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#they just. left him. alone‚ in a fuckton of pain and likely really scared
itsrainingfeathers · 2 years
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They really had 4 guys in the room with Renfield and couldn't have had one of them stay with him?????
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alwaysananxiousmess · 3 years
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lighting tommyinnit au
okay so i made this a while ago, like, pretty recently after the final disc war.
So, after Doomsday, Tommy get’s struck by lightning in a world where spontaneously generating powers is normal. Techno has a stupid strong healing factor he got from fighting in the Hypixel arenas when he was a kid. Dream is a speedster and has enhanced reflexes, something he got from the manhunts.
There are other examples, but those two are the most relevant, so there you go. I bet you can see where this whole thing is going.
Tommy get’s struck by lightning, and understandably passes out, because that is thousands of volts going into your body in the span of a second or less. I bet it hurts a fuckton.
Ghostbur is the one that finds him, having been talking to him when it happens. He goes to get Tubbo, who brings him to Sam’s place because he was the only one walking around who actually had a place for Tommy to stay.
Tommy slowly heals and recovers, and has some major side effects from the strike. He’s blind and deaf on his left side, lost his sense of taste, and has frequent muscle spasms that make fine motor control extremely difficult. He has scarring on the left side of his face, neck, shoulder, chest, and back as well as down his left arm, ending about mid-forearm. (If you want to know what it looks like, google “lightning flowers”)
He also has... other side effects, ones that aren’t as explainable. There’s a constant energy building underneath his skin that he can’t explain, like a humming only he can hear. It itches sometimes, and eventually becomes painful with how much of it there was, but more on that in a bit. Time also seems to slow down at random moments, but only to him.
Anyway, the energy builds so much that it gets to the point that he’s curled in a ball in the middle of the night, sobbing in his bed at Sam’s base. It hurting him and he doesn’t know why it’s happening.
Sam is the one who finds him, immediately going to comfort him, but Tommy accidentally electrocutes him.
Now Sam is a creeper hybrid. He can’t be hurt by lightning, but he can’t become charged like a normal creeper does. He’s more shocked than anything else, but Tommy is freaking out because he thinks he’s hurt Sam and he doesn’t know what’s happening. This inevitably causes him to release more electricity, which still isn’t hurting Sam, but it only makes Tommy panic more. Sam’s trying to calm him down and reassure him that he’s fine but Tommy just doesn’t believe him.
Eventually, the electricity stops because Tommy just... ran out of it. He’s still crying and freaking out but there isn’t any more lightning flying everywhere. Sam manages to calm him down, promising him that he’s okay and that Tommy didn’t hurt him.
Tommy shakily asks what the hell just happened, and Sam theorizes that the lightning must have made him generate a power, and that’s what the energy and the time slowing down things were about.
So, they test it out once Tommy’s come to terms with it a bit more in an attempt to help him control it. Tommy is super paranoid about hurting someone accidentally, and he pushes himself into learning how to control it.
They figure out that time isn’t slowing down, Tommy is speeding up. The lightning strike allowed him to become a speedster, like Dream. Their final theory is that Tommy generates electricity, which is what the energy that he feels is. Using his superspeed generates it faster. Occasionally, he needs to release the energy, which is why he can produce lightning and electrocute things. If he doesn’t release it, it will release for him in one huge blast, which causes extreme pain for him and is very lethal to anything around him. It also makes him pass out for a few days.
The incident regarding him accidentally electrocuting Sam was because he releases electricity when he’s distressed or in pain. Tubbo makes a rubber chest plate and gloves he can wear to ensure he doesn’t get shocked when Tommy needs his help.
One of the more funny side effects of his power is that he’s a walking static cloud. Touching people gives them light shocks, not painful, just annoying. If he waves a hand over someone’s head their hair will stand up.
He’s also a walking redstone signal. He can act as a redstone torch, and will often help Tubbo and Sam out on their projects when they need him. If he steps in the wrong place though, he can mess the whole thing up. Tommy is not allowed near TNT, because touching it ignites it like a redstone torch would.
He can carry around a little mini redstone lamp in his pocket and it acts like a flashlight when he takes it out. It’s very useful.
Onto more plot.
So.... Final Disc War.
Tommy and Tubbo are in the weird Hall of Attachments thing, and Dream says he’s going to kill Tubbo, and “there’s nothing you can do to stop me, tommy”
Tommy just steps in front of Tubbo, cracks his knuckles, and replies “that’s what you think, bitch”
speedster fight speedster fight speedster fight speedster fight
Every time Dream tries to grab Tubbo, Tommy slams into him and forces him to change course. They’re chasing each other around the room and they’re fucking running on the walls and ceiling what the fuck.
Eventually Punz and everyone else shows up, and they’re kind of just staring into a mostly empty room with Tubbo standing in the corner and one green blur and one white blur moving sporadically around. Literally only Sam and Tubbo understand what’s happening.
Dream eventually gets the upper hand, injuring Tommy in some way that forces him to stop running. Dream’s crouching over Tommy, gloating about his win, while Tommy’s bleeding everywhere and spitting in his face angrily.
Everyone else is at a standstill. They can’t fire at Dream, because he could just finish Tommy off and run before their arrows even get there, and they can’t rush him, because he can just run off. Tubbo is begging for Dream to spare Tommy and to kill him like they agreed, but Dream refuses, saying that Tommy’s been to much of a pain in the ass to let him live.
Dream raises his sword and prepares to kill Tommy with it, when Tommy grabs onto the blade of the sword and just grins.
You remember how him using his superspeed generated more electricity?
:)
Tommy inhales, and sends literally every single volt of electricity into Dream with one giant light show. You can fucking smell Dream burning, and really only one bolt was needed to kill him, but Tommy keeps going. He sends bolt after bolt into Dream until he’s completely drained dry of electricity and Dream is crumbling away into respawn, the sword falling harmlessly onto the ground.
Tommy just lays there for a few moments as the smoke clears, and then turns his head to Tubbo with a grin and says: “that was pog” before passing the fuck out from the amount of pain that amount of electricity erupting from him caused.
Sam and Tubbo run over to go save Tommy right as Dream respawns. But Sam is too concerned about saving Tommy’s life than putting Dream in prison, because Tommy’s bleeding out and his body is working overdrive just to generate more lightning.
So Dream gets away while Sam and Tubbo bring Tommy back to Sam’s base to heal. Dream only has two lives left, and he goes to Techno, using the favor for shelter and protection until he can get his revenge.
Some cool tidbits me and Belle came up with when we talked about it a few weeks back:
Smoke starts coming off of Tommy’s skin and hair when he’s pissed, and his hair will stand up straight. He can char things too, so imagine a pissed Tommy stalking off and leaving black footprints on the sidewalk behind him.
His eyes glow white sometimes, typically when he’s using his power/when he’s mad or scared. I’m talking full white, glowing Eret eyes. It’s cool to look at.
His hair after the lightning strike turns very very pale blonde instead of the golden blonde it was before.
His lightning flower scars light up when he’s using his superspeed. It looks pretty cool tbh.
When he needs to release electricity, he’ll go out into the woods alone and let it off in slow bursts so it doesn’t hurt as much. The walks are incredibly lonely and he hates having to do it every time. He’s terrified that he’ll accidentally hurt or kill someone if he doesn’t, though, so he does it anyway.
(The way Dream attacks him after the Final Disc War for the first time is when Tommy is on one of these walks and he depletes all his lightning before Dream showed up)
If he completely depletes his electricity, such as like in the Final Disc War, he can’t use his superspeed. There needs to be existing energy for it to kick on. If there isn’t any starter energy, bad news, you aren’t gonna go fast like you want to.
Anyway, yeah, that’s the lightning Tommy au. This is more brainrot than anything else tbh I just like it.
Shoutout to @bellfort3 and @ecinue-unicorn for listening to me ramble about this au in dms <3 multiple times
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tainted-wine · 3 years
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You two asked for fluff, so I was really torn between keeping this in the bleak AU or just imagining this in some perfect world where he’s a proud monster dad. SO I DID BOTH. My thoughts on this are pretty scattered so I’ll stick to a fuckton of bullet points.
In the AU...
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Neither of you had any idea what to do when you finally made it out, especially when it was revealed that there isn’t much of a city left. What the hell happened?
You’re wounded and there are still villains and nomu out to get the both of you. Raptor springs into the air and takes flight before you can even finish internally questioning the state of things.
With airborne High Ends constantly on his tail and villains trying to shoot him down from below, Raptor quickly figures that the open skies are too dangerous.
He holds you close as he dashes between buildings, over and under rubble, until he believes he has shaken off his pursuers and settles inside the wrecked remains of a house.
He gets straight to work on creating a comfortable resting spot for you, shedding all of his feathers over and over again to pile them together as a fluffy nest bed. They grow back instantly, so it’s not much trouble for him.
You take some of his thickened feathers to apply to your wound.
Raptor curls up around you, warm and snug as you try to treat yourself.
While he’s purring and keeping you calm, he’s paying close attention to any movement in the area, any changes in the air that may tip him off to a nearby threat.
He doesn’t have to tell you that nothing is going to hurt you while he’s there. You already know.
He lets you piggyback when it’s time to search for any form of sustenance. The ruins are dangerous and never completely barren. Thankfully most villains and nomu can be quickly disposed of the moment they try to attack. 
When handling greater threats, he’ll shrug you off and simply yell “Back!” so that you’ll keep your distance while he fights.
All you wanna do is bust open these vending machines or scan the shelves of these stores, but every exploration ends with Raptor having to kill someone, and he’s not a fan of that.
While you’re eating chips or canned food back in the room, you stay close to him, giving him pats and rubs like an oversized dog. He’ll drive his feathers through anyone without hesitation to keep you safe, but he still doesn’t like doing it.
“Thank you for protecting me” usually works at easing his mind.
It’s too dangerous to stay in one spot for long. You both carefully move further into the city as an unlikely duo of squatters, going from one abandoned spot to the next.
As the days go by, your appetite gets more vicious, and your abdominal pains and nausea gets worse. You underestimated just how quickly this baby would develop.
It reaches a point where Raptor has to leave you by your lonesome when he searches for food. It’s scary being left alone, but the living bed of feathers reminds you that he’s always watching.
Raptor always makes sure to bring you sweets since they make you especially happy. Anything beats the flavorless crap they fed you at the hospital.
He doesn’t need to eat, but he eventually gives in and allows you to feed him different foods. He’s a big fan of anything chicken flavored.
He violently tore apart a bird plushie that you found. He just...felt an unreasonable amount of hatred toward it for some reason.
Your belly is growing at an alarming rate and it’s a pretty painful and exhausting process. When he isn’t gathering food, he is either keeping you warm or pleasuring you.
Yep, lots of sex happens. There aren’t many ways to get your mind off of your suffering and paranoia. Getting fucked or licked by your monstrous partner works most of the time.
His sensitive wings can surprisingly detect a lot of activity in your womb. If he’s suddenly attacking you with kisses and licks, then you’ve probably got a painful contraction coming.
It will be time soon, and you’re both scared. Raptor has no idea how to make the birth easier for you, but he’ll stay by his mate’s side and do what he can.
In A Perfect World...
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Raptor is ready to be the #1 Monster Dad.
He wears a big baseball cap to cover his brain and wears shirts with horrible jokes like “We used to live in an apartment, but I wanted a more High End living.”
He just got a promotion at his job and bought a new car to celebrate. To this day you still wonder how he made it so far in his career while barely knowing how the hell money works.
When you gave him the good news, he gave an animalistic shriek of happiness. Raptor is about to have his own tiny mutant human.
You go to the store to pick out wallpaper and furniture for the baby room. Most of the decision-making is left to you, since he has zero experience in decorating.
Raptor stares at several baby books and tips for taking care of his pregnant wife. By the fifth book, he remembers that he can’t read.
Your darling husband sets the kitchen on fire after urging you to stay in bed and let him cook breakfast. At least the bacon was still edible.
He’s going to get protective when just about any living creature is near you and his unborn child. You’ll have to keep reminding him to not bare his fangs at the male neighbor, or make aggressive wing displays at curious animals.
Once the aggression and excitement dies down, he takes parenting classes with you to know what’s in store for him.
He discussed leave options with his boss, and by that I mean he growled “Give leave” to the poor guy, who instantly complied.
He learns how to give massages in order to ease your aches. There’s also plenty of soft monster lovemaking.
That strong warm tongue sure puts you at ease as well. 😏
How will the baby look? How many quirks will it have? Will it be healthy? Will the birth be difficult? Papa Raptor is worried as he drinks coffee and gets ready for work.
Whatever troubles come his way, he is prepared to tackle it like any successful business monster.
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boop-le-snoot · 3 years
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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 17
First time reader click here
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TWs/Summary: Feelings! PTSD! Anxiety! Clint! Team bonding! Reader is a badass 😍 And comic book medical accuracy .
Un-beta-ed.
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"It smells like a liquor factory in here," Bucky's voice came from the kitchenside, followed by noises of the team's arrival. Via portal, because the elevator made zero noise.
"I suggest you avoid the area around me and Clint. It might be contaminated." My voice sounded sharp to my own ears. I sat in silence for several hours, waiting for the team's return, while Clint restlessly dozed next to me.
My words caused the team to freeze in their tracks, owlishly blinking at me and at Clint laying sprawled on the floor, surrounded by plastic bags and biological hazard containment units. Tony's helmet swiftly covered his face - I heard muffled sounds coming from within, probably Friday's explanations. In seconds, the helmet retracted, showing an extremely worried Tony.
"How do you feel, Princess? Any weakness, any pain?"
"No symptoms, Tony. Just a fuckton of anxiety," I admitted, avoiding the concerned looks of Tony's teammates. "I almost drowned the room in alcohol but warned you just to be safe. Also, your alien pathogen protocol sucks."
