · 3 years

Text

Listen I know that Jack had to “grow up fast” because the world is a “dangerous place” or whatever but if he was born a baby?? I would’ve watched the hell out of that show. Just two dudes, their mum and an angel raising the devil’s baby. Because I say that they kicked Lucifer’s ass to the alternate world and everyone lives (except Kelly. Sorry.). Could you imagine?

You have Mary; the woman who has experience in raising two babies, even if one was only for six months.

You have Dean; the man who basically raised Sam and has vague memories of helping out when his brother was a baby. Helped Lisa with her son and baby niece. Took care of a shapeshifter baby for a day. Also had a daughter for a couple of days but didn’t interact with her much.

You have Sam; not much experience. Also took care of a shapeshifter baby for a day. Strong in research, might manage to find them at least a paragraph of how to raise a nephilim. Killed his niece. Not a great sign but he promises he won’t do that this time.

You have Castiel; the angel expert. Is a literal angel. Has no experience with babies apart from that one night he babysat for his co-worker. Kind-of-sort-of-not-really a dad to a teenage girl. Only times he’s had to interact with a nephilim is when he’s been ordered to kill one, so, not a good sign but he promises he won’t do that this time.

Together, they make do. But holy shit is raising Jack tough.

He may not have a true form like Castiel but he does have wings and a true voice. Which he can’t control. So the tantrums. The tantrums. When he was born he made their ears bleed from the crying, and the lights exploded. Cas was miraculously able to calm him down before further damage was done, but the humans always make sure to have earplugs on them from then on. They also had to buy a large supply of lightbulbs to replace the ones in the bunker every time he cries.

They had to baby proof the bunker. And I mean baby proof the hell out of the bunker. You think a normal house can be dangerous for a baby? The bunker is huge. And full of knives, guns, spellbooks, ancient artifacts, and just about a thousand other things that are not. good. to have around a baby. The baby proofing took a week. Two days of exploring the bunker and recording everything that needed to be baby-proofed, two shopping trips in a day to buy the things needed, and another three days of installing everything. Cas had to stay with Jack in his room while Mary, Sam and Dean did all the baby proofing.

(also yes this is an AU in which Dean and Cas get their shit together, confess their feelings, build a house and raise Jack as his dads. the build a house part comes in when Jack is like 3)

The absolute freakout Dean had when Jack flew the first time. It happened when he was five months old, and Dean was changing his diaper. He turned around for a second to throw out the wipes. Heard the flap of wings, turned back around with a greeting for Cas on his lips, and Jack was gone. It went like this: Dean, staring at the empty table: ... Jack? Jack- *realisation* Cas! Cas, the baby’s gone! Cas! The baby can fly! Baby’s flying- Cas, appearing in front of him with a giggling Jack in his arms: yes, I am well aware Dean: oh my god- Jack: *disappears again* Dean: *yelps in alarm* Cas: *simply reaches up and just. plucks Jack out of thin air. one moment there’s empty air and the next Jack is just in Cas’ hands* Cas: this may become... difficult Dean, leaning over with his hands on his knees: I’m gonna have a heart attack

Turns out, baby Jack can heal! Which is what Mary discovered when once she had held Jack after coming back from a hunt with a few scrapes, they miraculously disappeared.

You know when toddlers will get into the flour and leave a mess that you have to clean up for the next two hours? Yeah, well Jack got into a box of spellbooks and opened one which released monsters from fables. So that was a very panic-filled 6 hours that included Sam, Dean and Mary researching how to put them back / kill them while Cas held Jack close to make sure he didn’t fly away. Turns out, baby-proofing a bunker is pretty useless when said baby can fly through walls.

Apart from the many mishaps thathappened during raising Jack from infancy to toddlerhood, he’s just a weird kid. And kids are usually weird, but Jack is weird.

Sam basically sprinted back to the car with a five-year-old Jack in his arms after Jack had held a woman’s hand in his at a playground and gently told her, “the events that lead to your father’s death were never your fault. He is in his Heaven now and although he is at peace, he begs that you make room in your heart for forgiveness of his wrong doings.” Yeah, they were very close to moving town when that happened.

One day when he was 6, he walked outside into the back yard and just sat down in a random spot and stared at the ground. After a couple of minutes of glancing out the window to check on him, Dean walked up to him. Dean: whatchu up to, kid? Jack: there is a daisy that is going to grow and bloom here in 15 days. I’ve never seen a flower grow. I would like to watch it, if that’s okay? Dean: you want to sit here, in this exact spot, for 15 days so you can watch a flower grow? Jack, still not taking his eyes off the spot: yes Dean, who’s honestly used to this behaviour after witnessing it for the past two years: ... alright, sure. I’ll bring you dinner in a couple of hours, that sound good? Jack, finally looking up with a beaming smile: yes, thank you! (Cas and Dean did not let him sit in the same spot for 15 days. They did sit next to him for like two hours when the daisy did bloom, though. And despite the creak and buzzing ache in his knees and back, Dean can’t find it in himself to regret it.)

he had a phase when he was 7 where he would say hi to everyone he came across. Everyone. Dean and Cas cannot make one shopping trip with him without everyone in that store knowing Jack’s name. He says bye when they leave too. 100% every time they get at least 5 people saying bye back.

On the year he turned 8 they decided to enrol him in school. After weeks of telling him not be “weird” and teaching him to be as normal of a kid as he could be. When the 4 of them are confidant that he won’t go around using his powers, they enrol him. They did not anticipate the school calling him the first day, telling them that Jack had explained to the other kids that Santa isn’t real and they should “learn to not set themselves up for disappointment or believe what their parents say” which caused the entire class to burst out into tears. It was another “maybe we should move town” moment.

Another kid: my dad broke his leg. he has to walk with crutches now. sometimes he lets me use them! Jack: both my dads have died. one of them was torn to shreds by hellhounds who then dragged his soul down to hell where he was tortured for 40 years, but then father rescued him, that was how they met. but then father was blown to bits by my biological father. but then my grandfather resurrected him! they’re fine now. Their teacher: uh, wow... Jack. sure sounds like you have some very vivid dreams Jack, remembering he’s not supposed to talk about this kind of stuff: ah, yes, of course... dreams. I woke up... crying. a lot. the dreams... scared me.

I have... so many other little moments in my head, but this post is already so long so let me know if anyone wants more.

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 4 years

Text

Fred Weasley x Reader

Prompt: The three times Fred knew he fell for you, and the one time he told you he loves you.

A/N: I absolutely love this prompt, I’ve seen it a couple times before but if your the creator of it please let me know so I can give you credit. Also credits to the owner of this gif!

Warnings: My longest fic ever, So many commas, Fluff, maybe angst but not really, Fred being cute, you being cute, both you and Fred being oblivious to your feelings, swearing bc its me, I think that’s it

It all started sixth year. Fred was sitting across the room from you in potions, one of the only classes you had together. You knew each other pretty well, being in the same house and year as each other, but you didn’t really get to know each other until year five, when a certain incident brought you together.

You were working on a potion, trying to read the directions as you simultaneously poured in your ingredients, before looking up and seeing you were accidentally putting in dragons horn instead of dragon claw. You started flipping through you book frantically, causing Snape to walk over.

“Something the matter Y/L/N” He said in his monotone voice, but before you could answer, your potion exploded, causing thick purple slime to cover the both of you.

The class went completely silent, not daring to speak, except for Fred, who after a few seconds was kneeled over laughing.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, and both Y/N Y/L/N and Fred Weasley will be spending the rest of the day in detention” Snape said, dismissing the class before excusing himself to exit to his office, leaving Fred to look at your purple covered self, only to be surprised when you let out a chuckle.

“He’s a lot less scary when he’s purple” You said to Fred, which caused both of you to fall into a new wave of laughter, before you pulled out your wand and muttered a quick cleaning spell.

Fred watched noticing you had missed a spot in your hair, making Fred cross the room over to you and reach to remove the last bits of goo out of your hair, which was surprisingly soft.

You laughed before thanking him and going to collect your things so you could go do whatever tasks Snape had in store for you. Fred watched as you moved your hair behind your ear, and couldn't help but notice how his heart rate picked up.

The next time Fred knew he had fallen for you was much more obvious. You and Fred had become good friends since the potions incident, and he had even let you help with some of his and Georges pranks every once in a while. You three were beginning to get along very nicely.

One night though, Fred and George were up late working on a new type of fire work in the common room, which involved using just the right amount of possibly explosive materials.

This obviously ended badly, sending fireworks flying around the room and causing quite a bit of noise. You probably wouldn’t have noticed if you were asleep, a good bit of soundproofing between the common room and your dorm room, but because you were already awake, having had trouble falling asleep, you heard the sound and assumed the worst, running out of the dorm and down the stairs.

“What's going on?!” You said once you reached the common room, eyes landing on the two boys who were ducked behind one of the couches, and covered in a bit of ash.

“New project” George said smiling looking over to Fred, expecting to join in on his explanation, but Fred was just staring at you. You had run down in a rush and didn’t bother to get changed, so you were still in a tank top and short shorts, causing Fred's brain to pretty much short circuit.

He had always found you attractive, but he had never really seen you in anything accept your robes for classes, so suddenly seeing so much skin was certainly a change.

You didn’t notice Fred's staring, but George certainly did, coming to his brothers rescue and elbowing him, snapping him out of his trance.

“Huh? Oh yes, fireworks, got a bit carried away” Fred said, trying to recover from the seemingly obvious ogling.

“Working with dangerous explosive without me” You said, putting a hand to your chest and putting on a fake sad face “and here I thought we were friends”

“We were planning on inviting you but-” Fred said, suddenly flustered over that he may have hurt your feelings.

“I’m kidding Fred, sheesh what's gotten into you?” You said smiling and shaking your head. “Maybe all that gun power has finally gotten to your head”

“Yeah probably” Fred said, trying to laugh it off.

“Well, I’m off to bed, try to keep it down” You said, before saying goodnight and heading to your room.

“That was painful to watch” George joked, causing Fred to look at him

“How do you mean?” Fred asked

“You’ve got it baaaaad” George said, causing Freds face to heat up before he wacked his younger brother on the shoulder.

“Shut up” Fred said, causing a laugh to erupt from George

After that night George was doing everything in his power to get the two of you together. Leaving the room whenever it was just you three, tripping you so you would fall into Fred, on top of many other things. Sure George thought you two would make a good couple, but to see the flustered look on his brothers face whenever you were near him was enough to keep it going, despite you being completely oblivious to him liking you.

The weekend had finally rolled around, and you and a few friends, including Fred and George, were headed to Hogsmeade to do some shopping and just to have a few hours away from the school grounds.

You were walking with Fred and George, doing some window shopping just as it started to snow.

“Ah shit” You said, looking at the falling particles. You loved the holiday season, but you did not handle cold well. You were already wearing two sweaters and could already feel yourself starting to get cold.

“What's the matter Y/N?” Fred asked, looking down to see you wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Its nothing” you said, trying to seem like it wasn’t a big deal, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out you were cold.

“Speaking of nothing, I need to go get some supplies for some new prototypes, so I’ll leave you to it” George said, quickly parting from the group, but not before sending Fred a quick wink, noticing how George was holding his wand.

“That little” Fred muttered to himself, finally figuring out that George started the snow in the first place.

“What was that?” You said, looking up at Fred, a slight red tint starting to dust over your cheeks as the air got colder. Fred couldn’t help but look a few seconds longer than he should have, thinking about how cute you looked.

“Oh nothing” Fred excused, continuing to walk next you you past the shops.

After a few more seconds, he noticed your arms wrapping more tightly around yourself, slightly shivering as a particular gust of wind shocked your body with cold. Without thinking, Fred put his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

You started warming up, his body heat surrounding you almost instantly. You could feel the muscles of his arm underneath the fabric of his sweater as he pulled you even closer to him, causing your face to suddenly heat up. Quidditch practice really had its rewards.

“Is this ok?” Fred asked, noticing your changed expression. you nodded

“Yeah, its actually really nice” you said, wrapping your arm around him as well and leaning your head on his shoulder a bit.

You spent the rest of the day like that, snow falling around the two of you, arms around each other, feeling butterflies swarming your stomach. You had always found the older Weasley twin attractive, but you hadn’t really thought of him romantically until now, and you didn’t completely hate it.

“Warmer yet?” Fred asked, causing you to snap out of your haze.

“Much, thank you” You said, looking at Fred to see a mischievous look on his face.

“Good” He said, before suddenly plopping a snowball on your head. where had he gotten that?!

“Oh... so this is how its going to be” You said, kneeling down to form your own snowball, picking it up and looking at Fred.

“Now Y/N, lets not get to hasty” He started, before he was dodging a snowball aimed right at his face.

“Get ready to pay Weasley!” you yelled, chasing him, throwing snow balls at each other, laughing the whole time before you suddenly fell flat on your back.

“I cant, I surrender” you said through laughs, trying to catch your breath

“So what you’re saying is that I’m the best snow ball player in the world” Fred said, making you roll your eyes.

“Shut up and help me” You said, holding out your hand for Fred to help you up, but as soon as he grabbed it you pulled him down, causing him to land next to you, causing you both to fall into a fi of laughter.

“That was so evil” Fred said from beside you, after you had both finally composed yourselves.

“Nah you love me” You said, causing Fred to tense a bit beside you at the sudden realization that, he actually might. Before he could say anything tough, you had slapped another snowball to his chest, getting up and running in the opposite direction.

“Race you back!” You said, causing Fred to laugh, before standing and chasing after you, all the while thinking about what the hell he was supposed to do.

The next year you were closer than ever. You had visited each other dozens of times over the summer, and just as you were headed back to school and getting used to the old routine, it was time for the Tri-Wizard tournament. You watched as Fred and George attempted the aging potion, laughing as they both flew back as old men, but also visiting them when they had to go to the hospital wing.

You were in class with Fred, potions once again but this time you two were lab partners. You sat at your desk, talking with Fred about something random when Snape walked in, telling us to open our textbooks and prepare for the lesson.

As you were reading you suddenly felt a piece of paper fall by your hand. You looked at it and then over to Fred, who was already looking at you, nodding to make you open it. you reached for it but before you could open it, the note was snatched out of your hand by Snape.

