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laurazepamwrites · 4 years

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The Chemicals between us ~Ch.5

With most of the base now empty with only a skeleton crew to run it there was plenty of accommodation to go around. Some of the younger women had decided on sharing a dormitory meant for new recruits whilst others had chosen singular personnel quarters. Some had even moved into less homely lodgings like Torbjorn, who had taken one of the empty garages near the workshop, or Angela who had neatly converted a spacious office next to medical into a comfortable bedroom. After much indecisiveness and downright ludacris demands from having the Commanding officers quarters to room service the Junkers had finally settled on taking a small disused storage warehouse, it even had two floors allowing Roadhog to have his own space in what felt like forever. It was dusty, the metal fixtures had spots of rust and it was far more industrial than cosy even though the old lady captain had graciously given him two beds. To him, it felt the closest to his farm he would ever get in a long while. It would do. Junkrat wasted no time in making himself a workstation even going as far as to unceremoniously flip his mattress and blankets on the floor along with what few possessions he had with him and after a few adjustments had used the metal bed frame as a makeshift tool holder to stand alongside the desk he had ‘borrowed’.

It had kept him busy for a couple of hours in which time some team members had come to see them. Morrison had once again reminded the Junkers of rules and boundaries and consequences until Junkrat threatened to blow up his own eardrums if the old man kept going on about it, the Doctor came to check on his stitches and to return Roadhogs Hogdrogen despite her advise on his frequent usage, he politely waved her off as he clicked in the canister to his mask and taking in a deep drug infused breath, he was running low and finding more would be hard to come by in this country but he’d find a way, until then he had reluctantly agreed to use an oxygen tank at night time. As the evening drew in Roadhog was snoring loudly on his two single beds as Junkrat delicately worked on his prosthetics, a sudden knock on the metal door made him jump and drop the small screwdriver he was holding. ‘Fucks sake! Dont fucking like this Hog!’ He called down to a grumbling Roadhog who wheezed as he sat up. ‘S’pose we should get used to it..’ He muttered in reply, heaving himself up and heading for the door. He couldn't blame Junkrat for his anxiousness, he should probably talk to him about it later. He heard voices outside as he reached for the door handle which shushed as he pulled it open. His gaze dropped downward at the sight of a young man with dreads and two young women before him, their eyes widening at the huge man before them. ‘Yeah?’ Roadhog grunted at them. The young man squeaked and hastily nudged one of the girls forward, the young asian woman rolled her eyes and held her chin high looking right into the black glass eyes of his mask. ‘See guys? Told you he was big.’

‘Hana! Don't be rude!’ Said the remaining woman in a european accent. She was holding a toolbox and had oil on her clothes. Must be the Lindholm girl. ‘I’m sorry Mr Rutledge, Papa sent me to give these to Junkrat.’ She rattled the toolbox.

‘We’re calling him Jamie cos Junkrats a dumb name!’ Hana called loudly trying to get his attention from behind Roadhog, It worked as the tell tale sound of his peg leg could be heard coming down the flight of stairs. Junkrat pushed Roadhog out the way and made a face at his visitors, ‘What's this the welcome party or summit?’ He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms.

‘Something like that, we brought you guys something to eat.’ Said Lucio, picking up some trays of food beside him.

‘Yep.’ Said Roadhog, reaching over and taking the trays, promptly returning inside and sitting down to eat. Junkrat glanced over the brunette girl, ‘You the angry hobbits kid? Bridgette? Baguette?’

‘Brigitte. You didn't call him that to his face did you?’

‘Yeah.’

She laughed out loud, ‘And you lived? Wow the last person to call him that had a hammer to the face. You got on his good side. Oh here take this.’ She handed the toolbox to Junkrat, he gave her a quizzical look as he opened it. Inside was a decent selection of different tools designed especially for prosthetic maintenance. ‘Papa works on his own too, Jesse and Genji go to Dr Zeigler since theirs are highly advanced, can I see yours?’

‘Er…?’

She didn't wait for an answer, grabbing his metal hand and holding it close to her eyes. ‘You made this?’ She asked, eyes wide. ‘Wow even down to the synthetic nerves but you need to fix the casing. There's plenty of scrap metal in the workshop and there's a small soldering kit in the tool box already.’

‘Yeah er..thanks?’ He dislodged his hand from her grip and flexed the metal digits now feeling slightly insecure.

Hana stepped forward, ‘Hey erm..thanks for not telling Commander Morrison I let you out, even though I technically didn't! But still..thanks Jamie.’

‘Sure, no worries.’ He shrugged.

‘Look man, I appreciate that this must suck being here for you, but y’know it's not bad here. Good people, sure plenty of different opinions but we’re a team. Your here now so why not make the best of it? We can help you out, and hey! It's great to have someone else our age to hang with!’

‘Our age? I’ll remind you i'm the youngest here.’

‘Youngest human.’ Corrected Brigitte

Hana brushed her off. ‘Pfft..details.’

Junkrat rubbed the back of his neck with his living hand, ‘Yeah er, may need time to adjust to all this...been a long while since i've been around people, and even then anyone of em could kill ya if they felt like it.’

‘So what was it like? Growing up in the Outback, what happened to you after the Omnium explosion?’ Asked Hana

Now he felt uncomfortable and wanted to back out of whatever this was, luckily for him Lucio had noticed and took Hana by the arm. ‘C’mon leave the guy alone, we don't need to know anything. Lets go.’ He looked to Junkrat and gave him a small understanding smile, he smiled back and nodded a thanks.

‘Come by the workshop tomorrow Jamie.’ Said Brigitte as she turned to follow Hana and Lucio. ‘We’ll fix your hand up and Papa can show you what we do. Night!’

‘Yeah..laters..?’ He hovered by the door and watched them leave, absentmindedly he began gnawing at his lip, wincing as he remembered the stitches there. He closed the door and looked at the toolbox tucked under his arm, he knew Roadhog was watching him.

‘You alright Rat?’ He said between mouthfuls of food.

At first he didn't indicate that he had heard him, he was still looking at the toolbox and seemingly lost in his thoughts.

‘Rat?’

‘Fine mate.’

Roadhog sighed then nodded to the chair next to him. ‘Sit down, eat something.’

‘Nah thanks i'm just gonna-’

‘No you’re not. You’re gonna sit and you’re gonna eat.’

‘Not hungry.’

‘Stop. I know what you are doing and you stop it right now. Sit the fuck down.’

Junkrat stared him down despite knowing he almost always lost this game. Roadhog grunted in satisfaction as he eventually stomped over to the table and slamming the toolbox on it before slouching on the chair and pouting. Roadhog pushed a tray towards him. ‘Eat.’ He said, continuing with his own meal. Finally Junkrat succumbed and pulled the tray closer and there was a moments silence before Roadhog decided to break it.

‘So..’ He said, ‘Jamie huh?’

‘Yeah..it's weird.’

‘Just be glad you didn't forget your own name after all these years.’

‘You’re one to talk..Mako.’

‘Hmph..’ The silence once again hung between as Roadhog decided the best way to ask after his partners current mental state.

‘So..you alright? Don't give me any of that ‘im fine’ bullshit’

Junkrat flashed him a grin. ‘I’m okay mate.’

‘Rat I swear to fucking God-’

‘What Hog? What? You wanna know im freaking out? That i feel totally out of control, that I now have a fuck load of people to figure out whether they’re gonna kill me or kill you, that I am totally out of place here and everyone's asking fucking questions about fucking everything and it's bringing up alotta fucking stuff which i don't fucking wanna think about and my arm which isn't even fucking there hurts so fucking much and all this shit is spinning round n round in my head and I just want it to shut the fuck up!’ He kicked the table in his emotional outburst which had threatened to spill over all day, Roadhog was waiting for it and simply sat quietly and listened as the younger Junker got it out of his system. Junkrat slumped lower in his chair, running his flesh hand over his face and through his hair, his anger subsiding and looking exhausted. ‘Its..It's too fucking much mate, need to feel control over something, need to blow something up!’

Roadhog felt this was a good time to step in before Junkrat worked himself up again. Reaching behind his head he unclasped his mask and set it on the table, his skin felt strange to the sudden exposure to the air. It was extremely rare for him to go maskless but the boy needed calming and he needed to understand that Roadhog was being genuine. ‘Rat, look at me.’ He didn't, once again testing the stitches in his lip and purposely looking away. Roadhog sighed. ‘Jamison?’

That got his attention and he finally looked at Roadhogs maskless face. ‘I’m sorry I got angry with you earlier. I know you were worried, but I don't think this place is bad. It's not like Junkertown, If i thought we were in immediate danger coming here then believe me, we would not be here. Now...you feel out of control? Yet you’ve negotiated a contract and made whatever this is work more to your favor. Yes, we are out of place but this is a thrown together vigilante group. I doubt you’re the only one feeling like that, personally I dont give a shit that I stick out. Now..those kids that came to see you, pretty sure they don't want to kill you. Looks to me they wanna be friends if you remember what those are, you could do with some actual social interaction so don't be a dick about it, even when they are curious. And you’re gonna get questions Jamison, so you set the boundaries on what you’re okay to talk about. No one needs to know about what happened to you growing up there, that's up to you. Now you can't go blowing shit up every time you get angry or upset so you need to find another outlet so maybe that girl and her Dad can help out with that..As for your arm I can't offer any advice. Its worse when you’re upset, when you’re tired and when you’re hungry. So take a breath, fucking eat and try and get some fucking sleep. In the morning take a shower, eat again then we take it from there alright?’

He still looked upset but less so and more settled, he flexed his metal hand and gave his friend a small smile. ‘Alright mate.’

Roadhog regarded him and after a moment's consideration reached out to ruffle Jamison's hair, thankful that he didn't flinch at the touch. Instead he grinned and playfully swatted his huge hand away, ‘Alright fuck off with that.’

Roadhog snorted and returned to his food, ‘Eat. Then get some sleep. Not gonna talk to you rest of the night, you've heard enough from me to last you a week.’

‘...Thanks Hog.’

Roadhog simple grunted in acknowledgment.

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

The next morning a small beep beep sounded from the commanders private computer, Jack sat down in front of it and after a few clicks was present with a new message.

:Got some very angry people here so I must congratulate you on your success of finding the Junker. Please share if you find out what he has! No need to thank me of course. Also this may interest you..’

Jack waited and eventually another beep beep came from the computer, this time it was a file attachment.

:Enjoy!

Jack did not bother to reply, instead opening the already encrypted file. It was a photo of a very wealthy looking Omnic who he instantly recognised as Maximillien and two men; one of them being Sanjay Korpal, one of the Viskar corporations most senior members..now what was he doing meeting one of Talons inner council? It wasn't the first time Viskar had popped up in all this, It was only yesterday that Ana had debriefed him on her mission to Iraq, learning of their desire to have a presence in Oasis where coincidently a key member of Talon and former Blackwatch agent Moira O’Deorain was based. ‘Getting to her would be near impossible.’ in that city, Jack thought to himself as he shut down the computer and Vishkar would need to make a more obvious move on their allegiances before sending anyone in, for now it was smoke and mirrors. Reinhardt have given him a more solid lead from his time spent in Latvia near the border of Russia, learning of a possible Talon shipment being sent to a supposedly disused military compound near a town called Bryansk south of Moscow. If it was indeed a Talon base with a cache of weapons he needed it destroyed. He went to the communicator on the wall and pushed a button, ‘Athena,’ He spoke into the speaker. ‘Call Captain Amari, Lieutenant Reinhardt and Agents Genji and Zarya to the briefing room please.’

‘At once Commander.’ The A.I replied.

Soon enough everyone was accounted for in the briefing room and Morrison began the meeting. ‘Athena bring up a map of Bryansk, Russia.’ A large map projected in the middle of the table. ‘Bryansk, a densely wooded city in western Russia. Mostly a center for steel and machinery manufacturing and if Reinhardts source is to be trusted a cache for Talon weapons. Athena, give a rundown on any empty military compounds or warehouses within a thirty mile radius of the city.’

‘Overwatch satellites are mostly shutdown however I will do what I can Commander,’ Athena replied.

They waited as the A.I scanned the area, slowly pinpointing buildings within the search radius, five of them showed in total. ‘That is all I can do for now Commander.’

Jack looked at each point on the map, assessing the most likely place for the compound, ‘Athena, zoom in on the point north west of Bryansk.’ The map zoomed in showing a building deep within the woodland, it was well away from any towns yet within 10 miles of the nearest main road. This had to be the place.

‘Zarya, welcome to your first mission. I want you and Genji to go to Bryansk, get a safe house and scan the area. If it's true what this place is we need to take control of it, seize the cache and destroy the compound.’

Zarya nodded, ‘I will gladly go, but must I go with the Cyborg?’

‘Oh please, none taken,’ retorted Genji

Morrison gave her a hard look. ‘I understand your mistrust of Omnics Zarya but Genji is Human. You agreed to be apart of this team and in doing so agreed to work with whomever I say. Are we clear on this?’

She looked between him and Genji with coldness in her eyes, ‘Fine. I agree.’ She reluctantly said.

‘Good. Ana, Reinhardt? Anything to add?’

‘My source tells me armoured trucks go through at least once a week, morning and evening. I suspect they have a lot of armed guards patrolling. Perhaps Zarya can gather more information in the city whilst Genji surveys the area?’ Suggested Reinhardt.

‘Just be careful Zarya, you are well aware you are popular in Russia, perhaps they can set up base in a smaller neighbouring town with less people. Questions may be asked if you go looking for information from the wrong people. Id recommend caution.’ Said Ana

‘This is not my first mission finding information..nor is my first mission working with someth...someone so..technologically advanced. It will be fine, I will deliver.’ Replied Zarya.

‘That's settled then, I’ll have Lena program the Orca for autopilot to a safe location, you should have no issues getting in or out. Once you get enough information we’ll send a second team out. Go prepare yourselves, you depart this evening.’ Said Morrison as he dismissed them.

‘Yes commander.’ They said in unison, giving eachother an uneasy look before leaving the room.

Jack sat back in his chair and sighed. ‘This is going to be hard work.’

‘Oh and what part would that be Jack? From my recollection this has always been hard work.’ Said Ana mildly.

‘Keeping everyone in line Amari, we have people here with very different opinions. There's going to be conflict.’

‘Those different opinions could be beneficial Commander,’ Offered Reinhardt. ‘It allows us to see things from new perspectives.’

‘Not when we have in fighting it doesn't, we all know that.’ Said Jack, standing up to leave. Ana and Reinhardt shared a look with each other. It was probably best to let that subject slide for now.

‘Just be glad no ones having sex Jack, now that would be difficult to deal with.’ Ana called after him, trying to lighten the mood. He said nothing and left the room.

‘Tsk..always the boy scout isn't he Reinhardt?’ She said to her friend.

‘Somethings never change Ana, for good or bad. At Least we are still here to guide the younger generation.’

She smiled warmly at him and squeezed his hand, she had missed her old friend.

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As evening creeped across the watchpoint Mei glanced towards the Orca as it was being prepared for flight from the window of Winston's Laboratory and felt a pang of jealousy before returning to type away at a computer. She did not come here often, she still had not had a proper conversation with Winston since her heated phone call. He had tried, as had all the older members, asking her how she was and how she was coping and being oh so nice to her. Too nice, they couldn't hide their pity if they tried. They felt sorry for the poor little Climatologist asleep for a decade whilst her teammates and friends lay dead around her. She didn't want their pity, she hated it. She hated their smiles and concern, she hated how they danced around the subject, fearful of upsetting her. Why? When she was already so sad, so angry. It was her own fault she supposed. Wearing her mask that showed the world she was the same Mei all those years ago. Kind, polite and happy, optimistic and positive. That's what she showed to the world, did her friends look at her with pity in their eyes because they see through the front or was it all in her head?

She gave herself a little shake, jolting herself to stop from lingering on that dark cloud that constantly loomed in the back of her mind. She rested her head on her hand and continued watching the computer transfer data onto her small laptop. It wasn't her usual work on weather patterns or climate but she was desperate to feel useful here, so here she was alone in Winstons lab using his computer to transfer information on what needed repairing in the watchpoint from most urgent to least. Right down to the last service bot. She was so bored, but at least she could be alone after yet another rough night.. She heard the door open downstairs and she let out a small sigh, so much for avoiding conversation she thought as she began to pack up her belongings. ‘I'm done here Winston.’ She called, tucking the laptop under her arm and preparing to leave. ‘I'll send you the list later this..evening.’ She paused at the top of the stairs. It wasn't Winston who had come in.

‘Yeah if I see King Kong i'll pass on the message.’ Junkrat said casually, barely glancing at her as he tinkered with some lab equipment.

She narrowed her eyes at him,‘You are not supposed to be in here.’

‘Oh if i had a penny every time i've heard that.’ He laughed.

Mei began to walk down the stairs. ‘You know you can't be in here. We’ve all been informed of your ‘contract’.’ she mimed the quotations with her free hand. Junkrat ignored her, sitting on an office chair and using his metal peg to slowly spin himself around. He picked up a small random piece of apparatus on one of his turns and began playing with it, the hint of a smirk on his face.

Mei blinked at him, taken slightly aback at being ignored, she brushed a strand of hair from her face and put her hand on her hip. ‘I said-’

He spun to face her. ‘Yeah i heard ya, and it's a big place here, you can't blame a guy for getting lost.’

‘You are not allowed to enter the labs without supervision.’

‘You're here aren't ya? He retorted, spinning around.

‘I..youre…’ She huffed in exasperation, the attitude on him! She had expected none less from this uncouth criminal Junker. ‘Nǐ zhège húndàn’ she muttered under her breath.

He swivelled in his chair to face her once again and grinned at her, ‘Aww c'mon Frosty...bet you know worse insults than that.’

she stared at him incredulously ‘You...speak Mandarin?’

‘Enough to get by and enough to know when someone's calling me a jerk or worse.’

At least she had the grace to blush but like hell was she going to apologise to him, instead she scowled hard. Junkrat faked a shudder, ‘Fuck..get cold just looking at ya.’

‘Look somewhere else then!’ She snapped back.

‘With pleasure!’ he retorted and he swung his chair again turning his back to her and going back to his exploring. Mei stood there with her mouth slightly open, she could not believe his attitude walking in like he owned the place, ignoring the contract which was his own idea and frankly not seeming to care to follow its rules. He was really beginning to bug her and in turn she was ruffling his feathers too. He disliked authority, and this Icy woman was talking to him like a school boy in trouble.

‘You need to leave now.’ She stated, pointing to the door.

Junkrat rolled his eyes, ‘Yeah i'm going, you're pretty boring.’

‘Erm..Excuse me?’

‘Its means-’

‘I know what it means!’ She snapped. ‘And i'm sorry i don't find wanton destruction and exploding things a good use of my time.’

‘You should try it Frosty..might warm ya up abit.’ He winked at her.

Her face felt hot. Why did her face feel hot? ‘You..gah! Hundan! Why are you even here? Overwatch isn't for people like you!

‘meaning..? He grinned slyly, leaning toward her.

She knew he was baiting her, but something in her made her want to argue with him. To get the last word. 'Overwatch is for heroes, for making a positive impact on the world...it's not for half crazed criminal arsonists!’ She responded with an edgy tone. He gave her a smug smirk and she caught a glimpse of a gold tooth. She expected him to react in anger, the fact he found this amusing made the exchange all the more infuriating.

‘You’re a criminal too frosty...everyone here is now, even the doctor. So, what kinda illegal activities does a girl like you do round here?

‘I'm a scientist if you must know. I have a doctorate in Climatology.’

‘You have a what doing what now?’

She rolled her eyes. Of course he didn't know what that meant. ‘I study weather patterns and how it affects the Earth's climate.’

He stared at her a moment before barking out a laugh. ‘Oh right ok then. Very useful when the the bots wipe out half the population and you got terrorists kicking in your door. But hey, at least we'll know the forecast!’

Her eyes widened in anger and her nostrils flared, not that he seemed to notice and if he did he didn't seem to care. Silently she pointed to the door, he snickered as he stood up and stretched, much to her surprise he was a good deal taller than her. She watched him leave, keeping an icy glare on her face and tapping her foot with impatience. ‘Later Frosty.’ He called over his shoulder as the door shut behind him. Mei breathed heavily through her nose, her anger bubbling threatenly inside her. He had touched a nerve and patronized her, whether he meant to or not. ‘Ugh! Cào nǐ zǔzōng shíbā dài!’ She shouted after him.

She soon headed back to her room, throwing the laptop down on her bed and sitting down roughly next to it, Snowball woke from its charging station and went to greet her, making a confused noise as she failed to notice him. ‘Oh..sorry Snowball. I just met the biggest Jerk in the world that's all.’ She hugged her droid friend and decided not to let that Junker get to her. She picked up her laptop and sat down at the desk and began to work. Why was it so hard to concentrate? She kept going back to her meeting with Junkrat, why? He wasn't worth it, he was just trying to upset her. She shouldn't let that jerk get to her. So why where her fingers tapping in agitation? Why was she feeling prickly anger that simmered incessantly? Why did he make her feel like she was useless here? No stop it Mei, you have work to do..tap, tap, tap. Is this that important? No of course it is, this is helpful to our efforts. Tap, tap, tap. Athena could of done this in minutes..Tap, tap, tap..I'm helping, i'm helping..aren't I? Tap, tap, tap..Doesn't he know anything?! ‘UGH!!’ She slammed the laptop shut and stood up so abruptly snowball spun midair in surprise.

‘I’m not taking this from some stupid Junker!’ She shouted, storming out of the room.

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

Roadhog was resting outside his new accommodation enjoying the cool evening breeze and the quiet, an empty canister of Hogdrogon next to him. Four left..getting low. His peace soon ended as he heard the familiar thud of a metal peg on the ground and only looked up when the sound stopped in front of him. He nodded to Junkrats metal hand. ‘Fixed it then?’

'Yeah, feels pretty good too. They even had paint!’ Junkrat replied happily, admiring his handy work.

Roadhog grunted, ‘’Can see that, got alot on you..’

Junkrat sat down next to him. ‘I had a shower! With difficulty mind you, gonna have to modify one with supports.. Maybe I can accuse them of being ableist?’

‘Don't be a dick, Rat...eaten?’

Junkrat rolled his eyes, 'Yeah.’

'Did you sleep?’

'I told you this morning I did.’

‘Still lying.’ Roadhog replied. He had heard him during the night struggling with a nightmare, thankfully it wasn't bad enough he'd have to shake him awake. He expected as much and he hoped they would calm down once he was more settled here, If the boy even knew what settled was.

‘Did you behave yourself?’

‘I was in the workshop most of the day!’

'I know..not what i asked though.’

‘Yes! Fuck!’