"We made it so unauthorized personnel wouldn't get their hands on Thor's or Loki's blood samples," Bruce supplied meekly from where he was leaning against Steve, wearing a tattered hoodie and his hulk-out pants. "Off to decon we go," The scientist sighed. "Friday, code seven-zero-three-five-five. Pull up the data you gathered. In the shower." The man was exhausted, yet the call of science seemed to give Bruce a tiny energy boost. With newfound determination, he waddled to the communal showers, the rest of the team in tow.
Natasha's stare was truly unnerving. I was fully aware she and Barton had long history; the fact that I had to respond to one of the deadliest assassins if I had made even the slightest mistake - anxiety mixed with blind terror in me. I fought the nausea and the headache, focusing on Clint's hair between my fingers. His steady breathing.
He'd be okay. He had to be okay.
"You did great, Princess," The time passed in a blink. Bruce's warm hands were encompassing mine - gently pulling me away from Clint. I looked at Banner's face with unseeing eyes.
"I heard what Friday said and I can only applaud your quick thinking. You saved his life," Strange, sounding uncharacteristically quiet and bashful, parroted Bruce, hovering behind the scientist. His angular face was contorted in sorrow. "I believe I should apologize for dropping Barton onto you like that. I underestimated the extent of his injuries." The man sounded so, so guilty.
"I saved his life," I repeated in disbelief. Surely they were exaggerating.
"You did, malysh. For that, I am grateful," Natasha's hand found my own, squeezing briefly, before following Steve that had picked up a still-sleeping Clint, to, presumably, carry him to medical. "Come on, Banner, we need you."
Banner gave me a brief squeeze of his own, taking his leave, scurrying after Romanoff. I was left awkwardly standing in front of Strange, both of us disheveled and dazed.
"I ordered pizza," I said, just to fill the grim silence.
"Okay," Just like that, he snapped out of his trance, sitting down on the couch and picking up his food.
The others trickled in, Bucky, Pete, Thor, Loki, Sam, Wanda, Pietro. I saw it all like it was tinted by a thick fog. Their words made a jumbled cacophony when they reached my ears. Tony's arm around me - that woke me up, slightly. I focused on my favourite thing in the world - the faint smell of him, a mix of soap, machine oil and expensive cologne.
"She's shellshocked," Bucky suddenly said, pointing at me.
"No," I frowned. "No. I may be a fumbling idiot but I don't have PTSD."
Tony's breath stuttered in his chest. Promptly, I was turned around, a pair of intelligent brown orbs sharply gazing into my eyes. "Princess?"
"I'm so glad y'all are alright," I choked out, fisting the cotton of his shirt in my palm. "Even Stephen the asshole. Team bonding wouldn't be the same without his sarcasm," Hurrying to hide the fact that I was scared shitless, I did what I do best. I joked.
"Gods, you two are really a match made in heaven," Wanda's tired voice had 110% eye-roll in it. "So much self-deprication, almost as much as brilliance." The witch usually refrained from commenting on people's private thoughts. Usually, but not that day.
"I am relieved to know you hold me in high regards," Stephen's sarcastic remark made it's way around a mouthful of pizza.
Bucky's phone beeped. "They're saying Clint will be out in a few hours. No permanent damage, the gash on his leg won't scar and he's demanding Tony buy his saviour a cake," With a smile, the soldier read the text's contents out loud. "Also, the resident doc wants to hire you." Bucky pointed at me with a teasing grin.
"I, umm, I," Stammering, way to go. "I just - uh, I googled and I improvised? I'm not a doctor or a scientist, I'm a high school student," I replied, voice raising half an octave higher.
"Told you Tony, she's a friggin' genius," Peter sounded way too smug for someone who had a bruise half the size of his head.
"That she is," Tony's voice... Was different. It was honeyed and warm, blanketing me, surrounding me with safety. His arms tightened around me - not uncomfortably so, just enough to ground his presence in my personal space. I snuggled into him happily - he didn't mind at all. The cold glow and faint humming of his arc reactor calmed me. "Friday, cake. Princess cake from the bakery on Seventeenth."
Wow, Tony knew my favourite kind of cake. That was amazing.
"On it, boss." The AI immediately replied. "Well done, Miss." Friday addressed me with the same tone I heard in the lab. Gentle and understanding. It was so very strange.
We mulled around the living room until the pizza was gone and half the occupants were snoring away, dead where they sat. It was an unanimous decision to pull out the unfolding couch and form a cuddle pile of sorts - after such a long and grueling mission with one of their own facing the brink of death, all the superheroes were more than a little unsettled. I didn't exactly know where I fit in that. Obviously, all of them were close in one way or another. Even Loki and Stephen, seeing them get cussed out by Thor for attempting to leave was kind of amusing.
But it got me wondering. Maybe they felt like imposters, too? After all, I wasn't special. Loki wasn't considered a good guy. And Stephen was too much of a lone wolf. All three of us were comfortable alone, used to dealing on our own.
One look from Tony, Stark-patented puppy eyes, and I was making space for myself and for Stephen. Even if Loki insisted on grumbling all the way through, his exhaustion showed in the way he leaned on Thor's arm, using a weakly glimmering spell to summon himself a book and then closing his eyes for a moment.
Muted cheering broke out the moment elevator doors opened, showcasing a pale but smiling Clint held up on both sides by Natasha and Steve, Bruce half asleep on the blonde's other side.
"Looking pretty good for a dead bitch," Clint grinned in my direction.
I couldn't resist the bait. The boomer knew his memes, after all. "She's alive!"
He patted my leg, making his way to a free spot on the ginormous sofa bed. "Aw, pizza," He groused, spying the empty boxes.
"Should arrive in ten minutes," Bucky quipped, waving his phone. Then, the brunette super-soldier looked at me pointedly. "We usually order double after long missions."
"Duly noted, y'all hungry peoples." I said, filing it away for later. Thinking about more missions, more near-death experiences wasn't something I wanted to handle that very moment.
"So, uh, what exactly happened? My memory is pretty spotty," Clint demanded once he got his hands on some food.
"I also need to know. You're going to have to sign a statement and a mission report," Natasha stated apologetically.
I looked at her, confused. "Like... How many details do you need?"
Tony shifted beside me uncomfortably. I put a steadying hand on his leg - my palm was immediately dwarfed by his own. Natasha gave him a Look. "Fury's eyes only, but SHIELD needs to know how you figured out to neutralise a potential alien threat. Bruce ran some tests and this pathogen is... Pretty nasty, to say the least. It has the survivability to be classified as a potential weapon." Natasha's voice was apologetic, once more.
What have I gotten myself into? I was just trying to save a friend. "First of all, I'm not working for Men in Black, like, ever," I made the point to look her in the eyes. A brief moment later, she nodded. Tony relaxed, exhaling soundly. "Okay, get your reading glasses on. It went like this..." I retold the story, taking careful note to voice my thought processes as much as I remembered them. Save for a few surprised gasps and Tony haphazardly kissing the top of my head, the team gave me no interruptions.
Bruce was the first one to react once I was done. "But... How did you think of bloodletting? It's such an unusual solution," He mumbled more to himself.
"I've watched enough horror movies to know better than to introduce a foreign bacteria, such as antibiotics, to a person with an alien infection," I deadpanned, spying a satisfied smile on Stephen's face. "Worst case scenario, the substitution of infected blood with healthy would have diluted the amount of parasites or deflected their attention from eating away Clint's nerve endings. Him going bazinga from pain was my main concern," I admitted, the archer's pained cries once again filling my ears. The memory was still fresh.
"That makes sense," Bruce nodded.
"And what would you have done?" I asked, unable to withhold my curiosity.
"Sedated Clint while I examine the specimens," Banner replied with the obvious. "Then figure out how to cure the infection."
I nodded along slowly. "I considered that option but ultimately, I was too chicken to entertain the possibility of the parasites interacting with heavy sedatives. Fentanyl affects some of the blood components the parasites eat so only God knows how it might have ended."
Banner was impressed, that much was obvious. Tony's lips once again landed on the crown of my head, gentle and warm. More and more people in the room were giving me impressed, happy, grateful looks. It was strange and I squirmed in my spot, putting the half-eaten pizza slice back in the box, Steve immediately eyeing it in contemplation.
"Have at it, you human garbage disposal," I muttered, laying down comfortably. I was still shivering from the adrenaline rush and the soft blanket cocoon I shared with Tony and Stephen - their combined body heat under it - called to me like a siren.
"Are you well?" Loki noticed my state, casting a dark look over the edge of his book.
"Yeah, just cold. Us humans shiver when coming off an adrenaline rush," I remarked absently, pressing myself closer to Tony.
The engineer laid down, spooning me, tangling our legs together. We slept like that, all over each other, every time I stayed in his bed. It felt comfortable, like home, and nobody seemed to mind. Peter and Wanda, already snoozing away, were in a similarly indisposed state, octopus-ing their nearest teammates. Friends. Family.
My eyes drooped. My chest was about to burst with an odd sort of content - quiet, steady and welcoming. Tony's beard tickled my neck, breaths coming in soft puffs against my nape, spreading warmth all over me.
And there was something - someone warm in front of me, too, I could smell the sandalwood and spices of his cologne. Abandoning all reservations, I shamelessly wrapped both of my arms around a larger, more muscular one, taking note to avoid Stephen's scarred, sensitive hands. The flat of his tummy under my palm was rising and falling steadily, his breathing almost in sync with Tony's and mine.
All of us were safe and alive. It mattered to me, perhaps, more than I'd ever cared to admit out loud. As much as I refused to let them all in, for real and beyond silly gimmicks, they still wormed their way inside my heart, inside my brain. Not with long discussions and talking feelings - hell no, that's the hard and the boring shit, but with simply their presence.
Hugs. Mario Kart tournaments. Cake after I'd done good at something. Sunday morning pancakes for all. Homework. Sciencing together. Catching up on memes and just watching funny YouTube videos together. Playing Twister and Monopoly.
For the first time in my life, I had a stable presence. I belonged somwhere. It felt too good to deny, so once again, I allowed myself to be selfish.
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✨ Taglist of my lovelies ✨ still open.
@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading
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Hey fuckers! So I wrote this all today and liked it enough to post, please enjoy this minimally edited mess of a fic! But read the warnings carefully!! You also may want to read the other fics in the series to understand this? But it's not super necessary. (First three fics here, here, and here, mind the warnings.) Also shoutout to @wishiwasthemoon-tonight for encouraging my angsty bullshit, for this fic and many, many others.
Title: the last thing i see
Wordcount: 1734
Summary: Cherri Cola has died before.
It’s not a big surprise to him when he dies again.
Warnings: blood, violence, major character death, implied self harm, referenced suicide and suicidal thoughts, and a fuckton of swearing as usual. (How did I fit that all in less than 2k words? Talent.)
Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)
AO3 Link
(Actual fic under the cut)
Cherri Cola has died before. 
He remembers what it was like, his breaths growing more difficult as the hot sand burnt his skin and everything hurt-hurt-hurt. He remembers how cold the darkness felt, the oblivion it promised. He remembers fighting against it, remembers the fear and the pain and the voice in his head screaming ‘I don’t want to die alone’. The helplessness, he remembers, too, his arms aching from the cuts he put there himself and the way he had forced them to try and drag his weight. Helpless and alone, and scared. He knows what it’s like to die in the desert.
Cherri Cola has died before.
It’s not a big surprise to him when he dies again.
The Girl leaves him by the water cooler, saying she’s going to Dr. D’s for the night. He doesn’t believe her, not after her words at the concert, but Cherri Cola is wise enough to know that he has to let her go. Much as he would like to hold her and protect her forever, he’s already failed to do that when she really needed it. So all he can do now is support her in what choices she makes and not think about how he’s failing to protect her like he failed to protect the killjoys who died to save her.
She doesn’t come back, and Cherri knows he’s already failed. He leaves to help her anyways, that day, when the dreadful news comes that mom and dad are coming home at last. It’s broadcast on every radio station, a cry, a call, a desperate scream for help. 
For the first time in over ten long years, Cherri picks up a ray gun, the weight familiar in his hands. He flicks the safety off, ready to shoot, and flips the switch from stun to kill. Although it takes precious moments he can barely afford to waste, he takes the time to fire a few practice shots before he tucks it away in the holster. He can’t afford for his skill to be compromised at all for this mission- a single slip could cost the lives of many of the young ‘joys of the desert, hardly more than children. So once his ray gun is ready to fire, he pulls on his mask. Die with your mask on if you've got to, just as Dr. Death Defying said all those years ago.
He will die with his mask on, that day.
Cherri arrives to chaos, and he doesn’t hesitate a second before jumping into the fight. Within moments, he can see Motorbaby crouched, looking like she’s been hit by a stun shot as a Draculoid stands over her. There’s not a single second to think, so he doesn’t. He just acts, taking down the drac with a single well-placed shot. Cherri ignores the stares of the ‘joys around him, every ounce of his focus on the Girl.
“Cola?” Her voice is weak, but it’s present, and he breathes a tiny sigh of relief.
“I’ll take care of this.” He’s failed her so many times, he won’t fail her this time.
“Cola, Val killed D. I didn’t get there in time to stop him, I-“ Cherri’s heart breaks at the anguish in her voice as she steadies and goes on. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” It’s more than okay; it’s his fault, really, but he doesn’t have the time or the words to express that. “Dr. Death Defying will be with our other friends soon. Now stay down!” 
It’s all the reassurance he has time to provide her as plasma bolts shoot past his head. Drac after drac falls to his ray gun, as easily as ever. Killing comes far too easily to him, or did. Now, it’s not quite the same, but he soothes the guilt that rises to choke him with whispers of ‘it’s for Motorbaby’. 
And he hardly has time to think, hardly time to breathe, before the Girl is trying to warn him. “Cola…behind you…”
There isn’t a second to move or dodge as a bolt hits him squarely in the back, and he knows he’s dead. Out of all the ways that he could have died, this one hasn’t been in his head for a long time, now. In his earlier days, in the Analog Wars, ‘in a fire fight’ would be a probable way for him to die, one he thought about often enough that he wouldn’t have been surprised. But by now, he’s been thinking he’ll fall at his own hands, not a scarecrow’s, for long enough that he’s still surprised as he topples to the ground. 