“No, note passing in class” He said before throwing the note in a trash in the corner.

You looked back at Fred, who glared at Snape as he walked away before bringing his attention back to you. He put his book down and looked to make sure Snape wasn’t looking.

“Do you... want to go to the ball... with me” He mouthed, creating pretending to dance before pointing to himself.

You instantly felt your face heat up. Over the summer your feelings towards Fred had certainly grown, but you didn’t think he would feel the same way about you. You quickly snapped out of your trance though, smiling at Fred and nodding.

“What am I going to do?!” You shouted as you landed face first into your pillow, Angelina and Katie looking at you, rolling their eyes at your dramatics.

“Go to the ball with him you dim whit” Katie said, causing you to glare at her.

“He probably only asked me as a friend anyway” you muttered.

Both Angelina and Katie knew about your crush on Fred. They both also knew Fred had a crush on you, Angelina finding out from George, who was a whole other love story waiting to happen.

“Or... maybe he asked you out because he likes you” Angelina countered.

“I don’t know, I’m just freaking out” You said, sitting up to look at the two girls.

“I have a perfect solution” Katie said, causing both you and Angelina to look at her.

“Y/N, you have a crush on Fred, Angelina, you have a crush on George-”

“I do not-!” Angelina started, before Katie cut her off.

“You do too, now shut it and listen” Katie said. She was pretty close to George and Fred, being on the same quidditch team and all and knew for certain that the twins liked the both of you.

“Angelina, you’re going to go to the ball with George, Y/N with Fred, now if at any point they don't seem interested, you can just ditch and hang out with each other the rest of the ball.” She said, matter of factly.

“That's a stupid plan” You said, earning a pillow to the head.

“It is not! And you wont even need it because they like you you idiots!” Katie said throwing her arms in the air. Literally everyone could see that You and Fred liked each other, except for you two.

“Were doomed” You said, causing both you and Angelina to fall backward onto your beds, Katie rolling her eyes.

Two days later, you were sitting in front of your mirror getting ready for the ball. You had chosen a beautiful blue and silver halter top dress. It hugged your body until it reached your waist when it fanned out a bit. You matched it with some silver shoes that you found comfortable, and had Angelina help you with your hair.

“You look amazing, he’d be stupid not to see that” She said, finishing your hair.

“Says you, you look like a goddess!” you said, looking at her purple dress.

“We all look great now lets go” Katie said impatiently. She had gotten a date from Durmstrang and was excited to say the least. You all shared a laugh before heading out to the ball.

Fred was a nervous wreck waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He was trying not to show it, trying to mask his nerves with his usual goofy attitude but George could see through it.

“You’re going to be fine, chill out already” George said, causing Fred to shoot him a look.

“I’m completely chill! I’m the most chill person in the world, I’m-” Fred’s rambling was cut off when he saw George suddenly looking at the grand staircase behind him. Following his eyes, Fred turned to see Angelina, Katie and you. All he could see was you.

Suddenly all the nerves he had, all the things he practice he was going to say, all the worry, left his head. You were Y/N, you were his best friend, and he couldn’t believe how absolutely head over heels he was for you.

“Good evening sir” You said, doing a little curtsey, causing Fred to smile.

“Madam” He said, doing a deep bow and causing you to laugh. “Shall we” he said, holding out his arm.

“We shall” You said, taking his arm and following him to the ball room.

You spent the whole evening either dancing, or talking when you needed a breather. You would drink punch and people watch, trying to guess what people were saying to each other.

Suddenly the music changed, starting a slow song. You looked at Fred to see he was already looking at you. Wordlessly he held out his hand, causing you to smile while you took it. You walked out to the dance floor and started to sway to the music, suddenly very aware of the feeling of his hand on your waist.

“You look amazing Y/n” Fred said, leaning down so he could almost whisper it in your ear, causing chills to run down your spine.

“You don’t look to bad yourself” You joked, not wanting to get caught u in the moment and forget that you were only here as friends. Right?

“Can I take you somewhere really fast?” Fred asked. you felt your cheeks heat up at his sincerity but nodded none the less, allowing him to lead you out of the ball room.

He lead you to the outside of the castle. You walked side by side, just taking in the scenery before Fred suddenly stopped, causing you to as well. You had stopped at the bridge, being able to get a full view of the Black lake, the moon reflecting off of it.

You were too busy looking at the water to notice how Fred was looking at how the moon fell on your face, and made your eyes seem to glow. Or how he felt like he was suddenly seeing you for the first time all over again. Or how badly he wanted to just lean in and-

“Thank you, for asking me to the dance” You said, snapping Fred out of his trance.

“Of course, they ’res nobody id rather go with” He said looking at you, but you refused to meet his eyes.

“I’m sure that's not true. I’m sure there's someone here that you fancy” You said.

Fred looked at you confused. “How do you mean?” He asked.

“George told me that you liked someone... over the summer” You said. Fred mentally face palmed. That idiot! Of course he was talking about you, but Fred guessed George was just trying to get you to confess, which you obviously didn’t.

“Well, yeah... I do like someone” Fred said, an idea coming to mind.

“Oh... well who is she” You said, trying to mask you disappointment.

“Well, she’s in Gryffindor, she’s the absolute funniest person I’ve ever met, she has this smile where you see it and you can’t help but smile yourself, she's able to just walk into class and make the whole room brighter, ya know?” He said, looking down at you, trying to hide the sadness on your face.

“Is it Katie? Because I can talk to her and-” You started

“Oh my god, its you dumbass!” Fred suddenly exclaimed, causing your head to shoot up to meet his eyes.

“Wait, you like me?” You asked, Fred nodding, turning his body and gently grabbing both of your hands, holding them in front of him.

“Yeah, I have since last year” He said. Now it was his turn to not meet your eyes. “I knew I liked you from the moment you turned Snape purple, and ever since I’ve just fallen for every part of you, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier, I was just worried that-”

You cut off his rambling, quickly lifting yourself on your tip toes and quickly pressing your lips to his. The kiss lasted less than a second, and you couldn’t read the expression on his face, causing you to panic a bit.

Meanwhile, Fred was wondering if what happened actually happened, or if he suddenly died and went to heaven, he didn’t see your worried expression though.

“I’m sorry, I-” This time Fred cut you off, moving one hand to cup your face while the other went to rest on your hip. You reacted quickly, closing your eyes and moving to wrap your arms to rest around his neck.

This kiss lasted much longer, the two of you moving in sync as you finally did what he had wanted to do for almost a whole year. After a while you both finally pulled away for air, smiling at each other like idiots.

“I think I might be in love with you” Fred said, causing you to blush

“I think I might be in love with you too” You said, causing you both to laugh a bit before leaning in to reconnect your lips, but not before-

“Its about bloody time!” George shouted, causing the both of you to jump apart, fearing it might have been a teacher, but as soon as you both saw it was only George and Angelina, Fred started fuming while you just laughed.

“No thanks to you, arsehole!” Fred yelled back, causing George to laugh, before you suddenly realized the situation before you.

“Wait what are you two doing out here?” You asked, causing both George and Angelina to stop laughing, a slight tint forming on their faces.

“Well we were just going to... um...” George started, trying to find the words

“We were going to snog” Angelina said bluntly, causing George to look at her with a look of shock on his face, while you and Fred just laughed.

“Well Its about time yourselves then!” You yelled, giving Angelina a quick thumbs up before they left towards the Gryffindor common room.

“How did that not happen sooner, its so obvious they liked each other” You said, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“completely oblivious, the both of them, couldn’t be us” Fred joked back, making you giggle before reconnecting his lips to yours.

A/N: I'm still in the denial faze of grief because Fred Weasley is my dream man but he doesn't exist, so please feel free to enjoy my coping mechanism :)

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley #george wealsey imagine

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obeymeluv · 4 years

Text

The Bros as Dads

PSA: The boys would be very attractive dads (emotionally and physically). That is all.

Note: the headcanon also includes genders for the kids. I can see some of them having sons, and others having daughters. And, obviously, everyone is older (20′s-ish).

Lucifer

Takes a while to process the news. It’s kind of a big thing. His love life was something of a roller coaster (or nonexistent) until you. The ‘L’ word was a hurdle, now there’s a B word and a P word?!

When his brain realizes what you’ve said or if you show him some proof, the pride takes over FULL SWING (you can feel it explode in him, like his aura) and he purrs

You are truly his stars, his moon, and the heavens he so dearly misses

There’s this raw, vulnerable love in Lucifer’s eyes and it pretty much awes everyone because he’s usually so proper and reserved

The memories are old and dusty but Lucifer’s parenting instincts are strong

A type-A, fussy person. You may have 7 months left before you give birth, but the house will be spotless and perfectly proofed before you hit bed rest

Piles of parenting books suddenly sprout around the house. No one’s sure where they came from or how there’s even that many WRITTEN about parenting.

You and the child become his world. You’re his kryptonite, the only thing to convince him away from long hours or break him out of sour moods

Lucifer is very stressed, more than he thought he’d be, because you’re carrying his child and he worries for your health.

He’s with you every step of the way, from appointments to birth

He’d absolutely drop everything to tend to your needs, or appoint one of the brothers if he couldn’t.

Likes to busy himself with making a nursery and is actually good at themes/interior decorating

Has a tiny desk built in his study. The child won’t be able to join him for a while, but the idea of his tiny joy working on something beside him warms his heart

Hunts down obscure herbs and items from folklore that are supposed to bless pregnancies or benefit the unborn. Turns out he’s really nervous and superstitious.

Lucifer is the worst when it comes to shopping because his pride outweighs his logical restraint. If he convinces himself IN THE SLIGHTEST that his child would look good in something or the nursery could really use an item, it’s coming to the House of Lamentation

He ugly cries when he realizes you’re having a girl because he feels like Lilith has been given back to him.

Refuses to name his child Lilith because of everything that happened. Can’t settle for anything close to her name or any nicknames they gave her.

Makes you a sleeping space in his study. Loves to take breaks to watch you sleep. Unintentionally takes a break to kiss your stomach and talk to the baby.

Firm believer in ‘in the belly’ enrichment so you’ll have music playing and Lucifer will read to them all the time.

If the baby’s not with you, she’s with him. Lucifer has definitely shown up to a meeting with Lord Diavolo with his baby in a chest carrier. The meeting went flat because Diavolo wanted to play with the baby.

He’s the type of dad that demands total silence when the baby’s sleeping. Might have tied up some of his brothers to achieve it.

He’s not a total hard-ass (this kid has made a sucker out of him, okay?) but his kid will definitely have manners and knows to help clean up.

The type to take naps with his kid. He’ll get up at 2 in the morning and climb into their crib if they’re fussy.

Lucifer spent so much of his life being the primary caretaker for his bros that he forgets he’s not alone this time. When you push him back down so he can sleep, and tend to your daughter, his heart almost bursts with love.

On the fence about another child. The kid’s going to have pride in spades and he thinks a sibling will humble them (and make them less lonely). He’s also afraid of that prideful wrath and doesn’t want two prideful little demons always fighting

Isn’t the best with dressing up his kid but likes to give them fancy shoes. The shoes are always on point even if the rest of the outfit is a disaster.

Is 100% ready to receive any and everything “#1 Dad” because he IS, DAMN IT. He’ll use it regularly, too.

Mammon

He’s freaking out hardcore (”You sure? Really, really sure? Maybe you just have gas or something. Y-yeah!”)

Doesn’t believe it until he sees a test. Promptly faints. Dead-ass faints as soon as he sees it.

Kind of remembers it when he wakes up, and you have to remind him again.

This time he’s pretty excited because THE GREAT MAMMON will be having a child. WHAT A GIFT, RIGHT? THE BEST GIFT!

All the magazines are snapping up this gossip and, for once in his life, he puts the earnings away. Kid has a nice fund going before they’re even born.

His schedule is 50% work, 50% family because YOUR MAIN MAN HAS TO BE THERE. Work just pays the bills and pads the nursery account, okay?

The Devildom has something similar to a baby shower and Mammon puts all KINDS of high-dollar shit on there. His baby’s going to be stylin’, okay?

Some crying in front of others, but an entirely different kind of crying behind closed doors. Vulnerable, grateful crying about being loved and having a tiny someone who will love him, too

Pays someone to explain baby stuff to him. How to change them, feed them, what type of breathing you should be doing. It surprised his bros because Lucifer could just give him that info. The fact that Mammon paid for it means he’s pretty serious about learning.

Gets tons of free maternity photos because all his magazines want the scoop. He gets to pamper you and see you all dressed up and beautiful and EVERY magazine has a shot of him crying like a proud sap.

Mammon hoards all of those pictures. Has a pile of them in his room, totally separate from everything else.

Has a lot of nervous energy and can get frustrated with all the baby books, so he distracts himself with scrap-booking. Surprisingly good at it.

Mammon thinks you’re just the most beautiful thing ever. He loves taking pictures of you. Wants the kid to have no doubts about how much he loves them and their parent.

He’s so lovesick. When you sleep or hug your belly or just touch it he melts.

Stacks Grimm on your belly when you sleep. Thinks it’s fun. Likes to record how big the towers get.

Not the best at getting up for your random-hour cravings and has definitely made you cry with his bluntness. When he’s more awake he’ll apologize and you guys will work it out.

When he finds out he’s having a little boy, the bros throw a party. Mammon gets semi-drunk and has a huge, ass-chewing lecture about how the bros made him feel for centuries and how they better not say ANYTHING like that to his kid.

You shot down any and all attempts to name the kid anything money related.

Almost passed out when you had the baby.

Cried when he first held him. Calls him Mamm-mini.

Totally planning the baby’s first photo shoot. Has people on standby to make matching outfits.

He now has a partner in crime and the kid can charm the pants off of anyone!

Mammon is 100% devoted to this kid and he secretly hopes he’s the favorite parent.

Lives for any second of bonding he can get. NEEDS IT TO LIVE. 100% a sappy dad.

The most supportive dad, always saying nice things because he knows people didn’t always say nice things about him.

Levi

Brain stops working. You almost think you’ve given him a heart attack

Levi feels you take the controller from his hand and instantly has to fill it with something else, taking yours. He looks at you and asks you again if you’re sure.

