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withacapitalp · 1 year

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Daisies

Read it on ao3 instead

Eddie was never a deep sleeper. Years of living in cars and on couches taught him to always have an ear out. Always be able to wake up in an instant, always be alert, ready to fight whoever might be coming at you. Living with Wayne helped to ease that compulsion a bit, but in general, Eddie was never truly fully relaxed when he slept. Everything that had happened over Spring Break hadn’t helped matters in the slightest.

So he was awake the second Steve started to choke.

He was so quick that Steve was still asleep, curled up on his side in the absolutely adorable way that usually made Eddie smile. There was no smile tonight, just an anxious little whimper and a boy frozen in fear, because his partner was choking on nothing and not waking up.

“Steve?” Eddie whispered, reaching out with a shaking hand and touching Steve’s shoulder. “Baby?”

Steve continued to gasp, his chest heaving in a strange and awful way as he tried and failed to breathe. Eddie was about to do something more, anything to make him stop, when Steve’s eyes opened. He was the picture of panic for all of two seconds, before he was sitting up, roughly coughing.

He hacked out a few more harsh sounding noises, before he spat into his open palm, taking a relieved breath as whatever was lodged in his throat came out. Eddie would’ve been relieved too, confused, but okay now that Steve was safe.

And then he saw what was in Steve’s hand.

A daisy. Steve had just coughed up a fucking daisy. And, judging by the completely blasé expression he had on his face as he looked down at it, this wasn’t the first time.

What the fuck?

Eddie had seen Hanahaki before, just once. Some girl in middle school had fallen in love with a dumb jock, a classic move that had felt like a cliche to him at the time. When the jerk rejected her in front of everyone, she had collapsed to her knees in the middle of the cafeteria, spitting out thorny roses till she passed out.

She lived, but just barely, and had gotten the surgery to remove the roses wrapped around her lungs. By the next week she was happy as a clam, living without a single memory of the incident that had left the rest of the school in total shock.

Seeing it now gave Eddie the same exact feelings he had all those years ago. A deep sense of discomfort from encroaching on something that incredibly intimate, an odd mix of revulsion and jealousy, and a deep seated wish to be anywhere but where he was at this moment.

It was even worse now that it was Steve.

His boyfriend slid out of bed, quietly padding over to the ensuite without even so much as a glance Eddie’s way, leaving behind the flower. Steve didn’t shut the door all the way, so Eddie could hear him cough a few more times. As he did, Eddie picked up the daisy, examining it.

It was just a regular daisy, white as snow except for a few spots of blood sitting innocently on its petals. Nothing special about it, nothing significant. Apart from the fact that it was Steve’s daisy.

Steve’s daisy for someone that wasn’t him.

“Who?” Eddie asked when Steve came back into view looking utterly exhausted. His voice was flat, lacking any of the emotion he usually had. It was like someone had torn his heart out, and now he was just hollow, hollow, hollow.

Steve hummed in confusion, quirking his head to the side as he leaned his entire body against the doorway, blinking slowly.

“Who is it?” Eddie clarified, holding up the daisy. Any trace of sleepiness vanished from Steve’s features. He stood up painfully straight, even took a step back, like Eddie had screamed instead of whispered.

“I’m not mad,” Eddie rushed to say, trying to calm Steve’s quiet panic. He wasn’t mad, his heart was just shattering, falling to pieces on the floor between them. Was that better? “I…I just want to know.”

He didn’t just want to, he had to. He had to know who had stolen Steve’s heart, or if it had ever been his to claim in the first place. Had Steve had the daisies the entire time? Was he just humoring Eddie anytime he said he loved him? Eddie didn’t want to think that Steve had entered into their relationship out of pity, or some sense of obligation, but any and all confidence Eddie had previously had flew out the window the second that daisy had appeared.

Were they from Nancy?

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Steve muttered, avoiding eye contact as he played with a loose thread on his pajama pants.

He looked oddly vulnerable there, half dressed and making himself smaller than he was, hiding in the doorway instead of curling up in Eddie’s arms where he belonged. On any other night, Eddie would coax him to bed with promises and teasing little jabs that made him both laugh.

But not tonight. Tonight there were daisies in the bathroom sink and one in Eddie’s hand ruining everything they had built.

“I deserve to know when my own boyfriend is in love with someone else,” Eddie hissed, harsher than he meant to. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, and fuck, maybe he was mad. Not really at Steve, but at the world. The chaotic black universe that they lived in, whatever awful god lived out in the cosmos that had chosen to damn him specifically.

Whatever deity existed that loved to give Eddie good things and snatch them away the second he got comfortable.

“They aren’t- I’m not in love with someone else,” Steve protested weakly, still looking anywhere but at Eddie.

Eddie scoffed, holding up the daisy between them, pinching it in between his thumb and forefinger like it was something exceptionally disgusting to hold. He had the rabid urge to tear the flower to shreds, destroy it before it could destroy everything they had.

“It’s not like that,” Steve insisted stubbornly, finally looking up at Eddie with fiery eyes. He went to keep going but the determination disappeared and an odd expression overtook Steve’s features. He braced himself against the door frame, bringing one hand up to his mouth as another bout of coughing overtook him.

Eddie watched Steve struggle, losing any of the merciless rage that had been rushing through his veins as he watched the love of his life attempt to take a breath. When Steve slid slowly to the floor, Eddie was there, kneeling beside him with a soft hand on his shoulder.

“What can I do? Do you need me to call someone? You need a hospital, don’t you? This is serious, and you can’t breathe. Should I start doing CPR or the Heimlich or-” Eddie cut himself off with a jolt, biting his tongue to stop any more panicked rambles from escaping.

He was spending way too much time around Robin.

Steve shook his head, still coughing. Two more daisies tumbled out into his hand before he dragged a long breath in, letting his head tip back and hit against the jamb.

“I took my meds,” Steve whispered, his voice ragged and painful sounding, “It’ll clear up. I just have to get out any ones that actually sprouted. It’s not dangerous, it just hurts.”

He said it so plainly, in such a Steve way. Like it didn’t matter at all that it hurt, or that it seemed pretty goddamn scary to choke on daisies on the regular.

Despite everything that was happening, Eddie let out a soft little incredulous laugh, reaching over and kissing Steve’s forehead. It was probably a strange thing to do, all things considered, but Steve was smiling now, giving Eddie a starry eyed look that made it all inexplicably feel okay.

“How long have you- why not just get the surgery?” Eddie asked, reaching out and grabbing the hand that wasn’t currently full of daisy blossoms, “It’s way safer-“

“No,” Steve said, soft, but firm. He carefully placed the blooms down next to them, toying with the petals before squeezing Eddie’s fingers and rubbing the column of his throat, his eyes far far away. “I won’t.”

Won’t. Not can’t. Steve would not do it, which meant whoever they were for mattered to him. Hanahaki surgery was one hundred percent- not only did it get rid of the flowers, but the emotions that had caused them in the first place. You never remembered the person who had made them grow.

Eddie quickly ran through their friends, all of the people in Steve’s life. He could only think of one person who Steve could be in love with, one person who didn’t love him back. At least, not the way Steve probably wanted her to.

“Nancy,” Eddie stated rather than asked, already knowing the answer. Steve still loving Nancy wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Nancy had made it clear that she didn’t love Steve like that, and they had both moved on. Maybe Steve could still love Eddie part of the way like this, maybe that could be enough. Having a bit of Steve’s heart was better than none at all.

But Steve shook his head, still fiddling with the petals of his daisies.

“I told you, it’s not like that,” Steve whispered, looking utterly miserable. He coughed half-heartedly, but no flowers emerged. When Steve was done he sighed, closing his eyes and worrying his lip the way he always did when he was trying to keep his emotions steady.

Eddie was missing something. Something obvious. It should have been a big glaring neon sign right in front of him with the most basic answer in the world. But try as he might, he still couldn’t see who the daisies would be for if not Nancy.

Who else could Steve love that didn’t love him back?

He should stop asking. This wasn’t the time. His boyfriend was in pain in every way, and Steve didn’t need to be interrogated. They had all the time in the world, Eddie needed to just drop it. Steve would tell him, eventually. He always did. Getting secrets from Steve took a long time, but he always gave in at some point. Eddie just had to be patient, and kind, and everything Steve was so good at.

“Then what’s it like?” Eddie asked anyway, his curiosity overtaking the selfless part of him that was cursing his own name.

Steve contemplated his answer for a long time, spitting up another daisy before he finally began to speak.

“When I was in third grade, our teacher had us raise caterpillars into butterflies to teach us about life cycles. Did you ever do that?”

“No,” Eddie immediately replied, confused and slightly irritated by the sudden change of path. What did butterflies have to do with Steve’s love life?

“We should do it together. It was fun,” Steve said, a wistful little smile on his face as he stared out in the distance, “Everyone got their own glass jar with twigs and leaves and all that, and one little green caterpillar. We could name them whatever we wanted, and Miss Katie would put their name on the jar so we would know who’s was who’s. I named mine Beatrix after the woman who wrote my favorite story.”

None of this mattered. Was Steve trying to distract him? It wasn’t usually the way he did things, but Eddie had also never expected he was hiding something like this.

“Wh-“

“Eventually she became a butterfly,” Steve continued, steamrolling past Eddie’s attempt at asking what the hell was going on. He was speaking, and he wouldn’t let himself be interrupted. Eddie settled back, trying to hide how annoyed he was.

“Beatrix was a monarch. She was so pretty, Eddie, I wanted to keep her forever. But Miss Katie said we had to let them go, or they would die. So we all brought our jars home, to let them free with our parents.” Steve was forced to stop here, another vicious round of choking producing three daisies, all bloodied. He placed them in a row with the other three, all six staring up accusingly at Eddie, like he was the reason they had appeared.

But he wasn’t. That was the whole problem.

“I knew exactly what I was going to do. There was this patch of daisies at the end of our garden. My mom had planted them when she and my dad first got married, and they were her favorite flowers. I thought she would like to let Beatrix live there, so we could see her till she flew away.” Steve explained.

Eddie had seen the daisies before. The garden itself was mostly gone by now, just empty plots of dirt with chicken wire around them, but the daisies were still there. They had lasted almost till November, pretty drops of white that stubbornly bloomed for as long as they could.

They looked just like the flowers Steve was coughing up.

A dark pit started to form in Eddie’s stomach as he took in the implications, the dots beginning to form a macabre picture that made him wish he had listened to his better instincts before. He shouldn’t have asked, he shouldn’t have pressed, Steve should have told him this story when he was ready.

But…maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Maybe Steve would have carried this alone forever.

“When I got home my parents were already gone. They had something they had to do, I can’t even remember what it was. The sitter was supposed to get there in an hour, but I was by myself. Just me and my butterfly,” Steve cut himself off with a single laugh that sounded more like a gasped out sob, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is so stupid.”

“No,” Eddie said firmly, holding Steve’s hand in a death grip, reaching out and taking the other one too just for good measure, pulling it away from his face so he couldn’t hurt himself, “it isn’t.”

Steve gave him a millisecond long smile, instantly going back to the somber mask he was wearing before.

“I wasn’t supposed to play outside if my parents weren’t home, but why should I listen? They weren’t here. They left again. My mom left again. She never used to leave before that year, but it felt like all she did was leave then. I went outside and over to the daisies, and I sat in front of them, just… just wanting my mama. Wanting her to come back, wanting her here with me, wanting her to love the daisies again like she used to,” Steve said, ducking his head down and lowering his voice till it was almost nothing.

They both knew he didn’t just mean the daisies, but neither mentioned it.

“I can still remember it, the first one. I thought I just had to cry, but couldn’t for some reason. Then I realized I already was crying, and there was still that feeling. The one you get when your throat closes, and you can’t breathe because there’s something blocking it up,” Steve untangled from Eddie, reaching up to his throat again.

Eddie had seen him do it a thousand times. He had thought it was related to the bats, some phantom feeling of a tail still wrapped around his neck trying to strangle him. Even given a million years, Eddie never would have gotten to the truth.

“I coughed up a flower. A daisy. It looked just like the ones right in front of me. I thought I was dreaming, but then I couldn’t stop coughing. I woke up by myself in the hospital,” Steve said, finishing his story with a whisper and a bitter little smile.

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, trailing off. He had no idea what to say, how to try and help. He needed to help, needed to do something, but what could Eddie do in the face of over a decade of knowing his love for his mother was unrequited?

“I love you,” Steve said, still reassuring Eddie, because that was who he was. He cared about everyone so much more than he cared about himself, even when they didn’t deserve it. “These don’t- they’re-“

“I understand,” Eddie replied, cutting Steve off as he reached over and pulled his boyfriend into his arms. Steve went easily, tucking himself against Eddie’s chest as he shook with another round of coughs. “Well I don’t know if I could ever understand, but I love you, and I’m here.”

The coughs subsided, but Steve’s shoulders continued to shake. Eddie hugged him impossibly closer, laying his cheek on the top of Steve’s head and closing his eyes to block out the image of the daisies.

“I love you. I love you, and I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

#Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #stranger things 4 #st 4 #hanahaki au #platonic hanahaki au #Steve harringtons mother #steve harrington #stranger things #st #eddie munson #st4 #Writing(withacapitalW)

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kimishima-naomi · 3 years

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miçanga

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31194542 In response to Fly’s awesome fic - you don’t have to read it, but it helps with the context.

Content warning: talk of less-than-great parents, as depicted by canon. Also, mentions of trans stuff, which, if you know Fly, shouldn’t surprise you.

A headache is beating at her left temple – a soft, hot pulse compressing her skull. It's not a migraine, far from, but she still took a naproxen just in case it turns into one.

Naomi isn't sure of the time. It feels like it's past midnight, but she can't bring herself to get up from the couch and get ready for sleep. She isn't even out of her suit yet.

The living room is only lit by her laptop, an empty case file open on the screen. She avoids looking directly at it. Light feels too bright, like it always does.

It was just a meeting. A talk with a friend and a colleague. You have no reasons to be tired.

No, that's a transparent lie. Naomi prefers not to lie to herself.

You're not calling it a trigger, are you? Of course not – it's as far from a trigger as this headache is from a real migraine. Just a...

Like bumping an old scar the exact wrong way.

She grinds her teeth for a moment. Bad habit.

Shouldn't be this hard. Why...

Stiles. She wouldn't have assumed he was a surgeon if she'd met him outside of work. Anything but. Stiles was a walking disaster area, a chronically late chronically messy chronically lost... absolute prodigy with a scalpel. Naomi knew a fellow prodigy when she saw one.

Maybe even more so than you. She had to smile – Dr. Chase's stories about Derek blundering his way through exams managed to make her laugh like few things did.

Despite it all, Stiles is... level. Adjusted. Not like...

Naomi winces – not just from the headache. She has to think several times over to phrase the next statement to herself.

You can usually tell, can't you. When someone's parents are... less than stellar.

Takes one to know one, hm? Her lips move slightly, but she doesn't say the words aloud. Talking to herself has become a habit, and she wants it gone.

Or... maybe that wasn't such a surprise, after all. Hearing these stories. About what Stiles used to be like – chronically... unsure of himself, unable to believe he could get anything right.

That was telling.

Self-doubt is the mind killer for a surgeon. Hell, on some level, Naomi was surprised Derek became one, after all. The man must've truly been determined. An iron will, buried... deep inside. Quite deep.

She rolls her shoulders – straightening out mechanically, getting rid of the slouch she didn't know was there, taking a mandatory post-surgery deep breath.

...Her own family wasn't nearly that bad, of course. They just didn't care. That was fine by her – she'd seen otherwise in medical school, of course; classmates driven to near-suicide by pressure, weight of their medical clans on their shoulders-

Maybe that's why she coped differently. Grit her teeth, soldiered on, forged herself as if into a scalpel. Forged herself into somebody, seeking... not mere attention, of course; admiration, respect she knew she deserved.

You used to think it'd be better if they cared. Better to get a beating for a bad grade than know they don't care if you even attend school, right?

Naomi winces again. That, again, isn't truth. Not quite – if she ever did think that, well, that was in early childhood.

Her family didn't do anything all that bad. Except not acknowledging her existence after... that... happened.

Not like they acknowledged it before.

She chuckles softly, admitting the humor of that. No, they didn't.

She never went back to Japan.

All right, enough self-pity. This isn't about her, it's about Derek. And he got one rotten deal today.

Mother's Day, hm? Explains all the diabetes-inducing posts across her feed, despite her social networks being purely for work.

Frowning at the light, she checks her laptop. Second Sunday in May. That minutely annoys her – Thanksgiving and Easter are hard enough to remember.

Stiles... She doesn't ever guess at what Stiles was like before transitioning. Nor does she want to guess – the mere thought would feel invasive like a burrowing parasite.

But, whatever he was like in the past, he seems much better off now. Good.

She rubs her temple – it does nothing for the headache, but the bracelet catches unfamiliar on her wrist. She hasn't worn those in a long time, bracelets or rings, strictly forbidden by sterility rules.

Alyssa's gift. A handmade... misanga – she's sure that's Portuguese... friendship bracelet? It's a pretty one, shades of red and white – she knows that Alyssa knows she likes these colors.

It means the world to her. Who'd have thought.

She's still uneasy – a shard of some thought is lodged deep and painful like a splinter, something that angered her so much at the time that-

Ah.

Gently, Naomi undoes the fastener on the bracelet and rests it down on the keyboard. She's afraid she might break it – or anything that might get caught in her hands at this moment.

Tama. The cat's name is unusually certain in her memory.

Funny. She was never a cat person. She still isn't – Chloe, for all her softness, fuzziness, and... purr-iness, is a handful; from waking her up at four in the morning for an unscheduled portion of food (No.) to tripping her up in the middle of the night if she tries to walk somewhere without turning on the lights.

But that cat is precious to Alyssa. And that means it’s precious to Naomi, by some extraordinary, transitional property.

Besides, they both survived Rosalia. The critter was more resilient than she'd imagine.

An endoscopy on a cat... at the time, she justified it to herself by thinking about the valuable data they might get from a feline survivor. But, the truth is a lot more simple.

This is a girl who just lost her family, and this is her ‘kitty’, and you'd be right scum if you simply put it down.

Naomi rolls her shoulders again. Her fingers feel cold and heavy. The headache is worsening.

She's pretty certain she's said something about wanting to die. Thought it, certainly. Anything but knowing how much of a fuсkup she-

She stands up sharply. Those kinds of thoughts are best confronted in better lighting.

The lights turning on earn a disapproving meow. She hadn't heard the cat sneak in. Figures.

Maybe it wants to spend time with you.

That's an unusually positive thought, and Naomi forces herself to welcome it.

She sits back down, picks the bracelet up again. It flows between her fingers, coils up like a small living creature. She feels the rough weave slowly before fastening it on her wrist again.

There's no point in that, not if she's planning to get some sleep anyway, and yet it's somehow very important right now as a... symbol? No. A promise to her kid.

A promise to do better.

#trauma center #trauma team #fanfic #naomi kimishima #derek stiles

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kerikaaria · 4 years

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If I Never Met You: Chapter 25

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

Genre: (PG13) Fluff, teeny bit of angst

WC: 2.8k

Warnings: Description of a dream that includes mention of death (it’s very brief and undetailed)

Series Masterlist

Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26

I woke up to voices talking and the front door closing. Still fogged with sleep, I smiled because I felt comfortable and warm. But then I noticed that an arm was draped around my waist, and my back was pressed against a chest. I was suddenly very awake and felt heat rise to my cheeks before I gently turned my head to see Yoongi laying behind me.

It took me a moment to recall what I had said before I fell asleep, when I was only half-awake. Crap! How could I have asked that? I need to get up before someone sees this!

Just as I was about to get up, Jin walked into the room. He stepped on the bottom rung of the ladder and looked me in the eyes before smirking.

“I told you that you could use my bed, not that both of you should,” he said.

I sat up and opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

“Are they sleeping?” Taehyung asked as he walked into the room.

Jin looked at him, still smirking. “Well it seems we woke (Y/n) up but Yoongi’s still fast asleep.”

Tae looked at Yoongi’s bed, seeing it empty. “He’s not in his bed, though.” Jin tilted his head in our direction and Taehyung gasped. “You’re kidding!” He grabbed onto the end of the bed to pull himself up and take a look. “How did that happen?!”

I ignored him for now, thoroughly embarrassed, and turned my attention to Jin. “Would you mind stepping down so I can leave?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I think I’m going to stay right here. I want everyone to see this.” He smiled mischievously.

Yoongi grumbled, seeming to finally start waking up from all the noise. Even though I sat up, I hadn’t moved other than that so his arm was still around my waist. In his still mostly-asleep state he tightened his grip to try to pull me closer to him again. I fell back onto the bed from the action, and he wiggled closer to me so his chest was pressing against my back once more. If it wasn’t before, my face was definitely as red as a tomato now.