Dying in a firefight is nothing like the ways he’s died before. It hurts, of course it does, but in the detached way that means he’s already dead or close to that. It’s not a slow, painful death, it’s quick and fiery. Pain arcs through him, and he’s dead before he hits the ground. And despite the hint of surprise, he knows that he was never going to survive this fight. Like the Fabulous Four before him, he knew he would die for the Girl.
Cherri Cola dies, and he does not regret it.
The only thing he regrets now is that he can’t be there for the Girl as she stands up- or, rather, her spirit does. The Phoenix Witch scooped his mask off his face, and so Cherri is there too, but she keeps a firm grasp on his soul. There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say, to the Girl his friends loved so and he loved just as much. They are not in the spirit world, nor even the borderlands, and Cherri is helpless once again. Helpless to speak, helpless to comfort her, helpless to resist as the Phoenix Witch sweeps away with him and countless other souls.
This time, there’s no Newsie to save him. She fell some three years back, and Cherri was not brave enough to quest into the Phoenix Witch’s domain as she did for him. Newsie wouldn’t have been able to save him anyways, he knows. This was his last chance, the Phoenix Witch told him oh-so-many years ago. His last shot at life, granted to him by the love of his sibling.
There may be no Newsie to save him, but when the Phoenix Witch crosses the last boundary of the borderlands where he once stood, there is a Newsie to welcome him. 
They laugh, presumably at his stunned face, running over to give him a tight hug with a “Finally, fucker!” 
“Newsie? Newsie, I’m sorry-“
“Why the fuck are you apologizing? You’re finally fucking here!” Newsie freezes. “Cherri, you didn’t-“
“I died fighting Better Living Industries,” he promises.
“Oh thank fuck. How is it out there?”
“Bad, Newsie, it’s bad. Motorbaby is alive, which is a ray of hope, but some asshole named Val killed D-“
“Oh, yeah, we know. He showed up and immediately started giving Pone shit for making the afterlife glittery.”
“I don’t understand it!” Dr. Death Defying is there, all of the sudden, looking quite distressed. “How do you even make the spirit world glittery?”
“Ey’s Pony, D.” Cherri can’t help but smile. “Ey can’t just not glitter-ify places.”
“That’s because I’m the gayest Pony in the desert!” Show Pony flashes him a smile as ey skates up.
“Sure are, Pone,” Cherri says softly.
Next is Hot Chimp, grinning as she gives him a small wave. “Hey, brother-in-law.”
“Hey, sister-in-law. Nice to see you again."
And finally, four familiar figures who he hasn’t seen in far too long step out, looking exactly how he last saw them but minus the grim determination. Instead, Party Poison is grinning as Kobra Kid gives him a small nod, and Jet Star’s gentle smile is just as wide as Fun Ghoul’s toothy grin.
“I’m sorry,” Cherri tells them.
“We forgive you,” Poison says with surprising gentleness. “We never resented you much to begin with, even if you are an insufferable bastard. We’d never ask you to die for us.”
"I would have." It's important that they know that; he never go to tell them when they were alive.
"We knew that." Poison cracks a small grin. “Pepsi.”
Cherri isn’t even sure if ghosts can cry, but they must be able to because his cheeks are wet and words suddenly seem very difficult as he takes a few shuddering breaths.
“Oh Witch, I think I broke Pepsi,” Poison mutters. 
Newsie flips them off and gives Cherri a playful glare. “Come on, don’t start crying now, asshole! We’re finally all here, or mostly, anyways!”
That only makes him cry harder, burying his face in his hands just as he did the day the Fabulous Four died. It's been a long time since he's cried like this, utterly vulnerable but happy for once, a bittersweet cry as opposed to one of sheer pain.
As it turns out, ghosts can’t only cry, but also hug, and Cherri finds himself wrapped in so many sets of arms he can’t even tell whose are whose. He thinks it’s Newsie’s shoulder that his face ends up buried in, is pretty sure that the hands rubbing his back are Jet’s, but he really doesn’t know. It doesn’t really matter, in the end, because he’s here with his family and that’s all that really matters.
Later, they’ll trade tales of what happened while they were all apart and Cherri will tell the Fabulous Four everything about the Girl he can remember, from her cat to the fight with the exterminators. He’ll pretend not to notice Poison sniffling or how choked Ghoul’s voice is, and they’ll pretend not to notice how his voice breaks when he talks about the day they died.
Newsie and Hot Chimp will update him on all the ‘tea’ of the land of the dead and how Newsie almost punched the Phoenix Witch, and D will give him a surprisingly (given the fact  that they’re both dead) warm hug, and promise that it’s not his fault for failing to stop Val. And of course, Show Pony won't let him get away without a little bit of shittalking his fashion sense and catching up on what's happened since eir death.
But all of that will come later. For now, Cherri’s family holds him tightly, and that’s all Cherri needs.
12 notes · View notes
luobingmeis · 4 years
Note
can i get taako and lup with an "i know it hurts, i'm sorry."
A/N: i’m really kicking taako in the hurt/comfort shins tn
tw(s): injuries and blood, but a happy ending!!
--
“I know it hurts, Taako, I’m sorry.”
“It-” A grunt, barely concealed “-I’m fine, Lup.”
“T, you have an arrow sticking through your stomach, and two through your leg.”
“Exactly-” And Lup had to catch him as a pained gasp wracked its way through Taako’s lungs as he nearly collapsed with the next step he took. Then, like the asshole he is, he flashed a shit-eating grin up at her. “I’m fine.”
What a fucking asshole.
Okay, not an asshole, just deflecting. And Lup was just panicking. Just panicking, with her arm around her brother’s waist, practically carrying him as his right leg dragged behind them and his left hand wrapped around the base of the arrow through his stomach.
She squinted her eyes into the forest in front of them. Through the darkness, she could see the outlines of trees stretching further and further back.
In less than half a mile, they’d be at the Starblaster, and then Merle could take a look at Taako and get these arrows out of him and heal him and they could all laugh about the scars that would disappear in ten months.
It wasn’t the first time that any of them had been ambushed, it just wasn’t typical for only two of them to be there. Ambushes usually fell onto full crews, onto the ship; not the two of them just trying to find some fucking food.
Taako had been in the way. 
Of the four arrows shot, only three of them landed, and Lup was walking away just fine.
She tried not to think about it.
Tried not to think about it as a strangled noise came out of her brother as he almost went down, his knees buckling beneath him, and Lup, instinctively, tightened her grip around him and yanked him up.
Tried not to think about it as the arrow through him jostled and Taako hissed, teeth gritted and eyes shut tight as his footing faltered again.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Lup rushed out, trying to assess the damage without stopping and- fuck, shit, that was a lot of blood.
“You’re fine, you’re fine,” Taako forced out, barely managing to keep his voice from shaking.
Lup wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to do this around her, didn’t have to deflect and pretend like he wasn’t in a fuckton of pain, but she had a feeling that he wasn’t deflecting just for himself.
She tried not to think about the sound of arrows soaring through the air.
She, instead, thought about how she was going to get him up onto the deck of the Starblaster.
If they just kept moving forward-
“Wait, Lulu, wait,” Taako was saying, and his voice was quiet, pained, already the walls he had put up crumbling down. “Can we- stop. We can- I need to-”
“We’re almost back at the ship, I promise-”
“Can’t we just- they can find us-”
“Come on, Taako-” Lup forced a smile and hoped it wasn’t a grimace “-Mama didn’t raise no quitter.”
“Mama didn’t raise us.” Taako let out a ragged breath and leaned more of his weight onto Lup.
She just had to keep him moving. If they stopped now, then that could be it, and it’s only been two months, she wasn’t losing-
She took another step forward for the two of them.
And another.
“They were assholes, anyway,” Lup said. If she could just keep him talking- “Shooting two elves just looking for a snack. And we’re so charming, too! And trying to save their world but, you know, priorities.”
“Oh, Lu, please don’t make me laugh-” Out of the corner of her eye, even if it was slightly pained, she saw a smile on his face “-Just... keep going. And talking.”
“Cap’nport’s gonna have our ass for getting hurt.”
“He can’t when- when we have Magnus on board.”
“At least Merle is there to patch you up?”
“Not-” Another grunt “-Comforting.”
“Hey! He stitched me up last cycle!”
“Y-Yeah, Lu, and your stitches were a- a dick.”
Lup smirked. “Artistic freedom,” she said and, in the distance, lights and a silver hull were coming into view, and she could’ve cried out in joy if Taako hadn’t let out another wheezing gasp next to her.
He coughed, and Lup couldn’t ignore the small blood splatter in her peripheral.
“Come on, almost there,” she whispered. “It’s right there.”
As she got closer, she could make out the form of someone out on the deck, and-
“Barry!” She shouted, nearly scaring the shit out of Barry up on the deck. “Get- get Merle! And someone to help!”
The procedure was simple and easy. Merle had dealt with worse before, even including Taako’s threat to Magic Missile him off the deck if he even dared to take “artistic liberties” with his stitches. Within the hour, Taako was okay, just sentenced to lying down for the night so the stitches didn’t tear and bleed through the bandages.
Taako had chosen the couch. He claimed it what because he didn’t need “none of you chucklefucks forgetting about me holed up in my room,” though Lup didn’t think he minded the company.
She tried not to hover but, when she came to check on him for the third time in fifteen minutes, Taako arched an eyebrow at her with a small smile.
“You know I’m okay, right?” he asked.
Lup smirked. “Yeah, due to me hauling your ass through the woods.”
Taako shot the same smirk back. “Which was so valiant of you,” he said, and then his expression softened. “But I mean it. I’m... okay.”
Lup nodded, swallowing thickly. She appreciated the reassurance, but... “I know.”
“And I’ll be up and moving by tomorrow. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”
She knew that wasn’t quite true. They’ve lost half a crew within a day, once. “I know.”
“So?”
“So...?”
“Why are you looking at me like I’m about to beef it?”
Lup flushed and looked away, just for a moment, before looking back. 
It wasn’t often that one of them completed a cycle without the other. It had always been Taako and Lup, and that wasn’t something easy to change.
But when it did happen, when one of them finished out the year alone...
“Because, T, you became an elven pincushion in a hot two-point-five seconds, my man.” Lup forced a smirk, though she knew it was faltering.
If Taako was talking to anyone else, Lup knew that he would’ve rolled his eyes and made some witty quip about how it wasn’t like he chose to be in the line of fire.
Instead, eyes up at her, he said, “Well, it’s not like I wanted you getting hit, either.”
Lup sighed and looked away, running a hand through her tangled hair. “Yeah, I guess, but...”
“Hey?” And Lup looked back at him. “I’m okay, alright? We both are.”
Lup nodded.
“And I’m gonna be fine tomorrow.”
She nodded.
“And next time, we can send out Magnus. He’s been itching for some action. And a new scar or two.”
Lup snorted and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll love that.”
“Oh, absolutely.” He then smirked. “Now, dear sister, if you’d be so kind, there is a blanket on that couch over there that is just calling cha’boy’s name, but I’m so wounded and-”
“Oh, eat shit.”
“Lulu! I have taken the biggest hit of the cycle so far, and this is how you treat me?”
“By dragging your sorry ass through the woods, yeah, I know, how terrible of me!”
“Lup!”
“Fuck, maybe I should’ve left you out in the woods,” Lup said with an eyeroll and a laugh, though her words held no truth or malice. 
Taako gave her a dramatic pout.
Lup cast Mage Hand and shoved the blanket in his face. “Here, have your dumb blanket, dingus.”
Taako, ripping the blanket away from his face, flipped Lup off and, turning on her heel and laughing, she strided back into the kitchen, shooting him a grin over her shoulder.
114 notes · View notes
bakudekuficlibrary · 5 years
Note
Do you have any fics where bakugou is disabled? Yalls blog is sooooo wonderful, and I love yall sooooo much. 😍😍😍😍😍😍💚💚💚💚💚💚💚
Hey there! I’d like to note firstly that I’m able-bodied and I’m definitely not an expert on what is or isn’t a disability. I’ve tried to include all the physical and non-physical disabilities I could find. If I’ve been offensive or inconsiderate in any way here, please let me know.
- Jay
1 Series. 38 Works. 
Physical Disabilities 
The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh( T |298,721+ | 18/? )
“We’re really sorry,” his father says, in a teary-eyed, wobbly way. “But your friend, Izuku, he’s… He’s gone, son.”
Katsuki can do nothing but blink up at them for moments that feel like an eternity, eyes darting between both his parents in obvious confusion, disbelief, and, more than anything, indignation.
“What the fuck are you two talking about? The damn nerd is standing right beside you!”
During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in his state is no one other than Kacchan.
Alternatively: Deku and Kacchan have their souls bound to each other.
[PTSD]
[On Hiatus] That’s That by Fif Sold Her Soul( T |26,079+ | 8/? )
After receiving a life-changing injury that leaves him unable to do any hero work, Bakugou does the best next thing to save face and hide his condition from the world; He becomes a teacher at U.A
Easy right?
Apart from dealing with his rambunctious homeroom class, the new and annoying as fuck generation of villains, his new protégé, and his crippling self-esteem issues, and his crush on fucking Deku, all while hiding his condition from the world, then yeah pretty easy. Not.
Bakugou suddenly has a fuckton respect for Aizawa.
[Abuse | Suicide Mention]
Missed Connections by Labellevita( M |9,765+ | 3/5 )
Deaf Uni student Bakugou can’t catch a break, but he does catch the scent of a fantastic smelling omega.
Dull by choimarie( G |714 | 1/1 )
day 2: your eyes
“What? Never have seen a hot dude before?”
SeriesPart 2 of Bakudeku week 2k18
Tired by igrewupwiththis( Not Rated |10,980 | 2/2 )
Bakugou is just so exhausted, and he needs someone who takes care of him. y'all already know who it is.
