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circulars-reasoning · 7 months

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Kindness and Anger

Look.

There is a major issue right now, in syscourse, about being too kind.

It's funny for me to say that -- after all, I'm the "respectability politics" syscourser, am I not? (And no, I have literally never forgotten that label being shoved on me). And the thing is, I really try not to be an asshole in syscourse, or overly pedantic, or just flat out mean -- because I'm a nice person, for fucks sake.

But that still doesn't negate that anger -- and yes, the occasional unkindness -- is needed. This constant shoving down of anger, this constant ridicule of passion and heat, is leading to a lot of incredibly traumatized people being incredibly hurt. Case in point: Me.

What follows is sort of half trauma dump, half vent, and all parts frustration that I'm trying to let out healthily. If you'd like the short version:

TL;DR: While syscourse can be harmful, it can also lead to a lot of joy. It can lead to new understandings. People telling me to back off, to not take it so seriously, are undermining a lot of that and echoing a lot of my past trauma. We should all be more willing to understand the impact these discussions have in real life.

I shoved down a lot of feelings these past few months. Shocker of all shockers, seeing lies being spread about myself and the people I love and the places I've worked to curate sort of pisses me off! But the message from everyone around me was "ignore the trolls, don't pay attention, don't engage--" And it promptly became translated into, "You aren't allowed to openly feel bad, and anyone being upset is a bad thing that needs to be fixed." I don't think this was intentional for many people. They were worried about me hurting.

But the issue was, these people -- traumatized people who have repeatedly been taught that their emotions are harmful -- were telling me that my emotions were harmful. Unsurprisingly, I suddenly was shoved back into this role of looking at and moderating every emotion.

I unmuted every vent room in every server I moderated for (and those I don't). I obsessively stalked many blocks I had blocked, simply to ensure I could brace myself for whatever thing might potentially upset someone else (not even myself -- I didn't care about those emotions). I even forced many of my friends -- the people who were watching me get hit and harassed and battered down every single goddamn day, who were worried about me, who wanted desperately to speak out against the heinous goddamn shit I was experiencing, who they themselves were experiencing -- to stay silent and bottle up their own emotions too.

You know what that all reminds me of?

Being available for those venting reminds me of that time I made sure notifications were on the night a friend sent me a suicide note -- one they later admitted was completely false, that they just were bored and wanted someone to talk to, and that would get me the most engaged. I was stressed by finals but instead of studying or taking care of myself, I stayed on the phone, texting with them for 3 straight hours, bawling my eyes out in fear. I was 18, and I never really grew out of this. I still sacrifice time and energy for people that not only don't deserve it, but who manipulate me into being there for them, no matter what. I don't know if I'll ever heal from that mentality.

Stalking the blogs I had blocked to make sure I knew everything, all of the time, no matter what? What a shocker for someone who memorized the squeaky spots on the floor, made sure to eavesdrop while walking silently through the house, learned to hide in the bathroom where they thought I couldn't hear them, made sure to open the window just a crack so I could hear them outside. To this day, I try to know everything, try to have google on hand, just in case someone asks me for more of my "somehow encyclopedic knowledge" on everything. People rely on me for that. I'm connected to everything, so nobody else has to be.

Making everyone else step back? How inventive, a traumatized person isolating themselves. I forced every single person around me (just like I always do) to pretend it was all fine, because if it wasn't all fine, then things would be bad, and if things were bad, I would melt down, and it would clearly be my fault, because wasn't it always, somehow, in the past?

(I'm still the most sorry about this one. I'm still trying to swallow that guilt and shame I have for letting it get that far, for hurting the people I love so much, just because I convinced myself I was just being stupid for being hurt, like I was always taught in my abuse. I'm so sorry to those of you who I forced to stay silent, just to keep the peace. You deserved so much better.)

Suffice to say -- it took removing myself from a lot of spaces for a cold shock to my system, splitting and not being able to be myself for a straight month, for me to even recognize this is what happened. It was so normalized for me, all my life. I had to emotionally regulate my parents, so it made sense that I had to emotionally regulate everyone else -- particularly when I was one of the people who was hurting.

All because "We can't let ourselves appear too angry -- that's not healthy for us."

As if how I became was healthy. As if the ball of anxiety and health problems I became, as if the nightmares and triggers I was experiencing were healthy. As if losing months at a time was fucking healthy for me. It took me until recently (and until today, writing this post, editing it, and reviewing it while panicking that I'm going to ruin everything if I ever post this) to even realize just how badly this hurt me.

I'm still flinching when I express a negative emotion to my partner. I had gotten over this. I had gotten better. Stabilized. But these past few months, forcing myself to be silent about my pain, forcing myself to not talk about anything negative... I slipped back. I let myself buy into the idea that my anger was ridiculous. That being so passionate was harmful. And look, Lord knows I've been vocal about how syscourse has hurt me. There were so, so many times where my anger took over, where I let myself become a person I look back on and cringe at, because that's just not who I want to be. But there's something called a window of tolerance -- or, as my queer ass therapist calls it, the rainbow of tolerance -- where you find a middle ground. You don't go to either extreme.

And I see a lot of major syscoursers lately (whether they consider themselves major or not) going to one extreme or the other, in their own ways.

In one camp, we have the polite overlords of kindness, hiding every shitty awful thing they say in a veneer of positivity and rainbows. Remarkably, no matter how nice something sounds, or how passionate someone is while being polite, it doesn't make it true, or somehow less harmful.

In another camp, we have the most obsessed goddamn people alive, raging about every little thing and making a post every 5 seconds about every little thing. The rage could be quiet or loud, but it's always just constant stirring of drama. (Looking at you, anti-endos posting incessantly recently about how much they hate endos...)

In yet another camp, and possibly the thing I want to address the most with this post, is those who are brushing syscourse off entirely. It's gaining more and more popularity nowadays. "How are you all caring so much about online discourse" types. "This isn't changing anything" types. The ones who insist that REAL activism happens in real life, and that this is so niche and small that it doesn't have any real impact to "just go and scream on tumblr about your feelings."

This is the one that's hurting me the most, right now, as I look back at a few years of being in syscourse. Because I managed to buy into it wholeheartedly these past few months. I managed to convince myself that this thing -- this place I love, the people I love -- were all wrong, and not only that, but were somehow self harming via this. That I was hurting myself by caring so deeply about misinformation, that I was actively self harming and encouraging others to do so, simply by engaging.

First and foremost: yes. Syscourse can absolutely be harmful. I am not trying to suggest it isn't. I have literally never suggested it isn't, and have vocally said it is harmful, multiple times, across several blogs.

Secondly, and far, far more importantly for this discussion: Syscourse can be beautiful.

I'm reminded of how I met a very, very dear friend -- @justanothersyscourse was the actual blog I'd talked to at the time -- and what I learned in that moment. I was sitting in a Covid testing line, terrified out of my wits, as a part who could barely comprehend anything he was reading online about disorders and dysfunction. He was trying desperately to understand, mostly because he had always been strong before, and now he felt so weak, being the way we were.

And he reached out to this major syscourser -- someone who seemed so angry about "something that's only online," about such a "niche topic that doesn't relate to the real world" -- and asked him, plainly, what was wrong with him. What was making him the way he was? Was everyone right about dysfunction and distress? Did he have to hate who he was just to be real?

And the overwhelming answer was, "No, and you are loved, because you exist, and you deserve it for that reason alone."

SAS didn't say as much in so many words -- actually there were a lot more words and sources thrown about, as well as olive branches all around. It burned me inside to reach out to him (he was anti-endo, after all, and I was not), but he still reached out to me with respect and kindness -- even if he sometimes acts immature, or rudely, or with language that would make a sailor blush.

I came out that day somehow feeling better than I had in years (despite, yes, having Covid). Because finally, a part of me understood... I wasn't broken. I didn't need to hate who I was, this fragmented self I was, because that's not what the criteria meant.

I want to ask each and every person who looks at syscourse with a disdain and dismissal, or who feels the need to post some swarmy holier-than-thou post about how above it they all are, or to remark on how everyone is too passionate and needs to take a step back, regardless of where they're actually at...

How in the 9 hells can I agree with you when I've had these experiences?

Again. I've been hurt by syscourse -- I feel the need to keep mentioning that, just because I know some of you fuckers are going to take this all to mean that I love syscourse too much, and that I'm too supportive of it, or god forbid that I'm fucking self harming by finally opening up about all of this. But the fact is, syscourse has helped me understand so much more about who I am, about the disorder I live with, and has led me to other avenues of research I never would've looked at otherwise. I've started studying Jung -- someone I had ZERO interest in before recently, I had to research far too much about him for my English degree as it is -- all because of the "Studies Proving Endogenic Systems" list I've been working through. I've started buying up self-help textbooks, because syscourse caused me to understand that my experience with therapists was NOT the norm, and most people DO need to work on self-help, and i wanted to understand their perspectives.

How is this not impacting people's lives?!

Of course I'm going to take this seriously. I take it as seriously as I take my teaching. I might not be changing the world, or changing laws. I might be working within a flawed system. But at the very least, if I can make one kid's life better -- give them someone like them to look up to, to relate to, who can give them the ability to make their own choices and learn more while advocating for myself -- then it's worth it.

And that's what I aim for in syscourse. If I can make one person -- singlet, system, plural, collective, whatever have you -- understand themselves or others a little bit better... Is that not, in it's own way, activism? Is that not, in it's own way, changing the world?

And if the answer is "no" then... what the fuck is the point of communication, or socializing, or trying to debate anything, anywhere?

Ugh. Lord, I've rambled so long, I can barely think about everything I've written. Bullet points time.

Syscourse can be harmful, and I won't say it isn't. As someone who has been obsessed with it in the past, who has used it to harm myself, and sometimes still does -- that harm doesn't go away on its own.

Syscourse is also beautiful. We CAN have good conversations, make close friends, and learn more about ourselves through these discussions.

If we don't try to combat that misinformation that's in this space, if we don't try our best to heal this space, then how is it ever going to recover?

I am a person that exists in real life. Syscourse isn't just a chronically online thing -- IT DOES have an impact in the real world! Stop devaluing passion and heat and anger just because you feel like you're so much more above it because you are clearly the person who knows better than everyone else, simply because you "Cracked the code" and somehow figured out how to syscourse unharmfully (newsflash, asshole, so did a lot of people -- it's just not in the way you agree with).

Let yourself be mad. Let yourself be impolite. Don't let it completely overtake every moment of your day, every second of your life, but fucking let yourself be mad. It's okay to be upset!

I don't know how so many of us managed to forget that along the way.

#syscourse #long post #I have a LOT of thoughts on this matter #And a lot that's been bottled up for months #I'm doing my best to not molitov cocktail it at you all #But I'm also trying not to explode myself #I'm so fucking terrified to post this #Because of how far back all of this has set me #But I know ripping off the bandaid might be the best way to start healing #So here we go

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noceurstars · 6 months

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”Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

Rupert Giles x Witch! Younger! Reader

You and the Scoobies try to have a normal Thanksgiving. Try, anyway.

[ w — age gap (20+ years), older man/younger woman, injured! reader, assumed unrequited love, short story, tv show-compliant only, slight canon divergence ]

— divider cred: @/inklore

Living above the Hellmouth meant that nothing would ever be normal. No holidays, no birthdays would ever be like the average person’s.

Thanksgiving and Christmas was the same. Monsters and creatures of the dark never took days off, not with their insatiable need to be evil.

Buffy sighed as she staked what was probably the 20th vampire of the night. Thanksgiving was a time to sit down with friends and family, having a lovely, large dinner and being thankful for the people in your life and the things you had.

But not for the Scoobies.

You huffed, rolling your sore shoulder. A vampire had taken a good chunk out of of your neck, but the second he tasted your blood, he instantly revolted, and you took a stake to his heart.

“You good?” Buffy asks, eyeballing your shoulder.

“Yeah.” But you hiss a little as pain flares through it. “It’s just gonna take a minute to heal. I’ll put some bandaids on it when we get back.”

Buffy cheerily and knowingly chips in a, “I’m sure Giles would disapprove.” That prompts you to give her a deadpan look.

“You know that he doesn’t like me like that,” you reply. You shove your hands into your pockets. “It’s a one-way street. Can we talk about something else?”

She shrugs. “Sure.”

The two of you walked side by side out of the graveyard. Buffy sighs, tilting her head down.

“I really wish Christmas could be normal,” she admits. “I miss it, from when I was a kid. It’s so much different from now.”

“Not as involved with monsters, you mean?” you say, and Buffy nods in confirmation. “Yeah, me too. I feel so… apathetic about it anymore. It doesn’t feel as important, as fun as it used to be.”

“Cons of being apart of the supernatural world,” she adds.

“Truly.” You laugh. “Not to mention—” A scream rips from your throat. Cold heat washes through you and up your spine, all the way up to your skull. Your head jolts back at the pain, and the cold heat leaves as the wooden stake leaves your body, now replaced by odd, liquid warmth.

Oh, you’re bleeding. Bleeding out, perhaps.

You heard the slaps and thuds of fighting as you fall to the ground. You try to have some semblance of control as you collapse in pain, but it doesn’t work. You bump your head into a headstone and more liquid oozes down your skin.

You hear the familiar hissing sound of dust. Buffy’s won. Now you see her over you, terror and fear written all over her features.

“[Name]? [Name]? You with me?”

You gulp, attempting to focus and swallow down the pain. “Kinda,” you hiss.

“Healing magic? Can it fix this?” she inquires hurriedly.

“Probably,” you reply, becoming more and more breathless.

“I’m gonna put pressure on it, okay? The second you feel any sort of clarity, start chanting.”

You let out a loud cry of pain, more blood coming out and staining your shirt. The pain signals the adrenaline in your body. It takes you a couple seconds longer than what you hope before you start chanting in Latin.

It feels strange, your body stitching itself back together. The strange feeling of blood coming out of your body disappears. You huff, the chant ending a minute later. Buffy takes her hands off the wound and you watch her examine it.

“How’s it look?”

“Looks good, head wound is gone, too,” she says. “But we need to get you back to the Magic Box. Giles and Willow might have something they can help you brew up to get you fully healed.”

You lean up using your elbows and hands. You take Buffy’s hand and let out groan of pain as you get to your feet. You two walk out of the graveyard and head to the Magic Box. You thank God it’s dark and no one can see you and your best friend walk through the streets of Sunnydale with her holding you up.

The Magic Box comes into sight not ten minutes later. Buffy uses her key to open the door, but neither of you expect to see the floor of the Magic Box completely cleared out, with a large, decorated table filled to the brim with food and drinks.

Xander is the first to turn his head up and see you and Buffy.

“Happy Thanksgiving, you guys!” he says.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Xander,” you speak breathlessly. And that’s when he knows something is wrong. His eyes trail down to your bloodied shirt and widen drastically.

“Oh, crap.”

“Oh, crap is right.” Buffy sets you down in one of the nearest chairs. “Get the others and tell them [Name] needs a healing potion… or some sort of healing magic. The wound isn’t as bad as it looks, but she needs help crossing the finish line.”

“On it.”

Xander heads to the back to get the others, who come rushing in not a moment after he gets them.

Unfortunately for you, all you can focus on through one eye (the other squinted in pain) is Giles, and the look of worry and concern on his face.

“She’s very pale,” Giles says. His voice is clearly worried. It almost seems borderline… terrified?

“Blood loss,” you say in a shakily exhale. “Healed, yes. Blood back inside the body? Not so much.”

“Can you do anything, Giles?” Buffy asks.

“Let me see the wound and we’ll see.”

You raise your shirt, showing off the nasty scar. It’s not fully healed, maybe three-quarters. You look away, eyes meeting Buffy’s, who’s expression is borderline teasing and full of amusement. You roll yours in return.

“Nothing out of my capabilities I can’t heal,” Giles says. He looks up at you and adds, “But I do have to touch it to heal it.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” The second Giles places his hand on the injury though, a large wave of nausea makes you shudder and groan.

“She looks like she needs a trash can,” Xander pipes.

“I’ll get one,” Anya offers, disappearing behind the counter momentarily to grab one. She places it next to you and you thank her.

Giles’ warm hand leaves your lower torso. The wound is completely healed, although you still feel faint from the blood loss. He looks at you again, scanning over your sick expression.

“I’ll be fine in a bit,” you tell, a smile appearing on your face. “I think some food in my stomach would do me some good. Thank you, Giles.”

“You are most welcome,” he replies, standing. “And I think you are absolutely correct. Shall we eat?”

Buffy nods and speaks for everyone’s hungry stomachs. “We shall.”

Dawn sits between you and Buffy. Xander, Anya, and Dawn are on the other side of the table. At the head of the table, between Xander and Buffy, is Giles. Just like a father should be, you think, humored.

“So… What happened? How’d you get such a wound?” Willow asks.

You and Buffy answer in unison: “Vampires.”

“Thought we were done and one caught us by surprise with one of the stakes,” Buffy explains. “[Name] used her magic, but she couldn’t heal it all the way.”

“Glad you both made it back,” Xander said happily. “This Thanksgiving dinner we put together would’ve been a total bust.”

Everyone laughs in agreement and digs into the food. Unknowingly to you, Giles can barely keep his eyes off of you, only looking away to take a bite of food off of his plate. Though he does try to it make it obvious.

Indeed, he’s glad you made it back. He’s glad he’s able to heal your injuries. Life would certainly be a lot more dull without you around.

But as Anya hands you the gravy, you catch Giles staring at you out of your peripheral vision. There’s a look on his face, one you know well, because it’s the same one Spike gives Buffy when she’s not looking.

You smile and raise your glass in a toast. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

Everyone raises their glass cheerily, downing a swig.

You thank this Thanksgiving for giving you hope. Even if it doesn’t last.

#giles x reader #giles x witch! reader #rupert giles x reader #giles btvs #rupert giles #giles fluff #giles oneshot #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #buffyverse #btvs fluff

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frankpooleunofficial · 10 days

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“Where did you get that scar?”

“This one?”

Frank moved his arm to expose the pink tissue on his side, mostly healed but still a different colour from the rest of the surrounding skin. It was obviously surgical — the clean line gave it away, for sure — but he’d never discussed this particular detail about himself with anyone he worked with… well, only with doctors on a need-to-know basis.

He wondered if he’d be ridiculed for telling the truth; Dave was kind and fairly non-judgmental, but Frank had seen people switch in a moment from understanding to disgusted — even people who had claimed to love him! He could lie and say he had been a heavy kid, or that he had gynecomastia, but lying didn’t seem like the best course of action. If anything, that might cause more harm than if he just ripped off the bandaid.

“I got some surgery done a-a couple years back.”

Way to be specific. His face was definitely a bit red.

“I guess you haven’t really seen me like this, have you?”

In such close quarters, it was hard to avoid a slight breakdown of privacy. The closet-sized change room/washroom/hiding space was a godsend, though. It was one of the only places to be totally free of supervision. Frank used it often.

Today had been different, though. Call it complacency or call it forgetfulness, but he had needed to change his shirt after a particularly intensive workout and had completely forgotten to make sure Dave was not nearby; he’d sometimes swap clothes out in the open when he knew he was alone — well, alone as one can be with an omnipresent supercomputer onboard — but Hal knew all about Frank’s medical history and couldn’t care less about partial nudity, so long as it didn’t interfere with daily tasks.

Dave still hadn’t seen the long line across the bottom of his pecs. He hadn’t noticed (or just hadn’t mentioned) the indent of a graft taken from Frank’s left forearm. It was bound to happen eventually…

He turned and revealed himself. He remembered pulling off the gauze after his surgery; the relief he had felt then was immense. He ripped off the bandaid.

“I hope this isn’t an issue,” his speech was strained.

Going stealth was something he’d done for his own peace of mind; Frank tried to forget the men he’d dated as a twenty-year-old, the ones who claimed to be bisexual but had never been with another man, and who had discouraged him from binding and starting testosterone. The same ones who called him ‘Frankie’ or ‘Frances’. How hard was it to write ‘Francis’? How hard was it to say ‘Frank’? He’d really lost it when they shortened ‘Frances’ to ‘Cissy’ in conversation with their friends.

Frank didn’t even notice how hard he was clenching his teeth.

#frankpooleunofficial #I have done angsty death scars and silly teenage injury scars #now get ready for post-op transmasc scars

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 3 years

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Alone (But Not Anymore) | Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Reader, Tendou Satori, Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei

Pairings: Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader

Warnings: Hints of anxiety, nothing too major

Word Count: 1015

Summary: You weren’t alone anymore and something told you it would last forever.

A/N: This is an unplanned Part 2 to Alone with Tsukishima Kei. I wrote the first part during a very dark time in my life when I was with my ex. I left him, and now I’m on the path to a better future. I think it’s almost funny that the events in this mildly line up with my life. I didn’t actually know where to go from part 1, but I guess this is the best thing. Read Part 1 Here --------

You were alone, but it didn’t last as long as you thought it would.

These days, you spent more time being loved than you did alone. Now you can finally pull yourself out of the darkness, using your own light as guidance; even Daichi and Suga helped every so often, the pair helping you to find the methods that worked best for you.

It took time (of course it did, these things take time) but you were slowly healing your broken heart. Leaving Tsukishima hadn’t hurt for as long as you thought it would, you even felt guilty when you woke up one morning and couldn’t quite figure out what his face looked like. Hidden insecurities seeped through the cracks, but you were no longer fighting this battle alone. Having support was strange, not unwelcomed, just different. Positive affirmations were your own little mantra, because you deserved to be loved.

At some point, your heart heals enough to where you actually consider dating someone. The thought itself is very daunting - with you and Tsukishima, things had been easy, you’d known him for so long that it was the right thing to be together. You’d never gone on dates, you’d never even thought about what type of guy you might like. Now was as good as time as any.

You sought out the help of Suga and Daichi for help to find someone; that plan was stopped as quickly as it started (apparently, they don’t know what type of guy you’d be interested in either). You’re about to give up when they beg you for one last try. And you agree, because, even after all these failed attempts, you still trust them.

That was how you ended up meeting Ushijima Wakatoshi - you had recognised him from somewhere but couldn’t quite place it - not yet at least. Apparently he’d just come back to town to be a part of the Japan National Team and decided to visit Miyagi for a short while; Hinata had given Daichi the hint, considering your situation, and they all colluded together to set you up on this date.

