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[mylittleredgirl]

buckle up folks, it's deep dive about chakotay hours!

season 2, "initiations"

@isthereintruthnobeauty1968 asked a question about chakotay in this post about the scene above:

for an infamous leader of an anti-federation rebel group he seems to firmly believe in its authority and ideals And to have (at least externally) adjusted to the blended crew seamlessly. what's the deal?

see, i don't think chakotay ever wanted to be a rebel, or even a leader for that matter.

he wanted to be a starfleet officer.

season 2, "tattoo"

chakotay enrolls in the acadamy as a teenager as young as he legally can ("tattoo"). he tells seven ("one small step") that he joined starfleet because of his love of paleontology, and he only turned away from that out of responsibility to the maquis and now to voyager.

[get a snack for this one y'all]

season 6, "one small step"

it doesn't come up often, but whenever chakotay talks about his pre-voyager starfleet career, it's always about first contact or archaeology. in "emanations," he compares their exploration of an alien burial moon to a mission he went on as an ensign, all while demonstrating his anthropology expertise. add that to him nerding out in "blink of an eye," "one small step," the dinosaur episode, and a bunch of other examples, he's a social scientist both by training and by inclination.

in the original star trek, they had an "A&A officer," a specialist in archaeology, anthropology, and ancient civilizations:

tos season 2, "who mourns for adonais?"

we never hear that term again, but that's the role chakotay often fills on voyager, and he's very happy whenever he gets to do it.

now, realistically, i don't know how much time pre-maquis chakotay would have spent in a blue uniform, because those skills would not make him an obvious choice to lead a maquis cell. ro laren sets up his character (unnamed) in tng as a tactical specialist who resigns to join the maquis:

tng season 7, "preemptive strike"

(which is a very polite and noble way to do it, as compared to eddington's defection in ds9.)

if he was in fact ro’s teacher (i think so, despite a stardate conflict in some later dialogue), it seems very in-character to me that chakotay could have started out pursuing a sciences path before showing an aptitude for piloting, strategy, and/or command. given what we know of him, regardless of his own passions or preferences, if a senior officer noticed his skills and encouraged him to change career tracks, he would do it.

teen angst era aside, he respects authority. he argues against dogmatic ideology when it's inflexible to the needs of the moment, but he likes working within a command hierarchy, and for better or worse, he is easily swayed by charismatic leaders.

season 1, "caretaker"

not only does he yield to janeway's authority on voyager before she even asks him to, and then molds himself into the kind of first officer he thinks will help her most, he does the same thing with annorax in "year of hell." tom is the voice of ethical conscience and reason in that episode, and he organizes the rebellion—against chakotay's orders!

there's so much going on here:

season 4, "year of hell part 2"

despite his father's perceptions of him as a contrarian, chakotay only rebels as a last resort. he would genuinely rather not. he clearly talked about the maquis cause with ro and others before he left—and i bet that's why he resigned to a starfleet admiral in person, to make one last appeal. his preference is to try and change systems from within.

not to west wing about it, but chakotay is only The Guy when he has to be—he wants to be the guy the guy counts on.

(hot take: with how he rationalizes the calculated sacrifices annorax is making in "year of hell," i don't think chakotay would have left starfleet for the maquis if it wasn't personal. but it was personal, so here we are!)

maquis chakotay is a disillusioned idealist, but he's never that disillusioned. he believes in the stated ideals of the federation, sometimes more than janeway does.

season 3, "scorpion part 1"

and it's a fundamental character trait that he looks for the best in people and situations, often to his own detriment (tuvok, seska, annorax, that time janeway and tuvok and tom all lie to him for half a season, the list goes on).

and it's easy to see good in starfleet, especially when most of his career was during the height of federation utopia before "the best of both worlds," at which point starfleet remembered it's also a defensive force and started building the defiant—which was the very first starfleet ship ever designed solely for combat.

the cardassian situation in tng is shown as an aberration in a largely peaceful era. the off-screen "border wars" were fought by officers who expected to go their entire careers never firing a phaser.

tng season 4, "the wounded"

for decades since making peace with the klingons, and with the romulans keeping to themselves, starfleet has been mostly goodhearted nerds who are committed to exploring and making friends. even if chakotay was a tactical officer, that was the starfleet he signed up for and served.

and, in fact, the reason why the federation abandoned the colonists in the dmz in the first place and wouldn’t help bajor during the cardassian occupation is because the federation and starfleet are devoted to the ideals of peace and noninterference to a fault.

tng season 5, "ensign ro"

chakotay doesn't object to starfleet's actions, but its inaction.

which, side note, is why janeway's choice in "caretaker" makes it easy for him to rally behind her. by choosing to protect the ocampa, even though it's a huge sacrifice and puts her in a prime directive gray area, janeway specifically addressed the exact trust gap he has with starfleet.

season 1, "caretaker"

that's what he wanted them to do back home!

chakotay defends his starfleet uniform in the kazon scene that inspired this whole essay, and he believes what he's saying, because he's right: that's not what a starfleet uniform represents, either in theory or in practice. especially in the mid-24th century, regardless of the political issues, the federation and starfleet do not conquer planets or enslave alien cultures by force.

(of course, they wouldn't have helped the kazon free themselves either, but that's not the question on the table.)

to op's main question: it's an interesting (or boring?) doylist choice to make chakotay such a platonic ideal of a Starfleet Officer™️ (which, for the record, has always included going off-leash at the expense of one's career whenever ethics overwhelm regulations).

season 1, "prime factors"

star trek went to a lot of trouble to create the maquis for the voyager premise of two crews... and then quickly brady-bunch'd them into one happy family and let deep space nine wrangle the maquis problem instead. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

chakotay being so willing to put himself and his crew into starfleet uniforms (even though some members of both crews objected to it) cheated us out of some potentially rich drama, but it does hold water with what we see of him as a character on screen, and his relationship with starfleet. it has disappointed him, but he still believes that it's a force for good, and chakotay will always err on the side of seeing the good in something and thinking he can change it for the better from within.

--

tl;dr: chakotay is a starfleet officer by training and at heart, who was temporarily out of uniform because his family and tribe happened to be directly in the middle of starfleet's messiest ethical quagmire.

he made a personal, moral decision to join the maquis, not because he was anti-federation, but because that was the only way to protect federation civilians—which was part of his starfleet oath to begin with. he worked hard when he was younger to earn this uniform and i think, in spite of everything, he feels honestly proud to get to wear it again.

[etherfabric]

Messages from Your Protector

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

Pile 1

The Fool, The Moon rx

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Oh my dear. I see how scared you are. I know this is nothing like anything before. But somehow also exactly like the thing you were running from your whole life. I know how unclear everything seems. How uncertain. You don't dare to move one inch.

Let me tell you now: The inch is enough. And you can take all the time you need. You can't see that from where you are, but from where I am, I can tell that time isn't important. Not at all. It doesn't make sense to you, nothing lately really does. All you had was your mind to rely on, and it's slipping away from you in ways you tried to avoid your whole life. They called you crazy, a liar, a drama queen. So you swore to always pay attention to the exterior, and only stick to the hard facts, to never be accused of that again.

And now suddenly everything turns to smoke. Nothing solid, no foundation to lean on, no former structure you recognize.

You might feel doomed, cursed, imprisoned. Imprisoned in something only you can see and feel, and not even those sensory informations seems reliable. Let me tell you, my precious lightbeam: This is your initiation. It is not for nothing. Far from it.

Not everyone is called to do this, and those who are, rarely feel "good" (in the former sense of the word) during it. It's one of the highest gifts the Universe can bestow upon you, but the process of shedding and rebuilding has phases of liminality that can't be skipped. You ask why this is happening? So you have only one thing left to use and turn to, so it becomes stronger than ever: Your faith. That crazy, invisible, unprovable thing you felt your whole life and ran from. Now it's your last resort. It seems cruel, but once you allow yourself to fully embrace it, be assured, we will bathe you in light and miracles that will carry you across this abyss. Just ask. Invite us, and we will come. The famous leap of faith is your only means of transportation right now, so to speak.

We love you so, so much. And honestly, you are doing amazing already. On our plane, your light is shining brighter than ever. We were never this close to you, and we love it. We know it doesn't feel this way all the time for you, but please listen to your intuition more. It's there to help you, not harm you. Those that judged you anytime you acted upon it are on their own, separate path. Don't let them sway you. Deep inside, you know it's something big and important, what is happening right now. You are doing amazing. We love you so much. I can't say it enough. You will get through this and be thankful. Later. Maybe you can find a smidge of that gratitude now. When you let your true opinion arise within, and dare to listen.

Pile 2

7 of Pentacles rx, 10 of Pentacles

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It's already done. The seeds are planted. This is a time of winding down, breathing in what you already have, let it enrich and nourish you. No one will come and take it away, claiming you are "too lazy" or "ungrateful" to "deserve it". Who told you this? Don't you know they were talking to themselves? To their own shadow, which they cast upon you, to not be blinded by your light? My dearest soul star. Can't you feel it, behind the worry and fear, underneath it all - the hum of completion? It surrounds you, it permeates the space between your atoms, it carries you across this cosmos.

Just imagine this gigantic planet you sit upon, its own attraction to you keeping you grounded. You belong here. You deserve everything that Life gave you. You deserve everything you worked for, and also everything you never worked for and just have, AND you deserve everything that is to come. Oh, there is a lot to come. So many blessings. You don't know even half if it yet. And that's exactly how it's supposed to be.

We don't want you to be exhausted from worry when we bring it to you. We want you to be soft and open, so it can touch your inner being - the only place where true satisfaction can take place. Look around you. The room you are in, or the environment you reside in for now. All this exists at the same time as you. Isn't that proof enough? Who else should it be for? Dare to connect to it, through whatever means sound right. Dare to delve into it. Dare to lay your hands on it, smell it, taste it, observe it, hear it. Draw pictures of it, in your mind, on a canvas, in the dirt on the ground. You are a part of all of it. You are part of the world to everyone else!

The time it takes to get you there is meant for you to enjoy what you have so far. Things will change, and the present will be another shape than the current one. So enjoy it while it lasts, until the upgrade arrives. Remember how desperate the past version of you was for so many of these circumstances? Get back in touch with them to feel their bliss and satisfaction. They are always there to help you. All the versions of you, past, present and future. They all love you in their own way, and they all are connected to you and bring their talents and wisdom as soon as you let them speak. This can be in a dream, a song, a memory, a word you read somewhere that tugs at you. Maybe a smell, or a name. Follow the thread, make space for the unraveling, and be assured we are always protecting you from what could truly be harmful. Nothing you can't take.

Admittedly, our relationship to pain is a rather abstract one compared to your incarnated self - so apologies for sounding aloof - but it carries deep truths, and is never the whole story. Promised. It will pass. You are doing so well. We love you so much more than you can imagine. For now. Soon, you will have a better idea. If you ever need our help, just call us. However feels most authentic. A thought is enough. Then listen for our signs, and dare to believe them, just like we believe in you.

Pile 3

The Star, Knight of Wands

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We are sending you support on all dimensions. You won't see it coming. It won't look like it moments before the event (or several events...) and you will be close to giving up on hope. The rhythm of the recent days was just the "right" wrong mixture of stagnation and overwhelming, sudden changes, and you are exhausted. You have lost things that you held very, very close to your heart, and you thought they belonged to your destiny.

Memories, associations, dreams, fragments of what is lost haunt you, and you try so desperately to make it fit into the picture. Sure this mean it will come back...? Well. Yes and No. Yes on the spiritual, emotional, ethereal plane - what you felt with them is just an appetizer compared to what's to come. It's a manifestation upgraded tenfold. But no, it won't be them exactly. I am so sorry for your pain - but I am not sorry for the context in which this loss happened, because I see the purpose it serves clear as day. You have to wait and see for it to unfold before your very eyes (at least the first two of them), and many fears and worries birthed from past disappointments will pop up.

Don't read those as prophecies - they are asking to be purged! So the canvas is clear for your upcoming masterpiece. It will happen at just the right time. It's not going anywhere. It is yours, and it will wait until you are ready. Promised. Your pace is just the right pace. Listen to your emotions, as untamable they might seem at times. Learn to dance with them, instead of fighting against them, and be it just one intentional second for starters. Your limits are there for a reason, and no one wants you to hurt yourself unnecessarily in the process. You deserve the reassurance and patience you need, and we hold that frequency towards you all the time.

There are judgements from people from your past still attached to what you deem true, and to which you assigned great meaning and weight in how you should be treated by the Universe, and all the people in it. You don't dare to go near them - they bite back. Like a wounded animal. Let's see how gentle you can go with them. We assure you, they will calm down as soon as they know you mean no harm. As soon as they feel you have the same patience and reassurance avaible for them you deserve. Watch the alchemy unfold, and bask in your accomplishments. This is the stuff transformation is made of. We are so freaking proud of you!

Pile 4

The Hermit, The Moon

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What you bring to the world is something not many will understand. We see your dedication, and be assured, you are on the path that was agreed upon before you came here. The unfolding of your inner voice is a marvelous endeavor without any witnesses, just yours to experience. You have never been so lonely and so rich in your whole life. And this is just the beginning.

We protect you from the harm that could sway you, but not the harm that can teach you. There are people around you who are blind to the light within, even scared when it shows up. They don't know what it means, at least not from their limited perspective they deem the whole truth. We see you trying to extend a helping hand, but this is our influence when they don't take it. You need all this energy for the next phase of transformation.

Your discipline and strategy so far has served you well, and we command you for your endurance. This is a whole new game, and you play it quite well. But be warned - this won't last forever. You might dream about what soon will finally be, to exchange it for what is right now. You will miss this once it's over. Not because the future is so grim - on the contrary. But because the beauty of inner transformation is not a constant or easily accessible one, and you either pay close attention to decipher the music in it now, or you will only have the tinted glass of nostalgia as a way back to it. What seems like a chore now will soon be the holder of self love when you look back on it. This might mean nothing to you, or even come across as accusatory, or threatening even.

We never mean harm. We are light. We are love. Just like you. What we want to invite you to is daring to be grateful to be you right now. This version of you won't last forever, so why not love it? Just for what it is?

That is why we send you this tsunami of solitude. So you and you can finally get a room and connect. Look each other in the eyes, deeply. And see how you are just perfect for each other, and exactly what you need and want. After all, this is what you chose. This is exactly your style. And it suits you so, so well.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 7

Source for pic

Trouble 7

Word Count: 4814

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I told you guys this was going to get worse... and believe me or not... it STILL gets worse. Also, mind the red tag, above, please.

Masterlist

The police. 

You need to tell someone, and the police are the obvious choice. You've been tossing and turning in your bed for over an hour, and this is the smartest, simplest answer. 

Zoro is unreachable for a week, so the next best option will have to do. 

You remember your ex, Ichiji, once had a problem with a girl who loved and followed the Vinsmoke siblings everywhere. She was obsessed with the whole family, but mostly Ichiji, since he's the eldest. She resorted to possessive letters and creepy calls, and you've been trying to rack your brain as to how he dealt with the problem. You're almost positive he went to the police. 

And they couldn't help. 

That was when he hired the bodyguards. 

Maybe they took care of the problem? 

A shudder that has nothing to do with the cold travels through your body. Anyway they dealt with it, you don't have the resources to do the same. And Ichiji's bodyguards were real beasts: massive, bulky, scary. They were elite, all-stars. 

You don't have anyone like that to look out for you. 

Lies. 

You have Zoro. But you'll have to be very careful about how you'll tell him once he gets back. And even though the police did nothing to help with your ex’s problem, that doesn't mean they won't help now. 

Oh! 

You still have the picture he sent you of Rob Lucci, that has to get them to act! 

You sit upright in your bed and grab your phone. It's been muted and silent since you retired to your bedroom after closing all the doors and windows, including the door to your room. 

You left the light in your bedroom on anyway, too scared of invisible shadows, too frightened of unseen ghosts.

Obviously, there are texts waiting for you. You knew that, and that's why the phone was silenced. The dread in your stomach seems like it has come to stay, but it still manages to increase as you read the texts. 

Unknown: How are you feeling, Kitten? You barely ate dinner. You need to eat.  Unknown: Tucking into bed already? Don't be scared. You're safe. No one will harm you.  Unknown: You're mine. 

You don't know who it is, but that doesn't mean your mind doesn't conjure up the scariest, raspiest voice to go with the possessive texts. With a heavy sigh, you swipe the texts aside and search for the picture. 

It's gone. 

Just like that. 

You know you deleted some texts when you first started to receive them, but you didn't delete the picture, no matter how ghastly it was. But it's gone. 

With a shaky inhale, you return the silenced phone, face down, to your bedside table and curl up on your bed, comforter tucked high against your chin. You'll still go to the police. You have to tell someone. 

A creak of the old house brings desperate tears to your eyes and you stifle a sob. You don't dare turn off the light and you know sleep will elude you tonight. 

God, you miss Zoro. 

And he's barely been gone a day. 

-*-

Sometime during the night, you must've fallen asleep from exhaustion because the sound of the rooster’s call jolts you awake with a surprised gasp. 

Daylight seeps through the closed curtains, and you will your heart to steady to a normal beat. Nothing bad happened, you're safe, you're alone in your room. You're fine. 

Everything's fine. 

You refrain from grabbing your phone, trying to prolong the moment you’ll have to face the creepy texts, perhaps even new texts waiting for you, and instead head to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready to face a new day.

Your eyes are baggy and darkened, likely because you only slept two or three hours. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you lay down your plans for the day: feed the animals and do the morning chores, then head to the police station and tell the cops about what’s going on. 

They will have to help you. And even if they don’t do much, at least you won’t feel so alone. 

As you finally gather some courage to grab your phone, a shaky laugh escapes your lips: there’s nothing new. No new text, no new photo, nothing. You were suffering from anticipation without any cause to do so. So, you take the phone off silent mode and stuff it in your pocket. 

The day already seems lighter and brighter. Perhaps you won’t even need to go to the police.

Grabbing a quick breakfast, you open the door, still chewing on your apple, ready to face the day. You don’t find it unusual that there are hardly any birds singing. 

Though you should’ve.

Because as soon as you open the door, you’re assaulted by a foul smell. The apple you are holding rolls in your hand and falls to the floor with a thud. Blood. There’s so much blood. 

Nausea turns your legs to jelly, and you grip the handle of the door tightly as your eyes widen and sweep the scene. There are countless dead birds, squirrels, rats, and even cockroaches. They’re scattered across your porch and thrown carelessly over the railing and the porch chairs. Blood is smeared and pooled everywhere, and the smell of rot and decay makes your eyes tear up.

You gag and fight for your breakfast to remain inside your stomach as your hand flies to cover your mouth. What could this mean?

Then, from the corner of your eye, you find your answer: there’s a cat - its fur an oddly close resemblance to the colour of your hair - dead, lifeless, gutted, and covered in blood, pinned to your door. The note attached to the poor animal is written in crimson words, and the message is clear as day:

Don’t tell anyone, Kitten.

You’re powerless to stop the retches and heaves as you fall to your knees. 

-*-

After what you found on your porch in the morning, you lock yourself in the house again. With the windows locked and the curtains closed, you curl into a small ball on the couch, put on your headphones, and will yourself to just disappear. 

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

But he doesn’t leave you alone.

