Hello everyone! As you can probably guess from my name, this is basically going to be an account where I post stories from my A03, along with just short drabbles in general.
A quick heads up a good amount of it is going to be framed around the buds for buddies community, so if you are not comfortable with her characters, I do recommend you leave
I also have a blog for one of my AUs (which is currently my only ask blog at the moment.
My Main (mostly me goofing off and talking about fandom things like my alternate universes.):
Also known as Asagothe_fander in certain areas (mainly Wattpad) mainly going to be posting pictures for a series on YouTube Iām doing. Profi
Bite the bullet ask blog:
A budsforbuddies alternate universe that takes place after the Scrappy questions series. This will mostly be a text blog, however, main part
My A03:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
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Follow @wip-sideblog and get more of the good stuff by joining Tumblr today. Dive in!
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Survived AU except I torment Avery just a bit before they can be happy yaoi
Very shitty explanation, I will make no attempts to even try to be coherent because uhm mayo
Avery is essentially just depressed for months after new years because of the whole huluhbuhloo and is trying desperately to find even traces of Derek all over the internet, and also looking like a stalker while doing it. He has constant reoccurring nightmares of just being in that world, being at the crossroads and trying to turn right only to end up at the gates anyway, or sometimes just feel himself pulled toward the left. His nightmares feel like hours of just looping each area he searched in that world, sometimes even waking up in that one lake by the church, or ending the dream in it only to wake up sweaty and just wholly uncomfortable(eughā¦.). Sometimes heād get the opportunity to see his reflection, realizing that in his dream it was never his Minecraft skin. Because he was the one who failed Derek.
Heās also strangely repulsed by apples now.
Within about a month he manages to find an old abandoned Facebook account of a Diane Hutchins where she had posted different photos of her son all throughout his life, or like at least half of it. He finds the most recent photo, one of a graduation photo and another user tagged, it being Derekās own account. Great.
For hours every few days, he just scrolls both of the accounts, trying to get a grasp of the person whoād literally saved him, whoād known him before they could even hear each others voices. In his nightmares, Derek is there now. Sometimes his Minecraft skin, sometimes his real face, but itās always the same when heās too far apart or pushing him off the edge.
Okay enough Avery pov
Wahoo weewoo Derek lives, hooray ! We neglect all logic and reason, he hospital
His mom was lucky enough to have been visiting at the time as Derek lived alone, finding her son literally unconscious and barely breathing at his desk with a dead laptop. He gets hospitalized and takes about a month to recover before heās stabilized enough to rest at home. He has really weak legs and a broken wrist(which he figured out he got from falling off his seat when he passed out), so heās still mostly unstable, to which his mom decides to live with him for a while because of it. He does not oppose.
At this point, he knows the depressive nature Avery has sunken in but heās still very much afraid to even try to contact him because he fears what could possibly happen if Avery interacts with him now that heās fused with the kiy. So he sits there, wallowing in guilt as he watches his boyfr,, I mean uh ffrriend get worse day by day week by week. Eventually he just canāt sit still anymore and opens his old account, looking through some archived posts and stopping at a specific one. He knows where Avery lives, heās just city away. In fact, he was just 27 minutes away. He knows the village he currently lives in was where Avery used to live as a kid, and he knows Avery even visited within the last year. So he very well knows that the moment he unarchived this post(this post that showed himself in front of his own house), this post in the account that Avery would scroll through for hours on end, he knows that Avery would bolt for it.
So he hesitates.
He hesitates for 2 weeks.
Eheh
He watches as Avery slowly recovers, and he thinks maybe itās okay. Maybe he doesnāt need him anymore. Maybe itās better if he moves on.
And then he sees his nightmares. He sees himself push him off the ledge, time and time again, leading him in loops that can never end. After a particularly bad one, one that spikes a literal panic attack, Derek collapses out of bed, getting to his computer to find the archived post and unarchived it without hesitation. His mom rushing in extremely concerned but Derek doesnāt care. He relaxes now, even despite the pit in his stomach, the anxiety of what would happen within the next few days.
