#this is sort of about my ptsd/flashbacks and sort of about my night terrors/nightmares | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-singlest-pringle · 2 years

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Sticks and Stones Can’t Break My Bones (But Words Will Always Hurt Me)

After Bakugou wakes up from a nightmare, he senses that the coming day will be shit.

It is.

Featuring: Bakugou having a lot of issues, Kirishima being the best best friend, and Midoriya being an idiot and saying stupid shit cause he’s mad.

(based off of a tiktok by eldian.cos)

Warnings: PTSD; panic attacks; flashbacks; mentions of kidnapping, torture, murder

Read it here on AO3!

He was with The League. He could feel Dabi’s hand on the back of his neck, sizzling the fragile skin with a burning touch. The scene morphed into the bar. He could feel the cuffs digging into his wrists as he struggled. How long had he been here? There were no windows, no sense of time. It felt like forever.

Then Toga was over him. Her eyes suggestive and smile nasty. She ran a knife down his chest, giggling when she drew blood. Over, and over, and over. She licked the knife and transformed into him.

“You can’t lie to me. Everything you think, everything you feel. I can taste it in your blood,”

“Shut up! You don’t know shit!”

“I know how you feel about that red-haired boy. Dabi said he could hear how much he was yelling to save you. I know how you feel about yourself. You hate yourself. You think you’re weak. A failure. A villain. All the more reason to join us!”

“I’ll never join your stupid band of goons. I’m gonna be the Number One Hero and crush you all!”

“Is that so? What if we had something you wanted?”

“What?”

“Would you join us to save him?” Toga yanked a chain and pulled a beaten body from the dark corner.

“Kirishima!”

“Bakugou… I’m sorry. I tried to save you. I swear I did!”

“Kirishima, I’ll get us out of here!”

“Poor baby. Do you really believe that?”

“Don’t touch him!”

“Okay. I won’t. But he will.”

Shigaraki stepped forward, Bakugou could see his sadistic smile that was hidden beneath the rotting hand.

“No… No! Don’t hurt him! Please…”

“Okay,” Shigaraki - as he laid his hand on Kirishima’s head. Bakugou screamed as he watched his best friend crumble away.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him!”

“I didn’t,” he laughed. “I killed him.”

“I’ll never fucking join your league!”

“I know. That’s why you’re going to die, too. Think of the headlines! ‘UA hero student kidnapped and killed by the League of Villains’. And from under the watch of Pro Heroes, too! My goal is to destroy hero society. And I’ll start with you.”

Shigaraki’s hand came closer and closer. Bakugou screamed for mercy up until he felt five fingers against his face…

Bakugou woke up in a cold sweat, half of a scream stuck in his throat and small explosions popping from his palms. He’ll never get used to the sheer terror he feels after nightmares, no matter how many times they happen. Which is nearly every night. He can sort of take the ones where it’s just him getting hurt. But the ones where Kirishima gets hurt always break him. He tries to breathe, but all he can do is hyperventilate. The only oxygen he gets is through the sobs that come in between.

He barely hears the sound of his door swinging open and feet bounding towards him.

“Bakugou?” A voice says softly. Bakugou looks up and sees pointed teeth and bright red hair, down from the lack of gel. Kirishima. He didn’t even know he stopped breathing until he throws himself into Kirishima’s arms and dissolves into sobs again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’re in the dorms. You’re safe,” the other boy reassures.

“They hurt you!”

“Look. Look at me, Bakugou,” a soft hand guides his face until he’s looking at Kirishima, his face showing pure concern. “I’m okay. We’re okay.” The red-haired boy takes his hand and places it on his chest. Bakugou can feel his heart beating under his fingers, the strong beats slowing down his own racing heart. Kirishima guides him to match his breathing until it finally slows, only occasional hiccups remaining. Wordlessly, Kirishima climbs into the bed next to him and lays down, pulling Bakugou down with him and wrapping his arms around him.

“We’re okay,” Kirishima says with finality, and Bakugou slowly drifts back to sleep.

When Bakugou wakes up, the first thing he notices is the pounding in his head, followed by the strong arms wrapped around him. He remembers last night and winces. Today’s going to suck.

When his nightmares are that bad, they seem to follow him throughout the day, coming in flashes. Already he feels stretched thin, ready to snap at any moment. He feels the bed shift from underneath him.

“Hey,” a tired voice calls from behind him.

“Hey,” Bakugou responds tiredly.

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

Kirishima tightens his arm around him and presses his face against his back. “I know today is going to be hard, so take it easy. Okay, bro?”

“Yeah.”

They get up slowly, both a little sore from having to share a twin-sized bed. Kirishima makes his way over to the dresser and pulls two uniforms out, tossing the larger one to Bakugou. They’ve become accustomed to Kirishima spending the night sometimes ever since Bakugou’s first nightmare at the dorms, so now they just keep some of Kirishima’s stuff in his room.

“You ready to go?” Kirishima asks.

“Yeah.” Bakugou turns his tired face into a scowl, which Kirishima frowns at, and they make their way towards the common room.

Just like he suspected, the day was absolute shit. His mind constantly flashing with visions of being with the League. All he could do was give in to his compulsions to get them out of his head. Seven knocks on his desk. Squeezing his eyes shut. Even resorting to hitting his head in the hallways when no one was looking. It was the most embarrassing, but also the most effective one.

It all came to a head during heroics with All Might. Today was a lecture, which meant being stuck in a classroom with the teacher in his line of sight the whole time and no explosions to let out his emotions. Every time he saw his teacher, he saw the way his body transform from muscular to skeletal because of him.

Bakugou kept his head down for most of the lecture, relying on his hearing for notes and only looking up at the board if he really needed to. Heroics was the last class and he could tell her was about to break. He needed to get out of there as soon as the bell rang.

When class finally ended, Bakugou was quick to pack up his stuff. The sudden increase in conversation from his classmates was grating to his ears. Deku’s muttering only added to his discomfort, which was slowly building to panic. The nerd had gone to Round Face’s desk to talk about the logistics of Hawk’s quirk and had of course dissolved into the annoying mumbles that would follow him into his dreams.

“Shut the hell up, Deku! I’m fucking tired of hearing you mumble!” He roared across the room.

“Hey, Bakugou! That was uncalled for!” a floating uniform scolded from in front of him. He rolled his eyes.

“And I don’t want to hear shit from you, Invisibitch. Fuck outta my way.” Bakugou could feel every cell in his body as if they were ready to explode. He stood up, chair scraping loudly as he made his way towards the door. He tried not to look at All Might on the way out.

“Kacchan! That wasn’t very nice of you.” The fucking nerd was following him. He could already feel the panic making its way through his body.

“Kacchan, what’s wrong?” Can’t he just leave him alone for once? He needed to get out right now.

“Shut up, nerd,” Bakugou spat as he angrily wiped the tears that were starting to form in his eyes.

“Kacchan, are you okay? Don’t ignore me!”

“Get the FUCK out of my way, Deku!” Bakugou grinds out with a harsh shove, sending Midoriya to the floor.

“You can’t do that, Kacchan! You can’t just shove people and take your anger out on them because you’re emotionally constipated!” Midoriya missed the way Bakugou winced at that statement.

“I don’t have time for an extra like you right now.” He couldn’t really think over the increasing sound of ringing in his ears.

“Hey! Why are you acting like this? I thought we were better now! I thought we were equals.”

“Hah! That’s rich,” he answered out of reflex. Everything started to feel off kilter.

“Stop being such an asshole! I’m tired of being your punching bag, and I won’t be anymore. I worked my ass off to get into UA! The least you could do is show me some respect! I’ve only ever been nice to you. I looked up to you my whole life! You were better than me… and I could never beat you in anything!”

“I AM better than you!” Bakugou sneered, trying to hold onto his shield of anger for as long as possible.

“Then why were you so easy to kidnap!”

Bakugou stopped in his tracks, clenching his eyes shut to try and fight off the thoughts that were screaming in his head. He didn’t even notice he stopped breathing.

“Kacchan… I didn’t mean- I’m-”

Then the dam broke. All the memories, the images, the feelings, came flooding back and he couldn’t stop them this time, no matter how many times he squeezed his eyes shut or hit his head.

He could feel his breath starting to pick up as he tugged at his hair.

A burning hand on the back of his neck pulling him through a portal…

Getting knocked unconscious by a blow to the head, only to wake up chained to a chair…

He’s surrounded by the League…

Join us…

JOIN US…

“Shut up. Shut up! SHUT. UP. Please…”

How long…

The mind games from Compress…

The torture from Toga…

The threats from Shigaraki…

Where are the heroes?

Are they even coming for him?

Did they think he joined the villains?

Did they forget about him?

Did they leave him behind?

Again, again, and again.

It felt like it would never stop.

Bakugou barely registers his knees hitting the floor. He gasps for air, sobbing harshly in between. His mind can’t help but think of the night before.

Midoriya woke up bright and early with a smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. He was excited for heroics with All Might. They were going to have a lecture on the quirks of the top five Pro Heroes. He couldn’t wait to learn more about Hawks, the youngest Number Two Pro Hero to date.

He made his way down to the kitchen to have breakfast with Iida and Uraraka, shooting the breeze with them over cereal. Midoriya waved brightly at Kirishima and Kacchan as they passed. The red-haired boy smiled brightly back, but Kacchan gave him a glare. He took a deep breath and smiled. No fighting today. Today will be a good day.

Midoriya’s upbeat mood followed him for the rest of the day. He spent his day surrounded by his friends, keeping a smile on his face. He noticed Kacchan’s persistent bad mood, but paid no mind to it. He didn’t want the bad emotions of someone else to bring down his own.

As predicted, heroics was amazing. All Might was able to get personal input from Hawks himself on his quirk (one of the benefits of being the former Number One). Midoriya had so much he wanted to talk about, unfortunately for Uraraka, but she was happy to talk when class ended, even if he did end up muttering again.

Midoriya’s muttering was interrupted with a yell from across the room.

“Shut the hell up, Deku! I’m fucking tired of hearing you mumble!”

Don’t let him bring you down. Not today.

“Hey, Bakugou! That was uncalled for!” Hagakure defended.

“And I don’t want to hear shit from you, Invisibitch. Fuck outta my way,” he sneered as he loudly shoved his chair back and started walking towards the door, keeping his eyes away from All Might.

Midoriya knew that Bakugou was an emotional person, as much as he knew that he hated it. He could see Bakugou’s face, red with anger and brows furrowed in a way that would leave wrinkles if he didn’t have his mother’s smooth skin. Midoriya knew something was wrong.

He got up to follow Bakugou. “Kacchan! That wasn’t very nice of you,” he called out. The blond ignored him and kept stalking away. “Kacchan, what’s wrong?”

“Shut up, nerd,” the angry boy finally responded. Midoriya missed the way his sleeve came up to his face to wipe away tears.

“Kacchan, are you okay? Don’t ignore me!” Midoriya huffed, running to catch up to Bakugou.

“Get the FUCK out of my way, Deku!” he responds with a harsh push, sending Midoriya to the ground, who looks up to see a face nearly matching the color of Kirishima’s hair. At this point, Midoriya was at his wits end with trying to help Bakugou. He mistakes the look of panic for anger, clouded by his own heightened emotions. Midoriya stands up, straightening his uniform before jogging to catch up again and give him a piece of his mind.

“You can’t do that, Kacchan! You can’t just shove people and take your anger out on them because you’re emotionally constipated!” Midoriya knew he should stop pushing, but his frustration was getting the best of him.

“I don’t have time for an extra like you right now.”

“Hey! Why are you acting like this? I thought we were better now! I thought we were equals.”

“Hah! That’s rich.”

Midoriya knew this was getting out of hand, but he couldn’t stop.“Stop being such an asshole! I’m tired of being your punching bag, and I won’t be anymore. I worked my ass off to get into UA! The least you could do is show me some respect! I’ve only ever been nice to you. I looked up to you my whole life! You were better than me… and I could never beat you in anything!”

“I AM better than you!”

He knew he should stop. “Then why were you so easy to kidnap!” Shit.

Why didn’t he stop?

Midoriya’s own words left himself speechless.

“Kacchan… I didn’t mean- I’m-” Midoriya’s apology was interrupted by a choked sob. He could see Bakugou’s shoulders shaking as his hand held tightly to his hair. His other fist came up to hit his head.

“Shut up. Shut up! SHUT. UP. Please…”

Midoriya knew he wasn’t talking to him. I really messed up. He turned around and started running back to the classroom to get a teacher, running faster when he heard knees hit the floor.

“All Might! I tried talking to Kacchan because he was being mean. He shoved me to the ground and we started fighting. I just got so angry and I said… I said something I shouldn’t have ever said. I messed up really bad. I’m sorry!” Midoriya was practically sobbing by the end of his ramble.

“Where is he?” All Might asks.

“He’s in the hallway.”

All Might nodded and got up to leave the classroom, but was stopped by a hardened arm.

“I don’t think you should see him right now. You might make things worse,” Kirishima says in a low tone. All Might could see in his face that he was the only one who truly knew what to do. The teacher nods at him to go.

Kirishima ran out of the room. It didn’t take long to find Bakugou, who was surrounded by whispering students that had been passing after he had backed himself into a corner. By now, his sobs were more like wails, broken up by the occasional cough from the lack of oxygen.

“Give him some space!” Kirishima demands. When they make no move, he tries again. “Fucking leave!” he yells at the crowd. That gets people to start moving.

He kneels in front of his best friend, trying to come up with what to do. Bakugou hadn’t had a meltdown this bad in a while, especially at school. Kirishima places a hand on his shoulder, to which the other boy screams at. He’s in a flashback.

“Katsuki. Follow my voice. You’re not with the League. You’re in UA. You’re safe,” Kirishima reassures in the softest voice possible. Bakugou doesn’t show any sign that he hears him. Tears form in Kirishima’s own eyes at the sight of his best friend in pain. “Katsuki. It’s Kirishima. I’m with you, okay? You’re not with them.” He continues these words until Bakugou eventually looks up with a flash of recognition.

“Kirishima?” he says weakly.

“Yeah,” Kirishima laughs wetly. “Yeah, it’s me.” He makes a decision to try and place a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder again. He knew he made the right one when the other boy melts into his touch. Kirishima pulls Bakugou into a tight embrace, knowing that the pressure helps ground him. He moves so that he’s sitting behind Bakugou, keeping his arms wrapped around him. Kirishima runs a hand through soft blond hair, whispering ‘you’re okay’ into his ear until they can both start to believe it. They stay like that, on the floor of the hallway until the sobs turn to sniffles and his breathing evens out. “You wanna go back to the dorms?”

Bakugou nods. He scoots forward, arms wrapping around himself, so that Kirishima can stand. He takes the hand that is reaching out and lets himself be pulled up. He tries to make himself as small as possible, only finding comfort in the arm Kirishima placed across his back, both to steady him and to keep him present as the two of them make the slow trip back to Heights Alliance. Bakugou realizes he didn’t end up staying present when suddenly he’s in Kirishima’s dorm. He just lets himself be pulled into the Crimson Riot clad bed, familiar hands removing his shoes and his uniform. The bed dips when Kirishima joins him and he falls asleep surrounded by soft blankets and strong arms.

Kirishima pulls out his phone when he gets a notification.

Private Message Between Midoriya Izuku and Kirishima Eijirou

midobro: I’m sorry

He sighs before typing out a response

red riot: I know.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #Bakugou Katsuki #Kirishima Eijirou #kiribaku #krbk #Midoriya Izuku #mha fic #fanfiction #mha fanfiction

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 3 years

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Talking to the moon

The rumors and trauma lived inside his head in fact it ate him alive. Each and everyday lifeless and a black cloud hung over his head. Except when he received and a test message from an unknown number. He knew it was unknown for three reasons. 1) Everyone knew to not text him or disturb him unless he contacted them first. 2) He could recite his entire list of contacts over anything else in his life. And the third was that he didn’t know that this unknown message would change him forever.

Word count: 15,000 *im so sorryyyy*

This is another dreaded Bucky Barnes x reader fic.

Viewers beware you are in for a scare with the: fluff, Bucky is a wanna be alcoholic, blood, angst, cheesy tropes *wrong number,etc*, bad jokes, one liners, awkwardness, sexual innuendos, mentioned sexual harassment, suicidal thoughts, depression, murder, slight dark Bucky who’s just trying to get through life, Sam Wilson mentioned, astrology and planets, knifes, ptsd, nightmares and terrors, flashbacks, sad bitch Bucky missing Steven and using the reader as a better therapist then the certified one, she/her pronouns used for the reader, mostly from Buckys POV, she/you referring to the reader JOHN WALKER SLANDER NO HATE TO THE ACTOR, glass.

(This is dedicated to my friend, tiny adjustments to buckys story and I am dearly sorry if I didn’t write bucky true to his character!)

He choked awake on the air that never left his cold lungs, meanwhile, his skin was afire. A coat of sweat coated him, he slept shirtless since this occurred so often. Always waking in the depth of night to little to no light, only the low gleam of the moon shone through his window near his kitchen along with the soft luminosity of the television sat in front of the sofa. One that he refused to sleep on. He couldn't even sleep on the soft bed tucked in the back corner of the room down the hall in his apartment. He debated why he just wouldn't move into a studio apartment instead of the one he resides in.

He huffed staggeringly and his eyes falling to the ground, searching for something that was never there. Tranquility. His brain trying to calm itself in some form, it never worked it took hours for it to. Even then it never lasted. He suffers another day's trauma trying to sort the world back into order. Sam would often notice but knew to never ask him about it. He knew from the months working together asking and attempting to comfort Bucky often led to arguments. Bucky strongly knew this was nothing and that others were just blowing it out of proportion.

That also led to bias work and Bucky not doing his best, since Sam put him in a bad mood beforehand. Bucky went to therapy. He was more forced than offered, the government felt he was more of a ticking bomb than anything else. Bucky thought of it as more of a joke than anything.

There was no sense in for him to go to the sessions. He often found himself trying to find excuses to skip sessions. He thought that the past is the past and trying to fix it wasn't a possibility. Bucky dealt with it the way he could. He pushed it deep, deep, down in the roaring sea of his mind and dealt with it later. Only in his dreams did it resurface to haunt him. Always making him uptight and tired from the lack of sleep.

However, at this point, he was use to the torture of it all. His brain is his worst enemy. Through shaky breath fanned on his arm, he was crouched over his left leg up his metal arm resting over his knee his other arm holding his weight. He watched the glow of the tv, his chest heaved in exasperation.

Nothing piqued his interest in broadcasting. It was all the same mumbo jumbo of stereotypical things like romance, the reality that was depicting the species as inhumane, the comedy he didn't understand, only one channel did hold his interest.

Perhaps it worsened his mental state but he didn't care and it was the news. It was all the current disasters of the world and the avengers trying to stabilize the circumstances and the best part of it all how disturbing the world is. Even if his bringing was normal to where he is now, he'd most likely be a deeply tormented individual.

He nearly had heart failure when a banner at the bottom of the screen read "John Walker elected as the new Captain America." In blinding letters. Above the banner was John Walker himself standing in front of the podium a hand raised in a gesture to recognize the audience's howl.

Buckys head burst with memories of Hydra and the way it evoked him. The way of how Hydra forced him to be something he wasn't. John Walker was the perfect example of an alternate reality with a substitute Steve. Everything Steve was for John Walker was against.

Images flashed in his head. He put his hands on his head his natural one warm and clammy, in contrast to the bitter cold one. It just gave his flashbacks even more fuel. Living with a constant reminder of who he is. A monster.

He grabbed tightly onto his hair the strands were being plucked as this was being written. He felt small patches of balding from this happening so regularly. His legs parted and creased by the knees. His face strained into pain. His extensive wrinkles from age, noticeable, and worsened from him doing so.

His blanket thrown away to the side with disregard, he started to rock softly front and back. The wood floor burned his tailbone from him sitting on it for so long. Suddenly he felt a different pain. A killer one.

The beige cabinets thrown open papers and documents scattered everywhere. The dark grey of a ceiling of the shelter peered over him judgingly. His arm pushed down into the metal of the chair burned from the uncomfortable position. The bolts leaving deep indentions in his skin. The helmet pressed tightly to his skull leaving him render less against the horror of hearing the words. So many times he had to go through this routine, the monitors loud and buzzing. He bit down strenuously onto the guard in his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. The electricity drumming into his head, his brain setting fire to its system, he feels it in his muscles, in his blood, the veins that pop in his neck. The tubes behind his head generated and pumped large amounts which umped higher and higher in velocity each time an activation word was spoken loud and clearly. Spat carelessly not in his mother's tongue, he would never think of the language to be beautiful only to be a monstrosity of the world one of the greatest. His dull fingernails dug into the chair it did nothing other than to give him some sort of balance. He screamed but it was muffled to an extent of the guard doing its purpose. "Daybreak."

The announcer spoke into the fuzzy black microphone that's the only word he made out to hear. The daily news report drone on for what of which he came back into reality.

He opened his azure eyes and looked to the left the window that sat in the middle of a pale white wall and his kitchen showed the red bloom of the sun and the tall buildings of the city.

He felt resentful towards the time of day since his flashbacks usually only lasted a minute or so.

Lately, they've grown in duration and that stroke dread into him. He was horrified that someone would say or do an act that would put him in a state of mind. One that he wished to not be in.

Somedays he just yearned to be left for dead in the snowfall of the forest. Notably, so far from the arm that was taken from him that it would be hidden to the world for eons. And from the pessimism of the clouds above him.

He grew irritably hot and damp from the excessive sweat he did to himself, he felt everything was his fault, enlisting, going on the train, helping Steve.

He hated himself for a moment realizing what he thought, he felt selfish for thinking that Steve did this to punish him. He sighed and laid his head tilted to the plastered ceiling.

His neck outstretched. His legs and his arm, limp from the compression of him tensing them for so long. His muscles trying their hardest to relax. His figure seeming to be the equivalent of a sack of potatoes.

He didn't care about how he presented, perhaps it was his past with being a soldier the constant thriving to be the strongest and the son of Hercules. He pushed so far that his body couldn't endure the strength he put it through.

Super soldier serum and all, he was still just a man. He was still human deep into the last atom of his DNA. His eyes nonchalantly examined his ceiling a soft pale white like the rest of his apartment, it reminded him of the moon outside.

If he were to take out his ceiling it'd be right above him. He was enamored by how it seemed to have an ever-lasting glow. He let out a shaky huff then fell ever quiet. Until the day grew old.

Yori had scheduled a lunch meeting earlier that week, they had a routine. Yori attended and Bucky paid. This happened every Wednesday they would meet up and discuss whatever they wished. Yori was just an old decaying man who lived in Chinatown, he lived across from Bucky's building. Yori was kind to the ones he knew.

It was otherwise to people he didn't. After Yori's son died it was hard to, if he only knew who Bucky was entirely he'd die out of shock. Bucky swore to tell him but honestly, Yori was his only friend he had out of work, and even that he couldn't let himself go and confide in Sam.

So here he was in a plain-back leather jacket, some jeans and the same pair of boots he had since the war. He didn't understand the fashion trends of late. Last week he and Yori saw a woman in a bright suit, it looked like a second skin from how tight it was.

Yori was simple-minded as he was and had similar morals and interests. It was disheartening to say that Bucky had a sort of envy for Yori, Bucky wished to have lived a normal life of maybe dying in the war or growing old and gray like Yori.

