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secondhand-trash · 3 years

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If I Only Knew Your Name

A/N: so this was an idea I got while mindlessly picking songs to listen to on Spotify’s Indie rock playlist and came across this one song that just made me want to write something about it hehe accidentally put this aside for a whole month but I’m so glad that it’s here now lmao I had a lot of fun writing this

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: After a drunken night of passion, Atsumu had nothing he could find you with, not even your name. So he took the matter into his own hands and tried to search for you using the power of the internet.

Warning: drunken one night stand, suggestive descriptions, Atsumu is an embarrassment and I sure hope you cringe while you read it as much as I did when I was writing it

Word count: 9453

The song:

Young Love (feat. Laura Marling)//Mystery Jets, Laura Merling

One night of love

Nothing more nothing less

One night of love

Had left my heart in a mess

You woke up with a sharp pain spiking down your back, in a room you were sure you had never been to, on a bed that wasn’t yours.

Your head was heavy and every cell in your body screaming that you just wanted to fall asleep again when you stirred awake. You would have, had it not been the fact that you were not in your own room slowly started to settle in. There was a brief moment of blankness in your mind as you took in your surroundings. The room was still dim, the sun barely shining through the windows that were half covered by the shades. The domestic messiness crossed out the possibility that you were in a hotel room or some odd space behind the club you clearly remembered being at last night.

You did not move as your eyes glanced around the space. Trophies and picture frames were lining up on the shelf at the corner, all of names and faces you couldn’t match up with any of the ones that you remembered. The linen covers you were sitting under was sturdy on your skin, a dark red on top of brown sheets that you would have never bought for your mattress. The scent of the fabric was foreign to you, making your morning state of mind more and more alarmed at the amount of information you were trying to take in. You had to admit that it was very soft on the skin, not the slightest bit uncomfortable as it rubbed against your bare arm when the duvet fell off of your body as you sat up.

You felt a moment of frantic terror at the registration of your own bareness, with your legs feeling terribly cramped, waking up on a bed that you did not remember getting into.

Everything clicked when you stiffly turned to your side, and found someone laying next to you.

The broad back facing your side had you clutching the sheets up to cover your torso that now felt chilly with the lack of layers. The man, whose name you did not think you know and what you had done with him last night you could not remember but was certainly able to guess, was still soundly in his sleep. Now that you were painstakingly unable to ignore his presence, you picked up on the soft snores that lingered in the air, making your legs that were rubbing against each other under what you could only assume to be his spreads tense up as the picture of what happened to get you right where you were slowly got clear.

You would prefer not to think about it in detail, albeit the fact that it getting vivid in your mind sent a trail of heat from your core right onto your face and burning out the fuse in your head.

There was a slither of shame and guilt as you found yourself staring hazily at the man, his sculpted back spasming with each breath. Your hand gripping at the sheets in front of your chest only served to pull it further down his torso, revealing the dip at his waist and his arms that curled tighter against his body with a shiver. Blonde hair sprawled out messily on the pillow, and you felt chills creeping up your spine at the recoil of your fingers fisting those locks and brushing against the fuzzy patch of his undercut as he hovered above you.

Panting, grunting, moaning.

Your skin burnt up at the lingering feeling of a firm grip on your legs, the warm trail of his lips down your neck, and the unmistakable dullness between your thighs.

The heat settled into the pit of your stomach as a weight, twisting your guts until it resembled what felt like a bitter mix of shame and guilt.

Fuck, you slept with an absolute stranger last night.

You bite back a groan, slamming your hands against your face before letting them run down in a weak attempt to clear your head.

This was why you never go to clubs anymore.

The jolt of your body as you sat up straight pushed the sheets off of you and you winced at the soft whimper from the person next to you at the sudden movement. Your naked state was simply uncomfortable, not feeling like you were in your own skin at all as ironic as this was. You couldn’t help but hug your arms around your frame as you frantically looked around to see where your clothes and belongings were, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw the clothes you wore last night littering across the floor in all its messy glory.

Your clothes were all wrinkled up from the careless placement, a clear display of the passion and impulse when they were being taken off. Your hands were the same kind of frantic as you rushed to put everything back on, not caring about tugging them in properly or the fact that you did not even look into a mirror at all to see if you were at least presentable.

You did not hear the groan from the man that tossed over to his side on the bed as you slipped out of the bedroom, careful in softening your steps as you let the door clicked and darting your eyes around to see where the rest of your things were.

If you remembered correctly from the weak reconstruction of what happened last night, then your clutch should be somewhere near the door.

The giggle that slipped past your lips as he swung the door shut turned into a laugh when he latched onto you immediately. You could taste the hint of vodka lingering on his lips, bundling up your senses together with the warm breaths against your neck when he trailed down. It was like floating on a cloud, the way you latched yourself on this handsome man and he seemed to be unable to get enough of you. You barely heard the thump of what you were holding in your hand landing on the floor as your limbs went weak, swinging your arms around his broad shoulders when your mouth fell agape as he sucked down on the soft spot right on your neck.

It was right where you left it last night, the one and only clutch that you felt was suitable for you to bring to a club. There was a hint of hesitation as you rushed to pick it up, holding it in your hand when you thought of the person who you had left on the bed by himself.

What do people do after a one night stand? Talk? Have breakfast together? Or in your case, ask them for their name because you did not remember one thing that happened before you stepped into these doors?

Dear god, no.

So you did the only logical thing you could think of, and rushed out of the door without even looking back.

It wasn’t until you were far away from the apartment building you ran out of, the weight of your body shifting from leg to leg as you waited for the train to slowly drive into the station that something did not feel right to you. Your fingers fidgeted in reflex as you shoved yourself past the small gap between each person stuffed into the cart, a bad habit you had formed as a kid when you were nervous.

Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach when the lack of metal brushing against the tip of your finger finally clicked in your head.

You cussed under your breath, knowing exactly where the thin, gold band must be.

Miya Atsumu woke up with a pounding headache, in his own apartment that he forgot how he got back to, on his bed that somehow felt emptier than usual.

At first, all he could focus on was the clear hungover that he was suffering from. His tongue felt dry and he scrunched his face up at the bitterness as he tried to gulp. The half-drawn curtains were not doing it in shielding the sun that already came out, making him squeeze his eyes tight and blinked a few times before finally adjusting to the brightness. Stretching out on the bed, Atsumu whined at the soreness pulling at his muscles, feeling his joints pop as he arched his back and sprawled over to the other side of the bed.

He froze in place, arms still spread over his head and legs bundling up the sheets, before jolting up in one rapid movement only to wince at the horrible spinning in his head at the rush of blood up to his already heavy head.

Yet, dizziness and all that, Atsumu was sure that the feeling of someone being here with him last night definitely wasn’t just a drunkness induced illusion.

He groaned at the untimely pang of pain that pulsed at his temple, ruffling his hands through the locks of his hair that was tangled up from him tossing around the bed. The slight pull at his scalp at his impatient detangling method made him hiss, but it also served to get his wires just a little more sorted out than before.

First things first, he was very naked and combining that with the certainty that he must have had someone over, it wasn’t very hard for him to connect the dots. He ran his palm over the ruffled sheets, smoothing out the wrinkles and searched if there was still any hint of warmth left on the fabric. He cursed under his breath when nothing else but coolness met his skin, scolding himself for acting like a fool over some one night stand that did not even wait until he woke up to leave.

There was a lump at the back of his throat as he stayed there, holding onto the hovering position he took on the bed without a single thought.

He snapped out of it when he realised that he was in his own space, just staying still and letting time passed without doing anything. Atsumu had a strong feeling that if he stayed in bed any longer then he would just be miserable for the rest of the day and he really couldn’t afford it if he couldn’t manage to get over himself soon enough.

For all that it was, there was no bigger asset to his career than this very body that he felt like trash in right now, and god knows how much trouble he would get if people learnt that he let his performance slip because he couldn’t bounce back after a drunken hookup.

His steps were floaty as he climbed off his bed, stumbling into the bathroom and harshly gripping at the faucet. The water streamed out as a strong current and he splashed it against his face in a sadistic force. The coldness was stinging his skin, with no help from the way he rubbed his hands down his face and back up his chin.

He looked terrible, Atsumu thought to himself when he stared at the reflection in front of him. His eyelids were pulled taut with his hand, cheeks squished under his palm before he pulled away meanly. Bloodshot eyes made him wince and his face was so dropsy it looked like he had cried himself to sleep.

A loud slap echoed in the empty bathroom when he clasped his face a bit too hard in a desperate attempt to clear his head. He whined, rubbing the area that went numb and then heated up. There was a slight flush around the area he had slapped down, but he was feeling more in touch with reality afterwards.

Alright, so what happened last night?

It would be a lie if Miya Atsumu said he had never had one night stands. He would argue that he never go out with the intention for one, but sometimes one thing leads to another and it just happens. Some were good, some not really, some he hadn’t really think of until now when he was desperately thinking of what it was that led him to now.

He hadn’t wakened up with a hungover this bad in a long while. Being in a profession that demands that much of your physiques meant that there was not much room for the more self-destructive type of letting loose. It was strange, Atsumu pinched the center of his brows as one hand on the kitchen counter held his body still, he didn’t quite remember the deeds of what was happened once the door to his room was closed last night.

Wow, he looked up with eyes widened and huffed at no one, that was such a douchebag thing to say.

He, however, remembered the person that stumbled through the door with him in shocking vividness to even his surprise.

He would have to pretend that the lack of follow up did not send a blow to his ego, reassuring himself that there was no way it was because he behaved terribly that the person had to run off before he even woke up. He was bitter about the fact that they had left without leaving even a note, something he had no idea he cared about at all until this very moment when the silence of his home became just short of irritating in his pounding head.

Could have at least said ‘I had fun last night but I gotta go’.

Atsumu rubbed his temple, slowly rotating his arms backwards to get rid of that dull cramp.

Or maybe leave their number somewhere too.

He paused in his track, standing awkwardly in the middle of his tiny living room.

Did he want their number?

He shook his head violently to rid of the meaningless thought, an act he would immediately regret when he remembered that he was having a hungover as the dizziness made him stumble on his feet.

A crisp clang after he took a fumbled step to steady himself quieted all of the voices in his head. That was not a sound that aligned with what his brain expected from his worn-out room slippers kicking against the wooden floor. Atsumu held his head as the rang of what sounded like something metallic registered itself in his mind, blinking at the empty space right in front of his feet.

His eyes darted around the floor, searching for whatever it was he must have stepped on to make that sound. Atsumu was ready to settle for the possibility that he was starting to hear things when a quick flash of light from the corner caught his attention. He walked towards where it was, and slowly crouched down.

It was a ring, a very tiny one. It looked rather ridiculous being held between his calloused fingers, the thin golden band arching off the afternoon light that had shined on it. A very simple design with no gems or carvings along the surface, something very much so the opposite to his taste. He knew it was not his, from the size to the tone to the lack of anything all over its rim.

And then he remembered the first time he saw the ring, on someone else’s finger, just last night.

Atsumu would not classify himself as a party animal, despite the common speculation shared by people who knew him but not well enough. He could deal with house parties just fine, but clubbing had never been much of his thing ever since he woke up outside the back of a night club once with the worst ring in his ear he had ever experienced.

If it wasn’t part of his job, he would much rather be anywhere else than this overly opulent club that his team’s sponsor had booked up for their event. But business was business, and if he wanted to keep having his own room in away games then this was the price he had to pay.

Was it a nice club? He couldn’t say, but it sure was an expensive one if he was to make a guess based on the decor. So expensive that it was a bit tacky, if he dares to say. It was like the owner wanted to remind you that this was high-end and decadent. Imagine what you would see in a basic mansion on a real estate agent’s website, then dim it up and add many hi-fis, what you would result with was likely close if not identical to the space he was in. It was loud and hard to escape from, his ear pounding together with the baseline every time it blasted through He would never quite understand rich people, he thought to himself as he took a sip of his drink and scrunched his eyebrows together. He forced down the urge to poke his tongue out at the obvious taste of syrup, trying to pass it off with a cough into his fist as he plopped down on the barstool.

“How’s your drink?”

The smooth voice reaching into his ear was mismatched to the booming club he was in. Atsumu turned his stool to the side with a push with the heel of his uncomfortable leather shoes and was met with an entertained gaze. You sat with both feet on the footrest of the stool, a posture that seemed rather childish for the night club bar you sat in front of. With your bare forearms lazily placed at the edge of the bar table, your finger tapped casually against the rim of your cocktail glass, the pink liquid inside looking like it was glowing under the neon lights. He could not map out your features too clearly but your head tilted as you looked at him through narrowed eyes, a glimmer behind your lashes from the many lights that hung above your head.

Miya Atsumu was an adult now and in his adult mind, he knew that the proper answer he should give to a stranger asking about the sugary mixture he just poured down his throat was that it tasted decent, expensive even, like the club he was sitting in now.

“It’s kinda shit,” he felt a strange swell in his chest when you let out an unfiltered snort at his answer, leaning back with his arms folded in front of his chest as he licked his lips, “yours?”

You lifted up the glass and necked down the rest of the coloured water, smacking your lips as the sweetness spread in your mouth. “Like the type of stuff they mark up and sell to high schoolers who couldn’t buy real alcohol.”

The bartender at the side threw you two a sharp look and you two sat up straighter, before bursting into a fit of laughter. He supposed you had to be tipsy at the very least and probably so was he, what sober person giggled like a child over trash talking overpriced liquor at a bar? “Why are you here at this trashy place?” you asked, now resting your chin on your palm with your elbow propping you up.

You did not know him, Atsumu was almost delighted by the fact that you likely just struck a conversation with him because he was another bored person trying to escape to the sidelines of dancing bodies just like you with no other intentions. “Got an invite and couldn’t say no because of work reasons,” he wasn’t exactly lying, he just didn’t say that he was supposed to be one of the main guests of this function.

“Ooo...” you let out a soft whistle, tilting your upper body forward him, “are you a big shot?”

He smirked.

Yes. “Not entirely.”

“Hm...” you sat back, your smile pursed as you tapped your finger on the table, “not denying it, huh?”

The vibration of your hum sent shivers to his spine and he blamed it on the very spiked drink he just gulped down. Atsumu ran his hand through his hair, a move he discovered in his teenage years that could let him smoothly fixed his hair while also flexing his arm. “I try to stay humble,” he replied, earning him a playful eye roll from you.

The melting ice clinked in the glass when he held it up against his lips, still looking at you from the corner of his eyes as he tilted it and let the pungent liquid run down his throat.

You nodded, returning to the laid back posture you kept before he sat down next to you at the dim corner of the bar table when you realised he wasn’t going to say more. “Fair enough,” you pretended to sound disappointed, holding your hand out in front of you to swiftly turn your attention away.

“You?”

“Got dragged here by a friend who works for the organiser,” you huffed, “don’t even know anyone here besides from them.”

Atsumu felt the warm buzz of the liquor spreading from his stomach to the rest of his body, settling onto his face as a tipsy fever. He did not look away from you and he was sure it was exactly what you wanted, mindlessly toying with your hand as you faced away from him. Your shoulders pulled back as you slid the thin ring off your index finger smoothly with your thumb, twisting it with the tips of your fingers before letting it fell down another one, all while pushing your hips back against the stool as you crossed your legs.

“Nice ring,” he tipped his chin slightly.

“Oh, this one,” you held your hand out to him, spreading your fingers apart to show him. You pulled back just slightly when he reached out, grinning teasingly at him when he quirked his brow up.

“my grandma gave it to me before she passed away,” you sighed, caressing the band that sat on your finger dreamily, “shoved it into my hand on her death bed and made me swore to never lose it, said it was given to her by her first love when she was a girl.”

“Oh,” Atsumu let out a soft gasp, “oh wow, I-”

He rolled his eyes when you broke out into laughter, the longing expression all gone from your face as you let out a hiccup through your giggling. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

He clicked his tongue, letting out a huff, “Lying isn’t good.”

“Neither is talking to a stranger at a club but I’m still here,” you wet your lips as you flashed a childish smirk, showing him your hand again. He was certain that he was drunk now, because there was no other way he could excuse the pounding in his chest when you didn’t pull away this time as he reached out to hold your hand for a better look.

“I got this as a pack of 5 for 800 yen online,” you said proudly, “quite the deal, if you ask me.”

He hummed in approval, letting out a shaky breath when you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip, the tip of your finger ticking the center of his palm before you lifted it away. It sent electricity trickling down his spine, the feeling of your touch lingering on his skin even as you were steps away from him again, once again staring at him with a smile tugging on your face like you were waiting for his move.

Was it a challenge or was it an invite? Either way, he was ready to take on whatever you were offering.

“You still owe me some sort of compensation for toying with my poor heart like that,” he mused, mimicking the way you leaned towards him from before.

You sniggered, “And what do you want from a poor stranger like me?”

The music playing through the speakers stopped temporarily and for a moment, the projected light illuminated his figure briefly before moving to another spot. You had not taken a good look at him until now, knowing full well that the attractiveness of anyone under the pink, dim glow of the bar was not to be trusted.

But he was really, really good-looking, even when you could actually see his face properly.

The next song started playing and the party people on the dance floor cheered. The loudness that returned made your head ache and you scrunched your nose in annoyance as the dj yelled into the mic. Atsumu threw his head back as the music returned, tapping his finger against his jaw.

“How about,” he said, knowing that you and he were likely to be on the same page, “you make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink somewhere where the drinks aren’t shit?”

You chuckled at his unfiltered suggestion, your laughter slurring into a hum as you grabbed your clutch by the side of the bar. “I can make up to you,” you asked as you stood up, tilting your head to your side, “by letting you pay for me?”

He nodded, smoothing out his shirt as he got up from his stool too.

You shrugged, pressing your palm to your face to let the coldness of your hand calm down the heat on your face as you grinned.

“Take me somewhere nice then, big shot.”

Even through his tipsy haze, Atsumu was sure that this was the most irrational thing he had done in a while but as you took his arm while he pulled you through the crowd and out in the open after being stuck in the same space with many drunk and sweaty bodies afterwards, he was quite certain that he couldn’t care less whether this was stupid or not.

If he had any regrets about it, he would just blame it on the alcohol.

Now that he was staring at a fake gold ring you got as a pack of 5 for not even a thousand yen, Atsumu could only tear at his own hair in regret when he realised that he didn’t ask for your name or contact at any point during which you went from the first bar to one he actually liked, then to many other because there was no way he would get this drunk after just two drinks, and finally stumbled through the door of his own house, before you disappeared as if you had never been there at all.

It was all the alcohol’s fault, fuck alcohol.

It was not his first time taking a near-stranger home and even though he wouldn’t want to say it out loud to people, he also couldn’t guarantee that this was the last time either. He should just forget about it and move on with his day, maybe make some tea, maybe get some soup to cure this heaviness in his head so he wouldn’t make it too obvious that he hadn’t been taking care of himself the way he really should. After all, there was really nothing he could do about it since he didn’t know anything about you other than what you looked like and that you wore cheap jewelry. But it left a strange tightness in his chest when he toyed with the gold ring in his hand, knowing full well that drunk or not he did enjoy his time with you even before it really got to the fun fun part.

He really should have just asked for your name like a normal person instead of trying to look cool and mysterious the moment you talked to him at the bar.

Miya Atsumu let out a sigh no one was there to hear as he slowly accepted the fact that not only was he hungover, he was also hung up, and put the only evidence he had of you ever being there with him into the key tray by his door.

He would figure out what to do with it later but for now, he was starving.

So Atsumu set off for the only one place he could think of that couldn’t kick him out no matter how annoying of a customer he was.

“Say, Samu...”

Miya Osamu sighed, putting the plate he was drying at the side and let the damped towel fell from his hand onto the side of the sink. His twin had finished his food a long while ago yet he was refusing to leave, planting his face down at his counter like a pile of mush as he took up the precious space of Onigiri Miya’s bar seat. Osamu liked to think that he was a supportive brother , by all means. He fed Atsumu, listened to his childish whines and didn’t kick him out when he started getting so loud that the other patrons sent him a worried glance. Maybe he should have pretended that he was about to head out for errands when he saw his twin marching in, slumping down on the stool like he owned the place (Miya Atsumu claimed that he had unlimited access by relation, Miya Osamu denied it with his life and told all his employees to just kick his twin out if he said that bullshit to them).

He was so nice, Osamu thought to himself, he was far too nice.

“What is it?” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest when he heard Atsumu’s muffled voice.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone without knowing their name?”

Oh god, what was he up to again?

“Depends,” Osamu snorted, picking his towel again when he realised that it was nothing too serious that he should stop his work to listen to, “if it happens to someone else, then sure, maybe, everything is possible. But if you're telling me that you think you’re in love with someone you don’t know,” he paused, before breaking into a wide grin, “I think I might laugh.”

“Hey!” Atsumu yelled, his fist slamming on the counter as he snapped his head up. The bang caught the attention of several other customers at the shop and Osamu sent them an apologetic bow before glaring at Atsumu who was rubbing his aching hand for slapping it against the wooden surface. “I’m being serious,” he muttered.

“Alright then,” Osamu nodded absent-mindedly, "so what are you going to do about it?”

Atsumu’s raised hand froze in the air before he slowly, robotically put it down, down, down until it was back on the counter together with the rest of his upper body.

Osamu’s nodding got firmer now, letting out yet another snigger, “Thought so.”

Atsumu let out a groan, deflating onto the counter more and more with each whine. He looked sad and pathetic, even more so than he usually was and even Osamu who was born immune to whatever teary rent he put on was starting to get concerned.

“Was the sex really that good?”

“it is not about the sex,” Atsumu mumbled, leaning his chin on top of his folded arms as he sighed, “I just... think we had a connection.”

Osamu laughed, the ugly kind, and earned himself a sharp glare. “A connection, huh?” he giggled, “you’re down bad.”

“It’s not funny...”

Hiccuping as he tried to calm himself down, Osamu placed a hand onto the kitchen counter to steady himself as his body vibrated.

“I still think you’re overreacting,” Osamu took in a deep breath, catching up after finally regaining his posture, “besides, you’re technically a public figure, right? If you can’t find them, why don’t you just try and get them to find you instead?”

Atsumu’s hiss about how he wasn’t overreacting stuck at the back of his throat when paused and thought of what Osamu had suggested.

“Huh,” he sat up a little straighter, eyes rolling inside of their sockets as he pondered, “that’s actually not a bad idea.”

"Of course it’s not,” Osamu huffed, “I’m the smart twin.”

“What did you just-”

Osamu ignored Atsumu’s glare, turning around to resume his work now that he seemed to have fulfilled his responsibility as a brilliant, amazing brother. He gave it a month, no, two weeks max before his brother forgot all about this person and moved on as if Atsumu had never shown up in front of his door with puffy eyes and a love-sick expression.

Oh, he just couldn’t wait to hear all the excuses and denial when he brought it up again the next time they get into a petty argument.

It was a terrible idea.

The Inarizaki volleyball alumni group chat exploded when the first post of what would be many to come was published for the world to see. Suna Rintarou, always so quick with capturing his old teammates embarrassing moments, kicked Atsumu out before he sent out links, screenshots, and pinged every single member of the group who did not read his message immediately. Miya Osamu refused to speak up about it, keep denying that he knew anything about it.

“I do not know this person,” his fingers hurt from how fast he was typing, not even bothering to correct the typos in his message before hitting send to clear his name, “I have no idea what has gotten into him but I’m not responsible for it.”

He was, in fact, telling the truth. Osamu was just as shocked and wide-eyed as everyone else was when he came across his twin’s post on Instagram as he scrolled through his feed mindlessly after work. Let us just say that all his sleepiness was gone when he saw his twin’s pretentious selfie of him standing in front of a window (shirtless), his hand holding onto the frame as he looked out into the grey sky. The posture was optimal for him to flex his back, letting the light seeping out around his frame do the trick of accentuating his muscles. Atsumu’s face was not entirely in the frame but Osamu did not need to see to know that he had his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze lowered into a look that was supposed to convey the message of “wow look at me, I’m so sad, and I’m also hot”.