Having this infinite knowledge shit was doodoo
Okay we can bring back Avery POV
A few days after his panic attack, heās back on Derekās Facebook scrolling mindlessly, having pretty much memorized every single post by now, except for that random new one, wow.
.
.
.
Wait.
He scrolled back up, rubbing his eyes as he actually registered something for the first time in the past hour, a post he hadnāt seen before. The date was from about 2 years ago, and it was a picture of Derek in front of a house, a very familiar one. It.. that was his old neighborās house, the one that was empty when heād moved. Before he knew it he was standing up, rushing around the sea of decay that festered in his room, finding his sling bag and throwing in his wallet, phone and power bank before dashing out of his room and out the door, leaving his family confused and worried as heād run right off after not leaving the house since new years.
He ran to the bus station, nearly missing it and clearly peeving the bus driver, but he didnāt care. He sat down and opened his Facebook page again, looking closely at the house, knowing how weird he looked doing so. He was restless the entire trip there, tapping his feet, fidgeting on his bag, trying to regulate his heart beat and breathing.
He reached his stop and bolted out the door, running into the village and trying desperately to scan every house, eventually reaching his old one. He looked at the other side of the road, and there it was. It barely changed, save for some overgrow and the mailbox being a bit busted up. He stepped onto the sidewalk, his heart beating out of his chest, staring at the address plate.
He hesitated.
He stood there still for about 5 minutes before shaking it off, walking along the path leading up to it, even as he worried that itād be a new face at the door, even if he was scared it would be a stranger, or even a family member, hell there could be no one at all.
He knocked. He waited.
1 second.
3 seconds.
7 seconds.
Almost 10-
The door opens.
āAvery..?ā
Okay dump over they made out afterwards thanks for reading
Written by yourdeargatsby, inspired by the comic meadows by @the-cactae , written in collaboration with @the-cactae
~~~
Avery(themayo)Sterling / Derek Hutchins, WIP, POST DAWTDE FIX IT, heavy angst, eventual fluff.
~~~
Avery makes a new world. Well. New world 2, or one, depending on how you see it. He can't forget. He doesn't know how to.
But he tries.
He doesn't like caves. But when the sun hits the angle right on this one, and the armour glints gold and red, and--oh--Avery knows that man, maybe Avery can be redeemed yet.
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A short drabble of an AU my mutual (@enzeyyi hiii I did the thing) made and it gave me Very Specific brain worms. The brain worms called for angst. Again. It made me sad as I talked about it and it made me sad writing it. So now you'll be sad too. I'll quit with the yapping now.
Warning for shitty fictional goverment organization (DMS), character insanity and cruelty. General angst and implied character death.
Derek doesn't know how he got into this situation.
Well, he did know, but it was nicer to think that he didn't know something. As impossible as it is for him as of late.
The white of his cell's walls (and floor and ceiling) was only a little less irritating than that cursed Yellow. DMS was really generous to give him such a spacious room, full of different enrichment tools! Hear the sarcasm? His clothes (the straitjacket, really) were rough on his skin and made it more difficult to breath. His head was swimming from the oxygen deprivation and whatever brain damage that fucking loser had managed to do.
How rude. It is most unbecoming of a young man like you to use such vocabulary.
get out of my head.
Now, now. Surely you know it is not only yours after that little stunt you pulled. At this age you should know how to bear the consequences with dignity, shouldn't you? My knight.
fuck off. and don't call me that. I am not your anything.
I would disagree. At the very least, you are my jailor.
At this point, Derek decided to ignore the annoying whisper in his head. It was much easier to focus on a much pleasant sounds, even if they were from his memory.
'it's you!' 'are you okay?' 'I am staying'
Derlord never in his short years of life had imagined that he would fall so easily and completely for a man he never even met. It didn't matter. He knew him, all of him. So really, it was as easy as breathing to fall for Avery.
He just wishes he had more than Knowledge to fuel his delusions thoughts. He wishes he had apportunities to hear his laughter, his annoyed grumbles, desperate calls and victorious shouts. He wishes he heard in real life, with his own ears, how his name would sound from Avery's mouth.