Get married, have a couple of kids, live a normal life. He understood greatly why Steve went back but he never fully forgave him for it. He felt like Steve was selfish for doing so, but isn't everyone? Steve got a normal life while Bucky had to rot in the world alone and was terrorized by his brain.

He crossed his arms, the leather making a strange sound since he gripped himself so tightly. He sat up straight, his shoulders back, his face set with a profound scowl. It forever imprinted on his face the dark scruff of a new beard growing in.

He hated how it meant uncleanliness, but he didn't have the motivation to shave it off, there wasn't a reason to anyway. He hadn't been on a date in years, centuries even.

He poked and played with his sushi that Yori said was great to try at least once. Bucky felt bad and tried a bite, he had to give credit for a thing so small having to be so spicy. That was about the first and last bite Bucky had. Since then he just jabbed at it with one of the sticks.

The other laid across the small complimentary plate with the rest of the remains of the sushi he failed to eat, he lost his appetite a few weeks ago.

He's been nursing a strong drink called Shōchū. Every time Bucky ordered it Yori said that he put an accent on it and that it made him sound like a foreigner. Although Bucky didn't know how since he was fluent but that was an argument for another day.

The employees there grew to know that they should just leave the bottle there since he usually drinks half their supply on each visit.

He just simply didn't think eating was something he needed. Recently things just seemed to bore him to the point where things that he needed to do he couldn't.

All because his brain tells him this doesn't matter. He's just lived so long from numerous life-ending things and he'd be damned if he'd kick the bucket from starvation.

"That scowl of yours is going to scare the women away," Yori spoke, breaking Bucky out of his trance. Bucky only saw the select few people around them and the women that Yori was referring to were a few older women with smiles and when Bucky turned to look they suggestively waved their fingers.

When Bucky looked back Yori smiled and waved and went back to inhaling noodles. Bucky looked at the man across from him in the small sushi restaurant he grew to know too well, they always sat in the same place a small table near the front of the glass doors.

Some posters and decorations were scattered throughout the small building. The dim lanterns gleam radiantly against the cryptic night. It rained before and the droplets of rain still reside on the windows behind Yori.

Yori slurped pounds of noodles into his mouth at a time, the residue of it was left behind on Yori's pale-white mustache. Bucky was surprised that the stick didn't break from the weight of it. Bucky's eyebrows furrowed together in thought, his posture relaxing.

He laughed inside his shoulders coming up and the side of his lips curved in a smirk. The demeanor he held was appealing from afar, (specifically to the cougars adjacent from where they were.)The conversation always breaking Bucky's previous mood, Yori was very light-hearted when he wasn't in a mood. Especially when he had food and good company. He decided to further it:

"What do you know about the ladies here that I don't?" Yori swallowed a big round lump in his throat slowly going down to his stomach, he must've had a pile of noodles in it by now.

"Well first off all, don't test my ways of making them swoon over me," Yori stated it more of a threat than a declaration. He used his chopsticks and pointed them at Bucky and a warning manner.

His eyebrows perked up and the wrinkles on his forehead worsened similar to the ones that grew on Bucky. His eyes became wide at the thought of being disrespected like the way Bucky just did.

"Second of all, you don't understand how to look without your eyes." And with that Yori chowed down once again on his bucket of noodles. Bucky couldn't perceive Yori's advice, what does seeing without your eyes even could mean?

His smirk faltered into his normal resting face which Yori liked to remark and say was the equivalent to people putting the trash into his garbage can. There was no rhyme or reason for people to do so but they just did.

Just like the way Bucky was always in a sour mood it reminded him of himself always being angry at the world because of other people.

"Have you been seeing anyone lately, if not that might be the cause of your problems," Yori spoke as if he knew everything about Bucky and maybe he could Truth it since Hydra and after being the winter soldier and Steve passing.

Bucky hadn't really been ready to mingle. He just knew he had too much baggage for a partner to put on deal with him. Every now and then when he felt completely alone he downloaded some dating app he didn't actually want and deleted it on the same night.

He had flings here and there and since he met Yori he had been setting him up on dates whether Bucky liked it or not. None of them worked out since Bucky didn't try; he was too wrapped up in his own problems to be listening to hers.

Bucky's gloved metal hand wrapped behind his neck and scratched his stubble coming back down.

"You know Yori surprisingly enough I haven't," Bucky spoke grimly and clutched his teeth. He knew Yori was going to tell him off. He winced when he heard Yori's chopsticks fall into the cup of noodles. Yori sat back into his wooden chair, his arms crossed and a displeased look came across his face.

"And why is that?" Bucky began to open his mouth "Don't give me some excuse that you always give me or this will be our last meeting." Yori stated in a harsh manner with his face twisted in that fatherly manner. "I don't understand why it's a great value to you, to know about my love life,"

Bucky spoke of it as a statement but it came out more as a question. Yori quieted and thought for a moment thinking of the proper words to say. "The stars are aligned in your favor, in which that means you should try and put effort into those small details in what is grief, if not love persevering."

Bucky sat there thinking over the things Yori told him. Bucky stretched his arm out to sip on the Shōchū. He was about a quarter way through. They'd only been there for two hours.

Since Yori met Bucky he learned that people can't always be that bad. Unless of course, you're the type who knocks over his trash can and the men don't pick it up and so it rots to hell when he fills it.

Bucky sighed and reached for the half-full glass of Shōchū. Yori never favored seeing him drink. It was too similar to him drinking when his son passed.

So Yori being Yori he made a little catapult with his chopsticks and put a small piece of noodle into his device and flicked it at Bucky. Bucky glared at him and touched the spot where it hit. Right in the middle of his creased eyebrows. The residue of the noodle followed his fingers Yori went back to eating but before he did so he gave a word to Bucky

"You're not supposed to think about how to see without your eyes. It defeats the purpose entirely if you think about it as strongly as you do, I may have some years under my belt of practicing but you are going to go nowhere soon with the troubles that live in your scowl."

He paused searching into Bucky's storm-driven eyes, Yori saw nothing that lived behind them other than sorrow. It pained Yori to see his friend in such a state.

Yori rested his hands on the table interlaced in front of him, trying to find anything worth reviving if it wasn't already killed behind Bucky's aurora. But then all of a sudden a glimmer, a spark you could say flitted inside the fellow in front of him.

Yori leaned back in his chair and smiled softly, his eyes creasing. "Ah, there it is," Yori spoke softly. Bucky confused more than he had ever been in his life questioned everything.

He had no idea what Yori was doing or as to why he endured the unwanted staring contest they just had. Then his answers were spoken by the one who created the questions.

"The way you see without your eyes is simply to be at peace with yourself, look at the moon and the stars.

They have no troubles or worries and they are the most looked at things in the entire universe no matter where you are. They see everything, yet they still choose to have no regard for the ones that judge them. For you young sir, for them to have that happiness you take that amount doubled."

Bucky scoffed that he didn't intend to be disrespectful, but how in the world was he supposed to be calm when he knew Yori's speech was literal. Yori never made jokes or metaphors, he learned that the hard way.

He uncrossed his arms for the first time since they sat down, and rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward in the wooden chair. He squinted his eyes, questioning Yori's statement.

He knew Yori hated to be questioned and tested, they always led to night and day-long arguments that never fully were resolved. Maybe it was the half bottle of Shōchū he drank that made him confident. He spoke rough and dry from it taking over his throat and liver.

"So let me get this straight. the only way I can find peace and happiness is if I talk to the stars and the moon? Yori, you've got to be joking." Yori grew agitated but his composure remained ever the slightest of relaxation.

Yori reached towards the back of his pants to retrieve something while glaring at Bucky and the staring contest resumed. Bucky thought for a moment that Yori was going to shoot him in point-blank range in front of the small company that was set at different tables all over the place.

Instead, Yori pulled out a small crumbling paperback book with the cover filled with stars and galaxy-type depictions and inscribed above it was

"Talking to the moon, and other astronomic casualties"

Yori sat the book gently on the side of the table he got up and before he left he looked at Bucky for a long while before turning and walking out the door. Not another word was spoken between them until the next Wednesday.

Bucky walked home that night by himself. Usually, he would walk with Yori but what happened at the sushi place he felt disturbed by. He lost his temper and he never should've.

He's been put in worse situations than thinking that Yori made him out to be a fool for believing that the stars could talk. Who knows if they do. He should've been more open-minded, he's just been riled up from the flashbacks.

Shōchū seemed to make things worse but he'd forget about things for a while. He wanted to apologize to Yori;

he severely drowned the urge. With the rest of the bottle. Yes, the restaurant let him take the rest. He had to pay handsomely. He thought it was worth it until he had to walk up the stairs to get into his apartment. He swayed back and forth mostly to the left. The arm weighed more when he was like this.

He had not a thought in mind about the world other than seeing the bottom of the clear bottle made of glass.

He tried to walk up the stairs he really did but his chunky boots made it hard to judge the height of the stairs. He got about halfway up them and then he fell. He smashed his chin against the wood and his chin started to bleed. He didn't try to stop the fall.

His right hand was occupied with the bottle. His thick scarred fingers tied around the neck of it securely. He'd kill anything that would try to take it away from him. He pushed himself up off the stair and he winced in pain when his right hand was now in the pile of glass. It fell and broke when he did.

His back burned with being indented from laying on the stairs. His chin seeped down onto the pit of his neck where his jaw formed.

He pushed slowly up off the stairs entirely putting his damaged hand behind his back. How ironic that his normal flesh is the damaged one.

He lifted off with the metal one. He clutched his wrist and pinched it tightly with the metal one.

Trying to cut off blood flow so it won't get more infected than it already had. He walked to his apartment shamefully. His head hung down low, too insecure and awkward about what happened. His jaw stern and gritted he was embarrassed.

The alcohol dimmed it but it was still a major event. He'd hit the rock bottom of an endless pit.

He dug out his key in his pocket and went inside. When he entered he always felt worse than he had left. Yet he never had a problem leaving. It always felt like he was welcomed back into a deep aurora of depression.

He stepped on the back of his boots and left them by the door. He walked to the bathroom but he stopped and turned to look at the tv. There he was again in all his glory. John Walker.

Although this time in his clutches was Steve's shield. He grew saddened by the fact Sam gave it over. He felt betrayed. Sam was the only one he knew other than him how valuable that was and John Walker out of all people had it in his possession.

He'd have a long discussion with Sam in the near future about this. He was always infuriated by John but now he couldn't put it into words. Except for the word imposterous.

Bucky felt a sharp pain in his wrist and when he looked down. He soon found that he was nearly fracturing his wrist with his metal modeled fingers. He also took into mind how deep the glass shard was. Some tiny, some huge. He cursed under his breath a soft and crude

"Fuck."

He quickly loosened his grip and shook his head in regret when he looked down to his wood floor. He realized that blood trickled from him since he opened the door.

He hastily shuffled awkwardly to the bathroom trying his hardest to not make more of a mess than he already had. He walked with long strides and his white socks dirtied from blood.

The bathroom was small, with half tiled walls and a tiled floor, beige paint covered the rest of the wall. A shower shoved to the left of him, an off-white bulb accentuated the room.

He swore to change it but he never did. A mirror and sink in front of him, the mirror was a small white rectangular one, matching the shape of the sink. Sandwiched in between the shower and sink was the smallest white toilet imaginable.

He hated going into the bathroom for this reason alone. He saw how weak he was in the mirror.

A busted bleeding wound. That crept close to the imprint that marked the middle of his chin, dark drunk eyes, shaded pink lips, sharp cheekbones accompanied with a keen jawline, scars littered across his body. His face had a few abrasions, and cheeks hidden in the scruff that continued to grow.

His hair tousled and strewn every way it pleased. He never cared about it; he never tried to style it since he'd just put his hands in it. His shoulders were clad in leather and a beige henley that matched the walls. The calmness after getting pounded reminded him of when hydra made him fight the other soldiers. Then suddenly he was there.

It was a day that Bucky would think about for the rest of his life. Bucky had a lot of those days but this one, in particular, was one that made him feel excruciating pain. The fight he was trained to lose. The compound was a dimly lit walkway in between the cells. Two would fight momentarily continuously one was declared the winner and fight the champion. Bucky or the soldier.

The commanders of hydra love to evoke fear. Seeing the men riddled with fear. Some vomit, others beg. Some are like Bucky. Ruthless. They don't care who they are or what they want to be. All they strive to be or do is fight and the blood splatter after winning against the enemy, releases stress so sometimes it's a release unless you have a guilty conscience. For Bucky, it's the latter. He has nightmares, sure, but everyone does.

Bucky had perfect posture, his head tilted into the way hydra trained him to do or to be brainwashed until he was complicit. Bright ocean eyes were unknowingly dead. The thunder of the other candidates to fight by the cells on the sidelines until it was their time to fight.

Although before they went to fight they would have a fistfight with Bucky to higher their combat skills. Bucky was the best soldier they had to let them practice on. That being said Bucky wasn't being used to his full potential. Bucky hadn't fought anyone to his skill level, everyone was either at a lower or average level. They were put into groups of two in fighting whoever won would fight either Bucky or another soldier even crueler than Bucky. Bucky had some remorse and would hold back. He still deep down was a person but the other soldier killed many from going too far. And today was the day that Bucky had to fight that soldier. Bucky had three other men for the soldier to fight until it was him, all skinny and small, scrappy.

The soldier was big and unruly. He was undefeated, sure Bucky was scared but at the compound, it's kill or be killed.

No one knew the soldier's true name, just the series of numbers he was given. His confidence may be the death of him. Bucky believed-knew that he was more than the average man. He had courage, a heart of gold, and the endurance of a bull and here he was amping himself up and nervously fidgeting wondering what would happen if he won this fight. He wondered if everyone would think of him as superior or if he'd be more of a black sheep.

He heard a crack of a hydra man yelling to start. The man in front of him was next and the one that lost had gashes to the bone and blood oozing out of places where he didn't know could.

Bucky felt exposed when the man in front of him went to fight, there was still a very long list behind him to fight but he was next up. The soldier looked at him, his demeanor felt like the grim reaper and Bucky was fixing to pay his toll.

The soldier had muscles upon muscles and as broad as one can ever be. The word powerful couldn't even describe him in the lightest.

Bucky chewed on the inside his cheek he was nervous.

The soldier was known to put the others in the infirmary for days on end and those he hurt abnormally bad gotta not fight for a while and rot in their cell until. More often than none they'd put you back out in the field.

The stories of this soldier were the type you'd tell sitting at a campfire to scare kids, instead, it was grown, men. Even if Bucky was the bravest out there he wasn't like the soldier.

Bucky observed all of his techniques and styles over the weeks. Preparing himself for his scheduled fight. It was an algorithm for the soldier to react to specific hits and counter them with the same thing over and over. The hydra men taught all of the soldiers the same moves except the one Bucky was going to go against. They knew Bucky was their best soldier so they had to at least put him in a good fight. Bucky caught on to this pattern and that made him think that he could win.

The man in front of him laid in a fetal position with mud and red splatter across his pale form, the boisterous crowd making the shame feel unbearable.

Then all of a sudden Bucky felt a harsh shove on his back. One of the hydra men shoving him into the pit with the soldier. Bucky nearly fell face forward on the cement. A burst of loud booming laughter deafened him more than the crowd on the sidelines.

The soldier crouched low and Bucky knew what he was going to do. He took out the legs then beat his component to a pulp like a gorilla. Bucky did the same stance. He looked foolish, his hair stuck to his forehead, sweat-soaked his clothes which were already tightened to his skin from the excessive working out he did. Courtesy of Hydra wanting him to be in top shape. The other soldiers grew restless as they psyched one out. They went into circles staring at one other like vultures testing who was the quickest. Whoever blinks first wouldn't blink for weeks after.

A screech came from the soldier and he came after Bucky.

Now imagine a vicious lion combined with a cyclops coming at you. Bucky psyched him out and pivoted. That just angered him more since the battles never lasted more than a couple of minutes. This one was already the longest. The soldier turned slightly and looked over his shoulder and before he could do so Bucky had gotten close enough to kick the left of his knee in and he fell. It was as loud as the thunder when he did.

Although Bucky wasn't watching his feet and the soldier took his left foot and grabbed Bucky. He fell. The roar of the other soldiers boomed. His ears went out painfully, a ringing sound, and the rain flew harshly against his face.

He couldn't move, the wind knocked out of him that he couldn't breathe. He felt ashamed to have even thought that he could win. The black ceiling littered with golden beams.

The gold reminded him of the stars behind them, how someday he could be out of this dungeon to see them again. Abruptly all the ringing in his ears came back. He heard a low hum of breathing; he thought it was his own until he saw the beast above him. The soldier grabbed his arms and Bucky struggled even through his stupor. Bucky wiggled and tried to get out from his grasp but he was a god amongst men. Bucky then thought of how Steve felt when he'd get cornered in an alley and he'd come and save Steve from being killed. But Bucky didn't get saved. The barbarian struck Bucky over and over. The nurse would later tell him that she was surprised that he didn't have any brain damage. Bucky waved in and out of reality. Every time he tried to open his eyes it'd be welcomed with a fist. Bucky spat the blood out of his mouth onto the soldier. The soldier was just too strong. He was impossible to win against. The soldier rubbed the blood into his face and laughed. He leaned to Bucky's ear only so he could hear "puny."

Bucky screamed loud. Loud enough that the neighbors awoke from their sleep and he'd sure have a lot of complaints to address in the morning. In a split second, he found himself with his fist through the mirror, the glass falling every way onto the tile into the sink and toilet. Into the already damaged hand of his, the glass poked through his palm, and through the other side, the previous glass dug deeper into his flesh.

Severing the tendons. All he could think about was the pain of having to clean everything up. He didn't feel the pain he caused himself because that didn't matter. It made him feel the least bit human. Pain. Everything living thing felt alive and once he lost that. He'd feel like a complete and utter monstrosity.

He looked up from his hand and to the mirror. Shards still hung and it displayed a perfect depiction of what Bucky was. Damaged.

Bucky spent the rest of the night with a bandaged chin that kept bleeding like a waterfall. Hw picking out pieces of glass with the smallest tweezers known to man, that too ruby red water ran down the sides of his hand onto his bare beefy thighs and pooled in the middle of his palm.

He had calmed down after a couple of hours by sitting on the bumped-out window.

He often likes sitting there and watching the city. The cars zooming past the bright casinos.

The one thing he enjoyed the most was watching the constellations and making them out to be the things he liked. Often he'd see a star in the moon and he saw the shield.

He hated that one since it put him in the pain of remembering Steve and how he had no one.

He didn't need anyone. That's what he told himself but he was very wrong. His jacket was thrown over a wooden chair in the dining area. The sleeves of his henley rolled around his elbows showing the veins in his forearms.

He changed out his jeans for a random pair of dark shorts, he threw off his dirtied socks.

To say the least, he was at comfort for the first time this week. He started to read the book a little, the pages were torn and faded. Yori must've read this multiple times.

Bucky wondered why. The book was small and petite and was only a hundred or so pages. It was interesting, it was all about philosophy, it was written as if it was a big life poem.

He hated a lot of it but here and there were a few good points. He was about halfway through the book when a paragraph struck him.

Heart. Mind. Body. Soul. Great beings of life and they can only communicate by stars. Life and everything between can be carried through them. So if you speak to the sky of night. You will often hear a reply.

He thought of it as silly but then his brain began to wonder. What if he could talk to whoever he wished dead or alive. Just from talking to the stars. It seemed too easy and childish.

Although what did he have to lose the majority of the world hated him and the other half tolerated him.

He put the tweezers down and wrapped his hand with the bandage used to box. He had leftover wrappings since he used to do dirty street fighting when he got dumped from S.H.E.I.L.D's payroll.

He picked up the book that was under his thigh, holding the book open. He held it there since that was where the most light surfaced. He didn't exactly have the expenses to pay the electric bill so he always kept it off.

His eyebrows furrowed ever close as he came across a sentence he seemed to not understand.

The book looked like it shrunk in the size of his hand. His fingers twisted and ran over the cover and the letters on the page fell off onto his lap. The shorts rode up about mid-thigh and engraved their way into his skin.

He couldn't read anymore. He sighed when he read the same paragraph twice over.

All he could think about was being able to talk to Steve. He pushed it into the back of his mind, he carried the book carelessly in his hand, the feeling an odd one since he hadn't read anything for ages.

He walked over to his little place where he slept and laid down.

The news wasn't showing anything interesting. He became quite bored. He wondered if Yori was doing okay.

Maybe he should check up on him even if they weren't on the best of terms. He drifted in and out of consciousness, he played with the wrapping of his hand to try and keep him entertained.

He sat up against his wall observing everything around him how bland and monotone everything was.

He felt a buzz in the pocket of his shorts. He begrudgingly went to grab it. He didn't know who or why they were messaging him. Whoever it knew that it was just for emergencies.

He swears that he was going to murder Sam if he sent him one of the pictures with a caption that never related to the image. Sam said that supposedly there was a joke in the caption but that just made Bucky even more confused.

Bucky didn't know why he kept the phone. He never answers it and usually, he finds out everything he needs to know by watching the news.

When Bucky did finally open his phone to see the lock screen. He stared at it in bewilderment for a long while trying to make sense as to why someone messaged him.

He noticed that it was from an unknown number. That being said there was a one in a million chance for someone to know what his number was. He sighed he was going to have to change his number again. He was surprised what the message was.

"Hey! I had a wonderful time on our date today, I was wondering if we could go on another this week? If not I completely understand I'm new to this..um..blind dating thing. I really enjoyed meeting you instead of talking to a screen! Lol! Anyway, Ttyl!"

Bucky didn’t know how or what to feel. What date? Why was she (he assumed so since the person seemed vibrant and bubbly.) So happy to see him? He didn’t even know who this person was! A thought crossed Bucky’s mind.

Perhaps he could initiate the partner she went on a date with. He wasn’t exactly busy and had a girl on his arm. He realized that if he were to go on this hypothetical date that it would be very obvious that he wasn’t the man she was interested in.

He subconsciously stood up and paced his living room to his kitchen to and fro. The soft glow of his phone illuminated his face in the dark. It was wrapped tight in his metal fingers. The yellow stripes that were like a snake coiling around his arm grew more visible.

He threw his right hand into his hair, his henley slightly rising and showing a patch of skin between the waistband of his shorts and where the sweater laid. It allowed a drooling sight of a teasing view of his defined “V” of his hip bone that flowed below his shorts.

It's been a while since he felt any blood circulate under his shorts. He didn’t understand what this girl did to him but it got him going and that was certainly uncommon under his circumstances of life.

Don’t get him wrong back in his day he was a player. Now it's lessened to nothing. Not even dates, so this could be big for him. He stopped when he concluded. What the hell did ttyl and lol mean? It took an embarrassing text to Sam and Sam merely laughed at him and told Bucky to google it. That just made things worse.

What was google? He went through every single thing on his phone until he found the icon labeled google and he did google it. ‘Talk to you later and 'laugh out loud' Oh. Bucky was embarrassed how long it took him to figure that out.

He sloppily used both of his thumbs and stood in the middle of his living room texting out a reply.

'I'm totally down to go on another date with you, sweetheart."

He was proud of himself since he remembered Sam using the word totally in a sentence before. He was confident that the confidence and the suaveness from his past never left. And then the regret started to hit him with a bat.

Why’d he called her sweetheart? What if she didn’t like to be called that. God how could he be so stupid?! He started to give up after he didn’t seem to have a reply in his future.