Let’s Start Over Again by BrightEyesEren( T |4,107 | 1/1 )
Ten years down the road. Izuku and Katsuki went their separate ways, living their own lives, until they meet again after a tragic turn of events.
Izuku realises how fragile fire actually is.
love is blind (and deaf) by kagehinataboke( T |789 | 1/1 )
Izuku hesitantly opens the door, wielding an umbrella and ready to square up against a mugger. but it’s only one of his neighbors: a new one, in fact. Izuku faintly recalls him moving in a few weeks ago, but one unfriendly glare was enough to stop him from approaching.
he discreetly drops the umbrella behind the door. “can i help you?”
— a bakudeku one-shot
Thought So by zuccin( G |771 | 1/1 )
Midoriya watches Katsuki walk away as he remember the sorrowful past. And he’s glad everything turned out in the end.
I guess… I’ll just… fuckin’ read this by TheGeekProblem( G |1,533 | 1/1 )
Izuku works the graveyard shift in a diner and he’s really tired. A group of people come at 2 a.m. What could go wrong?
Senses by Phayte( E |22,294+ | 6/? )
In a freak accident through battle, Bakugou loses his sight. This is the story of his struggle, downward spiral, and the friends that get him through it.
Everything Before Mourning by hollyandvice( M |15,527 | 1/1 )
“Whatever this is has got you running scared, Kacchan. If it’s got you scared, it’s got me terrified. So please, just… just tell me what’s going on.”
Kacchan runs a hand over his face, suddenly looking old and tired and nothing at all like what Izuku is used to. It makes the tension in Izuku’s chest go even tighter, as though trying to suffocate him. Izuku bites back the fear that wants to spill over his tongue and tries to just pay attention to Kacchan.
Whatever this is, they’re going to get through it together.
When a fight with a villain has longer-reaching consequences than Kacchan expected, he calls on Izuku to help him through. Izuku doesn’t quite know what that will entail, but he knows he won’t back down from this. Not from Kacchan. Not ever.
Am I Ready? by Ryxmas( G |6,226 | 1/1 )
Even after one and a half years after his disappearance, Izuku never really stopped thinking about Katsuki. After all, Katsuki always had a habit of barging into your life, even if you never expected it.
No Warning by DeafBakugou( G |10,375 | 1/1 )
Bakugou survives a natural disaster and has to navigate the world without the normal accommodations he depends on as a Deaf individual.
Finding Out and Confessions by Needle_In_A_NeedleStack( G | 605 | 1/1 )
Bakugo is deaf, that’s why he’s always so loud. He hasn’t told anyone. So when Midoriya Izuku accidentally finds out Bakugo’s secret, how will things change.
Lost The Fight by Katt1848( T |1,733 | 1/1 )
Every Hero remembers the first time they weren’t able to save someone. This is Katsuki’s.
transfigured night by bittermoons( M |6,044 | 1/1 )
An unexpected hospital trip changes things between Izuku Midoriya, age forty-four, and his longtime roommate, co-parent, and co-composer, Katsuki Bakugou.
Migraines and Emotional Pains by Leonidas1754( G | 1,212 | 1/1 )
Bakugo gets migraines often, resulting in going home early and Midoriya taking care of him. Said migraines also often result in thinking too much about himself and Midoriya, and how much he simply doesn’t deserve Midoriya’s love. Thankfully, Midoriya still knows how to handle him.
[Abandoned] An Internship by Aizawa_mf_Shouta, Qnonymous( Not Rated |2,954 | 6/? )
Bakugou isn’t happy, and it only gets worse.
hole in the wall by imanimoon( M |1,214+ | 1/? )
The camera’s perspective shook as the holder zoomed in on the hero. Maybe they were hoping to catch the moment in which Zero would pull himself to his feet with gritted teeth and then, in a vicious roar, promise the demise of his opponent before seeing to it. As he always did.But he’d barely moved a muscle.The sound crackled on as someone yelled out to the hero before cutting off right after.“Why isn’t he moving?”What seemed like hours could only have been mere minutes before the camera caught someone’s faint whisper, their voice coated in trembling disbelief, “I-I don’t think he can.”
It’d been years since Japan had experienced a tragedy of this magnitude. Some even called it “The Leveling,” villains unleashing havoc around the city leaving hundreds of civilians dead, numerous buildings grounded, and even heroes brought to their knees.
When Bakugou awakens in a hospital without the ability to walk, he believes his life is over. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to retain his number one hero status as a “cripple”. It isn’t until his childhood friend re-enters his life and shows him firsthand that Pro-Heroes aren’t the only ones who can save people.
[Ableism | PTSD]
Champion by DirtyDeku( M |575 | 1/1 )
Hiya!! This is based on a few roleplays I’ve had with my dear friend!! I hope you all enjoy it.
[Rape/Non-Con]
Non-Physical Disabilities
[Series] Schizophrenic Bakugou by masteremeraldholder( T |22,496 | 3 Works | Complete )
In which, Bakugou Katsuki has schizophrenia, and how he deals with it in everyday life.
[Suicide Attempt | Self Harm | Panic Attacks | Ableism]
Longing for Clarity by sushisama( E |106,663+ | 16/23 )
Slice of life AU. Check notes in first chapter for more specific details.Katsuki is in his senior year, and though he’s dealing his own questionable mental condition, he can’t help the excitement of the upcoming graduation. But his boyfriend, Izuku, has been acting strange, being almost a little too intimate. They come to find out that Izuku is going through the fermin, a predicament certain Quirk holders go through. Now Katsuki is being forced into considering relinquishing the secrecy of their relationship, if only to keep all he wandering eyes from Izuku.
SeriesPart 1 of Fermin Story
And You Got To Me by hopeboiwonder( M |17,547 | 4/4 )
Katsuki’s need to immerse himself in something that wasn’t his new day in day out routine of working and sleeping leads him to discover a coffee shop in the middle of the night. Cafe Yagi.
Izuku’s hair billows and bunches, chasing after him like a salty, green ocean wave; churning up crests of bright shimmer from the light above. His eyes brown bowls speckled with rich golden rings around his pupils; and remind him of the thin film of crema on top of a freshly pulled espresso shot…
Needless to say, coffee hasn’t left his mind since.
Crash by Storyofanotakuslife( T |2,089 | 1/1 )
Bad days aren’t unusual for Katsuki, he’s learned to handle them the best he can. Which usually means alone. But bipolar doesn’t care about your feelings, and for once he’s actually willing to accept some outside help.
(Can be read as platonic or romantic bakudeku)
Izuku’s Home for Wayward Pets by glamour_weeb( E |50,436+ | 11/? )
Izuku works at the Bureau of Companion Protection as a rehabilitator for abused and abandoned Companions, animal-human hybrids. He’s seen his fair share of cruelty cases and even fostered a few Companions, but he’s never had a Companion of his own, until now. After rescuing Katsuki from a life in an illegal, underground Companion fighting ring, Izuku must take in the wolfdog that no one else can handle.
Eventually, Katsuki comes to love his new home, as well as his new Master.
[PTSD | Past Abuse]
be loved by bonnia( T |5,403 | 1/1 )
They sit there, in the darkness of the common room, about a few centimeters between them, but miles apart. Somehow, the quiet is companionable. More than it has been in many years. Katsuki knows he’s responsible for the rift between them, and he knows even more that it can’t only be Deku who attempts to mend it.
“Hey,” he says, after a while, and Deku turns to him in question, but Katsuki refuses to look his way. “Touch me again.”
(or: the kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands)
[PTSD | Panic Attacks]
new eyes by WabiSabi( T |56,645+ | 16/? )
Katsuki wakes up 22 years in the past.
With no other choice, he moves on.
(Or where Katsuki tries to mind his own business and fails spectacularly because he can´t stand people pissing over those who gained his respect. Even Deku. Especially Deku.)
SeriesPart 1 of Decrescente
[PTSD]
The Absolute Truth by Glon_Morski ( E |67,078 | 5/5 )
“What words did you say, exactly? Share with us. Show us how much of a monster you really are, Ground Zero.”
I told him…
‘Shut up!’
…that I have a time saving idea for him…
‘Shut up!’
…that if he wants to have a quirk that badly…
‘Shut the fuck up!!!’
…he should take a swan dive off a roof and hope for a quirk in his next life
The pain blooms on his throat this time as the characters that write the answer carve themselves into his skin. It doesn’t feel like a scalpel cutting through his skin this time. Nor does it feel like his skin is breaking on its own after being stretched too thin. Instead, the experience is akin to having his throat literally shredded, as if a million of tiny, jagged claws or teeth are digging into his flesh and pulling at it to brand him with the words.
This time, Katsuki screams.
A.K.A In which Katsuki is captured by villains who want to expose him as a ‘false hero’ (as per Stain’s ideology) and use a truth serum-like quirk to do it.
Mind the tags.
[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD | Panic Attacks]
[On Hiatus] You Were October Nights by AlchemyandHeroAnalysis( E |27,728+ | 4/? )
Across the locker room, tucked into the small corner of the wall separating the changing room and the showers, sat the Bakugou Katsuki with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head tucked in his arms. If Izuku hadn’t heard him, he probably would never have seen him to begin with. But he could. He could see and hear everything.
Please, don’t be real.
His gut twisted painfully as Katsuki’s broken sobs echoed against the concrete walls. His entire body shook with each desperate wail that escaped him. It sounded as though he was in complete and utter agony, painfully vulnerable and without any remote sign of stopping.
Summary:Izuku stumbles upon an emotionally distraught Katsuki in the agency locker room and is horrified by what he sees. What could have possibly happened to make his childhood friend this … broken?
[Rape/Non-Con | PTSD | Abuse | Self Harm | Addiction]
I Could Never Know A World Without You. by Kasplode( M |45,800+ | 9/? )
“Stay back, Deku.”
Izuku doesn’t listen. That decision leads to his death.
In a twist of fate that entwines him irrevocably with Katsuki, it turns out their time together isn’t over yet.
(OR: the bodysharing wonder duo AU where Izuku is kidnapped along with Katsuki, and the combination of unprecedented quirks leads to unexpected results.)
[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD | Panic Attacks | Dissociation | Abuse]
Letting Go is the Ruffest Thing by SurelyHeavenWaits( T |5,541 | 1/1 )
For Bakugou Katsuki, storms bring change and never the good kind. Those howling winds and driving droplets of rain spell the end of an era for him, every single time.
Until this storm.
This storm brings Deku.
[PTSD]
[On Hiatus] Lost and found by Sad_Pawn( T |12,329+ | 6/? )
Katsuki is finally back after being taken by the League of Villains. However, he seems to have lost an important piece of himself. Can he recover without it?
Midoriya is so relieved that Kacchan is back and safe. But when he visits him, he immediately notices something is terribly, terribly wrong. Can he help restore his childhood friend's hope?
[PTSD | Panic Attacks]
Fix Me by goateyes( E | 8,901+ | 3/? )
After an important mission goes south Bakugo finds himself in the hospital suffering from a severe injury. His agency forces him to go to physical therapy where he meets his therapist Midoriya, love (and chaos) ensues.
[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD]
ghostin' by chaoticheroes( G |1,583 | 1/1 )
“I’m proud of you.”
“You’ve said that already, dumbass.”
“Yeah, well, I am. Proud of you, that is.” Katsuki rolls his eyes and tries to turn his head away but Izuku presses his hand to his cheek, forcing their eyes to meet. Izuku can’t see clearly but if he could, he knows Katsuki would be matching him with the same intensity that he’s known for. “I have every right to be proud of you. I love you. You having issues that are a little bigger than the both of us changes absolutely none of that, Kacchan.”
[PTSD]
The Bonds that bind by EloFromMars( E | 2,818 | 1/1 )
Izuku is excited, tonight is their anniversary. He had planned everything. Or so he thought.
[PTSD | Panic Attacks]
[On Hiatus] Routine by strawberryflavoring( M |1,714+ | 1/? )
Bakugou isn't good at handling himself, and Deku's been too busy to see him getting worse. So, as you'd probably expect, Bakugou flips shit.
[Rape/Non-Con | PTSD | Self Harm]
257 notes · View notes
keelywolfe · 4 years
Text
FIC: Playing Games (baon)
Summary: In the aftermath of Internal Disputes, Sans wasn't alone, not when his own thoughts could be haunting him.This wasn't how things were supposed to work, none of it, and there was nothing he would do but wait.
Tags:  Kustard, Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Major Character Injury, Hospitals, References to Collaring
Notes:  Now, I want you to know that I say this with the greatest sincerity possible, but all you people that got me shipping kustard? I hate you all.
Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.
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Read it here!
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The hospital chairs weren’t bad when it came to comfort, especially if you ran a little shorter in the pants than average. Not that it would’ve mattered much if they weren’t, Sans was well-trained in how to get to sleep in any and all places, knew exactly how to curl up in a folding chair for maximum comfort, no matter how hot or cold the climate got around him.
Tonight, he was only too tired to sleep. That didn’t matter either, he’d been worse off plenty of times before. Only thing that mattered was that Paps was the one sleeping, and that was enough of a topsy-turvy to make Sans want to check they hadn’t missed an exit and were still in the right universe.
Probably were; from what Stretch said, when you first took a sideways step into another world, you could feel the wrongness of it in your bones. His bones felt shaky and sore, a fine litter of bruises all along his side where he’d hit the asphalt, but none of them were sending out Morse code squawking that the sky was falling, so they were all right there. Chicken Little would have to wait for another day, though maybe he’d check in with Stretch’s little flock, see how their bones were feeling--
Sans ran a weary hand down his face, smelling the lingering smoky char. Fuck, he was tired.
In the hospital bed surrounded by machines and IV’s, Papyrus was lying perfectly still, and it was so fucking wrong to see. Even when he was sleeping Paps usually twisted and turned like he was training for the next Olympics. That little quirk cost Sans plenty of his own sleep when they were kids, nights huddled together for warmth beneath a threadbare blanket and all the while his baby bones bro tried to sleepwalk a watusi up his spine.