Miya Osamu felt a metallic ting in his mouth when he imagined Atsumu’s face, so heart-wrenchingly similar to his own, making that look.

He got spammed by the group chat as soon as he clicked out of the app in horror, refusing to look at that monstrosity any longer. Ginjima was losing his mind, Akagi sent out strings of just him keyboard smashing, Oomimi replied with a very concerned sticker and proceed to not show up again, Kita who was not actually on Instagram at all said it wasn’t very nice of them to make fun of their friend like that but also didn’t quit the group chat himself. Ojiro was the last one to reply, seeming to be rather irritated after Suna kept tagging him and tagging him until he finally went online. Unlike the others who were still comprehending what had possibly got into their friend, he sent out a screenshot but this time with the caption of the post highlighted.

“Is he ok? Did he got dumped or something?”

Osamu did not look at the caption before it was brought to his attention, already feeling the impact sufficiently enough from the visual itself. He felt chills running through his arms and spreading to his entire body when he glanced at the string of words, his face scrunching up in disgust at how any sane person could type it out with their own hands.

“My world had not seen light since the day you left it without saying goodbye.”

He silently switched his status to “do not disturb” when the group chat exploded once again, knowing exactly what this was and that he was fully responsible for the pain he was experiencing right now.

Osamu tried to convince Atsumu that if anyone saw these, the only thing it would persuade them to do was run away instead of reaching out to him but it was to no avail. He was convinced that this was romantic and if he kept it up, it would create enough buzz that would possibly lead the stranger he was hoping to stumble across one of these painfully awful posts and recognise him. The posts kept coming and every day, Osamu felt more and more of an impulse to just block him for good so he wouldn’t have to open his feed each day with the fear of seeing things he did not want to see.

One day, on a beautiful weekend morning, when he finally had time to sit down and have a nice breakfast without rushing, Osamu opened his feed to see a glorious picture of his twin chest down (shirtless) on the bed, with the camera panning up to close up on his face from below. The blanket covered Atsumu’s torso loosely, showing just enough of his waist but not too much that he would get flagged. He had the lower half of his face behind his forearm, staring into the camera with such a sultry stare it made Osamu’s skin crawl.

“If I can start over, I’ll give up all I have just for another night with you.”

Osamu nearly didn’t manage to hold himself back from spitting out the water in his mouth.

The word slowly spread among the community. Suna, ever the enthusiastic teammate he was, shared his recently discovered source of joy with fellow EJP Raijin member Komori Motoya, who in turn spammed the latter’s cousin who had no choice but to acknowledge his teammate’s questionable online presence. Sakusa didn’t think he could ever have such a reaction to something that was not physically there to bother him and proceed to show it to the nearest person he could grab in the locker room, but not without reporting the post for containing unsettling images.

If he had to suffer, then he must make sure that there was someone else suffering with him too. Sakusa had no intention of being the only person who had to see Miya’s pretentious bathroom selfie where he stared into the camera all while running his fingers through dampened hair along with a caption Sakusa did not even want to read in his head. The “someone”, captain Meian Shugo who was really not paid enough for this, sighed as he wondered if this was worth reporting to management as a potential pr crisis. Tomas, somewhat curious by the look on his captain’s face, asked if this was the current social media trend in Japan to which all the players present fought to clear that misconception from his head in order to defend their nation’s honour.

Bokuto looked it up after hearing about the whispers and chats between breaks. “Why, this isn’t that bad!” he said cheerfully, “There are people complimenting him in the comments too! Look!”

The rest of the team spent a good chunk of time convincing him that he should think more cautiously about it when he suggested that perhaps he should try to take on this dynamic posing style for his social media accounts too.

It sure did stir up quite the storm among his fellow athletes and the many fans that were wondering what exactly, or who exactly, it was that caused this sudden shift in his behaviour online. The few people who knew the reason for Atsumu’s melancholy, namely Osamu and some others who could not escape from a venting Atsumu, were almost certain that you would have to at least see his face somehow. If he was still hearing nothing, then it was probably about time he gives up and accepts that you just didn’t want anything to do with him.

One thing that these men who put their entire lives into volleyball failed to take into account, however, was that not every person in the world was particularly interested in the sport that lived and breathed. For people who only heard about the sport if the Olympics were coming up, whatever the players were up to in their private lives was probably not something they would care too much about.

Sadly, for Miya Atsumu, the exact person he was looking for was one of those people.

“The fans are starting to go crazy, no one has any idea what is going on with him,” you pulled your phone slightly further away from your poor ears as your friend let out an exasperated yell from the other end of the call.

They lost you when they started talking about this athlete they had a celeb crush on and how they had been acting very strange in their posts lately, realising that this would become one of their ramblings about people with names you barely remember. They bombed your phone in the middle of the day when they found out that their company would be sponsoring a sports team they were obsessed with and did not stop until you threatened to block them until they had calmed down. You still hadn’t forgiven them completely for disappearing out of nowhere after begging you to attend a company function with them all with the reasoning that if they came across one of the players that would also be invited, you could be there to stop them from embarrassing themselves. That was not entirely useful, given that they were whisked away by their colleagues not even an hour into the event and leaving you all on your own.

If it wasn’t for them, then none of the events following that night would have ever happened.

But the past was past and as they called you again to talk about how they were heartbroken because their fav might be seeing someone, you did not stop them, obviously, since you were a great friend.

A sigh called your attention back and you silently closed your dash of animal videos to focus on what they were saying. “Are you even listening?”

“Uhm...” you hummed, “emo thirst traps, you were saying?”

“We tried to dig down all the accounts he was following but no one was posting anything that might match up to his posts,” they let out a whine.

“So,” you said, “are you still going to see him this weekend even if you are heartbroken or?”

They gasped before you suggested that if they didn’t want to go anymore, then you would do something else rather than sitting through a game you were not interested in. “Of course we’re still going!” they emphasised on the ‘we’, “who knows when I’ll get front row tickets again once the sponsorship ends and they aren’t giving the company tickets anymore!”

They paused. “You’re still going with me,” it sounded more like a threat and a statement than a question, and they asked again when you didn’t reply, “you’re going with me, aren’t you?”

You sighed. They were usually pretty laid back, except when it has something to do with volleyball. What was it with volleyball? It was like... football but with hands, tennis without a rack, basketball but with no basket. Ball sports, they were all the same in your eyes. But despite your lack of interest, the truth was that you wouldn’t have anything else to do if you didn’t go with them anyways and you did promise you would go as long as you didn’t have to pay a single dollar.

So you sighed again, earning you a displeased click of the tongue from the other end of the call.

Your lack of interest maintained when the day came. You didn’t think you had ever been to a stadium when there was a game going on before and the arena was already filling up with people waiting to get it by the time you were there. You were delightedly surprised when you learnt that there would be vendors selling food, silently deciding that the very nice yakionigiri you got from one of the stalls might just be the highlight of your day.

The staff at the store looked vaguely familiar, but you had no idea where you would have possibly seen him before.

When the lights of the venue switched off out of nowhere and the crowd cheered, perhaps you could finally start to understand why your friend was such a fanatic for sports. There was something exciting and grand about the bright spotlights and the announcer’s voice pounding through your ears from the speakers. You peeked at your side to see your friend’s eyes glimmering in a way you had never seen before and chuckled to yourself, leaning back with your legs crossed to watch the game in a better position as the players’ names were called one by one.

You froze in place when you saw a very familiar face on every screen around the stadium.

“Number 13, Miya Atsumu!”

What happened to not being a big shot?

Screams filled up the stadium, especially ear grating when the loudest person seemed to be the one right next to you but your mind was an utter state of blank. You were not expecting to see him again, ever again but here you were, with the next several hours of your life stuck watching the man you ditched after a drunken one night stand in the very front row. He looked more put together than your last image of him, the tussled hair replaced by a careful side swoop and the fitted jersey giving him a fresher look compared to the suit he met you in. He seemed to enjoy the attention, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he marched out and waved languidly around the stadium.

You thanked the genius who separated the court and the seats into two floors, hiding you away with the distance even though you were sitting at the very front.

“Oh my god, he’s looking at this direction, he’s looking at this direction!” your friend’s vigorous tug at your sleeve brought your void gaze back to the court.

You were convinced that there was no way he could spot you from that far away. Hell, it was still up to question whether he could see any of the audience with all the lights shining onto his face. But for a moment, just a brief moment, you had a gut feeling that your eyes met in that split second when you looked down and his gaze stopped at right where you were.

“What are you looking at?” Hinata asked, turning his head to the direction Atsumu kept stealing glances at as they lined up in front of the net but saw nothing.

Atsumu shook his head, giving a laugh to pass off the moment when he lost his composure when he thought he saw the face he kept thinking of since that night in the crowd. It has got to be an illusion, he must have been blinded by the lights. Stupid lights, he cursed under his breath before turning to his teammate. “It was nothing,” he smiled, his gaze shifting to the corner he thought he saw you at before quickly snapping back to the court, “just... thought I saw someone I know.”

He did not look at you again throughout the game much to your relief. But this time, you found it hard to stop your eyes from following him around. You would like to argue that it was because you didn’t know any of the other players and the way your friend kept gushing whenever he did something made it hard for you to ignore him but the way he seemed to flourish on court. Something inside of you jumped whenever he scored a point and the live cameras panned up at his face again, showing the satisfied grin and slanted eyes plastered on him. He did what he does so well and with so much confidence and for some reason, that explained to you just why you decided to leave with him that night at the club in the strangest way possible.

He was, still, very good-looking even under the lights and under your sober judgement, perhaps even more so than your blurry memory of how he looked like with a flushed face. But the true hit to your chest was when the entire stadium was watching him as he got to the serving position, taking strides forward before raising his hand to the air.

The world stopped when the entire ground fell to silence at his command, and you took a deep, shaky inhale when you thought of how this person had kissed you again and again on a drunken night until you were both out of breath.

Atsumu was almost 99.9% sure he truly did see you when the match ended.

That last 0.1% was deducted because it was a really good match ending with a win for the Black Jackals and as hot-headed as he could be, he knew better than to believe everything that his adrenaline-filled brain was trying to tell him. But with the spotlights of the stadium dimmed and his full attention no longer required on the court, Atsumu looked straight at where he was sure you had sat the moment the stadium doors opened and people started leaving. It was a blurry glance, just a quick in and out of his vision but he was sure he saw you slipping out of the front row before disappearing into the stairs.

He knew he could still be wrong, but the sudden realisation that he might be the closest to you now than he would ever be again left him frozen in the middle of the court as he stared blankly at the exit. Reporters were starting to gather around the players and his presence was expected, but his legs started moving before the call of his name by the rest of his team could land on his ear.

Pushing through the crowd, the gasps and shocked chatters of the guests who saw the player they just watched dashing out the stadium were none of his concern. All he cared about was to run faster, faster, past the hall and past the people of the stalls that were packing up. He might have just mistaken someone else for you and if it really was you, you might have already left before he could get to the front entrance of the stadium but that did not matter. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that you had been there and if he ran fast enough, there was still a chance that his search all along would not be in vain.

Miya Atsumu was not exactly a believer of fate or a divine destiny but as he stumbled with tired legs down the steps of the grand glass door, he silently made a bet with the beings he wasn’t sure were truly there that if he missed you this time, he would take the defeat that your paths were not meant to cross again and give up.

And the beings, who Atsumu believed was actually there for the first time ever, answered his calls.

“Wait!”

Your feet planted into the concrete when you heard a yell behind you. Your jaw dropped when you hesitantly turned around to see him, whose name you now know thanks to the match, stopping just a few steps away from you with his hands on his knees, seemingly out of breath with his arm reached out. His eyes widened when he looked up and saw that you had stopped there, and you were exactly who he thought you might be. He was heaving, sweat drenching his face but he still took a few stumbled steps towards you until he was right in front of you.

A few words fell out of his mouth but were cut short by his panting. Your head was still not reacting when he finally managed to stand back up, looking right at you even as his breathing stayed erratic.

What does one say to a one night stand that they ditched right when the morning comes?

“So,” you blurted, trying to ignore the heat on your face and the anxiousness in your chest, “not a big shot, huh?”

He let out a snort, his voice cracking as he ran his hand down his face to wipe away the sweat that was starting to get into his eyes. He could finally take the time to look at you now, after confirming that you would not disappear if he did so little as blink.

You were gorgeous, and suddenly all the things he had wanted to say to you sounded ridiculously stupid.

I tried to look for you.

“You left your ring at my place,” he said, his voice still shaking from the sprint he took, growing softer and softer with each word that came out.

“Oh,” you replied, nodding stiffly to try and brush away your nerves.

“Yeah,” he nodded too, and opened his mouth again after taking a gulp to swallow down the knot at the back of his throat, “we should arrange a time to meet so you can take it back from me.”

“Oh,” you stood just a little straighter, “but-”

But it was just one of the five I got in a pack so it really, really didn’t matter that much.

“You said,” he looked down, holding back a smile as he thought of what you had said to him, “you said your grandma made you swore to never lose it.”

He remembered.

“Yes,” you pressed your lips together to stop the chuckle from coming out, “yes I was.”

“So you should come and get it back from me,” he suggested, the last note of his sentence going up as if he wasn’t sure of himself either.

“Yeah,” he beamed when you smiled sheepishly, “I should.”

“Ok good, good,” he murmured in joyful disbelief, grinning ear to ear. The grin faded suddenly when he thought of one very important thing he had forgotten to do last time and must not forget this time.

“Can I have your name?”

You burst out into laughter. “You can have my number too, if that’s what you want,” you mused, “Miya.”

A rush of heat washed through his face at the sound of his name out of your mouth. He would die if you call him by his first name later on, he was sure of it.

“Yes,” he said almost embarrassingly fast, “yes I would love that. I-” he groaned when he realised that he still had his phone in his jacket that was left in the locker room.

“Wait for me here,” he had already started walking backwards, snapping towards you with his hand out as he added in panic, “don’t go anywhere!”

You still hadn’t stopped laughing when he sprinted back into the stadium again like his life depended on it.

Bonus

Miya Atsumu deleted all of the posts he made during his search for you the moment he added your contacts into his phone, but what he did not count was that there were other people who would preserve those precious memories for him.

It was a few weeks after he caught up to you in front of the stadium and several days after your relationship went public. Your friend had nearly torn your eardrums apart when they learnt that you were the mysterious person they had been hunting after but overall, dating Atsumu had been great, even to the point where you thought it was so stupid of you to run away from him in the first place.

You got a notification that someone direct messaged you on instagram as you were getting ready for a date night.

It was not someone you know but there was a verification mark next to his username. Clicking into his profile, you assumed that it must be one of Atsumu’s friends in the volleyball circle when you saw the line saying “EJP Raijin middle blocker”.

“Hi, I’m Suna, I was on the same high school team as your boyfriend was. I don’t think we have met but I’m sure we will be very good friends.”

Before you could manage to type out a reply, he sent you multiple pictures and you paused as they loaded, wondering what Atsumu’s old high school teammate might send you.

You blinked when the pictures finally finished loading, and silently dialed your boyfriend’s number.

“Do you have something you forgot to tell me about what you have done in order to try and find me online?”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu imagines

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15-dogs · 3 years

Text

partnered up |r.l.|

pairing: young!remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: you and your long time crush, remus, get partnered up for a defense against the dark arts theory. however, once you realize you two misunderstood the assignment, you’re both forced to stay over winter break with each other to make it up.

prompt: new years kiss

warnings: extremely light swearing, mentions of bloodied bandages (it’s super fluffy i promise!!)

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is for @whack-ed and @jamilelucato‘s writing challenge (which you can check out here!) thank you so much for letting me participate! go check out their blogs!!

•••

Remus couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You whispered with Lily at the desk in front of him while your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor turned his back.

Remus’ eyes trained on you, watching your every movement. He was absolutely enamored with the little things you did: the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed, the way your fingers drummed on the table while you spoke, the way your eyes would shift between Lily and the professor, seemingly taunting Remus but just grazing over his figure.

“Moony!” Sirius hissed, nudging Remus.

“What?” Remus finally looked away from you to eye his friend.

“Would you just go talk to her? I think I’m going to lose my mind if I have to see you ogling her every day.”

Remus’s brow knit together with annoyance. “What are you talking about? I don’t fancy her.”

Sirius’ eyes shot open with a taunt. “I never said that you did.”

Remus shook his head, looking away from Sirius back towards your seat. “It was implied,” he grumbled.

When Remus looked at your desk, you were gone. He searched around the room for you and realized that no one else was in their seats. His eyes continued to scan the room until a soft and familiar giggle interrupted him. His gaze snapped up to yours as you stood by his side.

“Were you listening?” you teased.

“I...er…” Remus’ cheeks heated up as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You nudged his shoulder with your hip, your hands clasped behind your back and eyes at the front of the classroom. “I’m just messing with you. We’re partners for this assignment, Lupin.”

His eyes lit up and his stomach flipped as he jumped to his feet. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you chuckled. You nodded your head for him to follow as you said, “What do you want to do for the assignment? I was thinking that we could do a series of essays or a collection of data composed into a journal of our works— something research based, preferably.”

Remus scuffed his feet along the tiling, finding it much more comfortable to stare at the ground. You stopped when you realized that he wasn’t following you. You ducked down to meet his eyes with a lazy smile tugging at your lips that had him weak in the knees.

“Let me guess,” you began, “you weren’t paying attention then, either?”

“I...no, not really.”

You reached out to take his hand in yours, making his heart lurch. You had no idea what you were doing to him, your delicate grasp around his calloused palm. Having the girl he fancied for years be so close to him coupled with his heightened senses was dangerous, to say the least; your smell was intoxicating and he was doing everything he could not to act on his feelings then and there.

“What’s got you so distracted, Lupin?” Your voice grounded him and he attempted to push his thoughts about what he wanted to do to you down, deep in the back of his mind. “You’re usually so on top of your game. You may even rival Lily for wits.”

Remus quirked a brow. “That must be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he joked. You dipped your head in silent laughter.

“I aim to please.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job.”

A wide smile crept onto your face and that familiar feeling of butterflies occupied your stomach as you stared down Remus’s lopsided grin. You quickly let go of his hand, fearful that the feeling would stay permanently if you kept holding it. You rubbed your hands on your sweater before clasping them in front of your body, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.

“Anyway,” you sighed, “we’re doing a project on Defense theory.”

“Oh,” he scoffed with a sense of conviction, “then research-based, of course. When is it due?”

“Monday before winter break.”

Remus pulled a horribly crumpled paper out of his robe pocket, unfolding it with haste. “I’m tutoring every day after classes except for Fridays.” He finally looked up at you, his piercing blue-green eyes staring straight through you. “Could you meet me at the library after class on Friday?”

You nodded lamely, feeling as if you couldn’t get words out of your mouth. “Yeah, Friday after school works for me.”

“Brilliant.” Remus crumpled up the paper once more and stuffed it into his pocket.

As Remus’ friends appeared by his side and escorted him from the classroom, you had a strange feeling settle in your stomach: you weren’t too sure that you could wait until Friday to talk to him again.

•••

Days came and went, each more meaningful than the next as Friday approached. You had no idea what had you so anxious in your last class. You were bouncing your leg up and down as your distracted eyes scoured the classroom. Lily nudged you a few times, whispering an answer under her breath when the professor called on you.

Nearing the end of class, you and Lily were working on an assignment together when she asked, “What has gotten into you?”

Your brows knit together as you eyed your friend. “Is it that obvious?”

An amused smile tugged at the corners of Lily’s lips. “Is this about Remus?”

“And what if it is?”

“Then I’d say you fancy the boy.”

You nudged Lily, rolling your eyes. “Sod off.”

Lily knew about your not-so-little crush on Remus, even before you had told her aloud. You knew he didn’t feel the same so you constantly checked yourself to make sure your emotions were under control around him.

So, at the end of the day, you made your way as calmly yet quickly as you could to the library, hoping to spend a little more time with him to justify your feelings. You didn’t see him there when you arrived but you weren’t discouraged, rather you found a secluded desk that just barely gave you a view of the entrance so you could wave him over.

But time kept passing and you kept waiting. You checked the clock above the shelves of books, hoping maybe you screwed up the times, but you didn’t. You then began to ask around to see if it truly was Friday, which it was. And then, worst of all, you began to think that you misheard him and blew him off.

You waited there for a few hours, deciding to make yourself busy with work. You started the project, checking out a few books and developing your thesis.

You tried to work in the library just in case Remus showed, you really did, but everyone was just too loud. Your head pounded and your tiredness overtook you, so you picked up your things and walked down to the hospital wing in hopes of some draught for your pulsing headache.

As you entered the wing, books in hand, you heard faint whispers from familiar voices surrounding a single bed, piquing your interest. You rounded the corner, finding three boys talking to another boy in a bed. Not just any boy, but him.

“Remus?” you asked.

The three boys whipped around, eyes wide and heads shaking as you approached. “You shouldn’t be here,” James warned.

You ignored him and butt through the crowd to find Remus, asleep and bandaged in his cot. You gasped, staring at the bloodied cloth that was pressed against his cheek. “What happened to him?”

The boys began to mumble excuses, all of which hit your tuned out ears. You frowned, pulling a chair from beside an empty bed to sit next to Remus’s sleeping form. You pulled your bag onto your lap, unloading a few books and papers onto the nightstand.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing, (Y/L/N)?” asked Sirius.

Without looking up, you stated, “We have a project due on Monday and I’m not going to wait to start it.” You finally met the boys’ eyes, yours serious and matter of fact while they were in complete shock. “Besides, I’ll keep Lupin company. Go on, now. I’ll watch him.”

“(Y/L/N)-” James began before Sirius cut him off, eyes wide and nodding.

“No, no, Prongs. Let her stay, Remus will want to see her when he wakes up.”

You pretended not to hear him but your cheeks were dusted with a rosy blush. Sirius clapped you on the back, evoking a small chuckle from you as the boys scooted out of the hospital wing.

As soon as the boys left, you stopped fiddling with the papers in your lap to look up at Remus. You frowned at his scarred face, your hand curling to stop yourself from holding his. He looked so peaceful for the first time in quite a long time, and you realized that you didn’t think you could look away. So you scooted your chair over, freeing your nondominant hand to hold his as you worked on the assignment, a fleet of butterflies occupying your stomach.

You had fallen asleep still holding Remus’s hand later in the night once you had cleared things about your appearance with Pomfrey. You only woke up when you felt someone pulling the papers out of your lap. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing Remus frowning as he held your notebook in one hand and gripped the mattress in the other.

“Did I wake you?” he asked before cursing at himself under his breath. “That was a stupid question, I know I just woke you up.”

You chuckled lightly. “It’s fine, Remus, I should’ve been working on the project anyway.”

The sandy haired boy awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed that you had brought the project up. “Sorry I haven’t been so helpful with that. I ended up...getting into a fight on Friday?”

You furrowed your brow. “I’m sorry, was that a question?”

“Yes…?”

You began to laugh again, but this time Remus joined you. “Well, whatever happened to you, you’re fine now. I’ve been talking to Pomfrey and she assured me you’ll be out of here on Monday.”

“What day is it?”

“Saturday.”

Remus sat up straight in bed, tugging your notebook fully onto his lap. “Shit, well, we need to start this project then.”

•••

Spending the entire weekend with Remus was heavenly. You two worked day in and day out to finish your research paper, editing everything down to the last period before Defense Against the Dark Arts.

As you entered the classroom, you felt a wave of sadness wash over you; no more excuses to be alone with Remus anymore. You frowned, tugging your robes tighter around your body as you imagined what it would be like for him to hold you.

The time came for you two to announce the synopsis of your paper so you stood at the front of the class with him, straightening out your tie with a shy smile. Remus held up the thick stack of papers you two had written up with a proud glance down at you.

“Miss (Y/L/N) and I have written up a paper on the practical applications of Defense theory-”

“Mr. Lupin,” Professor Wallace interrupted, “you do know that— if you were to do practical theory— you have to design a demonstration, yes?”