And that was the start of it; your whirlwind romance.

Ushijima - or Toshi, as you’d grown to call him - was a man of few words (apparently, he used to be quieter in high school). When he does speak, he knows exactly what to say and how to say it. He’s gentle off court, drowning you in the sweetest of affections in the form of forehead kisses and secret hand holding. It felt like a forbidden romance, but it was so much more than that, because he truly did love you. He introduced you to his best friend - Tendou Satori - who jokingly offered to bake a cake for your wedding. You tried to put on a brave face and hide the sadness that dwindled in your stomach, yet Ushijima was observant; he could read you like an open book, and that in itself was terrifying.

“Because I said it doesn't matter!” You yelled at him. Every step forward he took closer to your heart, you’d push back. You hadn’t realised how badly Tsukishima had affected you until these days. The barrier’s you’d spent so long putting up were crumbling around you, you were scared, because he is Ushijima Wakatoshi> - the man with a female audience so vast that you couldn’t help the insecurities. What if he found someone better? What if he was just using you to pass the time? What if he didn’t really care, and he was only doing this because he felt bad for you? What if Daichi and Suga told him about Tsukishima and he just pities you?

A thousand thoughts a minute and not one of them made sense. And yet… if they didn’t make sense, why did everything else make sense?

What did a man like Ushijima really want to do with you? You weren’t anything special, just an average girl. You were tired most of the time but forced up the energy to call him, you had clashing schedules with his intensive training and your a thousand articles that always needed to be written.

You barely had time for yourself, let alone for each other, but neither of you stopped.

Why?

Maybe it was because being with him made you feel not alone anymore. Something about him seemed to understand you. So when you came to visit him, you decided to rip off the bandaid, bite the bullet, swallow the pill, whatever other idioms there were for it, and tell him everything.

How was it so hard? Where could you even start?

Well, the beginning works; so you tell him your story. How you fell in love with Tsukishima, how everything seemed to fit into place and you thought you’d be happy forever; how things slowly seemed to pull apart at the seams until you were holding onto threads - and every time you tried to fix it, he’d pull it apart again. That you were blissfully ignorant, you’d ignore the marks and try to pass off the insecurities as normal marital worries. But they weren’t. You told him how desperate you were to be heard, but everyone left you alone.

No stone was left unturned in your heart.

You’d never seen him so… angry? Not as he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, promising you that he would never do anything like that to you. That you meant the world to him.

You let yourself believe him, because Ushijima would never lie (you learnt that the hard way).

When he’s finished with the Olympics, he asks you to join him in Poland, to move in with him and never let him go. Feelings of anxiety trickled in but with him you felt safe, so you went.

No longer was it a fleeting, whirlwind romance.

Tendou keeps his promise to bake a cake for your wedding, and Ushijima keeps his promise to never leave you alone.

You weren’t alone anymore and something told you it would last forever.

--------

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fallingappleshurt · 3 years

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Secrets To Save You

~~chapter description because I forgot last time~~~

Tubbo is dying and his only hope is Techno getting supplies for a healing potion in the Nether

Eyyyy bad description but I did chapter two eyyyy and I bet the docs formatting got messed up eyyyy

TW: Swearing but nothing to bad

Chapter 2: Into Fire

Techno always found the fourth ring to be somewhat depressing, it was dirty and broken, the sidewalks and roads eventually morphed into dusty gravel then dirt. The houses were small and in shabbley, garbage and junk crowded parts of the road and the fence that was supposed to separate the rings from the forest had kinks and rips in the mesh. Nature still managed to push through, bushes hiding yards from view, flower pots on window sills.

Even with the fence keeping the forest out there were actual trees in the fourth ring, some leaned over the fence, vines creating cover along the edge. The people seemed happy at least, he passed a rinky treehouse, filled with shrieks and giggles. An open nearby window let a soft melody drift out into the street.

He would have appreciated it more if his head didn’t feel like it was about to explode as he rushed down the street

Skeppy lived in a little scrappy house, one of the windows was busted and the door creaks every time it’s touched but it was a good cover for what was underneath. Skeppy had hollowed out a huge space underneath that was hidden by chests, it was basically a secret basement. It had mini farms and stolen goods, Skeppy was good with his hand and could make just about anything. He’s been running a racket.

Techno knocked lightly on the door, he heard shuffling inside then the door squeaked open and Skeppy poked his head out, he had redstone dust against his cheeks.

“Who- Oh hey Techno, what’s up?”

“I need help,”

“Never a dull moment with you, what do you need?”

“I need to go to the Nether.” Skeppy raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“Did you hear about the attack in the second ring?” Techno asked, Skeppy nodded, “My little brother’s friend got withering poison and I need to get potion supplies.”

Skeppy’s face dropped, he opened the door all the way, “Come inside,” Techno stepped inside and found himself sitting at Skeppy’s shitty table, tapping his fingers nervously along the scratched wood.

“What all do you need?” Skeppy asked, digging through one of the chests along his wall.

“Nether wart, blaze rods, and blaze powder,” Techno listed off, hoping the Captain hadn’t forgotten anything.

“I only have nether wart,” Skeppy said.

“Do you know of anywhere else I could get it?”

“Without stealing or for a reasonable price? No, sorry man.”

Techno groaned, jamming a hand in his hair, “I need to get this stuff, Tubbo’s life depends on it.”

“I still might have something that could help- would you be willing to go to the nether?”

Techno blinked, would he? He wanted to help Tubbo but there he had only read about the Nether and it’s creatures years ago, a hellish, hot, burning landscape with danger at every turn. The mobs were loud and explosive, some could fly and shoot fire, or that could actively hide and breathe in lava. He didn’t want to go in there, he had no idea how to handle, even with all of his training.

Then he remembered Tommy.

He remembered that Tommy was going to lose his best friend if he didn’t do this. Tubbo had his whole life ahead of him, he was a smart kid and Techno knew he’d go far and do great things, both of them would. Those two had been side by side for years, they were a part of each other. It was never just Tommy or Tubbo, it was Tommy and Tubbo.

He couldn’t do that to them.

‘You could die!’’ The other side of him reasoned, he shoved it aside. He had to do this, for Tommy and Tubbo.

“Yes,” He rasped, Skeppy grinned then walked over to his mattress, pulling a bag out from underneath it. He tossed it at Techno, who dumped it’s contents onto the table, papers and pens scattering everywhere. He grabbed one of the folded pieces and opened it, revealing a detailed map with bullet points along the side and in the margins.

“If you’d let me explain before dumping all of my stuff everywhere, these are maps around the Nether, one to get a portal I have in the woods, one on how to get to different regions of the Nether and notes on what to do or avoid. Do you know how to navigate the Nether?”

“Not in the slightest,”

Skeppy laughed, “You’re so bad-”

“Just tell me what to do-”

“Let me talk, so when you first get in there don’t step on anything that glows, it’ll either burn you or break. Just try and stay anyways from any mobs, you’ll see a lot of these pig things but as long as you have something that looks like gold on you then you should be fine.” Skeppy shoved the papers around until he found a yellow pin.

“Wear that on your shirt and they should leave you alone. For the rest of it, just follow the map and try not to get set on fire.”

“What about the fortress?”

“I’ve been in the fortress once before and it was absolutely terrifying, the blazes had these weird sticks that fly all around them and they will spit fire at you so watch out, they usually are in their own little boxy areas. The only real advice I have is try not to get set on fire.” Skeppy said, shrugging. Techno sighed, shoving the papers back into the bag.

“Thank you-”

“Oh, you’ll need this for the portal, to start it up,” He handed Techno a piece of metal and flint, tied together, Techno pocketed it.

“Thank you-”

“It’s whatever- oh wait let me grab the nether wart,” Skeppy jumped up, pushing one of his chests to the side, climbing down a rusty ladder as Techno continued to clean up the maps. Skeppy emerged from the gap and tossed a small pouch at him.

“There you go,” He paused, “Good luck, and you know the drill, you never got that stuff from me.” Skeppy grinned, Techno snorted, shouldering the bag and opening the door.

“Of course, I’ve just met you, it’s Skippy right?”

“Haha, very funny-”

“Later Skippy-”

“Techno-” Skeppy’s retort was cut off by Techno closing the door. He didn’t know much about the Nether but he knew he needed a weapon so he headed back to the apartment to get his sword. The walk back was uneventful though there seemed to be less people, and guards milling about. Techno chalked it up to the commotion in the second ring.

Coming into his neighborhood, he climbed up the rusty stairs to their apartment and opened the door. Inside Wilbur and Tommy were passed out on the couch, a bandaid was on Tommy’s cheek and he didn’t see Phil anywhere, the coast was clear.

Techno slipped into his and Phil’s room, putting the bag of nether wart under his mattress, he grabbed his sword from under his bed. Running his fingers along the sheath to clear the dust then adjusted it to his belt.

“Where are you going?”

Techno turned and saw Phil in the doorway, he froze. He couldn’t tell Phil he was trying to sneak into the Nether, he didn’t even like Techno going to the duels so him walking into what was essentially hell would have been a no go.

“Tommy told me what happened, is this for Tubbo?”

Techno nodded, he didn’t like lying to Phil but he didn’t want to worry him either, well, more then he already did.

Phil sighed, “You aren’t gonna be able to earn enough money for hospital care in one night,”

Techno blinked, realizing he had an out, he didn’t have to tell Phil what he was doing, not directly, just tell him that he was going to help Tubbo.

He swallowed, “I can try,”

Phil looked down, after a moment he said, “Be careful, okay?”

Techno nodded, he stepped forwards and placed a hand on Phil’s shoulder, Phil put his hand on top of Techno’s. “Of course.” Then as quietly as possible, he walked out of their apartment and back towards the fourth ring, dodging the few guards and walking along the fence until he found a big enough opening.

He had only been in the forest once before when he was younger and it had not gone well. He shuddered and pushed away the memories, pulling out the map of the forest, and started in.

The edge of the forest had garbage and junk littered around, a few animals poking at it or climbing on the bits of metal sticking out of the dirt. Further in however the garbage started to recede and foliage looked more lush, the tree rustled as squirrels ran along the branches.

Techno pushed vines out of the way looking at the trees for Skeppy’s landmark, at the heart carved into the roots, turn left and keep going until you reach the mountain. He scanned the surrounding trees, hoping to see the mark but coming up short. He walked further, stepping over roots and flowers, trying not to disturb the foliage. It wasn’t night yet but if monsters were nearby then he didn’t want to alert them.

Techno wandered a bit further until he looked down and saw a little heart carved into the root of a sycamore tree, after checking the directions again he turned left and continued on. The terrain started to get rockier and steeper, tree roots bent out and tangled and more noticeable then ever. The dirt changed into stone as he approached a small craggly mountain, checking over the map again he couldn’t find any other directions besides ‘look for the cave thing- you know what you mean’.

Of course Skeppy would write something like that.

Techno looked up and down the mountain, trying to see if there were any openings or caves when he spotted one halfway to the peak, groaning, he started up the cliff side, not bothering to avoid any plants in his path this time.

This turned out to be a bad idea because he stepped on a patch of leaves and vines and immediately fell into a hole. He lay flat on the ground for a moment, contemplating his life.

After he finished his internal scream fest he pushed himself to his feet to try and find a way out of this stupid hole, only to look up and see an inky wine colored arch in the wall and a nearby chest covered in dust.

Yeah this seemed like something Skeppy would make.

Techno got up, dusted himself off, then checked the chest, finding it was empty besides a thing of rope which he left alone. He pulled out the flint and steel and spent the better part of ten minutes trying to light the damn portal before finally getting a solid spark.

The portal shook then violet tendrils crept from the edges and twinged together. The portal swirled loudly and Techno threw himself in before he could change his mind.

He stumbled into what he could only define as literal hell.

The air was hot and somewhat sticky, everything was either bright orange or a dark red. Monsters shuffled around, grunting and groaning, a high pitched wail sounded in the distance. Lava dripped from the ceiling and pooled into sluggishly moving puddles, he could feel it’s heat even though he was a safe distance away.

He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, digging through his bag he found the nether map and started jogging deeper into the rough red realm.

Techno followed Skeppy’s landmarks, a really gross looking blue tree, a deep hole that led directly to a lava pit, and avoided a very dark and foggy biome then continued straight.

He was starting to give up hope when finally he saw a large dark brick structure over a sea of lava, he looked around and saw the path Skeppy used to get to it. A little tunnel in the rock that led to a part of the fortress that was stuck in the wall.

He hopped onto the top of the structure and immediately felt uneasy, like someone was watching him. He walked along the top until he found an opening and climbed in, drawing his sword, the halls were empty but you could never be too careful.

Techno wandered down the hall until it opened into what seemed like a courtyard of sorts. Broken and rotted creatures walked along the railings of the fortress, unbothered by his presence. A breathy hiss drew is attention, a blaze, or what he thought was, hissed at him.

The blaze chucked a fireball at him, he dodged back then ran forwards, slashing at the monster. He caught it once before it flew up, screeching, Techno dodged another attack and swung in an arch, clipping the blaze. It howled again before bursting into smoke, dropping two merigold rods on the brick.

Techno shoved them into his bag, not sure on how many to get, on one hand he wanted to leave but if it wasn’t enough then the whole trip would have been pointless and they would lose Tubbo.

A breathy hiss made the decision for him as he ducked away from a fireball, then charged at the approaching monster, it was better to over prepare then under prepare.

Techno fell into a rhythm of sorts, slashing, stabbing, and dodging. The thing about the duels was that they made him feel alive but also dull, it was the same thing almost every time; some dumbass with a cocky attitude and little to no sword skills, it was easy.

Fighting the blazes was different, they were unpredictable- chaotic, deadly.

They didn’t have any rules to play by, only going on pure instinct, not bothering to try and banter to entertain an audience. It was new, fresh, dangerous, he got used to the fire just barely licking at his skin. It got his heart pounding and lungs aching- it was almost fun.

After what felt like seconds but had to have been at least an hour he had 14 blaze rods. He shoved them into his bag then ditched the fortress, rushing back out the way he came. He ran until he reached the blue biome again and stopped to break.

While waiting he saw a lanky black figure standing by one of the trees, he squinted at it. It looked familiar, Techno knew he had read about it before but he couldn’t place his finger on it.

Then the figure started screeching and ran at him. Techno jumped then lashed out and got a solid blow but was thrown back against a tree, shaking his head he slashed the creature across the chest then stabbed it. It’s jaw unhinged, it howled, staring at him with wide purple eyes then disappearing in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a blue ball.

Techno picked up the ball, looking it over, after realizing he didn’t know what it was and therefore probably had no use to him, he chucked it behind him and started back towards the portal.

Only to be farther back then before, he yelped, looking around frantically. What the hell just happened?

Then it hit him. He remembered reading about Endermen and their strange relationships and reactions to humans. He also remembered Tommy telling him about these weird, rare blue balls that they dropped that could teleport you if you threw them; he had learned about it in school and wouldn’t stop talking about it for a week.

He realized those could be pretty useful, especially in the Nether, then set out to look for more of the lanky creatures. After about an hour he had fought multiple but only managed to get three pearls but that was still better then nothing. He slipped them into a pouch on his belt and continued back to the portal.

Once out of the Nether, after getting over the wave of nausea, he used the rope in the chest and climbed out of the hole. After sloppily covering it up he ran back through the forest, to the rings. The moon was starting to dip towards the trees and he realized he had been in there all night and that would make the trade off harder but Techno still had time.

He climbed back through the hole in the fence and headed towards the Captains house, cutting through yards and possibly trampling a few flowers and other things. He made a pit stop at his apartment to grab the Nether wart and dropped off his sword. He ran to the edge of the second ring and skidded to a halt outside the house.

Techno knocked, quietly but quickly, until a scruffy looking Captain opened the door.

“Techno?” He asked, “What are you doing here-”

“Let me in, I got the stuff,” Techno said, pushing his way in, the Captain closed the door.

“What stuff?”

“The potion supplies,” Techno set his bag down on the table, the Captain’s eyes widened.

“Wait you actually got it? How?”

“Don’t ask questions you aren’t prepared to hear the answers too, just take them.” Techno set the pouch of nether wart on the table then proceeded to dump out all of the blaze rods.

The Captain didn’t move, he stood there staring at the materials.

“You got everything else?”

The Captain nodded and Techno smiled, heading towards the door, he was exhausted.

“Good to know, I hope to see Tubbo soon.” Then he left, closing the door, heading back home, where he drank half of his body weight in water then collapsed into bed.

He hadn’t heard much from anyone in Tubbo’s family for three days. Everyday Tommy would come home from school and report that Tubbo was still missing. Techno would bite his lip and hope that the Captain would be able to make the potion. He had avoided stopping by to cause less suspicion.

On the fourth day, a Saturday, someone knocked on the door. Tommy was in his room, Phil was reading in the living room, and Wilbur refused to get off the couch so Techno answered the door.

Tubbo stood there, looking up at him holding a plate of cookies and a folded note.

“Oh! Hey Techno! These are for you guys, they are from my mom!” Tubbo said, pushing the plate closer, “And the note is for you, from my dad.” He added quietly, “Said it’s a secret.”

Techno took the plate, smiling softly, after finally finding his voice; “Thank you, come on in for a minute.” And pulled Tubbo inside. He set the plate down and pocketed the note.

“Hey Tommy, come here for a second!”

“What is it?”

“Just come here!”

Tommy’s door opened and he stepped out, “What’s the big idea-” He trailed off upon seeing Tubbo, who waved.

Tommy stood there, in shock before launching himself across the room and bowling into the other boy, shrieking.

“Tubbo! You’re okay!” He said, wrapping his arms around the other.

“Yeah!”

Wilbur got up from the couch and Phil followed to greet Tubbo, ruffling his hair, and telling him they were so happy he was okay.

After the room had settled, Tommy immediately drug Tubbo into his room, asking him what the poison was like. Phil warned Tommy to be careful in case Tubbo was still healing and Wilbur warned Tommy to not touch any of his stuff.

Techno stepped away and looked at the note.

‘Please bring Tubbo home tonight then talk to me- Captain’

The vagueness of the note made his stomach turn, the whole rest of the day Techno worried about stupid things like ‘what if the potion only worked temporarily and Tubbo was still in danger? What if a guard saw him doing all the very illegal actions he did last night? What if Sparkles reported him?’

When Tubbo said he had to get going, Techno offered to walk him back, then still proceeded to worry the whole rest of the way there.

He followed Tubbo inside his house when the Captain pulled him into the kitchen and gave him a hug.

Techno stood shocked, blinking, before awkwardly returning it. The Captain had never really seemed to like Techno, he was never mean, just always seemed on edge. The Captain pulled away, eyes shining.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” He said, “You saved my son's life, without that potion he would have died- thank you.”

“It was no problem,” Techno said, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I care about the kid a lot and he helps keep Tommy out of trouble, so it was the least I could do.”

“The least- oh nevermind, I still want to thank you for risking your life for him and ask you a question.”

Techno nodded hesiatinely.

“Does anyone else know about what you did?”

“Just one other person, but trust me he won’t tell anyone.”

“Okay, I had an idea, potions are in high demand so I was wondering if you wanted to do a little back alley selling,”

Techno raised an eyebrow, “How so?”

“You would get the ingredients, I would make the potions and sell them off then we would split the money. And I know that we aren’t that close but this could help both of our families, if you are willing to.” The Captain offered his hand

Techno considered it, “I don’t want to be doing any of the hand offs-”

“No that would be all me, all you have to get is gather the ingredients!” He assured, Techno sighed then took the Captain’s hand.

“It’s a deal.”

#yep I did it boys #this chapter is like 11 pages bRuh #oof- gamer moment #mcyt #minecraft youtubers #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #sleepyboysinc #philza #technoblade #family dynamics #dff au?#Apples Writing #chapter 2 #sleepyblr #Skeppy #Tubbo #tubbolive #mcyt DFF AU

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lo-55 · 3 years

Text

Lightning In A Bottle Ch. 2

Nanohana wasn’t changed much, to the point that Nao was beginning to wonder how long she had been inside her crystal prison. She had no idea how much time had passed, but if the boy who had broken her out of the rock hadn’t recognized her or her flag it had to have been a while.

And that hat…

It had to be a duplicate, surely.

Nao tucked her hands into the pockets of her pants. Her high leather boots kept the sand out of her socks, at least, and when Luffy managed to burn whole sacks of Raindance powder her cape kept her dry. At her side, Odenta and Mikazuki hung as heavy comforts in their sheaths. They didn’t garner nearly as much attention in the city as Nao and the Gem’s had when they had arrived however long ago that was. Back there the city had emptied out as soon as they stepped foot in the sand covered streets of the Alabastan port.

No, no one even looked twice at them, there were so many people going through the city.

Not her, or Luffy in his hat.

How peculiar.

Nao made a mental note to get a hold of a newspaper as soon as she could, or maybe visit Ohara. They would have the best records about what she’d missed.

It would have to wait. Ohara was a long ways from Alabasta, and it would be hard to sail Blood Stone without someone else helping her. The ship was just a little felucca, hardly big enough for fifteen people, but she was tough as nails and made for the roughest waters in the world. All the same, it wasn’t safe to sail alone in the Grand Line, where the weather might change without warning, when there wasn’t someone to stay awake and keep watch. Not to mention Marine’s, other pirates, and all sorts of other dangers. Sea Kings probably hadn’t gone extinct since she went under. She’d rather not deal with them.

Nao was so busy contemplating her ship that she nearly walked right by the restaurant that Luffy went shooting into.

She had to backtrack to poke her head inside. A crowd had gathered, and Luffy was ignoring it entirely in face of ordering lunch. A pair of unconscious bodies lay through several broken walls.

Nao cocked her head. Had Luffy done that when hed stretched out and launched himself like a demented rubberband? She knew it had to be a Devil Fruit, but she didn’t expect him to go causing that much destruction mindlessly.

What a weird kid.

Ah well. Pirate.

Nao took a seat next to Luffy while the chef frantically started cooking. Whoever had been in before them had eaten a lot, with dirty plates stacked nearly to the ceiling. Now he was feeding Luffy, and her too.

Nao made a mental note to tip him well.