Jin had already pulled out his phone and quickly took a picture of us before I could move.

“Yoongi, wake up,” I said, sitting up. He only grumbled in response, trying to tug me back down again. I grabbed his arm to push it off of me and scooched forward on the bed towards the ladder. “Wake up, Yoongi,” I said again as I shook his leg.

“What’s wrong, noona?” he asked, a little more alert.

“Your members are home,” I replied.

He sat up quickly once I said that and looked at Jin and Taehyung through half-lidded yes, but he quickly became more alert as his cheeks flushed.

“Seokjin, could you please move?” I asked him again.

He just smiled even bigger. “Hey, guys!” he called to the others. “You should come in here and see this! Apparently I’m psychic.”

“Jin, I swear I’m going to kill you,” I said, pushing on his chest but he didn’t budge.

The others started filing into the room while Jin laughed and Taehyung stepped aside so the others would see.

“Why are you guys in the same bed?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah,” Joon said, seeming to find immense enjoyment out of this. “What were you guys up to while we were gone? And in Jin hyung’s bed of all places?”

“Namjoon!” I yelled. “No!”

Yoongi was basically malfunctioning, not moving or saying anything. Just sitting there, staring off into space.

I sighed in frustration. “Seokjin! Please move so I can get down!”

He calmed down his laughter as he finally moved aside and I hurried down the ladder. Yoongi still didn’t move.

“Did you guys have fun without us here?” Hoseok asked in a teasing tone.

“I swear if you guys insinuate that something like that happened one more time I’m going to quit my job!” I yelled back as I went to the fridge to pull out ingredients to make dinner.

Most of them had followed me back out of the room to either sit in the living room or watch what I was doing in the kitchen.

“Seriously though,” Jimin said, “why were you guys sleeping in the same bed?”

I sighed. “It wasn’t intentional. It’s just…” I paused, trying to think of the best way to put it. “I had a nightmare that involved Yoongi getting hurt and when I was going back to sleep, I had asked him to stay close to me because I needed to know he was safe. I was half-asleep when I asked him that.”

Tae hummed. “I guess that makes sense. So you guys weren’t sleeping like that every night while you were here?”

“No, of course not,” I replied. “That was the only time that happened.”

“Was it really that bad of a nightmare, noona?” Jungkook asked.

I paused what I was doing as I recalled my dream. I felt my heartrate speed up and my body shake a little at the memory. The dream had started out just like real life, how Joon and I had found Yoongi in the hotel room in pain. We took him to the hospital, but instead of it being appendicitis they diagnosed him with something much more serious (it was a dream so it wasn’t clear on what since I didn’t actually have much knowledge on diseases) and he was taken immediately for emergency surgery.

But there was a complication and he didn’t make it. I had fallen to my knees and covered my face while I sobbed and when I looked up, I was engulfed in darkness and the rest of the members, Sejin, and Bang surrounded me in a circle. They all looked at me with hatred and started blaming me, saying it was my fault and that I should have taken better care of him. I tried saying something, but they all walked away, ignoring my cries and leaving me alone in the darkness. I had curled my legs into my chest and continued sobbing. That’s when I finally managed to wake up thanks to Yoongi.

“Noona?” Taehyung had rested a hand on my shoulder and was looking at me, worried. He placed his other hand on my cheek and used his thumb to wipe away tears I hadn’t realized I shed. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I’m okay. And yes, Jungkook. It was… really bad.”

Tae pulled me into his chest and tightly held onto me. “It’s okay, you don’t need to tell us,” he said into my hair before placing a soft kiss on top of my head. “We understand.”

I relaxed into the embrace, finding comfort in his warmth before pulling away and smiling at him. “Sorry to worry you. I’m really okay, I promise. It really was just a nightmare. It just scared me a lot.”

“Sorry, noona,” Jungkook said with his head lowered. As I looked toward him, I realized the rest of the boys had gathered nearby, no doubt having seen what just happened. “I didn’t mean to make you feel upset.”

“It’s alright, Kookie,” I assured him. “You were just curious.”

Things were silent for another moment before Jin decided to lighten the mood. “On the plus side,” he said while he tapped away on his phone. “I got this wonderful picture of the two of them.” That was followed by all our phones ringing or vibrating, and I knew he sent it to our group chat.

“Kim Seokjin!” I rushed toward him, making everyone disperse throughout the apartment.

“Aw!” Jimin said. “That’s so cute! Hyung looks so comfortable!”

“Jimin,” Yoongi said. “I will not hesitate to beat you.”

“I may not have been after Namjoon hyung,” Tae said with a certain determination in his voice, “but I will definitely be next.”

“Do you guys want dinner or not?” I asked. “Because I could just go home and forget about this.”

“No, please stay!” Hoseok said, coming to hug me from behind. “We haven’t seen either of you for three days and we missed you. Please stay.”

I smiled, patting Hobi’s hands that rested on my stomach to let him know it was okay. “I guess. I kind of missed you guys too.”

“Only kind of?” Jin asked.

I pointed at him before saying, “I missed you least of all. Don’t think I’m not going to get you back for today.”

“I wasn’t the one snuggling up to Yoongi,” Jin mumbled underneath his breath.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whined. “She’ll leave if you keep teasing her.”

“We love you, noona!” Jimin said.

“You’d better,” I responded.

I continued making dinner, even with Jin’s help. I may have been acting angry, but of course he knew I was just joking around. Was I embarrassed by what happened? Absolutely. But even so I could still find the humor in the situation and soon enough we were laughing together while we cooked.

We all ate together for the first time in what felt like forever. Somewhere in between the stories they managed to accumulate from the fan signs, Yoongi chimed in.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you guys before you all left,” he said. “When noona and I were at my studio a few days ago I learned something about her.” I gave him a look to try to tell him to shut up, but he just smiled back and continued. “She actually has a bit of a talent for music.”

“Wait really?” Hobi asked, looking at me.

I chuckled nervously. “I mean I wouldn’t say it’s that much… And I’m nothing like any of you guys.”

“She plays piano and she can sing too,” Yoongi continued. “She sounded really good.”

“I knew you could sing!” Jungkook said, overly excited.

“He’s exaggerating,” I said, lowering my head.

Yoongi shook his head. “I’m not. Here, see for yourselves.” He pulled out his phone and placed it in the middle of the table.

“Oh my gosh. You didn’t,” I said.

“Of course I did,” he replied with a smirk.

I hid my face in my hands in embarrassment while the video of my performance from a few days ago played for all of them to see. I knew it would be pointless to try to keep them from seeing it because I couldn’t win against seven stubborn boys, so I just let the torture happen.

I stayed in that position even after it was done until Jin who sat next to me gave me a few firm pats on my back. “Yah, (Y/n)! I thought you said you weren’t that great,” he said. “That sounded amazing!”

“Noona, you’ve been holding out on us,” Jungkook replied. “Why would you hide something like this?”

“Like I said, I’m nothing like you guys,” I replied. My face was definitely red at this point.

“I beg to differ,” Yoongi said. “She was even interested in how to make music, so I’ve been showing her around the software and she’s learning really well.”

“Oh, are you going to start writing music, too?” Joon asked.

“I was just curious,” I replied. “But I don’t think I could do it that well.”

“Based on what I’ve seen, if you keep at it I’m sure you’ll do great,” Yoongi said with a soft smile.

“I didn’t know you had an interest in music though,” Jin said. “Why have I never heard about this?”

“Maybe because you guys are musicians and it was embarrassing for me,” I said.

“This isn’t embarrassing!” Tae said. “It’s great! And now we have more things we can talk to you about.”

“Like you had any problems finding things to talk about before,” Hobi said in a teasing tone.

It was so nice to be with all of them again. I really enjoyed the past few days with Yoongi, and I felt like we became closer because of them. But I really did miss everyone.

Soon enough, it was getting late and I urged them all to get some sleep since we’d be busy with a small concert tomorrow. I gathered my belongings and walked toward their front door to head across the hall to my own home.

“Noona, wait a moment,” I heard Yoongi say as I was about to open the door.

“What’s up?” I asked, turning around.

He looked uncharacteristically nervous, biting his lower lip as he looked down where he was fidgeting with his hands. “I wanted to um… apologize. For earlier.”

“Earlier?” I asked.

“You know,” he said. “When, um…” He moved one of his hands to the back of his head. “When we took a nap. I really didn’t… do that on purpose.”

“Oh, that,” I said, becoming embarrassed myself. “Don’t worry about it. It was my fault for insisting for you to sleep there. And it’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened with one of you guys,” I lightly laughed and smiled.

Yoongi finally looked up at me and softly smiled back.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said. “Have a good night, Yoongi.”

“You too, noona,” he said. “Oh and one more thing. I… I really enjoyed spending time with you the past few days. Thank you.” Before I could respond, he quickly turned around and shuffled toward the bedroom.

I smiled. Me too, Yoongi. Me too, I thought as I opened their door to go back to my own home.

It was a bit of a relief to be back at the dorm. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the fan meets. In fact, they all had a really nice time getting to meet their fans. But it really was weird without Yoongi or (Y/n) for the past three days. Ever since they got back home, he could hardly tear his eyes away from her, as if he was trying to make up for the time when he couldn’t see her.

Watching the video of (Y/n) playing the piano and singing was hypnotizing. Even through the screen, he could feel how much she enjoyed music. And he couldn’t think of anything he’d ever seen or heard that was more beautiful. He hoped he’d get to witness it in person one day.

When (Y/n) said that they should get to sleep soon and she’d better go, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling sad. It had been barely any time since they got to see her again, and they already had to part ways again. At least he knew she’d be going with them tomorrow, so even though they’d be working he could still have the comfort of knowing she was nearby.

After saying goodbye, he watched as she walked toward their door to leave. When Yoongi suddenly approached her, he paid close attention to hear what they were talking about. Yoongi sounded embarrassed as he fumbled out an apology about cuddling her while they slept.

He thought back to when he saw the two of them in the bed together. They all joked around about it, but he couldn’t help feeling a pang in his chest at the scene. Knowing they were alone for three days, and the fact that they were in the same bed made it hard not to automatically jump to conclusions. It was such a relief when (Y/n) explained what really happened, even though seeing her so upset over her nightmare was almost unbearable.

He wasn’t dumb, he knew what the pang he felt was. He had started to notice it earlier in the year, but he’d been doing his best to ignore it. Being friends with (Y/n) was important to him, and he wasn’t about to let whatever he was feeling get in the way of it. For all he knew, it was just temporary anyway.

But when he heard Yoongi tell (Y/n) about how much he enjoyed spending time with her and saw him hurry away with a flush covering his cheeks, he felt his stomach turn. What did he mean by that? Was there maybe something there after all? Maybe it was a good idea to just push the thoughts and feelings he had begun to have aside, in case it caused an issue between the two of them later. But that thought was quickly replaced with the idea that there was no way he could do that.

He might not have had confidence to do anything about how he was feeling now, but there was no way he’d give up that easily. Not yet. His mind was made up. He wasn’t going to push, wasn’t going to try to move forward with anything quite yet. But he had to see where this took him and he could only hope that (Y/n), their dear manager and precious friend, may eventually be able to see him the same way he did her.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep @smallbaby-cat @leitholdwithlove @ramyagovindraj @leesalts @rjsmochii

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 4 years

Note

43? Bc I want to get absolutely emotionally wrecked??

Warnings: Arguments, minor cussing, and trauma related to an accident.

This is a LONG one - 2,505 words. Buckle in guys, this is a doozy!

“Are you leaving? Even without a goodbye?” His voice cut through the silence.

He looked up, even in the dark he was gorgeous and his heart stopped, but after what was said, he had to get out. “Haven’t we said enough tonight?”

“Yes but never did I think you’d leave.” Race crossed his arms looking at Spot. “You’re just going to quit when things get hard?”

Spot’s bag dropped to the ground, the sound echoing in the hallway. “Well you accused me of cheating on you so what else is there to say?”

“Nothing. But don’t leave. Stay in the other room or the couch. Just don’t walk out. We can talk in the morning, just stay here tonight.” Race stood his ground, heart conflicted with reaching out to him or being pissed off. Currently, he was a mix of the two.

Spot swallowed, not moving. “Give me one reason I should stay and not walk out that door and be gone forever.”

The silence hung in the air. The two looked at one another - they had been together for a little over 9 months and this was their first major fight. The honeymoon period was officially over.

“One reason is because I love you, despite what you may or may not have done.” Race swallowed the knot that was in his throat. “And I know you love me. Don’t walk out that door, Spot.”

Spot sighed. “I shouldn’t give into you, Race. You hurt me and I actually don’t care what you think at the moment. I do love you but right now I can’t stay here.”

“Spot, Sean, don't leave. Where are you going to go? It’s midnight and it’s raining.” Race took two steps forward, stopping suddenly.

Holding up a hand, Spot grabbed his bag, shaking his head. “You’ve said enough, Race. I’m leaving. I’ll text you when I get to Hotshot’s.” And with that, the door creaked open, before Spot stepped out. “I do love you but I just can’t be here right now.”

The door shut with a gentle bang, leaving Race all alone in the apartment. Only then did the tears start and didn’t stop until the phone rang an hour later.

“Is this Antonio Higgins?” A nasally voice asked on the other line.

Swallowing the knot in his throat, he nodded before realizing she couldn’t see him. “Y-yes.”

“Sean Conlon was just brought into Rush Memorial Hospital’s Emergency Department and you were listed as his emergency contact.” She sighed. “You might want to get down here.”

He didn’t acknowledge her, just hung up the phone, shoved his feet into whatever shoes he could find, grabbed his keys before leaving the apartment. He took several deep breaths before getting into his car and making his way through the sleepy streets of the city.

Pulling up to the hospital, he haphazardly parked before making his way inside. He always hated hospitals, many years of being in the system and accidents. Usually Spot was by his side whenever he had anything medical done.

Walking up to the nurse’s desk, he cleared his throat, bouncing between his feet. “Can I help you?”

“I, uh, got a call about Sean Conlon.” He sighed, looking at the nurse with worried eyes.

She moved the computer mouse, checking her records. “What’s your relationship to him?”

“I’m his boyfriend and emergency contact.”

She nodded. “Okay. He’s currently in surgery. You can go up to the fifth floor waiting room. Just check in with the nurse at the front desk and she’ll let the surgeon know.”

“Do you have any indication of his injuries?” His eyes pleaded with her to give him any information.

She smiled sadly. “All the records say is internal bleeding, thus why he’s in surgery, and a broken arm. The surgeon will be able to tell you more in a bit.”

He thanked her before shuffling over to the elevators. He tapped his toes waiting. It finally came, slowly crawling to the fifth floor, every second feeling like an hour had passed. Checking in with the nurse, she directed him to the waiting room, telling him it shouldn’t be too much longer.

He fiddles with his phone, glancing up at the clock every few seconds, wishing time would pass more quickly. It was 3am so he couldn’t call any of their friends so that would have to wait.

Shitty infomercials were on the TV in the room, and even shittier magazines were laid out across the tables. Putting his head in his hands, he scolded himself. He should’ve done more to stop him from leaving the apartment. He grew up knowing that you should never drive when you’re angry. But he just let Spot leave. If the last words he would hear from Spot were that he loved him but couldn’t be around him ….. no, he couldn’t think like that. He would be groveling to get Spot’s forgiveness for a long time but he was willing to do whatever it took.

He wasn’t a religious person but he prayed to whoever was listening. “Just make sure he makes it. He’s got too much life yet to live.”

Tapping his toes, he sighed, leaning his head against the wall, eyes starting to count the number of ceiling tiles. He got to 52 before the door opened and a middle aged woman walked in, giving him a sad smile. “Antonio?”

“Yes? How is he?” Race stood quickly, giving her a look.

She motioned for him to sit, sitting across from him. “I'm Dr. Stone and I performed the surgery. He’s stable. He made it fine through surgery. He had a lot of internal bleeding from where the steering wheel hit his chest. It’s going to be touch and go for the next few hours but if he makes it through that, I would say he’ll be alright.”

Nodding, Race bit his lip. “Can I see him?”

“He’s being moved to his room now, but a nurse will come get you in a few minutes to show you to his room. We’re not expecting him to wake up until at least midday but you’re more than welcome to sit with him.” She smiled softly, standing. “Do you have any other questions?”

Race shook his head, watching her take her leave. He sighed, finally feeling a sense of relief since he got the phone call. The time, 3:45am, would be burned into his mind as he looked around the small waiting room. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he let himself calm down, not wanting to be a mess when he finally got in Spot’s room.

The door opened once more, a new nurse propping it open with her hip. “Antonio, I can take you back to Sean’s room now if you’d like.”

He stood, nodding, as he followed the nurse through the bleak colored hallway. She paused at the door and gave him a smile. “He’s sedated. Dr Stone told you that he won’t be awake until midday but you can talk to him and he’s comfortable.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled, as she left him alone outside the door. Putting his hand on the handle, he hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door.

His breath was taken away by how still Spot was in the bed. Normally he was all over the place, never stopped moving, much like himself. But the blanket was tucked under his arms, a pale white cast on his left hand, and a white bandage on his forehead.

Dropping in the seat beside the bed, Race picked up his hand and laced their fingers together. “Oh Spot.”

The anxiety, frustrations, worry, and pain had all built up to the tears spilling down his face. Laying his head on the bed beside Spot, Race cried silently as not to disturb the sleeping patient. “I’m so sorry for everything - the accusation, not doing more to keep you at the apartment, for flying off the handle - I’m just so sorry.”

More tears fell until he fell asleep, comforted by the steady beats of the heart monitor keeping tabs on Spot’s vitals.

The next thing he knew, something was touching his head. It was more of a twitch than an actual poke but his eyes flew open, quickly remembering where he had fallen asleep. The sun was just peaking through the blinds as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Starting around the room, his blue eyes landed on Spot, who was still sleeping peacefully.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes found the clock on the wall. It was 7am. He sighed again, knowing he should let the family and friends know where they were and what had happened. A text was sent in the group chat before he locked his phone, not wanting to deal with it.

Just as he went to pocket his phone, the ringtone caught his attention, a special ringtone just for her. “Hello?”

“Got your text. How are you holding up?” Kat’s quiet voice came over the phone.

He shrugged. “I’m alright. Worried. It’s my fault he’s in here.”

“Race … I doubt that.” She said, as he walked over to the window to look out.

Race sighed, leaning his head against the window. “We had a fight at midnight, I didn’t try hard enough to get him to stay and he was in the accident. My fault.”

“Bam Bam it’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself.” Kat wished she could hug him through the phone. “Do you want me to come sit with you? Do you need anything?”

He cleared his throat, glancing over at Spot’s still body. “If you want to come up, you can. I don’t need anything.”

“We’ll be up when Jack wakes. I’ll bring you some food, okay?” Her calm voice calmed him down.

Walking back to the side of the bed, he sat in the chair. “Alright, pebbles. See you later.”

“Love you Bam Bam. I’ll text when we’re heading up in case you need anything.”

“Love you too. Hey pebbles?” Race paused, thankful his sister was looking out for him. “Can you run damage control for a bit? Let the group know that he’s not really up for visitors?”

Her heart broke hearing him ask that. “Sure, I’ll let them know. Text me if you need anything.”

Dropping the phone onto the bedside table, he sighed, picking up Spot’s hand once more. He pressed a kiss to the top of his hand, before laying his head down on the bed. “Love you Spottie.”

His eyes closed, the rhythmic beeping, luring him to sleep once more.

The next time he woke up, it was the sunshine glaring through the window that woke him. The clock read 10:23. He sat up, stretching his back before looking at Spot. His face was scrunched up as if he was in pain. Grabbing his hand, Race stood over him. “Hey Spot, it’s alright buddy. You’re okay. Can you open your eyes for me?”

It took a minute but his eyes blinked a couple of times, before Race saw the warm brown eyes he had fallen in love with. “Hey, hey. You’re okay. You’re in the hospital but you’re alright.”

Race reached over and pressed the nurse’s button before running a hand through Spot’s hair. “Stay with me, Spot. That’s it.”

“What happened?” Spot asked, groggily, blinking his eyes due to the brightness.

Race pressed a kiss to his forehead, sighing. “We had a fight last night, you left the apartment and got into a car accident. You had some internal bleeding, broke your arm and did something to your forehead.”

The opening of the door caught their attention as the nurse walked in. “It’s good to see you awake, Mr. Conlon. Do you mind if I check your injuries?”

Race held back his eye roll at the stupid question - what was Spot going to say, no? Spot locked eyes with him and rolled his. “I’ll let Dr. Stone know you’re awake and she’ll be in shortly. Do you need something for the pain?”