Would it be sweet and happy? Worried and sad? Wreathed in agony and anger and betrayal-?
Or would it be a confused call of:
"Derek?"
What? Even before Avery spoken up, Derlord's head snapped into the direction of the door. His mouth slack in shock, unseeing eyes wide and unblinking. He doesn't need his sight to see clearly how his soulmate lover friend looks: dark circles under his eyes, over-grown greezy hair, eyes just as wide and frantic as his.
"Ave- Avery?"
He doesn't recognize his own voice, but that's okay. Because even as scratchy and quiet and devastated as it is, it snaps Avery out of his stupor and he almost falls over himself to get to his bed. The DMS workers don't stop him, only watching on intently. As he steps up to where Derek is sitting on the edge of the bed, Avery stops with hands raised in unsure gesture. He almost seems to drink the sight in. It makes Derek conscious of how he looks.
It all flies out of the window the moment he feels warm, shaking hands on his face. They cradle his face with impossible gentleness, thumbs brushing right under his eyes. Derlord knows how they look now, white all over, save for a small ring of Yellow. Avery chokes something terrible, hurting for him. And Derek aches to tell him that it's okay, he is fine, he is just happy that Avery is alive. Selfishly, he wants to apologize for all the pain he had caused him.
Yet, he stays silent, closing his eyes and leaning into his hands.
He hears DMS workers speak before they open their rotten wish you were dead mouths.
"It looks like you two are getting along fine. Good. Hope it stays this way. After all, you will have to spend a lot of time with each other," without much else to say, they turn around and leave them alone, closing the door behind them. And, despite it being white and not that colour, it sound just as much a death sentence as before.
In the quiet that the DMS workers left, there is only one question that swims in his head.
Avery, what did you DO?
The same thing as you. Sacrificed himself in the name of LOVE.
Sort-of continuation of the previous post. This is Avery's POV of the events leading to him ending up in the DMS. Again, angst. Not sure of the quality of the whole thing since it is late as hell where I am, but eh. I've surely done worse. Anyway it's going to touch on some heavy themes of grieving, self-harm, self-hatred and manipulation.
The second shouldn't be super graphic and more on the lines of self-neglect. Still, proceed with caution.
It has been only a week since he lost him. It has been a week since he found the footage, and his letter. It has also been a week since they took it away. He tries to silence the voice that tells him that he doesn't deserve to have even those scraps of a man that sacrificed himself just so Avery could live.
In one day he lost a person he never knew he needed and one of the only threads to him. At least, he still has his own footage. It is a testament to how delusional desperate he feels, that he lost count of how many times he watched it. He doesn't watch the Church part. It makes his brain go quiet in an unpleasant way.
He is pretty sure he is still going through those stages of grief that people talk about. Only he experiences almost all of them in one day. At one point in the day he feels so sad all he does is cry (even if there is no tears left, he just dry-heaves almost to the point of throwing up). Then he would be calm, going about the apartment in useless, mind-numbing motion. In the next, he is smashing the wall with his fist or throws plates on the ground in the fit of rage. One time, he broke a vase he liked and tried to fix it, no matter how broken it was or how sharp the edges of the shards were. He is lucky he didn't need too many bandages, only a couple of band-aids.
All this to say, he was a total mess (not like he wasn't before. It's just he is worse now). He was just going through the vaguely familiar routine of sweeping his apartment, when he felt his head throb with pain and dizzy with something.
It took only a couple of minutes for Avery to sit down at the couch and pass out. He had not seen men open his locked door, or sweep through his apartment, or delete the footage from his computer. Avery didn't feel himself being picked up and carried to the dark car.
Avery became aware in some sort of therapist office. At least, that's what the room he woke up in had reminded him of. Aside from Avery, there was a man sitting at the big light-wood table, dressed in the doctors coat, not lessening the feeling of being at therapist's office.