Unknown: I love seeing you scared, Kitten. The way your big, bright eyes widen. The way your chest heaves. Unknown: You’re so beautiful. Unknown: I hope you understood my message, darling. Don’t tell anyone.  Unknown: Not. A. Soul. Unknown: Or next time, it won’t be animals…

More threats. More possessive words. More praise.

The tears keep falling from your eyes, and you feel trapped and utterly alone. How did this happen to you? Who could this person be? He’s a man - you can tell because of the hand that was holding Rob Lucci’s eyes in the photo. That much is clear. 

But who?

Who would want to hurt you? Who would want to scare you?

Unknown: You don’t need to be afraid of me, Kitten. I won’t hurt you. Not you, never you. Unknown: I think your dad’s animals might be hungry.  Unknown: Are you going to be cooped up inside all day? Do you need me to feed them?

What? How sick is he? How can he say this? Is he close? How close?

A whimper escapes your lips as you clutch your face in your hands, shaking your head and shutting your eyes shut. 

He’s right, though. You need to feed the animals. You’ve been inside the house for around four hours already. The animals must be starving.

It takes you about fifteen minutes to gather the strength and courage to face the slaughter on your porch and then another five minutes to gather a trash bag and gloves. Then it’s with heavy breaths that you place your shaky hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly, your eyes still closed. 

The smell is still overwhelming, but it’s not as bad as you thought it would be after the dead animals were left rotting in the sun for hours. With another shaky breath, you finally open your eyes.

There’s nothing there.

No animals. No blood. No note or cat pinned to the door.

For a fleeting second, you think you’re going crazy. You have to be. But then your eyes fall back on the door. Your nails scrape gently against the dark wood: there’s a mark where the knife was pinning the cat and the note. 

You didn’t dream it, you didn’t imagine things. It happened.

And he cleaned it all up.

What is going on? Why is he playing these mind games with you?

Suddenly, you hear a distant noise coming from the treeline, just beyond the barn. Your blood runs cold, and a shiver filled with dread makes you tremble. With a shaky step forward you grip the railing, straining your eyes against the brightness of the day to try to discern if there’s something lurking there. 

Your breathing slows down, and your knuckles turn white with the force you’re clutching the railing. Dread rises from somewhere in the pit of your stomach and settles right in your chest.

There’s definitely something - someone? - there. And it looks big. Massive, even. 

The shadow moves forward, and you gasp at the same time your phone begins to ring. A scream climbs up your throat, and you stumble backwards, fumbling with your pockets to fish out the blaring phone. 

Nami.

You pick up shakily, your eyes already moving back to the place where the shadow had been. “Y-yeah?”  

“Hi!” Nami’s voice is bright, she might not have noticed the strain in yours. Your left hand grips the railing again as your eyes dart left and right. Nothing. “How are you, honey? Are you feeling lonely now that your broody cop left for the week?” She giggles, and you force out a shaky, fake laugh. Nothing! “I thought you might want some company. Want me to come over?”

Nothing at all.

Fear grips you again, and you stumble backwards, closing the door with force and leaning against it with heavy breaths. “Come over?” Breathe. Just breathe. There’s no way in hell you’re going to tell Nami to come over. No matter how much you want her company, how alone you feel, or how much comfort you seek. You won’t risk her getting trapped in this person’s web. “Sorry, Nami. I can’t today. Maybe another time?”

She groans on the other side of the line as you move to the window, your eyes scanning the trees again. “Fineee! I was just postponing some boring house chores anyway. I’ve been procrastinating since the weekend.” She giggles. “Talk soon, then?”

You let out a noncommittal noise, and silence fills the line. “Are you okay?” She asks, worry lacing her voice. Calm down! You try to force some semblance of control back into your voice. Nami always sees right through your bullshit, so you need to be a good liar. Just this once. One time.

“Of course I am! I’m just sooo tired! Ace couldn’t help me today, so I’m tending to all the chores alone. I need rest.” You let out another shaky laugh and hope against all hope she believes you.

There’s still nothing out there. 

“Hmm, okay, okay. I believe that. Farm chores are so tiresome. ‘K, gotta go. Call me later?”

“Sure, Nami. Thanks for checking in.”

She hangs up, and you grip the phone tightly. You could’ve sworn that the shadow was coming for you when you picked up the phone. And that thought alone is enough to make you stay cooped up inside for another hour. 

-*-

You don't quite know how you do it, but you force yourself to tackle your morning chores, even though they’ve now turned into afternoon chores. 

Every little noise, every tiny movement makes you tremble and whimper. Even the cows sense your discomfort, some of the older ones gently bump you as you pet them and whisper soothing words. 

How ironic is it that you're the one in need of soothing, not the cows. 

Somehow, you manage. And as soon as you're done, you rush inside, bolting the door and sighing as you lean against it. You did it. You're safe inside. He can't get in. 

He can't get in. 

You're safe. 

-*-

You take a quick shower and have a meager dinner. You wouldn't be able to eat anything different even if you were hungry. Your fridge and pantry are almost empty. You should've gone grocery shopping yesterday, but the sick cow threw those plans out the window and now the last thing you want to do is leave the safety of your home to buy food supplies. 

You can always survive on nuts and cereal. 

A groan leaves your lips as you finish cleaning the dishes. No, you can't. 

You place the towel on the rack to dry, then halt your movements, tilting your head to the side to listen for any noise. You’ve closed all the curtains, but you still feel watched. It's like someone is creeping in on you, watching every move you make, every sound, every thought. 

Shaking your head, you leave the kitchen, turning off the light and running towards the stairs like a child scared of the dark. Your stomach still rumbles a bit, though you're so nauseated and scared that, even though you're hungry, you know you can't eat anything right now. 

Plus, empty pantry and all that… 

So, tomorrow, grocery shopping will have to be. Get out, buy stuff, get back in. 

How hard can that be? 

-*-

Hard. So very hard. 

Considering you didn't sleep much last night. Maybe an hour, two at most. He kept texting you with praise and soothing words, telling you to turn off the light and rest. But how could you turn off the light when he was watching you, and every shadow felt like it was looming closer? How could you rest when your heart kept pounding with adrenaline? 

You don't know how much longer your body can function without sleep, with barely any food and under constant stress. But the truth is, you can't even bring yourself to worry about those things when the real terror hides behind creepy texts. 

And there are still three more days before Zoro returns. 

Trying to ignore the dread in your stomach or the way your breath leaves your mouth in shaky exhales, you open the front door, bracing yourself for anything. 

But there's nothing. 

A longer and much more relieved exhale empties your lungs, and you feed the animals before rushing to your car. The farm feels eerily silent, as if the animals can sense all the apprehension coursing through you. 

And they probably do. 

You drive a little faster than you should on the way to the store and as you park the car and exit with rushed movements, new texts greet you, and you grimace in consternation 

Unknown: Slow down, Flash. There's no one following you, don't worry. No one will get near you. 

Right. No one but this creep, whoever he is. There's no need to worry at all. 

Fear induces hurry, and you take little care in picking the prettiest vegetables or the plumpest fruits. You just want to grab your essentials, and get out. Rush home, and lock yourself in until Zoro returns and you can find some solace in his arms. 

Is that too much to ask? 

“Well, hello there, gorgeous. I see you're all alone today.”

Oh, no, no, no. 

“Hi, yes, I'm in a hurry, excuse me.” It's the store clerk who flirted with you when you returned. And his advances are especially unwelcome today. Even more so since Zoro isn't around to pretend to be your boyfriend. 

He places an arm on your cart, a cheeky smirk in his lips and you suppress a groan as his hand inches closer to touch yours. “I'll help you. What do you need? Besides my number?” He chuckles and now it's the urge to roll your eyes you suppress. 

You feel a faint vibration in your pocket and push the cart forward as you decide to ignore it. “I really don't need your help, thank you.” 

“Are you sure?” You nod and try to push past him again, but his hand moves, gripping your forearm instead of the cart. “Because I can be very… serviceable.”

Hell, no. 

A loud crash from the next aisle - that sounds like broken jars - echoes through the store, and the clerk groans. “Not the pickles, come on. They stink up the place!” He releases your arm with frustration, and you seize the opportunity to slip away, grab the rest of your essentials, and cash out. 

Your nerves are frayed to the breaking point, and all you want is to curl up and disappear. 

It's not until you finally get home, unload the groceries and lock the door, that you look at the unread texts on your phone. 

Unknown: Who does he think he is?  Unknown: He dares flirt with you? He dares TOUCH you? You're mine!  Unknown: Don't worry, Kitten, I won't let him bother you again. 

No! Oh, no!

A quick online search shows you the phone number of the grocery store and you're fast to dial it, your foot tapping the floor impatiently as guilt gnaws at your insides. 

You can't let anyone else get hurt because of you. It's not fair. Not fair at all. 

Someone picks up at the third ring and it's an older female voice. It's not him. You try your best to describe the clerk you wish to speak to and, thank God it's a small town, because the woman on the line knows who you're talking about and calls him. 

The phone buzzes in your ear and you glance at the text while you're waiting. 

Unknown: How selfless of you, Kitten, trying to save him.  Unknown: You can't, though, you know? 

“Hello?” He sounds pissed. 

“Hi! Oh, thank God. Are you okay?” You collapse into a kitchen chair, your legs wobbly all of a sudden. 

“Who is this?”

“Right! Sorry! Uh… I’m uh… The girl you were talking to earlier? Erm… The one you offered to help?”

He lets out a dry chuckle. “The gorgeous one? Yeah, I remember you. Guess you really needed my number, then.”

Bzzzz.

Unknown: He's gone, Kitten. Might as well say goodbye now. Nobody touches what's mine. 

“Good! Listen, you're in danger.” Your voice falters as you think about how crazy you must sound. How delusional. “I can't tell you much, but someone might try to harm you. Don't ask me how I know, I just do! Please don't leave the store alone! And go to the cops, please!”

There's a moment of silence on the line and you hope he's considering your words, listening to the faint edge of fear on your voice, something that shows him reason. 

“Wow…” He's not convinced. “This has got to be the most elaborate excuse anyone’s used to get me to back off.” He chuckles again, but this time in disbelief. “Listen, I get it, okay? I'll back off. You're not interested. I won't try again.”

“No, no, wait! That's not what I–”

“Don't worry, miss. I got it.” He sighs. “I got to go, some asshole spilled the whole aisle of pickles and that shit’s already spilling to the other aisles. Er… Bye, I guess.”

And he ends the call. You hold the phone to your ear, ignoring the beeping signaling the end of the call. This can't be happening. It can't. Someone will get hurt again because of you. 

You drop the phone, and it slips to the floor with a thud, your fingers threading through your hair and gripping tight. The walls feel closer now, the air thinner. You're alone. You're frightened. You're vulnerable.

And you will be responsible for another terrible crime. 

-*-

The chores that could be postponed, got postponed. Those that couldn't, got done half-heartedly. It will have to do. At least until Zoro comes back and you can rely on him. 

You miss him. You need him. So, so much. 

As per usual, you lock the door tightly and double-check all the other locks on the back doors and windows, though you haven't touched those since this whole ordeal started. Everything's locked, and though apprehension still grips your heart tightly, you feel as safe as you're going to feel for now. 

He won't get into your home. You're safe inside. 

You still rush up the stairs and lock yourself in your bedroom, lights on and covers pulled up to your chin. 

After you've settled, and after you've made sure there's nothing hiding in the shadows or inside your closet, you unlock your phone, skim through the new set of texts: ‘You're mine’, ‘Sleep tight’, ‘Drink water and get some rest’, and then open the website of the local newspaper again, dreading the time when you'll see the store clerk's picture or some reference to him. 

It dawns on you that you don't even know his name. 

And yet, you're going to be the one to blame for whatever gruesome thing that happens to him. Should you go confess to the cops? 

No… You can't. He doesn't let you go to the police, you got that message loud and clear: if you do that, somebody else will get hurt. And maybe next time it could be one of your friends. Or you. 

A shaky inhale leaves your lips as a new set of tears threatens to fall. How do you have more tears to cry? How are you still hanging on? How long will you last without fully breaking? 

-*-

Like all the other nights, you eventually give in to exhaustion and fall asleep for a few hours. Except this time, the events from the day before are still pretty fresh in your mind, so the first thing you do is grab your phone - no new texts. Yet. - and open the newspaper website. 

Nothing. 

A relieved sigh empties your lungs, and you actually manage a small smile. Maybe this person, this stalker, is all bark and no bite. 

Though even as you think this, you know you're wrong. He's very vicious. Rob Lucci, the dead animals… You feel he's capable of terrible things. But maybe, just maybe, this time he was just bluffing. 

Bzzzz. 

No. No. No. 

It's a picture. 

Bzzzz. 

Unknown: I always follow through on my threats, Kitten. 

And then there's an address. 

No. It's your fault again. You know you shouldn't open the picture, you already know it's gruesome, you already know you'll regret it, and yet… 

You still open it. 

The shop clerk is blindfolded and tied up with intricate knots, the rope is binding his chest, his legs, his arms. His face is swollen and barely recognizable. There's blood everywhere. And his hands… They're detached from his body, hanging on his neck like a necklace and holding a paper with a bloody note: Nobody touches what's mine. 

-*-

You used the address to make an anonymous tip to the police. You didn’t even know you could do that online, but apparently, there are specific websites that offer that anonymous service. 

You can’t bear to look at the picture one more time, but you hope he’s still alive. All he did was talk to you. Just like Rob Lucci. 

They aren’t guilty of any other crime. And that’s why you feel so responsible for what happened to them. 

The urge to tell Zoro all that’s been happening is stronger than ever, but then there’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind telling you that if the stalker managed to do this to men who only flirted with you, what could he do to Zoro, someone you’re actually interested in?

You know Zoro is a cop, and you know he can take care of himself, but still… 

You fear for his safety more than you fear your own.

And that is terrifying.

-*-

Shanks called and said he and Beckman are having a wonderful time, and business is blooming. Some of your father’s best horses have already been selected by breeders, so, unfortunately, Shanks is going to have to prolong his stay for at least three more weeks. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him how alone and terrified you felt. So instead, you feigned happiness that all was going well for him and told him he could stay for as long as he wanted because you had everything under control. 

Lies, after lies, after lies. 

The rest of the week passes in a haze. You barely sleep, hardly eat, and are in a constant state of stress and nerves. The only time you leave the house is to feed the animals and clean the stables. And even then, there are times you manage to ask Ace for help, pretending to feel sick. 

The rest of the time is spent curled up, frightened, and being constantly harassed over text by this creep.

You’ve been wracking your brain as to who he is, but you have no idea. Absolutely no idea. And the fact that he could be some random person might even be scarier than if he were someone you know. 

Friday finally arrives, and as you down your third mug of coffee of the morning, sitting iyour couch, your phone rings. And this time you’re actually happy to see the name on the screen.

It’s Zoro.

But as you’re about to answer, the call disconnects suddenly. Did he hang up?

Bzzzz.

No. He didn’t. 

Unknown: Remember, Kitten, don’t tell him anything. You don’t want to see the cop pinned to your door next, do you?

Zoro calls again, and once more, the call dies before you pick it up. 

Unknown: You know by now that I don’t make idle threats. You do not want to see me mad, Kitten. I don’t want to hurt your friends because I don’t want to see you sad, but I will hurt him. 

Zoro calls again, and still you have no time to answer. 

“Shit!” You almost sob. “I won’t tell him anything… I won’t…” You mutter to yourself, tears already gathering at the corner of your eyes as the feeling of being trapped and alone overpowers you. 

This time, when Zoro tries again, you manage to pick up. 

“Hey, Troublemaker! What the hell is wrong with that damned phone?”

God, oh God, you missed him so much. His strong voice, his confident demeanour, the way that just hearing him speak to you makes you feel instantly safer.

It’s too much.

Too much.

You try to keep the tears and the sobs at bay, but you can’t. “Zo…” You sniffle, and it’s clear that he immediately stands at attention on the other side of the line.

“What’s wrong, Trouble? Talk to me. I’m still heading home, I’m about two hours away. What’s wrong?”

Bzzzz.

Unknown: Kitten… don’t disappoint me. 

“Nothing!” A wet, shaky laugh climbs up your throat, and you bring your knees to your chest, trying to feel smaller. “I’ve just been feeling lonely this week. Nami and Robin have been busy, I don’t want to bother Kaya and Usopp. Luffy is busy at the fire station, and… and… I’ve missed you so, so much… I’m such a crybaby, I’m sorry.”

Is this enough?

Silence stretches, and all that you hear on the other line is the sound of cars and chatter from his coworkers. “I’ve missed you too, Trouble.” At least his worry is hidden behind a semblance of softness. It might’ve been enough. “Are you sure that’s it?”

Another excuse, quick.

“Yeah… I mean, my dad just called saying he has to be away for more weeks than he initially thought, I guess that I also miss him…”

Zoro chuckles softly, and you sigh in relief. 

“You’re an emotional mess today, Trouble.”

You laugh softly and sniff, your hand cleaning the remnants of your tears from your cheeks. 

“I guess I am.”

“Well, Nami texted me earlier, saying the gang’s going to meet at Robin’s. Are you coming?”

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. You don’t want to put any of them in danger, but you don’t think you can spend more time alone inside a locked house. You need your friends, you need Zoro…

“Yeah, I guess.”

“See you soon, then?”

You hum, and before you can say anything else, the call ends again. Did he hang up? Was it the service? Or… maybe you should think about changing phones…

Bzzzz.

Unknown: Such a good girl, Kitten. I knew you could do it.  Unknown: I hope you think of me at the gathering later. I do want you to have fun, you know? But remember…  Unknown: Behave, Kitten. You do not want to see me angry. I don’t want to have to punish you.

Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000

|Chapter 8|

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie living together in their first apartment in LA. Its the 90’s its a heatwave in the 100’s everyday. The power grid is overwhelmed so the city has resorted to rolling blackouts.

It was Friday which meant it was their neighbourhood tonight. After work Steve stopped at the store and got beer, candles, and pizza to prepare for the night. He was meeting Eddie at home and they would have an hour before the lights were out.

“Hey baby I’m home.” Steve called as he slammed the door shut behind him.

“God its hot as balls Stevie.” Eddie yelled back dramatically from the kitchen. He made his way over and draped himself against the doorframe as he watched Steve kick his shoes off with a huff, his arms full of groceries.

“Oh hi Stevie love of my life who got me booze and dinner, how was your day? Oh sure of course i’ll help you,” Steve mumbled to himself giving Eddie a side eye and a hip bump as he made his way into the kitchen with the groceries.

Eddie followed closely behind him pulling him in close despite the heat and sweat on both of them, “Hello Sweetheart how are you? I love you. Thank you for the groceries.” He mumbled into the back of Steve’s sweaty neck.

Steve broke easily, turning around into Eddie’s grip after only an eye-roll. He leaned in and accepted his expected kiss unable to stop the smile that spread across his lips. “Your hair is cute.” He said as he pulled back resting against the counter.

“Why thank you hair professional Stevie darling.” Eddie batted his eyelashes and twirled a stray curl that had fallen out of the messy bun on his head.

Steve scoffed and pushed a hand against his face breaking free of his hold and going back to unloading groceries. “We should have a cold shower before we loose power. Then I was thinking we could go on the roof and look at the stars later.” He said it casually but Eddie saw the way Steve’s eyes nervously looked back at him over his shoulder.

