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dfortrafalgar · 8 months ago

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I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. This story is over halfway done now!

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 17

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It had taken about five hours for your body to fully pass the miscarriage, and during that time you were transferred into a more private room in the emergency wing where a labor and delivery doctor from the hospital’s maternity ward assisted with the pain management. Not like you were psychologically there, and neither was Law. You had repeated your behavior from previously, your mind’s go-to defense mechanism being to completely shut down, forcing your eyes closed in a feeble attempt to crawl out of your skin and escape reality. The reality being you, sitting on a toilet in the tiny bathroom of the private room, a bedpan under your body and the L&D doctor, who you wouldn’t speak to, occasionally offering shallow words of support as you hunched in pain with each agonizing cramp that washed through you. Law kept his eyes trained on your face the entire time, every exhausted contortion of your muscles as ripples of cramps waved through you throughout the seemingly endless seconds of your time in the private room.

When Law saw it, what had left your body, his lunch evacuated from his stomach into the nearest garbage can. Maybe it was the way it looked, or the fact that the doctor from L&D was holding it in a cold metal bedpan of all things, or maybe the stress of it all finally caught up to the jaded heart surgeon and he settled it by losing his stomach contents. You didn’t look at it, keeping your eyes closed, desperately wishing to be in your bed at home.

It was clearly going to be a human. All of the early human-like traits were there. Two arms, two legs, a head, a body, but it was still so far away from actually being a person. It barely had what could be called skin, if anything its external appearance seemed more like a glass frog, only a fleshy red color and not green. That is to say, Law could see the beginnings of organs inside the shape that rested in the chamber pot.

Law started to judge the gravity of calling the fetus an ‘it.’ The doctor holding the bedpan said it was going to be a boy, based on what she called the ‘Nub Theory,’ and was about 12 weeks along, before she cleaned you up and took the almost-boy away to be discarded somehow. Law’s mind flashed back to the young boy in the CICU who had passed away a few months ago, and the mother who was so distraught that she left Law with a bruise that took two full weeks to fully heal.

He wondered if you cried like that in the ambulance when he wasn’t there to help you.

He wondered if you would’ve hit him, too. No… you would never. Not even in your most distraught, vulnerable state would you do that.

Law felt his stomach twist once more for even thinking about you in such a way.

But when he looked at the almost-human in the bedpan, he had to remind himself that the fetus was yours. That would have been your son. That would have been his son.

And the actions of that mother in the cardiac ward, hearing her son pass away surrounded by nurses, her screams of agony and despair at having to go home without her little boy, suddenly made a lot more sense to Law.

And for the first time since the two of you had started trying for a baby, he started questioning if he was really meant to be a father.

—

“Give me everything that happened,” Law’s pointed glare and monotone words spoke volumes to Ikkaku and Shachi who sat uncomfortably across the small table in the hospital’s cafeteria. Robin had arrived after her clinic closed to assess your condition, and Law took the brief opportunity to get the details from the two that were with you before he arrived.

“We were eating lunch outside, the group of us,” Ikkaku started. “Throughout the day she seemed like she was in more pain than usual, but during lunch it seemed to be getting pretty bad. She went inside to use the bathroom and apparently fainted in the reception area of the office. We all came back inside when some of our other coworkers were trying to get her to come to, and she started bleeding heavily so we finally called an ambulance. I tried to call your phone but it went right to voicemail, so I called Shachi to meet us here.”

Law’s posture was eerily still. “How was the ambulance ride over?”

Ikkaku was clearly growing uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gaze of her best friend’s husband, but she mustered through her discontent and continued to relay her recent memories. “She woke up when the ambulance got there, and I think she saw the blood in her pants and started to have a panic attack. She was refusing to go with the paramedics so they… kinda… manhandled her onto the stretcher. She was screaming and trying to get away so they tied her down.” The curly-haired woman used her hands to display a crude image of what she was seeing in her head. “They strapped down her legs and arms and put her neck in one of those plastic brace things to keep her still, and all of that was before the ambulance even left the parking lot. She couldn’t even move in the ambulance, but they took off all of her jewelry because they were ‘concerned for her safety.’ I said they were stupid, and they told me to watch my language.”

The black-haired man’s teeth ground against each other in his mouth as he remembered a similar retelling from one of the nurses in your room, the excuse for your wedding ring being missing being out of caution for yourself. Clearly, the situation was a bit more nuanced, but he didn’t wish to strike up some form of argument with his close friends right now. Thankfully, your wedding ring had been returned to him a few minutes before you were wheeled to the private room, and was tucked safely in the pocket of Law’s slacks.

Shachi piped up, keeping his voice low. “When I got here she was still crying and screaming, there was a nurse that came up to her on the stretcher and put her hand over her mouth and told her to be quiet. I honestly wanted to slap her for that. I mean, what kind of nurse tells a crying woman to shut up?”

An understandable question indeed. Law ran an incredibly tight ship in his cardiac ward, with his nurses and fellow doctors being well-rounded individuals who worked incredibly under the high pressure environments in and out of the operating room, and based on what Law had seen and heard throughout the afternoon, he was starting to wonder if his was the only department that behaved somewhat normally.

“Sorry for calling in the middle of a surgery, by the way,” mumbled Shachi, awkwardly rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

“Don’t be, you couldn’t have known,” Law replied, his own voice low and pensive.

“Law, are you okay?” Ikkaku asked, reaching her hand across the table and giving a friendly pat to the doctor’s forearm which lay across his side of the table.

The man bowed his head, hiding his clearly bloodshot and exhausted eyes behind the feathery wisps of his black hair. He could feel his mouth growing dryer by the second, his nose still sore from wiping away the snot caused by his crying, his lips dry and chapped with the way he gnawed on them in the failed attempt to keep his sobs at bay.

“No, I’m not,” was all he said.

Ikkaku and Shachi shared nervous, anxious glances with one another.

The redhead reached his own hand forward now, tapping it gently against the surface of the table in Law’s field of vision. “Do you want us to bring you anything? Snacks… water… something to read…”

“No thank you, but if you could go and check on Bepo that would be great,” Law muttered, turning down his friend’s offer faster than he probably should’ve. “Thank you guys for telling me everything, I’m going to go back to her room.” He turned his back on his two concerned friends before they had the chance to muster out their goodbyes, hoping that he could hide his face once more to quell the oncoming tears that threatened to fall for a second time.

Law hated crying. He always hated crying. Crying left him feeling more exhausted than a 12 hour surgery. Crying left him feeling weak and defeated, like a dehydrated, shriveling plant that gets left to deteriorate on a scorching windowsill. Throughout his entire life, he had only truly cried a total of three times. Once when he lost his family in their house fire. Twice when his adoptive father figure was murdered before his very eyes.

And three times today, weeping over your form over the baby that was lost. Again.

The hallways of the main corridor were uncharacteristically empty as Law’s feet dragged his fatigued body down the tiled hallways, his shoes scuffing the floor with each labored step. He fought desperately to control his breathing, his lungs feeling like they were filling with water, his body fighting for life. How pathetic he was. You were the one in pain. You were the one losing the baby. So why was he getting so worked up? Why was he letting himself fall?

In sickness and in health.

“FUCK,” Law lost control of his vocal chords as he shouted into the empty hallway, the only witness to his outburst being the LED lights on the ceiling, illuminating his shame. He hadn’t consciously registered the way his body contorted, his hand balling into a fist as he drove his limb into the wall next to him, the force of the blow making him grimace. A sizable dent was left where his knuckles had impacted the drywall, blood beginning to seep from the skin of his tattooed fingers as he let his knees buckle and send him to the floor. He slumped against the wall, gazing at the back of his hand.

D E A T H

Law was an edgy undergraduate. He funneled his trauma, his insecurity, his distaste for life into his studies, drowning himself in textbooks and medical demonstrations, filling the blank spaces in his psyche with music that shared the same disdain for the world as he did. He littered his skin with marks that spoke to him, the marks of his family and the marks of death. He didn’t care if the tattoos on his fingers gave him less chances of getting into medical school, he did what felt was right. He had escaped death more times than a kid ever should have, and the ink in his skin was a testament to that.

You had poked fun at the symbolism on the day you first met him. A doctor with the word ‘DEATH’ written on his hands was an ironically funny image. You had said something along the lines of, “I think I would trust my doctor more if he had ‘DEATH’ on his hands. At least it would make more sense if he happened to kill me.”

Law had scoffed at that. His tattoos were nothing to joke about. But he came back to you because of the smile that rested on your lips as you laughed, the way the skin around your eyes creased with your happiness. You were a magnet pulling him into your embrace. Suddenly, the blank spaces in his mind previously filled with depressing music were filled with the image of you. Your smile, your eyes, your bubbly giggle, the alluring smell of your perfume, the way you filled every room with light, the way you brought joy to the lives of your friends, your nerdy talks, your voice as you sang along to his music in the passenger seat of his car…

Hot tears plopped onto the tiled floor, some hitting the skin of his knuckles, making the bleeding wounds sting with the foreign contact as Law remained slumped against the wall, staring blankly at his hands as the wounds on his fist continued to ooze dark red blood. He missed his mother, his father, his little sister. He missed the way his mother would wipe his tears away with the sleeve of her shirt, kissing his forehead and ruffling his thick black hair. He missed the way his sister would cling to him on the playground, relying on her strong older brother for support. He missed his adoptive dad, the freakishly tall, clumsy, blonde ex-marine reserve who smoked indoors and would leave accidental burn marks on his clothes. He missed the way his dad would pick Law up like he was weightless, singing praises to the child’s accomplishments, even the most menial. Law always told you how he wished his family could have met you, how they easily would have adored you for everything you brought into his previously dark life. He wondered what his family would say to him now, as he sat on the cold floor of the hospital’s main campus, alone, bleeding from his hand.

“They’d be proud of you.”

Law’s golden eyes opened at the sound of the voice coming from in front of him. Shachi was crouched directly in front of him, a soft smile gracing his crooked mouth as he used his shoulder to support himself against the wall in front of his friend.

“I know you. You’re thinking about Cora and your family, aren’t you?” he asked, retaining his cheeky personality but flooding his words with an air of unabashed kindness.

Behind him, Ikkaku stood, her own eyes welling with overwhelmed tears, but standing and blocking Law from the lights that shone down on his defeated form. She too had a small smile on her lips.

Shachi moved to stand upright, grabbing Law’s arm and hauling the taller man to his feet. Law barely stepped forward to pull his friend into a back-breaking hug, releasing everything he was bottling up into the shoulder of his best friend. Shachi’s arms supported Law, hugging the man back and squeezing him with the might only a life-long friend could have.

“You’re doing great, Law,” the redhead whispered.

Nobody spoke a word as the two led the doctor back to your room in the emergency ward. Law’s tears continued to fall, his hand finally clotting.

When he rounded the corner of your room, you were standing upright, your body wrapped in a fabric hospital gown, your own cheeks puffy with the force of your own crying. Robin was supporting your arm as you were about to lay back down on the bed, but as you witnessed Law enter your room once more, supported by your two best friends, you pushed past your doctor and threw yourself into the waiting arms of your husband. His hands circled around you, your personal shield, your knight, holding you against his trembling body as his tears fell into your hair, as his head dipped down to hide in your shoulder and as your own face buried into the crevice of his neck, your unending tears soaking his shirt. The world vanished around the two of you as you stood in his embrace.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

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urlocalmultigroupfan · 3 days ago

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fallout (pt. 4)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you work with skz in chernobyl. everything is fine....until it isn't.

tags/warnings: gruesome and horrific material, explosions, gory kind of? sorry if i missed anything.... still putting it together.

a/n: guysss skz is coming to my city! the tickets sold out in 12 hours tho lmao its in june?? but the resale tickets are CHEAP like 60 dollars lol! gonna see if i will get one

btw im thinking of continuing without you!! im just continue from where i last was....hopefully yall can put the pieces together 😭😭 sorry yall

also sorry this is so short...i feel terrible for getting minho like this 😔

The stale air of the meeting room weighs heavy, thick with tension and the faint metallic tang of burnt metal. You've barely slept since the explosion, the haunting imagery of flames and debris seared into your mind. But there's no time for rest. Not when Minho’s condition worsens with every passing hour.

You sit at the edge of the cot in the medical tent, staring at his pallid face. His breaths come shallow, his lips a faint grayish tint. It’s hard to reconcile this fragile figure with the Minho you know—the sarcastic, sharp-eyed man who always seemed untouchable. The radiation doesn’t care about invincibility.

“His temperature’s still climbing,” Chan murmurs beside you. His voice is hoarse, cracked at the edges from days of barking orders and endless meetings. “The doctors... they don’t know what else to do.”

You glance at him, searching for even a flicker of reassurance, but all you see is the weight of guilt on his shoulders. You hate that he blames himself. None of this is his fault.

Minho stirs, his eyelids fluttering weakly. "You guys..." His voice is barely audible, a shadow of its usual self. "Stop... hovering. It's annoying."

You laugh softly despite the tears burning your eyes. “Shut up, Minho. You’re lucky we’re here.”

His lips twitch into the faintest ghost of a smile before his face contorts in pain. He grips your hand tightly, and you can feel the tremor in his fingers. “Promise me...” His words trail off as another wave of agony overtakes him.

You swallow hard. “What?”

“Promise me you’ll figure out what caused this. Make them pay for it.”

The sheer resolve in his tone makes your chest tighten. “I promise,” you whisper, gripping his hand back just as tightly. “But you’re not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together.”

Chan steps forward, his jaw set. “I’ll talk to the others. We need to find out how much exposure we all had. If it’s worse than they’re letting on...” His words trail off, but the implication is clear.

“Chan...” Your voice cracks. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours for a brief, heart-wrenching moment. “I have to. If I don’t, who will?”

Back at the command post, you find Felix poring over blueprints and diagrams of the reactor. He looks up as you enter, his face pale but determined. “There’s something wrong with the data they’re giving us,” he says, pointing to the charts. “The exposure levels they reported—they’re way lower than they should be.”

“How much lower?” you ask, your heart sinking.

“Enough that it looks intentional,” Felix replies grimly. “They’re covering up the severity of the leak.”

Chan exhales sharply through his nose, pacing the room like a caged tiger. “We need to act fast. If they’re lying, there could be more people at risk.”

As the pieces begin to fall into place, you realize the scale of what you’re up against. This isn’t just about an accident—it’s a fight against time, deception, and an invisible enemy that’s already wreaking havoc on the people you care about.

And Minho is running out of time.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids x you #bang chan x reader #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x reader #bangchan angst

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deathbxnny · 1 year ago

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hi!! stellaron hunters + jing yuan with a teen!reader who has a past like collei?

they were used as an experiment from a very young age, thankfully [insert character](or elio in stellaron hunter scenerio) rescued them, they also took them in but they were still traumatized from their time as an experiment,they are chronically ill which makes them weak and are scared of being touched due to their time as an experiment subject

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A/N: Hello! As someone who loves Collei, I seriously love this request! I also apologise for taking eons to respond to this, but life sucks... anyways, I hope you enjoy this! Content: Small hints of past child abuse/experimentation, angst, hurt/comfort, some fluff, reader being a teen, found family, small mentions of chronical illness, sfw Reader has no mentioned pronouns! (Not proofread!!!)

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》Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan was aware of your story way before you arrived in his care. And he took every single detail very seriously. How could he not, when you looked so scared and weak, the day you first arrived at his doorstep? You were panicking and crying, afraid that history will repeat itself and that more agony was awaiting you in the mans grasp... yet none of that ever came. Instead, you were patched up carefully, clothed and fed with utmost care and love. He made sure that you had nothing to worry about, most of your wishes coming true with a dismissive wave of his hand.

He didn't need you to trust him fully immediately. In fact, he only made his presence known, once you came to find him first to thank him for his generosity, that you couldn't understand just yet. He made no move to push you into anything, simply going with whatever you were comfortable with speaking about or doing at the moment. You quickly learn to come to him with your worries, especially when it comes to your chronical pain. He has phenomenal doctors to help you, the most modern medicine at hand to quell even a small part of your physical agony.

He makes it clear, that your dark days are over under his wing and instead gives way for new light to pour into your heart.

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》Kafka

Kafka was observant and calm, when you first were given to her to be taken care of. She didn't protest, simply humming at Elio's request, before giving you an ominous smile. She was a mystery your anxious mind couldn't properly comprehend. She was unpredictable, noticed every movement and every flinch. At first, you were afraid of her as well, until she eventually showed you that there was no need to. She made sure you wore the best clothes and ate the best food at her side. She kept her distance to not set you off, tried to control her endless curiosity and need to know more. But thankfully, you were trusting her enough to share more of yourself, which ultimately made you share a bond.