"Hello, Avery. I hope you rested well," he said mildly, his eyes fixed on Avery, not betraying any emotion. "My name is Dr. Harris, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Yeah, I guess it's a pleasure for me too, but where..."
"Ah, yes, you must be wondering where are you. It's simple, you are at one of the DMS Facilities, housing many... unusual subjects," his eyes travelled to the door behind Avery. "You are here because you have an opportunity to help us with one of our projects. It is of most importance."
"What? What project? What sort of help?" Avery was very confused. How could he (talentless, stupid, lonely, annoying-) help some, if he were to believe, government organization. It just didn't make any sense.
"Now, now, Avery. All will be explained in due time. As for what sort of help... Well, you see, we recently came into possession of a man with some very interesting capabilities. But he refuses to cooperate," Dr. Harris said the word 'cooperate' as if it tasted wrong on his tongue. "After some trial and error, we deducted that you can be a... key, of sort. To help us get him to cooperate."
Avery blinks slowly at the man. His lack of sleep (watching his footage over and over over and-) catching up to him slowly. He nods and tilts his head. "Who is it that you need... convincing? And how do I play into it?"
"Well, you might have heard his name. Derek."
***
He follows them down some corridors, not really paying attention after what they told him. It was as unbelievable as the fact he was alive after the whole event with the gates. He shouldn't be. Maybe if he wasn't, Derek would still be here. He deserves it more than Avery does.
In his thoughtful mood, he doesn't notice the stop in front of an unassuming door. He doesn't notice it opening or the guards pulling him inside. He does, however, notice the man.
"Derek?"
The name tumbles through his lips ungracefully, unnaturally, no matter the amount of times he cried it out in pain over the last week.
"Ave-Avery?"
Hearing his name, from who could only be Derek, even as rough as it is, is a blessing. He moves without a second thought, breaching the distance between himself and Derlord.
He can't help himself, he stares at the man he ached to see so much. He is both different from how he imagined him and exactly how he thought about him. His stubble is beautifully uncared-for, cheeks sunken from stress and malnourishment (not like Avery has much to say in this department either) and his eyes... Oh, his eyes.
They are perhaps the most gorgeous and devastating feature on Derek's face. He doesn't stop himself from cradling it in his hands when it feels like Der is about to hide himself in his long hair. He swipes under those captivating eyes, the yellow in them not even nauseating as it usually is.
He hears vaguely how DMS workers say something and leave. He doesn't care. He doesn't care that he is somewhere unknown, doesn't care that he is stuck there. He certainly doesn't care that he metaphorically signed his soul away to the Devil (the government). It all lead him here. To Derek.
It's all worth it in the end. For him. Come hell or high water or eldritch gods. He would stay with him, this time.
All notes and observation were made by Dr. James 72 97 114 114 105 115. All personnel below level A-5 is prohibited from reading the documents. If you do not have the required level of clearance and yet find this document if your possession, do not read it. All documentation has to be in physical format.
Log 1. Day 1.
Status: unresponsive, vitals unstable.
Notes: our forces have successfully extracted the subject. Unfortunately, it is unresponsive why would you do this to us? at this time. It is uncertain how much damage his brain has sustained, further observation required.
Observations: the damage seems to have been severe enough to cause eye damage. we could have had everything, if you just let me have him Whether the subject is blind or if it just cosmetic is to be seen.
Log 2. Day 1.
Status: unresponsive, vitals stabilized.
Notes: the medics were capable to stabilize the subject. At this time, it still seems to be unresponsive. However, the brain scans suggest that the subject is in the state between dreaming and wakefulness. We are working on the solution as to how to extract the Knowledge. now we suffer together, I hope you are happy, Lorde The funding allows us to use many tools.
Observations: due to how emaciated subject looks, we suspect it would be unable to care for itself. The proper arrangements have been set up.
Log 5. Day 3.
Status: awake, non-coherent, stable.
Notes: we finally see physical and mental activity from the subject. However, it would seem they are hallucinating visions. All we have gotten from them are screams, cries and gibberish. Although, it once mentioned āthe gatesā it was fate, you would always end up here, so perhaps not all hope is lost.