Spot nodded his approval as the nurse pulled out a syringe and put something in his IV. She also adjusted his bed so that he was sitting up more and not flat on his back. “That should help with the pain but not put you back to sleep. Dr. Stone will be in shortly then we can get you some lunch.”

She took her leave as Race laced his fingers with Spot’s. He squeezed them before looking at Spot. “I’m sorry for the fight, accusations, all of it. I’m sorry for not stopping you from leaving the apartment. It’s my fault you’re in here.”

“Hey snookums, it’s my fault I’m in here.” Spot reached over and ran his hands through Race’s head. “I was the one driving the car, my fault, not yours. And I’m sorry for not staying. You were right, I was quitting when things got hard and I’m sorry.”

Race was quiet, processing the words Spot had said. He bit his lip. “What do we do now?”

“Let me heal and talk.” Spot squeezed their hands. “Let’s take it one day at a time and just communicate before accusations and everything gets out of hand, alright?”

Race nodded, a smile crossing his face for the first time since yesterday evening. “Sounds like a plan. I love you, Spot.”

“I love you too, Race.”

Spot looking over at him with a small smile. “Relax - everything is okay right now. We’re good, I’m about to get some food and you probably should too. Snookums?”

Race sighed, sitting back in the chair, a weight lifted from his chest. “What?”

“Why do you have two different color shoes on?” Spot chuckled, immediately reaching up to hold his side. “Shit that hurts.”

Race stood, dropping a kiss on his cheek before looking down at the blue Converse and the green Nike he was wearing. “You did just have major surgery. Of course it’s going to hurt. As for my shoes, when I got the call about you being here, I was just focused on finding shoes and getting here. I didn’t even notice they were different.”

“You’re a dork, Race but you’re my dork and I love you for it.”

Race leaned forward, putting his forehead against Spot. “Love you too Spottie. Get some rest. Kat and Jack will be up soon so if there’s anything you want, let me know and they can bring it.”

Spot’s eyes closed, a sigh escaping his mouth before he fell back asleep. Race sat down, glad that all was well for the time being and Spot would be okay.

Thanks to @thatsmycigarbutyoucanborrowit for sending in that prompt. So that was a doozy! Sorry for the emotional rollercoaster!!!

What did you think? Feedback and comments are always appreciated!!

#newsies #newsies fan fiction #writing #prompt #newsies drabble #drabble requests #drabble prompt #thatsmycigarbutyoucanborrowit #racetrack higgins #spot conlon x racetrack higgins #spot conlon

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oceanic-finn · 3 years

Photo

Task: Development

Describe your character in a few words. Funny, amazing, the best -- Finn’s words. I would say charming, friendly, loyal

What do you know about your character that they don’t know yet? Finn is 100% unaware that he’s a big doofus, and he thinks he’s an absolute catch.

What are your character’s major flaws? Generally just being a bit of an idiot, not really thinking before he acts, and being overly cautious about certain things.

What would your character give their life for? Noel, Wyatt, Mira, Briar. They’re his absolute world, and Finn would die to protect any of them. @absentialucis @wyatt-thompson @obscuritas-est-lux

What is your character’s greatest asset? His charming smile? His bluest of blue eyes? His very small ego? It would probably be how caring he is, when ti comes to any living thing, human or animal.

What would completely break your character? Noel died and he’d never felt anything like that before, like the world was collapsing in on him. The loss of someone he is so close to... no pain will ever be as bad as that.

How does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project? Finn likes to portray that he’s a ladies man, that everyone wants him when really he’s just a bit of an idiot and everyone just sort of goes, ‘Oh, it’s only Finn’

What is your character afraid of? Now don’t laugh, but he’s very very afraid of jellyfish. He’s a son of Poseidon who hates a sea creature, but absolutely no-one knows.

Where would your character fall on a politeness/rudeness scale? I’d say he’s definitely an 8 in the politeness range - he’s a nice guy after all!

If your character could choose a different identity, who would they pick? Finn wants to be Batman. Who cares if he’s real or not, he wants to ride around in the Batmobile, wear cape and speak with a really deep voice.

In what or whom is your character’s greatest faith in? His family, of course. Finn has faith in them all 100%, that no matter what happens they will always have each others back.

What was the best thing in your character’s life? His friendship with his brother, was always a massive highlight of his childhood. He always had someone to rely on, before Wyatt came around of course that was his best friend.

What was the worst thing in your character’s life? His mother. Lilith is... a challenge. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?

What is a favorite flavor or smell of your character? The sea air, the smell of seaweed, it all makes Finn feel safe and at peace.

What seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character? Finn in uncontrollable laughter “NOEL BEING STUCK IN THE TREE... THE CAT... ”

What is your character’s secret wish? To get away from Icaria, although it’s not a secret to some people. He wants to get those he cares about away from this evil place, and somewhere much safer where gods won’t appear and smite people during charity events.

What is your character’s greatest achievement? Becoming a veterinarian - people doubted him because of his party boy attitude, but he was able to pass his exams with flying colours.

What is your character’s deepest regret? Not being there when Noel died to stop it from happening, and not being there to stop Briar from being kidnapped. It makes him sick to know that these things happened, and he wasn’t there to at least try and stop it from happening.

What is your character’s deepest disappointment? Being a Thompson by name. It means he’s affiliated to Lilith and Morgana, which he’d rather not.

What is your character reluctant to tell people? That he’s terrified of jellyfish? That he’s also thirty years old and is getting past the point where he wants to be out at 3am dancing, but he’ll still do it to keep up pretences.

What is your character hiding from themselves? That he’s not 23 any more and has to slow down. He also wants to play it cool with Briar, but inside he really just wants to tell her that he loves her, and wants her to move in with him.

What makes this character angry? What calms them? People fucking with his family. Don’t do it. Just... don’t. Noel is probably the only person on the island who can calm him down when he’s that heated, because he knows him so well.

List situations in which your character would not have control over themselves. Anything happening to his family, his friends, his girlfriend or his practice. If someone challenged his intelligence as well because of his personality, that would rile him up.

How strong is your character’s emotions? Controllable? Uncontrollable? They’re quite uncontrollable at certain times, once he snaps, it’s hard for him to calm down. However, being a vet, he knows how to remain calm in stressful situations. Kinda. Well, no, actually, that’s a lie. That only works with animals and surgery. He’s a very unstable person.

What wakes your character up in the middle of the night? Briar stealing the duvet - he cannot sleep when he’s cold, he’s a bit of a moaner about it to be fair. He hates being cold when he’s sleeping. Other than that, he sleeps like a log. Someone could break in and he wouldn’t hear a thing.

Describe a recurring dream and/or nightmare. The Jellyfish nightmare? Erm, no ignore that, he doesn’t want anyone to know about that. Theres another one though. He’s a puddle that keeps being stepped in by people. He has no idea what he means, but he doesn’t like it.

Describe your character’s family. His mother is the worst mother alive, period. His siblings are the best in the world. His half siblings are great. His cousins are amazing. He’s got a great, huge family in fact - just removed the previous generation, and they’d all be better off.

Name your character’s favourite person and why. Noel. Sorry Briar, but it is. His brother is his other half, with only a short amount of time between them in age, Finn and Noel are a pair that will never be broken up. He can’t remember a time that the two have ever seriously argued, not just over something petty, or in stressful situations. He’s just his best friend.

How many friends does your character have? Finn actually has quite a few friends! He’s a personable person, likes to chat and is generally very open and friendly, so he makes friends quite easily.

How many friends does your character want? As many as he can get! In Finn’s eyes, one can never have too many friends.

How would a friend or close relative describe your character? They’d probably just sigh and be like... well, he’s just Finn, isn’t he?

Who depends on your character? Why? Do the animals in the surgery count? They aways rely on Finn to be in every day (with Noelle’s help of course because he’d be absolutely lost without her) to feed them and make them better. He likes to think that his siblings depend on him too, but he also knows that they’re very independent people. @icarialex

Who does your character most want to please? Why? Obviously Briar - he’s a little bit, teensy tiny bit older than her and wants her to think that he’s a cool guy, and not just a thirty-year old weirdo that has a younger girlfriend. There is a slight worry in his mind that she’s going to find someone closer to her age and leave him, but he also knows that won’t happen. Probably.

How does your character feel about sex? Loves it. Here for it, all day, every day. Well, most anyway. He’s got to get up early to go to work.

How does your character feel about romantic relationships? Finn loves what he has with Briar. Before realising that he was falling for her, he was all up for sleeping around for the rest of his life following his failed wedding attempt. But she changed things up, didn’t she? Made his head do a 180, and he’s fallen hard.

If your character had to live in utter seclusion, what six items would they bring? Wait, so he can’t bring Briar or his family? Then he’s not going. He has to? Ugh, fine. A collection of Agatha Christie books, his hot water bottle (don’t even think about judging), a razor (to keep his hair and beard perfect of course), a sleeping bag, his comfiest hoodie (he’ll get it back off of Briar), and a guitar. May as well learn a new skill whilst he’s stuck alone.

What is your character’s most noticeable trait and most noticeable physical feature? His eyes are pretty blue, they’re quite striking. And he’s always got a smile on his face, showing that he’s a very open person who is always ready for a chat.

How does your character feel about work? Finn loves what he does. He gets to spend all day with animals, annoying the hell out of Noelle, and making them better again - he’s an animal hero, what’s not to love!

Write one headcanon. Finn’s three favourite movies are Titanic, Armageddon and Mary Poppins. Titanic is so emotional, what’s not to love, Armageddon has Bruce Willis saving the world, and JULIE MOTHER FUCKING ANDREWS in Mary Poppins, it’s magical.

Write one additional thing about your character. He really does want to get a dog, but he’s worried about getting one because he’s seen what happens when dogs get sick, and couldn’t bear to love something and for it to get old in front of his eyes. It makes him sad.

#icaria: task

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notoriously-blonde · 5 years

Text

Depressed and Feral

Read on AO3 here. [1] [2]

In which Adrien deals with the aftermath of Desperada and the nightmares, triggers, panic attacks, PTSD and the fear of snakes/snake miraculous.

(TRIGGER WARNING! This fic has a lot of self loathing and deprecation, as well as some major depression and anxiety. Proceed with caution.

beta-d by @creepy-am-i)

Chapter 1: After the Fact.

A trumpet sounds, and a bloom of gold dust erupts from his right. It sends Adrien into a panic, and he tries to pull Ladybug back. But, before he can pull her far enough, another trumpet sounds and she turns into a cloud of that wretched gold dust.

He almost breaks down on the spot, then and there, but he pulls himself together enough to pull back the snake head. A hiss sounds through his ears, and then he’s in the sewer again, looking into Ladybug’s eyes.

“We now have five minutes, within this time range, you can go back as many times as you want. But as-“

He envelopes her in a bone crushing hug, one he’s found himself doing multiple times already. A thousand times already. 15,462 times already. 15,462 times he’s had to witness her being captured. 15,462 times he’s seen his own failure. 15,462 times he’s failed her. Suddenly, the man hole cover opens, and a trumpet sounds, and Ladybug is enveloped in a gold plume of dust.

————

Adrien wakes up with a bloodcurdling scream, covered in a cold sweat. He looks over to Plagg, and all that comes to mind is: “Perfect team huh?” Those mocking, sad eyes are looking at him with pity. He can’t handle it. Not now.

So, with a shiver, he turns around to look at his phone. Hoping that he got more than 30 minutes of sleep. 01:01 it reads, and he sighs in frustration and despair. Frustration because he can’t get enough sleep, despite being constantly tired. Despair because it hadn’t even been a minute after he fell asleep and he already had a night terror.

Shaking, he tries to pull off his covers and sheets to get to the shower to wash the sweat off, but the sheets cling to his feet and legs.

After a minute of struggling, he finally rips them off and slides to the ground on unsteady feet.

Slowly, he makes his way over to the bathroom, dutifully ignoring whatever look Plagg is sending him. Whether it be pain, pity, or sadness. He can’t look at those green eyes again. Not for a long while.

Even if the events of Desperada happened two and a half months ago.

Just the name alone sends a severe shake down his spine. He turns the water on hot and strips his clothing before slipping under the warm streams of water. He lets the water wash away his thoughts. Clear his mind of anything and everything.

Normally he would go out as Chat Noir to ease his mind. But... ever since Party Crasher...

He couldn’t even save her then... how can he save her from anything else...?

Another shiver racks his body, and he reaches a hand out to the wall to steady himself.

His eyes burn, but it’s become a normal sensation.

People say he’s just Ladybug’s sidekick, just a permanent temporary miraculous wielder that isn’t important. They’re right, after all. He only holds her back... creates problems. He can destroy anything he touches, it makes sense that he would destroy any relationship he has with anyone. His arm buckles with another shake, and he slams into the porcelain tiles. But, he can’t find it in himself to care.

His whole power set is based off of destruction and bad luck. It makes sense that all he can ever do is hurt people.

Suddenly, something flicks his left wrist, and Adrien startles badly. Everything is tuned out, and panic dominates. When feeling returns, he realizes that it was his own hand that flicked his wrist. Muscle memory gained after the multiple months of flicking the miraculous. His hand flicks his wrist again, and all Adrien can do is watch it, memories of the 25,913 times he failed flying through his memory.

After a few minutes, Adrien slowly looks up, registering the weird presence in the air.

Plagg is looking at him, those bright green eyes staring at him in pity. “Perfect team, huh?”

A sob escapes from his chapped lips, as his arms wrap around his body, curling up into a ball.

He failed. He failed her so many times. Then, Luka gets it after only a few attempts...

He isn’t suited to be a hero. To be Chat Noir. He’s supposed to be Ladybug’s partner, her protection. And he wasn’t able to do that.

He can’t even look at Luka, his blue tinted hair triggering it all to come back...

He can barely look at Plagg...

He almost can’t work with Ladybug, all the terror and memories come rushing back every time. He can’t look into those eyes that he’s confessed to. Those wonderfully supporting eyes. The eyes of the girl he's kissed so many times. The eyes that don't remember, can't remember. The eyes of the one person he was supposed to keep safe at all costs. The person he’s watched die 25, 914 times.

Slowly, he brings a shaking hand up to level with his eyes. The Black Cat Miraculous. A now white ring. The miraculous that got him here. The miraculous he wore while Aspik. The duty he ignored.

He reaches another hand to the ring, and rests unsteady fingers on the ring. He doesn’t deserve this miraculous. Slowly, he brings his gaze up from his hands and locks his gaze with Plagg. The second being he failed 25,913 times. Plagg’s eyes are wide, the usually slanted pupils are almost as wide. His mouth is slightly hanging open in shock. Adrien can’t handle it. He slides to the ground, falling into his side and curls up into the fetal position, whimpering shallowly, his hands at his chest; the miraculous still in between two fingers.

————

They’re at the zoo, spilling out of the bus. It’s a school trip everyone has been looking forward to for months. And Adrien can’t help but dread it. All he can think is: 'Please no snakes, please no snakes, please no snakes.' And, of course, because of his pent up bad luck, the snake exhibit is the first one they go to.

As they’re going, he finds his fingers sliding on his wrist, trying to find the snake head to pull back. No matter how hard he fights it, he can’t stop it. He’s come to just ignore it. To ignore the confused looks from Nino. The indecipherable looks from Marinette. He can’t even find it in himself to care that his right ring finger feels naked. Useless. Or the way the Black Cat Miraculous seems to burn a hole in his shirt pocket.

Every step they take toward the exhibit, his heart rate speeds up until he’s likely to pass out. Until he’s sweating. Until he’s absolutely sure that everyone in a five mile radius can hear it. They reach the exhibit, and his heart stops for a split second, making his vision black and his body go completely numb.

'No, no no no, nonononononononononono!' Nino bumps his arm, and Adrien flinches severely, jumping back with a cry, arms raised defensively, his right hand flicking his left wrist.

Suddenly, everyone is looking at him. Their judging stares go right to his soul, dousing his entire being in ice.

After a few seconds, everyone turns around. Though, Nino, and Marinette keep looking back in concern. Chloé in confusion, Alya with curiosity. His flicking picks up in speed. As they’re walking through, Adrien stays in the middle of the hallway, as far away from the snakes. From the memories. When everyone gets bored, because what teenager doesn’t eventually get bored from looking at snakes for more than 30 minutes, he breathes a small sigh of relief. They’re done with it. He doesn’t have to be around the creatures again.

Then, a zookeeper rounds the corner, a smile on their face. They look at all the teenagers, and their eyes twinkle.

He knows a look like that... it’s one the Ladybug has all the time.

It’s the look of a plan forming. “Do you want to hold a snake?” His cry of “No!” Is drowned out by the entire class shouting “Yes!” The scientist looks at each of them, but when his eyes fall on Adrien, his smile falters for a second, but determination quickly sets in.

Every one starts walking, and as Kim passes, he bumps his arm, whispering: “C’mon, they’re just snakes!”

The thought of seeing one, holding one, sends his heart-rate to the max, and he starts to shake uncontrollably. But, no one notices, as he in now in the back. Well, no one but the scientist. He looks at him, smiles reassuringly, then grabs his hand and pulls him toward the Open Field Enclosure.

And despite his brain not sending any signals to his feet to move, the guy drags him over to the snakes.

He has yet to see his shaking.

His mind is blank. Numb. Nothing is being sent, and nothing is being received.

In what seems like the blink of an eye, they’re at the Open Field Enclosure. And the guy is picking up a snake. A large, blue snake with yellow eyes.

Immediately, he goes numb, he’s suddenly nowhere, and nothing is being registered. Not until the guy wraps the snake around his neck and a whimper escapes his throat.

It moves against his neck, its scales sliding and expanding and constricting. It’s tongue flicks out. Then, it starts moving, down his left shoulder... A cross between a whimper and a sob is released. Then, when it’s head reaches his wrist, and the snakes tongue flicks out, touching his flicking fingers, a scream is released and then everything goes black. When he wakes up, he’s on an uncomfortable bed, in a white room.

Slowly, he sits up and paper wrinkles and crinkles under his weight. He looks around, and finds himself surrounded by pictures of animals. Beside the bed is a tray, with apples, crackers, cheese, and water on it. Where... is he in a veterinarian’s surgery room? How...? Did, did someone bring him here? He... he was at the sna-

Suddenly, the feeling of slithering scales sliding down his arm sends him into a panic attack. Shaking uncontrollably, unable to breathe.

————

When Adrien has eaten all that he could stomach, he walks out of the room to try and find the school group.

What he finds instead is a pile of multi colored snakes. The panic rises again, and he flails to get behind a door before any of them notice him. That is not the case, as apparently, he had released a loud sob. Now, on the other side of the door he has barricaded, there are a dozen snakes trying to get him.

Slowly, shakily, he slides down to the floor, sobs raking his body, breath coming is short bursts. Then, a hand touches his shoulder. And, it’s a weight he has come to know without a doubt.

It’s Ladybug’s hand, and his sobs only increase in intensity. After only a second's hesitation Ladybug wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into her shoulder. They sit there in silence as Adrien’s nerves calm down. Hesitantly, he looks up and into her eyes. She smiles and holds up a box. A black, ornate box. The sight sends his pulse into overdrive again, and he flinches. Ladybug immediately pulls back, an unreadable emotion in her eyes.

Quickly, she puts the box back into her yo-yo and pulls him into a hug again, whispering "I'm sorry, that you had to go through that whole thing and that you're still dealing with the consequences." She pulls back and gives him a warm smile, then leaves. After a few minutes of trying to regain his bearings, he realizes that if Ladybug was transformed, there was an akuma. And if there was an akuma that means that Ladybug need- would like to have Chat Noir there. And, if she had a miraculous box, that means that she got tired of waiting for Chat, and had to leave the akuma to go find a wielder.

Shakily, he brings the ring out of his shirt pocket, and holds it before his eyes. The green paw print seems to mock him. Daring him to put it on. To join Ladybug, the superhero and be “The Perfect Team.” He almost drops the ring. But, slides it on. With a small flash of green, the ring turns white and forms around his finger. And Plagg appears before him. His mouth open to say something, but Adrien doesn’t give him the time as he whippers the phrase he used to say with such pride.

The suit feels foreign. The energy and strength unwanted. The baton clunky. The tail distracting. The bell, it’s as if it weighs 50 pounds. He- he shouldn’t be wearing this. He should find someone who is can protect her better. Maybe a police officer? Just as he’s about to grab the ring, his baton lets out a ring, startling him so bad that he almost calls upon Cataclysm. He waits until it goes silent to calm down and take his baton out. The second he slides the baton open to listen to what Ladybug had to say, it rings again, and he almost drops it then and there. A shriek escaping his throat. He doesn’t want to answer. But, Ladybug can pull up the map and look at where he is. He knows she knows he’s transformed because if he wasn’t, the call wouldn’t go through. So, reluctantly, he answers.

“Chat! There you are! Where have you been?! An akuma has been attacking for the past hour!”