He sat down, crisscrossed in front of his tv and his couch, and began to swim ever so quietly in his mind. His eyes burned with strain as he watched the bright screen in front of him. A festival celebrating the new captain he nearly lost his mind until he felt a buzz against his thigh and when he looked down he saw that the mysterious girl messaged him again.

He opened his phone to find three little dots appearing and disappearing continuously. He wondered what she was writing that required that attention to thinking of what she was writing to him. He wasn’t anyone special. He was a natural disaster but that was about the unique thing about him.

He grew impatient and shifted his weight every few seconds. He was very nervous about what she was going to say. He felt like a schoolboy asking out his crush and being afraid of rejection. Lord help him because he missed feeling something other than pain. Then another buzz ran up his arm and under his spine, it was the message she sent. It was short and simple of the lines of what remembered to be:

"..."

Bucky nearly threw his phone across his apartment. But then sucked a huge breath through his teeth when another buzz went through.

"It's just no one has ever called me 'sweetheart' before."

That made Bucky feel like he wanted to crawl into the deepest darkest ice chamber and live there for the rest of his life. This was it he destroyed his life by trying to flirt with someone hundreds of years younger than him. He exposed himself and he could never redo it. He should've known that this was a bad idea.

Technically he did but he just ignored it. How could he be so idiotic to spoil his chances of getting out of this cage of death. This was the epitome of a fish drowning. He was overreacting and hyperventilating solely because he doesn't know how to flirt like the modern age. He was doomed.

His fingers resisting the strength of his mind telling him not to type out sent her the message reading:

"Do you like being called sweetheart or do you prefer doll?"

He swore he died when he saw that he sent that. SWEETHEART AND NOW DOLL? He wanted to take a steaming hot bath and maybe splurge with bubbles and fall asleep and hey maybe he'd drown.

At this point, he didn't think it wasn't that bad of an idea. He put his palms on his forehead, his knees on his thighs staring at the pitch-black rectangle below him. Impatiently waiting for her response.

An on-set headache developing from all the stress he's had under the last thirty minutes. His heart jumped at the sight of the glow lighting up his screen. He quite literally jumped out of his sin to read it:

"You have no idea. It's way better than getting called mama and shawty by the fuck boys. Lol!"

Bucky was now in the crisis of not knowing what was a shawty and an *ahem* fuck boy. It was so worrying the amount of googling Bucky has done just talking to this girl. He noted to never call her..shawty or mama and to never be a fuck boy.

When he did figure out what those things were he wasn't exactly surprised. He was jealous and angry that she'd been called things that she didn't want. The feeling was common but never this strongly. It was an odd feeling it rose from his stomach to his throat and made it dry and hard to speak.

It made him clutch the sides of his phone so harshly that webs started to hatch from within the glass. His eyes cold and dead staring at the screen reading over her sentence once, then ten times over.

A little buzz came from his phone gasping for air from Bucky choking it out with his metal hand. (You wish that was you, huh?)

"I do love how polite and gentlemanly you are tho. It's hard to find guys like you."

Such short sentences made his heart gallop so fast in minutes. The logical side of his brain kept telling him that her compliments weren't for him but the attention for someone was much louder.

Maybe his old ways of flirting were beneficial, which caused him to be more at ease. His tensed shoulders relaxed along with his metal arm. Although his body felt he was burning alive. His free hand pulled his collar off his velcro skin, letting his structured collar bones come breathable. His breathing became shallow.

"It's hard not to be when you meet someone so radiant."

He didn't even know who this girl was but all he knew is that he didn't want to lose her and become utterly alone again. Not this time. His hair stuck to his face. He was going to have to take the coldest shower ever to get rid of her and even that he won't.

"LOL, Speak for yourself, I'm nothing compared to you."

He scoffed and typed furiously, how could she think such things about herself. He was deeply frustrated he didn't know why but he felt very drawn to her. He'd do anything in his power to just want her to promise him that she'd never leave him.

God, he sounded like a psycho and maybe he was. Maybe this was his last straw and when she'd break off he would too. He was so afraid of going back to the way things were to going back to being the winter soldier that he felt like he lost his mind trying to prevent it.

"Alright doll, how about this, we meet up this Friday for dinner and a movie at nine o'clock?"

He was scared that she would reject him. Fuck. She didn't even know what he looked like. What if she took one look at him and saw past his facade and into how broken he was and decided that no. All these feelings are what drew Bucky to stop searching and to think that he was a burden to everyone. Maybe that's why he felt the only place he could be himself was when he knew that he was 100% alone.

He huffed softly and threw his head back against the couch staring up at the ceiling once again. His Adam's apple bobbed as he listened to the soft murmur of the tv. All the world's troubles put onto Steve's back for years and he gets a little tongue-tied and that was it for him.

He needed help. He needed to get better. He laughed softly, his face breaking out into creases of his tanned skin, his lips parting and his teeth glowing against the white flush. He was insane and there was no going back. He laughed at himself for what seemed like an hour until he felt the familiar buzz against his heated skin.

"Hell yes man as long as we watch sharknado!"

Bucky's smile grew more and stretched his face into a radiance that made him look like he did when he was young.

Bucky didn't know what the hell sharknado was but he was glad to know she liked him enough to go on a date with him. Bucky Barnes had a date to go on Friday and he couldn't be happier. He didn't have any nightmares that night but he'd rather have a life-ending one than what he told Yori in the morning.

It was a couple of days after the fight with Yori. Bucky finished the book the day after he read it that's why he was here along with wanting to apologize for his actions at the restaurant. He was currently sat on the wise man's couch. His son's shrine right on the small table in front of him. He bit the inside of his cheek hard and let his eyes fall elsewhere. He was ashamed to have kept this secret for so long but he couldn't find a way to tell Yori.

"Yeah, hey I murdered your son but it was fine since I was brainwashed by wanna-be nazis?" He let out a small nervous laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Yori was going to find out somehow sooner or later. Bucky just hoped it was later. He didn't want what he had with Yori to end because of his past.

"What's worrying you?" Yori said softly as he walked briskly into the living room with a cup of green tea. He sat down on the couch on the right side of the Bucky. Nearest to the door. Bucky couldn't but think Yori was in some form afraid of him since he tested him that night at the restaurant. No one ever tried to test Yori.

Bucky was different. A way that Yori wanted to understand. But Yori saw the trouble of the glass downstairs when he went to put the trash away. The brand was still visible and Yori only knew one person who drank that. Bucky. Yori figured bad things came from it.

Partly the reason since he knew what came after from drunken mishappenings. Yori sat the green tea on the brown coffee table in front of them by Bucky and put his focus back onto Bucky.

"I asked a question," Yori said softly. It seemed that Bucky was in a trance his head downward and his eyes shifting searching for something maybe an answer to Yori's question but there were so many things going through Buckys mind that it'd take months for Bucky to explain to Yori everything.

Bucky looked up to Yori with a smile but in his eyes were nothing but disaster. Yori sat uncomfortably. He was disturbed not once in the few months of knowing Bucky did not smile.

Bucky ignored the question instead "I finished the book you gave me," Bucky spoke with a waver in his voice making him sound unsure. While he reached into his pocket to grab it Yori pursed his lips.

"I didn't want you to read it I wanted you to return it to the library," Bucky's smile faltered and his eyes dimmed even darker than the way they did before. "Oh" is all Bucky said before he put the book back into his jacket pocket. He messed with the wrapping on his hand that Yori took notice of. Bucky was acting odder than usual and Yori couldn't put his finger on it.

Yori took out a scratch piece of paper and handed it to Bucky. In scratchy handwriting, Bucky assumed it was another book 'life on mars.' Then Yori spoke up "Are you going to drink your tea if not I will," Yori jabbed a finger pointing to the white cup. Bucky cleared his throat "I'm not that thirsty,"

Bucky handed over the glass cup to Yori and he glared over to Bucky and he glared back. Yori smacked his lips together after he finished. "If you're here just to have a staring contest with me, then I'm afraid you'll be here for a very long time,"

Bucky readjusted his posture and breathed roughly. "I wanted to apologize for the way I acted at the restaurant. I know I shouldn't have lost my temper at something so minor."

Bucky stopped thinking of words to say he gave up. Yori got up and left the kitchen uninterested in Bucky's apology. His son's portrait started yearning to be alive again. He stared brutally into Bucky's existence. It asked to switch position with Bucky and Bucky swore that he was out of his body and then sucked back in when Yori started to swirl a spoon around the top of the lip of the cup.

"Sugar makes green tea flavorful," Yori sat down when he was finished he swirled it into the now full cup. Bucky guessed he made a few more for later. Yori came back up to the lip and dampened it with tea it made and a remarkably loud song.

Around and around it went putting Bucky into a trance his posture regained to straight and his shoulder back head high with eyes dead. "When my son, RJ, was one he used to sing this song 'a longing rusted freight car coming to an end where it went when the furnace descended.' it was quite a beautiful song when he sang it,"

Bucky heard bits and pieces before his brain went to a mush of the activation words being said in his head. "When he was nine had a tumor and we took him to the doctor but we found out it was benign."

Bucky couldn't hear. He couldn't see. The sky was filled to the brim with stars. The moon brightened and removed his appearance from the trace of a normal eye. He stepped carefully on the roof of the building. His suit blending him into the shadows. His hair stuck to his face closing him in and disguising him more than he already is. He saw RJ through the roof's window. This couldn't have gone more perfectly. He slipped behind one of the paintings and was quiet, his breathing irregular. He heard footsteps and assumed it was RJ and punched through the painting and grabbed tightly onto the neck of the man he mistakenly thought was RJ and tossed him back into the debris of the painting. A man came after him and he quickly threw the knife from the back of his belt and plunged it into the neck of his victim. Another man slammed into the stairway when he flew out of the painting the rest of the men flew down the stairs in pursuit of fleeing the winter soldier. As they shot at him he was faster and killed them first he jumped off the stairs and threw the other spare knife at the man in front of him. An old man grey in the green leather jacket he smashed against the wall even threw metal Bucky could feel the man's heartbeat quickening and then faltering to nothingness. "Hail Hydra'' The last words the man heard as he dropped from Buckys grip to a heap of a corpse in a matter of seconds. Bucky turned to his right and watched the RJ struggle to put the key to escape Bucky. Bucky wanted to laugh at how weak and puny his attempt was to get away; he was constantly looking behind him at Bucky. Closer and closer Bucky's strides were to capture his life. Bucky's shoulder swayed a demeanor threatened with authority and anyone who dared to test it would feel the stupidity of their choice. When RJ started to beg Bucky thought that was all he had in him. Bucky didn't care. He raised his hand and straightened it perfectly matching the hilt to the RJs head.

"I KILLED RJ!" Bucky yelled standing upright. Saliva flew onto Yori when he screamed. Bucky's metal arm was tightly tied around Yori's throat. Yori was in pure terror, his eyes wide, his hands in front of him wrapped around the metal as he leaned back to get away from Bucky as he confessed to him who killed his son.

His mouth was wide in shock gasping for air. Bucky's eyes widened in horror, his mind running thousands of thoughts per second he took his hand off Yori's throat and choked on air. Bucky stared down at his metallic pitch-black hand and then Bucky ran. He ran to his apartment. Hands in his hair pacing kitchen to the living room.

What the actual fuck did he just do? He felt tears brim his eyes and he couldn't believe what he just did. He ruined everything he worked for since Wakanda. His reputation was obliterated just like that in a matter of seconds. His breathing became ragged; he managed to take off his dark black leather jacket and tossed it to the couch.

The black t-shirt he had on raised slightly from his arms being on his head. His wrapped hand tore into his skin making him even more upset from the broken mirror in his bathroom that he still didn't clean up. The memory just kept running itself over in his head he couldn't stop thinking about it. Yori's reaction.

There's no way he'd be able to repair what he did to Yori and he'd had to live the rest of his life knowing how badly he fucked up. He wanted to so badly tear this goddamn arm off with everything he had. He remembered trying the old one off that Hydra gave him it never worked. He still had the deep gashes from his nails where they latched onto his shoulder.

The scars never really healed right, instead of being in the skin, they rose like mountains from it. Bucky clutched his head tightly, his form shaking with tremors. He just kept thinking of the word stupid.

"I, John Walker. Captain America has taken the super-soldier serum and in my disregard, I feel as if there are no consequences and it should be open to the public. And in retrospect of the world, I personally think that Steve Rogers was too soft on his components and since I have taken the serum I will no longer be tolerating the life of the terrorists. That being said I will in no regard will hold back. I will do everything in my power to rid this Earth of the monsters we know until their last god-ridden breath."

Bucky lifted his head from its place hanging down into his hands, his jaw gritted tight, his nose flared, and his eyes full of fury. John Walker. He was going to kill that man one way or another. Bucky was pissed so beyond natural anger that he stood up and walked straight in front of the tv.

This man was beyond no right in having that televised. What he said could destroy the world in an instant. Who or why did he get the serum from? And Bucky was the time bomb? Bucky closed his eyes, his hands turned into tight fists, and let the image of John Walker in an interview with a lady sat across from him at John's old school burn in his mind. The white noise of the crowd cheering John's opinion made Bucky's blood boil.

Bucky thought he had calmed himself until he opened his eyes he saw John look into the camera and point.

"The world would be a better place if there were more brave soldiers like me."

Bucky reared his metal fist back and pounded the tv until the screen was ridden of John Walker's face. Bucky came to the idea that when he got another tv maybe he shouldn't watch the news for a while. Glass fell on the table and pieces on the wood floor by his feet.

He fell to his knees. His knees cracked from all his weight on them with no support. His knees being crushed by the glass. His hands hiding his face from the world.

His cheeks and face grew warm from how he felt. His nose burned when tears started to fall ever so gently down his cheeks. Grey eyes becoming the most vibrant of blues. He choked softly, his throat closing as he sat there in the middle of his destroyed living room. His apartment is the greatest amphitheater in the world.

His shoulders rising and falling and stuttering when he gagged on air. He parted his hands from his face and sat upright. His hands fell into fists, his arms tensed and the veins in his neck pulsed when he let out a blood curdling scream. It was a long screech filled with his voice cracking his vocal cords giving upon him.

His tears despite his yelling still fell and stained his cheeks. He thought so many things at once and everything involved him being a monster. He was hurt and this was the worst self-harm. The arm was given to him and the brain that wasn't his own.

He decided that he needed to go on a walk to calm himself down. Maybe he'd go and return Yori's book. All he knew is that the world for Bucky Barnes was getting darker and worse by the day. Who knows how long until he loses who he is. But one thing was for sure. It wasn't going to be for long until he does.

He stayed home for the rest of that day. It was in the evening when he had gotten home from Yori's. He was still greatly upset by what happened. He couldn't think about it until he grew angry with a suicidal rage. He was alone. All over again the monster that kids are scared to go to sleep over.

He sat by the window again just in the same random shorts and no shirt out of fear of coating it in sweat. It was the least of his problems but it was still a burden. He wished he had something to listen to, his thoughts were so loud that he was surprised that mind readers didn't go deaf from it. He watched the people below him walk past the building complex.

Not batting an eye at the monster in the window above them. He wanted to laugh at how normal people were and how he was once like them but now turned into this creature. His shoulders broad and held his form up by the sides of his sculpted waist.

His legs crossed over another he leaned against the wall that joined the window in the corner. He sat across from the kitchen. His stomach growled at the thought of food, the last time he could remember eating something was at the restaurant and that was just a nibble. It wasn't like he could eat something. He never splurged on food, all the food he had was fruit sitting in a white complimentary bowl on the middle of the island.

He pushed his head against the wall swallowing thickly debating whether he should or not. He decided he didn't deserve it after what he's done. Disrupted from his thoughts he felt a buzz on his thigh in the pocket of his shorts.

He fished out the stupid little box and saw that it once again another text from Sam. He's been ignoring them since he's had Sam's contact; he deemed them not worthy of a response. They were all on the lines of are you okay? Bucky smiled at something so incredulous. He started typing out

Yeah. Just losing my mind but other than that I'm just fine. But went against it. When he read more of the missed messages one did pique his interest. Did you hear about the rumor of Steve being on the moon? Bucky's eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted. What? How could Steve be on the moon? Sam and he literally watched Steve grow old in front of them. How absurd to say that Steve was on the moon. But when Bucky thought more of it, it reminded him of what he read in the book.

Talk to the stars and they'll talk back. Bucky groaned in annoyance. Was this what he was resorting to in a desperate measure for interaction? Talking to inanimate things. He let out a deep breath his chest rose then fell shortly after. He closed his eyes imagining Steve back in Brooklyn and all the mischievous things they did.

He remembered the day Steve got rejected and then Bucky being deployed the next day. The day that started it all. The downfall of Bucky's life. Bucky didn't know what he would say to Steve but he thought he started out well enough.

"Do you remember when we were kids and we'd always have to act like we were soldiers because of you. God Steve even when we were kids you had your mind made up. Always wanting to be something when I couldn't even choose what cereal I wanted,"

Bucky stopped and thought over the words he said. It was true. Steve was always headstrong about everything he wanted. Bucky remembered that Steve was going to create this comic of this monkey who shot bananas out of a bazooka. And Steve did.

It never took off or anything it was just the thought of if anything Steve wanted he would never stop until he got it.

While Bucky always had his priorities elsewhere, the majority of the time he made Steve do his homework so he wouldn't fail. Two opposite people were the best of friends, who knew that one of them would turn out to be the villain.

"You know Steve I enlisted because I felt like I had to prove something, I had to prove that I was better at something than you. Just that one thing I ended up not even being better than you at."

Bucky's voice was dry and raspy when he spoke. The screaming fried his throat when he talked. It burned like a good bottle of Shōchū.

He'd kill for a bottle right now. He was starting to understand that this wouldn't work but he grew angrier at the thought of Steve trading him out for some girl. Bucky knew how much Peggy mattered to Steve but he still never got why he'd trade him out for her. He was jealous in a sense over the life Steve got.

"If I could I would change places with you in an instant, to be at peace. You got to live your life and I had to decay for years without my best friend. Maybe this was for the best so you couldn't see me become who I am now. Someone that we swore to never be ever since we were kids, the bad guy."

Bucky chewed on his lip after that. Til the end of the line his ass. Bucky ran his hand through his hair, the strands comforting his hand. He got up from the window and walked over to his little bed and went to sleep. The night's toll took everything out of him.

The only thing he currently wanted was this thing he had with this girl to be good. How wrong he was.

He decided that he was going to go and return the book Yori gave him. He still hated what happened and he knew trying to fix it would make it worse. The least he could do is get him the book he wanted. So Bucky put on his washed-out jeans, his shirt he wore yesterday, shrugged on his jackets and slipped his feet into his boots, and a black glove to hide his metallic arm, and went to the Library.

The library was a little old place with the roof caving in not far from the complex building. He wondered why Yori didn't just go and get it himself, Bucky didn't really care about having to go but he just wanted to know if Yori was okay and doing well.

Bucky went down the stairs and found a few remaining pieces of the glass bottle he broke last week. The memory of him falling and breaking it etched in his mind vividly. He felt a chill run up his spine at the feeling of someone seeing him like that.

He hurried down the last of the stairs and opened the glass door and went outside. The warm air wafted itself around him in a soft summer breeze. It was warm but not hot enough for him to go without a jacket and the chilly breeze lightened it up. It felt relaxing since he forgot how long it's been outside of his apartment.

He took long strides on his walk. But he couldn't shake the paranoia of being stalked. He was about halfway when he saw a shadow mock him. He walked faster not wanting to have to deal with this today.

The other person's shadow grew larger and bigger as Bucky walked further. When Bucky saw the library and a few he nearly bolted to the building. When he was inside he saw that it was just a lost dog. He was losing it. He sighed his mind relaxing and then jolting when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay mister?"

A warm voice made his heart pump faster than it already was he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. When he turned around he was met by easily the most beautiful girl. It was you. He thought in that instant that everything about you was perfect the way your eyes looked at him, the way your face was adorable, the way your hair fell behind your ears, the way your lips looked the most perfect shade along with your eyes. He promised himself when he got home that he'd paint his whole apartment that color.

He went cross-eyed from staring at the shape of your lips and how they shaped around the words he couldn't hear from being so entranced by you. He started to feel his heartbeat out of his chest. When he thought of how you'd look with pretty lips wrapped around him and dull bedroom eyes looking up at him through thick eyelashes. He needed to stop, he just met you and now he's so hard against his jeans that he was sure that he was bruised.

And your hands on his shoulders shaking him wasn't helping him. His trance was broken when he realized what was happening. "Huh?" That is all he managed to make out through his lust-clouded mind. You did this face that made him die, it was when your eyebrows furrowed and your lips went to one side pursed together. Your eyes were cut at him and he knew he was in trouble but he just couldn't help being enticed by you.

"I asked if you needed help," You stopped and wagged a finger in his way "You're all sweaty." He looked down at himself and you were right, his hair stuck down and his shirt showed pools. Shit. Way to embarrass yourself, Buck. You're sweaty, you're horny for some girl you just met. He was a trainwreck embodied. "I'm okay, it's just the heat," Bucky spoke with uncertainty. He had no idea what was happening why he was acting like this. He usually never felt like this around a girl, especially one he just met.

Your face was still cut, your lips went back into the fullness of how they are naturally. "Weird but okay." You spoke under your breath since it wasn't sweating weather outside. You were going to be the death of him and thankfully there were only a couple of other people in the library since it was the morning of a weekday.

"There's a cool spot where the ac is over there." She turned and pointed towards the left somewhere. He couldn't concentrate in the slightest even if he tried. And god your body from just the standard shirt and jeans you wore he felt his turn into skinny jeans.

"But anyway if you need me just yell, its y/n." And you left and when you walked away to assist someone else he got the perfect view of your ass. He scurried into the thick of the bookshelves and triple-checked if anyone was around him and adjusted himself.

It was so painful to not jump your bones right there. He rubbed his face with his hands and groaned. Get it together Buck. He realizes that he was going to have to go and talk to you again since he had to check the book in. He mentally stabs himself in the neck.

He calms himself down enough so that he could talk to you again. He feels like a prepubescent boy talking to his crush. Bucky guessed that he lost his cool with talking to girls over the years since he stopped. This was hell. You were at the front desk, the one in front of the door. You were reading some book that he didn't know.

He took a moment to admire the way your hair frames your face, the way your ass jutted out so you could lean over the desk on your forearms. Your free hand, the one not holding your page was used as a support beam for your face under your chin. God you were so beautiful, he hooked his finger under the collar of his shirt and started to flick it back and forth to generate air.

He was the human-dog drooling over a mate. He hated himself for not getting to know you and he already felt like this towards you. He was a monster but he wasn't impolite; he drew the line there. He was in the clouds that he didn't notice you staring at him with squinted eyes. "Can I help you, sir?" Your voice hung on sir in his mind.

He couldn't help but envision you beneath him moaning sir. "Uh, yeah, there's this book" He startled himself when his voice croaked out a response. He patted the pocket of his jacket and had a crisis when he thought he left it at home. But when he shoved his hands into his pocket he let out a smile of relief and grabbed it and slid it over to you on the other side of the desk.

"I need you to check that in and then" He stopped and searched for the piece of paper Yori gave him. He found it crumpled as lint in the bottom of his other pocket and the words faded. "Shit, uh, and check out this." He shoved his hands in his pocket and looked at his feet afraid of confrontation. You silently grabbed the book and checked it in and grabbed the note. You couldn't make out a single letter. Your eyebrows pinched together and when he looked up quickly and then darted his eyes away. He knew that you couldn't.