Your pain came to an end with her around. She was too smart, noticed your discomfort the second you felt it too and took care of it accordinlgy. And whilst she couldn't take away all the agony, the underlying message was still clear.

There was nothing to fear anymore.

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》Blade

Blade was indifferent at first, perhaps even a little irritated. He didn't want to take in some randome kid, when he had so much to do, so much to finish. But alas, Elio didn't take no as an answer, which is how you ended up in his care. Things were rough at first, but not necessarily horrible. He gave you the basic things you needed to survive, including medication for your pain, as he claimed that he didn't want you holding him back. But other than that, he made no effort to bond with you or learn anything about your past. Or at least, he tried not to.

You came to him one night crying, quietly asking him to protect you whilst you slept, because you were afraid of the mere shadows in your room. He let out a sigh, yet obliged, calmly resting in a chair near your bed, as he sharpened and cleaned his sword absently, finding himself actually watching over you. After that night, he became somewhat more forgiving. Perhaps he was becoming weak, but he ultimately didn't find it in him to care, when you smiled at him for the first time.

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》Silver Wolf

Silver Wolf was also indifferent to you at first, but not because of any malicious reasons. instead, she believed your past was just a past, that should just be forgotten. Similar to a video game, you should just restart and lead a new life in hopes of having a better one next time. But she learned the hard way that real life was a little more difficult than that, when you freaked out for the first time after your arm brushing against hers on accident. It gave her near whiplash and became somewhat of a waking call to treat you more seriously. And so she did.

She researched and hacked into any possible data that surrounded you and your illness, not even slightly discouraged at the realisation that it was chronical. She'd find any possible way to help you, hoping that her company could heal you even a little bit. She shared her snacks with you, spoke with you everyday for hours on end, never allowed you to stray her side.

Life was difficult, but that didn't mean she couldn't try helping you lead a new, better one anyways.

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A/N: Alrighttt! I had some rare down time and was determined to at least post something today, so here it is! Thank you again for the request anon and I hope you liked it!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #hsr kafka #hsr kafka x reader #hsr silver wolf #hsr silver wolf x reader #hsr

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slaughtershrine · 2 months ago

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can i get a crumb of doctor content pls…*shakes empty can* maybe something where he’s a little too enthused with reader? I’ll let you take the reins…<3

Cultivated Mind.

(The Doctor/Herman Carter x Reader)

Summary: You’ve suffered through the trial, every second struggling not to lose your focus. The Doctor's presence is a constant. Never leaving you even in your thoughts. You're losing your mind and all capability. It's all his fault. His relentless obsession ruins you, warping and cultivating your mind for his own pleasure. But his greed and desire builds, he needs more from you, he desires something more tangible, he needs to feel you break. Word-count: 1,445.

Warning(s): Suggestive descriptions. Mentions of Blood. Mentions of a Corpse. Mentions of Death. Mentions of Insanity. Mentions of Obsession.

Guttural, raspy screams and agonized cries echo through the halls of the dilapidated hospital. You can feel your pulse quicken as you shakily work on the generator, speeding up more and more for every second that ticks by in the trial. It feels like your blood is going to rush so fast you explode, the pressure building up and making every inch of your body stiff. There’s a tightening in your belly, not only can you feel your heart pounding, so violently it feels like it lies in your throat — but you can feel it, pumping harder and harder ready to drop out onto the base of your tongue.

It’s all his fault. The Doctor. He has always shown a keen interest in you, in the others as well of course — during trials, but none of them seem to be hunted down quite as relentlessly. He follows them during trials, shocking them until they lose their minds. But not you. It’s more than blood-thirst. He follows you, torments you, in and out of trials regardless. It isn’t an occasional feeling for you, you can't remember much, but you know for certain you recall a constant buzzing in the background, a sickening static that never stops. A suffocating presence that follows you everywhere. It’s terrifying.

It’s harder and harder to resist the thoughts of just giving up, letting him experiment and get what he wants from you until he’s finally finished. It would be easier, it would end quicker. It would be less scary. The endless stalking you're so sure happened, but can't recollect. The hundreds of questions with no answers, not knowing is what feels the worst. You don't know what he wants, and it’s agony waiting for the finale. Perhaps the entity knows. But you only know you want the pain of trials and fear out of trials to end. You try to block it out, pushing the incessant thoughts away — they’re getting ahead of you. The sound of the generator blends back into your ears, thrumming and creaking. Almost as if it’s moaning in it’s last moments. What the fuck is wrong with the generator?

Something sways in the back of your vision, redirecting your attention. A filthy, dirt stained white sheet. Hardly surprising, this whole place is just filthy stains, among white walls and broken electrical wires. It takes you a moment to realize something isn't right, that you had let your mind unfocus for too long. The sheet is a coat — wrapped around a form that hangs from a hook, it sways back and forth limply, the creaking and moaning pulls from the body in the throes of each swing, getting louder and quieter as it moves to and fro. You feel sickness cover your body as the realization sets in — It’s Adam.

An unconscious strangled cry echoes from your parted lips as you turn, and you throw your body towards his own, drooping as it hangs from the hook, your hands fumble and shake as you reach for him. He’s so limp, so still and bloodied. The entity cuts you off, aggressively clawing at his corpse. The sound of his flesh sloppily tearing off the hook slowly reverberates, repeating over and over in your mind, it’s nauseating. You can feel the sick clumping in the back of your throat and the familiar taste of bile building. His skin is shredded to strands as he is lifted from the hook. The entity pulls carelessly as his blood flings off each thread, covering you and the floor in the warm crimson liquid. Everything is numb, you can’t feel anything — it’s only obvious you're crying when you hear your own devastated sobs rip out through your lips.

The doctor has to be somewhere near. Was Adam on his second hook, doomed to fail anyway? Or did you just let him suffer in the back, as you let your thoughts overtake you? You’re doing it again. You scream in your head, begging yourself to stop thinking, and more tears fall out in frustration. You caused Adam's death. You should have focused and you should have helped him, It’s your fault. You lose focus so often, no recollection or memory storage in your mind, what’s wrong with you? You always slip into it so seamlessly, like it’s a regular state, a state of inability — perhaps you do it so often, that being aware of your surroundings and having focus, or any ability of reminiscence is more unnatural now. You’re at fault for his death, you’re at fault for how poorly the trial is going. Your mind is ruined, and you can’t even focus when it’s most needed — only fractures of occasional consciousness aiding you. Where has your self-control gone, have you ever had it?

Everything spirals, your brain is only able to think of The Doctor, anything else is a challenge. He’s a slimy parasite, worming and gnawing at any autonomy left in your form, before consuming it greedily. The hospital is distant and blurred around you, but your last slither of awareness has a tight grip, nagging your mind as warning. Alerting you desperately with a cold shiver down your spine. Making your attention come back, to the shadow that now covers your form. You don’t want to move, don’t want to tear your eyes toward the figure towering over you, but you can’t help yourself. Dread seizes your heart — The Doctor's form stands next to you, still and waiting. As if your nagging thoughts had summoned him.

He matches your gaze as you stare up at him, only much more intensely. Your body waits, tingling expectantly for the electric shock to come, to increase the feeling of the constant static in your head and leave you paralyzed. But he leaves you anticipating. His pried-open, bloodshot eyes just stare into yours, wide and bulging. They look like they might burst, twitching and overcrowding your vision. Your breath hitches and you try to back away, stumbling as you turn. There’s only him. Surrounding you, at every pivot, at every look — it’s all met with his manic eyes. Desperately watching, eyeing you up hungrily. Everything spins and blends, the only solid form is his. Watching and observing perpetually. It’s all raw and nauseating as your body lurches and panics.

Your lungs burn and your chest aches as you force yourself to breathe, to try and calm down. It isn't working, it all just comes out heavily, erratically. You're losing your mind. Each gasp for air feels like you’re losing more than you’re taking in. Every despairing glance meets his, twisted and crazed. But something’s wrong. The only movement is your unsettled spinning, he just stands still, unbreathing, surrounding you. They’re Illusions — they’re all in your head. But not all of it, you can feel the sweat building up on your skin, and the throbbing in your veins — The Doctor is really here, he must be close, watching you fall apart.

And you catch him, a figure down the hall swaying. Watching intently, obsessively leering as he drinks it all in. His teeth chatter in excitement through his gaping grin and static sparks across the floor — the sound of the wave muffling the quivers and deep, breathy grunts that fall through his teeth. He can’t help himself. Savoring as every thought, every movement of yours is reprogrammed by him. He adores the control, and the feeling of being inside of you. Burrowing deeper and deeper into your mind. Tearing your awareness from you, before dangling it back in your view. Allowing you to graze it with the tips of your fingers before pulling back once more.

It’s been enough to satiate his obsession so far. Stripping you of all sanity and rendering you incapable and thoughtless. Only allowing you to think of him, as he does you. But he’s been patient — destroying your mind through the thousands of trials, unwavering from that focus. But he requires more now, to destroy your physical form as well, to feel you break in his very own hands. To feel your hot flesh writhe. His ‘enthusiasm’ has reached his limit, and he can’t stop his body from stalking over eagerly. The air crackles with electricity as he closes the distance. Reaching out ready and anticipating to claim your body, along with your prepped, broken mind. He’ll undo you in every way, slipping your mind into madness as he touches every inch of his obsession. Tearing screams and moans from you. Selfishly taking your blood and your wet pleasure. Everything of yours will be his from now on, not just the damaged mind he’s cultivated.

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widowsofchaos · 1 year ago

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8 with steve rogers please🥺🥺♥️ thank you

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧

synopsis: a mission goes wrong, and all there is left is pain. but, there’s always light.

ao3

a/n: “You take me instead, do you hear me? Give her back and take me instead!” requested 8 from this dialogue prompt list, with Steve Rogers. sorry tumblr ate the inbox message.

warnings: mention of SA, ptsd, minor angst, recovery.

The ruins of ghosts’ past haunt you.

You were once as pure as a church, clean and holy —- now desolate, abandoned, and corrupted. Ruined. Broken pews where little children once bowed their little heads in prayer.

All these disregulated nerves alight with fire, and terror. Cautiously awaiting for the monsters to come out of the darkness, and finally devour the remaining carcass.

Five months ago.

Armed to the teeth with strapped weaponry, and confidence. An abandoned Hydra base left to rot in the middle of wilderness.

Cautious steps tread the corridors with precision, and stealth. As your husband was scouting the other end of the base, he entrusted you to be safe.

Found a laboratory, old vials of chemicals, and gasses. Dead silence hung over you as a wet blanket—- ears straining, faint footsteps near.

It was a blur.

All you can recall was the acidic scent of gas, shouting, a kick to your ribs, and your name being shouted through your comm.

His sweet voice bellowing, pleading for your life, sweet Steve. ‘You take me instead, do you hear me? Give her back and take me instead!’

Held onto those words wound tight, as if you could weave them between your fingers from it’s vibrations, pull the static itself and wear it as brass knuckles.

Endless days of pain, stripped of your sanity, stripped to the marrow of nothingness. Girlflesh licked and bit at, one eye swollen shut, and upper lip plumped to a ripe bruise.

Split knuckles, torn and raw. Calculated blows bled to feral clawing, and biting, punches earning cherry stained ivories. Pinned to the cold floor by your wrists, and ankles by filthy palms, multiple men snickering in German, as they hovered over you, thrusting as swine.

Locked away to rot, no sunlight, no fresh air, only the stale scent of your urine, and … other bodily fluids. Every few hours, another agent came, and beat your weakened state.

It was hell.

Time was nothing but imagination.

Until finally, yells and gunfire erupted from the outside. A man’s skull smashed against the door, bursting the metal door wide open.

Light surrounded his blonde tresses as a halo. Towering over you, with soft hands.

He gently held your body, causing you to shrill in agony. Steve silently cried over you, whispering ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’ under his breath, pleading for forgiveness for every wail that seeped from you.

Steve held you all through the ride on the jet. Friday’s monitors checking over your vitals, and not even blinking away.

Once the doctors at the compound told him the extent of your injuries, and what was found inside of you. He nearly broke into a rampage that only settled with Bucky tackling him into a bear hug.

The mental scars weren’t healing. You felt pathetic, and weak. You never lost control.

Tiresome training that stretched itself through hours, day after day, demanding for the most brutal discipline from Natasha. Demanding for more and more, barely any water breaks—- for a moment to breathe.

Compulsive need to feel the pain, to bare your teeth in reaction, triggering fear which led to lashing out and screaming—- and a concerned Natasha.

Eventually, this habit led to a halt with a towering Natasha hissing, enough . Her green eyes lidded, with concern. Hands at the jut of her hips.

“Replacing the grief with aggression, isn’t going to fix it.”

“How would you know? You’re the world’s deadliest woman.” You snarked back, monotone and sarcastic.

A pregnant silence.

“I wasn’t always.”

Her tone is soft, and speaks with an unspoken feeling. You understood, but didn’t dare ask. Ending the conversation at that.

And it was never brought up again.

Sex only brought revulsion, not towards Steve. But towards yourself, all you saw was ugliness. A mere touch brought you back to that dark cell.

Vices became familiar habits again, smoking, and rarely eating.

Every-time he touched you, you cried. Bawled as a child, hysterically. Hyperventilating as all he can do is watch, and guide you through it, just like the therapist instructed.

Days not spent on training, are held up in your bedroom, blankly staring up at the ceiling, tailbone aching from oversleeping.

The waves of stress crash against the strong willed ship that is your marriage. Irritated to even talk, disconnected from everyone, every mirror has been smashed.

Now you lay here, in the dark.

From the corner of your oculus, faintly in the crevices of your mind, there is an inky black mass—— just staring, always near.

And yet, somehow, you’re convinced that it’s real, that you must respond to the plaguing thoughts; but the body doesn’t recognize false visions, only fear.

The bedroom door quietly opens. Taking most of the entrances' space, divine shoulders squared, and those knowing blue pools with murky green swirls.

Coiffed blonde hair, and tender blue eyes. A nose that rivals a roman god, a man that would be mounted in a church, the face of a saint.

Your saint.

Century old eyes that seen more than it can bear, ever so knowing. Perhaps, he heard your thoughts, and came to your aid.

His footsteps dull against the carpet, gently coming towards you. His hand hesitatingly stretches out, unaware if touch is right.

But you yearn for it, silently asking for comfort.

Gently his hand lays on your chest, circular rubs to soothe the haggard breathing. Shooing away the bad thoughts as a mother would.

“Deep breaths.” Steve says, “It’s okay.” Filling your chest with gusts of air, being guided by his voice, with the lulling twang of that Brooklyn accent.

You want to break through the fog. You yearn to heal these angry wounds.

Watery sigh escapes you, eyes never leaving the ceiling, and for a fleeting moment, you wish you died in the cell. Then maybe, you wouldn’t subject your husband—-

“Mama?”

—- and your daughter to your troubles.

A creek at the door is followed by small footsteps. Her small body shuffles and ruffles on the blanket at the edge of the bed, quickly lifted by Steve by her belly.

Steve gently shushes her, a reminder saying, ‘be careful, remember, mommy isn’t well’. Soft snuffles, and grunts follow with each tug of the blanket, and your legs as support.

Climbing over your body, your daughter’s little chubby hands dents onto the flesh of your body. Slowly the black mass evaporates, its suffocating presence dissipates into nothing.

As a fog clears from your mind, and a small smile forms at the corner of your mouth. Steve smiles a little, his hand caressing her little head.

“Mama, are you okay?” Her baby voice lulls you, and brings tears to your eyes. “Yeah,” your voice raspy, “Mama’s okay.” Nodding weakly.

What was it your therapist said, again?

‘There’s always light at the tunnel. You just have to find it.’

Her little cherub brown cheeks puffed, and plump. Ripe for kisses. Her little fingers toying with your face.

‘And if that light isn’t your husband,’

Your eyes gaze up at Steve, love emitting from his blue hues. Your weak hand shakingly moves to his cheek, he leans into your touch, closing his eyes.

‘Then I’m damn sure, it’s your little girl.’

Slowly, your eyes sheen wet at the brim, looking at such innocence. Untainted, and pure. Life doesn’t end, it just changes, like the seasons. Some good, and some bad.

‘You don’t have to heal today, and I don’t expect you to heal tomorrow. But remember what we have created. She’s so much more than us.’ Steve’s words from therapy ring in your mind.

It doesn’t end.

“I love you, mama.”

You inhale a watery breath, smiling from ear to ear. A relief curling in your chest.

“I love you too, my little bubble.”