Observations: subject lost its eye-sight. Not a terrible loss, we were more concerned with its ability to speak. Whether they are able to recieve and process input is uncertain as of now.
Log 11. Day 5.
Status: awake, semi-coherent, stable.
Notes: we made a break-through! The subject was given a green marker for a change to draw anything. It has drawn a green figure and after putting the marker down, it has whispered the name āAveryā. Perhaps it is time to acquire a new sort of motivation for the subject. I will propose this idea to the rest of the team, although I predict they will agree with me.
Log 14. Day 6.
Status: awake, stressed, less then semi-coherent, stable.
Notes: the plan is put into motion. Soon the motivating factor (MF, in any further notes) fools will be extracted and delivered to the facility. I would need to overview his arrival and integration, but I donāt predict any mishaps. The subject responded well to the recordings of the MF, showing signs of positive brain activity.
Observations: the subject has become quite nervous and twitchy after the slip-up, and as the decision have been made, it has become very agitated. Perhaps it Knows what it has done. No matter. Nothing will change the outcome.
Log 17. Day 8.
Status: awake, pacified, coherent, stable.
Notes: our prediction has been correct. The subject responds to MF better than to any other stimuli. While he has failed to gather any verbal response beside the aforementioned one during their meeting, he has received quite a few grunts and hums of acknowledgement. It is not conversations, but it is progress.
Observations: the mental stability of the subject seems to be on the incline for how long, I wonder. His physical state has not improved, but now its MF would be able to care for it.
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He waited patiently for so long. For an appropriate vessel and a guide, a shepherd for his sheep. Someone loyal to him, who could make sure to deliver his future body to him. Then this someone arrived.
They were smart, cunning and witty. They were also, as humans this age put it, a massive pain in his ass. He warned his vessel, survived the initial Integration and even met with the human to help him escape.
More than that, the human that was supposed to be no more than a scapegoat had bested him. Him, the King himself. Perhaps it was his pride that lead to hubris and defeat. He knows better now. Even if he is not himself, he would make that wormās life Hell on Earth.
It started with the Gate. So, he continued with it as well. Dreams, plagued by the sight of the place where it all begun. Of dimensions beyond human comprehension. Twisting corridors, empty landscapes, oceans of blood and gore, peaceful villages and unsettling decrepit houses. All of that and more, for his captor to go through, to wander and get lost in.
Sometimes, he would show him images of what-ifs. What if his plan hadnāt worked and the scapegoat became the vessel instead? He showed him how he would possess the body and find the little sheep that he meant to use instead. He showed him how he would have killed the vessel with his hands. But what if he never found the Gates? Impossible, but still so sweet. He wouldnāt have known the vessel, wouldnāt have met him. Yet, they would both be alive and happy. Or maybe they would have met, after all. A happy ever-after. His prison in human form always woke up from those delusion-dreams so upset, he would scream and hit his head just to have a chance at returning to that vision. Of course, if he succeeded, the visions to come would be a dozen times crueler.
Sometimes, he would compel his body to draw the Gates, whenever those rats in lab coats brought paper and yellow writing utensils. He would draw and draw and draw, and then wake from the control and realize what happened. First he would whimper in pain, then tear the papers in a fit of rage.
But most of all, he enjoyed giving his incomplete vessel visions of the Gate appearing in real life. A big, Golden arch with Yellow stained glass and pale wood. An imposing sight, burned into his retina enough to see one even without his eye-sight. The knightās breath would come faster and faster, head swimming with panic. The shadows of the entrance would call for him once more, whisper the secrets of the Universe in languages unknown to anyone but him, promises of a happier life with his Fated. As he would approach it in a trance, his steps hesitant and weighted down, the Gates would slam itself shut with a deafening sound. Then, silence would come. He would recall all the presence in the pawnās mind to the very far back, just so he could feel the emptiness and despair.
The wails he would unleash always caused the lab rats to sedate him. It was entertaining, seeing him fight against their hold in denial, broken incoherent screams on his lips.