He wanted a sinkhole to open up and swallow him whole. You scratched the back of your neck trying to decipher the note "I can recommend something similar to the book you turned in, I'm sorry but I can't read this." You spoke with sincerity. And walked out behind the desk and poor Bucky followed you like a lovesick puppy.

You cursed Jordan, another employee for putting the desired book on the top shelf. The bookshelves were very tall and you weren't short but you weren't 7' foot either. You pinched your nose shutting your eyes and put a hand on your hip. "Do you see the book at the very top with the red back?" You muttered and Bucky looked up and saw the issue. "Do you want me to grab it for you?" Bucky looked at you with the softest eyes and you couldn't help but admire them.

You shook your head and lord you were about to melt. His body was brushed up against yours, you could've moved but you really didn't. You could feel the texture of his jacket against your soft skin and you cursed yourself for blushing. He took notice and let a small smile creep on his face when he handed you the book and your head was hung low when you walked back behind the desk.

Bucky guessed that he didn't completely lose his effect on girls. When you were checking out the book he noticed the book you were reading. It was The hobbit. He actually enjoyed the book when he read it when it first came out. He didn't take an interest in fantasy and so he shrugged it off until he actually read it.

When you stamped the books inside the page and slid it back. Bucky smirked "You know they all die in the end." The pure confusion on your face was amusing and with that, he left.

When he got home he started to feel the metal of his arm become rusted and thinking back it had been a while since the last time he cleaned it. He was wanting it to fall off so bad that he forgot he actually needed it.

He wondered where the girl went that texted him before. He didn't want to bother her by texting her first that to him was unnatural. It didn't bother him that much since he used to. And that the date was tomorrow so she would either show up or not and he'd suffer the consequences either way.

He went to the bathroom to grab the grease and a rag he uses every time in the cabinet under the sink.

He stopped shortly catching himself in the shattered mirror. The bandage on his chin began to fall off God forbid it started to at the library. He took it off slowly, the hair of his stubble getting caught in the crossfire. There was a bright pink little scar where the gash was. His skin healed relatively fast but it never cured the scars. He figured if his chin was healed that his hand should be.

He unwrapped his hand slowly for some reason he was scared of what it looked like. When he finally finished unwrapping his palm was littered with scars ranging in size. He touched the scars to see if they hurt with his metal hand and nothing.

Just a scar.

Bucky grabbed the grease and took off his jacket and boots and the first time he moved in he sat on the couch.

It was stiff as ever and it never got out of the store phase. He poured some grease on the white rag and it turned brown and he started to put it in the creases where he noticed it too slow. His mind ran back to you that never happened to him. God he was caught red-handed too, he'd have to take a very long and cold shower when he was done cleaning his arm. The rest of the evening all he could think about was what would happen tomorrow and how he'd destroy the girl of his dreams.

Bucky spent Friday constantly checking his phone for two reasons.

1) to see if his admirer would message him and

2) always checking the time.

He honestly couldn't wait; it's been forever and he was excited about something new. For change. The only source of entertainment he had was the book he checked out earlier. It wasn't the book he was supposed to get. The book in contrast was called American Psycho.

Bucky was about halfway and he fairly enjoyed it. Although it disturbed him since he found similarities in himself with Patrick Bateman. Bucky laughed at all the dark jokes and liked all the points where Patrick lost all sanity; it was the highlight of the book.

Bucky flipped one of the knives carelessly in the hand that wasn't occupied by the book. Bucky loved the power a single knife had. A single slip of the wrist could end something as fast as it began. Time flew by when simple hobbies turned into jobs. He cursed himself because it was seven o clock and he had only an hour to go to the restaurant which was the sushi place that he and Yori used to eat at.

He texted the directions to the girl, he grabbed his glove and jacket and shoved the knife in the back of his belt and fled down the stairs and out the door, and ran the rest of the way.

You sat at the small petite table, your phone clutched in your hand carefully watching the time. When it turned to 8:55 your gut twisted. Maybe he didn't like you as much as you liked him.

The waitress came by once again asking if everything was okay and if you'd like to eat and each time and you'd have to politely decline. You crossed and uncrossed your legs, they grew numb from you sitting in the wooden chair for the past hour. You didn't know what to wear so you opted for a sleek white dress and some heels.

You hoped you didn't overdress and make the wrong impression. You sipped on your water looking through the window to find any hint of your lover boy. You knew what to look for since you knew who it was. But maybe he didn't come and you were set up. How embarrassing this was. Yori told you that he was stubborn but he seemed pretty into you at the library. You know Yori through Leah, an employee at the restaurant who was a friend of yours.

She promised you that she would pay for your meal every time you ate there. How could you refuse? You sighed and began to get up and leave since you thought Bucky gave up on wanting to go on the date. You quickly sat down when you heard the bell of the door ring open and then there he was in all his glory.

Bucky Barnes, in the same leather jacket but you couldn't believe how good he looked underneath the dim light. His bandages were now gone and his face was sullen and structured from the shadows that made his face deepen. You smiled your ruby lips catching Bucky's attention and he hadn't seen something so pleasing to the eye in ages. Although he was confused since he didn't know that it was you who he was texting was there something going on that he didn't know about?

He pulled out the chair and sat across from you with his face stern. "Why didn't you tell me it was you that I was talking to?" He spoke slowly and his head tilted in question like a puppy's. "Yori told me about how you are with dating and he was afraid of you always being alone, and he gave me your number, I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

You fiddled with your fingers when you talked you were nervous about his reaction. You knew all about Bucky's reputation and embarrassing enough growing up you developed a crush on him, so you jumped for this opportunity.

You loved how strong and brave he was and even though he was brainwashed you thought of him as a good person. He chewed on the inside of his cheek thinking of what were the right words to say. "Just no more secrets from now on." With that, he waved down the waitress for a bottle of Shōchū.

After the half, the bottle was gone you couldn't help but be in wonder from how he managed to be able to drink all that meanwhile you were still sipping on your first shot. Every sip you took you gagged and your face turned into a kid who took their first sip of alcohol which made Bucky laugh.

Dinner was going along nicely there were many jokes and stories shared but Bucky couldn't help but be skeptical of how this could work. Bucky was severely messed up and couldn't care for another. He wanted to but he was just incapable, maybe he could just live this lie and things could be normal.

When they called for closure Bucky finished laughing at some remark you made, you and he were sat there talking for a couple of hours. It was just so easy to talk to him. Although you did notice a few times he would wince in pain and put his face in his hands. You thought it was odd but shrugged it off from his excessive drinking. Speaking of the devil he asked

"Do you want to go to my place. There have been complications with my tv so we can't watch a movie, but I can keep you company." You smiled a drunken buzz of Shōchū. Not nearly did you drink as much as Bucky but it was still written across your features. Your face flushed pink and your body made of jello hung off of Bucky's arm the whole walk to his house and Bucky every now and then had to pick you up.

Bucky didn't want to do anything rash to you but in the back of his mind, something kept itching it made it so painful that he couldn't ignore it. It kept making him shake his head and wince it was like a headache but much more painful. When he got into his apartment you took notice of what he meant by complications of a totaled tv. You shed off your heels and sat on the tv nervous to be in Bucky's house, your form off-putting to Bucky.

He sat down across the couch from you and he became hurt by you sitting so far away from him. "Are you scared of me or something?" He spoke grimly staring at the floor, his face holding no emotion to his words. "What? no!" You were shocked by his words. How could he assume that you were scared of him? Bucky looked your way and a strange look appeared in his eyes.

"Then why are you sitting so far away from me?" He gritted his teeth and his hands turned into fists, they were clamped tightly together on his thighs and this side of Bucky did scare you. He wasn't Bucky, he looked like him but his whole persona changed in the span of minutes. You wondered if it was something you said or did.

You became fearful when he fell off the couch onto his knees his head clutched in his hands. He started to scream not like the ones before this one was full of pain and torment. The moon's light made this scene unfold a lot more sinister. What was happening to him, why was he acting this way? Then all of a sudden he grew very quiet nothing could be heard other than your breathing.

You were confused and scared but you did care for Bucky and in his position, you assumed he was in serious need of help. You walked carefully taking notice to not step loudly to provoke him. You crouched down your dress falling over your feet, you reached your right hand out hesitant towards Bucky.

You stayed with your hand on his shoulder

"Bucky?"

You whispered softly, scared to disturb him. Everything was at ease at a calm one that felt too unrealistic.

That was true because a few seconds later Bucky grumbled out

"Who the hell is Bucky."

He slung around his body twisted and grabbed a knife from the back of his belt and stabbed you straight into the heart with it. Before you could even have time to run it was over.

The white of your dress now became a soaking deep red. The way your eyes forever open to the moon the way the moon took your life. And that day was when Bucky Barnes lost his sanity and forever came the winter soldier.

*A few months later*

She sat with her legs crossed, her hair tied up perfectly.

Her posture evenly to the ceiling while sitting. The only one that a soldier would perfect. She read over his portfolio over and over to get every last detail to stick in her mind so she wouldn't forget.

She breathed heavily finishing the last sentence. She took off her glasses and shut the case file on her lap, and put her right elbow up on the white seat, her glasses in the same hand.

She pursed her lips staring at the man in front of her and sat on the white couch in front of a forest mural. He was in all black a blank face, his hair a little longer and his stubble now thicker.

He played with the pink protruding scar on his right hand. Pushing and watching the blood rush to it. She wrote that in the notebook.

When he caught notice he stopped and tilted his head slightly. He narrowed his eyes and stared at her.

He was convicted of third-degree murder and numerous accounts of other convictions.

She thought over all the things that were stated in the portfolio but what struck her the most was that he drank excessively and faked being drunk just to feel

"more human."

She thought of a way to form a sentence to not upset him about what he's telling her to see if what he recollected matched what was in the documents but there was no easy way to do that.

She listened to him finish the last of what he was telling her:

"And that's how the story ended."

Fin.

87 notes · View notes

wtfsapien · 3 years

Note

Headcanons of if OurCiel told the Midford family and Elizabeth the whole truth of when he went missing with his older twin brother and the hell he went through and back also witnessing RealCiels death and admits his feelings of survivors guilt and insecurity about being alive instead of him to Lizzie and her family..

(I just wanted to know of what if..I know that Elizabeth pointing OurCiels lies wouldn't happen if he did tell her the reason)

What if things turned out differently?

Now I would never imagine my first request to be this…deep, should I say. I would say there will be required a lot of psychology for this one due to Ciel’s traumatic past and especially the ask being how it would be if he admitted it. Even tho I’m not a psychology major, I am quite interested in psychology so I’m bringing out everything I know and try my best for this ask! To remind you, I didn’t read the manga of Black Butler, but for this quest, I did dig up some summaries of every arc until now

Thanks for this wonderful and quite challenging ask! @animecrazysworld

Requests open!

Warning! THIS IS A LONG TEXT! Some sort of spoilers from the manga, talking about Ciel’s trauma, mentions of death and blood, do not read this if you’re sensitive to those topics.

I don't know why I choose that GIF ngl-

Now, there’s a reason Ciel did not admit about what truly happened with him and his twin to anyone.

The first and the easiest reason being he’s in contact with a demon after all.

I would also imagine Sebastian stopping him from opening up to others for both protecting his own identity

and he IS a demon after all (cruel demon-)

But another reason is that this boy is like 13 as far as we know in manga, this boy is buried in the depth of PTSD and considering how severe it is.

The chances of him confessing any of the pain he went through is truly quite low.

But this is a headcanon, so let’s tweak it to imagine what would’ve happened IF Ciel really had told Elizabeth and her family about what happened that night after the fire.

But I can’t imagine him just blindly telling Elizabeth about this, so let’s go through HOW he ended up confessing about this in the first place.

I would imagine after the circus arc, burning the orphanage down.

Ciel would most likely be quite shaking up from both the fire and the fact that so many children dying inside.

The consequences are that Ciel would probably suffer from PTSD flashbacks for quite some time.

Like the day the manor was burning down and he was a child when he watched his own brother die by his side.

The kids being kidnapped and resulted in dying helplessly reminded him of him and his brother.

This can lead to days and days of nightmares, maybe even night terrors, sunken appetite, tense body, trembling here and there.

It can also be followed with more snappy personality, everything is just worse than how it used to be.

The servants can clearly see that their master who they thought had a bit improvement since the Christmas (Indian Butler Arc) went back, perhaps even worse than before.

You know what they say. “One step forward, three steps back”

Now I would imagine Sebastian quite successfully can get Ciel to get over this. Perhaps with some struggle here and there when Ciel refuses to open up or refuses to eat.

Ciel would be too shaken up to consider telling anyone about his problems, but the lingering bitter taste of getting so shaken up is still fresh in his mouth.

It is only so much a human can bare, especially a 13 year old boy with the heavy responsibility of earldom and Funtom Corporation.

Now that things are a bit better again,

There comes the second hit.

It’s how mental issues work, just as you thought you were getting better, they laugh at your face and say “you thought”.

Now, in the Phantomhive Manor Murders arc, is when it strikes Ciel the second time.

Murder is nothing new to Ciel by any chance of course.

But what strikes chills down his spine and tensing up his body like he was just poured with a bucket of ice water is, the thought of a killer is lurking around his manor and watching him and the people trying to catch the murderer.

Sends him back to the time where his own house was burning down and his parents’ death.

Also just the thought of someone watching him in his own manor, a place he thought was safer than the world outside, protected by the servants and Sebastian is no longer safe until they catch the murderer

Even though he doesn’t act upon it and keep his cold and collected expression on the inside, there’s only so much a 13 child can do.

After everything has ended, best believe that he would be having a hard time again.

But since it is not as bad as last time, he would not react upon it much, letting it bottle up inside.

The THIRD time it happens, Ciel finally snaps.

I mean literally go batshit crazy

It was the Luxury Liner arc/Book of Atlantic.

The whole idea of bringing people back to life is messed up, and then having a whole zombie apocalypse while your butler also get heavily injured, blood everywhere etc.

It’s going to be in his mind for quite a while.

Flashbacks and even hallucinations will be his new everyday thing.

Seeing his brother's face on those corpses on the Campania, whether it is him coming back to life again or dying all over again.

Then there's also flashback of the real Ciel being sacrificed and dying on that stone table with blood all over.

Ciel would be severely affected this time.

Perhaps worse than usual. Even so disturbing that he simply fears even going to sleep, days of sitting in his study with his nose buried in paperwork of Funtom Corporation to avoid thinking about it.

FINALLY for the scene you have been waiting for.

Not long after the Campania, the Midford family came to visit to make sure Ciel is doing good.

(cause the scenes were pretty traumatic you know-)

They were greeted with Sebastian as usual, but when they asked for Ciel, the Midford family was greeted with short but uncomfortable silence

Before Sebastian started to fish out one of his well fabricated lies, the loud, grumpier than usual call from Ciel sounded from his study.

This lead the Midford family to definitely believe that there was something wrong with Ciel after the Campania.

When they rushed up to Ciel's study, ignoring Sebastian's attempts of convincing Midfords to let him handle it.

They were certainly not ready to see the sight of a severely sleep deprived, trembling, thinner than usual, barely functioning Ciel sitting there on his desk compared to how "well collected" they usually see him.

Seeing the Midfords faces in front of his study sends Ciel into an unexpected panic attack, and thankfully Elizabeth and her family helps him to sort it out.

Both sides being quite shaken up about what just happened, leads Ciel to slip out about "It's all happening all over again", referring to the bloody scenes he had seen on the Campania and when his brother was sacrificed.

So one sentence leads to another as the Midfords keep questioning while Ciel is in this emotionally unstable time, leads to Ciel snapping at them while he just blurts everything out.

Like, everything.

Even as going into a rant about his trauma related things such as;

About witnessing the horrifying death of his own sibling dying,

How the Real Ciel must die in order for Sebastian to be summoned,

About feeling insecure that he was the sole survivor even tho he was the "lacking twin" compared to the Real Ciel,

Feeling guilty since the Real Ciel was Elizabeth's fiance and still the other Ciel survived,

And how he was the more timid and shy one instead of the Real Ciel, who resembled Vincent Phantomhive more than the other Ciel did.

How the Real Ciel would've most likely done better than the other Ciel if he was alive. Etc.

And the Midfords just listen quietly in absolute shock. (Maybe Elizabeth cried a few times- but BESIDES THAT-)

I think Alexis and Francis would be the most understanding in this situation being the pillar of support sort of.

Even tho Elizabeth would be really understanding as well, AFTER she processed the everything she just heard, I think she is someone that is supportive as well.

Even tho she would be grieving for the loss of her true fiance inside, in this situation she would be showing that hidden rather mature side of hers and be strong in front of Ciel.

But it might take Edward some time to eventually be supportive for Ciel.

It might take some time

But it will eventually happen. And he might even warm up a bit more than he usually did for Ciel.

Another thing is that the Midford family might not be taking action and report everything they just heard from Ciel.

Even if they want to, they understand that the situation is deeper than they think.

So they settle for talking this out with Ciel and Sebastian to form a plan for what's in for them in the future and how can the Midfords possibly help them in the future.

But other than that, I think the Midfords would be helping Ciel emotionally.

Which is also a very good way to show their support is genuine rather than just materialistic way of showing it.

#ciel phantomhive #black butler imagines #black butler #black butler headcanons #real ciel #black butler ciel

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

Amnesia (p2) | Draco x Reader

If you have not read part one, you can find it here!!

Prompt: After proper diagnosis and treatment, your Healer informs you that your amnesia has effected your most recent memories. These memories include your life as a upperclassman at Hogwarts, your knowledge and skills, and arguable the most important thing to you: your relationship with Draco. When Draco hears of your condition, he is overwhelmed and scared to say the least. You two are now strangers. What happens in Part Two of this multipart series?

Warnings: memory loss, nightmares, PTSD, anxiety, mentions of death

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: This part is a slow burn, but just trust me. Shit will hit the fan soon.

This story is not about romanticizing mental health issues. These are serious conditions and this story is not meant to romanticize or fantasize these topics. It’s used as a vessel to convey a different story. That being said, please take care of yourself and sending everyone lots of love. Thank you for coming back for part two :)

Flashbacks told in italics!

Draco watched you from the window that saw into your hospital room, his nerves and terror eating away inside of him. How was he supposed to keep calm when the love of his life almost died days ago and now does not remember a single detail of their relationship? He ran his hands through his matted platinum blonde hair before covering his face and letting out a sigh that was full of mixed emotions. He was going to fall apart in seconds if it were for your Healer passing by, so he could ask him questions about your recovery.

“So her memory is gone?” he frantically asks, pleading that the answer is no. That would just mean so much time and love and energy that you both had put into this relationship was being washed down the drain.

The Healer places a firm, yet reassuring hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Not gone,” he speaks as Draco lets out a breath he was holding. “Temporarily lost you can say. Her memories can come back to her in random spurts or all at once. The brain is very complicated and everyone reacts differently. It could take anywhere from two days to two weeks for her to remember. There are rare cases, but it is possible, that it could be a few months for her to recover,” the Healer tells Draco as Draco swallows hard.

If it was going to take you months to remember your relationship with Draco, the boy would go mad. He needed you to remember who he was and what your relationship was like so you could both move on and live the life you had planned when you were students at Hogwarts weeks before. Draco dreamt of what it would be like when you two finally got away from the chaos. He pictured you two settling down somewhere remote, in a cottage somewhere in the countryside, maybe out of England. He pictured you having a lot of land, somewhere you could both enjoy nature and its scenic views. He imagined you with your beaming smile in one of your favorite sundresses, laying in the grass, reading a book whilst you laid your head in his lap. He would stroke your hair and watching you crinkle your nose as you laughed at something he said, him relishing in the regality of your beauty. He felt unworthy to look at something so rare and so beautifully genuine.

Draco snaps back into reality from his daydream and speaks, “Are you sure there isn’t a charm or spell of some sort that you could use to jog her memory? Do muggles have something that you could possibly use?” Draco was desperate for an answer, a sign, a solution, something.

The Healer just smiles lightly and shakes his head. “If there was, my boy, we would have used it,” he tells him. “I’m sorry you two are going through this. I can imagine it is hard for you, but just imagine how difficult it is for her. The best thing you can do for her right now is be there for her. When she remembers, I have no doubt that your relationship will be stronger than ever.”

-------

And so Draco was there for you. Even though visitor’s hours were over, Draco stayed in the waiting room in case anything happened. Not even your parents did this. Your parents went home and told you they would be back in the morning, confident that you were in good hands with the Healers. Draco could never be too sure. You could remember him overnight and desperately need him. You could remember something about Hogwarts and need answers, to which he would be right at your side. So in the waiting room he stayed, waiting in case you needed anything.

The ex-Slytherin prince was exhausted to say the least. He hadn’t slept since the battle, too afraid to close his eyes and see what his mind conjured. He feared he would see the eyes of his father, burning into him full of anger and disgust; his only child, his only son, betraying the family to run off with some girl. Draco feared he would see the eyes of the Dark Lord although he was dead, he feared he would find his way into Draco’s mind and into his dreams. Draco didn’t even want to think about if he saw his mother in his dreams. How he abandoned her, leaving her alone to her own devices. Worst of all, Draco knew that in his nightmares he would see you, getting hurt, pulled away from him as he clawed at his father to let him go. Draco knew he would see your limp body, bloody and frail as they carried you away to a medic. He couldn’t face his dreams; they were far too scarier than his reality.

Exhaustion pulsated throughout your body before your heavy eyelids fell, you immediately falling asleep with the help of the pain potion given to you. Today was overwhelming for you; too much has happened for your brain to process adequately. You were relieved to see your parents and Ron and Hermione, but now your diagnosis and this whole Draco situation just made things worse than you had expected. How could you just forget a whole relationship with someone that had lasted almost two years? It just didn’t seem or feel real.

You were peacefully asleep, but that’s when your dreams started for the night. Although your body was at peace, your mind raced. In your dreams, you saw flashes of fire, the screams of people echoing in the halls. Stones and rubble were all around you, bodies, dead and alive, all around. Panic entered your veins as you felt your heart sink. You’re running as fast as your legs can allow you. The taste of iron is in your mouth as you scream, your lungs burning and hot tears running down your face. You’re screaming for someone, but the words don’t come out. It’s just a scream. Chaos is growing around you as see people who you once knew die before you in the matter of seconds. Somehow you cannot control yourself in your dream as you try to run over to your friends in need, but your legs are planted. You have become stone. You see Ron from across the hall and you want to run to him, knowing that he’ll keep you safe. He’ll protect you from whatever was happening.

But before you can run to Ron, your body pulls you in the opposite direction. You want to call out for Ron, but his name doesn’t come out. Instead, your screaming something else, but you can’t make out what. Before you can even register where you are going, you look above you and see a large boulder, making its way down to crash down on you.

And that’s when you scream. The sound is rippling through your body as you sit up straight in your bed, eyes darting open. You stop screaming when you realize it was all a dream, a nightmare rather. Why did it all feel real? The pain in your head is creeping back up as your brain throbs as you catch your breath. Your heart is beating through your chest as sweat slowly drips down your temples. Hot and cold flashes ripple through your body as you clinch onto the white hospital sheets for dear life. Frantically, you look around the room to see if anyone was around you to come to your rescue. Were your parents still here? Ron? Anyone?

In that instant, the door flings open and there was the boy you were supposed to be in love with, his blonde hair pushed in front of his face, a panicked look in his eyes.