He can see it in your eyes and he just crows. He doesn’t know if he’s excited or scared but he made the noise.

Worries A LOT about the idea of becoming a father. Can gross otakus be good fathers? How does he dad?

Gets pre-stressed about social interactions. Kids have to go to school and have play-dates and Levi’s going to have to talk to people...ugh! Gross!

Definitely has a few break-downs (feelings of inadequacy, etc.) before Lucifer or Satan comfort him. He’s better than he thinks, just insecure. Everyone learns as they go. They have classes (”They’re like cheat codes, Levi.”) and it makes him feel better

His gaming friends send their congratulations and he gets lots of themed blankets and onesies.

Wants you to have a water birth because the water is his child’s calling. Really attached to the idea.

He’s constantly looking up guides to baby-proofing, double- and triple-checking safety specs of anything before buying it.

Spends HOURS scouring Akuzon, comparing brands, and reading reviews for everything.

Akuzon noticed he was buying lots of baby books and looking at baby-related things so they sent him a onesie.

You get a lovely beach/water-themed maternity shoot and Levi is so love-struck he gets a nosebleed. Once he’s cleaned up it makes a darling photo shoot.

Has already made lists of anime for the kid to watch. Some are his favorite, some are for the lessons and moments that stuck with him

Asmo messaged TSL on the down-low and Levi got some quality kid-sized merch.

Tries to get you to name the baby Henry if it’s a boy. When he finds out it’s a girl, he pushes for Henrietta.

Reads TSL to the baby and plays ocean sounds.

As you get further along in your pregnancy, he buys a fridge for his room and stocks it with your favorite cold stuff. Any snack foods are just added to his stash.

You are absolutely worshipped. Craving something? Akuzon has it and the fastest pig is on it’s way. Your feet hurt? Try a water bath!

You’re his Player 2 now and forever (always have been), and he’s keeping you in perfect health.

Probably keeps a video journal for the kid or of the two of you during your pregnancy. Big on preserving stuff digitally.

Probably makes a game for his kid just because. They’ll be able to play it when they’re older.

Bought a ton of Magical Girl-style hairbows and things for when their hair grows in. His daughter’s a fucking princess, okay?

Belphegor bought the baby a goldfish onesie and Levi loves it to pieces.

Bought the baby a seashell bassinet and rocks them to sleep with his tail.

Levi has a bad sleep schedule and wakes easily, so he’s usually the first one to get up and handle the baby.

He has this complex about being a good dad. People can call him a weird, gross otaku but they’re ALSO going to mention how good of a dad he is!

Super affectionate with his kid in a quiet, whispering, mumbling way. Just thinks they’re the best thing.

Having a daughter really makes him rethink some of the ways he viewed anime characters and made him super critical. If his daughter ends up liking anime he’ll make it very clear what he thinks and how she shouldn’t let other people treat her like an object.

His demon form gets triggered REALLY EASILY if his bros hold her for too long. THAT’S HIS BABY, THANK YOU!

Satan

Secretly hoped to be a father one day. Wanted to prove so badly that he could be one, and move past the constant fear of his temper looming over him. He didn’t want wrath to be his only legacy.

Can’t manage more than a genuine smile and a lilting laugh when you tell him, but he’s literally almost sick with joy. He’s just not the type to jump from the rooftops or anything

Asmodeus and Mammon convince him into drinking because he needs to let loose and really show it!

Satan ends up drunk-stumbling to Lucifer and plunking his head into his chest and crying. He’s crying because he’s happy and mumbling something about ‘granddad’. When his tears dry he’s happy as can be, smugly calls Lucifer an ‘old fuck’ and promptly throws up.

They’re past most of their bad blood but even Lucifer wasn’t surprised Satan never got EVERYTHING out of his system. A lot of his childhood memories are tainted with pure wrath instead of coming into his cardinal sin through some other mean. Or naturally, like puberty.

Between his personal research and Lucifer’s expertise, the baby-proofing is totally covered.

His book binges are strictly about pregnancies, suspicions, rituals, parenting, and anything he can think of that has to do with kids.

He’s big on teas and brews that are supposed to help with pregnancies and pains. Uses his many connections to get ingredients for said teas

Reads the classics and big epics to his unborn child.

Buys you some Hellcats for protection. They’re fiercely loyal, so he’ll know you’re safe.

He’d be the type to nag you about your diet, but not to be mean. He’d support it with this absolute WALL of evidence that turns into a lecture that could last for hours.

Has to fight the Hellcats to sit next to you or touch your belly a lot more than he thought he would. He’d never say it out loud, but he’s starting to hate the cats (he doesn’t mean it though).

Starts cleaning up his book piles a lot more. The baby would get hurt if the stacks fell on them. His room becomes virtually spotless.

You pick books to read together. You end up reading Satan to sleep, too. He keeps a hand on your belly.

Gets nervous about you wanting to go out, and basically tries to keep you in the House of Lamentation. Relents a little because hormones make you scary. He was basically afraid of nothing because the walks were fine.

You like to sit in the Devildom gardens and he thinks you look picturesque and wonderful. It takes his breath away.

Asmodeus is your personal photographer because Satan doesn’t think anyone else will do you justice.

Finds out you’re having boy-girl twins and totally shuts down. What does he say? How does he respond? BELPHIE OR BEEL WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE TWINS! WHY HIM?!

Lucifer is BEYOND amused. This is definitely payback for everything Satan did in his childhood (so the saying goes).

It doesn’t bother him as much when he starts buying smart little cardigans, button-ups, ribbons, and bowties. He’s actually quite happy.

The Hellcats act weird and tip him off to your contractions before your water breaks. Satan gets you to the hospital and helps you give birth. The twins grow to look more like him than you, but if someone mistakes you for the nanny or says something derogatory, he’s pulling two ferocious kids off an idiot

Satan was afraid he’d be a short fuse, but he becomes the parent that explains everything to death (for better or worse). The kids will get a lecture when they’re bad, when the ask ‘why’ to something, he’ll explain why he gave the punishment he did, and be very clear with anything.

Asmodeus

Quickly falls in love with the idea of you being pregnant. It’s the best! Proof of his truest love, the thing that makes his heart beat!

He loved you to pieces before you were pregnant, and loves you even more now (if that’s possible).

Always wants to be with you, smothering your belly with kisses and touches and looking at it like it’s the next greatest love of his life

Takes names very seriously. “My child is a gift unto this world. People will know their name, so it has to be a good one!”

Gets really wrapped up in decor and aesthetic. He’d be a one-man force for all of it if you didn’t tell him to stop and breathe! Asmodeus just has lots of ideas, okay?

Has a really hard time understanding the value of baby-proofing until Satan smushes a few of his lipsticks in his hand and knocks around some finishing powder (”Now imagine that. All the time. With anything you love.”).

Hires someone to baby-proof the room because that’s just not his thing. He’ll handle securing the valuables, okay?

Constantly reading about beauty rituals and things to do for his pregnant wife. She’s doing something really hard and deserves to be pampered!

You’ll constantly be pampered or trying ‘this and that’ because he read it was good for the baby. Good for beauty, good for health, etc.

Has a pretty decent diet, himself, and keeps you on yours.

You definitely have pregnancy sex a few times. Anything he can do to help you out, you know?

Asmodeus ADORES watching you grow round with his child and LIVES for helping you take care of yourself. He’ll let you lounge in his fantastic tub and has no issues sitting on the floor and doing your toes

Picks out all your outfits. Wants you to look your best! Don’t worry, you’ll be comfy!

When he finds out you’re having a girl he cries. A lot.

SO MANY BABY UPDATE BROADCASTS ON DEVILGRAM! There is an official ‘baby watch’. It’s trending more than you thought it would.

Takes TONS of videos.

His baby is easily the most fashionable child in all of Devildom.

Takes really candid, private photos that have a lot of sentimental value. A lot of your pregnancy photos are you looking comfy in bed or sitting at a vanity in breezy clothes as he does your makeup.

The type of dad to sit down in the middle of the store to play with toys (are they good enough for his kid? Like, really?). Must feel everything before he buys it. If he doesn’t like how it feels, he won’t buy it.

You end up giving birth earlier than planned and Asmo almost throws up because birth doesn’t look like he thought it would

Super nervous during your pregnancy because you’re in pain and there’s lots of noises.

Busies himself doing your makeup because that’s the only way he can handle the situation. You’re holding his tail and he SWEARS you’re going to break it off!

The bros help deliver his little angel and Asmo is SMITTEN. ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN.

Holding his baby 24/7.

Loses sleep just because he watches them sleep. Sometimes he loses sleep for real because DAMN, babies don’t sleep a lot, do they?

It’s really hard to adjust to and he’s surprised his skin isn’t god-awful.

Doesn’t regret a thing, fawning over their tiny nails and little curls, and OMG EVERYTHING! Cries a lot because they’re just perfect

His wardrobe reflects his dad status but he still looks like a DILF. You can give him the most classic dad attire and it just looks good on him.

Beelzebub

He’s excited about your pregnancy. Boy honestly tried for it, you know? Studied positions and everything.

Beelzebub has so much love and the idea of holding a tiny someone just warms his heart

Everything kid-related is totally foreign to him except for how to act with them. He and Belphie were the youngest so he was used to being taken care of until he got old enough to climb and eat on his own.

The type of guy to need explicit, step-by-step instructions on EVERYTHING. He doesn’t have a brain for it like Satan or Lucifer, so he needs help

Seriously. Give him a checklist for baby-proofing and he’ll get it done.

Gets pretty down about not being able to cuddle and snuggle like normal, but he’ll look into safe ways to do so.

Has special snuggles with the baby. Kisses your belly and rubs it. Talks to your baby like the little demon it is (even if it doesn’t have a name yet).

Lives for the times you talk to the baby, talk yourself out of bed, or how you absently talk to your belly throughout the day.

Works out to deal with stress and nerves, but also because he wants to be a good, strong dad

The doctors give him a list of exercises you can do and he does them with you

Can’t really take the nutrition advice seriously. He eats pretty much everything and you probably will, too.

When people ask him about your pregnancy, he uses very inclusive language (”We’re expecting, etc.”)

You make mini-dates out of your late-night cravings. Beel is totally in love with it.

Beelzebub becomes your food finder. There’s been times where you look at him so cutely, so imploringly, and all you can manage is ‘spicy and crunchy’. He’ll find you something, don’t worry! He’s an expert!

Big on massages and cuddling. Likes to cup his hands over your belly and trace it.

The type of dad to gain weight with you as your pregnancy moves along. Becomes soft, strong dad.

Finds out you’re having twin boys and has the happiest crying session ever. Belphie is the first to know and all Beel can say is ‘Just like us!’ as he nearly crushes his twin to death.

Likes to dress them in cute and comfy clothes. Animal onesies? Yes!

At some point yours twins are going to look like hotdogs and hamburgers. There’s no shortage of food costumes thanks to Levi, Asmo, and Beel.

Suspicious about baby food, bugs Satan about how nutritious it is, and tries all of it just to be sure.

Some of their teething toys look like real food. Beelzebub ate one on accident.

Is a perfect gentle giant. Afraid of hurting them, for they are tiny and precious, but gets over that pretty quickly.

Always wants to cuddle and hold them. You have to make him leave them alone to sleep. Gets kind of sad when they’re napping because he can’t make faces at them or hear them laugh. Right back to his usual self when they wake up, though.

You best believe they learn their alphabet by studying food. Beelzebub will stand in the kitchen and dig through the pantry until he finds things that match the letters of the alphabet

Belphegor

He’s kind of surprised you ended up pregnant because the sex is usually lazy and casual. Yes, he has the moments where it’s pretty hardcore, but...wow. For some reason, he just didn’t see you getting pregnant.

Secretly hopes you have more than one kid. Something in him would just be happy if there’s more than one kid. You think it comes from the time he spent alone in the attic but never say it.

Sleeps a lot more. Not out of avoidance or anything, but because naps will be rare in the future. He likes to think he’s stockpiling sleep.

Makes sure you’re comfy at all times.

Would love for you to sleep and be cozy but apparently that’s not healthy for humans, so he takes easy walks around the house and keeps you semi-active.

He’ll give you his cow pillow to use as a back pillow. It’s his way of letting the baby use it until he can share it with them.

Listens to a lot of audiotapes about parenting. Looks at books, too, but does better with audio.

Reads a new bedtime story to your kid every night.

Sometimes you guys sleep in the star room so he can talk to them about constellations. They can’t see anything, of course, but he still goes into detail.

Isn’t much of a picture person and doesn’t see the point in taking maternity pictures. It’s actually because Belphie has a photographic memory so he remembers everything.

The bros force him into taking maternity pictures.

The type to journal everything. He writes a big-ass, super-detailed diary for the baby.

Is kind of worried about his temperament, so he’ll take some classes on how to handle stress and stuff before the babies arrive

Becomes King of Lists. There’s lists for everything. Lists help. Lists are good.

When he finds out you’re having triplets (a boy and two girls), he doesn’t know how to react. You saw him smile though. It doesn’t sink in until you’re hugging him. “I’m never sleeping again,” he realizes with absolute terror.

Beelzebub is super excited. “That’s twins plus a bonus!”

Very snobby about the nursery decor. Also very tactile like Asmodeus. If it doesn’t feel good, it’s not going in the nursery.

Wants a barn-themed nursery (to include as many cow-related things as possible)

You get the comfiest PJs.

With three kids, he lives by embroidery. He has to have a way to tell them apart, after all (the girls, at least).

Can’t hoard the babies but wants to. Hates that he doesn’t have enough arms to hold them all at the same time.

Is very interested by their tendency to hold each other and nap together. Finds it super adorable.

Makes a super-sized crib he can climb in and sleep with them. It’s basically a Belphie-sized bed with little attachments his kids sleep in. Separates them all just enough so he doesn’t worry about hurting them, but there’s still contact

Thanks whatever god exists that they mostly stay on a schedule together. Makes it stressful for changing diapers, but very fun to feed them.

Almost dies laughing when Lucifer holds them for the first time because one vomited on him, the other sneezed in his face, and one pooped so much it got on his pants leg.