#widowsofchaos wrote this #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader angst #drabble #Alexa! play let the light in by Lana Del Rey

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messydepressy95 · 1 month ago

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Thank you @sixhours for the WIP Wednesday tag!

Here’s a small snippet of a Firefly Hospital Whump I’m hoping to get posted before the month is over.

Please note that this is wholly unedited.

—-

Joel wishes they’d never found the fireflies. He has spent the last 4 months and 19 days watching his girl become a shell of herself. The tests are relentless, they ask for too much, and take even more. She’s fourteen goddamn years old and they just keep taking. At first, it was just blood. Then they requested bone marrow, and now spinal fluid. They took scrapings of the bites on her arm and when that didn’t work out the way they’d wanted, they had carved a fucking chunk out of her flesh. She bares every procedure with gritted teeth and a vice-like grip on his hand. They have a shit supply of painkillers, leaving Ellie to pant and writhe in agony most days. She refuses to leave, to give up. He’s thinks about packing her into one of the cars he’d found two buildings over, every single day. She makes him promise though, that they will see this thing through and he will not intervene. He doesn’t, not really. He simply makes his presence known when they approach with several hare-brained, ill-thought-out ideas. He plants himself firmly between the small medical team and the girl he’s claimed as his on the days she can’t even see straight, the promise of violence shining in his eyes. He’d realized, after Silver Lake, what she was to him. He’d nearly lost another child in that godforsaken town, he won’t lose her here either. He may bite his tongue, and sit on his hands to prevent himself from striking out when she yelps in pain during their endless poking and prodding, but he will disembowel the next motherfucker to suggest she give her life to this cause. Something he has verbalized to the nurses and doctors during a rare occasion in which she had actually slept. He puts his foot down with her when they suggest exploratory brain surgery. They will not be digging around in her head with no real purpose, over his dead fucking body. She pitches a fit, cursing at him and flinging insults. He takes it in stride, letting her wear herself out. She freezes him out for three days after the fight, and won’t even look at him, much less speak to him. He stays through it all, she couldn’t get rid of him now, even if she tried. There isn’t a soul on earth that could pry him away from his child.

—-

Poor Joel.

People are always gunning for his kids man.

#get it? gunning? cuz ya’ know SARAH #i’ll see myself out #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams #joel tlou #joel and ellie #ellie the last of us #whumptober2024 #work in progress #wip wednesday

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windsfavored · 29 days ago

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anonymous &&. said... If you really could change the past, and not just memories, would you now?

he can predict what the expected answer might be. that he'll say no — that he'll acknowledge the past as some immutable thing, already set in stone no matter how much one might wish to the CONTRARY. that trying to toy with those powers is a wasted effort. something destined only to end in dissatisfaction at best and devastation at worst. he understands now that to wish that one had never been born is a foolish desire; satisfaction can never be attained by trading a life for another — misery does not DISSOLVE as easily as the puddles left after the rain. it's merely RESHUFFLED; his prior act of tampering with irminsul has proven that. when the balladeer dreamed of reclaiming his birthright, of becoming a TRUE GOD, he deluded himself into thinking he could rebalance those scales — spread misfortune equally to every soul in teyvat, so no one soul languished in endless agony while the undeserving flourished.

yet what this person proposes is nothing of the sort. to change the past — to ACTUALLY change the past. to hold authority even over fate itself. if there were no repercussions to doing so, what reason would the wanderer ever have to hesitate? why should he allow his loved ones to suffer — to leave generations of innocent souls to be demolished by the aftershocks of his past mistakes? why should he let the doctor walk free, with all of the influence and resources he could ever possibly need to enact further TRAGEDIES at his fingertips? ( niwa wouldn't suffer. kazuha wouldn't suffer. no one would need to suffer. ) ren has accepted the cards he's been giving because the futility of his own actions have proven trying to change them is ultimately POINTLESS. he can live burdened by his sins — even if it means resigning himself to an eternity irrevocably stained by them. it isn't pleasant, but attempting to forge a better future is the only compensation he can give to those he's hurt. however ... what if he had another option?

he wants to live — he DOES now. his life has become so much brighter than he ever thought possible. ( than he ever thought he DESERVED. ) but ... didn't the innocents who shouldered unimaginable tragedy and died also want to live?

❝ ... yes. ❞ assuming there wouldn't be any hidden strings attached… any other answer would be SELFISH, wouldn't it? what right does he have to place himself above them?

YES OR NO ANSWERS ONLY.

#anonymous #( it's kind of complicated & depends a lot on precisely how it'd work )#( if he could 100% change things without any backfiring or repercussion or monkey's paw moments he would still go for it )#( he's gradually creating a life for himself now but those people who died also had lives & he wouldn't place them above his own )#( the quote that's like ''god does not care if you are guilty'' ''I CARE IF I AM GUILTY'' makes me think of ren every time )#( he doesn't want to carelessly sacrifice himself but he would still trade his existence for the people he cares for. )#( that's just the kind of person he is. it's guilt. it's self-loathing. but it's also very much out of love. )#( it's not a good thing ofc but at his core ren is still every bit that painfully gentle & painfully innocent soul. )

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elm-writes-stories · 1 year ago

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Cuphead: Isle of Shadows(Rewrite)

*Hey guys! I'm back with another episode of the rewrite of Cuphead: Isle of Shadows. This is published on July 16, 2023. If you guys like this episode, don't forget to heart it, reblog, and comment! That would be greatly appreciated! Warning: There will be blood, cannibalism, and violence, including gun shot wounds. If you don't like any of those things, please don't read. Enjoy!*

Episode Three: When The Innocent Becomes The Prey

Violence was always the answer.

As a ten-year-old, Hunter understood that. His father made him understand that. His cuts, bruises, and scars marked deep into his skin and shaped into what a beautiful mix of a victim and a monster he had become.

His father ran the Mason Corporations, something Hunter knew he would inherit soon. The Mason Corporations was supposed to give the medications out to patients with mental illnesses both rare and common and to diagnose them with proper treatments. No law in the Inkwell Isle said how the patients should be diagnosed. What most patients called the torture chamber, Hunter and his father called a lab. Many times, his father conducted experiments on the patients by giving medications that either works well for them or doesn’t. However, most of the time, it doesn’t work out.

Hunter heard many screams and cries of pain and agony from desperate people begging with all of their souls to be cured of this torturous illnesses that crippled them, only for them to form new illnesses along with it. Since watching his father running endless experiments of the ill lab rats, Hunter decided to experiment on his own.

Every day after school, Hunter would trap squirrels in cages and put the cages into the red round tub. Then, he grabbed a water hose and placed it in the tub, turning the water on. From there, Hunter watched as the squirrels in cages would fight for breath. Try as they could, the water eventually caught up to the squirrels. Hunter watched their heads disappeared into the water and the bubbles surfacing until the bubbles no longer came up.

Hunter would do this every day until a teacher caught him doing those experiments. Of course, the teacher expressed her concerns to Hunter’s mother and father without knowing that they were the wrong people to tell about her concerns about Hunter. After the teacher told Hunter’s parents about him, the young tiger could hear his parents yelling at each other at night.

“Please, Robert! We can’t keep hiding this! Everyone will know that you run the cult—”

“Shut up, woman!” Robert, Hunter’s father, shouted. “I told you not to tell anyone. I swear if you run your mouth and tell everyone about what I do, I’ll kill you. You hear me? Kill you!”

“Robert, please, if Hunter doesn’t stop acting like this, everyone in this city will know—”

“Then we’ll put him in a mental hospital. The city will see that there’s something wrong with my son and it’ll paint us as good parents for trying to help him,” Robert said. “Think about it, Victoria. The city will see that I am a good father to him.”

A sigh came from Hunter’s mother. “Right. We should do that.”

Hunter had his round ears pinned back with his fangs shown when he snarled.

The next day, Hunter was sent to the mental hospital called Tremaine Institute. The doctors there were trying to manhandle him into the hospital as the young tiger kicked and screamed, glaring at his parents for the last time in a long time.

If Hunter remembered his first three years at Tremaine Institute, there were kids there. What happened to those kids? Hunter was never friends with them. But there was one kid he liked to pick on. A very gullible kid who goes by Tommy Lee Cup, a schizophrenic child who was withdrawn from his peers.

Tommy Lee Cup had a big orange nose with a broken-off handle. His ceramic head was cracked as if he had damaged himself before going into the mental institution. His hands fidgeted together, his arms to his sides at all times, and his eyes always looked around the room for anything. He couldn’t concentrate on Hunter coming up beside him.

“Hey,” Hunter greeted the young cup. “I want you to show you something in Room 327.”

Tommy flinched back and shook his head. “We’re not allowed to leave here. Hey, look, someone drew a blue dog.”

“Really?” Hunter asked and then glanced at the kid. “Oh come on, I’m sure no one will notice us.”

“B-But—”

Hunter took Tommy by the hand. “C’mon. I promise it’ll be quick.”

Hunter led Tommy away from the room, leading him down the hall to room 327, right where a chair and an electroconvulsive machine with two dials and headphones were at.

Tommy’s scream could be heard later on in the night, down the hall. The doctors hurried down the hallway and bursted through the door to find Hunter using the electroconvulsive machine on Tommy. Tommy’s scream faded by the time the doctors moved away from the machine and turned it off.

“Don’t you realize what you have done?!” one of the doctors yelled at Hunter while the other doctors picked up dead Tommy from the chair.

Hunter’s response was a shit-eating grin that let his fangs glistened in the light, putting the doctor yelling at him in fear.

In the next three years, Hunter was in a straitjacket and had his mouth muzzled and barely having food to feed until Hunter managed to convinced therapists that he didn’t like hurting people anymore and he said it with so much fear and emotion. Heck, he copied Tommy’s tendencies with the fidgeting of the hands and not concentrating on the therapist talking to him. The doctors fell for it and released Hunter back to the world. However, the doctors didn’t know until too late that it was one of the worst mistakes they could have ever make.

Hunter was back home with his parents, dead silent. Hunter’s mother, Victoria, had chills down her spine while Robert was more than happy that Hunter was home. But Hunter could tell it was fake. For the first time in a long while, he was angry at his parents. His glare never withering when looking at both his mom and his dad. What was this growing flame in his heart? Anger? Betrayal? Revenge? Maybe all three?

Yes…all three.

In the dead night after his father went to sleep and his mother getting ready for bed, thirteen-year-old Hunter walked around the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife he could find. He hurried up to his father’s room as quietly as possible until he approached his father’s bedside. Then, without remorse, Hunter stabbed his father in the chest. Robert snapped his eyes open and was about to scream until Hunter covered his father’s mouth.

Hunter could’ve sworn he saw his father smirking underneath his paw. What a sick bastard. He kept stabbing his father in the chest until his father could stop screaming in pain. Robert still kept that sick twisted smile until he drew his last breath. Hunter became what Robert wanted. A monster just like him.

It was then Victoria came out of the shower with the robe on and saw Hunter standing over her husband’s dead body with a bloody knife. She screamed in horror and ran out of the bedroom, causing Hunter to chase after her. He slashed her leg, causing her to trip over down the hallway and limp her way towards the phone. She quickly dialed the number to the Inkwell Police Department. The phone rang for a short while.

“Inkwell Police Department, what’s your emergency?” the operator asked.

“You need to get to the Manson Mansion immediately! My son is—!”

Hunter stabbed her hip, causing Victoria to scream in pain.

“HUNTER, STOP IT!!”

Hunter didn’t stop as he kept stabbing his mother over and over again.

“MA’AM! MA’AM!!!” the operator shouted in panic.

Victoria screamed until she couldn’t anymore and laid on the floor. Hunter breathed heavily and started to let out little giggles of maniacal joy. He sunk his teeth into his mother’s flesh, tearing her apart piece by piece.

By the time the police showed up, they busted through the door and searched around the mansion until they finally found Hunter eating his mother’s dead corpse. When the flashlights shined on him, Hunter turned around to face the officers and gave the bloody grin.

~.~

Forty-One Years Later:

Inkwell city streets were burning in the dark night. Screams from surprised civilians put a smile on the old tiger’s face. Hunter, now as an adult, watched the civilians’ blood filling the sewer the waters and leaking into the cracks of the sidewalks. His followers didn’t hesitate to kill and deliver souls right to the Devil.

The Devil stood next to Hunter to watch all the chaos unfold in front of him with a wicked grin. “My, my, my, you didn’t lie when you said you would deliver more souls to you.”

“More souls to torture,” Hunter replied.

Behind Hunter and Devil, King Dice, Henchman, and Stickler were watching the destruction. While Henchman and King Dice was in horror of the sight in front of them, Stickler seemed unfazed by it and added more souls in his book.

“Hrmm, he did not hold back,” Stickler said while writing down the numbers.

Hunter glanced at Devil next to him with a smirk. “Since you’ve now seen what I’m capable of, why don’t I take care of those cups? I’m sure that will take the burden off of your shoulders.”

The Devil grinned wickedly. “Oh, that would be lovely.”

Hunter nodded his head. “Enjoy the view. I’ll be back with their heads.” The tiger walked away and motioned three assassins to come with him to hunt for those cups.

The Devil intake the smell of blood and corpses with a sigh.

King Dice slowly approached beside his boss. “Uh…Big D.”

“Hm?”

“Hate to be a downer, but don’t you think that this is a little…excessive?”

The Devil snapped out of his trance and whirled his head to look at his righthand man. “Excessive?!”

“D’uh, yeah, I was going to ask the same thing,” Henchman added.

The Devil widened his eyes in shock. “Are you kidding me?! Thisis what we live for!!! The chaos!!! The screams!!! The torture!!! That is not excessive!!”

“Hrmm, it’s a bit of a pain to add more souls to the slaughter,” Stickler said with his finger raised.

“Even you are against this?!” Devil barked. “You’ve counted souls for centuries and this is excessive to you?!”

“Ehhh, on the contrary, I am not against this. However, I do think that this is more extreme than what we have throughout the centuries. We should’ve saved all of this for the End Times,” Stickler noted.

“And do you know when that will be?” Devil questioned.

“Errm,” Stickler groaned while lowering his finger.

“Exactly,” Devil responded with a sass. He looked out towards the burning city with an evil smile. “Now, this is the beginning of a new era! Those who opposed me will fear me! I will be respected again! With the Night Stalkers in my grasp, I can rule the world! MUHAHAHAHAHA!!!” The Devil’s laugh echoed throughout the night.

~.~

The night was quiet while Elder Kettle’s house was filled with the sound of jazz music coming from Elder Kettle’s prized radio and the laughter from Cuphead, Mugman, and Chalice.

Elder Kettle was dusting the shelves and wasn’t paying attention much to his surroundings. Once he was done dusting the shelves, Elder Kettle turned to look at the cup kids playing with marbles on the living room floor with a small smile on his face. However, the old tea kettle started to notice that Mugman was starting to appear a lot more like an old friend that he knew from such a long time ago.

Murray.

The static interrupted his thoughts. Elder Kettle turned to see the jazz music was no longer playing on the radio. He sighed and headed over to turn the dial until—

“We interrupt this program to inform the listeners that there’s literal hell going on in Inkwell Isle,” the radio announcer spoke.

Elder Kettle widened his eyes in shock and turned the radio up slightly for him to listen in.

“The Night Stalkers are back and burning down the city! Single guardians, hide your children now! Better yet, leave the city and never return unless the situation dies down! Or else…oh no…they’ve found me. AAAAHH—!”

Elder Kettle heard slashing sounds and shut off the radio immediately with clenched teeth.

“Is…everything okay, Elder Kettle?” Mugman asked innocently.

“What’s the Night Stalkers?” Cuphead probed, feigning ignorance.

Elder Kettle bit his finger for a moment until he calmed himself down. “Okay, you listen to me and listen to me carefully. Pack your bags. We don’t have much time.”

“Wait, wait, where are we going?” Cuphead questioned.

“Pack. Your. Bags. Now,” Elder Kettle spoke more lowly.

Cuphead and Mugman were scared for a moment at their caretaker’s tone. But they headed up the stairs to pack their bags anyway. Chalice went with them to keep them company for a while. While they were doing that, Elder Kettle hurried to the kitchen and packed up the pots and pans needed for the trip until he came across two blue potions he’d kept hidden for fifteen years. He examined the potions and then looked behind him to hear the boys packing things up. With a sigh, he stuffed the potions in his pocket and hurried out of the kitchen.

Cuphead and Mugman carried their belongings in their bags with Chalice trailing behind them. Elder Kettle nodded his head in approval.

“Good. Good. C’mon,” Elder Kettle said while gesturing the kids to follow him. They headed towards the front door until they heard someone pounding the door. “Back. Back.”