Roadhog looked up as something caught his eye, Junkrat didn't notice nor could he see past Roadhogs massive frame. He did look up at him however when he sighed in annoyance.

'What?’

‘Happen to piss anyone off?’

‘Don't think so, though the rusky looks like she wants to break me in half.’

‘Anyone besides her?’

He thought for a moment, ‘..No? Now im not so sure..’’

‘Well have a think cos a small chinese girl is marching over here with murder in her eyes.’

‘Wha..?’ He leaned forward to look past Roadhogs huge stomach to where he was pointing. Sure enough Mei was walking with intent towards them with a very sour look on her face.

Junkrat groaned and rubbed his hand over his face. ‘For fucks sake.’ He muttered. ‘Tell her i'm not here..’ He used Roadhogs arm to push himself up to stand.

‘Shes looking right at you.’

‘Then she can watch me leave then, not keen on that one mate.’

‘Too late.’ Muttered Roadhog as Mei stomped over to Junkrat and stood right in front of him, even with him slouching the difference in height was comical, not that this deterred her anger to whatever he had done.

‘You! You waltz in where you’re not supposed to be, insult me! Patronize me?! And think i’m just going to be ok with that? You are possible the most rude and obnoxious Jerk i've ever had the displeasure of meeting!’

‘You forgot witty, dashing, inventive and misunderstood.’

‘Why are you even here!’

‘Keep up, I was forced here. Don't have a go for making it worth me while Frosty.’ Mei glowered at him and her nostrils flared. Roadhog was now watching with interest making a wager with himself if this small woman had it in her to knock Junkrat out cold.

My.name.is.Mei, she said, gritting her teeth.

‘Jamison. But I'm gonna call you Frosty cos it suits ya.’

‘You certainly suit Junkrat!’

‘Yeah…? I'm not arguing that.’

‘Do you even know what you did? Do you even care?’

‘Oh for fucks sake woman, so I went into a lab and touched some stuff, had a lil spinny on a chair. Not like I fucking broke anything!’

‘You insulted my work!’

‘....I did?’

'You know damn well you did!’ She shouted, pointing in his face ‘ You don't know me! You don't know how much i've given to Overwatch, what i've lost. Sure maybe now my work is not priority but atleast im here trying to make a difference and working toward a better world! Not blowing it up!’

He casually tested a joint in one of his metal fingers with a disinterested look on his face before responding to her outburst, ‘...Ya done?’ He said, sounding bored. Roadhog was now watching with keen interest, certain his partner was about to be suckerpunched. From this small woman it would be hilarious. But to his disappointment she didnt. What she did next surprised even herself let alone Junkrat. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down so that they were eye level and then spoke in a deadly, quiet voice.

'Mock my work again or make me feel inadequate and I will freeze you on the spot and impale you with an icicle between the eyes and into that messed up brain of yours.’ She glared at him for good effect before pushing him away and straightening up with an air of dignity, she quickly gave an anxious look toward Roadhog and walked away, both Junkers watching her leave until she disappeared from view.

‘Nicely done.’ Roadhog said sarcastically.

‘Fuck off, she came here looking for a fight. I didn't do nothing!’

‘Liar.’

‘Honestly, she does weather or some shite and made a joke. Not my fault she's sensitive!’

‘Well you obviously made an impression.’

‘Pfft! Like I give a shit what Frosty the big-titted snowman thinks.’ He slumped down once again, crossing his arms and sulking, he was quiet for a time processing what the hell had just happened. Soon enough his eyebrows raised and a roguish grin creeped across his face.

‘Hey Hog..?’

‘Hmm?’

‘She has got fucking big tits though ain't she mate!’

#meihem #overwatch #junkrat #mei ling zhou #jamison fawkes #fanfic

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thornsnips · 4 years

Text

Ruin me.(Min Yoongi x Reader)

Summery: I honestly dont know what to put here this is terrible in more ways than one.

warnings: Strap in ladies and getlemen! Choking, Cumplay, Recciving, Bondage, Half female dom, Half male dom, slight Degration, ROUGH SEX, EXPLICIT SEX, Teasing, Orgasm control, Langauge.

You loved teasing Yoongi, you couldn’t help it. He was always seen as a being who could keep his composure, but no one else saw him behind closed doors. Whenever you teased him, you knew it was the end for you, but for now, you’d enjoy yourself. Thor let you play your little game because he knew he would be ruining you.

You both knew how easily you could easily break out of the handcuffs if he really tried, but he was letting you have the upper hand for now. Sometimes you liked to be the one on top so he was letting you be the dominant one for your sake. Though it was driving him crazy to have you teasing him so much, he stayed in his restraints.

“Y/N,” he warned, “Do something, I’m begging you,” He had to admit, you had some nice tricks up your sleeve that had him trembling. The way you moved your tongue against his thick thighs up to his pelvis to circle his throbbing cock was a weakness of his. You meticulously traced every single vein on his length and sucked the tip like it was your favorite candy. You made all types of noises while you sucked him off, moaning and slurping like a delicious hot meal. He loved feelings your spit run down to his balls, he just wanted to fuck your mouth but could do nothing about that right now.

“Be patient,” you used your hand, tightening here and there to mimic your throat, even your right pussy. That’s what he really wanted, he wanted to be buried deep inside you. There was something about the way your walls were perfectly rubbed and how soaking you got. You were never able to get as wet for someone else prior as you get with Yoongi, “You taste so good,” you praise.

He loved for you to praise him, “So big and heavy in my mouth,” you dove back down on him, feeling his thighs flex and hearing his breath hitch. You circled your clit as you fucked him with your mouth. His jaw was slack and his moans were guttural, raw and dream fulfilling. You pulled yourself up off of him, strings of spit following your lips until you wiped them away.

You straddle his waist and lean back so he has a clear view of your glistening heat. He couldn’t wait to fully sheathe himself inside of it. He had to calm himself down with a pep talk, telling himself that he was doing this for you, letting you have your fun, that he could do away with you later.

“Y/N, please, I need you,” the way his voice rasped has your hand rubbing yourself all over your body to rile yourself up.

“Keep talking. Tell me what you want, I wanna hear it all,” you pinched your nipples and your pussy clenched at the sensation, it didn’t go unnoticed. Yoongi watched the way your pussy lips moved and how more of your juices seeped out of you.

“I want to ruin you,”

“Is that right?,” slowly circling your clit, your tongue darts out to moisturize your lips. It’s hard for Yoongi to determine which set of glistening lips he wants to focus on. The ones that offer that beautiful smile? The ones that he could just kiss until your gasping or the ones that wrap him in a tight warm hug? The ones that have him convulsing because you feel so good pulsing around him.

“I want my face to be a seat of pleasure for you. To have my face coated in your sweet juices. I want to taste you, Y/N,” he loved eating you out, he tends to overstimulate you because he just can’t get enough.

He watches you dip a finger into yourself and bring it to his lips. When he opens, you snatch your finger from him and wrap your own lips around the shining digit.

He groans in frustration “Are you getting frustrated? You upset with me cause you can’t get what you want?,”

You go back to slowly tracing your clit, getting off at the sound of his moans while he watches you please yourself about two feet away from him

“Can’t wait to bury myself deep inside what’s mine,” he growled, “Can’t wait to hear you cry out because you know I’m so big and you just can’t train yourself to break me in. You love feeling that pain of me stretching you open,”

“Getting feisty,” You retorted. But was it really wrong? Not in the slightest.

He kept talking to you until you were on the edge for the second time. You had dripped onto his abs, your juices were so warm, like honey in tea, he wanted you so bad. You were the remedy to the cold that was his sexual deprivation. But he was patient.

You finally gave him a taste from your dripping fingers and he was subdued for the time being. You took his heavy cock in your hands to like yourself up with him. Running the head along your opening, he was hissing, ready for you to just sink down on him. You slowly sat down on him and his eyes closed at the delicious sound of your little squeaks as his girth was forcing you open. Your pussy was starving for him and it was finally getting fed until it was full and couldn’t take anymore.

“You feel so good,” your nails dug into his chest, he wants these damn cuffs off, but not yet, he wants to take you by surprise. You raised your ass up on him to sink down once you were accommodated to him. You set the pace and were so close to cumming already, he could feel it.

“Cum for me,” Yoongi’s tongue was caught in between his teeth, watching your juices drown his cock, making it glisten in the dimly lit room, the sound of him entering and withdrawing filled the room and was his favorite sound besides the sound of your breath hitching and cries when you cum.

“Im Gonna cum,” your ass slapped down on his thighs and it took everything in him to not plant his feet on the bed and take what was his. You still yourself on him and shook as you came. He was mesmerized by the way your breasts moved as you panted for air.

You fell against his chest and began moving your hips again, wanting another orgasm. He was calling out swears into the hot air as you rode him.

“please,” he was so cute when he begged, he knew you weren’t gonna let him cum this round but he loved to ask anyway, he loved your game of cat and mouse.

You bit down on his shoulder until you came again, tears welling in your eyes at its intensity. You kissed the bite mark you left and rested your head against his shoulder, catching your breath.

“Let’s just stay like this for a bit, yeah?,”

———

Yoongi was seething. You had fallen asleep on his chest with him still inside you He broke free of the cuffs and tore them off his wrists. His thighs were trembling, his cock was throbbing, he couldn’t wait for you to wake up so he could fuck you up.

Your walls clenched around him as you stirred awake. You moaned at the feeling of him still inside you and you still soaking.

“yoongi,” you moaned softly.

He couldn’t wait anymore, he flipped you over and pinned your hands above your head. Your legs instantly fell open with him hovering over you like this.

“I’ve Had enough of your games,” he rasps. He pulls out of you and gasps at the air hitting his sensitive tip.

You smugly smirk and tilt your head, faking innocence, “Ruin me,”

Yoongi moves his hips forward in a flash. Your back arches off the bed as the air is thrusted out of you.

“enough of you teasing me. Think you can get away with riding my cock all wild like that and leave me without a release? Only greedy sluts do that, Y/N,”

“W-well I guess I’m your greedy slut, ”

“ Damn right,”

His hands squeeze and grope your breasts while he fucks himself so deep into you that you wanna tap out. But you deserved this, he needed this. legs wide open, pussy wet and tight,

He was not happy with you and you could tell by the way he wraps his hand around your throat. You become lightheaded while your hands wrap themselves around his wrists to hold him there. Your eyes were fluttering and that’s when he began to fuck you faster.

“Gonna pass out on me? Too overwhelmed to stay awake?,”

He tears his hand away from your throat and you violently gasp and scream at his cock knocking against your cervix. It didn’t take much for him to get deep.

When you seemed to catch your breath he began choking you again, each time brought you closer to cumming again.

“I’m Gonna cum,”

“Nuh uh, not until I do,” he demanded. He pushed his thumb into your mouth, your tongue swirling, jaws hollowing just as if you were sucking his cock. Once he felt like his thumb was wet enough, he ran it over your clit, back and forth, fucking you at an unforgiving pace while tears from being overwhelmed fell from the sides of your eyes.

“Wanna feel that pussy clenching around me to make me cum. You know I love it when you do that,”

He loved it when your walls clenched him in a tight embrace, almost as off they didn’t want him to leave. Your pussy was a home for his cock and your pussy knew that.

He took your hips in his hands and brought you to meet his thrusts. Your hands clawing at the headboard as you were practically screaming for him.

“Yes,Fuck me just like that, just like that!,” you were whining and exhausted, but your body, mind and soul needed this orgasm.

His skin clapped against yours in a staccatoed rhythm as he came, “Oh, my love,” his voice hoarse and wanton. Sweat ran down his face from his temples.

You lay sprawled out on the bed, convulsing as you came one more time as the sun began shining in your room. Your lungs burned for air, mouth dry from it hanging open in pleasure.

Yoongi ran his hands over your face gently to help calm you down, placing soft kisses all over your hot skin while pulling out slowly. You whimper desperately at the loss of him despite knowing you’ll feel him again in a few hours time.

“I love you, ” lips lightly touching yours as your eyes stared into his in adoration.

“Not as much as I love you,”

Note: oh my god what have I become

You loved teasing Yoongi, you couldn’t help it. He was always seen as a being who could keep his composure, but no one else saw him behind closed doors.

Whenever you teased him, you knew it was the end for you, but for now, you’d enjoy yourself. Thor let you play your little game because he knew he would be ruining you.

You meticulously traced every single vein on his length and sucked the tip like it was your favorite candy. You made all types of noises while you sucked him off, moaning and slurping like a delicious hot meal. He loved feelings your spit run down to his balls, he just wanted to fuck your mouth but could do nothing about that right now.

“Y/N, please, I need you,” the way his voice rasped has your hand rubbing yourself all over your body to rile yourself up.

“I want to ruin you,”

He watches you dip a finger into yourself and bring it to his lips. When he opens, you snatch your finger from him and wrap your own lips around the shining digit.

He groans in frustration “Are you getting frustrated? You upset with me cause you can’t get what you want?,”

You go back to slowly tracing your clit, getting off at the sound of his moans while he watches you please yourself about two feet away from him

“Getting feisty,” You retorted. But was it really wrong? Not in the slightest.

You fell against his chest and began moving your hips again, wanting another orgasm. He was calling out swears into the hot air as you rode him.

“please,” he was so cute when he begged, he knew you weren’t gonna let him cum this round but he loved to ask anyway, he loved your game of cat and mouse.

You bit down on his shoulder until you came again, tears welling in your eyes at its intensity. You kissed the bite mark you left and rested your head against his shoulder, catching your breath.

“Let’s just stay like this for a bit, yeah?,”

———

Yoongi was seething. You had fallen asleep on his chest with him still inside you

He broke free of the cuffs and tore them off his wrists. His thighs were trembling, his cock was throbbing, he couldn’t wait for you to wake up so he could fuck you up.

Your walls clenched around him as you stirred awake. You moaned at the feeling of him still inside you and you still soaking.

“yoongi,” you moaned softly.

He couldn’t wait anymore, he flipped you over and pinned your hands above your head. Your legs instantly fell open with him hovering over you like this.

“I’ve Had enough of your games,” he rasps. He pulls out of you and gasps at the air hitting his sensitive tip.

You smugly smirk and tilt your head, faking innocence, “Ruin me,”

Yoongi moves his hips forward in a flash. Your back arches off the bed as the air is thrusted out of you.

“enough of you teasing me. Think you can get away with riding my cock all wild like that and leave me without a release? Only greedy sluts do that, Y/N,”

“W-well I guess I’m your greedy slut, ”

“ Damn right,”

His hands squeeze and grope your breasts while he fucks himself so deep into you that you wanna tap out. But you deserved this, he needed this. legs wide open, pussy wet and tight,

“Gonna pass out on me? Too overwhelmed to stay awake?,”

He tears his hand away from your throat and you violently gasp and scream at his cock knocking against your cervix. It didn’t take much for him to get deep.

When you seemed to catch your breath he began choking you again, each time brought you closer to cumming again.

“I’m Gonna cum,”

“Wanna feel that pussy clenching around me to make me cum. You know I love it when you do that,”

He loved it when your walls clenched him in a tight embrace, almost as off they didn’t want him to leave. Your pussy was a home for his cock and your pussy knew that.

He took your hips in his hands and brought you to meet his thrusts. Your hands clawing at the headboard as you were practically screaming for him.

“Yes,Fuck me just like that, just like that!,” you were whining and exhausted, but your body, mind and soul needed this orgasm.

His skin clapped against yours in a staccatoed rhythm as he came, “Oh, my love,” his voice hoarse and wanton. Sweat ran down his face from his temples.

You lay sprawled out on the bed, convulsing as you came one more time as the sun began shining in your room. Your lungs burned for air, mouth dry from it hanging open in pleasure.

“I love you, ” lips lightly touching yours as your eyes stared into his in adoration.

“Not as much as I love you,”

Note: oh my god what have I become

You loved teasing Yoongi, you couldn’t help it. He was always seen as a being who could keep his composure, but no one else saw him behind closed doors.

Whenever you teased him, you knew it was the end for you, but for now, you’d enjoy yourself. Thor let you play your little game because he knew he would be ruining you.

“Y/N, please, I need you,” the way his voice rasped has your hand rubbing yourself all over your body to rile yourself up.

“I want to ruin you,”

He watches you dip a finger into yourself and bring it to his lips. When he opens, you snatch your finger from him and wrap your own lips around the shining digit.

He groans in frustration “Are you getting frustrated? You upset with me cause you can’t get what you want?,”

You go back to slowly tracing your clit, getting off at the sound of his moans while he watches you please yourself about two feet away from him

“Getting feisty,” You retorted. But was it really wrong? Not in the slightest.

You fell against his chest and began moving your hips again, wanting another orgasm. He was calling out swears into the hot air as you rode him.

“please,” he was so cute when he begged, he knew you weren’t gonna let him cum this round but he loved to ask anyway, he loved your game of cat and mouse.

You bit down on his shoulder until you came again, tears welling in your eyes at its intensity. You kissed the bite mark you left and rested your head against his shoulder, catching your breath.

“Let’s just stay like this for a bit, yeah?,”

———

Yoongi was seething. You had fallen asleep on his chest with him still inside you

He broke free of the cuffs and tore them off his wrists. His thighs were trembling, his cock was throbbing, he couldn’t wait for you to wake up so he could fuck you up.

Your walls clenched around him as you stirred awake. You moaned at the feeling of him still inside you and you still soaking.

“yoongi,” you moaned softly.

He couldn’t wait anymore, he flipped you over and pinned your hands above your head. Your legs instantly fell open with him hovering over you like this.

“I’ve Had enough of your games,” he rasps. He pulls out of you and gasps at the air hitting his sensitive tip.

You smugly smirk and tilt your head, faking innocence, “Ruin me,”

Yoongi moves his hips forward in a flash. Your back arches off the bed as the air is thrusted out of you.

“enough of you teasing me. Think you can get away with riding my cock all wild like that and leave me without a release? Only greedy sluts do that, Y/N,”

“W-well I guess I’m your greedy slut, ”

“ Damn right,”

His hands squeeze and grope your breasts while he fucks himself so deep into you that you wanna tap out. But you deserved this, he needed this. legs wide open, pussy wet and tight,

“Gonna pass out on me? Too overwhelmed to stay awake?,”

He tears his hand away from your throat and you violently gasp and scream at his cock knocking against your cervix. It didn’t take much for him to get deep.

When you seemed to catch your breath he began choking you again, each time brought you closer to cumming again.

“I’m Gonna cum,”

“Wanna feel that pussy clenching around me to make me cum. You know I love it when you do that,”

He loved it when your walls clenched him in a tight embrace, almost as off they didn’t want him to leave. Your pussy was a home for his cock and your pussy knew that.

He took your hips in his hands and brought you to meet his thrusts. Your hands clawing at the headboard as you were practically screaming for him.

“Yes,Fuck me just like that, just like that!,” you were whining and exhausted, but your body, mind and soul needed this orgasm.

His skin clapped against yours in a staccatoed rhythm as he came, “Oh, my love,” his voice hoarse and wanton. Sweat ran down his face from his temples.

You lay sprawled out on the bed, convulsing as you came one more time as the sun began shining in your room. Your lungs burned for air, mouth dry from it hanging open in pleasure.

“I love you, ” lips lightly touching yours as your eyes stared into his in adoration.

“Not as much as I love you,”

Note: oh my god what have I become WHAT HAVE I MADE?!?!

#kpop smut #yoongi x reader #kinkyshit #bts min yoongi

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kataracy · 5 years

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My job just does not care that rent is like 400+ huh cool cool im about to go awf under this read more if yall dont mind

FREGIURGTTKJLKKSAKDSFKAFSLJL GOD FUCKING FUCK?WHAT IS THE DEAL FFFFFFF ok story time:

So I work at corner bakery cafe its a weird fusion fast casual place where i make $9/hr, less than what i’ve made from my last jobs but incredibly close to where i live like deadass across the street. So I have a manager that I steadily don’t get along with, he’s a blowhard. He picks a person to be mad at for the day, he hovers, he treats the girls there like his personal punching bags and I noticed all of that and started to dislike him to the point where I just couldn’t work with him.

I would go in on days where he would close, because i work the night shift (my job favors the day shift btw. They only care about having people work in the day shift the dont give a fuck about night crew is ridiculous how much the dont clean up after their shifts and we have to pick up behind these grown ass women) and i would noticeably make little o no effort to converse with him, I just went in, did my job and went home.

He would write me up for not saying hi to him. He would constantly start telling the GM I was being insubordinate when i was literally doing everything good at my job except talking to his sensitive ass. So I complained to the GM. I begged him to not put me on any more shifts with this manager because i was Tired of getting written u for nothing and I was tired of not having fun at my job. I was getting anxiety attacks while working with this dude it was so bad because again, he HOVERS. HE STANDS IN THE FRONT WHEN THERE IS OTHER STUFF TO DO AND JUST FUCKING HOVERS LIKE CAN YOU GO FIND SOMETHING TO DO and my GM said ok its fine we know (BECAUSE THE DONT LIKE HIM EITHER WE LITERALLY WOULD TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH WE DID NOT LIKE THIS DUDE OK NONE OF THE MANAGERS LIKE HIM) we will try not to put you on the same shift, we’ll let Z (the scheduling manager) know and if u do have to be scheduled with him make sure you find a cover and we’ll tell him to leave you alone because we know you know how to do your job.

So. That was a fucking lie.

They keep scheduling him with me. I tell another manager I don’t like him and why and he says I get it I’ll let B (GM) know.

So I keep getting scheduled with him. And how the hell am I supposed to know when because, the managers have an entirely different schedule thats just their shifts and its fucking private. They end up scheduling me with him again and again and I just don’t show up one day I let the night manager know hey im not coming in on these 2 days, i found someone for this day but not this one so i hope yall find someone.

And then the next day, im getting called by a coworker like hey where are you are you coming in and i say no. no im not. i gave the managers plenty of time ( a whole fucking day) to find someone else bc they know i dont like working with this man. i said im not coming in repeatedly. im not coming in. but the coworker keeps fucking picking at me and saying hey they dont have anyone can you please come and then i get so pissed off i say im on my way and when i get there the fucking manager says you can go home i found someone.

I get so pissed. Why did you keep calling me then?

I didn;t call you they called you.

and the coworker that kept calling me and making me feel guilty for not wanting to work with this man who makes me uncomfortable and pissed and anxious, is my boyfriend. My fucking boyfriend decided this job was more important than my feelings that day and it was beyond hurtful dude im tearing up just talking about it because god it hurt, it was like a dramatic ass betrayal (AND THAT JOB IS SO DRAMATIC BY THE WAY THEY WILL GET SO FUCKING UNCOORDINATED OVER A SMALL RUSH ITS THE STUPIDEST SHIT)

So I go back there and im so angry now. Why have you been blowing up my phone to tell me to come in and being so dramatic. There arent even any customers in here. Why did you keep calling me asking me to come in when they already found somebody.