Lulls them to sleep with his happy purr, and gets woken up from a dead sleep by pure love when they make the sound back. Suddenly there’s three chirpy purrs rolling against him and he’s in love.

Proud they love their mama so much (to the point of being TOTAL mama’s kids), but also kind of relieved he can breathe.

The three trade off occasionally when they realize he’s free real estate and come to him for snuggles. They all love him so he doesn’t mind.

This house supports cuddle piles! Belphie got them hooked on group naps for a young age and they sleep together now.

Hope you liked it :)

#Obey Me!#Obey me! x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #levi x reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmo x Reader #Satan x Reader #beelzebub x reader #Beel x Reader #Belphegor x Reader #Belphie x Reader

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dyketubbo · 3 years

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when you get a chance, thoughts on seer of space tubbo?

(i am also open to maid of space tubbo, and many others, but i am currently seer leaning)

*wakes up* oh boy time to classpect! under the readmore because seers are interesting enough that i ended up going on a tangent

of course no argument about the aspect because hes 100% a space player, ive discussed heir before i believe, so seer analysis it is, because i havent thought about it before (seers slip my mind sometimes, i love them, my brain is just the equivalent of a ground with a bunch of banana peels and cant handle having more than 4 coherent thoughts at a time).

like said with knights, he doesnt exactly try to tell anyone what he wants to come off as, sure he wants to be intimidating enough that people leave him alone, but, well. he does fit the intimidating thing, its less a facade and more a warning, he doesnt want to hurt anyone, but he will should he deem it necessary (thankfully, tubbos kind enough that he deems it unecessary in most cases). hes a bit too likely to follow through, and its bred from feeling unsafe, rather than feeling insecure. c!tubbo knows he can do things, the cc is more likely to downplay what he does than the character is (not that c!tubbo doesnt, but he does still believe in his abilities, he just doesnt think hes important enough to emphasize his impact. difference between going "oh no it was all __" and going "oh no it wasnt just me" when theres something hes done most of the work on)

so, he almost fits knight, at least in abilities, after all knights are capable and they know theyre capable, and hes very good at the exploitation aspect, pushing limitations and using them for their benefits. i could see him as maybe a knight thats actually gotten past the insecurity and facades already, if we're to consider his spy history as him being pre-actualization. being a space player doesnt really change how solid knight arcs are, so the combination of knight and space doesnt make knight much more fitting for tubbo

similarly, he does fit a few aspects of being a seer (having similar struggles, talking a shitton sometimes, sitting back and observing the world around him when he finds it beneficial to do so, generally very smart especially within their group), but not so much others (seers are often overbearingly smug in a way tubbos a bit too humble for, learning through education rather than experience, having a habit of getting too focused on their goal, and theyre overall passive, being too active is actually how they get themselves into shit, while tubbo gets hurt when hes too passive). seers of space focus more on the present than the future or past, which almost fits tubbo.. if it werent for the fact that he doesnt focus on the future or past out of repression cknsks. not that he would much anyways, but the intentional focus on the present is out of stubborness and trauma rather an actual trait of staying in the present. notably, theres quite a few times where tubbo does think about the past and future, especially when he was younger, and he does try to work towards his ideal future, he just doesnt talk about it much.

funnily enough, because of where seer falls through, he ends up being closer to the mage struggle of, well, getting their asses kicked when theyre too passive because things work out best when theyre involving themselves. mages also have that posturing thing as well, though its connected to intelligence (desperately trying to come off as smarter because they believe theyre still too dumb and naïve, even though theyre actually doing fine), so again, not exactly tubbos kind of posturing. plus, hes pissy, but not pissy enough for a mage, as theyre more likely to get caught up in how fed up they are with everything, while tubbo gets caught up in how much he still cares no matter how much he seems like he doesnt. the space aspect adds that theres.. a shitton of shit happening to and around him, which does fit, at least, and mages of space usually suffer because of their passions, knowledge, and experience, as well as they're rather hands on. again, fits, but, well.

seers and mages are a bit too focused on knowledge for the kind of person tubbo is. hes smart for sure, has a lot of knowledge, and even when hes not a spy he does want to know things and looks for that knowledge, but while he fits the goals and positives of seers (and mages), he doesnt exactly fit their flaws or what happens when theyre unhealthy. not that he needs to show signs of being unhealthy, but even healthy players still show an ability to be the unhealthy versions of their classes. he doesnt get his ass kicked for being too active and tunnel visioned like seers do (and it can sometimes come from ego trips, which tubbos very unlikely to have, even if he fits the "my solution is the most correct here, so we have to follow it" part of it all) like seers, he doesnt have any moments of just refusing to learn and complaining about how everything sucks rather than doing anything about it (nor is he likely too) like mages. he does vaguely fit where the unhealthiness of a knight can come in, propping up a shield to a ridiculous extent and lashing out when their insecurites are picked at, but that feels a bit too reckless to be tubbo (though it does fit tommy).

overall, i can kind of see seer for a slightly different version of tubbo, but it feels too passive for tubbo, if that makes sense. he is passive at least, in terms of classes anyways (note- despite how some classpectors define it, passive doesnt really mean you serve others, its not an insult, it just means you weave your aspect through others, rather than yourself. its the difference between a prince destroying x/destroying through x and a bard allowing destruction of x/inviting destruction through x. still listen to passive classes, thats what seers fall into after all, and seers are very important). its just that tubbo usually gets hurt by being too passive rather than getting hurt by being too active (not that it couldnt happen, which is why i say it could still fit under other circumstances).

speaking of passive v active, if i had to pick a passive class i feel fits tubbo the most, probably heir. active wise, id say maid does actually fit rather well. i feel like ive talked about maid tubbo before but i might be remembering a different analysis so just in case ill generally say i feel he fits the arc of going from a "doormat" to taking their life for themselves. theyre stubborn, stressed out from listening to others, like banter, occassionally silly and can start arguing in circles due to the stubborness (think that one patrick id scene, but smarter). maids are also heavy repressers, they fear being seen as weak, and are unwilling to ask for help. they rely on their environment and hate it.

and, painfully enough, some classpectors state that when pushed into being unhealthy, maids explode. maids are already intimidating on their own, being powerful and smart enough to know what to do with that power, and when they get stressed out enough, they, well, explode. they hurt everyone in one big event (think aradias actions in make her pay). its not necessarily a reckless lashing out at everyone like knights, but a giant burnout that happens to effect everyone. tubbos not at a point where it seems likely for this to happen, but i wouldnt be too surprised if something like it did happen were things to get too be too much. he is the mf with nukes after all. healthy maids are independent, with maids of space specifically, well, making space for themselves and others (sound like a certain snow commune anyone), attempting to start new lives. an independent maid, allowed to be their own person without anyone stepping on them, is a healthy maid. unfortunate for tubbo that his life fucking sucks too hard for him to really get to this point KEKW

heirs fit a similar "followed others then became more independent" arc, mostly unaware that theyre being lead around but, if whats happening aligns with their own ideals, dont really care much that theyre being a follower when they are aware of such. heirs have an instinct to stick to comfort, rather than an instinct to be independent like maids. heirs still need to find their independence and autonomy, but need to do so because they can change things, theyre also very powerful when they play correctly. however, going against what they may feel is best and is more comfortable for them can be actively painful, early heirs often would rather be comfortable and happy even if things arent going well than take the difficult route, know that theyll suffer, and temporarily risk comfort and happiness in an attempt to reach an end they dont know will be there for sure. they can deal with suffering, but choosing to stay constantly aware of this suffering hurts and they struggle with dealing with the fact that they need to be aware to stop the suffering.

heirs change by picking up on subtle details naturally, subconsciously effecting those around them, making either themself or others interact with their aspect differently (or actively not think with their own aspect, in a positive way). heirs, when self aware, want to help. thats an important detail, and its why heirs are often protagonists, they dont have the ambition to do things that only benefit themselves when they realize theyre in a position of power. at their core, heirs usually want to make things better, but learning to move on and better themselves can hurt, and it takes a lot for heirs to to let it be apart of the process.

unhealthy heirs fade. they get so stressed out by getting hurt that they shrink back into themselves, they stick with what makes them comfortable and refuse to acknowledge that they and others are hurting, wrapped up in their more selfish instincts and becoming hard and stressful to deal with. "i want everything to be okay" becomes "i dont want to deal with the idea that nothings okay right now", soon getting to "im okay and you cant tell me otherwise, fuck you if you want to take this away from me, you cant stop me but i will stop you". of course, that last one can be useful if a heir were to use it to change things for the better, but the tunnel vision on "i want to be comfortable even if im making others uncomfortable" is, well. shitty. unhealthy heirs wont actively try to hurt anyone unless pushed, but they can they can still manage to through a lack of acknowledging that they have to help. and well, that sounds somewhat like tubbo, the hurting through a lack of helping, at the very least its present in things like him not visiting tommy during exile (partially because it was safer to just not challenge dream, partially out of guilt and belief that tommy hated him)

heirs of space specifically are about flitting from project to project, learning about what interests them, impatient when others dont share their excitement, and learning when to adapt and move on from things. generally, if i had to put a scale on it, id say tubbos most likely to be a heir, then a maid, then a seer. it all depends on what aspects of him you wanna focus on, really. seer tubbo is really interesting though! i think seers are more smug than he is though, not that he doesnt have his moments, but his tendency to believe hes right isnt all too prominent compared to other traits of his, and its less from a smug "i know whats right" and more just a firm "this isnt right, i have a better idea". he wants to do whats right, but if he feels like he doesnt know whats right, hes willing to rely on others, it just.. takes him a bit of pushing to admit such

#i took like 5 hours on this hope you appreciate it max /lh #i enjoy classpecting though and i enjoy tubbo even more so its alright #dsmp #tubbo #dsmp classpects #hs #angel answers #long post #(iirc about 14 or 16 paragraphs maybe?#*)

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years

Text

General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: I’ve been so ill recently I’ve read this chapter so many times the words blur together. It’s time to let it go!

Warnings: Force use, nausea mention, Hux is livid, Kylo is annoyed. Shits about to hit the fan.

Word Count: 2677

Read Chapter 16 here on AO3 here.

Hux had showered, was dressed and downstairs flicking through his datapad before you even surfaced. He had on a clean uniform and his coat was resting on his shoulders. As he sat in the kitchen sipping some black caf.

“Meilli?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Can you go and help her get dressed? I really should be leaving soon.” She dipped her head before scurrying away to find you. Beldon, came in through the side door, shaking out the umbrella before placing it in the stand.

“Did you intercept it?” Hux asked curtly, not even looking up.

“Yes Grand Marshal, I did.” Now Hux did look up, seeing the datastick resting in his housekeeper's hand. “What shall I do with it, Sir?”

“I shall take it back with me and analyse it on the Finalizer.”

“May I speak freely?” Hux paused for a moment before nodding. “Why don’t you leave it for My Lady to find and see what she does with it? I think she is loyal, Sir.” Hux frowned. He wanted you to be loyal, he didn’t want to think you’d been here on Arkanis conversing with Resistance sympathisers, but the rumours of them infiltrating First Order occupied worlds were getting too loud to ignore.

“Alright, put it with her stuff.” He rose when he heard you coming down the stairs, his heart he noticed was steady, not racing away with itself like it usually did. You saw him, your eyes full of sadness at the idea of him leaving until you saw the crate resting on the kitchen floor.

“That’s mine,” you stated nervously.

“Yes, you’re coming with me.” He murmured before placing a kiss on your head.

“But Armitage….I can’t.” Your voice was desperate as you clutched the edge of his coat. “The Supreme Leader…”

“Leave Ren to me.” His expression softened slightly in the face of your obvious panic. “I cannot be parted from you again.”

“Ok.” It was barely a whisper and you buried your face into his chest not wanting to be parted from him either.

The ride in the shuttle was quiet, the white lights of hyperspace flickered through the ship highlighting Hux’s profile as he carried on reading his datapad, catching up and whatever he had missed by being on Arkanis.

“How is Mitaka?” You waited for a response but it was clear his mind was elsewhere. “Armitage?” You said softly, making his head snap up in irritation.

“Oh, yes he can’t wait to see you,” he murmured offhandedly and you decided to settle back and endure the rest of the ride in quiet. You just wanted some conversation to try and dull the rising panic that had begun to weave its way through you like smoke. Slow and steady with each passing parsec it grew thicker the closer you got to Kylo Ren.

You tried not to look like you were staying close to Hux but you bumped his shoulder a couple of times when you both came down the ramp, instantly you looked around for a large brooding figure coming for you and your husband but there was nothing except some stormtroopers and Mitaka. His face broke out into a smile when he saw you before turning to Hux.

“Lieutenant, please escort my wife to my chambers. I have a meeting to get to.” You watched Hux stride off without so much as a glance in your direction and you frowned. Something was wrong…or maybe he was just nervous having you back on the ship.

“Are you ready?” You smiled again.

“Yes Dopheld, I am.” You linked your arm with him letting him chat randomly as he led you to the Grand Marshal’s quarters.

Your crate was delivered and you started unpacking once the Lieutenant had excused himself. As you pulled out some clothing to hang up something fell to the floor, you frowned seeing a datastick come to a stop over by the table. At first you had assumed it belonged to Hux and you put it on the table but something was niggling at you. It had been in your crate and he had no luggage, so why would his items get mixed within yours? You tried to ignore it but then you had the thought what if it was something to do with the estate? Letting loose a sigh of resignation you plugged it into the holotable, watching as it delved into the port. A holoimage flickered to life and began to play a message, you didn’t recognise the person or their voice and you wondered if this was actually Hux’s after all.

“Thank you for plugging this stick in, you are well on your way to becoming a Resistance member! My name is Poe Dameron, make a note of that I want them to know who is stealing all the First Order codes and secrets as we speak….” The world came crashing down around you and you flew for the port, scrabbling to pull out the stick but it had fixed itself into the table, tears clouded your vision and you gasped in wild panic. Could this be traced through the ship? This was Hux’s personal holotable, everything would be on here, everything.