He knows, that with arrival of his would-be-vessel, things would get only more interesting. After all, it gets boring after some time, to torture the same mortal. Besides, that one would prove quite the vulnerable pressure point, that he was sure of.
We are so back!! This time with some hurt/comfort and fluff. A little domestic bliss with those two. Vaguely set in the Daisy Bloom Au. This time, in the future where they got their happy ending. Some Avery taking care of Derek and Derek being obviously in love with Avery.
Hope you enjoy!! Also @enzeyyi , the fluff is here.
also there might or might not be something else coming out today.. YO WHO SAID THAT sorry I'll let you read now
Derek was sitting in the bathtub, warm water reaching his torso. He was hugging his knees to his chest. There were hands in his hair, gently carding through it and massaging his head. He could feel all the tension from last night leave his body. Even as soapy water run down his back and sides, lightly burning on the scratches he made, he felt more relaxed by the minute.
It probably helped that Avery hadn't stopped talking for a second. His voice was soft as he told Derek of their plans for today, which included a short grocery run, a picnic in the park and a visit to the book store. The one they frequented was said to have a new collection coming. Despite Derek not having any vision and basically possessing the Knowledge of the entire Universe at his fingertips, he still, for a reason that evades Avery, likes to listen to him read it out loud. It's not like it's hard, and most of the time even entertaining. See, Avery is not a big reader; it's more to do with his need to do something at all times and trouble sitting still for long periods of time. However, something about reading a book to Derek on their couch or their big bed is making him the most patient man on Earth, even if it's a book about some guy named John going through 'regular guy' problems.
In his thoughtfulness Avery didn't notice how he has been washing Derek's hair far longer than necessary. Not like the latter didn't enjoy it, but still, it was unusual for Avery to lose himself in thought like that.
"Somethin' on your mind, Aves?"
"Oh? Oh! Nothing much, really. Just thinking how much you've changed my life for the better, is all."
Derek has no answer to this. Can't really comprehend the truthfulness of that statement. He knows, as he knows that today would be a pleasant 23 CĖ temperature with a warm breeze and sunny skies, that it is truth in Averyās mind. However, what is missing is understanding; why would someone as amazing and kind and strong-willed as Avery stay with someone so broken, someone so foolish as to oppose an Outer Being.
āIs that soā¦ā
Perhaps Avery heard doubt and self-hatred in that short sentence. He didnāt say anything immediately, simply washing the shampoo out of Derekās hair patiently. When all the soapy water ran down, he turned water off and gently took a hold of Derekās shoulders. Instead of asking him to turn or anything like this, Avery bowed down and kissed him gently on a temple. His lips were slightly dry (he was supposed to drink at least 2 cups of water by now; he is so bad at remembering such things). What he doesnāt feel is a smile against his stubble from where the lips moved while he was thinking and, unconsciously, mumbling.
āYeah, thatās one of the reasons you are so good for me; you make sure I take care of myself, and I take care for you.ā
Derekās cheeks dust with a pink of the flush, merging with the flush from the heat of the bath. He slowly raises his shaking hand to Averyās head and cradles it gently, sweeping through his messy curls. He almost catches a knot, but swiftly evades it. Scratching a little at his scalp, he lowers his hand and they both return to their initial positions, Avery at his back and reaching for a conditioner.
āAlmost done, poppy. Then we can get the picnic basket ready and do some chores and but new books.ā
āWe donāt have to. You know that Iā¦ā
āYeah, sure. But I want to. So?ā
āā¦ I heard they will have a new romance collection coming in.ā
āAwww, so sweet, lily.ā
āShut.ā
Averyās laugh was drowned out by the water.
Their house was warm. The life was good, finally. They were happy and together.
Set in a future for Daisy Bloom Au! Some fluff before I go to bed. Just had an idea and free-balled it from there. Hope you like it!
It happened a couple of weeks after they left the facility. They were watching something on TV I the living room, some brain-numbing sitcom that was predictable enough that Avery called multiple "plot twist". Derek was laying on him in a perfect imitation of a weighted blanket or an overgrown cat. His head was positioned right over his heart, listening to its steady, reassuring beat.