She casually elbowed Luffy’s face out of the way and stole a whole chicken to rip into.

“Hey!” he shouted around a mouthful of food. His head stretched unnaturally away on his neck. “That’s mine!”

“Finders keepers,” she said succinctly, and shoveled it into her face as fast as she could. Time hadn’t passed for her at all inside the stone. Her injuries from the battle weren’t healed, and she didn’t feel well rested. She was famished, but not starving like she’d spent months unconscious.

Nevertheless, she’d always been a big eater. She needed the energy to keep up with her lifestyle, and to keep herself strong enough to fight. She wouldn't let her broad shoulders shrivel or her powerful legs grow weak if she could help it. It was a death sentence.

She nearly bit Luffy’s hand inhaling spicy noodles next, and a hank of lamb. The chef was sweating and out of breath but he kept putting food on the counter and they kept eating. Luffy was chatting with the locals while he ate.

“Why’s there a hole in the wall? Is that some weird hobby of yours?”

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO PUT THE HOLE IN THE WALL!”

She knew it.

Nao was in the middle of a plate of roasted peppers when one of the formerly-unconscious men climbed out of the hole in the wall. She watched him get slammed back down by a man in a fur coat, and the next thing she knew she was getting dragged through the streets of Nanohara by Luffy.

Why are we running? That guy isn’t even that strong...

“Tashigi!” the man chasing them shouted, “Stop them!”

Nao looked forwards to see a girl with a sword.

“I’ll handle her,” she offered Luffy, who nodded and let go so he could go bouncing up onto the rooftops like a ninja or something. In one smooth move Nao drew Odenta from her side and lifted it to block a blow from the other girl, Tashigi.

“Nice sword,” Nao grinned sharply at the girl over their locked blades. Her form was good, but she wasn’t very strong. Too bad.

“Yours is too. It’s a shame it’s being used by pirate scum!”

“Xeshishishi, tell you what, if you can beat me you can have her.”

The man who’d been smashed into the floor landed next to the two. An orange hat rested on his head and he had a bad slung over one shoulder. Black hair fell in soft waves to frame his cheeks, which were covered with freckles.

There was something familiar about him…

“Excuse me, ladies,” he said politely, startling both of them into looking away from their crossed blades to him instead. He tipped his hat towards them, then the building that Luffy had jumped up onto. He was blocked from it by their swords. “I have to catch up with my brother now.”

“Uh, sure,” said the marine girl. They pulled their blades away to make a path for him.

“Why are you telling us this…?” the redhead countered, looking confused. She faltered when she got a good look at his face, recognition shooting through her. Nao sucked in a breath. He looked like-

“Hey, hold on-!”

“Sorry, I can’t,” Portgas waved to them and shot over the rooftops, after his brother and the marine. Nao shook her head. She would see him again, if he was chasing Luffy.

Nao drew back and slashed again easily. Each move was economic and graceful. She spared no energy, partially because she simply didn’t have any. Tashigi blocked, but the force pushed her back a few feet.

Nao parried her next attack and side stepped to smack her on the back of the neck with Odenta, sending her careening to the ground.

Someone screamed, but no blood came from the fallen marine.

She touched the back of her neck in confusion. “Wha-?”

Nao didn’t answer.

She was already gone.

Nao ducked around a corner and ran after Luffy, following his Haki until she caught up with him and a group of colorful people. Hadn’t he said he was a pirate? Or he was going to be King of the Pirates. That was what he’d said. Well, to be king of them you needed to be a pirate in the first place, right?

That sounded right.

So these people were probably his crew.

When he saw her he grinned and threw his hand out. It stretched far enough to grab her by the wrist and yank her forwards.

“Hey! You made it past the sword lady!”

“Well yeah,” Nao landed beside him running. Her leg was starting to ache where a cut had caught her over the knee.

“Who are you supposed to be?” A curly haired young man with a long nose demanded, eying her.

“She’s a rock person I found,” Luffy said cheerfully.

“That. About sums it up,” Nao felt herself smile involuntarily. “I’m Roche Nao,” she said for the second time that day. She really hoped they stopped running soon. Her leg was seriously starting to ache.

“So Luffy picked up someone else weird,” an orange haired girl looked exasperated more than anything else. Nao felt like she should have been offended, but she just shrugged. She was too tired to be upset with people who hadn’t actually done anything to her.

Besides, she wasn’t wrong.

They came upon a pretty caraval, with a sweet looking figure head. A sheep. Nao felt herself smile. It was cute and light hearted, like this crew seemed to be. Nothing at all like the swift, devil faced Blood Stone. Her eyes were two carved rubies, and a pair of snakes twined around her in a macabre necklace that matched the one that hung beneath Nao’s own shirt.

“Permission to come aboard?” she asked Luffy lightly. The boy beamed at her and tipped the brim of his hat.

“Granted!”

They scampered onto the ship and in a whirlwind of motion they set sail. The caravel carried them away from the port. The pirate flag flapped in the wind, showing off a skull wearing a straw hat.

Seriously, what was up with that hat?

Had that up-and-coming volcano really given it to some upstart?

...actually. That sounded exactly like something he would do.

She realized that their little pet (a raccoon?) was staring at her only when he shouted suddenly.

“Ah! You’re bleeding!”

It was a testement to how tired she was that she hadn’t noticed that he was a mink, and not just a weird animal.

“Hah? Where?”

“Your leg! Quick, take off your pants and I’ll- ouch!”

The orange haired girl smacked him over the head. “Don’t ask it like that!” she scolded.

“But I need to see how bad it is! She might need a doctor!”

“You’re the doctor!”

Ah. Nao would have preferred they didn’t know she was actually injured, or weak, but there was nothing to be done about it. They seemed like good people anyhow, as far as pirates went.

“Well then, mister doctor, where’s your office?”

“A-ah! I don’t have a real office yet. We’ve been using the bathroom.”

“Then lead the way.”

The doctor, Tony Tony Chopper, guided her down to the bathroom. The Caravel was small without being cramped. Nao took off her boots and pants, now stained with blood, so he could clean and stitch her leg. He treated her smaller scrapes and bruises as well, and stuck bandaids across her cuts.

He left so she could clean herself properly, wash her hair and get the blood off of her. She watched the pink water wash down the drain and wondered where her crew was. What had happened to Elba, Talisa, Adrien and Pearl? Were Rize and Hinami still injured? Had the marine’s tended to their wounds? Tier had escaped into the sea before a blast from a marine flagship had sent them hurtling out of the little cove they’d been hiding in and beached their ship. Had she made it back to fishman island?

She needed to find out. She owed it to her crew after she had failed them all.

There was a knock on the door.

She cracked it open to find the blond man standing outside, holding a bundle of clothes in his arms. Her red hair dripped across her shoulders, but in a few minutes it would be dry and wildly curly again.

“I bought an extra outfit for Nami or Vivi, but now I see it was destiny that I have it ready for you!”

He had literal hearts in her eyes when he presented them to her.

Nao took them carefully. The clothes were lightweight and soft, so soft that they caught on the sword-callouses on her fingers.

“Thank you?” Her clothes weren’t ruined, by any means. Did she really need a new outfit?

“If you need any help changing I-”

She shut the door on his face. “Nope.”

They definitely didn’t recognize her. No one who did was stupid enough to flirt with her. Her dad would kill them.

Nao changed into the clothes and was disappointed to find that they were dancers clothes.

Yeah. No.

She couldn’t fight in that!

Instead she cleaned her pants as best as she could, used a small sewing kit she kept in her cape to fix the cut in them, and redressed.

She'll have to find a hair tie eventually.

When she came back up to deck the other man they’d run into was crouched on the outer rail. With his back partially to her while he chatted with someone else Nao caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his back.

It was familiar, too. He nodded to Nao when she came to stand beside the green haired man. Solo?

Most of his attention was on Luffy, not her.

“Luffy. Will you come join the Whitebeard Pirate Crew? With your friends, too, of course.”

Whitebeard pirates. Whitebeard. Edward Newgate.

Nao could feel a headache starting to throb behind her eyes.

“No way!”

The man laughed. “Just thought I'd ask! Whitebeard is the greatest pirate I've ever known. I want to make him the pirate king. Not you, Luffy.”

Nao internally winced. Brutal. They were obviously close. Childhood friends?

“That's okay! I'll just fight him.”

Nao blinked at Luffy’s back. Was he stupid? Or just crazy?

Either way, Nao liked him.

She couldn’t start her hunt for her crew yet. She didn’t know how long she was trapped, and she didn’t know where everyone had gone. She also wasn’t in any shape to go rushing off and finding out. Her mother would have killed her for doing something as impulsive as grabbing the nearest Marine and demanding to know where her crew had been taken. And her dad…

Her heart twisted in her chest. Nao shook her head. She wouldn't let herself have a breakdown yet. Not here. Not yet.

“Hey, Luffy.”

He turned his head to look at her. Nao offered him a half bow. “Sorry but, I’m going to have to take advantage of your hospitality for now. Until I can get in contact with my own crew.”

Luffy shot her cheerful grin. “Sure, okay. You can hang out with us for a while.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” the blue girl stepped forwards. Nao really needed to figure out everyone’s names. She only knew Luffy and Chopper. “We’re not here for tourism. Where we’ll be going is bound to be dangerous.”

Nao cocked her head. Yeah. “I appreciate you worrying. But I’m a pirate as much as anyone else. I won’t change my mind just because it’s dangerous.”

Besides, they were going to Yuba, where Nao was supposed to meet with her crew.

Molly should have already gotten there and set up shop.

“Wait for us, Moll. We’ll get there, even if it takes a while.”

Molly pursed her black-painted lips. “I don’t like it, captain. This splitting up stuff. You already sent Harry and Monty back to Zou. We’re stronger together.”

“I know we are. But with dad-”

“Don’t worry,” Nao looked the girl in the eye and lay her hand on Odenta’s hilt. “I won’t ask any of you to be responsible for me.”

“I am my own captain, after all.”

#one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #monkey d. luffy #original character #one piece strawhats #straw hat luffy #straw hat pirates

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deliberatelyvague · 4 years

Text

Avoidance (belphegor x gn!reader)

Started: April 5, 2020 at 4:02pm

Ended: April 5, 2020 at 5:01pm

Word Count: 1,714

Ships: [Belphegor x gn!reader]

Trigger Warning: self harm (cutting), [social] anxiety, anxiety in general, possibly OOC belphegor

Author’s Note: this was a request!! Thank you for the request, I’m more than happy to write them.

Request: Okay,,,hey,, If it would be alright would you maybe write a Belphie x selfharm reader who is like shy and has social anxiety,,? If not that's alright!,, Hope ya have a good day/night.

—————-

You hated that you always resorted back to this blade. The blade that you had for some reason been carrying on you when you entered the Devildom, so the only thing other than the clothes on your back that you had from the Human Realm.

You hadn’t even been planning on using it that day from your recollection, but your anxiety had been spiked for many reasons.

You didn’t have time to prepare to meet new people, and in result had a lot of issues adjusting to your new surroundings. You had grown used to them eventually, even becoming close friends with most of the people in the Devildom. You had your eyes set on one of the brothers for a while, and he eventually caught on and you went on a date, which included you both taking naps while watching a movie. The past few months have been amazing in your life.

So, why had you once again resorted to harming yourself? It was pretty simple. Your anxiety had piqued for no reason, or not any that you could come up with.

Maybe it was the stress of school, maybe it was your boyfriend showing you less attention? Wait, that was it.

Belphegor has been avoiding you for a few days now, which made you feel like you did something wrong. You knew that you should confront him about it, but your personality made it so that you avoided confrontation as much as you could.

So at nights you didn’t have Belphegor to comfort you when you got lost in your thoughts, so you ended up curled up in your bathroom, a blanket wrapped around you in the bathtub and crimson soaked blade in you hand as your other tried to catch the blood before it hit the tub.

You watched as the blood formed into droplets before being pulled down by gravity to the bottom of the tub. You had left the bathroom door opened but locked your actual bedroom door, to keep people out.

You watched as the few cuts you had on your wrist coagulated and you pushed yourself out of the tub, rinsing off and washing your wounds and hands before putting a few bandaids that you had pushed to the back of your cabinet on them. You noted that you needed to buy more gauze next time you could, and that opportunity presented itself quickly.

“[Y/N], I need to go to the store to restock the kitchen. Would you like to go with me?” You hear Satan’s voice call through the door after he knocked.

“Oh, uh, yeah! I’d like to go, hold on a second please,” you called back to him and quickly pulled on one of Belphegor’s hoodies that you had stolen when he slept in your room the last time.

You took in a deep breath and opened the door, greeted with a smiling Satan.

“Did Beel eat everything again, or..?” You asked, shoving your hands in the pocket and gazing down at the floor.

“No, surprisingly, I’d noticed that you had been acting a little off, so I decided that I would cook one of your favorite meals tonight. We didn’t have enough of a few things, so I figured I might at well go to the store. And it’s no fun going alone.”

You stopped and shook your head.

“Satan, you don’t need to make me a meal, I’m fine. It’s probably just hormonal changes,” you assure him, and he shakes his head.

“I want to, and even if it is hormones, now I’m craving [favorite meal], so I’m going to make it.”

You didn’t stop him but you sped up your pace a little bit to catch up to him.

“I also need to grab a few things if that’s alright.”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be.”

You felt a pair of eyes on you before you closed the gate to the House, but when you looked at the doorway and the windows you didn’t see anything.

On the way to the store you stayed close to Satan, but not close enough to make him uncomfortable, hopefully. He didn’t seem to mind at least, and it made you feel comforted knowing that if anything happened he wouldn’t let you get very hurt.

You went into the store with him and as he grabbed a few vegetables you thought you would try to show your disorder who’s boss and get your bandages without needing someone there with you.

As you were looking over the packages and seeing what the best deal was (was it the two rolls for 50 Grimm, one roll for 30 Grimm, or maybe the ten rolls for 200 Grimm?), you heard an unfamiliar voice next to you, asking you a question.

Your pulse quickened as you looked over, and there stood a demon, with an arrogant look on their face.

“What?” You asked them, palming the ten rolls of gauze.

“Aren’t you that human exchange student? Man you’re a little thing.”

You nodded, not looking then in the face before turning away. You felt their hand grip your wrist, and you winced, feeling the bandaids tear at your healing cuts, and you were horrified when you felt a warm liquid drip down onto your hand.

They seemed to notice the blood and sink their claws in more, ripping the sleeve of the hoodie to show the bleeding cuts and the fresh ones made from the claws.

“P-please don’t touch me,” you tried to order them, trying to get your wrist out of their grip, but they pulled you toward them, making you land on their chest.

Tears sprang to your eyes as you tried to push off of them. Why was no one helping you? Where was Satan, you had been gone for a while now, and he knows about your issues, so where was he? Where was anyone?

“No, little dove, I think I’ll keep you for a tasty treat tonight. It’s been so long since I had a human, and one as succulent as you should last me awhile.”

No one was showing up, Satan probably left you. It’s probably for the best, with how needy and clingy you were, that was probably his plan all along. All of the brothers probably agreed, then that means Diavolo had agreed because if not Lucifer would have told them not to and would have punished them for even bringing up that idea.

“N-no! Please, someone help! Please,” you called out, and suddenly the demon was thrown off of you and you were cradled into a chest, your eyes adjusting to the navy blue and cow print and you took a deep breath in, breathing the scent of your lover.

“Belphie,” you whimpered out, cringing to him, and he put his hand on the back of your head, stroking lightly on your hair.

“Let’s go home,” he spoke, and started leading you out of the store, placing another hand on the small of your back.

“B-but the gauze-”

“I have some in my bathroom, Cub,” he soothed. “Satan can deal with the poor excuse for a demon in there.”

The walk home was silent other than your shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. The blood hadn’t stopped running down your hand, attracting attention but the attention was immediately turned away when Belphie sent them a glare that could probably scare Lucifer.

Belphie led you up to his room, making you sit on the desk on his side of his and Beel’s room before leaving to your room, coming back minutes later and going to his bathroom. He came back with ointment and gauze, placing both those things down and also placing another object down. It gleamed in the light, and you let out a sharp breath.

“Belphie, I’m s-”

“Cub, I don’t want to hear your apologies. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he soothed as he dressed your cuts, both older and fresh, and pulled you to be standing. “Come with me, please.”

He picked up the blade and took your other hand, leading you to his bathroom.

“This is the only blade I found, is this the only one you have?” You nodded. “Use your words, Cub.”

“Yes, that’s the only one I have.”

“Okay,” he handed you the blade. “Flush it down the toilet.”

“What?”

“Flush it down the toilet, I don’t want it to be in any place to tempt you. Please, Cub. I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore.”

You looked back and forth between him and the toilet, before dropping the blade in the toilet and flushing it.

“That’s going to ruin the pipes,” you try to joke, but Belphie shrugged.

“That’s Lucifer’s problem.”

“I don’t think it’s only his problem.”

Belphie dragged you to his bed, laying down and bringing you to rest beside his chest.

“I don’t expect you to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable, but I’m here to talk anytime you want to, you know that, right Cub?”

“Yeah, I guess. I just felt like you were avoiding me, and it made me anxious.”

He let out a shaky breath and brought you closer to him.

“I’m sorry, Cub. Lucifer had been making me mad, and I just needed a little space from people.”

You giggle a little at that and look up at him with tired eyes.

“I love you,” you told him, and he smiled and brought you up to his face, connecting his lips with yours, and you laid your hands on his chest before separating.

“I love you too, Cub.”

You two laid in bed for a little while longer, both your breathing eventually becoming one as you both fell asleep holding each other.

————

This was written by me in no way trying to romanticize mental illnesses. I try to write what I feel would help me in the moment. I completely understand that mental illnesses don’t just ‘disappear’ when you’ve figured out that someone loves you or someone helps you once- that’s why I don’t write what happens after in most cases. If you are struggling, please reach out to anyone you trust, or call a hotline.

#obey me oneshots #obey me #obey me imagines #obeymeoneshots #obeymeimagines #obey me x reader #obeymexreader #belphegorxreader #belphegor x reader #shall we date #shall we date belphie #shall we date belphegor #belphegor imagines #belphie x reader #belphiexreader #belphegor oneshot #satan #obey me belphegor

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 4 years

Text

New Fic!

What May Said- happyaspie

Summary: When May goes out of town for a week to attend her best friend's wedding she allows Peter to remain in New York under Tony's care... but not before giving the man a list of rules to follow. Peter ends up being less than thrilled by how his time at the tower starts but with time, comes understanding. ...for both Tony and Peter.

-or- Nearly 5,000 words of Tony being an annoying helicopter dad.

Warnings: None Rated: G Word Count: 4846

Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker’s Parental Figure, Tony Stark is Trying his Best, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro... ...

It took less than forty-eight hours for Peter to begin regretting his agreement to stay with Tony while his aunt was off somewhere in Florida attending her best friend's wedding. Of course, he'd been given the option to come along as her plus one and spend a week at the beach but he'd declined in favor of his vigilantism. He couldn't be Queen's friendly neighborhood Spider-man if he as laying around on the beach for six days. However, bringing up his heroism as the main cause of his reluctance to join, may not have been the best idea.

"You know, as much as I love and respect your choice to go out and gallivant all over the city helping people, I'm not sure I want you doing that without me here," May had said when he'd first brought it up.

"I'd been doing it for months before you ever even found out about it and I was fine," Peter had replied without thought. Once again, realizing too late that maybe that hadn't been the right thing to say.

May marginally agreed with a nod of her head but clearly wasn't anywhere near convinces. "That may be so," she said, -"but now I know and I can't help but worry about you. What if something happens to you while I'm gone? -and who's going to make sure you do your homework before you go out and enforce your curfew?" he asked with mild concern.

"I'll be fine May. It's six days and only three of them are actual school days. I have Monday off," Peter had tried to reason but it was of no use. He could see the wheels in his aunt's head-turning and knew that if he wanted to be able to stay home, he needed to think fast. "If it'll make you feel better, I could stay with Ned," he said with a wave of his hand, hoping that offering to sleepover at his best friend's house would be a good compromise but clearly it wasn't.

With a knowing smile, May had crossed her arms over he chest and shook her head. "No way. If you're going to stay here, I want you and your alter-ego to be under some sort of supervision, and Ms. Leeds had no idea that you're Spider-man."

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes and suggested the only other solution he could come up with. "What if I stay with Mr. Stark? I stay there all the time on the weekends. I'm sure he won't mind. It might even be fun," he'd proposed even though he wasn't actually sure if Tony would mind or not. He didn't actually have any idea how his mentor typically spent his time during the week, though he assumed much of it was dedicated to working in his lab or going to meetings.

After some thought, it had been decided that staying at the tower would be sufficient and Tony had eagerly agreed. When May had said that she needed to talk to him in order to 'lay down some ground rules' Peter had been somewhat annoyed but not really worried about it. Seeing as he would be expected to be in school while she was gone, he'd gone ahead and assumed that she wanted to talk to him about homework and what time school started and whatnot. Things that, technically, he could handle all by himself but he'd not wanted to argue and end up being forced to accompany her to the wedding.

As the date grew closer, Peter started to become more and more excited about the idea of living with Tony Stark for a week. If the weekends were any indication then it was going to mean, a lot of take-out, goofing off around the penthouse and late nights in the lab. He knew he would still have to go to school and he was definitely planned to patrol regularly but he was looking forward to the change of pace that would be in between. He was sure it was going to be the best week of his life.

__________

It felt like an eternity but eventually, the day came. Peter hugged his aunt on his way out the door and endured what felt like the longest school day in the history of school days, waiting for the last bell to ring. Even then, he couldn't get to the tower fast enough. Public transportation seemed to be taking forever and he wholly regretted not taking Tony up on the offer to have Happy pick him up. However, the moment the bus finally paused at his stop, he went straight up to Tony's private floor, where he was met by the man himself. Though, he was looking decidedly dismayed.

"Is that blood?" Tony asked, never taking his off of where Peter's fingers were just peeking out of his sweater's overly long sleeves. "What happened?"