“No! No no no no!” You felt anger filter through your obvious panic, you had told Anika no. You had told her you wouldn’t betray Armitage no matter if you were married or not and yet here you were, betraying your husband, the First Order and everything you believed in.

“You might just want to check no ones coming for you, if they are, give this to the first trooper that asks for it and the stick of secrets will find its way to us. The Finalizer is our playground.” The man said smugly in the image. “Commander Poe Dameron over and out!” The stick jolted up, releasing its hold on the port and you grabbed it out ready to throw it away from you when there was a hurried knock at the door. You froze, only the sound of your heart reached your ears and you waited for whoever it was to go away but they tapped smartly on the door again. You put the stick behind your back and opened the door, a lone trooper stood there, his helmet tilted to the side at the sight of you.

“You’re the spy?” He hissed in disbelief.

“I’m no spy!” You demanded and he held his hands out to shush you.

“Do you have it? The stick?”

“This?” You flinched as he wrenched it from your grasp and hurried without another word down the corridor. A sense of relief washed over you, now it was gone you could feint all ignorance.

The more time marched on the more confident you became that what you’d accidentally done had gone unnoticed. You were pouring a cup of caf when Hux returned, you smiled asking if he wanted a cup stopping when you saw him looking at your almost empty crate. His expression was hard and his eyes seemed to be searching for something, your smile faltered.

“What’s wrong? Are you looking for something?” You asked a little too brightly.

“A datastick.”

“Oh! Was that yours? A trooper came by asking for it so I thought you’d sent him to come and get it. I did wonder why it was in my…”

“No it wasn’t mine.” You clamped your mouth shut, his eyes like two burning lasers on your face as he advanced towards you.

“Oh,” you swallowed nervously. “Whose was it then?” You leaned away from him slightly when he came to a stop right in front of you, he seemed to tower over you more than normal, if he was being intimidating it was working.

“Yours.” He spat it at you almost, making you flinch slightly.

“I don’t know….”

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO LIE TO ME!” You cowered, your hands clutching the chair as fear roiled inside you.

“Armitage you’re frightening me!” He grabbed your clothing at the shoulder, pulling you up and close to his furious face, the red blush that he always got when angry had already reached the tips of his ears.

“I’m not even the most terrifying one,” he snarled in your ear. “I’m so…” his voice broke and you sneaked a look at his face. His eyes were slightly pleading through the anger and you felt your heart fracture at the expression.

“Armitage, I promise….” You shut your mouth abruptly as he shook you harshly.

“You are such a disappointment to me.” You gasped when he hauled you through the door, your feet almost dragging along the floor and you struggled to keep up with him. Stormtroopers watched with interest at their Grand Marshal dragging you down the corridors, many moving sharply aside as Hux stormed past them. He stopped at a conference room, the door opened and before you could register what was happening he threw you into the room with a strength that was hidden by his slim form. Air expelled from you abruptly when you collided with the floor, you curled up against the pain that exploded through your abdomen and you saw a pair of black leather boots enter your line of sight. Slowly he crouched before you, the mask covered his face but it was different, red glowing lines marked the surface giving him a more frightful appearance.

“What do we have here, Grand Marshal?” His voice was so similar as it slithered out of the vocoder but no less dangerous, your eyes stared back into the sightless pits trying not to give away how terrified you were.

“The traitor we’ve been looking for,” your husband spat vehemently.

“No!” You cried out. “I’ve been on Arkanis, how could it be me?” Kylo tilted his mask to look up at Hux.

“You’re the one who brought her on board.” He said calmly, noticing how Hux rocked back on his heels as though Kylo had punched him. “Maybe you’re in this together.”

“Supreme Leader I can assure you….” Kylo raised a finger to point at Hux, halting his words.

“I shall interrogate her, and you’re next.” He stated. A pair of troopers grabbed your arms and dragged you upright, you shot a terrified look at Hux but he refused to even acknowledge you, his face pinched and angry that he could even be associated with this. With you.

“Armitage!” The cry fell from you in the vain hope he’d just look at you.

“While I deal with her, maybe you could oversee the capture of the rogue trooper before I strip you of everything.” Hux turned sharply and left you. He didn’t even glance in your direction, he just left you at the mercy of the most powerful man in the Galaxy.

“Now, where shall we begin?”

“No Kylo please…!” But your begging was futile. His hand outstretched towards you and you tried to recoil but the troopers held you steady. Pain blossomed behind your eyes even though you tried to block him it was no good, he had grown even more powerful and he easily broke down your meagre boundaries. Faces, so many faces all from Arkanis, the wedding, Oakley….Kylo happily replayed the moment where Hux had interrupted the almost kiss and you could feel his amusement. “Go ahead! Laugh! You made me do this!” You gasped through the searing pain as he delved deeper.

“I didn’t make you do anything,” he rumbled. The words brought up the image of the surprised trooper at your door and Kylo controlled the memory, almost rewinding it making your stomach heave with nausea. “Hold her!” He snapped at the troopers who had clearly moved away thinking you were going to be sick.

“The Finalizer is our playground…” Poe’s words lingered in your mind as Kylo withdrew and you sagged heavily. He gestured for the troopers to leave, they left you leaning against the table, the room spinning as you tried to get your bearings. Kylo paced up and down before coming to a stop and removing his mask. His hazel eyes watched you slump to the floor, he placed his mask on the table with a thump before crouching down to your level again.

“The Resistance seems to have a claim on my ship.”

“It’s Armitage’s ship,” you managed to say between breaths. He rolled his lips, his jaw flexing, the muscle under his eye twitching.

“Still so loyal, even when he is not,” he retorted softly.

“What…what do you mean?” His eyes studied your face before responding.

“Who do you think planted it in your luggage?” You shook your head and wished you hadn’t, your brain felt like it had detached and you winced.

“My luggage had passed through so many troopers before it made its way to me and then it was in the house on Arkanis.”

“You think I am willing to blame my own army…” he started but you cut across him.

“You’re willing to blame the one man who controls them.” You snapped quickly.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” he snarled.

“He came and got me, he chose me over all this.” Kylo smirked before standing to his full height.

“Yes, he really chose you over all this.” He said copying your words. “That’s why he’s here fighting your corner,” he pointed out snarkily. You felt defeated, he was right, but you refused to believe Hux would turn on you so quickly….like you had turned on him.

“Oh…” you looked imploringly at him as realisation struck you. “Oh!” The sobs smacked painfully into your chest, Kylo stood there, indifference written all over his face and watched as you cried. No emotion showed on his features as he let you wind down of your own accord before continuing.

“He has had many months to plan this, to set you up. He followed the rumours of Resistance sympathisers all the way back, to, you,” he pointed out.

“No I swear! I barely spoke to anyone on Arkanis! I dealt with the death of my father and the selling of the house before…before…”

“Attending the wedding of your good friend Anika Elloway.” He strode away from you, his cloak swaying. Your mind raced as you watched him, they had been watching you the whole time but who? Beldon. He knew your every coming and going because you’d trusted him, because he had run the house, because he was loyal to the family.

“I didn’t…” you closed your eyes and fisted your hand as you remembered Anika asking to speak with you at the wedding but there were ears. You had refused all details from her after she declared Oakley was looking to marry. Yes you had needed to find a new husband but you didn’t want to help the Resistance and you had told her as such. You’d gone in all your First Order glory but they still had tried to set you up and now you were taking the fall for a group of people who didn’t care about you at all. “I had no idea…” your gaze rose to Kylo, taking in the back of his head as he looked out of the viewport. “You have to believe me Kylo!” You pleaded.

“You will be detained in a cell until we can decide what to do with you.”

“No! Please!” You cried out as the troopers reentered to retrieve you off the floor, but your cries went unheard. Hopelessness coloured your world the further they dragging you into the ship until you were thrown unceremoniously into a dark cell. Huddling in a corner when the door slammed shut on you, echoing through the room leaving you in no doubt there was no room for escape. There was no one to save you, Hux had thrown you to the mercy of the First Order and the taped up cracks in your heart reshattered. How could you be so stupid? So naive? But still, you clutched to the small slither of hope that Hux wouldn’t let any harm come to you.

#star wars #echoes of the heart #general hux x female reader #general hux x you #general hux/reader #general hux/you #general hux x reader #general hux/female reader #armitage hux x female reader #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux/female reader #armitage hux/you #armitage hux/reader #general hux angst #kylo ren #my writing #mylifeisactuallyamess

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Callisto - Part Five - Orientation

Things actually start happening now :D

As always, many, many thanks to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 @janetm74 and @onereyofstarlight for all their amazing help. We’re deep into the hard slog now, but I am still enjoying this so that is a good sign :D

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this and cheer me on. The hard slog of the middle of a long fic can be as bad as the hard slog in the middle of a painting, so all cheering is always welcome. But ultimately, I’m hoping you are find this enjoyable and not boring :D Nutty is learning here, so big L plate on my forehead.

Let the antics continue.

-o-o-o-

Virgil stared at his father’s broad back as he walked the length of the gantry toward the elevator. Scott paused a moment and Virgil placed a hand on his back in support. Muscle beneath many micro layers of spacesuit rippled as his brother loosened his shoulders. A glance of fiery blue and Scott followed his father.

As was the way of things.

Virgil followed Scott.

As was the way of things.

The cavern was a large one. It had to be to fit Three beneath its airlock doors. His heads up display confirmed pressurisation of the bay to Earth normal and his mind did the calculations on the infrastructure required to pump that much atmosphere into such a large space so quickly. He couldn’t help but be impressed.

The gantry led to an elevator platform and they crowded onto it. Gordon brushed up against him as if to catch his attention and a worried frown was shot in Virgil’s direction.

As the gantry retracted and the platform lowered, Virgil let a hand brush against Gordon’s side. If he did the same to Alan, well, they were his brothers and he may have needed the connections a little himself.

The ride down gave them a great view of the heavy equipment available in the bay. Virgil had accessed all the information he could get his hands on during the trip out, needing to know how he was going to deploy their own equipment.

He had known this was going to be an underground job and had packed accordingly. The problem with underground was initial deployment - how to get the equipment under the ground.

The backup was always to make their own holes. But that could be unnecessarily messy and a last resort. So Virgil was quite happy to see the set up included all the heavy-duty crane and hover support he could ever want.

TI had equipped this expedition exceedingly well.

Walters met them at the bottom of the bay. The rock had been ground smooth down here, filler shone in places where ice had obviously been removed, making the floor a patchwork of white and dark grey, human ingenuity and raw moon.

The Commander nodded to Scott, but it was their father whose hand he grasped solidly before pulling him into a hug. “Space Jockey, it is so good to see you. Thank you for coming.” Walters stepped back and held Jeff at arms’ length. “You’ve gone grey.”

“And you’re bald. Your point?” But their father was grinning through the plasiglass of his helmet.

“We’re both a little crunchy around the edges.” He turned to Lee. “Hey, Scrappy.”

“Graeme, I may be old, but I can still kick your ass over that.” Despite the threat, Uncle Lee grabbed the man’s hand and shook it with enthusiasm.

“These are my boys.” Dad gestured at them in turn. “Scott, Virgil, Gordon and Alan. John is still aboard the Excel and will be liaising from there.”

Walters nodded at each of them in turn, his white-grey spacesuit wrinkling with the movement. He had his helmet on just like the IR crew did. Best chance to avoid contamination or some random bug the Tracys might had inadvertently brought with them.

Of course, Virgil and John had run the decon protocols before departure and it was obvious Callisto had its own methods, but the risk was there. Helmets on unless they had no choice.

Another thing about space that was annoying - listening to your own breathing in a confined container. Okay for short term, total annoyance long term. Especially if your nose got itchy.

It was a sign that Virgil really needed more sleep when he managed to miss a chunk of what Walters was saying simply because he was designing an in-helmet nose scratcher in his head. Well, it could be multifunctional if he gave it enough reach. Head scratcher, chin scratcher-

Gordon nudged him.

Unfortunately, right in his bruises. “Ow.” He glared at his brother only to find the fish gesturing with his eyes.

Commander Walters was looking at Virgil with a question on his face. Both Scott and Dad were frowning at him. Oh shit. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“The Commander asked if we would like to survey the entrance to the caves first or deploy our equipment.” Dad’s voice was very...patient. “Scott said it was your decision.”

Virgil didn’t hesitate, regardless of the embarrassment. “I’ve scoured your maps, Commander, but I would be happier if you could show us the entrance to the cave network. It’s not far?” maps and diagrams were one thing. Reality was another.

Walters eyed him a little curiously. “Sure. Follow me.” And he led them towards a set of massive doors.

For a moment there, Virgil expected some grinding machinery to split the doors wide like some grand movie entrance complete with cinematic music, but no, Walters led them to a small airlock embedded in the left door and ushered them through.

It was kind of disappointing actually.

“We keep the Garden isolated as a precaution and as a way to monitor the function of the ecosystem.

“Garden?” Alan had obviously not had time to fully read up on the Base like the rest of them.

Walters’ eyes lit up despite everything. “You are in for a treat. The Garden is our horticultural team’s ultimate triumph.”

The doors opened and sunlight flooded into the airlock. And it was sunlight enough for Virgil’s jaw to drop. They stepped out into an environment so familiar, they may as well have stepped out the back door of the villa.

Except it wasn’t. The plants were recognisable, yes, but their growth most definitely was not.

This was not in the briefing notes.

“This looks suspiciously familiar.” It was Gordon who stepped to the front of the group.

Walters frowned. “Excuse me.”

Gordon’s eyes narrowed in on the man. He pointed at a nearby tree. “Pokey trees don’t get that big in five years, Commander. What’s in the water?”

It was Walters’ turn to frown. “Pokey trees?” A blink. “Oh, pohutukawa. No, they do not. However, with some special treatment and the lack of strong gravity, they can.”

Virgil stared up at the giant tree. It was far too thin at the base for the spread of the massive branches and it seem wrong somehow. Everything was too long and looked as if it was going to fall. What was even more odd was the sound of a honeyeater argument in those branches. A scuffle, a ruckus of squawks and a flash of grey and yellow flew out from amongst the leaves and darted over the rocky hill in front of them.

“You have birds?!” Gordon sounded caught between amazement and outrage.