“That sounds perfect, we can even bring the portable radio up with us I just stole new batteries from the store.” Eddie gravitated back into Steve’s space. “And Claudia just sent us that outdoor blanket she made.” His fingers danced up and down Steve’s waist.

“How romantic of you.” Steve teased, trying to squirm away when Eddie pinched his hip.

“You pretend to hate it but I know you are a hopeless romantic lover boy Stevie.” Eddie’s hand slid forward and pushed Steve’s hips back against his own. “I’ll always give you what you want though, because I love you so much.”

Steve was speechless at the sincerity of Eddie’s words. He instead turned around and kissed Eddie in a way he hoped showed how much he loved him.

After they parted ways, Eddie took over in the kitchen to put away groceries and assemble their meal while Steve showered first. Once finished he decided to set up outside, dragging out the aforementioned outdoor blankets, portable radio and of course food. Once all was said and done he checked his watch: 7 minutes until the power cut. He listened and heard Steve humming to himself in the bathroom, so he lit a path of candles to the roof because he was romantic like that.

“Hello Romeo” Steve greeted him on the roof, 10 minutes later beers in hand. The cool bottles were already dripping from the heat, Steve wiped the excess water on the back of his neck.

“Hello sweet steviette, you look so beautiful under this warm eve’s moonlight.” Eddie crooned back, draping himself out dramatically and reaching a hand to Steve. He smiled at his boyfriend’s eye-roll and took the beers from his hands.

“Thank you nerd,” Steve said with an edge of sweetness to his voice, still leaning over into Eddie’s space for a quick peck,

They ate after that, both ravenous after their long days at work. It was a comfortable silence they sat in, so close their thighs touched. Eddie silently handed his crusts over to Steve and and Steve popped the top off another beer for him. And when they finished they lay together on their backs, hands intertwined as they looked at the stars.

“I love you, you know that right?” It was Steve who broke their silence first.

Eddie rolled onto his side, keeping Steve’s hand in his. “Of course I do.” He pulled it to him, placing a gentle kiss on Steve’d knuckles.

Steve turned his head to face Eddie, “Okay good, just making sure.” He smiled but Eddie could see the edges of worry in his eyes.

“Come here.” He tugged Steve over and into his arms despite the heat and the sweat covering both of them. “I love you and I know you love me back baby, forever and always,”

“Forever and always,” Steve agreed as he and Eddie both leaned into each other’s space until their lips were touching and a silly make-out began.

Eddie rolled on top of Steve attacking his face with kiss after kiss, on his cheeks, forehead, the bridge of his nose, his eyelids, and finally his lips. Steve deepened the kiss immediately hands gripping Eddie’s shoulders so insistently Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle against Steve’s lips.

“What?” Steve pulled back but only enough to ask.

“You loooove me,” Eddie dissolved into a fit of laughter, clinging to Steve and hiding his face in his shoulder as Steve laughed and tried to shove him off.

“Oh fuck off.”

[impactedfates]

Hii! I loved your platonic Genshin kidnapped child reader so, could I ask for Platonic Honkai star rail men when their child is kidnapped?

★ A/N: Yep, you can. Here you go, hope this is alright!

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial

★ Format: HeadCannons (Characters Included (Separate): Sampo, Blade, Argenti + Gepard)

☆ Warnings: Mentions and hints of kidnapping // Mentions of death (In Blades one)

★ Extra: Reader is shorter then most characters (They're about 6-7 age wise) // Characters are single dads // Semi Proof-Read // Short

Sampo is a con man, and he's made many people dislike him, many people want revenge on whatever he did. He knows this, however he never thought those people would resort to kidnapping his own kid to do so.

Look, you can hurt him, you can ruin his reputation, you can do whatever. But to kidnap you just because of your association with him is where he draws the line. As soon as he gets word on what happened he's finding out your location straight away.

And as soon as he knows it, he'll find a way to get you back and the perpetrators won't know what hit them until they wake up to find you gone and a note from the man himself, Sampo Koski.

Blade is pissed. Sure he may not always have time for you however he cares for you a lot. You are his kid, and once word gets to him that you're kidnapped? He is tracking you down no matter how long it takes or the amount of bodies gets left in his trail to find you.

He gets SilverWolf to help track your location and as soon as he knows he's off to get you. He only has to pray to whatever Aeons that you're blindfolded as he's not wasting a minute in hearing the cries of mercy, they don't deserve it.

Once he gets you home he inspects you to make sure you're fine, to ensure you're not hurt. He never lets you leave his sight after that, or anyone's for that matter. If he must leave for a mission he asks for the other members or even Elio to take care of you until he returns.

Argenti truly loves and protects you. As a knight he does this incredibly well so when someone successfully kidnaps you he's more than surprised. He puts a halt in his search for Idrila as looking for his child is far more important in this moment and time.

He isn't sure what he did to get someone to want to kidnap you or if all they want is money. But he will track you down, if they want money then he'll give it to them. However if you are hurt upon returning to him or they still refuse to give you back then he isn't afraid to put up a fight.

He won't go too far, he'll merely knock them out and call the appropriate authorities to take them away. He understands that whatever happened shook you. Scared you, so he'll spend more time with you to try and take your mind off things, take you out to various planets to shop. His search for Idrila can wait. For now YOU are his priority

I feel like Gepard oftens leaves you with Serval when he's out on duty. So the chances of you getting kidnapped are rather low as you have an auntie to protect you, not to mention the Silvermane Guards outside her workshop and how I feel Serval would make small guard robots.

So it comes to a surprise when he finds out you've been kidnapped. He doesn't bother asking questions, for now he quickly gathers a search party and gets others to ask around as he investigates the workshop. Perhaps you were kidnapped by a worker of Serval, this gives Gepard a good idea and he searches the houses of said worker.

Once he finds where you are, he wastes no time in arresting them and anyone else who happens to be in there as he quickly goes to your side to check on your wellbeing. He takes you to the doctors to get you checked up and once you're confirmed to be okay he's relieved.

Bronya gives him a few days off so he can spend time with you, it also gives him time to figure out how to ensure this won't happen again. He still trusts Serval to look after you, and she's already making sure to be careful who she lets work with her but he wants to be doubly sure nothing will happen to you again.

I need Blades banner to go so I'm not tempted to pull for his LC. I need Loucha.

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 7: Fresh Baked Goods

Bucky Barnes x wife!reader

wc: 0.9k

warnings: anxiety induced baking

an: this was one of my favorites and now I have a few more ideas of what I should bake this month hehe. Reblog if you enjoyed, I'll see you tomorrow for Day 8!

Since you were old enough to use the stove unsupervised baking has been your main way to get rid of stress. The way that it captured all your focus and kept your hands busy made it the prime choice for distraction in moments of chaos. 

When finals week would roll around you would be drowning in all sorts of breads, cookies, muffins, and pastries. You had resorted to donating them to a local soup kitchen whenever you could, or forcing them off on your friends, teachers whoever would take them really.

The habit had not broken in adulthood, though you were now more mindful about other ways to cope, when the stress got to be a little too much you resorted to finding a new recipe and firing up the oven. 

And your husband going on two week-long missions where he wasn’t allowed to contact you was a great example of the stress becoming too much. Currently, the little kitchen in the townhome the two of you had bought together last year was absolutely covered in all kinds of goodies. You had some pumpkin rolls, several batches of apple cinnamon muffins, caramel apple cookies, apple turnovers, and some pumpkin and chocolate chip loaf. 

You were rolling out the four sheets of pie dough you had prepared for the various flavors of filling that are currently cooling in your fridge. Suffice to say that you had overdone it but you really had nothing else to do. 

You had finished all the cleaning there was to do the first week he had been gone, and you didn’t want to mindlessly watch the shows on your list because you promised Bucky you wouldn’t watch them without him. You had gone through your entire closet and pulled out things you could donate, you had asked for more tasks from work and then promptly finished all of those too. 

You had nothing to distract yourself, so you resorted to baking. You knew the treats would get eaten, either by your husband’s team or the people at your own work if they were left in the breakroom. But you’re not really sure how much longer this can go on before it’s considered an actual problem.

Luckily and unbeknownst to you, you wouldn’t have anything to be worried about in a few hours, because your husband would walk through your front door. 

Bucky hated blackout missions, not only did he think the whole concept was paranoid and that was a lot coming from him, but he had people to miss now. He had ties to the real world, ones he didn’t feel entirely comfortable abandoning for two weeks even if you’d talked about it before he left.

He worked hard to get the job done as soon as possible and told Ross to shove it when the general had asked him to stick around for one more day so he could complete the mission debrief. That was Sam’s job anyway, the type of bureaucratic responsibility that came along with the stars and stripes plastered across his chest. 

So he shed himself off his mission gear, changed into his civvies, and hopped on his motorcycle. He didn't wait a second before revving it up and coming home to you. 

He did not expect however to open the door and be assaulted with the smell of cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove. He sighed and shook his head with a smile, mentally preparing himself for the sight of his kitchen being turned into a bakery.

You didn’t hear the door open, too busy humming along to the Fred Astaire record spinning on the table in the corner. You didn’t notice Bucky slipping off his boots or hanging up his jacket. You didn’t hear the padding of his feet as he made his way to the kitchen and you didn’t notice when he propped himself up against the door frame and took in the sight of your baking breakdown.

You did however hear his slightly teasing lilt of “Honey, I’m home.” 

You spin to face the voice and let out an undignified squeal. You spin around looking for a place where you can set the hot pan in your hand and give up, practically throwing it back into the oven before taking a running start and launching yourself at him

His deep chuckle blesses your ears and you dig your nose into his chest taking a big breath of something that can only be described as Bucky. 

“You’re home!” yelled muffled by his chest.

He ran a hand down the back of your head over his hand, “You baked.”

You pull back and look sheepishly at him, hoping that the kisses you scatter across his face will distract him from the abundance of carbs behind you.

It doesn’t work. The two of you eat muffins for breakfast every day for the next two weeks, Bucky takes some of the treats to the base with him and says the trainees are grateful but that the sugar makes them annoying. You bring some of what’s left to your own work and are met with a bunch of thank you e-mails and even a thank you coffee from the nice older woman who sits three desks away from you. The rest you bring to the children’s hospital the next time the two of you visit, sweets are always a hit there.

Bucky does ban you from the kitchen for three weeks after though, afraid you’ll get the urge again and he’ll have to add a few more hours of gym time to his routine to burn off all the carbs he’s been eating.

[therocketeer0501]

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (mech pilot AU)

Warnings/TW: blood, weapons, mention of torture, robot gore, human experimentation (shockwave is shockwave), language, and peril. (I’ll add more as I post)

(Author note: Before I get started I wanted to get a few things out of the way. This is my own AU and doesn’t really lend itself to much existing media. Gonna mash a few continuities together. This is in no way a professional writing by any means. I am not running it past a beta or anything so it’s going to be rough. I wanted to write this for myself and share it with y’all! This is my silly nonsense. That being said if I don’t clarify something or if something doesn’t make sense please submit an ask and I will promptly explain! Now without further ado. Here is the anticipated first chapter of Emptiness machine! Thank you all for waiting.)

Read first

Data log entry #857

Date: 003029 Time: 0700

Time since first contact: 2 years, 4 months, 7 days

What began as a national defense strategy became one of the most complex military operations in the history of the world. Project Archangel, founded by Dr. Zinovy Antonov, began under the pretense of creating the world’s first mechanized army. He started his research long before we found out we weren’t alone out here among the stars. With the arrival of the Cybertronian visitors came the fear that humanity was not only vastly outgunned, but also grossly unprepared to deal with any threat from deep space. Dr. Antonov pleaded with the government to allow him near the deactivated body of one of the Cybertronians, who was discovered after a battle had broken out between factions.

He studied their biology and created what he dubbed the perfect exoskeleton. Fueled by chemical X, also known as Energon, and operated by none other than the human soul itself. There weren’t many volunteers to undergo the rigorous training and testing that these pilots had to go through. But with the help of Cybertronian Autobot scientists, Project Archangel was finally given the green light to move forward. Only three pilots made it through the initial testing.

Pilot: Seraphim, Pilot: Uriel, and Pilot: Michael.

With their functioning mecha, these pilots were meant to assist the Autobot Cybertronians in keeping earth from being terraformed by the opposing Cybertronian facton, the Decepticons.

Which brings us to the present. We have had zero contact with the other faction known as the Decepticons until two months ago. The Autobots insisted we keep our distance and only deploy Project Archangel as a last resort. Keeping the humans out of the conflict was essential if they wanted to stay neutral in the eyes of the Decepticons. As far as we know, no Decepticon has ventured down to the planet’s surface from their airship Nemesis to interact with the population. Only sending drones to wreak havoc on areas rich in Chemical X.

However, in recent months, there have been sightings of Decepticon officers and scientists (identified by Autobot command) on the planet’s surface. It was decided that we bring Project Archangel out of the shadows and deploy them on a scouting mission alongside several Autobots. We only hope that we haven’t made a grave mistake.

Chapter 1

You let yourself be pulled through the spiral of light emanating from the ground bridge. Traveling via the alien tech was a feeling that no one could describe. The closest thing to it was like having a magnet in your chest be pulled faster than your brain could register before spitting you back out on the other side. It had taken many practice runs for you to not throw off your stabilizers and stick the landing. Though it still made you dizzy and a bit sick.

After landing behind Bee in a heavily wooded area, you quickly scan the trees for energy signatures. Your scanners were only programmed to detect the Decepticon drones and of course the energy signatures of your comrades. Bumblebee signaled for you to fall in behind him and you promptly obeyed. You could feel the way your heart pounded against your ribcage where your body rested snug inside the metal chest of your mech. Your consciousness flawlessly divided between the two bodies. One living metal, and one flesh. Energon flowed steady through your lines as you tried to calm the slight tremor of your hand that came with the rush of adrenaline.

Ahead you could see the energon mine in the waning light. A clearing with a large metal structure in the center. The two huge metal doors at the entrance had been blown wide open to reveal the tunnel that went deep inside the earth to extract the precious ore. The human sentries, once posted outside, were nowhere to be found. Vehicles were overturned and some still smoldered where they had been hit with plasma bolts. You switch to internal comms so you can communicate with Bee without anyone on the outside hearing.

“Second wave in twenty. Nineteen….”

You slowly count down the seconds until the others arrive so you can rush the structure together. Adjusting your grip on your rifle you study entrance trying to imagine just what awaited you inside. Clearly a monster. Looking to your left you see Bumblebee gripping his null ray, an uncharacteristically stoic look on his face. You had some form of friendship with all the autobots, but you were closest to the little yellow scout. Perhaps it was shared interest or the fact that he seemed more your age. Whatever the case, you had shared so many things with each other over the two ish years that you had been a part of Project Archangel. Only once did you ask him about his home.

He looked saddened at the question and at first you thought he wouldn’t answer you. But he did. You spent the better part of a day listening to how he didn’t know Cybertron before it had been nearly obliterated by the war. It had been a planet filled with culture, music, and arts. No factions to speak of. A united Cybertron. But then came the slow divide of the classes. The divide grew until there were only the obscenely wealthy, and those who had nothing. That’s when, from the pits of Kaon, came the leader of the Decepticon faction.

Megatron.

Bumblebee described him as charismatic and well spoken. Someone bots wanted to rally behind. Many of the Autobots started out as Decepticons in the early days of the war. Taking down the government brick by brick until nothing remained. When it came time to build a new government, Megatron wasn’t satisfied. He wanted all the bots and their families who dared oppress him gone. Obliterated until nothing was left. He ended up doing exactly that. This cost him many followers and eventually after many thousands of years, his home. He didn’t stop. Blaming the Autobots for the lack of energon and destruction on Cybertron.

With a dead world and nowhere to go, the Autobots turned to the libraries in what was left of Iacon. There they found records of worlds seeded with energon by the 13 original Primes. A failsafe in case something were to happen to Cybertron. Optimus Prime lead the remaining Autobots off world to look for a suitable new home. Of course Megatron followed. They tore their way through 11 uninhabited worlds while trying to find one that suited them best. Stripping the worlds of their energon before moving on to the next. Earth was the first seeded world to have intelligent life. Optimus made it his sole mission to keep that intelligent life from having to endure the horrors of the war they brought with them.

It was nearly impossible due to the ever present evil that lurked in the sky. The Nemesis, like a dark cloud, hung overhead when you looked up. What kind of monsters would tear apart their home just to make a point? You were about to find out. A ground bridge portal appeared nearly blinding her as she adjusted her optics to its harsh blue light. Four bots landed and immediately began sprinting towards the entrance. Your peds began to automatically move. The yellow scout close on your heels as the two of you followed your comrades inside. Drones swarmed around you the instant you broke the entrance. Inside you could see Cliffjumper, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and one of your brothers in arms Michael. His mech was a heavy class. Not very good at maneuvering but excellent at breaking things. Throwing a drone into a wall with the butt of your rifle, you turn to Bee and chuckle over comms.

“I was expecting more of a fight. This is a fairly average number of drones.”

He didn’t reply right away as he tried to pull a drone off of one of the lambo twins. You couldn’t tell which one because of the sheer number of bodies trying to suffocate the bot. Using your jump jets you propel yourself forward and into the pile sending a good number of the drones flying. They broke easily, not filled with much energon either. It made you wonder just how the Decepticons managed to manufacture so many drones while the Autobots controlled the energon. With the last of the drones dispatched, you look around and regroup with the others. Slowly you start moving further into the mine. Eventually it would open up into a huge cavern. It would be beautiful if not for the dread that had settled over the group like a thick fog. Suddenly your comm crackled to life as Sideswipe replied to your earlier comment in Bumblebee’s stead.

“We’ll get a good fight eventually. These tin cans are just the appetizer for the main course. It’s confirmed, Shockwave is here. I’ve been itching to dig my fist into that lone optic of his.”

He emphasized his excitement by sending his fist into the shoulder of his brother. The golden bot gave him a sour look but didn’t retort like he normally would have. The energy of the Autobots had been stoic ever since it was confirmed that the first Decepticon on scene was Shockwave. You had no idea what to expect. You knew Shockwave was a scientist and known for his cruel and unusual experiments during the war on Cybertron. He created the most horrific weapons used in the Great War, so he must be someone to fear at the very least.

As you make your way down, you begin to hear a long drawn out noise. Almost like a squeaky door hinge but amplified, bouncing off the walls of the mine shaft. Then there was the screaming. You had wondered what happened to the sentries who were stationed outside. Now you knew. A deep voice rumbled from up ahead. It was cold, unfeeling, and filled you with dread.

“Test 8 unsuccessful. Most illogical. Send another.”

There was that horrible sound like metal rending and then another shriek cut short. Before a sigh of resignation came from nearby. It wasn’t Shockwave who made the noise of dissatisfaction. Another Decepticon. Your heart pounded as you look over at your fellow bots to see if they heard the same thing you did. If their wide optics were any indication, they had. Two Decepticons. Not just one. You listened closely as the other bot seemed to pace back and forth in front of the opening to the cavern. You and your companions were split on either side of the entrance, listening but not yet entering the space.

The other Decepticon doesn’t speak and suddenly he goes eerily silent. It made your hair stand on end and you almost felt like you were being watched. Could Decepticons see through reinforced steel? You shook your helm at the thought. No way. But after a heartbeat he said something that had your heart in your throat.

“Shockwave wrap it up. We aren’t alone.”

Cliffjumper growled into his comm in recognition of the voice.

“Spinster. He’s going to be trouble.”