"Huh?" Peter replied as he followed Tony's gaze towards his right hand and held it up to inspect it. The man wasn't wrong. There was a small amount of blood dried around the tip of his ring finger. He didn' think it was that big of a deal. Especially since it took him several seconds to put together why his finger had been bleeding at all. "-Oh. My nail kept snagging on my sweater so I tried to bite it and it kind of ripped. I'm okay," he explained with a shrug of his shoulders but his mentor looked far from placated.

With a deep sigh, Tony took two long strides towards where Peter was still examining his hand. "You know," he said as he tried to get a better look at the damage himself. "May said for me to make sure that you don't get hurt while you're here. -and what do you do? You walk in, first thing, with blood on your fingers. Did you wash it?" he asked, more as a prompt than an inquiry. Obviously the kid hadn't washed it.

"Um..." Peter replied with a glint of a smile crossing his face. He wasn't really sure what to make of the dramatics.

Ignoring the mirthful look he was receiving, Tony took the boy by the shoulder and guided him towards the kitchen sink. "Come on, kid. Let's go get that cleaned up."

Peter followed along, all the way up until the man started pulling the first aid kit out from under the sink. Then he just laughed. "You know, it's probably already healed, right? I just need to wash my hands," he stated but when Tony glared at him, he relented. "Alright, geez. Whatever," he said, holding his hand out so that his mentor could pour peroxide over the practically non-existent injury.

Once he had been released from the kitchen with a bandaid wrapped around the tip of his finger, Peter carried his backpack into his room. As he piled what little bit of homework he had onto his desk he involuntarily shook his head. He wondered what exactly May had said to make Tony react as he had over something so mundane. He was pretty sure that when May had told the man not to let him get hurt, that him picking at his nails had been the least of her concerns.

The work that he'd been assigned took no time at all and Peter was soon wandering back into the living area, already suited up, ready to grab a snack before taking off. That was the routine that he and May had long since established and he assumed that Tony had been filled in on that. That is until the man he spotted the man staring at him from across the room with a confused look across his face.

"Are you going out already?" Tony asked as his eyes flicked between Peter and the large clock on the wall. The kid had been there for less than an hour and he wasn't one hundred percent convinced that enough time had passed for any kind of homework to have been completed. Not that he had any idea how long it should take but considering that the boy went to an advanced math and science school, he assumed it would take a while.

"Uh... Yes?" Peter replied, while hurriedly scarfing down a granola bar and a couple of cheese sticks. He couldn't quite sort out where that question was coming from.

"You did all of your homework already?" Tony asked dubiously.

Peter nodded his head, wiped the crumbs off of his hands over the sink, and downed a glass of water before answering. "All of it except studying for Spanish but I can do that when I get back," he said as he checked his web-fluid cartridges and started towards the door that led to the balcony he often leaped from. However, before he could cross the room, his mentor stepped between him and the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Nuh-uh. Go back to your room and study," Tony said, gesturing wildly towards the hallway behind the kitchen. "May said I'm supposed to double-check that all of your homework is done before allowing you to go out and it's not, so, go."

For a second, Peter cocked his head to the side in bemusement. He'd not meant to imply that he'd skipped out on some kind of big assignment. He just needed to go over a few things for an upcoming test. "It's just some flashcards, Mr. Stark," he clarified, "I can look at them before I go to bed."

"Nope," Tony said with full authority before nudging the teenager away from the door. "In fact, why don't you go get them? I'll sit down and go over them with you," he added because that seemed like the best way to guarantee that the kid actually got it done.

With a roll of his eyes, Peter tried to duck out of the hand that was still persistently prodding at his shoulder. "I don't need you to-" he began before deciding that it would be easier to just give in to the situation. It wasn't like there was much to study. Arguing would take up more time than the flashcards would. "- Alright. I'll go get them."

The second Peter out of the building he sighed in relief. Tony had been acting weird since he'd arrived and for the first time ever, he was happy to be outside of his presence for a while. Though given the way afternoon had gone, he half expected the man to call and check up on him at least once while he was but that never happened. He was even more surprised when he climbed back into the penthouse that evening, that the man wasn't sitting there waiting for him.

Assuming that FRIDAY had already told Tony that he was home and without injury, Peter went over to the fridge and warmed up some leftovers. The sandwich he'd bought earlier hadn't stuck with him and he was practically starving. He took his time finishing his plate, cleaned up after himself, and then went to take a shower and change into his pajamas before flopping onto his bed. He'd just finished texting Ned and was just getting into the book that MJ had loaned him when Tony came into the room without so much as a knock.

"Why are you up? It's past eleven and you have school tomorrow," Tony asked from where he'd paused in the doorway.

"Ten-forty-five is my curfew, not my bedtime, Mr. Stark," Peter gently teased before trying to bring his attention back to his book.

"I'm pretty sure the whole point of the curfew is to keep you from staying up all night. May said that you're supposed to get a minimum of eight hours of sleep. That means you should be asleep by eleven-thirty," Tony said, already crossing the room with the intention of prying reading material out of the kid's hands. He'd just managed to get his fingers on it when the teenager jerked it out of his reach.

"-Mr. Stark!" Peter squawked, still keeping a tight grip in the book. "I'm reading. It's not like I'm playing video games and chugging energy drinks," he complained but his words didn't seem to affect his mentor at all. The man, while no longer trying to get the book out of his sticky hands, was still looking at him with his brows knit together.

Not looking to start a fight but also not wanting to give in so easily, Peter tossed the book onto the bedside table with more force than necessary. "Fine. I'm going to bed," he said and then poignantly rolled over so that his back was to the door. Yet even with all of his irritation, he couldn't stop himself from tacking on a quiet, "Good-night, Mr. Stark," once the man had turned off his lamp for him.

"Good-night, Buddy," Tony softly returned, patting the disgruntles kid gently on the back as he clicked the door closed

Peter went right to sleep and by morning, the previous day's irritation had already been forgotten. He rolled out of bed, went to the kitchen to have some juice, and then popped back into his room to get ready for the day. He realized as he was throwing his clothes on that he still didn't really know what Tony did while he was at school but he assumed that whatever it was didn't require him to be up at seven-thirty in the morning. As such, when he heard his name being called as he ran towards the elevator, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Hey, Pete! Where the fire?" Tony chuckled from the kitchen. When his early alarm had done off, he'd considered not getting up to see the kid off but now he was glad he had. Apparently the boy was planning on bolting out the door without eating any breakfast and he wasn't about to let that happen. "Get back over here and eat something"

"I had some juice when I got up, Mr. Stark, and I'm going to buy some doughnuts on the way to school," Peter said with a smile. He appreciated that his mentor wanted to make sure that he was eating but he already had that covered. The plan was to grab something from the corner store so there would be time to meet up with Ned before class. They had a lot to talk about.

"Doughnuts aren't exactly a healthy breakfast, kiddo," Tony said with a smile. He knew it was a little hypocritical considering he only planned on having a few cups of coffee to start the day but the kid didn't need to know that. "I bought some yogurt and there's a whole bowl of fruit here on the counter. How about some of that instead?"

"You made me chocolate chip waffles for breakfast just last Saturday," Peter blandly returned, though he was quick to note that his mentor looked completely unimpressed by his assessment.

"Yeah, but this is a school day and May said that I needed to make sure you were eating things with actual nutritional value while you were here," Tony returned without missing a beat.

"Well, the good news is that I have an enhanced metabolism. I make sure to double up on the veggies at lunch," Peter replied before turning his back to leave. "Bye, Mr.-" he began but was interrupted when banana hit him right smack in the back of his head. "Hey! What was that for?" he called out over his shoulder with a glare.

Rather than answering the question, Tony pointed towards the fruit that was still laying on the floor at the kid's feet and gritted his teeth. "Eat the banana and then you can go," he hissed. All he wanted the kid to do was to eat something of substance before he left and the boy was being difficult. It was annoying and he suddenly wondered if that was what Rhodey felt like every time he had to drag him away from his books, to the campus cafeteria while they were at MIT. He made a mental note to, sort of, apologize for that at some point. Then his thoughts were interrupted by the kid shouting at him.

"You can just throw food at me and think that-" Peter started to growl, still rubbing the back of his head where the fruit had struck him. It hadn't hurt so much as he was trying to make a point. Although that point was tossed to the side the moment Tony picked up an apple and it looked like he was about to throw that at him too. "-Okay, okay. I get it. I'll eat the stupid banana. Are you happy now?" he asked, as he aggressively tugged at the peel and took a bite.

"Yes. Very," Tony said with an approving nod of his head. Then he smiled sweetly and told the kid to have a good day before disappearing down the hall with a mug of coffee in his hands.

After that, going to school almost seemed like a blessing. He still managed to get there early and sat on the steps sharing his hurriedly purchased doughnuts with his best friend while he ranted about the previous twenty-four hours. "It's crazy! He's crazy. I'm telling you, Ned, he worse than May. It's weird," he grumbled while Ned smiled back at him. "-and It's not funny."

"It kind of is," Ned replied as he pulled the last sugary pastry out of the bag and broke it in two. "He's acting like your dad and, I'm sorry, but that's hilarious," he elaborated with a grin, offering his friend, the slightly larger half.

While Ned was willing to laugh it all off, Peter wasn't. He'd been expecting to have an easy-going care-free week, out from under May's watchful eye. Tony taking over her role with such vigor had been unexpected but he tried to stay optimistic, hoping that by the time he got back to the tower, the man would be back to his usual laid-back, if not slightly sarcastic self.

Except it would not work out that way. He left school in a generally good mood, followed Ned home so that they could exchange some quick notes and then caught the next bus to Manhattan. Upon his arrival, he took the elevator straight to the penthouse to get started on his homework and was met at the door by his mentor who looked five kinds of frazzled. "Uh... is everything okay, Mr. Stark?" he asked, wondering what could have possibly happened to make the man appear as though he'd been trying to pull his hair out.

"Where have you been! I've been looking all over for you!" Tony barked in return, while simultaneously pulling Peter into a nearly strangling hug.

"I went to Ned's house after school for a few minutes," Peter replied while rapidly tapping the man's arm in an attempt to get him to let up. Once he'd been released, he took an overly dramatic breath and shook his backpack and jacket off onto the floor. "We're doing a history project together and I needed to get his notes so I can start my part of it."

"-And you didn't think to tell me that you were going to be late?" Tony questioned in a tone that was somewhere between relieved and mildly annoyed. He knew the day hadn't exactly started out on the right foot and had been a little worried that the kid had decided to not come back. He'd spent the last ten minutes wondering how he was supposed to explain that to May without her climbing through the phone to strangle him. He was sure if anyone could do that, it would be her.

"Honestly?" Peter replied with a defeated sigh, "No, because it's not that big of a deal, Mr. Stark. I'm only twenty-five minutes later than I was yesterday," he said because it wasn't. He could understand the man being upset if he'd walked in an hour later than expected but twenty-five minutes? That was nothing. Especially when you thought about how bad New York traffic could get at times.

"I was worried, Pete!" Tony strained. "May said for me to make sure that you get to and from school every day and you couldn't be bothered to let me know that you would be late?" he asked, gesturing towards the kid's backpack. "You have a phone, you know."

That was it. That was all Peter could take before he finally snapped. "Would you stop it! I'm sorry I didn't call you or something but you're acting all crazy over nothing. Even May wouldn't freak out over less than half an hour and it's not like you called me either!" he shouted, instantly regretting it when his mentor raised an eyebrow at the volume.

"No," Tony replied with less aggravation than he was feeling. Some of it towards himself. He knew Peter was right, he probably should have tried to call before anything else but he'd automatically assumed that the kid had jumped straight into the spider-suit rather than returning home. When he'd not gotten a location he'd worried that the tracker had been removed again and had been solely focused on that. "I was too busy checking the suit to make sure you didn't sneak off early, May said-"

"-Oh my god! Enough of what May said! Just stop it. You're not actually in charge of me and I don't need you micromanaging everything I do!" Peter pressed, turning around the moment he'd said his piece to stomp off towards his room.

The room quickly grew quiet and Tony was suddenly ambushed by a mixture of hurt and remorse. It hadn't been his intention to make the kid feel like he was being excessively authoritative. He'd just been trying to do the right thing. May had adamantly drilled it into his head that Peter staying for the week was very different than him staying for the weekend and had made him swear to keep tabs on the teenager's safety and well being for the duration of her absence. She'd said, she trusted him and he'd not wanted to mess that up. Though it seemed he'd messed up anyway, just not in the way he'd expected.

With a deep sigh, Tony ran his hands down his face and dropped down onto the couch. He considered calling May and asking her what he was supposed to do but decided against it. He figured that since he'd dug himself into the hole, that he could dig himself out. Starting with an apology. Though, he opted to give the kid a little while to cool off first. Just enough time for him to throw some premade cookie dough into the oven, pour a glass of milk and place it all onto a tray.

With everything balanced, on one hand, Tony knocked lightly on the kid's door. When he was given the okay to enter, he tentatively stepped in. "A cookie for your thoughts?" he asked as he placed the tray onto the corner of the boy's desk that didn't have homework strew across it.

Rather than accepting or even declining the way, gooey offering, Peter dropped his pencil and sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. It's just that, that-" he said, pausing briefly to collect his thoughts, "-Usually when I come over here it's fun but this time it's been different and I hate it," he finished, chacing only one small glance Tony's direction. He wasn't trying to sound ungrateful. He just needed the man to understand why he was so frustrated.

Tony chuckled a little at the kid's hesitation. "Yeah, well, If it makes you feel any better, this hasn't exactly been thrilling for me either," he said with a long sigh, "-but this is the first time your aunt has said that she actually trusted me with you and I didn't want to screw it up," he added before allowing his frown to morph back into a mirthful smirk. "She's scary when she's mad."

Peter laughed because he couldn't disagree with that. May was a little scary when she was mad. "Yeah, she is," he agreed with a nod of his head. "It's just that she gave you all of these rules and stuff but she's not even that strict about them. I mean, she is, she just doesn't get all crazy over them. Like, she lets me stay up and read in my bed and she doesn't freak out if I don't come straight home from school," he said.

"I guess I can understand that, Kiddo," Tony said, grabbing Peter's shoulder so that he could spin him around in the swivel chair that he was seated in. Once he had the boy's attention on him he smiled. "I didn't mean to stress you out I was just wanted to prove to your aunt that I could do this and I don't even know why," he continued with a roll of his eyes. At that point, he really wasn't sure what he'd been thinking. "You're right. I was being over the top."

"Maybe just a little," Peter replied with a small half-smile.

Tony chuckled, Patted, the teenager on the knee, and handed him a cookie. "I think we should probably talk about all of this. You can tell me where I went all crazy so that the rest of the week can go by a bit more smoothly. What do you say?" he asked with a gentle smile. He wasn't sure why he'd not done that in the first place. Peter was a good kid. He should have known that the boy didn't need anyone breathing down his neck for him to do the right things. He wondered if May's insistence had been about ensuring that he would behave, more so than Peter. Now that he thought about it, everything she'd said could probably be translated to, 'Don't hide in your lab, have something besides pizza in your freezer, don't keep him up at all hours and don't you dare encourage him to skip school,' he thought to himself with a roll of his eyes.

"Sure," Peter replied. He was more than willing to have that discussion. Especially if it meant things could go back to something a bit more 'normal.'

"Great." Tony said with a clap of his hands. "Why don't you go ahead and finish up your homework and maybe hang out here for the afternoon. I can order some Thai food for an early dinner if you'd like, and then you can go swing around the city for a little while after."

Peter grinned and squinted his eyes into a playful glare. "That depends. Are you going to throw a banana at my head if I eat around some of the vegetables?" he asked, working hard to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape him.

"Nah, I'll throw a carrot at your head instead," Tony instantly replied. "The bananas are for breakfast."

"Mr. Stark!" Peter dramatically whined, breaking into a laugh at the end. Things already seemed better. Tony had admitted that he'd been being a little overbearing and that was enough to allow himself to relax again.

With a smile, Tony sighed in relief. He'd not realized how much he loved and had been missing the sound of Peter's laugh until that very minute. "Oh, stop with the whining and finish your homework," he teased as he gently swatted at the boy's thigh. Then just before he got up from where he'd settled himself on the edge of the bed, he glanced towards the work piled up on the desk. "Do you need any help with anything before I go?"

Peter opened his mouth to say that he had it under control but he stopped himself before he could get the words out. Ned's comment about the man acting like his dad was suddenly hitting him pretty hard. He could see that now and it made him smile a little. "I guess you could help me study for my Spanish test if you want to, Mr. Stark," he said, as he casually took another cookie off of the tray.

"I'd love to, Pete," Tony replied and accepted the stack of cards being handed to him. "Eres mi pequeño araña," he said with a soft smile.

Peter offered his mentor one of the many cookies that were still sitting between them and smiled back. "I'm pretty sure that's not going to be on the test but, sure. Soy tu pequeño araña," he said and from there, the remainder of his time there went without incident. As long as you didn't count the mild argument that took place the following evening when Peter called Raiders of the Lost Arc 'a really old movie.'

" Peter Benjamin Parker, I swear to god, that's it. Go to your room and don't come out. I'm watching this by myself."

#happyaspie writing #my ao3 #irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #tony stark & peter parker #marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfic #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure #helicopter dad tony #spider man #iron man #marvel fanfiction #spider-man fanfiction

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atlas-tries · 4 years

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Shatter Me Chapter 3: Shatter Me

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Summary: Patton finds a painful memory and Janus has a vision. Will it be enough to thwart the outcomes that await?

Notes: Redundant, no? Not gonna lie, fam, it's about to get to the darkest point. Trigger warnings for character death.

“Patton, are you sure you aren’t a hoarder?” Virgil asked, pushing aside a mountain of plushies where he had been unfortunate enough to land. This was the first time the anxious side had been in Patton’s room since he moved to their part of the Mindscape (also the first time he had ever been to Patton’s room) and Patton was beside himself to have him here.

“Absolutely! I just like to keep a few sentimental things around to look at when I’m feeling down,” Patton replied. “But I guess it uh, wouldn’t hurt to clean up a little. Gotta make room for more memories, right? I actually have the energy to do it now!”

Virgil looked at Patton with a lopsided grin. “Wait, what? You, not having the energy to do something? How’d that happen?”

“Ah right, you weren’t here for uh … all of that. Let’s just say I was recovering from an injury I got several months ago,” Patton said, instantly noting the worried change in Virgil’s expression. “Hold on, it’s alright, I’m alright now, see?” He lifted his shirt to showcase the few tiny cracks that remained. “I’m almost completely healed. Logan even gave me his seal of approval!” He pulled out a little medallion with Logan’s bespectacled brain signet on it. “See?”

Virgil breathed out a visible sigh of relief. He shook a finger at Patton. “Awesome,” he said, his voice cracking a little at the end.

“Alright, so you said you were looking for …” Patton started.

“… this one angsty poem Thomas wrote in high school. I thought I’d uh, spice the ruminating up a little when Thomas heads to bed tonight,” Virgil replied. “No better way to fall asleep than thinking about everything that’s gone wrong or that will go wrong, am I right?”

Patton smiled. “Sure, kiddo, as long as they’re balanced with happier thoughts during the daytime! Let’s see, I think what you’re looking for is over here.” He ran toward his version of the staircase that was piled high with boxes and other larger memorabilia that wouldn’t fit on the bookshelf. He glanced through a few of them, perking up a little when he came to the box on the fourth stair. “I think this is it!” He grabbed the box and ran back to Virgil.

“Keep them as long as you need them,” Patton said with a smile. He handed it over to Virgil, who nearly doubled over from the weight of the things inside. Virgil choked out a thanks and quickly sank out.

“Well, that’s one box temporarily dealt with. Now, about the rest of this marvelous mountain of memories …” Patton, though he would never outrightly admit it, didn’t like moving things around very much. It filled him with dread just thinking about moving something somewhere he would inevitably forget about it. Maybe it would be better to start smaller? He looked around for somewhere less cluttered to start. Finally, his eyes landed on the overflowing box labeled New Memories. “That’ll do for now.” He took the box carefully upstairs to his bedroom and got to work sorting its contents.

In around half an hour, everything was categorized into neat little piles that could be easily transferred to other more fitting storage spaces. Patton began collecting everything from the Friends and Coworkers pile and carried them to his dresser. The top drawer was for everything related to Joan. Admittedly, this one was getting a little bloated from all the fun stuff they and Thomas had ever done together. Still, Patton managed to find space for the newer memories in the crevices that remained. The rest made their way into their respective drawers, packed in tightly with all the rest of them.

Patton closed the drawers, smiled, and put his hands on his hips. “Perfect!” he said. Now all that was left was to take the box back to his version of the living room. He picked the box up and startled when it hissed at him. Something was still in there. He peeked into the box at the thing that had just slid toward him, an upside-down picture frame from the looks of it. Steadying the box with one hand, he reached in and flipped it over.

The last memory he had of Thomas’s now ex-boyfriend stared up at him from the bottom of the box.

His hands trembled a little as he stared at this frighteningly still image. “Nope nope nope, not today,” he said, closing the box and walking as quickly as he could to put it back where it belonged. Despite ridding himself of the visual, this memory was still going to make itself heard in the only way it knew how. Patton clutched at his chest hard and the box crashed to the living room floor. “N-not again …”

He sat down on the stairs a moment to regain control of his breathing. Searing lines thrummed in time with his heartbeat, dulled but not forgotten. This was another reason why he never bothered to clean up: too much of a chance to reopen old wounds. Patton rose with a wince to get that recording of the Rainforest Rap. That song always helped cheer him up. He kept the song on repeat until he felt some semblance of normalcy again.

For the rest of the week, Patton lay awake during the nights, praying that the darkness would somehow take away the memories that hurt him so. It, as many spectral entities do, provided no such reprieve. Certainly not enough to quell the ache settling further into his core as the days passed. Taking liberties in his duties here and there made things far more manageable. Just yesterday, Patton suggested Thomas indulge in a half a pack of Oreos and he listened. The day before, he had come thiiiiiis close to getting an actual bouncy castle! And today, Patton had one little plan he thought everyone would jump for (but not in a bouncy castle).

If everything went according to Patton’s plan, they would spend the next 48 hours rewatching The Office in a blanket fort with Thomas’s closest friends. They could all use a break right about now, what with Roman steamrolling through coming up with new concepts, Logan pulling all-nighters researching for new videos, and Virgil making sure everyone was staying on time with Logan’s schedule. He couldn’t wait to see how everyone else liked this idea! He was already out the door and nearly to the stairs when he heard muffled shouting coming from the living room below.