They just found somebody.

So you could call me and even come back home to fucking say they asked you to come get me> But you cant find the time to pick up the phone again and send a quick nvm?

The next day im scheduled. Another write up from the manager who loves writing me up. because he couldn’t be a fucking manager and just find a replacement no, he had to call and tattle-tell on me to the GM for nothing. I get called in to office by the scheduling manager.

So GM asked me to have you read this, its a warning. I heard you have problems with B and I din’t know that.

I find out they never fucking told the scheduling manager. they lied to me to just keep me coming in.

And... listen. look. I get that everyone in that place must have a complaint. I get that the managers must hear complaints all the time but. just because they do, does not mean my complaint matters less. Im a young woman who is uncomfortable working with an older male manager, how about yall give a shit about that at least. This job didnt care about me the entire time and that hurts even fucking more.

So now, im only getting two days. Because instead of the other managers just stepping up and working the easy night shift, instead of being accommodating and considerate, they decide to just shit on my feelings like this.

The last time I went in. the manager is fucking talking to me because thats what fucking happens. The more you work with someone like that, the more they get use to you not liking them and being uncomfortable with them and they decide they dont fucking care, that they dont have o be accountable. that they can just keep messing with you. My last shift was so anxiety riddled I had to excuse myself 5 times (I counted the tissues) to go fucking cry because of how awful it felt to just, be surrounded by so many people who have the power to do something and yet, decide they just dont feel like it.

He keeps his shifts and i have to deal with having 2.

He works on salary, I have 9 dollars an hour.

my bf and i had to move out of our 1 bedroom that we share with his dad because we needed the space and rent is an extra $100. I broke my glasses last month and cant afford to get replacements so i have been straining my eyes faily. I have to pay a full internet bill from my account and my bf gives me half of that. the dog wont stop fucking barking and giving the cat fleas. My mother and I dont speak, we have no relationship. I dont want to ask my aunts for money any more than i already do, i have no family out here, i only have like 3 friends that are close enough to visit and even then, i dont have a car and “close” equals driving distance and... i’m just

I am so exhausted haha. its been such a long few months. The ups and downs are there but, the downs have been so much more amplified lately its hard to see a silver lining so i just, idk, I dont know. I do not know.

I got our new schedule today. Only two days. This ko-fi stuff and this commission stuff guys its what i have right now. Its what i need to work because nothing else is. lol im not a begging person, im not like... this. Im not so open but, i could really use any help right now, please. Just share the links, if u dont see something u like maybe someone else will, and that hope is the only thing i can look forward to right now. thanks for reading this far if u did. thanks for listening to me yell about avatar for all these years thanks for following me and giving me notes and making me laugh and making me smile and im burned out after all of this so, take care guys.

#this is more a main blog topic but i consider this my main blog since i interact with this one more than my other even though im trying #to leave tumblr #it is so hard to type without glasses im like putting my face on the keyboard to be able to see the screen pft #after this post goes up i will reblog my com sheet again if i havemt already #i need to lay down my cramps are killing my back and in hindsight thats probably why im so openly emotional rn

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bucky-is-a-hero-fightme · 5 years

Text

In Your Heartbeat (16/16)

IN YOUR HEARTBEAT MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky/Reader, Natasha/Sister!Reader

Word Count: IT’S A LONG ONE, like 13k approx. Sorry.

Warnings: ... :) Nothing that hasn’t been common to previous parts of the story: mentions and descriptions of torture, death, and violence. And angst.

A/N: Last chapter, people! I hope you enjoy and...yeah. I’m sorry for my prolonged absence, but now I am here to stay (kinda).

Italicized bits are either (or and in some cases hehe) a memory, dream, or one of the futures the Reader sees. I tried to make it as clear as possible, if there’s something you don’t understand or seems confusing, don’t hesitate to let me know.

Taglist: @learisa @lixbean @quiessilva-meriff @miss-i-ship-it @221bbands @darkblueeyedperson @beansparker @fairislesheets @aunty-peggy @me-myself-and-i-4-the-win @checkintoreality @dontwintilligetthere @neuschwanstein

“The moment you put a gun in my hands I will shoot you, and if I can’t do that, I will shoot myself.” You snarl back, jaw clenched and fighting back impotent tears that rise in your eyes.

“We’ll see about that, girl.”

It’s been three weeks, and you have never stood on more unstable ground.

All you have done is train, and though Karpov holds a gun to the back of your head for most of the time, and guards follow you closely everywhere, no one has laid a hand on you.

But that’s all there has been to it, for almost three weeks. Wake up, train, report to Karpov, sleep, repeat.

Considering Hydra’s hierarchy, that you are awfully familiar with after years of running away or towards them, you cannot help but notice you are being treated not as a soldier, but as an officer. A high ranking one, at that.

Your quarters are on the farthest end of the facility, with full accommodations -aside form the comms that were ripped off the wall before you were brought in- and your bed is as soft as that in the compound.

There’s agents around you at all times, yes, but they are respectful and almost…fearful towards you. When soldiers are sent to train with you, training is all there is to it, no unnecessary brutality, no cruelty.

Despite your efforts to run away, despite the agents you have killed in the multiple attempts to get out; Karpov has remained patient, his men obedient and you…you are left terrified.

Karpov has managed to get you on a tight leash, without even lifting a finger.

You have tried escaping, of course you have.

You disarm the Colonel as he approaches, raising the gun to his head and smiling in triumph.

“I told you that you shouldn’t leave me near a gun.”

“Go ahead, shoot me. But do one thing for me first, see what you can see happening afterwards,” His voice is calm, too calm even, as he nods your way, “Use your powers, Y/N.”

You do, and the rush of images of blood and screams following Karpov’s death fill your mind, countless soldiers dead at your feet but never enough, your body being forced down and the sound of that damned machine that still stands in the middle of the containment area of the facility starting up fills your ears.

You drop the gun, but keep your eyes on Karpov, waiting for his move.

“I will not become your weapon.” You snarl as the guards ready themselves to escort you to your quarters. The Colonel merely smiles, with a confident and mocking smirk you know too well.

Too many times to count you have tried.

The sound of the knife swiftly leaving the holster wakes up the Colonel, and you hold back a smile as you watch the middle-aged man rise in bed.

You say nothing as you approach, knife in hand and aimed at his throat.

His big hand traps your forearm before you can do so, and Karpov brings his face close to your own.

“You will not. You are too good.”

“Oh, fuck you.” You spit back, adjusting your grip on the handle to strike, but you feel a thread strengthening suddenly, and reach for your energy to see what will happen.

You see yourself running away from the facility, quickly taking over a snow truck and reaching Kiev in a matter of days.

You see your eyes watching in horror at the screens on a train station: Black Widow, original member of the Avengers, rumored to have been sniped and killed while in Stark tower. Tony Stark imp-…

An enraged scream leaves your throat at the way Karpov has outplayed you again, and let go of the knife, but not before piercing his clavicle with it, embedding him on the bed.

And too many times you have failed.

So silent you remain, and you take on the training sessions, and you report your progress to the Colonel each night before going to sleep. And you go to your bed, close your eyes, wait for the facility to fall asleep, and sneak out.

You have studied the Winter Soldier book Karpov kept close to his heart for all these years. You have learnt about the practices in the facility more acutely in these last weeks than in over a year of researching Hydra’s Ghost.

The files on Project Cataclysm are impressive in on themselves too, although the development of the serum and its applications were merely Hydra stumbling in the dark, so no important data was found in the old files within Siberia’s underground base.

You have ten words memorized in your head, a dozen others meant for emergency reactions safe within your memory. You know Karpov will not meddle with it. Your memory, you mean. He has told you time and time again that he wants an agent, a voluntary one, not another Asset. Assets fall from grace, break programming, but someone loyal to the mission, even if not its ideals? They will handle Hydra the world once again.

Still, you know what this man is capable of, experienced it through the eyes of your soulmate one too many times; and you know that despite his claims to want you to be compliant by choice, there’s nothing stopping him from punishing you for your attempts on his life, or the lives of the agents you have cost him.

Yet, he doesn’t much as raise his voice at you. It scares you, and not because you fear Karpov himself, but because you know whatever makes him fear the repercussions of harm falling unto you is something out of nightmares.

A sharp pain spreads through your side when one of the soldiers tries bringing you back out of your thoughts and into the sparring session. You unsheathe a knife and throw it his way, letting it find a home in his thigh before he can even correct his stance.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“We are supposed to spar.” He growls out, taking out the bloodied knife and throwing it somewhere behind him. Your lips twist into a snarl as you approach him, already playing with another throwing knife between your fingers.

“Wanna spar? I bet you make a great bullseye.” You tease, easy smile on your lips as you see the man’s eyes fill with fear.

There’s a second too long, even as you back down and drop the act that has become too much like your own skin in these last weeks, where you see in him the fear that you will slice his throat open in the middle of the training ground.

His fear unsettles you much less than it should. But you try not to linger on it, Karpov’s guards are here, with their gazes set on you. A slip and he will know you are crumbling, and he can’t. Your only advantage over him is that you refuse to agree to his terms, bow down to his demands. You cannot allow him the satisfaction of seeing the monster take over the girl.

At least not until the time is right.

Your powers have been strengthened more than you thought possible, the futures you can see now, although maybe a little blurrier and more uncertain, go into the farther future. And you have felt, in snippets, broken edges that are slowly being pieced together, the way Siberia’s cold will graze your arms as you walk out free. That is enough to make you wait, to make you plan and weight the choices before jumping into battle.

That, and Karpov’s thinly veiled threats to your sister and your soulmate. He knows what he is doing, even if some sick part of him is still out for blood when it comes to you and Bucky for what you did decades ago, even if he still wants the Soldat at his feet.

So you grit your teeth and go through the motions, waiting for the crack in the Colonel’s armor, waiting for the day you can finally see his eyes dim with the just and unescapable touch of Death.

The man in question sits in front of you in his office, datapad on his hand as he scrolls through some file.

“Have your powers improved in any way?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Try seeing what I will do next, girl. And then ponder about lying to me again.”

You narrow your eyes with a scoff, but do it anyways, reaching for his energy and trying to feel the tangled tendrils of his intentions.

You are brought to the upper levels of the facility. The hissing sound of a cryo chamber opening scratching your ears.

They drag a blonde woman out. She is quickly restrained, but a few barked words in Russian make her stop trying to get free, make her eyes stop bubbling with that animal rage.

Her eyes set on you for a second, and she smiled, a terrifying turn of her lips as they twist on a silent growl rather than a smile, the same edge of Kseniya’s unhinged certainty shining in her clear eyes as she regards you.

“Она мягкая. И испугался. (She is soft. And scared.)” The woman sneers, but Karpov is quick to stop her on her tracks.

“Она также защищена.” (Protected too.)

“Но я хочу играть” (But I want to play.)

You blink past the images in your head, and stare at the Colonel with wide eyes.

“Are you putting me up against a Winter Soldier!?”

Karpov smiles, leaning back and regarding you with the rejoiced expression of someone with a winning hand.

“No. I’m sending her to New York.”

Live footage, right from the Soldier’s attached camera, shows her way into the compound, sneaking right into the heart of the facility. You are forced to stay still on the chair where they put you, watching with fearful eyes as the Russian Winter Soldier enters the compound.

Quickly placed bombs, set to detonate on her mark. She continues stalking the corridors. Wanda’s room is not even opened as the blonde shoots through the door and ends the Sokovian.

You choke down a sob, but tears are streaming down your eyes as you watch.

An alarm. Four soldiers standing in front of her. The recognition in Bucky’s eyes. The fear in Natalia’s.

Vibranium knife lodges right in the place where skin meets metal on Bucky’s arm. Before the blonde can move in for the kill, a redhead moves in, gun in hand and shield in the other.

“Where is my sister?”

“мертвый”

It is enough to stagger the Widow, the Soldier’s knife going right through her chest. Natalia’s mouth opens with a scream, but blood dribbling down her parted lips quickly quietens her voice.

The sound of your own gasping breaths brings you out of the future your powers provide, tears brimming in your eyes as you face Karpov with a mix of rage and pain.

“Now, tell me about your new limits in your powers, Y/N.” He states, cold and professional demeanor as he regards you with a glint of triumph in his tired and dead eyes.

You do, through gritted teeth and with bare minimum details, eyes defiant on his. When the Colonel motions for you to leave, you lean on his desk, towering over his sitting form.

“I will kill you at the end, you know it, right?”

“Have you seen it?” He teases, easy smile on his lips that makes bile churn your stomach.

“I don’t need to.”

He chuckles, as if dealing with a child, and motions for you to be escorted out of his office.

____

On these last few weeks, Karpov has pushed you to try to find a link, a trace of the energy you follow to find the possible futures pertaining to one person, in objects of emotional significance to them, one way or another.

It has worked. And the Colonel is disgustingly happy with the achievement.

He makes you try and see the futures of old agents, sometimes runaway ones. The notes taken on your reports are vast and quick, but they are never shown to you.

And this blinding success is what allows you to breach into the network of one of the mining facilities Karpov takes you to, being the dog at his side as he monitors the situation.

The Doctor is focused on the results in your recent exams, reading over and over the words in your reports over your powers and their use, when you are cleaning their trace in the net. Leaving what you hope Natalia finds, the perfect absence you left behind when you wanted your sister, but no one else, to find you.

You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut at night, hoping to whatever is willing to listen that they can find you. You can only hope, and you fear the destruction that terrible and dangerous hope can leave behind.

___

It comes a day when you fear they will not find you, that the message was not enough and they will not find the trace back to you. They do. But it is already too late.

Karpov is tipped off by one of his men that Captain America is incoming. Only a slight nod is all the answer the Colonel gives, before he is left alone with you, and turns slowly to you.

You try telling yourself it is not fear what runs through your veins the moment you stand face to face with the bloodthirsty Colonel you remember almost killing when you were young. You try telling yourself it’s adrenaline, excitement…but there’s no hiding the trembling in your hands, the erratic beat of your heart when the familiar sounds of fighting approach the facility and Karpov stands silently before you, dead grey eyes on yours.

“You made a mistake, girl.”

A smile is all you give in return, before reaching for the knife at your back and rising your arm in defense.

“Don’t come any closer.” You warn, backing towards the door. The Colonel smiles, a frightening, sinister smile.

“Scared?”

Before long, you move to strike before he can decide to. Going for a clean cut in his torso, which he quickly deflects, you lose your balance for a second.

Hand grabs your arm, twisting the wrist and having the knife fall from your grasp.

You move your wrist out of his reach, but his hand never moves to grab it. Instead, long fingers wrap around your throat, lifting you up.

The knife changes hands, and you reach up with your left hand, slicing the inside of his elbow, forcing a grunt out of his lips and setting you free.

The bloodloss makes him dizzy, the uninjured arm tries swinging your way, but fails.

Predicting his clumsy moves, you try bolting for the door, hoping the team outside has any sort of long-range support to cover you once you are out.

But Karpov’s heavy boot lands painfully on your calves, forcing your knees to buckle, but before you can fall to the ground, the Colonel pins you to the wall, his forearm pressed roughly against your back and breath rough on your ear when he growls,

“Too slow, girl.”

Despite the pain on your head from where it hit the wall, the way your body still sings with a mixture of fear and the relief of finally facing off the monster under your bed; you keep your jaw set tight and your eyes dry when you are forced to turn and watch Karpov in the eye.

Moving up your arm before he can completely immobilize you, you press the blade to your throat.

And as expected, the man lets you go.

“I know your weakness, Karpov,” You purr, turning around and forcing blood to drip from the small cut you trace on your skin, all the while ignoring the sharp sting of it. The man’s eyes are focused on it, prompting your smile to turn a little less false, a lot more cold. “You have played all your cards.

You walk slowly away from him, circling him as he gauges your stance, your expression, trying to predict you. Like one predator against another, you stand still, the knife against your throat still, his eyes distrusting and almost fearful too.

“Your weakness, it’s a thing as human as fear. It’s the natural fear, the one that you can’t shake off, the one that haunts you no matter what you do to avoid it…that’s the fear that will burn you down, Colonel,” You watch his hands clench, his eyes travel to the door behind you separating you from freedom and the chaos of battle, when you tighten your grip on the knife, and force more blood down your throat. “And you fear what is away from your reach, what you can’t predict, what lies beyond your control.”

“I control you, girl.”

But you shake your head, a mix of joy and cold satisfaction running through you like an electrical current. You just have to buy yourself time before Natalia, judging by the light and precise steps approaching the hallway, finds you.

“You said it yourself, Karpov. You know better than to mess with a soulbond,” The smile in your lips widens, “Prove me wrong, let me bleed, let me hurt. Let me be in so much pain that I turn to Hydra for reprieve.

You cock your head to the side, the sting of the blade on your neck nothing compared to the great feeling of victory settling over you.

“You won’t, will you? Because you have tried the same before. Burning me out of existence. I remember,” There’s a moment when you think the Colonel will interrupt you, speak up. But he doesn’t, so you continue, “You won’t touch a hair on my head and I know why, Colonel. You don’t fear me, you don’t even fear Bucky, or my sister. You fear what happens when he feels me in the other end of the bond, suffering. You fear what happens when Natalia is out for blood. You fear what I will do with you once I know they are out of your reach. You fear us.

Although there’s a strong pull to reach for the strengthening bind to the future, you ignore it for the time being, being sure to put on a mocking smile on your face when you state,

“Like I said. You fear what you can’t control.”

You feel your heartbeat settle in your chest with painful beats, the name-less tune forced and struggling as you stumble back, your powers taking over your senses.

There’s a strange pull taking your focus away from the fight out of the facility holding your sister’s hand on one of your own and skillfully maneuvering your gun with the other.

You try shaking your head, getting rid of it, but a bullet flying past your head from a place at your back has both you and Natalia tumbling forward to cover, and when you turn around you feel your heart stop.

It’s stupid, it’s reckless. God, you know it is.

But there’s still hope clinging to your words, like the blood tainting your lips, dripping slowly into your voice.

“Bucky?”

The Winter Soldier moves in for the attack, not even waiting for you or your sister to move. Natalia pushes you away from the blunt of the hit from his metal arm, your back hitting a wall as you watch with wide eyes as Natalia is hit square in her chest, falling to the floor and crawling away from the advancing soldier like a scared child trying to find refuge in her parents’ arms.

“Sestra!” You scream, the word torn off your throat in a desperate attempt to make the world stop spinning, to make time freeze for just one instant, to make the mistresses of fate realized they have punished them enough.

A moment of hesitation, a breath caught in your throat.

Bucky turns to you, and you see some flicker of recognition flash behind the Soldat’s cold gaze.

The sound of the gunshot is something that your soul knows somehow, you will never forget.

When Bucky falls, there’s tears in your sister’s eyes, and a smoking handgun on her trembling, guilty hands.

You try warning Natalia, you try reaching out and doing something to save either of them, but your eyes fall closed, your body tumbling down, before you can even utter a sound.

Kseniya chases you through the streets, agile legs carrying her over the roofs as she catches up to you. Letting herself fall down right in front of you, although a few feet away, the blonde points her gun at you, dead eyes set on yours, and you do the same thing.

“You want me alive,” You state, praying she doesn’t hear the tremor in your voice. “I won’t let you take me.”

“I can make you,” She smirks, pretending to advance, and managing to set you even more on edge as you try to keep an eye on both her and the threads referring to each possible future.

You take a step back, “You can’t. What do you want me for?”

“You are needed, girl. The miracles failed, is time to go back to good ol’ weapons.” She sing-songs, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. In what seems like a puff of smoke, she is standing right in front of you.

You shoot. One, two times.

But the bullets go through her like she is made of mist.

“What…?”

She smirks your way, taking out a picture from your backpack and pretending to study it. You can only stare at her with wide eyes.

“Nice picture, dolly,” She lifts her eyes to yours, and only then you notice the way some sort of dark mist is swimming inside of them, like the red you saw in the new girl in the Avengers group. She presses her palm to your chest, over your heart, and leaves the picture pressed against your jacket. “Better give it back to its owner, pretty thing. It’s never too late, is it?”

“Kseniya?” You whisper. She looks at you, now her clear eyes shining with unsheded tears, her mouth trembling. Her expression is that of the broken girl that killed her soulmate and begged a stranger with whom she shared a distant past for forgiveness.

But there’s a strange fierceness in it too, a flame trying to ignite a fire past Hydra’s ice.

“It’s not too late,” She whispers, the distinct sound of crackling fire reaching your ears. “You had to take my place to set me free. But there’s still time.”

“Time?” You ask, watching numbly as flames engulf her form, her hand still stubbornly pressing the picture into your heart.

Her silver eyes set on you, a broken relief flooding them, and she falls down at your feet. The flames die surrounding her, a last rite to another victim of Siberia’s cold, and what is left is a girl with a bullet on her head, lying dead on the ground, somewhere on a lost island in the Indian Ocean.

You look down at your hand, the picture now in your hand as you press it into your heart, trying to somehow keep it safe.

The face of the past looks right back at you, and the words embedded in the back swim in your head.

“Bucky. Bucky. Don’t forget that. Count the beats, don’t forget that. Bucky.” You whisper.

You smell the clean and spiked scent of a hospital room before you even open your eyes. Your first thought is whether or not the team made it out of the facility you sent them to, if they found anything to lead them to you, and how to erase the trail before Karpov can do something worse than death upon any of you.

A doctor greets you with a tight smile and fearful eyes, prompting you to get up and walk a few steps, checking your blood pressure and letting the small clip still be attached to your finger, so you can heart the maddening beat of your heartbeat, driving you crazy.

The incident in the facility replays in your brain like a broken record.

Karpov worked around my ability to predict him.

When you ask the doctor what was the reason you collapsed, she states something about low blood sugar and the air pressure in the mining facility before giving you your new schedule and escorting back to bed.

You are set to train almost twice as many hours as before, with so many of the time invested in training being focused on your abilities instead of your combat techniques. You say nothing when she asks if you have any questions, but there’s a part of you that cannot help but notice you have been liberated of reporting to Karpov each night.

The doctor leaves, promising you that you will be ‘home’ soon, and it is only then that you realize you are in a vehicle. When you open your eyes again, you notice you still are in one of Hydra’s underground trains, you can tell by the damp smell that still clouds the wagon. There’s a presence next to you, but you refuse to acknowledge him.

“What is it going to take for you to accept it?”

“That I’m not getting out? Death, Karpov.” You answer back, eyes still on the black nothingness of the tunnel as it flies past your widow.

“That you may get out if you do as you are told.”

The resilient silver of childish hope rises within you, but you are quick to tame it with the reality of who you are dealing with.