The kids backed up with their caretaker. Elder Kettle hurried to the back door until he saw an unfamiliar silhouette hidden behind the curtain covering the top half of the back door window. Elder Kettle turned the kids and motioned them to go upstairs. The kids hurried up the stairs without question. They ended up going to Elder Kettle’s room and Elder Kettle locked the bedroom door.

“E-Elder Kettle, what’s going on?” Mugman uttered in fear.

They heard someone breaking down the front door from upstairs.

“Get behind me,” Elder Kettle softly commanded.

The kids obeyed and stayed behind the old tea kettle. They heard footsteps lurking throughout the house until they heard someone coming upstairs and down into the hallway. Elder Kettle firmly stared at his bedroom door, waiting for someone to break it down. Someone pounded on the bedroom door, causing the cup brothers to tremble in fear.

Chalice noticed the brothers’ fears, took a deep breath, and turned into a ghost behind Elder Kettle. She phased through the floor. Cuphead and Mugman noticed, but they didn’t say anything. They heard someone approaching Elder Kettle’s bedroom door.

“Boys, hide under the bed. I’ll take care of this,” Elder Kettle whispered to the cup brothers.

“No, I ain’t leavin’ you,” Cuphead argued with his fists clenched as if he was ready to fight whoever was on the other side of the door.

Mugman glanced around the bedroom to find a weapon for them to defend themselves. But it was too late as the door was broken down, revealing a hooded man carrying his rifle that was aimed at Elder Kettle. Cuphead put his arm out to protect Mugman with a glare at the hooded figure. However, the boys and Elder Kettle noticed the ghost of Chalice phasing herself inside of the hooded figure, taking over his body.

Cuphead and Mugman smiled ecstatically to see their friend using possession to possess their enemies while Elder Kettle stood there in pure shock and confusion.

Chalice, taking control of the assassin’s body, turned him around and aimed the rifle to the couple of assassins going down the hallway. Before saying or doing anything, Chalice used the hooded man to pull the trigger and shoot the two assassins approaching her and her friends.

The tiger approached up the stairs and hid behind the shelf with his Tommy gun. Chalice controlled the man to reload his rifle and aim the tiger coming out of his hiding spot. The bullets hit the man before Chalice could force him to pull the trigger. She phased out of him and through the floor once the assassin collapsed on the ground.

Chalice phased into the tiger, attempting to possess him but she underestimated how hard it would be to take control of him.

While Chalice was struggling to take control of the leader of the cult, Elder Kettle peeked down the hallway and looked at the boys’ bedroom on the other side of the hall. Upon realizing that the boys had a window in their bedroom, giving them a chance to escape from their invader.

“C’mon,” Elder Kettle commanded as he and the boys hurried across the hallway and entered into their bedroom. Elder Kettle closed the door and barricaded the door with the small shelf. The old tea kettle turned and hurried to open the window behind them.

The boys looked behind them to see Chalice phasing through the barricaded door.

“We better go now!” Chalice warned. “This guy’s not easy to possess!”

They heard someone kicking the door.

Mugman and Cuphead hurried to the window with Cuphead climbing out of the window first with Chalice flying out of the window. Mugman rushed behind him until he heard the door knocked down. Before he could make a leap out of the window, he was grabbed by the wrist.

Mugman turned back and looked in horror to find the old tiger gripping his wrist with a growl. However, Mugman bit down the tiger’s arm in self-defense, causing the mysterious tiger to howl in pain. Mugman rushed out of the window and hurried behind his family and friend. Elder Kettle grabbed the goat from the front yard and hurried through the woods.

Out of anger, Hunter, the tiger, peeked out of the window and fired bullets at them, but they disappeared into the dark woods. Hunter looked at the bite mark on his arm and instead of being angry about it, he gave a smirk.

“What a little animal,” Hunter growled and looked out into the woods. He heard the phone ringing suddenly. Hunter strode through the house and went downstairs where he saw the phone ringing near the doorway to the kitchen. The tiger picked up the phone to see who was calling.

“Kettle, you have thirty minutes to get your rusty heinie down here and pay your tab!” Porkrind’s voice came from the phone.

Hunter smirked to hear the familiar pig’s voice. Not that he knew the pig before, but Hunter could tell what the pig was known for…his shop.

Hunter knew where to go next.

~.~

“Kettle? Kettle?!”

The phone hung up on Porkrind in his shop.

Porkrind grumbled and placed the phone back on its stand. “Great. First, you didn’t answer and now you hung up on me for no reason.”

Cassidy entered the room with a raised brow. “Wait, why does Elder Kettle need to pay the tab? I don’t think he bought anything.”

“He’s got packages delivered by Jerry and Jerry had been complaining to me that he hadn’t gotten a cent out of Kettle every time he makes a delivery,” Porkrind said with a groan. “Don’t let people take advantage of you, sweetheart. It ain’t worth your time if all people do is take advantage of you.”

Cassidy nodded her head in understanding with a frown.

Porkrind noticed her frown and lost his irritated scowl on his face. He sighed and kneeled to meet her eye-level. “Are you still upset about Jerry?”

“No.”

Porkrind arched a brow.

She lowered her head with her ears pinned back. “I kinda missed doing deliveries with him.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have pulled you into his little secret operation. Even if it’s because you want to help, you need to understand that the Devil is bigger than any bully you will ever face. He ain’t going to be happy if he finds out that he and his imps were beaten by a small cat girl.”

Cassidy perked her ears up to look at her one-eyed father.

“Honey, I’ve seen you building weapons, but I didn’t think to ask what they were for,” he said while looking at a bunch of weapons of various of cat toys and arrows on the workbench.

She chuckled nervously.

“I gotta say though, the weapons you made are pretty nifty,” Porkrind complimented.

“Well, I did have the best teacher,” Cassidy remarked while referring to her father by looking at him with a soft smile.

They suddenly heard a knock from the door.

“Porkrind! Porkrind! Open up!” Elder Kettle urged in panic.

“The shop’s open you know!” Porkrind said, standing up to his feet and facing the door with his arms crossed.

Elder Kettle opened the door and let the kids inside first.

“Whoa, whoa, this ain’t a family hang-out!” Porkrind shouted.

Cassidy brightly smiled to see Cuphead, Mugman, and Chalice. “Guys!”

“Hiya, Cassidy!” Chalice greeted back.

“Hi!” Cuphead said with a wave.

“Uh…h-hi! Uh, how are you doing?” Mugman asked with a blush on his face.

Cassidy also blushed and giggled awkwardly. “Well, I’m doin’ alright. I enjoyed my lunch with Natalie…although I ended up vomiting from the sweets and…yeah…”

There was an awkward pause.

“That is way too much information,” Cassidy added.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Mugman replied. “Now I know where we won’t be taking you if we do go out together.”

“Or if it’s just Mugman who takes you out,” Chalice replied with a mischievous smirk on her face.

The mug’s ceramic face went red instantly. “Chalice…”

Chalice giggled at her friend’s reaction.

Elder Kettle locked the shop door.

“Hey!” Porkrind shouted at Elder Kettle while approaching the old tea kettle. “Why are you locking up the shop?! That’s supposed to be my job—”

“Porkrind, listen to me!” Elder Kettle urged and grabbed the pig’s shoulder. “There’s a madman comin’ after me and the kids! We ain’t safe out in the woods!”

Porkrind arched a brow. “Wait…I called you about paying your tab—”

Elder Kettle gave the pig money, who accepted it immediately.

“Oh, thanks…anyways, I called you about your tab and you didn’t answer. I mean, you did answer the phone, but you didn’t even talk…wait…did you answer the phone?”

“Uh…no. It must have been ringing after the kids and I got out of the house,” Elder Kettle replied. “That’s why I’m saying that there’s a madman coming after me and my kids! The Night Stalkers are out in the city now killin’ people!”

“Wait, what?” Porkrind questioned with a brow raised.

“The Night Stalkers! They’re at it again!” Elder Kettle said in a panicked tone.

The one-eyed pig widened his eye in shock.

Cassidy glanced up at her father. “At it again?”

Porkrind looked at his daughter. “Cassi, pack your gadgets. You may need them.”

Cassidy hurried to the back room and gathered her gadgets. She grabbed her quiver full of arrows and her bow. Before she headed back to the group, Cassidy’s ears flicked to hear someone walking around the shop. She froze in fear while her ears followed the sound towards the back door next to the table where she got her gadgets and weapon. She watched intensely at the knob turning. Once the door swung open, she jumped back with a gasp until she realized that someone coming through the door was Jerry entering from the back of the shop.

Cassidy gasped happily. “Jerry!”

Jerry smiled under the scarf covering his mouth. “Hey Cassi—”

The sudden gunshot sounded and the bullet crashed through Jerry’s shoulder, causing him to stumble into the shop. That grabbed Porkrind’s attention as he rushed to the back room and shut the back door. He locked it and helped Jerry up on his feet.

“Hey! Hey, Jerry! Are you okay?!” Porkrind shouted in a panicked tone.

“I…I think the bullet went through my shoulder,” Jerry said while losing some blood.

Porkrind glanced at Cassidy. “Grab the medkit.”

Cassidy hurried to grab the medkit out of the shelf as Porkrind carried Jerry to the front of the shop much to the horror of Elder Kettle and the cup trio.

“Looks like your maniac shot my friend,” Porkrind said while setting Jerry down on the counter, clearing anything on it.

Cassidy hurried and handed the medkit to her father.

Porkrind took Jerry’s green trench coat off and the red shirt underneath it to look at the wound better. Jerry was correct when he said that the bullet went through his shoulder.

Porkrind opened the medkit and cleaned the wound, causing the creature under him to wince and hiss in pain. “Stay still. The sooner we get you patched up, the better.”

They heard footsteps coming around the front door.

Elder Kettle glanced at the pig. “Don’t mean to rush you here, but hurry up.”

“I’m trying. I’m trying,” Porkrind groaned while cleaning up the wound. Then he stitched up his skin to close up the wound with the needle and thread.

Jerry only flinched for a moment at the stitching.

They heard someone pounding against the front door of the shop.

“Hurry!” Cuphead urged Porkrind.

“Give me a sec!” Porkrind barked at the cup before cutting the thread with the scissors from inside of the Med-kit. Finally, he wrapped Jerry’s arm with the roll of bandages. He was finally finished as he set the medical supplies back into the med-kit. The door was finally broken down, causing the group to turn around to find the familiar tiger raising his gun to the group. Before he could pull the trigger, Chalice acted quickly by turning into a ghost and attempting to possess the tiger once again. Hunter tried to fight against Chalice’s attempt at possession, but under her control, he was pulled back out of the shop.

Jerry tapped on Porkrind, gaining the pig’s attention. “C-Car…parked at…the front.”

Porkrind turned to see where Jerry was pointing at. In the woods and a couple of feet in front of the shop, the car was parked there. Porkrind narrowed his brows in determination and looked at Elder Kettle and the kids.

“C’mon! While that…uh…ghost child is distracting that maniac!” Porkrind urged the group while picking Jerry up from the desk.

Cassidy followed her father while Mugman trailed behind her. Cuphead hurried after his brother and Elder Kettle picked up the goat and ran after his kids. They all followed Porkrind out of the shop and towards the car ahead of them.

Porkrind placed Jerry on the passenger seat while Cassidy hopped over to the backseat. Mugman ended up sitting next to her with Cuphead beside him. Elder Kettle was next to Cassidy, holding the goat in his arms. Porkrind got into the driving seat to look for the keys.

Jerry handed him the keys from his pocket.

Porkrind took without hesitation and drove away as fast as he could away from the tiger.

Soon, Chalice phased out of Hunter and flew towards the car to catch up to the group. She changed back to her physical form, freaking the group out.

“So…where are we heading?” Chalice asked Porkrind.

“Somewhere far from the Night Stalkers,” Porkrind answered vaguely.

“I know where that is,” Cassidy said. “Take a left ahead.”

Porkrind nodded his head and took a left as instructed.

Meanwhile, Hunter recovered from fighting for control over his body with Chalice and looked to see the vehicle took off. He huffed in annoyance.

“Now, this is unfortunate,” Hunter said. He then looked at his arm that had the bite marks from Mugman. An idea slowly formed in his head. “What a little animal.”

Hunter shifted his gaze ahead of him and headed back into the city to report to the Devil of his new idea.

~.~

It had been quiet since they left Porkrind’s shop.

Jerry’s half-lidded eyes stared ahead, covering his bandaged arm. He tried to stay awake, but Jerry didn’t realize that losing so much blood already was going to keep him down for a while.

Cassidy and Mugman were squished between Cuphead and Elder Kettle. Mugman tensed up when her body was pressed against his, a blush growing across his porcelain face. He was both embarrassed at this predicament and being this close to Cassidy made his heart race and his palms sweaty.

Cuphead noticed his brother’s body tensing up, smirking at him uncontrollably. Elder Kettle saw Mugman’s reaction as well and couldn’t stop smiling at the thought that one of his boys might have a potential crush on someone next to him.

Chalice had been observing her group from behind them, smirking at Mugman. Oh, she knew what she’ll tease Mugman with if they ever found a hiding spot.

Porkrind looked over his shoulder from the driver seat to check on his passengers. “Everyone doing okay back there?”

“Never better,” Chalice responded positively.

The rest of the group nodded their heads, even the goat in Elder Kettle’s arm nodded his head.

Porkrind looked over at Jerry. “How about you? You doing okay?”

“Yeah…I didn’t think the Night Stalkers are comin’ out tonight after fifteen years ago,” Jerry said while sitting up more.

“What happened fifteen years ago?” Cuphead asked with a brow raised.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. We’ll talk more about it once we find a hiding spot,” Elder Kettle said. “Which…I don’t know where we’re going.”

The car arrived at the lone one-story mansion, hidden deep into the woods and far from the city.

“Wait, Cassi, is this your friend’s mansion?” Porkrind asked his daughter.

Cassidy nodded her head. “Yeah.”

“What is this place?” Elder Kettle asked both Cassidy and Porkrind.

“Ruth Mansion,” Porkrind responded. “I’m not sure if that’s the best hiding place for us.”

“But it’s far from the Night Stalkers,” Jerry said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Porkrind said while parking the car in front of the mansion. “There’s a shoreline nearby. I’m going to dump the evidence there.”

“Wait, what evidence?” Jerry asked.

Porkrind arched a brow. “Evidence that we’re here…which you’re sitting in right now.”

Jerry looked down to realize Porkrind was talking about the car. “You know, the Night Stalkers are going to bust through this house whether the car was there or not.”

“Then we need to get good at hiding,” Porkrind determined while gesturing everyone to get out of the car.

Elder Kettle led the kids out of the car and looked over at Jerry. “Can you walk?”

Jerry stumbled out the car and walked around the front of the car. “Yeah, I can. Thanks, anyway.”

Porkrind drove off to dump the car into the ocean, leaving the group in front of the Ruth Mansion.

Cassidy led the group towards the front door of the mansion and knocked. They heard someone stumbling from the other side of the door. The door swung open and, in quick reaction, Mugman pulled Cassidy back from the sudden sharp sword swiping at her.

“Whoa! Whoa! We ain’t the Night Stalkers!” Cuphead shouted and then widened his eyes to realize Natalie was the one answering the door with the sword in her two hands.

Natalie gasped to finally recognize her feline friend with a bright smile. “Cassi!” She dropped the sword and zoomed over to hug Cassidy. Cassidy gasped in surprise that Natalie was hugging her.

“I heard about the Night Stalkers on the radio. I didn’t know if they got to you or not,” Natalie said. She broke away from Cassidy with a bright grin. “Come in! Come in!” Natalie rushed and picked the sword, dragging the sharp edge on the floor. The group seemed surprise that they didn’t have to ask to take cover in Natalie’s house, but they entered into it anyway.

Jerry shut the door behind him, but didn’t lock it yet. He picked up the sword Natalie dropped and placed it on the counter against the wall in the living room.

“Welcome to the Ruth Mansion. Mom’s overworking again over at Isle 4. So, I’m in charge,” Natalie said excitedly. “Oh yeah! There’s food in the kitchen! Beds to sleep on! Rooms to play in until this whole Night Stalkers thing will pass.”

“Wait…are you here by yourself?” Elder Kettle asked with a brow raised.

“Oh no, just me and my sister,” Natalie said before hearing tiny footsteps waddling out to the living room where the group was.

They looked and saw a toddler cup with dark brown liquid hair in between her small innocent eyes. She was wearing a blue gown and had a pink string shaped like a heart above her head, holding a teddy bear in her arms.

“Awe dhe bad people gone, sissy?” the toddler cup girl asked shyly.