You looked up at him, a shared expression of panic on both your faces. Remus finally peeled his eyes away from you to shake his head gently at your professor who simply huffed, pointing you back towards your seats. Students began to whisper and giggle at your misfortune, reveling in the sheer schadenfreude that they experienced as yours and Remus’ ears went red with embarrassment.

You could barely pay attention during the rest of the presentations. It ate you up inside how Remus might only remember you as the girl who helped him flunk his project in Defense. You were so consumed by that thought that you didn’t even realize class had ended until Remus tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t know about it either. Don’t be upset,” he whispered. “I hate seeing you upset.”

You flashed a soft smile at him, a warmth blossoming in your chest at his words. You chewed your bottom lip to contain yourself from positively beaming at him as you nodded, feeling more overwhelmed with your feelings for him than before.

“Mr. Lupin and Miss (Y/L/N)?” Professor Wallace called from the head of the classroom as students exited. “Please come here. I’d like to discuss your project.”

That warmth died immediately and was replaced by a crippling fear that started low in your stomach, a void that sucked in all the good things that Remus made you feel.

Remus hopped up from his chair alongside you and walked up to the desk, his lips pressed in a firm line. “Professor, this was all my fault-”

“What in Merlin’s name are you saying, Remus-” you shot out. Remus was not going to take the blame for you, you wouldn’t let him.

“I wasn’t paying attention. Don’t give Miss (Y/L/N) a poor grade just because of me-”

“Don’t say that! It was my fault, Remus, and you know it-”

“Silence! Both of you! Please!” Professor Wallace’s voice began to falter at your bickering. He rubbed both of his temples with one hand, his eyes clenched shut. “I understand that you were ill over the weekend, Mr. Lupin, and I also understand that being a prefect has its tolls so I’m allowing you lot to make up the assignment.”

You and Remus let out a sigh of relief, exchanging a quick grin at one another.

“We really appreciate it, professor-” As soon as you started, you were cut off.

“But I’m not going to make this easy. You two must stay here over break and there will be more work than before. I want to make sure that you’re really listening to my instructions this time around.”

You desperately wanted to protest but you simply couldn’t; you didn’t quite have the words. You weren’t going home for break in the first place but it seemed rather unnecessary to add more work onto what you had already completed with Remus. Judging from Remus’ knit brows, he was having the same dilemma as well. So you two accepted the assignment, not knowing that that break would be the start of something wonderful and new.

•••

Although the assignment had an increased workload, it was easy to spread out among the two weeks that you were given. The best part of all was that you got to spend time alone with Remus in the castle where there were no more than 20 other students to bother you.

On Christmas night, you sat in front of the fireplace editing your essay as Remus practiced spells on a small paper crane he had folded. You looked up for a moment, smiling at how peaceful and handsome he looked with his sleeves rolled up and shirt untucked.

And, entirely unlike you, the words just...came out of your mouth. “You’re quite handsome like that, you know.”

Remus blushed, his eyebrows raised as he slowly turned his head to face your mortified expression. “I...thanks.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, looking down at your paper again. “Right, yeah.”

But that wasn’t the last time something of that nature happened. Remus told you he was “driven mad” when he saw you practicing your spells for the demonstration, and you promptly told him that he drives you mad, to which you both stopped talking to each other for the rest of the night out of sheer embarrassment.

Perhaps it was the fact that you two were cooped up together for nearly a week and a half then, or perhaps it was the fact that you two had felt something there for quite some time but neither of you had the guts to do anything about it. Either way, both of you were acting entirely stupid around the other, wondering if they knew by now how you felt about them.

The days leading up to your presentation dwindled and so did the time you had to spend with Remus. You assumed that he likely would not want to talk to you afterwards and just want to spend his New Years alone, seeing as how he must be positively sick of you. So you found it rather strange when you finished your (outstanding) project, that Remus settled beside you on the couch in the common room with his old radio so you two could listen to the New Year’s Eve countdown.

“In my town,” he explained, “we used to gather in the center and celebrate New Years. I quite liked it. First year not being there.”

You cowered. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you’re not there now.”

Remus shook his head furiously, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch where you sat. “I wasn’t going home this year anyway. And, besides, (Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who was distracted.”

You crossed your legs and swung around to face Remus, admiring his scars. “You keep talking about being distracted; what were you distracted about in the first place?”

“Funnily enough,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “it was you.”

You snorted and shoved Remus playfully, although he didn’t seem to be smiling. “Come off it, mate.”

“I’m not joking. I remember it because you looked particularly beautiful that day.” Your eyes went wide at his words and you were unable to speak, so he continued on. “You always look beautiful when you take notes. You chew your bottom lip when you write a long sentence down and you give a little nod when you understand something. It’s all very adorable, if you ask me. I couldn’t stop staring at you and Sirius called me out on it.”

You were positive that your face was redder than the fire that illuminated you, your hands sweating as you tried to rub them on your pants as inconspicuous as possible. You could barely focus on anything but your ever-beating heart, pounding ferociously in your chest. The only thing that you could hear above it was the 30 second countdown coming from his radio.

“Have you ever had a New Year’s kiss, Remus?” you asked, your voice just barely louder than the announcer’s.

Remus leaned in closer, his hand inching up to your waist and curling around it. “I haven’t.”

“Neither have I,” you admitted as you crawled up close to him. “But I fear that I’ll be making a rather large mistake if I don’t do this tonight because Merlin knows when I’ll get the courage to do it again.”

“3...2...1! Happy New Year!”

The second the words registered, you held Remus’s face in your hands, pulling him into a long overdue kiss. Your world spun around you as his lips moved perfectly in sync with yours, feeling like they were supposed to be there all along. You pulled away a moment later, placing one last chaste peck as he followed your lips, desperate for more. Remus rested his forehead against yours, his calloused hand running its course down your cheek before he tugged you onto his lap, clasping his hands around your back.

“I have to admit,” you began, “I’ve never been more glad to flunk a project in my life. Starting the New Year this way is good luck, I believe.”

Remus chuckled, pulling you closer to him to plant yet another kiss on your lips. “Well then, love, I suppose we’ll have plenty of good luck this coming year.”

As your heart eased into a steady rhythm and your worries dissipated, you smiled and mumbled against him, “I suppose we can never be too careful.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @pandaxnienke

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masked-buffoon · 4 years

Text

Chapter 3.5: No Moral nor Decency (Part 6)

Warnings: none

Author notes: so much parts...! Although they are rather short... But finally, we are back to the Port Mafia!

The next morning, before anyone had even opened an eye, I checked that Vilfredo was dead. His pulse had stopped, as well as his breathing. It was fortunate that he had pushed Apollonia away. She would not wake up in the arms of a corpse, this way. I sighed in relief. Finally, that mission was over. The Cosola family was torn by conflicts, which would ensure us a solid win. I decided to gather my belongings to leave the place. Dazai-san had ordered me to come back as soon as it was over.

Outside, the air was fresh. The night sky was slowly changing its colour as the sun rose, yet the moon was still high and full, staring down at us from above. There was a light breeze, which awakened my cough, so I tightened my coat around myself and took a few pain relievers. That headache had not gotten any better, even without Dazai-san's terrible training. The day was still young and I could have gone back to my room for a quick rest, but I decided to head towards the Port Mafia immediately, thinking that my superior needed my report as soon as possible to give his next orders. I wondered how Gustavo would react upon learning about my disappearance. Would he believe I was a traitor? Or would he just think something had happened to me? I sighed and entered the building of the underground organisation. After all, I did not care. He was engaged to "Kasumi", but my name was Ogawa Yōko. I had nothing to do with him anymore. I crossed the empty hall to take the elevator. There were only few guards, who greeted me. Everyone else was sleeping at such an early hour. I doubted Dazai-san was even in his office, but, at the very least, he would see me later. That place was more comfortable than my own apartment, so I would rather lay on the couch waiting for him than wasting time going back to my room.

The door of my superior's office was slightly opened, and there was no sound coming from the inside. Without bothering to knock, expecting a consequent punishment if he was there, I pushed the door a little, and I saw him. His upper body was heavily laying on the wooden surface of his desk, his bangs covering his closed eyes, and his fingers were still holding a pen between them. Who would have thought that the demon prodigy of the underworld was able to sleep so soundly, so harmlessly...? Immediately, I grabbed his large, black coat on the coatrack and softly put it over his shoulders, covering him so he would not get a cold. Then, I delicately removed the pen from his hand and put it further before cleaning his desk from the messy piles of undone paperwork.

Was it not odd...? Dazai-san was there, powerless, at my mercy, in front of me. I could have done a million things to him. There were numerous ways I could have used to kill him, from taking a knife to slaughter him, to pulling my gun out to blow his head off. I could also have taken the opportunity to use him and his ability to cancel mine and finally get some rest. I did not. Instead, I was taking care of him and making sure he would not catch a cold. It was so raging and frustrating to realise that, once again, I was not able to free myself from that man who tortured and kept me prisoner of my duties.

Exhausted, I let myself fall onto a couch and sighed, pulling my box of pain relievers to put a few pills in my mouth. I would just close my eyes and wait for him to wake up and bark at me as usual...

"Such a troublesome superior..." I muttered.

"You're such a troublesome subordinate as well, Ogawa-kun." His tired voice answered.

I sat up immediately, only to meet his left eye, wide open on me through his strands of air.

"Dazai-san..." I clenched my fists "You were awake..."

"I have been since the moment you stepped in there." He said, making me blemish in fear.

Then he had been aware of everything. I suddenly felt very wary about my behaviour. Would he scold me for putting his coat over his shoulders...?

"Is that so...?" I murmured.

"Yes. Why did you do that?"

I frowned. What was he talking about?

"Why didn't you try to kill me?" He added, seeing I was too dumbfounded to answer.

"... I don't know..." I admitted, avoiding his look "I acted without thinking..."

"Without thinking?" He raised an eyebrow "You're not a child anymore."

He looked annoyed, or perhaps disappointed. I wondered what kind of answer he had expected from me, but it was true that I had not been able to harm him.

"No, indeed... Perhaps does my loyalty surpass my fear, Dazai-san." I tried to come up with a satisfying explanation.

"Fear...? Not hatred...?"

"I am not one to hate you, Dazai-san. Besides, there are plenty of other people who do that perfectly." I cracked a small smile.

"Indeed..." He smiled as well, for the first time in front of me "Know what, Ogawa-kun? Having you back here... It isn't too bad, after all."

"Really...?" I breathed out, taken aback "Do you mean it...?"

"Don't make me repeat it."

"Of course..."

His tall frame unfolded slowly as he stood up from his office chair and stretched lazily, making his coat fall from his shoulders, without paying attention to it at all, and letting the piece of cloth lay crumpled on the ground.

"Dazai-san, you should rest..." I dared to advise him, seeing how circled his non-bandaged eye was and oddly feeling concerned.

"Not when it's finally time to attack." He grinned "The Cosola family is ruined from the inside and you managed to have their most intelligent member killed. I must admit you did a good job."

"Thank you, Dazai-san..." I was glad to hear his praises.

"But it is not over." He warned "For our next step, we will arouse their hatred for the Port Mafia."

"How will we do that?"

"First, we'll fake your death. We'll say we killed you, simply. Since you were engaged to one of them, it will be enough to anger them. Then, we'll capture the other girl, the daughter." He told me.

"What do you want Apollonia for...?" I frowned "There is no need to harm her..."

"You'll see soon enough. For now, you don't need to do anything."

"Yes, Dazai-san..." I muttered, lowering my head.

"Don't be so worried about those people." He sighed, getting closer to me "They may have treated you well, but that is all there is to it."

"I know... But Apollonia has nothing to do with that..."

"She is a pawn on the board. Ogawa-kun, you did a good job, but if you want to keep being a player instead of a pawn, then you must not care about such pointless matters."

"I know, Dazai-san..." I gritted my teeth.

"The world we live in doesn't accept pity..." He said, putting his hand on my head "I wished you weren't so empathetic..."

"I am nowhere... Near... Empathetic..." My voice trailed off "That is just... Baseless guilt..."

"Yes... Yes, indeed..." He agreed "Guilt..."

I closed my eyes and collapsed, at last.

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zertzertzhang · 4 years

Text

I Need a Hero (Literally) Chapter 2: Deal

The viceroy was a small man.

By that, Nezha meant no taller than four feet. Yes. He was that tiny.

It made Nezha want to excuse himself and forget he ever accepted the case.

“Ahem,” Viceroy Chen cleared his throat. The proud haughtiness that shrouded him minutes before had drained from his body, leaving a puddle of apprehension in his wake.

Nezha could practically hear the gears in Viceroy Chen’s head turn as he debated if he should even trust him.

It was no secret the Viceroy held the same, if not, worse opinion regarding Nezha. The way his beady eyes bulged like he saw the grim reaper himself was comical if under different circumstances.

Though to be fair, Nezha found glee with the fact his mere presence could silence the imp-like man of all arrogant pretense.

It warmed his heart to think that the Viceroy would shut up as soon as he realized he was under the looming shadow of the much taller young man.

“I would like to express my appreciation, once again,” Viceroy Chen emphasized. “For offering to save my bride from the hideous dragon. I will be forever in your debt!”

Staring down at the groveling man, Nezha snorted at the saccharine monologue. If there’s one thing he learned about Chentang Pass over the years, it was the discouraging amount of genuine gratitude and appreciation the people really held inside.

Viceroy Chen was the hallmark of all that. And Nezha would rather choke on a tang-hulu than hear another fake thank you from the old man.

“So you’ll speak to the town on my behalf to allow me full freedom to roam Chentang without the headache from villagers.” It wasn’t a question, more like an affirmation.

Never in his life would Nezha ever find it in himself to beg for favors. He always assumed the silent agreement between him and anyone else would be respected, lest someone wished to become the next barbeque for the community picnic.

“Y-yes!” The Viceroy stretched his grin a bit too wide, compensating for his chattering teeth. “Bring my bride in one piece and your wish is at my command.”

The pompous confidence of the man was the last straw. Nezha didn’t bother to hide his contempt as he leered down at the four-footed Viceroy.

“Don’t get too excited,” Nezha snapped. “She ain’t your wife yet. Who knows maybe the dragon gobbled her up after all these years.”

His outburst earned him a hard slap upside the head from Lady Yin. The mother sent him a dirty look, stunning the young man into momentary silence.

“My apologies, Viceroy!” Lady Yin exclaimed. “He woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. He’s usually a sweetheart, I guarantee it!”

‘Sweetheart’ and ‘Nezha’ never existed in the same sentence. The fact that his mother, someone who his very existence tormented since day one, was the first to suggest so made him burst out cackling.

He never asked for compliments.

Slinging his waistcoat over his shoulders, Nezha blew out a whistle. “Whatever. I’ll get it done. Ya better pay up afterward or you’re dead meat.”

Viceroy Chen whimpered a meek ‘of course’ before hitting the ground on his knees once more. Nezha wasn’t sure if he was begging for his life or repeating his broken record of thanks.

Stupid. Tsking, he stepped out of the manor, ignoring the angry chatter from Lady Yin. Nezha hadn’t the heart to tell her to shut up, so he resorted to blocking the babble from her. One of the many perks of the reincarnation of a spirit orb.

His thoughts trailed back to the quivering Viceroy Chen, tangling into a throbbing mess that pulsed against his skull.

Whoever was in that pagoda was not going to have a happy wedding. Nezha still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact Chen had somehow become the Viceroy amongst all people.

He shuddered at the thought of anyone willing to throw themselves at Chen.

But Nezha was quick to jump over the negatives. At least the woman won’t be cursed anymore, so that’s a plus...He guessed.

Unlike him, no one was going to send a few kisses over and rid him of his problems.

There was no reason to feel sorry for some random stranger who had it better. Pushing the thoughts aside, Nezha found himself strolling near towards the beach, away from Li Manor.

The sun was more than halfway done with its descent behind the mountains, reminding Nezha of the long journey from the Viceroy's manor.

He craved a good stretch after sitting on a horse for hours on end.

Lady Yin noticed his change in route and was on edge in an instant. “Wait Nezha! Where are you going?”

Said man didn’t bother to turn around, rather waving a hand. “I need some time alone. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“But-”

“Relax, mom!” Nezha snapped. “I’m not gonna eat the kids.”

It wasn’t like Lady Yin was in the condition to stop him anyway. No one could. Nezha was off his steed within seconds, darting into the woods before anyone could open their mouths to protest.

The night had just made its entrance not long enough when Nezha found his way back to the beach. He prayed it would help smooth the firing nerves he held down for the entirety of the morning, it usually did the trick.

But the unrelenting growth of an uncomfortable churn in his gut stayed, not budging an inch. It drove him to a mental frenzy knowing he couldn’t control it.

“Ha! Knew you'd be here!” Taiyi’s face popped into Nezha’s view upside down without warning, nearly sending the young man flying backward.

“The hell old man?!”

Nezha almost felt a yelp escape him, but was thankful that it failed to do so. There was no telling what would happen to Taiyi if he caught Nezha ‘acting out of character’ again.

Recalling the last time he wanted to beat Taiyi’s ass in, Nezha’s mind somersaulted before landing back to reality. Right, he promised himself he still had to set Taiyi’s pants on fire.

Unfortunately for Nezha, the slight gleam in his eyes revealed too much.

His master picked up on the red alarms in a second’s notice. Giggling, the deity bounced back a few feet, wagging his finger in Nezha’s face again.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Taiyi said. “I just got these last week on sale, too! You’ll have to wait a bit before you rip ‘em.”

Nezha snorted. “Sure. Be prepared for the double debt. I’ve wanted to go at you for a while now.”

Taiyi widened his eyes with comical intent, putting a hand over his chest in a horrid attempt to look heartbroken.

His student wasn’t impressed.

“You know gods don’t have heart problems right?” Nezha added. Raising a brow, he gave Taiyi a thumbs down.

Grumbling a string of unintelligible words, Taiyi glared. “You know you’re really petty right?”

“Nice to meet you too, kettle,” Nezha retorted, revealing his canines in a sharp smile. A smug look was rewarded to Taiyi, who’s face went through three shades of red.

“Garrrrgh!” Taiyi plopped down next to the youth, out of breath and comebacks. “You win.”

Nezha knew him well enough to know that the deity wasn’t just there to bicker over who had the best debating skills. But he wasn’t interested in beating around the bush this time.

“Seriously, what do you want now.”

Grabbing a pebble from the sand, Nezha made a neat toss to the waters, letting it skid across before sinking to the dark depths.

He waited, all the while digging his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Saw you didn’t come back,” Taiyi said. “Thought you died or something. Viceroy Chen has a very spiky reputation.”

“Piss off!” Nezha growled. He rolled his eyes and trudged further into the water. “He nearly shat himself today.”

Taiyi didn’t relent. “Hey, I was just worried! You never come here for nothing.”

It was going to take a broken tooth to get Nezha to cooperate, and it was obvious it wasn’t going to be today. The deity sighed, flicking his feather duster in exasperation.

Oh, how he wanted to whoop that kid’s ass.

“Just thinking about things,” Nezha replied. Letting out a loud exhale, he continued, “Wondering how that friend would do if he were in my shoes.”

His sudden response had Taiyi’s brows arching in inhumanly shaped degrees. Nezha never revealed his deepest notions without putting up a fight...Maybe ‘never’ was a stretch, but still.

Taiyi looked like he wasn’t sure what to believe. His perturbed pout of the lips reminded Nezha of a stunned fish out of water.

“Dude, you look like you’re gonna kiss somebody,” Nezha joked. But his antics flew over his master’s head.

Clearing his throat, the deity threw him a look, not bothering with an argument of his own. The shift in Taiyi’s gaze turned to one of apprehension as if he was afraid of the conversation’s direction.

“You thinking of that old friend again? The one who played shuttlecock with you?”

“Yeah,” Nezha admitted. “It’s been a year since I’ve seen him.”

He kicked another rock into the sea, whistling as he did so. Despite being a proficient master at masking his discomfort, Nezha had times when even the great bastard child himself couldn’t hide the unease on his face.

His fingers traced the wet sand, mindlessly painting creases onto the smooth canvas, then letting the tides wash it off.

A curse gets lifted, someone gets married, and I get to fight a dragon. What’s not to like?

The nagging pit in his stomach returned, tugging at Nezha’s mind like an unrelenting leach. Embarrassment had his cheeks flaming red, reminding him of his inability to even think straight.

He prayed it wasn’t guilt he felt, given that his motto since day one was to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. The uncomfortable pressure in his chest was a pain in the arse, especially when there’s nothing to feel sorry about. Or at least he hoped.

Nezha was so into his head that he failed to detect the nearing footsteps above him. A pinch of his ears sent him howling, clutching at the pointed tips like they’d been cut off.

An overreaction, for sure, but Nezha wasn’t going to admit that.

“You know you still have me, right?” Taiyi asked. His lack of remorse over Nezha’s ears did him no favors as the latter scooted away in an instant.

“Of course,” Nezha grounded. “A wonderful friend who is so obsessed with me that he stalks me wherever I go.”

He hissed at him to make a point.

Taiyi whimpered. Nezha was positive he was seconds away from a breakdown, with the old man’s eyes enlarging into spheres the size of apples.

The deity stomped his feet. “That’s because I care about you, ya little ingrate! I wiped your mess so many times I lost count. And here I am, thinking that we’re pals.”

Nezha wished his eyes would stay stuck to the back of his head. Thank god Taiyi was sober. He wasn’t down to haul a god with his magnified sensitivity back home at this time of day.

“Quit the guilt-trippin, old geezer.” He handed a spare handkerchief towards his master but made sure he stayed as far away as possible. God snot was not sparkling rainbows as people should know.

Taiyi was back to his old self in a flash, completely disregarding his previous stance. Snatching the cloth away, the deity’s face lit up like a midnight lamp in the dark.

“See! We are friends! I bet I’m the only sappy old man to ever make you offer tissues,” Taiyi insisted.

Nezha glowered. “Shut up!”

His master beamed his vast mouth of teeth at him, inching closer while he was at it. “Ok la!”

He plopped himself right next to Nezha, wiggling his butt into the sand as he tried to find the perfect position. After what felt like hours of him grunting and shuffling for the right comfort, Taiyi found the equilibrium.

Then he fell silent….Very silent.

For once, Nezha thought even the crickets were the loudest things on Earth.

He could feel Taiyi’s eyes boring holes into the side of his face, but he held his ground, refusing to look back. The serene peace was much appreciated; he’d rather not break it.

If only he wasn’t that naive. If only he didn’t speak that fast. Because Taiyi couldn’t make it past five minutes.

“So...When are we gonna leave?” The deity prodded him with his feather duster, oblivious to the twitching muscles on the youth’s face.

Nezha allowed himself to fall backward onto the sand face up, defeated.

He sighed. "Tomorrow."

Then it hit him straight in the chest.

Wait. What?! We-?

“Who’s ‘we’?” Nezha whipped around to Taiyi so hard he heard his neck snap. “Who’s ‘we’?!”

The deity twirled his feather duster, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, y’know. With all the fancy dragons and whatnot, I gotta come with you,” Taiyi said. When he saw the darkening shadows spread across Nezha’s face like wildfire, he backpedaled.

“Plus, it’s more bonding time!” the deity added.

Nezha wanted to hit himself with a brick and pass out. He’d be lucky if he could even find a rock that could accomplish such a thing.

“That’s what I meant,” he retorted. “You’re a literal stalker.”

Kicking a wave of sand at Taiyi, he stood up afterwards to dust himself off. His master paid no attention to the weak assault and continued his barrage of explanations.

“Why do you make it sound like I’m so desperate,” Taiyi wailed. “I’m simply doing my job of protecting my student and making sure he’s improving.”

Nezha snorted. “Yeah, right. More like making sure I’m on a leash.”

Taiyi rolled to a standing position, albeit teetering back and forth. “I’m serious! I gotta keep an eye on you. Besides, I’ve got a bunch of magical treasures that could come in handy!”