“How many people have you asked for their souls in exchange for freedom, Colonel?”

“Not many that could pay up for said freedom,” You turn to him, not saying anything, but the interest subtly shown in your moves. The man is dressed in civilian, although almost formal clothing, his hands folded in his lap and eyes set on the front of the empty wagon as he continues, “I want you to find a former agent. Rumlow, Brock Rumlow. He has gone haywire, and I fear he will…tamper our name.”

“You want him dead.”

“I’m not sending you into the field.”

“Smart.” You admit, wry smile twisting your lips.

“I want him found and tracked, girl. You will see it is easier if you comply.”

The word in itself makes bile rise in your throat, acid churn in your stomach. Karpov stands up, straightening his clothes before setting off to walk out of the wagon, but not before stating,

“And no tricks, girl. I get word you are bringing them to us, and I won’t stop them, I won’t escape. I’m going to have the Soldat rip them apart as you watch. And then put a bullet in his brain. If I’m merciful.”

You don’t say anything, clenching your jaw and looking ahead as the man leaves with measured and heavy steps. Helplessness and fear battle within you, making your hands shake and lip quiver stupidly.

But you push past it, you try seeing the light at the end, the possibility of maybe freedom. You don’t think you can live on without that stupid hope.

And you are not counting on Karpov for your freedom, oh no. You are counting ghosts.

While searching for Rumlow, you sneak in small pieces of data on Kseniya, her work with Karpov and the events that led to her awakening by the Colonel more than a year ago to find you.

You study what you remember of the girl, her words, her actions.

You study what it takes to make someone kill their own soulmate. You study what they did to her, what left no marks but made her so pliable to Hydra’s whims.

You study what is so important they want out of you.

You study what will make you their soldier.

There’s countless files on the Winter Soldier Program scattered through your room, pages upon pages on Hydra’s insight on their perfect weapon.

You study what Bucky told you of his time as the Soldier. The training, the mind tricks, the lies.

You study the techniques they used to control him, their plans for his future. You study their intent to conjoint Hydra’s most powerful sources when they sent him to the Red Room, the project your death inadvertently stopped.

You study what they wanted to make out of the girls in the Red Room. The children in Project Cataclysm.

You study what they wanted, and want still, to make out of you.

____

It is somewhere in the middle of the night, almost a week after the incident in the mining facility, and you still haven’t seen Karpov. You haven’t reported to him, interacted with him.

All you do is train. Train and track Brock Rumlow in his mad path through Europe.

And research what the girl Karpov woke up, the girl that killed her own soulmate, wanted out of you.

You hold a picture, almost as old as the one Bucky has of you, of Kseniya Nikolaev. Third child of a family of five, taken at the age of sixteen and turned into an experiment by Hydra. Her soulmate was Adriana Donati, dead at the age of twenty one, sniped while she was assisting refuge efforts in northern Italy after an earthquake.

She smirks your way, taking out a picture from your backpack and pretending to study it. You can only stare at her with wide eyes.

There’s a heavy weight in your stomach as you stare back at the face of the girl you killed without hesitation.

“Why did you drive me to him? Karpov didn’t plan on either of us killing each other, he said it himself.”

“I’m not here to be your enemy, I’m here to offer you an out.”

“You know the kind of information I’ve got. If I have the names of the highest ranking officers, you know I know every dirty trick in the book that can ruin your sister’s and the Soldat’s lives. I want something simple and easy. My silence, in exchange for your abilities.”

“It is better if you just come home, and we both know it. I’m not calling yet, but I want you to know I have the advantage, always will.”

Understanding falls on you with the rush and electricity of a free fall from the tallest height, the vertigo rushing through you and forcing a gasp out of your throat.

“You were stalling. All this time, you were buying time,” You shrug off the pull of sleep and exhaustion, standing up from your position on the floor and walking towards her file. “Why?”

Kseniya’s heartbeat rhythm stares back at you, and a conversation with Bucky you two had while somewhere in northern Romania is brought to the front of your mind.

“Karpov didn’t want you to remember me. If my sister hadn’t changed my name, he would’ve killed me.” You start, eyes on one of the specks of cinnamon floating in your swirling coffee cup.

“Why wouldn’t he stop my heart and re-start it?” Bucky finishes for you, to which you only answer with a shrug. It still scares you a bit how easy it is for him to talk about things like these, to speak of himself as nothing more than a target, a weapon.

That is the way Hydra sees him, it frightens you how disconnected from himself he is sometimes.

“I mean, it would be the smart thing to do. Memories erased, name gone…the whole package.”

“But Hydra wasn’t the one to come up with the name erasure technique.” He argues softly, finally sitting next to you on the couch and lifting your sock-cladded legs to rest in his lap, both metal and flesh arms resting gently over your calves.

“They didn’t come up with many things they used during the years. What’s your point?”

“I don’t know. Natalia knew of the procedure by luck, and even though they planned on doing it to the Black Widows, it never pulled through.”

“But why?”

“Maybe they know more of heartbeats that we do.” This time it is his turn to shrug, prompting you to put up a fake affronted look on your face as you turn to him.

“I earned a living from heartbeats, for almost fifty years. I’m insulted, dear.”

A small smile teases at the corners of his lips, the first unburdened smile you have seen on him since you pulled the trigger on that damned facility.

“They use our beats. Not the names. The rhythm.” You pondered out loud, hands quickly reaching for the intel on Project Cataclysm.

That’s why Hydra didn’t go through with their erasure of the girl’s heartbeats on the Red Room. That’s why so many kids died on the facility you were held on, even though the serum was easily survivable.

That’s why Kseniya killed her soulmate.

That’s why Karpov is so adamant in keeping you here, even if you cost him his men, his resources. Because they found a way to control the heartbeats.

Because there was more than the enhancement of abilities in Project Cataclysm.

Your heartrate spikes, as if your body knows the rhythm you thought a curse for so long is really so much more than that. And it wants you to listen. As your heartbeat fills your ears, resounding within your head in that nameless song, you realize something.

The picture of Kseniya still trapped within your hand, your eyes filling with tears at the realization.

That’s why you didn’t give away my heartbeat rhythm until the end. That’s why you said we would be soulmates if I killed you.

Because I would take your place. Not only your name, but your spot under the Colonel’s control.

The way Karpov always pushed you to use your powers when you were in the brink of overpowering him. The combat training without your powers he forced you to try.

The fight in the mining facility. The way your powers told you something, but he did something completely different.

“Oh, God. How much of it was real?” You whisper, trembling hand covering your mouth as the papers fall from your hands, sliding to the floor and joining countless others.

A sound coming from your -monitored- computer brings you out of your own head and, rubbing shaking fingers over your eyes to get rid of the dampness in them, you stumble to the monitor.

You are pressing the intercom button before you can think about it too much.

“Girl, I hope you have good news.”

“I found Rumlow, Colonel.” You sing back, a small smile taking over your face.

___

When the Doctor walks into the room, you are expecting her, holding to vials of liquid in one hand and the handgun in the other.

“Miss Romanova.” She greets, not even phased at the gun aimed at her head.

There’s a special kind of fear running through your veins right now. Like the fear you had the first time you left the Union when you found Natalia, like the first time you settled and made a home after your adoptive parents were killed, like the first time you looked into Bucky’s eyes. Like the first time you kissed him, like the first time you made love, like the first time you dared speak of a future so darn perfect it seemed impossible.

A special kind of fear, the kind of fear that makes you weaker, yes, but somehow more stubborn, more resilient. Maybe even braver enough to do what is needed.

“I’m gonna go on a limb and say you are not going to agree with me.”

“I might. What are you offering, Miss?” The woman replies, sitting calmly at her desk.

And suddenly you are in front of a lowlife in some unknown street of Austria, his valiant face asking something in return of his intel. And the words about the name on her heartbeat are at the tip of your tongue, but this time you do not let them out.

“What do you want, Doctor?”

“To disappear.”

You lean back, crossing your arms over your chest, but keeping your grip on the gun tight and secure.

“You will have to be more specific.”

“I read your file, Y/N. You evaded the Winter Soldier, the whole of Hydra, and even greater enemies I may not know of,” She states knowingly, hands carefully placed in the desk. But you notice the slight nervous twitching of her fingers as they are intertwined with one another. “You are good, of not the best.”

“Thank you for the compliment. Now, I would appreciate it if you made your point.”

“I made it. You went off the radar. Every radar there was. You can do so again, this time for me.”

A small laugh leaves your lips. Mocking, practiced, prodding. “You want your heartbeat off the charts.”

She nods,

“I want my life, my work, to vanish. As if it never existed.”

“Your name is in someone’s heart, though. My…disappearance was aided by the fact that no one knew my real name.”

“The heart with my name on it was stopped, a long time ago,” Before you can even ask the first question that runs through your head, the woman snaps, “No, it was never restarted.”

“Hydra?” You ask, eyes narrowed.

“The criminals I joined Hydra to kill.”

“So romantic.” You tease, cold smile still in place although the closeness to grasp your freedom, this time once and for all, makes your insides tremble.

“I read your file, Y/N,” She repeats, turning her back to you and paying attention to a heart monitor near her, and taking out some equipment and sterilizing it as she looks at you over the rim of her glasses, “Don’t pretend you didn’t dance with the Devil for your love’s soul.”

“I danced. I didn’t lay with the Devil, Doctor.” You spit back, the silent oath understood between you and the woman. I am not Hydra, so don’t equal me to you.

“Different circumstances, different results. Same intent.” The woman shrugs, making blood boil under your skin.

It is with a sigh of concession that you remain silent for a few seconds, before clicking the safety of your gun once again, rendering the gun as harmless as it can be in the hands of a woman with the lastname Romanova.

“I want your heartbeat, Doc. Your name and history would make a nice addition.”

She motions for you to hop onto the table, after musing your response and finally nodding in agreement. You are taken aback by her disposition, and suddenly you are a girl again, standing in front of a scary Doctor in a Hydra facility, not sure of what they plan on doing to you.

“Miss, please take a seat.” The man orders without even turning his head to look at you.

“Did you kill my parents?” You ask, although you know the answer. At this point, you think asking questions and reminding yourself of the life outside these horrible, dark, and damp halls is what will keep you sane.

Keep you remembering.

“We did what we had to, Miss.”

“Is my sister alright? Are you taking me to her?”

“I’m afraid not.” The doctor retorts, tone bored and unchanging as he clearly focuses his attention on the papers in front of him. The ones with your vitals on them, probably.

“The Winter Soldier, then?”

That gets him to turn around.

Harsh brown eyes study you for what feels like an eternity, and the small, stupid silver of hope within you that this was going to be over in any way soon is stumped down when the Doctor takes a few steps towards you, studying you.

“What do you know, girl?”

You remind yourself of what happened when you let others see what you feel, what you know. You remind yourself of the Colonel’s mocking laugh, of the dead soldiers at your feet, of your mother’s screams as she sees her adopted child being dragged away.

You remind yourself who you are playing with.

You remind yourself Hydra, the monster with no face, the legend of death and torture; they do not stand for threats.

Your sister, your soulmate, were proof enough that with people like these it is that survivors are broken.

So you shrug, “I heard some of the kids talking about it.”

He nods, lowering his gaze to the board in his hands. After reading in silence for a few seconds, he motions for you to sit on a scary looking chair with too much resemblance to one that has haunted your memories of nightmares not your own for too long now.

“What is that?” You ask, and the man tsks his tongue, clearly running out of patience.

“I have to get you healthy. Sit, and I will give you some fluids.”

“Why should I?” You retort, but he only sighs in response.

“You’ll find pain soon, girl. Make it easier for yourself and don’t make it start now.”

“Now?” You ask, stupidly. The woman sneers your way, the creases around her eyes deepening with the movement.

“I’m sorry. Do you have a date you don’t want to miss?”

Ignoring her, and, frankly, ignoring your own stupid question; you walk on unusually shaky legs to the table.

“Karpov will not be notified of the change.”

“Of course not.”

“The traces of the new rhythm will be destroyed, Doc,” She hesitates for a moment, clearly not expecting that demand, and a part of you rests assured that as far as you know only Karpov is aware and in power of controlling people, Cataclysm’s survivors, through their heartbeats. So, it is easier for you to add the forced lightheartedness in your tone, “And you better bring me back.”

“Don’t fret, girl. I’m not stupid enough to try to kill you. Like I said, I read your file.”

The brace-like clasp is set around your left arm, and the woman readies both the poison and the mix of adrenaline and epinephrine to bring back to life the heart the poison is set to stop.

You watch avidly the process, the way she reaches to settle a clasp around your chest. You hold her wrist tightly in your hand, and her eyes meet yours.

“You will convulse when the heart stops. I can’t have you moving.” She explains, forcing you to let go of her and fastening the clasp around your chest. You take a few deep breaths, trying to keep yourself from panicking when she reaches for your other arm, strapping you to the table and leaving you unable to move.

The Doctor asks if you are ready, an unlikely and surprising gentleness in her tone as she settles near you, ready to start the process.

“I’m ready.” You whisper, more to yourself than her. Panic claws is way through you, whispering in your ear about how she cannot be trusted, about how there’s so many things that could be wrong, about how maybe your heartbeat will stay the same after what your sister did fifty or so years ago.

But you try ignoring it.

“Okay, stopping your heart in three…”

You close your eyes and think of your sister, easy smile and a mischievous glint in her eye as she links her arm with yours, a slight bump of her hip to yours as you walk together.

“Two…”

You clench your hands into fists and think of Bucky, gentle heart and this awed and loving depth to his gaze as his arms wrap around you, his warmth spreading to you and his heart seeming to beat in sync with yours when you press your chest against his as you lean up to share a kiss.

“One.”

You feel the initial shock, the shattering feeling of your body, your whole being, shriveling up to nothing as something else takes control over it, and your mouth falls open in a scream that never leaves your lips, your skin breaks as the animal part of you tries to fight the bonds, tries to be set free to fight an even battle against the infinite and invisible curse of death.

You bite past the pain, and let yourself think of the futures you let yourselves wonder, dream, picture, in these last few months since coming back to your sister and, unknowingly, to your soulmate.

Somewhere in the States, Natalia finds a group of peace fighters and convinces you to join them on their van as they travel the country.

You cannot help but notice the way your sister’s gaze lingers on the eldest couple, Elsa and Jeremy, around their mid thirties and seven months along their first pregnancy. Natalia’s green eyes seem to be glued to the embraced couple, her lips curved in an unconscious, sad, smile as she watches Elsa run her hands over her swollen stomach.

“Think you’ll ever have that, Solnyshka?” Your sister whispers, resting her head on your shoulder as she continues to watch the scene unfold.

“Maybe,” You concede, even though you cannot imagine bringing a child to this world of chaos and death, of running and jumping at shadows. But, the image is there, the golden future with the white picket fence teases you form the distance. “What about you, Nat?”

Her smile turns bitter, and she swallows tightly before answering, “I can’t.”

“You can still be a mother, Natalia. They didn’t take that from you.”

“I’m not talking about the…the sterilization. I am not…soft, I wouldn’t-…I can’t have this.” She mutters, her silver tongue tangled in the pain and anger of a past life never hers.

You reach for her hand, squeezing softly before resting your head over her own where it still lays on your shoulder.

“Well, you better be there for the little me’s running around. They are going to need their Auntie Nat to spoil them rotten.”

She laughs, a broken but hopeful sound leaving her smiling lips. Her eyes remain in the couple, though. There’s a few moments of silence, where you reach up to not-so-subtly comb through the messy red bangs in her forehead.

“If you name the first girl after me.”

“Which of the hundreds of names, sestra?” You tease back, chuckling when she pinches your arm lightly in retaliation.

A pained sound leaves your throat, leaving behind a trail of fire and gravel. But you clench your hands into fists and focus on anything that isn’t the way your lungs aren’t filling with air anymore.

“Remember the first night you spent at the compound?” Bucky whispers, eyes closed even though his fingers trail over the bare skin of your arms and back as if trying to memorize the pattern, as if trying to commit your body to memory.

“The time I yelled at you, ran off, and then had a ‘stern Steve’ glare thrown at me?”

He laughs lightly, a silver of his bright eyes peeking through his hooded lids.

“You never told me about that.”

“About how your bestfriend is a big momma bear when it comes to you?” You tease with a smile, “Honey, I think you should be aware of that already.

A breath, and then, as the hand that is not under your head traces over his profile; you add,

“’Sides, I deserved it.”

“You had every right to react how you did. Hell, I’m still amazed you don’t hate my guts, doll.”

There’s a rue smile on your lips when you answer,

“I don’t think I ever did, honestly. I hated not remembering, I hated that…that I couldn’t recognize my past self because…” You fail to put your thoughts into words, so you sigh and try explaining it from the beginning, “The Ghost Hydra’s inner circle boasted about controlling, the one I learned and read about, he…he couldn’t be my soulmate,” There’s a very subtle wince Bucky makes at your words, only noticeable because of how close you are to him. You reach to turn his gaze back to yours before the doubt and guilt can even try to settle on his eyes; gentle fingers on his cheek as your eyes ask him to listen to you. “I couldn’t bear a world, a version of myself, where I didn’t give everything to keep you from that pain, a version of me that failed to keep the people I love safe.

You try to keep the pain out of your voice, the creeping feeling of having failed him from taking over your heart and your voice.

“I couldn’t-…I think refusing the idea that we were soulmates helped me deal with the idea that I wasn’t…enough.”

Bucky intervenes quickly at your words, sitting up slightly and frowning your way.

“Not enough?” He repeats. Shaking his head, he looks into your eyes as he says, “Angel, you kept me…as sane as I could be. You gave me hope, babygirl. Way before I even met you.” The earnestness in his tone, the way his grey-blue eyes search yours and try to make you understand put a small, teary smile on your face.

But you still shake your head as you sit up too to be able to face him. Your eyes follow your fingers as they trace the scars over his shoulder, right where skin meets metal, where the boy that fell from the train met Hydra’s Ghost.

“I should have done more.” You insist softly.

“Y/N, listen to me,” He whispers, warm flesh and the somehow soft metal framing your face as he takes it in his hands. “I am not lying when I say you kept me alive, doll. You did all you could, and the fact that I can see you right in front of me and hold you right now is more than I ever thought I would have, even before Hydra,” He smiles softly as he rests his forehead on yours, his eyes falling closed, “You are my soulmate, Y/N.”

There’s a softness in his tone when he says it, like a secret between you two, like a treasure to be kept. A smile forms on your lips as you close your eyes as well.

“Wish I could have been there, though.”

“You were,” He insists, “Knowing that I had you, somewhere, somehow? It gave me peace, even when I was…trapped in there. Hearing you, feeling you on the other side of the bond when I thought I was going to give up gave me a reason to stay,” He states simple, not a shade of uncertainty in his voice, making your throat close and a pitiful sniffle break the silence between his words. “And…if having now you means having to survive all that? I’d take the deal a thousand times.”

You open your eyes, and you hear it, beating wildly on the machines, as if singing its own anthem of victory.

Your heartbeat. The new name it spells.

-... ..- -.-. -.- -.-- / -... .- .-. -. . ...

Bucky Barnes.

____

You bide your time, you let your body rest and heal from its second dance with death. You plan, with observing eyes and burning rage building under your skin.

On the morning Karpov sends his best men after Rumlow, you move.

Stationed in Siberia ever since your failed attempt at staging your own rescue in the mining facility, you know every nook and cranny of this god-forsaken place.

Which works in your favor when you corner Karpov in his office, a gun in your hand and once again the barrel of it pressing against his forehead.

Only this time, you don’t hesitate.

You don’t shoot, he doesn’t deserve the embrace of death yet, but you don’t hesitate either.

The last of his guards falls to the ground with a sickening sound, but you don’t give yourself time to ponder on it, already reloading the handgun and strapping it back to your thigh. Taking the semi-automatic from your back and aiming carefully as you stroll into the room, you try calming your erratically beating heart.

“Karpov!” Your voice echoes loudly in the room. “You better come out, you son of a bitch.”

No answer.

Reaching a simple desk, you let the rifle rest in your bicep, holding it with one hand as the other takes one of the files from his desk.

Y/N Romanova.

You let it fall with an angry sigh, eyes lifting to scan over the room.

“Karpov?” You try again, and at the deafening silence of your own voice echoing back at you, you close your eyes for a second. Taking a deep breath, you whisper, ignoring how your voice trembles at the name you haven’t dared pronounce in so long, “James?”

The answer is an arm firmly wrapping around your neck, trying to pull you back.

The Colonel’s hot breath traces your skin, making bile rise in your throat.

“I’m afraid he is unavailable at the moment, girl.”

The rifle in your hand is quickly discarded as you reach for the knife strapped to your thigh. Slicing swiftly over the man’s arm and ribs, you put distance between you, turning around and looking for the first time in your life into the eyes of the monster that gives a face to the horror that is Hydra for you.

There’s an edge in the Colonel’s anger, a madness lurking behind his gaze. It is enough to freeze you on the spot, sealing your voice behind tightly closed lips.

“You are the girl that took my family from me.” He states, disbelief clouding his words.

“You are the man that took everything from me!” You yell back, voice catching in anger and years old pain. The man smiles your way in response, lines around his eyes deepening, forcing you to suppress a shiver.

“Are you here to take revenge, little one?”

“I’m here to get James out.”

“You are not,” Karpov answers, smile still in place and a small shrug accompanying his words. Taken aback, you open your mouth to ask what he means, when the older man shakes his head your way, as if proving to himself -or you- how naive, how unknowing, you are. “You will fail.”

“I will not.”

“Trust me, I know you will. My family, the men and women you found on your way here; they should be dead, or worse,” He explains, walking slowly towards you even as you take out your handgun and point it at his head. “You are not fierce enough.”

A snarl twists your lips upwards as you stalk towards him, anger boiling under your skin and making your hands tremble as you press the end of the barrel on the man’s forehead.

“Where is he!?”

The smile turns predatory, haunting the part of you that still hopes for a way for this to work out, “Nowhere to be found.”

“I will kill you, I swear I’ll-” You start, despite the way your hand trembles, despite the way the Colonel looks at you like he has already won. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks, but you clench your jaw and take the safety off.

Still, the words die in your throat, the threat falls flat as it shows you are nothing but a girl, scared and pushed to the limit. The tears fall and you are nothing but a failed experiment, a broken doll that cursed the man with her name on his heart, because she would never be as strong as he needed her to be, because she would never be enough to push back the demons reaching for his soul.

“You should have killed them. You should kill me. But you won’t.”

Twin streaks of tears stain your face, eyes shining but voice sure and rageful as you spit back, “I won’t become a monster to win!”

“You need to be one just to be able to fight back against Hydra, girl.”

But you proved him wrong. Now your soul is still yours and so is justice.