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 8 (FINISHED SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, nonconsensual drugging, minor implication of necrophilia, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 17,700+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, current chapter, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

(Y/N) woke up from her sleep, tired and disoriented. She felt a warm presence holding her, and looked up to see Andrew. Andrew's hand was placed on her head, his other arm wrapped tightly around her body, holding her close in a protective manner. 

        (Y/N) tried to carefully sneaking out of his hold, but it was to no use. She didn't want to wake him up, so she just resorted to lying there. She looked at her clock, noticing it was 8 A.M, far earlier than she'd like to be up by.

        She looked over at Andrew and smiled. It's funny how she enjoys this practical stranger's company far more than she enjoyed Ren's, but I guess the difference between them is Ren was a stalker who didn't have any boundaries, and Andrew wasn't. 

        (Y/N) mentally gushed over his handsome face, resisting the urge to giggle as she saw drool on his lips.

        What? She's allowed to mentally enjoy the peaceful sight. Who cares if he's a murderer staying with her rent free and she murdered his sister. She doesn't have many peaceful things in her life, shut up and let her enjoy this moment before her life goes to hell once more!

        She remembered that her parents had spent the night, and that (Y/N) had express-shipped a package today for Andrew. 

        (Y/N) groaned, closing her eyes for a second before reopening them. She placed her hand on Andrew's arm, shaking him until he woke up.

        "Uh... (Y/N)?" Andrew muttered, sleepily. "Something wrong...?"

        "Morning, sleeping beauty." (Y/N) teased. "Ready to start today? We have a bunch of shopping to do."

        "To spend a day with you? I'm honored." Andrew hummed sarcastically, before reaching his hand out and touching her cheek, gently pinching and tugging it. "Let's get today started, bedhead." He smirked, before ruffling her messy hair. 

        (Y/N) smiled, standing up from her bed and stretching. She grabbed Andrew's crutches and handed it to him, standing near his side until she was certain he was up and balanced. 

        "I'm going to go change. Do you need a change of clothes?" (Y/N) questioned, rummaging through her drawers. 

        "No, don't bother." Andrew hummed, picking up his clothes where he left them last night. "I'll wear what I wore yesterday."

        "Okay... but I'm warning you, I meant it when I said that you're not going to be wearing the same clothes days at a time. After today, that outfit is going inside of the laundry basket and being washed." (Y/N) spoke sternly, holding her chosen outfit in her hands.

        "Got it, mom." Andrew teased, playfully rolling his eyes at her. 

        (Y/N) smiled, before walking into her bathroom and shutting the door, locking it behind her. They were only going out today, so there wasn't any reason to dress up in diamonds and bling. She changed out of her nightgown, putting on her bra and white shirt. She threw her dirtied bandages in the trash, before adding more gauze and medical tape to cover her stitches. She left her other scarred arm exposed, considering she was no longer bleeding and it’d be a waste of resources to cover it. She put on black shorts and a pastel purple jacket, a white star on the back of her jacket. She did her hair, adding in her signature yellow star hair clip before walking out of the room. 

        Andrew was done changing, wearing his black sweater and ripped grey jeans. His hair was messy from his bedhead, so she grabbed her hair brush and handed it to him.

        "Thanks." Andrew smiled, taking the brush and brushing out his black hair.

        Even with his hair brushed, it still stuck out in places, looking very fluffy and tempting to touch.

        Burnt marshmallow fluff... (Y/N) thought, staring at his hair. 

        Andrew handed her back her brush. She set it down on her bathroom counter, before looking over at him.

        "Are you ready? I have a surprise for you." (Y/N) smiled. 

        "Nothing bad, right?" he questioned, smiling.

        "No, no. Nothing bad." (Y/N) chuckled, placing her hand on his back as she guided him to the door. "It'll be helpful for you."

        "If you say so." He smiled, fighting back the shivers her touch gave him. 

        (Y/N) opened the door and guided him down her hallway. Rose and Frank were up and sitting at the dining table, 

        Frank’s phone sitting in front of them as they studied a digital map.

        “Good morning.” (Y/N) greeted, causing Rose to look up from the phone.

        “Do you know any good breakfast spots? We’re heading back to the farm now.” Rose spoke.

        “Morning, kiddo.” Frank smiled politely, before looking back at his phone.

        “Um… there’s IHOP? I like their crepes?” (Y/N) suggested.

        “Nevermind. I shouldn’t have expected you to know much about taste…” Rose sighed, her eyes drifting to Andrew, which seemed like an insult. 

        “Thanks, Ma.” (Y/N) smiled, more on the sarcastic end.

        (Y/N) guided Andrew to the living room coach for him to sit and rest his legs. She walked over to her front door and opened it, looking around before spotting a white package. 

        Thank God a porch pirate didn’t still this. This was about 300 bucks for a good quality one on sale. (Y/N) thought, crouching and picking up the box. 

        She carried the box inside, placing it down on the living room floor. She grabbed knife from her kitchen, cutting open the box and pulling out a plastic bag with something inside of it. Andrew looked curious, but was unsure if he was allowed to question her on what she bought.

        (Y/N) ripped open the bag, placing the object on the ground as she skimmed over the instructions. She got the gist, and grabbed the object, pulling it apart until it unfolded in a wheelchair. 

        “Ta-dah!” (Y/N) smiled. “I noticed you were struggling with those crutches, perhaps you had gotten used to wheelchairs at the hospital. I don’t blame you, they can tire out your arms quicker. I didn't want you having to apply pressure on your legs while they're trying to heal either.”

        Andrew smiled, placing his crutches down on the side as he looked at her. He was moved that she thought about his comfortability like that.

        "Thanks... but you didn't have to. I'm sure I could've managed." Andrew spoke, watching as she adjusted some screws and locks to keep the wheelchair from collapsing. 

        "Hey, don't worry about it. I want you to be comfortable." (Y/N) spoke. "Besides, we need your legs to heal after all." She added, testing out the wheelchair by placing her hands down on the chair, applying pressure to see if it’d collapse. “Here, test it out.” She smiled, turning the chair to his direction, wheeling it up to the couch.

        She placed her hand on his shoulder, her other hand wavering close to his waist in case he needed assistance. Andrew stood up using his crutches, before moving over to the wheelchair, sitting down on it. 

        “I paid extra for it to have brakes on it, that way you don’t have to burn your hands to stop.” (Y/N) explained, taking his crutches and resting them on the couch. 

        “Really now? How much?” Andrew questioned, tilting his head over at her.

        “Don’t worry about it.” (Y/N) smiled, ignoring the question. 

        “That’s a more fancy looking wheelchair than the movies.” Frank chirped, walking into the living room. “Hey, how’d you even break your legs? I’ve seen your legs move, so you’re not paralyzed waist down.”

        Andrew paused, looking over at Frank hesitantly.

        What’s he supposed to tell him? That he jumped off a building a few stories high? That’s a bit personal, and in a sense, humiliating.

        “A car accident about a week back.” (Y/N) jumped in, placing her hand on his back in a silent reassurance. “It’s was some shattering, but he seems to be healing up quick!” 

        “Yeah. It was a nasty car accident.” Andrew nodded, playing along. 

        “That sucks…” Frank commented, before looking down at his legs. “Does it hurt?”

        “Obviously it hurts, Frank.” Rose scoffed, entering the living room. “He shattered his bones.” 

        “Well, maybe he has strong opioids! Or maybe he’s superhuman, like Hulk or something…” Frank spoke.

        “I wish.” Andrew chuckled. “It hurts, but it’s not terrible…”

        (Y/N) looked over at him with a concerned expression. She had completely forgotten that he should’ve been taking pain meds, but Andrew looked to be the guy to tough it out (much to any nurse’s annoyance).

        “Hey, do you need any meds?” (Y/N) questioned. “I have some. They’re not the strong kind but they can help?” 

        “Nah, don’t worry about it.” Andrew smiled. “This wheelchair helps me a lot already.” 

        “If you say so…” (Y/N) muttered, concerned.

        “Oh, (Y/N). We need to talk before I leave.” Rose spoke, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for (Y/N) to sit next to her.

        “Yes, Mama…” (Y/N) nodded, a bit hesitant before sitting down next to her.

        “You boys go on git for a few seconds. Go outside on the balcony or something.” Rose ordered to the boys.

        “Why can’t we stay?” Andrew questioned, a sort of annoyance fizzing in his stomach and chest.

        “Cause this doesn’t concern the likes of you.” Rose scoffed.

        “C’mon, you heard the lady.” Frank spoke, before forcing Andrew out of the room by pushing his wheelchair, taking him out to the balcony.

        “So?” Rose hummed, crossing her legs together, placing her hands on her lap. “Tell me, how has your job been going babysitting?”

        “Nursing.” (Y/N) corrected, though she knew Rose said that on purpose. “And it’s been very fun. New things everyday. No repetition. There’s always something to do.” (Y/N) explained. “And of course, the kids are absolute sweethearts.” 

        “Right” Rose hummed.

        “I’m studying more. I’m continuing college and taking classes so I can up the ranks and be a pediatrician.” (Y/N) explained, crossing her arms. 

        “More money is good…” Rose nodded.

        “And you? Being a nurse?” (Y/N) questioned. “How is that for you?” 

        “Money is money, you can never have too much.” Rose smiled. “Besides, the farmhands have the farm under control. They do the work, get some pocket change, and get some money—you’ll be doing that soon too.” 

        “Is that so?" (Y/N) hummed. 

        "He wouldn't do good on the farm, you know." Rose spoke, her cold eyes trailing to (Y/N)'s. "He's a city boy—he doesn't know a thing about farming." Rose spoke, her fingers tapping her thigh impatiently. "But don't worry, I was able to ask around and I have some suitors for you. They grew up doing the farm work on their family farms, so they know how to care for the farm. They're only a town or two away from ours, so they don't know anything about your problems or what happened with Ren."

        It felt like a blood vessel popped as Rose said his name, causing (Y/N) to bite her tongue and her nails to dig into her palms. 

        "Don't you fucking talk about him." (Y/N) spat out.

        "Excuse me?" Rose exclaimed, shocked. 

        "I'm not going back home, I'm not going to inherit the farm, and I'm not going back to him so long as he breathes. I've already told you this, Mama." (Y/N) hissed. 

        "You need to let go of the past. You need to get over your denial and understand that you were the one that killed that boy, not Ren." Rose spoke, pointing her finger at her. "You just don't remember because you have that stupid fucking curse just like your father."

        "It's not a curse; it's a disorder." (Y/N) scoffed. "You're a nurse. The least you can do is understand what patients you'll have to deal with."

        "Whether you like it or not, you're going to take over that farm. You're the only existing (L/N) and my family name will not die off because of your selfishness." Rose spat. "The farm will be written in your name when I die, it'll be in my will. You're going to marry a farmer, and you're going to take over the farm until you produce a child with my last name who is actually grateful for the opportunities the farm gives them."

        "No, I'm not." (Y/N) hissed. "I didn't just move out of home to hide, I came here to be seen." (Y/N) spoke. "This is where I belong. Nursing is where I belong. My coworkers are amazing and they don't judge me like you. The kids are absolutely fantastic and so, so smart. So much smarter than you! Even the kids' parents are better than you when they throw fits because at least they care for their children's health!"

        "You're an attention seeker. You're selfish. You're incompetent. You're nothing without my last name." Rose hissed, clenching her fist as she stood up from her seat. "If you don't open your eyes and realize that soon enough, that boy is going to run away from you as soon as he can walk!" 

        "No, he won't!" (Y/N) exclaimed, sitting up from her seat. "Andrew's not going to leave me."

        I won't let him. She thought. 

        “You’re delusional if you think he’d actually stay with you as you are.” Rose laughed. “You’re practically nothing without the farm! No money, student loans—you’re nothing but the embodiment of paranoia and guilt. You have it worse than your father.” 

        “You are not going to disrespect me under my own roof, Rose.” (Y/N) hissed, clenching her fists.

        “I’m your mother.” Rose scoffed. “And I’m not disrespecting you, I’m guiding you! I’m trying to give you a good life and you’re being a brat about it!” 

        “Oh, excuse me for choosing what I want to do in my own life.” (Y/N) scoffed.

        “If you chose what you want, you'd be dead!” Rose exclaimed. “I have to make decisions for you because you’ll kill yourself otherwise!” 

        It stung to hear that, a piercing knife stabbing through (Y/N)’s heart that couldn’t be pulled out without causing more damage. It hurt to know she was such a burden, and it hurt even more to know that Rose was—in a sense—right.

        "I decided all of this; not you!” (Y/N) shouted, her arms opening up as she gestured to everything around her. “I left the farm on my own, I was homeless for months on my own, I got a job on my own, I made money on my own, I got into college on my own. I don’t need you to make decisions for me!” 

        “You have no experience in life, you can’t even commit to living your life!” Rose spoke. “You don’t know anything about life because you’re so close-minded. One day you’re going to wake up alone in bed without that little boy and wish you would’ve listened to me because that’s not a man out there, that’s a boy! He’ll leave you as soon as his legs heal, and you’ll come crawling back to me about how I was right, and that you’ll marry one of those farm boys and live a lavish life with raspberries and riches!” Rose blabbered, rambling on about her fantasy.

        “You don’t get to decide that!” (Y/N) spat out, her hands reaching out to grab her own hair anxiously, tugging on it from the claustrophobic pressure.

        “You can’t even talk to me like a normal person without freaking out! What makes you think that you can even make decisions for yourself if you can’t even take care of yourself?” Rose hissed, pointing her finger accusingly at (Y/N).

        “I am normal—I just have a few extra steps to me!” (Y/N) spoke, exasperated. “Mama, I’m not going to take the farm. I’m not going back. I’m not marrying those damn farm boys you want! I don’t need your generational wealth!”

        “It doesn’t matter what you say, it’ll be in my will.” Rose retorted.

        “You give me that farm and I’ll sell it!” (Y/N) hissed. 

        Rose’s face dropped, surprised, before it hardened once more.

        “You know, I’ve made plenty of decisions in my life; but marrying your father and having you was by far the worst. It haunts me to this day.” Rose spat out. “Your father has complicated my life, but you’re the one who's completely destroyed it.” 

        “Stop it, Ma.” (Y/N) spoke, gritting her teeth.

        “Even though you’re out of town, I still have to pay for your actions. It’s my family’s farm and reputation on the line. My last name is slandered because of you. I can’t even go to the grocery store without getting nasty looks. I’ve been kicked out of church, my own damn religion and identity rejects me because of your actions. Those pesky kids in town are burning my berry bushes and stoning my chickens and throwing rocks at my windows. I can’t talk to the other mothers, or even try to talk to Ben’s mother., all because of you and your father.” Rose spoke.

        Another stab to her heart, guilt overwhelming her. Even if she wasn’t the one holding the stones, she was still the target; Rose was just unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire. Even if it wasn't her fault, nobody will believe the freak show's daughter over the jail warden's son. 

        After all, you wouldn't expect your son to be a bad person until he is. Ren being the warden's son only gave him an advantage in life to break the law. Maybe his father believes that Ren could "straighten" or "stray the path" of (Y/N)'s away from the Devil (her disorder) to where she wouldn't be a freak. Either way, Ren will inherit his family's jailhouse just like (Y/N) will inherit her family's farm. A normal civilian can't vote for who inherits the jailhouse or farm, only the previous owner can; and it looks like Ren isn't being put off that will anytime soon.

        “Why don’t you move away? Start a new farm?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Because I don’t run away from my problems, unlike you.” Rose hissed.

        No, that wasn’t the truth. The truth was Rose’s home was at the line. Her money was at the line. Relocating and having to renew all her crops, find a large enough piece of land with a similar climate, hire new and experienced farmhands; all of that would be too tedious for Rose's liking.

        “You’ve made my own home unsafe.” Rose spoke. “And I hope you die for it.” 

        “Please get out of my house, Mama.” (Y/N) pleaded.

        “House? House? You can’t even call it a home because you don’t have one! You’re welcomed nowhere!” Rose shouted. “Even after you took my home you have the audacity to claim you don’t have one! It’s right under your nose!”

        (Y/N) didn’t know whether to cry, scream back, or run. She felt nauseous and weak, any second longer and she might puke on the ground. 

        There was a feeling of fear too, even though there was no immediate threat. Maybe it was the fear of her feelings, or maybe it was just the urge to run again—whatever it was, it was overpowering.

        (Y/N) didn’t want to put her hands on her own mother, that’d be disrespectful even if she was being slandered herself.  

        Even if she hates her mother; she loves her too.

        “It’s time to go, Mama.” (Y/N) sighed. “Go eat breakfast with Papa.”

        “Don’t tell me what to do.” Rose hissed. “I’m going to go get lunch now instead!”

        So petty.

        (Y/N) mentally rolled her eyes, walking to the balcony to get the men.

        The pair of boys stopped their conversation, their heads turned to the door. They both had an expression verging on confused, concerned, and surprised. 

        “Papa, you need to leave. Me and Andrew have plans today.” (Y/N) spoke, opening the door.

        .

        .

        “C’mon, you heard the lady.” Frank spoke, before forcing Andrew out of the room by pushing his wheelchair, taking him out to the balcony.

        Andrew reluctantly turned his head to the pair of women. The pair held poker faces, but there was tension in the air even before their conversation started. 

        Frank opened the balcony and pushed Andrew out with him, closing the balcony door. They stood on the balcony together, looking down at the dirty city. 

        “I really hate places like this…” Frank sighed, leaning on the balcony railing. 

        “Uh… yeah. I guess it’s not pretty.” Andrew agreed hesitantly.

        Even though he did agree, he was more concerned of Frank throwing him off the railing 2 stories high. Sure the drop wasn’t too far down, but 20 feet is 20 feet, and if he lands on his head wrong, he’s not so sure he’ll get back up this time.

        Frank fumbled in his back pocket, before pulling out a box of cigarettes.

        “You smoke?” he questioned, shaking the box as an offer. 

        “Yeah.” Andrew nodded.

        Frank opened the box and pulled out two cigarettes, handing Andrew one. Andrew just realized that Frank was missing a finger, a clean nub where the bones should be. Andrew doesn't know what Frank works as, but he can only guess it's a factory or a manual labor job.

        Frank grabbed his Zippo lighter, flipping the cover and spinning the flint wheel till it sparked and fire appeared. He lit his cigarette, then Andrew’s.

        “If I smoke by Rose, she’ll chew me out.” Frank hummed, exhaling smoke. “She doesn’t like the smell. Says it sticks on my clothes. 

        The mention of third-hand smoke made Andrew pause, looking down at the cigarette he was about to put in his mouth and hesitating.

        “Actually… you can keep this…” Andrew spoke, smudging the end of the cigarette so it went out. “I don’t want to smell bad in the car with (Y/N).” He spoke, holding the cigarette out.

        “Thoughtful, huh?” Frank chuckled, taking the stick and placing it back in his cigarette box. “I stop caring about that 20 years ago.” 

        “You’ve been smoking that long?” Andrew questioned, surprised.

        “You're bound to pick it up after dealing with that woman.” Frank huffed. “(Y/N)’s got her moments too.” 

        “She does?” Andrew responded, surprised.

        (Y/N)? Really? He’d be shocked if she even raised her voice. Even when he was yelling and shaking her back at the hospital, she didn’t try fighting or talking back, just cowered.

        “Yeah.” Frank nodded. “Though, we all have our moments.”