He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything she cuts him off.

“You know what, never mind. Are you with the akuma?”

He shakes his head. Not trusting his voice. He, she’s never really been this angry at him before... it... this is why he shouldn’t be wearing the ring. Why he shouldn’t be her par- sidekick.

Ladybug huffs. “Ugh. Okay, it’s at the zoo, and is turning anyone they see into a snake.”

At that, an involuntary shiver runs down his spine and a whimper escapes his throat.

Ladybug shoots him a confused look “Mayura’s stepped in. There’s a snake sentimonster. I need you to keep them distracted for a bit, I’m going to grab Viperion.” Then she hangs up. She needs a distraction. Always a distraction. He's always the distraction. Even when the other temps are in play. But, he supposes that's just one more thing he's good at when Chat Noir. Always distracting. Distracting the Akuma, sentimonster, the temps, Ladybug... himself.

For a second, Adrien slides back to the ground. Snake akuma. Snake sentimonster. Viperion.

He shouldn't have put on the suit. But, it’s to late now. He has to go fight them.

#miraculous ladybug #my writing #Trigger Warning

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itsreallylaterightnow · 4 years

Text

So Leave Me In The Cold (Wait Until The Snow Covers Me Up)

This is for my lovely friend Ciara (@akillerqueenyouare)! Thank you for helping me with my Febuwhump! You mean so much to me!! I hope that this can just make your day better! I couldn't have done that month of work without your incredible help! Your works have always inspired me - I have always adored reading your works, they are some of my absolute favorite Irondad works! Your talent amazes me! Keep being your awesome self!

It had been too long. Three weeks. Three weeks with Peter not with him. Tony could hardly stand to spend a day away from the kid, let alone have him ripped out from under his nose. He hadn’t done anything but search for his kid since then. May had gone back to work – grieving silently as Tony continued his obsessive search.

He had drawn in Natasha to help him, hoping she could find something in her secret circles to help him find his kid. He didn’t know much. He knew that a group of scientists had taken his kid - were experimenting on him like he was some sort of lab rat. He knew that his kid had been shot up with some type of dart, dropping to the ground in the middle of patrol with no means of fighting back before he was loaded into the back of a van and taken God knows where.

Tony was sitting at his holographic screen, flipping through every trace of the van for the millionth time when Natasha burst into the room, her usual air of coolness completely gone.

“We found him.” Tony was on his feet in seconds, following Natasha as she led the two of them to his garage. “They’re a cell of Hydra agents, focused on the buying and selling of enhanced individuals. I traced them to a chiropractic office out of Manhattan. It’ll be a thirty-minute drive. I’ll go in first, draw their attention and take out the initial guards. Be ready to come in guns-blazing when I send out the signal.” Natasha slammed the gas down on the SUV and peeled out of the tower parking deck.

“Will he still be there?” Tony asked – really praying the answer would be yes.

“I think so. From all of the research I’ve done – it’s um…” Natasha glanced over at him. “He’ll still be in the medical training stage.” She finished, looking back at the road with steel in his eyes. Tony gulped down the nausea in his throat.

“Oh God.” He whispered, his fingers twitching as he prepared himself to hold his kid once more. Three weeks. He had been missing for three weeks. How much damage could these people have done to his kind, caring kid in that time?

They slid into a parking lot and Natasha put a hand on his arm, fire burning across her face.

“Give me five minutes. I’ll buzz you in and we can get him out. I’ve got Steve, Sam, and Bucky on their way to help with the rest of the victim recovery, and a med team is in route. He’ll be okay.” Then she was gone in a flash. Tony stepped outside of the vehicle, tapping the housing unit on his chest, ready to fall into battle. Itching in his bones to hold his kids in his arms for the rest of his life.

It felt like ten years before Natasha buzzed him in, and he took off, bursting through the glass door without a care. He fired on everyone that came in to sight, not stopping for anything. He and Nat worked their way down a hidden staircase and into a long, white corridor.

Tony paused at the first door, turning to see a horrific surgery room. Blood was splattered on the floor, like a fresh surgery had just gone on. He gagged in his suit but continued down the hall.

“FRI find me Peter. Now!” He bit out.

“There is a heat signature matching Mister Parker’s body size on the last door to the left. He appears to be in extreme distress.” That was all he needed to hear. He flew forward, and in one blast the door flew off his hinges.

The sight that greeted him was one that would forever be burned into his memory.

Peter was strapped down onto a metal examiner’s table, a gel mouthpiece bit between his locked jaw. His body convulsed; eyes rolled into his head as electrodes attached to either side of his forehead emitted electric pulses into his brain. There was a single scientist watching Peter, writing notes into a notebook. He jumped back, hands raised when Tony entered the room, but one shot from his repulsors had the man thrown back into the wall behind him – unmoving.

He tapped his chest, and the suit retracted. Tony ripped the electrodes from Peter’s forehead and watched as the kid went limp.

He looked terrible. He had lost a good twenty pounds that he couldn’t afford to lose, his eyes were dark, and his hair was shaggier than Tony had ever seen it. He was in medical pants, and his chest was littered with surgical cuts and discolored skin.

“Peter, buddy, it’s me. It’s Tony.” Tony had FRIDAY send the Med crew their location as he quickly undid the leather straps that bound Peter to the table. “Alright, alright, I’ve got you.” Tony slid the mouthpiece from Peter’s lips. “Come on, Peter. Time to wake up.” Tony looked around, but he couldn’t find anything that would help him. “Okay, you can hate me for this but-” Tony took his knuckles and began to rake them over Peter’s sternum. He continued the motion until he heard a groan from the kid’s mouth.

“Peter? You with me, pal?” He watched as the kid tossed his head, whimpering silently.

“N’-pl’s- pl’s…” Peter’s voice was so quiet, but Tony knew exactly what he was saying.

“Hey, you’re safe, Peter. I’m here now.” He said. “Can you open your eyes for me?” Tony asked, wondering where the damn med team was.

Peter blinked his eyes open slowly, his face showered with terror and confusion as his eyes met Tony’s.

“Don’t. ‘m s’rry. I’ll be good.” He said, looking at Tony but not seeing him.

“Peter. I need you to look at me. I know you can look at me. It’s Tony. It’s Mister Stark. You’re safe. You’re safe.” And like a veil being torn from his eyes, the fog cleared as Peter looked up at him with a new found hope.

“Mr. Stark?” He whispered – his voice broken from too many hours of crying for help.

“Yeah, buddy. Yeah. I’m here now.” Tony pulled Peter up, tucking his kid’s head into his chest as he breathed in the knowledge that he had his kid once more. And he would never let him go again.

“Don’t leave me, please.” Peter cried, his fingers clumsily finding their way into Tony’s shirt.

“I’m never going anywhere – I’m never going anywhere ever again.”

#Tony stark #Peter parker #Natasha romanov #worried Tony stark #this is for my wonderful friend #love you big!

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

Caramel Skin Under a Vanilla Sky 41 full draft (I have no life and wrote 5.3k today.

Waking up in the pod, Lance was frozen to the bone. There was something weirdly disorienting about waking from a stint in a pod laying on your back and not falling into the arms of someone waiting. Groggy, he fought lightly against the hands pulling him up, strong arms lifting him off his feet... which felt like they weren't even there. With chattering teeth, his eyes slid shut again, awake but under protest. Being in the pod had been an endless loop of being stuck in the astral plane. Unable to escape the unending blackness, no one was there to comfort him or to tell him he hadn't died. Laid down on a bed, soft blankets were piled upon his shuddering frame, the warm arms turning into a warm body under the covers, holding him close as they rubbed his right arm. The quietness of the space began to fade, a soft hushing and gentle kisses against his hair drawing him away from sleep. Only one person would be this stupidly sweet. A soft kind of purr forming on his lips as he clumsily tried to hold him back. To reassure himself that Keith was really there. That he hadn't passed off to the astral plane and left his boyfriend alone. He hated when Keith cried. Nine times out of ten he was the reason Keith would weep, if not him then it was his boyfriend's nightmares, which usually involved him. Still shivering and shaking like a leaf, Lance slowly fell back to sleep, safe in Keith's arms. It was another few vargas before he woke again. Keith still curled into him, a leg slung over Lance's waist with his warm breath spilling across Lance's neck. Craning slightly, Lance pressed a kiss to the soft black locks that tickled his shoulder and chest "He hasn't left your side" Yawning softly, Lance looked to his mother, eyes still heavy with sleep. Rising from her chair, she tucked his fringe back on the right side "Welcome back, mijo. You gave us all a scare" It was supposed to be a routine procedure. They'd shown him video of it... His tongue felt thick and clumsy, his mouth dry. Unable to find the words, he frowned at his mother. She looked like exhaustion personified "You had a small bleed in the brain... it's all a little complicated, but you're alright. Keith has been worried sick. You were out for two week-movements" Lance's lips formed an "oh", his mother starting to fuss over the blankets covering him. They definitely weren't hospital blankets, they were to thick and fluffy, Keith had probably brought them up from the Telula. He also wasn't in a hospital bed... or a hospital room for that matter... "Water?" Rasping it out, his mother dropped the hem of the blanket immediately, a cold cup with a sharp straw appearing to poke him in the nose, before his mother bent it down so he could actually drink from it. Gulping greedily, it was taken away before he was ready "You'll make yourself sick of you drink too fast" Clearing his throat, Lance nodded, his attention shifting back to Keith. His anxieties had told him that man he loved would abandon him, yet here he was, glued to his side and snoring so perfectly. "How was he?" "Worried for you. Coran had to have him removed from beside your pod so he'd rest..." "And you?" "You gave me a scare, but Coran assured me that you'd be coming out the pod just fine. How do you feel?" "Sleepy... warm. Thanks for looking out for him..." "He's a sweet boy. Refused to come back to Earth with me, but did ask me to pick up a few things for you while I was there" "You went back?" "Coran gave me an estimate on when you'd be out. You know your father, he'd fall apart without someone there to make sure dinner's on the table" Lance gave a snort that turned into a cough, Keith rousing from his sleep. With wide purple eyes, Lance was pulled even tighter against him. Patting his boyfriend's back, he realised that his left hand was still covered up. Something that was both scary and relieving. If something was wrong with it, he didn't want his mother to have to see. Tightening his hold further, Lance squeaked "Hey, hey... your crushing me, Mullet" Loosening his hold minutely, Keith wasn't done "How do you feel? Do you need anything? You scared me, you dick" Patting Keith's back, Lance was ready to fall back to sleep again. He was cold, but where Keith was touching him was so warm he was sweating "'m ok. Sleepy... but ok. I can still feel everything. I know who you and mum are... the important things... how long have I been out?" "Mijo, don't you remember? You just asked" Lance was pretty sure he was entitled to some memory loss when he was still defrosting "Mean out of the pod..." "Oh, a few vargas now. Keith insisted on carrying you from the pod to this private room Coran organised" "It doesn't look like.... a hospital room" Yawning widely in the middle of his sentence, his mother patted his head "That's because it's in the staff quarters. Now you just get some more rest, I'll be right here when you wake up again" "Mmm... I don't think I have much choice in the matter. Keith, you should get some rest too, babe" "I'm alright. I got a few vargas" "Babe..." "Please let me stay... I really need to be with you..." He couldn't deny Keith anything when he was so soft and warm against him "Mmm... but you need to rest properly, and have something to eat..." "I'm fine, babe. Now that you're awake, I'm fine" "Mami, make sure he eats and rests... imma just gonna go back to sleep for a bit" Settling back against him, Keith nuzzled into his neck as he finally loosened his hold. A hand lazily running up from his side to rest on his chest as he pressed a kiss to the curve of Lance's neck "I love you, baby. I don't just love you... I'm in love with you. Thank you for coming back to me" It was a secret whisper meant only for him. It was also the best wakeup he'd ever had when it came to coming out of a pod. Keith was such an adorable bastard. * Spending most of the first quintant out the pod napping off and on, Lance was still sleepy when Coran came to check on them the following morning. His mother was off calling home to let them all know Lance was still doing alright, leaving Keith to snuggle up with his boyfriend as much as he liked. With Lance being tired of being so tired, he was sitting between Keith's legs, back against the half-Galra's hand as he tried not to fall asleep. Sleepy Lance was adorable... but unfortunately being so sleepy had also left Lance on edge. His left hand had become a no go zone, Keith respecting the fact Lance hadn't had a chance to see his hand yet, so hadn't pushed to see the wound left. It wasn't like he wanted to. When a worried Coran turned up in the waiting room, wringing his hands and unable to stand still, Keith had nearly burst into tears before he even knew what had happened. He still didn't know much, only that Lance had some kind of bleed in the brain while in surgery due to something abnormal in his head, and while it'd been treated, brain injuries were never something to take lightly. With his face completely hidden by the mass of flowers in the bouquet he carried, Coran was doing that thing where he was smiling widely while his bottom lip wobbled threatening. Carrying the flowers over, he placed them down into Lance's lap, before finally giving in and launching himself on Lance, crying softly. Patting Coran's back, Lance laughed softly "I've had enough from mami and Keith" "You gave us all quite the scare" Keith didn't need to see Lance's face to know Lance was rolling his eyes. He well and truly got it "I'm ok... I mean, I am ok, aren't I?" "Yes indeed, number three. Fit as... a fiddle!" Coran sounded proud to have got the saying right "See Keith, you can relax now" How was he supposed to relax? He hadn't been able to relax since Lance had wheeled off for surgery. He'd kind of made a nuisance of himself demanding answers anytime anyone checked the pod Lance was in "He was quite lost without you" "He made a pest of himself, didn't he?" Coran hummed, the man had never excelled at lying. Groaning loudly at the noise, Lance wriggled against him to face him "Please tell me you didn't break anything" "I didn't break anything important" He hadn't... broken anything much. Maybe a few coffeecup that came with everyone insisting he drink, eat and rest... Yeah. He was a wreck. A ball of anger that not having Lance by his side brought back to life. He'd even been dobbed into Shiro, and Kosmo had deserted him to trail around after Coran. He came back at night, which was a nice distraction, but the thought of brain damage just wouldn't leave his mind. Narrowing his eyes, Lance huffed before turning back to Coran who had taken a seat in the visitors chair "Sooo. What's this scare all about?" Unable to keep still, Coran took the flowers from Lance's lap, standing up again to find up a vase for them "Coran?" "Hang on my boy" Lance gave a frustrated groan "You can't tell me to hang on. I've been hanging on for the two movements. Mami said I bleed in my brain. Was it to do with the scarring there?" "No, no... I'm so sorry my boy" Lance tensed in his hold, his scent turning feared "Coran, you're freaking him out. The flowers can wait. What happened in there? You said it was an easy surgery. It was supposed to be an easy procedure. You said he'd be perfectly fine. So you need to explain to us what happened properly" "Yes. Yes... I'm sorry, you're right. I failed you. Young Miss Daehra and I both failed you" Daehra. Failed. Lance. Those three words didn't go together. She was almost fanatical about the health of her team, learning absolutely everything she could. "Coran" Keith's tone held a gentle growl "As you say, you did suffer a bleed. A piece of alien technology was found in your brain, where the sample was supposed to have been taken from. Given it was organic, it wasn't picked up on Daehra's scanners. It was so small, it'd give the ice worms of Csadex 9 a run for their money" Lance was still tense, Keith couldn't brain him. The idea of having something in his brain that reminded Coran of worms was kind of revolting "There was what?" "A little tiny tracker. Started transmitting almost as soon as they got started. We got that pesky blighter, but couldn't remove it intact. We theorise that they implanted it while taking their samples" "Coran, not to burst your bubble here, but wouldn't it have started sooner? Like after it was put in? Or when we were on the Atlas?" Pulling forward, Lance drew his knees up as he did when upset "Well, my boy. We've never seen anything like it... We cannot confirm for sure that it was a tracker, but with how desperate they seemed for you, it is our most valid theory" "A theory that doesn't even make sense. I was on the Atlas for movements. I was around Altean tech on the Atlas. Plus, why didn't you guys pick it up with your scanners when we were on the prison ship?" "The Atlas has scramblers in place that prevent outgoing calls on unknown frequencies. You couldn't get a signal on that ship either. Maybe... it was so they could find us if we escaped" By "us", Keith was trying to reassure Lance that wherever he went, he'd be with him. Lance wasn't having "It's fucking wrong, is what it is! Haven't they taken enough from me? Without putting something in my head, like I'm an intergalactic cat!" "Babe, you put a collar on a cat" "Yeah, or a gps! Have you been scanned?" He'd been scanned on the Atlas. Nothing had shown up there... plus, he was more or less along for the ride. It was Lance they'd wanted all along. Clearing his throat, Coran tried to soothe Lance "Keith received medical treatment on the Atlas. No such device was found on or in him" Throwing his hands up, Lance turned to him "See, Keith. Like a freakin' cat. I can't believe they put something into my head. No. I can't believe that I can't believe that they'd do something like that" "It's out now. That's the main thing... Coran, how's his shoulder and... everything else?" The "not related to his head" part went unsaid. Lance was going to be brooding on this and Keith had no idea what to say. Lance was right, they had taken so much from him. It wasn't fair they'd left one more surprise in store "Excellent. It's all excellent. All that's left is to sleep of the pods effects. Your finger has healed, and any of those other lumps and bumps are history" "What about my other problem?" What other problem? There was something else going on? Coran looked as confused as Keith was "You know, the whole Allura changed my body thing. Let me guess, can't fix that in one of your fancy pods?" What was Lance getting angry at Coran for? Coran had worked his hardest at finding answers on the situation. No one but Allura could understand Allura's true intentions "Yes... well, we did some more scans. And watching you two, as well as taking into account your symptoms, I believe I have a clear idea of what she was hoping to accomplish" "Which was what? Turn me into fucking cat nip for Galra?" "Not Galra, but one particular Galra. I believe she didn't want you to be alone after she passed. She knew you cared deeply for Keith, and Keith for you. I think she changed part of your quintessence so that you and Keith would be able to better understand each other. Things like your scent, you can read each other through it. And we all know how much family means to you" "So she fucked with my body, made me something less that I was, so that Keith would want me?! Are you fucking kidding me? I told you those things in private. I let you in and told you what it's been like... and you can't do anything about it at all? Because of her... because of her, I..." "I believe..." "You "believe", you don't "know". Admit it. You have no idea why she turned me into freak. You have no idea why I keep hallucinating her. You have no idea why I can fall pregnant now, do you? You don't. You don't know what it's been like... neither of you understand!" Yelling, Lance shimmied forward, climbing off the bed clumsily before "striding" over to the door "I want you both out" Hang on. What had he done? Why was he getting kicked out? Neither what Coran had said, or what he had said should warrant such an action. Climbing out of bed, Keith moved to Lance's side "Babe..." "Don't "babe" me! Don't you get it, she changed me so that you would love me! She thought me so unlovable that she had to "fix" me. Can you say you loved me, before? Honestly loved me? Or is this fucked up body making you feel things because she changed it?!" "I told you I love you, even before I left to be with the Blades, I was falling in love with you! I don't get why you're yelling at both of us. Coran did the research. There were male Altean's who gave birth... Coran, tell him. He spent vargas researching ways to help you" Lance was shaking, Keith wanted to comfort him, but the look in his eyes said he might just lose it if someone was to touch him "I'm not Altean! I'm me. Just a nobody from Cuba! I want you to both leave" "Lance..." "I want to be alone" "Number three. I do have some..." "Please! Both of you, you don't get it! I want to be alone!... please" Dropping from a yell, Lance hit the door sensor pad "Babe..." "Keith, I don't want to yell at you, but I need space right now. Or I'm going to end up doing something very stupid-er. Ok. Take Kosmo for a walk... I need to think" "I don't think you should be alone right now" "Just get out!" "Babe..." "Please, please just go..." Coran and Keith both sighed heavily to themselves as they left. The door sliding shut seemed to sound louder than normal. Placing his hand on Keith's shoulder, Coran let out another heavy sigh "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset him" "You're not the one who upset him... Neither of us were. He's right... we don't understand everything he went through" "That doesn't mean we stop trying. I fear I put too much on his shoulders too soon" "I'm sorry he yelled at you" "It's ok, my boy. Why don't you go freshen up, take a walk like he suggested. I'm sure he'll no doubt be ready to apologise by the time you get back" Keith held a healthy level of respect for Coran, but couldn't say he wasn't furious at Lance. While he didn't want Coran angry with Lance, he didn't know how he could keep so cool and calm when being yelled at by someone he cared about so deeply "Thank you... those flowers were nice" "Picked them myself. Pop-pop made sure I knew all the "ins and outs" of design. Allura quite liked picking flowers near the castle..." Keith's heart gave an uncomfortable thump. It was hard knowing there was a massive statue of Allura right outside the hospital. Well, not right outside, but visible nonetheless. He didn't feel like Altea was really the right place for Lance to be recovering, so he'd brought all their blankets up to make Lance's room less Alteany. He wanted Lance to sleep off his discomfort in somewhere that wasn't sterile white walls... and somewhere they'd have space to talk privately... not that they'd really talked. Lance was too sleepy, and had grown tired of him repeatedly asking if he was alright "I'm sorry he snapped over Allura..." "No. He's confused. People he thought were friends did this to him. He has a right to his anger" "He doesn't have a right to snap at you. Even if he's hurting" "Thank you, Keith. I wish I knew how to help him more" "There are some things he needs to work out for himself, and he's willing to see a therapist. So that's a big step... waking up and finding everything out, I should have seen this coming" "No. You don't blame yourself either, young man. You've been wonderful with him... He's opened his heart to you. You've grown into a wonderful young man. Allura would be so happy to see the happiness between you" "It's not always happy" "No relationship ever is. All you can have is love and patience" "I'm not that great with the patience thing" "Nonsense. Now you go find that wolf of yours and get some air" "Yeah. I might go check on the Telula. Make sure everything is alright there. He'd kill me if I let something happen to his ship" Coran let him take the out, the man giving a firm squeeze before parting. Lance needed time and he needed to respect that... even if it felt like his heart was breaking. He'd loved him for so long, where as Lance had only admitted he cared for him just a handful of phoebs ago. He was getting impatient again. He was forgetting that Lance also had to suffer waiting without news while Keith had been in the pod. Emotions were running high, and the best thing they could do was sit down and take a deep breath, before something else came their way. * Locking himself away in the bathroom closest to his room, Lance stripped off the hospital gown they'd stuck him, and the pants he'd had to beg to keep. He'd told his mother he wanted to nap, wanting to be alone which she ignored as she fussed over Coran's flowers. Not granting him a moment's peace before finally deciding he looked tired enough to sleep after not letting him get a word in all morning... Standing before the mirror in the room, his eyes roamed over his naked body. This was his body. Supposed to be his body... His body with all these new scars across it. Raising his left hand to reach for the scar on his right shoulder, he paused as he caught sight of it. Instead of red, or pink, scar tissue covering the back of it, it looked like an intricate series of cobweb strands. The skin between a few shades lighter than the caramel skin that covered the rest of him. It disgusted him. The memories of having his hand ground beneath the officers boot, like he was nothing. Was he really that bad? Throwing himself forward with fake bravado had been the only way he knew to survive... and this was surely karma at its finest. Letting out a shaky breath, he turned his hand slowly to stare at the remains of his little finger. The skin having pulled together like it was natural not to have a little finger. The only proof that there was ever anything more there was the smallest of pink scars on the tip of it. He'd lost his finger... but he could have lost so much more. He could have lost Keith. He could have cost everyone everything with this... that stupid thing in his head. Why weren't they mad at him? Tearing eyes turned to soft sobs, his hand shaking as he leaned towards the mirror to brush his fingers over the shaven area. It'd grown back a little while he'd been on bedrest, but they'd shaved it again. A small thin scar about a centimetre above his ear, and curving back slightly. They'd been in his brain. They'd been in his brain because Kre'el had put a damn tracker in his head... Trailing his shaking fingers down his naked chest, he turned to look at the scars across his body. Scars he couldn't even name. Scars because he'd been trying so desperately to keep his head above water. Why had it been him? The Red Lion was all a farce. Why couldn't they have asked him for help? He would have helped... he would have done anything to take away the pain of being home and losing Allura. They didn't need to go this far. They didn't need to torture him. They didn't need to rip away that stupid romantic piece of himself over giving his virginity to someone who loved him as much as he loved them. Twisting sideways, he stared at his back. The risen scars from poorly healed wounds. The beatings they'd give him for screaming. For fighting. For not behaving himself. Hell. Sometimes they'd done it just for fun... Why him? He tried to be a good person. He tried to help. He tried his hardest not to be a burden. Not to weigh everyone down. He was a people person... or he had been. God. He'd been so rude to Keith. He'd been so rude to Coran. They wanted to help him. They wanted the best for him. Keith was hurting badly enough as it was. Keith who'd loved him for years before he'd realised. Keith who worried himself to the point of self implosion... Keith who was just as scared as he was of being left behind by those who loved him. He'd nearly died. He'd nearly died and left him behind. He didn't want to leave Keith behind... he didn't want to be this person, lashing out to hurt others. It never made him feel better... and it was never alright. But how could Keith love him? He was... he was all of this... This body. These scars... The man staring back at him... He'd been doing better. He'd been sure he was doing better... But was he? When was the last time he spent time with his team? The last time they had any real work? Or did anything they wanted to do? He'd been lost in Keith. In Keith ripping his emotions out and rebuilding him. His soft hands and gentle words... He didn't want to be this person. He wanted to be good for Keith. Keith who'd, for the lack of better term, had love to this body. Who wasn't disgusted that he got "periods" or got "wet"... Keith who accepted all of this better than he did. Turning back, he lifted both hands to the bathroom sink. Small scars remained from the cuffs they'd forced on him. Were Keith's wrists scarred? Had he asked? He'd seen the small scar that remained from accidentally been stabbed by the handle of his own blade... Why had Keith scarred, while his broken skin had grown back lighter? His hands didn't even feel like his anymore. He felt as if he still belonged to "them"... He didn't want... He wanted Coran to have a magical cure. He knew how shameful his heat was. The need to be fucked senseless. To be filled and brought to completion until he whited out with pleasure... Keith had never seen him like that. What if it disgusted him? What if that was what drove him away? Keith was his stability. He loved him. He loved him... but some part of him scared of him. Scared of losing control again to drunk courage... to going too far in the moment and hurting himself. It'd felt good. So good to know what it was like to sleep with someone who cherished him... but he wasn't ready for it again. Learning Kre'el's truth brought it all crashing back, and he didn't have a strategy to deal with it all. He couldn't drink away his pain. He couldn't get so high that he felt like he was invincible. They were the wrong methods... but what were the right ones? Could they even fix him? Placing his hands on his hips, he slid them down, shuddering at the touch so close to his groin where his dick laid limp, tucked up in his thin pubes as if trying to hide. Was this body really alright? Was it ok to touch himself? To give in to the soft caresses? He didn't like touching himself, even to shower. He wasn't sure if he'd been ok with Keith helping him shower, yet didn't know how to voice that when his boyfriend was bending over backwards to help him. He didn't know his boundaries anymore. He didn't know how to find them again. He needed help... He wanted to go back to Leandro. When Leandro was easy. When Leandro was all he had to be. All people expected him to be... Lance was so hard. Lance was exhausting. Lance was so many things to too many people. He just wanted to world to stand still. He wanted to feel like he could breathe. He wanted to scream it all out, but wherever he turned, someone was there. Someone to suffocate him with their love when he wanted to work things out in his head first. That's why he'd snapped at Coran and Keith. Their words grating as his sleep drugged mind tried to work out the meaning of their words. He was half a dobosh behind the conversation, and angry with himself for not being able to keep up. He'd been so horrible to both of them. But... they didn't get it. He'd been pregnant. A piece of them had been inside of him and he hadn't known it until it was... gone. Like this thing in his head... Coran didn't know... but Keith did... Keith knew what they did... Sliding his hands up to his stomach, he rubbed at the taunt skin. He'd been born male, and now he was... this. Was this ok? Wasn't he supposed to be somehow manipulating his quintessence without knowing it? Wasn't Coran supposed to be able to tell him how to control it? How to turn back to normal? A scream coming him before he could stop himself, fingertips digging into the sensitive flesh, his sobs turning hysterical as he sunk to kneel. He didn't want to be like this. Why couldn't he ever do anything right? The door to the bathroom slip open, Lance still balling as Keith rushed to gather him up into his hold. Lance hiccuping in surprise as Keith held his face to his neck "They raped me! The raped me and left me like this!" "Shhh. I know baby, I know..." "They didn't listen... it hurt. It hurt and I couldn't... ugh... ugh..." "Shhh, I've got you sweet heart Shaking his head, Keith didn't get it "They put it inside of me! They put it inside of me and I lost it... they didn't ask... they just did what they wanted... then they put... they put... they put that thing in my head... I can't do this... I'm... I don't know who I am anymore... not Lance... don't want to be Lance..." Tilting Lance's face back, Keith moved to cup his cheeks. Sad eyes met his tear filled vision, all blotchy and out of focus but undeniably Keith's. He didn't want Keith to see him like this. Not when he was a ball of conflicting feelings, and not when sometimes you just needed to cry it out in peace "Fuck... oh, babe. I didn't think. I love you. I'm here for you. I'm here for you and I love you..." "I don't want to lose you, but I'm so scared they're coming! They're dead but... did I kill them all? Did... did they track me here? Are we going to see Altea fall again?!" "You're safe here. You're safe with me. You're safe" "I don't feel safe! They were in my head! They put something in me again, Keith! Something I didn't want!" "I know... I don't know what to say... but I'm listening. I'm listening to you" "I can't do this... I can't fix myself... I don't know how to... I'm so tired of them taking things from me" "I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry. What do you need?" Lance sniffled loudly, trying to calm himself down "Sh-shower" "You want to take a shower?" "Y-yes..." "Ok, I'll help you" Shaking his head, he didn't really want to be touched "Alone... shower alone..." "Are you sure?" "Need to... feel clean..." "You're exhausted, babe" "I want to shower alone... please. Please let me shower... please..." "Ok. Ok, shhhh. Do you want me to do anything?" He wasn't getting rid of Keith. Keith would hover no matter what he did "W-wait outside?" "Sure. Sure thing. I've got Kosmo with me, so you can cuddle with him if you want? He's missed you. He kept teleporting me back to the front of the hospital..." Nodding, Keith couldn't resist as he pulled him to stand as the half-Galra rose "I'll be right outside waiting" Lance blinked his vision mostly clear, the fuzzy bathroom sink was where his gaze fell "Ok..." "And don't worry about how long you take. Take as long as you need"