The alarm ringing through the facility shakes you out of your memories, bringing your focus back to the escape, however easy it may be now that the head of the snake if gone.

Not cut, only two more would grow back. You made sure to burn it off this time. Let the ghosts try to make venom out of ashes. They will only fail.

You can almost feel the sting of Siberia’s cold on your skin as you sprint towards the exit. Before you actually leave though, your eyes fall to the surveillance cameras, and you see four of Karpov’s elite guards run into the room you are running through.

A curse leaves your lips in Russian, quiet as your steps as you press your back to the nearest wall, and ready your knives.

You haven’t established a link strong enough to the new beat of your heart to be able to use your powers to their fullest extent. Or trust them, for that matter. If there’s anything Karpov taught you in these few months, is that you are much more than your powers, than what they tried to make out of you.

So, you close your eyes, take a deep breath, and move in as they are about to turn the corner.

Karpov is down. So is Kseniya. All by my hand. I can do this.

You manage to land a few shallow cuts in the first man’s torso and arm before another guard grabs you from behind, forcing you into a headlock and cutting off your air.

“I don’t see how I will need this experience. Soulmate trackers usually don’t go around handing CV’s, Buck.” You grumble from the floor, covering your face with your arm as you feel the soreness of training spread through your body.

“Call it…covering the bases, preparing for the worst.” He says, prompting you to lift yourself up; and you do so, but not without complaining wordlessly but loudly as you do.

“I would rather call you paranoid, but I’m gonna go with it,” Smiling his way to soften the blow, you ready your stance again. Before Bucky moves to attack you, you call out, “And I can hear you, Steven.”

A soft chuckle is all the response you get from the blond supersoldier, and your smile is quickly wiped off as you focus back on the training exercise.

You are able to counter Bucky’s attacks, and even though you know he is holding back the strength of his prosthetic you avoid and dodge almost every hit. Still, you are painfully aware how pushed you are, constantly in defense and unable to land any hit.

With an angry growl, you move for a punch right after blocking a hit with your forearm. Bucky grabs your hand, however, fast reflexes stopping your hit.

“Too slow, doll.” He teases, smirk on his face.

“Against a supersoldier? Well, duh.”

“Be smarter, then.”

Before you can answer, you feel Steve’s forearm around your throat, Bucky still holding your hand and rendering you immobile.

Well, almost.

Using Steve’s grip as a lever, you pull yourself up, landing your bare feet on Bucky’s chest and pushing him back, turning your smaller body over Steve’s head and shoulders, breaking free of his grasp.

“Shit,” You gasp, landing on shaky legs on the floor. A stunned Steve gives you an arm to stand straighter, and you smile proudly at the soldiers, “Smarter it is, then.”

“I’m impressed.” Steve smiles your way, and you shake your head in response.

“You shouldn’t be. I pissed of Hydra, more times than I remember; I had to be able to beat their best.

You shrug, leaning back into Bucky’s chest when he wraps his arm around you gently, pressing a kiss against your hair with a sigh.

You have the not so sneaking suspicion that there was more than a way to spend time behind Bucky’s intentions to train you to fight against a supersoldier, but you choose to ignore them for the time being, aware only time will make the -however unstable- peace he has found something he trusts to remain.

Pressing a kiss to Bucky’s jaw, you add, “’Sides, it doesn’t hurt that you taught my totally-not-overprotective sister how to beat you.”

You shake off the guard, falling behind him and destabilizing him after using is own strength against him. You try not dwelling on how easy it is when you plunge your knives deep into his chest from your place at his back.

The man falls quickly to the ground, and for a second too long the remaining soldiers look at you in something akin to fear.

“Aim to kill.” The leader growls, before two assault rifles are pointed your way, and he launches himself your way.

You make quick work of him, though, as his trigger-happy subordinates try shooting at you the moment you get the upper hand, allowing you to move his frame to cover you and have his men kill him.

You use his handgun to take the other two down, following his order and aiming to kill. Taking a moment to breathe, you take cover behind a pillar and count your bullets.

But there’s a new, coordinated sets of steps approaching the room again. Trying to keep them from hearing you, you hold your breath and stay still, and seconds tick by in silence as you wait for them to move on.

But you hear their breathing change, the rustling of combat clothing as they signal to one another. They heard you.

You move in ahead despite the fear of being overpowered after all that has happened, knives aiming for the chest and neck, but your right arm is forced back, and the clicking of a gun’s safety makes your heart beat painfully fast in your chest.

Refusing to admit defeat so close to…to whatever is expecting you out in the world; you let go of the knife in your right hand, the magnets pulling it to the one on your left and making a double-bladed dagger. Turning your wrist and, although painfully, freeing yourself from their grasp; you grab a hold of the metal wrist and force them forward, their throat at the end of your knife.

The action stops as soon as the blade teases the thin skin of their neck, the one holding the gun…

Is that metal you feel under your fingers?

Your gaze finds for the first time the face of the attacker. For a few seconds, a few empty and achingly hopeful seconds, you cannot find it in yourself to react.

Broken grey eyes search yours, and it is only then you realize your knife is still at Bucky’s throat, your gaze dead and your stance that of a soldier.

Your name is a breath on his lips, the same name that branded you both, that cursed you both. But it has never sounded so much like salvation.

“Bucky.” A smile trembles in your lips as you look at him, and before you can think twice about it, the knife falls from your hand, the now free hand reaching up to his cheek.

Buck flinches away from your touch, eyes now frantic, scared, as they take you in. You repeat his name, a question now, a disbelieving plea.

Someone speaks up, someone that sounds like Steve, and you turn your eyes to the blond supersoldier when he intercepts you. The way he too stares at you like he has seen a ghost makes realization set on your stomach with the weight of a stone.

I stopped my own heart. Just like the first time.

Bucky’s words about how it felt to lose you the first time, whispered in the darkness that surrounded you in that peaceful cabin in Brasov, in what seems like a lifetime ago are brought forth in your mind, the guilt and pain mixing within you and forcing tears to rise in your eyes.

“I had to do it.” You whimper, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence as your eyes take in the man you love. The man that faced Hydra and didn’t back down, stares back at you with a fear unlike any other shining in his grey eyes; the hopeful soldier you said goodbye to in Vienna holds a new darkness to him.

The most resilient man you have ever met, the one with the quiet strength, with the stubborn push for survival…he looks completely and utterly broken.

Your focus is forced away from him, though, when your sister breaks the spell of disbelief that settled over the three soldiers when they saw you on your feet in front of them.

“Solnyshka.” Natalia breathes right by you, before you are wrapped up in her arms, her characteristic scent of the waxy smell of lipstick and coppery smell of gunpowder reaching your senses and prompting your whole body to relax, as if some primitive part of you is now safe because your big sister, your protector, your right hand, is with you again.

Her slender frame trembles in your arms, prompting tears to trail down your cheeks as your eyes fall closed.

You know what to do, how to comfort her. You know exactly how she feels, because you went through the same thing almost fifty years ago, and the memory of that pain still keeps you up at night. The delight, the gratefulness that your sister was alive and in front of you, the crushing pain of thinking of what you could have done to have her in your arms sooner, to save her from the pain.

So you just hug her tighter, run a hand through her short hair, and whisper the nonsense you wanted to hear when you got her back form her presumed death, because you remember with painful clarity how the raspy cadence of her voice managed to make it real, managed to make it permanent.

“Hey, I’m here, it’s-…it’s over, Nat,” You soothe, swallowing past the knot in your throat. “I’m here, I’m okay.

You look over her shoulder at your soulmate, taking in the way his eyes show a heartbreaking mix of anguish and awe. So not unlike the same way he looked at you when you met in Washington, disbelief tainting the first words the Ghost had uttered, resilient hope shaping the letters of your name as it left his lips.

You do not know who you are talking to when you add in a whisper,

“It’s finally over. We can go home.”

Okay, I kinda can’t believe this story is almost over. This doesn’t feel like the end at all though, idk why. But I am...happy? Yeah, I am, I want to take on a few more projects that I have planned out, write Royals, start doing more oneshots and stuff. And I loved writing this so much and I thank you all so much for your support and for reading my story!

I hope you liked this chapter, please come talk to me! Love ya!

Also, the second chapter of Bucky’s version of events takes place almost directly after the end of this one, so it kinda works as an epilogue. But, if you guys want, I think I can work out an epilogue, there’s a few scenes that never made the final cut too, so...just lemme know, I’m at your disposal here hehe

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes soulmate au

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 6

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Collateral Damage”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 4,786

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, Angry!Eva, violence, Angry!Loki

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

A/N: I want to take a moment to apologize for my absence. I’ve had some health problems recently, and within the last couple of weeks, I’ve lost entire days thanks to said problems. I’m finally feeling well enough again to post, but during my time being sick, I’ve managed to come up with quite a bit of content. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying what I’m writing. Even if not every chapter is you cup of tea, it means a lot to see that people are leaving likes, messaging me, reblogging, etc.! Please note that I have taken and will be taking a lot of creative liberties pertaining to these characters. This will be shown in excess during the upcoming chapters, so I just wanted to give a bit of a warning. There are some timeline changes, character changes, etc. Once again, thank you so much for reading. I love you all <3

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

“Looks like you lost,” I dictated as I dragged him down the stairs to the dungeons. My entire body felt like it was on fire, but it didn’t stop the shiver from running down my spine at the thought of what he was capable of. Ezra showed us something none of us could’ve expected. He was skilled in ways that we were unprepared for, ways I didn’t even know could exist. I still trembled at the thought of my slain comrades-members of Odin’s kingsguard-rising and fighting against us. The more people of ours Ezra killed, the more people he had fighting for him. The battle was unfair and horrific, but we still won even after members of the kingsguard forced Odin away from the situation. Ezra had surrendered after we had gotten him onto his knees. My sword had been pressed against his throat, and all I needed to do was give it one swift motion to kill him. I couldn’t, though.

There was something that kept me from killing him, but I had no idea what it was. Maybe it was the familiarity in those green eyes or the endless knowledge he seemed to have about me. Still, my decision to keep him alive could be useful in the future of Asgard. He was another enemy who would be a prisoner in the dungeons, a man we could retrieve information from. He snickered at me, “you may have won, but what did it cost you?” he asked, glancing down at the wound on my abdomen.

I ignored his comment, feeling the pain radiating from the wound. During the battle, he had taken a swing at Ephinea, a blow I did my best to protect her from. I had pushed her back and tried to put as much distance between him and I as possible, but it wasn’t enough. My sword blocked his axe, and while I struggled to disarm him, I was unaware of the dagger he pulled out until he buried it in my abdomen. The dagger cut right through my training armor-which had not been suitable for battle-and pierced into my flesh. I had not yet seen it, but a piece of me was convinced it was nothing while the rational part of myself was sure it was something much more than I was prepared to deal with. If I could still walk, I was fine.

Behind Ezra and I were the remaining members of the kingsguard who did not sustain significant injuries as well along with Ephinea, Sif, and the warriors three. Thor had taken to the throne room with his father to discuss what would come next. Everyone in the dungeons was silent when they saw the crowd of warriors that it took to secure the newest prisoner. They watched us in a stunned silence, including Loki. I avoided all eye contact with the God of Mischief, still hurt by his actions an entire week ago. While I wished for an empty cell anywhere else in the dungeons, the only free one was directly across from Loki’s, which would undoubtedly cause me to worry much more than I should have. The cells were practically impenetrable, and even if Ezra managed to break free of his cell, there would be no real reason for him to go after Loki.

As we stood in front of his cell, he turned to face me as I spoke, “this is gonna be your new home. I don’t know where you came from or what you knew before this, but you won’t be going back there anytime soon. You said you haven’t seen a sunrise for more than 300 years?” I asked, and he nodded his head, a grin forming on his lips in anticipation for what I was about to say, “well, be prepared to wait another 300 because you aren’t getting out of here for a long time,” I growled, glaring up at him and his apathetic expression. It was as if he had no remorse at all for the lives he had taken, like the entire battle before this meant nothing to him. His reaction was sickening.

He cocked one of his thick eyebrows, “you have a fire within you that you try to ignore, pet, but you can’t hide it from me,” he replied before lunging forward and attacking my lips with his. It shocked me at first, but I leaned into it after a moment, realizing that I could use it to my advantage. Everyone around us who was there to ensure his safe transportation to his cell was left in shock, but they always knew that I had a plan. My lips molded together with his thick ones, and while I was disgusted to be kissing the man who just killed so many of my people, I knew that this was going to work out in my favor. While Ezra was distracted by the kiss, I eased one of my daggers from its sheath at my side and reached behind him before sinking it into his lower back.

He sucked in a sharp breath, disconnecting our lips. His face distorted in pain, and his chest rumbled as I pulled the dagger from his body, twisting it in the process. Once it was out, I dropped it on the ground behind him and reached into the small pouch on my belt to pull out one of the tracking devices I always carried with me. In one swift motion, I shoved two of my fingers into the wound to deposit the tracking device as deeply as possible. He grunted and twisted to break free of my grasp, but I would not release him. I released the tracking device once I was sure it was embedded deep enough that he could not feel it and dig it out on his own. When I finally removed my fingers, I rested my hand against his wound and focused all of my energy on transferring it over to myself. That was the one downfall of my healing power. I was unable to heal someone without transferring their wounds onto myself. While he was not worthy of my help, I couldn’t leave the wound open for fear that he would just pull the device out. Now, it he wanted to take it out, he would have to cut himself open and dig for it.

As the wound transferred to myself, I gritted my teeth, but nothing could compare to the wound on my abdomen. It was like if one had been stabbed by Surtur himself, a scraped knee could never compare to it, so the pain was far more tolerable. Once I finished healing his wound, I glared up at him, “you’re going to have a lot of time to think while you’re down here, and that’s all you get to do. If you move, I’ll know about it. If you speak, I’ll know about it. If you have any thoughts about breaking out of your cell, I will know about it. I didn’t kill you today because I believe in second chances. If you fail to cooperate or if you become a threat to anyone I know or love, I will not hesitate to kill you,” I growled at him.

He nodded his head, “my execution would be against the Allfather’s wishes. It’s a beautiful sentiment-it truly is-but...tell me, pet, how will you protect the two people you love most when one is here and one is on Midgard?” he asked, referencing her once more.

My eyes widened, and he smirked at the look of dread that was clear on my face. I saw my reflection in his eyes and saw a girl who had everything to lose, someone who had lost so much already. As my protective instincts kicked in, I grew furious that he even put their safety in question. I pulled my fist back and landed a hard punch against his cheek. When his head snapped to the side to accommodate the blow, I swiped his feet out from under him to bring him down to the ground. As he caught himself on his knees, I pulled out my other dagger and pressed it against his throat with one hand while I grabbed a fistful of his hair with the other. I squatted down to be at his level, “say it again,” I growled.

He smirked, “and what if I did? What if I threatened them again?” he asked, challenging me, “would you kill me, an unarmed man on his knees? Would you take my life the same way your enemies took your friends life on Vanaheim? You and I both know that you don’t have what it takes,” he hissed, bringing up Hjalmar. My chest tightened, “the only way to save the ones you love so dearly is to accept your destiny, to accept what you’re truly meant to be.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “and what is that?”

“A god,” he answered with a smile as he leaned into my blade against his throat, “just like me.”

I shook my head, my entire body trembling as anger and rage built up in my chest, “I am nothing like you,” I growled, furious that he would even try to compare the two of us. He fought and killed so many of my people and raised them back to be monsters. What was it for? I only fought when it needed to be done. I didn’t seek out confrontation. I fought, and even killed, the few who put the lives of the many at stake, and it always sat with me. The eyes of my victims never left my mind, for I was aware that I had taken someone’s loved one away from them. Ezra showed in the short time I knew him that he was nothing like that. He killed without remorse, and I saw no conflict in his eyes once it was over. We were nothing alike.

He chuckled, “that’s where you’re wrong, pet. You and I are more alike than you know, and that’s how I know, without the shadow of a doubt, that you’ll lose both of them in time,” he said, and my heart felt like it would fall through the floor. How did he know all of my deepest and darkest fears? That was always the one thing that scared me the most: losing the ones I loved. Of course, it was the fear of so many people, but he was able to pull up the two people I cared for more than anything else and use their safety against me, “it’s in your nature. You’ll always lose,” he added.

My chest rose and fell as I struggled to find air. It felt like his threats were taking the air from my lungs, and I felt like I would suffocate. I saw how big a threat he was, but we managed to bring him down together. I didn’t want to imagine what Cul’s entire army could do. Everything had been thrown at us so quickly, as we had no knowledge of who Cul was or that Odin even had an older brother at all. Everything that happened that day just made me feel uncertain of everything. Still, I couldn’t show Ezra that, “and what about you? You’re the man who kneels before me with my dagger against his throat. You lost,” I hissed.

“You’ll need me soon enough,” he remarked, gesturing down to the stab wound on my abdomen that throbbed with a pain I never experienced before. The wound hurt badly enough that it felt like I would be sick from the pain. I had been stabbed before, and the wounds never felt quite like that. Perhaps, it had just been too long, and I forgot the sensation. I shook the thoughts from my mind and focused on him once more as he continued, “and the moment you come to me, begging for my help, is the moment when you’ll finally realize that you are the one who has lost,” he sneered, his eyes cutting right through me. It was like he could see every weakness and insecurity I had.

“If you or anyone else tries hurt the people I care for, you won’t be able to find shelter from the storm I unleash. You don’t want to make me an enemy,” I threatened him.

He shook his head as if he was disappointed in me, and I furrowed my eyebrows. When his eyes finally met mine once more, he snickered to himself, “you speak like a warrior, but there is no true weight in your words. I know-as well as you do-that you would never pose a threat to the one thing you believe in more than anything else: Life. That’s why I know you won’t kill me. I’m not afraid of you,” he stated, nonchalantly as he leaned into the blade, hard enough to draw blood.

I stood up, sheathing my dagger, before pulling him up onto his feet. He stood much taller than me, but I didn’t feel small in that moment. Even though I was insecure about what would come next, I couldn’t show my fears to the man who was threatening the lives of the people I loved. I needed to be strong, or he would take advantage of my weaknesses. I grabbed a fistfull of his hair and pulled his head down to mine, maintaining eye contact the entire time, “you aren’t afraid of me,” I hissed before leaning in to his ear, “but you should be,” I whispered the line I had been told only once before. It had shaken me to the very core when it was said to me, but I felt powerful now that I was on the other end. My voice was low enough so that only he could hear me, and once I finished, I pulled away from him and shoved him into his cell. Ephinea activated the cell wall before he was even able to regain his balance. I couldn’t help the smile as I watched him struggle to not fall onto his face, but the sharp pain in my abdomen cut that short.

Not wanting to waste anymore time on him, I turned to face the members of the Kingsguard. They were some of the most well-trained warriors Asgard had to offer, so much so that they were trusted with protecting the Allfather himself. The kingsguard lined the halls of the palace at all times of the day and night, and they stood guard over the dungeons as well. I picked up my blood-covered dagger that I had dropped on the floor moments prior and lowered it back into its sheath. I pointed over at Ezra but stayed focused on the warriors before me, “I want two guards posted outside his cell every second of every day. I never want him left unsupervised, and if he is, you’re going to wish that you experienced the Allfather’s wrath instead of mine,” I threatened, feeling my unchecked fury rising further and further in my chest. I surprised myself at the harsh tone of my voice, but I didn’t change it, “if he shows any signs of agitation, I want to know about it. If he takes one step out of line, I want to know about it. If he breathes offbeat, I want to know about it. I want every detail of his existence to be monitored while he’s down here. I want nothing to go unnoticed. If he speaks out of line, I want to know what he said and when he said it. Do you understand?”

I saw the startled expression on every face of the men before me. I had always been known for my calm and collected nature, and the only time I ever broke away from that was when I was in battle. Even then, I had never been so ruthless, especially never with them. They all nodded in agreement to my orders, but one of the guards stepped forward, his eyes just as confused as the rest, “I mean you no offense when I ask this, but...what would you do about it, my lady?”

As I brushed past all of them, needing to take my place with Thor and Odin to discuss our next moves, I answered his question, “I’ll kill him.”

Before I could make it very far at all, Ezra yelled after me, “good luck, pet. I take pity on you for what is about to come,” he shouted, that booming voice echoing throughout the silent dungeons. It was as if every prisoner stood completely still as I walked by-all but one. As I walked past Loki’s cell, I stared straight ahead, refusing to even look his way, still hurt by what transpired between us a week prior. It broke my heart to ignore him that way, but I had to focus on the safety of the Nine Realms. A piece of it was also to protect him. If there was a chance I could convince Ezra that I no longer cared for Loki, that Loki wasn’t a weakness of mine that he could exploit, I was going to take it. It was the best way to protect Loki at that point.

As I walked past his cell, he banged on the wall, yelling my name and trying to attract my attention, but I still didn’t give in. I blinked away the tears in my eyes, my heart shattering as I had to look the other way once more. I did that before, and I couldn’t believe I was doing it again. I was still hurt and angry at him for what he said when I visited him that night, but I could never stay mad at him for too long, not over trivial things like that. Even as I ascended the stairs, I could still hear his pained voice calling my name. My ears began ringing, and the world around me seemed unsteady. When I reached the last few stairs, the wound on my abdomen sent a piercing pain through my entire body, and I jolted forward to accommodate the sudden and intense pain. If Loki had seen me fall as I had in that moment, he would’ve laughed at me before falling down with me, not wanting me to feel isolation and embarrassment. I coughed, and the fleeting thoughts of my love were pushed to the side as I tasted the blood in my mouth. I swallowed it back just as the guards ran over to me to help me up, just like Loki would have done.

*Loki’s POV*

I felt the immeasurable pain that she was experiencing, and I couldn’t help but feel like there was something seriously wrong. That was one of the things that never stopped for me, no matter how deep my madness became. She was still there, an untouched and untainted beauty among the raging wildfire that was my mind. I could always feel her pain, her suffering, her joy, and her love. I could feel every emotion and every ounce of physical pain, which Thanos used to his advantage. While it killed me inside to know that she was hurting, it let me know that she was still alive, wherever she was. This sensation was something new, though. I could barely stand due to the pain in my abdomen. Even when she had transferred his wound onto herself, it couldn’t hold a candle to the pain I began experiencing no long before.

Everyone began filing out of the dungeons aside from the two guards Eva demanded always stand watch over the new prisoner. I had never seen Eva deal with anyone quite like that, but he must’ve made her feel something otherworldly to pull out that side of her. Watching it was exhilarating in a way that I never would’ve expected. I could feel the anger and pain coursing through her veins every moment she stood before him, but I could also feel her conflict. When he mentioned two people-one here and one on Midgard-I found myself trying to piece together who it could be. Perhaps he was speaking about Aaldir or Thor. I was certain she cared little for me after what I did the last time we saw each other. The unnamed person on Earth was what I tried to piece together first, though. Was it Tony Stark? I noticed that the two of them had quite the connection when I was around them on Midgard. What if it was the Soldier? The two of them shared similar beliefs, and he had protected her from near death quite a few times.