Walters stared at him a moment longer. “We have much more than that.” He turned away and led them away from the tree and up a winding path. Virgil’s boots crunched gravel that glittered as it moved. He frowned at what was probably nothing more than ground up moon. It was pale and sparkling like some set prop out of an early science fiction show John might have watched.

But he was soon distracted by much more fascinating sights.

The path led up a small hill and soon he realised that they were in a massive cavern, bigger than all the hangars beneath Tracy Island combined.

And it was full of life.

Birds of several different kinds flew about the ‘sky’. A sky dominated by a number of extremely bright lights hanging from a ceiling so high it couldn’t be seen for the brilliance. Oddly growing foliage was everywhere. The lone pokey tree by the door was scarlet in blossom, but it was not alone. Flowers sprouted from wonky stems and too tall grass. The little hill they were standing on was the highest point in the cavern, the ground sloping down into the distance. At the far edge, a lake had ducks swimming in it.

“How the hell?” It was Gordon, but Virgil’s questions were not far behind.

Several physical requirements clicked into place. The cavern was obviously heated and pressurised with an Earth level atmosphere just like the hangar, otherwise those birds wouldn’t be able to fly beyond bouncing in the gravity.

While Gordon’s head seemed ready to explode, Virgil managed one word. “How?”

Walters had a quietly confident smirk on his face. “A combination of research, applied science and a whole pile of luck.” A sigh. “This is Ju’s baby.”

Scott shifted where he stood. “Where is the access to the cave network?” Virgil glanced at his brother. There was an intensity in his eyes that spoke of both mission urgency and further questions that would need asking once that mission was complete.

Walters exhaled and nodded. “This way.” He led them down the other side of the hill to what eventually proved to be another set of massive doors. “The caverns were here when we arrived. We knew of them before we left Earth, but what we did not realise was their extent.” Walters stopped in front of the doors. He gestured at the cavern. “To create all this, we only needed to seal the cavern entrance overhead – which the Base did nicely. We installed a series of atmospheric inducers, the heating and the lighting. The rest we grew from seed or egg.” The man was obviously proud of their achievements.

“Sir, the caves?” Scott was getting rightfully impatient.

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.” He swallowed and hurried over to yet another small door within a door.

Virgil took another step forward, intending on seeing how the door was unlocked when his world suddenly doubled. His stomach rolled over with that familiar nausea ever so reminiscent of their trip out here.

He swallowed and closed his eyes a second.

“Virg? You okay?” Gordon was whispering on a closed channel.

Virgil cranked his eyes open, lack of sleep suddenly piling on top of him. His fish brother was frowning at him. Scott, their father and Uncle Lee were walking towards Walters and the door.

The sudden vertigo had him fearing an incident inside his helmet.

But then as he took a step towards Gordon, the nausea faded away, a single last cramp dissipating as his little brother approached and put a hand on his arm.

“Virg?”

“I’m okay. Just felt dizzy for a second there.”

“T-drive?”

“Probably.”

“Meds wearing off?”

“Didn’t think I would need them.”

Now Alan had stopped following Scott and was looking back. Any minute now and he would have not only Scott on his ass, but Dad as well. He straightened his spine. “I’m good.” But whatever it was had triggered the beginnings of a headache.

Damn.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d completed a rescue with a headache. He’d throw back some paracetamol when they went back to Three to source their equipment.

“You sure?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

Gordon held up his hands. “Just checking, bro. Don’t get your pants in a twist. Hard to unknot them out here.”

But Gordon was still frowning at him.

Alan was turning back...

Move or get smothered.

He flexed his shoulders and strode off to join the rest of this family.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared after his heavy lifting brother.

Damn that T-drive. His own stomach hadn’t fully recovered either and Virgil was obviously still feeling it.

Gordon pondered whether Virg could knock him out for the voyage home. Maybe knock both of them out.

Alan was frowning and gesturing for him to hurry up. Scott and Dad had already entered what turned out to be yet another airlock.

Space was hard work.

He kicked at the gravel as he trotted after his brother and darted into the huge airlock with his brothers.

Walters was talking again as he sealed the door behind them. “The cavern appears to have been a terminus for this branch of the cave network.” Walters should seek a job as a tour guide. “As I said earlier, we knew about some of the caves before we arrived, but it became increasingly clear that our sensors weren’t telling the full story when we discovered exactly how many tunnels are under the surface here.”

Gordon felt the room depressurise and his HUD declared the atmosphere had become almost nothing. He frowned. It was still something though and he remembered that Callisto was one of those odd places that had the bare minimum of a bunch of gases clinging to it.

He was pretty sure that if he pinged Johnny, he could give him an essay on it, Jupiter luny fan he was.

Walters opened the other side of the airlock and led them through.

Oh, wow.

They were once again in a cavern, a smaller one to the one they had just left and it was obviously more in its natural state. The big doors were sealed into one wall and a lighting system had been deployed running off into the distance.

And there was a lot of distance. The cavern was definitely a tunnel, a good twenty metres wide and high. But that wasn’t all that had his jaw dropping.

The walls were sparkling in the light.

Walters must have seen his reaction or the reaction of his family. “Pretty amazing, huh? The walls are full of a mix of ice and rock. The ice catches the light, but there is also an unusual amount of mineralised crystal as well. We’ve found several types of quartz along with precious metals.”

Gordon was only half listening to him. He wandered over to the nearest wall and examined it. Ice. Water. But in a way it was rarely seen on Earth. Kinda interesting. He ran a hand over the wall and frowned. “You say this is natural?”

“Other than stringing up the lights and installing the doors, from here on, it is pure Callisto.”

“This was made by running water.” Even Gordon knew how impossible that was in the current environment. He looked up to find everyone staring at him. “Hey, I know my element when I see it. This wall has been eroded by running water.”

Walters slumped just a little. “Thank you. Ju has been saying that since we got here. Unfortunately, we can’t work out how that can possibly be a thing, but yeah, all the tunnels, if we were on Earth? Water made. Like limestone caves apparently.” A snort. “Ju has been very adamant about it.”

“Have you reported this?” Dad’s voice startled Gordon a little.

“Reported? Sure. But all her peers are less than accepting. All signs point to Callisto as having had no crustal movement since it formed, minor atmosphere, and certainly no running water at these pressures.”

“But this is a fact.” Gordon frowned again. “What about the reports of an ocean on Callisto under the crust.” Yes, he had checked that out. This wasn’t his first Jovian moon after all. It was why he had brought Four with him.

“Too far down. We can’t reach it. And besides, it is impossible for water to exist as a liquid on the surface, there is not enough atmospheric pressure. We’re barely five hundred metres down here. We haven’t been able to explain it, and until we do, it is considered only one possible and likely doubtful explanation.”

Gordon turned back to the wall. It glittered at him as if daring him to discover its mysteries. “Virg?”

“Hmm?” His brother’s voice was distracted enough to distract Gordon. He flicked over to a private comm. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Gordon. What did you want?”

Gordon grunted. “You got something to test the rocks?”

“If needs be. We have a rescue to complete first.” Virgil killed the private line and turned to Walters. “I’m satisfied. Scott, we need some recon. I recommend we get two dragonflies down here.”

Scott nodded. “Okay, we are go. Alan, you’re with me. Gordon, you’re Virgil’s wingman.”

As it should be.

Besides, Gordon wanted to keep an eye on their resident lumberjack. He was acting weird.

“Dad, you and Uncle Lee are our liaisons with Base.”

Gordon bit his lip.

“Scott-“

The Commander of International Rescue held up his hand, fire in his eyes. “No, arguments.”

Dad’s eyes latched onto Scott and flared, but Uncle Lee grabbed his arm. “Space Jockey...”

Grey eyes flickered to his best friend and got a dose of determined Lee Taylor for the effort.

Their father’s lips thinned as nobody moved for a whole moment, Scott emanating commander vibes all over the cavern. If Dad didn’t obey, all hell was going to let loose.

“Thunderbird Five to Callisto.” John’s voice echoed over multiple comms, a faint and unfamiliar hiss and crackle in the background.

The moment snapped and Scott tapped his comms. “We read you, Thunderbird Five.”

“There is considerable interference on comms, you should be aware. I cannot guarantee service at all times. Source is unknown.”

“Noted.”

Damn, that was going to make this even more difficult. They could get lost down here themselves.

But then this wouldn’t be the first time Gordon had worked without contact with his brothers.

First time in space, though.

“Scott, we have located two life signs.”

“What?!” Walters took a step forward and looked ready to climb into Scott’s commset to get further information.

The commander ignored him. “Details, Thunderbird Five.”

“Eos and I were able to work around the majority of the interference and we have two faint lifesigns registering to the north of Callisto Base, almost directly under Burr crater.”

“Only Two? We have five missing persons, Thunderbird Five.”

“I know, Scott.” John’s voice was calm but sad. “Eos is still working on that interference, but at this point I don’t expect to find more. We’ve been able to map the caverns and tunnels within a thousand-kilometre radius. Sending the data to your comms now. Other than those two, I’m reading nothing. I do not have enough resolution to locate anything more specific.”

Like dead bodies.

All of them shifted where they stood, caught between the positive of a location and the negative of three missing rescuees.

“Keep looking, Thunderbird Five.” Scott’s voice was empty of emotion.

They had a mission and now they had a target.

“FAB.”

The line cut out.

Virgil had already pulled up the map John supplied on his wrist ‘projector, his eyes combing the holographic maze of tunnels. Even from here Gordon could see they were massive. If these had been eroded by water, the rivers had been big.

But their history would have to wait. There were lives at stake and Scott was already moving back to the airlock, Virgil and the rest of the group hurrying to follow.

Gordon hesitated just a second, lured by the thought of water flowing through the rock in such a low-pressure environment that the liquid should be ice.

The walls sparkled at him.

But the mission...

He took a step forward and his foot kicked something tiny that bounced ahead of him. Frowning, he bent to pick it up.

The crystal was no bigger than his fingernail and sparkled pink in the lighting.

“Gordon!” Scott was glaring at him from inside the airlock.

The aquanaut shoved the stone into his kit and hurried to catch up.

Perhaps space was a little more interesting than he thought.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #Jeff Tracy #alan tracy #John Tracy #lee taylor #callisto

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 3 years

Text

Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) ~ Part 17

Summary: Sam inherits Steve Roger's crime empire after a handful of his men betray and kill him. The rest of the crime world, sensing an opening, go after Sam and the territories he's inherited from Steve. Thankfully, Steve left him a number, someone to call if he ever needs help. Someone, Steve claimed, he can trust. But can Sam really trust a mercenary with that much blood on his name? And that many knives in his pockets.

WARNINGS: (there will eventually be all of these things) blood, violence, murder, shooting, stabbing, sex, blood play , food related things: malnutrition, feeding, blow jobs, bathing/washing, chronic pain. Limb loss and regrowth. Bullet wounds. Gore.

18+ Content: Make Good Choices Kids <3

Ao3

Sam follows Bucky up two flights of stairs, blinking rapidly as the sun finally hits his eyes. Once the spots clear, his surroundings come into view. They're in some sort of entry way, there's dark red carpet on the floor, leading up another set of stairs. The building looked... well if Sam was being honest with himself the building looked dilapidated. The paint was peeling, the floors were far from clean, the iron railing along the stairs looked rusted, and Sam could swear even the bricks of the walls looked faded with age.

Bucky begins climbing the stairs, he looks back at Sam once, and he can see that he's frowning, his lip pulled between his teeth. Sam hears a noise and turns quickly, his hand going into his jacket on instinct, hand wrapping around his gun. He relaxes when he sees a man sitting on the floor in the corner, he's got the morning paper spread out on his lap.

"Morning Arthur." Bucky says, his voice a sigh, drawing Sam's attention. The man says nothing as Bucky continues up the stairs. Sam takes a few steps at a time to catch up and does his best to stay a step behind him.

Bucky leads him down a long hallway and then shoves a key into a doorknob. Sam's not exactly sure why he'd need a key in this building, surly no one else was living here. Sam bit his lip and refrained from commenting. He might be a criminal, but his mother had taught him manners. Bucky pushed the door open and held his hand through it, looking at Sam, his eyes only making it to Sam's shoulders. Sam watched him for a moment, Bucky's eyes rose no higher.

Sam stepped through the doorway and was glad to see that at least the apartment looked clean, new, Sam wouldn't go so far as to call it "lived in", but there was no trash on the ground, and the walls weren't peeling. He saw a small couch, and a tv that had been plugged into the wall and set on the floor. His eyes wandered for a moment longer, noting the kitchen to his right and then he startled when Bucky pushed the door shut with a click.

His shoulders tensed as he turned to look at Bucky, he was frowning again, and rubbing at the back of his neck. Sam said nothing. He'd never see Bucky this quiet, most of the time it was hard to shut him up. He watched Bucky lift his leg and scratch the back of his calf with the toe of his boot and it hit him. He's nervous. Bucky Barnes, is nervous. Sam glances around the room again, his eyes darting this way and that, and he feels what could only be pitty. He shoves the feeling away, knowing Bucky wouldn't want it.

"It's... cozy." Sam says, narrowing his eyes at Bucky when he finally, finally, moves his eyes up off the floor. Bucky looks at him, and then snorts.

"You don't have to be nice. I know how it looks." He says, dismissively, and kicks off his shoes.

"I'd offer you a beer but we don't have any. The fridge is empty actually, so don't even bother." He says, walking past Sam as he tugs his jacket off and tosses it on the floor near the couch.

"It's a little early for beer isn't it?" Sam asked, slowly trailing after Bucky, feeling awkward in this place. Bucky ducks back out of the room he'd stepped into, only visible above the waist, his hand resting on the door frame as he looked at Sam.

"You're house just exploded. And you have a very pricey ransom on your head. Is it, too early for beer?" Bucky asks, squinting, and then he smiles, a shit eating, toothy thing that has Sam's shoulders relaxing agaisnt his wishes. He sighs as Bucky disappears out of sight again.

Bucky walks back out of the room with an armful of sheets. He waves Sam after him and Sam follows obediently, frowning at himself, a little disconcerted at how easily he follows Bucky's, unspoken, orders. Bucky stops outside a doorway and leans against the wall.