        “What’s hers?” Andrew questioned before he could think.

        “What’s yours?” Frank retorted.

        Andrew opened his mouth to speak, before deciding to just shut up. Yeah, he’d rather not talk about his moments either.  

        “Touché…” Andrew nodded, crossing his arms.

        “Do you have any farming experience?” Frank questioned.

        Andrew looked at him funny, caught off-guard from the unexpected question. “No… why? Is that on the job requirement?” Andrew chuckled, making a poor joke. 

        “Rose has a family farm, and it’ll be in (Y/N)’s name when she dies.” Frank spoke. “So, Rose is pretty adamant on a guy who can farm.”

        “So?” Andrew questioned. “I mean, does (Y/N) even want that? Why is she even in the city as a nurse if she’s supposed to take over the farm?”

        “She doesn’t want it.” Frank smiled, taking an inhale of his nicotine, before exhaling. “Acres upon acres of land. Selling the land is hundred thousands, maybe even a few million. But selling the land with the family business included, that’s a guaranteed 5 million or more.” 

        If Andrew was smoking a cigarette, he’d be choking on smoke now—well, even without a cigarette in his mouth, he was practically choking on his spit, shocked.

        “W-wait—ack—really?!” he gasped, coughing. 

        “Yeah.” Frank smirked, proud as if he was the one bestowing upon his daughter a fortune. “But she doesn’t want it.”

        “Why?” Andrew questioned, his jaw dropped.

        Who the hell would reject that much money? He thought.

        “I don’t know.” Frank shrugged. “I don’t care what her reasoning is. If she doesn’t want it, she doesn’t want it. I’m not going to try and get an answer. Sometimes you just gotta follow what your heart says.” 

        Andrew looked over at Frank, before groaning. 

        “That’s… kind of stupid.” Andrew commented.

        “You just don’t have the heart to understand it.” Frank hummed, tapping the end of his cigarette, watching as grey ashes fell from the burning end of the stick.

        "Can I ask you something?" Andrew spoke up.

        "Is it stupid?" Frank questioned. 

        "Maybe?" Andrew chuckled, but his voice held a sense of nervousness. 

        "Shoot." Frank nodded his head Andrew's way, telling Andrew to proceed. 

        "Why do you stay with Rose?" Andrew questioned. "No offense, but she's kind of... a bitch."

        Andrew sure was bold...

        Frank hissed, gritting his teeth like the question physically hurt him. 

        "Ah... Sometimes I wonder that myself." Frank grumbled, raising his cigarette to his mouth, inhaling as he thought, before he blew out the smoke. "I think I stay because it feels natural." 

        "Natural?" Andrew repeated, confused. 

        "When you stay with someone for so long, their bad qualities just seem like qualities in your life." Frank sighed. "A routine builds, and overtime, you just follow that routine on reflex. Every bad thing just feels like second-nature to you... There’s not much for people like me in this world, so I have to take what I can get." Frank cleared his throat and smiled. "But hey, maybe that's just natural for me."

        Andrew turned his attention back out to the city, staring down at the people who walked on the streets, talking on their phones or window-shopping. 

        "No, I think I understand you." Andrew nodded.

        Sure, he can't relate 100%, but he thinks he knows what Frank means. If Andrew actually remembered what happened before quarantine, maybe he’d have a better understanding.

        What he does know from now, is that his past self was stitched to Ashley’s side; who sewed who together, he’s still unsure. 

        Ashley’s made him do tons of bad things as far as he’s aware of. He’s had to kill people, eat people, sacrifice people to summon demons; he doesn’t know where the bad ends and the good begins in himself.

        Maybe his past self was just used to Ashley’s ways too, that it felt normal just as Rose’s ways feel normal to Frank.

        But if that’s the case, where does (Y/N) fall in?

        Andrew sighed, a knife of guilt stabbing his chest as he stared out at the city.

        Jesus, where was Ashley? She was still missing. He hasn’t seen her in at least three or four days now. Or has it been a week? Shit, he can’t remember? Why can’t he remember how long it’s been? That’s his sister for goodness sake, where is she? Is she okay? 

        The mens’ attention were turned to the closed balcony door, they could hear yelling, but they couldn’t hear exactly what they were shouting about.

        “Don’t worry much about it, it’s not too rare for those two.” Frank sighed. 

        Pushover. Andrew thought to himself, his eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated if he should go in there or not. He’d rather not (Y/N) get hurt, and he doesn’t want any neighbors to be curious of them and accidentally discover his identity. 

        “Shouldn’t you do something? It is your family in there.” Andrew spoke up.

        “I believe that problem is their problem.” Frank hummed, inhaling his addictive substance. “I don’t have nothing to do with it because I’m not welcome in their girl talk.” 

        “Seriously?” Andrew scoffed, annoyed at Frank’s lack of concern for the pair of women. “If they fight so much, shouldn’t you be the voice of reason?” 

        “It’s not worth getting chewed out for.” Frank retorted, exhaling smoke. “Life works in mysterious ways. It’ll resolve or it won’t, it’s as simple as that.” 

        Andrew rolled his eyes. He’d chew Frank out himself if he wasn’t currently wheelchair-bound.

        “But… I’m worried for her.” Frank admitted, looking out to the city. “I’m afraid she’ll end up like me. Or worse.” 

        Andrew tilted his head to Frank, unsure if he should try and pry into that or not.

        The balcony door suddenly ripped opened, (Y/N) appearing there as she peered at the two men. Her face held a frown and her skin was pale. She bit her bottom lip anxiously, her eyebrows furrowed before she spoke:

        “Papa, you need to leave. Me and Andrew have plans today.” 

        “Right. I still remember.” Frank sighed, pressing his cigarette’s burning end to the balcony railing, smushing the fire out. 

        Frank walked back into the apartment as Andrew followed, wheeling himself inside. (Y/N) shut the balcony doors and locked them tightly, before looking over at her parents.

        “Well, it was lovely to see you again. Thank you for stopping by and checking up on me, it means a lot.” (Y/N) forced a smile, clasping her hands together. 

        “Anytime, kiddo.” Frank smiled, before it dropped. “Okay, well, maybe not anytime. I mean, we don’t want you getting hurt again. And gas is pretty expensive too…” 

        “I’ll make sure to be more careful for now on.” (Y/N) reassured. 

        “Let’s go, Frank. I want to get lunch now.” Rose huffed, grabbing her husband’s arm.

        “Be safe. I love you, Papa, Mama.” (Y/N) smiled.

        (Y/N) gave a goodbye hug to her father, before going for a hug from Rose, but Rose refused as she walked out the door swiftly.

        “Ah, you know her…” Frank sighed, before walking over and shaking Andrew’s hand. “You know, Andrew. You’ve been looking pretty familiar this whole time I’ve seen you, but I just haven’t been able to put my finger on it until now…”

        Fuck. (Y/N) and Andrew thought at the same time.

        While Andrew thought his identity and crimes were a secret, (Y/N) was aware of them; however, she wasn’t willing to turn him in, having a sort of strange pull from him to her. If Frank somehow knew about Andrew, then why is he telling them this?

        “I-I do?” Andrew stuttered, nervous as his face paled, a struggling smile painting his lips.

        “Yeah, you look like my future son-in-law!” Frank cackled, letting go of Andrew’s hand.

        Andrew practically deflated of air as it escaped his mouth, glad to have not had his suspicions right.

        “D-do I?” he chuckled, breathless as he got over his previous scare.

        “Jesus, Papa… Don’t go saying things like that.” (Y/N) breathed, releasing her own breath she had held in. “You might scare him off by talking about such topics so early into our relationship…”

        “I just had to have the last word.” Frank shrugged, smirking before he walked out the front door and down the apartment stairs. “Nice meeting you, Andrew. Stay safe, (Y/N). I love you, sport!”

        (Y/N) smiled, waving her hand as she watched Frank hop into his pickup truck, Rose sitting in the passenger seat with the AC blowing. Frank drove out of the parking lot as the couple watched them leave. 

        “So…” (Y/N) sighed, her forced smile dropping as she looked back at Andrew. “You wanna out now? Get some lunch then go shopping for some clothes?”

        “Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” Andrew nodded, smiling.

        .

        .         Andrew always knew the stereotype that girls love shopping. He recalls Ashley browsing through the Internet during quarantine, saving a link of a cute choker from Hot Topic or searching the web high and low for a cheap pair of Doc Martens. 

        He was under the impression girls liked shopping for themselves, but (Y/N) proved him wrong with how much shirts and pants she kept adding to their basket. 

        She didn’t like shopping for herself—she liked shopping for him. 

        Andrew had a basket full of clothes sitting on his lap, another basket hanging off (Y/N)’s arm as she held up a shirt, bringing it to Andrew’s chest as she pictured him in it, before she threw the shirt into her basket.

        “Jesus, (Y/N). Don’t you think this is enough?” Andrew groaned.

        He was being to understand why kids complained about back to school shopping with their mothers at Old Navy. If his legs weren’t broken and he was standing throughout this whole ordeal, he’s certain his legs would be cramping and he would sit down on the dirty public floor with no shame.

        “No way. You’re staying with me, so you gotta be set.” (Y/N) spoke, feeling the fabrics to make sure they were comfortable and that it matched her taste.

        “Maybe we’ll go to a few more stores after this.” (Y/N) hummed. “Like, we can go somewhere you’d be into. Perhaps you’d like those sarcastic shirts from Spencer’s.” (Y/N) teased, giggling.

        “Ha ha.” Andrew laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

        He’s not sure exactly what his style is, he just likes being comfortable—then again, he kept rotating between two or three shirts a week during quarantine. Anything after quarantine, he doesn’t remember, so he doesn’t recall what his favorite clothing store is.

        “I can’t remember what my favorite store is…” Andrew admitted, a sort of sorrowful look in his eyes.

        (Y/N) noticed his gaze and halted her movement. “Well… we’ll just have to find a new favorite store.” She smiled. “You seem to like dark and comfy clothes, let’s try my favorite sweatshirt shop after this. They have sweatpants there are to die for! You might find something you like." 

        "Nah, don't bother..." Andrew muttered.

        He still felt a little iffy about this. It felt weird having someone spend money on him like this, much less someone he hasn't known for even a week yet—much less his former nurse who's now housing him. He already feels awkward enough having to bother her for shelter (even if she was the one that did suggest it), so he feels even worse having her buy him clothes. 

        (Y/N) heard his words, but willingly ignored him; either way, she was still going to end up going into that store, that was inevitable. 

        "Here, why don't you try some of these on while I continue browsing?" (Y/N) suggested. "Don't be afraid to tell me what you do and don't like. I'd rather buy you something you'd enjoy and wear, okay?" 

        "What? You're not going to help me change?" Andrew teased, smiling. "I am limited, you know."

        "Oh please, you changed into your clothes just fine this morning." (Y/N) spoke, rolling her eyes playfully at his teasing.

        "Worth a shot." Andrew shrugged, smirking before wheeling himself into the changing rooms, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

        (Y/N) looked around at the clothes surrounding them. Surprisingly, it was hard trying to find clothes or colors that fit Andrew's style. Having a white shirt causes a weird contrast between his hair, and not in a good way. Bright and vibrant colors such as yellows, reds, and oranges were an automatic no, it made him look far too pale. Blues and purples made him look a bit silly; a dark blue could work, but the plain color just matches his eyes poorly. It was like Andrew was made for boring, monochromatic colors. She relied on blacks and greys, but she was able to find a dark green flannel that worked. Flannels and sweaters seemed to be the only thing that looked good on him, which was pretty unfortunate considering he has such a handsome face. 

        (Y/N) pondered if she should stop at just clothes. She doesn’t mind getting cologne and bath products, maybe a pair of shoes too. 

        She started wondering what scents Andrew would be into. Mint, lemon, pine tree, a mix of all three? Maybe he likes more woodsy and musky scents? Or maybe he likes the more citrusy scents? Perhaps beach-like and sandalwood? Maybe an infusion of all? 

        (Y/N) heard the store’s bell ring, signaling a customer entered the store. She looked over at the door, her heart dropping once she saw who it was.

        “No fucking way…” she whispered to herself, almost hissing as she gritted her teeth.

        A mix of annoyance and fear brewed inside of her. She quickly looked around for a place to hide, before ducking into the clothing rack and hiding there. 

        Please, please. To anyone above listening to this. Please don’t let them see Andrew. Please don’t let them see me. Please don’t let them see us together… (Y/N) practically pleaded, looking up into the sky and pressing her hands together in a prayer. 

        There was silence for a few moments, followed by the store’s bell ringing; either signaling another customer entering, or exiting.

        (Y/N) peeked through the clothing, seeing nothing except a small boy and his mother shopping together.

        There was a few taps of what sounded like heeled shoes, before the clothing rack was ripped open, causing a surprised yelp to escape (Y/N)’s lips.

        The perpetrator's strawberry blonde hair glistened brightly under the store lights, her glossed pink lips in a wide smile as her eyes sparkled. 

        “(Y/N)!” Penelope beamed, smiling widely. 

        “H-hey, Pen…” (Y/N) smiled, nervous as she stood up fully from her crouched position behind the clothing racks. 

        “What are you doing there, silly?” Penelope questioned, opening the clothes wider for (Y/N) to exit.

        “I dropped my pen. It’s somewhere now…” (Y/N) lied, shoving her hands into her jacket as she stepped out into the aisle. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t important. I can just buy a new one.” 

        “So, what are you here shopping for in the men’s section?” Penelope questioned, smiling.

        “Just… looking for a new jacket.” (Y/N) muttered, coming up with an excuse. 

        “Really?” Penelope hummed, looking down  at the jacket (Y/N) wore. “I don’t… think that the men's section exactly matches your style? They don’t have much pastels or stars here.”

        “Just hoping I would be lucky.” (Y/N) smiled. “I just like the more oversized things, I guess.. They actually have pockets.” She spoke, before redirecting her attention back to Penelope. “So, why are you here in the men's clothing section?”

        “Oh, you know!” Penelope laughed. “My husband needs some new clothes so I’m just here looking for some. I know what looks better on him.”

        A nauseating pit formed in (Y/N)’s stomach as she forced herself to smile. (Y/N) forced herself to look down at Penelope's ring finger, but she couldn't find a ring on it. 

        (Y/N) doesn't like Penelope much, even if they do have a "friendship." She hangs out with Penelope outside of work merely for her social image, and so hopefully if she went missing, Penelope would at least tell the police. Though, with what Penelope's done in the past, it's hard to believe Penelope would even walk 100 meters near a police station. 

        “Husband, huh?” (Y/N) spoke, resisting the urge to cringe. “That’s lovely… Um, where is he?”

        “He’s at home. Don’t worry about him.” Penelope smiled, the corner of her lip twitching slightly, threatening to fall. 

        “Right.” (Y/N) muttered. “Well, nice seeing you…” She spoke, turning around to quickly walk away to the other side of the store, but Penelope grabbed her arm, stopping her.

        “Wait, I completely forgot to ask you! I’m so inconsiderate!” Penelope frowned. “How are you holding up? Are you feeling better after what happened?” 

        “Oh yeah… as dandy as ever.” (Y/N) forced a smile. “You ain’t gotta worry about me. I’ll be back at work in just a few short weeks.”

        “Speaking of work, Hailey’s parents stopped by recently.” Penelope spoke, causing (Y/N)’s smile to drop.

        “Crap, what did they say? How are they holding up?” (Y/N) questioned, suddenly interested in the conversation. 

        "Well, Mrs. Burnson didn't take the news well, neither did Mr. Burnson. But then again, who does take the death of their kid well?" Penelope sighed. 

        "Yeah, you can say that again." (Y/N) sighed.

        It's natural for parents to grieve over their children and become aggressive in those circumstances. Something as traumatic as that can drive anyone insane. The parents might blame themselves or the hospital staff. A few months ago, (Y/N) had to break the news of a patient's death to their parents. The child was three-years-old and died from a case of severe pneumonia. Promptly after receiving the news, security had to be called once the mother started choking out (Y/N). 

        Yeah, not so fun times. 

        "Oh, they were mad. After receiving the body and hosting a funeral a few days later, they came back to the hospital and barged through the front lobby looking for you, but they were promptly detained by security and the police came and arrested them." Penelope explained.

        "That's horrible..." (Y/N) frowned.

        Hailey's death was hard on everyone. It hurt pretty bad for (Y/N), but that's to be expected considering she was Hailey's nurse for three years. It would be worse on her parents. Even if the parents did constantly travel for work, (Y/N) still felt they should've visited Hailey more, maybe with their presence, Hailey's emotional health would've healed a bit. There are studies between depressed patients dying more often than those surrounded by family, friends, and support. But (Y/N) can't reverse time nor tell a parent how to parent, so the possibility of Hailey's death being different (or nonexistent) will just remain as a alternative outcome based on the events. 

        There's a possibility Doctor Ryan also feels a sense of despair or sorrow with Hailey gone, considering Hailey has been Doctor Ryan's patient for about just the same time as she was (Y/N)'s. When (Y/N) returns to work, she'll make sure to check up on him.

        "Hey, we should shop together." Penelope suggested, trying to lighten up the pitiful mood. "We couldn't hang out due to your accident, but we can hang out now that you're up on your feet!"

        "Oh, I would love too." (Y/N) smiled, looking away as she tried to come up with a lie. "But actually, I have to get home and cook dinner..."

        "We can have dinner together!" Penelope suggested, smiling.

        "Oh, but I'm put on a diet so it'll just be boring soup." (Y/N) added.

        "That's fine. I like soup!" Penelope reaffirmed. 

        "I can't because—"

        (Y/N) was cut off by the sound of the fitting room door creaking open, following by rubber grazing against the tile. Penelope's eyes traveled behind (Y/N), surprised. 

        God fucking damn it. (Y/N) thought internally.

        She sucked in a breath before turning to look at the wheelchair-bound male.

        Andrew's eyes focused on Penelope, a feeling of annoyance creeping up behind him..

        Why the hell was she here? Does this shop look like a damn hospital? Why was she here talking with (Y/N)?

        "These fit. Ready to go?" Andrew spoke, ignoring Penelope's existence.

        Andrew talking to her just confirmed that the two came here together, which looks pretty bad on (Y/N)'s part.

        "Yeah..." (Y/N) nodded, looking over to see Penelope's expression.

        Penelope's eyes were wide, shocked as she kept glancing at Andrew and her fellow co-worker. She fiddled with her purse strap nervously, before clearing her throat.

        "Um... (Y/N). You're aware of the hospital policies, right?" Penelope questioned, frowning. "What are you doing with a former patient? Having any sort of connection outside of the hospital is strictly frowned upon and can result in termination!" 

        "Penelope, I can explain." (Y/N) hissed, lowering her voice so the other shoppers nearby can't eavesdrop. 

        "I thought you said to leave him—"

        Right. Penelope knows Andrew's secret just as (Y/N) does. (Y/N) was barely able to convince (bully) Penelope using extortion to keep her quiet when she confronted her at the hospital. She had implanted the idea that Andrew might attack the other patients if either her or Penelope sent a tip to the police, but now that they were out of the hospital, in public with (Y/N) going clothes shopping for him like nothing was wrong—this would definitely look suspicious to Penelope. 

        Something needs to be done before Penelope's big mouth goes and tells someone who will go to the police.

        "Penelope!" (Y/N) snapped, her lips contorted into a strained smile. "Let's not talk about this here. We can discuss work later, yeah?" 