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damon-rutherford · 5 years

Text

Survivor, part 1| Self.Para

Warning: This self-para has heavy mentions of child abuse.

The twinkling lights of London skyline created a boundary between his world and the rest. A glass half-full of aged Scotch, a bowtie dangling from his neck, his shirt unbuttoned, Damon Rutherford was leaning against the cold glass of his clock tower penthouse, taking in the eerie silence of the flat.

The tangled silk sheets signaled that not long ago another one of his conquests had shared his bed with him. Thankfully, the girl didn’t stay long. Damon never had it in him to ask them to leave in the middle of the night, but this one seemed to understand his sudden need to be left alone.

Usually, Damon Rutherford hated being alone, but tonight he wanted to revel in it, the same way, one would enjoy sinking deeper in their own melancholy by listening to sad music or watching the raindrops fall against the window glass.

He hated being alone, so he always kept a company of family, friends, endless strings of one-night-stands, random acquaintances, or whoever was excited enough to be around him. Somebody always was. The constant partying had been more about creating background noise, than simply indulging in his vices. It made easier to keep the memories blocked out. Every once in a while, though, the past escaped through the cracks of the mental prison he had built for all the memories he needed to lock up. They only ever returned as flashes, images from a faraway nightmare. On rare nights like this, he needed to let the memories escape a for a little while, almost if the part of his brain responsible for keeping them in was asking for a few hours of rest.

So he let it go...

Once upon a time, he was not a real boy. He was a burden. An outlet for his parents’ anger. A punching bag. Anything but a child.

In hindsight, the worst part wasn’t the beating. It wasn’t the pain and bruises that came after, either. Not even abandonment.

It was the fact that when their neighbour asked three-year-old Damon if everything was okay at home, he said yes. It wasn’t his intention to lie, or keep the secret. He simply didn’t know any better. Damon spent his first years on Earth not knowing that most parents didn’t beat their children and leave them in bruises.

For little Damon the sound of key turning into the lock was the most terrifying one in the world - it meant his father or mother had returned home. For one reason or another, Tom Abbott always flew into fits of rage, without exception. Damon’s mentally unstable mother, Rose, was no good, either. She had forgotten to feed him on more than one occasion. Whenever Rose needed a hit and there was no Heroin left, her bloodshot eyes narrowed in on him, Damon. Apparently, the only substitute for drugs was yelling and beating her own son.

Memories were out of order, a bit vague, but they were there...

He remembered crying himself to sleep, starved and desperate for food. Their fridge hardly ever seemed to stock anything but cheap beer and vodka.

He remembered being thrown down the stairs for asking to tie his shoelaces.

He remembered being beaten with the leather belt for knocking over a chair and waking up his father.

He remembered his father pressing the lit-up cigarette on his skin when Damon didn’t stop crying.

He remembered being absolutely terrified when his nose started to bleed after his mother slammed the door in his face.

He remembered rummaging for threw away cans in public garbage bins while his mother was scraping money for her next fix.

The more he raised his tiny little hands in despair and begged his father to stop beating him, the more aggravated the man became. Every new hit was more and more painful.

He remembered being left behind in a house with broken windows, no heating, and no electricity after his parents had fled Bristol.

Damon Rutherford was not a real boy. Boys had loving families, warm food, a nice bed with fluffy pillows, toy cars, and stuffed animals, someone to tuck them in before sleep. But Damon had none of those things. What he had was a couple of drug and alcohol addicts as his tormentors, clothes with holes in them, and an urgent need for bone re-alignment surgery after his father broke his arm.

When faced with the new reality, that he was left completely alone, Damon had reacted in the only way he knew how - with violence. He bit the social worker who was assigned his case so hard, she started to bleed. Fostering was definitely not an option. After finally realising he had been abandoned by his parents, Damon felt confused and angry. Why was the world so unfair to him? What did he ever do to deserve having two pieces of trash as parents? At children’s house, Damon attacked everyone who attempted to come anywhere close to him. If he had learned anything from his parents it was that humans were awful.

Until he met Gideon.

#SelfPara

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skimmonsfiction · 6 years

Note

Skimmons prompt: domestic-ish. Daisy/Skye and Jemma get into a fight about something unimportant and Jemma storms off, but then Skye gets a call from the hospital saying Jemma's been in a car accident.

“We should go on a family vacation.” Daisy suddenly exclaimed in the middle of dinner. Jemma just raised her eyebrows while holding another spoonful of baby food up to their daughter’s mouth.

“Where did that come from?” She asked. Daisy had seemed perfectly happy with their situation, and Jemma was quite happy with it herself, so she didn’t see why they would need to escape it.

“I don’t know, but don’t you think it would be fun?” Daisy had a wide grin on her face, and Jemma knew now that this was another one of her crazy ideas that probably wouldn’t happen, so she decided to entertain the thought.

“I suppose.” She thought about it for a little while, but it definitely wouldn’t work. Even though Daisy worked at home from her computer, Jemma knew she wouldn’t be able to leave the lab for several days in a row without consequences to her research.

“Come on, just the three of us. Some cabin in the woods or something, it’ll be great. Why not?” Jemma sighed and continued to feed Mandy, who was quickly getting excited because of Daisy’s behavior and her loud, quick voice. Jemma wished she could do all these things with Daisy. Her wife was a dreamer and an adventurer, but they just couldn’t do all of that now that they’d settled down and gotten jobs and a child.

“I have work, Daisy, you know that. And I don’t see the purpose of a vacation right now.” Jemma told her, taking a bite herself between the ones she offered to Mandy.

“To make fun memories! Don’t you want Mandy to remember a fun childhood?” Daisy questioned, and Jemma could tell she was being serious this time. For some reason, she wanted them all to get away from their already quite perfect lives.

“Children don’t even develop accurate memories until they are at least three years of age, so she wouldn’t remember any of it anyway.” Jemma pointed out.

“Why do you have to be so technical all the time?” Daisy suddenly snipped, and Jemma could almost feel the tension rising in the room, though she didn’t really understand why.

“I’m just being rational. It would be illogical to take a vacation right now.” Jemma said it calmly, but she could tell that she’d upset Daisy in some way and she was starting to feel a little offended herself.

“You don’t always have to be rational.” Daisy muttered, and it was obvious that she was annoyed now. “I just wanted us all to have some fun together, but pardon me, I didn’t know you weren’t willing to leave the lab to spend some time with me and our daughter.” She folded her arms over her chest and slumped back in her chair, looking over at Jemma bitterly.

That hurt. Jemma could feel the tears biting at the back of her eyes and she didn’t know why Daisy would say something like that. She loved her life, she loved Daisy, and she loved Mandy, and that was why she made sure her work was going steady, so she could always contribute to maintaining a good life. Daisy may not have realized just how hurtful her words were, but Jemma could feel it like a punch to the chest.“Fine. If you don’t think I want to spend any time with you, you can put Mandy to bed. I’m going back to the lab.” Jemma stood abruptly and headed for the door, grabbing her keys on the way out and ignoring when Daisy called her name. She’d said her peace, and now Jemma wanted to get away for a little while to try to handle how it made her feel.

Jemma was driving to work, her current place of refuge, but the tears in her eyes blurred all the lights ahead of her on the dark streets. She turned the radio volume up to drown out the sound of her own crying and just drove, not really paying attention. She hated that that was what Daisy thought of her; that she valued her work more than she loved her family. That wasn’t the truth.Jemma was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear or see the oncoming truck. Her radio was too loud and her vision too foggy, so there was no warning. She saw a bright flash of light and heard the shattering of glass and the screeching twist of metal before it was over. ———“Jemma, pick up.” Daisy pleaded to the phone, though nobody was listening. Mandy was wailing and Daisy was trying to calm her down by bouncing her up and down on her hip, but she just kept crying and Daisy didn’t know what to do. Jemma was the one that always had the calming voice and the sweet smile that made Mandy quiet.Daisy felt absolutely terrible. She hadn’t meant to say those things to her, but she had gotten so worked up and annoyed that Jemma always had to rationalize everything. She knew that that was usually a good thing and that it kept order in their family. She’d overreacted about it and should have come up with other reasons they should go, she shouldn’t have attacked Jemma like that.

“This is Jemma Simmons. I’m unavailable right now, but if you leave a message I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” Daisy groaned when she heard the answering machine for the third time in a row. She knew Jemma was driving and probably shouldn’t pick up the phone, but she also didn’t like to think that Jemma was ignoring her, even though that was very possible.

“Shhh, it’s okay, she’s going to be back in a little while.” Daisy promised Mandy, kissing her forehead and trying to ease her screaming. She wanted Jemma and Daisy knew it, but she didn’t know what else to do. She picked up her phone to call again, but the screen lit up before she had the chance. For a moment Daisy was hopeful, maybe Jemma was finally calling her back, but the number was unknown.

“Hello?” Daisy answered it anyway. She couldn’t hear the voice on the other end of the line because of Mandy’s wailing, so as much as she hated to do it, she put the infant in her crib and left the room for a moment.

“Am I speaking with Daisy Johnson-Simmons?” The woman on the other end sounded disheartened, and Daisy’s heart rate spiked for some unknown reason.

“Yes, that’s me? What is this about?” Daisy’s voice shook slightly as she held the phone closer to her ear, not wanting to miss a single word.

“I’m afraid your wife has been in an accident. You should come down to the hospital as soon as possible.” Daisy swore her heart stopped. Tears were already welling up in her eyes and she hadn’t even heard what had happened yet. But if Jemma was hurt…or worse…and the last thing they’d done was argue over something stupid, Daisy knew she would never be able to forgive herself.

“I’m on my way.” She said stiffly, but a sob tore out of her lungs the moment she hung up. Without a second though, she called Bobbi to ask for a ride and hurried back into the nursery to get her child. _________________“I need to see my wife, her name is Jemma Johnson-Simmons.” Daisy said in a rush as she approached the reception desk at the hospital. Her palms landed flat against the counter and she watched with impatience as the attendant typed on the computer, looking for the information she needed.

“I’m sorry, she’s in surgery right now. You can wait in the lobby over there,” The woman pointed to a set of hardly comfortable looking waiting seats and was giving her a look of pity. “The doctor treating your wife will be out to explain when she is stable.” Daisy nodded, tears in her eyes, and turned back to Bobbi, taking a sleeping Mandy from her arms and holding her close as they moved towards the chairs and sat down, preparing for a long wait. The infant tended to fall asleep during car rides, so she was passed out in Daisy’s arms, a tiny hand grabbing onto her clothes in her sleep.

“It’ll be okay.” Bobbi broke the silence between them after several minutes and laid a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. They had been quietly trying to soak in the information, trying to comprehend that this was real and that it had happened.

“You don’t know that.” Daisy muttered, rocking Mandy slightly when she began showing signs that she might wake up. She didn’t look at Bobbi as she spoke, but it wouldn’t have mattered since her eyes were clouded with tears. “They haven’t told us anything, I don’t know how bad it was, Jemma could be-”

“Don’t go there.” Bobbi interrupted her. She was worried too, but she wasn’t going to let Daisy say it, because then she had to consider the possibility, and that was something she very much didn’t want to do.