Natalie smiled warmly. “No, there are no bad people here, Aurora. Look who showed up!” She referred to Cassidy, who gave a friendly wave to Aurora.

Aurora gasped and ran towards Cassidy. “Cassi!”

Cassidy enveloped Aurora into a hug with a giggle and a purr. “Hey, Rori, how are you doing?”

“Good! Good!” Aurora replied with a smile. “I didn’d dhink you would come ovew. Mommy says dhad you’we a buwden.”

Cassidy lost her smile and went. “Oh…”

“Bud I don’d dhink you’we a buwden,” Aurora said with a smile.

Cassidy’s smile returned to her face. “I’m glad you don’t.”

Mugman watched this interaction with a soft grin on his face.

Aurora noticed Cuphead and brightly smiled. “Cuppy!”

“Huh?” Cuphead uttered in confusion.

“Sissy dalks aboud you all dhe dime,” Aurora blurted out with a giggle.

Natalie blushed and shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

Cuphead smirked at Natalie. “Oh, you talked about me all the time?”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “If I were to be talking about you all the time, it would be how annoying and disgusting you are.”

“She says you’we cute when you get mad,” Aurora said.

Natalie blushed and walked over to pick her sister up. “Okay. It’s time for bed.” Natalie hurried back to Aurora’s bedroom to put her sister to sleep.

Cuphead blushed after Aurora’s statement and looked at Chalice. “Uh…is that a compliment or an insult?”

Chalice smirked at Natalie. Now, she knew who to tease along with Mugman.

Porkrind came in through the front door and stretched his arms. “I think we should all get some shut-eye.”

The group nodded their heads in agreement.

Natalie came back after putting Aurora to bed and wishing her goodnight. “Uh, I can show you guys the rooms you can sleep in.”

“That would be wonderful,” Elder Kettle answered.

~.~

Elder Kettle had a room by himself while Porkrind and Jerry shared a room together…mostly so that Jerry could sleep on the bed and Porkrind could keep watch to make sure no Night Stalkers come into the Ruth Mansion.

Meanwhile, Natalie showed Cassidy, Mugman, Cuphead, and Chalice to the bedroom with two bunk beds. One on the right side of the room and the other on the left side.

Natalie put her fists on her hips with a smile in pride. “This is where I usually have sleepovers.”

“If you have any friends,” Cuphead muttered to himself.

However, Natalie heard that and rolled her eyes. “At least that’s more than you.”

“Okay, okay,” Chalice said. “If we’re going to hide from the Night Stalkers, we all need to get along. That includes you both.”

Natalie and Cuphead glared at each other while Cuphead stuck his tongue out to her. Natalie stuck her tongue out in response.

Chalice sighed. “Okay. How about you both shake hands and call it a truce between you two for tonight?”

Cuphead groaned and looked at Natalie. He extended his hand out to shake Natalie’s hand.

Natalie squinted Cuphead’s hand. “Did you wash your hands?”

“Are you serious?” Cuphead growled.

“What?! You could be touching something gross and I’ll end up sick because of you. I can’t have that,” Natalie said with her arms crossed.

“Just shake his hand, Natalie,” Chalice said with a groan.

Natalie rolled her eyes and looked at Cuphead. “If I end up sick, I blame you.” She shook his hand.

Chalice smiled grandly. “Great! Now let’s get some sleep.” She transformed into a ghost and flew up to the top bunk on the left side of the room.

Natalie blinked in surprise at Chalice’s sudden transformation.

“You get used to it,” Cuphead stated while going over to the bottom bunk bed below Chalice and laid there.

Natalie turned to Mugman and Cassidy. “Have a good night you two.” She climbed up to the top bunk bed on the right side of the room. That only left one bottom bunk bed. It was big enough to fit both Cassidy and Mugman, but they weren’t sure if they should sleep on the same bunk together.

Mugman glanced over at Cassidy. “I’ll take the floor.”

Cassidy perked her head up and shook her head. “No, you can go ahead and take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“No, I insist. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, no, I insist that you sleep on the bed.”

“Just share the bed,” Natalie said with a groan in annoyance.

Cassidy and Mugman looked at each other, blushing.

“U-Uh, it’s only for one night…right?” Mugman replied mostly to himself.

An idea struck the red feline’s head. She crawled onto the bed and used the pillows to separate both him and her. “There. That way we won’t roll on top of each other by accident.”

Mugman got onto the bed and laid there next to the pillow wall Cassidy created between them.

“Well, goodnight, Mugman. I’ll see you in the morning,” Cassidy said while turning over to face the wall, hiding her blush.

Mugman turned over with his back to her, blushing as well. “Uh…goodnight.”

After a tense moment, they both fell asleep on the bottom bunk.

To Be Continued...

#cuphead #cuphead: isle of shadows rewrite #elder kettle #henchman #king dice #mugman #stickler #the devil cuphead #oc villian #ocs x canons #cuphead porkrind

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densi-mber · 2 years ago

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The Shards of Me

A/N: Set during episode 5x01, Ascension. I’m not sure this is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written, but I’m partial to writing about this storyline. Given the episode, it’s also quite whumpy. Enjoy!

***

People surround him, roughly transferring him to a bed. Deeks inhales sharply and he inadvertently clenches his teeth, resulting in a sharper spike of pain throughout his jaw and head amidst the constant agony. The noises and sound of people shouting around him are reduced to a faint buzz, then flare as loud as if someone is using a bullhorn.

Everything is pain.

He’s aware of Kensi and Granger in the room, Sam beside him on another narrow bed.

A doctor demands he open his mouth, rough and matter-of-fact in his urgency, and Deeks refuses, clenching his jaw even tighter. He hits at the hands that try to restrain him, acting on instinct, fighting back now that he can.

He spits out another mouthful of blood. Everything smells and tastes of it. It makes his stomach heave.

“Back off, give him a minute,” Sam says and they finally stop touching him.

Then suddenly Kensi’s next to him, gripping his hand. His savior and distraction during Sidorov’s endless torture. He wants her to never let go, and can barely stand her touch.

He inhales shallowly, teeth still clenched despite the overwhelming pain.

“Deeks, you have to listen to the doctor.” He barely hears her plea, can’t look at her, can’t focus on anything beyond ensuring no one else hurts him.

For a second, he hears Sidorov’s taunts in his head, and swears the man is here in the room with him. Glancing around wildly, Deeks catches Sam’s eyes and sees the pain, the fear, but above all else, understanding.

It’s just the two of them for a moment, recognizing the other’s pain, the absolute horror of it all. He thinks he sees Sam nod, reassuring him, even as he struggles for breath.

Then someone grabs his arm, he feels a sharp jab, and no amount of struggling can keep him from slipping into darkness. He fights itthough. He fights to stay awake, to have some semblance of control, right until the last moment of consciousness.

***

“Tell me the truth, Detective. Who is Quinn working for?”

The drill whirs again, descending towards Deeks’ mouth again and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Deeks flinches, even though there’s no where to go. Sidorov has made sure of that. The brief reprieve was not nearly long enough, and it’s almost worse as the metal bites into flesh and tooth again.

And he screams.

Deeks wakes in a hazy state of confusion, not sure what’s real. His throat is raw from screaming and he can’t breathe. He closes his eyes, Sidorov, Sam, Michelle…Kensi, all of it coming back in sharp fragments that make him shake.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s aware enough to realize he’s alone and in a hospital room.

Right, the emergency room. His hands quake, and he grabs onto the tiny tray in front of him in a desperate search for stability. He notices the IV in his right hand then, and briefly considers pulling it out. The thought of anything sharp right now makes his heart pound, threatens to send him back over the edge into the waking nightmare of his memories.

In desperation, Deeks feels for his face, for anything to ground him, to distract from those memories. His cheek is swollen; he follows it down to his jaw, hissing at the pain caused by the lightest of touches. His mouth still has the tang of blood. At least he isn’t nearly drowning in it anymore, thanks to the cotton pads he feels jammed inside his cheeks.

Whatever they gave him must have worn off because everything hurts.

Something outside his door crashes, and he scrambles backwards, heartbeat instantly racing, the smell of motor oil in his nose, a drill whirring in his ear as the machines around him sound off in alarm.

Head falling back, Deeks gasps, each breath bringing a fresh wave of pain.

He has never felt so broken.

#densimber 6.0 #densimber 2022 #densimber day 27 #ncis la fanfiction #ascension #Marty Deeks #Kensi Blye #Sam #Deeks’ whump #angst #by ejzah

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blondefoxmedic · 1 year ago

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Till the end

Immortality comes with many costs.

Nathans hands wrapped around the delicate silk robe as if to rip or strangle it and held on. His breath was going unevenly and his lips were quivering until he remembered to sink his sharp teeth into the bottom one. The metallic taste and the sharp pain were better than succumbing to the tears and heartbreaking agony of what has and was yet supposed to happen. He couldn’t stay like this forever. Kneeling on the cold floor drowning in self-pity while fully knowing he brought this upon himself. He would have time to grieve later, just one more stone added to the graveyard in the back of his mind anyway. Curse his formidable memory, immortality should come with at least some amnesia to make it bearable. But stones don’t just disappear and keep weighting you down. With a pained scream he threw the robe across the room. Too bad it was silk. It didn’t get far which is even more unsatisfying. As if he can’t get it far away from himself. Nathan should burn it. But burning it would hurt even more. Remind him even more. No, no. NO. He picked it up again and teared through the fabric with his claws. Again and again. But it was not enough to satisfy him, oh no he needed so much more. He couldn’t stay, old habits die hard and what is one less town in the endless woods of some American state. He hated America anyway. Twice as much as a doctor in a fucked up system. A devious smile tugged on his bleeding lips but it did not reach his eye. There was no joy, just anger and he looked so tired, he was even more tired than he looked. Nothing truly prepares you for the insanity of humanity repeatedly following the same patterns all over again. Greed, hunger, war, death, rebuild, flourish, greed, hunger, war, death. Kingdoms rise and fall. In the end people just die. He will too eventually. Hasn’t so far. Nathan has killed enough tho. But what is a few more. It will not stop the pain, it will not change anything but he is good at it and it will grant him a few more years he can use to. To do what exactly? He isn’t sure anymore. There is nothing to avenge anymore, no revenge to be taken. No love, no hate. The amount of lives saved by his practices is way smaller than the ones he has taken by now. He felt the anger vanishing from his body making him topple like a cut off marionette. The weight on his chest was tiring him, crushing him. Death, he hadn’t thought about death in a while, not in this way. Absently minded his fingers rubbed over the torn fabric between his hands. His eye flickered to his gramophone, then to his record collection. It has grown immensely over the past years. Not all records were his, tho he supposed they are now. Maybe he should give them a last listen. One last day. Immortal until the day he dies, it is a luxury if one thinks about it. One he should have appreciated more but he was so angry, so tired and hurt, hurting. And the price he payed for it was immense. “Fine!” He declared to the empty room. “Fine. One last day. I’ll make it count.”

#my writing #tf2 oc #nathan-maria spieluhr #cw sui mention #no beta we die like my sanity #tf2 rp

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notbrokenjustfake · 9 months ago

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What would you do if you had Dottore in front of you right now? {Give us blood}

The question would be better phrased as: what wouldn’t he do? A smirk spread across his face, malicious, with a slight hint of the depravity locked within.

He was… unconcerned with the fight. Death for him would be a welcome respite and he’d not use his Vison here. What need does he really have for it? Being alive for 400 years teaches a man how to kill and such gifts from paltry Gods did not seem fitting for such a special occasion.

For this he’d choose a Katana and knives bathed in bitterness and toxins. He is not ill adept with these toys, having used them for longer than most have drawn breath, and he does wield them with brutal precision.

One might expect him to simply crush his skull in, not stopping until long after the good doctor ceased his fucking breathing, chunks of pink, red spewing forth and pooling. Fragile bone collapsing under his heel with a sickly crunch, the puppet covered in what little remained of that arrogant sadistic head.

He had considered it, mulling it over in hazy daydreams, but this was too quick and more than Dottore deserved.

There is a void to fill. Holes that can never be made whole. Surly that deserves more than the simple scattering of the Doctors most precious of insides?

“Hmmm…” A soft mutter as he took time to consider.

“So.many.options! But for this… I will return to him all he had so lovingly gifted to me.” A boisterous reply in a melodic tone, Ajuki’s arms stretched out for his performance.

With a small bend over, he raised an eyebrow. “What could be more fitting than digging into his flesh to pull apart the things that make him tick? Hmm…”

He’d fold his arms behind his back and take deliberately paced steps, still grinning. “Carving into flesh I’ll start by exposing what allows him to move, severing just enough to end his squirming and leaving it so he will still feel… everything.”

“Then,” The puppet turned on his heel. “I will pull the very same song from his lips as he did from mine. A symphony of agony brought about by endless prodding of every nerve and muscle... I do wonder just how long he will last.”

A beat passed as he leaned down, a grim smile spreading from ear to ear. “I am willing to bet that it won't be as long as he and I would hope for."

#tw: torture #cw: torture #tw: murder #cw: murder #tw: gore #cw: gore #;asks #//edited for typo ffs skghd

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hom3land3r · 4 days ago

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The more Angela screamed, the more satisfaction the demon got. His gaze met James’, holding onto the silent reassurance as they both got the justice they deserved. Their minds connected, Angela baring all the pain that both beasts had to share. While they in turn felt…relief. What he would’ve given to make this moment last forever, the ignorant bitch trapped in an endless loop of pain. That’s all she deserved.

Yet it was satisfying nonetheless, both James and Mirrorlander working together, giving in to their more primal nature. This was when the pair were more alike than ever. Unforgiving. No mercy. Just overwhelming pain. Out the corner of his eye he saw Angela’s body twitch and flail while her mortal body and mind was being overloaded with intense agony. Yet the demon found himself unable to look anywhere else but into those green eyes. He’d had enough of the woman. He didn’t want to waste any more time looking at her. She was nothing.

Mirrorlander felt everything James did, felt the joy he got from his kill. It was raw and animalistic, sensations the demon knew all too well. He couldn’t have been more proud in this moment. He was blown away by James’ merciless side, the lengths he would go for the one he loved. While the picture in front of him would’ve terrified anyone else and filled them with disgust, to Mirrorlander it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Love and loyalty incarnate.

He watched as James eased back, lips stained crimson. This wasn’t a clean kill by any means. It was personal. He watched every movement his lover made, finding himself falling in love all over again. The vampire could well and truly handle his own, and the demon oh so loved when he did. Watching him shine like this was a true gift, a memory that wouldn’t ever be forgotten. Angela was now a thing of the past, broken beyond repair as was her body once she was tossed aside like trash. Mirrorlander smirked at the sickening crack of bones, the ending song of what was once Angela. Reduced to nothing but a corpse.

His attention was quick to focus on his brat, his own gaze softening as he admired the man before him. The cheeky remarks earned a chuckle from the blonde as he gave a nod. “That was always a weakness of hers. Though, what does one expect when trying to meddle in Supe and Unnatural affairs?” Mirrorlander smirked, though his gaze watched James cautiously as he approached the cage. Despite the heat being turned off, he was concerned of it lingering and harming his beloved.

As James swung open the cage door and stepped inside with such confidence, the demon took an instinctive step back. His gaze shifted to the extended hand and then back to stare into those softening eyes. He wanted nothing more than to hold his brat, but he was terrified of hurting him. “I don’t…want to hurt you.” He admitted, brows furrowing. It seemed that the harshness Mirrorlander carried had melted away with the heat. “Normally there’s protocols for cooling the cage…and me. The doctors would blast cold water on me when they’d finished their tests, so that I wouldn’t burn them.” He explained, the memories rising to the surface yet he shook them away.

“Course, an ice cold shower would be preferable.” He added. “It’ll help regulate my body temperature back to normal. Safe for touching, among other things.” He said with a small smile. Perhaps the demon was being overly cautious, however he didn’t want to put James’ safety and wellbeing at risk. Especially considering how heat posed a threat to vampires.

Mirrorlander would’ve warned James not to touch the cage had he any strength to do so. His brows furrowed in concern hearing his lover hiss and seeing the smoke rise from his palm. He wanted to tell James to get back, to keep his distance. He wanted to say a lot of things, but his energy was too drained to even utter a sound. It was like he was frozen there, melded with the cage itself, not moving. The only sign of life being his ragged heartbeat working overtime.

He couldn’t even react to James’ voice, the softer tone when speaking with him. All that mattered was that he was here now, and that the demon’s time within the cage was coming to an end. Hazy eyes watched as James turned to Angela once more and ordered her to turn off the heat. It was useless for her to resist. She was cornered now, stuck in a room with a very pissed off vampire who had the ability to make her do whatever he wanted. She’d lost. And she’d soon pay the price for it.