        Penelope's eyebrows furrowed, hesitant before she eventually sighed. "Okay, okay..." she muttered, nervous as she looked between the two. 

        "So..." (Y/N) coughed, clearing her throat as the tension between the three felt suffocating. "You said you wanted to hang out with us. We can go get boba." she suggested, although it sounded more like a demand. 

        "Y-yeah..." Penelope nodded. "Let's do that."

        .

        .

        The sky was grey, a storm brewing in the air and (Y/N)'s mind as she walked next to Andrew, Penelope at his side (she really didn't want to walk alongside Penelope at the moment). She had a medium cup in her hand, an oversized straw between her lips as she sucked a boba into her mouth, popping the fruity ball with her teeth. Her other hand rested in her jacket's pocket, making a fist as her nails dug into her flesh. 

        She watched as Andrew drank his own boba. He opted on going for the same order as (Y/N) did since he's never had boba before. He doesn't look displeased, so (Y/N) can only guess that he's satisfied with her order. 

        Penelope had a passionfruit slushie in her hand, strawberry and kiwi bobas mixed into her drink. Would that be considered an official and traditional boba, (Y/N) doesn't know nor does she care. She has other things to focus about. 

        (Y/N) observed Penelope's outfit. She wore a cute pink sweater with a white shirt underneath, and a blush red circle skirt with brown pumped boots. Sometimes (Y/N) felt envious of the way Penelope looks, how she can pull off an outfit like that. Whenever (Y/N) tries to wear something cute like that, it doesn't look cute, but childish. Maybe that's her mother Rose speaking, but it made it hard for her to put on outfits like that, only on special occasions such as when she greeted Andrew and helped him into her apartment; she always has an imaginary audience in public. 

        When (Y/N)'s not indulging in her feelings, loathing everything about the way Penelope walks to the way she talks and dresses, she's pondering how the hell she can get rid of Penelope before the girl yaps to someone about Andrew's existence.

        (Y/N) might've convinced Penelope that she would send an anonymous tip to the police to have Andrew arrested after leaving the hospital, but since Andrew was here in the flesh rolling alongside (Y/N), she really doubts Penelope will believe that now. She'll have to come up with another lie to keep Penelope at bay, but while she tries to conduct a new lie, she'll have to keep Penelope by her side at all times to prevent a slip-up. 

        "Here. This is my favorite sweats store." (Y/N) smiled, opening the door for Andrew and Penelope. "Have you gone here, Pen?" she questioned.

        She'll have to keep Penelope engaged in conversation so Penelope doesn't get lost in her head and come up with an excuse to leave. 

        "I can't say I have!" Penelope smiled, walking into the shop.

        "They’re great. Very comfortable.” (Y/N) spoke, entering the store.

        She tried to keep Penelope in small talk so that Penelope couldn’t leave, pretty much leaving Andrew to his devices (much to his dismay). 

        He stifled a yawn and looked at Penelope, annoyed before semi-looking around at the clothes. He was a bit tired, probably hitting a wave of afternoon sleepiness after having been shopping and grabbing lunch with the girls. Still, he couldn't help but he annoyed. 

        Just what the hell was so interesting about Penelope that (Y/N) had to stop paying attention to him?

        It was a sickening feeling, really. Even if he was an introvert, he wasn’t really used to being alone. With Ashley gone, he found himself thinking a lot more than, his thoughts seemed louder than ever—but (Y/N) helped ease those echoing voices. With Penelope around and distracting her, Andrew’s thoughts couldn’t have been more louder than ever.

        He imagined Penelope with a nail stuck between her forehead, nestled right under her bangs. Penelope looked pretty similar to that lady he killed in his old apartment using a nail gun, he’s sure he could find something lying around.

        No, that’s not good. He thought. Best just leave it be. Surely she can’t be around for too long. Eventually she'll have to go back home. 

        He can’t risk anymore attention drawn to him. Just being in a wheelchair in public makes him nervous, he’s more likely to stand out from a crowd, and he’d hate for a police officer to catch attention of him.

        By now, the police must’ve expanded the manhunt once realizing Andrew’s not in his home city. This manhunt could’ve spread to a few cities around, which means this city’s law enforcement must be up to date about his crimes and runaway. 

        Another thing that worried him is if he’s a target, then so is (Y/N). If the police know she’s with him, that could be bad. He can’t let her find out anything about him. If she turns him in, he’s screwed. If she doesn’t turn him in, then they’re both screwed. She’ll be charged with hiding a criminal, possibly even being an accomplice with the right (or for their case, wrong) detective. 

        Yeah, he didn’t like the idea of that being a possibility. 

        (Y/N) grabbed a bunch of random clothes from the hangers, not bothering to look at the sizes or patterns really, placing them down in Andrew’s lap. 

        “Here. Go try these on.” (Y/N) hummed.

        “Um… okay.” Andrew nodded, confused at her haste, but deciding to listen as he found his way to the dressing room. 

        (Y/N) waited a few seconds as Andrew entered and locked the door, before she turned her attention to Penelope. 

        “I figured we can talk more outside…” (Y/N) smiled. 

        Penelope looked over at the dressing rooms, uncertain if they should leave Andrew, before she eventually agreed. “Okay…” 

        They walked outside and looked up at the sky. It was starting to sprinkle, the sky turning dark at 11 AM from the rain clouds. It would turn out into a storm soon, that’s usually how the weather in this city goes.

        “Sorry. I just didn’t want Andrew to hear us.” (Y/N) sighed, making her way to the alley of the clothing store.

        “I don’t understand. I thought you said he was dangerous? Why are you hanging out with him? And why isn’t he in jail?” Penelope questioned almost immediately. 

        “I tried to go to the station.” (Y/N) lied, looking at the ground as small wet circles started to appear on the ground, clear crystals falling from the sky and impaling the earth. “But the police didn’t believe me. I wrote a police report and that was it. They didn’t call me or anything.” 

        “Drats…” Penelope sighed, putting her hands together.

        “It makes sense. They might’ve went a done a background check on me when doing the case. With my records, it’s no wonder why they rejected the case. They probably thought I was spouting nonsense.” (Y/N) hummed, crossing her arms. 

        “Still, they should take your case serious! Just because you’re bipolar doesn’t mean anything!” Penelope huffed, balling her fists.

        For a second, (Y/N) felt a pang of guilt lying to Penelope. Seeing Penelope so worked up on the behalf of her was almost admirable, before she pushed down those feelings.

        “Don’t worry too much. It’s just life.” (Y/N) sighed. “They’re just doing their jobs.”

        Penelope frowned, her expression showing her distaste in (Y/N)’s lie. 

        “I'm sure I can think of something quick to get rid of him." (Y/N) spoke.

        "Like what?" Penelope questioned. 

        "Well, he's a public store right now..." (Y/N) smiled. "When we leave, I can send an anonymous tip to the police station that he was here. They'll talk to the store owners and review the store's camera footage; hence proving he's in the city. That'll keep the police on their toes and look out for him. So the next time he's in public... bam! We got him!" 

        "Well... it's not the worst idea." Penelope hummed, before a smile made way on her face. "Yes! That works! Men like him shouldn't be on the streets!"

        "Problem solved." (Y/N) smiled. 

        She's officially convinced Penelope to lay off the situation. Now that Penelope is under the impression that (Y/N) secretly has everything under control, she doesn't have to worry about Penelope anymore; so long as Penelope keeps her big mouth shut.

        Still, there's always a lingering threat that Penelope could spout her mouth to the wrong person and have (Y/N)'s secret close. (Y/N) will just have to keep a close eye on her then. Penelope only talks about other people's wrongdoings, never her own.

        "But... what if he kills someone? Either tonight, or tomorrow?" Penelope spoke up. 

        "He's wheelchair bound." (Y/N) scoffed. "I'd like to see him try to run and stab a person."

        "Guns exist!" Penelope retorted.

        "If that's the case, then the police are going to be on alert." (Y/N) tried to reason convince Penelope to stay out of it, to stop thinking logically. 

        "But then we're useless!" Penelope snapped back. 

        "Excuse me?" (Y/N) questioned, offended and confused.

        "Don't you ever wonder why we do this? I mean... right now someone else could die, so the people we saved are suddenly unimportant... because we couldn't save them all..." Penelope frowned. "No matter how many people we save, whether it's 100 or 1000, it's irrelevant when we can't save just one." 

        "And?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "And it hurts!" Penelope hissed, an ugly grimace on her pretty face. "It hurts knowing we couldn't save them! It hurts knowing I couldn't of been good enough!"

        "Penelope, we are humans. We're not a God that can heal people!" (Y/N) spoke, rolling her eyes.

        "Well, I'm scared!" Penelope shouted. 

        There was a pregnant pause, the two of them staring at each other. (Y/N) stared at her with confusion, frustration, anger, and a sense of betrayal. 

        Penelope was a threat.

        "Why?" (Y/N) prompted cautiously.

        "Why? Why? Because this job sucks!" Penelope hissed, stomping her foot. "I hate our job, that's why!"

        "Why?" (Y/N) hissed, slowly starting to circle Penelope's body, before standing behind Penelope.

        Penelope turned to face (Y/N) as (Y/N) blocked her exit. (Y/N) planted herself in the middle of the alleyway, that way if Penelope tries to run, (Y/N) can stop her.

        "I'm scared! Don't you get it? We're constantly exposed to these shitty patients who just whine and whine about their fucking pain. They have the audacity to cry and cry about a broken pinkie when there's people dying alone in their hospital beds. There's homeless people from the streets looking for shelter so they purposely hurt themselves just for shelter and food! This is really the kind of reality we have?" Penelope shouted. "And all the druggies! All these assholes purposely hurting themselves so they can get prescriptions from their doctors for opoids, fucking drugged up and killing themselves for people dying who actually need that medicine!" 

        "The bedside manner! Having to act nice to these assholes that hit and shove us to where we need to have security to strap them down on the bed so they don't attack us! They verbally abuse us constantly. And we're constantly exposed to fucking unsanitary crap! Shit, blood, piss, vomit! If I have to wipe one more old man's asshole after a shit, I'll snap! We're exposed to flus, viruses, infections, all this shit that can kill us too; and people act like we're doing the bare minimum! That we're there to give them their medicine and lunch like a fast food order and that's it, oh so easy!" Penelope hissed, grabbing her hair and tugging on it, stressed out. "And their family members constantly berating us. 'took you long enough to get here' and 'can't you hear the buzzer' and shit. I have seven patients with seven different problems and seven different lives to keep alive, all piled on me 12 hours for the night and I have to make sure nothing happens to them or me! Because we're always understaffed cause nobody wants to be responsibility for another person's life and I don't blame them!"

        "We can't even date! We're gone all night so that intimacy of sleeping next to our partner's are gone! We sleep during the day and we're up at night; on our days on and off! Agatha in cardiology has a whore of a husband because while she's out at night saving lives and risking her health these strangers; he's saving his balls from being full! I feel sorry for Hannah being a single mom and a night nurse! Poor girl gets 2 hours of sleep and her kids hate her because she's always sleeping or working!" Penelope spat. "And the harassment. I'm sick of picking up towels middle-aged men purposely drop so they can get a view of my ass! I'm sick of getting groped by adults with teenage hormones! I'm sick of their constant attitude, acting like "the customer is always right" like it's a damn McDonalds! I give these damn patients more respect and care than I give myself these days! Here we are, slaving away, working 12 hours a night, driving home and disinfecting ourselves in the shower and eating freezer dinners, before getting 4 or 5 hours to sleep, then waking right up to go back and serve these entitled assholes. When's the last time one of them said 'please' or 'thank you?'" 

        "Then switch to children. Come work with me." (Y/N) reasoned. 

        "I can't! I'm scared of what I'll do!" Penelope hissed, tears welling up in her eyes.

        "Do what?" (Y/N) questioned. 

        "Because I killed them!" Penelope snapped. "I killed Barron Dixon and his mother! You know it and I know it!"

        Barron Dixon. Six years ago, he was placed in Foxlord Hospital Psychiatric branch after suffering a manic depression episode; the same hospital Penelope worked at. Penelope was Barron's night nurse, but his mother suspected something off about the nurse.

        Once Barron started developing weakness in his muscles and retrograde amnesia, not being able to recall how long he was in the hospital, his age, or his birthday; his mother grew suspicious of the nurse. Mrs. Dixon stayed overnight in the hospital, hiding in the patient's bathroom until she caught Penelope in the act. Penelope had been lacing Barron's puddings with Rohypnol, a date-rape drug that's completely odorless and tasteless; so Barron never suspected a thing. 

        The next day, Mrs. Dixon was found dead in the hospital room, stabbed 52 times with a dull object that was later identified as Penelope's key to the medicine cabinet. Barron's body was never found, but it's safe to say Penelope stole the body after cameras caught her parking her car behind the hospital and dragging a black trash bag out, throwing it into her backseat. What she does with Barron's body? (Y/N) would rather not know. 

        The only reason (Y/N) knows about Penelope keeping Barron is that Penelope weekly goes to clothing stores and buys more clothing for Barron's dead body as he rots and ruins the clothes she keeps buys. Penelope is under the impression that Barron is with her till death do both part, or at least, until she finds a new victim; hence why she's still a nurse. But it seems the guilt must be keeping up with her for her to snap like this. 

        There were no police reports regarding the incident. Foxlord was kept on close watch, but they laid Penelope off without reporting her to the police. In cases like that, having a crooked nurse destroys trust in a hospital brand, so the hospital covered up the case. In fact, the only reason (Y/N) connected the dots was looking at Penelope's resume via Treegrowth hospital computers (the hospital they currently work at).

        Sure, it was illegal looking up those documents, but everything the hospital does is illegal.

        Treegrowth hospitals do everything illegal, even the nurses and doctors are convicted criminals who've served their time in prison or are escaping the law. Penelope is a murderer who escaped the law by moving across the country. Doctor Ryan is a recovering drug addict. Ruby from dayshift is a convicted felon who murdered her ex-husbands for life insurance. (Y/N) is a nurse who previously was framed for the death of Ben Rivers, and now a current murderer for the death of Ashley Graves. All the nurses and doctors are freaks or criminals, but now she fits right in. 

        Of course, their patients are unaware that all the doctors and nurses are criminals; it gets covered up just like every other hospital case. 

        Treegrowth hospital is also famous for their organ harvesting ring! Well, infamous in the Black Market, that is. When a patient dies, they pluck up the organs and sell them; it's possible Hailey's heart and kidneys are floating around on the dark web. The ring is in connection with other hospitals nearby too, even branching out to other cities. And alias, the pyramid scheme of money laundering! While some patients donate to the "children in need" and the "patients that need liver transplants", in actuality the money is going to the imports and exports of the hospital. 

        The organ harvesting and money laundering is a department (Y/N) and Penelope have agreed to stay clear of in the hospital; but they're still just as guilty, being aware of the wrongdoings yet refusing to do anything about it. 

        Penelope stays for love. (Y/N) stays because it's her dream job, even if the job didn't choose her. 

        "I know." (Y/N) sighed. "We all know, Pen. We know you killed them, and we don't judge you for it." 

        Well, that's a lie, but it won't hurt to lie in a situation like this. 

        "I killed her because she tried to get in the way of our love. And I killed him because he didn't want my love." Penelope admitted, tears welling up in her eyes. "And I'm scared because if I do it again, how do I know I won't get away with it? I can only have so much luck before it runs out."

        "It's okay, Penelope." (Y/N) smiled. "It doesn't matter what you did in the past."

        "Will it be wrong if I do it again?" Penelope questioned. 

        (Y/N) stared blankly, surprised. How was she supposed to answer that?

        "I... what?" (Y/N) questioned, shocked. 

        "How much money will it take for you to give me Andrew?" Penelope questioned, fidgeting with her purse strap. 

        "You want... Andrew?" (Y/N) repeated, surprised.

        "When you weren't looking, I poured some Rohypnol down his boba straw. He was too busy looking at you to notice." Penelope explained. "It'll get him off the streets and out of the public, so he wouldn't hurt anyone. I'd keep him in check. Just how much for you to keep quiet?"

        A sickening feeling arose in (Y/N)'s stomach, shocked as she stared at Penelope with a blank expression. She placed her hands in her jacket's pockets, feeling around before grabbing her pocket knife. After Ren, you can never be too safe out on the streets. Honestly, she should've broke hospital protocol and keep the knife in her scrub pockets to try and prevent Ashley's attack; but now's not the time to think about that.

        "But you, just keep getting in my way. You took over as his nurse, even having the nerve to visit him constantly during our night shifts, so he was brainwashed by you, refusing for any other nurse's care and love." Penelope hissed, reaching her hand into her purse.

        That's dangerous territory. For all (Y/N) knows, Penelope could have a pocket knife too. Or she could have a gun. Hell, she can even blow some powdered Rohypnol into (Y/N)'s face, and it would blind her and it wouldn't take too long for that to knock her out. 

        "I'm really sorry. I don't mean for you to get hurt again, but love is just a wonderful feeling." Penelope smiled. "You should know, right? That's how you feel about Andrew, right? It's why you won't turn him in..."

        "Penelope, we don't have to do this." (Y/N) frowned, taking a step back for space as Penelope took a step forward.

        "There's a difference between a man and a woman who kills. A man does it for power, but a woman does it for love. All throughout history, men have killed just because, to take and take. Well, I'm tired of being the one to give and give constantly to these scum, I want to take too." Penelope spoke. "I want that love all for myself; but another woman into the equation just won't do. It doesn't matter if it's a poly or not, there will always be a duo, and there will always be a better woman. If there's no other woman, then I'm always the better woman—so you have to go." 

        "How can you even call yourself a woman if all you seek is male companionship? A real woman knows how to take care of herself on her own. You're a woman, not a child." (Y/N) spat, frustrated.

        Like she had any room to talk when all she does is sulk and puke.

        "You think you can just do what you please? There's consequences, and it'll chase you forever! Whether you're good, bad, or in between, there's always a toll to pay! Who says you can avoid it?!" (Y/N) hissed.

        "Who says you can avoid it?" Penelope questioned, before lunging at (Y/N). 

        She pulled a pocketknife out of her purse, recklessly stabbing the air before (Y/N) jumped back and pulled out her own pocket knife.

        “Penelope, stop!” (Y/N) shouted, but Penelope didn’t bother to listen.

        Penelope ran up to (Y/N) with her knife held high in the air, causing (Y/N) to use her free arm and grab Penelope’s forearm. (Y/N) stabbed her knife in Penelope’s wrist, before roughly tugging down and splitting the skin and fat in half.

        It wasn’t her first knife fight after all.

        Penelope let out a scream, dropping her own knife. (Y/N) quickly covered her mouth so nobody nearby could be alerted, before kicking Penelope over onto her back and climbing on top of her body.

        “Stupid bitch! Ungrateful! After I gave you the opportunity to just let this be too!” (Y/N) hissed, stabbing her pocket knife into Penelope’s chest, mimicking her actions with how she killed Ashley.

        “Nothing but desperate whores nowadays! Can’t you find your own man?! He wanted me first, so he’s mine!” (Y/N) snapped, grabbing Penelope’s pocketknife and holding it in her other hand, before stabbing Penelope.

        (Y/N)’s knife went into Penelope’s chest, then Penelope’s knife into Penelope’s chest, until (Y/N) dragged the knives from her chest to her stomach, gutting her open. 