Avery's hand was carding through his hair, which was still in the process of being repaired and healing. There were significantly less knots and bald/short spots. He had a distinct feeling if Derek could, he would purr like a cat. Although, thinking about hair had made him remember something he wanted to discuss.
"Hey, sweetheart. Do you think you need a haircut?"
Derek made a questioning sound from where he was lying, not even trying to get up. He didn't sound upset, so Avery took it as I sign to continue.
"I just thought, it's got a lot of length and it's a probably a good idea to cut some off to let it grow more healthy, you know. It's only of you want! I mean, I can cut it pretty good, but you know that probably, so..."
Derek just rumbled something to stop his word-vomit. Again, he didn't sound upset at Avery, so it was as good a sign as any.
"It's fine, Aves. And it's probably is a good idea. We can do this whenever."
Before Avery can suggest another thing he was thinking about, Derek spoke up again.
"Yes, you can braid it, too. You don't have to ask me that."
"Oh, okay. I will make sure it's not a tight braid. You know, so not to give you a bigger headache."
"I know you will. Thank you, Avery."
"Of course. I am happy to help, Derek."
***
That is how they ended up a few days later, Derek's newly cut hair being gently combed by Avery. There were a couple special combs, hair ties and clips, as well as decorative flowers. Some of them resembled poppies, some daisies and a few forget-me-nots as well.
The braid ended up being a little loose, but not at risk suddenly being undone. The flowers could be easily taken out and put back in. Most of all, Derek looked good like that, in Avery's humble opinion. Which he made the man knew, quite vocally and physically by complimenting him and kissing anywhere he could reach him.
Long story short, the new tradition was born in their shared home. The one they would both adore immensely.
Another part for Daisy Bloom Au!! Shoutout to @enzeyyi for ordering Derek with specific spices. This one is heavy in the second half! Very angsty, me thinks. Hope you like it!
Warnings for general insanity, violent episode due to hallucinations in the second part.
Avery awoke from his observation of Derek with the sound of the door being shut. He didn't take his hands off of his face and didn't turn away from it. He just became more aware; aware of the stubble tickling his palms, of the shared quiet breaths between them both, of the downright horrified stare Derek was giving him. Well, Avery couldnāt exactly fault him for that last one. He did sign up for a government-sponsored experimentation, if he understood what little information Dr. Harris has given him. So the shock was pretty warranted.
However, Avery didnāt care. Whatever comes, he would still be here for Derek. For the only person who gave a single shit about him. For now, he needs to reassure the poor man that everything will be alright, even if not immediately.
Avery bows closer to Derekās face, at which the latter made an alarmed sound. Disregarding that, Avery finished his descent and pressed his lips gently to Derās forehead. The man became as still as a statue at the first contact but melted into it a moment later.
āIt will be okay, Derek, I promise.ā
The man hasnāt answered anything aside from shaking his head. Avery wasnāt upset with him. He could only imagine the horror that is housing an entity, or what remains of it, in your head. So he just kisses his temple and sits down next to him, one arm coming up in an embrace. Avery pulls his (saviour, companion, other half) friend onto the bed proper and makes him lie down.
Derek follows gentle guiding hands until he is lying on the bed, Avery sitting at the other end of the bed with Derās legs in his lap. His hands pet him gently, squeezing his shins in a soothing rhythm.
āYou can worry after you rest a bit. You look exhausted. Hm, if I remember it right it might be night as well. So, sleep! Iāll be here when you wake up, promise.ā
Derek shook his head again, but against his wishes, his exhausted mind began to slip. At the edges of his hearing, Avery could be heard humming a song, resembling a lullaby. Derās eyes closed and slowly he fell into a fitful sleep. Some time later, his (fated, beloved, most precious) friend had fallen asleep as well.