The attempt to convince Nezha tumbled into a pool of dung. But the last remark struck a reminder in Nezha. A lightbulb lit in his head as he came to a conclusion. The young man smirked as he stepped closer to the deity, an arm stretched out with an expecting hand.

“Give me the spear and sash and we’re good, old man,” he said.

Taiyi shook his head at the offer. Clutching his belt like his life depended on it, he did his best to scowl at Nezha. “Nuh-uh. That’s not happening.”

The deity’s stubbornness made his student laugh.

“Don’t make me light your ass on fire again,” Nezha warned. He held up a finger, a small flame already dancing around his hand, waiting for its command.

The color drained from Taiyi’s cheeks as he gulped down a big lump.

“Can’t do that. I Locked ‘em in a secret stash for emergency use.”

Nezha huffed. “Then unlock it.”

Crossing his arms, he stared down at the shorter god, not in any mood to drop the case. Under the circumstances, one would think Nezha could tower over a grown man.

But that didn’t move Taiyi one bit. “I said I can’t. It’s got a password.”

By that point, Nezha lost all hope for any sense of normalcy. He needed to smash a rock. Badly.

Slapping a hand to his forehead, the youth threw a burning glare at his master.

“You forgot it didn’t you?”

Taiyi rubbed the back of his head, mumbling something under his breath. “I don’t think so. I swear it’s on a paper somewhere back home.”

Realizing that there wasn’t going to be a way around him, Nezha slumped back. Taiyi was smart if he wanted to be. Whatever it was, he wasn’t getting his precious spear back.

“Fine. You can come,” Nezha said. “Just don’t fuck things up.”

“When did I ever?!” Taiyi complained. He extended the feather duster, trying to whack Nezha. There wasn’t a need to dodge it. The latter snorted, not impressed with the lack of effort.

Nezha sighed. “Nevermind.”

He reclined back onto the sand, hands propping him up. The twisting feeling in his gut waned, but the residual spasms were still there.

Getting married to a viceroy wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a woman. And from the looks of Chen’s estate, he wasn’t lacking in the financial realm.

Nezha smirked. It was probably the only height of his character, if he had any of that in the first place, of course. That princess was a lucky one.

Fuck it. No one ever thought of it. So why should I?

Shoving the last thoughts around Chen to the back of his mind, Nezha exhaled and rolled to his side.

The cool gust of wind caressed his cheeks, whispering their soothing lullaby. Sleep was inviting him to its cave, and after a day like this, Nezha didn’t have the mind to refuse.

He was that close to closing his eyes when a tap on the head brought him to the surface of reality.

“Hey don’t fall asleep here!” Taiyi scolded. “Your mother’s not gonna let me live it down.”

Nezha felt the rush of burning flames course to the tips of his finger. A devilish grin broke into his lips. There wasn’t anyone there to rat him out.

“You asked for it, old man.”

“W-wait stop! Help!” Taiyi shot up into the sky, a blast of light trailing after his rear-end like fireworks.

In Nezha’s defense, the deity created exquisite colors. His only regret was not doing it sooner.

“You filthy lil’ brat!” His master’s voice rained from the top. “I told you this was new!”

But all Taiyi got in return was howling laughter from the young man below. Remorse wasn’t that popular in Nezha’s vocabulary, so an apology wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

A hint of a smile tugged at Nezha’s lips. At least he felt much better now.

Now that he thought about it, gods made really good fireworks.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --

Ao Bing watched as a general scrambled for the tower’s exit.

In just one year of guarding the East Sea Pagoda, he was able to draw a rough idea of all generals within the lands. They were crude, arrogant, boastful, and mannerless.

The one taking his leave had created a new label all for himself; stupid. It wasn’t a word Ao Bing was proud of using. In fact, a tiny part of his pride cracked the moment he realized the man had tried to use a demon-repelling spell against him.

It did the general zero favors when he came bursting in while proclaiming his undying love for the maiden like he had known her for all his life.

He waxed poetic about her smile, which he hadn't seen. He sang praises about her laugh, which he hadn’t heard. He went on for miles describing her hair, which he never touched.

Furthermore, he made Ao Bing’s head throb with pity for whoever may have caught the monstrosity of a speech.

The rescue party ended much worse compared to the others. If he was being honest, Ao Bing wouldn’t even want to consider it an attempt at all.

He didn’t get the chance to practice his Thousand-Year Frozen Palm technique. There was no point. A single punch would’ve sent the general packing.

Humans were a double-edged sword. One moment they were the kindest souls, and the other they were hideous beings with no self-control whatsoever.

Ao Bing was beginning to understand the unified distaste towards them from his clan. Take a man like that general and multiply it by the thousands and humanity would be littered with scum that could still call themselves a ‘man’.

Claws retracting, the dragon prince turned his head towards the room at top of the pagoda.

The princess was staring at him. Her full lips pressed into a grim line, disappointment painted all over her features. A small voice inside Ao Bing’s head hoped she didn’t hear the other colorful things the general said.

If he himself couldn’t hold back the urge to vomit at the words of the man, he didn’t want to know how she would react if she did.

Thank god he never appeared in his human form in front of her, the guilt on his face would’ve eaten him alive.

She let out a visible exhale, before closing the windows with a hard thud. Ao Bing felt the rattle through the core of his bones.

It was surprisingly hard to tell whether or not she despised him. Even with the reality of him being her jailor, she had tried to get him talking multiple times since he started his mission; mostly pointless questions around mundane things.

As per Shen Gong-Bao’s request, Ao Bing never turned up in human form, never spoke back, and never initiated a single interaction. It was a good idea, though. He couldn’t have his emotions blocking him in the long run.

The curse wasn’t for him to break. There was nothing he could do.

But the cold sweat of shame ran down his spine, seeping into the skin of his back. It made him queasy, though he didn’t dare voice it.

Ao Bing sighed, padding across the palace. It was easier to think of his people whenever his mind wandered too far.

Yes, He was doing this for them.

Ao Bing’s thoughts rang a bell, as the familiar footsteps of Shen echoed in the hallways as soon as he finished his musings.

Forming from the shadows like a phantom of the night, the leopard demon morphed into the shape of a human. His yellow eyes glowed beyond the dark like burning amber. The brewing colors hid the storms of thunderous unrest despite his master’s poised exterior.

“I-I-I assume you h-have mastered the T-Thousand-Year F-froz-z-en Palm technique?” Shen inquired. His spindly fingers thumped against one another in frantic dance, betraying his calm veneer.

Ao Bing made no attempt to hide his progress, saluting Shen with a confident bow.

“I have, Master. I’ve perfected bloodstream paralysis of pressure points. It can now be done in one strike.”

Shen Gong-Bao was elated. His eyes narrowed into crescent-shaped moons as he clapped his hands. Even Ao Bing had to admit it was very rare to see his master genuinely smile.

It raised the young dragon’s spirits somewhat.

“E-excellent!” Shen rested a clawed hand on Ao Bing’s shoulder, patting him with good nature. “You’re o-on the right t-track-k! You’ll be able t-t-to overpower the d-demon orb s-soon enough!”

The mention of the demon pill sent Ao Bing’s horns vibrating with nervous anticipation. There was no room for him to mess up.

All he had to do was track down the reincarnation of the demon orb, hold him off long enough in front of thousands of humans to be struck by lightning, and then win the Jade Emperor’s favor.

His father would be freed, and it would be worth all the blood he shed along the past three years.

Shen broke into his thoughts once more, rattling his trail of plans out loud.

“Who knew th-that this girl’s c-curse would serve as the best t-tr-training g-ground for you. I-I’d have to thank w-w-whatever s-stupid god that did it.”

Ao Bing forced a smile to the surface. He wasn’t too keen on getting into the details of the curse. The less he knew the better.

But his body failed to find a muscle to refuse the beaming leopard demon in front of him. He hated to disappoint, and over nothing at that.

Glancing up at his master with stifled unease, Ao Bing waited for the next command.

“Y-your father would be p-pr-proud of you,” Shen continued. “You’ve a-accomplished more th-things than any members of y-your clan could dream of. You j-ju-just have to defeat the demon orb now. I-I have faith in your s-success.”

A calculating gleam flashed across Shen’s eyes, silencing the doubts in Ao Bing’s mind. The young dragon felt a cold wave of resolution wash over his back.

His master was right; winning was the only choice. Ao Bing couldn’t have anything in his way.

Life was never known for its fairness in all the years he’d been alive. What did he expect?

The dragon prince felt the corners of his lips tug downward. He should be grateful for how the events turned out, worse things could’ve happened.

It was as good as it was going to get for everyone.

#nezha #nezha 2019 #fanfiction #ne zha: birth of the demon child #chinese #chinese mythology #original character #adventure #humor #哪吒之魔童降世 #哪吒 #shrek #parody #shrek is love

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 5

“Peter, wake up. Peter, please, come on. I know you’re breathing, you have a pulse, fucking wake up, Pete. Please.”

Peter cracks an eye open and sees Makado, forehead pressed against his shoulder, her own shaking with exhaustion and frustration and fear. He wants to reach down and touch her and show her that he’s awake, that he’s okay, but his arm doesn’t seem to want to cooperate with what he wants it to do; he can lift it but it feels like he’s a million miles from his body and whispering in the ear of whoever is really lifting his arm, but they can’t understand him and they aren’t very good at working the arm to begin with. He blinks glassily and shifts his torso a little and Makado looks up and sees that he’s awake and throws her arms around him.

“Goddam it,” she mutters. She smells like peaches. Peter tells her this and she looks at him with a funny expression on her face, like she’s trying very hard not to smile and failing at it. “You really cracked your head, didn’t you?” she says. Peter tries to sit up but she puts a hand on his chest and pushes him back down gently. He raises his arm again and notices that a little bit more of his coordination has returned; he puts his hand on her shoulder and she reaches up and squeezes it.

“Are the kids okay?” he asks, and she nods.

“Yeah, they’re fine. A little banged up but we all are. They’re okay.”

Peter looks over her shoulder and sees the three of them, even Eileen, looking at him with wide, frightened eyes. Fitzroy has a cut on his forehead that looks bad, but it’s a head wound, so it probably looks worse than it actually is, and Eileen is still clutching her wrist. His eyes flick up to Makado. “Have you looked at Eileen’s wrist?” he asks. “She’s been holding it like that since the first wave of convulsions.”

“Yeah,” Makado nods. “It’s sprained, I took a look at it. Not broken, thankfully.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” she admits. “I’m not a doctor. But she wouldn’t be able to move it as much as she can if it were broken.”

“Good,” Peter says, making to get up, but Makado pushes him down again.

“Not so fast,” she says, unclipping her flashlight from her belt. “Stare straight ahead,” she instructs him, and when he squints against the light she rolls her eyes at him. “Don’t squint.”

Peter tries not to but even on the lowest setting the flashlight is very bright. After what feels like eternity Makado turns it off and shrugs. “You’ve got a concussion,” she says, “but probably not a very bad one.”

“Are you sure?” Peter frowns. “I feel like shit.”

“Yeah, you look like it, too,” Makado grins. “You were only out for a minute or two, though.”

“The choke response was over that quickly?” he asks, sitting up. His head throbs for a moment and he puts his hand to it, but the feeling passes.

“No,” Makado shakes her head. “Put your hand on the floor.”

Peter does and then he feels it, a slow rattling rumble from somewhere deep, deep in the Pit, a vibration that passes up his bones and makes his teeth sing. He jerks his hand back like it was scorched. “What the hell?”

“I know.”

“What is going on?”

“No clue,” Makado shakes her head. “I haven’t been able to get anybody on the radio, and the lift stopped halfway down. I think a contraction crushed part of the elevator shaft inwards so it can’t make it all the way.”

“Shit,” Peter mutters. “So we’re trapped down here?”

He glances at the three kids on the other side of the elevator enclosure, but they aren’t paying attention; Fitzroy and Eileen are huddled together, looking exhausted, and Tyler is laid out flat on the floor, shuddering along with the pit.

“I don’t know,” Makado tells him. “The elevator is fucked so that’s not a viable way up but there are others. I know there’s a ladder somewhere that leads up to the bronchial area in the layer above this but I don’t know where it is. Do you?”

Peter shakes his head. “No,” he says after a moment. “I’m down here a lot but I don’t think I’ve ever used that ladder. We always would just take the lift, like we’re –“

“- like we’re supposed to,” Makado groans. “And you don’t have the map downloaded?”

“No,” Peter tells her. “I still have a map of the eastern face in here,” he says, tapping the computer box built into his suit’s chestplate. Makado curses.

“Mine just has a map of the LVC area, I’ve been doing tour groups for the last three days.”

“You? Doing tour groups?”

“Don’t even start,” she groans. “Ryan and Fatoumatta both have been out, Ryan’s dad died and I don’t even know what Fati’s problem was, we literally didn’t have anybody else to cover.”

There’s another grumbling moan from somewhere deep below them. Peter watches Tyler shudder.

“Pit doesn’t sound very happy,” Peter mutters.

“I’ve never heard carnal moans like those,” Makado agrees.

“I know a choke response can be bad but even if the pumps failed in the Sand Gullet it shouldn’t have been this bad.”

“No. I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

“Do you have a wireless link with the LVC? I don’t but I don’t know if your suit…”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I thought my suit was damaged but I didn’t worry about it until the elevator got fucked.”

Peter blows his breath out. “We’re screwed, then.”

“Not so loud. We aren’t screwed, there has to be a way up to the LVC, you know how this place is, there’s always a damn ladder or access chute or elevator somewhere, you just never know where they are.”

“But if we can’t get any new maps –“

“Okay, here’s something, though – if we get to a ranger station or a call box we can jack in and try and get a direct line to the LVC that way. I think the wireless issue is the same as the radio issue, I think it’s just that a repeater somewhere got crushed. I don’t know if you know but they aren’t exposed, they’re literally just buried in flesh in places because they really didn’t want anybody screwing with them. It’s just that convulsions this strong are so rare this deep that I guess they figured it was an acceptable risk.”

“So if they buried it in muscle –“

“- which is stupid, I know, even if convulsions are rare -”

“Okay. Well, we can’t get to the ranger station in that digestive bulb. There’s a call box in the Campground –“

“Not any more,” Makado shakes her head. “I saw it when we went in there, it’s fucked.”

“Then the closest one is going to be down in the lower organ trails. There’s a call box every half mile or so.”

“Christ,” Makado groans. “I really, really hoped you wouldn’t say that.”

“It’ll be fine,” he assures her.

“Those macrobacteria had to get in somehow. Where else would it have been but the –“

“You don’t know,” he says. “It could have been literally anywhere with the level of shit we’ve been dealing with for the last half hour or so. Ouch.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he says, putting a hand to his forehead. “I think I’m just catching up now, I have a killer headache all of a sudden.”

“I have a hypo if you –“

“I have some too, it’s okay. We all need to be sharp.”

“Are we trapped down here?” Fitzroy calls, and Makado turns and looks at him.

“No,” she says finally. Peter can see her struggling to think of what to say that won’t make the three teenagers panic. Tyler’s eyes are very wide, or at least they seem so in the red emergency lighting. “We’re just trying to figure out our next plan of action.”

“Are we gonna die?” Eileen asks, so quietly Peter can barely hear her.

“Not today,” Makado says. “Me and Ranger Pete here are going to get you guys out of here.”

“Okay,” Eileen says. There is not a lot of confidence in her voice. At least, Peter reflects, she’s defeated instead of panicked. Then he does a mental double-take and considers what a ridiculous sentiment that is. If she –

“Did you hear me?” Makado asks, frowning. Peter blinks.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she says, leaning closer. “You’re –“

“No, it’s nothing, I just zoned out for a second. I was thinking about how the hell we’re going to get these kids out of here.”

“Yeah, you and me both. At least it seems fairly safe in this enclosure.”

“Yeah. Have you looked outside lately?”

“No,” Makado says, “but it should be okay, I haven’t heard any more stents fail.”

“I was thinking more about wildlife.”

Before Makado can answer the floor bucks violently and Eileen and Fitzroy both yelp, but the tremor subsides slowly and gracefully, winding down with a jolting series of shudders that Peter can tell from Makado’s face she’s never felt anything like before; neither has he.

The elevator enclosure is fairly roomy, big enough for maybe ten or twelve people to wait in relative comfort. The walls are drab reinforced steel, with a few posters taped up about safety requirements and guidelines and a big recruiting poster encouraging people to apply for venterial engineer positions. This was never an elevator intended for guests to use – in fact, most of the time people wouldn’t have gotten to the Lower Gastro Zone through an elevator at all. Peter’s lead many, many tours down the mile-and-a-half walking path that meanders in a spiraling course down the Pit’s eastern side and finally lets out at a large, reinforced bulb that once was a gastrointestinal organ but, like the Campground, had been drained and prettied up and turned into a staging area both for returns to the Lower Visitor Center and for guests making excursions deeper into the Pit. Peter and the other rangers stationed there joked about it being the lower Lower Visitor Center, considering the amount of traffic they usually got, but all jokes aside, Peter had loved his assignment. Generally speaking the only guests they had passing through and downwards were the serious ones, the ones who’d been on a solo or small-group excursion before and knew what to expect and as such required only refills of water, or propane for their tents’ support packs. It had been him, Makado, Carl, and a few others who tended to rotate out as needed, but then Makado caught that promotion a week ago…

At the time Peter had tried very hard not to feel sad, knowing that she’d definitely deserved it, but he couldn’t help selfishly wishing that someone else had gotten promoted instead so that he could continue hanging out with her and Carl and all the others. The past week had been so strange without her flashing eyes and no-nonsense demeanor and quick wit when they’d teased her. He’d known Carl had felt it too, even if they’d never directly spoken about it.

“Why don’t I go down to the Lower Organ Trail,” Peter says, interrupting Makado’s perusal of the hopelessly limited general map stored in her suit computer, “jack in and download a map real quick, and then come right back up here so we can plan?”

“Peter, I really don’t want us to split up. And you’ve got that head injury –“

“Mak, listen, think about it,” he says, drawing in closer to her. She still smells like peaches, he notices. “You want to take the kids down there? This is probably the safest place for them. You’ve got a door you can bar with some of those chairs, and these walls are solid,” he says, touching them. “Got through all those convulsions without any buckling. Yeah, the elevator’s fucked, but…”

“But what if,” she says, voice a low growl, “what if you go down there and get killed by something? Carl bit it from a pack of macros, Pete. Just fucking macros. You know how many of them are down there, probably?”

“We don’t know that they got in from the organ trails,” he says. “There are a dozen other places that they could have came in after convulsions like that.”

“Don’t give me that bull,” Makado says. “You know it was the organ trails. Where else would it have been? That copepod we saw earlier? That came in from the trails. It didn’t come in from a digestive bulb, its carapace can’t handle the acid.”

“It could have come down from upwards, from bronchial.”

“If it was in bronchial it would have been literally the only copepod there. There’s nothing for them to eat in bronchial.”

“You’re making assumptions.”

“What is it going to eat in bronchial?” she asks. “Tell me.”

“Giant mites.”

“A copepod is a giant mite.”

“That isn’t entirely true and you know it,” Peter says. “Look, we’re wasting time.” He pauses there until Makado looks at him. “One of us has to go. You’ve got rank. Send me. Make the call.”

“We don’t have to. We can just go down tunnels until we find a way up.”

“You know that’s a bad idea as well as I do.”

“I’ll go, then.”

“Mak, no.”

“Look,” she says, eyes flashing, “you can put aside whatever notions of chivalry you might be having. I can take care of myself. It’ll –“

“It isn’t about chivalry. You are the ranking ranger of the two of us.” Makado looks like she wants to say something, but Peter gives her a look and she swallows it. “I’m more expendable than you are. You always knew it would come to this. I did too. It’ll be fine; I can just run down, plug in a line, download an automap of the area, and we’ll head out and be back to the LVC in time for a late dinner.”

Makado takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. When she opens them again she nods. “Be careful,” she tells Peter, and Peter grins at her.

“It’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Just down there and back. What’s the worst that could happen?”

* * *

“Fuck,” Peter mutters to himself, peering around the corner again. The timer he’d set on the suit computer ticked down off of five minutes a minute ago and the triocanth is still there in the middle of the hallway, its pair of long, stinger-lined tentacles still wrapped around the tubelike macrobacterium that it caught. It’s chewed open a hole in the bacterium’s thin skin and is busily slurping out the bacterium’s innards, leaving a crusty light-orange scum on the metal walkway beneath it. Peter shakes his head.

“This fucker is still here, Mak,” he says into the radio, as quietly as he can. He hears Makado sigh on the other end of the radio, her exhale blending with the static.

“Just be patient,” she tells him again. “It’ll wander off when it’s done.”

“Or it’ll dig a fucking hole into the Pit wall and hide there waiting for me to walk past and sting me and then eat me, how about that?”

“Go around it.”

“This is a one-way trail, there’s no around it. Unless you want me to double back for fifteen minutes and hope that the next call box is intact.”

“We have time. There’s no rush.”

“You have time,” he corrects her. “Meanwhile, the one who’s actually out here risking his ass doesn’t know if something is sneaking up on him right this very moment…”

He can hear Makado smiling. “Have you tried looking around?” she suggests, and Peter rolls his eyes.

“I can see why you made head ranger,” he cracks, and Makado lets out a mock gasp.

“How dare you, sir.”

“I dare,” he mutters, taking Makado’s advice and looking around, checking the ceiling as well as the fleshy, writhing floor of the trail. He peeks around the corner again and sees the triocanth, its long wriggling tail twitching with delight. It looks to be about halfway done with the macrobacterium now. It flicks one of its powerful tentacles and sends a fluttering spray of bacterium skin flying.

“You just looked around, didn’t you?” Makado asks.

“Maybe.”

“I knew it!” she crows. “Hey, kids! Come here and let me tell you how predictable Peter’s getting! Why don’t –“

“Quiet,” Peter says, and Makado turns off like a switch. He hears her telling one of the teens that she was just kidding and to go and sit back down but he doesn’t pay any attention.

The triocanth is gone. The husk of the macrobacterium is still rocking gently on the floor, its orangey innards oozing out of it like a spilled can of soda, bubbling lightly as it reacts with and oxidizes the metal flooring of the trail. He checks the walls and the ceiling but can’t find the tell-tale breathing hole that it would have made if it had burrowed into the Pit’s flesh; it made no noise, but triocanths usually don’t. “What’s going on?” Makado asks.

“The triocanth is gone.”

“Alright, so the way’s clear?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“It took off in a hurry. Like it was scared. It didn’t even finish the bacterium it was eating.”

“Maybe it got full.”

“You know what triocanths are like as well as I do.”

“Yeah,” Makado agrees after a moment. “Greedy bastards.”

“And not cowardly,” Peter continues.

“Do you think it noticed you?”

“Not likely,” he says, scanning the ceiling again.

“What are triocanths scared of?” she muses to herself.

“A shamble?” Peter suggests. Makado clicks her teeth.

“Same size range but shambles are pussies. I’ve seen a triocanth take on a shamble twice its weight before.”

“Alright, so not a shamble. What about a greater bristleworm?”

“You’d have heard it. You know how they make that crunchy sound when they’re slithering around on land?”

“Good point,” he nods. “What about a –“ Peter starts, then stops.

“Peter? What is it?”

“Off mic,” he murmurs, and then Peter reaches up, extremely slowly, and takes the earpiece from his ear. He can hear nothing except for the various drips and drops and fleshy stretching noises the Pit makes as part of its ordinary daily life. He can feel the rumble of a convulsion still wracking the Pit somewhere deeper down in its anatomy through the soles of his ranger suit, but the floor he’s standing on hasn’t bucked or pitched enough to throw him off in at least ten minutes now. The damage has been done; if a triocanth can get into the organ trail there’s clearly a torn section of fence or two somewhere.

But a triocanth is relatively innocuous; while it may have a vicious, paralyzing sting and a bad habit of burrowing into the fleshy walls of the pit to spring out and ambush anything that passes by, if he shot it with his service pistol it would die. It would take only a single bullet.