“—not seriously thinking of going along with this latest plan, are you? I have far too much to plan if we’re to keep this project at its utmost quality!”

Patton stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs.

“I know, Roman, I’m concerned about this, too. We’re woefully behind schedule as it is,” Logan added. “If we don’t do something about this, my carefully constructed calendar will collapse under the weight of his impulse decisions.”

“But how are we even supposed to bring that up to him? He’s been acting weird all week, I know,” Virgil bit, “but you know how Pat takes these things, L.” Patton bit his lip to keep from making noise as the cracks grew once more.

“The best way to do that is to do like you said earlier Virgil, rip it off like a metaphorical Bandaid. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to do this.”

So. Patton had gone overboard these past few days with his contributions.

How many other times had he put the other sides in this exact same situation? They were all supposed to be in this together. Weren’t they …?

There was only one way to fix this. Fixing his cardigan and his expression, Patton plodded heavily down the stairs to announce his arrival. “Hey kiddos! Oh, good, you’re all here together, that’ll save me a few trips back upstairs,” he said cheerily.

“Don’t tell us, Padre, you have another idea?” Roman asked. His smile looked so forced.

“Kinda! So I was just thinking that since we are so behind schedule, a 2 day binge-fest might not be the greatest idea I’ve come up with. So instead of that, how about we work on this next concept together tonight?”

Jaws all around the room dropped. “Wait, what? I thought …” said Virgil, looking to the others.

Roman picked up where Virgil left off, “Patton, I believe that’s the best idea you’ve had all week!” He stepped closer. “How shall we go about it? At the dumb boring regular table here, or at the Round Table in the Imagination to help stimulate all the best thoughts?”

“Hmm, that’s intriguing, Roman. It would certainly be easier than trying to keep track of all our thoughts on paper,” Logan added.

“Hey Logan, I guess you say it’s a …” Patton started.

Logan’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Virgil snickered.

“… well-Round-ed idea,” said Patton.

Virgil and Roman couldn’t help smiling watching this play out. Logan groaned. “I will ignore that this one time because you made a worthwhile effort to get us back on schedule, but I do hope that you’ll spend a little more time thinking about what words you want to arrange in a sentence. And make them less … pun-filled.”

“I’ll try not to have too much pun, but I can’t make any promises!” Patton said.

Logan said nothing further, opting instead to vacate the premises as quickly as possible. “I’ll uh, go with him and we’ll get everything set up in the Imagination,” said Roman, running after him.

“Well, I guess that just leaves you and me, kiddo! Whaddaya say we make some snacks for everyone? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us today!”

Virgil nodded. “As long as I can spit on something meant for Roman,” he said.

“I’ll let you have the cookie batter bowl,” Patton replied.

“Deal.”

Between the two of them, Patton and Virgil were able to make somewhat quick work of a heaping plate of hot cookies and several plates of sandwiches for everyone to enjoy. Sure, they may have gotten more flour and other assorted foodstuffs on them than into the finished products on the counter, but it was the fun they had doing it that mattered. Both of them decided that it would be best to change out of their dirty clothes before carrying everything into the Imagination.

Patton sunk into his version of the kitchen, which was considerably more cluttered than the common area kitchen. He stepped over a few stray memories before making it into the clearer living room. That was when he noticed Deceit sitting on his couch worrying his gloved hands. Softly, Patton called out, “Dee?”

Deceit startled and turned quickly to see Patton. “Um,” he said, clearing his throat and brushing down the front of his cloak, “you certainly didn’t sneak up on me.”

“What brings you back to my neck of the ‘burbs?” asked Patton.

Deceit stood from the couch. “We’re just getting so well acquainted that I thought I’d stop by for tea— and to give a warning. I know they’ve been growing again.”

Patton smiled sadly. “I guess I can’t really hide this from you. But you should know, this time—”

“It’s not their fault, I’m well aware. But doesn’t this make it the best time to tell them? The pressure is off. You don’t even have to tell them in a direct way!” Deceit said, taking Patton’s hands in his own. His eyes were alight with worry. “You just need to tell them.”

“I know I need to, but … it’s so hard to do. I’d be hurting them, I know I would.”

Deceit looked down and sighed. He brought his gaze quickly back up to Patton’s, staring with an intensity that Patton had never seen from him before. “You need to tell them,” he whispered slowly. “I saw something on the horizon. Something bad. As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t want that vision to be about you.”

That was a bit startling. Patton knew it wouldn’t get that far, but … could it? “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell them.” That earned him a split-second smile from Deceit.

“That’ll do, Patton. That’ll do. What in the world is on my gloves?” Deceit said, sinking out.

“Cookie dough!” Patton called after him. “And probably some mayo. Oh, he probably didn’t hear me. Now what was I doing again? Oh yeah, clothes, brainstorming, Imagination!” He quickly ran upstairs to the bathroom to get changed and emerged from his room less than a minute later and grabbed what food Virgil hadn’t. Maybe if he busied himself enough, he would be able to forget Deceit’s visit. He wouldn’t think about the panic behind his crumbling facade, or the thinly veiled pleas he made.

But that would all be a lie. Something had him deeply troubled, and when Deceit was the one giving out a warning in earnest, it bode better to listen. But how to go about it? Patton sighed. “Alright, Patton, let’s just focus on getting to the others right now,” he said to himself. He closed his eyes and thought about the others, and about castles, knights, and everything that made Roman happy.

When he opened them again, he was in the Imagination.

Or rather, he was in a field in the Imagination, right in front of Roman’s towering castle. It was a perfect amalgamation of Gothic architecture and pure Disney magic that made Patton’s nostalgia meter burst through the roof. He ran through the front gates with appropriate gusto and was thrilled to see the others there around the table already, quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Ah, Patton, we were starting to think you forgot how to get here again. Come, let us formally begin this brainstorming bash!” Roman said cheerily.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton squealed, trying to sound as normal as possible. He set down the cookie platter and took a seat in the high-backed chair with his new symbol on it.

“First things first, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page before we begin,” Logan said, summoning papers for all of them. “In order to maximize our output, Roman, Virgil, and I have decided to remove some of the thought filters from the castle for this session. This means that any particular thought, if it’s focused enough, will manifest in here for all of us to review. According to my own independent research, this should boost our productivity by 42% with a .03% margin of error.”

Patton’s eyes widened a little. He really didn’t want to interrupt their work, but this new system would definitely cause problems if he didn’t come clean now. So, Patton gathered every last bit of gumption that he had and shouted, “I have a confession to make!”

The others backed up a little, startled that Patton could be so loud, but quickly recomposed themselves. “Go ahead, Patton,” said Logan, straightening his tie.

Patton thanked him, doing his best to not squirm in his seat. He knew they wouldn’t react well, but maybe saying it now would keep thoughts about it from popping up later. “I uh, wanted to get this out of the way before we get down to business. But um … I think I might be breaking again.”

“Come again?” Virgil asked.

Patton slid the collar of his shirt down enough to reveal several deep fissures. “These things. They’re growing again,” he said. “Started earlier this week. I just didn’t want that popping up without warning and ruining our work. Anyways, um, what ideas are we working with here, Roman?”

“Wait, breaking? Like, breaking breaking? Oh God, Patton, are you dying? You’re dying, aren’t you? Oh God, no! What stops death?! Logan?!” Virgil cried frantically.

Patton quickly said, “Virgil, Virgil, breathe, I’m not dying. In for four seconds, there you go, hold it for seven seconds. You’re doing great. Just listen to the sound of my voice. Out for eight. Good job, keep it up.”

Logan got out a pen and notepad. “Again? And you say they started earlier this week? Do you remember which day it was?” he asked.

“The day I started cleaning up my room. Uh, what day was that again?” Patton said, still doing his best to softly coach Virgil back down to a calmer state.

“Padre … I thought there weren’t going to be any more secrets about this,” said Roman. The hurt look he gave to Patton about killed him where he sat.

“It wasn’t so much a secret as it was an ‘I-got-a-little-busy-and-kept-forgetting’ kind of thing. I never meant to keep it from you, any of you,” Patton replied. A tiny, glowing orb dripped from Patton’s chest. A thought. He pushed it down between his hand and the seat to trap it, knowing that it would unveil his lie. For good measure, he slung a leg over his hand.

“You were cleaning that day…” Logan mused. “I may have some theories that explain this phenomenon, though it is currently up to speculation. Allow me to elaborate. Patton, it seems that stressing yourself beyond your limits could potentially be the cause of this. You have certainly been going out of your way with your work this week. I believe we all recall the … bouncy castle idea. This could be leading to a lack of self-care needed to perform adequately.”

Patton nodded slowly with as real a smile as he could muster. “Yyyyyeah, that could be it,” he said, shoving down another treacherous thought as it popped out. It brought up memories of all the passing comments Logan made about his character.

“Uh, Pops? Whatcha … doin’ over there?” Virgil asked.

Patton stiffened. “Nothing, just, uh … Practicing a new kind of exercise?” Another one flitted out, pointing to being too overbearing with Virgil. “Hey, is that a dragon coming up to the castle?”

Everyone turned to look while Patton conjured a slingshot, flung that icky thought out the other window. and recaptured the one that had come out from beneath his leg.

“No, that’s a tapestry, Padre. It literally couldn’t hurt you if it wanted to,” Roman said. “Not that I would ever let it!”

Patton smiled. “You’re my hero, Roman,” he said.

Roman blushed a little to that. “Aw, Pat,” he gushed.

Another thought came up, a memory of a time Roman had taken him on one of his adventures. He had wanted to tend to a little wounded animal they came across and nearly got them killed because of it. Patton clapped his hand painfully over his heart to keep that one from surfacing. With a whimper and a slight grimace, he replied, “I mean it, Ro.”

Virgil was getting extremely antsy where he sat. “Okay, um … This is weird, right? Like, this just feels wrong.”

“Virgil has a point, you are behaving rather strangely, Patton,” said Logan. “Do you have something you’d like to add?”

With the focus being on what started this, another memory surfaced. The one that had started it again. Patton tried to bite that one as it meandered past. Curse these full hands! He missed by a mile, leaving it to float effortlessly to the center of the table.

“A thought?” Logan said. “Unconventional, but it’s an intriguing choice.”

It began to play. Patton was in his room, sorting through the new memories box. The last few were being tucked away. It skipped to him looking back in the box to see what was left. It showed him, holding the picture. Him, clutching his chest. Him, stumbling to the floor. As if on cue, the cracks thrummed in recognition. Thank goodness he already had a hand over them because it almost took his breath away. The memory evaporated, leaving the others to simply look with jaws slightly agape.

Patton could only look down at the table. These old wounds were reopening in the worst of ways, and now his closest friends would find out the truth. Logan finally broke the silence. “So, that’s how it happened.”

Patton nodded wordlessly.

“This was months ago,” Logan said.

“It was a busy time for me,” Virgil added. “Switching from everything Thomas did wrong to worrying that Thomas will never find love again got to be so exhausting.”

“I admit even I became a bit disheveled by his absence,” Logan said, looking down.

“I nearly ducked out over this. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, Patton,” said Roman.

Patton still couldn’t bring himself to look up. He knew there were pent up tears threatening to fall if he did. “It … it was hard … and seeing a reminder of it …” he whispered.

Logan sighed. “I believe your best course of action is clear,” he said. “You simply need to let the past be the past.”

“But … what about all of the good times we had with him? I don’t want to leave them behind,” Patton said softly.

“Patton, these memories are physically hurting you. I can’t understand why you would rather suffer endlessly instead of just letting one person go.”

You’re too sentimental to save yourself from dying.

Patton’s face contorted and a small whine escaped his throat. Those insidious cracks lengthened once more, each one feeling like a knife tracing its way through his skin.

Roman stood abruptly. “Now look what you’ve done, Quantum of Soulless!” Roman cried, motioning to Patton. Logan rose from his seat, trying to get a better look from across the table.

“Roman …” Patton lightly scolded. “Pl-please be nice.”

Roman huffed. “Sorry. What I mean is this situation needs a bit more delicacy than Logan’s robotic demeanor could ever hope to provide.” Roman walked over to Patton and put a hand gently on his arm. Logan was making his way over, too, notepad in hand. “Now Padre, you know how much I came to you when this was all fresh. We did our best to hold each other up, but even now, I still feel lost. I can’t tell you how much I yearn to have our beloved return, or how much I want to call him after all this time.”

Patton sniffled a little, putting his hand over Roman’s and leaning his head against his arm. “I know, I want him back too,” he said.

“I think we all do. But I think it might also be time to start boxing up some of those old memories. We can even help you start!” Roman said. Virgil shook his head. Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay, I can help you start.”

“But I don’t want to forget … I wouldn’t even know where, or how, to start. We had so many good memories together that I don’t want to lose,” Patton blubbered.

“I know it’s difficult, but we aren’t children anymore, Padre. I know the relationship ending was for the best and I’ve been striving every day to remain strong. I also know that you wouldn’t be leaving everything behind if you do the adult thing and let the ghosts of the past go.”

You’re too naive to understand what needs to be done.

Patton doubled over, groaning as the cracks split further down his limbs and up his neck. Bile burned at the back of his throat, and he could taste the coppery twang of essence. He felt another wary hand on him. “P-Pops?” came Virgil’s wavering voice. “I… Thomas was being too overbearing. That wasn’t your fault!”

YOU were being too overbearing. YOU were what drove him away.

Patton cried out in agony as his skin split down to his fingertips and over his face to the top of his head. Small chips of skin were beginning to fall away with tiny tinks as they hit the floor, displaying the bright blue beneath. He could feel the front of his shirt begin to dampen.

“I don’t get it! We’re trying to help, why isn’t this working?” Virgil cried. “Why are they getting worse?!”

Logan came up to Patton, attempting to lean him back with utmost care. “Perhaps just talking about the subject of his pain is what’s causing them to worsen,” he said. As soon as he looked at the frail fatherly side, his demeanor changed. “Virgil, get a first aid kit. Roman, help me lay him on the table. Now!”

The others, at first too stunned to move, burst into action as quickly as they could. Patton screamed as they repositioned him on the table, hyperventilating from the pain. “Hang in there, Padre, please hang in there!” came Roman’s muffled voice. Logan was reaching for the hem of his shirt. He mouthed something to him. Patton felt something glide across his skin from his navel to his neck. Wait, when did Logan get scissors? And where was his shirt? And why did the others look so horrified? Those questions seemed inconsequential to the truth staring down at Patton, demanding he tell it.

“It w-was my fault,” Patton croaked.

Logan started threading a needle. Virgil was carding his fingers through Patton’s hair anxiously. Roman looked at him with incredulous eyes. “What are you talking about?” asked Roman.

“Th-the breakup,” Patton replied. Warmth was trickling down over his ribcage and soaking his back. “A-and everything e-else.” Logan tried his best to stick the needle through solid skin, but it just chipped further. Patton coughed, a bit of blue making its way past his lips.

“Everything else? Patton, you’re not making sense,” Logan said, trying the same thing again with the same result.

Patton whimpered, “I-I know that I’m always … messing th-things up. I forget s-so much … I kn-know that you think I’m t-too sentimental t-to do my job. Th-that I’m too … naive t-to see the truth right in … front of me. That I’m s-so over … o-overbearing that I drove him away. If it w-weren’t for … all of you t-to rein me in … I-I’d make Thomas into a… w-worthless mass of a man.”

You are worthless.

“C-Compression. Let’s try compression,” Logan said.

“Pat … is this … is this what caused all of this?” Roman asked. His eyes shimmered.

“You can’t seriously think that,” Virgil said, his hands becoming shaky.

Patton cried as Logan pressed firmly in the center of his chest. More fragments broke free and with them, Logan’s hands went straight through into Patton’s chest. Patton nearly passed out. Logan quickly withdrew his hands.

“Ohhhh my God, oh my God, Logan, what did you do?!” shouted Virgil. “What do we do now?!”

Patton coughed violently, essence spluttering from his lips in a steady stream.

Logan could only stand there, frozen in horror, staring at his blue hands.

“Logan?!” Roman cried.

“I … I don’t know …” came Logan’s voice, barely above a whisper. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

“You can’t die on us, Patton, please, we need you!” Virgil sobbed.

Roman grasped Patton’s hand delicately. It began to shatter like porcelain barely held together. Despite the jagged edges, Roman still lifted it to his cheek, holding on like it was the only anchor in a violent sea. “Y-you’ll … all be … alright … without me … Just … p-promise me … y-you won’t … blame yourselves …” Patton gasped.

He couldn’t hold it together when bigger pieces of him began breaking away from the rest of his body. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t see. But still, his mouth made the words.

“I… l-love… you.”

With a final shuddering breath, he was gone.

---

Janus knew that meddling with what his foresight told him never aided the outcome.

He knew this, but he tried anyway.

It wasn’t that he particularly liked Patton. He found him to be overly saccharine and ridiculously optimistic in the face of surefire doom, not to mention he stood by socks and sandals as a fashion choice. However, things always seemed to run smoother in the Mindscape with the fatherly side around. Someone had to be there to tend to the others and moderate their senseless bickering, he supposed. How would anyone get any sleep otherwise? And Patton wasn’t one to pass judgement when he was caught alone. Perhaps his near-blind acceptance was what endeared Janus to him in the first place.

Whatever the case, he didn’t want whatever was going to happen to go through like it wanted to. He could never determine much from these visions. Just … feelings. Notions. The occasional coherent thought. This most recent one should’ve been par for the course. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what came. He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was being ripped apart. And there was nothing else around but the pain, searing a fiery blue, and those three intrepid words.

I love you.

A swan song if there ever was one. And now, standing here amongst the shadows outside Roman’s castle, he knew the swan had sung.

Taglist: @celeste-tyrrell @taxicabinmemphis @angeldiaries @somehow-i-got-an-account

#atlas writes #patton angst #sanders sides angst #shatter me #patton sanders #character death tw #are y'all ready to stone me to death yet?#shatter me story

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nitewrighter · 4 years

Text

Ripping Off Bandaids

I started writing this back when I got that ask about heart-to-hearts between Mercy and Hanzo. Here’s some venty, angry angsty Mercy and Hanzo who’s honestly kind of relieved to hear his horrible internal monologue coming from outside his head for once.

----

McCree shivered and pulled the infirmary sheets up around himself in a half-asleep haze. “Fish tacos...” he said deliriously, a clammy, feverish sweat on his forehead, “I can’t believe I was betrayed by fish tacos...”

Mercy was nonchalantly looking over his vitals on her tablet, the lower half of her face covered by a surgical mask, “Well, with all the traveling Overwatch does, I figured something like this would happen sooner or later,” she glanced up from her tablet at his IV’s, “But you seem to have... uh... purged the worst of it from your system. At this point it’s mostly a matter of resting and staying hydrated.”

“Mmh,” McCree curled up a little bit more.

“How would you say it? ‘Rest easy, buckaroo,’” said Mercy, with a weary smile, as she closed the blinds of the infirmary.

“Merce, if I hear the word ‘buckaroo’ outta you I may just start spewing chunks all over again,” said McCree, his voice half-muffled into a pillow.

Mercy snorted slightly, glad McCree had the strength to call her out on it, “I’m just a button press away,” she said, stepping out the door. It closed behind her with a whoosh and she rolled her shoulders slightly, looking forward to getting out of her sterilized gear--when she nearly bumped into Hanzo. Hanzo was carrying several bottles of sports drinks and cans of ginger ale and nearly dropped one.

“...Doctor Ziegler,” Hanzo said, awkwardly readjusting the bottles and cans in his arms.

“...the intent is appreciated, Hanzo,” said Mercy, “But he already has a saline IV. He should be fine.”

“Yes--well... I thought.. the option might be appreciated,” said Hanzo.

“It’s probably best you keep your distance in case there’s still risk of contamination,” said Mercy, stepping around him.

“…would it be too risky to leave a bottle or two on his table?” asked Hanzo.

“Well… probably not, but he needs his rest,” said Mercy.

Hanzo gave a single nod and stepped into McCree’s room. Mercy was pulling her mask and gloves off and washing her hands and wiping down her tablet at a disinfecting station when he emerged again. He waited patiently to use the sink after her.

“He, um…he looks well,” said Hanzo, washing his hands as Mercy looked back at her tablet, “Well… better. He looks better.”

“He’s over the worst of it. I’m sure he’ll appreciate your concern,” said Mercy, not looking up from her tablet.

A long silence passed between them. Hanzo dried his hands.

“...was there anything else I could help you with?” said Mercy, glancing up from her tablet.

“I thought... perhaps... we should talk,” said Hanzo.

A pall seemed to pass over Mercy’s face as she lowered her tablet to her side. She took a steadying inhale. Hanzo wondered if she had picked up the habit from Genji from the meditations their father put them through when they were small. “What did you want to talk about?” she said, looking at him.

“I know you hate me—“ Hanzo started.

Mercy’s mouth twisted down at the corners.

“Okay--I... probably could have started better than that,” Hanzo admitted..

“I don’t hate you, Hanzo, I don’t have the energy to hate you,” said Mercy, flatly.

Is that worse? thought Hanzo, That feels worse.

“I’ll look after your physical wellbeing,” Mercy went on, “Both here on the watchpoint and during missions, as part of my commitment to medicine and the health of this watchpoint as a whole. That’s the only relationship we need to have.”

“I... understand your feelings,” said Hanzo. Mercy gave him a calm ‘you can drop it right now and get out while you still can’ look, but Hanzo continued, “But... I believe, at least for Genji’s sake, we should at least try to have more, um... rapport.”

“For Genji’s sake,” Mercy repeated flatly, “Did you come here for Genji’s sake or for your own?”

“I--” Hanzo’s voice faltered.