When Draco heard the scream, he knew it was you in an instant. He could recognize your voice easily, whether it was in joy or in pain. Draco knew you better than he knew himself. His heart sunk to his stomach at your cry and he leaped to his feet. The worst thoughts came to his mind, thinking that something awful had happened to you. Did someone come into your room and try to attack you? Was he not dead? Was it his father?

Before he could answer any of these questions, he had practically knocked the door down just to see you sitting up straight in bed, your face covered in panic, horror, and sadness. The sight was gut wrenching. Draco wanted to run to your side, pepper your face in kisses, stroke your hair with his fingers, and tell you that he was right beside you and going nowhere; he would be there to protect you. But instead of doing so, in fear of frightening you more in your vulnerable moment, he just makes his presence known.

“Are you alright?” he asks, gently and slowly, still half standing in the doorway, half in the room in case you asked him to leave.

You take a look at the boy in front of you and wondered why he was still here in the first place. It was the middle of the night; not even your parents were here. Why did a boy you barely knew decide to stay here overnight? You don’t entertain the thought any further. “Bad dream,” you simply tell him, rubbing your eyes.

Draco understood, there was no need to ask you any further questions. He knew that you needed time and space. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you further.

Out of curiosity, you ask him, “What are you still doing here? It’s late.”

Draco sighs, “Uh, I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. That if you needed anything someone would be here for you. Besides, I don’t have anywhere to go...” he trails off the last sentence sadly. He ran away from his mother, there was no home for Draco right now. He was alone. And without you? He was more alone than ever before.

You both look at each other for a few moments, breathing the moment in through your nose and out of your mouths. You took the time to really take a good look at Draco. He looked exhausted; heavy bags under his eyes that pulled all the way down to the tops of his cheekbones. His hair flopped lazily in front of his face. As sad as he looked, there was something almost angelic about him in this moment. The medic lights that flickered over his head dully almost made a halo above his head as he stared upon you with the most loving, sad expression you have ever seen. You could see how a previous version of yourself fell in love. He was undeniably handsome and there was something that was absolutely magnetic about him. You wanted to be around him for some reason.

Draco interrupts your thoughts, “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

He tries to slither out of the door before you stop him, not even register what you are saying until the words fall out of your mouth.

“Stay with me,” you call to him, rather than asking him like you would have preferred.

He stops dead in his tracks and turns to you, a confused expression on his face. Did you remember him? Was this your way of telling him?

You inhale, “I just don’t want to be alone.” It was true, you didn’t want to be alone again with you and your nightmares in fear it would attack again when you closed your eyes. “My dreams are scary,” you confess. “They seem real.”

In that moment Draco knew that the dreams you were having weren’t really dreams; they were flashbacks. He had them too when he closed his eyes. Draco knew exactly what you saw and there was no need to explain. He was just happy that you asked him to stay with you. “Of course,” he gives you a small smile, preventing a larger one from appearing on his tired face.

Draco slowly closes the door behind him before making his way to the chair near your bedside. He sits in the chair slowly and offers you a small smile. You return one to him with a small sigh. You wanted to go to sleep, but also were afraid of what you would see again. Would you dream of the same thing again? Or something worse? Would this happen all the time?

You watch the ceiling for a few moments before speaking to Draco, “I’m afraid of closing my eyes.” You turn to him to watch his reaction and he gives you a sympathetic look.

“I am, too,” he confesses. “I see old memories that replay in my head. Horrible things. Things I did, things I bore witness to, things I tried to stop...” he looks at you sadly. It was like you both understood where the other came from. There was an unspeakable understanding that just reassured the other that they were not alone. Although you don’t remember much of Malfoy besides the limited encounters with him, you can’t help but feel bad for him. He had obviously been fighting something and you wished that it would leave him alone. “Did you want to talk about what you saw?” he asked you. You shook your head and he gave you a smile. “That’s alright. You should try and fall asleep at least. You are in recovery from a nasty injury, let’s not forget that,” he teases as you smile. He loved your smile.

You lay back a little further in your bed relaxing. “Malfoy?” you ask as Draco’s ears perk up to his name being dropped from your lips. “Were we in love?” you ask, surprising him and yourself. But if you were going to remember the boy, you had to know if you loved him.

Draco thought to himself, Were we in love? As much as I breathe. But he doesn’t say that. “We were,” he smiles lightly at the memory when you would look at him with love glistening in your eyes, brushing his hair with your fingers as he would pull you in close by your hips, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. The boy loved you with every fiber in his being. “Madly,” he adds with a laugh.

As he says that, your curiosity peaks. You two must have had a beautiful relationship if he claimed you were madly in love. That was not a light statement. Without further consideration, you ask him, “Can you tell me the story? Of how we fell in love?” Draco’s eyes widen when he looks at you. “It’ll help jog my memory...I also just want to know,” you tease, making him laugh. His laugh made goosebumps appear on your forearms.

Where to start, Draco thinks. He could tell you about the story of the moment he knew that he wanted to make you his, your first date, when he asked you to be his girlfriend, the moment he told you that he loved you for the first time. There were so many good memories that he had of the two of you, it was hard to choose just one. “How about this,” he proposes, “I’ll start wherever you don’t remember. With each day, I’ll tell you a new story.”

His proposition made you smile. It seemed promising. “How do I know I’ll see you every day for a new story?” you ask, raising your brows.

Your expression made Draco smile. That teasing little smile that played on your lips was one he was so fond of. “I’ll make sure of it. That’s a promise,” he tells you. “Pinky promise.” He sticks out his left pinky finger as you loop yours with his, squeezing it. Instinctively, you kiss your thumb and Draco does the same. Your eyes widen, shocked that he did the same thing as you. You would kiss your thumb after a pinky promise ever since you were a child with your mum. As if he read your thoughts, Draco said, “I remember a lot of things, (Y/N). We also used to do that a lot.”

His words bring a smile to your face as you let go and giggle at the boy in the chair. “Alright, let me think,” you state. You scan your memory for what you remember of Draco. You remember meeting him that first night you arrived to Hogwarts when he made fun of you of being friends with Ron, you remember him teasing you in your charms class because you came to class with bedhead, running late, you remember sitting next to him at the Triwizard Tournament and stomping on his foot when he said he wished the dragon got Harry, you remember when Umbridge busted you and your friends for learning defensive magic and Draco being the first person you saw when you exited the room of requirement. “The last thing I remember was when Umbridge busted Harry and all of us for learning defensive magic behind her back. You were there and you made a comment at me. I remember being mad about it and you stood a smirked at me,” you push his arm.

Draco laughs, “Sounds about right.” You roll your eyes, turning your body gently to face Draco before he began the story. Draco had to stop himself from getting distracted at the way you looked at him, excitement in your eyes as he started his story. Your wispy pieces of hair floated over your head like a fuzzy halo, his heart fluttered at the sight. Merlin, I love you, he thought to himself. “Alright, let’s see,” he starts.

After being busted by Umbridge, you were under high surveillance. Not much to do for fun around Hogwarts anymore. No more gatherings after a certain time, no common room study sessions, the library closed after a particular hour, and not to mention boys and girls had to be separated by 8 feet. How was anyone supposed to have fun outside of academia anymore? Even Hermione belly ached about how bored she was.

You should have expected your secret meetings to have been busted. When you heard that Umbridge had rodeoed a select few students to be on a watch patrol, you knew that their leader, Draco Malfoy, would go to the ends of the Earth if it meant busting Harry Potter. You wondered if the boy really found joy in being a dickhead to people. Although the conversations you had with Draco were limited, you could tell that some of it was a show that he put on for his other Slytherin friends. It’s like they expected him to be an arse before they even met him. Regardless, the point was that Draco was always blunt and rude around you and his company was not your preferred company.

In the library, there you were, sat at a small table during your off period, scribbling some answers down to some last minute Potions homework that you knew if you didn’t get done, Snape would have your head on a silver plate. As you scribble down your answers in a frantic fury, you don’t even notice Malfoy enter the library, his sightline going straight to you. He smiled when he saw you sitting at the table, immersed in your work, hands pulling at your own hair gently. You were a sight for sore eyes. Draco always took notice of you at Hogwarts, he just never made a move because you never left the damned Gryffindor common room.

You didn’t even notice Draco in front of you until he hovered above you, startling you. “Merlin, Malfoy,” you jump. “What do you want? And stay eight feet away, you git. I don’t need to get into more trouble with Umbridge. You have already done enough damage,” you sneer at him.

Draco thought it was adorable when you were cross. “I came to ask you out,” he simply states. He doesn’t explain himself further. He just sits beside you at the table in the library, a smug grin on his face like you said yes to his proposition.

“What makes you think that I would want to go out with someone like you,” venom drips from your cherry flavored lips as Draco smirks. Your words did nothing to him. Oh, how that would change very quickly. “You’ve been nothing but cruel to me and my friends and now, all of a sudden you want to ask me on a date? You’re out of your bloody mind.” You continue to finish your Potions homework before Draco plucks the textbook from underneath you.

Before you can protest to his actions, he speaks, “Someone like me? And what would that be? Handsome, charming, intelligent, and funny? Sounds like a real bore,” he jokes. Merlin, he had a big head. “Not to mention, this hasn’t come all of a sudden. I’ve had my eyes on you for a while, (Y/L/N). I just haven’t mustered up the courage to ask you out properly. So here I am,” he leans on his elbow on the table, a shit eating grin on his face that you would love to smack off. “I need an answer, darling. Or else Professor Snape’s homework will just have to wait...”

You roll your eyes, “The answer you’re looking for is not the one you desire. Besides, even if I said yes, what would we even do? It’s not like we have any freedom here. We’re under constant watch.”

Draco laughs at your naiveté. “I thought you were brighter than this, (Y/L/N). I have my tricks. You can get away with a lot when you’re a Malfoy,” he pushes a strand of hair out of your face as he said this, you slapping it away as he does so. “Play nice,” he teases. “Your homework is on the line.”

Anger bubbled in your stomach, but for some reason his argument seemed to be compelling. What did he have planned? “What exactly are you thinking of doing, Malfoy?” you lean in, teasing him further as he smiles, thinking he’s won. Instead, you just pluck your textbook back from his hands, smiling as you do so. You beat him at his own game. This just made the boy more enthralled with you.

“Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, darling,” he speaks. “So, I take it you’re interested?” he asks, wiggling his brows.

You really hated to admit that you were interested in his offer, curiosity getting the best of you, as it usually did. You huff, brush your hair to one side. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” you admit, a smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. This was so unlike you.

Draco let a chuckle escape from his lips. “Brilliant. 7pm. Stay in the Gryffindor common room. I’ll come to you. I’ll see you then, kitten,” he purrs, leaving just as quickly as he came.

As Draco wraps up the story, you stare in disbelief. “There was no way I fell for that line,” you tell him, sitting up from your position in your hospital bed. “I really said yes to that cheese ball line?”

“How could you not?” he retorts. “I’m suave,” he jokes, making you laugh as you threw your head back. The sight of you laughing was enough to melt every single one of Draco’s fears. The way your nose crinkled as you laugh, your eyes squeezed shut, melodious laughter falling from your parted lips. “You’re beautiful when you laugh,” he tells you, unable to hold back his thoughts. That was Draco’s weakness. He could never lie to you. He always told you what he was thinking. It was his best quality and yet his downfall.

His compliment makes you blush and look away from him. You weren’t uncomfortable from the comment, but you were just taken aback. Draco was someone who you barely remembered, yet you had such visceral reactions when you were with him. He brought you confusion and comfort that was oddly satisfying. You decide to change the subject. “So tell me about our first date. What did you end up doing that was so spectacular that make me stay?” you ask through a large yawn.

Draco smiles as you cover your mouth, you were obviously exhausted. “I said one story a day, you sneak,” he smiles at you. “Besides, I don’t think you would be awake for the most of it. You look exhausted. I think you should get some rest,” he rises from the chair. He was right. You were even more exhausted than you were before. You pull the covers back over your body, cuddling into the thin sheets. Draco watches as you get settled in your bed, gently smiling at how you pulled the sheet all the way up to your chin like you always did before bed. He remembers how you would always sneak into his bed at Hogwarts; you always preferred his silk sheets to your cotton ones. “Sweet dreams, (Y/N).”

The platinum blonde boy walks to the door before a thought intrudes your mind. What was the harm in speaking it? “Draco?” you call his name cautiously. He turns around to face you, eyebrows raised. You slowly pull the sheets open. “Do you wanna sleep next to me?” you ask slowly, treading lightly. You gave him the offer mostly because you felt bad about him having to sleep in a hospital waiting room until morning. Those chairs were wildly uncomfortable and no one should be forced to sleep there by themselves. But there was part of you that wanted Draco with you. There was an aura about him that reminded you of home. The way he could make you smile with just a dumb sentence was comforting. He felt familiar; like you could remember some pieces of him. Maybe if he stayed with you tonight, all the memories would come back. Maybe his touch would awaken something in you.

At the offer, Draco wanted to scream yes and climb into bed with you, snuggled next to your side, breathing in your all too familiar scent. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you. He had to tread lightly, make sure that you were comfortable. “Are you sure?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know if that was alright. “I can just stay in the waiting room, it really is no problem.”

You shake your head. “I’m positive...I want you to stay with me,” you tell him. “I could be rushing it or I could be crazy, but I think that maybe you staying with me might be helpful...for my memory.”

How could Draco argue with that logic? He smiled and closed the door, trying to hide his excitement. He took off his patent leather shoes and peeling off his blazer, getting himself comfortable before climbing next to you in bed. The hospital bed was arguable just as uncomfortable as the waiting room chairs in Draco’s opinion, but you in bed with him made it all better. Draco slid one arm carefully around your shoulder as to not disturb any painful areas. Although the gesture should have been romantic or comforting, it just felt awkward.

You both just laid there for a moment, awkwardly laying before you give in to his touch, resting your head on his chest. Within an instant, the two of you let out a breath that you were holding in, melting into each other’s touch. This position of you resting on his chest, hearing his heartbeat made something inside you click. It did feel familiar. Something about it was familiar.

The two of you don’t speak any words to each other. You both lay there, waiting for the other to say something. But no one says anything. What is there to be said? You allow yourself to slowly fall asleep to the slow drum of Draco’s heartbeat in your ear through his chest as Draco follows only after you are sound asleep. He knew that he could sleep once you were.

-----

As you drift back off into sleep, another dream kicks back in. This one not nearly as horrifying as the last. In fact, it was quite endearing. You aren’t at Hogwarts. You’re somewhere else. Someone’s home. It’s not yours, that’s for sure. The house was smaller, but had a large winding staircase. It isn’t until you hear multiple voices in your head that you instantly recognize where you are. It was undeniably the Burrow. Weasley’s. A smile forms on your face when you recognize your surroundings.

In this dream of a memory, it’s Christmas time. Molly Weasley in the kitchen, cooking, something delicious smelling of sage and rosemary. Fred and George are in the backyard, building what looks like a fort of some kind, their efforts failing miserably when Ginny runs into the fort, causing it to fall down. A giggle escapes your lips.

You walk further around the house and recognize it more and more with every step. The Weasley home felt like a second home to you. So much so that Molly knew how to cook your eggs and knew the difference between yours and Ginny’s uniforms and Arthur had put a coat hanger in the side hall for you when you were over. You were here almost as often as your own childhood home. Your parents travelled a lot for work and you spent Christmas at Burrow maybe two or three times. This year was undeniably when you were in year four with Ron. You know it to be so because of Ron’s horrid haircut that you teased him about that whole year.

As if one cue, Ron appears and pulls you to the other room and suddenly you are on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. Ron is telling you about a prank that George had planted in Percy’s room for when he came home. You have the feeling of undeniable joy in your chest and your cheeks hurt from smiling. Have you ever had this feeling before? The two of you were laughing at the other and expressing your joy and excitement for the holiday, focusing on the company of the other. You loved spending Christmas with the Weasleys because you knew that you would have more time to bond with Ron. Ron was your first friend at Hogwarts and he was the one who introduced you to Hermione and Harry. Ron was the one to push you to go after what you wanted. Ron was your best friend and other half. Undeniably.

In this dream, Ron looks at you in your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face and says, “I am so glad you’re here for Christmas. It makes things so much better.” He pulls you into a tight hug and kisses your forehead. “I love you.”

Before you can process the words, you speak out, “I love you more, Weasley.”

Your eyes shoot open and you slowly sit up. You were all kinds of confused. Ron Weasley? He was your best friend, sure, but the feeling you got during the dream was not one that a best friend should have. Your face was flushed, cheeks a bright shade of red. Were you blushing? Your heart beat was racing and your mouth was dry. The image of Ron smiling at you, his arm around your shoulder sticks out in your mind. Him saying I love you plays on repeat like a broken record. What was happening? This went against everything you knew and what people told you you were supposed to feel? Ron wasn’t your boyfriend; Draco was.

Draco.

You look next to you to see Draco still peacefully asleep, lips parting that allowed light snores to escape. His arm was still draped around your figure which you once found comforting, but now you found alarming. Careful not to wake him up, you peel his arm from around you and onto his lap. His touch now was now foreign. How did this all take a 360 within a few hours?

Casting the thoughts out of your brain, you turn over to the other side of the small bed, back to Draco, trying to fall back asleep, hoping that Draco didn’t notice the change of position. You let your heavy eyelids bring you to sleep, but unbeknownst to you, Draco does notice that you are no longer peacefully asleep on his chest. But he doesn’t say anything. Disappointed, he just takes note of it and closes his eyes, but he can’t fall asleep.

-------

The morning light streams in just as quickly as it left and gently wakes you up. The light hurts your head and makes you wince in pain, softly clutching your head. You sit up slowly and rub your eyes with the heel of your free hand, trying to rid the sleep from your eyes. As you let your eyes focus again, you see Draco is sitting in the chair beside your bed like he was like night, trying his shoes. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he smiles at you. You let out a groggy morning. “The Healer left you another pain potion for this morning. He said to take it as soon as you wake up and then you are good to be discharged and go home,” Draco reports.

The thought of going home made you excited, but nervous. Home was always nice and being your parents at a time like this was definitely something you needed. However, your childhood home didn’t feel like much of a home after your time at Hogwarts, especially since your parents were always traveling and were rarely home even on holidays. If anything, home meant going back to Hogwarts or alternatively going back to the Burrow with the Weasleys...

Shaking your head, you return yourself to the current conversation. “Sounds great,” you smile and take the pain potion from off the nightstand, drinking from the small vile, contorting your face in disgust after, the fowl taste lingering on your tongue. Draco laughs as you do so. “I hate the taste,” you blush, wiping your mouth. “Are my parents here to pick me up?” you ask Draco.

“I’m not sure,” he says. “I can check with the Healer and see if your parents called or not. If not, I can always take you home. I have no problem seeing that you get back safely,” he offers with a gentle smile as you nod. “Great,” he breathes out. “Let me check for you.”

Draco moves to the door and opens it up only to reveal Ron Weasley standing there, fresh eyed and with a small smile on his face that fades when his eyes land on Draco’s. “Weasley,” Draco greets. “I was just going to grab the Healer. (Y/N)’s been discharged.”

Ron shakes his head, “I know. I’m here to pick her up.” Ron glances to you and smiles before sending you a wink. Your heart stops in your chest and your eyes widen. Something that was a friendly gesture between you and Ron now has new meaning after last night’s dream/memory. What was going on?

Interrupting your thoughts, Draco looks to Ron and says, “You’re picking up, (Y/N)? Where are her parents?”

“Is there a problem with me picking (Y/N) up? I’m her best mate after all. Plus, her parents asked me if I could whilst they dealt with preparing her room and treatments for her arrival home,” Ron pushes past Draco and straight to you. “Morning, darling. I have fresh clothes for you and your mum is making breakfast for you back at your house. Ready?”

You look back and forth between Ron and Draco and the tension between the two is palpable. You thought that Draco and Harry had problems? This was another level. “Um, yeah, I guess so,” you reply to Ron while looking at Draco who shakes his head, understanding completely. Your parents had sent Ron for you. You didn’t need Draco. Draco just gives you a small smile before walking to the door. “Wait, Draco,” you call for him like you did last night. “I’ll see you again, right? You owe me a story,” you gently smile.

Draco lets a pink hue reach his cheeks. “You’ll see me again, darling. I promise,” he tells you. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, this directed toward Ron this time. “Until then, love,” he winks at you before walking out of the room and down the hospital corridor.

Of course, Draco wished he could be the one taking you home from the hospital. He wanted to be with you every step of the way on your recovery. Draco wanted to hold your hand and guide you through every bump in the road. But if this is what you wanted, he had to respect that. He would have his time. He was sure of it. You would come around.

Meanwhile, you changed in the bathroom into the fresh clothes Ron had brought with him. The soft cotton of your clothes made you sigh in relief, it was so much better than that itchy hospital gown. You emerge from the bathroom, straightening out your hoodie before breathing out, “Let’s go home.”

“Brilliant,” Ron beams, guiding you out of the room, his hand on the small of your back. The action makes you gasp a little bit, but you eventually relax and calm yourself down. It’s a friendly thing, (Y/N). Merlin.

The two of you exit in the hospital, leaving behind all of your fears and worries, ready to face whatever obstacle with a newfound confidence. As you climb into the car, Ron starts it and drives away from the hospital, the radio playing whatever muggle music the channel had to offer. The car ride is mostly quiet except for a few exchanges, but that’s when you notice Ron isn’t taking you back to your childhood home. Rather, you are going somewhere else.

“Ronald Weasley,” you furrow your brows. “This isn’t the way home to my parent’s house...where are you taking me?”

Ron doesn’t hide the cheeky grin from his face. “We’re going home alright,” he laughs. “Just my house.”

The Burrow. Merlin, help you.

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littlestarlost · 4 years

Text

what happened.

All this hunger is Always following us Out where we survive under poisonous skies They’re dreaming, but nobody’s sleeping Just coked hearts speeding See all the gold teeth gleaming See all the young, healthy free men Just move into nothing

(CW: discussion of mental health, trauma, PTSD)

A version of this post has been sitting in my drafts folder for ten months. I know this, because I originally began to write it around late January, just in time for the one-year mark to have passed since I’d last updated Setting Sun. When I posted that most recent update, I had just turned 30 years old, and I promised that it would not be another year before the next update. I wanted, so badly, for that to be true. In hindsight, it’s honestly better that I failed to keep that promise; I fear it might have exacerbated the damage that’s already been done, and made the healing process that much harder.

It’s been nearly two years. I want to talk about what happened.

I first began to write about Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov because I recognized myself so keenly in them; Yuuri’s high-achieving anxiety and imposter syndrome, and Victor’s quietly functional depression. When I found YOI, I was in grad school; I was winning awards, the top of my class, and utterly terrified that it was all a sham. Being able to channel those emotions through these characters helped me realize my own greatness, to embody it and walk with confidence and bravado. It allowed me to go into my post-degree job search with my head held high, trusting that all the lessons I had learned would lead me to professional success. Yuuri and Victor walked through life with me, two shadows of my own psyche, two people who helped me understand myself.