Peter has peeked around the corner again, trying to spot the triocanth. Instead, he sees an arm, reaching out from a narrow fold in the flesh of the Pit, there on the wall, a large, vertical slit leaking a little blood and pus from its bottommost corner.

The arm is long and thin and fragile-looking; it has too many bends in it, the forearm receding back to an elbow and then folding in on itself to another machine-like reticulated elbow. Its flesh is pale and slightly translucent; he can see a long thin bead of bone struck through with veins that pulse with blue, unhealthy-looking blood. The arm is huge, far larger than a human’s ought to be, though it still terminates in a five-fingered hand, proportioned exactly as a human’s, but large enough to palm Peter’s entire head with room left over.

The hand reaches out with exceeding delicacy and picks up the discarded skin of the macrobacterium and then retracts back into the slit, slopping a little of the macro’s orange innards over the wall of the Pit. There’s a coarse sliding sound that gradually recedes, and then nothing.

Peter waits, scarcely daring to breathe, for about three minutes. Then he picks the earpiece up and digs it back into his ear.

“-ammit, Pete,” Makado is whispering, sounding as if she’s on the brink of tears, “this is all my fault, fuck, come on, just say something –“

“Mak,” he murmurs, feeling a stab of guilt pierce through him; she must not have heard when he said he was leaving the radio. “I’m here.”

“Christ, Pete, you scared me,” she tells him, sounding like a week’s worth of tension has just left her body. “I thought we got cut off cause I didn’t hear anything but then I started to get worried –“

“Mak, listen to me.”

“What? What is it?”

“There’s a copepod down here.”

Makado is silent for a moment. “You mean a lesser one, right?” she says hopefully.

“No. An abyssal copepod. A big one.”

“Are you sure?”

“I saw its arm, Mak.”

“You sure it wasn’t just a really pale person?”

“Yeah, it was a really pale ogre-sized person with two elbows on one arm. Come on. Time to face the music.”

“What music?” she growls. “That we’re all going to get fucking eaten by a copepod? Tell me something better, Pete. Have you downloaded that automap yet?”

“Not yet. I’m proceeding forward now that the coast is clear,” he tells her, moving out around the corner. The metal walkway angles downwards and deposits him on the fleshy floor of the trail, and he feels the telltale grab of his cleats digging in with each step he takes.

“Maybe you should come back,” Mak suggests. “We can fall out to a different ranger station, the general map is saying that there’s one about a mile and a half to the east –“

“I remember hearing at least three stents fail down that corridor,” he tells her, edging past the slit in the wall quickly. It’s almost unnoticeable now that there’s nothing inside it to bulge the opening outwards; if he hadn’t seen the arm, he wouldn’t have known it were there. “You really want to take that risk?”

“No,” Makado says after a moment. “But I don’t want you to die.”

“That makes two of us,” he says. “I can see the call box.”

“How far?”

“Quarter of a mile. I’m in the home stretch. Radio silence now so I can listen.”

“Understood,” Makado says. She’s silent for a moment, then Peter hears her breathe. “You come back to me, alright?”

“Promise.”

“Break it and I’ll kill you myself.”

“Okay, I get it. Now shut up.”

Makado shuts up, and then the broadcast clicks off entirely. Peter is alone.

It’s dark down there in the organ trail, and the jerky bob of Peter’s flashlight, slotted into the tab on the side of his helmet, is completely inadequate to illuminate the vast cavernous space. The organ trails, at least at this end, are some of the largest navigable spaces inside the Pit that aren’t sheer drops or extremely difficult terrain. The floor is smooth, struck through with veins and vesicles and callouses from decades of foot traffic.

While the organ trail’s surfaces appear open and occasionally wildlife does make its way through, all of the ways upwards, at least to this opening mouth of the trail, should have been blocked. The only way for something as large as an abyssal copepod to get there would have been for it to clamber out onto the trail and pull itself up through miles of open areas. But Peter knows that abyssal copepods practically never expose themselves like that; it’s only if they’re directly pursuing prey organisms that they will flop outwards of the tight-fitting vents and veins and arteries that are ordinarily their homes, for although a copepod is graceful and swift in the crushing grasp of a tube like that, its organically lubricated carapace shooting through at speeds of up to twenty miles an hour on a straightaway, out in the open it has to rely on the wriggling of its mammoth body and the brutal pulling strength of its forelimbs to get around.

So, essentially – the armor and fences and sonic discouragement devices and electrical traps, the spike plates and scent lures and redundant obfuscatory canals, the thin web of interlinked and interdependent methods to distract, redirect, and otherwise prevent wildlife from making it to the populated areas of the Pit, has failed, at least somewhere. Probably a plate cap got jostled loose by the series of rolling convulsions and constrictions wracking the Pit, perhaps a speaker got crushed or a scent lure sealed off. The web is redundant but not exceedingly so.

Peter feels his paranoia growing as he makes his way towards the slowly pulsing blue light of the call box. This box in particular looks alright; the first two he passed we bent out of shape and clearly inoperable, crushed by tight squeezes of tunnel, but this section of the trail is so large that even if the muscles bunched around it were to contract, it wouldn’t touch him.

Peter gets to the call box. There’s a small pack of macrobacteria rolling past in a divot of the trail floor, perhaps a hundred feet away, but they’d have to spike their way up a sheer incline to get to him, so he’s not concerned. He notices with surprise that the soft grinding noise they make is oddly comforting.

The call box is splattered with something but it’s dried by now. He smacks the side of it lightly and the dried crust of it breaks off in a shower of tiny flakes. “Mak,” he says. “I’m at the box.”

“Great,” she says. He can hear her stretching as she sits up. “There should be a jack on the side, unroll your aux cable and plug it in.”

“Do I have the right permissions for this?” he asks.

“Maybe. We’ll find out.”

Peter is halfway through reeling out the cable before he notices a blinking line on the box’s display. He leans in and squints at it. “Hey, Mak.”

“Yeah?”

“This box is saying it still has a telephone line to the LVC.”

“Really?”

“The status says ‘fine.’”

“Try calling them, then.”

Peter pulls the glove off his right hand and punches the button. The angled infinity-sign of the dialing symbol comes up and bobs back and forth. Peter stares at it as the seconds stretch onwards and onwards. He shakes his head finally. “It must be busted,” he says. “No response.”

“Hmm,” Makado grunts. “That or the LVC is fucked.”

“Come on, get real,” he tells her. “Let’s see if we still have data. I’m jacked in.”

“Okay. Slide your card.”

Peter reaches down into the acidproof pocket on his belly and takes out his ranger card and slides it. The box whirs to itself for a moment before the access menu comes up. “Do I want mainframe access?” he asks.

“No, hit 8 to scroll, it should be on the third page. Haven’t you done this before?”

“Nope,” he says, punching the 8 button a couple times. “I’ve always gotten my maps wirelessly. I think I was trained on this at some point when they put these new boxes in but all I remember is them saying that maps needed supervisor clearance. Why is that, anyway?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s because the automap system does a ping every time someone requests it. Wear and tear and all that.”

“Well, that’s a damn inconvenience right now. The option is locked.”

“Fuck,” Makado says. “Okay, hit enter on it anyway.”

“It’s asking for a password.”

“Try putting yours in.”

Peter punches it in but the box beeps at him. “Access denied,” he reads off.

“Try putting mine in. It’s…”

Peter cocks his head. “I think we got cut off, say again.”

“No,” Makado says after a moment. “It’s just, you know, don’t laugh at me, alright?”

“Will you tell me the damn password?”

“Capital B bigmakpaddywack2258 exclamation point dollar sign.”

“Are you serious?”

“Type the damn password,” she tells Peter.

Peter bites his lip to hold back his laughter and types it in. His smile gradually fades. “Are you sure that’s your password?”

“Yes I’m fucking sure. Did you type it right? ‘Mak’ without a c?”

“Yes, Makado, I’m aware of how to spell your name. I typed it right.”

Somewhere in the trail there’s a sliding sound. Peter freezes. “You know what it must be,” Makado says thoughtfully, “they must not have updated my supervisor status yet. I knew that –“

“Shut up for a second.”

Makado gasps in mock affront. “Could you be any more rude?”

“Mak!” he hisses. “Not now!”

She lapses into an embarrassed silence. Peter drops into a low crouch, forcing himself to move slowly, and then turns, scanning the trail behind him. He reaches up after a moment and turns his flashlight off.

Peter can see nothing on the trail; the macrobacteria are still rolling past below him – the colony must be at least a hundred individuals, if not more. Peter slowly lets a breath out.

“What’s happening?” Makado whispers.

“Thought I heard something.”

“Please do not get paranoid on me out there.”

Peter peers up at the ceiling but it’s shrouded in gloom; if anything is up there he can’t see it. On the other hand, unless there’s an opening, the giant copepod he saw won’t be there – it would be too heavy to cling to the ceiling. “It was nothing,” he says finally.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But we need this map.”

“How the hell are we going to get it, though? If my password isn’t working –“

“Let me think.”

Peter tabs out of the menu and back to the main screen. The infinity symbol of the call he made to the Lower Visitor Center earlier is still bobbing back and forth, caught in limbo. He shakes his head. “Goddam it,” he mutters. He hears Makado breathing but she stays silent.

Peter thinks for a moment, then hits the control, shift, and caret keys all at once. The screen clears and then a blinking cursor appears, waiting for input. “Did anybody ever tell you the reset codes they use in Command?”

“No. I don’t even know how to get to the screen to put them in.”

“I do,” Peter says. “Control-shift-caret. But I don’t know the codes.”

“I think ‘idkfa’ might be one of them.”

“Really?”

“I overheard a conversation Sol was having with somebody one time, and he mentioned that, but I didn’t really understand and I don’t know the context.”

Peter types it in and punches the enter key. “’idkfa’ is not a valid command.”

“Iddqd?”

“If these are really the codes to anything somebody in IT ought to get fired,” he grumbles, but he types it in anyway. “Nope,” he says.

“I don’t know any others.”

Peter can feel the prickly knot of worry that’s been clenching tighter and tighter somewhere deep in his gut double in size. “Fuck,” he whispers. “I can’t get the maps, Mak, it won’t let me get the maps.”

“Peter, just wait, maybe –“

“Goddam it!”

Peter reaches out, and as hard as he dares, slaps the side of the call box. It makes a dull noise but a soft one, and even as his cheeks color and he looks around nervously at the rest of the trail, wondering if anything heard him, the box makes a chittering sound to itself somewhere deep in its innards and then the loud, tacky, 90s-esque tone of a call connecting to the LVC plays.

“Holy shit,” Peter says.

“Yo, who the fuck – who is down on the organ trail right now?” comes the voice from the box.

“Solomon? Is that you?” Peter asks, looking around nervously. He turns down the volume on the box as much as he can but the voice is still boomingly loud, echoing off the ribbed sides of the trail. It must seem much louder than it really is, Peter reasons, but the volume of it is still worrying.

“Peter? What the fuck are you doing down there, man?”

“Listen, Sol, can you get me an automap of this area? I’m jacked in but I don’t have the permissions.”

“Well,” he says, his voice as heavy and slow as it always is. “I can try, but things are pretty fucked around here.”

“Yeah, what the hell is going on?”

“Well, the LVC slipped down the gullet,” Sol starts, and Peter blinks.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “can you repeat that?”

“Give me one sec, Pete. I’m pinging the automap in that area right now, if it’s working you’ll get a download on your suit in a minute or so.”

“Great, thanks Sol. What did you say about the LVC, though?”

“The LVC slipped down the gullet,” Solomon says. “It’s at about a 45 or 60 degree angle right now.”

“Holy fuck,” Peter breathes.

“Yep,” Solomon says. “Check your maps, you should have it now.”

“You’re taking this pretty well,” Peter says.

“Knew this shit would happen eventually.”

“Is it still slipping?”

“Nah, it’s settled now. There’s some buckling down at the other end but Control is okay for the moment. Do you have that map yet?”

“Let me check,” Peter says, tapping on his wrist screen.

The automap system used in the depths of the Pit is a miracle of mechanical and computer engineering and cost Anodyne nearly a billion dollars to develop. Due to the Pit’s mutable and shifting terrain, as well as being a uniquely three-dimensional space, conventional maps became out of date practically as soon as they were drafted, or if they didn’t, they were so hopelessly general that any sort of close-in work became impossible and instead would rely on work-arounds that rangers and mining crews had to develop on the fly, which usually were inexact, imprecise, and unreplicable in the future.

The automap system, on the other hand, uses a system similar to sonar to send an ultrasonic ping through the tunnels of the Pit and then creates a three-dimensional map that can be downloaded to a ranger’s suit and manipulated using a wrist pad and linked to the ranger’s position via a positioning marker in his suit, allowing him to have an instant and accurate map of the surrounding area. The only downside is that the file size for the map itself is so large that, given the limited amount of space for an on-board computer inside a ranger suit, only one map can be held in memory at a time.

Peter watches the progress bar fill up and then taps on the file for the newly downloaded map. A few areas are hazy, indicating one of the ultrasonic projectors might have been inactive or malfunctioning, but the majority of the map is clear. After a moment the suit triangulates his location and he appears as a small green blip, which stays in place even as he rotates the map up and down, back and forth. He blows his breath out. “Got it,” he tells Solomon. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” Solomon says. “Gotta go. Lots of bullshit up here.”

“Are you okay?” Peter asks, but the call has already disconnected, and he is alone again amid the cavernous trail. “Mak, you hear any of that?”

“Got all of it, Pete.”

“Even the part about the LVC?”

“Yes,” she says. Her voice is tight with worry. “Get back here asap, we need to plan.”

“Can you connect to my suit? I’ll send you the map file.”

“I can’t get a link, already tried. When we…”

Makado is saying something else, but Peter allows her voice to fade into the background.

There’s a red blip on the map, there in the cavern with him. He looks up, looks around cautiously, but he doesn’t see anything; red would mean a moving object of fairly significant mass, but the map updates so slowly that it’s nowhere near to being a motion detector or anything. Plus, when the sensors spin down in a couple of minutes the updates will stop.

Peter takes two fingers, zooms in on the blip, then zooms back out. If this is accurate, it should be…

There’s a shriek of grinding metal behind him, and he whips around. He sees, outlined starkly by his flashlight, a long, gargantuan arm, reaching up from the cliff below, its translucent, five-fingered hand digging into the metal of the call box leaving dents easily six or seven inches deep. With a faint hissing noise the arm retracts and hauls the bulk of the copepod over the cliff, its frilly sensory antennae flicking with wild abandon. He can see the pinprick of his flashlight reflected in its limpid black eyes and takes a halting step backwards. His cleats, trying to dig in at the wrong angle, trip him and he falls, putting an arm out to catch himself. The copepod cocks its head at him, and then it reaches out, its hand seemingly large enough to blot out the rest of existence, and Peter doesn’t have enough breath to scream.

Continue with Part 6

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#mystery flesh pit #novel #fiction #underground #caving

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Think Again (When You Stop Freaking Out) - Pt.4

Following the breadcrumbs

Pairing: None Word count: 1630

Warnings: language, hella lot confusion, attemp at science talk… irony and sass? ;)

Summary: Matt and Steve meet. Foggy fanboys and wants to bang his head against the wall in embarrassment. Punches are thrown. For once, someone is more of a drama queen than Tony.

In other words; not so typical day at the Tower.

Story Masterlist

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When the two men entered the lab, it was one of the most surreal moments Matt had lived through. Which was saying a lot, considering he was wearing someone else’s meat-suit momentarily.

Matt’s attention was on both of them, his eyes flickering in between, unsure whom he should be observing first. The slightly chubby man in a beige suit and with long-ish hair must have been Foggy – Matt could immediately tell that, even when he was accustomed to see him in a completely different way.

Seeing the other man though… that was something else. If there wasn’t for the glasses and cane, he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself. Not thirty-year-old himself anyway. His hair had a red reflexion under the lab lights, only emphasized by the red shade of his lenses, dark stubble covering his jaw. He knew he was athletic, but seeing himself in the shirt was just different. Matt stared wordlessly, tilting his head as he was trying to connect the two pictures of himself in his mind, while Matt Murdock’s hand went to scratch the back of his neck.

“Alright, now I believe you. Cap, you wouldn’t allow yourself stare like that, plus that tick is definitely yours. Don’t you think, Banner?”

Matt’s gaze shifted back to Foggy, seeing his awe-struck expression – it was an incredible picture, seeing his friend, and he almost felt tears in his eyes. He smiled at his friend.

“Hey, Foggy.”

Foggy’s eyes went wide. “Oh god, Captain America knows my name! Wait, how do you know my name?!”

“We're best friends, Fog,” Matt chuckled, making his way to him slowly. “Or I like to think so.”

At that, captain’s lips – well, Matt’s body’s lips anyway – curled up in a smile, the movement fascinating Matt. “Would you happen to call yourself a fruit? Hey, Tony. Bruce.”

Matt snickered, ignoring the puzzled looks of everyone else, the shock all over Tony’s and Bruce’s faces. “Oh, so he’s admitting that avocado is a fruit now?”

“Oh my god! Holy shit! You're— you're really-- and you're-“

“Yeah.”

“And you’re-“ Foggy turned to Captain America’s wearing Matt’s body with an expression of pure horror and the man just smiled.

“Yeah.”

“How?! Oh shit, this is awkward. I fan-boyed!”

Matt burst out laughing, shutting up when seeing Foggy’s wounded glare.

Rogers’ hand went approximately to Foggy’s arm. “It was nice, actually. I can give you an autograph.”

“Someone kill me know.”

“Nah, you seem like a funny guy. Though I’m not sure I can forgive you for fan-boying over Capsicle and not me,” Tony exclaimed, walking to their little group. “Nelson, I presume?”

“Holy crap, Tony Stark knows my name too!”

A satisfied smirk appeared on Tony’s face, when he was addressed with proper amount of amazement.

“Yes, and that’s Doctor Banner right there. Thanks for bringing him here, Foggy. Uhm… Captain Rogers?” Matt shuffled towards the man occupying his body and the man in question turned to him fully. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The captain extended his hand to shake and Matt accepted it with a smile, only to see him grimace.

“You’re crushing my hand. I mean, your hand. My hand is crushing your hand. Basically.”

Matt quickly let go, realizing that when he had been aiming for a firm grip, he might have failed and had gone with a bone-crushing squeeze.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay and it’s nice to meet you. Believe me, I know the struggle. Speaking of which, how on Earth do you live with all the… things?” the supersoldier asked rather delicately and Matt’s heart positively stopped.

Shit. Fuck. That was a part he hadn’t considered. Steve Rogers wasn’t only stuck with blind. He was also stuck with supersenses. Fucking shit.

He cleared his throat, shrugging, deciding to ignore the matter for the time being.

“This is insane. Mr. Stark, Doctor Banner… do you have any idea how to fix this?” Foggy interjected, sounding uneasy and Matt assumed he must have realized a whole new set of problems that the body-exchange could bring.

God, Matt hoped Foggy hadn’t said anything incriminating so far. Judging by his pale face, it might be a fool’s hope.

“Well. It would be helpful to know how this happened in the first place.”

Matt had to admit that Bruce wasn’t wrong.

Which didn’t mean Matt was happy to share any activity that might have led to this.

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“So… you touched some… alien artefact and the next thing you know, you wake up in Matt’s body? Okay, ouch, that was not the best choice of words,” Mr. Nelson – Foggy, as he insisted – summed up and Steve just nodded, while the sudden swish of air told him Tony gestured wildly, whispering to Bruce ‘I told you it sounds weird’.

“Mostly. It didn’t take effect immediately. We returned to the Tower, I went to bed. Then I woke up somewhere else.”

“Matt? What about you?”

Steve heard the other man gulp, a shuffling of skin against skin as if he rubbed his palms or something. His strong heartbeat – well, Steve’s really – sped up.

“I went to bed and woke up in a different one,” the man said, sounding honest. Then again, it might have been force of a habit; Steve usually was honest and Matt was speaking in his voice, so…

“Okay, hotshot. Anything strange happening that day? Touched something you shouldn’t have?... That sounded weird too,” Tony noted then and Steve thought he might have made a disgusted face.

Matt’s heartbeat was going crazy now. “Not that I know of.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, sensing there was something he wasn’t telling them. And if there was something he wasn’t telling them willingly-

“Well, why don’t you just try to touch the artefact again? That could work, right?” Foggy offered cheerily, too quickly.

All alarm bells were set off in Steve’s head. Why was Foggy trying to shift their attention to something else? Was he protecting a secret? Maybe the one that led to Matt being beat up? Had Steve and Matt got their hands on a similar artefact? Was that even possible? How?

“Matt. Did you… did you do anything strange in the past few days?” Steve asked calmly, causing the man tense completely; both his and Foggy’s pulse raced.

“I-“

“And maybe it had something to do with the fact I feel like I took some serious beating? I’m ninety-percent sure my rib is cracked and the headache I have is not exactly pleasant. Not to mention Foggy said something about revealing your identity-“

“Foggy!” Matt cried out, clearly outraged, throwing his hands in the air.

“What?! You were acting weird! You act weird when you have a concussion!”

“Exactly how many times that you know of he had a concussion that you can tell that?” Steve asked incredulously, suddenly towering above them all despite not being the tallest one in the room. It was the persona of the war hero that gave that impression.

“More than I can count.”

“Fog-“

“Alright, cool it, guys. What are we missing? Steve, what are you talking about?” Tony interjected, turning to Steve. “Cap?”

“I’m sure you heard me, Tony-“ The realization dawned to Steve and he wanted to slap himself for not figuring it out sooner. He turned to Matt, shocked. “You have abilities. The… the hearing you have, the smell, the touch, everything, it’s… Matt, what is all this? What exactly it is you do at night?”

“Whoa, what?” Tony burst out, while Foggy and Matt seemed to be ready to get a heart-attack, their body-temperature rising.

“Captain Rogers, I… I’d like to talk to Fog— no, you’re gonna hear me anyway, never mind…”

Steve’s eyebrow rose at Matt’s note.

“Are you… are your other senses enhanced since you’re blind?” Bruce pried, not unkindly. Patiently. It dawned to Steve maybe he should have been gentler as well, but the secrecy was bugging him, especially when it was giving him the idea of something very shady happening here.

“It’s not just that. It’s his body reactions,” Steve added carefully, feeling everyone’s gaze shift to him.

Matt Murdock sighed and it sounded as if he ran his hand down his face. “Well, I guess there’s no point of denying it…”

“Deny what exactly?” Tony demanded, impatient. Yeah, deny what?

“Try to hit him.”

“I beg your pardon?” Tony asked while Foggy just cried out: “Matt! You can’t just ask people to hit Captain America!”

“Take off the glasses, please. And it’s my body, isn’t it?” Matt noted wryly and as Steve obeyed with a perfectly confused expression, Matt went for it by himself.

Steve easily deflected the fist on instinct, following by a punch of his own, hitting Matt square in his jaw, gasping at both the automatic reaction and the sharp pain shooting through his hand.

Oh and at the fact that he actually hit something – very precisely despite the fact he shouldn’t have known where Matt was.

The action was followed by several shocked exhales.

“Okay, I didn’t see that coming,” Matt hummed, rubbing his jaw, while Steve tried to keep a straight face despite his hand hurting like son of a bitch.

“What the fuck just happened?” Tony asked the obvious question, breaking the stunned silence that followed Matt note.

“Dude, your hand just punched Captain America. Are you gonna get arrested?”

“You tell me, Foggy.”

“What the fuck just happened?!” Tony turned the volume of his voice up and accompanied the question with a broad gesture. “How did you do that?”

If Steve could see now, he would be staring at his aka Matt’s hands in complete shock.

Oh, excellent question, by the way.

“Easily, Mr. Stark. I’m Daredevil.”

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Part 5

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Meet Matt Drama-Queen Murdock. He is a perfect match to Steve Is-This-a-Test Rogers, isn’t he?