The air finally began to settle, no longer as thick with heat. But it was still there, still trapped within the cage. However, Mirrorlander slowly regained his strength now that he wasn’t cooking alive any more. As air ventilated, he gasped deeply, inhaling it quickly. So quickly he caused himself to cough from it, but it felt so good to be able to breathe again. He could put up with the lingering warmth. He used the wall as support as he slowly rose to his feet. He was shaky, unbalanced, but his energy was returning. He could focus now on what was going on around him, his gaze instantly locking with James as if to ensure himself the leech really was here. That this wasn’t just his mind playing tricks. He gave a small nod as thanks, but also reassurance that he was alright. He felt their bond again, loud, strong and unbreakable. If there was anything James wanted to know, it would be open for him to read through their connection. Mirrorlander was now an open book, guard well and truly gone when it came to the vampire.

Their attention then shifted to Angela who still had to be dealt with. The demon was glad he was more awake and alert for this as he didn’t want to miss a single second of his lover in action. He smirked as James grabbed her and held her against him in a very primal vampiric hold. His gaze shifted to Angela as she stared at him in fear, yet the blonde only tilted his head slightly as he looked at her, almost as if saying i told you so. Now that she was in that unbreakable grasp, this truly was the end for her. Mirrorlander witnessing her final moments. And he felt nothing but joy.

His hateful gaze softened as he looked at James, loving the mischief in those gorgeous green eyes. “Sounds like a perfect idea.” There would be no mercy from either of them. The demon focused, staring Angela down as she screamed when fangs pierced flesh. He was right there, flooding her mind with the pain, the suffocating warmth that he felt trapped in that cage. Every nerve set on fire, the woman burning from the inside. Oh yes, her last moments would be full of nothing but agony as the two beasts devoured on her pain and suffering. Mirrorlander’s eyes began to glow. While he was still unable to use his lasers, it didn’t stop the sheer rage he felt shining through. “I warned you, Angela. You sealed your fate the moment you thought I was yours to take. You have no one to blame for this but yourself. I never was nor ever will be yours. You can tell that to Madelyn, Edgar and Vogelbaum when you see them in hell.” The demon spat the words, viscous and sharp as any blade. Though he’d said all he wanted to say. The rest was up to James. This was his moment and one that Mirrorlander would always remember. The moment when everything changed for him, his outlook on the vampire. He’d been so used to people causing John pain that he didn’t trust anyone, wouldn’t let anyone in.

Except for James. It would always be James.

#ashortdropandsuddenstop #norrilander #who belongs to who #she deserved that #blood tw #death tw

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cassieoz · 2 years ago

Text

It's Coming!!!

Jennifer rubbed her eyes. She had been working for hours on her laptop and decided to put her head down from her endless studying. Her exams started in a one week and she had been very focused on completing her notes on each subject. Jennifer was preparing to take her finals in senior midwifery. She layed down against the soft pillows and rolled over and turned off the light.

A very bright light suddenly woke Jennifer from her deep sleep. There was frantic movement around her as she could hear sounds of machines and people talking in a hurried fashion.

"This one is ready, Doctor. We had checked her and she is more than fully dilated. The contractions are coming faster than expected."

Jennifer opened her eyes wider and tried to focus on her surroundings. She couldn't believe it when she finally realised what was happening. She was in a huge delivery room with everything ready for an extreme birth. She smiled to herself. This had always been a secret fantasy for her. To be the birther and the baby would be abnormally gigantic.

"Next contraction approaching, Doctor!"

Jennifer was now aware of the most intense burning at her opening. She didn't have to hear the words "PUSH" to follow her urge to bear down. Jennifer grabbed hold on the side bars and strained with all her might. The heaviness inside her vagina was breathtaking. The searing intensity grew rapidly as she strained with more concentration. Jennifer pushed and pushed, gasping for breath between the efforts to keep the work of birthing strong. This was harder than she had ever thought possible. The stretching of her folds and huge weight as the head forced it's way forward through her entrance was completely surreal.

"It's huge! Keep it up! This is what we want to see. Big babies being pushed out of narrow passages. Focus and push again! Scream if you like! Giant babies hurt to birth!"

Jennifer tried to stay calm and focus on the pushing action for the next hour. She strained strongly and grunted loudly with each long, strenuous surge. As the second intense hour approached, the medical team became ever more excited.

"It's Coming! The head is massive. Keep it up. Strong pushes now. It's ready to form an enormous O shape between your vaginal folds. As I have said, you can scream it out if that will help!"

Jennifer groaned and gave it all she could give. She was determined to continue her powerful efforts without giving into the need to yell out. She bore down as the burning pain and pressure mixed together. She gripped the bars harder and stronger as the head pounded towards a full crown.

The medical team were watching the monitors and preparing all necessary instruments in case of medical assistance was required.

Jennifer suddenly felt the most intensive pain between her thighs. Her eyes grew wide and her mind spun wildly. She was finally entering the final stage of birthing this massive baby. She couldn't hold back anymore. She had tried as long as possible. Jennifer leant forward and yelled out at the top of her lungs. The head was exploring at full force through her. The excruciating pain was the most intense sensation of her life.

The senior doctor smiled behind his mask. All birthing mothers finally succumb to the agony of delivery as the head is finally delivered. He held up the gigantic baby as the rest of the body powered from her body as the head arrived into the doctor's hands.

"Incredible! 16 pounds! You will make an amazing midwife and birther at this hospital!"

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lubdubsworld · 3 years ago

Text

⋆⋆✵ Perfect Imperfections ✵⋆⋆

Chapter 1

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

No one tells you how easy it is to imagine yourself in love with a beautiful man. Especially when you don’t have a clear understanding of what love actually is.

When I met Jungkook, even knowing he was in love with my sister hadn’t done much to douse the flames of hope and attraction. He was a lot of things that other men in my life weren’t. Kind without being pitying. Concerned without being overbearing. He took care of me without making me feel helpless. And there was always such a thin line between these things that I found myself impressed by his ability to toe the line so well.

Jungkook took care of me without making me feel like a burden and I suppose, some part of me had assumed that this could, in due time turn into love. But I was clearly wrong.

Jungkook and Liza had been kissing in the hallway of their hotel room and someone had taken pictures. My father and his had managed to get them taken down but the news was already out, spreading like wildfire . My phone began ringing sometime around eight in the morning and hadn’t stopped. It was now a little past one in the afternoon and I felt queasy, despite the assurances that it was all being taken care of.

It was the pity in everyone’s face that I couldn’t bear.

I wasn’t hurt. Angry, yes? Upset? Of course. But I wasn’t hurt because there really was nothing to be hurt about. Jungkook didn’t love me. He was in love with my sister . He had made it clear, through his words and his actions, over and over again. At this point, I could see this debacle as nothing more than a possible way to get out of the marriage. Perhaps, my father would approve of a divorce?

I glanced at the article again.

The photo is just so annoyingly clear, I thought with a grimace. If it was a little blurry, I could convince myself it wasn’t him and her. But it was clear. That was my husband with his lips locked with my sister’s. Against my better judgment, I read the article again. It was a gossip column, of course there would be nothing good in there. But sometimes curiosity can be a persistent thing.

I felt my skin crawling as I realized that the phrases were all pretty true. There was no gossip here. Just plain facts.

And then my eyes reached the end of the article.

Of note is the fact that Jeon Jungkook’s wife is disabled and perhaps the virile young man is merely looking for pleasure he can’t find in his own marital bed.

I swallowed, quickly exiting the page and tossing the phone on the bed, away from me. I stared out of the window of our bedroom, the large doors left open to let air and sunlight in. There was a tall sycamore tree right outside out bedroom and the branches almost reached in and I stared at the rustling leaves, trying to scrub my mind clean of the words I’d just read.

But it was impossible.

It wasn’t something I hadn’t thought of. The stark difference between me and Jungkook, physically. He spent five days a week in the gym and they were right. He was a young man with healthy sexual appetites.

I’d never cheat on you. Jungkook’s voice from a week ago still echoed somewhere inside my skull.

I sighed, playing with my wedding ring.

I wasn’t a virgin when I married Jungkook. Hadn’t been one , when I got into the accident either. My then boyfriend, a tall strapping lit major had been a very sexual guy as well and our libidos had matched pretty well. But I’d been an athletic nineteen year old, able to bend like a pretzel at his whim and there was just endless time and endless stamina and just a whole lot of attraction . We had spent hours, exploring each other the way college kids do. Weekends in bed spent trying every possible permutation of sex positions and kinks and I’d discovered all the things I liked. All the things I didn’t.

But then the accident had happened and well, when you’re in crippling agony, sometimes sex takes the backseat. I’d been focused on my recovery, on making sure that I came out of this at least with the ability to walk and I’d succeeded. Burying the part of me that craved a man’s touch, it wasn’t easy but it was necessary.

And then Jungkook had happened.

Sex with Jungkook hadn’t been difficult. Not really. I wasn’t completely crippled after all but it was also nowhere near as exciting as it could be with someone who had full use of her legs. I knew that. It was kind of obvious. But I hadn’t dwelt too much on it because to be honest, Jungkook hadn’t looked like he’d minded. He had seemed to enjoy himself .

But then reading about how he probably hadn’t enjoyed it definitely stung.

Worse yet, probably half the country was reading it with me. I felt nauseous. Did no one think that they should have left the last part out of that article? It was terrible enough without adding that bit about me.

A faint buzzing made me turn to the bed.

I glanced at my phone as it rang, my father in law’s name prominent on the screen.

Showtime, I thought with a grimace.

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

“I suppose it was too much to hope for , expecting that boy to keep his dignity. This is outrageous.” Mr. Jeon’s loud voice rang through the foyer of the house and I flinched, gripping the edge of the futon as Sana jumped a bit . She sat next to me, holding my hand carefully. Moral support I supposed but I was feeling entirely too blasé about the whole thing. None of this was unexpected, I thought miserably and I wasn’t feeling up to pretending otherwise.

“I still wish they’d talked to me about this.”

My brother in law’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. The man looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back and I felt a pang of genuine sympathy. He looked wrecked and it was obvious she was in love with my sister. Resentment coiled thick and deep inside me. Resentment and envy.

With no effort at all she had charmed both the Jeon brothers, I thought bitterly.

Jeon Jihyun looked absolutely stricken at the thought of losing his wife.

“I’ve asked Lisa to take the first flight out. She called me this morning, hysterical. It was something done in the heat of the moment. She .. She’s very apologetic. I believe her and I’m willing to forgive her. We’re…. We’re thinking of starting a family together. ” He said softly and my stomach turned.

I felt my skin go ice cold as I wrapped my arms around myself. Shivering just a bit, I lightly squeezed Sana’s hand. She looked at me in askance and I had to swallow to get my voice out, throat dry. The words made me want to retch. I could imagine how Jungkook would take this news.

“Can you get me my shawl? It’s in the green room.” I said hoarsely. She bowed before moving away from me and when I looked back up, Jihyun’s gaze caught mine.

“This must be hard on you.” He said softly and I flushed, staring down at my knees.

“Not like I can run from it. Literally or figuratively.” I smiled without mirth.

“Jungkook is …he’s just confused. He needs some time to sort himself out. I’ve asked him to take a break and come back to Seoul after a couple of weeks. The separation would do him some good.” Jihyun said quietly and I sighed before nodding. What else was I supposed to say to that anyway? There wasn’t much I could do, my influence on things almost nonexistent at this point.

“Are you going to give the boy a break, Jeon?” My father demanded, staring at Jungkook’s father who sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to get these damned reporters off our back. They’re all over the place. And yes, I think Jungkook should stay in Japan for a while. We’re starting a new distribution branch there and I wanted him to scout places and possible vendors. I’ll tell him to hash out all the details before coming back.”

His phone rang again and he excused himself . I watched him leave the room, trying to make sense of his words.

How long would it take to build a whole branch in Japan? I had no clue. But it could hardly be done in a few weeks, could it?

“That’s.. That’s a long time.” I said hesitantly and my father frowned.

“is that a problem?” he asked.

I sighed. There was no point keeping this to myself. I was supposed to go to the doctor’s tomorrow. And well, it would be better if they heard it from me first.

“I.. I’m pregnant.” I said quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the carpet, not able to bring myself to look up at them. I could guess, what I’d find there. It was what I always found in people’s faces.

“Oh, sweet child.” My father’s sigh made me look up and there it was. The pity. I felt sick to my stomach. Sana returned, settling the hand knit shawl over my shoulders and I wrapped it tight, before glancing at her in some desperation. She smiled reassuringly, settling next to me and gently taking my fingers in hers. The warmth grounded me for a second and when Jihyun growled, I stared at him.

“I… I didn’t know. Fuck, I’m going to kill Jungkook. This fucker…” Jihyung swore and my father sighed, clearly thinking hard.

“you can’t be staying alone now.” He said softly, sitting up and cracking his knuckles, and I swallowed. I wouldn’t bear it if they tried to take me back home. I had hated it there.

“ You must come back home with me.” He said softly but I quickly shook my head.

“ No.. No I won’t. I … Please.” I begged, the mere idea of going back to my childhood home a nightmare. My mother would kill me with just her sharp and vindictive words. I was in no shape to put up with her verbal and emotional abuse. It was one of the things that had made me agree to marry Jungkook in the first place.

“Well, you can’t stay here by yourself.” My father protested. I’ve been by myself my whole damn life, I wanted to scream.

“I’ll be fine. I have Sana and the others to help me.” I said tiredly. My father shook his head before turning to Jihyun again.

“Is Namjoon still working on his book?” My father asked him and Jihyun frowned. The name elicited a tug in my memory and I turned to stare at my father, confused.

“You remember him? He used to tutor you when you were hi High School.”

I had a brief flashback to dimples and almond shaped eyes. I remembered him vaguely. Very vaguely. But nowhere well enough to want him to live with me, alone or not.

“Dad…” I protested but he held a hand up to silence me, nodding at Jihyun .

“Namjoon? Kim Namjoon? ” He shook his head. “ I’m not sure. Why?”

“I think it would be good if he moves in here. His father was telling me that he was looking for a place to stay, now that he’s moved back to Korea. ” My father said softly, staring at me and I stiffened.

“Father…” I began desperately and my father shook his head.

“Don’t argue. He was a dear friend of yours. I don’t think you should be alone at a time like this. And I think Jungkook would approve. Like Jihyun said, the kid needs some space to sort himself out. Let him finish whatever business is going on in Japan.” My father glanced at Mr. Jeon who looked at me with guilt.

“I owe you an apology , on behalf of my idiot son.”

I looked away, not sure what to say to that. I hated the man quite passionately. Jungkook wasn’t perfect… far from it. But this man had taken a sledgehammer to my husband’s mind and heart at every turn. The disdain, the condescension, the sick way he favored his brother over him, the way nothing Jungkook did was ever good enough. It had all taken a toll on my husband. I had watched it chip away at Jungkook’s self confidence, at his mental health.

“I think more than anything, you owe an apology to your son. You knew he was in love with Lisa and yet…. You forced him to marry me.” I said quietly and the room went eerily quiet. My father rounded on me , eyes blazing.

“Leah!!! Apologize, now!” He roared and I looked away.

“You’re all the same. Ungrateful and entitled.” Mr. Jeon said sharply, before turning to his son. “ I’m leaving Jihyun-ah. Tell me when that wife of yours get home. I want to talk to her.”

He shared a half hug with my father before stalking off and my father grabbed his jacket as well.

“I’ll leave as well. Your mother is being quite hysterical. Apparently, all her friends are hounding her about the article.” He sighed and I nodded , watching him shrug on the jacket before nodding at Jihyun and then following his friend out to the front doors.

Jihyun stayed standing , watching my father’s form disappear through the door before turning to me.

“ Are you alright?” He said quietly, moving to kneel in front of me. Sana stood up, bowing before leaving and I watched her disappear into the hallway leading to the kitchens. Jihyun’s fingers wrapped around mine, brushing my knees and I stared down at him.

“The question is, are you alright?” I brushed the hair off his face. He sighed.

“No. No I’m not. I’m angry and jealous and very much filled with resentment towards my brother.” He said honestly and I laughed, tugging on his hand and patting the seat next to me. He straightened before moving to settle next to me and I leaned on his shoulders, sighing as he wrapped on around me, the warmth of his body comforting .

“Are you going to give your marriage a chance?” I asked carefully.