“We fought, that’s why she was driving. She was upset and it was my fault.” Daisy bit her lip, but it didn’t contain the sob that shook her body. Mandy shifted slightly and she had to calm down again for her sake. She didn’t want Mandy to be awake for all of this, she’d rather her be blissfully sleeping until they had news. Daisy was thankful now that she knew Mandy wouldn’t remember this, but the memory of her snipping at Jemma for saying it earlier bit at the back of her eyes and made more tears form.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Bobbi told her, but she didn’t elaborate. There was nothing she could say that she knew would convince her otherwise, so she chose to let the silence stretch on instead. She had some cash in her pocket, and after about an hour of waiting she got up and bought her and Daisy a few candy bars from the vending machine and some coffees from the cafeteria. Daisy wouldn’t eat anything, but she did sip on the coffee and continue to cradle her daughter until she woke up.

The waiting was starting to kill them both, and no one had stepped through the doors to give them any news. Daisy had a hardened look on her face, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed into a thin line. Bobbi took over holding Mandy for a while when Daisy insisted she needed to do something on her phone, and Bobbi didn’t like the look on her friend’s face.

There was no news, so Daisy was digging around with her phone to find out just how bad it could be. Her computer skills were coming into use now, and she found the accident in the police records in practically no time flat. It barely took her any longer to hack into the intersection cams to see the footage. Bobbi’s face had disapproval all over it, but she was leaning over Daisy too, maybe out of morbid curiosity.

Daisy backed up to the time Jemma left the house, and they watched for a minute or two before Daisy suddenly snapped to attention. She saw Jemma’s car, and without having to really see her face, she could tell Jemma was upset. Daisy’s heart pounded in her chest, knowing she was about to see the accident any second. As Jemma passed through the intersection, a pickup truck ran a red light from the other direction, slamming into the passenger side of Jemma’s car with so much force that it sent it spinning off the road into a ditch and tipping over. Daisy’s hands were shaking as she saw the destruction, and she moved it back to watch it again, but Bobbi tugged the phone from her hands.

“Mrs. Johnson-Simmons?” Daisy’s head shot up at her name and when she saw the doctor in scrubs standing in the doorway, she rose from her seat automatically to approach him.

“You should sit back down.” The doctor told her, and she began to panic. He didn’t have the best look about him, and his tone of voice suggested things weren’t going to be fine.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you, I’m going to tell you what is going on.” The doctor glanced at the child in Bobbi’s arms before continuing to tell Daisy what was wrong. “Your wife is stable, at least for now. She sustained several internal injuries, two broken ribs and a punctured lung. These we repaired during surgery.” The doctor explained, but Daisy was just glad he wasn’t telling her she was dead.

“So she’s going to be alright? When will she wake up? Can I see her?” Daisy fired an onslaught of questions, none of which the doctor answered.

“No one can be certain how this is going to turn out. We had to put her into an induced coma. There was trauma to her head and swelling in her brain. We’ve done all we can, but it’s up to her now. The coma is to give her the time and let her body focus on healing.”

“I need to see her.” Daisy insisted, and she, Bobbi and Mandy were finally led to the room Jemma was placed in with another comatose patient with only a thin curtain between them. Daisy sat down in the visitor’s chair by the bed, grabbed Jemma’s hand, and fully intended to wait for her to wake up.

“Bobbi, can you watch Mandy for a few days?” Daisy asked.

“Of course. Anything you need.” Bobbi nodded and continued to rock the infant in her arms.

Daisy turned back to Jemma and held her hand gently, just staring at all the tubes and wires attached to her with immense guilt in her gut. “I’m so sorry, this is my fault.” She began to cry, but tried to hold it together for Jemma in case she could hear her. “Don’t you worry Jemma, I’m going to be right here when you wake up. I promise.”

#skimmons #bioquake #sorry i havent been doing prompts lately #shoot me one and ill try to doit #skimmons fanfiction #prompt #bioquake fanfiction

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devilsofficialfanfic · 6 years

Text

The Purple Flame

Chapter 15: Feelings Are Scary, A Novel By Lotor

A/N: I actually know exactly how I want this fic to end. We just gotta get through the middle parts first. And no, I won’t spoil it for you guys :)

Content Warnings: No Shower Sex (i promise), No Mpreg (I PROMISE), Lance being Lance, Lotor’s Super Depressing Childhood, Bullshit Galra Biology brings all the boys to the yard, We Have To Talk About Shiro

Lotor could not remember being happier in his life.

And that scared him.

He knew, from experience, that such happiness wouldn’t last long. It never did. Perhaps that was why he’d never pursued a long-term relationship with anyone before; he’d just be giving another pawn for Haggar to use against him, and he wouldn’t have been able to withstand the heartbreak.

He’d been very young when he realized that no one loved him, and he’d grown inured to the idea over the years. It still hurt, thinking about it, sometimes, but it was a familiar kind of pain, like the ache in his right knee from where he’d shattered it once. That was the type of pain he could withstand.

The sharp, burning pain of the witch taking everything from him -his mother, his father, his life’s work, the only four people he’d ever trusted -that was something else.

He wasn’t going to let her take Keith from him, too. And Keith was his responsibility now. Keith could take care of himself, of course, but it didn’t hurt to have someone at your back that you could trust.

And Keith did trust him.

The other paladins did not, the Blades did not, Coran did not, but Keith did.

And he trusted Keith.

That was why he slipped into the shower behind Keith without a second thought, unafraid to let Keith see him for who and what he was.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Keith said as he washed his hair, “but is there a reason for this? You haven’t wanted to before.”

“I have fewer secrets from you now,” Lotor said.

“Will I ever learn all your secrets?”

“Ten thousand years’ worth? I doubt it.”

“Seriously, though, are you in here for sex? Because I don't think that’s gonna happen.”

“It’s not a good idea,” Lotor agreed. “But no, I just…” Why was he there? He could barely stand to let Keith out of his sight, like Keith’s presence alone was some sort of intoxicating drug he just couldn’t get enough of.

Not that he indulged in any mind-altering substances with any frequency; he rarely felt secure enough to purposefully incapacitate himself.

And then it hit him. “I want to apologize to you, Keith,” he began. “I should have warned you, but… Honestly, it rarely happens in hybrids, and it’s never happened to me, so I didn’t think… I didn’t think I’d be affected.”

Keith turned around to face him. “What are you talking about?”

“In full-blooded Galra, there is an instinctual and pheromonal response to… certain situations, particularly at the start of a new relationship.”

“That did not answer my question,” Keith said. “Also, pheromones?”

“Most scientists believe that it initially evolved as a mechanism for the male of the species to ensure that the female was properly impregnated with his offspring.” He closed his eyes. This was terribly embarrassing. “Do humans not do the same?”

“Why would I know? The only humans I’ve ever really gotten to know are the other paladins, and they’re not exactly ‘normal’ humans.” Then Keith frowned. “Are you implying I could be pregnant?”

“I sincerely hope not. I feel like the doctor should have mentioned that.” And Dr. Arnok was an expert in hybrids. “If it were possible. I was led to believe that human males are incapable of carrying children.”

Keith sighed in relief. “They are.” He turned back to rinse his hair out; Lotor continued washing himself. “So what are you saying, then?”

“Whenever I’m around you, my body picks up on pheromones that you’ve released, and those mimic neurotransmitters within my brain that activate the reward centers.”

“So being around me makes you happy?”

“...Yes.”

“Is that why I can barely keep my hands off of you?”

“Probably. I should have warned you, and I’m sorry for that.”

Keith whirled around again and pulled his chin down so that they were eye-to-eye. “You didn’t know. You said it happens rarely in hybrids, and that you’ve never experienced it. So you couldn’t have known, so it’s not your fault.”

“The effects will wear off in a couple of weeks, anyway, and if you prefer, I can… be somewhere else, so you won’t… So you can know that your decisions are yours alone, and not the result of-“

Keith kissed him. “I already know they’re not. And even if they were… I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy, and I don’t want to lose that. But if you really want to go, I won’t stop you.”

“I don’t want to,” Lotor admitted.

“Then that’s that. You said it would wear off in a couple of weeks? Then we should enjoy it while we can.”

So perhaps it was the pheromones and some instinctual response from the primitive parts of his brain that made him this happy, but Lotor found that he didn’t really mind.

Even if he did, there was not a whole lot he could do about it. So there was no point in worrying about it.

“Lotor?”

“Yes, Keith?”

“I’m, uh, I’m going to go talk to Lance, and I’d like you to come with.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to him about something, but I’ve been ignoring it, hoping if I didn’t - Hoping the problem would go away. But it hasn’t, and he’s leaving tomorrow, so… And I think you might be able to give some insights of your own. You’re good at reading people.”

Lotor stood, stretched; Keith didn’t so much as make a face this time. “What is this about, Keith?”

Keith grimaced. “Shiro.”

Of course. Gods, Lotor envied what Keith and Shiro had had. If only someone had given a shit about him, then… “Do you think Lance will be forthcoming with me there?” Lotor asked.

“I thought -he implied that you two had come to some sort of understanding. Anyway, it’s about Shiro. He idolizes Shiro; he’d do just about anything for him.”

“Like you would.”

Keith’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “Yes,” he breathed finally. Then, back in his normal humor, “I’m not bringing you along so you can read me.”

“You make it so easy,” Lotor teased. “You might not say much, but you don’t need to. I can always tell what you’re thinking.”

Keith crossed his arms. “It’s already late, and Lance is a bitch if you wake him up. Come on.”

Lance, apparently, had been in the process of getting ready for sleep, based on his pale green face mask and the bathrobe he was wearing.

It reminded Lotor a little too much of the nights aboard his cruiser with his generals, when he’d honestly thought- when he’d hoped-

“I want to talk to you,” Keith said.

“I’m going to bed,” Lance grumped.

“It’s about Shiro.”

“You couldn’t have done this earlier? And you had to bring Mr. ‘I’ve Never Had So Much As A Single Zit In My Life’ with you?”

“Between multiple heart surgeries, a brief stint on dialysis, and an eye correction surgery, I had enough problems while I went through puberty,” Lotor drawled, his arms crossed. “Thank all the gods I had clear skin, because otherwise I’m not sure what I would have done.”

“Yeah, well-”

“That’s enough,” Keith said sharply. “And no, I wanted to make sure we won’t be interrupted. I’m having a pair of sentries monitor Shiro’s door.”

“Is that really necessary?” Lance asked. “We don’t even know what’s wrong with him.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Keith said. “So, please, can we talk?”

Lance looked back and forth between the two of them, then grimaced. “Yeah, come in.”

The guest rooms did not contain quite the same ascetic opulence of the Imperial Suite, but there was still seating enough for the three of them.

“So. You decided to follow up with our conversation from two weeks ago finally,” Lance said. “And right while I was in the middle of my nightly skin care routine. I assume you brought Lotor up to speed?”

“...Yes,” Keith said. “Have you talked to anyone else?”

“No. Who could I talk to? I knew you’d believe me, Keith, but…” He shrugged. “At least, I hope you believe me.”

“I believe something is not right with Shiro. We just don’t know if it’s… something malicious, or just. Just the war.”

“You said he didn’t come back quite right?” Lotor asked finally. “After his fight with me father?”

“He was missing for...months,” Keith said. “We looked for him, but it was like he was just....gone.”

Lotor frowned. “Gone how? I know you recovered the Black Lion, so did he get out and fight my father like that?” If he had, then Shiro was a much more impressive fighter than Lotor had suspected.

Keith shook his head. “He never left. At least, no one saw him leave. The cockpit was just...empty. Like he’d vanished into thin air.”

“The Black Lion has capabilities that the other Lions lack,” Lotor said thoughtfully. “Specifically in regards to the unexplainable mysteries of the universe. Like Altean alchemy. It is possible that he did, indeed, vanish into thin air. I imagine there were significant gaps in his memory?”

“There were.”

“Hmm. Are you absolutely certain that…” He was not sure how to phrase this. “Could he have been lying about his memory?”

“He didn’t like talking about it,” Lance said. “Which is totally reasonable.”

Fair enough. “So what did he say about it?”

“Just that he escaped, spent a while at a Rebellion listening post, then set out to find us in a stolen Galra fighter,” Lance replied.

“Did he escape? Or was he let go?” Lotor mused aloud. Internally, things were beginning to come together. “His ‘escape’ may have been staged for his benefit and yours. He may not even realize what he is. Just that… Just that something isn’t quite right.”

“Then what is he?”

“I don’t have proof of this,” Lotor said, “but I know of a secret druid project. I was never able to get very much information about it, but I do know that Haggar has always been very interested in mind control.” He never thought she’d use it against him, but well. Certain events had proved otherwise.

“You think Shiro’s being mind-controlled?” Lance asked.

“It’s a possibility. The Galra-tech of Shiro’s arm could make him susceptible, but I will admit that I don’t know very much about druidry. Haggar was careful not to leave notes on her current projects in the lab aboard this ship, but I’ll see what I can find.”

He glanced over at Keith, who had been quiet the last several minutes. Keith was frowning. “You know more about the druids than we do.”

“Well, yes.” He briefly debated saying more, before deciding on full disclosure. “I was a very sickly child, and I was in the care of the druids until I was old enough for my father to take an interest in my education. I...learned a great deal, but that was primitive druidry. I imagine the art has come a long way in ten thousand years.” He sighed. “The komar, for instance. I could perform an old variation, an inefficient one, but the witch has managed to perfect the ritual.”

Keith lifted his eyebrows. “You can do the komar?”

“I know how,” Lotor said a little crossly, “but I won’t. It’s...barbaric.”

“So basically, you’re saying you don’t know what’s possible anymore? As far as the druids go,” Lance said.

“The druids are very secretive, and intensely loyal to Haggar. No one really knows what’s possible.”

Keith sighed. “Look, we’re not getting anywhere. It’s late, and I know you guys are leaving early in the morning. So, Lance, you keep an eye on Shiro, Lotor will go through Haggar’s lab, and I’ll… you know. Ok?”

Lance nodded. “You keep in touch, ok? Pidge gave you that comm for a reason.”

“I will.”

“Good. We’re gonna miss you, buddy, but I guess it’s time to go back to saving the universe.”

“You do that, Sharpshooter.”

Haggar’s lab was… Well. It was ten thousand years old. Future historians would kill for a chance like this, but Lotor was of a mind to burn the whole thing down the second he was done.

He would have, too, if not for the fact that he was on a spaceship.

Being there with Allura hadn’t been so bad. She didn’t know the significance of most of it, and she only really cared about anything that had to do with Altean alchemy. The rest… The rest she had ignored.

He couldn’t.

He tried anyway. It would take weeks to go through everything as it was, but if he had to stop every five minutes because he couldn’t leave his childhood behind him like any reasonable person, then it could take years. And by then, it would be too late.

Haggar wouldn’t wait that long. Whatever she was planning, whether or not Shiro was involved in some way, she undoubtedly had a plan.

She’d picked Sendak for a reason. She’d thrown his heritage in his face for a reason. She’d spied on him for a reason. She didn’t act without reason.

It all fit together, but there were too many pieces missing for him to see what she was planning.

When he could no longer ignore the overwhelming dread her lab filled him with, he left and sought out Keith.

He wouldn’t let her take him, too.

#the purple flame #keitor #vld keith #vld lotor #vld lance #not my space dad #the keith-lance friendship is very important to me #thinking about lotor makes me sad sometimes bc he deserves so much good but does he get it? no #i will eloborate on some of the things lotor talks about in later chapters #i got u

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sabraeal · 7 years

Text

Do Not Go (Where I Cannot Follow): Part 3

It’s too bright here.

The light burns, it sears, and he cannot escape it. He has no body with which to shutter his eyes, with which to turn away. He is lighter than flesh, lighter than air, in a place where none of it matters because it is only him and the light. Whatever bonds tether him to the earth cannot touch him here.

He hates it.

Even without a body he struggles, he shakes, he strives. He doesn’t know this place, doesn’t want it. He needs to be with Miss, needs to keep her safe --

You’re all right.

That voice shakes him down to his bones, thrumming in his blood. He knows it, knows it in a deeper way than just simple recognition. This voice has unmade and then made him anew. It fills the cracks in him where shadows hide.

He has to reach it, has to find it, has to let it make him again. He surges against what binds him, fighting with whatever momentum he can make. He is an arrow in flight, he cannot be stopped.

Without coming any closer, the presence touches him, a cool hand to flesh that is no longer, and it --

It is thunder rolling through him; he is the world anew after a storm when it is finished, when it has filled him.

You are safe, Obi.

Ah. Ah, he should have know. It all makes sense now.

He is dead, finally.

All his struggles cease.

The pain is what wakes him, the second time.

A breath expands the cage of his ribs, and, ah, it is like death by a thousand cuts how every part of him tears. There can’t be this much pain in death.

So he’s alive. Good to know.

Obi peels his eyes open; like cloth left to dry over a wound, it hurts with every inch.

Ah, gods, but it’s bright in here. The blinds to every window are thrown open, letting in the rare Lyrias sun. He should be grateful -- he’s missed the damn thing, this past winter -- but all he can do now is blink away the afterimages burned onto his eyes, cussing softly. This is Miss’s doing, he can just tell.

Closing his eyes, he tilts his head away from the windows. When they open again, it’s Miss who fills his vision, body contorted awkwardly on her chair. Her knees are dragged up to her chest, one arm wrapped around her shins as she leans into the wooden arm. Her head rests against the nightstand, crimson strands spilling over the white cloth. Her other arm is outstretched, fingers tangled loosely in his.

He only feels them now, now that he’s looked down and reminded himself he’s got a body to keep track of. Her hand is so tiny in his, so pale. Her arm’s got to be numb by now, if she’s been sitting like that all night.

The light of morning gives her face a golden flush, and he should wake her, but -- but it’s like this where she most matches the portrait of her that he keeps in his heart; something earthly and strong, wise but not hardened. If only he could see her as Master does, as something ethereal and above reproach. It’s easy not to touch a woman on a pedestal, but when she stands beside him on solid ground --

It’s up to him to remember how far above him she is. And his miss makes it so easy to forget.

Her eyelashes flutter against her cheek, deep in dream. He could watch her forever like this, listening to the steady ebb and flow of her breath, seeing how the sunlight dapples her skin -- but there is a furrow in her brow, a tight set to her mouth. The night must have been rougher than he remembers. She’ll be eager to see her hands did good work.

His fingers are stiff, but it’s nothing to squeeze her hand, to rub a thumb over the slender bones that lie under the smooth silk of her skin. She snorts softly, startling awake. Her eyes immediately trace the line of her arm to his, and then up his chest to his face.

“Obi.” His name is little more than a breath, wrapped in the bleariness of sleep. “Am I dreaming?”

He perks up at that, eyebrows nudging his hairline. “Why, Miss, do you dream of me often? And shirtless, no less.”

A weak laugh bursts out from her, and she blinks the sleep from her eyes, . “You’re all right.”

He lifts his hand, gesturing to the mess of bandages that litters his chest. “Well, I’m not dead.”

What humor is in her face pulls flat. “It’s certainly not from trying.”

There’s a story in those words, a long night hiding behind the blankness of her mask, and he wants to reach out to her, wants to assure her he is here with her but --

But everything hurts. He’ll probably scream when he has to get up to piss. “What happened?”

Her mouth bears down in a grimace. Ah, perhaps he doesn’t want to know. “What do you remember?”

It’s more effort to recall the night before than he expects. The blade in his gut -- that’s vivid -- and so is laying in the clearing, Miss’s hands pressed tight to his wound. It gets fuzzy there, like the words they spoke together are packed with cotton. The sick room is familiar too, her hand threaded through his --

“Did you say you’d have Ryuu help poison me?” He shakes his head. “No, that’s can’t be right. You’d never tell me first. Too sloppy.”

A laugh huffs out of her. “So you remember after your surgery?”

“Barely.”

She nods, as if she expected it. “You were tired. I thought it was the sedative, but I should have noticed...”

There’s dark circles under her eyes, and a sickly pallor to her skin, and -- and this all happened in a night. “Miss --”

“Infection set in not long after that.” She recites the events as if they happened to someone else, as if she were giving Shidan her report. “Some of the flesh must have been...”

Her hand tightens around his. Her other is bone-pale where it clutches her skirt. “We lost you for a moment, in the middle of the night. It was --” Her voice breaks now, finally, and it is a deluge the way both words and tears come now. “It was only Ryuu who – we tried compressions, but nothing would start your heart, and he – he had isolated a compound –”

She bows her head, hair falling like a curtain around her face. He doesn’t miss the way her breath comes in staccato bursts, the wet spots that appear on her skirt.