        “Always hated you! I always hated you! I always knew you dragged down our team and you'd be one to quit! Nothing but a pretty face! No brains! I knew you’d pay one day, but you just had to piss. Me. Off!” (Y/N) shouted, before the knives dove into Penelope’s lifeless face.

        Die without love. Die without happiness. Die without honor. Die alone, that’s all she could think of when she looked at Penelope. Nothing but pure, unadulterated rage.

        First she takes a helpless man and his mother’s life, then she has the audacity to try and chain Andrew down to her? To try and buy him like he was a product—like he could ever be hers?

        (Y/N) panted, wiping the blood from the knives off on Penelope’s skirt. 

        The rain poured harder as (Y/N) took a second to compose herself, before letting out a groan. 

        “Jesus... What’s with all the crazy chicks now? What happened to elegance?” (Y/N) groaned, collecting rain water and rinsing her bloody hands using the water.

        She looked around for a place to hide the body. She can’t just leave the girl out in the open, especially because she's unsure if she left any evidence or DNA on Penelope, and she can’t just walk around with a dead body in her arms.

        She contemplated on a dumpster, before realizing she’s might’ve left evidence of the murder on her. She sighed, annoyed before her eyes landed on a public clothing donation box. 

        (Y/N) looked around cautiously, dropping Penelope’s purse onto the ground, before quickly picking Penelope’s lifeless body up. She opened the box’s hatch and shoved Penelope inside of the hatch, repeatedly pushing and pulling the lid before she finally sunk in with the donated clothes and shoes.

        She took off her bloodied jacket, placing it into the clothing donation. This way, it wouldn’t be suspicious if her jacket had blood or if there was any of (Y/N)’s hair on Penelope, because now everyone’s DNA from inside the clothing would be left on Penelope. It’d be nearly impossible for the police to track (Y/N) down once the donation truck comes to collect the clothes. 

        (Y/N) could almost laugh at her luck. In fact, she did laugh. She dedicated a moment to laugh about what just happened; about Penelope slipping a drug into Andrew's drink without her knowing, about having to kill her co-worker, about shedding yet another person's blood on her hands.

        The bodies just keep piling up. 

        (Y/N) looked over at the purse Penelope left. She wiped the rain from her face and crouched down to the ground, opening the purse and looking inside. There was Penelope's phone, her pink wallet, a small bottle of Ibuprofen, her make-up pouch, and perfume.

        (Y/N) picked up the perfume bottle and scoffed. 

        Ah, a woman's beauty is another's poison. (Y/N) thought, thinking back to Ashley, before placing the perfume bottle back into the purse. 

        She looked closer into the purse before spotting a hidden pocket. She unzipped the pocket and found a small box of Rohypnol. She also found a small snack-sized bag of white powder, which must've been crushed Rohypnol tablets. 

        (Y/N) contemplated what she should do with those. In one hand, she’s a bit uncertain leaving the drugs in Penelope’s purse considering just anyone can steal them; and she’d rather not have someone with bad intentions take them. On another hand, she didn’t want to carry date-rape drugs, even if their intended use is for helping with insomnia.

        (Y/N) sighed, before pocketing the bag and box of tablets into her own purse. She’ll just keep it for insomnia, like how it should be used for.

        (Y/N) closed Penelope's purse and grabbed her pocketknife instead. Her pocketknife was a plain one with a black handle, she never thought of personalizing her own pocketknife, she never wanted it to be traced back to her. (Y/N) washed off the pocketknife where the blood that didn't wipe off on Penelope's skirt was left, then folded down the blade and pocketed the knife. She glanced over at Penelope's pocketknife and admired it. 

        It was a regular blade, but the handle was beautiful. It was a rose gold with a small, plastic red rose on the center of the handle meeting the blade. (Y/N) folded down the blade and tapped it against her palm, thinking before ultimately deciding to keep it.

        It’s not like Penelope would be able to use it anymore, and it’d be a shame to throw out a pretty knife.

        She walked back into the store after double-checking there was no blood on her. Once she walked into the store, she looked around for Andrew, before realizing he might be unconscious in the fitting room. 

        She walked to the fitting rooms and knocked on the one she remembered him going into. After hearing no reply, she figured the Rohypnol kicked in and opened the door.

        Andrew sat in his wheelchair, a black sweatshirt on him that belonged to the store as his head laid tilted to the side at what she can only assume is an uncomfortable angle for his neck. 

        (Y/N) smiled, relieved to see him alright and relatively unharmed. 

        She had saved him.

        (Y/N) walked in and closed the door behind her, sorting out all the random sweatshirts she threw at Andrew earlier. She grabbed the dark and monochrome ones in his size that fit, and placed the rest in a neat, folded pile. 

        She walked over to Andrew and gently shook him, though she really wasn’t expecting a reaction. After receiving no response, she removed the sweatshirt he tried on and replaced it with his old sweater. 

        She placed the sweatshirt in the pile with the ones she intended to buy, then looked at herself in the mirror. 

        She was soaked from the rain, and her hair was covering her face like a wet dog. Her face looked pale, and she could still feel her heart trying to calm itself after her previous attack. Her nerves were going haywire as adrenaline pumped in her veins.

        Two attempted murders in one week. (Y/N) thought, sighing. Not only that, but if I kill another person this month, I’ll be an official serial killer.

        She moved her hair out of her eyes and sighed. She looked over and Andrew and took note of his sleeping face.

        She’s never gotten the opportunity to see him up close like this. Sure, she slept next to him last night, but she didn’t bother admiring him much; she was more focused on going to bed and having her parents leave her apartment in the morning.

        (Y/N) reached her hand out, noticing how her hands trembled as she placed her hand on his hair.

        It was surprisingly soft, shocking considering how messy and uncoordinated his hair was. Her palm went lower as it rested on his cheek, her thumb tracing a soft line under his eyes.

        She always thought he had pretty eyes. Even with his eyes closed right now, she can still picture the vibrant green of them inside her head. His eyes were hooded and there were eyebags under their eyes, but those bags were far less present than the ones he had when he first arrived at the hospital, so he’s been catching up on his sleep.

        Her eyes trailed down to his lips, her palm following as her thumb rested on his chin, just shy under his bottom lip. He had pale, thin lips, but she recalled him having a lovely smile and a confident smirk. 

        She could feel his slow, constant breaths, relaxed from the Rohypnol. 

        She felt how warm he was compared to her and couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around him, seeking out his warmth.

        God, that feels so good. (Y/N) mentally sighed, melting into his chest. 

        Her posture felt uncomfortable hunching over him, so she got on her knees and continued to hug him.

        His body heat was a wonderful contrast to the cold rain outside as Mother Nature kept punishing the city. It felt even better than last night, and it felt almost like a reward for protecting him from Penelope. 

        (Y/N) smiled, embracing the warmth as she left out a contented breath. She cradled his face and closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his, a gesture that would've been intimate if he was awake. 

        Right. He's still unconscious... (Y/N) thought, opening her eyes as she re-evaluated the situation.

        "Oh, God. What am I doing?" (Y/N) whispered, a pang of disgust and even fear seeping into her chest.

        (Y/N) forced herself up from the ground, letting go of Andrew and sitting down on the fitting room bench. 

        Am I just as bad as her? (Y/N) questioned.

        She's killed two people just like Penelope did. Is she Penelope in this situation? Is Penelope Mrs. Dixon in this situation; trying to break them apart? Is Andrew Barron in this situation; just caught in the crossfire?

        Will he die from her too? 

        Will he upset her just enough to where she'll snap again? 

        (Y/N) didn't want to know the answer to that. She stood up and opened the fitting room door, wheeling Andrew out of the room and walking to the cashier with him in toll. 

        She grabbed two grey jackets on her way out, one to replace the one she had to throw away, and the other to keep Andrew dry from the rain outside. She grabbed a few sweatpants in Andrew's size too, just to make sure he has enough. She walked to the cashier and stood in line, before checking out.

        "Sorry, he just has a little sugar crash, so he's taking his afternoon nap. I kept him out too long, haha!" (Y/N) laughed, smiling when the cashier questioned if Andrew was alright. 

        She wheeled Andrew to the front door, before grabbing one of the jackets she bought and putting it on Andrew, flipping the hood up so he'll stay dry from the rain, then doing the same with herself using the other jacket she bought. She exited the store and mustered up all the strength she could, dragging Andrew into the passenger seat and buckling him up. She folded his wheelchair and put it in the backseat along with the shopping bags before hopping into the car. 

        I'll go get groceries tomorrow instead. (Y/N) thought, looking over at Andrew as she buckled her seatbelt.

        She turned the radio on a random jazz channel, keeping the volume low so it wouldn't disturb Andrew in case he woke up from the noise, and she drove back to her apartment. 

        Once arriving, she took the time to grab her kitchen knife Ashley stabbed her with, along with Ashley's gun and her strange occult charm. She threw the knife in her sink and washed it, then placed Ashley's gun and occult charm in her bedside drawer along with Penelope's Rohypnol and pocketknife, hiding them there. She then managed to retrieve and drag Andrew up her apartment complex steps and unlock her front door, entering the apartment and dragging him to their bedroom. She placed him on their bed and took off his shoes and socks, tucking him into bed. She almost contemplated giving him a goodnight kiss, but not even she was crazy enough to do that. 

        She took off her shoes and was about to change into her pajamas when her phone rang. (Y/N) immediately lunged for her phone, grabbing it and accepting the call before Andrew could wake up.

        "Hello?" she whispered, exiting the bedroom and walking to the living room where she could speak louder.

        "Hello, this is Starworth Hospital. Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?" a woman's voice questioned.

        Starworth Hospital? (Y/N) thought.

        She's not familiar with that hospital, it must be one far away from her. What are they doing calling her?

        "This is her." (Y/N) hummed. "Can I help you?"

        "We regret to inform you that Mr. Frank (L/N) and Mrs. Rose (L/N) have passed away in a car accident."

        "P-passed away? What do you mean they're dead?" (Y/N) questioned, shocked.

        "They were deceased upon arrival. They were involved in a car accident at a gas station and were unfortunately unidentifiable; however Starworth County Police were able to identify them using the surveillance cameras and transactions made at the counter." The woman spoke, as if she was speaking with a paper in front of her face. "You were listed as their daughter under their emergency contacts. We're sorry for your loss." 

        (Y/N)'s heart dropped, spiraling into confusion, pain, and guilt.

        "Is... is there anything I have to do?" (Y/N) questioned. "Do I need to drive over there or... or anything?" 

        "Usually we would request you to come and identify the body, but I don't believe that's possible considering they have third-degree burns and are burnt to a crisp." The woman spoke. "The car crashed into the fuel station right next to them while they were refueling their car."

        Ouch. Talk about breaking the news lightly. 

        "A bill will be sent to you in three weeks. You can use our website to pay once receiving the bill, there will be a QR code to scan." The woman explained. 

        "Excuse me? Pay for what?" (Y/N) scoffed. "You didn't do anything! You said they were dead once arriving to the hospital!" 

        "Someone has to pay for the ambulance." The woman responded. 

        "Yeah? You can take that bill and shove it up your—" there was an audible click, the woman hanging up.

        Well, now she knows how her patient's families feel.

        "You stupid fucking cunt!" she hissed, grabbing her living room vase and flowers.

        She was about to throw the vase against the ground, but remembered Andrew was just next door in her bedroom. She carefully placed the vase down, grabbed her shoes and keys, and exited her apartment, locking the door behind her. She hopped into her car and slammed the gas, reckless swerving out of the parking and speeding down the roads. It took her an hour before she spotted the familiar sight of the forest amongst the heavy rainfall. 

        She parked her car and stormed out into the forest, not bothering to grab a flashlight despite how dark it was. (Y/N) trudged through the heavy mud forming on the ground as she shoved bushes and tree branches violently out of her way. She finally made it to Ashley's gravesite, recognizing the scenery as she looked down at the ground. 

        "Is this your doing?" she shouted. "Is this your damn demon buddy? Was you dying apart of your contract with them or something? Is this you trying to get back at me? You stupid bitch, answer me!" 

        She stared at the ground, waiting for a response. Waiting for a pale hand to shoot its way up from the ground, or a giggle, or anything—but as always, she received nothing good. Nothing that told her Ashley was here. 

        (Y/N) grabbed her hair and tugged the ends violently, frustrated. 

        "Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" she screamed, ripping a few strands of her hair out until her head ached and a headache formed. "I can't! I can't!" she shouted, crouching down on the ground.

        "Why can't you just leave me alone?! Why can't everyone just leave me alone?!" (Y/N) cried out, a few tears escaping her eyes before she started sobbing.

        "I'm sorry, Ashley. I'm sorry." She sobbed. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to lash out. I didn't mean to kill you, or Penelope, or Ben, or mama and papa or anyone. I just wanted to be something bigger and better than myself, but I can't even do that. Not even a job or a lover or a friend." 

        It hurt, it hurt worse than any stab wound or cut or pill she could endure. Her chest ached, her stomach felt sick, her throat burned, her eyes felt tired, her nose was stuffy, her leg ached from her injury, her arms stung from her injury and self-inflicted cuts, her mind throbbed, and her heart ached. 

        Whatever excuse she tries to put it, it's still her fault in the end. It'll always be her fault. 

        "Please, just make it stop..." she cried. "Haven't I given enough? Haven't I atoned enough? Haven't I saved enough? Haven't I hurt enough? Why isn't it enough? Why isn't anything enough?"

        It's too much. It's too much. It's too much. It's too much. It's too much.

        She stopped crouching, rising up as she walked further in the woods, finding the forest path and following it as the rain punished her back and the thunder scolded her. 

        She made her way until the ground reflected with the lightning in the sky. She had reached the forest's lake. 

        She sat down on a wet bench that showed a scenic view of the lake, but she wasn't concerned about the lake. 

        She thought about that small room she grew up in alone, affection-starved, and hungry; a punishment for being born.

        She thought about all those times she was shoved up against school lockers, or tripped in class, or wads of gum stuck in her hair; a punishment for being a freak.

        She thought about those hospital walls, the numerous markings on her wrists, the empty pill bottles scattered around; a punishment for wanting death. 

        She thought about that courtroom, about being sentenced guilty, and those days she spent starving herself and force-fed through a tube in jail; a punishment for having Ren love her.

        She thought about escaping Ren, about living in her car homeless as she tried to make ends meet; a punishment for wanting freedom.

        She thought about receiving that sketchy email from Treegrowth Hospital, meeting Doctor Ryan and Penelope, and Hailey and many many other patients dying; a punishment for following her dreams.

        She thought about that first spray of perfume to Ashley's eyes so she could blind her, that first stab into Penelope's wrist so she could harm her; a punishment for standing up for herself.

        And now, the rain punishes her back for standing out here alone, and Mother Nature weeps with her as she cries. 

        Sometimes, it still feels like she's trapped inside that room; except this time, she's the one that locked herself in it. 

        She stood up from the bench, walking to the edge of the lake, and stepping a foot in. The water was freezing and cold, but what it promises makes her feel warm. She took another step, walking deeper as it reached her knees. Soon it reached her hips as she looked up at the moon, witnessing her ultimate—and hopefully final—death. 

        She looked at the trees, watching as lightning lit the sky and showed the vibrant green of the forest.

        There was a picture shoved in front of her eyes, an image of a male with black hair and vibrant green eyes, a soft look in his eyes as he held her tight, whispering to her.

        (“That video showed Hailey saying that she wanted you to get better, right?”) he spoke, his hands cradling her face as his thumbs wiped the tears from her face. ("She knew you weren’t feeling good, even when she wasn't doing good herself She cares about your health. Do you think crying would make her happy?”)

        The image changed to them on her bed watching a movie on TV, his arm around her shoulder as her head rested on his chest naturally. It provided a sensation she never felt before, one that burned her chest, but it didn't hurt for once. It felt soothing, comfortable, and she couldn't help but want more.

        Andrew.

        "Andrew!" she gasped, before being submerged under water at a steep drop.

        She quickly swam back up to the surface, coughing and spitting out the water she swallowed, before peddling back to the edge of the lake, crawling out and lying down on the ground, coughing and panting as she stared at the stars as they laughed at her.

        She didn't care about their mockery though.

        I want Andrew. She thought, forcing herself up off the ground.

        The autumn air mauled her skin as she ran, ignoring the ache in her leg as she followed the path and got off track, running back to her car.  She hopped in the driver's seat and started the car, speeding out of the forest. 

        She'll pay a visit later and apologize to Ashley, but right now she didn't want Ashley, she wanted Andrew. 

        She sped back to her apartment, an hour drive taking 30 minutes as she speeded. She made it back and parked her car, almost tripping on the steps from her haste as she almost broke off her key in the keyhole. She practically ripped the front door open, her eyes meeting with Andrew's panicked ones.

        He was out of his wheelchair, no crutches in sight as he leaned against the couch, tears falling down from his eyes. Every door in the house was open, and every light was on along with pillows and blankets scattered on the living room floor. It looked like he was trying to find her. 

        "(Y/N)!" he exclaimed, out of breath and panting, seeming to have had his own episode himself. 

        "Andrew!" she smiled, glad to see him awake and well.

        (Y/N) shut the door behind her, locking it before rushing over and running into Andrew's arms. He stumbled before falling back, but luckily he fell onto the couch. He didn't hesitate in reciprocating her hug as he wrapped his arms tightly around hers. 

        "(Y/N), where the hell were you?! I don't remember falling asleep or coming back home but I had a nightmare and—Jesus, you're so cold and wet." He spoke, lifting her legs up and placing her down in his lap. "Baby, what happened? Where were you? It's dark and raining outside, what were you thinking?"

        "Oh, Andrew. It's been so terrible." She cried, pressing her forehead against his. "I-I feel so terrible and lost. I'm so scared. My parents died and she's dead too and—" she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tighter as she nuzzled her head in his neck. "Please don't leave me too. I need you, Andrew."

        Andrew's heart broke and mended at the same time. Seeing her crying and scared hurt, but seeing her need him felt better. 

        "It's okay... I won't leave you. I'm right here." Andrew breathed out, calming down as his arms held her waist, pulling her tightly against him as he shared his warmth with her.

        Suddenly, his nightmare felt almost silly in comparison to seeing her like this. Just like when she was in the hospital with him, he felt bad seeing her like this. It felt like a foreign sight seeing tears fall down her cheeks. 

        "Hey, you're really cold right now. C'mon, let's go get you warmed up." Andrew spoke, his hands rubbing up and down her arms to try and warm her up, though her wet jacket blocked the touch.

        (Y/N) nodded and stood up from his lap, a feeling of annoyance creeping up on his immediately after. He wished his legs could just heal up faster, he hates having to rely on her so much, he wants her to rely on him for a change.

        He wanted his legs to go back to normal so he could be able to carry her without having to have her get off his lap. He wanted to be able to walk side by side with her and hold hands while doing so. He wanted to help her reach the high shelves in the supermarket. 

        He hated having to look up at her to talk or speak, it was a blow to his ego and felt insulting to his masculinity. He wanted to be able to look down at her for once.

        Andrew got up and led (Y/N) to the bathroom, turning on the warm water and setting out a towel for her. (Y/N) went and grabbed a nightgown from her closet along with a sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants she bought Andrew today, coming back and resting them next to the towel. 

        "What's that for?" Andrew questioned, noticing the extra outfit just as he turned off the bathtub faucet. 