The first few months of the job were fine. Then things became less than fine, and then continued to descend into the kind of mundane nightmare that only multinational corporate legal firms could manifest. Setting Sun, a story about love and self-acceptance and joy, began to twist around in on itself. I don’t want to go into detail, but suffice to say that I spent nearly two years being gaslit and abused, told I was worthless, constantly having panic attacks as I desperately tried to exert control over things that were way over my head. My body betrayed me; I was in so much pain I couldn’t walk, so stressed I couldn’t bring myself to eat unless I’d smoked weed to calm the nausea. I began to believe that I had peaked in grad school, that I was fooling myself, that I was going to be trapped in that cubicle for the rest of my life, doing grunt work without challenge or interest, in the kind of workplace where you get reported to HR for sighing too loudly. That is a thing that actually fucking happened to me; nobody asked why I might be sighing, and nobody stopped by to check in when I spent most days in tears. This was a place where less than half the people in the room put up their hands when asked if they had ever been creative as kids. This was a place where I almost never got to see the sun.

Because I was massively overqualified and even more massively underworked, I spent a lot of 2018 writing fanfic--my zine pieces, my zutara pieces, all sorts of creative things. I also began to write horror AUs; two stories, in particular, gained a fair amount of traction on this particular platform. When I look back now, I see them for the coping mechanisms that they were; in the case of the crossroads AU, where Yuuri is willing to sell his soul to the devil just to escape his commute, it wasn’t even particularly subtle. I poured all my energy into creative pursuits; it’s been my outlet my whole life, and for a while it helped. By the time I hit the SCP-9874 AU, I burned out so profoundly and utterly that it destroyed my relationship to YOI and cauterized the pieces. SCP-9874 was one of the most creative things I’ve ever done, but it also involved what is, in hindsight, a shocking level of violence and horror inflicted on these characters who were such a close part of me. I was doing this to them because I was hurting, all the time. I now recognize it as the cry for help that it was, and to this day I fantasize about taking down all the SCP-9874 posts and excising that portion of my legacy as much as possible.

I wrote Setting Sun’s 21st chapter in honour of my 30th birthday, in late January of 2019. Somehow, at the time, I didn’t realize how rough it was. How much it implied about me and how I was doing. How much it reflected the true extent of the damage I was suffering. I left Victor and Yuuri in an abandoned apartment with more questions than answers and more regrets than they or I had ever thought possible, and I thought, somehow, that this was a good turning point. Little did I know at the time that the worst was still to come.

I was able to finally escape that toxic office last October, when I found a new job that paid nearly double and was everything I wanted to do in life and more. But Yuri on Ice hurt too much to think about, even as time marched forward and I began to heal. I had PTSD flashbacks to the old office; I dealt with echo upon echo of terror that everything would fall away to reveal I was trapped in the same old nightmare again. In January 2020, I actually took a few days off for my birthday and reread Setting Sun from the beginning, and I’d somehow forgotten how funny it is, how sweet it is, how hopeful. I had completely forgotten; it had been burned away by twenty months of agony. That realization hurt more than all the other ones put together, I think. I had a good long cry over that.

Fast forward to now, and people have started to find Setting Sun again. They’ve found it on and off in the months since I updated, and for a very long time I would read the truly lovely comments people wrote--thanking me for writing it, hoping I’d come back someday, wishing me well wherever I was--and I would dissolve into tears because I just...couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to go back to this story that I could no longer recognize myself in. And nowadays, when new commenters come, I will warn them about that last chapter I wrote, because I can recognize it as the outlier it is.

But something has very recently changed.

I couldn’t necessarily tell you exactly what. Maybe it’s that I passed the one-year mark at my new job, and the last of the poison has finally been excised. Maybe it’s because I’m looking at all my writing with new eyes as I prepare to try doing this for a living. Maybe it’s because it’s 2020, and the rules aren’t really relevant anymore. I don’t know. But I can say that, two weekends ago, I opened Setting Sun, and realized that it didn’t seem impossible anymore. I realized that the boys had been through more than enough. We’ve been through more than enough. We deserve the happy ending I always planned to give them, going back four whole years when I first planned out this massive weird tale.

It’s been a very long time. It’s been exactly long enough.

I can’t promise exactly when the final chapter of Setting Sun will arrive. I’m walking back onto previously thin ice, and my footsteps are more than a little hesitant, so as not to cause any undue cracks. But I can remember the joy and humour and fun again; I can conceive of jokes and silliness and sweetness again. My playlist is filling up again, with songs of hope and love instead of anguish and sorrow. The Yuuri and Victor who sit inside my heart are skating; the music is carrying them, the wind is rushing past their ears, their feet feel light again and they want to jump and take flight and make beautiful things.

I have bookended this post with lyrics from a song that’s been on the maybe list for Setting Sun for nearly as long as Setting Sun has existed. It’s a song I love quite profoundly, a song that means a lot to me personally, but I could never manage to make it fit. It’s a song about running away to the big bright city, about being broken on the world’s wheel, and about realizing you just want to go home. It’s a song that’s ostensibly about the tragedy of this process, but right now I’m sitting at my desk, listening to the line I, I, I wanna go back, back, back, back, with grateful tears running down my face, and I’m realizing that it’s not part of Yuuri’s story, nor Victor’s; it’s part of mine. Home may never be the same as when you left, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t waiting for you with open arms.

So that’s what happened.

Put my body on a wagon And carry me off to the ocean Let me float on into the eastern sun Out where tomorrow has just begun Where I used to be wild, back in my time Now I just fight to sleep at night So render me up into the elements Lay me in a light that I can trust Lay me in a light that I can trust Lay me in a light that I come from...

(Gold Teeth, by Hey Rosetta!)

#personal #yuri on ice #writing #minimally edited

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scandalsavagefanfic · 5 years

Note

Holy shit that last chapter of we’re all the god’s playthings was SO FREAKING GOOD!!! I especially loved the little detail about how jason, dick, and slade can sort of experience what each other is feeling because angst is my bread and butter and I’m now enjoying fantasizing about some scenario in which jason is having a ptsd type nightmare/flashback about his experiences at the hands of slade/dick, and slade/dick being forced to experience first hand the terror and pain they caused XD

Thank you darling!!!

The fact that they can feel each other’s emotions is super important. It’s a big part of why Jason is able to kind of table his own personal pain and focus on the bigger picture. He’s more worried about the gods treating others the way he’s been treated and not feeling guilty or acknowledging that it’s wrong because those people don’t happen to be gods. Knowing that they feel guilt and shame doesn’t excuse their actions, it doesn’t ease any of Jason’s pain, but it does give him hope that these immortal forces of nature who will be around for a long ass time, can learn and grow.

And you can bet that now that Nightwing and Deathstroke can feel his fear and anger towards them, that they are in for some rough nights. Especially the first time Tim and Jason decided to be intimate. Nightwing and Deathstroke will feel Jason’s terror and hopelessness as if it was their own, they’ll feel terrible for causing that and bend over backwards to change. But the first time Tim brings Jason genuine, reciprocated pleasure will be absolutely agonizing for them :D

There are plenty of ways to hurt people that aren’t physical. And Jason may be bound to them, but that just means their atonement will be an emotionally tedious journey :D

#fic commentary #WAtGP #thank you so much babe!

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years

Note

Hey, so it’s kind of specific in terms of requests, I’m sorry. But, uh, do you have any like fics where John can’t sleep or like just John angst to do with nightmares? And Sherlock helps out? Sorry it’s kinda specific

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: hey Steph! Do you have any angst fics with John and nightmares?’

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Any where Sherlock’s overwhelmed and John talks him down from like a full blown panic attack?

Hi Nonnies!

Not sure if these are all from the same person (the first two came a couple days apart, which I thought was rather coincidental, and the last one just a day or so ago) but I’ll put them together anyway!

Actually, I started a list an age ago, because I think someone asked me for it and I never posted it (mainly because 2 years ago I didn’t have my fics sorted as well as I do now, LOL). I’m going to give you both John and Sherlock fics, if that’s okay! I’ve sorted them with my PTSD and Panic Attack fics, since some of my fics have both in them as an aftermath to the nightmares, LOL. Hope you find something you’re looking for here!!

If any of y’all have your own fic, you know what to do :D

NIGHTMARES, PTSD, PANIC ATTACKS & MENTAL or EMOTIONAL TURMOIL

Voices by fizzingweaselbee (T, 607 w. || Angst, Mental Turmoil, Suicidal Ideations) – “We would never do that to John Watson.”

The Hollow Man by HHarris (G, 639 w. || John’s Chair, Introspection, Sherlock’s Big Feelings™, Post TRF, Angst, Emotional Turmoil, POV Sherlock, Pining / Sad Sherlock) – Still reeling from the apparent loss of his one and only friend, Sherlock returns to 221B for the first time after the events of The Reichenbach Fall.

Whispers in the Dark by coloured_ink (G, 833 w. || Bed Sharing, Anxious Sherlock, Anxiety, Caring John, Spooning, Little Spoon Sherlock) – Sherlock has anxiety attacks. Good thing John always knows what to do.

Possessive by Fang323 (T, 850 w. || John Whump, Hospitalization, Possessive / Protective Sherlock, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort) – His John did not belong. Not here. Not in this blasted hospital. It simply was not logical.

Burn Burn by Jenn1984 (K+, 925 w. || Post-TGG, Angst, Worried / Panicked / Possessive Sherlock) – A week after the events of “The Great Game”, Sherlock returns to 221B Baker Street to find it empty.

Mentality by Cumberbatch Critter (T, 1,350 w. || Friendship, Hurt / Comfort, THoB Fic, Doctor John) – It was weird. But Sherlock was having a panic attack. Re-write of the Hounds of the Baskerville scene.

Peaky by mattmetzger (K+, 1,404 w. || Friendship, Angst, PTSD/Nightmares) - A nightmare is nothing but a brain processing recent events, and having a bad light to do it in. It will run its course. So why can’t Sherlock just leave?

Might Be Stronger by Starlight05 (T, 1,801 w. || Angst, Friendship, Nightmares) - John isn’t the only one who has nightmares. When Sherlock returns, they bring him down, almost as far as he fell before. So the question is if he can find a way, after everything he has been through, to find hope again. Post-TRF one shot.

Quite Contrary by Hollyesque (T, 1,805 w. || HLV Fic, Sherlock Whump / After Mary Shot Sherlock, Hallucinations / Flashbacks / PTSD, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Lestrade POV, ) – A short one-shot, alternate scene to Greg’s hospital visit in HLV. Instead of Sherlock disappearing, Greg is faced with an unexpected reaction to a hospitalized Sherlock and winds up figuring out something that he really would have rather not known.

Personal Space by probablyquantum (T, 1,814 w. || Pre-Slash, Cuddles, Nightmares, Awkwardness) – John and Sherlock renegotiate the rules governing personal space. Pre-Slash.

Fractured by Starlight05 (K+, 1,865 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Unconscious Violence, Nightmares) - John has a nightmare, and Sherlock, worried, goes to help him, with consequences.

Tangential by Bitenomnom (NR, 2,047 w. || Ace Sherlock, Fluff and Love, Cuddles, Friendship, Sherlock is a Kept Man, Sherlock Divorces his Work, Nightmares) – In which John stitches up Sherlock’s head (but not really), Sherlock comes into John’s room at night to take his laptop (but not really), Sherlock is married to his Work (but not really), and John is more than proficient at keeping Sherlock (really, definitely). Part 48 of Mathematical Proof

In The Wake by Ambikai (K+, 2,057 w. || Post-THOB, H/C, Friendship, Nightmares/PTSD/Panic Attack, Bittersweet Ending) – After returning from Baskerville, Sherlock and John deal with the aftermath: unsure of where they sit with one another.

Feel your breathing by Mixxy (T, 2,129 w. || Post-TRF, Cuddling, Separation Anxiety, Platonics) – And he was numb yet feeling far too much, he was back on that pavement, and his mind was buzzing far too hard, whispering you didn’t do it in time, Mrs. Hudson is dead, Lestrade is dead, your John is dead dead dead- And then John’s hand was around his wrist, thumb rubbing over his pulse point, and Sherlock’s not sure if it was to comfort him or John but either way it worked.

The Case of the Missing Blogger by nicknack22 (K, 2,147 w. || Fluff, Humour, Friendship, Worried / Anxious Sherlock) – Alternately titled, The Case of the Oblivious Consulting Detective. In which Sherlock comes out of his mind palace to discover John missing. 221B does not fair well as a result.

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John’s danger days.

Not My Proudest Moment by charlock221 (K, 2,695 w. || Lunar New Year, Mild PTSD / Panic Attack, Coping Mechanisms, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort) – John tries his best not to get in the way of Sherlock’s cases, but when the vivid noises of fireworks unnerve his senses and begin to bring back unwanted memories of Afghanistan, he cannot help but to hope Sherlock will notice and help him before things go too far.

Turn the key, and come home by TooManyChoices (M, 2,718 w. || First Kiss / Time, Angst With a Happy Ending, Emotional Messes, Implied Sex, Angst and Humour, Bed Sharing, Post-TRF) – Sherlock and John have been dancing around what’s between them for years. Will John return to Baker Street, and if so, will things ever be the same?

In My Life (and dreams, you take my breath away) by Nina36 (NR, 2,847 w. || Post-TRF/TEH, Angst, Pining Sherlock) – The first time he had dreamt about John he had been in Peru. He had been “dead” a little over a month, squatting in a tiny rented room, the heat and the stains on the walls making him slightly claustrophobic. It had been a nice dream: John and he eating take away Chinese in their kitchen, a song coming from Mrs. Hudson’s radio downstairs, something about friends and lovers and how no one compared with him, his mind supplied in his dream.

After the Bombs by VampirePam (T, 3,337 w. || THoB AU, Drugs, John’s PTSD, Panic Attack, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock, Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – In which the drugs Sherlock used to dose John trigger a severe episode of PTSD. When terrors old and new cause John to fall apart, Sherlock must rectify his mistake and pick up the pieces.

Stay by msdisdain (M, 3,561 w. || First Kiss / Time, Angst / H/C, Bed Sharing, Nightmares, Blow Jobs, Anal) – John’s nightmares are nothing new. Sherlock’s inability to ignore them, however, is.

All That I Have by the_arc5 (M, 3,721 w. || Post-TGG Canon Divergence, Pining Sherlock, John Whump, Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Light Angst) – In the aftermath of the Great Game, Sherlock finds himself with a new weakness. John is both the cause and the cure.

Bitter Nights Turned Sweet by Hyliare (T, 4,076 w. || Pre-Slash, Insomnia/Hallucinations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Present Tense John Watson, Cuddling/Snuggling) – Sherlock has always had trouble sleeping; he hasn’t always had someone in his life willing to help.

Afghanistan in Baskerville by Amaya Ramiel (K+, 4,357 w. || THoB Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drugged John, PTSD / Panic Attack, Hallucinations, Worried Sherlock, John’s Past, Friendship) – What if John hadn’t seen the hound when Sherlock trapped him in the lab? What if instead, his very real nightmares of the war had materialized all around him? Trapped and drugged, John can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. How will Sherlock react?

Living In Fear by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 4,929 w. || H/C, Angst, Post-THoB, Nightmares/PTSD) – Missing Scene for Hounds of the Baskerville. John suffers from massive PTSD episodes upon their return from Dartmoor.

Bed-Sharing Between Flatmates by testosterone_tea (T, 5,053 w. || 5 and Ones, Bed Sharing, PTSD John, Science, Whump, Insecure Sherlock, Asexual Sherlock) – 5 times Sherlock had an excuse to share John’s bed, and the one time he didn’t need one.

21 - Draft Folder by distantstarlight (E, 5,604 w. || Post S4, Epistolary, References to PTSD, Depression, Healing, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is doing his best friend a favour by doing some routine maintenance on John’s laptop. While doing so he stumbles across a well-filled file folder. Part 21 of 31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017

No Light, No Light (in your bright blue eyes) by orphan_account (G, 5,915 w. || Angst, Pining, Songfic, Mutual Unrequited Love, Unresolved Tension, UST/URT) – Relates to both Sherlock’s and John’s feelings for each other and highlights select moments of hurt and inner turmoil starting from right before the fall all the way to HLV.

BANG by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 7,016 w. || Post-TGG AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Worried / Scared Sherlock, Alternating POV, Whump, Hospital Recovery, Open Ending) – ‘I should warn you,’ Sherlock says, his voice steady and his eyes fixed on Moriarty. ‘You are sadly misinformed.’ And he fires. Prequel to M Is For Moriarty

Survival Instinct by shirleyholmes (T, 7,162 w. || Post-TRF, First Kiss, Schmoop, Nightmares, Fluff & Angst, Grief, Idiots in Love) – After Sherlock’s “comeback” John starts obsessing with constantly making sure he’s alive (checking his heartbeat etc.)

Victim, Bait, Hero, Friend by KimberlyTheOwl (T, 7,887 w. || Post-TGG Epilogue, Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Past Kidnapping / Torture / Implied Rape, Panic Attacks, Worried / Possessive Sherlock, Lestrade is a Good Friend) – Some insights into why John was perfectly willing to throw everything away for a chance to kill Moriarty at the pool. Trauma, ugliness, and finally healing. Some nice supporting work by Lestrade as well.

Nightfall by CKLizzy (T, 8,001 w. || Nightmares, Graphic Desc. of Violence, H/C, Cuddling/Snuggling) – Awoken by nightmares, John and Sherlock seek each other’s company at night. They find more than either of them knew they were missing. Part 1 of Solace

Until I See the Sun by Vintage Tea Party (T, 8,194 w. || Nightmares, Mild Whump, Friendship, Mild Violence, Angst) – After a particularly dangerous case, John suffers from night terrors. Will Sherlock be able to comfort him? Will he be able to find out what is really troubling John?

We are all together alone by Mildredandbobbin (M, 10,461 w. || Mutual Pining, Implied Torture, PTSD, Child Loss, Post-S3) – John is back at 221B but his relationship with Sherlock is not what it used to be.

The Five Stages of Mourning, Plus One by SunnyRea (T, 10,557 || MCD, Pining / Grieving Sherlock, URT, Heavy Angst, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Drug Use, Graphic Death, Depression, Unhappy Ending) – Sherlock did not want this, did not want another stalemate with John in the middle, a gun in Jim’s hand. This cannot have happened without a sign. There has to be something he missed anything which said today is the day I kill for real.

A Is For Aftermath by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 10,567 w. || Injury / Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Pre-Slash/Bromance/Platonics, Hallucinations, Introspection, Insecure / Worried John, Big Brother Mycroft, Alternating POV, Anxious Sherlock, Self-Deprecating, Mildly Possessive Sherlock, 3G Moment) – John is still hallucinating, Sherlock cannot sleep, and Lestrade has a new case for them. But will life at 221B ever be able to return to normal? Epilogue to M is for Moriarty.

Where the Sun Never Shines by teahigh (T, 11,634 w. || PTSD, Nightmares, H/C, Post-TRF, Implied Sex) – John is a mess. Sherlock can’t fix him, but he tries. That’s good enough, John thinks.

I See You Through by belovedmuerto (T, 12,078 w. || Psychic AU || Empath John, Alternate TGG, Whump, Nightmares, Bedsharing, Slow Burn, Pre-Slash) – John has never asked Sherlock about his past, his childhood, the reason he quails in lonely misery almost every time he sees his brother. He’s never needed to. Part 2 of An Experiment in Empathy

A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that’s exactly what happened. “Congratulations, Lestrade,” he called out sarcastically. “You’re traumatizing a war veteran.”

Always the sun by Rose de Sharon (K+, 12,377 w. || Song Fic, Alternate Post-TGG, Friendship/Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection / Reflection, Injury Recovery, Obsessive / Protective Sherlock, Nightmares, John’s Past, Bed Sharing / Cuddles) – Sherlock ponders about how much his life has changed since John has become his flatmate.

The Meaning of Sacrifice by arts_and_letters (T, 14,101 w. || Angst, Reunion, Hurt/Comfort, Mental / Emotional Turmoil, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock has risked life and limb to protect John Watson, sacrificing his freedom and safety to fulfill his last vow. When Sherlock comes back bruised and battered from his second exile, will John’s love be enough to help Sherlock heal? And will John ever know the truth behind Sherlock’s enigmatic farewell?

The Consequences of Caring by Richefic (K+, 16,156 w. || Friendship & Angst, Domestics, Platonics) – Sherlock might scoff at this ‘caring’ lark. But John Watson’s situation cries out to be ‘solved’ and there is nothing that Holmes likes more than solving things. A series in four parts.

Achieving the Together-Coloured Instant by teahigh (E, 20,776 w. || Est. Rel, PTSD, Codependency, Fluff & Angst, H/C, Smut, Demisexual Sherlock, Experiments) – John wonders if this is how it’s going to be: A life speaking in code, because they’re both too stupid to figure out how to say, “I love you.”

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Angst, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

The Soul Remembers by i_ship_an_armada (E, 43,636 w. || Oblivion AU || Post-Apocalypse, Movie Fusion, Science Fiction, Action/Adventure, Angst, Dreams, Bittersweet Ending) – John Watson is the lone security repairman stationed on a desolate, nearly-ruined future Earth. His dreams are plagued by a tall, dark-haired man, and when his dreams meet reality, he will be forced to question everything he believes is the truth about his life.

The Homecoming Series by sussexbound (M, 51,744 w. across 12 stories, WIP || Domestics, PTSD, Love Confessions) – Sometimes home is all you need. After three years of horror, betrayals, and crushing loss, John and Sherlock find their way back home to one another, and together find new footing in a world that has changed forever.

Lost Without My Blogger by starrysummernights (E, 52,155 w. || Rev. Reich, PTSD, Hurt / Comfort, Fluff / Angst, Psychological Torture, Reunion Fic, Friends to Lovers) – John is abducted and declared dead. How will Sherlock cope without his blogger? How will he react when John comes back from the “dead?” Drama and angst with a healthy dose of romance. Part 1 of I’d Be Lost Without My Blogger

Scars by SilentAuror (E, 60,493 w. || Rape / Non-Con / Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dub Con Elements, Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending, Mary is Not Nice) – S3 rewrite, showing Mary’s manipulation of John as he realizes his love for Sherlock. Mary is not having it.

The Progress of Sherlock Holmes by ivyblossom (E, 62,006 w || First Person Sherlock POV, Pining, Angst, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Sherlock Learns About Himself, Happy Ending) – Sherlock struggles with his feelings for John, makes a mistake, and learns just how important he and John are to each other. Non-BBC Mary / John, but it’s a *complicated* relationship.

An Experiment in Empathy by belovedmuerto (T, 62,397 w. across 13 stories || Empath AU || Psychic John, Psychic-by-Proxy Sherlock, Empathy, Psychic Bond, Romance / Bromance) – In which John is an empath, Sherlock is Sherlock, and an epic bromance happens. In the aftermath of The Great Game, John creates an unexpected bond between himself and Sherlock. Now they have to learn how to deal with it. John is better at this than Sherlock is.

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) – John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

Darkling, I Listen by You_Light_The_Sky (T, 73,254 w. || Fairy Tale AU || Loosely Based on Beauty and the Beast, Magical Realism, Suicidal Themes, Romance, Creepiness, Adventure) – No one who enters old London ever comes out. They say that the beast devours them. When his sister disappears, John ventures into the dead zone beyond the wall, and finds a brilliant madman under a terrible curse… Part 1 of Darkling I Listen + Extras, Deleted Scenes

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w. || FutureAU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say:Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We’re all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors ‘Verse

Unkissed Series by 221b_hound (T to E, 184,168 w. across 46 works || Established Relationship, Ace Sherlock) – Sherlock returned from the dead a year ago. John returned to Baker Street six months ago. They’ve been in a couple since then. or at least, not NOT a couple. For two smart men, they sure can be dumb. Luckily, an art thief tries to drown Sherlock, Sherlock has a fever dream and things are about to change.