“She told me she was going to break things off for good. We.. We’ve been talking about it. Starting a family, making this work.” He said quietly. I nodded. It was understandable. Unlike Jungkook and I , Jihyun had a responsibility. He would need a son and even though people liked to act like they didn’t care much about gender, like they didn’t care much about having children , it was sort of an unspoken rule. First son of the house ? You had to have a male heir to carry the family name.

I wondered how that conversation had gone between Jungkook and Lisa. It didn’t really match the photo I’d seen.

“I suppose Jungkook probably put up a fight. He genuinely wants to end up with her. He… He tells me often that he loves her and can’t love anyone else. ” I wondered if I ought to feel embarrassed or insulted.

But the truth was, I was numb to a lot of things that had once hurt quite a lot..

The conversation with Jungkook about my pregnancy had definitely cleared things up for me. There was nothing there worth salvaging. Chasing something that wasn’t real , that was foolishness. Especially when I had a very real baby to think about. A child that counted on me to make the right choices.

“I don’t think he did. She spoke to me last night and said that he agreed. Of course that was before the article came out. I’d like to think she didn’t lie to me but I’m not sure.”

I sighed, settling in closer to his chest. He was warm and firm, solid and reliable. I wondered if it would have been easier, if my father had just married me off to Jihyun instead. Jihyun and I …we were alike. We had been friends , even from childhood. Had watched with fond adoration as our younger siblings had fallen madly, wildly in love. Jungkook and Liza had been drawn to each other from the first. Inevitable.

Jihyun and I were more carefree. We didn’t feel things that intensely and perhaps that was why we could sit here in the calm of the afternoon air, quiet and introspective when we ought to be furious and raging.

“ Should we run off together? You and i?” He said suddenly making me laugh.

“Very much incapable of running.” I reminded him with a grin and he squeezed my shoulder .

“I’d carry you.” He said simply.

“Where would we go?” I asked curiously, indulging the fantasy for just a few minutes.

“Somewhere far away. Maybe India? There’s so many people there and we could get lost in the crowds.”

“That does sound appealing.” I smiled and turned to look up at him. His face inches from mine, not as handsome as Jungkook but strong featured and kind. “ But I’m not alone anymore. I have a child.”

His gaze dipped to my lap.

“Yes. Jungkook’s child.” He said thoughtfully.

“No. Mine. Nobody else’s . Just mine.” I said quietly. Jihyun’s gaze softened. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, echoing his father’s words.” On behalf of my idiot brother, I’m sorry.”

And where Mr. Jeon’s words hadn’t made any sort of impact, Jihyun’s made my heart clench and ache in the worst way. Self pity was something I loathed but sometimes, being handed the short end of the stick at every turn in life makes it impossible to not feel sorry for yourself.

Tears stung, welling up in my eyes and spilling over my lashes like water bubbling out of an aquifer.

I blinked slowly, not bothering to wipe them as they traced a path down my face, dripping into the fabric of my shawl. In a moment of clarity I wondered what Jungkook must be going through now. Nothing good for sure.

It definitely said something, that I still worried for him. Sighing, I let Jihyun hug me closer. I would take advantage of his kindness for a few more minutes. It had been a while since someone had held me like I mattered.

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

I called Jungkook that evening.

It wasn’t an easy choice but my heart ached and my mind raced with unanswered questions. I didn’t want to get lost in my own thoughts so I didn’t overthink it. We were still married. I was allowed to call him.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” I asked quietly and Jungkook’s groan made my face heat up a little.

“I… Leah?” He sounded groggy. I glanced at the time. It wasn’t late.

“Are you sleeping?”

He didn’t reply for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about what happened. We.. We didn’t do anything else. It was just.. it was a kiss. Just that.”

“Are you still in the hotel?” I asked quietly ignoring his words.

“ For tonight, yes. Dad wants me to stay with a friend of his. I’ll be going over to their place tomorrow morning.” He replied .

Silence followed for a few seconds.

“Namjoon is moving in tomorrow.” I said stiffly.

Jungkook didn’t respond for a minute or so.

“Yes. Father said it’s a good idea. And I agree. You shouldn’t be alone while I’m here. He’s right. Hyung’s a nice guy. He’ll help you out.” Jungkook said softly.

“Liza came home. She wanted to talk to me.” I said quietly.

Jungkook didn’t reply and I sighed.

“I told her I wasn’t going to talk to her before I talked to you. I don’t… I don’t want to say anything to her that I haven’t already said before. But I still want to know your thoughts on all this. Your plans, that is. I take it you weren’t happy with her ending things.” I said stiltedly.

Jungkook didn’t reply for a few seconds.

“Things between us ended a long time ago, Leah. It was over when we both agreed to marry other people. Maybe even before that, I don’t know… I … I guess I just didn’t want to acknowledge them.” He said quietly. “ She’s different, now. Even that kiss felt so wrong. She’s moving on. I’m glad in a way. She deserves better than me. She deserves someone like hyung. He’s better than me in everyway and-”

God I wanted to strangle him.

“So why did you kiss her?” I snapped. “ If you’re so generously letting her go why would you…” I stopped.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. It was barely for a second.” He muttered. “ whoever it was must’ve been videoing us for a while.”

I had to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, this little detail made no difference.

“Right.” I sighed. “ So, you won’t be home for a while?”

“Six weeks at least.” He said quietly.

I tried to keep the disappointment down. I still wanted to see him, just to make sure he was okay. But I knew that was just the pregnancy hormones talking.

“Okay.” I said simply.

“How are you? Did you go see the doctor?” He asked softly and the question surprised me. I was half sure he had forgotten.

“No, not yet. Maybe in a couple of days.” I scratched at a small stain on my skirt. Lime juice and baking soda, I thought absently. That should get the stain out.

“Its pretty late. You should go see the doctor, Leah. I.. I looked stuff up. They say you have to be on pre natal vitamins, folic acid and iron supplements and you have to have a balanced diet. I called Sana earlier and told her to speak to our doctor and get a diet chart for you. She said she’ll do it soon. So , please take care of yourself.”

Jungkook sounded entirely serious and as always my brain felt muddled, unable to process why he did the things he did. He had looked things up about the pregnancy and that implied some sort of interest, didn’t it? But ….. he had also kissed my sister so what was I supposed to do with this?

“I’ll call you.” I said shakily, drained. I was done for the day.

“Right.” He said softly. “ Namjoon hyung will be there tomorrow right? Should I talk to him? He could take you to the doctor.”

“No.. That’s fine. I’ll manage.” I said quickly.

“You’re sure?” There was genuine worry there.

“Yes.” I sighed.

“Alright.”

Silence again. I exhaled shakily.

“Should I hang up?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. Good night. ” He breathed.

“Good night, Jungkook.”

Click.

I stared at the wall, gently lowering the phone and placing it on the bed next to me.

She deserves better than me, his voice echoed in my head.

Well, so did I.

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

Namjoon looked nothing like the twenty one year old college student I’d seen a decade ago. I knew he was a successful novelist and I’d read all his books. They were mostly philosophical or commentaries on life and emotions. I enjoyed the way he wrote : melancholic and deep but also clear and easy to understand. It was like staring at a particularly deep pool, being able to see all the way down to the bottom because of how clean the waters were. But once you put your feet in, the depth always surprised you.

“That’s a lot of books.” I laughed, gripping the edge of the door frame as I watched him stumble under the weight of a crate full of bound books. Namjoon’s messy brown hair peeked over the top, and when he adjusted the huge load to stare at me, I caught sight of his handsome face stretched in a dimpled grin, eyes glinting.

“Research.” He grunted, straightening himself up and I watched the flex of his muscles as he carefully moved to place the crate down in one corner of the large bedroom that I’d had cleaned for him. It was on the west wing of the house, parallel to my own bedroom that I shared with Jungkook . Namjoon had spent three years working as a professor somewhere in Indonesia. And I knew that he’d spent a year backpacking all over Scandinavia. I stared at his tall strapping figure, watching him set up his writing space carefully, sorting out boxes and electronics.

He had driven here in his Range Rover and I knew all his clothes were still there in the back of the car.

“Should I ask the footmen to get your clothes?” I asked and he glanced up at me, frowning.

“Footmen?” He looked confused and I rolled my eyes.

“Namjoon…” I said chidingly and he grinned again.

“I keep forgetting you’re filthy rich. Makes me wish I should have beaten Jungkook to the game and bagged myself a rich wife.” He winked. It was a joke but there was no mistaking the hint of interest in his eye. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. Being married to Jungkook had definitely made me question the attraction I held for men so it felt good, having someone as handsome and whole and successful as Namjoon look at me like that.

“I’ll ask them to get your clothes. You should shower and settle in. We’ll meet for dinner tonight.” I said quickly and he nodded.

“You’re going to be okay heading back to your room? Let me know if you need help.” He pointed at my feet and I nodded. It was sweet of him to offer.

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

Dinner was surprisingly not awkward at all. Namjoon had a lot of interesting stories to share and I found myself clinging to ever word in rapt attention. He spoke about all the folklore he’d run into in different places, how he thought that no matter the culture, there were always some common things you could find in every one of them. He also talked a little about his next book, which he hadn’t named yet.

“It’s about second chances. Forgiving and moving on.” He said, taking another bite of his braised pork and moving to make another lettuce wrap.

“ Heavy stuff.” I said thoughtfully. “ Most of my writing is commercial. I just try to sell stuff to reluctant people. It’s not much but it keeps me occupied and it’s always nice to make money that you can call your own.”

“It’s because you don’t write for yourself. When you start writing for yourself, you can truly be who you are.” He said firmly and I nodded in agreement.

My writing in college had been vivid and bright and filled with life. But after the accident, it had turned grey and gloomy. The words seemed to drip with loss and longing and I didn’t enjoy it, because it was a reminder that I was no longer the vibrant, attractive fulsome girl I once was.

“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” I smiled. “ Being who I am. I would rather pretend I’m at least a little alright.”

Namjoon stared at me, thoughtful.

“You used to run track.” He said softly and I grinned.

“You remember.” I said, pleased.

“Of course I do and you were captain of the volleyball team as well. You used to organize all those hikes and treks and stuff.”

“Yes I did. I loved the outdoors.” I stared out of the window.

“Loved? Past tense?” He tilted his head. I stared at him, shaking my head.

“What kind of question is that.” I shook my head. “ Look at me. I’m not trekking anytime soon, considering how the last time ended.”

“You can still go out.” He frowned. “ When was the last time you went somewhere?”

I shook my head.

“Oppa…”

“Listen. You know me. You’ve known me for more than a decade. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you rattle around this old house like a ghost when you should be out there taking in all the sunshine you can get?” Namjoon placed his chopsticks down and linked his fingers together, staring at me.

I stared at him, and it was definitely there. The concern, the affection. Not that different from when I was sixteen and struggling to understand what pathos meant.

But now there was a definite undercurrent of attraction. Back then it had been childish, the wild crush of a teenager on her hot tutor but now, now I knew that he was so much more than just a hot guy.

“I’m pregnant.” I said softly, more a reminder to myself than anything else.

Namjoon grinned.

“We’ll steer clear of horse riding and alcohol. Anything else you can just let me know.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I think I’m getting one now.” I deadpanned.

“Because you’re nervous.” He grinned.

“Because your dimples look too adorable.” I retorted.

He laughed.

“I’ll talk to Jihyun and we’ll go see your doctor first. Then we’ll go out and have a nice picnic.”

“Namjoon, I can’t…”

“You don’t know that.” He said firmly.” You don’t know if you can or can’t because you’ve never tried. Listen I love picnics and I love going out and I want company. I’m agreeing to be stuck with you for a while and the least you can do is give me company at a picnic. You know how big a loser I’d seem like if I went by myself?”

It was like I was sixteen again getting brow beaten into things by a tutor who just hated the idea of not getting his way. I shook my head fondly.

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

Fourteen weeks. Three and a half months.

I stared at the ultrasound, feeling a multitude of things, not all of them good. The baby was growing well and I had all my prescriptions filled. Namjoon had offered to come with me but I had refused. It was too intimate and he was still a stranger. I did take a photo of the ultrasound and sent it to Jungkook.

/Jungkook called me back almost at once.

“You went to the doctor?” He asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Were you running?” I asked, surprised.

“Not really. I’m supposed to be meeting one of the vendors for lunch and I thought I could walk to the restaurant but its farther than I thought.” He huffed.

“Everything’s fine. Baby’s due in July.” I said quietly.

“Summer. That’s good.” He replied. “Right?”

I hesitated. What did that mean? What did it matter when the baby would be born?

“Because winter would mean it being too cold . Summer we can take the baby out and stuff without worrying too much.” Jungkook said softly.

Oh.

“How’s work?” I asked awkwardly. The non conversation was getting tedious. There was just so much to talk about and it was obvious that both of us weren’t in the mood to actually ask or answer anything worthwhile.

“Did dad say something?” Jungkook asked quickly and I frowned.

“No. Why?”

“He wants me to join hyung in the corporate office. Leave the smelter units.” Jungkook sounded subdued and upset and I felt sympathy well inside me.

“Join him? As what?” I asked quietly.

“Head of the marketing department. I’ll be reporting to Seokjin hyung.” Jungkook had clearly started walking again, breath coming in little exhales.

“You don’t want it?” I asked confused, not sure if this was a good or bad thing.

“I mean… I have a degree in Business and Finance. Hyung’s the CEO , I was hoping I’d be the CFO.” Jungkook sighed, “ But I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t disown me altogether after what happened earlier.”

I stayed quiet and so did he.

“We need to talk . When you get back. You … I know you don’t like sharing about what you feel but you owe me an explanation.” I said firmly.

“I know. But I meant what I said when I left. I’m going to be there for you and the baby. You’re still my wife. That’s not going to change.”

I ran my fingers over the ultrasound.

“Did you also mean the part where you said you can’t stand me.” I said bitterly .

Jungkook didn’t reply.

“I… You know I didn’t. That was just something I said on impulse. I’m sorry. You’re… You’ve been nothing but good to me. And honestly, just the fact that you’re carrying my child is proof that I can definitely stand you.” He sounded just a little hoarse.

I bit my lips, staring up at the door when I heard a knock.

“Leah? I’m going to have some tea in the garden … You wanna come with?” Namjoon’s voice rang through the room and I froze.

“Oh.. Oh.. yes. I’ll be down.” I said quickly, nodding . Namjoon pointed at the phone and gave to thumbs up before moving back out.

“Was that Namjoon hyung?” Jungkook’s voice came over the line.

“Oh… yeah. Yeah, he’s… he wants me to have tea with him in the gardens.” I said awkwardly.

“That’s nice. You should go. Get out of the house once in a while.” I didn’t know what to say to that so I stayed quiet.

After another minute or so of silence, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“ I got that form you sent in for me to fill, about my medical history. I’ll fill it up and mail it to the doctor’s office. Is that alright?” He asked hesitantly. “ If not I can fly back home. If they need me in person or something.”

I frowned a bit.

“They don’t need you in person, Jungkook of course not. Mail it, that’s fine.”

Another pause.

“This is really happening huh? A baby. We’re having a baby.” The exhaustion in his voice was palpable and I wondered.

“Yes. We are.” I said simply, not having anything else to elaborate on. It was happening. I was torn between pleasure at having something to look forward to and guilt at forcing Jungkook into a role he wasn’t ready for. But , for better or for worse we were married. The child was his. It would be a Jeon.

“ I’ll do better.” He said quietly. “ With the little one. I’ll be better.”

Tears these days, sprung up out of nowhere I thought miserably, furiously swiping at my face.

“Leah?” His voice came over the line. “ Leah are you there?”

“I need to go.”

“Alright.”

“Take care of yourself too, Jungkook.”

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

Loneliness .

It’s such an odd sort of feeling. Sometimes you get used to it so much, that you forget all about it.

It stays , a part of you that doesn’t make much of an impression on you until one day, suddenly it becomes unbearable,

Until you get a glimpse of what it’s like to not be lonely.

And then suddenly it’s like a deep chasm of longing and desperation just opens up inside you, craving love and warmth and company with a hunger that feels like it can never ever be satisfied.

I’d never paid much mind to the fact that my life revolved around myself, my writing and the flowers in the garden. Not until Namjoon had come, demanding to be felt and seen and heard .

Namjoon hadn’t joked about not letting me rattle around the house. Our days were spent sprawled on the lawns of the Jeon estate, each of us occupied with our own writing . Namjoon typed away on his laptop while I preferred my leather bound notebook. It was oddly soothing, lying there on the clean cut grass, the sharp blades rubbing against my bare legs, as I leaned back against a tree trunk, watching Namjoon’s furrowed brows as he wrote.