“Because according to your exchange with Jack, you came here because you had nowhere else to go, because Genji was all you had left,” Mercy’s words were clear and sharp and tight, something she had bundled up tightly inside for a decent amount of time, “And who am I to deny you that? Who am I to deny you your family? Who am I to deny Genji his family that he has wanted so badly for years, even though there are still nights where he wakes up, hyperventilating in a cold sweat from what you did to him? He loves you. He still loves you. McCree even loves--” she caught herself, closed her eyes and tightened her lips, tensing her shoulders before taking another calming inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Her eyes opened, a half-squint half-glare at him, expecting him to cut in, but he said nothing, looking at her placidly. “This was a bad idea. I appreciate the intention, but this isn’t helping. You should--”

“You’ve sent me off before,” said Hanzo, folding his arms, “I’d... rather you complete the thought than let it fester.”

“Fester? Fester?!” Mercy repeated incredulously, “You want to talk about festering?! Against all my better thinking, I let this place, these people, become a family to me, because my family was torn away from me by forces well beyond my fucking 5-year-old self could control! And then I felt this place, and this family crumble through my fingers. And I was soft. I was kind. I was patient. Even when they let me down. Even when they betrayed my few conditions I brought with me when I started working here. I kept hoping that maybe these people I trusted, these people who brought me in and gave me purpose would do the right thing--but no. I had to watch them all fucking implode!” A shuddering breath escaped her. “So then I spend five fucking years trying to heal by helping everyone I could. And how did you try to heal after dragon-blasting the closest family you had left? 10 years wandering, drowning your problems in blood and sake,” she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her fingertips to her temples for a few seconds before her eyes flicked open at him, “So I could be soft now. I could be kind. I could be patient. I could say ‘Oh Genji, I’m so glad you’re bringing back your brother who murdered and traumatized you into this fragile life we’ve built together.’ But I’ve felt this family crumble before, and I won’t let it crumble again. Can you understand those feelings, Hanzo? Can you respect those feelings?” She was breathless now, fingers shaking slightly in front of her.

Hanzo looked at her with that same level gaze Genji would give her sometimes. Not pity, but trying to puzzle out how to pull her from her pain. “...I can,” he said after a long time, “I do.”

Mercy made a wincing face and Hanzo brought his hands up in a calming motion.

“During one of my first nights on the Watchpoint,” he went on, “McCree asked me if... everyone here other than Genji was just background noise to me. He... said something similar to what you said--that I was just here so I could, quote, ‘stop kicking my own ass over Genji.’ That the people Genji cared about, the people who cared about Genji, didn’t matter to me.”

Mercy let out a scoffing chuckle, glancing off, “That sounds like McCree.”

“When I responded ‘I don’t know’ he said, ‘Figure it out before you hurt him again.’ That... that is what I’m trying to figure out now,” Hanzo glanced down, “Admittedly I was operating under the assumption that Genji has spent this past decade as isolated as me. If not dead, then surely alone.” He sighed, “And from my own solitude came the assumption that Genji’s pain was Genji’s own... that there weren’t other people it was affecting. That there weren’t people who loved him. That there weren’t people like you.”

Mercy’s expression softened slightly, but she folded her arms across herself to try and get the shake in her fingers under control.

“...You don’t have to like me,” said Hanzo, at last, “As you said--being a doctor to this Watchpoint is the only relationship we absolutely need to have. But I want you to know that you have my deepest respect and thanks for saving my brother from my own rage and pride. And while I know there’s nothing I can do that can ever repay you for that act, if there’s any way I could help you in the future... I am at your service.”

Mercy’s eyes widened. “Did... did McCree--”

“McCree did not ‘put me up to this,’” said Hanzo, with a slight wry smile, “But... he holds you in very high regard. So that did help push me towards the decision to discuss this with you. I know he means a lot to you as well.”

“...You mean a lot to him,” said Mercy, glancing towards McCree’s door.

“He believes in redemption,” said Hanzo, following her line of sight.

“...I don’t think any of us would be here if we didn’t believe in redemption,” she bit the inside of her lip, “What I said to you earlier--the ‘blood and sake’ and--and you threatening this family--”

“I understand completely,” said Hanzo.

“It was horrible of me,” Mercy tried to go on.

“Those words came from your need to protect Genji. I can assure you, I’ve done a lot worse,” said Hanzo.

Mercy huffed a little. “Terribly competitive, you Shimadas.”

“Oh I’m even worse than Genji,” said Hanzo with a slight smirk, folding his arms.

“You’re even competitive about who’s worse about being competitive!” said Mercy with a scoffing chuckle.

Hanzo chuckled a bit too. “Yes... I suppose so.”

A long, somewhat awkward pause passed between them.

“I--I should probably let you...” Hanzo trailed off, stepping backwards.

“Yes, I should be closing up here,” said Mercy, picking her tablet back up.

“Right,” said Hanzo, turning around, “Have a good evening, Doctor Ziegler.”

“You as well,” said Mercy.

Hanzo made it down the infirmary hall a ways before Mercy’s voice piped up. “Oh--and Hanzo?”

He stopped and turned to look at her.

“I’ll let you know when McCree’s ready to see you,” she said, tucking her tablet against herself.

Hanzo gave a quiet “Hm,” and a small nod before walking off again.

#overwatch #hanzo shimada #angela ziegler #gency #mchanzo

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wellimaginethat · 4 years

Text

Bruises (PRELUDE)

THIS IS A PRELUDE TO A CHAPTER FIC THINGY I’M WORKING ON

SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 5 FINALE OF CHICAGO MED!!!

Pairing: Crockett Marcel x (female) Reader

Word Count: 1296

Author’s Note: SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 5 FINALE!!! This happened because of Chicago Med’s season finale the other night. I got this idea and it just stuck. I couldn’t shake it so I had to write it.

Trigger Warning(s): MENTION OF CHILD’S DEATH (Dr. Marcel’s daughter, Harper), ABANDONMENT, divorce, CAR ACCIDENT, MENTION OF BLOOD (in later chapter), slight injury (in later chapters), hospital stay (in later chapters), bad medical knowledge because I’m not a doctor (yet, maybe someday, lol), Dr. Manning is a noisy brat (no hate, maybe a little shade, but no full on hate), DEPRESSION (in later chapters), mention of alcohol abuse, mentions of self harm (in later chapters)

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: This is probably, kinda, sorta AU because I’ve missed some of Chicago Med (the others too due to work) so I’m just going based off what I know and research (which has come up that we don’t know much about Marcel’s past, other than this shocking new tidbit). Also, the name is from the song Bruises by Lewis Capaldi, which is the song I was listening to while writing this

~counting days, counting days since my love up and got lost on me~

7-8ish years ago

The two of you fell for each other hard. It started with a simple ‘hi’ and within two months the two of you were happily dating. He was older than you, but just by a bit. Soon enough three years passed by the two of you and you were still together, engaged and living together in fact. He was in med school and working part time, you were in college and working part time as well, so you both cherished the time you got to spend together.

Then you found out you were pregnant. It wasn’t really the best timing, with the two of you in a tiny apartment, just making ends meet. But the look on his face when you told him, it was enough to make all the worry go away, at least for a little bit. He knew things would be tough for a little while, but he swore that someday everything would be great.

He promised you that you’d have the wedding of your dreams as soon as the two of you were able to save up the money, and that the courthouse deal was just for now, just to get it out of the way.

And then Harper was born. She was the most precious and beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes on. Everything was great for a little while, but it ended too soon. At three months she was diagnosed, and by the time she was a year, she was gone. It crushed the two of you.

And then he left you there. All alone. You went back to your tiny apartment to find that he wasn’t there. He stumbled in when the bars closed, and didn’t say a word when he fell into bed with you, didn’t hold you while silent tears streamed down your cheeks.

A month passed by like that before you had enough and finally packed your things while he was away and left. You left your key on the counter and walked out of the apartment you shared. You stayed with your best friend for a little while, she comforted you and made you feel a little better. But nothing could fill the hole inside your heart. You didn’t just lose your little girl, you lost your husband too. He had been your best friend once upon a time, your everything.

Present

You had moved on the best you could, every once in a while you would have a really bad day but you’ve been doing a lot better lately. You thought about Harper more than you did about Crockett, but every once in a while your mind wandered to him. Sometimes you’d find yourself wondering where he was, how he was doing, what he was doing at that specific time. You wondered if he ever went back to New Orleans, you had once in a while to visit Harper’s grave and to catch up with old friends.

But today you hadn’t even given him a thought, not until your phone rang and you were met with questions about him from a detective. That’s when you found out he was in Chicago, you wondered how long he’d been there, but you told yourself that you didn’t care.

The detective politely asked you to meet them in either Chicago or meet one of the detectives working the case in New Orleans. You were closer to Chicago so you told him that you’d meet him there, on the condition that you didn’t have to see your ex. He agreed that you wouldn’t have to.

So you went to Chicago, went to the police station and talked with the detectives, and as you were leaving you spotted him being brought in. You felt a mix of emotions, mostly anger and sadness, it was like the bandaid you stuck over the wounds you suffered all those years ago was ripped off and that the wound hadn’t healed at all.

His eyes finally found yours, a mix of shock and guilt in them, or at least that’s what it seemed like.

You turned on your heel to face the cop. “I thought you said I wouldn’t see him?” “I didn’t know they were bringing him in for further questioning today.” The detective barely gave you an apologetic look.

You huffed, annoyed, and turned away from him. If you wanted to leave, you’d have to walk right by him. Without even thinking about it, that’s what you did. You didn’t even look at him as you walked right past him.

The air outside was sort of warm, at least in the sun it was. It was a nice day, not overly hot and there was a nice breeze, and Chicago didn’t seem nearly as noisy as you expected it too.

You were just getting ready to walk over to a taxi to go back to the hotel when you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to turn and come face to face with him.

“What do you want?” You couldn’t help the bite to your tone, you were feeling all the pain of so many years ago come rushing back.

The look on his face told you that he hadn’t expected that tone. “I want to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Crockett.”

“I’m not the one who left.”

That was a low blow. “You might not have physically left me, but you did abandon me when I needed you the most.” And with that you turned and hurried over to the taxi. The minute you got to the hotel you called the detective and told him that if he had any more questions for you, he’d have to call you to ask them because you were going home. You then gathered what stuff you did bring with you and loaded it into your own car (which you had left at the hotel because of not knowing your way around Chicago) and began to drive.

Maybe it was because you weren’t paying attention, or maybe it was because the other driver was texting. You were certain you had the green light, that you were in the right. But that didn’t matter. They plowed into the side of your car, on the drivers side. As you slipped in and out of consciousness, you could hear sirens, then someone’s voice, a male, saying they were going to get you out.

As they wheeled you into the hospital, they read off your stats.

Natalie was the one to notice the look on his face, and gave him a look as they examined you. “Do you know her?”

“Yeah, she’s my wife.”

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

He had to be forced away from you, since the two of you were still technically married, and he didn’t calm down until he was told that you were okay, that you just suffered minor injuries despite the damage done to your car. The most worrisome injury was a gash to your head, but a few days of observation and you would be able to go home.

He was gathering his things when Natalie walked in. He knew she was about to bombard him with questions, so he turned.

“Crockett.” She stopped him, taking a hastened step forward.

He turned to look at her, an exhausted look on his face.

“So she’s your wife?” Was the first question out of her mouth

He nodded once.

“Harper’s mom?”

“Look, I don’t really wanna talk about this, especially not now.”

She seemed to get it because she nodded and shut up.

He turned and walked out, going up to your room and taking a seat next to your bed, waiting for you to wake up

#crockett marcel imagine #crockett marcel x reader #chicago med imagine #one chicago imagine #chicago med imagines #one chicago imagines #dr marcel x reader #dr marcel imagine #crockett marcel #dr crockett marcel x reader #dr crockett marcel imagine

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jbbuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Zerfall - 8/14

Pairing: Bucky x named!Reader (Agent Andromeda) Summary: After Hydra drops virus bombs in 7 major American cities in the height of summer, the team is locked in their emergency bunker for weeks. The virus commonly called the Summer Poison successfully brought the infrastructure to a halt in all big cities. When the virus slowly starts burning itself out SHIELD Agents and Avengers are sent out to bring back order into the cities and the international relationships. Not without hurdles. Warnings for this chapter: Pandemic, crime, canon typical violence, flirting, picturing killing as a positive thing, weird grammar. Not beta read. **Image credit goes to Ubisoft.

Zerfall Masterlist || M a s t e r l i s t

08:00 - Morgan Library, New York City “Wake up, Buckaroo. We have another library to occupy.” you shake him awake. “God, this feels like the 40s,” he grumbled rubbing his eyes. You cleared your throat, “Good morning, Sergeant Barnes,” you climbed on top of him, “Breakfast ends in 20 minutes.” His hair was ruined three seconds later with a giggle before he grabbed you in the middle of your escape. “Way better,” he grumbled into your hair. “You like it when women are soft and you can protect them. I read you like a book, Barnes.” you grinned. “I have a metal arm that’s shielding from bullets. Of course, I like to be protective, Agent.” he chuckled letting you go and made a run for the food.

“Davis? Bucky?” The two men looked up to you from their food before you sat down on their table. “There’s a lower building across from the library that you could take a sniper rifle to. Sounds like a job for you both. I’ll go front and some of the civilians come from Bryant Park.” “You’re right. She really is a badass.” Captain Davis mumbled over at Bucky. “She’s getting the shit done.” He shrugged looking over at you with a smirk. “I guess that’s an affirmative.” You smiled at both of them before starting to eat your soup. “It is, General Andromeda.” You got a wink back. “If I get the paygrade of a General by the end of this I could get used to being called by that title.” You grinned wide.

Two hours later, after you helped the settlement to change their interior around in a more strategic way in case of an attack, you finally wandered towards the Public Library in a group of about 20 people with rifles and vests. “Groups of three on each side entrance. Two with me. Barnes on that building. Davis on that one. Understood?” you looked up at the circle around you. “Understood.” Came back in a choir. “Showtime, guys.” You grinned, picking out the two people to come in through the front with you. A guy with military experience and a girl that grew up in a forest, being perfect with knives. “Everyone on position?” You asked over the communication devices. “One. On position.” “Two. On position.” “Three. On position.” You let EADA scan the entrance area. Quite a few guards. “Wait till we go for it. They might want to escape. If there is nobody after I gave the signal you can storm in.” you told them. You looked left and right to your partners for the mission and each of them nodded. “Going in.”

You jumped over the car you were hiding behind and throwing a bomb with that momentum to land right in the entrance area. “Two gone,” you whispered before getting out your two pistols while the bomb exploded. The second it went up in flames you ran to the next best cover and landed a few good head and torso shots from there. “Wait on my signa-” You were choked from behind. “Whatcha gonna do now, sweetie?” A dark voice chuckled. You yanked your head to the side and felt blood on your cheek shortly after together with a thud behind you. Bucky. “Thanks, partner.” You grinned. “It’s what I’m here for. Always watching your six.” He smiled through his scope. “That sounds like a pick-up line about my ass.” You giggled. “That’s a talk for after the apocalypse, darling.” You got rid of 4 more guards. Your two partners of 3. Bucky and Davis of 5. “Storm in.” you called out kicking in the door that was mildly damaged from the bomb. Head, torso, head, torso, shin, head. You aimed up at staircases and made your way through the rest of the building. “You good? How many?” you asked the others. “Everyone dead. 3.” “Same here. 4.” “Two here.” “Skim through the entire building and make sure nobody is hiding,” you mumbled into the ear piece, suddenly hearing footsteps. In a matter of seconds you got out of your cover and shot the person sneaking up on you in the shoulder, after making sure it wasn’t someone friendly you landed another shot into the head. “Scum,” you grumbled, kicking him before ripping the dog tag off of him. You put your wrist to your mouth, “Eda, scan for important things. Electronics, important books to keep in an extra space, anything.” “There is a computer still up and running in the front row.” Came back shortly after. “Good.” After hacking your way through the computer without much information recovered you finally stepped out of the building again, seeing a guard still securing the front. “Wanted to keep that one for you.” You heard Bucky in your ear piece and smiled before sneaking up on the man and sticking a knife into his throat. There was a lip bite and a suppressed groan behind the sniper scope. He shouldn’t be turned on by this. He really shouldn’t. “Everything is cleared.” EADA informed you. “You can move in, Captain.” “You’re really something else, Agent Andromeda.” “I know.” You winked up to where he was positioned.

“God, I love that my favorite sauce comes in glasses. Apocalypse proof food.” You smiled over the pot of pasta that was cooking. You had made Steve’s floor of the building into your little area after the mission went well and you had reported to the others about the day. “Something that isn’t soup and veggies is the thing I’m personally more excited about, but sure.” He chuckled while nudging you. “I really don’t know how I keep doing all of this without getting stressed out by it, you know?” You smiled up at him while pouring the sauce into a pot. “Yeah. Guess you have a good motivation behind it.” His hand was on the small of your back. “Well, it’s pretty simple. I thrive on killing bad people.” You shrugged. “That is a little dark, but valid.” He scrunched his nose.

There were tiny lights throughout the city, but the sky was beautiful again. Not a single cloud. You had snatched yourself blankets and sat down on the deck overlooking the city. “I wish New York had days every year where all the lights would just stay off. I remember when the skyline had like 4 or 5 skyscrapers and you could still see the stars well in Queens.” “You took girls on dates there, huh?” You grinned over. “Yeah.” He smiled up. “Definitely better than going to the movies,” you commented before shoving the next fork of pasta into your mouth. “I just like the wonder in other people’s eyes when they stare up that the sky.” He said a little dreamy and you looked over at him with the softest expression imaginable.

“So, Rockefeller Center and Times Square tomorrow?” You asked after finishing your dinner. “Two control points in a day?” He asked back surprised. “Those are both open spaces tho. Come on, Bucky. We are Avengers and we know the faster we get that done, the better the snowball effect will continue.” You grabbed his shoulder. “Guess you’re right, Ann.” He gave you a lopsided smile. “C’mon. Let’s have a good night of sleep here and kill some of those bastards tomorrow to get your hometown back on track.” You gave a cheeky grin. “Don’t have to tell me twice, darling.” He said standing up and looking down at you for a second.

The next day was filled with two missions and a few more civilians fighting with you on the missions. You’d finally given them hope to get their town back. The Times Square area was full of food resources and antiseptic equipment. To your surprise the reinforcements for that base were not very intense and you had the base in two hours. “Build a few walls around it, have people in the houses looking down before eventually building outlook platforms.” You told the ones staying behind to hold the post. “The rest? We’re going shopping...kinda.” You chuckled.

The Rockefeller Center was a little bit harder, but still a 3 hour takeover with Bucky and Captain Davis on your side. “This is going to be a little bit harder to reinforce, but I’m sure you can find a few ways and a minigun to put there.” You pointed at a good spot and got salutes back. “Damn, I need a break now. And you need a bandaid for that cut.” You pointed up at Bucky. “That’s gone by the time you found one,” he said grabbing you closer on the walk out of the area. “Can I have some of that supersoldier healing?” You chuckled putting your arm around his back. “If I could give that to others, I would.” He laughed. “Let’s go home and watch something from Tony’s Blu-Ray collection.” You looked up. “How about...Star Wars?” He suggested. “Ugh, fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully and got a pinch into your side through the vest.

You started really appreciating the perks of this tower having power in the middle of all of this happening. You had the luxury to not only help friendly people with supplies, but you were able to live normally outside of your intense day job. “Rogue One is just the best.” Bucky mumbled with Chips in his mouth. “It’s badass.” You gave him a fond smile and he stopped in his tracks, eyes innocently going up. “You can have the rest, dork.” You laughed, boxing his arm. “If Steve would see this he’d give us the biggest monologue in history.” He grinned. “You’re eating on the couch and watching Star Wars in the middle of the apocalypse!” You said imitating his frowning face. “Imagine that in small and how hard it was to not roll my eyes every minute of every day.” He shook his head. “Small Steve would be a really great activist nowadays, I assume,” you said tucking the blanket around you tighter. “Yeah, probably. Turned into an idiot with a frisbee instead. Can’t blame him, he’s still a good friend.” He shrugged. “Vibranium arms are definitely better than vibranium frisbees.” You chuckled. “Ya think?” He held his arm out slightly before giving you a fake mad glare and a fist formed towards you. “You act all tough most of the time but I know that it’s just a front. You’re a softie.” You giggled taking his hand and felt the hand turn around and grab your hand. “Guess I like to scare people with my image.” he grinned. “Well, you’re not that anymore. You’re soft Bucky, killing the bad guys.” You smiled at him. “Yeah.” He stared back at you with shimmering eyes for a while. “Another movie?” You mumbled and got a nod back.

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damonsbitchx · 4 years

Text

Florida Burn pt.2

Summary: This is based on New Moon, but instead of staying in Forks and hanging out with Jacob, Bella moves to Florida with Renee and Phil. During this chapter, we follow Bella on her journey to Florida and her battle with the broken heart Edward left her with. I did get a little carried away with this chapter and couldn’t fit my prompt in there so there’s no prompt for this chapter! Oops :)

Characters: Bella, Charlie, Renee, Phil, and Rosie briefly

Warnings: There’s just a bunch of angst but that’s all. It’s sweet too.

Word Count: 4,193

Read pt.1 here.

Disclaimer: This was not beta’d so all mistakes are mine!

If you’d like to be tagged in my future works please send me an ask, I’d be happy to add you to the list!

Requests are also open!

Charlie came back from his fishing trip that night in a better mood than usual. He gobbled down his dinner a little too quickly and rushed to get his old clunky laptop, plopping it down on the dinner table and turning it on. He turned to look at me, gauging my enthusiasm I assumed and noticed I wasn’t even half finished with my dinner yet. He grinned innocently making me huff a low chuckle at him and then he began googling plane tickets.

“If you wanted me to leave that bad you could’ve just said so,” I teased him between bites of spaghetti.

“I don’t want you to leave Bells, I just want you to be okay,” he sighed, looking visibly upset by the thought.

Charlie was frowning now and suddenly my chest was burning with guilt.

“I don’t have to go, you know,” I offered quickly.

“Yes, you do, Bella,” he insisted, scrolling through the ticket options now, furrowing his eyebrows in deep concentration.

“I could wait until the school year is over. I’d rather not join a new school in the middle of the school year again,” I smiled sheepishly.