When another piercing pain erupted in my abdomen, I gritted my teeth and grunted, reaching for the tender spot. As I tried to breathe through the pain, I heard his laughter from the cell diagonal to mine, “you must be Loki!” he smiled, amused at my pain. I knew that madness well, well enough to know that it was not all his own. Someone had taken advantage of a weakness and used it against him. A small part of me felt empathy for him, but I couldn’t help but think of how he must’ve hurt Eva. As I glared up at him, he cocked his head to the side, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m a pretty big fan because of what you did on Midgard-you know, attempting to kill everyone who wouldn’t blindly follow your rule. I have to say that it was a bold move for the unloved son of a false king,” he barked before taking a deep breath and calming his nerves, “I’m Ezra Culson, the new bane of Eva’s existence. You’ve been replaced.”

“What did you do to her?” I yelled, anxious to know what had transpired to bring about a pain like this. Before Ezra pointed out the wound on her abdomen, it was barely noticeable, especially since she showed little signs of discomfort while she was in the dungeons. Still, shortly before she came down to the dungeons, I had felt the intense pain, and I knew she had been stabbed. This sensation, however, was so different than before. When we were on Midgard, I...she had been stabbed. That was nothing like this. I grunted as I stood up straight, trying to ignore the burning sensation.

Ezra shook his head, a hint of guilt in his eyes that didn’t seem completely genuine, “I didn’t come here to fight-not today, anyway-but when Odin refused to my terms and your brother refused my offer to take Eva off your hands, I had no choice. She got in the way,” he said, nonchalantly as he shrugged it off like it was nothing. Even the guards outside of his cell were disturbed. Everyone in Asgard knew Eva, and everyone knew that she was the embodiment of all that was good and light in this world. Ezra acted as if his action of attacking her was nothing serious, like attacking her wasn’t like he was attacking the very fabric of life itself. During my stunned silence, he continued to speak, “let’s just say that you’re not the only one who has it out for Odin.”

“I couldn’t care less about him. You hurt her!” I snapped, slamming my fist against the cell wall and startling the guards and the other prisoners within the dungeons. Ezra would have a hard time in the dungeons because no matter how much the other prisoners hated Odin and Asgard, they could not bring themselves to even speak unkindly of Eva. The longer the prisoners stayed in the dungeons, the more they grew accustomed to her singing, and because Eva showed the planet so much love and kindness, everyone who resided here could feel her energy coursing through them. Her connection to the world and life was incredible. As my chest tightened, I glared at him, “you hurt her, and I’m going to kill you for that,” I growled in a low voice.

He shrugged it off again, “collateral damage,” he remarked, “it’s nothing that can’t be undone. When she gives in and leaves with me, which she will, I’ll heal her, and we’ll be on our way.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you!” I yelled once more, realizing that he was doing exactly what he wanted to do, and I was allowing it to happen. He was crawling right under my skin, and I couldn’t stop it. It was like Thanos all over again. Ezra just knew my weakness, and he was going to exploit it. He would try to break me, but I wouldn’t lose Eva again, and that was what kept me from falling back into the comfort of my own darkness.

He chuckled, “I have a better claim to her even as an outsider, or did you forget?” he asked, and my eyes widened as it felt like my chest would completely cave in. He couldn’t have been referencing that moment, but it wouldn’t surprise me with all that he knew about Eva and myself. A part of me wished to know where he acquired this information, but the part that took hold of me in that moment was still the nervous and insecure man I was before I fell from the Bifrost, before I pushed Eva out of my life, before I realized that I would never truly be my father’s son. I could still remember Odin’s words as if our conversation was happening that very moment:

“A girl who could pass as a princess even without a prince would be better suited for Thor, and I will not entertain these childish games any longer!”

It was the first moment in my life that I felt utterly hopeless. All that I had done up until that moment seemed like it was in vain. I had loved Eva, and she loved me. When she forced me to relive that memory in the dream, I couldn’t help but associate it with the conversation that followed with my father. He had been the one to pull me from our beautiful moment, our last beautiful moment. Our conversation was meant to open the doors for millions of other beautiful moments, but he slammed those doors in my face, telling me that I would never be worthy enough for Eva, that she was being saved for Thor. It was the beginning of my downfall, and she was the one who was hurt most from it.

While my chest heaved, I imagined ripping his tongue from his throat. I imagined slitting his throat open while he spoke of how Eva was nothing more than “collateral damage.” I imagined his blood on my hands as I tore him apart for what he did to her and for what he tried to do to me. I knew that all he had to do was exploit my weakness, and he would be able to turn me against her. Something in me was broken, and he wanted to toy around with it, “speak one more word, and you’ll wish for death when you see what I do to you,” I threatened, narrowing my eyes at him and realizing just how familiar they looked, like I had seen them a thousand times before. Green...like the color of spring.

He chuckled, sitting on the floor and tucking his legs under himself. It seemed as if he would let my comment roll off his back, but that was the opposite of what he did. Instead, he brought up the one thing I cared about more than anything else. Eva. He grinned, madness in his eyes, “threaten me again, and you’ll wish for death when you see what I do to her.”

Without warning, my mind felt like it was being torn apart, like the broken edges were being chipped away at. As I fell to the floor in a massive pain radiating from the ghost wound on my abdomen and the sudden and intense pain in my own mind, I gritted my teeth and groaned loudly. I could remember her eyes that day, the day I hurt her more than I could ever forgive myself for. I had expected her to look at me like I was a monster, like I was her enemy. However, she didn’t. She spoke my name with fear in her eyes and sorrow in her voice. It was my first moment of clarity in so long, but it was also my greatest moment of weakness and tragedy because I hurt the one thing I wished to protect: my friend, my princess, my love.

My Eva.

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reactivebangtan · 6 years

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REQUEST: Are your requests open? I didn’t see anything saying that they weren’t so I’m sorry if they’re not. But if they are could you possibly do a BTS reaction to when their S/O comes home after a really stressful day at work and something really little and trivial sets them off and makes them cry? I work in a memory care facility and today was literally the worst. REQUESTED BY: anonymous WARNINGS: nothing! NOTES: this is so late but i hope your day got a little better! ♡

he could see it as soon as you walked in the door — your usual smile upon hearing his ‘ welcome home, sweetheart! ’ was dim, your eyes seemed distant ( he’d bet anything that your head wasn’t where your body was ), and even your feet seemed out of place as you moved from the front door. there was no telling what caused it or how bad the damage was, but he didn’t bother second-guessing himself when he asked: ❝ are you okay, babe? ❞ from his place in the kitchen — he’d gotten so used to cooking meals late to accommodate your work schedule that he simply found himself there around this time everyday — he could see the way your whole body tensed, the way you paused, the way his question rolled over you and he could see exactly when it hit you. it seems that was all it took, as even though your mouth never opened, the tears that immediately welled in your eyes and shook your shoulders answered his question all on their own. instantly, you had two strong arms wrapping themselves around your body and supporting your weight, allowing you to lean into him completely as the shell you’d precariously built around yourself came crumbling down. sobs shook your body, your limbs trembled with every inhale and your chest squeezed with every exhale, and even though seokjin held you up it felt as if the floor was coming out from under you. after consistently holding it in all day it felt almost therapeutic to let it go, though, and once he sat you down and your cries calmed into little hiccups and gasps you could feel the weight of the day sliding off you in languid, heavy waves. every once in a while his thumb would pass over your cheek to catch a stray tear, or you’d feel his mouth press to the side of your head, as if he wanted to make sure you knew he was still there, sitting with you — he never asked another question, never bothered to shush you, simply allowing you to get it all out until you couldn’t cry anymore. and, by the time you did finally stop, he smiled at you like your eyes weren’t puffy and your nose wasn’t running and your make-up wasn’t streaked all over the place — he smiled like it was his first time seeing you walk through the door, like he’d been missing you all day, like he didn’t mind all the mess. there’s no ‘ do you feel better, now? ’, no ‘ get it all out? ’, no trying to cheer you up and simply move past this, just the serene calm that washes over you when he brushes your hair back and kisses your forehead one more time. ❝ how does a bath sound? you can soak the day off, and dinner should be finished by the time you get out. come on — i’ll start it for you. ❞

yoongi tried not to take it too personally when your response to him showing up at your place was dismissive and almost tired, brushing it off as you simply being exhausted from working so much lately. he even chalks up the way you grumble to yourself while in the kitchen to mere fatigue, opting to hover in the doorway rather than get in your way as you seemingly argue with the vegetables and scowl at the seasonings. it isn’t until a certain scent hits his nose that he actually makes his way into the warzone, sniffing all the way up to the undeniable source before noting it as blatantly as possible: ❝ you burnt the rice. ❞ when his gaze moves from the mess inside the pot to your face he expects to see that glare fixated on him, but instead is met with you covering your mouth and turning away as soon as you notice he’s looking at you. a strange reaction to say the least, but then you were never exactly normal by any means, and it’s another thing he’s willing to excuse away until he sees the way your shoulder trembles and your breath shudders out of you, choking halfway out. it takes all of five seconds to realize what’s happening, before he’s rushing towards you with all the intent to make it stop and no real idea how. the first words that clumsily tumble out of his mouth are: ❝ it’s not that bad, ❞ but when your immediate response is a choked ❝ it’s not that, ❞ his shoulders are slumping a little further and his brows furrowing even tighter. he doesn’t try to assume what’s got you upset, aware of the fact that you’ll tell him sooner or later and that it takes more than an educated guess to understand. instead, he opts for taking you into his arms and shushing you, holding you as close as he can without completely suffocating you. yoongi has never been the best with affection, but he’s certainly not the worst, either — this shows, now, with the way his hand cradles the back of your head and leans it on his shoulder, and how he says nothing when he feels your tears soaking into the material of his shirt and hitting his skin. it isn’t the first time you’ve cried in front of yoongi, and yet you still feel ashamed through the tears and the sobs and the whimpers — clutching onto the material of his shirt, you try to stand up straight, to get yourself together, but your knees are weak and you’re so tired and all you can do is lean against him and apologize, because what else is there to do? ❝ i’m sorry — ❞ you start, but he doesn’t let you finish, quieting your weak, trembling voice with a strong: ❝ don’t be. just let it out. ❞ and, you swear he holds you a little tighter, pulls you a little closer, before you’re wrapped entirely in him.

❝ hey, babe! ❞ hoseok’s cheery voice on the other side of the phone line is almost enough to lift your spirits right away, and you almost feel as if he knew you weren’t feeling like yourself — he always seems to call when things start to look gloomy, especially when he couldn’t be there — the thought bringing a little smile to your face. ❝ hey, hobi, ❞ comes your exhausted greeting, spoken on a heavy sigh ( he’s always done that to you, dragged the air right out of you somehow, like a simple breath could knock away the weight of the world, like he has the right to steal your breath away ). ❝ what’s up? ❞ you exchange your usual conversation collectively recounting all the little steps of your day, odd chatter in the background of his end filling the silence between words and your solemn breathing, all as you prepare your dinner and buzz about your kitchen. another thing you loved about him; he listened to anything you had to say, soaking it all in like a sponge and relishing in it, all because he couldn’t be there with you to experience it all firsthand — it’s second best to the real thing, but it’s enough. it isn’t until you accidentally swipe your hand over the counter in a grand display to what you were explaining that conversation stops mid-sentence and he’s left questioning you as to why you’ve gone quiet — you say nothing, already feeling your throat closing up at the sight before you begins swimming in a blend of color and shapes as tears fill your eyes. food — the last of the food you have in your house — is now all over the floor and painting the sides of your counters, and you swear you see a crack in the side of the bowl you had put it all in. all hoseok gets is a quiet chanting of ‘ no, no, no, no, ’ and more questions than answers. sure, it was cheap food and the bowl was plastic, but you were looking forward to finally sitting down and enjoying something today, and yet it seems the divines have other plans. ❝ what happened? are you okay? ❞ ❝ no, ❞ you whine, voice now clouded and thick with the frustration and despair that had built a home in your chest and decided to, apparently, live there. his chest aches, too, when he hears the way you whimper helplessly into the phone. ❝ my dinner is all over the floor and i have nothing else to eat and the bowl is broken and it’s everywhere and — ❞ ❝ okay! okay, hey, breathe, ❞ it’s all he can do to cut you off, evening out his own breathing and listening for yours to do the same. ❝ it’s okay. it’s just food, right? you didn’t get hurt? ❞ waiting again to hear your affirmation, the smallest of smiles worms its way onto his face — god, you could be wailing at the top of your lungs, and he’d still think you’re cute. ❝ i’ve got an idea — can you wait to clean it up? ❞ ❝ yeah, i guess... ❞ you sniffle, wiping away the few stray tears that escaped your eyes in the midst of your despair. ❝ why? ❞ ❝ 'cause i’m coming over to help! ❞ he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you can just hear the door close behind him as he saunters out into the world, on his way to find you. ❝ and, i’m bringing pizza. unlock your door for me, okay? ❞

a sudden gasp and a yelped ‘ no, please don’t — ! ’ from the other room is enough to get namjoon up and out of the professional stupor he’d been in for the last three hours, finally leaving his pen and paper behind for the sake of whatever you’d gotten yourself into this time. he’s prepared for something spilled or something ripped or perhaps something broken, but what he isn’t prepared for is to see you standing over something spilled, ripped and broken with tears in your eyes. your latest book, one you’d been particularly excited about reading, lay at your feet with the pages soaked through with juice you’d left sitting on the side, words bleeding out into the paper and smearing, one page even half-torn and dangling just past the rest. in an effort to save it, you’d grabbed the closest thing available — which ended up being one of your shirts from the day before — and began desperately pressing it to the pages in order to soak some of the mess up. it did very little, and only caused you to get more frustrated, which ended up in another influx of tears. ❝ hey, babe, it’s okay, ❞ namjoon’s soothing voice washes over you as he steps farther into the room, causing you to finally look up from the disaster before you. ❝ i can buy you a new one, alright? please don’t cry over it. ❞ his words drip with honey, sugared in sympathy and a level of care that only he can produce, just as his hands reach out to wipe away the freshest of your tears as they trail hotly down your cheeks. ❝ it’s not just the book, ❞ you start, lip quivering — his heart breaks a little at the sight of it. ❝ everything’s been going wrong today. everything. ❞

it’s impossible to imagine how frustrated you must be just by your words alone, but he’s got a pretty good idea — he’s well acquainted with the sentiment, knowing far too well how it feels to have everything seemingly out of your control, crashing down around you and swallowing you up in the aftermath. watching as you spare another glance at the mess that is your destroyed book and seeing the way your shoulders sag in defeat, he spares one last glance himself at the door he’d walked through only moments before and sets his mouth in a hard-line; work can wait, he decides. ❝ well, we can’t go wrong with takeout, right? ❞ a smile alights his face when you shrug in response, nodding shortly after. ❝ how about we call some food in and just chill out for the night? we can... watch some movies or something. something with a happy ending. how does that sound? ❞ his smile only grows when you notices your own slowly bringing itself to life on the deadened features you’d taken to, just as you reach up to swipe away the last of the evidence of your minor breakdown. you glow, again ( at least, in his eyes ). ❝ yeah... that sounds perfect. ❞

you’ve held it in all day, expertly avoided questions like ‘ hey, are you okay? ’ and smiled every time someone got a little too close to seeing through your facade. it took all the willpower you had to not either leave or breakdown in the bathroom, already beyond frustrated with most everything going on — it didn’t help that nothing seemed to go your way, everything that could go wrong was and absolutely no one seemed to care but you. because of all this, you can’t help the relief that washes over you when you’re standing in front of your front door, knowing that beyond lay not only a bottle of wine and a cozy bed, but also your loving boyfriend. ❝ jimin? ❞ you call out as you shut it behind you, unable to help yourself from seeking him out almost immediately. getting a soft ‘ back here! ’ in return, you begin trailing to the back of your shared apartment, a little smile beginning to bloom on your lips as the comfortable silence in the house lapses over everything else and peace surrounded you. you’re no longer paying attention to what room you enter or how your body swerves around different corners, only aware of the fact that he’d be waiting there with open arms and that dazzling smile of his at the end. it isn’t until your feet hit the cold tile floor of your bathroom that you stop to notice the walls that encase you and, in turn, the divine scene set before you. candles were precariously placed on all the places they’d fit ( one balanced on the sink, on the back of the toilet, two on the thin rims of the bathtub, even one on the floor ), water was filled to the brim of the tiny tub with petals delicately scattered over the surface and a pleasant aroma filled the air — cinnamon and sugar and sweet almond, a soft blend that hits you just as your eyes settle on the man you’d been waiting hours to see. ❝ what is all of this? ❞ you ask, and he doesn’t seem to notice the tremble in your voice right away, instead smiling sheepishly in return and averting his gaze nervously. ❝ well, you texted me that you weren’t feeling well, and you always do this sort of thing for me when i’m not feeling my best, so... ❞ when all he gets in silence in return he finally forces himself to look at you and gauge your reaction, as, for some reason beyond him, he was utterly terrified to see what it was. did he do too much? too little? did he mess something up? the horror only doubled when he saw you covering your mouth and tears springing to your eyes, threatening to flow freely any moment — the candles flickered against them, alighted them and gived them a glow, and suddenly all he wanted to do was snuff them out. despite the fear and anxiety, he rushes to you within an instant and hovers just outside of touching you for fear of provoking you further: ❝ ah! did i do something wrong? i didn’t mean to make you cry! ❞ ❝ no, ❞ you manage to choke out, one hand shooting out to balance yourself on his bicep, squeezing and trying to ground yourself; eventually, you have no choice but to shut your eyes and let the tears fall from your lashes. ❝ it’s nothing you did. this is — this is wonderful, jimin, thank you. ❞ the fear dissolves as your words spill as clumsily from your lips as your tears from your eyes, but the anxiety remains nuzzled into his chest, just as you do a moment later. this time, without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you and supports your weight as you try to calm yourself down, reign yourself in, and when you fail to do even that. ❝ did something happen at work today? ❞ ❝ something like that, ❞ comes your weak response. ❝ i’m sorry, jimin. you must’ve worked really hard to do all of this, and yet i’m... ❞ ❝ it’s okay, ❞ his voice is so sweet, so soft, whispered right into your ear, warming your skin. ❝ you know i don’t mind. besides, you can still enjoy it, right? ❞ sinking into his arms and filling your lungs with air ( and, in turn, the scent he’d chosen ), you allow your heart to settle in your chest and the tears to slow, the ache in your head subsiding — how did you ever get to be so lucky? ❝ can... we enjoy it? ❞ a chuckle is your immediate response, before he’s kissing the top of your head and smoothing his hands down your sides — he takes his time sliding his fingertips beneath the hem of your shirt and lifting it just as slowly, caressing the dip of your hip and the curve of your waist as he does so, and the rest of your clothes are slipped off all in the same way: ❝ i’d like that. ❞

water thoroughly soaks through the material of your clothing and the chill that comes with it sinks into your skin and aches in your bones, all of which cause you to tremble and shake. you can see no sign of the rain stopping anytime soon, and all you can think is how this is the perfect ending to the worst sort of day — it can’t get any worse, you mock yourself in your head. now all i can do is look up! right. you couldn’t look up if you wanted to at the moment, unless you wanted to drown, both physically ( which you know isn’t exactly possible, but after considering your luck for the day you decide not to take the risk ) and metaphorically. the noise of water hitting concrete drowned out your groans and little whimpers, the cold coaxing them out of you over and over, until you weren’t sure you knew how to make any other sound. thankfully, you managed to find an overhanging roof that you could tuck yourself under, but every so often the wind would blow the rain onto you anyway, and it dripped incessantly from above, soaking into your hair. without truly realizing it, you begin to tear up, salt mingling with the fresh water clinging to your form — it isn’t until you feel the warmth racing down your cheek and cooling by the time it drips off your chin that you truly realize. it made sense, after a day like this — it seemed no matter how hard you worked things wouldn’t go right, and you could see the annoyance in your co-workers eyes every single time you messed up even slightly, until you couldn’t bare to look them in the eye anymore. those you were helping never seemed to be satisfied, and your help seemed to just add to their problems, until you tried to hang back and interact as little as possible. eventually, this all added up to you getting yelled at and reprimanded for things you couldn’t really help, which, although it wasn’t your breaking point, it was pretty damn close. and, if that weren’t enough, you were looking forward to finally going home and being able to relax, maybe grab a glass of that good wine you’ve been waiting to serve and take a hot bath, until even that was taken from you as soon as you stepped up to the exit. you could feel the cold from the other side of the glass, and you tried to prepare yourself, you really did, but the walk back home was far too long for weather like this. still, you had no other choice. it is, afterall, how you got here. the world around you seems bleak, without life and color, and the sheer loneliness of it has you clutching at yourself in order to ground yourself — the feeling brings you back to the real world just enough for you to shove your hand into your bag and rummage around in order to find your phone, finally resorting to your last option. when the line clicks and you hear him shuffling around, you don’t even give him a chance to say ‘ hello? ’: ❝ tae? ❞ ❝ y/n? is everything okay? ❞ ❝ if ‘ okay ’ is being drenched and freezing, then yes, ❞ you try to reply smoothly, but you’re certain he can hear the tremble in your voice. ❝ are you, by any chance, busy? ❞ ❝ too busy to come pick you up? no, ❞ his reply is smooth, though, and it eases you just a little. ❝ send me your location. ❞ waiting there for him seems to take forever, and the lonely streets only get lonelier and lonelier the longer you’re left standing there, by yourself, anticipating everything and nothing all at once. you find yourself thinking things like ‘ what if he doesn’t come? ’ and ‘ what if he forgets? ’ despite knowing he’d never do such a thing. and, you thought you were crying before, but the relief that washes over you when you finally spot taehyung’s car is enough to bring it all back, your lip trembling and your eyes stinging. it’s damn near overwhelming, how it forces the air out of your lungs and has you clutching ever tighter to yourself. it doesn't get bad, though, until you actually see him stepping out of the car, your eyes immediately meeting through the thick curtain of water dividing you. with an umbrella in hand and his destination seemingly nothing but you, you get all choked up and practically run to him when he’s close enough. the umbrella just barely shields you both from the onslaught of rain, but it’s enough to get you both in the car, his clothes, for the most part, unscathed. and, in the immense relief comes even more as you feel the hot air coming out of the car, momentarily blinding you to the fact that you’re still crying. it was impossible to stop yourself, to shut it all down, and by the time you’re trying to simply it and the evidence of the torrential downpour off your cheeks, he notices. ❝ bad day? ❞ he asks, reaching out far enough to lay a hand over your thigh, squeezing. ❝ yeah, ❞ you breathe. ❝ the worst. i’m sorry for taking you away from whatever you were doing, though. ❞ ❝ don’t be — i didn’t even know it was raining until you called, otherwise i would’ve come to pick you up at work. ❞ not once today has someone said ‘ don’t be ’ to you today when you apologized, not once have they showed you sympathy, and not once have they shown you care. that is the final straw. ❝ thank you, ❞ you start, eyes watering and mouth turned up into the softest, shakiest smile. he only looks at you briefly, trying to keep his attention fixated on the road, but whatever he manages to see is enough to make him frown. ❝ thank you, taehyung. ❞ ❝ thank me when we get back to the dorms, ❞ comes his curt reply, another swift squeeze on your thigh stopping you from saying otherwise or arguing with his decision. ❝ they’re closer, and i don’t want you getting sick from staying in those clothes. this project shouldn't’ take much longer, anyway, so i should be able to spend some time with you tonight. we can... order take-out, and just sit around or watch a movie or something. how does that sound? ❞ ❝ sounds like the best thing i’ve heard all day. ❞