***
It was a couple of hours later when Avery, from where he slumped against the wall, was woken up from his sleep by a terrified and slightly enraged scream and a knee to his stomach. He had to take a couple seconds to get over a coughing fit the hit send him into. However, when he did, Avery realized that Derek was, more than likely, having a nightmare or a hallucination. Judging from the open wide eyes and lack of comprehension or understanding in them (as much as someone can see it in his eyes, the way they are), it was the latter.
āDerek! Wake up, itās fine! Itās me, Avery, youāre safe!ā
His words have only gained a more violent reaction. For the lack of mobility in arms, Derek had made up in how wildly he was swinging his feet and kicking at Avery. With a grunt from another hit (this time his ribs; even in his weakened state, Derek hit quite hard), it was decided to take a more direct course of action. It may scare Der a bit more, but at least it will prevent further injury (to both of them; it couldnāt be good to Derek to be moving like that).
So, decision made, Avery fluidly got from under Derek and pinned his legs by sitting on them. When the incoherent man processed this, he tried to wiggle from under him.
āNo, NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! You arenāt him, you CANāT be him! He isnāt here!ā
Avery catches his own whimper before it can escape him. It hurt, seeing a man who bravely opposed a god, to be reduced to such a state. Another hit near his more sensitive parts made him move again. Avery, in absence of any other choice, laid his full body on Derekās. His legs were pinning down Derās own, his hands clutching at the bed near the manās head.
āIt is me, Derek. I am here. You are here too. No one else. Just us two. I promise.ā
His words were not heard, or at least werenāt understood or trusted. Derek was still trying to escape by throwing Avery off of him, but the younger man persisted. His head was positioned by Derekās, so he taken to whispering soft nothings and promises into his ear.
However, it also positioned Derekās head near his shoulder. So it was not completely out of the blue when the pinned man bit him, hard. Avery was caught off guard and let out a scream that he did his best to smother to not alarm the man. He didnāt allow himself to be thrown off, still clutching the sheets and bed, continuing to talk into Derekās ear.
It took a better part of half an hour for Derek to come to himself. There was a taste of blood in his mouth. Despite this, nothing on him hurt enough to suggest that it was his. But then whose was it? Then, he processed the warm weight on himself, the whispers in his ears that didnāt hurt, another heartbeat against his own, the smell of sweat and cheap shampoo. It hit him then, that it was Avery. Avery, who was lying on him, who was whispering sweet things to him, who was here. Avery, who he hurt.
It was like he was punched in the gut (You kicked him. Do you not remember, pawn? You hurt him like so.) with the whimper that crawled out of his throat. It made Avery shush him like a hurt animal. He nuzzled his shoulder shortly and started whispering again (his throat is dry. he should have some water; it will hurt more if he doesnāt).
āYouāre okay, itās okay. You are safe, I am safe. We will be okay.ā
It ripped another whimper out of Derek, who had tears in his eyes. It hurt almost physically, to realize how he hurt Avery, even unconsciously. He Knew intimately that there was a dull ache in his ribs, signifying a serious bruise; some nausea from the kick in the stomach; and a bleeding, deeply bruised shoulder that will ache for some couple of weeks.
āItās fine, youāre fine. Are you back with me, Derek? Do you think you can talk to me or at least nod your head?ā
In his desire to not disappoint or scare his only companion, Derek slowly nods his head. The headache, that he felt building up, flared as quickly as it left under the careful ministrations of otherās hands. One hand was in his hair, scratching at his scalp in deeply soothing motions, and the other was massaging his neck to dispel any stiffness and help against the migraine.
āOkay, thatās great. You are doing great. Donāt worry about anything, itās fine. Iāll take care of everything, you just stay calm and relaxed.ā
They spent the night like this: Avery on top of Derek, entangled legs and joined heartbeats, in light sleep.
Would you believe me if I told you that I had no clue ao3 was in beta when I joined. I think I joined roughly around 2023, like (very)late 2023 early 2024 specifically. ļæ¼
I did not realize it was still in open beta till now. But congratulations Ao3. ļæ¼
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You were a god of textiles; respected, but generally considered a minor deity. But everything changed when mortals started regularly describing spacetime and reality as a 'fabric'.