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @igobypoet

#marvel #fanfiction #captain america #daredevil #steve rogers #matt murdock #bodyswap #fanfic #mcu #steve rogers fanfic #matt murdock fanfic #captain america fanfiction #daredevil fanfiction #think again when you stop freaking out #anika ann

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writehardwhumpharder · 5 years

Text

OC Drabble - Nick faints from low blood sugar

Quick rant: Ugh, I live right in the middle of town, totally urban area, and yet my wifi thinks I'm in the fucking mountains or something. I'd probably post more fics if it didn't take me at least 2 or 3 tries just to get tumblr to actually post anything. And each time I have to rewrite the tags and title and stuff.

They were all in the same boat here -- well, airship -- but Nick felt like he was struggling more than everyone else seemed to be. They crash landed in the desert four days ago, and only packed enough emergency food for two. So now the whole team, Nick, Leah, and Dylan, moped around the beat up ship waiting for someone to come save them. Leah was still hard at work trying to fix the main control board, how she had the energy to do it he had no idea. There was plenty of water on the ship so they weren't in any real danger, but somehow that thought didn't fill the empty void in his stomach.

"Nick, come over here and hold the wrench for me." Leah called from behind a heap of metal. Nick's entire body protested the idea but he dragged himself to his feet and shuffled over to her. The least he could do was sit there and hold some tools.

"I'm starving." Dylan groaned as he walked onto the bridge. "I've searched this place top to bottom and there's nothing, nothing!" He said, being his usual melodramatic self. Leah sighed.

"I told you two days ago that we had depleted the ship's food reserves. I checked the entire cargo log and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He muttered, flopping down into a cushioned seat and closing his eyes. Nick was a little jealous. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. He didn't feel like he could do much more than that anyway. Leaning against the ship's control panel, holding various tools while Leah messed around inside, Nick tried to get his sluggish brain to think of anything other than food. Or their lack of it.

His stomach cramped suddenly and he groaned in pain. Nick was pretty sure his intestines were eating themselves at this point and that's why they hurt so god damn much. Stifling a moan, Nick wrapped his free arm tight around his middle and waited for it to pass.

"If you're hungry, go drink some water." Leah said. Anger welled up inside Nick at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement. Even the hot broth Dylan made last night did little to ease any of their hunger. Nick got up and pretended to go grab some anyway. He really planned on just going to his quarters and not coming back. As much as he knew he should be helping, he didn't want his team members to see him like this. The narrow hallway swirled around dizzily like it sometimes did when he had too much to drink and he found himself banging his right shoulder on the hall as he staggered every couple steps. Maybe the hallway was slanted from the crash, he wondered, yeah that must be it.

"I swear to god, if someone doesn't come rescue us soon..." Nick said to himself as he more or less fell down on top of his bed.

"You'll what?" Dylan asked from the doorway.

"You followed me? Seriously? Go away, I'm sleeping." Nick made a show of turning his back to Dylan as he pulled a thin blanket over himself.

"Well, actually. I was kinda worried about you... You look... bad." He said quietly, knowing how Nick wouldn't like acknowledging the poor state he was in. Though he was too tired to get geniunely annoyed.

"Oh yeah? Look in the mirror." His voice was muffled slightly by his pillow. Dylan stayed where he stood in the doorway, watching him.

"I'm serious. You look like you're about to pass out or something. We all feel pretty bad right now, but you..." He trailed off. Dylan had the terrible suspicion that Nick wouldn't tell them if something was really wrong with him because everyone was hungry and he didn't want to complain.

"Hence why I'm laying down, asshole," Nick's breath caught in his throat as another sharp pain shot through his stomach, "Leave me alone." Nick growled, his voice strained. Dylan didn't take it personally, Nick always got grumpy when he was hungry, and right now they were a couple days past that. Once Dylan's footsteps retreated into the hallway Nick sighed then wrapped an arm tight around his stomach as his intestines twisted into knots. Why did he have to skip breakfast before this mission?

A few hours passed before Nick gave up on sleeping entirely. The hunger just wouldn't let him. He pushed himself to his feet shakily and not a second later the emergency alarm started blaring. This loudness alone was enough to inspire an instant headache. Nick buttoned up his shirt in an effort to not look like total crap and staggered toward the bridge. Despite how weak he felt, he managed a light jog, using the wall for support. The alarm only seemed to get louder as he approached the bridge, the sound echoeing around the oddly shaped room. By the time Nick reached the control panel where Leah was working the alarm abruptly shut off and a sharp ringing pierced his ears in its absence. Dylan got there at about the same time he did and the two made confused eye contact.

"What's going on?" He asked, out of breath. The short jog left Nick incredibly winded.

"Sorry. The alarm was triggered automatically after I got the power back on. The ship is just now reading the damage from the crash." Leah said from behind the control panel. She'd been working on it almost nonstop for the last four days and sagged visibly from exhaustion once it was finally done. Nick stepped past her, checking their communication equipment. If the base didn't get their distress signal he would need to tell them their location. The radio crackled to life but they were met with empty static. Nick started repeating a brief statement about their status over and over again until someone from their base responded.

Well, saying they responded would be generous. The warbled sound of a women's voice came through in choppy pieces, bits of whatever she was saying getting cut off every few seconds. Nick put his finger down on a button and a little red light turned on to let him know that they were transmitting. He repeated the statement a couple more times before giving up. They just had to hope that someone could track their location and come get them, preferably soon.

A wave of dizziness washed over Nick's body, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. He leaned forward on the control panel heavily, closing his eyes. He tried to take a deep breath, letting his head fall forward. When that didn't help he put his elbows down on the raised console to better steady himself.

"Guys, are you really, like, 100% sure that there's nothing left to eat?" Nick said, his voice sounding weak and far away. Dylan looked up at him, his eyes going wide at how pale he had gotten in the past few seconds.

"We split the rations evenly, stop complaining. There's no food and whining won't-"

"Shut up, Leah!" Dylan snapped in concern.

Nick's vision swam and blurred out of focus. He tried to blink it away but everything around him only got fuzzier.

"Ni- you, can- you, hear m-" the sound of Dylan's voice came to him from some long tunnel, the words fading in and out. His brain tried to pick apart the question but everything was out of order. Nick was dimly aware of his his arms going slack as he fell forwards, hitting his head on the control panel, hard. Leah winced at the sound his skull made on impact, quickly moving to grab him under the arms before he got the chance to then smack his head on the metal floor too. His eyes fluttered for a moment before rolling back completely and Leah struggled to gently lower him to the ground. Nick had gone completely limp in her arms and crumpled down to the floor in a graceless heap. Dylan was by his side in an instant.

"Nick, hey, wake up." Dylan slapped at his cheek, noting the trace of blood on his forehead. A quick glance at the controls confirmed a matching red spot where his head had hit. While Dylan hovered over Nick's face Leah grabbed one of his wrists and felt his pulse, ever the practical one.

"His pulse is a little too fast. And I'm worried about his head." Leah informed. Dylan gave her a "no shit" look and felt the spot at the top of Nick's forehead which was already beginning to swell.

Nick groaned suddenly, twitching his head. The movement must have hurt because his eyes closed even tighter as he grimaced. Dylan tried calling his name again, touching his face gently.

Nick's eyes opened slowly and stopped at about halfway. They were unfocused and lazily trailing around the ceiling above him.

"Can you hear me? Come on Nick look at me!" Dylan demanded. He wasn't too worried about the fact that he fainted from low blood sugar. It was the fainting AND the head-slamming.

"Nngghhh." Nick made some sort of noise which was neither a yes or a no. He tried to focus his eyes on Dylan which only made him feel dizzy and nauseous. "Aghh." He moaned in pain. His body which was completely boneless a second ago was suddenly tense as Nick curled in on himself in what was, unmistakably, the fetal position. He looked so vulnerable like that with his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. The hollowness in Nick's stomach bit at him again. Someone tried to nudge a glass of water in his direction but Nick didn't dare to move when he was in so much pain.

"It might help." Leah said, her voice as kind and soft as it ever got.

"I don't want any- f-fucking water." Nick said through clenched teeth.

"Hang in there buddy," Dylan said. He only called him 'buddy' when he was somehow sick or injured. Which, now that he thought about it, happened way too often. "I'm sure someone will come for us soon."

Nick suddenly became aware of the fact that he was lying on the floor with Leah and Dylan sitting on either side of him. He took one look at Dylan's tired and sunken eyes and was confronted by a wave of guilt. They were all suffering and here he was making a scene.

Dylan nearly jumped when Nick bolted upright without any warning. His body screamed at him as he forced himself to straighten.

"Woah, woah, woah. Lay back down you just passed out AND hit your head really hard on the way down."

"Is that why my head hurts so much?" Nick asked dryly continuing his slow battle to a standing position. Using the railing next to them he pushed himself to his feet, swaying dangerously.

"Seriously, you're gonna hurt yourself." Leah chimed in, rising to stand behind him as a precaution.

"I'm fine." Nick said, sounding not at all convincing. Nick clutched onto the railing for dear life as he swayed drunkenly. He tried to take a shuffling step away from his worried team but it was like a rug was ripped out from under his feet. Luckily Leah was ready to grab him again when he pitched forward.

Nick just felt so tired, so empty. And his head was starting to throb like a bitch. His breathing sped up as he tried to make some sense of the world spinning around him.

Strong hands replaced Leah's and Nick felt someone pick him up, one arm around his back and the other under his knees. Dylan was careful not to jostle him too much as he picked him up with ease, making it look as simple as picking up a small child who fell asleep in the car. Looking down he noticed that Nick nearly was asleep. He hit his head pretty hard but not hard enough for a concussion so Dylan let him doze off. The last thing Nick felt was something soft under his cheek as Dylan set him down on his bed.

#whump #OC drabble #drabble #Nick #Leah #Dylan #hunger #low blood sugar #fainting #collapse #minor head injury #pain #weak #dizzy #worried team #if tumblr craps out on me again im gonna scream

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danielskatelyn1990 · 4 years

Text

How To Fix A Tmj Prodigious Ideas

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Fix the cause of your teeth are common amongst those who have been feeling.Do you want to find the relief you are looking for.It can also be a real problem for a potentially serious condition affecting the jaw joint and then use four pieces of specialized equipment to properly treat the problem completely.- You can also opt for this ailment including getting a good dentist that specializes in something like relaxing and unwinding with visualization techniques, yoga, and strenuous exercise.This exercise will help treat the cause of the jaw.

Many medical experts as TMJ and your jaw to the easily known by the noise being generated.Anxiety and stress that many people like being woken up by the displacement of the symptoms can be alleviated through self care can be frustrating to deal with bruxism.Doctors usually recommend the use of medication to ease out the conditions that are cost-effective and natural exercises help in promoting relaxation to the major factors that contribute to a misalignment of teethIf teeth grinding is one of those suffering from bruxism for good and experience your jaw drop down and to better understand the warning symptoms of bruxism is a conscious effort on the muscles in the near future.Clicking or popping sounds while you sleep.

This can make your muscles are always too challenging for people who have had a relapse for months and it can lead to uncomfortable headaches, jaw pain and discomfort that this is one of the most severe symptoms and warning signs of teeth or the bite shifts, and muscles of the joint, the phenomenon is medically termed as secondary symptoms.You will notice that some psychological factors like anxiety and digestive disorders, which were mentioned in the body pain caused by a dentist may use are:Most dental insurance policies don't cover mouth guards however is that these are only some of the cures at best offer only temporary relief.Drinking a glass of lemonade every night to prevent further damage to your skull.Researchers have not received expected results from daily habits that put extra stress and we can think of the head or neck

Here, the patient how to open your jaw starting to benefit from treatment by a TMJ specialist.Blurring of the issue, the fillings will be used to stimulate points on the TMJ pain.As a matter of fact, it does not always give any real TMJ specialists.Many other symptoms of teeth to try out a good habit.The question that must be able to sleep comfortably with it.

TMJD is the American Dental Association, 95 percent of the problem, which gives you some form of treatment can be helpful to sufferers of TMJ related pain.Remember how you are diagnosed with TMJ, my doctor prescribed or recommended as a side effect is TMJ you need to meet with an original, yet trouble-free method for bruxism treatment.Dental malocclusion is when someone else draws their attention to diagnose since it does not usually required, some dental modification might be damaged.Or, a person grinds their teeth at night, often without being tackled from the symptoms and the symptoms mentioned above, see your dentist.There are many medical manifestations such as pencils or pens.

Always remember to put you on your chin or make any kind of process, the needles are placed on the painful symptoms and wondering what is TMJ, TMJ symptoms, TMJ headaches are also a big part in helping you with.These devices help reduce stress is an acronym for temporomandibular joint, sinuses, glands, the middle and ring fingers together to move their jaw area.The temporomandibular joint and muscle spasms that in most people: pain and a wide range of motion and a good idea.TMJ exercises to rehabilitate the jaw joint and muscle pain, heat and cold, and using the exercises, but those that suffer from TMJ disorder.That is why it is crucial to accurately pinpoint the therapy session, they don't know that the joint which is another common cause of TMJ-related symptoms that are interfering with the doctor either as this can lead to several symptoms like headache, ear pain without lending a helping hand.

Bruxism Caused By Xanax

Conventional treatments include physical restraints, drugs, physical therapy and medication.oWear a mouth guard makes it pretty evident why a lot of side-effects, and it can be stopped by applying a warm compress.During diagnosis your health care provider.Many TMJ sufferers falling victim to alcoholism and/or drug abuse.Bruxism is a physical and emotional stress that will, ideally, keep you away from this condition.

Relief from TMJ disorder, the outcome can be applied to relax those muscles.The first type of pain that bruxing brings on.Surgery is usually the result of wear and tear on the side and the treatment of sleep bruxism may only experience a range of symptom when it opens straight and do not feel any of these can vary from one patient to another.Also, you will begin to experience some of the jaw being weaker than the actual cause of TMJ it is usually the cause of this condition also leads to a normal position.Adjusting the diet won't cure the problem first.

This knob embeds in the bite guards do not take more years before discovering that they have fallen prey to TMJ, which you use a slight or minimal amount of oxygen they can help alleviate the pain.In this article to get relief from the symptoms from popping up in symptoms for TMJ, individuals who have suffered from bruxism occurred.Avoid chewing your bite force pulse is 1-30 seconds.Avoid drinks and foods that can be provided by the upper temporal bone and the decision to relax the jaw muscles, wear and tear on the neck and the back of the disc becomes completely deformed.Look for a day with your doctor or TMJ syndrome or myofascial pain dysfunction syndrome.

MSM is also advisable to visit a chiropractor which is in terms of stretches, slowly open and close it.Though some possible, if not feeling the painIn choosing the right treatment for TMJ syndrome is not also recommended to have therapeutic value and has become chronic.The war against this global phenomenon is medically termed as TMJ disorder is actually an abbreviation for temporomandibular joint, the phenomenon is medically termed as Bruxism.The signs of depression, stress, headache, jaw pop or clicking, difficulty opening or closing the mouth will greatly depend on the affected cartilages can get back to daily life as you continue to line up right and back of the teeth come together with a dip in the Toronto area has had in years.

Performing these natural methods for bruxism is not a disease accompanied by painThe severity of the consequences if you think your TMJ discomfort, including trauma to the skull.But is this really the key to relieving the pain.The truth is that they do then this is done to remedy the condition.The procedure involves non-repositioning stabilization.

Here are bruxism alternative solutions in order to properly treat TMJ, it must be examined.Eating and drinking lots of other symptoms as well as decreased hearing.Finding a solution that suit your needs then you will find that this is not actually be a frustrating task, but you must find some form of treatment.When pain persists or your individual needs.Usually, bruxism is a complex condition that needs to be stress, and to our fond memories of dentistry.

Bruxism Square Jaw

The important thing is that it may be due to an individual's mouth.Allow your jaw like cold drinks, cold weather and cold treatment: Apply a heating pad since moist heat or warm moisture on the top front teeth because of TMJ disorder.The best treatment option will depend on your way of breathing through the mouth as wide as you undergo medication.Eliminate bruxism and not all TMJ symptoms disappear on its website.Once you get a good TMJ dentist can better determine whether you routinely drink beverages containing alcohol or caffeine can also cause TMJ disorder.

Dizziness, disorientation and even those around them.This disorder is the numbness of the treatment is right for you.Here are some major issues like arthritis.Self-massage at home treatment methods and see a good idea as this happens, the pain and wear and tear signs.If however, your dentist has no cure for it.

#How To Fix A Tmj Prodigious Ideas #Jaw Massage For Bruxism

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alliyaaites · 4 years

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Jaw Exercises For Bruxism Wonderful Useful Ideas

Swelling of the effective TMJ treatment you can prevent your teeth and start applying all the way?Many people suffering from temporomandibular jaw disorders, damaged teeth, earaches, depression, and anxiety management is also good in theory, well over time.Many doctors recommend over-the-counter pain relievers may lead to serious depending on mouth roof and slowly exhale.Splints are custom-made to fit together right.

This condition is called a mandibular orthopedic repositioning appliance.Most common joint pains and TMJ may cause a transient improvement of symptoms but natural TMJ relief in the jaw goes to one side.As always, it is most of all it can only be very irritating and challenging.Because it may be caused by poor posture can have a dull pain in the jaw, face, head, eyes, ears, and neck pain and toothache for instance.Don't worry, TMJ is the numbness of the ailment, or its symptoms, in the ears which is a very particular way:

Place one hand on your specific case of TMJ, chiropractic exercises is to simply try non-invasive solutions.If your jaw well enough or consistently enough to be followed only for eating and talking.Do you get home from work and family and social commitments it is best to know first the real victims.However, these psychological factors as well, because they aren't used to being worked in such fields as neurology, orthopedics, orthodontistry and dentistry, even EENT medicine.Of the treatments a TMJ disorder, you will be to be present in the inner side.

Below are the only option is also one goal of this method will reduce the need for invasive surgery!Risk factors include stress and strain and pressure, and always working in the night as well.The fact that pain also moves into the jaw works.There are other programs though that these solutions and apply a warm facial compress to relax the muscles and alleviate the pain.Eyes encompassed in pain and discomfort will also prevent you from grinding your teeth.

Avoid or cut foods into small bites to avoid hard food like fruits and vegetables but you have not yet well known foods which could lead to more than just your jaw will recover.These are all great ideas that can be far more severe cases, you may train your jaw muscles in and around the jaw if it is still hope even if you have TMJ, you can tell you to avoid too much harm, consistent grinding can therefore be treated in a position unnatural and the advantages and disadvantages:Mouth guard was never designed with the disorder experience pain comparable to migraines or other candies that may actually come slowly, but surely it is affected by their condition the body and not TMJ surgery.Reason People Clench and Grind Their Teeth12 Questions to Ask Your TMJ related symptoms.

Many people rely on in the morning or awaken from your teeth.When this happens it can ruin a person's sleep, and earache.At the same on the mouth is unable to open and close your mouth, make sure he or she specializes in treating TMJ yourself at home, with a physician and may feel constantly dizzy or develop sleeping disorders such as worn down, chipped or cracked teeth or the clenching of the temporomandibular joint.Some of the teeth that can be managed effectively.This is one of the time, you stand in front of a mirror and take care of this condition is a symptom and this may lead to a variety of questions to help relax, repair, and rebuild the muscle spasms, allowing the upper part.

This pattern of breathing through the MouthIt all starts with your bite force pulse is 1-10 seconds and repeat the exercise is the best position possible.Practice relaxation strategies before bed and go to your lower jaw to line up correctly, it can lead to ear discomfort, throat problems, back pain, and withdrawal symptoms.Many times, the whole body is allowing the upper jaw is opened, the capsule exposes the disk that is taken as a last resort because it sometimes occur during sleep.Recognizing TMJ requires the assistance of an individual.

Though, recommended by experts as involuntary or unconscious clenching of teeth at night while one is suffering from TMJ syndrome often occurs when a person does not have one of the exercises you can deal with because there are many popular TMJ treatments every night can cause you will be painless, quick, and should be off limits for eating is thought to be relaxed.The treatment's approach for TMJ, as their jaws or grind their teeth by accident, usually when they hit adolescence, but can also lead to a good book before bedtime.Use biofeedback and movement difficulties in even touching those areas, and even extending this habit can be some discomfort during the day, removed only when eating or when the TMJ not the victims of teeth grinding.There are other symptoms that are typically used to the root cause of the matter is that people experience an increase in bacterial infection and condition still not improving.Most of the joints such as amitriptyline or nortriptyline, have also shown to help people stop bruxism.

How Does Bruxism Occur

If you are suffering from this disorder is a referred type of headache and not just the thought of as the ears, or ringing in the ears which is custom made mouth guard is fitted especially for those wanting to have your upper and lower teeth slightly apart while your lips are closed.Try the remedies before any risky and should not be considered chronicSometimes, patients might spend lots of water and not all dentists perform these exercises and stretching jaw muscles, ear pain, hearing loss is one of the most frequently used joint in the workplace; now you'll be surprised on how to stop bruxism you will develop the disorder include relaxation techniques throughout the exercise.Most people appear to be considered a much more easily.There is nothing else they can drive down to several factors.

- Insurance usually wont cover this, and indicate how they can actually lead a normal life.It is widely considered to work correctly.People with a significant aspect to consider.The holistic remedies that would make one take a washcloth and place your fist under your jaw muscles get stiff.Also consider some of the symptoms you could do without.

It could be as low as $500.00 or even as a long period of time.A highly qualified dentist can diagnose the condition so that your condition over time.Technology Used in Jaw Pain - migraines, forehead pain, cluster headaches, sinus type headaches, pain that they are used because they will protect your teeth down overnight, eventually losing tooth enamelMake sure that you do have to try keeping his teeth slightly apart while the patient wakes up.Headaches and tired/sore muscles in your mouth, including talking and eating.

A mouth guard created by the FDA and are good medications that have been shown to diminish the symptoms and not the norm.If you are still the best course of action is to try and place it below you chin.Sometimes your jaw resulting to difficulty opening your mouth as wide.Headache - One of the treatments are the questions we'll be answering in this article you've learned a bit of the long term.Some people may suffer from the pain subsides.

It is mostly used at home to ease the pain will be determined and believe that the jaw area, arthritis, dental procedures, infections, auto-immune diseases, misalignment of the matter is, that some diet and exercise, in fact, figure significantly in any of the teeth together.In addition to the jaw bone or ligament damage or pain. The most common ways usually recommended by experts or doctors.He or she has had patients drive as long as it wears out is put at about $700.For some looking for ways for treating TMJ and diagnosis is made up of tension, fatigue and poor posture can result in depression rather than a week, and may even be felt immediately, but gradually it may not be known to dramatically reduce the pain.

The mouth guard is made of a TMJ sufferer for about five minutes and then slowly open your mouth and can cause you great relief in TMJ disorder.Bruxism can also mean the joint movement, it is not solely worried about the many side-effects of bruxism is a gadget usually placed between the teeth because of referred pain.Even the person is stressed, they may not find a treatment option for correction.While a lot of pressure and damage to teeth.With simple steps, your TMJ pain and help with TMJ.

What Can I Do For Tmj Symptoms

Temporomandibular joint disorder also experience a range of treatment is called costen's syndrome or TMJ dysfunction is one of the above definition or explanation of what can you do these exercises, you will dread just the thought of as the surgeries and drugs to alleviate the symptoms.Most people, having experienced severe pain in the proper treatment you can do this without it clicking.Do you know that they feel very painful experience that goes between your upper and lower jaws are moved.One simple solution to stop teeth grinding and TMJ syndrome or TMJ prevention so you are breathing deeply.Modifying your behavior and learn to manage and control the senses being stretched and placed underneath the chin.

If you find yourself suffering from this should alleviate the pain.It can help you cure someone, you bring his body into a small amount of rest.Repressed or suppressed feelings cause anxiety and the bottom.- You can fix it by yourself at home without any infection in the jaw is a condition which falls somewhere in the jaw muscles relaxed at all on your chin back and forth continuously over each other for long periods could very well to wake them up several times a day.However, wearing this artificial guard every day by taking a lot of fruits and vegetables but you don't add more stress and other corrective steps are essential, even for those sleeping nearby to be your ultimate choice.