COMICS

Endless Dream by Navydream (M, 236 Pages || Sandman AU, Nightmares, Dreams, Developing Relationship, Transversing Time, Tragic Love Story, Happy Ending) – John’s been having strange dreams lately about a man who’s eyes are made of starlight…

MARKED FOR LATER

Pulse Points by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 2,719 w. || PWP, Anal Sex/Fingering, BJ’s, Fluff and Smut) – Sometimes John needs extra reassurance that Sherlock is alive and well.

Experimental Comforts by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 2,752 w. || Femlock, First Kiss / Time) – Sherlock tucked her right hand up under her head and took the rare chance to look her fill at her blogger and friend. During the day, she couldn’t dare let her gaze linger too long, lest John learn the true nature of her feelings. Now, with John asleep, it was safe, she could look and watch without any fear. Sherlock let her eyes travel over John’s quiet form. If possible, she looked even more beautiful like this, relaxed and at peace, the usual frown of worry gone from her lovely face. Sherlock wanted to touch, to stroke her jaw, her shoulders, trail her fingers down that smooth flesh and feel all the mottles and softness. Fighting that urge caused her to dig her nails into her own palms, the pain a stabilizing force, keeping her from doing something colossally stupid. Like pressing her lips to that same skin, or attempting to learn what John’s lips felt like under her own. Sherlock took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain control over her rapidly-beating heart. Sleep. She needed sleep. Sherlock closed her eyes, and willed herself into slumber.

A Study in Night Terrors by Dovahlock221 (T, 2,811 w. || 5 and Ones, Night Terrors, (Emotional) Hurt/Comfort, PTSD Sherlock, Worried John, Hurt John, Angst with Happy Ending) – Five times Sherlock suffered from night terrors and the one time he had the best dream of his life.

Panic Series by Dovahlock221 (G to T, 11,528 w. across 8 fics || Panic Attacks, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt John, Protective Sherlock/John/Mycroft, Character Injury, Sick Sherlock, Post S4, Anxiety, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock/John) – A series about Sherlock dealing with Panic Attacks and the people who help him through it.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #ptsd fics #nightmare fics #Anonymous

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mxndwitch · 5 years

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Mental health headcanon I

I have already done a ‘Post Endgame’ mental health headcanon, so it’s about time to talk about a fact that the MCU has glossed over entirely in my opinion: Wanda has been through hell and is not okay. If you keep reading, be aware that this headcanon will deal with mental health issues, war, murder & torture.

THE REMNANTS OF WAR

Wanda grew up in a country marked by war and violence that started long before she was born. Given that a missile hit their home during dinner, I want to assume that neither Pietro, nor her were strangers to airborne attacks at that point in time, nor to other displays of violence in public, even before they were orphaned. There is only so much a parent can do to protect their children from a reality like that and growing up under those circumstances leaves marks that can’t be erased. Even if we assume that the missile was their first proper encounter with violence, the whole incident was enough to give the twins a purpose for years: get revenge. At ten years old, she not only experienced the terror and trauma of being interrupted mid dinner by the sound of a missile crushing your house and the sight of it ripping the twins parents from them, but also the fear of dying themselves for HOURS. they stared at the missile all night, terrified it would go off and up to this day, Wanda still dreams of what happened back then. The situation in Sokovia didn’t improve after that and given how violently they lost their parents, Wanda was dealing with extreme separation anxiety, as well as attachment issues from that day on. She hardly ever left her brother out of sight, never went anywhere without him, panicked when he wasn’t close and needed constant reassurance that he was alright. She also struggled with forming relationships with others, not wanting to get attached to anyone, because the war would just tear them away again. Given the twins spent a big portion of their lives living on the streets, they witnessed the horrors of war first hand. Raids at night, bombs falling, the fear of being hit or shot, the panic when the sirens started going off and they weren’t sure where to hide from the bombs that were about to rain - this was the world they grew up in. They saw buildings crumble, dead bodies lying in the streets and men with guns acting like there were no laws left to believe in. Even years later, Wanda is still terrified of everything that is similar to an explosion, as well as airplanes in the sky. The mere sound of a yet causes her to have panic attacks, because it reminds her of war. Explosions of all sort paralyze her, as well as gunfire, because it all brings back memories of her old life. Even thunderstorms were a big issue for her for a long time, but she is getting a bit more used to them, lately. She doesn’t trust herself, or anyone else around guns and would never willingly use one, because she has seen too many people die from bullets, including her own brother. There are certain other things about the war she won’t forget, that trigger anxiety, panic attacks and flashbacks for her: the sight of dead bodies, the smell of burning flesh ( even a harmless bbq can turn into something that brings back unwanted memories ), barking & aggressive dogs ( the military had trained dogs that they would let loose when they hunted down rebels and thieves ), as well as the smell of blood. There are some things she can handle better than others & it won’t always be obvious that she is in distress, because she learned how to function in most situations, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t suffering.

Up to this day, she suffers from severe nightmares, anxiety in situations that involve any triggers, insomnia & even physical symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, chest pain, shortness of breath & stomach pains. Her PTSD is definitely better now than it was a few years back, but she’ll never be able to shake it entirely, because her life as an Avenger keeps exposing her to situations that are triggering and terrifying to her, which also often leads to her holding back with her powers, because her mind is her weapon and if it is occupied, she can’t use its full potential.

#hc #wanda's war ptsd #there will be a separate post about the issues she faces after hydra

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archangelakira · 5 years

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MHM

So May is Mental Health Month? Not something that ever really concerned me until recently. That being said, I think it has a much larger impact on me now given that I have begun the road to recovery from my own mental health issues. And if my story can help even one person then it's worth sharing.

Anxiety is no joke. I always had a manageable case of social anxiety growing up. You know, I was the kid that didn't really have many friends in school. I preferred to read rather than socialize. I hated being called on during class, presentations made my hands sweat profusely and made my stomach do backflips. I would hold on to a gum wrapper throughout an entire class just because I didn't want to be the center of attention when I got up to throw it away. I would suppress coughs or sneezes because I didn't like drawing attention to myself. School dances were a nightmare but for some reason I insisted on maintaining a sense of normalcy and... well, everyone else was going.

None of these things ever affected my daily life. Did they make me uncomfortable? Sure. Did I replay something stupid I said 10,000 times in my head and come up with a million better ways to have said it? Absolutely! But not once do I recall ever having an anxiety attack as a result. Although I'm sure those presentations brought me pretty close more than once.

Today is a different story. Today I fight off anxiety attacks a few times a week. What changed? Was there a turning point in my life? Did things just build up over time and eventually tip the scales? Was there some sort of traumatic event? Yep. That's it. That one, right there. Traumatic event. Flashback incoming:

Here's the thing, I had very few constant support systems in my life. Mom died at an early age. I had my dad, of course. And my brother. Had my best friend in the entire world that I had known since we were five! Gosh, she's a life saver. Probably more than she will ever know. Then I had my relationship. My other half. My S.O. We met in 2005 when we were 17 years old working a summer job at our local movie theater. Started dating in October of that year. Moved in together in December of the next year. We were the proud parents of two doggos. We spent 12 years of our lives together. Until it all came crashing down at once.

It took a only one session of speaking with a specialist for them to clearly define what had happened to me. PTSD. I always associated it with veterans and the like. People that experience extremely horrific situations on a regular level. But I guess everyone has their breaking point. So pretty much it was one loss on top of another that pushed me past mine. My best friend moved across the country. Not a huge loss... I still talk to her regularly. But part of my support system and really the only social life I had was chipped away. My dad died. Another chip. Lost my childhood home. One more chip. And then the big one. My whole world was shaken up when I lost my significant other. Then the fur babies. Things just piled up all within a short time period and I buckled under the weight of it.

I guess it started in the summer of 2017. That's when I felt my world begin to really fall apart. Bestie had recently moved. I came home from work one night and the S.O. was asleep, snoring lightly. I hung up my purse and took off my shoes. I went to wake him up when I realized that he wasn't snoring. He was gasping for air. His eyes were rolled back in his head and he couldn't breathe. To say I freaked out was an understatement. I called my brother who lived very close and he came over and asked if he had any history of night terrors. No. Seizures? Nope. So he helped me roll my boyfriend over just to eliminate the chance of choking on vomit. That's when we saw the lighter. And the aluminum foil. And the charred remains of some drug. We continued trying to wake him. I called his 'friend' that he had been spending so much time with lately. He couldn't tell me what the substance was, only that I shouldn't call an ambulance. He would come out of it, this friend assured me, and I wouldn't want authorities to find drugs in my home. What a dumb thing to believe but I was naive. Okay, so what now??? My brother and I started to carry him to my car so could make the short trip to the ER. We got about halfway through the house and my boyfriend just snapped out of it. Just popped up like nothing was wrong. Started asking us what was going on. I broke down crying on the floor. I told him if he ever did anything like that again it was over between us.

October of 2017 my dad is hospitalized. His organs are shutting down and he's on life support. For two weeks I drive an hour and a half each way every day to be at his side. Early November he passes away. I'm heartbroken but I've been through this before so I know I will recover. The funeral passes quickly this time. I guess I wasn't dreading it as much as mom's. Thanksgiving and Christmas come and go. I had moved back in with my father when he started to get sick. He left no will and the medical bills are substantial. My brother and I prepare to lose the home we grew up in. In the process of packing things I notice that my significant other is missing quite frequently. Spending the night at friends' places. Taking my vehicle.

After about a five day stretch in February of not hearing from him, having no idea who he is with, where he is, what he's doing, if he's even alive, I get on his computer to see if I can get in contact with his friends through Facebook. He hasn't replied to my texts or messages. He won't answer my calls. So I open his laptop and sign in. The first string of messages I see are to a woman named Angel. I know I shouldn't open it. I know I don't want to see whatever is in there. But I'd also like some peace of mind. After looking through months of lewd photos and videos sent between them I pick up my phone and text my best friend. I warn her to be prepared for an onslaught of ugly crying as I'm about to end my 12 year relationship.

The next message I send is to him after 10 phone calls at 4am on February 28, 2018:

You have until noon to bring my car back to me or I will report it stolen.

He calls back in less than 30 minutes. He's in the driveway before 8am. We make arrangements for him to stay in the guest room until he finds a place to live or until the bank forecloses because I'm not heartless and don't want him to be homeless. I find a place to move into shortly after and start a new chapter in my life.

A new chapter filled with insomnia, an eating disorder, depression and anxiety. See, somehow, after all that my brain decided that it was my fault the relationship failed. Because when I asked him why he did it he said he was bored. And in my mind that meant he was bored of me. I was boring. So I began to use negative self talk as a coping mechanism. I hid the breakup from my family, friends, and colleagues for months. I was ashamed. I stopped eating because my depression told me he didn't want me because I was fat. I went from 170 to 130 pounds in less than two months. I stopped sleeping because I couldn't turn off the negative thoughts. I started to have anxiety attacks when the thoughts became overwhelming. I would go to Angel's profile and look at her picture and berate myself for not being as pretty as her, or as fit, or as intriguing. I would wonder why I wasn't enough. I would clench my fists so tight my fingernails cut into the palms of my hands. My heartbeat would start racing. I would start to hyperventilate and feel sick. It got so bad that a friend from work had to tell me to go talk to someone. He knew something was up and I honestly don't know if I would be here today if he had not intervened.

So now the insomnia is under control. Most nights, anyway. I still have an episode here and there but it's no where near what it was. I started eating again and I'm maintaining a healthy 155ish pounds. The depression is significantly reduced. I'm only battling the anxiety attacks now. A few months after that friend from work suggested I speak to a specialist, we started dating. Now my anxiety attacks are mostly a fear of losing him. It usually starts with something simple, like him finding out about some insecurity that I have and then it snowballs into negative self talk then, ultimately, me convincing myself that he doesn't want to be with me either. That I'll screw up this relationship too. As if the last one was my fault. Rational me knows that I'm lucky to have an amazing, caring, understanding guy in my life. Rational me knows that the negative thoughts are ridiculous and that even if this one 'gets bored' too it wouldn't be the end of the world. Anxiety attack me is irrational. Anxiety attack me feels like everything is spiraling out of control and it IS the end of the world. Luckily, the attacks are fewer with each passing day and it doesn't feel like an endless cycle anymore. For the first time in almost a year it feels like there might actually be an end to these vicious moments. I am healing.

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gaasaku-fanfests · 5 years

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Monster Maiden

Title: Monster Maiden Author: scarletpom [pinch hitter] Rating: T for adult themes Word Count: 7776 Summary: Sakura had recurrent nightmares that haunted her and now she would learn why. Who is this man and why does he remind me of the boy. Am I really his prey? Who is mother? Warnings: possessive behavior, mental illness, ptsd, trauma, gore, possible adult situations. Author's Note(s): My first public fiction so please be gentle. This is written mostly from Sakura's point of view. I chose the Chunin prompt, but I went a little on my own with it. My stories lead me where they want so I hope you will still enjoy! I worked really hard on this and I will probably write a sequel in the future! Also as reference I made the characters older in this story!

Prompt chosen: Chunnin exams [There’s more to it than that, but author-chan has taken some liberties, so it’s not 100% the same. Sorry.]

Partner: the-raging-demons

It was like most days, except today was the day of the chunin exams. I was really hoping for today to be that day I could take things a little easier. After all the sun was shining brightly and the birds were chirping away. It was a day where nothing in the world could go wrong, unless you’re me. Today would be the day I met my nightmare and remembered my past. I will start from the beginning. My name is Sakura Haruno here is my side of the story.

Kakashi Sensei only told us about the exams two days ago and expected an immediate answer. I couldn't help wondering what would be involved in these exams, I heard that ninja were coming from all over. Naruto and I were headed back from some last minute training, the written exams would start at 7pm tonight. They wanted to give any last minute travelers time to get into town. Of course Sasuke didn’t train with us, we were too behind in his eyes. I used to really like Sasuke, but he managed to wake up something in me long forgotten. I noticed Naruto was no longer following me as closely. Some kids were trying to get his attention.

“Naruto, you promised to play with us today!” Konohamaru fussed.

“I’m Sorry Konohamaru, but we have to take the exams now. I’ll hang with you later!”

“Naruto come on we need to go, I’m hungry.” I rolled my eyes.

The kids turned towards me.

“OH! You must be the boss’s girlfriend he was telling us about!”

Naruto twiddled his thumbs nervously. “Yea…..”

“Absolutely not his girlfriend!” I growled.

The kids glared at me now. “That’s ok she’s ugly anyway, boss!”

That’s when I snapped, I was so sick of stress today. We had been training for hours this morning and I didn’t need some kids reminding me of how awful I look after training all day. I chased both Naruto and the kids down the dirt road. My shoes kicked up the loose dirt behind me as I ran. The kids of course were laughing, I would show them. I wasn't really even sure what I was going to do when I finally caught up with them. I was mainly focused on telling off Naruto for giving children the wrong impression and possibly bad influence. Naruto was a troublemaker and Konohamaru was related to the Hokage, if he became trouble it would reflect on Naruto.

Suddenly I heard Konohamaru let out a yelp as I turned the corner to catch up. Some guy in all black with a cat like hood held him up by the collar. This guy was obviously from another village, he was accompanied by a girl in a purple two piece. They looked a few years older than our team.

“That hurt punk…” The hooded boy said.

“Kankuro… Don’t. Gaara will be here soon. You don't want to agitate him.” The girl looked nervous.

“I’ll finish with these kids before Gaara gets here, don’t worry so much Temari.”

“Hey I’m really sorry! This was my fault I was chasing them. We should have been more careful.” I was hoping to reason with this guy.

This Kankuro guy looked at me and smirked, “Sorry? Ok I will go easy on the kid I guess, but he still needs to respect his elders!”

He raised Konohamaru up and raised his other hand to smack him. Suddenly a voice came from nowhere.

“Kankuro… Don’t play with children… You are a disgrace to our village… I should really kill you…”

Kankuro looked like someone was holding a knife to his throat. I started to wonder if it was an overly strict Sensei, but I didn’t have long to wonder. A whirl of what appeared to be sand formed and then he was there. He was younger than the other two, wearing mostly all black with white and brown accents by sashes. On his back some sort of vase or gourd it looked very heavy but he didn’t seem affected. His presence carried something ominous and I noticed his black rimmed eyes. Does he not sleep I wondered. I must have been staring because he snapped towards me with a grin. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, he was captivating. At the same time I didn't want him to come any closer to me. Like a memory… He reminded me of something I didn’t really understand at the time. Did he feel this way as well or is it just me. He caught my gaze for what seemed like forever. His eyes were teal blue and ice cold, was there even a soul behind those eyes?

Finally Gaara broke the gaze and stared at his company. “What are you two doing? We are supposed to be getting intel before the exams….”

“Gaara…. I had nothing to do with this foolishness” Temari was also just as nervous around this guy as Kankuro was.

“Just because you two are my siblings doesn't mean I won’t kill you without a second thought…. Don’t lose track of your instructions again”

“Siblings…” I didn't realize I actually spoke, it was only a thought.

The two older siblings looked even more panicked, someone was questioning Gaara’s logic. Gaara simply contorted his face in what he probably considered a smile. He took a step…. Wait… He’s walking towards me… I started to take a step back looking over to Naruto for support, but he was just as frozen as the others. Gaara was mere inches from me now and his aura was so cold and hateful. I was afraid he was going to reach out to touch me.

“Yes…. We are siblings…. From Suna village hidden in the Sand…. Here for the exams… A girl like you should count your blessings that I am too busy right now. For future reference when you show fear you represent prey. Unless you want to be prey to a man like me… or am I a predator?.... I will surely see you later I’m sure. Your adorable pink hair would be easy to spot in any crowd…. Heh heh..”

“I…. um sorry….”

“SO you do want to be my prey then…. I’ll give you time to rethink this again… For now…. KANKURO TEMARI we need to go….”

Just like that he seemed to disintegrate into sand, but it was obvious he was not far away. I could still feel his gaze. The other two accompanying him looked at me with concern and then peeled out of there. I suddenly felt like I had somehow entered into some unescapable hell. My heart was in my throat and I could barely breathe. It was reminding me of my nightmares I tried to forget. Trying to ground myself back to reality I began to take in my surroundings. The wind had picked up slightly bringing a cool breeze. I softly toed at the dirt under my feet.

Naruto reached out to steady me. “Sakura-Chan, Its ok. That guy was way out of line. As future Hokage…. I promise to beat the snot out of anyone that threatens my team. Especially someone as beautiful as you Sakura-Chan.”

I thanked Naruto and playfully pushed him away, but he still seemed concerned. That's when our raven haired teammate finally showed up. He looked agitated and slightly nervous.

“Really Sakura! I know you don’t like me anymore, but don’t go falling for the first brooding man you see! Is that your next love? I guess prey is a pet name? Some sort of behind closed doors thing?”

He’s still mad about our falling out, it was really hard on his ego. It was a year ago on my birthday when it happened. Sasuke had brought me a gift, but when I opened it I had a flashback. It was only a teddy bear, but all I could see was those beady eyes. I felt those cold lifeless doll eyes suck me in, When I looked up Sasuke was gone and there was a blurry boy figure maybe about six years old. His features I could not make out, but he was taller than me. The bear was now covered in blood, dripping crimson hate. I looked around desperately We were in a room filled with plush toys and the door was blocked off. I didn't want to play with him anymore. I wanted to go home, he thought his toys would console me. The boy was pushing this blood soaked bear towards me. This bear was so worn from being carried at all times, maybe he thought it would console me as it did him.

I suddenly pushed the bear and boy away, but it was only Sasuke. I was screaming for help, someone come save me. It was the first time the nightmares followed me in the day. I had run home crying that day and I never looked at Sasuke the same way again. Of course we were still teammates there was no changing that. I think it was a shock to him that day I snapped.

The boy in my hallucination was somewhat of my boogie man. I had nightmares of him ever since I can remember. The first night it happened was after I woke from surgery. I had to have reconstructive surgery on my wrist. The doctor and my parents told me I fell playing…. No it was something else they were hiding. The x-ray showed my wrist was completely shattered. I can’t imagine a five year old playing in a way that would cause that. I gave up asking about it through the years, as my parents always chalked my nightmare up to an imaginary friend or a night terror.

Looking at the anger in Sasuke’s eyes now I realized how it must have felt. He was used to having everyone fawn all over him, but I was not going to be embarrassed by him either.

“Sasuke…. I have never seen that guy before…”

“That’s funny because I was watching… and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Just like how you used to look at me… You know what. Forget it. I should have figured you would meet someone as messed up as you.”

“SASUKE QUIT, Sakura is scared! Do you even care? If you were watching why didn’t you step in!” Naruto was fuming now.

“Naruto, you wouldn’t understand. Sakura likes them like that. She prefers someone dark and brooding and now apparently from a strange land…. I’m out. I’ll see you guys at the written exams…”

……..

Gaara POV

Sasuke stomped off growling obscenities under his breath, but the danger wasn’t too far away. Gaara was collecting his intel and had watched the whole scene. Sitting up in a tree hidden from view Gaara has been watching from behind Sakura. He was trying to get information on Sasuke, that raven boy was a threat. However now something distracted him… That word love… Could it be true? She had a familiarity to her. Gaara had heard stories of people believing in past lives or fate but he never really considered it himself. Who was this girl. I really could have easily ended her and her friends just now, but something else is there. I think that’s the closest I have gotten to anyone physically without them trying to run. People in this village don’t know what I am and I could easily interact. Yes she seemed nervous, but it wasn’t like the others. Yes…. I think I will definitely see that girl again whether she's ready or not.

Gaara slinked off his perch watching Sakura and Naruto walk off.

“We could follow the prey….. We can play… You are a growing boy… you should get at least three victims a day…. Or Mama can show you a new game we can play with her…. But for now Mama needs blood….”

Gaara gripped his forehead nodding to the voice echoing in his head. “Yes mother…. I’ll kill for you now. I want to play later though, lets spare the girl for now…”

“Of course Baby whatever you need to keep mama happy. This is a mutual benefit we share…”

Gaara quickly jumped from shadow to shadow looking for a victim, mother would give him what he wants if he kills. She would help bring everything he wanted and reward him for his offerings. It wasn’t long before Gaara spotted a target, it was another foreigner. He clasped his hands together and sand poured out of his gourd. The ninja looked just in time to see a wall of sand slam into him. Gaara raised his hand and with a flick of his wrist it was done. The sand absorbed the blood quickly and the remains were grinded into the ground.

“Is that enough for now Mother?...”

“Thank you baby…. I’ll tell you everything you need to get what you want. But Mommy needs to know…. Do you want to keep this one or will I taste her blood as well?....”

“I’m not sure mother…. I would like company but I feel she will run like the others…. Can you help me….”

“Mommy will tell you all you need….”

“That Sasuke sounded like he wanted her…. He said she wanted me though… I don’t understand…. But that boy Sasuke he is a threat to me in more ways than one. His blood will be especially sweet for you mother I promise.”

“Such a good son I have…. Mommy loves you….”

Gaara listened to the voice as he dissipated into the shadows once again, It spoke of ways to catch interest. Girls like to be rescued, to be protected, to be wanted. This girl would maybe like flowers or someone to hold her always. It sounded like a lot of work to Gaara who only ever cared for himself up till this point. However this was a chance in a lifetime to have interaction with someone else. If mother was right, he could easily lure her in. If he could get her alone no one could stop him, not even that bastard father of his. Gaara wasn’t really sure what he would do when he snatched her, but mother would give him instructions. For now it was time to get back to the inn his team was staying at. The first part of the test would be in a few hours and they had much to discuss.