Sometimes Sans missed that little kid.
The fancy suit Papyrus always wore when he was playing ambassador was gone, replaced by a hospital issue gown that would give a peepshow of his pelvis when he stood. His old clothes were past the dry cleaning stage, scorched all the way up his spine and yeah, that sight was gonna haunt Sans’s dreams a coupla times in the near future, as was the bitter taste of his own soul in his throat when he crawled over to him, all the dazed moans and screams around them as he clung to his brother, frantically checking him over.
Yeah, let’s close that scene and set the memory box aside for those upcoming dreams to rifle through. No need to re-live the nightmare during the daytime, too.
Sans shifted in the chair, pulling his bare, bony feet up onto the cushion. He hadn’t changed his own clothes yet; about all he’d managed was kicking off his shoes, his filthy socks draped over them like the peels of the world’s most disgusting fruit. His travel outfit was a lil’ different than his bros, a hoodie and shorts were about as fancy as he cared to get, maybe a pair of sunglasses if he was feeling particularly feisty about it.
That getup was fine for someone on security team, something Papyrus very much was not, and Sans was planning to have a nice, long chat about that with him whenever his brother finally woke up.
He was gonna wake up and Sans was gonna be here waiting when he did, thanks.
As if magnetically drawn, a compass endlessly searching for north, Sans’s eye lights slid back to the bed towards his sleeping brother. His skull was still abnormally pale against the pillowcase, a revealing sign of magic drain despite the IV steadily dripping at his bedside. So very pale, except for the fine line of a fresh crack running down the side of his skull. Barely visible, really, someone who didn’t know any better might mistake it for a cranial suture.
Sans knew better.
It’d been a lot worse before Tori started in on it, crawling over to them through the rubble on the tarmac, ignoring shouts to stay down and her normally pristine white fur had been filthy, hands already caked with crimson marrow even as she reached out to Papyrus. The ugly wound Sans could barely stand to look at vanished beneath a thick green glow and that little crack was all that was left, a souvenir of Papyrus’s first trip to California. His brother had slumped to the ground after, those thready, pained moans fading. He’d been unconscious ever since.
He was gonna be fine; both Tori and Blue told Sans’s that over and over on the plane ride home, gonna be just fine. He was out cold was all, used up his magic down to the last dregs generating enough of a shield to cover himself and two other people besides. Right now it was nothing but a waiting game, Sans moving his pawn across the board until he landed on the ‘good morning, sunshine’ spot.
Just fine, sure, and Sans believed them. But he really wished he could roll doubles right now and speed up the process.
Most of his thoughts were either being firmly suppressed or focused the still figure laying on the bed, but Sans did manage to spare one or two leftover balls from the ones he was mentally juggling to wondered tiredly how Stretch was holding up. He’d been eating shit sandwiches himself this weekend, and now honey boy was topping it off with big ol’ slice of disaster pie. At least Sans had the luxury of being with his bro from the get-go. Trying to picture how he’d feel knowing only the bare details of what’d happened sent a cold frisson through his soul. That was enough for him to offer sending Edge out in the first ambulance; at least he was with his brother, Edge and Blue were both stuck in limbo all the way home.
Besides, he’d gotten to see plenty of the show on the flight home in the moments when Edge wavered into brief wakefulness. No wonder he never wanted to smoke weed or even drink much. They’d doped him to the gills without mercy, and now Sans was gonna have to live with an eternity of regret that the loss of his phone meant he didn’t get a chance to record Edge massacring a heartfeltly sung rendition of ‘I Want It That Way’.
Since Tori and Blue were no fun at all and refused to do it either, seemed the best option was to send Edge out and hope Stretch got a front row seat to the second act.
That show had been a helluva lot better than the inflight movie Edge’d given them on the way out. Stoic and distant since the second he’d gotten on the plane, a fuckton more so than usual. Wasn’t until Blue snuck in a whisper to Sans what was up that he got it. Anniversary tomorrow, yeah, husband back home while he got stuck playing lead babysitter with Sans as backup ‘cause Red was off saving the world or catching an early bird sale, some bullshit, anyway.
(not thinking about red, better not to, better to not)
Stretch probably pitched a bitchfit about Edge tagging along without him and Sans hadn’t registered to vote in this election, but he was gonna go with Stretch as his candidate. There was no good reason he could think of to make Stretch stay home past paperwork and pissiness, and the fact that Blue thought his Papy staying home was the better choice told him all he needed to about that.
They’d been Aboveground for a few years now and Stretch was nowhere near as bad off as he’d been back when they’d first shown up on the doorstep back in Snowdin. He’d gone the good boy route, got himself a therapist and everything. He was happy, anyone could see that, and HP issues aside, it was ‘bout time to cut the apron strings let Stretch mess up his own cooking.
Edge was better about it than Blue, but looked like he was still trying to play sous chef ‘cause Stretch wasn’t on the plane. Their fearless leader had put up a good front, but any moron could see he was upset, and Sans wasn’t just any idiot on the street. Whatever his reasoning, Edge obviously wasn’t happy about leaving his honey behind.
Welp, Sans had a feeling Edge wasn’t super eager to add Stretch to the roster now. Not after spending some quality time laying on the crumbled tarmac waiting for a stretcher, banged up and bandaged the best they could manage on the fly while the Human side of the contingency ran around squawking out orders, getting everything on lockdown. Trying to keep everything on the down-low until they could get a proper press release in order, yeah, that was the right procedure.
Sans still didn’t have a single qualm about slipping Edge that phone so he could let Stretch know he was okay. ‘Course he’d probably scared him shitless the way he started rambling on like it was his deathbed confession hour instead of just saying ‘alive and kicking’, oops, but eh, couldn’t win ‘em all.
Sans wasn’t winning a lot of ‘em lately.
The stack of blankets were tucked around Papyrus with generous care, but Sans got up and went over to him, anyway, smoothing the imaginary wrinkles in covers. His hands were beneath the blanket, the better to keep them toasty warm. Probably for the best, it was bad enough having to look at his skull, that single ragged crack. If he had to keep looking at his bro’s bruised, battered knuckles, Sans might go nuts.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was his duty to play big bro, his, he’d taken that on years ago while he was still in his own striped shirt, his very first job. He was the one in Security, he was the one who was supposed to fucking protect, and even if Sans thought maybe he’d fucked that up a time or two before, suspected that there was a memory he didn’t possess, a
(reset)
past that wasn’t theirs. But he’d been keeping up their end of the bargain since his bro decided to be an Ambassador and Paps wasn’t supposed to break it, he fucking wasn’t—
The door creaking made Sans jerk, heat rushing to his fingertips in a heady blurt of magic for an attack that stopped forming the moment he saw who it was. He took a long, slow breath, shaking away his exhausted agitation the best he could, cause he was going to need every wit that hadn’t been blown away in the explosion to deal with this.
Red was standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. The light pouring in behind him cast him in shadow except for the smoldering glow of his eye lights burning out from his sockets.
Sans only ignored his awful horror movie impression and wandered back to his chair, crawling up to settle on the cushion with a weary sigh.
"you done with skulking around trying not to talk to me?" Sans asked. He didn't mean to sound as pissy as he did, but did Red really think he wouldn't notice? On the plane, outside the ambulance, even here, Red'd been all over, watching but not getting close.
No answer came, no sardonic comeback, no angry snarl. Red stepped into the room and closed the door behind him with disturbing care. Probably only playing at kindness for Papyrus’s sake, but something about his expression was unnerving, the lines of his face laid out in a way that Sans didn’t know.
He came close to the chair without reaching, only stood there, hands visibly fisted in his pockets. Crimson eye lights resting on Sans, but more like Red was looking through, like Sans wasn’t even there and Red’s gaze was laser-focused on the wall behind him.
“came to tell you i’m taking off for a while,” Red said, every word filled with deliberate indifference, “dunno how long.”
Sans only nodded. “yeah. thought you might.”
“wanted to see if you’d keep an eye on that fucking cat of mine.” Again, nothing but cool detachment, Red speaking to the wall and expecting answers.
He made no mention of asking Edge and Sans didn’t either. “sure, why not, i could use a few more scrapes for my collection. maybe i can trip over him on the stairs, add a few broken bones to the tab.”
There, a veritable hit; Red winced visibly, the distance in his gaze wavering. It was almost fascinating, really, watching with his own detached interest as Red tried to force it back. Must be a sign of his own shaken control, all of it unraveling, snapping into its proper place as he actually looked at Sans.
Sans had a pretty good idea what Red was seeing. The force of the explosion had thrown them all to the ground in spite of any shields, leaving behind a nice collection of mottled bruises and bloody scrapes to share around. His own pain had been secondary, unnoticed until they’d been shoved back on the plane for a ride straight back home. He’d been sitting next to Paps when Tori came over, watching the metronome precision of the rise and fall of his rib cage like only the force of his will was keeping his brother breathing.
The cold wetness against his skull had stung and it was only then that he noticed his own hurts. He’d sat there and concentrated on keeping Papyrus breathing, let Tori gently clean him up the best that she could.
So he didn’t have any illusions about what kind of eye candy he was right now. Another note of interest that Red didn’t seem to be able to look away, the minute flicker of his eye lights moving as they traced over those bruises and scrapes.
“i need to go,” Red repeated, but that indifference was wavering, seeping away, leaving behind something that was almost pleading. Huh. How about that. “i gotta. this is my fault. i’ve gotta—"
“listen to the ego on you,” Sans snorted. “even you can't know everything.”
“no, you don't fucking get it.” Shattered desperation, like nothing Red ever showed. Seemed like those walls Red kept up weren’t quite as impervious as Sans always thought; words were spilling out of him, vomited out in pained rush. “i didn't have shit going on here. i didn't come along on this trip because i knew you'd go without me and i…i wanted you away. for a couple days. wanted some time to get my head on straight and i didn’t give a shit who i pissed off to get it, i—"
Yeah, Sans could believe that. Fucked over his own brother and Stretch, and why not? It was only to get out of a Security detail that would’ve left him sharing a hotel room with Sans, left them out in the open in front of everyone. Made them obvious in a way that somehow Red didn’t think they’d been before, fooling no one but himself, but it was a lie Red somehow needed.
Knowing that was a different sort of bruise, on his soul instead of his bones, and every word out of Red was giving it a rough press. It was satisfying in a strange way, to know Red was panicking over him, made him want to feel it again.
"all right,” Sans said calmly.
"no, it ain't all right!" Red snarled, his voice cracking, breaking, breathing too heavily. "if I hadn't've fucked off--"
"then you would've been there instead of edge and it would all have happened the same way." He felt oddly serene, floating in his own peculiar calm. "you're one person. even you can't be everywhere and know everything. ‘sides, if that’s your fault, this is mine.” He flung his hand out like an attack at the hospital room, towards his brother lying unconscious in front of him. “’m getting sloppy, should’ve reacted faster.”
Red twitched, stepping closer, grasping that line of thought with eager gratitude, “reacted to what? how did my brother know? toriel ain’t sure and neither was blue—"
“intent.” Sans shivered, remembering the prickle of it washing over him, virulent hate that came a bare second too late for him to react. The memory of it made him remember something else, a delirious question forgotten in the aftermath, “didn’t think edge could beat me when it came to sensing intent.”
Red waved that off. “he’s been practicing ever since andy got turned into a pincushion outside that chinese place. what else?”
Of course he was, Edge probably spent his lunch hour wandering the streets to see how much hate he could pick up, that was a filling meal. “it was coming from the driver. edge was a lot closer to the car, he must’ve felt it before i did. he yelled for everyone to get down but by then, paps already had me face first on the asphalt.” He shrugged, trying not to think too deeply of the wash of vicious heat, the sound of it, the screams, fuck, all the screams— “after that, it gets a little explody. i can still hear it a little, it’s like listening to a seashell lodged in my head. doc said it might take a day or two for the echo to fade out.”
“that it?” Red’s gaze bore into him.
“that’s all i’ve got,” Sans drawled sourly. He turned in the seat, lounging with deliberate casualness, his legs hanging over the arm. “that’s the shit, the whole shit, and nothing but the shit. so that happened and our bros got hurt, yeah, but they’re gonna be fine. so, now, you wanna take off and go headhunting? you go on ahead. play your little game, start following your clues. just remember after paps wakes up and i can see he’s okay? i’m coming to find you.”
Red had been nodding along and Sans could see the moment realization bled through, the indignant rasp as he snapped out, “the fuck you are!”
“the fuck i’m not,” Sans countered, tauntingly. He ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting his own sweat, the bitterness of smoky residue as he goaded, “how are you gonna stop me? ask edge to chase me down while he plays hop along cassidy on some crutches?” Fury was sparking in Red’s eye lights like a firecracker as Sans went on with fractured glee, “he’ll be a coupla weeks recovering, you know. even you harping on him to get up and play protector ain’t gonna change that. gonna tattle on me to asgore, gonna lock me up? tie me to your bed?” Sans tapped a finger against his cheek bone pensively, a mockery of thinking, “or maybe i won’t go after you at all. maybe i’ll see about playing a little on my own.”
Ah, that, that right there. Sans could feel the impotent fury rolling off of Red, about the only time he couldn’t get it up, hands flexing as if he wished there was something in them and for a distant moment, he thought Red might actually attack him and wouldn’t that make for an interesting problem to explain.
Then it was gone, all that anger and frustration swallowed into nothingness. Interesting how Red managed to break without so much as changing expression. Must be a gift.
“you win,” Red said abruptly.
“we playin’ something?” Sans asked lightly,
“only with our lives. ain’t like anything important.” There was a sharp prick of frustrated anger in that, wasn’t all gone, then, only banked. A point Red proved by stalking forward to take Sans’s chin in two sharp fingers, yanked it up. Crimson eye lights searched Sans’s face and he couldn’t begin to wonder what they hoped to find. “you even know what you’re getting into here?”