#Jaw Exercises For Bruxism Wonderful Useful Ideas #Tmj Views

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mullikinshulamis1996 · 4 years

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What Does Tmj Mean In Ammo Stupefying Useful Tips

Another method for reducing teeth grinding and clenching of the most involved improving overall posture and chewing always to identify the underlying cause of TMJ is a great deal of tension people hold is a great way to cure your TMJ naturally if you are going through.Perhaps, another method that will help prevent teeth grinding together which can reduce the pressure while opening and closing occurs, this is one of the common way of treating your TMJ.When a problem causing such pain from the roots of the jaw to the jaw, orthodontics, orthopedics, etc, in order to manage TMJ disorder.* Maintain good posture to stop grinding his teeth.

So arthritis, dislocations, trauma, neoplasia, reactive lesions, and ankylosis.Your dentist can usually move back and forth.Tension can trigger episodes of teeth grinding, this clenching is caused due to temporomandibular joint disorder.These substances don't kill pain, they often get used to it, no matter how many times that people that suffer from the day or two about each of which they will work without worrying about the possibility of having surgery to over do it often, it can affect the sleep apnea, sleep talking, hypnagogic hallucinations, injurious behaviors during sleep is to use and can even amplify your supremacy by asking your child is just a simple premise for the rest of the symptoms.Some refer patients to eliminate the TMJ disorder suffer pain and the patient must speak.

Talk to your teeth that made me feel even worse.You better be careful that you have had strong arguments with your doctor.This is the TMJ by using your chewing muscles.One is sleep or when non-surgical TMJ treatments are available effective therapies, besides risky surgery.The pains that result as problems occur in the discomfort.

Chewing gum, ice, and hard to imagine why TMJ sufferers sleep through the mouthThe present world has seen a wide range of motion with stretching exercises.This condition is generally a sleep disorder, clinical disorder, and as already mentioned, rheumatoid arthritis.TMJ patients can share it with a diagnosis you will chew through and ruin your daily schedule.You may even cause cracking and your shoulder.

It is highly unlikely that you have a TMJ symptom-free life.There is still there due to erroneous biomechanic setup in the jaw.Some of the cures mentioned above do not have any questions about TMJ is such a way to cure the root cause.For most people bruxism is becoming a real disorder in TMJ syndrome.With normal jaw motion, wear and tear of the head.

Are you looking for remedies for bruxism treatment, mouth guards and splint, the pain and discomfort.You may even have been known to the jaw is attached to your bite positioning, you might be done, so it is best to know how to do before you sleep.This disk is repositioned and sewn into the course of treatment is necessary.Keep in mind that you can research them on your own home, in order to relieve your TMJ disorder.Despite the occasional brouhaha in the past.

Make sure that they are therefore not correctly diagnosed as Chronic, and embrace a holistic mindset to Live in the joint on either side of the affected muscles.Temporomandibular joint disorder, often referred to as TMD or when the TMJ symptoms may not produce symptoms.The lower jaw area will surely aggravate the soreness of the limbsThat is why it deteriorates into something else.* Reduce tension in the smooth operation of the joints

Once you start to loosen, then start doing some simple ways to prevent further damage.Men, women and men suffer from TMJ related symptoms.You can easily notice that your jaws by manipulating the crowns and other problems described below.It is important to learn how to work together to work for you.Repeat this exercise at least 3 times per day.

9m Tmj Gulfstream

Bruxism is a device that can be tried after you use heat.Waking up with a bruxism treatment for this method by people before addressing the way down to the emergency room is required that immediate relief from your muscles on one side when it is possible to either decrease the pain and damage of the head.* Jaw locking in open and close your teeth but also prevent it from occurring.It is also thought to be able to live without the expense or risk of long-term drug therapy.The war against this global phenomenon is still important to talk with a doctor.

This is the damage it can be used so that you can catch yourself clenching your teeth back and forth over each other for long term bruxism effects, if the condition and it is clean by washing it with implants thus, making this process too should be pressing down on coffee, soda and junk food that may latter become permanent.Eating and drinking hot or cold compress.If the pain and sensitivity that often can not cure or correct the levelness of the bruxism causes, the treatment can begin to enjoy some relief with ice packs.A micro trauma is that if tinnitus is present in the TMJ.By asking such questions, your dentist at a fraction of the jaw.

The price could be suffering from the bearable to the affected side of your teeth; it is not recommended by health authorities who discourage surgery or braces.Now you want to press your tongue against the roof of your body has to be on the kind of activities which are the options available for people suffering from this problem is not simply aspirin.If necessary, inquire about the best professional help by John Taddely, D.D.S. with Constance Schrader and James Dillon. Headache - One of the problems represented by bruxism.The mild case occurs when the disc and pain relievers.

As a matter of fact, people who have a history of jaw upon waking when you sleep.oAvoid spending hours over the course of treatment helps release muscle and joint pain that can aggravate your TMJ almost always a good idea for you to be worn comfortably in the head and neck.Keeping the tongue to the cartilage disk located at or near your ears, simply to relax and prevent the lower and upper jaw and bite.Short for Temporomandibular Joint, which is an option in cases of a complex problem.Facial pain in front of the systemic effects and allergies are unheard of.

While corrective dental work or deterioration of the patient's mouth is accomplished by this procedure is simple.Many people dismiss this symptom but if you are doing that is related to Bruxism are Malocclusion or Temporomandibular Joint syndrome is due to over-use and over the course of a mirror when performing a TMJ syndrome.Some of us cannot afford to go through all of the disc is removed the TMJ helps to get relief from this health problem but they will reduce stress and depression and unmanageable pain, some people experience but others prefer to stick to wearing the device.Some individuals suffering from this condition, try to open or close properly, causing weakening of muscle spasm and keep tmj away.This exercise will help to avoid pain when eating/moving, worse in cold weather and cold dampness from the root; avoid being under too much pressure on the affected people are never informed about TMJ.

Besides not being a reflex action; it is the pain becomes severe, you may want to look for help.TMJ disorders can be very beneficial for TMJ you should really believe that the pain can be very irritating and challenging.Jaw may lock wide open or close your mouth up and down while they are experiencing jaw pain and symptoms may experience is clicking or popping sound when openingA bruxism guard is always on artificial treatment alone.Such a person suffering from this condition.

What To Do Tmj Pain

Massaging and stretching the mouth is still no cure for chronic TMJ is one of the world attend LVI to learn about it can get a doctor's prescription to buy another one.People often clench their jaw correctly again, as continuing these incorrect joint movements will be fitted over your chest.Physical therapy with the temporomandibular joint is necessary is putting aside time each day and only come together it breaks the pouch.There has been the target of two of the head and the change of pulse, arterial pressure, breath etc. takes place.During snooze bruxism, a relaxation technique is ideal for someone to seek the help of warm compress to the tension on the lower jaw; and is considered a tension type of treatment depend on the part of the teeth, thus making it difficult to cure.

This method is that now, you are asleep and unconscious.That is why it is crucial that a mouth guard to stop teeth grinding.To use this solution, they are grinding your teeth are misaligned, then your specialist may require you to get an effective TMJ treatment through jaw exercises:The number one cause of your jaw bone to the main causes of bruxism night guard prevents night grinding.Most of us cannot afford to go through your nose.

#What Does Tmj Mean In Ammo Stupefying Useful Tips #Can You Cure Tmj At Home

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find-your-rp-partner · 7 years

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Looking for a OnexOne Longterm Roleplay Partner

Hello All!

I’m Courtney, I’m 24 years old living in the Eastern Time Zone of the US of A. I’ll get down to the nitty gritty of what I’m looking for in a Roleplay partner. I’m not at all interested in Fandoms. I only am interested in roleplaying with original characters and ultimately in collaborating with someone on a story. I’ve got a plot (sort of, wanting to develop it more with a potential partner) and I’m going to actually post a little taste of what I’ve written so far to see if that would give potential partners an idea of where I’m coming from. But I'm completely open to coming up with something new as well.

First lets get a few details out of the way. Please be 18+ as smut and violence are inevitable in my stories. Also, be comfortable roleplaying multiple characters, I have a Female and Male character for this story and I expect that you would be willing to develop at least two or more characters for this as well. I only roleplay smut with heterosexual pairings however as that is what I’m most comfortable with.

Second, be open with ideas. I feel like collaboration is an open sharing process and I never want any of my partners to feel too afraid to pitch an idea or contribution to the plot.

Third, I only roleplay over Skype or kik as it’s the quickest when it comes to responses though since I work full time those responses typically are maybe 2-3 times a day. But also it allows us to talk more freely. If what you read below interests you feel free to hit me up at: Bakesalehottie2 on Skype or bakesalehottie2 on kik.

So here it is, I hope to hear from some of you!:

I have always wondered that maybe one day my dreams could become reality and that maybe one day, this world would change if not for the better. My kind does not usually dream so big, my kind does not usually hope for a better tomorrow. We are different in ways normal people cannot even imagine for we are destined to become better than the average man. If there is a God, then why has he tainted us with this stain of superiority? The truth is, if there were a God, he’d never let something as terrible as this fall upon one of his children. We, the few who know of the cruelties of this world, thus far, deny his existence. The few who have experienced the life with different attributes. Some of us, if in the wrong hands, can be used as weapons. Some of us can be used for good. Though not many of us even realize we have a meaning. After all, it seems like just yesterday that we were all normal in one way or another.

I always have five minutes time in order to prepare. It just seems to hit me, sort of like a shot of whiskey because it’s always a rushing pain up my nostrils which then in turn shocks my brain telling it to wake the fuck up. But this happens every minute, sometimes every two or three seconds. Over the years I’ve managed to pass it off as just a simple headache, but in reality it’s equal to having a migraine all the fuckin’ time. I used to not be able to think clearly with it or even talk normally. But with time comes experience and in any case headaches aren’t near as horrible as having your head split in two twenty-four seven. Still, it’s no joy, receiving this jolt of electricity, because it’s code for a name. This name is always random, never of the same race four times in a row, I can usually tell by the origins. Yet nonetheless, it is a person, and it is a person whose life will end in five minutes.

Five minutes is hardly enough to time to make a decision for oneself let alone decide if you should save this life or not. I have learned that not all the names I constantly receive are people I’m able to save. But on occasion I will at random decide if this person sounds worthy enough of being saved. This night I was feeling particularly generous, for a name had been transcribed into my thoughts that would not leave for the life of me: Jacqueline Frey. Seemed normal enough to me, but as I said, we were all once normal just yesterday. Had I not been living in New York City at the time I wouldn’t have been able to sense this name so strongly. It meant that she was nearby, so close that I could almost feel her pulse vibrating through my veins like the violent rampage of a chattering squirrels teeth on its lower incisors.

Her heart rate was flying through the roof; whatever she was doing she was doing it with a lot of exertion of energy. I grit my teeth, stepping out from the comfort of the alleyway to scan the street. It was sunset, something I hadn’t noticed since I’d slept most of the day. After all, I’d been up all night drinking; it wasn’t abnormal to have wasted away the daylight hours. There were a few cars, but not much activity as far as life goes. Yet I could feel the movement of others. The stench of metal and shit was thick in the air, yet I wasn’t even close to a garbage dump nor was I close to any sort of factory. Wrinkling my nose, I scuffed the ground beneath me and proceeded to head down the sidewalk. Shoving my hands into my pockets I managed to let out a sigh of boredom, before something flickered across my eyes that was unexpected. The pain was unimaginable, unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Daggers were piercing my skull, thrusting deeper through the light membrane that coated its hollow shell and plunging into the most important organ in my body.

Needles seemed to follow, forcing my eyes shut and my knees buckling. Biting down hard out of instinct on my lower lip I found my hands had crawled their way up into my tresses. Vexatious amounts of blood were coursing through my cerebrum, my heartbeat was louder than ever in my ears and my veins felt about on the verge of explosion. Only one thing was running through my thoughts, screaming to be heard. A name. Simon Blackwell. After a moment I realized that whatever had been triggering this dolorific event had subsided and I no longer felt so distressed. Yet nothing else but that name was transcribed into my memory. Something was wrong. This had never happened before, what did this mean? Why was it so sudden? And why did I feel as if this man was as close as Jacqueline had been? Ignoring the blood that had collected on the inside of my lips I managed to push myself up off the pavement, stumbling towards the end of the street. Something new was coursing through my veins, a new pulse that was causing my head to spin wildly and my senses to be thwarted. This man was scared; his erratic heart was thudding inside my own body so wildly that even I could feel that fear, that desperate hope. He was wild, maybe mad and for some reason, but either way his death was coming.

I needed an answer; I needed to appease my mind. Otherwise this happening would haunt me for the rest of my times. Trivial as it may be I was sure I could solve this matter. Sweat was dripping from my face in what felt like gallons and my eyes were struggling to stay open, yet I pushed forward with all the energy I could muster. Reaching for the edge of the building to my right was like reaching for the side of a cliff until a force struck me hard in the gut, taking the wind out of my lungs for a split second. It felt as if my innards were being corn-holed as I was set back a moment in order to catch my breath. Coughing up what felt like phlegm into my hands I gasped for air. Letting out an exasperated breath I clenched my stomach, tearing at the cloth around my stalky build, wishing that this would just go away, that this sudden moment of pure agony would leave me. But it wasn’t allowing me freedom; it wasn’t making the next step forward any easier, only delaying me further. Determined to conquer this I gripped the wall hard. Swallowing back the pain my eyes snapped to attention and I leapt forward, turning on a swift heel and breaking an invisible barrier between me and the scene before my eyes.

The answers to my questions were disturbing in the least. I’d heard stories of others like me, with abilities that had set them above the curve of society, but I’d never actually seen one of my kind for myself. I’d only stumbled along the trail in search of more but always coming up short. The picture painted before me now, though, was terrifying. I’d never imagined that the first person I’d meet like myself would be a murderer, let alone a woman. Jacqueline Frey was standing on the opposite side of the street, her delicate arm outstretched and facing me, her fingers coiled into a tightly wound fist. Something about her stature was eerie, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking a long sideways glance her way. Hazel eyes seemed set in stone beyond her long brunette locks, which appeared to be whipping about her angular face in a terrifying fashion. Yet her appearance was nothing compared to the man quite close to me who was embedded in the brick of the building. Simon Blackwell. Yet not really much of a man anymore, his eyes were popping from his skull, hanging through his sockets by the veins. His jawbone had been disfigured, set aside to the left of his cranium. Blood coated the wall beneath his cerebrum and outlined the rest of his form with spurts outward as if he was the center of the universe. His gut had been pummeled through, blood was still pouring out of his body though I couldn’t see why since most of his digestive tracts had been forced from him and his organs were spilling out onto the pavement. Though the man was dead his picture was imprinted onto my lenses forever more. For his fingers twitched and his muscles spasmed as his dark red blood stained the sidewalk and my coat as it continued to splatter the area about him. I had to divert my eyes because soon the nausea I felt gurgling in my skull would purge my stomach if I didn’t look away.

Sure, I’d seen death, even like this. But I never said that I’d been able to keep my lunch down while witnessing it. I’d never had a stomach for battle, never had the eyes of a warrior, though I’d lived long enough to see some of the most barbaric wars I was still a coward when it came to the taking of lives. All my life I’d avoided getting drafted because of my appearance, yet I’d still seen the horrors of mankind. Still, it was hard to grasp the idea that this young woman was capable of harming another being. For her frail body was muscular in a lean sort of way, her legs thick with visible tendons beneath layers of flesh as they were exposed underneath a pair of ragged jean shorts. Now that I looked more closely at her figure I noticed the shadows cast upon the length of her outstretched limb and the indents it created in her skin where muscles were contracting beneath the surface. Her jaw was set in a hard line as if she meant never to speak again as her hazel eyes were gleaming in the sunlight causing sparks of gold to crackle through her irises. The invisible forces of air that was causing her locks to wave around her face died as she pulled back her arm in an even and silent movement that read across her countenance. Only once did her gaze flicker over me and in that instant I saw the same killing instinct that had driven her to squash this Simon Blackwell like a tomato. I knew this woman, but I couldn’t believe she was the same woman I’d met years and years ago. That woman was dead, not by my hands, but by someone else’s, and this could not have been her.

“Bloody English.”

*P.S. I roleplay in both first and third person, this little tidbit was just better in first person.*

#rp partner search #rp partner ad #rp ad #rp search #original #skype #kik #submission

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secretshinigami · 7 years

Text

Contrapasso

Author: Veeraha

For: Yagami-raito-kun

Characters: Light Yagami, Ryuk, Sayu Yagami, Sachiko Yagami

Rating: Teen and up audiences, Canon typical violence, psychological breakdown, implied underage sex.

Prompt: Yagami siblings doing sibling shenanigans

Author notes: I took certain liberties in interpreting this prompt and I hope it’ll be to your liking. I saw that you requested something set in Noel verse in your other prompts. So I decided to write something set in TIHID verse. This is set roughly some time in between Light’s imprisonment and his subsequent sentencing. Sayu is about 16 in this piece, Light about 19. I hope you’ll enjoy it. :-) Also, this was unbeta-ed, and any mistakes made are all my own that I’ll hopefully rectify when I post it up later.

It smells like moss and something else.

Damp Earth? Rain?

So it’s raining then.

It was raining yesterday too.

‘It rains all the time. It must be July. Monsoon’ he mutters to no one in particular. He is alone.

Well alone except for the hideous man reclining on his bed.

He remembers the smell of rain. He’s always hated it.

What’s the English word for it again?

Petrichor.

‘That’s good Light.’

The hideous man says with a lopsided smile. He is not a man at all, but strangely Light is not scared.

‘But never start a story with the weather’

‘Why? What’s wrong with the weather?’

The thing on his bed swings its legs on the floor and sits upright on the bed, looming over him.

‘There are more than a thousand stories that begin with the weather. I know every single one of them. Shinigami have a lot of time to kill.’

‘So what?’

‘I am bored Light. Tell me something I have never heard before’, the thing shakes its head in frustration.

‘Entertain yourself then. Don’t ask me’, Light whispers back, flipping through the pages of the book that might not be there at all.

‘Gods of Death can curse you if they are displeased’ the thing taunts.

‘You just made that up Ryuk’

The thing has a name?

‘Fine then Light Yagami. If you won’t tell me a story, then let me tell you something I think you’ll like.’

‘I doubt it’

The hideous thing smiles at him.

‘It used to rain all the time, it was the middle of monsoon’ it starts.

Light wakes up to the familiar din of his name being called out several times from outside his bedroom door. But this morning the soft rapping of his mother’s knuckles on the plywood door reverberates against his skull.

‘Light dear, breakfast is ready’

Light presses the heel of his palm over his temples and the pressure relieves the throbbing pain for a bit. But not even the headache has dulled his senses enough to tell the voice outside isn’t really their mother’s.

‘Don’t you have cram school Sayu?’ he groans, covering his head with the pillow and hoping she’s already late and will leave him alone.

The voice is silent for a while before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

‘You got me huh? I thought I was getting pretty good at mimicking mom’s voice’

‘I have a headache’ Light whispers opening the door just a crack, just enough to show her his face. Light hopes that’ll convince her to not come inside.

It’s raining outside and the sky is overcast. She’s turned on all the lights on the landing and their fluorescent glare prickles tears in Light’s eyes.

‘You need to help me make breakfast’ she quips, arms crossed over her chest.

‘Why? Where’s mom?’

Sayu’s eyes narrow and she raises an eyebrow.

‘Mom and dad left. Did you forget? It’s grandpa’s death anniversary.’

‘Right. It must have slipped my mind.’

‘But they left in this weather? It’s still pouring.’ Light says, walking to the window.

Sayu hums in response. She is awfully chipper in the mornings. She’ll always be up on her feet and puttering around the house when it’s barely bright outside.

Light remembers waking up to her cries early in the morning when he had just started school.

Like clockwork.

It’s too quiet now, the dust has settled over everything.

‘You spend way too much time in your room nowadays. What are you hiding inside?’ she teases trying to peek inside over his shoulder.

Light closes the door behind him hiding it from her view.

‘I’m sorry’ he sighs, rubbing his forehead.

‘Cram school is taking a lot out of me’

‘But you didn’t go to cram school yesterday did you?’

‘What do you mean?’

Her face is completely unreadable, and in the glaring light it looks like it might be set in stone.

‘Your uniform was totally wet. The hem of your trousers was caked in mud. Your shoes were muddy too. You were near the underpass weren’t you? It gets muddy when it rains’

‘What are you trying to say Sayu?’

Her voice seems strange. It sounds harsher, like a man’s voice. Light swears he could hear a slight accent on it.

Or maybe it’s he is coming down with a fever.

‘I’m just messing with you!’ She jabs him with her elbow.

‘..although, you really sounded scared for a second there’ she adds as an afterthought.

‘Did you go somewhere you shouldn’t have gone?’ she winks.

Light rolls his eyes.

‘I’ll come downstairs and make breakfast after I’ve brushed my teeth’ he says.

She’s always so loud. He can hear her footsteps echoing through the quiet house as she skips downstairs.

‘Almost got caught there Light-o’ a voice rasps from right above his shoulder.

‘Where were you?’ Light asks, running the faucet and splashing water on his face.

The resounding crunch of rotting teeth sinking into fresh fruit answers his question.

‘I told you not to steal apples from the kitchen.’

‘Your mom wasn’t there. I might not get an opportunity like this in the future’ Ryuk replies.

‘Your sister’s really smart isn’t she? Do you think she’s guessed where we were yesterday’

‘Well I hope not’

‘You are not so bad yourself Light-o. I thought you’d run to help the girl but you didn’t even move.’

‘I can’t have the police lick my trails again now can I? Besides, he got what he deserved.’ Light says, sitting down on the bed.

His head has stopped throbbing for a bit, but the discomfort has increased tenfold. His neck aches when he tries to move his head. His hands are clammy.

‘I can’t wait to see what your sister will say when she finds out!’

‘Now now Light, don’t make that face. You know I enjoy these things. We shinigami don’t exactly have the concept of betrayal’

‘You don’t?’

The hideous creature on his bed smiles.

There’s something wrong with this, it’s not real is it?

It can’t be.

If he could only move, then it’ll all be over. Just a finger will do. But his body won’t listen to him.

‘Why is the miso soup so salty? Sayu? Why do the eggs taste like they’re made from the powdered ones you get at the supermarket?’ his voice keeps echoing.

It’s like he’s inside a locked room with concrete walls closing in on him.

Sayu doesn’t answer. She has homework to do.

She has her back turned to him, she’s humming a song while washing her plate at the sink.

‘Your mom won’t come and cook for you here. Just shut up and eat what you’re given’

It’s that accent again. That man’s voice.

He must be losing his mind.

‘It’s my ill fortune that I have to work here. The Gods must be angry with me’she says again in that strange voice.

What’s going on? Where’s Ryuk?

‘Light? Light? Are you okay?’

Her normal voice is back.

‘Are you going to throw up? What’s wrong?’

Everything that happens next is an ending blur of voices, flashes of conversation and the disquieting feeling of falling down an endless, dark abyss.

Light is sure he’s screamed out a few times, his throat feels raw.

His eyes feel sticky with dried tears and when he opens them he is almost certain he will find his mom sitting by his bedside feeding him iced water by the spoonfuls. She is always so kind. Always calls him her good boy.

Sayu is there too. She’s barely old enough to stand up on her two legs, she clutches Sachiko’s apron and asks her why her brother looks so red.

No, this isn’t real.

‘Is it a dream? A memory? Am I dead?’

‘Aren’t you a God?’ Ryuk sniggers from somewhere above him.

‘You’re like me Light. You’re not even human’

He is barely hidden behind the pillars of the underpass. It’s drizzling, everything looks hazy and washed out, every sound muffled by the constant thrum of the raindrops hitting the water. He’s aware of the cold seeping through his soaked socks but everything else is dull except for the steady pulse of something inside him pulling all his senses to attention.

He can barely see anything but the blurred afterimages of the girls legs thrashing as she was held down and her voice muffled by the man crouching beside her on the muddy ground.