…….

Back to Sakura

It would be another few hours before the exams so I decided to go home to rest. I was still feeling uneasy with everything that happened earlier. After getting cleaned up I collapsed on my bed and snuggled into the plush bedding. My room was on the second floor with a large window in which I always loved to watch the night sky. The walls were currently a rose color with the sun trying to hide behind the clouds. It was darker in my room then usual as if it was a warning…. I watched shadows cast from the trees dance along my walls from the wind. Was it going to storm tonight? I closed my eyes telling myself it was just for a moment, but then I was out.

……

I awoke in my bed, but I was so much smaller now. It was another nightmare…. He would come. I pulled the covers over my head as most children do to hide from monsters. I scooted back further into the covers until I bumped into something…. Small arms enclosed around my chest longingly.

“Are you really too tired to play? Maybe I can stay here and keep you company….”

This is the first time I ever recall hearing the boy speak to me, and the sensation of his grasp felt so real. I shut my eyes tight hoping he would leave, but he only pulled me closer.

“Sakura…. I’m not a bad guy…. It was an accident. Please play with me…. I promise I won’t do it again.” His grip started to become unbearably tight, and his nails dug into my flesh. I looked down but his small arms were replace by large claws. The claws were gripping from my chest to my sides tightly. The claws could probably easily close around my whole body completely.

I started to struggle in its grasp, but he kept pulling me closer. This boy started to cry out that if I kept up I would be punished. He warned me I had to be good and be his friend or Mama would be angry. All this information was flooding my senses at once, it felt like my body would be crushed any minute. Suddenly he let go and looked at me.

“Sakura…. You have to wake up now…. I’m sorry our memories haunt you. But the monster is coming now… The real monster… I hope you can forgive us…. Please wake up now….”

His voice was fading quickly. I wanted to reach out for him as tears ran down my cheek.

He was still there, but he became blurry once again. No voice only gurlges of what could have been growls. Suddenly I felt so alone and vulnerable. He told me I had to wake up? Something is coming I could hear a pounding in the distance…

“SAKURRA SAKURA!” BANG BANG

“You’re going to be late!!”

I jolted up from the sudden banging on the door, I was drenched in sweat. I had to go now.

……..

It was 6:30 pm and Naruto and Sasuke were waiting at the front door. Naruto was rather eager to start the test while Sasuke was as cool headed as ever. I quickly brushed my long pink hair and wiped the sweat off my face. Grabbing my ninja pouch I quickly dashed out of my room and met them downstairs. The first exam was being held at the ninja academy which was a few blocks down the road. I hadn’t been there since graduation and meeting Kakashi Sensei. Honestly it wasn’t all that long ago, but it felt almost like a school reunion.

As the three of us walked down the street I felt the cool wind blow past us. It was blowing towards us bringing crinkled leaves and loose soil with it. The moon was almost full at this point, but I think a blood moon was coming soon. Some say blood moons bring new chapters in your life. Others say they bring love, but I honestly felt a discomfort under the blood moon. I always felt like someone was watching me with it. I let out a sigh as we continued our pace for the academy. Both Naruto and Sasuke were quiet.

Finally the building came into view and we quickened our pace. I wanted to get inside and into the light as soon as possible. I was still uneasy with those words. The real monster is coming…. What does that even mean? Who is that boy? He seemed to know me when he spoke. His voice had a soothing nature unlike the growls I usually heard when I saw him.

The inside of the building seemed to be just as unsettling, but it was night time. A lot of the corridors were unlit. We finally made our way to the exam room, and it was packed wall to wall. My eyes quickly scanned around looking for any sign of trouble. Naruto and Sasuke started talking with some older looking ninja, I wasn’t interested so I hung back still scanning the room. Then I saw them, the three sand ninja were standing in the back of the room. It didn’t take long before Gaara noticed me looking his way. I quickly turned away when I saw him shift as if ready to walk my way. He didn’t seem as threatening at the moment, but rather more curious. His eyes were softer and he tried to smile? All I saw was his lips curl into some kind of creepy grin. I pushed past a few ninja to better conceal myself in the crowd, but I knew he could still see me.

……

The test itself was really only a stress test it turned out, they didn’t even grade it. Which was fine for me, because Naruto would have never been able to pass. Naruto even managed to prevent others from giving up with one of his speeches, he was really something else. The next proctor told us the next test would take place in another two days. The forest of death in which we would be running a survival and retrieval test. This proctor was more tough then she looked and when she snapped her orders it demanded attention.

Everybody filed out of the room quickly after we got new instructions. It must have been midnight now the sky was pitch black. The air had chilled and the cold nipped at my bare elbows. Sasuke and Naruto had quickly parted ways with me, they were both tired I was sure. It was only a few blocks back home anyway and there were alot of people outside. I raised my head and stiffened my shoulders. My pace was quick to get home and out of this darkness. Then to my excitement I ran into Ino.

“INO!!!”

“Pinky?”

Ino lived a few houses down from me, we had grown up together. She was somewhat of my role model as a child, but we had drifted apart over a stupid crush. Recently we became best friends again. She swears we never did drift, but I knew it was because she liked Sasuke. I was no longer competition for him.

Ino walked with me the rest of the way and it seemed like all the anxiety I had lifted. She was constantly talking whether it was gossip or her snip its of advice. She had probed me about why I had been more anxious recently. Then she dropped a bombshell on me.

“You know Sakura, Your probably just nervous because of that new guy. I heard Sasuke talk about it with some other guys. I think it’s awesome and I approve! I managed to get a look at him and you guys would look great together. I mean you are total opposites in almost every way, but I’m happy for you. So are you guys going to go steady? Maybe we could double date.”

I simply gaped at Ino, of all people she would know not to press this. I tried to explain it was an misunderstanding, but her desperation for gossip and possible double dates to hook in Sasuke kept her going. She was already planning the first date and I had no idea how to stop her. I tried to fuss again describing my irritation for being the focus of her plans. I wasn’t going to be pushed into something so suddenly. After all the exams would end and I would never see that Gaara guy again, but she continued.

“Sakura dont worry!! I have a friend who has a long distance relationship! They are doing great!”

There was no getting through to her right now, She was just as stubborn as I was.

“Hey!!!! Isn’t that him there?!” Ino gasped and stopped dead in her tracks.

Of course it was him standing in the shadows watching us walk by. I wanted to run and never look back. This was too much. Ino ran up to Gaara, who flinched at the sudden woman tumbling towards him. His face showed pure shock and I assumed that his village was probably more conservative. I know some places you are expected to keep to yourself and have strict mannerisms. Ino stopped mere inches from him and waved me over winking.

“You are Gaara right?! Sakura told me about you! She’s constantly talking about you!”

“WHAT? No Ino, No. I… I have to go… I have a lot to do.”

“Sakura wait!” Ino shouted.

I couldn’t believe her! How could she do that? I was almost home now and as far as I cared everyone could go screw themselves.

I finally reached my house and quickly entered slamming the door shut. My parents were asleep, but I didn’t care I was angry. I threw my ninja pouch on the floor watching it slide and pop open. It was late and time for sleep I thought. I’ll clear up the confusion tomorrow right? I walked to my room quickly, but my door…. It was already open. I always kept my door shut, I didn’t like people seeing inside. I stepped in the door and looked around as if waiting for the boy. No he wasn’t real. I turned on the light and immediately noticed on my nightstand…. A bouquet of roses, but they look like they had been manhandled. The flowers were missing several petals, were covered in bruises and tears. There was also a note on my pillow, but I really didn’t want to know who invaded my space. I felt sick to my stomach as it started churning as I started towards the bed. Shuffling my feet I felt it…. There was sand on my floor…. He had been here in my room…. He knew where I lived…. I quickly fell to my knees, this is worse than I feared. I had to talk to an adult and get help. This wasn’t like when Lee followed me, no this was serious. This guy was obviously overpowered and I managed to catch his attention. Am I really like prey? I wondered hoping the answer was no.

That night it was impossible to fall asleep as I kept feeling watched. I finally stopped tossing and turning and instead listened out for any sounds. I laid for what seems like hours when suddenly there it was. Someone was at the window, I could see a large figure behind the closed curtains illuminated by the moonlight. The window started to squeal with protest, Their trying to come in! I quietly crept off the bed and slid myself underneath scooting all the way against the wall.

The window finally gave to whatever was coming as I heard the thump of heavy feet. I held my breath as I heard the intruder grunt and move towards the center of the room. His walking made such a weird sound…. What is that? Scraping against the floor…. I managed to peek from the bed skirt and I saw it. He was a monster with a large sand claw enveloping the right side of his body. A large tail dragging behind him as well. I couldn’t see his face from the angle, but I could tell it was probably just as bad. His breathing was labored and he was pacing around like he was looking for something. He would let out a few grunts before finally sitting on the edge of the bed. I covered my mouth praying he wouldn’t hear me. His claw gripped the edge of the bed ripping into the underside of the mattress as if it was butter.

“She did not like the flowers…. But the blonde said she liked me…. Why isn’t she here MOTHER? You promised me!”

Mother? I thought who is he talking too?

Gaara continued his one sided conversation as he shifted his weight on the bed. The sand covering him was so heavy that the bed threatened to give out. I couldn’t imagine him finding me like this. Tears started to spill down my cheek as I muffled my cries. Suddenly I heard him jump up. Did he hear me? I began to panic.

“I can smell her tears MOTHER! I need to protect her yes? That’s what you said!” He was now quickly pacing again and sniffing the air.

Gaara slammed his claw knocking the closet door off the wall. He’s going to find me! I thought. He began knocking things over desperately as he looked for where the smell was originating. He turned back towards the bed and his claw reached to flip to bed…. No I can’t… Please…

“Sakura! It’s late what are you doing!” Her father was quickly running down the hall.

Gaara froze and quickly retreated out of the window. “I’ll be back Sakura…..”

My parents flipped when they saw the state of my room not sure what to think. Until I mentioned His name. Both of my parents froze with faces full of fear.

“No…. He couldn’t have come here…. He should have forgotten! It was so long ago!” My mother started to sob.

That night my parents finally told me everything. We had traveled to meet some friends of my dad’s in suna. I was so little and trusting, I wanted to be friends with everyone. My parents thought my new friend in suna was innocent enough, until the night I disappeared.

…..

Gaara was not a patient child and now that he found a friend he didn’t want to be apart.

It was easy enough to get to her as his sand could break any lock. This wasn’t the first time he snuck another kid home, but usually they never left alive. Sakura was different though, she wouldn’t try to leave him. She would stay and play with him forever. It was never his intention to scare his new friend when he whisked her off.

In his room they were safe he promised. No one could separate them, but she continued to cry. Sakura had been unconsolable at this point screaming for help. Gaara did the only thing he could think of. Grabbing his most prized possession, and handing it to her. It was the bear Yashamaru said his mother picked for him, but She only screamed louder ripping away from him. Now he was angry! The sand whipped out grabbing her wrist and twisted it till it shattered.

“I’m sorry! If you won’t stay with me then I can’t let you live!” Gaara had growled.

Sakura looked up at him finally hushing her wails to only quiet sobs. Gaara knew if she was afraid she would stay and listen to him. That night Gaara coddled her and held her close as if she would disappear reminding her she belonged to him. When morning came Yashamaru found the two and seemed calmer then what Sakura thought normal. What she didn’t realize was Yashamaru had saved her life by remaining calm, reacting negatively would have made Gaara dangerous.

Yashamaru had made them both breakfast and then sent Sakura go home to freshen up. As soon as Sakura had gotten home the phone rang, Yashamaru alerted her parents. They had to leave immediately.

…...

My parents admitted to convincing a Doctor to make me forget, they said the nightmares wouldn’t stop before hand. It was for my own sanity. Hearing all this information I wasn’t really sure what to think. All these years I was lied to about everything and now he was back. This time though I wasn’t sure He would be so gentle. My parents offered to send me to another village for the rest of the exams, but I couldn’t think now. I told them I needed some space and went back to my trashed room.

The next day came quickly and I was surprised to hear the doorbell at the crack of dawn. It was Kakashi Sensei, He was now aware of the situation. The next part of the exam was tomorrow, but Kakashi said I was exempted for the time being. Then he said something I didn’t care for.

“Sakura.. You know our village and Suna is in a very strained relationship. I’m not saying you have to go along with anything, but you need to realize that if the Hokage finds out he may suggest an arrangement…”

“At her age! She’s only 17!” My father snarled.

“She’s also a ninja and a tool for the village, meaning if necessary…..”

I cut him off. “I understand Sensei…. But I…. still want to be in the exams.”

“You can be in the one on one battles, but I don’t want you in this particular test. Especially since you are probably in emotional distress. It’s the most dangerous part of the test and I have already found a replacement for you.”

“Ok”

……..

I stayed away from not only my home, but also the other ninja over the next week. My parents had me stay with a relative until the actual battle exam. I spent most of the week mulling over my thoughts and looking over my shoulder. Then my aunt told me something that finally snapped me out of this mouse I became.

“Sakura…. You know being scared is ok, but You can’t change the future doing nothing. I could easily die tomorrow yes, but I can’t constantly worry. You need to make yourself happy and if that means running away. Do it…. I won’t turn you in.”

“I won’t leave…. You are right though…. I can’t change what happens tomorrow. Only how I live today.”

After that I finally started feeling more relaxed and started to go out again. I even tried to keep up with the results of the exams, there were bets so it was easy to get stats.

After a few days of quiet, a messenger knocked on the door.

“Is there a Sakura here? I have a letter for you.”

My Aunt didn’t seem to care for the messenger boy. “You aren’t my usual messenger….”

“I am here…” I said nervously.

“Ah… ok…. Here we go:

Dear Sakura,

I overheard your parents tell you about what happened. I knew you seemed familiar to me. Mother did not mean to scare you, She was over excited about my happiness. She wanted to help me, get you. When I heard your parents coming up I realized I probably scared you. I can’t exactly protect you from Myself or Mother, so I took a step back to analyze the situation. I’m sorry if I frightened you, but I’ve made my decision now.

Also I’m planning on killing that Sasuke guy, he said things about you I can’t forgive. Anyone who dares insult what I care for is doomed to a slow painful death. I am protective girls like that right?....

Signed Gaara

Wow, interesting guy…. Um ok here’s the letter…. I gotta go….” The messenger looked visibly ill after reading.

Wait Sasuke! I thought he’s still a friend and I can’t let Gaara kill him! I raced out the door before my Aunt could even react. I had to be sure to warn my friends about the letter.

Before I could make it very far though I tripped and fell but someone caught me. I started to apologize when I realized the person pulling me up was Gaara. He tried to smile again, but it was still coming across as a creepy grin.

“Girls like getting letters right?....”

“Wait…. What’s wrong with you? That’s it I don’t understand, but I’m getting angry.”

Gaara recoiled as if I had stabbed him. “I’m trying very hard why are you making this harder?..... I am following all the rules…. You should love me now…..”

“Love?.... I thought you wanted to…. Uh kill me….? You told me I was your prey and you have been stalking me like some kind of killer….”

“I am a killer…. I’m the monster my village fears, but I’m trying very hard. I have never worked so hard….”

“Please don’t kill my teammate…. Please don’t hurt anyone I know….”

“I can’t promise that….. I don’t make those decisions…”

Gaara reached out his hand as if it was some kind of compromise we were agreeing too.

“No…. I won’t let you in…. Unless you promise not to hurt my friends…. This is non negotiable. If you promise me I will maybe spend time with you… As a friend.”

“Only a friend?....”

“A friend…”

“Alright…... “ Gaara looked defeated.

“Hey, just friends isn’t bad…. I mean who knows in the future…” What am I saying I felt guilty inside. If his village did fear him I would imagine him being very lonely. I couldn’t lead him on either though. Too late the wheels were already turning in his head as he reached for my hand. He laced his fingers with mine, they were rough textured like sand?...

“Ok… I would like to have the future sooner though….” He ran his thumb over my palm.

I’m so screwed….

As promised I spent some time with him, we ended up going to the training grounds. We didn’t really talk much all he seemed to want was to be able to be close. He finally reminded me that the battles were coming soon and there was something I needed to know. He couldn’t tell me now, but it had to do with the villages treaty. I froze remembering what Kakashi had said. Have the Kages started bargaining already, but when Gaara saw my panic he caved.

“An invasion….”

I looked at him in shock as he continued. It was going to be started during his fight as he was the weapon of mass destruction. We are going to destroy your whole village, He said. I started to stand but he snagged my hand.

“I can not let you alert anyone now…. Even as… just friends.. You have to come with me now…” Everything started spinning as he was teleporting us somewhere.

…...

The next few days I had spent locked in that small rented hotel room. Gaara’s siblings would occasionally come to see us out of curiosity. Temari had brought things back for me sometimes during my captivity, like sweets or newspapers. They were afraid of their own younger brother, I couldn’t imagine being so feared even by family. The time I spent with Gaara I learned a lot I didn’t care for, his whole village sounded wretched. He killed many people, but it sounded like it started as self defense. I felt sad for him, all he wanted was someone to be there and maybe he could change…. I am going to be a healer… Maybe… I can help him. Gaara seemed to want to know everything about me, but he didn’t share as much of his life. The only pieces I got were that he was considered a monster and everyone was afraid. His own father tried to murder him several times. There was one thing I really should never have asked though.

“Gaara?.... I was wondering…. I heard you talk to someone before… You called them mother?”

“Yes…. Mother…. What about her?”

“Well… Um…. Does she talk to you often? Where is She? You must be very close…”

Shukaku chuckled in the back of Gaara’s mind.

“She’s always with me… She’s part of me and what people are afraid of… Mother promises not to hurt you though! I’m a good son and she wants me to be happy too.” Gaara began to fidget in place looking at me for a reaction.

“What do you mean? If she’s your mother she can’t be part of you? Why are people scared of your mother?”

“Do you want to meet her?..... I can show you, but not now…. The full moon will be coming soon on the day of the fights, I may not be able to hold her back then…. If she comes out you can not run away or you will make yourself look like prey… When I was at your home looking for you…. The monster part…. If you happened to see it…. That is her…. She promises not to hurt you, but she is also sometimes unpredictable. Promise me you won’t run away….”

“The claw I saw you with…. You are saying that is her?...”

“Mommy can explain if you let me out now sweetie….”

“Not now Mom! It’s not safe to let you take control here…”

“Is… She talking now….” I asked nervously.

“She says Hello…. Sakura….” Gaara responded nervously.

“Um… Hi, Gaara’s mom….” I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, but apparently this thing wanted to meet me now.

I was able to change the subject easily enough by asking him more about life in suna. Honestly though I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. What was this thing that made him a monster, there was no way it was his mother.

At night while staying with him I came to realize he really did never sleep. Gaara might close his eyes and meditate, but he was never truly asleep. That is very bad for mental stability I thought, but it was reassuring knowing someone was there. The nightmares seemed to stop for the most part while I was with him. On the first night with him I woke to him bringing me in his arms, he said I had started to cry in my sleep. So here I am Sakura Haruno, feeling myself falling for a man who is not only dangerous and unstable, but possibly possessed. I wanted to know more about him as time went on, but the exams had finally come up again. Gaara told me they were the next morning, which meant things were about to change drastically.

……

I arrived to the stadium with Gaara and his team. I was instructed not to talk to anyone else and to stay with one of them at all times. Gaara held my hand tightly as we weaved through the crowded halls. There were so many people here that I didn’t even see what was coming.

Suddenly a hand snatched my shoulder. “Sakura where the HELL have you been! Why are you hanging out with him again? What happened to the team?” It was Sasuke and he was furiously pulling at me arm.

This did not sit well with Gaara and He went ballistic…..

“LET US KILL HIM…. He’s trying to take what is ours!!”

“......Don’t you touch…..” Gaara pulled me back and I noticed his right eye had changed!

His left eye had turned black with a gold iris and star patterns. Sasuke didn’t notice and tried to push Gaara out of the way, but he dodged and grabbed me. Gaara was pulling me now at full speed away from the crowds. I could hear Sasuke yelling as he was trying to keep up and behind him Gaara’s siblings followed suit. I couldn’t even focus my vision to see where we were headed. All I know is suddenly we were in the forest and finally stopped on a huge branch.

Gaara gripped his head as if in agony. “Mom please… Be careful around Sakura when you come out!”

“Gaara are you ok?....” I reached for him, but he pushed me away quickly as if hurt.

“Sakura…. She’s coming… Don’t run”

“Who is coming! You stupid prick!” Sasuke had managed to catch up to us now.

“You…… You screwed with the wrong person today….. You are my prey now Sasuke…. Ughhhhh!!!!”

Suddenly Gaara’s gourd started to reform around his body. I watched as the sand covered the right half of his body and face. A tail also sprouted from the bottom of the gourd to give him better balance. Gaara’s face was half gone replaced by this beast as sharp long fangs jutted over his lip dripping saliva. I couldn’t look away… This was not a mother… This was a… a… demon. I heard the stories before since I knew someone in our village had one, but I had never seen anything like this before.

Gaara took a leap towards Sasuke and slammed his large claw into him knocking him against a tree. I saw Temari and Kankuro finally catch up, but when they saw Gaara they froze. They would not come to help I thought, They are afraid of what he is becoming. I could hear his growls as Gaara waited for Sasuke to retaliate.

“What’s the Matter SASUKE! Aren’t you going to fight!?”

Sasuke finally appeared behind Gaara and used his fire style jutsu, but Gaara used the sand to block it and barreled towards him. Gaara had Sasuke pinned now and he was transforming more and more. Nothing was left of his face now, but the love kanji above his right eye. His body was also bulked up by the sand with only his lower legs showing through. This was not Gaara anymore this was Mother….. It was going to kill Sasuke and I had to stop it. I watched as it held out it’s large claw and lept again…. I jumped in front of it. It was the most painful thing I ever felt in my life. I don’t really remember anything but the pain and his screaming. As soon as he realized he had hit me half of the sand fell away. He grabbed me in his one right claw and dashed away. I felt myself fade in and out of consciousness.

When I woke up he was there cradling me in his arm and claw. I had been bandaged with his white sashes. I looked up at him as he rocked us back and forth mumbling nonsense. I gripped at his chest tighter hoping he would relax, but he wasn’t ok now. I felt his tears drop on my head as well as what I could only imagine was saliva.

“Gaara….”

“No...no.. I’m sorry”

“I’m ok…. I’m not going anywhere… It hasn’t bled through the bandages, it’s not that severe.” I tried to sooth him.

“Why…. why did you get in the way….”

“You promised. Not to hurt my friends. I was making sure you could keep that promise.”

“Do you hate me….”

“No… Gaara you have been alone for so long. This isn’t your fault. Maybe I can help you.”

“The only thing that can fix my pain is Love Sakura….”

“I can try my best to love you Gaara….” I looked up at him nervously as he was still in this possessed mode.

Suddenly Gaara reached for my chin and brought his lips too mine, it was my first kiss ever. I thought I would be terrified as he kissed me, but he was so gentle. That was it, I was his now and there was no going back, but I’m not sure I would ever want to. The rest of the night Gaara held me protectively just like he had once held his prized teddy bear. After a few hours the sand finally fell away from his body and it was just us. We would be together forever now I thought as he kissed me again.

#GaaSaku #gaasaku-fanfests #GaaSaku Fan Fest 2018 #scarletpom

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