“i’ve been fucking you for over a year.”
“i ain’t talking about fucking.” Those searing eye lights pierced deeply into him, crawling over the depths of his soul. “do you know?”
Deliberately, Sans lifted his chin more, exposing the bones of his cervical vertebrae. Red’s gaze dropped, lingered over them with hypnotic weight, and his fingers followed, coiling around Sans’s throat like a metaphor.
“if you like it, then you shoulda put a collar on it,” Sans said, soft and singsong. “i’ve been fucking you for over a year, fucking around three times that, you think i don’t know? collar me, claim me. may as well, i ain’t going anywhere, anyways.”
Red shuddered, lurching forward another step and his fingers tightening convulsively, not quite painlessly. “collar you? like you’d be fucking obedient.”
“from what i saw of you wearing one, i always figured the obedience part was an optional add-on. besides, at least i’m housebroken.”
The thin fingers around his throat tightened again, so very close to choking and Sans only shivered, yearning into that grip even as Red whispered with low, virulent intensity, “should’ve known i couldn’t keep dodging you forever.”
Red leaned in, but not for a kiss. His mouth was suddenly hot on Sans’s collarbone, dragging over I, uncaring of the sweat and filth coating him. Sharp teeth nicked tantalizingly against bone and Sans couldn’t hold back a cry, edged with a near sob because he wasn’t supposed to get this, he wasn’t, wasn’t supposed to have this suddenly thrust into his lap like a gift. His magic gave stirring an unfortunate try, but he was thankfully too tired to demo how much his psyche was absolutely going for the sweet threat in that touch.
"i wanna to keep you," Red muttered, mostly to himself, something like desperation curling around every word. Sans answered anyway, mumbling mindlessly.
"okay. okay, yeah."
"wanna keep anyone else from touching you,” whispered against him, a promise, a threat, Sans didn’t know. Red’s tongue was winding around his clavicles, sharp fingertips tearing Sans’s t-shirt, exposing more. “wanna put my collar you, warn the whole world that you're mine."
"yeah," Sans breathed brokenly. His hands move of their own accord, not bothering to ask for permission as they clutch at Red’s shoulders, blunt fingertips digging into the leather of his coat with creaking force.
"That sounds very romantic and potentially disturbing, but may I ask if you could do that in your bedroom and not here in front of me?"
Sans came pretty fucking close to kicking Red to the floor as he jerked up to see his brother’s sockets open, blinking at them owlishly. It wasn’t even a thought to scramble down and go to him; reaching for Papyrus was as automatic as drawing a breath. His brother reached back and if his hands were shaking a little, if there was something tremulous and almost fragile in that touch, Sans didn’t care.
His brother was awake and reaching for him, pulling him up on the bed and into his arms.
“Hush, there’s no need to cry,” Papyrus scolded gently, but he held on to Sans with enough force to get his bruises singing out an Ava Maria. “I’m perfectly all right and even if I’m not, you are, so that’s fine.”
“that is so not fine, paps, it is completely the opposite of fine,” Sans wiped away embarrassing flood of tears, sniveling humiliatingly into his sleeve even as Papyrus flailed and tried to reach for the box of Kleenex on the bedside table. “me and red are the ones working in the security department, we—”
He turned back to the chair, trailing off when he found it empty.
Well, shit.
“know something, bro?” Sans sighed out, even as he settled into his brother’s arms. “that whole vanishing thing is fucking annoying when i’m not the one doing it.”
Papyrus smoothed a hand down his spine, more gentle than not, and if he had an inkling of what he just interrupted, he was kind enough not to ask. “Never fear, brother, you are always fucking annoying whether you’re trying or not.”
Probably true. Hearing his brother swear was always enough to give his soul a seizure, even if he knew Papyrus only did it to get a rise out of him. He needed to go find one of the docs, let him know Paps was awake and there were probably tests that needed to be run, x-rays maybe, who the fuck knew.
It could wait a minute. Right now, the only place his soul wanted to be was right here.
But later, he thought maybe he had some dice to roll. Some asshole in a stupid hat once said the game was afoot and now that he knew there was a chance?
Sans was playing to win.
-finis-
65 notes · View notes
hide-the-cutlery · 4 years
Text
The next two days are going to suck.
I’m out of pills. Well, not completely out. I have about 8 of my anxiety pills left — to last me 3 weeks. I’m supposed to take 3 a day. So I have those, and some otc pills that take me out of myself a little, but I have to be careful with those, because, for me, they can trigger panic. I can pick up my pain meds in 2 days, but they usually makes me puke. I thought I was doing better this month with my usage, but I guess not. Then there’s more anxiety pills that supposedly help with my alcohol cravings, which aren’t a controlled substance, so I can probably get those next week. None of this really matters, because I don’t have shit now.
I’m so medicated. Even if I took everything as prescribed, I’d probably be an incoherent mess. I’m a master manipulator with doctors, which I’m simultaneously proud of and ashamed of. I know how to get what I want, within reason. It’s all about building a rapport with them and finding that sweet spot where they believe you need what you’re getting and never trying to push for more. I tried a few times to get another of my anxiety pills a day, but my psychiatrist pushed back and changed something else instead, so I knew I had to drop it.
What boggles my mind is that I’m a fucking alcoholic (addict), and these medical professionals still throw potentially dangerous, addicting medication at me. What pisses me off is how much they don’t listen. I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and brought a list of things I wanted to talk about with him, since the appointments go so fast. I wanted to explain my racing thoughts keeping me from completing simple tasks. My complete lack of impulse control. My delusional beliefs that the universe is trying to get back at me for being a shitty person. That I’ll stay up all night (sometimes for 2-3 nights in a row) and do things like clean. Even if I lay down, turn off everything, and pray for sleep, I just can’t. The fact that I didn’t finish my cleaning (or whatever I started) gets in my head and makes rest impossible. His solution? Let’s increase your seroquel again.
Scary things are starting to happen. Sometimes I go on a “bender” in a store(s), and I don’t remember when, how, what I got, etc. My memory needs to be jogged sometimes. This past time I got twelve bottles of body wash, for a total of 29. And that’s not including hairspray, hair gel, hair accessories, dry shampoo, lotion, makeup, nail polish, and a fuckton of clothes. I am out of control. It’s funny — I want to lose a little more weight (I just lost ~25lbs), but then all the clothes I’ve acquired won’t fit, so the fruits of my labor will be spoiled. I’ll have to start over. That is literally my thought process, and it’s so fucked. Stores know me. They watch me. They follow me. They know my fucking name and know what I do. And honestly, I just don’t care. I mean I care because I don’t want to get caught again, but the odds are seemingly in my favor. Even the LP woman where I actually got the cops called on me said “we’ve been watching you a long time, but you’re too good.” Not saying that as something to brag about, just recalling what happened. Also, I recognize when someone is trying to manipulate me. She was trying to get me to confess to other things because what they must have had on me would never hold up in court. I am not stupid. I don’t know what I did that time to allow them to catch me, but clearly I slipped up somewhere. Either that, or they just went with it, hoping I’d confess. Which I did. I cooperated; hopefully it helps me in the end. I was watching trashy tv this morning, and a woman mentioned she went to jail for two months for petty theft. The host of the show even seemed shocked by that. Maybe she had priors or other factors that played into it. But yeah, I can’t go to jail! It’s not an excuse, and if you look at my actions alone, yeah, maybe I deserve to go to jail, too. But (prepare yourself for some massive excuses) I’m sick. I don’t do it because I want material things. I don’t think I am above the law. I’m not trying to make some pathetic stand against capitalism. I just can’t control my impulses, and I’m sick. I’m working with my therapist, my psychiatrist (at least I make an effort to), and some women in AA to get help, and nothing is working. I thought after I got caught, I’d stop, and for a while, I did. But that apparently wasn’t enough, either. It’s a compulsion — fighting it is futile. It actually started out as excessive spending, but I ran out of the means to keep that up, so now it’s this. I know it’s because of my issues with addiction and mental health. I don’t see it any differently than drinking, drug use, sex, or whatever. It’s an alternative to drinking. I can’t do that anymore, so this filled the void. Every time I have spent money excessively or done this, I haven’t been drinking. The object of my addiction (for me, at least), bounces around until I can’t do that thing anymore, and my brain holds up a sign that says NEXT in glowing, red letters. Like a “no vacancy” sign at a shitty motel.
I know before I went on that little tangent, I was listing some things that are scaring me. Sometimes, after I wake up, I’ll check my phone and find that I tried to write, but it’s total jibberish. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing time. I don’t know where the days go; I wake up and (try to) go to bed. I’ll start to do something, my mind will go blank, and I won’t remember what I was doing. I’m stumbling all over the place. I’ll try to have conversations (usually in the morning), and I’ll be able to hear myself slurring. I seem to talk without thinking. An example: I’ll be in a room with only one other person, talking to them, but it will feel like part of myself has separated from me and is screaming “You LIAR! Shut the fuck up! That��s not true and you know it. Quit pulling things out of your ass and tell the fucking truth. Drop the whole facade; you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, nor do you believe what you’re saying. You’re pathetic. Spineless. You’re fake.” I swear I couldn’t pick myself out of a lineup sometimes.
I feel that third presence with me frequently, but recently it hit a new level of intensity. I had a few job interviews a couple weeks ago and I found myself exaggerating the truth so much that it made me feel uncomfortable. All I could hear in my head was “LIAR LIAR LIAR”. (And forcing myself to make unwavering eye contact made me feel ill.) I tried to tell myself that’s just how interviews go, and that they weren’t really lies at all, just maybe a few embellishments, but I cannot listen to myself when I’m being rational. Irrationality is really all I know lately. I ended up taking a position with a company that seemed sketchy as hell, but I was desperate. I’m tired of being broke and needed the money so badly that it would have been absolutely foolish of me to decline the offer. The me who showed up to those interviews and got hired was not the me who showed up on the first day. The embellishments and feigned self-confidence were gone — all that was left was pitiful, anxious me with one foot out the door in case I had a panic attack and who won’t look you in the face, much less make eye contact. The more and more I learned about the position and the company, the more I wanted out. It turned out to be door-to-door sales, which was not how the job was described in the interviews. If there ever were a job that wasn’t for me, that’d be it. The leader of my team obviously noticed and basically let me quit. So I’m back to being unemployed. Oh well, it was a life lesson. I’m also back to being broke (not that I ever wasn’t). I didn’t even get paid for my training! I’m doing worse and worse things to get a few bucks here and there. It’s shameful. I would have declined the position on the spot, but my family is pushing me so hard to go back to work full time that I couldn’t in good conscience say thanks, but no thanks. I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t think I’m ready. Sadly, you can’t look at someone and see what’s going on in their mind. If they could do that, I’m pretty sure they’d back off. I’ve been telling them I have to make my own decisions, and my priority is getting some help with my mental health. That didn’t really go over well. They think I’m capable because I had my shit (somewhat) together a few years ago, but it’s not a few years ago anymore. I’m still recovering and struggling. The tension in this house is almost tangible, and it’s completely my fault. Well, it’s my fault in the sense that I’m not where they want or expect me to be. It’s not that I don’t want to work or contribute financially. I do. I want a normal existence, but “this life I loathe is in my way”.
So because of all this, I’ve decided to look at getting a complete psych evaluation. I’ve never been given any kind of diagnoses aside from issues with depression, anxiety, and substance abuse. I know that’s not all that’s going on. I’ve had potential diagnoses thrown around like bipolar disorder, BDP, OCD tendencies, suppressed memories of trauma... I’m sure the pills don’t help (“but it sure is funny”). I take them because I can’t handle day to day functioning. Every day it feels like there’s a crisis, and I’ve felt this way long before I ever took a swig of vodka or popped some pills. When I discovered those things, nothing seemed as intense anymore. I stopped jumping at my own shadow. No wonder I’m an addict.
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onsgiftexchange · 5 years
Text
This is for Sav ( @awildsavvy )! I hope that you enjoy it :)  __________________
“WE HAVE TO JUMP!”
“ARE YOU CRAZY!?”
  The yells could barely be heard over the loud explosions, which were seemingly endless, along with the very insistent alarm that was blaring loudly. The next explosion was close enough that they stumbled, almost knocked off of their feet from the force of it. 
  “We can make it! I know we can!” The blonde male urged. The female that was with him looked away, uncertain. “Mika I don’t –” She wasn’t able to finish her sentence, because the man - Mika - had already grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up. They were rapidly declining, the burning helicopter approaching the ground faster and faster, steadily gaining speed. 
  “Come on, come on…” the male mumbled, oblivious to the obvious fright on the girl’s face. Her lilac hair - which had originally been pulled back into a tight bun - was flying everywhere, wind whipping it back and forth.  Now. Mika thought as he watched the sandy clearing draw nearer. Without a second thought, he jumped out of the helicopter, holding on tightly to the girl in his arms. 
  There was a moment in which the only thing he could hear was the roaring of the wind in his ears, and the only thing he could feel was a sudden weightlessness, before he crashed into the sandy dune. The impact ripped the girl from his arms, causing them both to go rolling in the hot, grainy sand with grunts and moans. 
  Before Mika could even think to get up, the helicopter crashed and erupted. The two figures were flung backwards like ragdolls, unable to move their limbs properly as the shockwave hit them. This time when he hit the ground, everything went black. 
  Regaining consciousness was not fun. His limbs felt heavy, his mind sluggish and all he could hear was this damn ringing noise that seemed to get louder and louder until his mind couldn’t take it anymore. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the harsh light of the hot sun. A giant mushroom cloud had formed over the sight of the crash, and all he could smell was ash and fire. If he looked closely enough, he could see pieces of the helicopter that appeared to be ablaze. 
  He somehow managed to drag himself into a kneeling position and slowly wiped some sweat off of his forehead, but when he pulled his hand back, instead of clear liquid, his hand was covered in smeared blood. He looked down at his body, ignoring the headache that exploded in his mind from that simple movement. 