among the top of the list of things you love about jungkook is his spirited, competitive mentality that always seemed to push him to do his best in anything and everything — it was one of the things that attracted you to him in the first place, one of those things you find endearing ( most people look at you weird for that, but you don’t mind ), and something you deal well with. sure, you might get a little competitive yourself, but it didn’t seem to matter who really won to you when you were with him. whether you won or lost you got something out of it, whether it be his cute pout or his beautiful smile. this is why, after you got home and he could practically see the stress rolling off you in tangible waves, then proceeded to offer to play you on your favorite video game you couldn’t see it going wrong. a perfect way to unwind after a long day and vent your frustrations, right? wrong. every time you got your score beat and your ass virtually kicked it just seemed like a repeat of the whole day — you couldn’t do anything right, the buttons weren’t working the way they were supposed to and you just kept failing. you couldn’t even win one time! not once! just as quickly as the frustration had melted away when you stepped through the front door, it seemed to return just as fast the longer you stared at that damn screen, the bright colors and lively music taunting you. where his usual little whoops of triumph and victory dance might’ve warmed you on a normal day, today they only set the feeling in stone and weighed down on your shoulders like absolutely everything else. it isn’t until he wins for the tenth time that you really start to feel it, though, that overwhelming and suffocating sort of frustration that makes your chest ache and your head hurt and everything in you tense at the sensation of it. the controller protested with a subtle crackling noise as your hands tightened around it, and it was all you could do to simply look away and clench your jaw. i will not cry over this, you chant in your head. i will not cry over this. no matter of trying to convince yourself would work, though, as even though your eyes are closed you can feel the tears building up behind your lids. the heat of them is overwhelming, burning their way past your lashes and trailing down your cheeks before you can even try to stop them. ❝ babe? ❞ jungkook breaks you from your inner turmoil, just as he’s leaning close to you to get a glimpse of your expression, but can’t quite reach that far. ❝ you’re not really that mad about losing, are you? ❞ it’s all you can offer, a shake of your head instead of words that come out on a shaky breath and crack halfway up your throat, so weak in tone that you just feel that much more worthless. you know he can hear it anyway, that he knows, that you’re not hiding it as well as you would’ve liked to. ❝ babe? ❞ he asks once again, his question now soft and tender and so, so aware. ❝ are you... are you crying? ❞ there’s no need to look at him to know his mouth is turned down and his brows are pinched together, and there’s no need for him to see your face when he already knows tears are marring it all the way down your cheeks. suddenly, though, he’s moving from his seat to stand in front of you, his controller tumbling from his lap and clattering to the floor — the noise has your eyes popping open, only to see him standing there, looking at you with those big, worry-filled eyes. the sympathy is damn near tangible, rolling off of him in thick, languid waves that wash over you until you’re crying all over again. ❝ i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ it’s not you, ❞ you start, assuring him of your words with a squeeze to his bicep. ❝ today has just been — ❞ the words get caught in your throat just from remembering it all, leading to you momentarily choking on them. ❝ nothing’s been going right, i kept messing up at work, i can’t even do this right, and it’s making me feel so — so worthless. ❞ he never knows what to do in these situations, can never think of the right thing to say, too caught up in the fact that you’re hurting to think of anything else. the best thing he can do is run his hand down the length of your arm until he can lace his fingers together with yours, holding on to you as tight as he can in hopes of grounding you here, with him. ❝ you know i’m not... good at this sort of thing, but is there anything i can do? ❞ it takes you moment to think about it, but the idea comes quickly enough: ❝ could we maybe just... lay down for a bit? ❞ the idea of being all wrapped up in him is almost as therapeutic as the real thing, and you can feel your heart slowing down at just the thought — even if it’s just being close to him, or the smell of him, or his heat radiating against your side you feel calm instantaneously. ❝ yeah, of course, but are you sure you want me there? i just made you cry. ❞ ❝ it wasn’t you, ❞ you remind him, squeezing his hand right back. ❝ i couldn’t think of anything else today, other than coming home to you. being near you, it... it helps me. you help me. ❞ a sheepish smile works its way onto his lips, and he’s finally looking like himself again — worry is still evident on his features, but it’s become dim and overwhelmed by the joy now twinkling in his eyes from your words. ❝ let’s go, then, ❞ he replies, taking to picking you up straight out of your seat and depositing you into his arms, holding you close to him even when your squirming and exclamation of ‘ kookie! ’ says you can walk perfectly fine on your own. ❝ what? we’ll get there faster like this! ❞ ( and, despite your pushing at his chest and adamant wiggling, a smile has bloomed upon your face and your tears have begun to dry, that renewed twinkle reflecting in your eyes as well. )

#reactions.#requests.#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts reacts to #bts reader insert #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #they all came out so cute :(

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roommateofmyimagination-blog · 7 years

Text

Chapter 7: You’re going to kill me to I’m going on a date.

✗ Adrian ✗

I was on my feet, then i was off of them. The view of trees in front of me slowly moved downwards as It panned upwards to seeing the dusky sky. Before i knew it I was on my back in the dirt. A hand pressed strongly onto my chest. It felt like gravity was weighing down on me and pushing me further into the ground. Coughing violently, i grabbed at the hand that was placed on my chest. Bringing my legs up a bit trying to kick at the ground.

“L-let me...go.” I choked out, opening my eyes barely to look at my opponent. Tsuyoi was kneeled above me, his hand pressed firmly into my chest. Holding me down still with only one of his hands.

“You need to bring out your magic first.” Tsuyoi demanded, not moving an inch from me. “Do that or black out.”

“I c-cant.” I started coughing harder, “b-breath.” I dont know how he was doing it, but the weight on my body was getting unbearably painful and i felt like i was going to pass out soon. I couldnt breath at all, nothing came into my lungs. “Let...go...damn it.”

“Show me your magic and i will, you’re the only one lacking here.” Tsuyoi growled. “If you cant use magic you cant fight with us! You’ll fucking die!”

“Tsuyoi let him go!” Pendragon shouted from somewhere. “We arent the ones to kill him!”

“Pen, you know he has to get stronger! Or we leave him behind! No need for weaklings.” He growled, turning to look at Pendragon.

Reaching up one of my hands i grabbed at his neck, “I said, let. Go.” Tsuyoi looked down at me when my hand wrapped around his neck. There was no strength behind my grip on him. But Tsuyoi tensed up a bit and looked concerned down at me. Black something was crawling up the length of his neck and up to his face. Tsuyoi didnt start freaking out a tad until the black stuff got up to his left eye.

“What are you doing?” He growled, pushing on my chest.

Coughing hard, “showing you my magic, Bitch.” the black, imma call it ink, got up to his left eye then spread quickly across his face, covering both of his eyes. Ink started to spread across his body faster now. It went up to his ears, down his neck and into his arms. It looked like the black ink entered his veins with how it looked on his arms, but his face looked like a black mask was around it.

Tsuyoi brought his arm off my chest. He fell down backwards onto his ass. “Get this shit off me!” he shouted, tugging at the mask on his face. It looked like he was able to pull it off but it was stuck to him like glue. “Get it off Drakul!! I cant see or hear!” he fell onto his back and started rolling side to side trying to get the black off him. “Pendragon get over here!”

Pendragon ran up to Tsuyoi and straddled his body between his legs. Pendragon was hunched over trying to pull the black wrap off of Tsuyoi’s face. “It wont come off man!” Pendragon sounded concerned, “and its spreading onto me!” he was panicking now. Pendragon had powers similar to a dragon. He brought out his scales to try and prevent the spreading, it seemed to work a bit.

Getting off my back, i sat on my knees in the dirt, holding my chest and coughing hard. Looking over at Pendragon and Tsuyoi, I chuckled lightly through my coughing. Picking my hand up that held Tsuyoi’s neck and moving my hand in a way that looked like i was snatching at the air between us. The black ink seeped off of Pendragon and Tsuyoi and wrapped around my arm, blending back into my leather suit. Coughing lighter this time, “So?”

“Fuck you.” Tsuyoi growled at me, “so you have dark shit that comes off of you, so what?”

“I think it was kinda scary…” pendragon moved from Tsuyoi and sat on the ground beside him.

Takeshi walked over to us and squated down in front of me, “So what is that magic?”

“Dunno.” I sat back down on my ass, “i just felt it weld up in me, i was starting to see black from not being able to fucking breath.” I glared over at Tsuyoi, “whats worse?”

“Feels like gravity or weight distribution…” he held his neck lightly, “I feel like i have stupid amounts of strength in me, and yet i can some how change the weight of something about me or around me.”

“Ah cool, scary too.” Pendragon commented.

“Yours Pendragon?” Takeshi looked over at him. Her cheek in her hand, she looked so uninterested in this conversation.

“I know i can bring scales out, for sure and i cant breath fire. I think theres something else i can do, just cant figure it out.” He rubbed the back of his head, “you Takeshi?”

She looked at her feet. “I have really powerful legs so i can jump stupid high. My martial arts skills are better, and if i move fast enough i can make something like….wind blades.”

“Wind blades?” the three of us talked together.

“Like something really sharp but its made of air or the wind i make with all my floppy sleeves and wears moving.” she grunted, embarrassed at having to explain this to us.

“So if we have magic why do we have weapons?” I asked, fiddling with my hair. “Just seems unnecessary to us.”

“Its so if you cant use magic, you have something to defend yourselves.” Ryaikum was standing above us all. He dropped Tsuyoi’s, Takeshi’s and my weapons in front of us. Tossing Pendragon his. “Me and Pendragon are leaving.” he grabbed Pendragon’s hand and walked a bit of a distance away from us before disappearing.

Lappin fetched takeshi soon after and left me and Tsuyoi.

“We know each other?” Tsuyoi spoke up, leaned back on his hands and staring at me.

“Dunno.” I glared back at him, “you in college?”

“Yeah.” he replied, “you go to the school near here?” “Yeah.” I answered. “Live in the dorms?”

“No off campus in a house with my significant other.” he dropped his head back a bit, “you?”

“On campus with a roommate. Your house mate, she cute?” I asked dropping my head onto my knees.

“He, and yes.” He answered flatly.

“He?” I picked my head up, “you gay?”

“Dunno if Gay or bisexual. My boyfriend now is the only one i’ve ever dated before.” Tsuyoi looked a little embarrassed, “he’s...special to me.”

“Aah, i can tell.” I chuckled a bit, putting my head back on my knees.

“You?” Tsuyoi looked over at me from the corner of his eyes.

“Gay as fuck.” I answered him.

“Ah.” is all he said as he stared at me. Eventually he grunted and stood up. “Sorry for before.”

“Eh?” I looked up at him.

“For being too rough with you.” he held his hand out to me, taking it he helped me onto my feet. “I dont want you to be a weak link,you have potential. All of us do, we have to work as a team some day i guess, you need to be ready to fight eventually.”

“I know, its just…” I looked down, “everything is still new and confusing.”

“I know how you feel.” He patted my back hard, “Kenny isnt as open to me either, but we try.”

“What about me?” Kenaz purred from behind me. Freaking out i spun around to see Kenaz with a smug cat smile on his face. “You all did well today, we’re all still….accommodating to everything. All of us, you kids and us Magicae Socius are still getting use to one another.” Kenaz always seemed a bit more gentle than the other three, he spoke gentler. “Its only been a few days, but the weekend is soon, so we all agreed to let you kids rest a bit unless something happens.” kenaz walked past me to Tsuyoi, and grabbed his hand. “We must go though.” He smiled, “bye bye Drakul.” he smiled and waved at me. Taking Tsuyoi the walked into the woods.

“Let us go home.” Demyan spoke from behind me, he had his hands on my shoulders.

“Can you take us home?” I looked back at him over my shoulder, “im too tired.”

“Of course my pup.” he spoke softly. Blackness wrapped around his both. When light shone through it once again, we were in an alleyway between buildings. “I do not wanna port us somewhere someone can see. So just outside the stairs is all i can do.”

I looked at my hands, my costume was off and i had my regular clothes back on. “Its alright, thanks Dem.” I patted his hand on my shoulder, “turn back into a bat, ill take us inside.” demyan’s hands came off my shoulder, the sound of a puff of smoke was behind me then his little wings flapping behind my head. Turning to face him a bit, i held out my hands for him to sit in.opening my top shirt a bit i held him under it until he grabbed onto my shirt i wore under it. Walking up the stairs, i pulled out my keys and put it in the door to my apartment. Before turning the key, i turned the knob. It was already unlocked. Pulling my key out i walked in and saw Val in the kitchen.

“Welcome back.” He looked surprised to see me. Aero was sitting on the dinning table staring at me too.

Opening my shirt, i let demyan fly off and he went to his spot on the window ledge. “Thanks.” I dropped my bags by the door and walked to the kitchen. I held my hand out to Aero, she sniffed me then licked my finger a bit then hopped off the table. “You cooking?” I asked.

“Yeah, just mac and cheese though.” he replied back, filling a measuring cup with water.

“Just?” I asked leaning on the counter beside him, watching the cup fill.

“Yeah.” he looked confused about my question. “Why?”

“Like fish sticks?” I asked looking at his legs. They were so slender and smooth looking, almost girly ish. Aero’s little feet pattered into the kitchen, she meowed happily at my feet and walked between my legs. “Seems like princess likes the idea of fish sticks.” I bent down to scratch her head. “Come to the store with me, we’ll get fish sticks, hamburger or chicken what ever you like to go with the mac n cheese.” I stood up and left aero going to grab my keys. Val was staring at me like i’ve gone mental. Staring back at him, “come the fuck on.” I opened the door and motioned my hand for him to go outside. “You haven’t started cooking yet.”

Val put the measuring cup down and went to grab his shoes and put them on. He came up to me and grabbed his wallet. Snatching his wallet i put it back where it was placed, “excuse me?” he looked at me and grabbed his wallet again.

“No.” I grabbed his wallet again and threw it onto the sofa. “Go.” I pointed out the door again. Val looked at me and slowly reached for his keys. Grabbing those i threw them on to the sofa too. “Oh look at that. Leggo.” I pushed val on his back and walked out the door, closing it behind me and locking the door.

Val was laughing the whole time, “why wouldnt you let me grab my keys and wallet?” he asked looking up at me.

“Because im driving, duh.” I jingled my keys, “and it was my idea, so im paying.” I held out my wallet too then slipped it back in my front pocket. I flipped my keys around to click the lock button to find my jeep. “That way.” I pointed and dragged val with me. We found my jeep and go in.Valentine, did not like my driving. I on the other hand found it hilarious. Val thought i drove a bit too fast and recklessly, when i think i drive just a tad too fast and pretty fine, i just have road rage.

When we got out of the car to go to walmart Val waited for me to make my way around the car, “Im driving next time.”

“Nah i drive fine.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Cmon, it was kinda fun right?”

He looked at me with a slight Smile on his face, “a bit, but still reckless.” he chuckled.

“Alright, i’ll let you drive.” I sighed and we walked from the car to the scary vacant walmart. Yeah it was late, but empty walmarts always kinda disturbed me, because im so use to them being packed with so many fucking people. Val walked in front of me and grabbed a hand basket from the floor. We walked silently to the frozen section.

“Which do you want?” He stood in front of the frozen chicken breast section.

Looking down at him then the freezer, “pick which brand or whatever you like most squirt.” I stood behind him with my hands in my pockets.

“Alright.” He sighed lightly, looking through and grabbing a bag and putting it in the basket. “That it?”

“No.” I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the meat section. Looking at the different rows of hamburger available. Picking up a few to look at the freshness of it, i grabbed two and tossed them in the basket. “Never hurts to have both.”

Val looked at the basket then me, “that it?” he smiled.

“....No…?” I looked at him with a mild confused look, “Do we want...need any fruit or veggies. Dems could probably take a few more fruits, and i like fruit, so he has to share.” I walked over to the fruit section just a bit off from the meat. I was looking at a few apples and tossing good ones into the baggy.

Val placed the basket down and was examining oranges. “Do you know if Demmy has a preference?” he asked, putting a few oranges into a plastic baggy.

“I think he will eat anything.” I walked around Val and grabbed some good bananas, “if he doesn't eat it, I will.” I put the bags in the basket. “Heavy?” I pointed down at the basket.

“No?” Val eyed me, then lifted the basket, having it rested on his hip. “See easy.” He smiled proudly.

Eyeing him and chuckling, “aight strong man, leggo.” I walk ahead of him towards the registers. “Self check out or?” I look back at val whos slightly behind me. Waiting for him to walk up beside me i turned to walk with him.

“Self is fine.” Val held the basket out in front of him. He turned to walk to the self check out and set the basket down, scanning all the things and bagging them.

I stood behind Val who was still bagging everything, Pulling out my debit card i leaned over him and swiped my card, punched in the key, no cash back, yes this amount is right, yes yes thank you. Val stood stiff in front of me.

Leaning off of him i grabbed a few of the bags, “Cmon stale cupcake, lets go home.”

“Uh yeah okay.” He grabbed the remaining bags and jogged up behind me.

When we got to the car we put everything in the back seat. And i intentionally drove safely for the cupcake to not be clenched onto the oh-shit handle. We got back to the apartments and went up the stairs to the room. Val took some of the bags from me so i could get the door unlocked and opened. I held the door open for Val to walk in and set the bags down in the kitchen.His kitty princess soon hit the floor and made her way to Val and wrapped around his feet.

“Hello Aero.” he bent down and picked her up, loving on her.

“Hamburger or chicken?” i asked, surfing through the bags, “hamburger would be easiest, its not frozen.” I held up the pound of meat.

“Thats fine, what do you plan to make?” Val asked, setting aero down and then going to wash his hands.

“I can brown it and dump it into the mac n cheese, or make hamburger steak. Your opinion?” I asked pulling the wrapping off.

“Your pick, im happy either way.” Val smiled sweetly, wiping his hands dry on a towel.

“Hamburger steak it is.” I put the hamburger on the counter, walking over to the sink to wash my hands. Shaking them violently I went back to the little meat packages. “You...wouldnt mind if i gave demyan the little bit of...blood right?”

“Uh no not at all.” Val responded, “I bet he’d appreciate that sometimes over fruit.”

“Thanks.” I poured the little bit of blood left in the tray and put it in a little bowl like plate. “Demyan, come here, good boy treat.” I shouted enough for Demyan to hear me. A few squeaks came from my room then Demyan came flying out and landed on the counter. He sat there and stared at me, sniffing in my direction. “Here you go.” I set the little plate down and watched him climb onto top, sniff, then lap the little bit in the bowl.

“Oh i didnt know he would drink it that way.” Val spoke up and watched demyan.

“They dont actually suck blood. They bite and let it bleed then kinda lick it up.” I looked over to val while putting my hair up in a high ponytail. “And no, ive never let him bite me.”

“I wasnt going to ask that.” Val stiffened up and looked at me with a look of, oh shit you caught me.

Grabbing the raw meat and tearing it apart in chunks. “Id only let him bite me if he really needed too, and hed repay the favor.” I tapped his little head, “its how bats work.” I leaned back and saw the princess sitting on the floor, “Does she hunt?”

“No of course not, shes an outside cat but she knows ill feed her.” Val looked down at her, “I bet she could hunt if she wanted too though.”

“Ah.” I was forming balls in my hand. Once all the balls were formed i squished them with my hands. “You allergic to anything?” I asked half way through squishing.

“Nope.” Val grabbed some seasonings for me and set them down by me.When he was looking down i brought my slightly bloody hands up to his face on either side of his face. He looked up and leaned back away from me for a bit. “Uuuuuh?”

“Sorry i wanted to see if you were squirmish.”I dropped my hands back down and grabbed a paper towel, cleaning my hands and then grabbing seasonings and seasoning accordingly.

“I didnt know you could cook.” Val said softly, “its fun cooking with you.”

I stopped shaking the little bottles and looked over at him slowly. Val had a happy smile on his face and his cheeks were lightly pink.

“I...Uh, i dont know how to cook a lot of stuff, but i know what i know how to cook i cook it well, better then my mom sometimes.” I looked away from him and back to the meat. Demyan was sitting in front of me making little squeaky toy noises.

“Thats okay, i can show you what i know!” He beamed brightly, and stood on his toes.

“Yeah.” I smiled at him and then pulled out a pan to cook in. “Dunno how you eat meat, well done okay?” I asked throwing patties down.

“Yeah.” He smiled and went to work on the mac n cheese.

Val stood beside me while i browned all the meat and set them on paper plates. We talked about how classes were going. As we waited, i let Val look through my photos in my camera. He told me what looked good and what was kinda poorly shot or in a bad quality. We agreed to go on a photo trip some time soon. When everything was almost done, Val was going and grabbing plates, forks and knives.

“Water fine?” he asked after he set everything down.

“Yeah.” I grabbed the paper plate of patties and brought them over to our little table and val had the bowl of mac n cheese in his hands.

Val took a small bite of the hamburger and when he swallowed he smiled at me. “Its good!”

“Thanks.” I smiled lightly at him, I cut a bit off and put it in my mouth, to realize it was too big of a bite. I stared at val who was staring at me trying not too laugh. Holding my finger up i covered my mouth so he didnt see me chew so i could bite into it and make it swallow-able. Putting my hand down, “I made a very poorly calculated measurement.”

“Pfft.” Came from val as he pursed his lips.

“You can laugh, its okay. I fucking do it all the time at home.” I put my cheek in my hand with my elbow on the table.