Namjoon had changed in a lot of ways and yet he was still somehow just as I remembered, focused and often lost in his own head. He was a contemplative man and seemed to spend as much time reading as he did writing.

“There’s a poetry club that meets every Tuesday in Gangnam. Would you like to come with me?” He asked casually, about a week after he’d moved in and I considered it. The paparazzi had finally stopped hanging about the estate and Jungkook had called the previous night with a ETA for when he would be back.

Four weeks at most, he had said firmly and I wasn’t sure if I was feeling all that excited for his return anymore. Days spent with Namjoon were more exciting. He included me in every little thing and I was addicted.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was probably wrong. Namjoon was sweet and kind but I was still married. But on the wake of that thought came the bitter reminder that there was nothing between Jungkook and I. He was in love with someone else. Why should I deny myself the joy of Namjoon’s company over a relationship that really wasn’t a relationship at all.

Namjoon treated me as an equal, teased and flirted like there was nothing wrong with the two of us living like this, together and away from the rest of the world and I liked it. It made me feel like perhaps happiness wasn’t such an abstract, unreachable thing after all. That perhaps I could find happiness like this. In friendship and mindless conversation with a man who didn’t see me as a burden.

“I’d love that.” I said with a smile, letting my fingers knit together with his.

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

“Scorned wife getting even? We spotted the recently cheated on Mrs Jeon getting cozy with a strapping, buff hottie in a private restaurant last Friday and we can’t help but wonder if perhaps the reclusive lady is trying to get back at her husband by flashing her own boytoy.” Namjoon read cheerfully from his phone, looking way too entertained as he showed me the zoomed photo of us holding hands over the dinner table .

“That’s quite the description they’ve put for you.” I grimaced, sipping my chamomile tea slowly. My father and Mr. Jeon had reacted with their usual anger, threatening to sue the gossip rag for libel but it was pointless. They would keep being intrusive rats. There was nothing much to be done beyond enduring them.

“My agent’s losing his mind. He’s been at me trying to get me to agree to book signings and public appearances and he’s pissed that this is the way I get introduced to Seoul’s High society. Poor guy.” Namjoon chuckled and I felt guilt churn.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I really didn’t think they’d be following me. I mean… usually they’re only tailing Jungkook but I guess with the whole thing with Lisa , they’re just looking for ways to make things worse.” I said hesitantly.

Namjoon hesitated, staring at me for a few seconds.

“We never really talked about how things are.” He said quietly. “ Between you and Jungkook, that is.”

I ran the edge of my chopsticks on the brim of my soup bowl.

“ There’s not much to say. He’s…. He’s still sorting things out. With my sister.” I smiled a little. It ached a lot less, I realized with surprise.

“They loved each other deeply.” Namjoon said softly. “ that sort of thing doesn’t go away that quickly.”

I nodded.

“Of course. And I’ve been …understanding of that. I like to think.”

“But its unfair to you. You deserve to be loved too. Fully and well .”

I leaned back to stare at him.

“Are you offering?” I laughed, teasing.

Namjoon didn’t smile, leaning forward instead.

“Depends. Will you ever consider leaving him, for me?” He said seriously.

My heart turned over inside me.

“Namjoon…” I choked out and he reached out and lightly touched my palm.

“I know how marriages work with people like you, so I think I should draw boundaries now, if I want to keep myself safe.” He smiled a bit.

“I’m pregnant. With his child.” I swallowed and Namjoon’s brows went up.

“I thought it was your child. Yours and no one else’s.”

I felt torn, staring at him and wanting to say that I didn’t consider Jungkook as the child’s father, not in the way most people did. But I also remembered my husbands determined voice, the way he kept insisting that he wouldn’t neglect the child.

“Its not about Jungkook or the child, Leah. Its about you. You married Jungkook knowing he was in love with your sister and that tells me that you listen to your parents. You don’t want to stand up against the rules set by our parents and I don’t fault you for it. But I can’t let myself fall for you, knowing you’re going to be bound by your obligations to yurr family.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t fall in love with me.” I said easily. “ You’re right. My family comes first. And whether I want to be or not, I’m bound to Jungkook for life. So don’t fall in love with me.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Alright then.”

“Do you want to move out?” I asked bitterly and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“You clearly think I’m trying to seduce you or something when really, I-“

“Hey. Hey, Leah…no. No alright, that’s not what I meant. These two weeks, it was amazing. I love your mind and you’re easily one of my favorite people on this planet. We’re friends. And we’ll stay friends no matter what but you must know why I said what I said. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m a lonely guy.” He smiled a bit, “ I just don’t want to make it hard for myself when you want me to leave.”

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

Jungkook arrived back in Korea on a cold, rainy morning and against my better judgment I let Jihyun and Lisa drag me to the airport. It was some kind of publicity stunt, that much I could fathom but I didn’t know if Jungkook was in on it. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, he had been busy wrapping things up with the new branch in Japan.

It was another bad day for my leg and I found myself leaning heavily on my sister, her arm wrapped around my waist as we walked over to the waiting area. I could already identify a few men with cameras staring at us discreetly. Paparazzi . I saw them move their cameras down to the now obvious curve of my stomach and I swallowed. I could already imagine the articles wondering who the father was : Jungkook or Namjoon.

“You alright?” My sister asked worriedly and I nodded, not looking at her. Lisa hadn’t been discouraged by initial refusal to speak to her, keeping at it till I finally caved and let her visit me at the estate. She didn’t love Jungkook anymore, she insisted . It was over. They were over . She wanted to give her marriage a chance. Very sweet and nice, that. And it was obvious that she wasn’t lying, what with the way she and her husband kept

Jihyun and Lisa had made amends with each other and it annoyed me that they seemed to be madly in love with each other all of a sudden. Like the past couple months hadn’t even happened. I stared down at my wedding ring feeling stricken. Was it unfair that I resented them for this? Why hadn’t the two of them thought of this, of breaking things off and moving on before the damn wedding. And then maybe Jungkook and I would have had a real marriage too.

Bitter and hormonal was definitely not a good combination I thought with a wince, fingers splaying on the curve of my lower belly. It was so odd, being pregnant. The extra weight somehow foreign but also …so soothing. The last scan had shown that I had an anterior placenta and that meant that I may not feel movements for a while. I didn’t mind, having found comfort in just tracing my palm over the bare skin of my stomach.

“There he is.” Jihyun’s voice made me look up and ure enough there he was.

It wasn’t the longest we’d been away from each other and yet, I felt my heart leap at the sight of him. He truly was a very handsome man, I thought miserably. And no matter what people said, it was infinitely more difficult to hate your husband when he looked that good.

Jungkook’s eyes caught mine first and I saw the way his gaze dipped straight to the curve of my bump. Even from the ten feet between us , I saw hi lips part in surprise , eyes going wide. It probably hadn’t felt real to him till now, I thought biting my lips as he carefully handed his bags over to the two chauffeurs who had rushed to help him.

Jihyun wasted no time in bounding over and hugging his little brother tight.

I glanced at the man who had been taking photos, pleased to see the surprise in his face. Was he hoping that the CEO would punch his little brother in the face ? Idiots. Lisa stayed by my side and I exhaled shakily.

“ Dad told me something and I want to know if its true.” I said quietly.

She didn’t reply.

I took a deep breath, still watching the two brothers embrace each other, Jungkook’s face buried in Jihyun’s shoulders. I could see him shaking just a little and I felt my gut clench.

“He told me that …that you never told him that you wanted to marry Jungkook. That when he suggested Jihyun you agreed at once.”

She looked away.

“Lets talk about this later.” She said quietly.

“Does Jungkook know?” I demanded. “ Because he spent that first month of our marriage cursing our father out for forcing you to marry Jihyun. Forcing. And dad says that he did no such thing. So what is the truth.”

Lisa didn’t respond.

“Jungkook knows.” She said finally, “ I told him… the truth. When we were in Japan.” and I laughed in disbelief.

“Was that before or after you kissed him?” I snapped and she looked genuinely pained.

“Leah, I never meant to hurt you or Jungkook.” She said shakily.

“My God.” I shook my head. “ I always knew you were a selfish, greedy person but I didn’t take you for being a liar and a deceitful coward. ”

She stared down at her feet.

“Yes. I’m greedy..” She whispered “ And you may not understand it now but I did it for you and for Jungkook.”

She moved away and I watched as Jihyun pulled away from Jungkook, still holding his arm as he held a hand out to Lisa. The smile on her face seemed genuine as she took her husband’s hand and I shifted my gaze to mine. Jihyun and Lisa walked away to their car and Jungkook stepped closer to me, his face stoic and impossible to read.

“Leah.” He said quietly, dark hair falling into even darker eyes.

I didn’t reply, merely stepping up to gently press my palms on either side of his face.

“Welcome back.” I said softly, before reaching up and kissing him full on the lips. Jungkook’s entire body went stiff as a board at the gesture but he didn’t pull away , thankfully. It felt cold and impersonal and barely lasted a few seconds but hopefully the man had gotten a few good shots. I closed my eyes for effect, running my thumb over the clean shaven curve of his jaw, before pulling away slowly.

I peered over Jungkook’s shoulder, just to make sure and sure enough, the man was moving closer to get better angles. I smiled a little. Good. That should hold these vultures off for a while. I turned back to Jungkook and his eyes followed my gaze catching sight of the man with the camera and his entire body seemed to go stiff with anger.

“Why did you do that?” He growled and I bit my lips.

“You know why.” I made to turn away but he gripped my arm, hard. So hard that I winced.

“What are you doing?” I asked panicking, glancing at the man who was still watching.

“Since when did you start pandering to those pigs?” He whispered angrily and I flinched.

“Your father wants to introduce you to the Board of directors this weekend.” I whispered quietly, “Most of them read the news Jungkook. The last news about us can’t be about you cheating on me.”

“That’s my business. And I’ll deal with it. We’re not doing this, Leah. I’m not putting on some kind of act just to please my fucking father.” He looked furious and the taut line of his jaw made me flinch.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, guilt churning inside me. He was right. I shouldn’t have done that without talking to him about it but I knew that the scandal with him and Lisa wouldn’t go down well with the Board. And the Board generally had a direct say on who got hired to top managerial positions.

“I just want you to get that job.” I said softly and he stared at me, stiff body relaxing marginally.

“Let’s just go home. Yeah?” Jungkook said tiredly and I bit my lips.

Less than fifteen minutes since he came home and we were already at odds with each other.

The most ill suited couple in the universe, I thought with a grimace as he stepped right next to me and wrapped a hand around my waist.

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

I had a very terrible tendency to forget taking my pills. So I generally left them by the bedside table. Stepping out of the shower, I found Jungkook sitting on my side of the bed, examining the bottle carefully. I tugged on the white t shirt I had on, suddenly embarrassed because it was Jungkook’s

I’d asked to borrow a couple over the phone, simply because I no longer fit into my own and the ones I’d ordered weren’t here yet. Jungkook had agreed but still, it felt awkward when he was wearing the exact same t shirt himself.

He turned around when I moved to the vanity to put on moisturizer for the night and through the reflection I saw his gaze linger on my attire.

“Aspirin? Didn’t know that was part of pre natal vitamins?” He said seriously and I blinked., surprised. I turned around to stare at him, licking my lips nervously.

“How much research did you do?” I asked, genuinely curious and he flushed.

“I had a lot of free time. “ He said defensively. “ These six weeks.”

I frowned, before turning back to grab the small pot of night cream from the draw.

“My blood pressure is a little elevated. My mother had pre eclampsia with my sister and they just want to be careful.”

“Pre eclampsia?” Jungkook’s voice was fraught with nervousness and I turned back to see him almost white as a sheet.

“Jungkook…I.. its nothing serious.” I said hastily and his jaw went even more taut.

“What do you mean its not serious? Do you even know what it is?” He demanded.

“Do you?” I snapped back, annoyed at being treated like I was an errant child.

“I know that it’s the leading cause of maternal death during birth.” He all but shouted and I flinched.

“Okay…that’s only in extreme cases.” I held both my hands up. “ it’s a bit too premature to be panicking over that.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, as though to argue but then seemed to calm himself down.

“When’s your next check up?” He asked casually.

“This weekend. But its okay, Namjoon is-“

“I’ll come with you. I.. I want to come with you.” He said quietly.

I stared at him, feeling too awkward to outright refuse.

“You have the meeting with the Board. This weekend.” I said softly.

“So?” Jungkook shrugged. “ I’ll just tell them your appointment and health is more important to me. Besides isn’t that what you wanted? The reason you kissed me at the airport? You want the board to think we’re happily in love. I think that would be an excellent way to show them that. ”

Jungkook stared at me , head tilted curiously, daring me to deny what I had old him myself.

Sighing, I nodded.

“Alright.” I managed a weak smile. “ You can come with me.”

“Namjoon hyung left today, you said?” He asked casually.

I nodded.

“I should send him a bottle of his favorite wine for taking care of you so well. You look good.”

“He did it because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it.” I retorted, his words rubbing me just a little wrong.

Jungkook smiled although it was more of a smirk.

“I’m sure he did. But I’m here now. And I did promise you that I’ll be there for you.”

“For the baby.” I said sharply, not liking the way he looked. The things he seemed to b implying.” You promised me you’d be there for the baby.”

“And right now, said baby is inside you.” He grinned now and I felt my pulse quicken at the sight. Jungkook didn’t smile with me. It wasn’t something that happened. At all. “ So I’ll have to take care of you.”

I stared at him, biting my lips.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “My sister told you she never wanted you so now you want to start fucking me again?”

It was cruel. A terrible thing to say and I regretted it at once.

The smile faded.

“What?”

“ I…fuck Jungkook.” I groaned.

“is that what you think of me? Need I remind you that you were the one who came to me all those months ago? I never…. I would never force myself on you, Leah.” He looked like he’d been stabbed and I heart clenched.

“Jungkook , I…”

“I’ve been honest. Through all of this I’ve been honest to you. I lied to your sister, I lied to my father and fuck I even lied to myself. But I’ve been honest with you , Leah.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?!” I cried out, despairing. “ You were in love with my sister and –“

“And she wanted to marry my brother.” Jungkook yelled, standing up and turning to me, eyes blazing. “ All along. Know what she told me Leah? That it was never supposed to be me. That five years of us being together…it was because she was in love with my brother and she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. She started dating me to make him jealous and when she saw that I spent so much time with Jihyun she stuck around . So she could spend time with him.” He shook his head.

I stared at him, horrified.

“Jungkook….”

“I thought I could never feel more pathetic than when I stood there listening her tel me how she never felt a single thing for me. But wow…. Thank you for proving me wrong. Because right now, standing here begging you to let me a part of the child we both made knowing you only see me as some kind of pervert just looking to get into your bed….” he shook his head,” I feel worse. I feel dirty.”

My throat went dry.

“You know what?” He moved to the closet and to my horror he grabbed a bunch of his clothes and a small suitcase. “ I’m going to go get a Hotel room.”

“What? No… Jungkook, wait!” I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm but he threw my hand off quickly.

“Ask Namjoon hyung to move back in. Better yet, tell dad the truth. That you think I’m disgusting. That the thought of me being in your life makes you sick. Tell him you want a divorce and-“

“It’s a girl.” I exhaled sharply.

Jungkook went completely still.

I swallowed, my heart racing so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.

I took a deep breath and moved to lightly touch his back, fingers splaying on the broad expanse of his shoulder blade .

He turned around at that and my heart lurched at the tear tracks down his cheeks. He looked wrecked.

“ A girl?” He whispered.

I bit my lips, nodding.

“We’re having a little girl.” He looked a little shell shocked.

“Yes. And hopefully, she isn’t as dramatic as her father.” I said softly, grabbing the dozen or so t shirts he’d pulled out of the closet and pushing them back into the shelves.

Jungkook didn’t protest, still staring into space, probably just taking the news in. I felt awful for one second because I hadn’t even cared all that much when the technician had told me.

I closed the closet door and moved back to the vanity trying to process all that had been said in the last five minutes, only to feel a headache come on. I would think about it tomorrow.

I finished braiding my hair when Jungkook’s voice came from the bed.

“If you don’t want me to intrude into your space you can tell me. I’m okay with only getting information about the baby.” He said quietly.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I turned to him slowly. i took a deep breath, considered that what i was going to say would likely change everything between us. But i had to.

I’ve always been honest with you Leah, He had said and I decided that perhaps he deserved some honesty in return.

“I think I’m in love with Namjoon.”

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

Author’s Note : these two are such a mess istg.

ooh i don’t have a taglist for this so please comment if you wanna be on it.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fics #bts smut fics #bts smut #jungkook arranged marriage #bts arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #bts smut fic #bts fics

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