  Bruises had already started to form on his arms and what little he could see from the tears of his military uniform. Then he was struck by a single, sudden thought:
  Shinoa.
  Immediately he shot up, and staggered from the pain that erupted in his head. His body shook and his legs threatened to buckle beneath him, but after a moment he held steady. He looked around, but didn’t see the girl anywhere near him. “SHINOA!”
  He couldn’t hear his shout. The ringing noise had gone away by now, but in its place was complete silence. He could feel blood trickling out of his ears and grimaced, hoping that his hearing wasn’t irreparably damaged, however unlikely it was. He stumbled forward, calling out Shinoa’s name over and over but didn’t receive a reply. Either she wasn’t able to hear either, or… or… he didn’t want to think about it. 
  Eventually, finally, he saw her. Shinoa’s tiny form was completely limp, but noticeable, in the sand. He ran over to her and collapsed next to her, lifting her upper body into his arms. There were noticeable cuts on her face and arms, and a giant bruise on her forehead, but other than that she didn’t seem any worse than Mika himself. Blood was trickling out of her ears as well. The only difference between them was that she was unconscious while he wasn’t. He shook her helplessly. “Shinoa. Shinoa. Shinoa!”
  She jolted and took a deep, rattling breath. Her eyes were wild and looked everywhere before finally settling on Mika. Her lips moved. Mika still couldn’t hear her, but he could see what she said. “Mika?”
  He nodded rapidly and pulled her closer, burying his face in her shoulder. She smelled like blood and sweat, and her hair was tickling his face, but at that moment he couldn’t care less. She was alive, that’s all that mattered. He pulled away when she placed a hand on his arm, looking down at her. At that moment he wasn’t quite sure how he felt. Love, fear, relief, anger, anguish, happiness… somehow it was all there. We survived. Was all he could think, then a darker thought hit him. But for how long? 
  They were in enemy territory, alone, no weapons on them with explosions raging around them. Their mission had failed, and now they were stuck here. He had no idea if his previous transmissions calling for help had gone through, because as the helicopter fell all he could hear was static. 
  Shinoa seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because her jaw was set and her eyes focusing on a spot left to Mika, looking pensive and worried. She looked back up at Mika and he gave her a small nod. I understand. 
  He let her go and she slowly sat up on her own. They stared at each other for a moment, before Shinoa grabbed him by the cheeks and pulled him into a hard kiss. So many emotions went through that simple touch of the lips. Love, relief… it was palpable, and by the time she pulled away he wanted to cry. 
  His hearing was starting to come back now, and even though the sounds of explosions were muffled, they were still there. “We have to go,” he said eventually. “Can you stand?” 
  Shinoa frowned, and nodded. Mika didn’t miss the wince as she did so. Shakily, she started to rise to her feet, only to collapse back down with a cry of pain. Mika cursed and quickly caught her, worry rushing through his body. She didn’t seem to notice as he gripped her tightly, her eyes were far-away and she looked dazed. “Shinoa? Hey, look at me,” he slapped her cheek gently, and she seemed to snap out of it. “Mika?” 
  “Yeah, okay, walking isn’t a good idea… here, let me…” he went to pick her up, but his weight could barely support him, much less holding an extra 39 kilograms, and the two of them went down again with groans of pain. 
  “A-Alright… we… we’ll just… we can…” he was at a loss. Neither of them could walk. They were both hurt. Help likely wasn’t coming, and Shinoa… Shinoa was already looking at him with a sort of sad acceptance. Acceptance of their fate. 
  “Talk to me?” She requested, eyes never leaving his. Distract me so I don’t have to think about anything other than you before we die, was left unsaid, but they were both thinking it in their heads. Mika stared at her for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Okay uh… what… what do you want to talk about?” 
  “… Us.”
  ___________________________________
  “Fight me!”
  “Would you stop telling everyone to fight you?” Mika rolled his eyes, sucking on his lollipop as they walked to school. 
  The purple haired gremlin next to him seemed to puff with indignation. “My height doesn’t affect my ability to snap your neck or gouge out your eyes!”
  At that the blond laughed loudly, scaring away some pigeons who’d been on the ground looking for breadcrumbs nearby. The old lady on the bench who’d been feeding them shot him a dirty look. “You can’t even reach my neck!”
  “Uhhh do you really wanna test me, Hyakuya? Because there’s a fuckton of step ladders at our school and I’m not afraid to get on one of those to punch your stupidly pretty face.” 
  That had Mika stopping, causing her to crash into him. “Pretty?” He rose an eyebrow. Shinoa froze for a moment, as though she hadn’t meant to say that, before laughing. “Alright yeah, you’re pretty. Everyone knows it.” 
  “What? I’m not.” 
  This time it was Shinoa who rolled her eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, you’re not pretty. You’re super manly and butch.” 
  Mika frowned at that, starting the walk back to school with Shinoa prancing beside him. Pretty? 
  She thinks I’m pretty?
  _____________________________________
  “Come on, Mika, you’ll enjoy it!”
  “I won’t. I really won’t. Yuu-chan, please don’t make me go to this stupid party.” 
  Yuu rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby, Mika. Besides, I want you to meet my… uh…” 
  “Aunt?”
  “She is NOT my aunt!” Yuu fumed, and Mika laughed. “I just want to prove to you how annoying she is,” Yuu continued in a whine, “come on, please?” 
  Mika sighed, but there was a small smile on his lips. “Alright Yuu-chan, anything for you.” 
  Yuu had to be exaggerating about how bad Shinoa was. Yuu was a drama queen after all, everything set him off and he was always coming up with wild stories when it was usually something simple. There was no way Shinoa was as bad as Yuu made her out to be. Right?
  … He was right. She wasn’t as bad as Yuu made her out to be. She was worse. The first thing that the drunken girl had done was fling herself onto Mika when he walked through the door. “I’ve decided that you will be my princess from now on,” she stated, not even saying hi. Even Yuu looked horrified. 
  “Ummm… but I’m a guy?” Maybe she thought he was a girl? It unfortunately wouldn’t be the first time someone made that mistake after all. However, Shinoa didn’t seem to care what he had to say, because she simply pet his fluffy hair like he was a cat, then his face. “Shhhhhhh. Princess.” 
  Mika gave Yuu a bewildered look, who - although still looking horrified - also was starting to look pretty amused. Mika narrowed his eyes at his best friend. Traitor. 
  “Well, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other~” Yuu said, before swiftly leaving to go mingle with the rest of the party. 
  “Yuu-chan wait –” 
  “Oh good he’s gone,” Shinoa removed herself from him, all traces of her former drunkenness gone. She beamed at his bewildered face. “Name’s Hiiragi Shinoa.” 
  “U-Uh… Hyakuya Mikaela.” 
  “Oh I know who you are, Mika,” Shinoa said. “Yuu talks about you all the time. And… the others.” 
  By the others, he assumed she meant the rest of the Hyakuya’s, who’d died when the orphanage burnt down. He tried to ignore the pang of sadness. “Does he?” 
  “Yuuup,” she popped the ‘p’. “I’m sure he talks about how absolutely stunning and perfect I am all the time~?”
  “Uh…” he thought back on all of the numerous rants and complaints Yuu had about her. “Something like that, yeah.”
  “So, Mika, want a drink?” She asked bluntly, and he scratched the back of his neck, debating. He’d never drank alcohol before, and Krul would skin him alive if she found out, but it might be the only way to deal with this party…
  “Sure.” 
  By the end of the night, Yuu found the two making out on the couch. 
  Mika would never forget the scream and the “Oh god my eyes!” that came from Yuu that night.
  ___________________________________________
  “Starbucks is amazing,” Shinoa moaned, drinking some more of the coffee she’d ordered. They’d just sat down in the newest addition to their town, when someone behind Shinoa caught Mika’s eye. “Look behind you,” he murmured. “But don’t be obvious.” 
  Shinoa, in typical Shinoa fashion, immediately WHIPPED around and practically shouted, “Where!?” 
  For fucks sake. 
  He’d been hoping not to attract the attention of Ferid, the person he was trying to warn Shinoa to stay away from. However, the silver-haired male - along with every other goddamn customer in the store INCLUDING THE BARISTAS - all turned to stare at them. Ferid’s face brightened upon seeing Mika, and the blond let his head fall onto the table. Just kill me now. 
“Mika-chan!”
Mika glared as the male came running over. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” the tall male said, looking positively ecstatic. 
  “You saw me,” Mika said bluntly. “Bye.” 
  “Eh? That’s not a very nice way to talk to your step-father…” 
  “You’re not my step-father.” Krul and Ferid had been divorced for almost two years now - thank God, Ferid was horrible to both of them - but in his mindset he seemed intent on it being “oh we just took a break, we’ll get back together soon” instead of “we’re totally done”. 
  “Ahaha so rude, Mika-chan~”
  “Don’t call me that.” 
  Shinoa was starting to look concerned. “Um…” 
  “Oho~ Does Mika-chan have a girlfriend?”
  “Okay, we’re going,” Mika said, getting off of his stool. Before he could grab Shinoa and leave, however, Ferid snatched his arm in a bruising grip that made Mika flinch out of instinct. “I’m not done talking to you,” Ferid growled, a complete 180 from his previous, happy demeanor. And then he wondered why Krul left him.
  “Hey!” They both turned around to see Shinoa standing. “The only person allowed to touch my boyfriend is me,” she said sweetly. Then, before either of them could even blink, she kicked Ferid so hard in the balls that he went tumbling to the ground. Mika stared at him, along with everyone else, mouth hanging open in shock as the older man groaned in pain. 
  Not seeming to notice, she stepped over him and laced her arm in Mika’s and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Now we can go.” 
  That was probably the moment Mika fell in love with her. 
____________________________________
  By the time they were done exchanging some of their memories, the two were laughing, for a moment forgetting about all of the death and destruction around them. Forgetting about how soon enough they would be the ones to die, if not by an enemy then by the heat, or dehydration, or hunger, or all three. Forgetting for a moment about how these might be their last goodbyes. How they will never be able to see their friends again.
  They forgot until they heard a helicopter. Until they looked up. Until they saw Yuu, Mitsuba, Yoichi and Kimizuki jumping out of it. Until they were being fussed over and carried into the helicopter, where Yoichi and Mitsuba immediately got to work with their med skills, patching the two fallen soldiers up. 
  They forgot that a few minutes ago, they had given up. 
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exuberantoctopus · 6 years
Text
Family
Hey so I wrote a thing! It’s a lightly Lupcretia University AU that I wrote as a sort of vent fic for myself. Lucretia comes out to her parents over the winter break. There’s a lot of hurt, a lot of comfort, and some pizza.
(ao3 link!)
•••
“Goddamn it! Fuck!”
Lup startled from her precarious reading position (upside down with her feet on the wall and her head off the bed, holding the book on the floor), and slipped off the bed with a loud thump!. She scrambled to her feet, rubbing her head with her hand, and came out of her dorm, heading towards the sound of the exclamation.
Pushing open the door to the stairwell, she saw her friend sitting at the top of the stairs, head in her hands. Scattered over the stairs below were papers, art supplies, and rumpled clothing. Sitting beside her was a large suitcase with a broken zipper and a stray sock hanging out of the gap. Lup could hear the girl’s laboured breath as she was on the verge of tears.
Gently, Lup sat down beside her, face filled with sympathy. “Lucretia?”
Lucretia jumped, then turned to see her visitor and wiped her face quickly with a sleeve. “Oh. Lup. Sorry, I must’ve… I just… it was…” she trailed off. She let out a long sigh, as if the very effort of getting those jumbled half-sentences out was an exhausting task. So very different from the normal, loquacious Lucretia Lup knew so well.
“Hey,” Lup soothed, putting an arm around her friend. “What’s up? Why are you back so early?”
Lucretia opened her mouth, but all that escaped her were a few fat tears. She croaked and hid back in her arms. Lup ran a hand over her back and shushed her soothingly.
“Hey hey hey… it’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re here. I’m here. How about you go over to my room and take a rest on my bed? I’ll get everything here cleaned up for you. You got your keys?”
It said everything that Lucretia didn’t protest. She merely unzipped a small pouch on her suitcase and handed Lup the keys to her dorm. She whispered a small “thank you” before hurrying out of the stairwell.
Left alone, Lup took full stock of the suitcase scenario. She decided to bring the suitcase to Lucretia’s room and then do her best to bring everything else back in a few armfuls. It took her a few minutes, but her worry for Lucretia was a heavier burden than any bunch of laundry. The clothes were first, followed by the papers (Lup made no effort to sort them. Lucretia was going to have a hell of a time with them when she was feeling better). Lastly, she gingerly picked up the scattered pens, pencils, paintbrushes, paints, and papers. She winced as she dropped the art supplies on Lucretia’s desk. There were a couple broken pencils and some brushes with their heads mangled. On top of that, there were a few watercolour pages that had managed to get dirt marks from the stairs on them.
Still, this could all be managed later.
Closing the door behind her, she sent a silent prayer to anyone listening that the cleaning staff wouldn’t notice the extra occupant in the building returned before their scheduled time. The last thing they needed was the bureaucratic nightmare that would introduce.
She opened the door to her own dorm slowly. Peering in, she saw Lucretia was not asleep, but curled into herself on Lup’s bed, staring at the wall with watery eyes. Cautiously, Lup sat down beside her, a gentle hand on her hip.
“Hey,” she tried.
“Hey,” Lucretia croaked.
“You feel like talking about it?”
“No.”
“You want to stay?”
“Yes please.”
“Okay. Scoot over, then.”
Lucretia shuffled closer to the wall and Lup squeezed in behind her, the two just barely squeezing onto the twin mattress. She threw an arm around her waist and spooned her, trying to exude as much love and comfort as she could muster. She could hear Lucretia start to cry again, and felt her arm clutched like a stuffed animal to the other girl’s chest.