“Pff, No, its okay, i wont laugh.” He giggled lightly. After a few bites he put his silverware down. “Thanks, for cooking and eating with me.” His head was down, but i could see a small smile on his lips and he looked up at me.

“Ah.” Is all i got out because i felt embarrassed? Pleased?...A heart attack? I looked down at my lap then back up at val, my face felt a little hot. “No fuckin problem.” I mumbled.

“Something wrong?” Val looked concerned or confused.

“Not a damn thing, just no one has thanked my for eating with them.” I moved my hair from my shoulder. “I never ate much with my family, so its weird to hear that.”

“You didnt eat with your family?” Val asked, tilting his head.

“I did….when i was home...not stoned, drunk, or dead to the world asleep.” I scratched my head. “It was all five of us, then progressively went to three of us then i would not be home or not eat.”

“Oh okay.” val looked at his plate, “I hope you eat with me more often.” he smiled sweetly.

“Aaaaaaaah, fuck yeah ill try.” I looked at my lap. Why does him smiling at me make me feel so fucking nervous? I looked over at demyan who looked like he was snickering at me. Picking my head up. “Ill try to tell you if i cant eat with you...if i have to go see my family or im performing.”

“Thats alright, i’d just appreciate you telling me.” he said sweetly and got up to rinse his plate.

I gobbled down the rest of my food then got up after him and helped clean up everything. We sat in the living room for awhile together and just chatted about things. Some school, but mostly about our families or what we did in high school.

“Tomorrows Saturday, got any plans?” I asked, rubbing my hair.

“Ah, not really, might have something to do that night.” he looked up like he was thinking, “why?”

“I promised you the other day with your friends, we’d hang out.” I mumbled, playing with my hair. “So i wanted to know if you’d hang out with me. I dont have plans really, so i thought id ask or id just fucking lounge here at the apartment.”

“Ah sure, we can do that!” Val smiled happily and leaned in closer to me.

“Too close cupcake.” I leaned back a little from him.

“My name is Valentine.” He pouted a little, “you can call me Val.”

“Yeah, no im calling you cupcake. You look like an upside down or reversed red velvet cupcake.” I commented looking at his hair compared to his pale skin.

“Red velvet is more of a darker red then my hair.” He replied back, crossing his arms and leaning into the sofa.

“I could think up a lot of names if you dont wanna be cupcake any more.” I tapped my chin, “could call you peppermint.” I smirked lightly, “but i like cupcake more.”

Val looked at me and held his mouth open, “Ill think of a nickname for you.” he puffed his cheeks a bit. “I just cant think of one right now.”

“Oh, I wanna hear that.” I leaned onto my knees and put my face in my hand. “I wanna know what you’d call me.”

Val blushed a bit and puffed his cheeks more, “Ill tell you when i can think of one.”

“Mmmmhmmm.” I smirked a bit, Putting my hands on my knees. “Im going to take a shower then chill in my room, I have some work i need to do.”

“Oh, okay.” Val looked up at me.

I got up and went to the bathroom to get a shower. I took my shirt off and looked at my chest. “Damn it.” i mumbled seeing a big hand print bruise on my chest. I turned and looked at my back in the mirror. Some minor bruising on my back. “Mother fucker.”I groaned and took the rest of my clothes on and hopped in the shower. Actually showering didnt take very long, what took long was the hot water felt good on my sore muscles. Turning the water off, i got out and wrapped myself in a towel and dropped one on my head. Going to my room i pulled out a pair of pj pants, drying off and putting underwear back i put the pants back on. I still saw the chain on my waist, and pulled my pants up to cover it, now i looked like a dork. “Fuck it.” I pulled my pants back down and tossed on a shirt. Tying my hair up in a bun on my head, i walked out.

Val looked like he was hunched over a sketchbook and working on something.

“Whatcha doin?” I leaned over and looked at his sketchbook.

“I have to design a logo for my fashion class.” He looked up at me.

“Hm, hows that going?” I asked, looking at the thumbnails.

“Its going, havent made the one i like just yet.” he looked back down at his sketchbook.

“You’ll get there, i have faith in you.” I rubbed his head and turned to go back to the bedroom, “Ganbatte.” I put my hand up and walked out.

“DID YOU JUST SAY GOOD LUCK IN JAPANESE?” Val shouted from behind me.

“I did! So fuckin what!?” I yelled back.

“Do you know Japanese!?” he shouted in response.

“No! I know anime!” I answered him back. I could hear Val laughing from his spot. I pulled out my laptop and set it on my bed, I went and grabbed my camera bag as well and tossed it onto my bed. I walked out of the bedroom and went to see val, “you good?”

He held up his hand with his thumb up, “Im good!”

“Alright, ill see you in the morning then.” I turned back to go to the room.

“Alright, night if you fall asleep.” He replied back.

“Night.” I went and got on the bed, opening my laptop and working on uploading my photos.When they were all uploaded i put my camera away. Sitting on the bed cross legged and my laptop in my lap, i laid back against the wall and shuffled through my photos. Moving the ones i didnt like or where not good photos into its own folder where i keep all the photos i dont like or use. Looking at the ones i liked, i shifted through to crop and edit now. Demyan crawled up onto my shoulder and sat with me and watched.

“Just because you have the weekend off, make sure you do not slack too much.” Demyan spoke for the first time in a few hours.

“I know.” I whispered back, “but ive been a jackass to him, wanna make it up.” i stared at my screen and clicked away at editing.

“You are a villain.” he chuckled lightly.

“Can it, or im not doing what you ask.” I hissed at him.

“Then you will not get stronger.” He sounded like he was smiling. “Why do you think Kenaz and Tsuyoi are stronger than you?”

“Mother fucker cheats, look at my chest.” I pulled my shirt up for demyan to look at, “its not fair hes stupid strong.”

“Hmm, does look like it hurt.” he commented, “but just his magic alone is not what makes him stronger than everyone. He’s close to Kenaz.”

“Like how close?” i asked, looking down at him.

“Close enough to kick your ass.” Demyan chuckled and scuttled down onto my laptop. “You have a powerful ability, you just have to trust me...and i can tell you do not.”

“You dont tell me everything.” I looked down at him as he watched my screen.

“Hm.” he hummed softly, “Maybe you and i will...Hang out one day?”

“How? You’re not natural looking.” I tapped his little head and ran my finger down his back.

“I have my ways pup, i can look human.” He turned to face me, “i just might need to wear your clothes.”

“Aaah, little dude, you’re like way fucking taller than me. Might not fit.” I left demyan alone and went back to work.

“We will make it work.” He crawled back up onto my shoulder.

“Yeah yeah.” I commented back to him and went back to mostly working on my photos. Demyan went off to do his own thing. I finished everything fairly quickly and when i finished all of it I put my laptop back on the floor and laid on my back to sleep.

---

“Adri, its time to wake up!” I heard Val shout from somewhere in a different room.

I groaned and sat up, feeling something small roll off my chest and into my lap. It was a groggy and pissy Demyan who started squeaking at me from my lap. “Heh, I wish you made squeaky toy noises when you hit something.” i scratched his little head and he started hissing at me. Picking him up with one hand, i swung my legs off my bed and stood up, putting demyan on the bed while i put on a tank top and some sweat pants. Grabbing Demyan again, i put him on my shoulder to let him rest and he crawled over to the swoop of my neck and sat there to continue sleeping.

“Good morning!” Val turned to look at me from the kitchen.

“Mornin cupcake.” I yawned and walked over to the kitchen. “Need help?”

“No im almost done.” He smiled “but can you get Aero some milk to drink, she just ate.”

I looked down at the little white fluff ball that sat at Val’s feet and she meowed at me. “Yeah, cmere kitty.” I clicked my tongue and patted my thigh to get her attention. Getting a small bowl out and the milk from the fridge i poured a small amount in for her and set it on the floor for her to eat. She sniffed at it then looked at me then back to the bowl and started drinking it. I leaned over just a bit to drag my fingers down her back to pet her. “You hungry?” I tapped on Demyan who just squeaked and closed his eyes again “Take that as a no.”

“Breakfast is ready!” Val was already putting food on the plates and picked up one and went to the table and set it down, getting back up to fix a drink.

Following after him i grabbed a plate and made a glass of water. “So,” I set my plate down and pulled the chair out with my foot and sat down, “what do you wanna do today?”

“Hmm, I wanted to go look at some clothes today.” val held the end of his fork to his mouth, “is that okay with you?”

“Yeah.” I took a bite of my toast, “I use to go shopping with my sis all the time.”

“Yaay!” He cheered then stopped and blushed abit. “And of course we can go to or do something you wanna do.”

Chuckling lightly, “Cupcake, you dont wanna do the things i do.”

“Oh? Why not?” He looked slightly offended and interested.

“I go do drugs, parties and run from the cops a few time.” I leaned forward putting my elbows on the table. “Does that sound fun to you?”

He sat there and pondered a bit. “No, not really….not at all.”

“Thats what i thought.” I laughed lightly, then took a sip of my water, “but next time i go on a photo trip, ill take you with me to help and hang out.”

“Now that sounds fun!” He smiled brightly again.

We sat and talked for awhile after we finished breakfast. Spent some additional time petting and brushing Aero before we both went to clean up and take showers. Demyan was still sleeping so when i went to take my shower, i put him in his favorite spot in my drawer and opened the window in case he wanted to go out. When both Val and i were ready to head out, we headed to his car because he still didn’t want me driving us around because im a bit of a speed demon.

#ADrian Howell #Magical boys #Oc #OC story

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ramblingsandruminations · 7 years

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When Suicidal Ideation is the norm

All the help in the world becomes a muddy puddle of shitty affirmations, thorned gaslighting, and useless guilt. If one more person tells me "have you tried yoga/deepbreaths/vitamin B..." Ugh. Who am i kidding? This is tumblr, where you can always find somone who says exactly what you are thinking ( #omgmetho #datme #meirl ). Weve all heard the "stop giving advice and atart taking it " speech, we're all likely to have read some post about the "evils" and " abuses" of therapy and inpatient treatment, and I'll bet a paper hat, some vending machine doodad, or some shitty-yet-adorably-hipsterly prize that within 100 reblogs someone links to some news article about "Queer Youth Completes Suicide And We Think You Will Pay Us to Feel Bad About It, Don't Forget To Like, Share, and Subscribe to Trevor Project, Your Reblog Will Save A Life (And Keep Us Relevant For Our Advertisers)." Tomorrow(well, next daylight hours) my 26-year-old depressed college freshman self is going to walk into my schools coubseling office and tell them i never recieved the location for the therapist they reffered me to (true story--Honestly not avoiding treatmwnt, even if it is useless) and request a second referral. Ill sit through some lecture about self-advocacy veiled in "concerned questions" and once again be misgendered, deadnamed, and criticized for giving a fuck (note: commenters looking to describe me with the word "cuck," i see you there, good for you, let me know how that white kkknight holier than thou red pill rage fest dopamine addiction is filling the gaping void of existential dread within you). After that, there is always a small chance they'll see just how depressed i am, and faster than you can say "looney is a word based in misogynistic beliefs of womens mental health and menstrual cycles being unhealthily and unscientifically connected to the moon," ill be fielding questions which boil down to "do you want to kill yourself" and "do you have a plan." By this time in my life, i've gotten pretty used to BSing my way around psychology. All it really takes is knowing that all they can take you on is your word, and nothing else. "Do you want to kill yourself?" they ask, and i reply "*short pause, heavy, short exhale denoting weight and truth* Well, yeah. But quite frankly, suicidal ideation is a part of my everyday life- nothing i do isn't plagued with some form of "i should wrap this mouse cord aroubd my neck and die" or " i wonder if that branch is strong enough to support my weight" or "man, my head hurts, but i bet a bottle or two of ibuprofen could make it stop." For me, its not a question of wanting to die, its a matter of what do i have to live for, and ive been through enough inpatient DBT and group therapy to help me cope, using breathing techniques and self-care tips to push me through the worst of it." This is usually if not always all they need to hear. Sure, im depressed, but anything they could tell me is something i know and am already doing-i sound to them more like a patient leaving inpatient than one entering it. Our hospitals are overfilled, understaffed, prqctucally unfunded; if im "stable" im staying out of their ledger book. Occasionally, they still worry, having one of those "consciences" their peers claim to have lost when a schizophrenic patient tried to bite their ear off, and ask a follow up "but are you sure? You seem distressed, and if you need some help, we are here for you," to which all i have to do is look at them through sad, but strong eyes and say "Thank you, but i have a great support network of friends and of course, my boyfriend. He's fantastic, and one of the most important things to have happened to me. He keeps me on this side of the dirt." A small tired chuckle, and their focus diverts towards affirmations of how good it is to have support, their therapy brains running on autopilot. Then all it needs is some "active" listening, uh-huhs, and compliant assurance that ill keep working on myself to assuage them of any guilt or corncern. Maybe, though, ill tell them the truth, and let them take me in. Three hots and a cot, after all. I'll fight through my dysphoria as they ogle every nook and cranny of my malformed body trying to see if im hiding a weapon or some drugs; I'll continue to insist on a private room and remind them calmly yet firmly that no, i will *not* room with a male, and their lack of knowledge on how to treat a transgender non-binary patient is well behind on proper treatment according to WPATH, the APA, and our state govt. When i get a room, theyll say that i should take as much time as i need to get acclimated, and not worry about what the rwat of group is qorking on, and then contradict themselves within 5 minutes and say i need to go to group, theyre waiting on me. In my fresh new scrubs, ill walk in and within seconds, ill identify how th staff monitors who came in when (usually different colored scrubs based on different halves of the week, and of course, anyone likely to leave within 48 hours wearing "normal" clothes), and see the therapist or doctor talking about emotional management techniques. When i sit down, eeyes will be on me, some with looks of angey jusgemwnt, some with awe and wonder: what could THEY be in for? The group leader will ask me my name, ill state it and my pronouns (to several uncomfortable shifts in the room), and theyll let me know what they were talking about. Ill make a good effort to participate, play along, etc. Someone in the group will be desperate to control the conversation, talking more and more as if this entire experience is just for them- another person will be too dissociated to say anyrhing, despite the doctors attebpts to get them to open up. Already, the cliques will become apparent; humans are aocial creatures, after all. When we leave for the next scheduled activity (either rec or lunch, depending on the time) the docs will be watching me- im on suicide watch, and they expe t me to jump out a window or try and slit my wrists with a paperclip or something. Im not a danger in this regard; ive been threatened with solitary and ECT if i dont comply before- i am their prisoner and i must comply. Within an hour or two of being there, ill be able to notice how well funded they are (or more likely, arent.) The quality of their reading materials; the availability of puzzles abd how well taken care of they appear. Recreation will be the most bare of kindergarden activities; coloring books, maybe a tv with basic cable. A daycare for adults, abd not the cool buzzfeed articles. Someone, probably an addict, will be trying to fanangle their attendee into giving them special treatement- a snack, or an extra smoke break. I'll be sitting in a corner, smirking- the staff arent even an eigth as dumb as this person thinks, and they've seen this type before. They might get something, but itll cost them sour looks from staff and less accommodating treatment with the doctors. After the second hour, we'll have another activity (second group, rec, or maybe "outside time" if its a particularly fancy facility; while the sun will certainly be shining, our feelings of freedom will be dampened by the high fances and walls keeping us from getting away). This is usually wheb the realization sets in that im stuck here for 72 hours plus, and ill be counting them down to stave off boredom. 15-30 minutes in to this third hour, ill be called in to meet tye psychiatrist, fisrt meeting with an attendee to fill out the generic details, then 30-45 minutes of diagnosis before im told ill be put on ab antidepressant, an anxiolytic, and tramodol, a sedative marketed as "something to help me sleep" and "another antidepressant" which makes me laugh every time. Tramodol is the auppressant, the "slow down" drug which helps keep everyobe on a nice, calm level thats safer for the orderlies. Were i violent, id concur; instead, i begin to wonder how long it will take before i no longer feel persistently asleep once i leave. A couple weeks, likely. Hopefully, the food will be good, but not likely 5 star- one place ive stayed had been cooking for us in the break room, sometimes PB&J, sometimes microwaved quesadillas. Maybe theyll have more drink options than coffee, water, and sugar-free koolaid- maybe not. Likely not. Some of us will complain; most of us will know it is a fruitless endeavor. After another group or two, it will be dinner, then wrap up group. We will discuss what progress we think we made today, and be sent to bed after meds are distributed in little paper ketchup cups. Most places wont do the "cuckoos nest" tongue check, but some will, particularly the ones with kleptos and pill ODers. Lights oyt will be around 10 pm, the beds will be plasticky and the blankets thin, and sleep will only cone rhanks to our sedatives. Day two, we'll be woken early, around 6-7, by an orderly checking our blood pressure and body temp. Well all gather in the hallway, rubbing sleep out of our eyes and head to the eating area for breakfast- which loooking back will likely be the best meal of the day, not the least be ause we have access to augar and caffiene. By now, i will likely have made a friend, probably with an older woman or two, and we will enjoy surreptitiously smirking at each other when the teoublemaker patwnt tries to get an omlette or something silly. Someone will start telling fanciful stories dreamed up in the night; talk will eventually turn to who is leaving today. The orderlies will be trying to not look too interested in what we reveal to each other instead of them. They will not succeed in this. Ths first morning they will use as a test of how i deal with frustration. An older nurse will act exasperated, as though taking care of me is a curse she was tasked with. She will try to cut theough any response i give her, and rudely discount anything i try to say, as if accuaing me of lying. Knowing it is coming doesnt help it hurt less. If it overwhelms me, ill be labeled as dramatic- if not, as detached. Sluggish from the new medications, i will be treated as though i ahould not be here, and will be led aroubd more quickly than i am rady to be. I will notice that part of it is that i am beginning to realize how broken down i feel i am. Reaching out will result in canned answers and "the doctor is busy's". After all, this iant about me, and theyve seen my type before. At lunch, i will be upset by the bland meal, abd ask if they have any hot sauce, or maybethey will be out of a preferred tea, or the food will not be enough to feed me. The newcomer who arrived at morning group will share a look with the quiet patient. I will try not to notice the parallels. A therapist will ask to talk to me today. It may be a nice session, but will essebtially boil down to "let me give you ideas for solving your problems, so that your depression seems more managed." By the end of the day, they will already begin my release plan. Theyve fixed me, they are sure. I will also get my clothes back. The aurvey will be slightly different today; instead of asking on a scale of 1-10 with 1 being best abd 10 being worst how was my day, it will be the opposite: scale of 1-10 with 1 being worst and 10 being best. This way, they can track how much is me being honest, and how much is me remembering numbers to fake it. (Once, a nurse messed up so often that it was a sentence by sentence change). Later, if there is any improvement, it will be used by the hospital as signs that treatment is helping; if it gets worse, that i had a rough day and shouldnt think much of it. Bedtime will come, and i will relish it- being sedated takes a lot out of a person. When morning comes, the eggs will feel soggy and cereal with be a much better choice. A bagel will be carried into morning group and more DBT will be discussed. I will mostly be checked out; they are pulling most of their material from a 12 step program, and the leader is a student of psychology learning how to help people, but ive heard it all before, and that sense of guilt just pushes me towards suicide harder. At this point, ill feel just how desperate they are to get me out; nurses eill hint at things being the "wrong" answer with " you dont REALLY mean that, do you sweetie?" and " well, you cant keep thinking THAT way, or we'll have to keep you here longer." Boredom and longing for home will encourage me to pretend to be better, and not tell them how last night before falling asleep i stared at the vedfrane wondering if i could take it apart and form a springwire noose, or tear the blankets to make a rope. When they ask if im feeling better, it will actually mean "are you done with your timeout from reality? Have you learned how to fit in properly yet?" The meds wont really begin having a noticable effect for months- they know im lying. What they hope for is a glimmer of hope and a mountain of guilt for wanting to hurt others by hurting myself. Ill fake those, too. Still, ill be misgendered. Still, theyll blame hormones and buzzfeed rather than neurology and chemistry. After all, im well-adjusted, not at all like the Caitlyn Jenners and Wachowskis they read about on their facebooks. Its just a phase, and im just confused. I didnt try to hurt myself- nothing is *really* wrong with me. What can i do? Try and strangle myaelf, or others? That just means im lashing out, and ill get a new med regime and another 3 days, this time strapped down. Being strapped to a bed and left alone is mind-numbingly boring. If i tell them i still want to kill myaelf, theyll just nod their head and tell me it will go away soon; if i say i have a plan, rheyll keep me playing chess and reading AA papers until i apologize. Their job is not to fix me, their job is to stabilize me and make sure i dont break myself more. The fixing is my responsibility. Day four is release day. They will claim i have made improvements and have me fill out an action plan for when i feel depressed again. It will include people i can call, and ways i can push through bad feelings. It is my exit exam.when i pass, ill be set up with a therapist outside the hospital later in the week, and told how to connect with various resources. They will think i didnt know there were trans support groups. I will think that if it was just a support group i needed, i wouldnt dream of death. Neither of us will admit these things. And so, ill come back to school. Late on homework, i will have to prostrate myaelf with dictors note beggibg for forgiveness. I will get it, more due to policy than empathy, and at the end of the day, i will lay in bed, stare up at the ceiling, and contemplate which of my top three anchor spots would be the best ending to my story. Other than medical bills, nothing will have changed. Life drones on. I think i understand why death seems,so much better. In death, i can pretend there is a solution. In death, i can imagine a cure. In death, i can envision a caretaker and easier existence. It doesnt matter that death is the end of it all- i can pretend it willl be more, and my imagination can create many comforts in that void. But even death is a lie, and nothing will ever stop hurting.

#psychology #depression #inpatient #suicidal ideation #existentialism

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audiovisualrecall · 7 years

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So I'm not going on the trip to the museum even though i want to bc i cant trust my body not to pull some bullshit while I'm on the subway or in the city, and its already 2pm (we have to meet at 3) and im gonna regret not going but I'm afraid id regret going too, and i already told my professor I'm not feeling up to it, so. And I'm afraid i wont feel up to going to the city to make up the trip/assignment (if its possible to anyway) any other day next week either. And i havent started my project proposal yet bc i havent picked a topic yet and i get my prd sometime between this thursday and next week and im probably gonna miss another class and be behind in my thursday class and even though i have the accommodations i dont wanna screw up my grades i like doing well, and if the uh test we're gonna send off to the gastro shows a flare i might have to have more testing like the mre again or worse, or something, and those things will eat up days too...getting ahead of myself but still, I'm unhappy and anxious and blah

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azanycollectormilkshakeworl-blog · 6 years

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If 2 names are on a car title do both those people HAVE to be on the Insurance?

"If 2 names are on a car title do both those people HAVE to be on the Insurance?

If 2 names are on a car title do both those people HAVE to be on the Insurance?

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://saleinsurancequotes.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr