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#tw socks on sand
ganem-ouchie · 2 months
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Gay angst won to autism this round by having Jon, in my mind, walking with SOCKS on SAND.
(process under the cut)
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scarletsaphire · 6 months
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It's @ecto-implosion posting time folks! This is my fic for @pokkeshii, whose (incredible fantastic epic cool) art can be found here. And thank you to @pricklenettle for betaing, I really appreciate it!
This fic is 5 chapters, and will be posted every other day. The images are inserted during the fic, but PLEASE go show keshii the love and admiration she deserves for making this MASTERPIECE IT IS SO COOL!!!
Summary: Danny’s been doing fine. Sure, he has to focus on keeping himself from shaking, and the voice in his head goading him to hurt has been getting louder, but its fine. He’s got it under control. He’s human more than he is ghost, and he has things to fight for. He can’t afford to give in. He won’t give in. He won't.
Danny let his backpack fall to the ground beside him with a thud as he took his seat in the back of the classroom. His shoulders were tensed, his jaw was clenched, and his leg tapped a fast, anxious rhythm, causing his knees to bang against the bottom of the desk hard enough to hurt. Anything to help ease the vibration settled under his skin. It did help. Just a little.
He only had to make it through this class. One more class, and he’d be done with school today. One more class, and he’d be able to do something that actually helped. 
Danny raised his hand to his mouth on instinct, coughing the icy exhale of his ghost sense into his fist and suppressing a groan. He stood up and walked to the door, not bothering to get permission to leave or let the teacher know where he was going. All of the teachers at Casper High had long since given up on keeping Danny in class. Most of them had given up on Danny completely. He didn’t blame them.
The closest room was the janitor's closet, which was locked. That was annoying. He reached his hand through the door. The tingling in his hand got worse as it went intangible, nearly causing his whole arm to vibrate. He grit his teeth harder, and focused on unlocking the door from the inside. That's all he had to do. Unlock the door.
He heard the soft click of lock, and pulled his hand back quickly, dropping his intangibility. He shook it, trying to get the residual tingles out. He kept trying even as he slipped into the dark, musty confines of the janitor's closet, pushing the mop that probably hadn't been used in months out of his way. He stopped shaking his wrist, and braced himself. 
His transformation washed over him quietly. Danny kept his eyes shut tight, his fingers digging into the side of the splintered shelving unit. As he shifted the vibration only got worse, more severe, and his grip tightened until the wood started to crack under his grip. Finally, his transformation finished and the sensation faded away into the normal vibration of his core and a persistent voice in the back of his head. A voice that he would not acknowledge.
Danny still didn't let go of the shelves. He focused on taking breaths he didn't need, pushing that voice further and further back. For a moment, his entire purpose narrowed down to suppressing it. One deep breath in, one deep breath out, and a futile attempt to quiet his mind. 
It took the scream of someone out in the parking lot for him to snap out of his haze. Not a scream of pain, thankfully, but one of joy, calling out Ember’s name. Now that he was focusing, he could hear Ember singing from somewhere outside the school. 
Just because they weren’t hurt yet didn’t mean he could waste time. Every second he waited was another that someone could be in danger. But he couldn't just throw himself into a fight anymore. He needed to prepare himself, or else that voice in his head might get what it wanted. If that started, it wouldn't be a fight Danny could win.
With one last exhale he let go of the cabinet and let his body relax. He couldn't waste any more time. 
Ember was about where he expected to find her; crowd surfing on a small hoard of teenagers and shredding her guitar all the while. 
"You know, for someone who can fly, you'd think you'd be able to stay in tune while crowd surfing."
Ember floated up off the crowd, much to the mind controlled masses disappointment. "There you are baby pop," she said. "Always fashionably late these days. Might as well try not showing up next time."
"And leave you to inflict mediocre half finished songs on these poor people?" Danny crossed his arms and bared his teeth in an almost smile. "Not a chance."
Ember scowled at him, and his smiled widened. Ember was always easy to goad. "Why you little-" she cut herself off by flying up to him,  her hands fluttering over the strings. Danny dodged to the left of the sonic blast she sent his way. He let his body settle into the routine of the fight, and let his mind clear. Even the voice that normally pounded against his skull went quiet. It was satiated. At least for now.
Danny switched his momentum on a dime, twisting back to charge at Ember. She could throw a punch if she needed to, but she always preferred distance. That meant that if Danny wanted to end this fight quickly, he should take advantage of that. " But why would you want it to end early?" The voice whispered. It sounded like him, blending in with the rest of his thoughts. "You always have such a good time. Why cut it short?"  
Ember twisted her guitar around to block Danny's approach, sending out another sonic blast at him. He tried to maneuver out of the way but was pushed back. He managed to stay on his feet- or at least stayed oriented the way he wanted to be. Danny his ectoblasts in his hands, continuing the charge. He launched them both at Ember, but she deflected the first one into a nearby car, the other one whizzing just by her ear. 
Danny was almost close enough to grab her, but she let herself fall back into the crowd still gathered below. Danny cursed, hovering above the heads of the people, glaring down at Ember. "Aw, what's wrong? Still struggle with crowd control?" She strummed her guitar again, and the star struck crowd went from hovering around her to trying to climb on top of each other. She’d used this trick before; they were trying to grab Danny and pull him down.
He needed to separate Ember from her groupies. Even if she hadn't decided to weaponize them, just their presence was boosting her power. Now that she was in the center of them, she was even more of a threat. Getting her out without hurting any of the people was going to be a problem. The one good thing about this situation was that Ember wouldn't hurt the humans herself; injured fans didn't cheer as loud.
"Why worry about it? They're the ones in your way. It would be so simple if you just stopped worrying about them."
Danny let himself float further away, and the crowd stumbled on top of one another as they all tried to follow after him.  Ember stayed behind the group, strumming a cord on her guitar and a wave of sonic energy at him. He dodged it without a thought. Interesting. Just as his plan started formulating, he started talking. "And here I thought you liked being center stage. Just letting all these folks steal your spotlight?" 
"Every good musician has background dancers," Ember said. Another ectoblast was fired Danny's way, and he flew further backwards to avoid it. The crowd continued stumbling after him reaching over each other and trying to grab his boots. 
"They don't seem very background to me," Danny shouted. Another ectoblast, and another few feet backwards. 
"Then we'll call it my opening act. Once they're done with you, I'll be sure to put on a real show. " She laughed and sent a volley of attacks at Danny, pushing him further back. 
As soon as there was a break in the attacks Danny leapt off the ground, flying forward as fast as he could. His legs shifted into a tail behind him, letting him fly even faster. He zoomed over the heads of the crowd, their reaction speed too slow to grab him. The group had been following him as he led them away, creating a nice space between them and Ember. Enough space for him to do what he needed to do.
"Enough space for you to do what you want to do. Stop being such a stick in the mud. Let yourself go a little, let yourself tear her apart, just-"
Ember had enough time to dodge to the side, but he'd expected that. A blast of pure cold left his hands directly towards Ember. The already icy ground was coated in a layer of frost, and Ember hissed as her flame hair flickered from the change in temperature. Danny used the opportunity to skirt around her, transferring his momentum onto the ice. By the time she turned around, Danny had his hand pressed to her side, an ectoblast charged against it.
"Bye." Danny waved, and Ember was sent flying into the side of the school. 
Danny turned towards the school. Ember was sitting in a pile of what used to have been the wall, the foundation of the school visible through the bricks. She was clearly dazed, as she hadn’t bother to try and phase out of the pile yet. This was the perfect chance to end the fight. His hand went to the Fenton Thermos on his belt
"Keep fighting. Prove that you're stronger, prove that you're the best. Show her what happens when someone messes with you, with your territory. She's vulnerable. She's weak. Make her never able to show her face again. Or even better, take her face."
Danny shook his head and uncapped the thermos. Ember was sucked inside, leaving claw marks on the ground as she went. Danny twisted the cap back on. He let himself just one moment to exhale, just one second. He just needed one second. And one second turned to two, and then three.
Unfortunately for Danny, that was too long. Three seconds was enough time for the mind controlled humans to snap out of it, gather their bearings, and see him standing there. As much as he loathed it, Phantom was a celebrity. Now the crowd of people were trying to grab at him of their own volition. All he had to do was turn intangible. All he had to do was fly away. The fight was over, they weren't trying to hurt him. He didn't want to hurt them.
The voice in his head didn't care.
You can stop them with nothing more than a thought. They’re too weak, a threat to what’s yours. You can fix it, get rid of the problem in the blink of an eye.
Danny tightened his fists further. He heard the creaking of metal; he was still holding the Fenton thermos. That wasn't good. He couldn't deal with another fight. Not right now. But you want to. Let her back out. Finish this, properly. Not when he was like this.
It took more effort than he'd care to admit to let his intangibility wash back over him. The act itself was just as easy as ever. The problem was convincing as much of himself as he could that he didn't want to touch these people, let alone hurt them, that he wanted to get away, not hurt attack fight -
Danny flew away, soaring up into the sky and blinking out of vision. Here, floating high enough that he couldn't hear their voices, couldn't feel their grabbing hands, the voice in his head was...manageable. Only a bit more annoying than the buzzing he'd grown so used to. He'd been dealing with it long enough to know that the second he got back near the crowd, or anyone else, it would only get worse. He needed a good place to cool down. He just needed time.
He wanted to go to the school’s roof. That had always been his go to spot, back before the voice got so loud. No one was ever up there, no one could see him, and it had a fantastic view of Amity Park. But he needed to go ghost to get down, and that wouldn’t help him. The bell still hadn't rung for the school yet, but it would soon. Even if the group of people had dispersed, the parking lots were out. So were the bleachers, the soccer field, anywhere inside the school, the front steps...
Danny started flying towards the woods. It was cold out, cold enough that most everyone was wearing winter coats, even if the trees still clung stubbornly to nearly dead leaves. No one would be in the woods in this type of weather. As long as the animals stayed far away from him it would be fine. They probably would. Most animals had been scared of him since the accident. At least now they had good reason to be.
The moment Danny was certain that the trees would cover him, he transformed back. The voice was fainter like that, but still there, whispering in Danny’s head. All that really changed was that  the vibration under his skin had returned, stronger than it had been at any other point today. It shook Danny hard enough for his teeth to start chattering, for his legs to give out underneath him. He didn’t quite enter the fetal position- the voice in his head wouldn’t let him give up that last scrap of his dignity. But he did dig his fingers into the ground until they were nearly completely submerged, and heaved heavy breaths into the earth. His labored breathing wasn’t because of the earlier fight, or the effort of holding back the trembling, or even trying to resist the temptation of the voice. His breathing was labored because he was forcing air into lungs that didn’t need it anymore, forcing organs that had started to forget how to work to remember again. 
Danny choked on every breath, but he didn’t stop. Humans needed to breathe, and Danny was still human. He had to be. 
With no targets around, the voice in his head faded away to a faint whisper, drowned out by the vibrations still rattling his bones. After a few more minutes, that too subsided to a now familiar hum. It was still uncomfortable; Danny refused to ever find it comfortable. But it was manageable. 
He climbed back onto still shaking feet, and started to walk back towards the school. He'd lost track of time, but he was almost certain that the bell had rung by now. Sam and Tucker would have heard the fight and would be looking for him. Danny couldn't afford to be late. Not again.
---
He took a seat on the half wall that lined the teacher's parking lot. No students would be coming that way, and the teachers wouldn't be out for another thirty minutes or so. Danny shot a quick text off to Sam, nothing more than his location. He didn't bother going back for his backpack. One of his friends would grab it; it was routine at this point.
In the few minutes it took for Sam and Tucker to round the corner of the school, the vibration had faded to its normal level. Bothersome, distracting, and just shy of painful, but manageable, and more importantly, something Danny was able to hide.
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Sam tossed the backpack at Danny's feet at the same time he hopped off the small wall. "Thanks for letting us know how it went," she said, crossing her arms.
"It was just Ember," Danny said dismissively. "It's not like it's something we haven't seen before."
"You could at least let us know!" she snapped. "Or come back to class after? I know you had time, but no. You have to ditch us, and everyone else, just like you're always doing lately."
"I am not ditching you," Danny lied. It came out far sharper than he intended. "Tucker, back me up."
Tucker pulled a face. "You know I've always got your back, dude, but... well, Sam is right. You have been disappearing after fights. Even when its just us. We've talked about it before."
"Oh, so what, I'm not allowed to take some time to recover?" Danny said.
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Sam took a deep breath, exhaling in a puff of cold air. "You can recover with us. Do you have any idea how hard it is to deal with everything when you just take off and leave? We're worried-"
Danny cut her off. "Oh, it's hard for you? Newsflash, I'm the one who takes the hits. I'm the one who gets thrown into walls. I'm the one who has to fight-" Danny cut himself off. He couldn't mention the voice, couldn't mention any of it. "If its so hard for you, than maybe you should just quit."
"Danny, that's not what we-" Tucker started, but Sam talked over him.
"Quit? You're asking us to quit because we're worried about you?" Sam said. "Do you even hear yourself right now?"
"Yeah, I do," Danny retorted. "I know what I'm saying, just like I know what I'm doing. Or are you going to try and say that I'm doing that wrong too?"
"I'm not saying that you don't know what you're doing!" Sam shouted. "I'm saying that you should at least tell us! We're your friends, Danny!"
"I don't need to tell you shit," Danny spat back. "If you were my friends, you'd understand that."
"Danny, Sam, please-" Tucker tried again.
"Oh, so we're not your friends now?" Sam pressed forward, crowding Danny’s vision. "Fine then! You clearly don't want us around anymore, so we will quit. When you realize just how shit you do without us, let us know." She grabbed Tucker by the arm, walking back to the school. "Come on, Tuck. We're going home."
Tucker looked between Sam and Danny rapidly, clearly conflicted. Danny waited for him to do something, anything, but by the time they reached the walkway at the end of the parking lot, Tucker was walking of his own accord. All Danny got was an apologetic look.
Danny bent down and swung his backpack over his shoulder with a thud. He didn't know why he expected anything. It was a miracle they'd stuck with him as long as they had. But it was fine. Danny was fine.
He couldn't afford not to be.
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sinsinsininning · 4 months
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Maybe a fluffy Eustass Kid x reader where reader is also missing a limb? Idk I just think it’d be cute for them to take care of each others shared struggles😭 ((fantom pain, still being able to feel their limb, etc))
Awww that’s kinda sweet!
Ok upon reflection I realized that this came out more angsty than intended but it’s fluffy to me 😢
I showed this to a mutual and they said “that’s so sad” and I had no clue I was like what 😀?
I hope you like this
TW: vague body horror, amputations, panic attacks, drinking, crying
—————
“Stop crying,” Kid pinches your ear lightly, no real malice in it. “People will notice. You don’t want that yeah?” He’s right, you don’t want that not here in this dingy bar, but you can’t stop the shaky breathes you take as you try to will the tears away.
“It hurts.” You gasp out finally, you’re not sure how he hears you despite being tucked away from most of the noise. “It hurts and it shouldn’t.” You feel like your leg is on fire, the leg you’d lost not so long ago, the stitches finally gone but your mind rejected that memory.
Kid doesn’t say anything, his gaze sweeps over the crowd as you shiver and whine quietly beside him. Finally he jumps up, yanking you with him. If anyone notices you tucked awkwardly under his arm they don’t speak up, your face is obscured by his luscious coat. You felt the cold night air before you realize you’re outside now, he doesn’t set you down as he heads for the ship.
You grasp his shirt and shudder hard again as he veers off from the path, going towards the sand and water instead the docks. The burning, tingly feeling in your not leg keeps you from asking him anything. Finally he stops, without setting you down he manhandles you in front of him, at any other time you’d be dizzy at the sight of his one hand easily holding you up, but not tonight. Kid yanks your false leg off with his own metal arm, the sensation of the wire nerve connectors separating was unpleasant but not painful. It gives you a weird respite from the burning and you’re able to squeak out a ‘what’.
“Keep still, gonna make it turn off.” He grunts and steps closer to the water, you can feel the ocean licking at your one set of toes as you whine and try to squirm away. He glares at you and dunks your legs into the water.
You shriek, both in surprise and discomfort, the water is cold and soaks through your sock and shoe, he shoves you until the water covers your amputation site. It’s jarring and uncomfortable, but the burning you felt slowly fades away as you’re overwhelmed but the cold. You claw at his arms futilely, knowing he’d let you up when he was done, whenever that is.
After several uncomfortable hours minutes, Kid finally pulls you out. You cling to him as he carries you back up the shore, grabbing your prosthetic leg as he goes. You don’t want to cry, not again, in front of him again, but the tears returns regardless.
It’s different this time, it’s relief, beholden, as if your gratitude is melting from your eyes. You want to thank him, but it’s useless, he’d never accept it. His duties as a captain, as your captain, are vast and unknowable. So you hiccup into his neck as he takes you onto the ship, to his- your- room.
He doesn’t coddle you as he finally sets you down, resting you gently on the edge of the bed. You slump into the blankets, exhausted and dizzy. Kid eyes watch you for a moment, like he can’t quite decide what to do with you, finally he moves about the room, oddly quiet as he puts things away for the night.
“Sorry, Boss.” Your voice is hoarse as you speak your first real words since the bar.
“Shuddup.” He says quickly, but there’s no bite, not after all this time. You watch as he takes his coat off, it takes effort to keep your head lifted but you want to watch him. You always do.
His belt is off next, as is his shirt, he doesn’t comment on your staring. He’s probably used to your starry eyes on him doing the most benign tasks. His metal arm is next, his face is tight when he disconnects is, but he doesn’t make a noise, setting to gently next to your leg.
“Do you feel them too?” You ask quietly, it’s maybe the most personal thing you’ve ever asked him. Neither of you pry, everything you know about each other is offered.
“Not much anymore.” He says, your not shocked at his answer, just that he gave it up so easily. Even mundane questions turn into a battle of shouts with him. “It goes away with time, I think.” He says with finality, yanking his boots off next.
You think it’s sweet he’s trying to console you.
“I think it’s cause my captain is so tough.” You say as sweetly as you can manage, head finally lolling back against the blankets. He likes when you say that, my captain, something you save for moments when he won’t let you say everything you feel.
Kid crashes in the bed next to you, which causes you to squeak and swat at him. He laughs and yanks you up the bed to rest properly again the pillows, it feels wonderful but you still try to sit up.
“I should shower.” You say struggling to roll out of his grip.
“Nah, morning will do.” He yanks you back to him.
“I stink.”
“No you don’t and even if you did I don’t fucking care.”
“I should at least change.” You relent, but he still rolls his eyes.
You try to sit up again, but he just pulls you closer to disrobe you, fighting your squirms and attempts at self reliance. Finally your clothes and shoe are off and he’s tugging the many blankets over you bodies. You burrow into his side, he’s warm and loose, moments like these make breathing easier for you.
“Thank you.” You’re pushing your luck with him tonight, but you can’t help but milk the moment a little more.
“Told ya to zip it.” His voice is a rumble against your cheek and you smile, he could probably feel it too. “I’m always gonna take care of ya, but you gotta keep it down. I gotta reputation to keep.”
You sigh and hum at him, digging further into his hold, his shoulder warms your cold nose as you drift off.
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haeseolar · 4 months
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where the sky kisses the waters
kinnporsche - merman!porsche
rated G, 2.4k words
twitter / based on this fan art
tw: mentions of kinn grieving and mourning his mother's passing.
----
It isn’t often that Kinn comes to the beach. 
The ocean always reminds him of his mother, who would clumsily walk across the uneven sand in her sandals until she reached the shore, the skirt of her sundress rippling in the wind as she gazed out into the distance. She always felt so far away in those moments, trapped inside her own mind as she watched the waves and felt the cold salt water wash up over her feet. Kinn would be left to stand beside her in silence, having learned that until she snapped out of it, there was no getting through to her.
There were many times Kinn thought this would be their last beach trip where they’d travel all the way from Bangkok in his mother’s car, racing away under the anonymity of night with the sunrise pulling back the veil to welcome them when they reached their destination. Kinn knew his father knew, and his mother knew, too, but it didn’t stop them. Each time, when his mother shook him awake, whispering conspiratorially and shushing him with a finger over her lips and a glint in her eyes, he expected it to be the time they finally left.
It never was time to leave. Not even when Kinn’s mother died, or when Tankhun was too sick to take over as the head of the family, and not even when Kinn went through the worst betrayal of his life. It just never seemed like the right time, or enough to warrant such a decision. And so Kinn stayed, living the life that his father had crafted for him, forcing him to be everything he wasn’t - all for the sake of the family. 
He felt the scorned gazes of a thousand people, all watching and waiting for him to fuck up, to crumble under the weight of their debts and his misdeeds. Everyone relied on him, one way or another, for good or bad reasons, but he had no one to turn to. He was responsible for their lives, their wages, and their futures, and he had the power to end it all or get into a position where it was done for him. Their loyalty knew no bounds, and he saw it, he felt it: the way they’d bow and reverently refer to him as Khun Kinn no matter how nasty he became, or how warped time and stress made him. He’d hear their whispers, reminiscing about the ‘old Khun Kinn’, acting as if he was once their saving grace.
This wasn’t his burden to bear. He knew that. His father knew that. His brothers knew that. But they didn’t hold out a hand, or offer him a lifeline.
As the sun rises on the horizon, the sky and the ocean becoming one, warm hues of reds and yellows changing into cool blues and greens, he understands why his mother would get lost in her thoughts here. 
The ocean air is salty and makes him cringe as he adjusts, but once he’s settled it’s the freshest thing he’s ever smelled. He breathes it in, feeling his lungs expand around the oxygen, the toxins expelling as he breathes it all out again. Kinn allows the wind to carry it away for him, his eyes following a random route as he imagines his worries being taken away and becoming the universe’s problem rather than his. 
There’s nothing sensible in his attire, kitted out in his specially tailor-made suit, his dress shoes hanging on the tips of his fingers by their heels with his socks stuffed inside them. But there’s no one here - no one watching him, or waiting, or relying on him to do anything at all. It’s the most relaxed he’s felt in months, maybe even years.
It’s been so long since he allowed himself to come back to the beach his mother used to take him to and to relish in the sights he’d only ever seen with her by his side. There’s an innate thing inside him that has been tugging him forward, beckoning him towards the beach, a voice in his head telling him that something is there, waiting for him. As the days passed by, the urge got stronger and more powerful until it took over his whole being until this morning, where he couldn’t sleep and finally snuck away to escape and to answer the ocean’s call.
Somehow, it’d been easier than he thought it would.
Where his mother’s ghost follows him with every step, feeling the warm brush of her arm against his, or the gust of wind that blows by sounding like her voice calling out his name, it doesn’t hurt as much as it once would’ve done. His heart pangs, his stomach in knots, but it feels right being here. 
“Mae,” Kinn whispers, just to feel the way it feels on his lips again. It feels foreign, and clunky in his mouth, but it eases the pain in his chest for a moment. A waft of her soft, floral perfume permeates the air, and as soon as he smells it, it’s gone again.
Kinn’s eyes fall closed. He scrunches them up, massaging his temple as bursts of colour and shapes form on the back of his eyelids from the pressure. He’s almost thirty, and here he is, acting like the timid, soft-hearted boy he can never become again. He should go home, turn around and dust off the sand sticking to his feet and in between his toes. He should forget about this for good and move on, just like his father always tells him to.
You’re so stuck in the past that you can’t see what’s right in front of you, Kinn. His father would say, giving him a cold, pitying look as he then would say: Checkmate, leaving Kinn with nothing left on the chessboard to move with.
Kinn ruffles his hair, and then slicks it back again, hoping that the wax he put in it this morning before he left does its job and puts it back into place. Where the cool, salty tang of the morning breeze and the ocean lapping at his ankles was soothing, it’s now too much. Goosebumps ripple across his arms and make him shiver, the shifting granules of sand washing back and forth across his skin are like tiny knives slicing their way through, so he steps back, out of the water’s reach, sinking into the sodden ground as it gives beneath his weight.
One step back, two more, then three, and the sand becomes dry again, warming in the sun that’s drifted higher in the sky. 
He should leave. There’s nothing here for him anymore, nothing but a ghost and an unfulfillable dream. There’s so much more he should do - he should be a filial son, a cold-hearted businessman, and a strong leader.
Kinn sighs, glancing around the area one last time, making peace with as much as he can right now. It’s a small, private area that’s set apart from the main beach by the rocky terrain that surrounds it, cocooning him in with small coves and uneven surfaces. There’s technically no entrance to it, you just have to be brave and curious enough to scale up the dunes and down the rocks. He’s not sure how his mother found this place and the realisation that he’ll never be able to ask her hurts. Because he wants to know. He wants to know how she got here, why she always brought him along and allowed him to share her space when she so clearly wanted to run away from it all. She didn’t have to do any of that, and yet she did. 
But she always took him back. She never would've known that her death would lead to a cold, lifeless house with a traumatised Khun, an angry Kim, a husband and father who lost any form of warmth along with her passing. And Kinn - her dear son, who was lonely and barely keeping his head above water regardless of how much he tried. 
Maybe coming here was a bad idea, after all. 
Kinn turns to leave, the sun warming his back, but then there’s a splash and a chirping noise coming from behind him. 
He glances over his shoulder, expecting a seagull, but instead, he’s faced with a pair of light brown eyes watching him from a few metres away in the ocean. Kinn gasps, twisting and stumbling back as he eventually loses his balance, falling right on his ass. 
The eyes watch him, eyebrows raising in question. Kinn can’t fully see the person they belong to, his head mostly submerged in the water, but he can make out loose, dark curls that stick to his wet skin, some strands floating on the water’s surface. 
“What the fuck?” Kinn exclaims, panic seizing his whole body. He curls his fingers into the sand, taking fistfuls of it to try and steady himself.
The person in the water responds with another sound that suspiciously sounds like a laugh, and begins swimming towards him until the water goes lower and lower, slowly exposing his features and body. The man’s skin is rich and tanned, glowing and reflecting the sunlight. It emits an unearthly glow around him, like a halo, but it only brightens him instead of casting shadows. His features are delicate, pretty, almost feline with the soft curve of his eyes, his nose and the full pout of his lips. They’re so pink, even from this far away, Kinn can still see. He can see how beautiful the man is, how otherworldly he seems, moving through the water like it’s a part of him, the waves gently encouraging him forward as the ocean obeys his every command. 
The curls fall around him as they leave the water, clinging to his skin and droplets cascading down his bare chest. Kinn can’t help but watch the path of one, following it all the way from the point of his chin and down the slope of his neck, down, past the curve of his pecs and the flatness of his stomach, all the way to his - 
Kinn’s breath catches in his throat. 
“You have a tail.”
A beautiful, prismatic blue one. Each scale shifts in colour, an iridescent sheen glossing over them, but they remain varying shades of blue. They go lighter, darker, pastel and deep, royal and fantastical. The man - merman? Kinn’s brain corrects, and comes to a stop, lying on his front with his tail kicked up behind him. The large fin at the end sways back and forth, almost like a cat’s when it’s curious. 
The merman’s head tilts to the side, now propped up on his palm. Kinn’s eyes catch more blue scales winding their way up and around his neck and face, patches of them marking his skin. 
“You don’t remember me?” The merman questions, his voice light and melodic. 
Kinn wants to crawl forward, to lean into it, make the stranger keep talking to him like he’s singing a song that will lull him to sleep. He craves it, his stomach bottoming out, his arms shaking and knees becoming jelly.
“Should I?” Kinn asks in place of that, shoving the urge down. He’s acting on autopilot, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can even think twice about it.
He’s dead. Or hallucinating, or maybe both. 
“Yes,” The merman pouts and Kinn’s heart stumbles, his pulse quickening. “You’re Kinn.”
The way his name is spoken sounds like a poem, a well of feeling and emotions that Kinn could never possibly hope to define, the slight twang of an accent to it, the harshness of the k into the soft, breathy n sound at the end tells a whole story he’s not privy to. But he wants to know. 
“Who are you?” Kinn asks, his voice breaking on the second word.
“Porsche,” he replies, along with an eye roll, as if Kinn was stupid to ask.
“Porsche?” Kinn repeats incredulously, not expecting the name. It sounds too modern, too human, and nothing like what he would’ve guessed a creature he once believed fictional to have attached to him.
Something in Porsche’s eyes changes. His tail stops moving, his posture tensing.
“You really don’t remember,” Porsche says quietly, looking down at his reflection in the low tide.
“I don’t even know what’s going on!” Kinn replies sharply, the dampness of the sand seeping through his trousers and making this whole ordeal even more uncomfortable. “Why - how am I supposed to know you?”
Porsche glances up at him, his expression neutral. But then he smiles. It’s wide, making his eyes crinkle and his flushed cheeks bunch up. His eyes glitter, and the beautiful browns in his irises crescendo around Kinn like harsh waves crashing against the rocks. It completely and utterly disarms him, all the barriers and uncertainty and grief that possess him are lifted away, and the next breath he takes feels like he’s finally above water.
“It doesn’t matter,” Porsche replies, the smile never once dimming despite the anguish in his tone. 
Kinn feels as if all the lights in the world have been shut off, leaving him in pitch-black darkness.
“It does,” Kinn says quickly, finally able to make his limbs move. He crawls forward, not caring that he’s ruining his suit and that seashells and rocks are cutting into his palms as he approaches Porsche. “What if I want to get to know you? Again?”
Kinn stops when the water is up to his wrists and soaking his shins and calves, when he’s within reaching distance of Porsche. He’s even more stunning up close, a feat that Kinn didn’t think could be possible. Porsche looks up at him through his eyelashes, beads of water clinging to the tips of them, cobwebs of dew connecting them all.
He can tell Porsche is assessing him, and he lets him. He allows this stranger, this mythical creature, this Porsche to look at him as much as he wants. He doesn’t care what Porsche sees - if he sees a weak man, a lost man, a lonely man or a desperate man trying to cling to the first thing that sparks something deep inside him. This could all be a trap, a dangerous siren coming to shore in hopes of luring Kinn into the depths with him, but it’s not a shock to him when he realises that he wouldn’t mind that. 
Porsche sighs, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
And then there’s a hand reaching out for him, cupping his cheek, reeling him in until their lips collide and splashes of colour and memories bloom in his brain, filling out the gaps and crevices of things that he’d long lost: a friend, a lover, his Porsche.
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aceopmari · 2 years
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Mei Terumi x Hot & Popular Daughter Reader Part 2: The 5 Kage Summit
A/N: I have fun making the first part! I just had to make a part two with scenes from the Kage Summit Arc! Hope you enjoy!
Masterlist
PART 1
TW: Fluff, suggestive themes, reader is now 18.
Taglist: @ppg-artss @lovelygeniegirl1012 @mercymccann @kakeisumire @aoi-ajisai @mechmoucha @barbellina @nightingaleflow @bonchin @awhore4uchiha @havrlie
Featured characters: Mei, Ao, Chojuro, Naruto, Choji, Rock Lee, Ino, Hinata, the Kages, the Sand siblings, Sasuke, Suigetsu, Karin, Jugo, Orochimaru.
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💄You sat in your room as you stared at your pile of love letters that were sent to you by men all over the world.
💄Now that you were single again, it was free real estate for men to try their luck with you again. The boys in your class asked you out, there were more attempted kidnappings by obsessed Hidden Mist thugs, and of course the many love letters sent by men all over the world.
💄You decided to read the ones from the Hidden Leaf that came with chocolates. The first letter reeked of sweat and gym socks.
‘Y/N Terumi, please marry me! You are an angel sent from heaven! I’m willing to do 2000 squats, 5000 push ups, and 9000 jumping jacks to prove myself worthy! Please accept my love!’
-Rock Lee
💄You sweatdropped. ”That’s a bit much don’t you think?” You took one bite of the chocolate and made a face. “Yuck! This is one of those cheap brands!” You toss the chocolate and Lee’s note in the trash next to you before moving on to the next letter. It smelled like chips.
‘Let’s go out sometime! We can go out for pork fried dumplings if you’d like! I’ll even share some potato chips with you!’
-Choji Akimichi
💄You deadpanned. Not only that, but the candy bar was half eaten. You hurled them both into the trash. “Cheapskate!”
💄You picked up another letter that smelled like flowers. ‘Ino’ was written on it. You raised an eyebrow. “Huh? I didn’t know she swung that way…” Curiosity got the best of you as you find yourself opening the letter.
‘I’m going to EXPOSE you, bitch! I know you cheated in this years Miss Ninja Universe Pageant! I should have won that crown AND that free vacation to the Hidden Steam! ME! Just admit it already, Y/N! You’re a phony!’
-Ino Yamanaka
💄You threw your head back and laughed as tears flew out of your eyes. “Girl is OBSESSED! So in denial!” You turn to your shelf seeing the many Miss Teen Ninja and Miss Ninja Universe crowns and trophy’s. You smiled at the photo of you in a yukata minidress, accepting an award from Lady Tsunade. “I won those contests fair and square.”
💄You toss Ino’s letter in the trash and pick up another one from Hinata before opening it. The letter smelt like sweet perfume.
‘Hello Y/N. I hope you are doing well. I heard that you were looking for a new husband. I know things didn’t go well on your first date with my cousin Neji, but it would mean a lot if you would give him another chance. Please give it some thought.’
-Hinata Hyuga
💄You smiled a bit. You thought it was sweet of Hinata to give her cousin a chance of love. However… “I’m not gonna go out and marry someone who thought it was OK to call me a slut. He had his chance,” you hissed before threw the letter in the trash.
💄Hinata was definitely the nicer Hyuga. You remembered meeting her during at your first Miss Teen Ninja pageant. She was shy but cute and very sweet towards you despite the fact that she lost. Overtime you two became closer and Hinata took you out for cinnamon rolls.
💄”Maybe I’ll invite her to my next party,” you smiled. You then pick up another letter and open it. “Alright just one more for the day…”
‘Hi Y/N. Nice to meet ya! I’m Naruto! So listen, I’m not too experienced on this sort of thing but I think you’re really pretty and I’ve heard pretty cool stuff about you too! I’d like to get to know you and see what you’re all about, you know? There’s this cool place in the Hidden Leaf called Ichiraku Ramen! It’s really good and I’d love to take you out sometime!’
-Naruto Uzumaki, the man who will become Hokage. BELIEVE IT!
💄You found yourself giggling. The letter sounded so endearing, genuine, and cute. It was nice to see that a guy genuinely wanted to get to know you and see you beyond just your looks. And on top of that, it came with a Snickers candy bar. Your favorite!
💄”Maybe I will give him a chance!” You smiled. You quickly down the snickers bar and got to work on your letter.
‘Dear Naruto, nice to meet you too! I really liked your letter! And thanks for the yummy candy bar! You sound like a lot of fun! I’d love to go out with-‘
💄You stop writing and frowned. You weren’t ready to date again even after all this time. The truth was, you still harbored feelings for your previous love.
💄You dug into your cleavage and pulled out a silver heart shaped locket. You opened it. Inside it was a a picture of your former fiancé Suigetsu. He had a toothy smirk and a wink that made your heart melt.
💄After Suigetsu was captured by Orochimaru, you became lonely and depressed. You had your mom by your side, but it still didn’t change the fact that you still missed your love.
💄You sighed sadly. “Oh Suigetsu, where are you?”
💄You seduced the bar owner downtown and managed to rent out the space for your latest party. After sending out hundreds of invites to your friends and getting a band together, you all partied that night at the bar.
💄Parties were a way to get your mind off things. Given that you were popular in school, everyone loved to come to your parties and how chaotic they got.
💄You were currently on stage with your band. You were scantily clad in a f/c bikini that was covered by a fishnet cropped tank and a matching fishnet miniskirt and f/c heels. You held a mic and tapped your foot to the beat of the drums and the strum of the guitar before you started singing ‘LOVERS’.
“Kimi wa ima namida nagashita! Nakijakuru kodomo no you niiii…”
“Tatoe asu ga mienaku natte mo mamoru yoooooo…”
💄As the beat dropped, you shot a finger up in the air as you posed.
“Natsu no sora miagete nirandaaaa!”
💄The crowd cheered as you started dancing on the stage to the strumming of the guitar. Your friends all danced with you while they raised their drinks in the air.
“Tsuyogatte bakari de namida wa misenaiii!”
“Hontou wa kowai kuse niii…”
💄You jumped onto another part of the stage that had a pole and started to dance with it as you sang. The crowd cheered even louder as you grinded on the pole.
“Taisetsu na mono woooooo!”
“Ushinawanu you niiii!”
“Hisshi de hashiri nukete kita…”
💄You reach your hands to touch the fanboys in the crowd. All of them had hearts in their eyes as you touched them. Some even passed out after you winked at them.
💄You couldn’t help but feel a little sad as the lyrics made you feel about your love for Suigetsu and the tears that came after his disappearance.
“Itsudatte nagai yoru wo!”
“Futari de norikoetaaaa!”
“Kono mama isshoni iru kara tsuyogatte nai de…iin da yoooo…”
💄You hadn’t noticed that Ao had walked into the bar after hearing the source of loud music. He was absolutely flabbergasted at the sight of the hundreds of underaged youth partying and drinking at a bar past midnight.
💄That was when he saw you singing and pole dancing on stage. His jaw dropped. “Oh my god!” On one hand he was amazed at the sound of your beautiful voice, on the other he couldn’t believe what you had done. But then again this wasn’t the first time you threw a wild party. But a pole dance? A pole dance?! What on earth were you thinking?! Why were you dressed like that?!
💄He gasped seeing how three boys jumped on stage to start dancing close to you. You grinded on one of them as you sang. Ao shook his head. “The youth these days…” He looked around to find an electrical source to unplug the music speakers.
“Kimi wa ima namida nagashita! Nakijakuru kodomo no you niiii…”
“Tatoe asu ga mienaku natte mo mamoru yoooooo…“
💄That was when the lights went out. You stopped singing and looked around in confusion as you heard the disappointed and confused murmurs in the crowd. ”PARTY’S OVER!” You heard a familiar voice shout. You widened your eyes, knowing who it was. “Oh no…”
💄Ao covered you in his robe to prevent wandering eyes from seeing your skin. He carried you as he dragged you home.
💄”Let me go, Ao!” You cried as you squirm in his grasp but his grip was too tight. “Partying and pole dancing half naked at a bar at 2 in the morning?! And on a school night?! Just wait til your mother hears about this!” Ao scolded. He shook his head. “The youth today have no discipline!”
💄”I’m 18! I’m grown! You’re not the boss of me anymore old man!” You say as you bang a fist into Ao’s back. “Doesn’t matter how old you are. You’re still my responsibility, Y/N.” Ao says.
💄You both finally made it back to the mansion. Ao set you down. You growled a bit when he shoved you inside. Mei had a shocked expression on her face upon seeing you. “Caught this one partying half naked at a bar,” Ao said.
💄Mei rushed over to you and cupped your cheeks. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “Oh baby! I was so worried! Why are you drinking? Where did I go wrong?” You sighed. You hated making your mother worry. “Mommy, I wasn’t drinking.”
💄Mei let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” Ao scoffed. ”Could’ve fooled me,” You glared at him. “I am completely sober! I was just having fun and all you do is ruin everything!”
💄”’Having fun?’ I can’t imagine what would have happened if I hadn’t dragged you out of that bar! Just how many parties are you going to keep throwing until your satisfied, Y/N?!” Ao yelled.
💄”Well maybe I wouldn’t have to go to a bar if you let me throw parties here at the mansion again,” you snapped. Ao narrowed his eyes at you. “Need I remind you the hot tub incident?”
💄You went into deep thought as you recalled your engagement party with Suigetsu. The two of you slipped away from the crowd and entered Mei’s master bathroom where you peeled off each other’s clothes and fucked in the large bubbly hot tub.
💄Things got more playful from there when Suigetsu used his great water arm technique to spank you. He accidentally slammed the tub walls causing the tub to crash through several floors down, exposing you both to the crowd.
💄It was good thing the bubbles censored your modesty, but it didn’t change the fact that you were embarrassed over being caught. Ao was disgusted and Mei was furious. She grounded you for a month and banned you from throwing parties at the house.
💄You couldn’t help but giggle and blush at the memories. Suigetsu ALWAYS knew how to show you a good time. Ao raised an eyebrow. “You think this is funny?!” You snap out of your thoughts and glared at him. “I think it’s funny how you think you can tell me what to do. I’m old enough! I can do what I want!”
💄”I knew that Hozuki boy would be a bad influence on you! He’s nothing but trouble,” Ao said. You crossed your arms defiantly. “Well maybe I like trouble!”
💄”You are nothing but a spoiled brat! Your mother raised you better than that and you’re dragging her reputation through the mud! If you’re so grown up then start acting like an adult and stop behaving like an out of control teenager!” Ao snapped. You growled. “SCREW YOU, AO! YOU’RE NOT MY DAD!”
💄”Young lady! That’s enough!” Mei yelled. You stared at her completely stunned. She had a stern glare trained onto you as she raised a finger. “Ao’s right, you’ve gotten too far, Y/N. No more wild parties!” You pouted. “But mom…”
💄”Not another word,” Mei said sternly. You held your tongue. You knew better than to talk back to your mom, considering how scary she was when she was angry.
💄A calm and happy smile returned back to her face. “Now then. I wanted to let you know that The Five Kage Summit is coming up soon.” Your eyes lit up. If Mei was leaving, then that would mean you could throw several parties without her knowing. “Really? When are you leaving?”
💄”We’re leaving tomorrow. All of us!” Mei said happily. You widened your eyes. “What?! Why do I have to go?”
💄”It’s to educate you on international shinobi relations. And keep you from rebelling against your mother by partying again,” Ao said. You blushed as you glared at him. You hated how him being a sensory type gave him the ability to see right through you. “I-I-I wasn’t gonna throw any parties!”
💄You turned back to Mei, giving her puppy dog eyes. “Mommy, I don’t wanna go to the Summit. I wanna stay here and part-I mean…play and go out with my friends.”
💄Mei pouted as she gave you puppy dog eyes of her own. “I won’t feel as strong without my beautiful and amazing daughter by my side to protect me. You’ll come too, won’t you baby?” Your cheeks flushed. You were no match for those puppy dog eyes.
💄You sighed. “F-fine, I’ll go.” Mei smiled. “Good! Now give mommy a kiss!” Your cheeks flushed a deeper red as Mei pouted her lips. Your mom had always been affectionate but you felt as though you were too old for her kisses.
💄You knew that she would get all sad and depressed if you didn’t show her affection. You sighed before leaning in close to give Mei a peck on the cheek.
💄”Mwah~”
💄Mei’s cheeks flushed. “Aww! You’re so sweet!” She pulled you in close and gave you lots of kisses. “Mom! Stop it…” you whined as kiss marks start to stain your face.
💄Mei stopped with the kisses and pulled you into a hug. You smiled and hugged back. Nothing was better than your mothers love. “And Honey?” She asks. “Yes mommy?” You say. “You’re grounded for a month,” Mei said kindly.
💄The following morning, you, Mei, Ao, and Chojuro were ready to set off, but not before being seen off the the village elder and the other villagers. You finished applying some lipstick for the first time as you stared at your compact. Mei said you could start wearing lipstick the moment you turned 18. You loved how shiny and plumper your lips looked.
💄You saw in your mirror how Ao was staring at you disapprovingly. You knew he didn’t like how you were wearing lipstick. You rolled your eyes and ignored him as you didn’t want to start trouble in front of the people. After all, image was everything.
💄”Chojuro, how’s my makeup?” You whispered to him. Chojuro blushed. “Oh um…l-looks good, Lady Y/N.” You giggled. It was so cute seeing him all flustered.
💄”We entrust the honorable Mizukage to your care.” One shinobi said. “Make sure the Mizukage doesn’t overdo it.” Another said. “I know I will,” Ao said.
💄”Lady Y/N, be strong and remain diligent for Lady Mizukage’s sake,” another shinobi said. You give the villagers your most charming smile as you winked. “Always have, always will~” you sang.
💄The villagers and even the Elder blushed at that. They all thought you were so alluring and beautiful. Ao rolled his eyes. He didn’t like how you used your feminine wiles to get through to people.
💄The Village Elder approached Mei with the blue headgear. She took it. “Thank you very much!” Mei stood strongly snd proudly. “Lord Great Elder, by my title of Mizukage, I’ll fulfill my duties with brilliance!”
💄You smiled in admiration at Mei. She was such a kind and strong leader. “As one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, protect Lady Mizukage well, Chojuro,” a shinobi said.
💄”Uh, yes sir…all four of us should be just fine…well I hope…” Chojuro said nervously. You sighed as you turned to him. “We’ve got to work on that confidence, Cho.”
💄Mei nodded in agreement. ”Y/N’s right. You’re very strong! After all, that’s why I chosen you to accompany me to the Summit. Kay, Chojuro?” Chojuro smiled a bit. “Um, yes m’am. I’ll do my absolute best…well I hope…”
💄You smirk at him. “Don’t say ‘I hope’ say ‘I will!’” You say as you give Chojuro a playful hip bump. Chojuro was startled at the sudden contact. His cheeks flushed a deeper red as he chuckled nervously. “Oh! Heh heh…I-I will! Y-You can count on me Lady Y/N! I’ll protect you too!”
💄You winked at him. “That’s the spirit!” ‘Shes so kind and beautiful…just like her mother. If only I could tell Y/N how I feel…’ Chojuro thought.
💄”’Yes m’am’ is all you should say. That spineless attitude is useless,” Ao hissed. You glared at him. “Stop being so mean to Chojuro!” Ao sighed. “You’re a prime example. The youth these days are all made weakness…”
💄You flinched at the triggering word. It was already too late as Mei’s eyes had already darkened. You sweatdropped. “Um…mommy? Are you okay?” You whispered to her. Mei remained silent. ‘Crap, I gotta think of something to calm her down,’ you thought.
💄”Ao, enough with the lecturing! Now get moving or you’re going to be late,” the Village Elder said. Your face went blue at his words. ‘Oh no!’ You turned back to Mei who’s eyes started to get darker.
💄You instantly got behind her and rubbed her shoulders a bit. “Hey, how bout a quick massage before we go, mommy? Try to calm down, okay?” You say with a nervous smile.
💄”My lectures good advice,” Ao began. “Why back in my day…” You looked at him with panic. ‘No Ao! Don’t say that!’ You mentally shrieked.
💄You shrieked out loud when Mei coldly shrugged your hands off her shoulders before approaching Ao. “Shut up. Or die,” she said with a sweet smile. Ao’s eyes went wide in astonishment. You sweatdropped. ‘Well at least moms okay…right?’
💄Mei then stood proudly as she raised her headgear up high. “Alright! Chojuro! Ao! Y/N! Let’s depart!”
💄After traveling for so long, you all made it to an inn that night. You leaned against a wall and cooled yourself down with your paper fan as Chojuro and Mei got settled. Ao watched you intently from across the room, studying your movements.
💄You glared at him. “Q-Quit staring at me! You’re making me nervous!” Ao shook his head. “Don’t think so. I gotta keep my eye on you and make sure you don’t find a boy and run off.”
💄You roll your eyes at him as you closed your fan. “Just what kind of girl do you think I am?” Ao glared at you. “One that rebels against her mother and parties at bars past curfew.” You rolled your eyes again at that. “Well there are no boys around. All I see is an angry old man!”
💄Mei glared at you. “Y/N! Shush! That’s enough!” You flinched at her tone and shrunk back, not wanting to upset her. Ao smirked in triumph seeing how you were finally getting disciplined.
💄You turn to Chojuro and watched him set his blade down against the wall. “Chojuro, you’re great twin sword, Hiramekarei must be quite a burden. Are you alright carrying it?” Mei asked. “Oh, I’m fine. Though I’m feeling a bit feverish,” Chojuro said.
💄Mei slowly approached him. “Let’s see…” She put her arm behind Chojuro’s neck and pressed her forehead against his. “Well it does feel like you might have a slight temperature.” You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself seeing Chojuro blush.
💄”Lady Fifth, you spoil Chojuro too much! It’s the same with your daughter too! This is why the young these days get so full of themselves! You spice a temperature from such a short jaunt?” Ao hissed. “Why, in my day I…”
💄You glared at him. “Hey! I am not spoi-!” You stopped mid sentence when Mei gave you a warning glare. She then directed her glare to Ao.
💄”Ao…it’s no longer the dark time when we were called the Blood Mist Village. The nightmare created by the Fourth Mizukage is long over. You do well not to bring up the past,” she warned. Ao nodded. “Yes I…forgive me…m’am.”
💄Mei smiled. “Now, let’s stop such depressing talk and have some supper instead! I’m looking forward to the meal this inn has made!” She turned to you. “Aren’t you, Sweetheart?” You nodded. “Yeah! I hope they have dessert too! I’ve been craving sweets! Maybe we could get cake or something!” Mei nodded. “Mmm, yes, a cake sounds splendid.”
💄”I hope you’ve engaged in appetizing dinner,” Ao said. You flinched at the triggering word and saw how Mei’s eyes darkened. ‘Oh crap…’ you thought.
💄Ao approached Chojuro. “You have arranged for all of our meals, haven’t you Chojuro?” Chojuro got nervous. “There were just so many choices. So I had a lot of trouble making up my mind. And in the end I couldn’t decide…”
💄You gasped at the triggering word and turned back to Mei. Her eyes became darker. ‘Okay this is bad…gotta change the subject…’ you thought.
💄You decided to try and lighten the mood of the room and create a distraction. You go behind Chojuro and wrap your arms around his neck. He widens his eyes as his cheeks flushed. “L-L-L-Lady Y/N! What are you-?”
💄”Chojuro! Let’s order something expensive and yummy!” You cooed. Chojuro’s face started heating up. “E-Expensive? A-A-Are you sure?” Your eyes lidded as you stroked his arm tenderly. “Mmhm…like maybe some…tender meat?”
💄You pressed your breasts to Chojuro’s back, burying your face in his neck a bit. Chojuro started to sweat. His breathing became heavy as the little sword in his pants started to rise a bit. Ao was completely disgusted by the display.
💄He stormed over to you and yanked you by your arm away from Chojuro. Chojuro immediately ran away to order the food. Ao glared at you. “Enough! You’re the Fifth Mizukage’s daughter! Have some class and stop acting like some shameless hussy!”
💄You glared back. “I was only trying to change the subject to keep you from saying anything stupid to my mom!” Ao growled at you. “Don’t you play games with me young lady! It’s always you or Chojuro! Youth these days have voided hearts and no ambition!”
💄Your face went blue as you widened your eyes in horror at the triggering word. “Ao! No!” It was too late. Mei stepped towards you both. You shrieked as she pried Ao’s hand off of yours, freeing you. Ao looked at her in confusion. “Lady Fifth?” Mei leaned close to him.
💄”Shut up. Or die…”
💄After supper, you went to your room and changed into a short f/c yukata robe. You spotted Chojuro in the hallway and invited him into your room to come and play. He was hesitant at first, but just like many guys, he was unable to resist your charms.
💄The two of you spent the night in your bed having a pillow fight which soon turned into a tickle fight. You both laugh the entire time.
💄”Lady Y/N! HAHAHA! Stop! That tickles!” Chojuro laughs. “Make me!” You chuckle as you tickle his sides. A devious smirk spreads on his face. “Fine, I will…”
💄Chojuro flips you over so that he was on top of you. You squealed as he pins your wrists above your head. You were almost shaken up. He was so strong. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment.
💄Chojuro’s cheeks flushed. He had never been this close to you before. ‘Y/N…she’s so beautiful…I know I shouldn’t but…’
💄Chojuro cupped your cheeks and started leaning closer to you. You blinked in confusion. “Chojuro…? What are you-?”
💄The door slammed opened. You and Chojuro turned and saw that it was Ao at the door. His eyes widened at the sight of you both in bed. “What in the devil is going here?!”
💄 Ao glared at him. “In bed with the Fifth Mizukage’s daughter?! Have you no shame?!” Chojuro immediately jumped off the bed. His knees shook as his face became red. “Ao it’s n-n-not what it looks like!”
💄”GET OUT!” Ao shouted. Chojuro screamed as he ran out the room. Ao turned to glare at you. You sat up in your bed and glared back. The shift of your movement caused your yukata sleeve to slide off your shoulder a bit, revealing your f/c bra strap.
💄Ao shook his head at the sight. “Look at yourself! I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if I didn’t come sooner.” You blushed as you fix your sleeve to cover your shoulders. “We weren’t gonna do anything! We were just playing in bed together!”
💄Ao raised an eyebrow. “‘Playing in bed together?’” You blushed. ‘Okay so that sounded a little suggestive just now…’ you thought.
💄”Chojuro is one of the Seven Ninja Swordmen, he doesn’t need to be coddled. I swear you’re just like your mother,” Ao sighed. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” you huffed.
💄Ao groaned. “Y/N, you can’t just keep on chasing after every boy you see.” You glared at him. “That’s not true! There’s only one boy I love and his name is Suigetsu Hozuki!” Ao narrows his eyes at you. “I already told you! That Hozuki boy is a bad influence on you! I wish Mangetsu didn’t have to die so that you could rebound to his delinquent of a brother!”
💄”How do you know what’s good for me?!” You snap. Ao growled, having enough of your talk backs. “Y/N-“
💄”-No! All you do is hate me and ruin my fun! You never want me to be happy! Why can’t you just let me live my life?!” You cry.
💄Ao finally snapped. “No daughter of mine needs to be marrying some thug-!” Ao stopped mid sentence, surprised at his own words. Your eyes widened as you stared at Ao in bewilderment as your heart nearly stopped.
💄‘Ao…is he my dad?’ You thought. You scanned his features. He didn’t look like you. But if there was any possibility that he slept with your mom 18 years ago…
💄”No…I’m not your father…” Ao said as if he read your thoughts. And just like that, your heart sank. You hugged your knees to your chest. “Oh…”
💄You didn’t know whether to feel relief or sadness. You never knew who your real father was and every time you questioned Mei about it, she kept quiet.
💄”Well then…why did you say that?” You ask sadly. Ao sighed as he scratched the back of his head nervously. “Well you may not know it but…I do think of you as my own daughter…”
💄Warmth filled your heart as his words as you lift your head out your knees. “Really?” Ao smiled a bit before walking over to sit next to you on the bed. “Of course. Why else do you think I’m always hard on you?”
💄”Because you hate me,” you say. “You’re wrong. I don’t hate you,” Ao said. “I just hate all the bad decisions you make.” You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that.
💄You then recall all the memories of your time with Ao throughout the years. When you were 3, he chased you around the mansion when you refused to take a bath.
💄When you were 7, he took you to the park when your mother was too busy to spend time with you.
💄At your 13th birthday party, he scolded you for initiating a food fight at the mansion.
💄When you were 15, Ao rescued you from thugs who put you under a genjutsu who threatened to sell you to a mob boss.
💄Then you recalled him scolding you recently for the bar party. Now you saw that behind the scolding was love.
💄You realized now that if you ever thought about your dad, all you could picture was Ao.
💄Tears stream down your eyes as you bring Ao into a hug. “Ao…I’m sorry…for everything…” Ao stared at you in bewilderment as you sobbed into his chest.
💄He couldn’t help but smile. You looked so precious. He put an arm around you and pulled you closer. “I’m sorry too.” He tilted your chin up and wiped your tears. “But you need to start acting like a grown up okay? Think about your actions and how it might affect your mothers positions as Mizukage.”
💄 He was right. You had to start thinking about your moms reputation. “Okay,” you nodded. “By the way, where did you learn to sing like that?” Ao asked. You smiled, remembering your party performance. “I always knew how to sing! I perform at every pageant I’ve won.”
💄”You have a pretty voice,” Ao said. “Thanks!” You say happily. You then remembered something. “I noticed you left out the pole dance when you told mom about the party…” you say nervously.
💄Ao sighed and shook his head. “If you’re mother knew her daughter was dancing like that, it would break her heart!” You giggled. “You really do care!”
💄Ao blushed and rolled his eyes a bit. “Just promise me you won’t do anything like that again.” You lean up towards Ao and give him a peck on the cheek. “Okay, dad.” Ao glared at you as his cheeks flushed a deeper red. “Don’t call me ‘dad’. It makes me sound like an old man.”
💄You giggled again. “But you are an old man!” You and Ao laughed together for that moment. Neither of you noticed that Mei was peeking behind the door, smiling that the two of you finally found common ground.
💄The morning of the Kage Summit finally came. You were served warm tea to heat up before the Summit commenced. One by one all the Kage and their bodyguards from each village showed up.
💄Your eyes met with Gaara’s first. He gave you a kind smile. You sweatdrop. ‘Oh god please don’t come…’ you thought.
💄Gaara and his siblings approached you. You forced a kind smile. “Hi Gaara.” “Hello Y/N,” he said. “You look lovely.” You force a giggle. “Thannnks.”
💄’I wish I didn’t have to run into my ex…well er…we went on one date so is he even considered my ex?’ You thought.
💄There was an awkward silence between you both. ‘Maybe I should shake his hand and call it a day or something…or should I hug him?’ You thought.
💄You step forward towards Gaara to reach a hand out but Temari immediately steps in front of you to block your path, causing you to stop in place. “Oh! Um…hiya Temari,” you say nervously. Temari said nothing. Her blue eyes gave you a piercing glare that said it all.
💄You sweatdropped under her scrutiny. Temari never liked you. You knew her as a fellow competitor from the Miss Teen Ninja and Miss Ninja Universe pageants. And just like Ino, she also believe you cheated.
💄Since you rejected Gaara’s hand in marriage, you were on her blacklist. The longer she stared at you, the more uncomfortable you became. ‘So awkward…can’t breathe…’ you thought.
💄You look over to Kankuro who had heart in his eyes upon seeing you. “Hi, are you still single?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Huh?” Gaara sighed. “Kankuro, be respectful.”
💄Temari scoffed. “You shouldn’t waste your time on a girl like her anyway. Have some self respect.” Your cheeks burned from the embarrassment as you felt your heart sink. ‘Ouch…’
💄After that awkward fiasco, you met with the Tsuchikage and his bodyguards. Õnoki looked you up and down with a dirty grin on his face. “So this is the Fifth Mizukage’s daughter that Deidara kept going on about. Mmm, what a fine young lass.”
💄You shivered. ‘Ewwww…you dirty old man…and who is Deidara?’ You thought. You forced a smile despite your thoughts. “Pleased to meet you, Lord Tsuchikage.” Õnoki nodded at that, his grin never left his face.
💄You brought your gaze over to Kurotsuchi. You recognized her from the pageants. Thankfully, you two didn’t have any beef. You gave her a genuine smile. “Hi Kuro! It’s good to see you again!” Kurotsuchi nodded. “Likewise.”
💄She gave you a suspicious look. “Hey, is it true that you cheated in the pageant?” You narrowed your eyes at her as you sweatdropped. “I didn’t cheat…”
💄You then met with Danzo. He looks you up and down for a moment before giving you a look of disgust. “Feh!” He then walks away from you. Your jaw dropped as you stared in astonishment. You internally fumed. ‘RUDE! Who made that old coot the Hokage? Where’s sweet Auntie Tsunade?’
💄Finally, you met with the Raikage who’s presence was very intimidating. His bodyguards C and Darui were with him. They were both really hot!
💄A broke into a grin. ”Well if it isn’t Miss Ninja Universe…” You gave him a smile. “A pleasure, Lord Raikage.” A chuckled a bit. “So how’s married life treating you?” Your smile slowly dropped. “Oh…I’m not married…”
💄A’s lips formed a bigger grin. “I see…well maybe that wouldn’t be a problem if you had offered Omoi’s hand in marriage.” An irritated tick mark appeared on your head as A chuckled.
💄’Okay so we have one Kage who’s my ex, one that’s a perv, one that’s an asshole, and one who’s a bigger asshole! These Kage’s are all clowns!’ You thought.
💄You stood with Ao and Chojuro behind the curtain alongside the other bodyguards of the other Kage as the Kage Summit commenced.
💄As each of the Kage talked about the worlds issues, you found yourself bored by the second. At one point the Raikage smashed his desk, prompting for all the bodyguards to jump out and protect their Kage. After Mei told you, Ao, and Chojuro to stand down, you each along with the other bodyguards went back behind the curtain once more.
💄You were bored once more as the Kage conversed. That’s when Ao spoke up. “Chojuro, Y/N, prepare for battle.” You and Chojuro exchange confused looks before directing it at Ao. “What?”
💄Ao then activated his Byakugan. He then stepped out from behind the curtain and exposed Danzo for stealing Shisui Ichiha’s eye. You were all shocked by the revelation.
💄That was when a large green plant sprouted in the middle of the Kage circle revealing a creepy white plant man with green hair. ”Why hellooooo there!”
💄You and all the other bodyguards stepped out from the curtain to defend your Kage’s. A growled. “One problem after another! Now what?!” “Is he Akatsuki?” Danzo asked. Õnoki nodded. “Seems so.”
💄”Guess what? Sasuke Uchiha is stuck in here! I wonder…where do you think he could be hiding right now? Any guesses?!” The white plant creature sang.
💄You were absolutely shaken to the core at the creepy site of the man, but you didn’t let it show. “WHAT IS ALL THIS?!” A barked. You then remembered what the plant guy said about Sasuke.
💄”He’s the one with the Sharingan?” Mei asked. “Who took down Haku and Zabuza?” Ao added. You gasped at that. ‘Zabuza…’ you thought.
💄Before you could ask questions, the plant creature spoke again. “It’s like a game of hide and seek! Let’s all try to find Sasuke!”
💄A grabbed a hold of the plant creature by the neck and strangled him. “Tell me where Sasuke Uchiha is! Give me an answer right now! Refuse to answer and I’ll show you no mercy!”
💄After awhile, A’s patience grew thin as he proceeded to break the plant guys neck. Mifune’s guard then sent the order to find Sasuke. A and his bodyguards then proceeded to rush off and find Sasuke on their own.
💄After interrogating Danzo some more Gaara and his siblings left to find Sasuke along with Kurotsuchi.
💄Ao closed his eyes. “He’s here.” As if on cue, the curtains slashed as the result of blades cutting. You were each on your guard.
💄You glanced up at the ceiling seeing Sasuke Uchiha hanging from above. You pointed at him. “There he is!” Everyone followed your gaze.
💄You took a good look at Sasuke. ‘For someone totally psycho, he’s really hot,’ you thought. Mifune jumped up to attack first, Sasuke countered with his blade.
💄Danzo and his guards suddenly ran out the room. “Sasuke! Danzo bolted!” You heard. You turned seeing a redhead in glasses. ‘Who’s that?’ You thought.
💄Ao jumped over the table and ran towards the hole. He stopped and turned back to you all. “Lady Mizukage, Chojuro, Y/N! Stay here! I’m gonna go after Danzo. The Kage Summit hasn’t come to an end yet.”
💄”Very well. But don’t go overboard,” Mei said. Ao nodded. “M’am, I’ll leave the Akatsuki criminals to you,” he said before running out the room.
💄Your heart fills with worry. “Ao! Wait!” You step forward but Mei puts a hand in front of you. “Ao can take care of himself, Sweetheart. You just stay close to me.” You look at her worriedly. “But…”
💄Sasuke then jumped down. “Karin! COME!” He and the redhead named Karin then rush towards the hole. You turned back to them as you started making hand signs. “No you don’t!”
💄You and Mei together unleashed Lava Released from your mouths to seal the hole shut. Sasuke turned to glare at you both. You playfully licked the lava drool off your lips. “Gotcha~” you sang.
💄Mei smirked as she wiped the lava drool off her own lips with her fingers. “You Akatsuki have traveled all over the Hidden Mist and manipulated the Fourth Mizukage…”
💄”…And yet when I look at you closely, you Uchiha really are quite handsome indeed…” she continued. “…Why if you haven’t gone rogue, I probably would have made arrangements to marry you off to my beautiful daughter…”
💄’Aww, that’s really sweet mom. But there’s only one man I love…’ you thought. Sasuke’s eyes became menacing. “Do not interfere!”
💄Mei smiled as she sighed before getting up from her seat. “Too bad, such a fine man, what a waste…”
💄She gave Sasuke a seductive look. “But at least…I get to give you a kiss that’ll melt you away…”
💄You blushed at that as you sweatdropped. You always got a little uncomfortable when Mei acted all seductive towards men in your presence.
💄Karin growled. “What?! A kiss?! Who and what are you, you witch?! And quit making eyes at him you old bag!” You sent her a death glare. “How dare you?!”
💄”You wanna piece of me, bimbo? Well c’mon!” Karin barked. “You’re about to start wearing your hair color all over your body, bitch!” You hissed.
💄Mei sighed again. “Language, dear.” You held your tongue. You both then started making hand signs. “Lord Tsuchikage, if you’re not going to participate, then please just keep your head down.”
💄With that, you and Mei shot lava from your mouths as the Tsuchikage and his bodyguard jumped to the sealing. The lava attack just barely got your enemies. You smirked seeing how some of your lava burned off the split ends in Karin’s hair, causing her to cry out. ‘Don’t mess with my mama,’ you thought.
💄You and Mei then jumped out the way: “Chojuro!” Mei said. Chojuro jumped in the air with his sword. “Yes m’am!” He then used his sword to blast Sasuke through the hole and into the hallway.
💄Mei immediately ran into the hallway to face off against Sasuke. “Mommy!” You heard her use her lava and you guessed that she was sealing the wall again to keep Sasuke from escaping. ‘She can take care of herself.’
💄You glanced down at the knocked out Karin. ‘She’s not even worth it…’ You turned towards the door. ‘I don’t trust that Danzo. I gotta find Ao and make sure he’s okay…’
💄You immediately ran out the room. “Y/N! Wait!” Chojuro called.
A/N: TO BE CONTINUED…
PART 3
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kisha-myers · 1 year
Text
Fem!reader - Ghost x König x reader fanfiction titled 'My Anxious Mouse'
Disclaimer: I do NOT own call of duty nor its characters/operators - I only own the plot.
If you want to be on the tag list for this series PLEASE comment on either chapter 1 or chapter 4 and let me know!
TW: DEPICTIONS OF TRAFFICKING, BLOOD AND GORE, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!
Chapter Six: Nightmare from Hell
Warmth, that's what you felt against your bare skin as you awoke. The sun beamed down on you, it's rays of light coaxing your skin to deepen in coloration slightly. You sat up slowly, head foggy as you tried to remember where you were - this wasn't the military base you'd passed out in. You were nestled under a swaying date palm tree, the sweltering heat curved slightly from the miniscule shade it provided you. There was no wind to aid in cooling you down, you noted, climbing to your feet and wincing at the biting burn of the sand against your skin. You never liked the feeling of it, the way the little granules settle themselves into every available orifice of your body - bothered you immensely. It reminded you of the time you had to help you mom make churros, the cinnamon sugar mixture coating your little fingers, grating against your skin causing it to redden slightly from irritation. You wished you had shoes, even socks, to protect your feet from not only the blistering heat the sand absorbed, but from its grating texture.
Your right hand fanned your face as your eyes scanned your surroundings, sweat already coating your skin, the small droplets slithering down your back causing your shirt to stick uncomfortably. A few scattered date palms stood tall over ruined houses, smoke still rising in the distance from a few of them. Rapid pops in the distance off to the right captured your attention, the resounding reverberating booms that followed shook the ground, making your already precarious knees even weaker. Iraq, your mind realized, you were left to your own devices in Iraq - a hostile territory for Americans, even more so for women such as yourself. Your eyes watered as you frantically searched your memory for anything that would explain why you were here of all places, hands shaking tremendously as you came up blank for an answer.
A joke you had hoped, but quickly that notion was washed away as shouts in arabic filtered into your consciousness. Hide, that little voice in your mind screamed at you, demanding you remove the dark colored sweater and abandon the offending material somewhere amongst the sand before the terrorists could see you. You fought with yourself for only a moment, coming to the conclusion that it would be smarter to remove the material but keep it with you as you knew the nights here in the desert dropped in temperature rather quickly. You could also use it as a shield for your eyes during sandstorm should that ever happen to you - you hoped it didn't, but you weren't stupid by any means.
You removed Königs sweater quickly, wadding it up into a ball and tucking it under your arm like a quarterback does with a football, and took off towards the first set of ruined homes located to your left. Running in sand, you realized, was about as easy as walking a straight line for the police whilst heavily intoxicated. Your feet burned viciously, it was as if you were scrambling through smoldering coals - they slipped more often then not, causing you to stumble with damn near every step. Your tears fell freely now, cascading down your flushed sun kissed skin with ease as panic nestled its wicked claws inside your chest. The shouting was getting louder, the cracking of rifles firing off shot after shot and sub machine guns popping off overwhelming your ears. Sweat dripped off your nose as you slipped again, your hands instinctively thrusting forwards to catch yourself as your knees buckled and crashed against the blazing sand. A sob ripped from your chest, the little voice inside your head roaring in agonized screams, demanding you get up and continue forwards - now was most certainly not the time to feel pity for yourself and these rather unfortunate circumstances. Your muscles tensed as you pushed yourself onto unsteady legs, eyes bleary from the never ending torrent of tears that practically drowned you. Your teeth bit mercilessly into your inner cheek, jaw clenching tightly to keep the sobs that wrecked through your chest silenced lest the enemy find you. Blood pooled in your mouth, making your stomach heave, rejecting the iron infused viscous liquid as soon as you choked it down. Your jaw popped audibly as you gagged, fighting to keep down the bile that coated the back of your throat.
Your feet thankfully carried you inside the ruined remnants of what looked to be a family home, eyes constantly swiveling in search for the ultimate hiding spot where you could remain undetected and protected. The roof was practically blown all the way off, ash and soot covering the floor as stone and pieces of debris sliced into the bottoms of your feet. The pain wasn't registered by your conscious, your brain fully in survival mode pushing your pain receptors to remain off until you were out of immediate danger. You stumbled through what you'd declare the living room, body buzzing on pure adrenaline as you searched the rubble for anything useful. You were an ignorant American for the most part, having been taught at a young age that middle easterners were savages, it was inaccurate now that you were older.
Bloodied footprints followed you wherever you went mixing in with the ash that covered the ground - in the far recess of your mind you knew you would have to tend to your wounds soon to keep away an infection, but that wasn't a priority at this moment. Just as your trembling hands were about to lift up a splintered beam, jumbled shouting reached your ears just outside of where you were currently. Your eyes widened in fear and trepidation, mind scrounging up the most ghastly of images to play out in your mind of victims you'd seen - all their faces however, replaced with yours instead. Your mind screamed once more, declaring that if you didn't leave now, they'd find you and most certainly would carve your flesh like a turkey on Thanksgiving day.
With deft fingers you tied the overly large sweater around your waist securely, tucking the ends into your shorts and grimacing at the uncomfortably coarser texture against your sensitive flesh. Once finished, you turned and ran with all your might towards the other end of the home, leaping over fallen walls and dodging low hanging pieces of the ceiling. You scrambled faster, scurrying like a rabbit, zigzagging your way about the destroyed home looking for a safe exit. Step after excruciating step you went, your chest heaving from the exertion, heart pounding so hard you were afraid it would simply give out. You were their prey, a small mouse being lured into a trap by the ferocious feline, ready to be feasted upon in the worst of ways. You'd never felt such intense fear before, if you had had a full bladder, you were sure you'd have urinated on yourself by now.
More shouting behind you kicked your body into overdrive, eyes locking onto a demolished glass surrounded window off in the room to your right. You couldn't hesitate, 'hesitation gets you killed', you father had drilled into you over and over again, 'observe, think, react - survive at all costs' his gravely voice reminded you. You did just that, running with everything you had and practically throwing yourself out of the window. Pain lacerated it's way through your right shoulder as you landed hard onto the shards of broken glass on the other side, an anguished yelp released itself from your lips as you forced yourself up. Blood glided down your arm, thick crimson drops bathing the beige silica sand with their vibrancy. You couldn't stay there, you were still being hunted - running was your only option left and you knew, just from Dantes letters alone that if there were scouts on foot, there would be snipers in the ridges watching everything.
Perhaps that was how they knew where you were, watching your every move and waiting to close in on you. You were a small female, ripe for the taking - perfect to clean up and sell to the highest bidder or simply be used and abused by the men that would ultimately capture you. Your fate, you surmised, was already sealed though your tiny voice inside refused to accept that. It coaxed you onward, taking control over your wayward limbs and pushing you onward. Shots rang out, and this time you didn't remain silent. A scream filed with so much terror ripped through your chest, stealing the breath within your lungs as you went. One after another tumbled consecutively, until a body slammed into you from behind.
You felt time slow down significantly, almost as if someone had changed the setting on the television to slow motion. You felt thick arms wrap around your waist, lifting you up and turning you so whomever was behind you could take the brunt of the impact against the sand. You felt rather than heard the grunt your attack released as they landed, your limbs flailing about as you struggled to free yourself from their grasp. Hands reached out to restrain you, a heavily accented though familiar voice shouting over your agonized screams, trying desperately to gather your attention.
It wasn't until cold water doused your raging inferno of panic that you finally came to, eyes shooting open as you flew forwards sputter and choking on the offending liquid. Your eyelids blinked rapidly, the blurriness slowly fading as you took in your surroundings. Johnny knelt beside you on the bed, his arms securely around your trembling form, eyes a swirling mess of worry and panic. König stood at the foot of the bed, his hands clenched tightly into fists by his sides as his muscles tensed visibly. Ghost stood just behind Johnny, an empty glass in his hand as he gave you a quick once over. Your chest heaved rapidly, your mind trying to calm the frantic erratic beating of your heart as you chanted 'I'm safe' just under your breath.
"Aye lass, y'alright now, I've gotcha. I'not goin' nowhere." Johnny's calmed Scottish brogue filtered into your right ear. You leaned into his warmth, unaware of how viciously you were shivering.
"J-just a b-bad d-dre-dre-am." You stuttered out with a sniffle, your hands desperately rubbing against the thin military issued blanket that lay crumbled in your lap, "I-i w-as th-the-re J-joh-johnny, i-i-i-in ir-raq." You cried, turning to look up at him, "I wa-was a-al-all alo-lone, and the-they fou-ound m-me." You sobbed, burrowing your face into his chest and wrapping your arms around his thick waist. Ghost and König shared a look, opting to go wait outside the door to allow you two to have some privacy.
The Scot rubbed soothing circles into your back, whispering comforting words into your ear until you were calm. His cologne, you noted, was different. Notes of pine and spearmint filling your nostrils as you inhaled deeply, undertones of the earth just after it rains and freshly cut spruce helped ease your discomfort.
You weren't okay by any means, but at least nestled within Johnny's arms you knew you were safe... and in a moment like this, that's all you could ask for.
Author's Note: I'm so sorry it's so short! It's late and I'm exhausted and wanted some angst - I promise to do better with tomorrow's chapter! I hope you'll comment your thoughts, constructive criticism is very much welcomed and appreciated!
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defiblover27 · 1 year
Text
Heart Break
Here is a new story that was commissioned by a follower. If you ever have any ideas as to what you would like to see my inbox is always open.
TW: Suicide, if you or anyone you know is in need of help please reach out to those that can help.
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Another beautiful day at the beach with a small crowd of beach goers. This beach would be filled shoulder to shoulder in a few weeks when all of the spring breakers arrived. For now it was maybe a couple dozen people relaxing. The lifeguards in the tower were also a bit more relaxed since their weren't meant to be many problems and no rowdy college students. That was until a surfer came running up to them. "Hey, I think there's something out there, kind of looks like a body." the surfer announced. One of the lifeguards grabbed his binoculars and scanned the water. Going back and forth he didn't see much, a few nice waves and a few people in the water. "Shit" he muttered under his breath as he came across what looked to be a person floating face down in the water. He ran out with his coworker as she drove a jet ski out toward where the person had been seen. As they got closer they could tell it was a young woman but something was off about the situation. The young woman appeared to be fully clothed. "I remember her." the female lifeguard announced. "She was sitting on the beach and I didn't think anything of it, I never saw her get in the water." They approached her floating body as they pulled her onto a board attached to the back of the jet ski. They flipped her over and she appeared to be in her early twenties at most with tight blue jeans, and a white t-shirt on that revealed a black bra underneath. Her lips were already turning blue and her complexion was ghostly white. "She might still have a chance, how long ago did you see her on the beach?" the male lifeguard asked. "I don't know maybe thirty minutes, I don't know" she responded as they sped toward the beach. The lifeguard pushed her long brown hair off of her face as he sealed his mouth of hers and began giving her rescue breaths. Each one caused a small amount of water to pour out mixed with some mucus and foam. As they made it to the beach they quickly grabbed her under her arms and dragged her inland. As they dragged her white adidas on her left foot to get covered in sand while her right foot was only covered by bright pink socks. Laying her down on the warm sand the male lifeguard quickly checked for a pulse by shoving his fingers into the side of her neck. "Nothing, get the defib." he announced as he centered his hands in-between her small b-cup breasts. With each violent compression more foam and water poured out of her mouth and her small body shook on the sand. She was maybe slightly over five foot with an attractive athletic build. One of the beachgoers nearby had already dialed 911 and the sirens could be heard in the distance. A crowd began to circle around her as they watched the lifeguards fight for her life. As the defibrillator arrived the two lifeguards continued to pound away at Amy's chest. They quickly snipped away her white shirt exposing her small breasts behind her black bra a single snip in the center of the bra caused it to fall to the sides as her breasts were exposed for everyone to see. Quickly they attached the leads of the heart monitor and awaited an initial rhythm. As they waited thoughts began to race through both of their heads. Why is a young fully clothed woman dead on their beach? How long was she out there? Her skin was cold to the touch and her lips were completely blue. "She's probably in hypothermia" he thought to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by a flatline on the monitor as the young girls heart sat silent in her chest. "Damn it, no shockable rhythm" he muttered under his breath.
He continued to beat violently on her chest as he felt her ribs pop under the immense pressure. After multiple rounds of CPR the monitor began to bounce around as it showed v-fib. Luckily this time there was a shockable rhythm as the paddles were charged. He took the paddles in his hand and spread a large amount of gel on them before placing them on her bare chest, pressing the shock button her lifeless body twitched on the ground before going still again. At this point the lifeguards switched positions as they continued their desperate fight. The beach goers watched in complete silence, a few of them began to pull out their phones and take pictures or record videos. The ultimate invasion of privacy as Amy lied lifeless on the sand totally exposed for the whole world to see. Again the monitor bounced around as they recharged the paddles and shocked the young woman the electricity coursed through her dying body as her chest flopped on the warm sand. Her cold dying body reacted more violently to this shock than it did the first one. Again there was no response as they continued CPR. "Where the hell is that ambulance?" the male lifeguard called out. "This is the East Point beach right?" one of the people in the crowd asked. "Fuck, no its the West." he responded madly. The person in the crowd fumbled for their phone as they called 911 to update the location. Amy had been under intense resuscitation for ten minutes while the ambulance and police were headed the opposite direction. Again and again her chest caved in rhythmically with each compression. Her entire body was under the will of her rescuers. Every once in a while they glanced at the monitor praying that it would show some sort of good news for the young girl. For eight minutes since updating the location no shocks were able to be given. Finally they got a chance as they charged the paddles and applied more gel. As he pressed the paddles into her chest her exposed body shook on the sand. Her arms flung out to the side aggressively before going still again. The monitors went flat once again as the medics finally arrived on scene.
"What do we got." one of the paramedics asked as he set down the defibrillator. "Early twenties female found unresponsive in the water. Being CPR for the last twenty minutes and delivered multiple shocks. Unknown downtime but she is cold to the touch." he replied. "Alright lets intubate and we will see what we can do." the paramedic responded. His partner took over at the head as he pried open her mouth and put the largynscope in. Next he carefully maneuvered the ET tube before securing it with a blue holder. Taking out his stethoscope he confirmed placement as he bare chest rose with each squeeze of the ambu bag. "I'm in." he said softly. At that point they resumed aggressive CPR as they started an IV to inject any drugs as well as fluids into the dying young woman. They also quickly snipped away her blue jeans to expose her down to just her one shoe and a white lace panties. Her bare chest glistened with droplets of water and the extra residue of gel from her previous defibrillation attempts, a blueish-purple mark was forming in-between her breasts from the force of compressions that she had received. As the compressions continued to pound in her chest her body rippled on the warm sand. Onlookers were in a state of silence as the grave reality started to wash over them, for the past fifteen minutes they had watched a young woman die in front of them as the lifeguards did all that they could to save her life. "v-fib on the monitor, charge paddles to 300 please" the paramedic said as the unit was charged. After signaling that it was charged the paddles were picked up and yet another heap of gel was spread across them. Pressing them into her chest the gel oozed from the sides, pressing the shock button her chest bounced off the sand before crashing back down again. Her breasts and abdomen jiggled with the impact of crashing back down. "No change charge to 360." the paramedic announced in a calm tone. The same procedure was followed as he pressed the cold paddles on her chest. Her nipples were erect from being exposed to the air and the currents of the defibrillator. Again her exposed body bounced around on the sand before going still again. "Asystole, resume CPR and push another round of epi" he announced as he took over bagging at her head. Her breasts shook around as her belly jiggled from each individual compression. For another three minutes the young woman remained in asystole before going into v-fib once again. The young woman was shocked four more times as her body shook around on the ground. For the next twenty minutes the young woman was put under intense resuscitation attempts as the fight for her life became futile. The paramedic shined a light into her eyes as they stared blankly back at him. "Fixed and dilated" taking out his stethoscope he order for compressions to stop as her moved it around her chest. "Her body is back to normal temp, she's been down for near an hour and has maxed out on epi, pupils are fixed and dilated. I'm gonna call it." he announced as the crew backed away. The paramedic called the hospital to get an official time of death from a physician. After acquiring it they began to remove the equipment from her bare body. As they packed everything up they noticed a note tucked into her bra. The note explained that she had recently lost the love of her life after she found him cheating on her and couldn't handle life anymore. The note left an eerie feeling as they wondered what could have been done to prevent this tragedy. The coroners office arrived shortly after to claim the young woman's body and the note allowed them to notify her family.
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pastafossa · 2 years
Note
hi pasta! idk if u remember but a few months back i told u about me being zooted and wondering what matt would think of cheezits when he’s high. just want u to know i am having a not great high rn and i am once again, thinking about how matt would think of cheezits. the individual salt grains, bro.
TW: matt is high af in this one
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He has no idea where the cheezits come from.
He's never bought a box of cheezits.
In his drifting mind, it's as if they simply... appear on the coffee table, a strange scent that ripples through the air like swirls of paint and over-processed fire.
He swings his head blearily, inhales slowly a few times, and he swears he can feel each individual molecule tickle the hairs in his nose, each one singing as it impacts his sinuses.
Wheat flour. Vegetable oil. Skim milk-
Cheese.
Cheese sounds nice.
Does he like cheese? Maybe he does. Foggy's grown bad cheese before, but he shouldn't judge all cheese by what science experiments Foggy cooked up in their little college dorm fridge.
He's a lawyer. It would be unfair.
He makes a noise where he's sprawled out on the spinning couch, which he also does not remember laying out on. His throat feels too heavy to make any further noises, especially when he's distracted by the way the sound waves ricochet inside the fridge like a drunken trumpet. A hand appears from the ground, flapping heavily and rustling air currents so loudly they sound like the gusts of a hurricane or maybe a particularly loud condor.
Matt wouldn't know; he's never heard a condor, so he can't rule it out. "Want cheezit?" Foggy says, very slowly, syllables making him twitch pleasantly.
Another affirmative noise. He can feel each individual fiber on the pillow below his head, but they're nice fibers that smell good and feel like tiny fingers, so he doesn't mind, even if that's a little creepy.
The floating hand makes its way to the box, and the plastic wrap inside tastes like Michigan and lake water. The roar of each cheezit striking its neighbor sounds like battle, like the bellow of cheesy, salty elephants before Foggy's retrieved one and plucked it free with another rush of air currents.
He can't lift his hand, not when his body feels like it's composed of five hundred pounds of sand inside a tube sock. He is once again reduced to a noise, and holding his mouth open.
It takes Foggy a while to find his mouth, but eventually he makes contact and clumsily drops the cheezit into Matt's mouth.
Matt's pupils cannot dilate. This is fact.
And yet... they do.
He suddenly understands why it is called a cheez-it, for this is not cheese. It is only a mockery, a mimic, an idol of lead beneath bright orange paint... an it.
It is... an abomination, and God leaves him in that moment.
It sits on his tongue, each jagged, individual grain of salt razor-sharp, hooking against his tastebuds like the jagged suckers of an octopus, like the reverse fangs of a serpent, digging in and prepared to assault his tongue for as long as possible. The scent of over-processed, overcooked cheese dust shoves its way up into his sinuses, beats at the roof of his mouth in sheer rage in the manner of all foul things that know they are evil and curse God for their own existence.
The edges are jagged, an army of lines and furrows, there is a dot in the center, a lie to tempt his tongue into thinking there is an escape from the cursed food he has placed upon it.
He wonders if it will get better if he bites-
It does not.
He's not sure how long he sits there with the cheezit on his tongue.
Minutes.
Hours.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
Years.
Millennia.
He is an ancient, minuscule planet in the uncaring universe, held beneath the endless weight and universal laws of fake cheese and salt grains shaped like shark teeth and diamonds.
He is a temporary gasp of atoms and stars made alive, made to remember the fiery pain of their origination billions and trillions of years in the past thanks to the fleeting, hellish synthesis of processed chemicals produced by metal machines made of fractured stardust.
"Yay or nay on the cheezits, Matt?" Foggy slurs, each letter bursting in the air like bubbles.
Matt... inhales. And slowly swallows the melting cheezit.
It grinds its way down, each nerve it passes relaying in adequate detail that Matt has just swallowed something unholy, something not made for Mankind's throat.
He swallows the cheesy Tower of Babel, swallows Mankind's baked hubris and their attempts to play God, to create what should never have existed.
He... blinks, and inhales, drawing in the spiraling currents of air for strength, drawing in the atoms of the multiverse, filling his lungs with fire and light and individual particles of millions of lives that have touched and hated cheezits, particles that will touch millions and billions more people who love or hate cheezits, before eventually all grows cold and man's chance to render such abominations upon the universe will be ended, and says in a tone that carries the weight of one who has just had a deep, cheesy, unpleasant pot-related revelation:
"Gross.”
"More cheezits for me, then."
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hausofmamadas · 7 months
Text
| Hard to hate up close |
Pairing: Andrea Nuñez & OC!Julian "Bugsy" Barrón Corona
For @narcosfandomdiscordNarcOctober - Day 24 - Day of Monsters
Prompt: "The world isn’t made up of heroes and monsters. Just broken people balancing between the two.”
Word count: ≈ 3.2K
TWs: Canon-consistent violence, references to trauma/domestic abuse
There’s always the power of choice, insofar as you believe that you have one. The fucked part about it all was the system they were in was built to give most people the false impression that they didn’t have any. After the failed assassination attempt on her boss, Jesús Blancornelas, Andrea Nuñez meets with the little brother of the sicario who did the deed, Julian Barrón Corona aka Bugsy, to understand the man behind the monster.
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She’d always heard a few decades in an American prison left people looking much older than they were. The confinement, the stress, the lack of sun, the terrible food, the boundless future of the same old day-to-day nothing, for some, with no end in sight. Nothing to look forward to and no one to look up to. It wasn’t a life, but a cheap imitation, and after all, wasn’t that justice?
Andrea used to have an easy answer to that question: of course, it was. For a lot of these pinshe pendejos, mercy even. Justice was something she’d believed she had an innate understanding of. Even her father said so. Since she was five, he’d said so. That’s why he encouraged her to be a reporter. But at some point, the concept of justice and the truth became intertwined and simplified in a way that seemed comically obtuse now. You seek the truth and justice will follow. Justice always the destination; truth, the means. The most erroneous misconception of all: that one could not exist without the other.
But the news about Rebollo changed the game, and now, as she watches Julian Barrón Corona – heretofore known to her only by his gang alias, Bugsy – socks stuffed in his dress shoes, dress shoes in hand, walking through the sand on the beach until he reaches the front door of the café, she’s taken aback because he looks younger than his 33 years, even though he hadn’t been in the free world in over a decade, and then she realizes all that racket about truth and justice is a fairy tale. More fit for the panels of a comic book, than the pages of a newspaper. More fiction than nonfiction.
He hasn’t seen her yet, at one of the patio tables outside, and she doesn’t flag him down immediately, preferring to study him from afar instead. He’s seemingly preoccupied investigating, reading something on the front door. Perhaps trying to figure out if it was absolutely necessary to put his shoes back on. Through the tinted glass of the windows, he finally spots her on the patio, and doesn’t bother going inside, so as not to trouble himself with the shoes. There’s something of herself in that. She hates dress shoes. Glancing at her boots, wiggling her toes inside against the well-worn leather that stretches to accommodate them, yeah, she wouldn’t have wanted to put those foot prisons back on either.
And it all worked out since she hadn’t bothered to dress up for the funeral. Only because she didn’t know she was going until her foot hit the too-green, carefully manicured lawn that blanketed the hills of the cemetery. Her legs did the rest in spite of her – left, right, left, right – bringing her to the edge of the monochromatic crowd of mourners, in varying shades of black and gray. She could barely see the opening of the grave over the flowers piled atop the casket. She hadn’t a clue why she was there. She knew no one, and no one knew her.
The deceased she only knew by reputation, and had seen only twice in person. Once, when she snuck behind the police barrier to sit outside the cathedral and wait for unsuspecting Arellano/Vasquez wedding attendees to exit, spill a little chisme, maybe put her onto a new lead. He’d been standing on the side of the building, probably there to ferry the family to the car from the private entrance of the rectory, once the ceremony ended. Since she was not where she was supposed to be, she hid behind a corner, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible and didn’t get a good look at him.
The second time was in her car, staking out the hipódromo with Isaac. She was so focused on Benjamín, she didn’t pay the guy at his side much mind, except to mentally note that he looked vaguely familiar. But after visiting Jesús at the hospital, when she went back to the office to write her story, she pulled out Isaac’s pictures again to get a better look. See what he was like not covered in blood, slumped over in the street, with a bullet in one eye. Popeye with one eye. However, tasteless it was, she found that detail darkly hilarious. Until she finally saw him in the pictures Isaac took. His face was expressionless to the point of unsettling, except for his eyes, inky black with an almost ascetic countenance and an unforeseen depth, heavy with the weight of his life and the whole world, bits and pieces that she could only speculate about and that would torture her curiosity forever.
Before that, she’d believed that she hated him. Even though Jesús walked away from that intersection with his life and this man didn’t, she was angry. Pissed. She hated him. Except she didn’t. No, in reality, all she hated was what he symbolized. And though, she condemned his actions, what he’d done, she was reckoning with the difference between deeds and intentions and how the two become misaligned when you’re part of a bigger system. There’s always the power of choice, insofar as you believe that you have one. The fucked part about it all was the system they were in was built to give most people the false impression that they didn’t have any. It wasn’t an excuse, but it was the universal explanation. 
Over time, she'd come to understand that the reasons people do the things they do can be conflicted and strange, at times baffling and inexplicable. Sometimes they hadn’t thought about the reasons at all, just spent their entire lives reacting. The way she saw it, yes, actions are worthy of condemnation and should be the basis by which a person’s character is divined but her own estimations now required further analysis. That’s where the reasons and intentions come in. Not important in the formation of a person’s character, but crucial in her conception of them. She used to think that last part didn't matter. But then, she’d been wrong about a lot of things.
She doesn’t hate him. Because you can’t really hate someone you don’t know. And when you do know it’s still hard. If she’d learned anything in her career, time and time again, it shakes out this way: people are hard to hate up close.
So, why go to the funeral, if not to curse the man's grave? Seated across from Julian now, while he loosens the collar of his shirt, rolls the sleeves up to his elbows, then places them on the table, flipping through the menu like a magazine, that’s what she’s hoping to find out.
“Has pedido ya?” All she sees are a pair of inquiring eyes over the brim of the menu and it’s a sight so strange she almost laughs. But the eyes give her pause. Dark and filled with the mysteries of a life lived too fast and hard to make sense of. Just like his brother’s, only less so. A little freer somehow.
“O, no. Estaba esperándote. No voy a comer probablemente.”
“Ah,” Julian nods. “Pues, yo sí, porque comida en la carcél sabe a puta mierda, perdóname por decirlo.”
Andrea looks down, a tight smile on her face. He's disarming immediately. Polite, but with the trademark frankness of a kid moonlighting as a career criminal. The authenticity of criminals as a rule never ceased to surprise her, so accustomed she was to the dance of obfuscation, a never-ending cycle of Two Truths and a Lie played by political officials, businessmen, spokespersons, strategists, law enforcement, feds, the PJF, the PGR, Cisen, Disen, DEA, CIA, and on and on. Or the dance of silence from the narcos at the top, black-hat politicos themselves who’d finally amassed enough of something to lose by talking.
When truth was unattainable, she’d take silence over lies any day. But criminals, particularly low level ones, usually had little, if anything to lose. So honesty was usually attainable. To a point, anyway.
On the heels of that, it turns her gut with pity to realize Julian, who started off with little himself, now has nothing. Mother on hospice, both brothers dead, and set to go right back to Calipatria prison in the States. He only got out for the funeral. The last one he’ll attend maybe ever; a statement, in isolation, that sounds like a good thing, if you don't think about the fact that it’s only because no one’s around left to die.
The waiter comes around to take their order, and she opts for a latte to kill the caffeine headache brewing behind her eyes, her usual morning coffee but another casualty in her whiplash decision to go to the funeral. Julian orders black coffee and chocolate chip pancakes with a side of French fries instead of hash browns because though they’re both potato-based, he doesn’t like the texture of hash browns. Or at least, that’s the answer he gives when her brows furrow, questioning the distinction.
The menus are cleared, their coffees brought, and Andrea taps the rim of hers after taking a long sip, not sure how to begin.
Julian seems to pick up on this, “Mira,” and opens the conversation with an air of lending a hand, an unexpected desire to help that brings her relief, “voy a contestar a toda tus preguntas, porque me diste una excusa para quedarme aqu�� en Tijauna un poquito más. Así qué tómate tú mejor tiro.”
“Hmmm,” Andrea turns this over. That’s the best thing a reporter can hear, ‘I’m an open book.’ It rarely happens with any real transparency but this time it is. And of course, this time she has no idea what the fuck to ask. So, she starts off easy, “Prefieres que te llamo Julian o el alias de pandilla, Bugsy?”
“A mí, tampoco no importa. Prefieres que hablamos en espańol o inglés?”
Andrea responds in English, “I don’t mind either, either.”
Mid-sip, Julian chuckles into the edge of his mug, splashing a bit of coffee back onto his nose and cheeks. Mopping it up with a napkin on the table, he takes the opportunity to set things straight. “Bugsy’s not my gang name, by the way.”
“Qué?”
“No me lo dieron la pandilla. Fue un apodo de mi hermano, Matteo.”
Intrigued, Andrea’s eyebrows shoot up. A seemingly mundane detail, its significance betrayed only by the fact that he wanted to set the misconception straight in the first place. That, and the mention of the other Corona brother, Matteo. Who she knew a little bit about. Shot and killed by police more than fifteen years ago for allegedly breaking out of a mental health facility. Along with his obituary, she’d read the only two or three existing, very short news articles about the incident, nothing more than a paragraph in the dailies.
“Okay, Julian,” she goes with his given name. Because now she knows Bugsy’s a family name, it feels improper to use it, being a total stranger. Like she hasn’t earned it. “I don’t–” Unable to continue, she looks off to the side at the ocean lapping at the shore, trying to gather concoctions of words and images into some semblance of form and thought.
“It’s okay,” Julian shrugs. “I know who you are.”
Her head snaps back at attention. “Sorry?”
“I know you work at La Voz and that your boss is Jesús Blancornelas.”
Andrea leans back in her chair, massaging her temples, and looking up at the red and mint green stripes of the umbrella shading their table.
“Lo siento,” Julian offers, like he’s speaking to a stray cat he’s got cornered but is trying not to spook. “I didn’t mean that in any typa way. S’not a threat or nothing.”
The front two legs of her chair come down hard, shaking their table. He’s so earnest and she can’t figure out if she wants to punch him for it or cry. She can’t figure out fucking anything anymore. The only thing she can begin to ask to make some sense of any of the bullshit she’s been through in the last six months is, “Why. I just wanna know why.” 
And like that, there they are. The words, out of her mouth, spilling onto the table now for both of them to deal with.
“Why David did it?”
David. So foreign. It was always his full name, David Barrón Corona, or just Barrón Corona. One of the Corona brothers. Sicario for the AFO. Not David. But instead of saying any of that, she just nods for him to continue.
“Well, I don’t know much. Everything we get– y’know on the inside, is piecemeal. But last I talked to him, I know things were going in a direction he didn’t like, y’know. Bystanders, priests,” he motioned with an open hand at her across the table, “journalists, people not in the game. Just wasn’t down for all that, chu’know. That ain't how we came up.”
His English is accented with that Chicano lilt she’s heard in movies and she wonders if his brothers sounded the same. Again with the mundane details, but she needs them. She’s using them. He scratches the corner of his mouth, waiting patiently for her to take her turn in the conversational volley, but she’s too busy deconstructing monsters in her head with mundane details. Harder to hate up close.
So, after another sip of his coffee, he continues, “Y’know where we come up,” he shrugs, looking behind him as if where he came up is right behind him, and in a way it is, “where we come up, options are hard to see your way to when all you’re trying to do is catch your breath. Our dad–” Pausing to look at the ocean, Julian crosses his arms and clears his throat. Dad is clearly a sticky subject. “Our dad tried to prepare us for the world, in his way. My brothers got it worse than me but I saw enough. And as we got older, everyone around us was turning to the clickas, pandillas como las llamas aquí. Y’know most’d tell you it was to make a buck but it was prolly more to belong.”
Andrea seizes that. “Is that why you guys did?”
Caught in a memory, Julian smiles wryly, “Well, Matteo? Matteo didn’t really belong anywhere, even where he did. But I guess in his own way, yeah. To belong but also as a means to an end. 'Cause we wouldn’t have got the old man out the house without the Red Steps.” He takes a sip of his coffee, like that’s that.
She has the urge to poke holes in that declaration, but something stops her. What he said about options. Choices. How they’re hard to see when you’re just trying to catch your breath. So, instead of arguing, she follows his lead, getting caught up in a memory that’s not hers and doesn't need to be. “So … Matteo was the first domino to fall?”
“Correcto. Y despues de eso, David se une a Matteo, eso fue todo. But the thing is, and,” he shrugs, “this might disappoint you,” looking at her with a sorrow that might look like pity if he had an ounce of condescension in his body, before he  breaks the news gently. “It wasn’t a tragedy. For them, for any of us. 'Cause guess what never happened after that? No one surprised us in the middle of the night with military drills, no one got drunk and pushed us into crowded streets with traffic, claiming it was ‘a test’ to see if we’d flinch 'cause, ‘only pussies flinch and get fucked over by life.’ No one yelled at me to finish my peas till I puked at the dinner table. Shoplifting travel bottles of Yukon Jack when the punishment was six months in YA if we got caught. White-knuckling it in the passenger’s seat, drunk driving ninety miles an hour on the 101 freeway at three in the morning. All that? Over.”
Now Andrea's looking down at the table, itemizing that harrowing list in her head that’s left Julian nearly breathless. Hearing it out loud, one after another, she can’t help but feel for him. For them, their family. But  just as she’s about to give way to too much compassion, the fire in her chest erupts, back to a roar, thinking of all the kids on the streets of Tijuana with no fathers. Fathers taken from them too soon. Like Jesús almost was. Like her own was. More fathers than she could keep track of. There were estimates, people tried keeping track, but those were just numbers. Too far away from what mattered.
It’s like he can see the fury building in her right there but if he can't, he addresses it. “I’m not saying it was the right thing– fuck, I’m not even saying it was the only thing to do. There were a lotta options. But no one told us. So, we were never keeping track. Now? In prison? I got nothing but time to keep track. I know exactly what me, Matty, David could’ve done different. But I can’t change what we did. Just try to remember that choice is the only control I have.” He laughs but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “And you best believe that’s a near impossible task where I’m at,” the first sign of bitterness he’s exhibited this whole time but it’s gone as fast as it comes. “But in a lotta ways, prison took away the noise real early for me. The distractions. The expectations of others, of life. What a man’s s’posed to be, s’posed to do. I can’t think in ‘supposed to’ anymore, only what is, what I can do with that. If anything.”
He stops mid-thought, exhaling energetically and Andrea gets the impression that this is the most he’s said out loud in a long time. To anyone. Or maybe it’s  just a heavy topic and a long day and he’s tired. She doesn’t know this kid that well, Julian. But she has to give it to him. He knows how to close. She purses her lips, digesting what he’s said, deciding to match his transparency with her own.
“Well, Julian. I hear a lot of bullshit in my line of work. And I wasn’t certain what I’d find here, but of course, you have to understand I always prepare myself for that inevitability.” He chuckles at that and the muscles in her temples soften, eyes cast down to look at her hands, as she picks her cuticles nervously. “But you've laid out your truth, so I’ll lay out mine. I came here ready for it. Ready to hate him. Wanting it even. I’d hate you if you’d given me the slightest justification. I came here expecting all the things I’d read and heard to be confirmed, that the monsters I’d made in my head were real because it’s so much easier–” she trails off. Easier to what?
She doesn’t know, all she knows is, "it’s easier to–” she huffs, frustrated. Where are the words? Why can't she find the right ones? Oh, fuck it. “Eas– ugh, because it’s just fucking easier. And all I want is for this to be easy because everything else is hard. But you met me with nothing but you and the truth. And all I feel is guilty that I can’t hate either of you.” She throws her hands up in defeat, letting them land on the table. The contact rattles the table and their cups. “But I can’t. I can't, I can't. Because the more I learn, the more it becomes clear that nothing is simple. And that the world isn’t made up of heroes and monsters. Just broken people balancing between the two.”
He laughs, “Yeah, well,” like none of that surprises him. Although given everything he’d been through, there were probably precious few things that surprised him. He surprises her though with what he does next, less because it happens and more because he didn’t lose a tooth to her fist for doing it. “My mother used to tell us the only certain thing is absurdity and uncertainty,” he says, reaching across the table for one of her hands, then bringing it on the table to hold in both of his, dark eyes pleading with her own. “And the best way to deal with it is to say the things out loud. Call it what the fuck it is.”
An honest-to-goodness, real and genuine smile smile breaks out across Andrea's face and deepens as she’s filled with relief that she’s still capable of forming one, the still in working order. She was scared the mechanism might’ve been broken forever. Squeezing his hand like she can telegraph gratitude through her fingertips, she gives a nod, “Thanks.”
He beams back at her like the sun. 
About to let go of his hand, she remembers what she’d thought about earlier – how he started off with little and has nothing to lose because he has nothing now – and grips it tighter still, “Hey, Bugsy,” drawing a puzzled look from him. “About your brother. I’m j– I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“Just ... for everything.”
taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord, @narcolini, @ashlingnarcos, @drabbles-mc, @artemiseamoon
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the-sand-guardian · 10 months
Text
Chapter 3: The Hospital of the Damned
Sneeg has an encounter in the psych ward with a familiar face. Charlie gets paid a visit. Ranboo begs for forgiveness.
This is the third chapter of my ongoing Generation Loss fic, Still Feel. I have the oneshot that sparked this whole thing up on here, Ao3, and Wattpad.
TW/CW// Religious trauma, hospital setting, unprofessional medical staff, intoxicated characters, derealization/dissociation
Word count: 2071 (Minus Author's Note)
Chapter one link: https://www.tumblr.com/the-sand-guardian/724559167319359488/chapter-1-the-survival-of-the-three?source=share
Chapter 3 below the Read More
Sneeg had thought that his own hospital stay had taken ages. Something about the sterile smell and long identical hallways never failed to chill him. The mingling sounds of beeping, computer keys clacking, and phones ringing fogged over his brain. The awful medley made him unable to think properly. Even the fluorescent lights and the glum looks of families gave him the ick. Needless to say, his few weeks in the building had been terrible, though he was thankful he wasn’t in Ranboo’s position. 
His time in the psych ward had been better than when he was receiving physical treatment. He much preferred stringless sweatpants and gripped socks to hospital gowns. He would often ask the doctors and nurses there about Ranboo and Charlie, as oftentimes the stress of worrying about them made his condition much worse. 
One morning, a young man was checked into the ward after moving from the hospital, just like Sneeg had. He couldn’t help but feel a wave of recognition wash over him as he looked at the other. The man was a bit shorter than he was, had bleached white hair, wore glasses, and was referred to by the staff as “Ethan.” Rumours spread amongst the more seasoned patients that eventually made their way down to Sneeg. 
“He was practically torn open when they found him,” One woman had whispered at breakfast. “He’ll show you the scars if you ask.” Sneeg decided very quickly that he wouldn’t ask. 
“His left eye’s fake, he lost it in whatever happened.” Another had chimed in. “He takes it out before bed.” Sneeg made sure to look Ethan in his right eye when he spoke to him. 
Sneeg began to ignore the rumours he heard, or at the very least be respectful of what he ended up catching anyways. He could only wonder what they must be saying about him now. Perhaps Ethan had heard equally heinous rumours about him. He choked down the pounding in his chest and decided to sit down with him one day after therapy. 
“Hey man,” He said quietly. “I’m Sneeg. You seem lonely,” He looked over at Ethan. Both of his eyes moved together. 
“Oh- uh, hey. I’m Ethan, I guess.” He messed with his glasses a bit, refusing to look him in the eye. 
Sneeg waited a moment before speaking again. “So, where’re you from?” 
Ethan opened his mouth a few different times, struggling to speak. “I don’t… quite know. I think- I think I had a fish though.” 
Sneeg tried not to shiver as he tried to remember if he’d had the conversation before. Something about him seemed so painfully familiar, but he couldn’t remember where they had met before. He studied his face for any sort of hint, but none came. In fact, the fresh scars that stretched across his face made him less recognizable. 
“That’s…odd.” He mumbled. “Do I know you from somewhere?” 
“Oh my god, you feel it too,” Ethan covered his mouth with his hands and finally looked at him. “I didn’t wanna be weird but I swear to god I know you.” 
Both men stared at one another for a moment. Sneeg furrowed his brow. 
“Carousel?” He suggested, though the word had very little actual meaning to him. Sneeg had foggy memories of a carousel, but nothing quite tangible at this point. His neck felt heavy, and the room around him began to form a dingy grey wall. Voices mingled around him incoherently, and for a split second he would have sworn there was a camera pointed at him. The ward fell back into place around him and Ethan had put a hand on his shoulder. 
“Hey, hey- you were right,” He shook Sneeg a bit. “Are you good man?” 
“Huh? Oh…oh.” 
“You zoned out pretty hard there for a second. Do you need me to get you someone?” 
Sneeg shook his head. “No- no, I just- I didn’t realize how much that memory would affect me.” He leaned back against the wall. “We both…No, that doesn’t make any sense.” 
Ethan furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side a bit. “No, continue-” 
“I can’t,” Sneeg shook his head. “There’s no point, I shouldn’t have even brought it up.” 
Ethan leaned in a bit to where only Sneeg could hear him. “I’m not going to tell them.”
Sneeg looked at him for a second before shaking his head. “No, I can’t, I wanna get better.” 
Ethan’s hand tightened around his arm. “Sneegsnag. I want to remember. Tell me.” He demanded, getting a bit louder and almost looking past him.
Sneeg pulled back away from him. “Ethan, stop! Let go of me!” 
Less than a few moments had passed before a few nurses came to collect Ethan and try to calm him. Sneeg brushed himself off and tried to shake the terrible feeling the whole interaction had given him. He wasn’t supposed to indulge in his delusions, that’s what he had been told. He ignored the aching memories of slime, explosives, and moving walls. Those were all false, they must have been. The mall had been completely empty and abandoned when the police arrived. That’s what investigators had told him. 
His gut said otherwise. 
Flashes of what he could only assume were memories flickered through his mind more and more frequently. He remembered waking up on a carousel and hearing a voice speak to him. The voice was oddly familiar, but he could never put a name or face to it. Sometimes, he would hear the voice in his dreams, too. It was always telling him the same thing: “This is all fake, Sneeg. Open your eyes.” He remembered the camera crew, and the awful masks they wore. “Don’t resist.” The voice had said, but he had run. He still couldn’t fathom how those people- those things- saw him through their masks. Those damned masks that still chilled him. 
“Sneeg- Sneeg, are you alright?” A nurse gently shook him. 
He looked up at the nurse, much sweatier than he remembered being and a bit out of breath. “Huh? What?” He looked around frantically before calming a bit. No cameras, just the cold hospital floors and bare white walls. A few nurses were gathered around him after his quick altercation with Ethan, and one looked over the bruise his hold had left on Sneeg. 
“It’s alright, he’s meeting with a doctor now. We won’t let that happen again.” The first nurse assured him. “May I ask what happened?” She leaned in curiously.
The nearly robotic manner the professional spoke in made Sneeg shift uneasily. He took the ice pack another nurse handed him and shook his head. “It’s nothing, dude just freaked.” He fibbed, knowing anything he said would be twisted around by the few other patients listening intently. 
The nurse’s face fell a little but she nodded. “As long as neither party is injured,” She gave a wide smile before dropping it as her eyes fell to his bruise. “At least too badly.” 
“It’s nothing, seriously. Can I please go and see my brothers?” He looked around the room once more, bouncing a bit where he sat. “I really wanna see them. Are they ok?” 
She looked to another nurse before going back to Sneeg. “We can take you to see them. I can’t guarantee they’ll be awake, though.” 
“I just- I need to see them. Please?” 
She nodded again as Sneeg rose to his feet. The nurse called over another who then escorted Sneeg out of the ward and into the rest of the hospital. He explained to Sneeg that both Ranboo and Charlie were in separate areas, and asked which he’d like to see first. Sneeg stopped only a moment to decide, and ended up choosing Charlie, knowing he’d be up or at least in need of some company. The nurse let the two speak in private, though he lingered about outside the room for when Sneeg was to be brought back. 
Charlie was a bit sedated when Sneeg made it to his room, but he was awake. Sneeg pulled a chair up to the side of his bed to be closer while they spoke. 
“Hey there, Chuck,” He smiled at him a bit. “How’re you holdin’ up?” 
Charlie gave a dazed chuckle. “I’m here, what else can I say?” He returned Sneeg’s smile. “They got me all stitched up.” 
“You’ve been stitched up for a little bit now, I thought?”
“Maybe, I dunno what they did this time” He shrugged before shutting his eyes with a wince. “I wish they’d just fix this fuckin’ headache.” 
“Yeah, it sucks, doesn’t it?” Sneeg nodded. “Did they put you under or just numb you?” 
Charlie took a second to process his words. “Oh, I’m all numb, man. It’s pretty fun actually, I feel like I’m asleep.” He giggled a bit as he leaned back more.
The two continued to speak for a bit as Charlie continued to come back out of his sedation. In the other room, however, Ranboo was doing the same, speaking quietly to themself in the dark. 
“Our father-” They would begin, fighting through the stinging pain that spread across their face before trying again. “Our father, who-” They paused again before weakly clasping their hands in front of their chest as their frail body shook. They drew in a wavering breath before giving up and switching their words. “Dear heavenly father,” they began once more, their eyes welling up with tears. “Please, be with everyone I abandoned. I didn’t mean it, Lord, I didn’t want to… Please- Let them have a better fate than me.” 
Tears flowed freely down their face now, and the effort of speaking became much greater. “I don’t care what happens to me, just don’t let them die the way I was supposed to. Let them make it out, they aren’t as terrible as I’ve been. At least let them die in peace, Lord.” A sob pushed its way from him. “I’m so, so sorry…” He fell into the familiar rhythm of apologies before the stinging pain in his face became impossible to ignore and filled him with nausea. 
His chest rose and fell quickly as he clutched his fingers together ever tighter. Their stomach threatened to heave, so they laid back down and hoped no nurse or doctor would come to check on them for the time being. His mind raced from the prayer he tried to stick to back to the room he was found in. There was no way the two had just decided Ranboo was worth saving after all he had done. Hell, he was the reason both of them had died. They clenched their jaw to the point their teeth hurt as their tears flowed over the stitches and scarring over their face. They tried to think of a reason why either would want to come back for them, especially Sneeg. Ranboo hadn’t even gone to look for Sneeg; they had stopped entirely with Charlie. Sneeg must have been terrified, wandering the mall all on his own, surrounded by Showfall employees and completely clueless as to what was really happening. He thanked God for Charlie going back to find Sneeg. 
And what had Charlie been thinking? Maybe Charlie wouldn’t even be in the hospital if Ranboo hadn’t woken him up. Charlie could have lived what he believed was his normal life in peace, without the stress of Knowing looming over him menacingly. They prayed that he would be able to feel normal after everything. They parted their lips as they continued their silent prayer, hoping their Lord would forgive them for apathetically watching their friends’ fight for survival and doing nothing. Perhaps when they finally just died they would be free of the worry. 
They drew in a shaking breath and hovered their thumb over the button that administered another dose of painkillers. Though their nausea and the sting of their wounds refused to die down, they refused to press it. This is what he deserved, he reasoned. To feel the pain that he’d imprinted onto others. To remember it, and savour its taste on his tongue. They moved their hand completely across their waist, not even wanting to be tempted by relief. 
Dizzy laughter from the other room floated down the hall only to be completely squashed by the time it reached Ranboo’s room, but perhaps it was better that way. 
<><><><><><><><><><>
AN: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter as I think you can tell lol. I love writing characters with familiar traumas as it's kinda therapeutic in a way. I definitely could have kept writing but I really liked the final line of this chapter so I shipped it off to my editor at the length it's presently at. I hope you enjoyed it, comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated!
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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years
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Chapter 7: Easy Peasy
-- tw for depression, suicide attemps, panic attacks, I think parental abuse?
Taglist: @because-edmund @blue-aconite
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Jake had never wanted to leave a place more than this in his life. After a week of begging and pleading he finally wore down the nurse and she asked the doctor to release him. 
Although Jake regretted that decision pretty quickly.
There was nothing to come home to. And, there was nothing to go home with. So he stood there in the searing sun for a minute trying to formulate a plan. 
The beach was only a few minutes walk away and he'd be able to find someone with a phone he could borrow. Or, if he wanted a stroll, he could just walk the mile and a half to the Hard Deck. He could just about make out the shape of it in the distance. Looking for pain, Jake picked the latter.
He removed his shoes and socks and sank his feet into the hot sand. His mind was blank as he started walking. 
The late afternoon sun was starting to set. Jake hadn't seen a sunset in years, he used to love them as a teen, but when he tried looking at it now, it just looked off. Like the scene in front of him didn't match the script.
He had tried to kill himself. 
It wasn't the first time but he'd always chickened out before that point. He'd never actually picked up the gun before. He'd never sent the text. He'd never said he loved his mother before.
His mother was a grade A bitch. A rich girl who'd married a rich man and who'd had children to maintain an image. She had been exactly what his father wanted and none of what her children needed. Still, Jake guessed, she did sort of love her. He sent flowers for her birthdays, chocolates for mother's day and perfume for Christmas. But he didn't want to give her more love that she'd ever given him, partly because she didn't think she could handle it. 
But when he sent that text, suddenly she was the most important person in the world to him. He'd wanted to reach out to her, to scream he needed her but he'd done that as a child and he knew the outcome would be a sharp slap to the face and a "Get yourself together, boy!" in a tone that was colder than ice. 
The Hard Deck was closed but Jake knew that meant nothing. If he went in, he'd see the team and Mav playing pool. 
Jake sniffed his shirt. He smelled normal. Sweaty but normal. No sweet stench of death, no black hole of despair in his chest sucking the colour out of his days. It felt wrong. Jake put his socks and his shoes back on, stepped onto the parking lot and walked into the deafening silence of a room where you had been the subject of conversation.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
This was a mistake.
"Hey dude, heard about your accident. I thought you weren't getting discharged before next week" Coyote engulfed him in a side hug and Jake reciprocated. Bob followed right behind him, then Fanboy, Payback and even Phoenix.
This was such a big mistake. They were crowding him. He wasn't ready.
"Give the poor man some breathing room guys!" Maverick shouted, the crowds around him parted. 
"Why don't you have a beer, Hangman" Penny called from behind her bar. He searched her face to see if Mav or Rooster had said anything but he saw nothing. Jake walked up to the bar,
"Actually I'll just have some water please" 
Rooster leaned next to him
"Yeah Bud, thought you were only getting discharged like, next week. What happened?" He sounded stern. Jake was trying hard not to look at him. Things were getting out of hand. He was finding it hard to breathe. He hoped that neither Mav nor Rooster could see his hand shake as he picked up his glass.
"Going crazy, needed to get out for a walk"
"How'd you convince the nurse?" Payback asked, clapping him on the back. Jake winked, it was better to let him assume something, reality had been worse. He'd begged, he'd promised things he never intended to keep and he'd begged again until she cracked. 
They had all sat down on the ratty old sofas that occupied the back of the bar next to the pool tables. Penny, her kid and Mav had joined too. Jake kept quiet
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Penny's kid leaned over to her mom and whispered something in her ear and Penny looked at him. The Hard Deck's door dinged after a hard gust of wind and Jake felt sick.
He could smell it again. He could taste it. 
He needed to leave now.
Jake stood up, knocking a can of something with his knee, it smelled sweet and felt sticky on his sweatpants. He tried to figure out what it was but the world had lost colour and Oh God he was going to pass out.
Penny looked at him, her lips moved.
"What?" 
"Are you okay?" She sounded so far away. 
Maverick and Rooster moved in unison as Jake stumbled back. He hadn't drunk anything. Jake fell to one knee with a heavy crunch. Pain shot through him like a bullet. 
"Jake. Jake, listen to me." Maverick coaxed him, he was hyperventilating. "Kid, I need you to listen to me. Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay with me son. Breathe in. Breathe out" 
They knew. Everybody knew. They were all such blabbermouths, the entire base would know. He'd never be able to fly again. 
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
"Son? Jake? I need you to stay with me" 
He looked Maverick in the eyes to try to concentrate but he was only there for a second before Jake blinked and his father stared back at him. The urge to stand and run away grew stronger but Maverick touched his face and Jake's father vanished. 
His breathing calmed down til the hyperventilation turned into just being out of breath. 
"Good kid" Maverick clapped his shoulder.
"Told you to eat before coming, didn't I?" Rooster broke the awkward silence in the room. 
" Didn't listen." He chuckled, silently thanking the other man
"Do you ever Seresin?" Phoenix laughed. The room relaxed. Jake steadied himself as he pulled himself up. Next to him, Penny's kid shook a bag of peanuts to get his attention. He grabbed a handful.
The panic was still strong and to avoid another scene, Jake excused himself to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face a few times, taking great care not to look at himself in the mirror. The door swung open and a familiar Hawaiian shirt stopped next to him. Its owner leaning with his back against the wall. 
"Coming here was a bad idea" Rooster stated. "I noticed" Jake wanted to reply, instead he said:
"I know, I need my phone though." 
Rooster nodded and fished Jake's samsung out his jean pocket.
"Where are you going to go?"
"Home?"
"By yourself?"
"Yeah?"
"Nope. I have a spare bedroom, you're staying there now" Rooster said, pushed himself off of the sink and walked out.
Jake scoffed. He checked his phone, thankful that Bradshaw had apparently been charging it since his suicide attempt.
There was a text.
"Hey :) I hope you're feeling better, are you free on Tuesday? Around lunchtime? -- Y/n"
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PoLeit week day 1!! Here we go!
I'm not sure how you should write the opening for these but-- Prompt: Sea (I used the prompt so loosely haha)
tw: death mention
Tolys stared out at the baltic from his seat on the beach. He took a deep breath letting the cold air fill his lungs, he probably should have brought a heavier coat. This is where he came whenever the world felt like too much; and recently it had felt like far too much. So he came here, the beach had changed a hundred times over moved by storms and just the simple waves hitting the beach. But he liked to think that if he squinted enough it looked exactly as it did when he was small playing on the beach with his mother and younger brothers.
Tolys kept glancing down the beach to make sure his dog hadn't run too far off, only to be reminded he left Virgil at home. He wanted to be alone, alone. The wind picked up and he shivered again, his shoes started to get wet as the waves got higher and lapped closer to where he was sitting. He didn't move though, wet socks had never killed anyone. He leaned back on the sand and closed his eyes, just a moment, he thought to himself. Just a moment to pretend everything was as it had been hundreds of years ago...
"Tolys!" A voice called for him but he ignored it, in his state of pretending thinking it was his mind making up one of his brothers calling for him as they played. "Tolys! Like what are you doing??" That wasn't Vakaris or Raivis though, he opened his eyes seeing Feliks lean over him. "Are you okay?"
Nodding he mumbled back, "I'm fine, what are you doing here?" 
"Well," The polish man sat down next to him, his nose wrinkling at sand getting on his clothing. "I showed up at your house, cause you're like basically always home" 
"I'm not always home"
"You're always home, but I went inside and Virgil was still there, but you weren't, and you don't go anywhere without Virgil" Feliks gave him a look over that. Virgil was Tolys' service dog trained specifically to help with his ptsd and anxiety. It was Feliks who had taken months to talk Tolys into getting him when they found out he was eligible. 
"I wanted to be alone," Tolys sat up leaning his head against his friend's shoulder. "Plus it's just the beach, it's not like I was going to be around other people" 
"Tak, tak, tak, sure whatever, but you don't know someone could show up, and they could like...look a little too much like him" Neither had to say a name to know exactly who they were talking about, and in honesty Tolys wished Feliks hadn't brought Him up. 
Feliks went into rattling on about whatever he had come to see Tolys about in the first place, Tolys wasn't really listening, instead letting his mind wander as he sat between mourning his solitude and being glad Feliks showed up before he let himself get too sad. 
He moved a bit to be able to see his friend's face more clearly, the thought showed up as it had a million times before, Feliks was quite attractive wasn't he? Tolys liked to convince himself that he was just jealous of the confidence he had. But his mind always took him back to when they were children: before even the Northern Crusades. They had met on a beach like this, on a day where the weather wasn't much unlike it was today. Feliks was the quiet one back then, not yet living by his motto I'm alive because the universe doesn't want me to be. Tolys wasn't loud, but he wasn't so scared of the consequences of every word that came out of his mouth, he wasn't so scared of people listening. They weren't friends. But Tolys could swear that at eleven years old on that beach he got his first crush. 
It would be centuries before they truly spent time together, but when they ran into each other it was always by the sea. A conversation here and there over decades can build quite an acquaintanceship when you're immortal. Feliks was always there though... he was the first person he told about his brother's disappearance, and his mother's reaction afterwards. Feliks was there when Tolys first saw Gilbert across the battlefield, 
"it's Vakaris, it's my dead brother, he's alive" Tolys knew he had to have repeated it a hundred times, but Feliks just listened to him ramble on. Talking about how it must be, but can't be, Tolys never had time to mourn Vakaris between taking care of himself, Raivis, and their mother; it never happened. But Feliks was there when Prussia was dissolved, when Gilbert was buried with a name that Tolys would cry about not belonging to his brother. Feliks would be there for the months of mixed emotions, tears for what could have been if the Northern Crusades had never happened, anger over how everything had happened; some of that anger even directed towards Feliks. 
All of that made Tolys wonder, what if their marriage had gone differently? It was proven that they could put up with each other at the very least. At the most they, well, Tolys didn't know what they were at most. The marriage was political, they had never let it go farther than that. Tolys sometimes thought Feliks wanted it to be more than that, why was he still coming around if he never did? But during their marriage and even now he shook his head at the idea, all these thousands of years, something would have been said. 
But now Tolys was just happy to have Feliks as a friend, sometimes he wanted a title more than that, and maybe one day he would pluck up the courage to admit it and get that title. But for now, he was just happy to have a friend to sit next to the sea with.
@polietweek2022
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lloydenthusiast · 10 months
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greenflower drabble! fjord bfs
no tws for this one! just some fluffy (like sickeningly sweet) greenflower! hope yall enjoy <3
He dips his fingers into the sand, scooping up a handful of it. It’s wet, dark, grayish, the particles sticking to his fingers as he spreads them apart with his thumb. It’s cool, almost cold. He brushes the sand off of his hands. Or, at least, attempts to. It leaves his hands speckled with grains, and only after he wipes his hands on his pants does it go away.
“Lloyd!”
Lloyd looks up, instinctively smiling at the sound of his voice, turning to see Brad standing in the fjord with the water up to his knees. He holds the bunched up ends of his pants in his hands, his face broken into the brightest smile Lloyd has ever seen. His blue sneakers sit at the edge of the water, flower-patterned socks stuffed carelessly into them. He always has the cutest socks.
The air is chilly, and Lloyd is sure the water is colder, but Brad doesn’t seem to care.
“Come in!” Brad calls.
Lloyd shakes his head fondly, but pulls off his shoes and socks, stepping onto the sand. It’s soft under his feet, as he curls his toes, digging into it.
Slowly, he steps a foot into the water. He yelps “it’s so cold!”
“Don’t be a wuss!” Brad laughs. “Come on!”  
Lloyd shoots him a glare, but slowly makes his way into the water, after tightly rolling up his pants, carefully watching each step. He wouldn’t want to step on a rock. Or a crab. Or a piece of seaweed. Or whatever lives in a fjord, if anything.
That all being said, Lloyd doesn’t know if he’s ever seen water so clear. This is all so … lovely.
“Hurry up already!”
And yet, there is something, or someone, far more lovely before him. Lloyd looks up at Brad. He’s incredible, truly. His hair whips in the wind, brown curls messy and haphazardly beautiful. He’s beaming like Lloyd’s never seen. Lloyd didn’t think it was possible to fall more in love with him, but here he is, falling even harder.
He wades toward him, hugging himself tightly as a chilliness travels through his veins. As he walks, Brad folds the ends of his pants over to free his hands. He holds one out for Lloyd.
Lloyd takes it. His hand is warm, warmer than the air, warmer than the water, warmer than anything else. Brad gives his hand a squeeze and tugs him close. Lloyd stumbles slightly but Brad steadies him with an arm around his waist.
“Careful,” he says, no longer yelling.
“That was your fault.”
“Oops.” Brad doesn’t even sound the slightest bit apologetic. “You looked cold.”
Lloyd tucks himself under Brad’s arm. “Just a bit,” he says. “Also your fault.”
Brad chuckles. “It’s pretty, though,” he says. “Isn’t it?”
Lloyd hums.
“Not as pretty as you, though.” Brad kisses Lloyd’s forehead.
Lloyd scoffs. Usually he’d shove him away, but he’s too cold to care that much. “You sap.”
“You love it.”     
“I just love you.”
“Who’s the sap now?”
Lloyd pulls away, looking up at him. He cups Brad’s cheek with a hand and pulls him down for a kiss. Brad’s lips are warm. Warm like his hands, warm like him. Like the warmth that blooms in Lloyd’s chest as they kiss.
Brad pulls away, resting his forehead against Lloyd’s. Lloyd lets his eyes fall shut.
He’s at ease.
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Sigma past-related H/Cs
TW: Mentions of non-consentually touches and a bit of PTSD
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-Sigmas heel origin:
+Whenever he finds himself before a taller man, it reminds him of his head being lowered before armed-men that order him around, so he wears heels to avoid this as much as possible.
+Another reason, this time, for his socks, is that he hates the hot, burning sand he was forced to step in for years, so he always wears socks as a sort of shield to forget the bearness and heat he once went through.
-All though he was never sexually violated, he still got non-consentually (?) touched due to having a female-like appearance.
-He still remembers the names and faces of those that used him till this day.
-His train ticket is still stuffed somewhere in his closet.
-He once encountered a man with a face simaler to someone from his past, and all though he treated him fairly, he gained anxiety of the fact that one day, someone from his past may just visit his Casino, and that thought alone brings him to chills.
-Due to his dislike to heat and desert, he keeps the Casino as cool as possible.
-His favorite color is green, due to it being the farthest from the desert scene (yellow, orange, blue) and to him, represents freedom. Also a reason he likes plants and flowers (one of my h/cs)
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emma-williams · 2 years
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Foraging with Friends || Emma & Emmie
Tagging: Emmie Fitzgerald @emmie-fitzgerald & Emma Williams Mentions: @riley-francis-moore, @xaviernottheprofessor, @castillodeleon Notes: Emmie & Emma go on a walk to look for food. Along the way, they find stuff to talk about. Triggers: Non-specific mentions of Emmie’s sick father, so terminal illness tw; discussion of getting high on marijuana & magic mushrooms
--Emmie--
Emmie was hungry, and it was becoming more of a problem when it came to finding food. With the months that they had been there, it seemed like their choices in food had dwindled - to to mention if she saw another coconut she'd probably chuck it at Chad's perfectly blonde head. "Hey, I know it's probably a lost cause, but do you want to go look for food that's not a coconut or banana?" Emmie asked Emma, "I'm over them.”
--Emma--
Emma was lying in the shade, desperately trying to stay cool because she didn't have access to one of the air conditioned bungalows yet. When Emmie came over to her, she sat up and nodded. "Sure, I'll go with you. Let me grab some better shoes so my feet don't get all cut up," she said. Emma grabbed her hiking shoes and a pair of thick socks that she left in her sleeping bag that morning. "I know I haven't been here long, but the food here sucks, especially as a vegetarian."
--Emmie--
"I have to say, I'm not really that jealous that you're still out here. With how long I was I was pretty sure the producers had a conspiracy to keep me out of the bungalows," Emmie dryly said, before nodding, "yeah I can imagine. Like I'm personally of the opinion that since we're only here like a month more that they should just give us regular food so we can acclimate back to what we're used to eating back home. But I doubt they're going to."
--Emma--
"You shouldn't be jealous of me," Emma chuckled a little. "I know they gave me the chance to participate in an activity when I arrived, but I didn't have the energy to. So I'm okay being on the beach for a bit longer." She nodded when Emmie said they should start to give them regular food. "I agree. We're all going to get sick when we get back if our eating habits go back to what they were right away."
--Emmie--
"I get that, when I first got here I had some days where I wanted to be lazy. I actually lost the first challenge for our team because I had absolutely no hiking stamina," Emmie admitted with a shrug, "Yeah exactly, and like I've been living here since like last year, I honestly can't even remember what some of my favorite foods taste like. Like Pad Thai? Korean BBQ? I don't know them anymore."
--Emma--
“I’m sure I will get a bit more stamina as I walk around, but right now I’m just getting used to it. Walking around on sand is no joke,” Emma chuckled. “I haven’t been here long enough to forget, but that’s so sad. And you’ve been here for so long. I already want to get back.”
--Emmie--
"Yeah I might be in the best shape of my life but I'm not entirely sure that it was worth it," Emmie admitted before shrugging, "I mean I got to go back for a couple days and that was a fucking mistake. So I'm not entirely thrilled about going home, but things at home aren't that great to begin with."
--Emma--
“I feel like my calves at the very least will be so toned from walking in the sand,” Emma grinned. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Emma had heard that Emmie went home with a girlfriend and came back single. She wasn’t going to ask about it, though. Emma just wanted a nice journey to look for food.
--Emmie--
"It happens, but at least the producers faked losing the footage so nobody could see it," Emmie admitted, "So I know you watched part of the show, where did you end up leaving off? I'm just curious about things."
--Emma--
“That was kind of them,” Emma said. She could only imagine how hurt Emmie was, and to have the footage disappear was extremely kind of the crew. “Um, I watched the first couple of months. Then I was told to stop because I was moving forward again. So I know all about the lingerie scavenger hunt that everyone complains about.”
--Emmie--
"I think it was more for my Dad. He's sick and he was having a really bad night. And truthfully he's not exactly in a mindset where you can say him signing the waiver was done in with a sound mind." The fact that the words came out surprised Emmie. Of course she had talked to a few people about it, Riley, Seb, and Xavier in particular, but all of that had been because they could tell she had been hurting. Not because she had offered it up on her own. Which said a lot for Emma because she felt comfortable, but also freaked Emmie out because she wasn't accustomed to actually saying these sorts of things on a regular basis. "Sorry, that's super fucking heavy, we don't need to go there," she said, looking around for something that could hep change the subject. "You know, I actually didn't mind that one, I looked really hot, I think they were overreacting. If they want to complain, it should be about the dino suits."
--Emma--
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad,” Emma frowned. “But you don’t have to apologize. Really. I have really heavy stuff in my life and past, too.” She offered Emmie a small grin and kept on walking. “Ha! I didn’t see the dino suits. But I will agree that you looked hot in the lingerie.” Emma just wasn’t going to admit that she watched the episode more than once to see all the gorgeous women in skimpy lingerie.
--Emmie--
"It's fine. I mean, it's not, but there's also not anything that anyone can do about it," Emmie shrugged, "Well then you clearly have good taste," she chuckled, looking at the ground, "Okay are you seeing any signs of food and am I blind? Or is there really nothing."
--Emma--
“If you ever want to talk about it to someone who isn’t a therapist, I’m here for you,” Emma offered. “And if you don’t, I won’t be offended. Promise.” She looked around at the trees and the bushes and shrugged a little. “I really don’t see anything. And I don’t know if those are edible,” she pointed.
--Emmie--
"Thanks, maybe I'll take you up on that sometime," Emmie nodded, though she wasn't sure that she actually would. "Yeah, I don't think they are. And I don't trust any mushrooms that I see here because I don't think any of us want the psychedelics episode of Ship-Wrecked."
--Emma--
“We can trauma dump on each other. Kidding. What a terrible way to pass an evening,” Emma grimaced a little. “Could you imagine!? Oh my gosh. It would either be amazing or terrible television. And we would probably be stuck in the medical tent for observation.”
--Emmie--
"It would probably be amazing for everyone else but we'd be miserable," Emmie grimaced, even thinking about it just made her wince, "I'd rather just stick to pot brownies and call it a day, the chances of people freaking out with those are much lower.”
--Emma--
“We would need a lot of drinks,” Emma said. “I’ve had pot brownies. When I was in college, my roommate made some. And then we just watched a bunch of Disney movies while high. It was amazing,” she chuckled.
--Emmie--
"See that sounds fun. Most of the time that I get high, I just eat a lot of Taco Bell and talk to my books, which apparently is hilarious," Emmie chuckled, "But if you're down, I can make them when we get home."
--Emma--
“You talk to your books?” Emma chuckled. “What do you say?” She wondered. “I’m down for that. We can eat some brownies, order takeout, and watch some movies. Sounds like a fun day.”
--Emmie--
"It depends on the book. Sometimes I yell at the plot twist that I didn't like, or yell that the main character should be gay because she has no chemistry with the two boring old guy love interests," Emmie chuckled, "but yeah I think that sounds like fun too. I hadn't actually thought much about life after the island yet. It's just been a constant for so long."
--Emma--
"That makes sense," Emma grinned. "It's always a shame when women characters have more chemistry with a doorknob than the man they're meant to be flirting with, whether it's in a book, movie, show, or even real life," she said. "You haven't? Well, let's think about it now. What's the first thing you're doing when you get home?”
--Emmie--
"Checking up on the bookstore, buying more books for my to be read pile, and then I want to just cuddle up with blankets and read a whole book in one sitting," Emmie said after thinking for a little bit, "And just enjoy the silence. We don't really get that here. What about you? What do you want to do?"
--Emma--
“That sounds nice, honestly. Silence is good. And obviously you don’t have a private bedroom here. So you can’t completely escape the silence,” Emma nodded. “I haven’t been here long enough to really miss anything. But I would love to just be able to cook for myself again. Real food. Not the very limited stuff here.”
--Emmie--
"Silence is one of my favorite sounds, I really miss it," Emmie smiled before laughing, "yeah you're lucky you just get long vacation kind of vibes. Just with no food because we ate it all. But what's your favorite thing to cook?"
--Emma--
“I’ll shut the fuck up if it’ll make you happier,” Emma offered with a smile. “Unfortunately, it’s a long vacation where I don’t get to sleep in a fancy hotel or eat food from a mildly shitty continental breakfast,” she chuckled. “I make really good fried tofu and stir fry. Ever since I became a vegetarian, I have experimented with a lot of recipes and flavors. I don’t even miss meat, honestly.”
--Emmie--
"Nah you're not annoying like some people are," Emmie said shaking her head, "That sounds really good. Like I am a decent enough cook but it's not my favorite, so like my signature dish is like kraft mac and cheese."
--Emma--
“Thank you,” Emma chuckled. “Sometimes you just crave Kraft though. And nothing will scratch that itch like that orange powder cheese. It’s part of the reason I could never be vegan. Vegan cheese is gross,” she scrunched her nose. “Plus, I enjoy pizza too much.”
--Emmie--
"Exactly, like there's something in it and I don't want to say it's drugs, but it very much could be drugs," Emmie laughed, before sighing, "And now I really want mac and cheese. Why can't that just grow in the jungle, I think everyone would love that."
--Emma--
Emma chuckled. “Must be drugs. Cheap, delicious drugs,” she shook her head. “I would love if that grew in the jungle. I think we’re just walking around for nothing, unfortunately. It doesn’t seem like there is anything worth eating.”
--Emmie--
"I think we have been too, there's only so much rice we can eat," Emmie said, yelling at the tree that look the most suspicious which she assumed probably had a camera in it, "I wish there was something, but we probably ate it already."
--Emma--
She chuckled a little when Emmie yelled at a tree. “I’m sure we did,” Emma nodded. “Maybe they’ll cave and give us food soon,” she said. “We should probably turn back. If we walk too much longer, my feet will probably fall off. I’m not used to this kind of terrain.”
--Emmie--
"I sure hope so, like I am legitimately worried about getting sick when we get home just because of how different the food with be," Emmie admitted before nodding, "Yeah I don't think we're going to find anything either. Maybe someone else will have better luck."
--Emma--
Emma nodded. “I feel like that is a rational concern. I hope it doesn’t happen though,” she said as they started to walk back. “Maybe. Maybe one of the tall men on the island will be able to find something. They have the height advantage.”
--Emmie--
"They do, though I hate to need them for anything, even if they do have that kind of advantage. I've always been too independent for my own good," Emmie admitted, "but I guess we can ask if anyone else found anything since we're almost back."
--Emma--
Emma nodded. “If you want, I can be the one to ask them,” she suggested. “Then it is me being dependent on their height, not you,” she shrugged. “Yeah, thank goodness for that.” The moment they reached the sand, Emma took off her shoes. “What are the producers doing way out here? Is someone in trouble?”
--Emmie--
"Ooooooooo I hope so, we could use some drama," Emmie said a little too excited as she walked over to where they were talking, only to hear that they were going to be giving them food from this point on - and that Emma was going to be given a bungalow.  "Well, that was unexpected," she finally said when they finished talking.
--Emma--
She knew Emmie liked drama, but when Emma heard the real announcement, she was all smiles. They were getting food and she was getting a real bed. "Very unexpected! But this is great news. Maybe we'll be roommates."
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whumpberry-cookie · 2 years
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(Well... I don't have any idea for a scene with a sock from @painsandconfusion request buuut.... I can still offer you-
Some Tiny Whumpee ideas
"Have you ever think about it? For you falling from the height of this ceiling is almost like for a human to fall from the 8th floor. Do you think it's enough to kill you? Let's hope I can catch well"
Whumpee trapped inside freshly assembled Violin (the sound holes are too narrow to escape). The only way to take them out is to destroy the instrument which Whumper obviously wouldn't do. The darkness, the noise, claustrophobia and panic!
Whumper casually holds Whumpee by the collar above the boiling soup/draining sink/cat "Don't wriggle so much. Maybe you are little, but my fingers still can slip"
Whumper is an office worker, so Whumpee's their personal desk pet to sit near the screen and watch. Whumpee's just too tired and can't stay awake, they fall right into Whumper's coffee cup "Look what a mess you've made"
If it's a team whump - dollhouse locked or taped close. If it's only one Whumpee, then Whumper might force them to pretend to be a family with plastic dolls to humiliate them.
Whumpee tries to escape by the window. They crawl outside through the narrow gap but don't notice the mosquitaire on time. Whumper closes the window after them and traps Whumpee pressed between the mosquitaire and the glass.
Whumper's carrying Whumpee around in a glass snuffbox inside the jacket pocket like a kay chain.
"Oh, maybe you're tiny but you're not a baby. Stop crying, I was just joking" said after trapping Whumpee under the lid of the frying pan and dousing with olive oil and pepper.
Flyswatter! Make them run!
Let's hope Whumper doesn't have any hobby close to spider breeding. It would be a shame if they forced Whumpee to live inside a terrarium with a spider. (There are some gentle species of tarantulas that do not attack and do not come out of their hiding place when they are not threatened or hungry. Of course Whumpee doesn't need to know that)
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