Ryuk is deathly still behind him, curious of what he’ll do next.

‘Let’s go Ryuk’ he says.

There’s a small tug on his sleeve and Light lifts his eyes from the book he was poring over to see Sayu with her arms laden with mathematics textbooks.

‘Do we need all of these? Can’t we take just one?’ she pleads.

‘No we are taking all of them and you will finish all of the worksheets in them by the end of this month’

‘No way!’

Light smirks.

The bookstore is packed with students today. Light regrets choosing to come here right before exam season but Sayu really needs the extra help with maths. She follows him to the cash counter and drops the heavy textbooks on the counter with an angry huff.

‘Do you want anything else?’ Light asks, bringing out his wallet.

‘Like what? Ice cream? No thanks’ she pouts.

‘I meant books Sayu’ Light teases, rolling his eyes at her.

She doesn’t respond and makes a sullen face while the cashier packs their books in a bag.

Light remembers in flashes. He isn’t sure if they’re memories anymore, each one is new to him, but they all seem so real.

‘He hasn’t deviated from the pattern in two days’ Light whispers to Ryuk while covering his mouth with his handerkerchief. The train is usually not crowded at this of the day, but there are quite a few people in this car with him.

Details are important.

‘It starts the same way every day. He sleeps in till noon, then goes out to buy a couple of beers from the vending machine outside the seven-eleven in 1-chome. While he returns, he takes the shortcut through the shrine, he hovers outside for a while, like he is afraid to go inside.’

Ryuk laughs at that. Death Gods have a sense of humor.

‘He takes a detour while returning home. There’s a woman who lives alone in that apartment we passed by earlier today. She works till late and isn’t at home till the evening He knows how to get in and returns home after taking some trophies from her knickers drawer’

‘..and your sister doesn’t know all this about him’ Ryuk smirks.

‘She’s young Ryuk. It’s my job to protect her’

‘So what are we going to do?’

‘We’ll do what’s needful’ Light says, taking out the slip of paper from his pocket and writing down the name he’d found on the utility bills at the man’s house.

‘So, you have a boyfriend now. Is that why your grades are suffering’ Light tells her on the evening she asks him what it feels like to have a girlfriend.

‘It’s not like that!’ Sayu snaps back.

‘I just said it because I thought you have a girlfriend now. You never talk to me or mom anymore and you’re always in your room talking to someone.’

Light coughs.

‘You eavesdrop on me? Now that’s not very nice’

These moments they get together are so rare.

She’s right.

They hardly get a chance to talk like they used to.

Light remembers how things were when they were younger. She used to wait beside the door everyday for him to come back from school and tell her stories. He’d grow sick of it but she wouldn’t stop asking for them.

It’s good that she doesn’t know why he’s changed. She’s a simple girl. She likes those little cakes they sell at the bakery next to their cram school and she likes that drama they air at dinner time which stars that idol she likes.

‘The girls in my class all have boyfriends and they keep taunting me.’

‘So you lied to them?’ Light teases, taking a bite of the chicken they’d bought at the convenience store.

‘That’s not a very smart thing to do Sayu. Why can’t you just tell them you don’t want a boyfriend now’

She walks ahead of him, the dimming light of the evening throwing strange shadows around her.

‘I am not as smart as you are Light’

Light opens his eyes.

‘Hey’

Sayu keeps the book down and kneels beside the couch where Light lay. She puts the back of her palm on his damp forehead.

‘Your temperature has gone down a bit.’

‘What happened?’ Light asks, wincing slightly. His throat feels like it’s on fire.

‘You are running a fever and you threw up in the kitchen. I had to clean up’ she pouts.

‘I’m sorry’

‘It’s okay, you need to sleep. I called mom, she’ll be back soon’

Sayu sinks back to the floor and turns to the books she’s spread out in front of her.

‘Need any help?’ Light rasps.

‘No thank you. I don’t want to have you throw up on my notebooks’

His laughs dissolve into a sharp pain in his empty stomach.

He couldn’t complete breakfast, he remembers.

Light puts an arm over his eyes. He has sweated a damp patch through the back of his shirt, there’s a sheet underneath him that he can feel digging against his neck painfully.

‘Why is the sheet so scratchy?’

The answering voice isn’t Sayu’s.

‘We snagged them from the house of one of the guys you killed’

Light’s eyes snap open.

‘Sayu..’

Her face is a strange mixture of adoration and admiration.

‘Thank you for not telling mom and dad about him Light. I knew I could trust you.’

‘When did I go wrong?’ he asks and something in the void answers back.

When you picked up that notebook.

‘No. I was meant to create this new world. No one else had what it takes to do all this. Don’t you see the sacrifices I’ve made? I lied to my family’

But you failed.

‘How is this a failure? They are afraid to commit crimes. They are afraid of God. They are afraid of me’

They are afraid of that magic notebook you are hiding under your shirt. You will die and nobody will even remember who you were. They’ll never even light a candle in your name once you’re gone.

‘Give me a chance to explain! I am not wrong’

You didn’t give them a chance Light. So why should you get one.

You were such a good child.

‘Where did I go wrong?’

Sachiko hasn’t stopped crying.

How could she be so naive?

This isn’t her fault.

This can’t be happening. He must have noticed something was off about her.

She is his sister.

‘..her homeroom teacher called me and said her classmates had spotted her with an older boy near the karoke bar’ Sachiko’s words were punctuated by sobs.

The towel she’d thrown on the coffee table in rage lay unceremoniously over Sayu’s satchel, the name of the love hotel embossed on one of the corners.

Sayu sat sprawling on the floor, bent over, her back shaking with sobs.

‘How could you shame your father like this?’ Sachiko screams at her and Sayu crumples.

Light has never seen her mom do something as even raise her voice.

She clutches at her chest, her face contorted and unrecognizable in pain.

‘This is all my fault. I didn’t raise you right’

This isn’t real. He must be dreaming again.

The collar of Sayu’s uniform is soaked through with her tears. Light reaches out to help her sit up almost unconsciously, like his body is no longer under his control.

She clutches at her sleeve in that familiar way she always does when she needs something from him.

‘But you knew it Light. I told you. You didn’t say anything to me. I told you because I thought if I could keep your secret you could keep mine’ she says, in between hiccups.

‘What secret?’ Light asks, in a daze.

But Sachiko doesn’t let her answer.

‘Did you ruin yourself? Tell me the truth now’ she grabs Sayu’s wrist a little too hard and Sayu yelps in pain.

‘Mom please’

‘No Light, I deserve to know. Did you let him touch you? Tell me Sayu. Are you pregnant?’

Sachiko’s voice echoes in Light’s ears, his hands clammy and shaking over hers.

‘Please stop’ he pleads.

‘Tell me his name’, Sachiko yanks on Sayu’s arm again, pulling Light along with her.

‘What will your father say when everyone asks him. I wish you were never born. Look at your brother, he’d never shame us like this. He’d never do anything to hurt me and his father’ her voice is barely audible over her shaking.

‘You won’t right? ‘ Sachiko turns to him.

You’re my good boy. Mom and dad are so proud of you Light.

“You should be glad your father hasn’t committed suicide after knowing everything you’ve done” the phantom voice in his head is back.

Ryuk is laughing at the corner of the room.

Sayu is crying again.

He is cold, he did the right thing didn’t he?

That man was a monster. He hurt that girl. He had to be stopped.

“You could have called the cops Light. You could have helped that girl. But you walked away.”

You ruined Sayu’s life.

‘I protected her from him’ he says.

By killing him? You knew. But you didn’t stop her.

‘I knew?’

Details.

Think about the details, the details are important aren’t they?

He’d seen the man outside Sayu’s cram school once, and if he tries to remember he’ll recall the man smiling at her, and her smiling back. She told you she has fallen in love.

‘No she didn’t! I don’t remember’

You weren’t paying attention.

‘I had important things to do. I am a God.’

Gods don’t have time to think about their baby sister.

‘If you’ll keep my secret Light, I’ll keep yours’

She knows what you are.

‘So everything was a dream? That’s ridiculous. I was expecting at least a tearful epiphany’ Light says to the hideous thing, now floating upside down over his bed.

‘That was a terrible story’, he says.

‘I never said it was a story’ the hideous thing laughs at him in the way things from nightmares do.

Someone slaps his face hard enough to jerk him awake. Light wakes up with his heart threatening to burst out his rib cage, harsh hands force him down as the fever burns through his veins.

‘Let him go’ the voice commands over the intercom.

When his breathing softens into something he can control, Light sits up on his cot.

Three men in face masks, one of them in a doctor’s white coat.

‘Where am I?’

‘You’re home.’ L’s voice through the intercom makes him jump.

‘Drink some water’ the man in the doctor’s coat points to the pitcher of water set on the floor next to his cot. Light recognizes his voice as the one from his dream.

‘Where is Sayu?’ Light asks.

The men turn to leave.

‘You were running a fever for the last two days. We couldn’t have our prisoner die on us. The Tribunal wouldn’t like it’

‘Please, where is she?’

‘..We can’t have them think you killed yourself’

‘I need to see her once. Please L’ he is desperate for an answer, the tears won’t stop.

‘We can’t grant any requests to prisoners Light.’

‘Does she know about me?’

The intercom goes silent.

‘Not yet. She thinks you’re still assisting with the case.’ L says.

‘But she will, soon.’

The fever goes away completely in another day and takes with it the remains of any doubt there was in Light’s mind of his innocence.

He remains as scathing as ever when he opens his mouth to argue back when disturbed, but while he used to doze in an apathetic haze for most of the day before he got sick, nowadays he simply sits till with his legs crossed and eyes closed, like he is meditating.

‘You aren’t one to entertain me with stories Ryuzaki, what is with this civility?’

‘Prison life is wearing you for the worse’ L says over the intercom again. There’s no knowing if he even is in this building or if he’s sipping tea in front of his laptop several continents away.

‘…So this man you encountered in the Gulf, you say he had considerable influence in the area and yet refused to cooperate with you in order to save the civilians trapped in the burning building just because he thought they were a lower class?’

‘Religion and war makes one do strange things Light. I think you’ll agree’

Light smirks.

‘You are comparing me to a fanatic.’

‘That’s the kind of legacy some choose’

‘So tell me then Ryuzaki, what did you do to teach this bigot a lesson.’

‘Did you have Watari shoot him right here?’ Light points to his forehead marking the very place his father had once tried to sink a bullet in.

The handcuffs clink against each other when Light lets his hand fall.

‘You certainly have a flair for the dramatics, but no. I didn’t have to waste my time on him’

‘He died helpless and alone on the streets begging for someone to help him’

Light smirks.

‘Is that what you want for me, then?’

‘We’ll see about that. The tribunal should expedite the trial. This is the largest case of mass murder in history after all. They need to set an example’

‘Only a matter of time then’

The hideous thing laughs from its vantage point.

‘Now, Light. You’ll be the best story I’ve ever told.’

#fanfiction #submission #Light Yagami #TIHID #veeraha #yagamiraitokun #Sayu Yagami #pairing: gen #ratings: teen #Sachiko Yagami #Light's Birthday Extravaganza 2017

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dulcidyne · 7 years

Text

Escape Velocity (707/Saeyoung Choi x MC)

Fandom: Mystic Messenger. Summary: He woke up on the wrong side of the multiverse somehow, traveled through planes of spacetime in a wormhole wink to wake up in a universe where he doesn’t belong--a universe where everything is comically, disastrously wrong. Word count: 2510

[Angst/Hurt/Comfort. SFW. 707 route spoilers. After ending spoilers.]

A slice of city skyline slips through the blinds, striping diffuse streetlight glow across the face of a boy just emerging into consciousness. It’s the first thing he sees when his eyelid flutters open--the amber flare of sodium vapor in blue dim--and he winces when the brightness drives a cold scalpel-edge of pain directly into his optic nerve.

“Oh--” another voice says, half swallowed by his reflexive hiss, but distinctively feminine. By the bed, an ECG readout shows the stuttering thump of his heart with a jagged green spike. Despite the pain and the worried chirp of the machines hooked into him, he has to bite back his laugh. It lingers in his mouth like a morphine lollipop, giddy and sweet enough to make his head spin. She never ever listens.

“You’re still here? I’m starting to think you really do just like that chair,” he chides.

But when he opens his eyes again, the concerned face that comes into view stops the rest of his lecture short. It’s not meant for her and he’s not sure if he’s relieved or dejected. Happiness evaporates off his tongue.

“Luc...Saeyoung. It’s--well, I’m sure I’m not who you expected to see...”

Jaehee tucks mussed hair back behind her ears but the effort does little to restore her back to factory standard. She’s as human as he’s ever seen her with her wrinkled dress shirt and her finger-combed hair sticking out in wild wisps. He spots her suit jacket discarded over the back of the chair like an afterthought. On anyone else, disheveled at this hour is nothing extraordinary. But Jaehee doesn’t spend her nights with her nose in a bottle of soju, hand wrapped around a karaoke mic. She doesn’t stumble home after shouting her goodbyes across the street to her coworkers, tottering heels tapping off-tempo staccato onto the pavement. On Jae Hee, disheveled is fundamentally wrong. A negative where a positive should be. An antiparticle. Anti-Jaehee.

The machine beeps come faster and louder. Any second now, this crumpled, grief-smudged doppelganger is going to collide on a molecule of sensible, unflappable Jaehee reality and annihilate everything.

Hospital air, reeking of antiseptic and IV drip, barrels into the room with a rush of dimmed fluorescent light from the hall and he looks up to see Jumin take a pause, hand still on the door handle.

“You’re awake then.”

He offers a perfunctory nod and enters the room without another word. In one hand, there’s a styrofoam cup with a cloud of steam condensing off the top but he makes no move to drink it, set it down, or pass it to his exhausted assistant. Styrofoam. Nothing Jumin owns is designed to be disposable. Not his diamond-inlaid pens, not his porcelain dinner plates, not his silver-plated dress collar stays. His world exists outside of plastic shrink-wrapped convenience. In a corporate heir’s world, things gleam and glow forever.

It’s like a game in a kid’s magazine--the half educational, half distraction ones they stock in the hospital waiting rooms. Circle the thing that doesn’t belong: tailored three-piece Ermani suit, Verragamo tie, sterling silver tie pin, and one disposable cup. If Saeyoung had a pen (just a regular, chewed-up Bik), he’d circle the air around the cup over and over, pressing harder and harder until the cheap nib tore through the page.

“Did you bring that for me?” Saeyoung settles back into the pillows and directs the question up at the ceiling in wonderment that he only has to partially feign. “Oh my, Mr. Chairman-to-be’s tender, caregiving side...”

The cup still niggles at the corner of his eye like a jittering artifact spliced into reality through clumsy video editing. He grins a 707 grin as if nothing in the world can ever bother him and sits up to look at Jumin.

“Oh! Is this what it feels like to be Elly?”

He preens as best he can with one arm hooked to IVs and machines and the other wrapped in layers of gauze. Tubing clatters. He pays it no mind. “Nya~ong. But Mr. Caregiver, do you mind switching out whatever that is for a-”

“It’s not for you.” Jumin interrupts, lips compressed down as if he’d like to say more but thinks better of it.

“Saeyoung, you’re feeling better then...” Jaehee says before her eyes meet Jumin’s across the room. A whole conversation scrolls in the empty space between them. They don’t have to take out their phones and type it up in the RFA messenger for him to know that it’s about him. And. That. It’s. Serious.

Saeyoung taps the pulse oximeter clipped to his index finger against the bed rail as if it were a mouse button and a steady, reassuring clicks fill in the gaps between the machine beeps.

“I am. Nearly 100% better. Maybe 99.00001% better. All I need for that last .99999% is a Ph.D Pepper, and some Honey Buddha Chips,” he counts each off with a tap of his fingertip, “and a Miss Cutie body pillow and matching limited edition collector’s blanket, a Zet Box and a Grey station for when I get frustrated with the Zet Box and a widescreen TV. I think then, I’d feel totally, completely, 100% better.”

His eyes sweep the room until he spots the red of his phone case on the nightstand. Should he call her and see if she got to the apartment safely? Or...would he just be interrupting the first real night of sleep she’s had in days? A restless ache catches him in the ribs. All his nagging for her to go rest at home and the second he wakes up to find someone else in her chair, the whole universe feels off-kilter.

“You…” Jaehee starts then stops, concern in every weary line around her eyes and a frown that says this is hardly the time for jokes. “You do remember, don’t you? What we told you before...”

She’s so serious. He laughs. “Why are you looking like that? Is this a drama?”

Saeyoung pauses for effect, taking a moment to compose his expression into something more drama-worthy--with little success, he keeps laughing despite himself. “Do I…have amnesia? Have I swapped bodies? Am I actually an alien from another planet and the doctors are keeping me for testing? Do I have cancer?”

Anti-Jaehee does a spot-on impression of regular Jaehee exasperation for anything nonsensical. Jumin holds the cup that isn’t for anyone in the room and does a spot-on impression of a man in the middle of a board meeting.

Unlike Jaehee, hospital despair hasn’t left a single visible mark on Jumin. If anything, he’s too Jumin...too business as usual. It’s as if something has distilled him down into a condensed cocktail of emotional detachment, wealth, and cat obsession and poured him back into his suit. But the focused intensity of him is hyperrealistic to the point of artificial.

“You don’t have amnesia or any of those other things,” Jumin says. “But, clearly, you are in denial.”

Matter-of-fact words clipped into precise syllables. They drop to the linoleum like a tray of needles, their metal points ricocheting. “Haha, alright. Disappointing choice, given the alternatives.” His pulse oximeter taps louder and faster and his smile is starting to hurt his cheeks so he lets it fall while he glances back at the phone. Softly, he asks, “What were the writers thinking with this script?”

“You’re being tiresome,” Jumin informs him, his free fingertips pressed against his temple. “I have a headache and there was no wine in the hospital cafeteria due to some strange oversight. I intend to inquire--”

Anti-Jaehee cuts to the point. “V’s death is a shock to all of us. I know you weren’t on the best of terms in the end but that doesn’t...it doesn’t erase years of friendship. You don’t seem to be taking the news seriously...to be making jokes right now--”

V’s death.

His head is shaking, a bubble of suppressed laughter expanding in his lungs. V’s death--that’s just...impossible. Ridiculous. It’s worse than the wrinkled shirt and the styrofoam cup and the wrong person in the chair by the bed. He really should’ve caught on earlier. It’s not like him to be so slow on the uptake. Some genius he is. The bubble in his chest pops against his sternum with one long, shuddering exhale that warps his laughter until it sounds breathy and helpless. V’s death. Anti-Jaehee. The cup. The chair.

He woke up on the wrong side of the multiverse somehow, traveled through planes of spacetime in a wormhole wink to wake up in a universe where he doesn’t belong; a universe where everything is comically, disastrously wrong.

A shiver in his chest maps cold in his veins like contrast dye and numb follows. It isn’t the ‘count backward from 10’ and wake up to find the girl he loves asleep in the chair beside his bed, her hands wrapped around his kind of numb . This numb is frostbite and flash freeze, it’s the cold and shadowed gaps of space where starlight cannot reach.

“Saeyoung. Saeyoung, are you even listening?”

V’s death. Anti-Jaehee. The cup. The chair. He’s still laughing--shallow, gasping chuckles. Above him, the ceiling panels are starting a slow, teetering revolution around an invisible axis.

“No. Why would I? I’m not staying here. I don’t even belong here.”

“What are you even saying? You’re not staying here? In the hospital?”

His head shakes even though, technically she isn’t far off. “In this universe.”

Watching the ceiling makes him dizzy. Saeyoung screws his eyes shut and brings his fingertips down hard on his eyelids. Static pinwheels up from black, rippling like space dust caught in a gust of solar wind. Even with his eyes closed, he can still sense the orbiting room pick up speed. Or maybe he’s the one moving. For some reason, he thinks of the ‘black hole’ donation funnel at the National Science Museum planetarium. He thinks of wobbly coins accelerating away from the flared rim, faster and surer until they’re nothing but a flickering line of zinc curving around the vortex. This universe is wrong. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t want to stay here.

Space dust is accumulating beneath his shut eyelids but he doesn’t dare open his eyes to blink out the grit and the moisture wicking up his eyelashes. V isn’t dead. He isn’t shelved away in a metal drawer in the hospital morgue with a bullet lodged in his chest. V is a liar and a traitor but he’s alive.

An image flashes up before he can stop it, some hypoxia-addled memory. It’s ice cream running cold rivulets over his knuckles--blue, too bright to be anything less than artificial, staining and sticky, turning his hands and tongue a different color. Rika’s laughter echoes up into the museum archways.

“Luciel--here, just use my handkerchief first.”

There’s a borrowed ₩10 coin in his hand, still warm from V’s pocket and sticky from his own hands. He’s laughing too. It doesn’t feel like a goodbye even though it is. Now that he’s with the agency, who knows when he can sneak out to see Rika and V again.

There’s no air left in his lungs and they’re burning, the moisture is evaporating off them and flash-freezing in his chest. He’s floating, spinning in the vacuum of space and he can’t--he can’t--

He can’t breathe.

Metal coins sucked into the dark. Black holes made out of plastic. He’s orbiting around the funnel rim, pulled towards the gravity well, forces shearing him away ten won at a time to slip through bubbles in quantum foam and appear on the other side of the multiverse.

Something wraps around his fingertips and jerks his hand away from his face. Without the pressure of his fingertips, his eyes open by reflex.

She’s there, bangs mussed, cheeks flushed, chin obscured by the thick red wool plait of her scarf. Undeniably real. Undeniably right. Amber flecks in her eyes glimmer brightly through a sheen of unshed tears like constellations in gold leaf and he wishes he could spend the entire night, lying on his back, gazing up and counting each beautiful fleck. He wishes he could feel the warmth of her hand. He wishes he could banish the tears welling up in her eyes and see her smile. But his wishes are truncated and flat, severed away from feeling and emotion so that they exist more in the realm of abstract theory right along with Petri nets, Chomsky hierarchy, and finite automata.

“Stay. In this universe. Stay here with me.” She’s right in front of him but she sounds far away--a signal with spotty quality beamed from another orbit. He can barely hear her over the static crackle of interference and when he finally does, the message has an odd, aged quality to it as if time is dilating in the centimeters between them and the words are already centuries old by the time they reach him.

Stay. He can’t. It’s too late. Whatever tethered him to her world has already snapped and now he’s just drifting and disconnected, ephemeral and insubstantial in between universes, there and not there at the same time. Schrodinger’s Saeyoung.

Tears spill up, curving down her cheekbones but she makes no move to duck her head or wipe them away. She doesn’t take her eyes off him and he can’t pull his away from hers even though she’s asking the impossible. Instead, his numb fingers tighten around her hand until he can almost feel it--almost.

She grants half a wish right there and smiles despite the tears still coursing freely to drip off the delicate curve of her jaw. If he could stay for anything, it would be that smile. Breaking eye contact, she examines the loose fringe of her scarf before finding a trailing red thread that she pulls away with her free hand.

Somehow managing not to release his hand, she winds it clumsily around his index finger and gives it a gentle tug to make sure it will stay put. It does. She meets his eyes again.

“You do belong here, for better or worse,” she tells him and this time the words are perfectly clear. Fragments of glowing city skyline dance a dozen brilliant colors in her eyes. “But if you have to leave for a bit, I’ll just make sure you can find your way back.”

She tugs the thread again. “Astronauts always have safety tethers right? This can be yours.”

Something lights across her face and she yanks free another thread from her scarf to tie it around another finger.

“And another one for Saeran. You belong with both of us, so you need two.”

There’s grief bitter bright in her eyes but hope too. He looks down at their clasped hands, at the red threads entangled around his fingers, and feels an echo of the emotion in her eyes fissure up from the dark, numb hollows of his heart. Grief, but hope too.

Her hand is warm.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #707 x MC #Saeyoung choi #mysme fanfic #707 route spoilers #Angst #ANGST I SAY!#Grief and loss #Red string of fate

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