"This is you. If you wanna get some rest. I can go get us some food if you're hungry." Bucky says, gently placing the sheets in Sam's arms when he reaches for them.

"Is that safe?" Sam asks, holding the sheets close to his chest.

"It'll be fine. No one can find this place. Not if I don't want them too. They could follow me to the door and still not find it." Buck says with a sigh, his arms folded across his chest as he rested his head on the wall.

"Oh yeah? How's that work?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed.

"Magic." Buck says, his brows jumping playfully on his forhead before he walks away, leaving Sam standing in the hall outside a nearly empty bedroom.

"Bathrooms at the end of the hall on the left if you need it." Sam turned to see Bucky pointing to the left, his back turned to Sam, arm raised over his head. Sam chuckled, shook his head, and walked into the room to make his new bed.

Bucky leaves around noon to get them food. Sam wanders the apartment while he's gone. Doing his best not to be too nosy, but he's curious, he can't help it. He knows Bucky has money. Or at least, he used to. Sam knows he can't always work for free, depsite what people may say about him. But this building, Bucky's home, would suggest that what people say is true. Maybe he does work for free. And if he does, what does that say about him?

Sam walks past a closed door, his fingers linger on the knob a moment before he turns it and pushes the door open enough to peek inside. There's a messily made bed shoved into one corner, the night stand on the right holds a small lamp. And in the other corner, Sam's eyes widen when they land on it, a very old looking piano. Sam squints into the dark room, the curtains hanging over the window are thick, and sees that the keys are well worn, but clean, almost shining in the dark. His heart beats a little faster, like he'd just seen something he wasn't supposed to. He closes the door quickly and moves on.

The sound he makes when he walks into the bathroom would have made Bucky laugh at him. It's almost a moan. The bathroom is huge. And beautiful. And Sam thinks maybe Bucky had spent all his money on this, because he'd never seen a tub that big, it had three fucking steps leading up to it. He rubs at his face and moves to the sink. It takes him a moment to realize something's missing. A huge luxury bathroom inside a run down building, Sam thought it had everything, until he splashed water on his face at the sink and then looked up, looking for himself in a mirror that wasn't there.

He straightened up and looked around the room, no mirrors, at all. Sam frowned as he dried his face, who in the world didn't have a mirror in their bathroom? He took a deep breathe and shrugged, trying not to over think it, and walked back out into the apartment. He wandered to the kitchen, his fingers dancing across the counter tops as he moved toward the fridge.

Bucky had said it was empty, and he hadn't been lying, not really. Sam opened the door and almost laughed. The fridge was indeed bare, except for one large bottle of Worcester sauce shoved in the door. Sam picked it up, looked at the date, it wasn't expired as he'd been expecting, and put it back down. He closed the door with a furrowed brow, what the fuck does this guy eat that all he has in his refrigerator is a big bottle of fucking Worcester sauce?

Sam felt that pang beneath his ribs again and rubbed at his chest. Bucky must get so lonely. His apartment was barely furnished, had one thing in his fridge and it wasn't even something that could be eaten, and the only other person in the building, as far as Sam could tell, was a homeless man in the entry way. Sam walked to the window and looked out at the mostly empty street below, he saw Bucky turn around the closest corner and head his way. His hands were full.

He'd brought back pizza, and Chinese, and Mexican. Sam stayed silent as he watched him set them all on the counter. Bucky looked up at him eventually, a question in his eyes.

"You hungry?" Sam asked, not able to keep the smile at bay this time. Bucky snorted, dropped his eyes to the floor again and rubbed at his neck. Sam would swear he was blushing. But when he looked back up at Sam his features had been schooled.

"I didn't know what you wanted." He said, smiling awkwardly before flipping the pizza box open, taking a slice, and sliding it toward Sam. Sam reached into the box and grabbed a peice, it was pepperoni, his favorite.

"Not like it won't get eaten, I'm sure." Sam said, taking a huge bite and smiling inwardly as Bucky laughed across from him.

He can't sleep. It's 3am and he's wide awake. Feels like he's going to burst out his skin if he doesn't do something. He pushes himself out of bed and walks out into the hall, he takes two steps and then notices the music.

Slow, dreamy, piano notes reach his ears. His breath catches in his throat as he walks closer to Bucky's room. He stops just short of the door and leans forward, the door is open, the music floating out into the hall makes Sam's head swim. Bucky has his back to the door, he's wearing a tank top and boxers, and his hands are moving over the keys of the old piano like they know this dance by heart. Sam steps forward, forgetting himself, and leans against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky plays for a long while, moving through song after song as Sam just stands there, staring at him. Watches the way his hair sways when he moves, the way the muscles in his arms move as his fingers dance over the keys, his eyes linger here and there and he tells himself he should leave, but doesn't seem to have the will to move. His eyes linger on Bucky's hands again, watching his fingers, when the tune changes abruptly and startles him so badly he jumps. The calm melody now a twangy tune, sounding like something out of a saloon in a western. Sam's breathing is heavy, his chest heaving, his eyes move back to Bucky to find him looking over his shoulder while he plays some stupid saloon tune. A grin spreads across his face and Sam rolls his eyes.

"Very funny." Sam says, his voice flat. The tune dies down, back to something slow, and Bucky looks away.

"Thank you, I thought so too." He grins back at Sam again and then looks back down.

"You can come in ya know? You don't have to just stand in the doorway like a stalker." Bucky says. Sam opens his mouth to protest and the saloon tune starts up again. Sam sighs, glares at him, and then moves to sit on the end of Bucky's bed. He sits quietly, pulling his feet up to sit criss cross on the bed, and watches Bucky play some more.

"Couldn't sleep?" Bucky asks, glancing at Sam.

"Naw. I don't sleep well in new places." Sam says, his thumb pressing into his ankle. Bucky nods and keeps playing.

"Kinda hard to sleep when you know people want to kill you." Bucky says, it's not a question.

"There's also that. Yeah." Sam says, nodding, his eyes wide as they stare, unfocused, at the floor. Bucky snorts and keeps playing. After a moment Sam finally asks.

"So... the piano." Sam says, questioning without questioning. Bucky sighs a laugh, his hands never missing a beat as he keeps playing.

"Yep." Is all he says.

"How'd that come about?" Sam asks, because apparently Bucky isn't going to share freely.

"I've been alive a very long time Sam." He turns and looks at him,

"You get bored." He finsihes, his brows bouncing again before he looked away. Sam's about to question further when Bucky keeps talking.

"No uh... when I was a kid, we used to watch a lot of westerns." Bucky starts, his fingers moving faster across the keys, the tune moving towards that twang again.

"And Steve always wanted to be a cowboy. To just, come into town, save a nice lady from a bad man, get the girl, ride into the sunset, all that. Just, be a hero I guess." Bucky shrugged, not looking at Sam as he played.

"And that was fine. Cowboys are cool I guess. But I never really wanted to be one. I always had this weird fascination with the guy plahing the piano in the saloon. That exciting, upbeat tune, and it was almost always the same one." He chuckled and shook his head.

"I wanted to know more about him. It seemed like an interesting job to little me. Saloon piano player. Playing upbeat tunes until the cowboy showed up. Sarcastic piano playing, that's what my mom used to call it." Bucky said, and Sam could see him smiling as the tune slowed down again, the twang leaving it for something sad.

"She used to tease me about it. But she got me piano lessons anyway." Bucky looked at him, a small smile on his lips. He held Bucky's gaze until he looked away again.

"Guess it didn't really matter." Bucky sighed, his fingers slowing on the keys.

"I ended up being the cowboy anyway. Funny how things work out." His voice was quiet. His fingers still. Sam's chest ached as he watched him sit there, silently. It didn't seem funny to Sam. Bucky hadn't wanted this life, he'd, apparently, just wanted to play piano in a saloon. Sam smiled at the thought of Bucky as a child, sitting at a piano much too large for him, learning to do something he loved. Sam swallowed hard.

"Shame." He said, and cleared his throat. Bucky looked at him, his eyes wide and questioning.

"You'd have made a great saloon pianist." Sam said, smiling softly. Bucky looked at him. And then he was laughing. Just a quick thing, his head thrown back, two cheerful laughs bubbling out, before he looked at Sam again. They sat there, looking at each other in the quiet room, saying nothing. Sam felt his cheeks burn and broke the eye contact.

"Want me to keep playing?" Bucky asked, his fingers wiggling over the keys.

"Yeah. Yeah keep playing." Sam nodded. Bucky nodded in return and turned back to the piano. Sam drooped, falling onto his side, his arm tucked beneath his head. He listened to Bucky's beautiful music and finally fell into sleep.

Sam wakes in Bucky's bed, a blanket pulled over him, he's alone. He rubs at his eyes and pushes himself up, off of Bucky's bed, refusing to let himself think about that. He drops the blanket on the bed and walks down the hall, he can hear someone clanging around the kitchen. The noise stops before Sam gets there and he sees Bucky in the living room, looking down at the large tv on the floor. The volume is low but Sam knows that house. Its Steve's house, his house.

He walks closer, stopping to stand next to Bucky, who greets him with a nod. They both continue watching as the news shows coverage of the bombing. Half the back of the house is gone, just a pile of rubble.

"What are they saying?" Sam asks, wrapping his arms around himself.

"They haven't found any bodies." Bucky says, knowing what Sam was asking without him having to say it.

"Never been happier to be short staffed." Sam says, he sees Bucky incline his head in agreement.

"I got a call from Torres while you were sleeping. He, Helen and Maria are at a safe house. Minor cuts and bruises. Same for everyone else he's been in contact with." Bucky says. All business this morning, Sam thinks, but is glad for it. He's glad his people are alright.

"What the fuck do we do now?" Sam asks, his eyes glued to the ruble on the television. Bucky opens his mouth but doesn't get a chance to answer.

"I believe I may be able to help with that." A deep, smooth voice answers. Sam turns quickly to the voice, startled, at the same time Bucky groans next to him and then turns as well.

All Sam sees at first is a dark, tall, shadow standing near the window. The man takes a step forward and comes into view.

"Loki." Sam says, his shoulders tense. Loki nods, his head dropping low.

"What did I say about fucking teleporting in here?" Bucky asked, his voice grumpy, but not shocked. Sam looked between them. Loki smirked at him and Bucky rolled his eyes.

"You said you could help?" Sam asked, taking a step forward. Loki nodded again, his hands clasped in front him.

"Indeed I did. My brother and I would like to offer our assistance. We'd have done so earlier but we were, engaged elsewhere." The smile on Loki's face always made Sam uneasy, but if he was here on Thor's behalf Sam could ignore that feeling.

"And you're feeling generous after returning home?" Bucky asks, his voice gravelly and sarcastic. The grin on Loki's face faded as he looked at them.

"My brother and I were... saddened, to hear about Steve's fate. He was a good partner. And more than that, a good friend. We are sorry for your loss. And we'd like to help you, in anyway we can." Sam's chest tightened, Thor and his family had known great loss. They'd also been the most loyal to Steve. Sam knew this wasn't a trick, knew that even Loki, wouldn't use their grief against them. He could see Bucky looking at Loki, his features sofened now. He and Loki shared a look Sam couldn't quite decipher, but Bucky rubbed at his neck, cleared his throat, and stepped away from the man. Sam stepped forward, his hand outstretched in front of him.

"The help would be much appreciated. Thank you." Sam said, sighed really. Loki smiled, took his hand, and shook it.

"I'll be in touch. Til then, stay put. You'll be safe here. Bye Wade." Loki nodded lowly again, a gesture of respect for Sam, and then wiggled his fingers toward the kitchen, smirking at Bucky before disappearing in a flash of green light. Sam snapped his head in the direction of the kitchen to see Wade, standing behind the counter wearing a crooked chefs hat and an apron that said "kiss the cook". Wade lifted his chin at Sam, and then smiled when Bucky groaned and threw himself onto the couch. Sam moved his eyes slowly away from Wade, his attention moving to Bucky, he'd thrown his arm over his face.

"This is a good thing isn't it? We need help." Sam said, unsure if Bucky's attitude was because of the offer or just his general reaction to Loki.

"It is. It's good. We do need help. And they are... helpful." Bucky said, Sam could see a grimace on his face under Bucky's arm, his mouth turned in an agressive frown. Wade snorted in the kitchen but said nothing.

"Hang on a second." Sam mused.

"Ope, he's catching on." Wade commented as Sam arranged his thoughts.

"You said no one could find this place if you didn't want them to." Sam said, dragging out his words for effect. Bucky moved his arm from his face and looked up at Sam.

"Did I say that?"

"Yeah. You did. You also said, it was magic. I thought you were just being facetious, but you were being serious." Sam said, a grin spreading across his face. Bucky looked at him, several different emotions passing over his face before he apparently decided not to argue this with Sam and dropped his arm back on his face. Sam bent over the couch, moving closer to him.

"Loki enchanted this place for you didn't he?" Sam asked, poking his finger agaisnt Bucky forehead.

"He's got him now folks." Wade's voice, now doing his best impression of a sports announcer, carried in from the kitchen. Sam smiled and pressed his finger harder into Bucky's head.

"Did you two..." Bucky arm moved just enough for him to glare up at Sam. His eyes narrowed in a warning. Sam could hear stifled laughter in the kitchen.

"Did you two have a thing?" Sam teased. Bucky scrunched his nose up and stood up abruptly, a strangled sound leaving his throat as he looked between Sam and Wade. Sam looked at Wade, met his eyes for a brief sencond and watched Wade nod, once.

"Oh my god you did. You slept with Loki so he'd enchanted your apartment." Sam gasped, his mouth dropping open in shock. Wade cackled in the kitchen and then dropped a pan with a curse, disappearing below the counter as he dove after it.

"I did not sleep with him so he'd enchant my apartment." Bucky said, offense clear in his voice.

"I slept with him. And then, later, much later, he enchanted this place for me. Two separate events!" Bucky argued, pointing at Sam accusingly. Wade popped back up over the counter after grabbing his pan.

"Was it though? Like... really? Cuz if I remember correctly, just from the story you told me, there was definitely at least one sexual situation either after, or during, said enchanting." Wade smiled, pointing his spatula at Bucky, his hip cocked to the side. Sam had to stifle a laugh at the image. Bucky's face was red now, he looked between them both and growled.