I really was worried about leaving. I was worried about trying and failing to be normal again, fit in with a new but ordinary crowd. I was worried about being a burden on Renee and Phil’s perfect life. I’d learned to fit in here, Charlie and I were two halves made whole by each other. We worked together like a well-oiled machine and I was worried about Charlie functioning if I left. When I left Renee I knew I was leaving her in capable hands with Phil, she had someone to take my place so she didn’t need me anymore. Charlie doesn’t have anyone, and I know he survived before I came but even he would agree his life was better with me here. I was worried about myself, too. What if I needed Charlie? What if going back to live with Renee and Phil was going to crush me further if that was even possible? What if the hole in my chest swallowed them too and Florida didn’t help like I hoped it would? I worried about the Florida Sun not shining bright enough to illuminate the dark hole in my life. All of these things were valid, and to an extent, real reasons I worried about moving to Florida, but perhaps above all, I was still worried about them. I was worried he would come looking for me. What would happen if he didn’t find me? What if he still wants me? If he came back I was worried Charlie would tell him off in my honor, but wouldn’t that be the best thing to do? He didn’t want me, that was clear, so if he came back it wouldn’t be for anything good. Maybe it would be best that I wasn’t here if he came looking.

I was jolted from my train of thought when I felt Charlie’s hand touch my face and his thumb wiped my cheek, leaving a wet trail. I didn’t realize I was crying.

“Bella, honey, I only want you to go if you want to. I just want you to heal, baby,” he breathed, cradling my face.

I nodded, pushing my face into his hand gently and smiling.

“Thank you, Dad.”

He smiled back, lovingly. Then, we picked out a flight for two days from now. I called my mom to let her know when I’d be flying in and she assured me that she and Phil would be there waiting for me. I’d made my decision, just like he did, there’s no going back now.

_______________________________________________________________

When the day finally came I found myself restless and unable to sleep that night. I laid in my bed for possibly the last time, thinking about everything that had happened in this small, irrelevant town. It was irrelevant and small but it was a part of me. So, I took care to memorize how it felt and what it smelled like. Then, I tried to memorize the shapes on the ceiling and the dark silhouettes of the trees outside of the window he used to climb through every night that belonged to the forest where I saw him for the last time. I tried to visualize everywhere he had been in this room. Our first kiss was here on this bed, and he’d come and hold me while I slept here nearly every night too. It all hurt to remember but if I forgot then it would’ve all been for nothing. I would’ve risked my life and inevitably let him shatter it for nothing. I would’ve hurt the people I love the most for nothing.

So, after months of denial and depression, I allowed myself to picture his face in my mind. I let myself say his name. I laid there in the dark whispering it over and over as if it were like some bloody mary curse and he’d magically appear, but he didn’t. Some part of me hoped he would because I knew I would drop everything and stay with him if he asked me to. That was the killer part. After everything that happened, everything I put Charlie and Renee through, everything I put myself through, and if he appeared one day and asked me to forgive him I would in a heartbeat. How ironic. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t feel that way but I had no idea how to stop. I also knew I needed to figure it out because I couldn’t just abandon everything I was doing to heal what he broke at the drop of a hat. So I decided tonight was a free for all. I was going to think about him, picture him, and just face everything I’d been dreading all at once to rip the bandaid off. I needed to get it out of the way if I was going to live with Renee because she would worry and I knew he wasn’t coming back so I didn’t need to hold it all with me anymore.

I sighed heavily, mentally preparing myself for the pain. It had been bad at times, so bad that I didn’t think it could get much worse, but I’ve been wrong before. After a moment I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. The first image was his face, clear and perfect like always. I was shocked at how real the image looked behind my eyelids. My throat tightened, but I did my best to will my body to stay calm and relaxed. I watched his stunning face twist into a dazzling smile, looking at me with admiration and love. My heart beat faster with each of his movements and my chest began to ache mildly. This was okay, it wasn’t as nearly bad as I thought. At least it wasn’t until he spoke. His ice-cold, honey-smooth voice pierced through the night silence.

“Bella, I love you, don’t go,” he spoke clearly, in his gorgeous voice.

It sounded like he was whispering right in my ear, I could’ve sworn I felt his cool breath brush my cheek. Suddenly, my heart skipped and then launched 10 beats ahead of itself. His mesmerizing sound set my entire body ablaze, burning hotter than ever before. I knew the words of my made-up Edward weren’t true, but that only made it worse. My burning lungs clued me in to the lack of air I was using. They sucked in a desperate gasp of air as my arms shot across my body and squeezed tight to hold it together. The searing and aching made me clench my teeth as tight as I could to muffle any strangled sounds that might escape and my lips clamped shut over them for extra protection. The last thing I wanted was to wake Charlie, but it just hurt so much. Like this Tsunami of red hot pain came down and crushed every ounce of what was left of me. I wanted to open my eyes, but they were locked shut because I knew when I did open them he wouldn’t be there and I wanted him to be. I wanted to be saved from this never-ending nightmare.

Then, the anger came. My chest was aching on top of the burning empty hole he left, it was all so much I could barely handle it. It felt like every muscle in my body was clenched so hard some of my limbs and appendages were going numb, but that didn’t soothe the burn away from them either. How was I ever going to get better? I pulled one of my arms up to my face sp I could shove my mouth into my elbow to muffle the yelps I’d been shoving back. My body started convulsing with silent, angry sobs at the release of pressure but all I could do was whine into my arm and wait it out.

After a while, I was able to shove everything out of my mind and force my eyes open but I laid there motionless and numb. This feeling was the closest to that night I’d felt yet. Like I had just been dumped off by everything I ever really loved, the roots of my heart aching at the absence of it’s home. It was just numb, like the feeling you’d get right after you’d fight with your best friend and you take a break from being friends. You’d just lost the one person that allowed you to be yourself and without that you were nothing, back to the drawing board, starting from scratch. There really isn’t a worse feeling than losing who you are, but above that, giving someone all the pieces of yourself that you hate the most, trusting them completely, and in the end, watching it blow up in your face. Hopefully, Florida was going to change that for me. Hopefully, Florida would fix me.

I noticed the black draining from the night sky now, dim light replacing the shadows of the empty walls and furniture around my room instead. There was a soft knock on the door and it clicked so Charlie could push it open.

“Good morning, honey, today’s the day,” he spoke gently, beaming with excitement. I smiled in return and nodded. “We’ve got about thirty minutes before we should leave, I already packed your bags into your truck.”

My truck. My face fell, I’d forgotten about that old unit. I was gonna miss that truck more than everything except Charlie. I hadn’t thought about the fact that I was going to have to leave her behind.

“I forgot about my truck,” I relayed my thoughts to him to ease his confusion at my dropped expression.

“Aw, baby.”

“You’ll take care of her until I come back, right, Dad?”

“Yes, of course, you know I will,” he frowned. I nodded and smiled again. “This is gonna be great, Bells,” he said, smiling again.

“I know. I’ll see you downstairs, Dad,” I whispered, brightening my smile.

He nodded in response and closed my door. With a heavy sigh, I let my face drop again and I floated back into numbness. It didn’t make me feel all better about leaving her, but at least I knew she was in good hands until I came back for her. I wonder what Alice thinks about me leaving. The twinge of pain in my chest made me wince. My decision had been made, I was leaving so it didn’t matter what Alice thought.

Once I was able to pull myself up and out of my bed for the last time, I fixed it so it was neat and shut the window. The last two things I had to do before there was nothing left here for me. I swept up the carry-on bag I’d already had prepared and with one last look around that empty room highlighted by the soft, golden, early-morning rays of the sun I slipped out the door, shutting it behind me. I trotted down the stairs in time to greet Charlie at the bottom who was about to come up and retrieve me. It was time to go I guess. He smiled affectionately at me, turning back around and heading to the front door. He swiped the keys to my truck off the hanging hooks as he passed them and I followed close behind him trying to take in every element of that house. I had no idea when I would see it next, but I wanted to remember everything. Charlie held the door open for me and locked it behind us. With the close of that door, I was closing the door on my life here in Forks too. Some parts of me felt grief for that but I couldn’t think about that now. If I thought about it too much I would talk myself out of it and it’s too late for that. Some parts of me felt hope for Florida and those were the parts I focused on.

“Can I drive?” I turned to ask Charlie.

“Of course you can,” he answered with a smile and tossed me the keys.

I shoved the key into the lock and twisted hard to unlock my stubborn truck. She gave in easily today probably because of the abnormally warm weather considering it was Forks. I smiled to myself, opening the door and unlocking the passenger for Charlie while I climbed inside. I stuck the key in the ignition and felt her roar to life under me, sighing at the familiar feeling.

“I’m going to miss this truck,” I breathed.

“It’ll be here waiting for you to come back, Bells,” Charlie comforted me.

I gave him an appreciative look, then began down the road on my way out of Forks. As much as I hated to admit it, I was going to miss this terrarium of a town, my town. It was about a 45-minute drive to the airport which we rode mostly in silence, occasionally exchanging a few questions and answers.

“Are you sure your mother knows where to meet you?” Charlie pressed for the fourth time.

“Yes, Dad, I told her exactly where to go. I even have my cellphone in case I need to call her, I’ll be fine,” I responded, huffing a quiet giggle.

In reality, I wasn’t sure Renee would know where to go, but she said she was bringing Phil and he was competent enough when it came to airports. If anything, I’d just end up being stuck there for a longer time than I expected. It was better than anything I would be doing back in Forks. As difficult as it was for me to admit, I knew this was going to be better than staying in Forks, if not for me, then at least for my parents. I needed to do something with my life other than pine for Edward. I knew that but it was just harder to admit than I thought.

We pulled up to the airport and Charlie had me park so he could escort me in to make sure I got on my plane and to help me carry my bags because everyone knows how notorious I am for accidents. So, I got all checked in and situated, he waited with me until my plane started boarding and when he was seeing me off at the last gate he could go to he handed me a folded up piece of paper. I stared up at him in confusion.

“Jacob asked me to give you his number so the two of you can keep in touch,” he smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

I huffed a little chuckle and shook my head, shoving it in my pocket and then throwing my arms around him for one last goodbye hug. Charlie and I weren’t ones for showing emotion, but I decided to make an exception because I didn’t know when I’d see him again.

“I love you, Dad,” I whispered into his shoulder and he squeezed tighter in response.

“Now go, before you miss your plane,” he demanded once we’d broke away from our hug. He was doing his best to hold back tears and the guilt returned in my gut.

“I’ll be okay, Dad. I’ll come back, I promise,” I reassured him with an affectionate smile as I made my way towards the gate.

He nodded, wiping his face to erase the evidence and waving at me as I backed down the hall, waving back until I rounded the corner and could no longer see him. My face fell as I turned around and continued forward. My chest began to feel tight at the realization that it was real this time. A tear escaped onto my face but I wiped it away aggressively. I was done crying, there was no way I still had tears left in me. Silently, I boarded the plane, taking my seat in very back by the window, shoving earphones into my ears and closing my eyes. This was it.

_______________________________________________________________

When I made it to Florida and had secured my bags I called Renee to see where she was.

“Hi, honey! Where are you?”

“I just left baggage claim, Mom, where ar-” “Phil says he sees you, we are outside!!” she was shouting into the phone.

I spun around to the glass doors revealing the bright Florida sun touching everything in sight and immediately saw Phil, his height set him apart from the crowd for the most part. He was wearing sunglasses on top of his head which reminded me that I’d need to get a pair. I smiled when I met his gaze and hung up to phone. He met me at the door, taking two of my bags.

“Hey, kiddo,” he grinned wider at me.

“Hey,” I breathed, nodding at him.

Lucky for me, he wasn’t really a talkative guy either. I guess Renee had a type. She was waiting out by the car practically running in place with excitement and anticipation, a huge grin painted on her face.

“Eeeeeeeeeee!!” she squealed running up to me as soon as I was out the door, throwing herself at me.

I instinctively dropped the bags I was holding so I could catch her, trying to keep my balance. I rolled my eyes at her and hugged her back.

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted her affectionately. She was sobbing into my shoulder now.

“Bella, I’m so glad you’re here,” she gushed. Then, she pushed me back by my shoulders.

“Look at you, you look so beautiful,” she whined sweetly. Renee was always so dramatic.

“Okay, mom,” I huffed a laugh, dragging her on one arm and my bags in the other towards the car.

Phil met me halfway taking the last of the bags and situating them in the car, briefly admiring my mom who was still stuck to my elbow. I smiled at him gratefully and steered her towards the back seat. I climbed in and she finally let go to climb in the front seat, grabbing my hand again once she was buckled. Maybe this was going to be a bit harder than I thought. Phil climbed into the driver’s seat and got situated, then started the drive to my new home. I’d never actually seen their house in Florida so this should be interesting.

“So, Bella, how was your flight from Washington?” Phil asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

“It was good, kind of long,” I smiled in response.

“Oh honey, you’re gonna love the house,” Renee exclaimed.

The entire twenty-minute car trip Renee talked non-stop. Phil would glance over at her to admire her rambling face because she made many different expressions, I thought that was cute. I was glad my mom found someone who loved every part of her colorful personality. I would just sit in the back seat nodding and giving “mhm’s” when it was necessary, Renee could keep going on for hours. She was telling me about her hobbies, getting into writing, moving into the new house, and then she told me they got a puppy. My eyes grew wide and my mouth hung open.

“You got a Puppy?” I frowned. Renee definitely didn’t like pets.

“Yes!” she beamed, vibrating with excitement as we pulled into the driveway of the house.

The house was not too big, but it was homey. A bit smaller than Charlie’s, it was painted a soft pastel yellow with white trim and plenty of windows. The front yard was nice and green, there also seemed to be a pretty big backyard. All in all, it was nice and bright and happy. This was going to be good. I climbed out of the car, walking around to help Phil grab my bags and then I followed Renee in. As I approached the door I heard a high-pitched yelping coming from inside making me cringe. She glanced back at me grinning with excitement, reaching to open the door. Suddenly, a little white ball of fluff bolted out the door yelping and whining, running circles around mine and my mom’s feet. I huffed quietly, watching the little dog prance around. Then, I shot Phil a disbelieving look, but he just shrugged with an affectionate smile for Renee. She was bent down greeting this puppy and sweeping it into her arms.

“Bella, this is Rosie,” she beamed, looking down at the little white puffball in her arms.

My stomach twisted wildly at the name, but I smiled for my mom and patted the dog on the head.

“That’s great mom, I never thought you’d ever want a dog.”

“You know, neither did I, but Lelani told me her daughter was selling puppies and I just went to look, but I fell in love,” she laughed, kissing the dog on its little head. I huffed and shook my head, following her inside.

“I’ll take you up to your room, Bella,” Phil smiled. I nodded in response, following him up the stairs.

He took me down the hall to where my room was and left me to my unpacking, promising me he’d keep Renee busy for a while so I could settle in. I responded with an appreciative smile. I loved her but there was nothing I wanted more than some time to settle. I shut the door behind him and turned to take in everything about this new room. It felt brighter and more open than my room at Charlie’s. The walls, bedding, dresser, and desk were all white. The floor was a walnut hardwood flooring, complementing the greys and pastel colors of the decor nicely with the white. There were various small pots of cacti and succulents, decorative pillows arranged neatly on my bed, pastel blue hangers lined my closet. It was all very sophisticated and pretty, almost too pretty to live in. It was definitely a change from my cramped, dark room I had in Forks which ironically was a small, dark town compared to this big, sunny one. Florida and Forks are the most polar opposite places to live, it was only ideal that my rooms in each place were opposite as well. The farther away from my former small-town life I could get the better off I would be.

I decided I would put my clothes away after dinner. Instead, I flopped down onto my new bed and closed my eyes. Renee and Phil were downstairs making dinner, clunking pans around, humming and talking with each other. I was happy they were so happy together, it made me worry about Renee less when I was gone. I sighed, pinpointing different smells like the laundry soap Renee has been using since I was little radiating off my bedding, the dry and warm Florida air wafting into the room from my cracked window, and there’s a faint but distinct smell of dust because I’m sure they’d never touched this room until now. The inevitable feeling of doom looming over my head had a harder time reaching me now, the Florida sun doing its job by outshining my darkness. Hopefully, it would keep it away permanently. For now, I just wanted to adjust to this change.

“Bella, dinners ready!” I heard Renee call.

I let out a content sigh and pushed myself up but before I could head for the door I heard a small bonk on the wood floor beneath me. I looked down and to my surprise, it was the piece of paper Charlie had given me with Jacob Black’s phone number on it. I raised my eyebrows, lost in thought for a moment. Maybe Jacob was exactly what I needed to stay connected to the good part of Forks that I enjoyed, that didn’t debilitate me. I smirked to myself and picked up the paper, setting it on my desk for after dinner. Then, I spun around and headed down for my first dinner with Renee and Phil since before I left for Forks. Here we go.

Tag list: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce, @xmysec0ndself

#twilight #bella swan #new moon #new moon rewritten #new moon depression #twilight imagine #twilight fanfic #twilight saga #twilight series #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic tropes #charlie swan #renee dwyer

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subloganrights · 4 years

Note

So. Strictly speaking, i generally recommend working yourself up to soft tissue piercings.

Like, most people start off with lobes, get some cartilage done, then do some nose, them some face, then they start going a further, like nipples or genitals.

So, keeping that in mind, i would generally recommend getting your septum done first, just because its much easier, usually less painful, easier to find advice and a piercer with good experience, etc.

However! Theres nothing wrong with just. Going for it. Personally, i got my tragus (the little flap that kinda covers your ear canal? Its hard to explain, but its generally a higher level ear piercing) done when the only other piercings i had were standard lobe. Not even like. Second lobe. And they were closed!

So yea, its totally fine if you just wanna rip the bandaid off and go for it. I can definitely tell you the after getting my tragus pierced (twice! Because it had to get taken out bc i needed an mri but no one could figure out how to get it back in so it closed lol) things like lobes and regular cartilage feel like nothing.

I also noticed that you said you partially wanted nipple piercings soon bc of halloween. And uhhh, tbh, i dont know how healed theyll be by, what, saturday?

Piercings heal from the outside in, so theres a chance that it might look fine? It really depends on how fast of a healer you are, to be perfectly honest.

Heres a link that details the healing process.

Soooo yea. If you wanna risk it, go for it, if not, thats totally fine, they should be fully healed in time for next year!

And on the septum side,,

So, ive never experienced it myself, nor have i read up on it much, however. I had a friend that got her septum pierced. From what she said, it wasnt that bad, and even the pain after wasnt terrible. The two biggest issues for her were that it was the tip of her nose that hurt (though it mostly just tingled, and really only hurt if it was bumped or hit), and the crusties from healing were pretty gross. Though that was mostly just cos its pretty hard to get in there and clean it without shifting the piercing.

But yeah! Its really up to you and your specific situation and what youre ok with leaving to chance!

(Also, sidenote, i highly recommend h2ocean for piercings. Its a special mineral saltwater blend that works wonders)(also also, feel free to let me know if you wanna continue this in dms lol, im fine with that)

~ Jon, the piercing anon that has way too much time on its hands lol

Don’t worry I’ve had my ears/cartilage areas pierced 5 times, my nose once, and my bellybutton so I’m not a piercing virgin by all means, I wouldn’t dare go straight for the nips dw.

I was mostly joking about the halloween thing, my piercings take a long time to heal anyway and my body is very prone to bleeding, swelling, and infections so even if I do keep my piercings in the best condition I can my body will most likely hate it anyway - I just wanna look hot af tbh

and I really do want my septum done, I’ve got the side of my nose done but I’ve heard septum hurts more but hhhhhhh worth it, right?

you can feel free to DM me if you want but tbh I know all about piercing care and healing I just need someone to tell me to stop being a weenie and book up (I did book twice for my septum but got cancelled bc, you know, that rona)

#you're so sweet dude thank you!#loving the motivation rn #ask #shut up el #not sanders sides #el's piercing adventure #subloganrights

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justlightlysedated · 5 years

Text

this is a crooked path (i think that i was meant to be next to you)

read part one: 'got time on my hands'

Alex leans in and presses a kiss to Michael's shoulder, while sliding his hand down Michael's chest and stops right on top of the quivering muscles of his stomach.

"If you want to go again," Michael says voice low and thick. "Then you're gonna have to give me a few minutes."

Alex licks his lips and leans in a bit closer, moving his mouth to Michael's ear and sliding his hand a little lower.

"Minutes?" He asks curiously, because he knows Michael's refractory period is way less than that.

Michael moans low in his throat and Alex feels the vibrations with his mouth, pressing his lips to the skin of Michael's throat, and nuzzling him.

Michael's hand slides up his back. "You're not playing fair."

"I never said I would," Alex whispers into his skin, as he slides his hand lower.

Michael’s right hand halts his process and Alex smiles into Michael’s neck before he pulls away and moves so that he’s leaning on his chin on his hand and looking down at Michael.

Michael licks his lips and opens his mouth to speak, when a lights starts shining in Alex’s face, making him blink rapidly as he looks for the source, to see the sun reflecting off of the pieces of the alien console that Michael has scattered all over his desk.

Alex wonders how he didn’t notice that the first time that he was here, and then remembers that the first time he walked in here, Michael had been finishing packing his things to move.

Michael moves to see what’s caught Alex’s attention, and Alex feels the way that he freezes minutely, before his hands are reaching for Alex, coaxing him down.

Alex lets Michael pull him into a kiss, but pulls away before they could get too distracted.

Alex isn’t really sure when exactly Max is supposed to heal Liz and blow their secret wide open, and he’s almost positive it already happened since the reports of the power surge by the Crashdown last night, but there’s a lot to talk about and Alex is one hundred percent positive that Michael isn’t going to believe him at first.

“We have to talk,” he says looking at Michael, and sees the way that his eyes lose all their warmth, and how he tenses up against Alex, as though he’s preparing himself for a blow.

"Okay," Alex says leaning up again to give Michael some space. "It's not about this, between us. I know where I stand, but you might change your mind when-"

"From where I stand, nothing's changed." Michael interrupts him looking at Alex seriously. "I don't just let anyone in here, you know?"

Alex swallows hard and decides that the best approach is just to rip the bandaid off.

"Yeah, I figured you'd hide the pieces of your alien ship better if just anyone could walk in here."

Michael flinches as though Alex hit him, and gives Alex a wide eyed scared look that lasts for one tenth of a second, before the mask slips over his face, but it's enough for Alex to know he struck a nerve even if he hadn't known the truth.