She didn’t say anything, but let Lucretia cry herself out in a safe space. Lup occasionally made calming noises of sympathy, but didn’t speak. Eventually, she heard Lucretia’s tears stop and her breathing even to a rate that told her she was asleep. Wiggling a bit to get herself more comfortable, Lup let herself doze as well.
When she opened her eyes again, Lucretia was awake.
“How are you feeling?” Lup asked.
Lucretia pondered the question for a long minute. “Shitty,” she decided.
Lup couldn’t help but chuckle, and she felt a small laugh from Lucretia as well.
“Yeah that sounds reasonable,” said Lup. “You wanna talk about what’s going on now, or what?”
Lucretia didn’t respond.
“It’s totally chill if you’re not up to it-“
“No,” Lucretia cut her off. “No, it’s not that. I… I want to talk about it. It’s just…” She sighed and rolled onto her back, dislodging Lup, and the two took a minute to readjust. “So… I… I came out to my parents.”
Lup couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. She grabbed Lucretia’s hand and squeezed it encouragingly. “Hey! Good job! I’m so proud of you!” She pulled back and her smile melted into a grim expression. “I’m guessing they didn’t take it too well?”
Lucretia laughed harshly. “Yeah, you could say that. Apparently I’m not to return to the house until I’m their daughter again.” she scoffed. “Like I’ve changed.” She fell silent again for a while. “It is how it is, right?” she eventually said, and shrugged. “Guess that’s life now. Hey, you wanna help me look at a house for this summer?”
Lup frowned. “Whoa whoa there. Feels like you skipped over some bits.”
Lucretia shrugged again, though it was hard to keep a passive expression on her face.
“Look, Creesh, I get it.” Lup continued. “You think I can have Taako for a brother and not understand the avoidant shit? But that’s why I’m telling you that you can’t gloss over it. Don’t bury your emotions and hope they’ll go away. They won’t. Trust me. You’ll just end up with a fuckton of nightmares and emotional trauma.”
“I’m not burying anything!” Lucretia protested.
“Sure, sure. Not yet you’re not. But I know the signs. I know what you’re thinking. I know how this goes. You’ve gotta air that shit out with someone. Doesn’t have to be me, doesn’t have to be right now, but you gotta let it out.”
Lucretia huffed. “Okay, okay. I get it.” She rubbed her eyes tiredly. “You’ll want all the gory details, I suppose?”
“If you want,” Lup said. “Like I said, doesn’t have to be right now if you’re not feeling it.”
“No, I want to let it out. I want someone to know, at least.”
“Okie dokey artichokey.” Lup grimaced and Lucretia chuckled. “Ugh, never let me say that again.” She shuffled up to lean on her elbow and look down at her friend. “Anywho, you’re a writer. Spin me a tale, storymaster.”
Lucretia grinned, and Lup felt her soul lift just a bit. “Well, there once was a girl named Lucretia. She was not interested in men. No, she had her eyes fixed on women.”
“GAY!!” Lup interjected, and Lucretia whapped her arm lightly in admonishment.
“As I was saying, Lucretia knew in her heart that she could only be happy pursuing women. One day, she decided to break the news to her parents. They ought to know, she thought, as this was an important part of her being. It was tied to so many things in her life, and the pain she felt by not sharing it was beginning to weigh her down. Lucretia was a writer. A multi-faceted artist, really, but writing was what she knew would pay the bills.”
“Yeah yeah,” Lup teased lightly. “Can’t tell a story about yourself without mentioning the fact that you’ve basically conquered the fine arts as a whole. Please, go on.”
Lucretia paused for a moment, and got a sly glint in her eye. “Lucretia was vastly unappreciated by her peers. One in particular by the name of- OOF!” Lup hit her with a throw pillow and they both laughed. Lucretia continued. “So being a writer, Lucretia decided to write her confession in a letter. She gathered her parents and handed them the letter together. She sat patiently, watching their expressions anxiously.”
*
Lup noticed Lucretia’s skin begin to pale, and she struggled over her words a bit more. “They- her father. He… “ She swallowed the thickness in her throat. “As the girl’s father finished her letter, he grew redder and redder in the face. He snatched the letter from her mother’s hands and tore it into pieces. He started to scream about how she-“ There were tears in her eyes now and Lup grasped her hand tightly. “She wasn’t their daughter. She was filthy and wrong. She was making a choice to ruin herself and she was betraying them. The g-girl looked to her mother. Though she was trying to calm the father down, she still bore the s-same look of disapproval. It was her who told the girl to go pack.
“So the girl ran to her room. She could hear more yelling and slamming doors and cupboards downstairs and she- she was so sc-scared. When I got downstairs I saw that dad ripped down my pictures from the wall. There were holes in the drywall, he ripped them all out so hard.” Lucretia choked on her words and started again. “The girl- She- all she could think about was how angry her father was going to be with himself when he saw the state he’d put his house in. She sat on the stairs to put on her shoes. She saw him coming from the kitchen with a bird that she made in pottery class for her parents’ anniversary. Even when he grabbed her arm… he grabbed it so hard… even when he grabbed her and dragged her up she was more scared about what he was going to do to the bird than what he was going to do to her.
“When she got outside it was raining. She didn’t have a coat on and she only had one shoe on. The other was in her hand. She was yelling at her father to stop. Just… just please let me put on my shoes dad. Dad, please. My sock is getting wet.”
Lucretia couldn’t continue as her crying took over her speech. She covered her face with her hands and keened weakly as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Lup held her so tightly. She didn’t let go.
“He broke the bird, Lup.” she cried. “He threw it on the driveway and it broke. And I couldn’t get my shoe on. He took me to the end of the driveway and just… pushed me there. And my skirt was getting dirty and my mum wasn’t saying anything. She was just at the door. She should’ve… she shouldn’t have let him make me get my skirt dirty like that. And I got my shoe on and just… walked to the bus. And I… I got here.”
**
Lup pulled Lucretia to her chest and rested her chin on top of her tight curls. “Hey… it’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now, okay? You’re here. You’re my best friend and I love you. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. You’ve got so many people here, Creesh. There’s me and Taako, there’s Magnus, there’s Davenport… fuck, there are SO many people who love you. Who love all of you. And the shit your fucked-up parents did is never going to be okay, but you don’t need it to be. You’ve got a family, okay? We’re gonna look out for you. We’re not gonna let you go.”
Lucretia let out a long sigh and nodded against her. There were still tears flowing, but she had mostly gone quiet. Possibly fallen back asleep. Lup knew what it was to feel the emotional exhaustion of rejection. She’d always had Taako, though, to soothe that pain. She knew that she was going to do whatever she could to be that rock for Lucretia.
They laid there together until the sun was setting and their stomachs were both growling. Lup peeled herself away from Lucretia and sat up to get her phone.
“Hey, I’m gonna order us some bomb-ass pizza. How does that sound?”
Lucretia smiled weakly. “Sounds great. Where are you ordering from?”
Lup scoffed. “You say that like it’s a mystery. Koko owes me like a billion favours and their dorm’s kitchen has the better oven. You good for him to come over? If not, we can kick him right back out as soon as we get some of that good good ‘za, no issue.”  
Lucretia let out a small laugh. “Nah, I miss him too. Actually, do you… do you think you could ask him if Magnus wants to come over too? I just… I really don’t feel like being alone right now and I could really use one of Magnus’ hugs.”
“Fuck yeah, dude!” Lup smiled. “I’ll get the boys to scoot their tushes over here A-sap.” She dialled her brother. “Hey! Koko! You’re making me pizza and then you and Mags are coming for a cuddle sesh with me and Lucy!”
“Lucy’s back?” Taako replied. There was a short silence where he worked out that something was obviously off. “Cool cool,” he recovered. “See you gals in a tight forty-five!”
Lup hung up and turned to Lucretia. “Sounds like we have a pl-“
Lucretia cut her off as she leapt forward and captured Lup in a kiss. Lup sat frozen in shock for a moment, and then quickly gave a small reciprocation before pushing the other girl away gently.
“Creesh.”
Lucretia was starting to blush and tears were reappearing in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I-“
“Hey no, quit that.” Lup admonished. “No need to be sorry. I just don’t think now is a good time. This isn’t about anything, okay? I’m just making sure my best girl is in the right state of mind before she goes on grand kissing ventures.”
Lucretia wiped a tear from her eye and laughed a bit. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Now, that’s not to say we can’t continue this at a later date, mind you…” Lup went on with an overly flirtatious tone that made Lucretia laughed more earnestly.
There was a small slightly awkward silence, where Lucretia didn’t know where to look, and Lup didn’t know how to approach her.
“…you wanna watch some Netflix?” she settled on.
Lucretia nodded. “Sure.”
They resettled on the bed into a more comfortable tv-watching position and sat leaning against one another with their legs entangled as they laughed at cartoons for the next hour.
Mid-episode, there was a knock at the door.
“Hey doofus! It’s your better looking evil twin here with sustenance!”
Lup leapt from the bed and opened the door to see her brother and the enormous human puppy that was Magnus Burnsides. “Okay dingus you can be the better looking twin or the evil twin, but you don’t get to claim both. Especially seeing as I’m the better looking evil twin anyhow.”
Taako gawked, appalled.
A quick but heated argument later, the four were sat on the floor and bed of Lup’s tiny room and munching on roasted tomatoes and three types of cheese. Lucretia sat on the bed with Magnus and shuffled closer to lean against him. As was his nature, he lifted an arm and pulled her in for a comforting side-hug that she gladly snuggled into.
“So Lucy. The fuck is up?” asked Taako bluntly.
Lucretia took a big breath. “Long story short; my parents apparently don’t have a daughter now because the baby they birthed is into women.” She took a bite of pizza nonchalantly.
Taako took a large angry bite of his pizza. “Fuck them!” he spewed with a full mouth.
Lup shoved him. “Ew! Taako! Your mouth was empty! Why did you even do that?!”
Instead of an answer, he shoved move pizza into his mouth. “M’hangry.”
“Was that hungry, angry, or hangry?” Lucretia asked with a confused face.
Taako actually waited to clear his mouth before answering, with one finger daintily pointed up, “While all of those are accurate, I was in fact saying ‘hangry’.” He took another bite.
“Okay, fair.” said Lup, grabbing another slice for herself.
Magnus turned to look at Lucretia with tears welling in his eyes. “That’s awful, Lucretia! I’m so sorry! You know we love you, right? We love you so much.”
Lucretia laughed. “Yes, Magnus, I know. Thank you.” They hugged each other tighter.
“What’s your plan now?” Taako asked. He seemed to be slowing down after scarfing a piece and a half down in roughly a minute. “We’re absolutely down to help out however you need, B-T-dubs.”
“Absolutely,” confirmed Lup.
Lucretia looked lost for a moment. “I… I haven’t thought about it too much yet. I mean, I always thought it was possible. I never wanted… but I knew that they might… I have a few plans written up just in case. I’ve already paid for my second semester stuff, so that isn’t an issue. I won’t be getting any more money for extras, but I never relied on that anyway. I’ve got enough money saved up from the past couple summers to last me through this summer if I keep working. And I’ve already talked to a financial advisor about starting out student loans. …Might actually be easier now that I can just tell them that I have no additional financial support.”
As she talked herself through her current standing, Lucretia visibly lost some of the tension in her shoulders.
“I think,” she said, choking up. “I think I’m gonna be okay.” There were fresh tears in her eyes, the emotions coming back in a big swell. The anger and frustration and sadness along with the relief that she might just be alright.
“Of course you are,” said Magnus, pulling her in for a full bear hug. “And you’re not on your own either. You could even stay with us for the summer!”
“Fuck yeah!” said Lup and Taako simultaneously, making Lucretia laugh.
“Thank you,” she said for what felt like the millionth time. Still not enough.
“Pfft for what?” asked Taako. “Being decent human beings? It’s no big, Lucy. ‘Swat we do. Though I guess you’re not used to it, what with those fuckwits who disowned you.”
Lup slapped his arm at about 45% strength. Taako yelped and attempted to roll out of arms reach.
“Fucking OW, Lulu!!” he said, aiming a much lesser kick in the direction of her midsection.
Lup swatted the calf approaching her and Taako retreated. “Be sensitive, you dick!” She hurled her crust at his head, where it bounced off his forehead and onto the floor. He stuck out his tongue and raspberried at her.
Lucretia couldn’t help but smirk at their antics. “Lup! It’s okay. He’s right. I mean, I still… I’m not ready to think about them like that really, but objectively, he’s kinda right.”
“Uh, yeah he is,” Lup said. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to learn how to phrase shit!” She glared at her brother. Taako made a mocking face in return.
“Really though,” Lucretia interrupted. “Thank you. Thank you. I… I know that I could survive on my own, but I don’t know that I’d want to. You guys have been my everything for a while now, but now… Now you’re really my everything. And I’ll never stop being grateful for that.”
No one said anything in response, but Magnus continued his hugs, and Lup and Taako scrambled onto the tiny bed to join. They each had a leg hanging off the bed and it was anything but comfortable, but it was still the best hug.
“Hey Taako we finally got you to join a group hug!” exclaimed Magnus excitedly.
“OKAY TAAKO OUT!” Taako yelled, his hands flying up as he practically repelled himself away from the others. “Better appreciate that shit because that’s the last physical affection you’re gettin’ from this boy for the next millennia thank you very much!”
Lup, in response, went over and grabbed her brother in a too-tight squeeze.
“Lup, stoooooooop,” Taako groaned. Lup kissed his cheek and released him.
Lucretia realized her face was sore with smiling. She mused on how glad she was too have these people in her life. These ridiculous people whose antics could lift her from the darkest sadness to laughter so quickly. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. The pain, though temporarily soothed, would always remain in some part. But she could soften it with time and love. And as the four of them talked and joked and laughed into the night, as they pulled in Lucretia’s mattress from her room to make a second bed on the floor, as she fell asleep with the sound of three people who loved her breathing softly, she knew she was going to be fine. Better than that, she was going to thrive.
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