"I fucking hate you both." He said, stomping past them toward his room. He spun on his heel and pointed at Wade.

"And you! You just wait and see if I ever share any stories with you again. You traitor." Bucky spat, turned around again, walked into his room, and slammed the door. Sam looked from Bucky's door, back to Wade. Wade smiled at him and went back to cooking.

"Whatcha makin?" Sam asked as he walked over to the small overhang that he was sure was ment to be a bar, though there were no stools beneath it.

"Pancakes. Blueberry or chocolate chip? I can also do strawberry but not very well, and last time I made them for Buck, he did end up puking, so ya know, just be warned." Wade waved his spatula around as he talked, pointing to this and that as he moved around the kitchen.

"Chocolate chip for me." Sam said, he was trying not to stare. He'd never seen Wade without his mask before. He'd known, and seen part of him, his hands and part of his face at the house. But seeing his whole face, and his arms under his short sleeves was different. But then he was smiling at Sam and all he could see was his eyes. They were warm, and inviting.

"Me too! Bucks a Blueberry guy but we don't have to fault him for that." Wade teased, jerking the pan in his hand and sending the pancake into the air, it flipped twice and then landed perfectly back in the pan. Sam smiled and watched Wade dance around the kitchen, humming to himself, the song sounded familiar, Sam thought it might be a Spice Girl's song.

"So. Him and Loki huh?" Sam asked, smiling at Wade as he slid a plateful of pancakes to him. Wade nodded and grinned.

"Oh yeah. You let a pretty guy with vanishing knives enchant your house one time! And he just comes and goes as he pleases." Wade said, shaking his head with a twinkle in his eye. Sam laughed and took a bite.

The pancakes were delicious, warm and fluffy and perfect. He ate quietly as Wade made pancake after pancake, humming to himself as he moved like a hurricane through the kitchen. Sam ate his breakfast, and noticed for the first time since Steve had been taken from them, that there was no tension in his muscles. He didn't feel like he had to constantly look over his shoulder. He took another bite, watched Wade flip a pancake onto the ceiling, and thought he felt dangerously at home here.

#sambucky #winter falcon #sambucky fic #winter falcon fic #sambucky mob au #dirty deeds (done dirt cheap)#dirty deeds #dirty deeds part 17 #dd(ddc)#my writing

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love-fireflysong · 3 years

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Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

"I love you. I'm—"

"I love you."

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

You have no new messages.

*beep*

A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #is a sad heartbreaking story #lik dis if you cry #asdsakjdasd

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nebraska-is-a-myth · 4 years

Text

Drown your sorrows - part 7

Grab your tissues dude, this one is not a happy one at all. I'm sorry in advanced

special shout out to my pal @hufflepuffkilljoy for helping me with some details for this chapter. I also feel like they’re going to kill me after reading this so wish me luck.

Masterlist

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Tommy is fortunate enough to stay conscious this time.

It's a lot warmer than the warehouse was and he's still just as afraid.

But he feels more prepared for the heat now.

Tubbo was so close to the first explosion, too close. Tommy watches the blast separate them and he can hear his friends desperate coughs from across the burning room. He can't get up, his wrist is hurt and his injured leg burns every time he tries to put pressure on it. He calls for Tubbo but he doesn't think his friend can hear him between his endless coughing and the roaring flames.

He's so thankful Tubbo isn't alone when Eret finally shows, the older man slips masks on both of them and they huddle together for a moment before Tommy hears something explode below them. He tries to cling to Eret as he reaches for Tubbo and they all plummet down into freezing water.

He and Eret sink into the water and the harshness of it makes Tommy gasp.

Water seeps in through his mask and the tightness of it makes him panic

He attempts to take the mask off, as if that might make him less disorientated.

It's doesn't

He takes a big gulp of water into his mouth and suddenly he can't stop.

He's drowning.

His limbs flail about and he cant help but scream into the water as pain ruptures through him. He keeps taking in more and more water and his lungs spasm as they fill with murky liquid. Tommy doesn't know where he is, it's dark and cold and he doesn't know which way is up and if his body wasn't already submerged in water he thinks he might cry.

Tommy doesn't want to die

There are so many things he hasn't done yet, so many things he hasn't said.

He wanted to take Tubbo to his favorite place in the city and go adventuring through the abandoned buildings Dream used to let him demolish when he was angry or upset. He wanted to tell his best friend in the whole word that he loved him, that they were brothers until the end. He never really had the courage to say it before now, thought it would make him sound childish and weird. ( Really he was just afraid that Tubbo wouldn't feel the same, and he wasn't ready to let his best friend go just yet. )

He wanted to thank Wilbur for taking him into l’manburg, for trusting him and becoming the older brother figure he never thought he needed ( or wanted ). For teaching him how to properly aim a gun and negotiate something without shouting, for letting him become the heir to the empire they built.

He thinks about all the movie nights with fundy and Eret, remembers popcorn fights and sleepovers, baking competitions and playing video games till early dawn. He remembers waking up from nightmares and talking to Eret about his scars, sharing the good and the bad with each and every one of them.

As the seconds roll past, Tommy can feel himself suffocating. His lungs fill with more and more water and his body starts to shut down, the pain is everywhere and nowhere and slowly he becomes blissfully aware that he is going to die here.

In the back of his mind he hopes that dream knows he’s forgiven. If he’s going to die he might as well forgive the man, he knows deep down that dream never wanted any of this and he hopes that his death will spark something in the man, and prevent the bloodshed of his friends.

The last thing on Tommys mind before the darkness swallows him is Technoblade, and he wonders if he’ll finally see him again when he goes to sleep.

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“How old were you when you first killed someone?”

“Jeezus Tubbo what the hell dude.”

Tommy swats at his best friend who's laying next to him on the wooden floor. They're all laying on piles and blankets and duvets and tucked up in sleeping bags like campers. Popcorn crumbs litter the floor and Tubbo has kernels stuck in his hair after he used the bowl as protection from Tommy throwing pillows at him.

The group decided to have a sleepover to commemorate Wilbur's birthday, all of them laid in a circle around the couches in wilburs living room and Wilbur almost regrets letting them into his house.

Tommy and Tubbo are layed on the floor, heads close to each other facing opposite directions. Tommy is smiling as he flails his arms at the other boy and has his feet resting in Erets lap. Fundy is on Erets left, curled up in 3 blankets like a burrito, a clear sign of Wilburs handiwork after someone made a joke about fundy being wilburs child.

Wilbur himself is half paying attention to the movie they all put on as background noise as he tries not to look like he’s actually enjoying the night his boys had planned.

Nobody spoke at first, no one was really quite sure what to say. Eventually, Wilbur took a breath and spoke in a slight monotone. “fifteen.”

Even though they may have been concerned, nobody was quite as surprised as maybe they should have been. It was a rough line of work, it wasn't really a shock to anyone that their leader had started so young.

“Robbery gone wrong, cops came earlier than expected. Shot one to save myself, nothing more to it.”

Fundy pokes his head out of his blanket burrito a little more and rests his head on his knees. “Got in a fight back in the Netherlands when I was eighteen, ended badly for the other guy.”

Eret is a bit more hesitant to respond but with a reassuring nudge from Tommy, he gives the teen a small smile and takes a breath. “Got involved with a super serious gang back in England when I was sixteen.”

He doesn't say anything more but nobody really blames him. Eret never really talks about his time back in England much, but the team sees the way he gets nervous around cameras and always makes sure he can never be traced wherever he goes. Everyone is running from something, it's why most of them came to America after all.

Tommy doesn't realize it's his turn until he’s noticed everyone's looking at him.

He laughs and swats at Tubbo for a second time. “It's your question you go first.”

Tubbo looks at his friend strangely but shakes it off and reaches to grab a handful of crisps. “Ummm, technically I haven't.”

Tommy listens to his best friend shove a handful of crisps in his mouth and his throat goes dry, he only distantly hears Fundy ask Tubbo a question but his thoughts seem to drown everyone out.

He knows he has two options here. He knows that lying is the safest one for him, that he could just follow along with what Tubbo said and just get it over with. But he feels compelled to let the truth just spill out of his mouth and let everything into the world. He can't help it when the words start falling from his lips, he so desperately wants to shove everything back into the box he’s kept everything in for years and go back to the fun loving, annoying Tommy everyone knows.

But instead he just had to open his stupid mouth like he always does.

“I uhh, I killed mum.”

Shit

“She uhh, bled out, when I was born.”

Shut up

“So yeah uhh, I guess I win.”

The room is silent, and he’s brought out of his head by Eret rubbing small comforting circles into the bottom of his leg.

“Tommy.”

He really wishes he hadn't spoke

“You know that couldn't have possibly been your doing.”

Wow the ceiling is really interesting

“Tommy.”

He can't speak. If he speaks he’s going to cry and he can't cry.

Tommyinnit doesn't cry.

He feels Tubbo moving to wrap and arm around him and he really wants to just not be here.

He’s lying on the floor of his bosses friends house, crying in front of the people he cares about most about because he couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut.

Tommy feels himself moving and slowly more and more arms are around him. He feels a blanket being draped over him and suddenly he finds himself sobbing into someone's chest.

Someone is running their hand through his hair and he wonders if that's something his mother would have done for him.

Sometimes he wishes life was different, that maybe he might have had a better childhood if his mother had been in his life for longer than three seconds.

But as he feels his own tears soak into one of his friends' shirts, he thinks that maybe his life ain't so bad.

And later in the night when he's stood on Wilbur's kitchen counter with Erets glasses hanging off his face singing loudly to random Hamilton songs with his friends, he knows he wouldn't change it for the world.

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Tommy wakes up confused and coughing.

He can feel the water spluttering out of his mouth and he feels like he's throwing up his organs.

He’s vividly aware that something doesn't feel right

He feels wrong and disorientated and,,,

He’s underwater?

Tommy flails his limbs about and in a matter of seconds he surfaces into darkness

He coughs up all of the water that's been sloshing about in his lungs and his throat stings as fresh air floods into his body.

Through all the coughing and the sound of water in his ears, he hears a voice calling him.

“Tommy!”

He turns his head to find Eret also treading water on the other side of a mountain of rubble, he has a large gash on the side of his head that looks like it would have dried by now if not for the water continuously splashing against it. His glasses are nowhere to be seen and Erets looking at him like he knows something Tommy doesn't.

“Tommy thank god you're okay.”

Tommy swims over to where Eret is still floating and takes a moment to examine the rubble surrounding his friend.

Most of it seems to be concrete and rocks piled up around him, but the two big metal pipes separating him and Eret are what concern him. And the fact that Eret hasn't made an attempt to move past them.

"Where's tubbo?"

"He swam over that direction, tried to find a way out I think."

"Why didn't you follow him."

"Tommy."

"Come on we can't just leave him to look on his own. He'd get lost in a bloody parking lot."

Tommy wraps his hands around one of the pipes and attempts to push it out of the way.

Eret doesn't move.

"Tommy I,"

"Waters rising, gotta move this thing before Tubbo ends up swimming into someone's toilet."

The younger boy changed angles and tried to pull the other pipe towards him.

"Tommy."

He feels Eret place his hand on top of his own but the younger boy swats it away and keeps trying to force the pipes out of the way.

“Come on man, just, just try.”

Eret grabs his hand again.

“Just help me okay!”

Water splashes up Tommys nose and he feels tears pricking at his eyes

“Just, Just do something! Please! please”

Eret grabs a hold of both of tommys hands and holds him as close as the barrier of rubble will let him.

“Please. I can't lose you too.”

Erets voice is soft and calming. Tommy wants him to laugh and point at him and tell him how this is all just a big joke and they can all go home together and watch movies on Wilburs couch.

But he doesn't

“Hey it's okay, you're not gonna lose me alright. I will always, always be with you, no matter what.”

“Don't give me that bullshit. I don't want you in my heart or looking down on me, I want you to stay here, alive.”

“I want that too Tommy, more than anything. But life doesn't always go the way we want it to.”

Eret coughs and shivers in the water, he looks up and realizes that neither of them have a lot of time left before the water fills the room. They both know Tommy can't stay here any longer, and it's only a matter of time before the coldness of the water gives him hypothermia.

“You need to go.”

“No.”

“Tommy.”

“No I am not leaving you here!”

“You don't have a choice Tommy!”

“Yes I do! Now help me move these goddamn pipes”

“For fuck sake Tommy! I am stuck down here! Those pipes aren't going to move and I'm not leaving this fucking basement. You need to go, now!”

“I-”

“Tommy you are my brother and I will always love you but you need to get the fuck out of here right now.”

“Tommy, Eret!”

“Down here.”

Eret hears Wilbur jump down into the freezing water and he can faintly see him swimming towards him and Tommy.

“You guys okay?”

“Yes now get him out of here.”

“I said no!”

“What about you.”

“I'll be fine just go.”

Wilbur takes a moment, a moment of weakness, a moment of emotion and sadness and he looks at Eret, his friend. He feels the water clog his nostrils and nods, with his heart heavy and his mind full, he drags a tired and freezing Tommy away.

“Wilbur let me go!”

“We can't leave him!”

“we have to help him!”

“Wilbur!”

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Later on when everyone's safe and dry and the adrenaline and panic has left his system, Wilbur finds himself gazing up at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. Every time he looks at himself all he can see is the look in his friends eyes before he left him to drown, he remembers the hurt in his face and his willingness to die just to see Tommy safe. Every time he closes his eyes it's all he sees.

Wilbur stands up tall and strong in front of himself and plasters on the face of a warrior, a face that dream and George and sapnap will forever fear. He vows on this day that he will teach them what true fear feels like, no more kind words or friendly disputes.

He doesn't care about making allies or keeping peace.

His city is in danger

His mind is broken

His friends are traumatized

Eret is dead

And Wilbur wants vengeance.

If dream wants war, he’ll give him war.

#wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tubbo #the eret #fundy #technoblade #is mentioned #dream smp war #dream smp #mcyt #crime au #im so sorry about this #this wasnt fun to write #just wait till i get to the part where jshlatt comes to town

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