“Ah, Miss, it’s all fine now.” He squeezes her hand. “It will take more than a little death to kill me. You should know that.”

Her laugh is real now, even if it’s a little watery, and she looks up at him with grateful eyes. “I should.”

“That makes sense, though,” he continues. “I dreamed about you in bed with me.”

He expects her to laugh at that too, to confirm that the memory her warmth against his side is nothing more than a wish of a dying mind but --

Her cheeks flush. “Ah, that would be…the other time you woke up.” She clears her throat, “Before you rudely tried to die in the middle of a conversation.”

His grins at that. “I must have been about to give up my secrets.”

She falls curiously quiet. “You already did…” she murmurs, voice strangely lilted. “…Kage.”

His hands seize on the blankets. He couldn’t have – he wouldn’t –

“It was a phase,” he groans, “I was ten. It sounded…intimidating.”

“I’ve known dogs named Kage,” she supplies helpfully. The corners of her mouth twitch tellingly.

He moans; if it wouldn’t risk ripping a few dozen stitches, he’d bury himself in the pillows. Now he understands why Master hates Sir giving away even an inkling of his childhood. He wishes he could go back and slap himself for being so embarrassing.

“I looked for you for weeks.” Her jaw sets sternly, as if she -- as if she really cared about the little boy that gobbled down her snacks. As if she wondered what happened to him after he left her sight.

He snorts. Of course she did. She wouldn’t be his miss if she didn’t.

“You should have told me – I don’t even –” Her hands wave in frustration, trying to get the words out. “When did you know?”

“Tanbarun.” There’s no use in lying, not now. “I suspected in the greenhouse, with the roku berries, but I didn’t know – not until the mountains. When we went to the village.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“I tried,” he protests, “but Master and Sir…”

There’s no use throwing blame around. Even if he hadn’t then, he’d had ample time since. He was just...a chicken about it. “I should have.”

“Yes.” She leans forward, and he raises his head to make it easier for her to feel his forehead --

Heat flood him as her fingers sink into the thick bristle of hair, nails scraping just over his scalp. It must be an accident, she can’t possibly --

Her palm flattens against his skull, brushing soothing circles through his hair. It isn’t a mistake, not at all. “You should have. I worried.”

He can’t help himself; he leans into her touch, content as a cat. “Even now?”

Her smile is soft. “Always.”

A comfortable silence lapses between them, and he is content to let her touch him like this, to let her soothe him with the gentle brush of her hand through his hair. But this is not for him. Not his.

“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out the window. “Any other awful confessions I made at death’s door.”

The silence becomes heavy, and – ah, gods, he knows himself too well. Please, don’t let him have said something about his cock –

“You told me that you loved me.”

He balks. There are some things he knows he wouldn’t even admit under a torturer’s knife, but -- but --

She will not look at him, and his miss would never lie, not about this.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “You were never supposed to know.”

Her body goes absolutely rigid, hand dropping to the mattress.

“There’s no reason for it to change anything,” he assures her, gripping her hand harder. “This is -- is my problem, not yours, and –”

“It’s fine.”

“And there’s no reason for you to –”

His lips are stopped by three fingers laying atop them. The mattress dips, and she is beside him, up on her knees, looking at him with the with the intensity she’s always saved for her books.

“Obi, it’s fine.” Her gaze drops, suddenly shy. “It’s fine because I…uh…”

Her jaw works, wrangling with the words, at a loss. He smiles, more fond than he should, and he want to put her out of her misery --

But he can’t. Now when her fingers are replaced by lips, slotted softly between his own.

He’s frozen, paralyzed. He should push her away, he knows he should, but – but –

But he’s never been very good at doing what he should. His fingers twine in her hair, pulling her closer instead. Her breasts brush his bare chest, and he -- he’s only human. It’s just a small grunt, barely noticeable.

She pulls away with a gasp. He shouldn’t be so proud of how flushed she is, how swollen her lips, but -- well, he is.

“I don’t know what I feel,” she says, so softly against his lips. “Besides that I’ve been wanting to do that since you started breathing again. Maybe –” her brow furrows. “Maybe longer.”

Obi doesn’t have words. He wants to kiss her again, wants to see if he can leave her without breath to speak, but -- but now is not the time for that.

“I don’t know what will come of it,” she admits, and his traitorous rabbit heart pounds inside his chest. “But it’s not nothing.” She’s sure he’s looking at her when she says, “And I think it might be something.”

She sighs, sitting back, gingerly resting her head over his heart. “I need time.”

His hand brushes through her hair, pushing back the wisps at her forehead so his lips can brush the soft skin there.

“You have all the time in the world,” he tells her, heart so full he’s afraid it will burst like a damn in spring. “I’m in no rush.”

Her breath hitches, and she lifts her head to meet his gaze. “Thank you.”

She’s so close he can feel her breath rush over his lips, feel the heat of her against his cheek, and, well --

What harm is there to overflow?

Miss is silent for a long while.

“Don’t do something so reckless again,” she says, words muffled by his chest.

“I can’t promise that,” he tells her, and she looks up. “Surely you understand now, Miss.” He presses his forehead to hers. “I couldn’t let you come to harm.”

Her hand wraps around his. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. Something I could stop.”

Her breath rushes out of her, resigned. “I suppose we’ll both have to be more careful.”

He grins, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “Now, now, Miss. Let’s not make a habit of making promises we can’t keep.”

#obiyukiweek17 #day 3 #obiyuki #my fic #ans #never have i been yelled at as much for a fic #as i have been for this one #so hopefully you all like where this ended up #*waggles eyebrows*

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lesbianlametron · 7 years

Text

Kagehina Day 4

((A VERY late day 4...I didn’t want to half-ass this one so I took extra time on it. I’ll try to have both day 5 & 6 later on today as it’s now Friday here. RIP my always behind self))

Title: As Long As You’ll Let Me

Prompt: Favorite AU/Kisses

Rating: T

Summary: It’s the last day of summer holidays and the couple is stuck inside while Kageyama finishes his summer homework. It doesn’t take long for Hinata to get antsy and started begging for attention. A bit annoyed with his boyfriend, Kageyama sends him out on an errand, promising kisses when returns. (This one get a bit angsty...so you’re warned)

It was the last day of their summer break and there was a tense silence in the room. Okay, maybe not for Kageyama, but Hinata was tense. They were going back school after today and they were going to be busy. They should be spending it outside or on a date or something. The last day and Kageyama was sitting beside him on his bed, doing school work. No part of him was even touching Hinata. Just like a rock breaking the surface of a lake, Hinata promptly, and loudly, broke the silence. “Tobiooooo.” Hinata whined, stretching himself across his lap, scattering all of Kageyama’s papers.

“Shoyo! I’m in the middle of something, dumbass!” Kageyama tried to push him off, but was completely unsuccessful. Hinata wrapped his arms around Kageyama’s hips, hanging on for dear life.

“Tobio, pay attention to me. Come on, this our last day of freedom. The least you can do is spend right now with me.”

“I told you to wait. If I don’t do my summer homework now, I’ll be screwed. I’m almost done.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago, can’t you just finish it later?” Hinata pouted up at him, trying to make his lips as appealing as possible.

“And I told you not come over until 4. You got here at 3, you loser.” Kageyama grumbled, but his resolve was slipping a little. Hinata was too cute sometimes, and Kageyama couldn’t resist him for much longer, and Hinata fucking knew it.

“I got excited.”

“So, unlike you.” Kageyama deadpanned. “Why don’t you go to the convenience store and get us ice cream or drinks?” He pulled his wallet out of pocket, with great difficultly since Hinata had not loosened his grip one bit. Out of spite, he dropped it on Hinata’s face. “I’ll be done by the time you get back, dumbass. If you keep distracting me, this will only take longer.”

“Ow. You’re so mean.” Hinata was forced to let go to grab the wallet and he reluctantly sat up. “Kiss me before I go.”

“You’re such a pain.” Kageyama leaned in but stopped short, “no. I’ll reward you after your errand, not before.”

“Maybe I won’t go then.” Hinata crossed his arms and pouted like a child who hadn’t got their way. He tried to close the space between them, but Kageyama clapped his hand over Hinata’s lips, splaying his fingers over his face.

“No kisses then.” Kageyama glared at him, not backing down one bit, although he did let go of his face. Smirking, he bent over to pick up his scattered papers.

“Then I’ll just kiss your cheek instead.” Hinata leaned in, but his lips own met a waxy, paper material. He opened his eyes and saw he was kissing Kageyama’s blue history folder. It had gone up as a barrier in between them. Hinata didn’t have to see Kageyama’s face to know he was stifling his laughter with a giant smirk on his face.

“I said no. Go little errand boy.”

“I hate you.”

“It’s even my treat, you baby.”

“That’s not the point! I want my hello and goodbye kisses from you!”

“You’re coming right back. Don’t be so dramatic. It’s exhausting.” Kageyama rolled his eyes, “besides you’re forgetting that I’m giving you kisses when you get back.”

“Ugh…fine!” Hinata groaned loudly and got off the bed as slowly as possible, glaring at Kageyama the entire time.

“Why aren’t you doing your homework last minute anyway? Don’t tell me you’re being a dumbass and not doing it.”

“I did it last week with Yama and Tsukki. We invited you, remember?” Hinata flatten his hair against head, and put on his best uninterested Kageyama face. “‘I’ll do it later, we’ve got plenty of time.’ Remember you said that?”

“I keep forgetting that Saltyshima lets you study with them now that you and Freckles are friends.”

“You could call them by their real names, you know.”

“Nah. Now go get the snacks.” Kageyama waved him off, reminding him that he did not forgot them.

“Fine. You better give me a bunch of kisses when I come back.”

Kageyama purposefully ignored him and was pretending to focus on his work. Hinata rolled his eyes and blew, very sarcastic, kisses at the top of Kageyama’s head. “Love you too, rude-y-yama”

It only took Kageyama another 30 minutes to finish his homework. The convenience store was close by and Hinata had his bike so he should be back soon. Kageyama sent him a quick text to tell him to hurry up and then started playing a random game on his phone.

He looked at his clock a bit later, 45 minutes since Hinata had left. Maybe there was just a long line or something.

An hour had passed and Kageyama started to worry. He hurriedly dialed Hinata’s number, but the phone only rang once before it went to voice mail. Now he was really worried. Hinata wouldn’t have turned his phone off and he never ignored Kageyama phone calls. Even when they were in fight or annoyed at each other, Hinata always picked up the phone. In those instances, Hinata would tell him he was not talking to Kageyama and then hang up. On rare occasions, he absolutely couldn’t answer a call, he would at least send a text. This was bad. Kageyama felt in the pit of stomach and dread was growing inside him like a weed. Prickly and completely unwanted. He was about to get up to go search for Hinata when he ran into his mother in the doorway.

Her face was pale and Kageyama’s stomach dropped. “Tobio, honey, I just got off the phone with Shoyo’s mother. He was on his way back here from the store. Someone ran a red light and hit him while he was crossing the street on his bike.”

Kageyama dropped his phone and felt ice cold and burning hot at the same time. He’d been so mean to Hinata…what if that was the last time…? NO. I can’t think about that right now. “I-is he going to be all right?”

“They don’t know yet. I’ll drive you to hospital, let’s go.” Kageyama nodded numbly and followed after her like a zombie. They were silent on the way the hospital, but Kageyama’s head was anything but quiet. This was all his fault. He was a bit frustrated with the way Hinata had been pestering him. He forced him to go to the store. He refused to kiss him.

Kageyama’s mother kept giving him worried glances, but didn’t say anything. She could tell Kageyama was still processing everything. She also knew that Hinata was Kageyama’s first friend that cared about him outside of his volleyball skills. Hinata meant the world to him and she was so happy for her son when the two of had started dating. Hinata seemed to bring out the best in her son. Her heart was breaking for him, but from the look on his face, he didn’t even register that she was next to him.

Kageyama’s fists were clenched so tensely and tightly in his lap that he was sure his nails were leaving half-moon indents in his palms. Every breath he took was shallow and shuddering. His world was collapsing in on him and there was nothing he could do about it. He had very few friends because of his attitude, but that never mattered to him. Hinata had been different. He was never just his friend. Hinata took all of his anger, frustration, insults and awkward praises and gave them right back to him. Never did Hinata accept other people’s opinions of him. He made his own. He accepted all of Kageyama’s personality and loved him. Kageyama wasn’t sure he was ever going to find that again if something happened to Hinata.

NO. Stop that! I can’t think like that. Hinata would stay positive. He’s so damn good at that.

Kageyama barely registered it when the pulled up to the hospital. He relied on his muscle memory and followed his mother in like he was on autopilot. He had completely shut down. His mother went over to talk with Mrs. Hinata, but he didn’t try to listen in. Yes, he did want to know Hinata’s state, but he was too numb. He got Hinata into this, he didn’t deserve to know.

“Tobio?” Hinata’s mom sat down in the chair next to him. “I’m so glad you’re here. He’ll need you when he wakes up. I know you’re blaming yourself right now, but it’s not your fault. He won’t see it that way either. I promise.”

Hinata’s mother was just like him, a bright ray of sunshine and positivity. Kageyama hadn’t even thought about what Hinata would say to him. What if he did blame Kageyama for the accident? What if he cast Kageyama out of his life? Kageyama loved being a setter so much more when he was setting for Hinata. He couldn’t bare it if they were at odds. He didn’t want to break up, far from it. Deep down, he was desperate and needy for Hinata. Until the day Hinata decided to part ways, Kageyama would cling to his side. Everyone would say the opposite, that Hinata was the clingy one. That without Kageyama, Hinata wouldn’t that great of a volleyball player, but it was really the other way around. Kageyama didn’t discount his talent as a setter, but he wouldn’t have come this far without Hinata.

“The doctors just spoke with us before you got here. Shoyo is going to be fine. He’s just in surgery right now. It’s minor, just to fix a fracture in his leg. Everything else is pretty minor as well, just cuts in scrapes, but he does have a pretty severe concussion. Our Shoyo got lucky.” She tried to be encouraging and gave a little smile. She, like his mother, was very supportive of their relationship. She had treated Kageyama like family since day one. She knew Hinata’s feelings probably before Hinata even did. Mrs. Hinata swallowed thickly before continuing. This was the start of the bad news.

“He’ll probably miss the first week of school…and be out of volleyball for a while.” It was then that Mrs. Hinata’s voice grew weaker and her tone was dripping with despair.

He was alive, but they both knew volleyball was Hinata’s world. No one loved volleyball as much as Hinata. Except for maybe Kageyama, but he only played to such extremes when practicing with Hinata. Everything was always better when they were together. No understood him the way Hinata did and he wouldn’t want them to. Karasuno were just coming off championship, all eyes were going to be on them this year. They couldn’t afford to lose their best decoy. Tanaka would kill him when he found out. He was still adjusting the captain position as it is.

Kageyama got up and stalked off down a random hallway. He needed to be alone for a bit. Everything was messed up. Kageyama walked until he hit a dead end, staring down a shitty coffee machine and sparse vending machine. A frustrated, heartbroken scream ripped its way out of Kageyama’s throat. He slammed his fist in the wall, not hard enough to do damage to it, but to at least feel it. Clenching his teeth together, he tried to stop the tears that threatened to spill over, but the pain demanded to be felt. Kageyama slid down against the wall and curled in on himself, trying to take up as little space as possible. Once the tears and sobs started, they were impossible to stop. It was like opening flood gates or a raging storm, it would pour until it was over.

Shoyo…FUCK! What do I even say to you? I will never let you fucking leave again without a kiss. How could I be so stupid? I can’t be a good senpai to the new first years without you. I’ll blow up at everyone. You’ll probably miss out on half the season because of me. What if your leg doesn’t heal right and you can’t jump in the same way? …what if you don’t want anything to do with me after this? I’m so selfish, that would be the worst thing in all of that. I know…I know without you I’m just a setter with a shitty attitude. I thought maybe we’d go to university together or something.

The longer Kageyama stewed in his state of despair, the more irrational his thoughts became. He feared more than anything about regressing to the person he used to be in middle school. The one who’s whole team abandoned. He owed everything to Karasuno. To Hinata.

“Tobio. Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Kageyama looked up at the sound of his mother’s voice. The tears had long since dried on his face, but his eyes were still puffy and red. “I needed to be alone.” Kageyama’s voice came out raspy and barely more than a whisper.

“I know. He’s okay, honey. He’s asking for you.”

Kageyama nodded and slowly stood up, following after his mother. His stride was slow and jumpy, as if he was ready to run the minute Hinata rejected him. He froze in the door way the moment his eyes landed on Hinata. His leg was wrapped in a white cast that extended from his mid-thigh to cover his whole foot. Only his toes were visible. His arms were covered in bruises and random stark white bandages, stained slightly with bright red blood. Hinata looked a bit better than he anticipated, but not by much. Kageyama barely registered his mother giving his arm a reassuring squeeze before leaving them alone.

Hinata smiled at him the minute their eyes connected. It made Kageyama’s heart ache in his chest. He didn’t deserve to be looked at like that. “Tobio~ why are you standing all the way over there? Don’t I deserve my reward kisses? I didn’t finish the errand, but—”

“Don’t fuck with me. Aren’t you mad at me? This is my fault!” Kageyama didn’t want to yell at Hinata. It was the last thing his beautiful, sunny boyfriend deserved, but he couldn’t help it. There was just no way Hinata wouldn’t hate him.

Hinata tilted his head in the way he always did when he was confused. The way that Kageyama found so endearing. “What? It’s not like you ran me over with a car. I came over before I was supposed to. I was bothering you. Maybe you could have been nicer,” he paused to stick his tongue out at Kageyama, “but I’m not mad.”

“But you wouldn’t have gone to the store if I hadn’t made you!” Kageyama ran his fingers through his hair, completely exasperated at Hinata’s responses. “You broke your leg, dumbass. Your LEG! The main part of your volleyball game. You’ll be out of volleyball for weeks!”

Hinata deflated and nodded sullenly. “Ugh. Don’t remind me! But, I’ll be able to make a full recovery with physical therapy.” Hinata pouted at him, “I’m injured, Tobi, please come here.” He patted the bed, beckoning him over with his eyes.

Kageyama sighed and finally gave in and crept over to the bed. He sat perched on the edge, still not fully relaxed or convinced that he should be forgiven so easily. “Sho. I’m so sorry.” Kageyama mumbled, still too afraid to face his boyfriend.

“Tobi, it’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. It’s the asshole, who ran a red light’s fault.” Hinata reached over and took Kageyama’s hand. He laced their fingers together and pressed Kageyama’s up to his lips kissing them gently. “I was so scared and do you know what I thought before I passed out?” He waited and Kageyama slowly shook his head. “How melted your ice cream would be when I got it back to you.”

“You did not.”

“I did. You were working so hard on your summer homework despite me distracting you. I just wanted your attention. I always want your attention, Tobio.” Hinata yanked a bit on Kageyama’s arm, trying to get him to turn around. “Now will you look at me? You had to have finished your homework by now.”

Kageyama let out a breath through his nose that was halfway between a sigh of relief and a laugh. Finally, he turned around and looked Hinata in the eye. “I love you, dumbass. I don’t know why you’re not mad at me, but I’ll take it.”

“I love you. That’s why.”

“You do.” Kageyama leaned in and gave Hinata a slow, gentle kiss.

“More. I deserve so much more than that.”

“So needy.” Kageyama teased but leaned in again for a deeper, slightly desperate kiss. Hinata placed a hand on Kageyama’s face and stroked his cheek as they kissed. It was perfect and Kageyama didn’t like it at all. He loved it. I’ll never be able to give you enough kisses for what you deserve, but I can try. I’ll kiss your dumb, soft lips as long as you’ll let me.

Hinata pulled away first and stared at Kageyama, still cupping his face. “You better come over every day after school the days that I’m absent.”

“Fine.”

“Will you be the first to sign my cast?” Hinata nodded to the brand-new pack of permanent markers on the bedside table. “Mom bought them.”

Kageyama smiled and pulled the blue marker out of the pack. It was Hinata’s favorite color and he knew Hinata would appreciate it. It was sappy and stupid, but Kageyama knew Hinata’s favorite color was blue because of his eyes. It was stupid and cheesy, but then again Kageyama’s favorite color was orange because of Hinata’s hair. He didn’t even hesitate before he wrote it. As long as I’m here you’re invincible…dumbass. It made Hinata laugh a little and Kageyama couldn’t help but smile as he signed his name underneath.

“My mom will be upset that you wrote a swear on my cast.”

“I had to. It’s kind of our thing now.”

Hinata rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. “It is.”