"What?" He asks giving Alex what would pass as an incredulous look, if Alex hadn't seen that moment of panic, his hands falling from Alex's neck as though trying to put some distance between them.

Alex clenches his jaw and looks away. "Maybe we should get dressed-" he starts, trying to push himself up, but Michael's hands reach out and stop him, turning Alex to face him again.

"What are you talking about, Alex?"

"I know, Guerin." He says looking at him and willing him to understand.

Michael pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, and then swallows hard. "How-?"

"Massive government conspiracy," Alex says.

Michael huffs out a laugh, looking away from Alex and rolling his eyes, before he looks back.

Alex raises an eyebrow at him.

"You're serious?" Michael asks him face losing all of its amusement.

Alex inhales deeply and thinks ripping off a bandaid.

"That project my father continued despite being told to shut it down was called, Project Shepherd created back in 1947 to cover up all evidence of the UFO crash."

Michael's eyes go wide and shocked and he swallows hard and then lets Alex go.

"Maybe we should get dressed."

***

Alex sits on Michael's bed in his boxers and one of Michael's t-shirts. Michael had pulled on his jeans and had grabbed a full bottle of acetone.

Alex watches him as he leans against the counter and tips the bottle into his mouth.

Alex just stares at him, waiting for an actual response.

Michael lowers the bottle and swallows hard.

“So your father-” he starts.

“My entire family,” Alex reiterates.

Michael rolls his eyes a little. “Okay, your entire family, knows that I’m-”

“No, they don't know about you,” Alex says shaking his head and looking down at his hands, on his lap and sighing. “There’s more than just my family hunting yours for generations.”

“I don’t care about that,” Michael says, voice blase.

Alex straightens up, shaking his head again. “Of course you don’t. You didn’t last time either.”

There is silence for a few seconds before Alex feels Michael sitting down next to him.

Michael’s fingers press lightly against Alex chin, and Alex turns his face to look at him.

"Last time?"

Alex tilts his head at Michael. "What do you think about time travel?"

"Theoretically possible,” Michael says immediately letting his hand drop from Alex’s face.

"And if I told you that when I woke up from my coma after losing my leg that I was in the past and know what's going to happen the next couple of months, what would you say?" Alex asks turning to face him.

"That you're crazy?" he says with a smirk, mirroring Alex’s movements, his knee bumping against Alex’s.

Alex licks his lips and nods his head, "Okay. So when Max heals Liz-" he starts and sees the way that Michael freezes looking at him with wide eyes.

"So that definitely already happened then?"

Michael just keeps looking at him.

"Okay, well, Kyle is going to see the glowing handprint, and in the letters his dad had sent him before he died, he told him if he saw the handprint to go to Manes. Which he did and got himself involved in a massive government conspiracy. But when he refused to give up any information, my father found someone else to blackmail, and they told him to look into Max after the massive power outage and his strange behavior during the investigation of Grant Green's murder. I managed to shut him down before he could actually confirm it though, but he did have the three of you under surveillance.”

Alex stops speaking and looks at Michael who is still looking at him with wide eyes, and only moves when Alex stops. He blinks a few times and inhales deeply before he leans forward and presses the back of his hand to Alex’s forehead.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Even if I did have a fever, you’d probably think that it was normal, given the fact that your body temperature is higher than human average.”

Michael lets his hand fall back down and he pulls his lower lip into his mouth looking away from Alex, before looking back at him. “Liz doesn’t even have the handprint yet. It doesn’t appear until twenty-four hours later.”

“So Kyle finds out tonight, then.” Alex says going over the timeline in his head. “And he’ll find out about the dishonorable discharge, and probably come to me.”

“Wait,” Michael says, and Alex focuses back on him and sees that he’s scratching his head, a confused look on his face. “If that’s how your father finds out about us, then how do you-?”

“I told you,” Alex says patiently. “I know what’s going to happen the next couple of months. Because I lived through it.”

Michael licks his lips and narrows his eyes. “So you changed the past?”

Alex raises an eyebrow. “If you went back in time, armed with the knowledge of what's going to happen, in time to change everything, would you just make the same mistakes or would you fix it?”

“That should be impossible,” Michael says. “Time is fluid yes, but you can’t change the past. It’s already happened.”

“The past is happening for me right now,” Alex points out, and Michael gives him a look like he can’t believe what Alex is saying. “And I refuse to make the same mistakes. What's the point of this, if I just do everything the same way again?”

Michael narrows his eyes at that, and seems to hear exactly what Alex isn't saying. “What about us?”

Alex swallows hard and looks away. “I made plenty of mistakes, and walked away one too many times. But I stopped, and I like to think that we were finding our way back to each other when I woke up back in the hospital, but-”

He trails off and shakes his head, and then turns back to Michael, who is looking at him with guarded eyes as though he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“Too many things happened that were out of my control then, but they aren’t now, and I’m not going to walk away again, so it’s really up to you to decide if you want to be with me or not, especially considering-”

Alex inhales deeply and finishes. “Maria.”

Michael’s brow furrows in confusion. “What about Maria?”

Alex pulls his lip into his mouth, and looks at Michael, studying his face, he looks genuinely confused and not like he’s hiding something.

Alex feels a pang in his chest at the thought that it really was his actions, him pushing Michael away one too many times that lead him directly into Maria’s arms.

"I know you like her, Guerin."

Michael huffs out a laugh, "Yeah? She's alright. Keeps letting me back into the bar even though she keeps banning me for life and lets me exchange my services for free booze which makes her my best friend. Though don't tell her that because I'm sure she'll stop if she knew I considered her a friend."

Alex looks away and Michael makes a noise in the back of his throat, before he's leaning forward and once again, places his fingers lightly against Alex's chin, turning his face back to Michael's.

Alex blinks fast, but can't hide his wet eyes.

Michael studies his face for a long moment, and Alex doesn't know if he's searching for, but sees the way that his eyes soften, and he leans forward a bit, licking his lips.

"You mean more than friends?" He asks, and Alex doesn't answer, but Michael doesn't seem to need one.

"I won't lie to you and say that I've never thought about it," and he moves his hand to the back of Alex's neck, when Alex twitches, as though to keep him still. "But first of all, I'm pretty sure that she doesn't like me like that and second of all, why would I want to be with anyone else, when you're here, offering me everything that I've wanted from you since we were kids?"

Alex chews on his lip, "What if she did like you like that? Would you-?"

"Do you want me to try-?" Michael starts asking, his hands falling down to his lap as he moves back, giving Alex some space.

"No!" Alex interrupts him fast and shakes his head. "I just don't want you to be with me only because you think I'm your only option."

Michael gives him an incredulous look.

"Alex," he says and waits for Alex to look him in the eyes to continue speaking. "Not only do I know that you're not my only option, I also know that you aren't the easiest one either. And not because you're a guy. It wasn't a secret that the Manes Men are all airmen. I wasn't only asking about your sexuality when I asked you if the rumors were all true."

Alex swallows hard at that.

Michael exhales roughly, and leans forward again. "This whole conversation is insane you know?"

Alex sighs. "Yeah, I know."

"And I'm not one hundred percent sure I believe you."

Alex rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I figured."

"But I trust you, Alex."

Alex's eyes snap to Michael's.

"You're the only person who ever made me feel like I could belong here, on this planet."

He smiles, and Alex pulls his lip into his mouth so that he doesn't mirror him helplessly.

"I would wait another ten years if that's what it took for you to be ready," he continues, reaching out once again and pulling Alex in, pressing their foreheads together.

Alex exhales shakily.

"You said you kept pushing me away, and yeah, that would hurt, a lot. Maybe enough to need to stay away, because I do know what my limits are, but it wouldn't be forever. I love you," his voice goes so low at the last three words that Alex barely hears him, but he does, and it makes him feel dizzy, heart trying to beat out of his chest.

"I probably always will," he continues. "So, even if everything goes exactly the same way that you dreamt-"

He opens his eyes and looks straight into Alex's eyes. "I would never look away. Not really."

Alex makes a sound low in his throat and reaches for Michael, sliding his fingers into his hair. "I love you, and I won't ever look away, Guerin."

Michael kisses him then, pushing forward and pressing their mouths together hard.

Alex kisses him back, pulling him in close.

Then Michael starts smiling too hard to actually kiss him back, and Alex bites against his lip in admonishment.

"Sorry," he says and presses their noses together looking into Alex's eyes.

"Don't be," Alex says closing his eyes.

He breathes in deeply and then pulls away a little, opening his eyes to see Michael's smile fall a little.

"There is one more thing-" he starts and then there is a knock on the door.

"Michael," Isobel says sounding impatient. "This better be good! I had to ask Noah to watch Max!"

She knocks on the door even harder and Alex pulls away from Michael with another sigh, looking for his pants.

"I kind of called out accidentally," Michael says, letting Alex go reluctantly and heading towards the door. "We have a-"

"Psychic connection," Alex says interrupting him. "I know."

Michael stills, and gives him a look. "What else do you know, exactly?"

Alex finds his pants and gets to his feet, only stumbling slightly as he turns to quickly.

"Alex-"

"Everything," Alex says, emphasizing the word as much as he can while he grabs his pants.

He hears Michael inhale sharply and then go to open the door.

Alex hears Isobel and then the door closes as Michael responds something too low for Alex to hear.

Alex exhales and tries not to get his hopes up too high, but it's impossible not to.

That went much better than he'd been expecting.

He just hopes that Michael will still feel the same after he hears about Caulfield.

#malex fic #no one:#me: so here is part two of three #don't @me #this was saved as 'how many malex quotes can i fit into one conversation' in my docs #so you know????#also if you can guess what alex did with caulfield i'll write you anything that you want !!!

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

Text

“Wouldn’t be a Family Without You” (Avengers Family Hurt/Comfort)

This commission is for @mikikay and features Tony being the usual self sacrificing dummy we know and love, and his family stepping in to take care of him!

**************************

The mission had been been awful, gone to shit right off the bat and getting steadily worse minute by minute.

Casualties were unavoidable, though the team tried to keep them to a minimum. An attempt had been made to avoid bringing down entire buildings, but between the Hulk being loose and the Captain’s arguably unnecessary habit of just leaping through windows and walls instead of using doors like a normal person-- well there was quite a bit of rubble by the time they managed to put an end to the mayhem.

Tony had the Stark Disaster Relief team en route before the Quinjet had even taken off from the scene and by the time they all made it back to Compound, the first members of the relief team were on site trying to work through the damage and help those who immediately needed help. .

There were groans and grimaces as the team struggled out of the jet and into the Compound, curses and muffled cries as they dropped one by one onto couches and chairs or in Clint’s case-- face down onto the floor to groan into the hardwood something unintelligible about his arms falling off..

“Alright guys, come here and let me take a look at you.” Tony was always the first one to go and get first aid supplies post battle and today was no exception. He brought along bandages and pain pills and a case of water, tossing everyone a bottle before he knelt down to take a look at Bruce first. “How you doing, big guy? Just some bumps and bruises? When you de-hulked you sort of splatted on to some busted concrete--”

“My bad, Brucie-bear.” Sam lifted his hand tiredly. “I know I was on Bruce catching duty today but I couldn’t get over there fast enough.”

“It’s fine.” Bruce waved him off. “I’ve got a headache and that's about it, so no harm no foul.”

“I’ll get you some tea.” Tony jumped back up and jogged towards the kitchen to start a cup of tea, returning with a cold compress for Bruce’s head, tsking over a scrape at the doctors temple. “Sit tight for a few minutes, alright? You want me to put a bandaid on your cut or anything?”

“It’ll heal.” Bruce grunted, but he sighed and leaned into the touch when Tony fussed at his hair for a minute, brushing the unruly curls back so they weren’t in his eyes. “Thank you, Tony.”

Next up was Sam, whose knuckles were torn and bloody from a fight that had gotten too close for comfort after he’d ran out of ammo. Tony cleaned them as best he could, picking gravel out of the deeper ones before soothing the swollen, busted joints with cooling medicated cream and wrapping Sam’s hands and up around his wrist tightly.

“Did you break your wrist?” He asked then, eyeing the uncomfortable angle to the bone and Sam shook his head muttering, “Just a sprain.”

“I’ll get you an ice pack.” Tony decided, already on his way back to the kitchen to dig around in the freezer. “Is ibuprofen going to work today or do you want some of the good stuff?”

Sam cracked a grateful smile. “Always the good stuff, Tony. Thank you.”

“Me next, me next, me next.” Clint whimpered pitifully, then shrieked when Natasha kicked out at him. “Ow! Watch the ribs!”

“I thought it was your arms. Or your shoulders.” Natasha retorted, opening her knife and slitting the leg of her suit from knee to ankle. “Or are you just a whole ball of whiny today?”

“You’re a whole ball of bitchy today.” Clint retorted, slapping her foot away when she tried to kick him again. “Leave me alone, Widow.”

“Calm down kids.” Tony stepped over Clint and handed Nat a glass of water that wasn’t so much water as it was several shots of hard alcohol topped off by a few ice cubes. “Is your leg an emergency Tasha, or can I deal with Legolas first?”

“Not an emergency.” she confirmed, tipping the glass back and draining most of it. “Just need a handful of stitches and maybe another of shot of this particular good stuff--” she shook the glass. “--and I’ll be good to go.”

“Lovely.” Tony said dryly, and crouched down next to Clint. “Alright Clint, where does it hurt?”

“Literally everywhere.” Clint fussed, but even Natasha gasped a little when Tony helped the archer pull his shirt off and they all saw the mass of bruises across his shoulders and down his back. “Falling from buildings isn’t super fun, how come no one caught me? We call catch Tony when he falls. Sam, where were you on that one? I thought you were on catching duty today.”

“I was busy trying to catch Bruce.” Sam snorted, and Bruce added, “But you didn’t catch me either.” and Clint finished, “Big man with wings? You’re basically useless.”

“If my hands didn’t hurt so bad, I’d punch you for that.” Sam threatened and Clint made a face. “Call me useless? You’re basically Robin Hood.”

“Hey.” Clint pointed a finger in Sam’s direction, which was as disgruntled as he could act with Tony working at the bruises on his shoulder. “I’m not Robin Hood. I don’t wear tights.”

“You sort of wear tights.” Tony said mildly, pressing at Clint’s ribs to make sure nothing shifted too far or snapped when it wasn’t supposed to. “I don’t know how you move in those leggings.”

“They aren’t leggings.” Clint huffed, groaning over a particularly tender spot. “They are streamlined utility pants. Also, what the hell are you putting on my back, it smells like a junkyard.”

“Yeah, it smells terrible but it will help with the swelling.” Tony squirted more of the gel on Clint’s back. “Anything feel broken? I checked your ribs and I think you’re okay there.”

“Nothing’s broken.” Clint mumbled, his words muffled in the floor. “I counted my bones, I think they’re all there.”

“Alright, you’ll be fine.” Tony snagged a pillow from the couch and pushed it under Clint’s head before moving over to Natasha, eyeing the gash on her leg nervously. “Just a few stitches, huh?”

“Just a few.” Nat flopped back onto the couch, holding the cool glass up to her forehead. “But if you don’t want to do it--”

“I’ve stitched you up enough times to know how to do it.” Tony hummed, prodding at the cut a few times to make sure nothing was--ick-- oozing before cleaning it gently. He ripped open the package holding the sterile needle and thread and glanced up one more time. “You want me to numb you up?”

“I don’t have any feeling there anyway, remember the shrapnel from a few years ago?” Natasha waved him off. “Just do it, can’t take more than ten stitches. I’m fine.”

“Alright honey.”

Steve grimaced and looked away at the first prick of the needle, slouching in his chair and scrubbing his hands down his face. He was less hurt than the other members of the team, but still battered and sore and cranky as all get out over how badly the mission had gone. Every moment from the mission was running round and round in his head as he tried to catalog what had gone wrong when, what they would need to do next to time to make sure that sort of thing didn’t go wrong again.

Steve needed a good run to work out some of the leftover energy from fighting, then a shower to wash the ick from his hair and from under his nails and then he was going to--

“Easy does it, Cap.” Soft fingers were gliding through his hair then, and Steve closed his eyes automatically as Tony felt around his scalp for any large bruises, any cuts he might not have noticed. He’d jumped through at least two different windows today and had been thrown through another so it wouldn’t be the first time there’d been glass in his hair or stuck in his skin.

“All clean, Spangles.” Tony patted him on the shoulder. “You should take a shower then do a few laps in the pool so you don’t feel so anxious, I can see the wheels in your head churning and I know you’re stressing out about this whole thing, but it wasn’t your fault. Sometimes things just suck. We’re fighting super villians and their minions for gods sake, we can’t be expected to know everything that’s going to happen. Take a swim, stop worrying about it, and then some sleep, yeah?”

“Sure thing, Tony.” Steve smiled tiredly up at him. “What would we do without you?”

“Have to get real jobs and pay for your own stuff.” Tony said flatly, but he winked and started cleaning up the supplies. “Everybody else go take showers and try to get some sleep too. I’ll order dinner for about eight and have JARVIS wake you up, alright?”

“Thank you Tony.”

“See you in bit.”

“Love you Tony.”

One by one the team shuffled out of the living room, heading for their own beds while Tony cleaned up and ordered some dinner to be delivered. Once that was done, he headed directly down to his lab.

“Sir?” JARVIS’s voice pitched in alarm the moment Tony stepped into the room, the full body scans at the door showing the AI exactly which injuries Tony had sustained during the battle. “Sit down immediately.”

“I’m trying.” Tony wheezed, his steps faltering now that he was out of view of the team. His jacket came off slowly, painfully, dropping onto the floor and smearing the white tile with red from the hole in his side that hadn’t stopped bleeding yet.

“Fuck.” he slumped into the closest chair and put his head in his hands. “Dum-E? I need a first aid kit pronto.”

“You need a hospital.” JARVIS said disapprovingly. “I’ll call an EMT--”

“Nope, I’m fine.” Tony groaned when his shoulder pulled uncomfortably, rifling through a nearby cabinet for a shot of lidocaine. “Just gonna numb the hell up and then slap a few stitches in it and call it a day.”

“You should at least warn the others that you will be out of commission--”

“Nope.” Tony interrupted again. “They don’t need to know, they’d only worry. By the way? We need to work on the response speed of my suit. I took a hit and the nanos didn’t reform fast enough to protect my side, which is why I’m currently bleeding out on my--” Tony’s vision swam as he got suddenly light headed. “-- hey look at that. I am getting blood all over my very expensive shoes. Say JARVIS, I think maybe you should call that EM---”

***********************

Tony came to in his own bed, groggy and unsure of what had happened, staring up in confusion at the huddle of concerned faces around him.

“Hey guys.” he rasped. “What uh-- what happened? Is everything okay? Did I miss dinner?”

“Did you miss dinner?” Steve was wearing his patented Captain America scowl of disapproval. “I was in the shower when JARVIS came online to tell me you needed some help in the lab!”

“And when we got down there--” from Sam, whose scowl of disapproval was nearly as quelling as Steve's. “-- we found your dumb ass passed out on the floor, bleeding from your side with your stupid robot bumping you in the head with a first aid kit!”

“Dum-E isn’t--” Tony paused. “Alright, well he didn’t have to hit me in the head with the first aid kit I guess. Is that why I have a headache?”

“The headache is from your less than graceful splat from your chair.” Bruce elbowed his way in and propped Tony up far enough help him take a drink. “I saw the video feed from the lab. You were literally complaining about bleeding out on your ridiculous shoes, then just pitched forward and face planted. You’re lucky you didn’t break your nose.”

“And for the record?” Clint pushed Bruce aside, groaning and gasping as he tried to crawl up on the bed with his injured ribs, settling next to Tony and patting at his thigh. “I feel very guilty for bitching about my arms being sore when you had a hole the size of a half dollar in your side.”

“I had to stitch you up.” Natasha finally spoke from the foot of the bed, her eyes wide and face pale and Tony frowned seeing the usually unshakable spy looking so scared. “I thought you were going to bleed out and there was no way we could get you to a hospital fast enough to save you.”

“It’s alright Nat” Tony grimaced as he tried to shift to share more of the pillow with Clint. “That didn’t happen, so everything’s fine.”

“The only reason you didn’t bleed out is because JARVIS unlocked that super secret cabinet for us, the one where you keep the toys you don’t want us knowing about.” Sam spread another blanket over Tony’s legs and Bruce offered him another drink of water. “Nat stitched you up as best as she could then we gave you a shot of whatever that silver stuff was in the vial and--”

“JARVIS, you let them use the NanoSkin?” Tony interrupted. “That's still in a testing phase and--”

“--And it tested fine.” JARVIS said smoothly. “I instructed them to give you only enough to reknit your skin together, not enough to heal the wound completely since we don’t know how they will affect your arc reactor.”

“Oh.” Tony sighed and went a little limp. “Okay. Well thanks guys. Good teamwork.”

“You could have died, Tony.” From Steve, his scowl sliding into something mournful. “Don’t be that stupid again.”

“Seriously.” Clint was warm and solid against Tony and he started to drift back towards sleep when the archer pressed closer. “I always forget you can get hurt, flying around in that big ol’ tin can but you don’t have to remind me by nearly dying, huh? Take about ten to twenty percent off the top there.”

“Sure thing.” Tony yawned and Natasha bent down to kiss his forehead, whispering, “We wouldn’t be a family if we lost you, Tony.”

“Yeah.” Sam cut in. “And Bruce is so cranky, we’d all run away from home if you weren’t around so unless you want to be directly responsible for a group of homeless Avengers causing trouble in the city, maybe don’t go dying on us.”

“That’s quite enough from you.” Bruce frowned at Sam, and left a fresh water bottle on Tony’s end table. “Get some sleep Tony, don’t worry about anything. We can manage a day without you.”

“And as long as Clint’s sleeping too, nothing bad will happen anyway.” Steve added.

“I’d throw something at you for that, but my arms hurt too bad.” Clint said pathetically and Tony laughed softly.

“Ugh. I love you guys.”

“We love you too, Tony.”

*************************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC!

AUTHORS DRINK KO-FI ON SUNDAYS TOO!

*************************

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#ncts fics #commission #tony stark #steve rogers #sam wilson #clint barton #natasha romanov #bruce banner #avengers family #domestic #hurt comfort

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