((Yes, Hinata makes a fully recovery to volleyball in time for their second year Spring playoffs :P))

#kagehina week 2017 #haikyuuwriters #haikyuu!!#kagehina #a very late day 4 #my writing #prompt: kisses #fluff and angst #happy ending of course #will eventually be uploaded to ao3

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televinita · 7 years

Text

Zoo, 3.03 (super late)

Once upon a time I posted one short Feeling Explosion in the middle of this episode, then forced myself to stop and deal with a work-nado, and before I could claw my way back I heard "Welcome to the O.C., bitch," and that's the last thing I remember before waking up from my coma 6 weeks later. That's my story and I’m sticking to it. Claims that I may have woken up briefly to comment on bits of episodes 4 and 8 are unsubstantiated because officially, until last night I had not yet finished episode 3. (and that is the actual truth. I technically got to the end and a bit beyond, but only because I tore both apart for Mitch/Jamie content just like I feared I would and left the rest to spoil. Guilt may have played a part in my inability to come out of the coma.)

As I am Very Stubborn about not watching the next episode of anything until I have thoroughly spun the last one around in my head, dissected my feelings about it and processed them into text product, and I struggled with what to say, I got stuck in Zoo purgatory. But after an hour of freewriting, I think I have enough babble to feel content. This is mostly for me, but perhaps you’ll enjoy following my journey.

Originally Planned Opening Statement: Hey, remember when this show was was about weird mutant animals and not bizarre government conspiracies to abduct and experiment on children? Because I do. This is not the show I signed up for and it makes my soul feel gross.

(more evidence for the “why I had trouble moving forward” file, I think) Television Parents Council So we're three episodes in and I am really feeling like dramatic anguish is not Alyssa Diaz's strong suit in the acting department. It all feels kind of strained and forced? But hang on, I gotta go be way more outraged about her character's choices, as seen in this live reaction note: "WHAT IN THE FRICKITING FRACK DARIELA WTF. Is this* why you got divorced last time, 'cause I'm gonna have to assume it is seeing's as we literally never got any other reasoning for that random-ass info drop last year and I keep waiting for an explanation." *cheating on her husband

(and oh man, for the first time I am so glad it's these two who got the kid and not Mitch and Jamie, because can you imagine if I had to hear Jamie had cheated on Mitch with Logan and wrecked their relationship that bad? I would perform brain surgery on everyone with a power drill.) (nobody talk at me about the almost as distasteful thing that happened with them)

To be fair to Dariela, she and Abe mostly bonded over having a kid right after they met; I can't really say it feels like she betrayed an epic soulmate bond. I can muster up some sympathy for her feeling lonely and abandoned.)

Except that's not even her last horrible reveal of the episode*. What are you trying to do, run this character I miraculously chose to accept into the ground??

*possibly selling out Clementine to rescue her own kid from a sketchy situation. I will make a lot of allowances for putting yourself and your family's comfort and safety over the needs of strangers, but this does not fall under that header.

But, um, other than that, Papa Lion Abe is intense and amazing and I thought the whole desperate chase-after-the-military-convoy aspect was really well done.

----

Television Parents Council Pt. II Live Reaction Note: "Mitch is a testy bitch in this episode and I love him." (I remember this being debated, but part of the reason I love his Testy Bitch self is what you see at the end of the episode. If he doesn't wrap himself in defensive anger, cling to it like a buoy, the pain of confronting everything he lost and missed will win.) I really love Mitch's two seconds of happiness when he thinks Jamie raised Clem in her fancy penthouse and they ended up thick as thieves. I am less fond of the reality that Max took her away when she turned 14, so the only solace I can take away, before I spiral into that "who TF invited Logan to this party" post we started with is "SWEET HALLELUJAH AT LEAST JAMIE GOT OVER THREE YEARS TO BOND WITH HER." Also, Jamie is so the adult who gives the kids beer to supervise them. I still think it's hilarious that Mitch assumed any adult gave her a beer at 14, because don't most teenagers just have friends who come up with it? I mean, I couldn't even find alcohol on my college campus so I am not the authority on this by any means, but that is the impression I get from books. My point being, I like to think that even in the happy world where 2x12 is the series finale and they had a life together after, this would still have happened and he and Jamie would have had more than one clash regarding her blurring the line between parental authority and friend, and it would have sounded exactly like this, so...thanks Zoo, for accidentally fulfilling my Domestic AU interests in the weirdest possible way! Awww @ Mitch's impatient little "hey" when Clem casts doubt on Jamie's ability to perform brain surgery with a power drill, and then uses that particular tone of voice to tell her it's going to be fine. Awww @ Clem sticking up for Jamie's parenting skills. You know what, just assume that I loved any and everything else that happened when these three were on screen. And I maintain that Jamie, while willing to stop him if he gets too far out of line, also remembers very well what it's like to wake up with missing time where everything's changed and gone wrong, and that means he gets the time and space he needs, within reason, to lash out and come to terms with it while she waits for the worst of the storm to pass. She does point out when Clem's upset, and she checks him with "she turned out okay," but never once do I get the sense that she takes any criticism he lobs at her personally.

(I might have said this before. I tagged wrong and can’t find it.)

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

JKras and Emily Blunt's Alt Reality Doppelgangers (shhh just go with it)

Guess what I started shipping exactly two seconds before we went with the "slapping men across the face isn't domestic violence" trope on top of the "this one piece of information that is not about how you assaulted or killed someone in cold blood invalidates absolutely everything I love about you" trope. It's a two-fer of ship torpedoing. (How do you say no to that face! Look how tragic and sad it is on top of its normal rugged handsomeness and love for helping people! Also, guess who is probably gonna quit shippin' it and throw the lady right back out the door if/when she returns and eliminates Jackson's need to talk to the people I care about. That's just how I unfairly do. The Chloe-shaped hole in my heart won't heal, it's weird.) --------------- I LOVE YOU, MAN

And then this episode ends with Jackson's face lighting up at the sight of Alive!Mitch and glomping on him in a bear hug, and everything is right with the world now that my two faves are together again. ---------------

Yet More Thoughts

-Live reaction note: “I am glad to see that Mitch has shaved the beard and subsequently restored his powers of snark to full glory. They must have been suffocating under that thing.” -I loved Clem's montage of practicing how to tell her dad she's pregnant. These are useful sound bites for alternate takes.

-”Everything went wrong. The world went wrong.” This is somehow the most poetic thing I have ever heard on Zoo? Between the writing and her specific cadence, it sounds like something you'd hear in an award-winning speech, dressed up in voiceovers for trailers; IDK, I just really love it.

-Who even are you Abigail; your name and your hair make me want to get to know you but everything else (including my fandom girl-bros reacting to you with all the love they had for Logan last year and essentially forming a rousing chorus of "Don't need another You Part 2"), very much makes me want to not. -LOOK AT THESE GIANT UGLY WORM TUNNELING DINO-VULTURES, I LOVE THEM. -Mitch's JAMIE WHAT THE FUCK reaction to her stabbing her prisoner through the hand was pretty amazing. -In case you were wondering how appropriate for polite company my reaction to Jackson hotly threatening "I am gonna find you, and I am gonna stop you" is, the answer is "not very." -Quick question: how did Mitch's sacrifice save the world, exactly? I'm fuzzy on this. I wasn't tracking plot very well after Mitch "died" last year, but I thought it was a very personal sacrifice meant to save Clem alone.

-Well. That ending sounds like a fun little sophie's choice of "death vs. memory loss." Looking forward to seeing what episode 12 or 13 does with that. (If you kill him again, all the protection of "reality" in the world won't save you from the worm dino vulture pack I will summon to come after you.)

#cbs zoo comeback project

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lost-your-memory · 7 years

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Supergirl calling Cat at 4am. "We just rushed Katherine to the hospital!" You know how I love your angst right? Thank you Gane!

Hi dear. Now, this isn’t too angsty but it’s not happy either. I tried to stick to the characters because I really didn’t want to be OOC for this. Let me know if you like it!Little warning : minor character death.

It’s her quiet but persistent ringtone, that wakes her up.She groans, out of reflex, before opening her eyes and looking at the numbers the digital clock atop of her nightstand. It takes almost a full minute for her vision to stop being blurry with sleep and when she can finally make out the time, she stares.It’s 4 am on a Sunday morning.Her first thought is for Carter and she instantly feels her heart squeeze in her chest. It takes her two seconds to remember he’s sound asleep in his bedroom, at the end of the hallway.It’s only then that she can breathe again.The sound stops and she looks at her phone with a frown between her eyes. It rings again barely a minute later and she recognizes the ringtone this time. It’s a part of the song Over the rainbow, sung by Kara herself. Cat had recorded it without being seen on one evening when she had come home earlier than planned. Kara had been singing while cooking and Cat hadn’t been able to resist it.Since then, it’s the ringtone for when Kara call.Which she is doing right now, Cat realizes as she stares at the picture of Kara’s smile displayed on her screen. She reaches for the phone and picks up, already asking “Kara. What’s wrong, are you okay?”She still can’t shake the feeling of fear whenever Kara flies out of the window to save the day. Even though she is well aware that her lover is gifted with many superpowers, like being bulletproof for example, she worries and she’s never at peace until Kara is back in her line of sight.“I’m okay, Cat. I’m okay but … I’m in the hospital.” Kara starts and she sounds anxious, there’s an unusual edge in her usually bubbly and sweet voice. Cat’s heart drops again in her chest and she’s thinking irrationally for a few seconds, before remembering that Kara can’t go to a regular hospital. The realization makes her frown.“Did you blow up your powers again?” She asks and it’s a little sharper than she wanted to sound.

“Hum no I’m actually here as Kara Danvers-Grant this time … Cat, it’s your mother. She’s just been rushed into the ER.” Kara answers, slowly.Cat blinks and takes a look at her phone, wondering if she’s heard Kara right. She frowns and then puts it back against her ear.“I’m sorry, did you just say my mother has been admitted in a hospital?” She asks while looking at her clock and wondering if she’s still asleep and only dreaming that improbable conversation.“Yes.” Kara simply answers and Cat blinks again. She sees the minute change, going from 4:25am to 4:26am. Kara takes her silence as an invitation.“She’s in town for the week, something about an author throwing a big thank you party and she’s the guest of honor … A big fancy dinner really, with cocktail dresses, tuxedos, lots of champagne and French food … Apparently, she had a stroke towards the end, before dessert.” Kara explains, slowly. Her voice is calm and neutral, the unusual edge is gone. “They tried to call you but you wouldn’t answer so … they called me. I have no idea how they found out my number but they did. I was coming home after having handed an alien to the DEO when I got the call, I went straight in the hospital and I’ve been trying to call you ever since.”Cat stays silent, contemplating the strange calm that took over as soon as Kara talked about a stroke.She thinks life, and death, have a strange sense of humor.She’s always thought that her mother would die like she’s lived, in a grand show, making a lot of noise and holding on to her audience. She’s expected some kind of very rare and very long disease that would make Katherine looks like a martyr, something the woman could shove into everyone else’s face.After having suffered for so many years of her mother’s omnipresence, Cat never thought her mother, the person she often calls the wicked witch of the East, could just be gone in a matter of minute.“Cat? Babe, are you still there?” Kara asks and her voice is soft and tender. Cat focuses on it.“I’m here, I’m just … Surprised.” Cat settles for that word after a slight hesitation. It’s the truth, after all. She’s not angry, she’s not shocked, she’s not even worried, not in the slightest.“Uh … Do you want me to send a car to pick you up or … or do you want to stay at home and I will call you as soon as I know more about her condition?” Kara offers and Cat is tempted to jump on that solution. She knows it’s planned, of course. Kara thinks she’s being subtle but Cat just knows it.“I’ll be there in half an hour. I just need to wake up Carter and …” Cat trails off, a little unsure of what to do with her son. She doesn’t want to submit him to the stress of the situation and she absolutely doesn’t want him to ever put a foot in a hospital if he doesn’t need to.“Alex offered to come and keep an eye on him, that way you don’t even have to wake him up. She’s waiting for your text, she’s in the neighborhood.” Kara supplies and Cat marvels at Kara’s ability to always anticipate her every needs. She shouldn’t be surprised by now, not after their five years of marriage and seven years of being a couple.“Oh, that would be ideal yes. Although, I will wake him up to let him know what’s happening. I don’t want him to wake up to find Alex in the penthouse without having explained anything to him.” Cat replies and she can hear Kara’s hum of approval.“Okay babe, I’ll see you soon then. I will text you the information you need to find me and if I learn anything in the meantime.” Kara says and Cat hears a shuffling noise in the background. She narrows her eyes and purses her lips.“Kara, are you filling my mother’s medical paperwork?” She asks and it sounds threatening, she means it.“Hum, I, well, I know everything and I, you know … I figured, you know, that way it’d be something you won’t have to do?” The girl of steel stammers and stutters and Cat can’t help the smile that comes grace her lips. She wants to be mad at Kara for being so helpful and kind to someone who doesn’t deserve it but she knows it’s in her lover’s nature. It’s just how Kara is.“Fine.” Cat sighs. “I’ll be there soon.”“I love you.” Kara simply answers and she hangs up before Cat can reply.—In the car driving her to the hospital, Cat only sighs.Carter had been unhappy to be forced to stay in the penthouse when she had explained the situation to him. She swears he’s got something of Kara, sometimes.He’s kind, generous and his endless capacity to forgive always takes her aback. She doesn’t understand how he could forgive all the years his grandmother had missed on, the cold birthday cards, the absurd presents, the last minute cancellations and Katherine Grant’s whole attitude, barbs and criticism included.Her phone buzzes with a text and she smiles at the picture Alex just sent. It shows Carter, sound asleep on the couch and the TV in the background is playing The Wizard of Oz.It has become Carter’s favorite movie, ever since he listened to Kara explain why she loved it so much. Cat herself had warmed up to the film.The realization suddenly hits her that she doesn’t have one single happy memory of her childhood with her mother. She has some with her father, snapshots of happiness that keeps her company when she feels lonely or nostalgic but she has none with her mother.Cat lets out a dry chuckle.She’s come to accept the fact Katherine Grant never loved her.—“She’s still in surgery, they say they need to give her a new heart and …” Kara explains but she stops when Cat laughs. It’s so out of place, in the glowing waiting room of National City’s Hospital, that a few people frown at them and the looks thrown their way are outraged.“Cat?” Kara asks, confused and a little alarmed. Cat is still smiling when she focuses on Kara, taking in the worry in the deep, deep blue eyes, the anxious frown above them and the way she was biting her bottom lip, a tell-tale of concern.“It’s funny that she would need a new heart … I wasn’t aware she had one in the first place.” Cat smirks but her tone is devoid of all trace of humor. It makes Kara think twice before speaking again. She looks nervous this time, Cat notices.“Hum … They don’t have any … compatible heart at the moment so …” Kara winces when Cat starts laughing again and this time, they both hear the disapproving grumble of a few people. Kara swallows and then finishes “She might not make it out alive, Cat.”Cat tilts her head to the side and she looks right into Kara’s incredibly blue eyes. She sees worry, she sees love and she sees patience, with a sparkle of anticipation. It looks like Kara, sweet, lovely, incredible Kara, is waiting for something and Cat frowns because she can’t think of what.Then, it hits her.The full weight of life.It falls on her shoulders and takes her breath away. She feels her heart stop, her mind goes blank and some white stars blurry her vision. It makes her knees wobble.Kara’s there, in a split-second, putting her arms around Cat’s waist and Cat clings to her, curling her shaky fingers in the back of her wife’s pale blue shirt and holding on to it for dear life.She realizes, in the middle of her panic attack, that she is not ready to let go of all her questions, all her regrets and all that desperate need to know she is actually loved.—She falls asleep around 6am, curled in Kara’s arms on one of the uncomfortable plastic couches that fill the hallways and the waiting rooms across the whole hospital.She doesn’t sleep well.Her slumber is full of images that come straight from her memories and it’s half a dream, half a souvenir and it’s never happy. It often ends up with her being sad, frustrated or desperate for her mother’s approval, her mother’s affection, her mother’s attention. It’s all about her mother and when she wakes up at exactly 7:15am, she feels weak, confused and lost. She hates it.She leaves the comfort of Kara’s arms to go search for a coffee.Kara doesn’t try to stop her.She’s in the cafeteria and narrowing her eyes at the coffee choices when her phone starts ringing. Hit me with your best shot is the ringtone Carter had selected for Alex and the picture shows a funny picture of The Scarecrow, from the Wizard of Oz musical. Kara had been the one to put that image up to replace Cat’s initial choice of a Keep calm and pick up meme.“Yes Alex? Is Carter okay?” Cat asks immediately, a little worried about her son.“Relax, Carter is still asleep, I managed to carry him to his bed and he’s still sound asleep. I am making pancakes but I haven’t heard from you guys for a while so I was just … checking in. Are you okay, Cat?” Alex asks, rather bluntly but Cat is used to it by now. She actually finds Alex’s attitude refreshing.“So far, nothing and yes, I’m all right, thank you.” Cat answers, a little on edge because she’s exhausted, anxious and ready to kill for a coffee.“Listen, I know you have a shitty relationship with your mother.” Alex never tries to embellish things, it’s a wonder how Kara can be so sweet with a sister so brutally honest sometimes.“She’s in a bad shape and she might not get out alive but Cat, it’s okay if you don’t forgive her. It’s okay. You don’t have to erase years and years of unhappiness and bad memories just because she’s dying. Kara won’t tell you that, she’s probably going to try the opposite direction at some point and that’s why I wanted to call you. Whatever you feel, Cat, it’s valid and legit and it doesn’t have to change because she’s your mother and she might die.”Cat stays silent for a while, taken aback by those words. Alex doesn’t push and it allows Cat to realize how true it is. She’s scared she’ll never know if her mother actually did love her at some point but Alex’s little speech makes her think she can live without that answer. She doesn’t need to act like everything is forgiven just because Katherine Grant might die.“I … Thank you, Alex. I think you’re right, Kara might try to convince me I need to at least talk to her. She has a different point of view and we both know why that is.” Cat whispers, softly. She hears Alex’s groan of agreement.“Yes and it’s okay too. Whatever you want, whatever you need. Do what’s best for you, Cat. Not for a woman who made you feel like shit your whole life.” Alex states and Cat is torn between smirking or wincing at the bluntness this time. She opts for the first one.“Thank you, Alex. I’m going to get a coffee now and I’ll call you if anything changes.” Cat says and once Alex has acknowledged her, she hangs up.She’s calm, quiet and strangely at peace with herself when she comes back upstairs.—Katherine Grant dies at 8:30 on a Sunday morning.She goes without any fanfare and her last words were for the host at the party, something about the low quality of the Champagne.Cat thinks it’s typical.She’s calm and quiet on the way back to the penthouse and she can feel Kara’s concern, it’s radiating around her like a halo of heat vision. She thinks she should say something but she has no idea of what.Cat doesn’t know what to say to ease her wife’s worries because she doesn’t feel anything.Emptiness is the first word she can think of to describe her state of mind.She’s exhausted from too little sleep but not from her emotions because there isn’t one. No anger, no sadness, no bitterness, no fondness, she’s not even relieved. She probably should feel guilty for the last part.She doesn’t.—“You don’t seem affected, at all.” Kara says and her voice is soft and tentative as she sits on the couch next to Cat.They’re watching a movie Cat doesn’t even remember the title, nevermind the plot and Carter’s voice is echoing in the background, coming from the kitchen. He’s on the phone with Winn about a video game that just came.“It’s because I’m not.” Cat’s answer is clear and true. Kara looks at her and she tilts her head to the side, wonder etched across her features.“Kara, honey, I know you wanted me to at least try to talk to her in the end but … I don’t think I needed to. Katherine Grant was my mother yes, I know how you feel about this but you have to understand how I felt. What I had with my mother, it wasn’t just a bad relationship. It was deeper and worse than just a bad relationship, it left scars that I am still trying to overcome today, wounds that will never fully heal. I was, I still am, entitled to those emotions and I just didn’t see the point of pretending everything was fine just so she could die in peace.” Cat explains and she’s careful to be gentle and open because she knows how much of a sensitive spot it is for Kara.“I was never the daughter she wanted me to be, I made peace with that fact a long time ago.” She finishes with a soft smile, without any trace of regret of bitterness.Kara’s eyes seem to stare in the void for a moment but then she only shrugs and curls closer into Cat’s side.Cat takes it as a sign they’re okay.—The funeral is quick and not many people show up.It’s simple but elegant and the tombstone is beautiful.On the way back to the penthouse, after all is said and done, Carter suddenly starts laughing uncontrollably.Cat and Kara exchange a look of alarm and wonder.Kara is about to ask if he’s all right when Carter just starts singing.“Ding Dong! The Witch is dead … Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch! Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead …”

#sentences prompt #supercat #supergirl #supercat prompt #supergirl prompt #supercat ficlet #supergirl ficlet #tw: minor character death #kara x cat

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