        "Why don't you stay with me again tonight?" (Y/N) suggested, swallowing her nerves. "I'd rather not be alone tonight... and you said you had a nightmare. We can comfort each other."

        Andrew's eyes widen, a rare blush dusting his cheeks as he looked at her surprised. He looked over at the bathtub, before back at her. 

        "Y-you mean... you wanna bathe together?" he questioned. "And sleep together willingly?" 

        "Jeez, you make it sound like I'm asking you for 1,000 bucks." (Y/N) sighed, crossing her arms, ignoring the cold shiver that went down her spine. 

        Oh no, this was much more than 1,000 bucks. This was priceless. If anything, he should be paying her for this. 

        "Only if you want to though. You don't have to feel pressured or anything, I don't want you to feel pressured because you're living with me. I'd feel bad if you were uncomfortable with this..." (Y/N) spoke, adverting her eyes from his.

        "Oh, honey. I'm far from uncomfortable. That's lightyears away." He chuckled, causing a smile to form on her face.

        "Well, that's good to know at least..." she smiled.

        "C'mere." He spoke, reaching out and grabbing her waist, pulling her flush against him. "So, you gonna help me change now?" he questioned, smirking as he asked her that question for the second time today.

        "You're insufferable." (Y/N) giggled.

        "Worth a shot." He shrugged, smirking. 

        He let go of her waist, much to her disappointment, and grabbed the hem of his jacket (Y/N) put on him earlier while he was asleep, lifting it up before she quickly adverted her eyes.

        "Hey!" she exclaimed, her body turning 180 degrees as she covered her eyes. "Y-you can't just do that in front of me!"

        "Oh, so you get flustered about seeing me undress but not asking me to bathe with you?" Andrew laughed, a genuine one as he undressed. 

        "Leave me alone..." (Y/N) muttered, suddenly feeling nervous about the situation at hand. 

        There was a moment of doubt, but it was washed away as she heard a splash from behind her. 

        "The water is warm. No need to be shy." Andrew spoke. 

        She could practically see his wolfish grin.

        "Can't you close your eyes?" (Y/N) huffed, turning her head towards him carefully, a mixture of gratitude and disappointment to seeing nothing exposed of him in the bathtub.

        "If that's what makes you comfortable." He sighed, pretending to act like it was a big deal when it wasn't. 

        "Wait, here..." (Y/N) spoke, reaching into her bathroom cabinet and pulling out a bottle.

        "Bubbles?" Andrew questioned, reading the label as she handed it to him. "Strawberry scented too. Yummy." 

        "Don't eat it." (Y/N) huffed.

        "I won't. Promise." He smiled. "I have a better snack here in front of me. A whole course meal." 

        His words caused her cheeks to flare up as she looked away from him.

        "Just get those bubbles made... yeah?" she hummed. "And don't look." 

        "Jokes on you, I know what reverse psychology is. You want me to look." Andrew teased.

        "Andrew!" (Y/N) whined. 

        "Okay! I promise I won't look." He spoke, his fingers crossed behind his back. 

        He turned back on the faucet and poured some bubble formula into the stream as she undressed, though he stole many glances with zero shame. He was only a man after all, but he could control himself. 

        "Okay..." (Y/N) spoke, removing her socks and undoing her bandages on her arms and leg.

        "Ready?" Andrew hummed, closing his eyes again. 

        "Yeah." She nodded.

        She turned around and looked at the slightly-pink foam from the bubbles, before looking at Andrew to make sure his eyes were closed. When she confirmed they were closed, she entered the bathtub and sat down in front of Andrew, her back facing him as her leg hung over the edge to prevent her stitches from being wet. 

        "I'm in. You can open your eyes now." (Y/N) sighed.

        "You sure look comfortable." Andrew chuckled gesturing to her leg. 

        "You should be doing this too. You still have stitches on your ankles." (Y/N) retorted.

        "You're such a worrywart." Andrew teased.

        "They could get infected." She bit back.

        "Well, it's a good thing I live with a cute nurse." Andrew smiled. 

        Her heart stammered at his compliment, she tilted her head to look back at him. 

        "Liar." She muttered under her breath.

        Andrew heard her and smiled, amused. His arms reached out and wrapped around her waist, before pulling her back into his chest.

        "H-hey! What are you doing?!" she gasped, feeling his warmth directly behind her. 

        "Don't worry so much, pretty. It causes wrinkles." He teased.

        "Well, I didn't know my looks were the only thing important about me." She huffed, her hands nervous settling on his.

        "You sure know how to bite back at everything I say, huh?" he sighed, albeit the smile on his face showed how much he enjoyed their little bickers. 

        His thumbs played with her hips, drawing circles on them as (Y/N) relaxed her head on his chest, the scent of strawberries in the air calming her down.

        "Should've brought my speaker in here and played some music." (Y/N) sighed. 

        "How romantic." He chuckled. "I can just hear George Michael singing 'Careless Whisper' to me right now." 

        "Classy." She hummed sarcastically.

        "What? Don't like his song?" Andrew questioned.

        "No, I'm really hearing Jo Stafford right now." (Y/N) chuckled. 

        "Ew. Oldies." Andrew teased, before musing over it. "...What song?"

        "'I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm' sounds really fitting right now." She hummed thoughtfully.

        "So I'm your love?" he inquired, a playfully smirk on his face.

        His hand reached up and held her cheek, tilting her head towards him more. He pressed his forehead against her intimately, looking into her eyes with this fond expression on his face, one she could hardly believe was real. She reached her hand out and held his wrist, smiling.

        "Well, you did meet my parents..." she hummed, before a pang ached her heart, remembering her parents' death, though she hid that thought in the back of her mind.

        Andrew looked down and noticed the lines on her arm, his smile dropping. "Hey..."

        Shit, (Y/N) mentally scolded herself, her arm dropping.

        She just had to lift that one up. 

        "Hey." He spoke, his voice more firmer as he gripped her wrist tighter to prevent her from hiding her arm. "What's this?"

        "It's nothing." She lied.

        "What's this?" he said firmer, his eyes hardening as he looked down at her.

        "Nothing, I was just being stupid!" she snipped back, trying to grab her arm back. 

        "(Y/N). (Y/N), stop." He huffed, fighting her for her arm as she failed at hiding it. 

        "Drop it." She spoke defensively, tears welling up in her eyes.

        "(Y/N), honey." Andrew sighed, his gentle voice making her melt as she resisted fighting. "Baby, these are fresh. What happened?"

        "They're from yesterday." She corrected.

        "Stop avoiding the question. It's still fresh." He huffed. "What happened?"

        "I can't..." she muttered, looking away from him shamefully as the tears from her eyes fell.

        "C'mon, don't cry." Andrew mumbled, dropping her arm as both of his hands cradled her face. "We talked about crying; it's not pretty on you."

        "I can't help it." She sniffled.

        "So let me help." He hummed, his thumbs wiping away the tears. "What's been going on?"

        "A lot." She spoke.

        "Don't be vague. Speak." Andrew spoke, before noticing her hesitation. "I only wanna help you, baby. I don't like seeing you hurt." 

   "I don't wanna tell you yet..." (Y/N) muttered. "You won't like me anymore."

        "Honey, I'll still like you no matter what." He smiled reassuringly. "You don't gotta worry about silly things like that."

        "I-I still don't wan-na tell you yet..." she hiccuped as he wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.

        "Fine..." he sighed, a bit disappointed but not wanting to pry into her business. "Then tell me when you're ready, yeah?"��

        "Okay..." she nodded.

        "But can you at least promise me you'll stop this?" he spoke, his eyes trailing down to her arm to gesture to it.

        "I can't promise that." She frowned. "It just... happens sometimes." 

        "Well then come to me." He spoke. "I'll help you."

        She adverted her eyes, feeling guilty for making him worry.

        "I'm sorry..." She muttered.

        "I'm sorry too." He mumbled.

        "For what?" she questioned.

        "For not being there for you." He spoke. 

        "Andrew, you've barely known me for a week now." She sighed. 

        "So? I'm bathing with you right now. I get to eat meals with you and I get to shop with you and sleep with you at night." He spoke, before smiling. "We're dating now, remember?" he teased, recalling the words she used yesterday to try and explain their fake relationship.

        "Y-you really believe it?" she questioned, surprised. "You really wanna... you know...?"

        "I don't think I'd be here in the tub with you right now if I didn't." He chuckled, before pressing his nose against hers. "Yeah, I wanna be with you. I wanna always be with you." 

        "You can't possibly always be there for me." She pointed out, pouting.

        "But I wanna." He admitted. "I wanna always be there for you. I need you." 

        Her heart stammered as she looked away from him, nervous. The air was hot and humid, and the heavy scent of strawberries practically drowned her; but she wouldn't want this any other way.

        "You're stupid..." she mumbled, her finally defense being let down.

        "Stupid for you~" he cooed teasingly, coaxing a giggle out of her. 

        His eyes softened as he watched her laugh. One of his thumbs rubbing circles on her flared cheeks as his other hovered next to her bottom lip.

        "You have a pretty laugh." He commented, his eyes watching her lips before meeting her eyes. "And you have a pretty smile. Keep smiling for me, yeah?"

        "You have pretty eyes." She hummed. "Green like Mother Nature; nurturing." 

        "How poetic." He chuckled, smiling. 

        "I really like you, you know." (Y/N) admitted, her arms reaching up and grabbing his wrists, drawing small circles on them. 

        "Like me enough for a kiss?" he teased, although he was hopefully.

        "You want one?" she questioned. 

        "Well, I certainly wouldn't mind." He purred. 

        She giggled, before moving her face closer to his, her eyes looking at his endearingly before they looked down at his lips.

        "I've... never actually kissed anyone before..." she admitted. "So forgive me if I'm bad."        

        "I doubt anything could be bad with you." He hummed. 

        She smiled, raising her hands to rest on his cheeks, before holding her breath and kissing his lips. 

        It was short, sweet, and sincere. It's a serendipity that he managed to live and stumble into her hospital, and get assigned to her specifically despite being in a separate hospital branch, otherwise this might've never happened. She has him spellbound; and vise versa.

        She parted her lips from his, nervous as a hesitant smile resting on her face, yet she still smiled for him. 

        "So...?" she inquired. "How was that?"

        He hummed, pretending to muse, before quickly bending down and stealing another quick kiss from him.

        "Hey!" she gasped, flustered. "We agreed on one kiss!"

        "My mouth slipped." He lied, causing a chuckle to escape her lips.

        "Liar." She laughed.

        "It was perfect." He smiled. "You're perfect."

        "Now you're really lying." She scoffed playfully.

        "I'm extremely serious." He hummed, before lifting his hands. "See? My fingers aren't crossed."

        "Oh, then I guess you must be telling the truth." She hummed sarcastically. 

        "I am." He hummed, watching as she rested her head back down on his chest.

        They stayed quiet for a few minutes, before he spoke up.

        "Feeling better?" he questioned.

        "I'm on Cloud 9." She sighed, before adding. "And I changed my mind. It feels more like '(They Long to Be) Close to You.' that's by The Carpenters"

        Andrew chuckled, smiling. "Well I change mine too."

        "What do you change it to?" she questioned. 

        "'Unforgettable.' Nat Cole." He spoke. "Because you're unforgettable." He cooed, resting his head on her shoulder. 

        "Dummy." She smiled, closing her eyes and enjoying his warmth.

        This is what she longed to come home to every night. This was something worth living for.

        "You wanna get out now? Get to bed?" Andrew questioned.

        "Five minutes more." She smiled, quoting Frank Sinatra. "I'm comfortable..."

And chapter 8 is finished! I've concluded that the series is coming to the end soon, we have about one or two more chapters left! Don't be down though, there will still be more Andrew content and you guys get to vote for the next series once Star Patient is done!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, current chapter, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

[vermilionsun]

Okay, so we basically know very little/nothing, but I compiled everything I could find here :)

TW for religius themes [?]

Strap in

First of all, we know two definite Gods: the Allmother and Ocudeus.

The Allmother seems to be a benevolent deity that protects her believers. We can assume that since mr. Chocky was wishing upon her for mercy during the Soulless’ attack on the caravan and he was the only one not dying at that point (The Soulless kills him only after the MC’s curse has taken control of him).

Plus, the (Oracle! has the extra —[text]—) MC comments:

Is she the one who made the Soulless kill the traveller to save the MC? And cut their arms off to end their misery? Could she be protecting them?

Or did she not want her subject [the traveller] to suffer due to the MC's curse?

Was everything random and out of her control?

And that's basically everything we know about the Allmother.

Then we have Ocudeus. This ancient motherfucker— I had to rewind the damn game for this tentacle bitch again.

Anyway, we know he's the ancient, eldritch being Ais has formed a pact with" that gives him "borrowed, unnerving abilities."

Also, it is suspected that its name is likely from Latin oculus and deus ("eye" and "god") + that "Ocu" also means water in Betoi.

Now, onto the funny stuff: (Oracle!MC is the only one who comments on these)

The MC can hear a heartbeat the moment they step out of Kuras' clinic

And it gets louder the closer they get to the Seaspring

The MC can literally feel Ocudeus watching them from the Seaspring. What's interesting is that they find it familiar

Ais warns the MC about "ruining the host's mood" [Could be interpreted as: "I'm (Ais) nice, but you don't want to ruin the host's (Ocudeus, who propably lives in the waters of the Seaspring) mood (by asking questions regarding its power and questioning its dominance/control over me)] — As if Ocudeus itself invited them over; that would explain how that lady knew the MC's name:

Either Ocudeus wanted to see them or it wanted to be fed tea leaves by Ais and felt it was nescessary to brought someone over for Ais to clean the damn temple once in a whie—

IN REGARDS TO AIS' RELATIONSHIP WITH OCUDEUS

The MC's eyes always return to the mark, and only explanation left is that it was made by Ocudeus

WAIT. Pause and backtract to the Seaspring

Let's break them down:

1. The topmost

2. The closest one

3. The bottommost

"ucly dpzo vu h zovvapun zahy ol'z hsdhfz spzalupun." - Both with Affine [A=1, B=7] and Mono-alphabetic Substitution (+10 other cyphers) it's the same message: NEVER WISH ON A SHOOTING STAR HE'S ALWAYS LISTENING

Since the notes are left there by people who have evidently drank from the Seaspring (“If you see me, never speak to me,” etc) I will take a wild guess and assume the bottomest note is Ais’ last moments before Ocudeus merged with him.

And also this ties with the whole “Ocudeus is a fallen god” (“shooting/fallen star”) who left the Shroud ignorant about the world beyond and ended up landing to Eridia

"A river bisects Eridia into two distinct halves: the flood-eroded districts of Lowtown, and the elevated, gilded city of Hightown." — Eridia's a river city and Ocudeus is a giant fucking octopus.

ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇˡʸ ᵍᵒ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍˀ :⁾⁾

What I find interesting though is that if the note is truly by Ais, he mentions mirrors and eyes. He must have been trying to hide from something—Ocudeus or another deity?—that “knew what he did,” and let Ocudeus overtake him as a last resort, perhaps.

BUT WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THE MIRRORS?!?!?!

THERE IS NOT ONE (1) MIRROR IN THE WHOLE DEMO. NOR IN THE PROMOS. NOT ONE. [unless I'm blind]

Sure, it could be the surface of the water and the whole thing is metaphoricall but it bugs me so muchhhhh

kuras Kuras KURAS KURAS KURAS KURAS

Recently, it was revealed that he, indeed, came out of the Shroud THOUSANDS OF YEARS BEFORE THE FOGFALL OCCURED

And I bring you a background issue:

"An angel is a heavenly supernatural or spiritual being. In monotheistic belief-systems, such beings are under service of the supreme deity (i.e. God)."

Is he autonomous or does he worship a god? And if so, WHICH GOD?!

Perhaps, and take that with a grain of salt, perhaps Allmother

[Does anyone see a pattern? 'Cause I do]

What if Kuras' greatest sin was leaving the Shroud?

Kuras came through the Shroud because he loved humanity. He's had human friends, colleagues, and lovers...

Their incorporeal spirits take physical form, strengthening some and weakening others. The longer they spend in the human world, the better they adapt.

Kuras loved humanity so much he up and left the Shroud and gifted humans all the knowledge he possessed. He risked his power - perhaps his life - as he travelled through.

And so I ask you; Is that his biggest regret? Him loving humans to the extend of abandoning the Shroud and his creator for a life of teaching them, only for his efforts to result in "trinkets, pleasure, and petty tyranny"?

And lastly, Vere

I want you to keep an open mind with this

We know from his character lore that

"Centuries ago, the Senobium bound a wicked beast with a magic collar, sealing his powers and forcing his obedience."

and we know Vere has lived for over a century

BUT THE THING IS: ancient ≠ century [also mentioned here]

WHAT IF

"Seems we're both cursed"

What if Vere used to be human and attempted to take the ancient beast's power [remember, his fatal flaw: "Lusts for power, no matter the consequences"]

He obviously succeeded and became what he is now, while simultaniously getting chained for one reason or another;

The Senobium obviously sees him as a threat but uses him for his abilities anyways

Prehaps he couldn't control the power he gained?

He could have been a theif wanting a better life, like the Hound!MC

He could have been affiliated with the Senobium in another way before

But we know one thing for sure:

He, too, was betrayed and caused havoc unintentionally

Perhaps in regard to the beast's powers?

[luckycharms1701]

Oh, please, I must know now… Donnie during mating season??? :D I’m loving ur writings about this :)

alright you thirsty purple fans, it’s time!

sidenote: i am. so glad. that people are enjoying these. they’re a lot of fun to write!

double sidenote: i have added a link to my masterpost to all my bayverse mating season headcanons! you can also find them here

sooooo donnie. he's a freak in the sheets, you cannot change my mind. so especially strong spicy warning for this one 🌶️

Donnie is extremely matter of fact about mating season. The first time he brings it up with you, he’s more nervous about your answer than he is shy about explaining what it entails. (You couldn’t hear the words, but you did hear him muttering to himself before he came up to ask you. You suspect it was a pep talk.) He is very thorough when explaining mating season in general and how it affects him in particular. You are grateful and also a little turned on by the time he’s done.

Before you were in the picture, Donnie used to work himself until his system overloaded and he passed out during this time. Now he finds himself working a lot less, because he has you to focus on. He appreciates that you make him spend more time on leisure and don’t let him overwork himself. He also appreciates that you do let him work at least a little when the desire hits. Getting to cuddle with you is a surefire way to get him to rest when he needs it though. As long as you’re nearby, he’s happy to do whatever.

Donnie is a talker in general, but it gets ramped up to 100 when it’s his season. Unless his mouth is busy doing… other things… it’s basically a 24/7 stream of consciousness fest. Mostly it’s about you. How much he loves you, what in particular he loves about you, how exactly he wants to make love to you. His morning star, his starlight, his celestial beauty. Sometimes, though, he’ll interrupt himself to talk about something that just occurred to him about one of his projects. It never fails to pull a laugh out of you and make him rub the back of his neck in (adorable) embarrassment.

He enjoys physical affection and often seeks it out from you, and this holds true during his season. He won’t whine or get grumpy if you don’t want to be touching him all the time (*cough* like his brothers will *cough*), but he does prefer if you’re in contact with him somehow. He enjoys watching movies with your head on his lap and your hand in his. He especially likes it when you're on top of him.

Donnie is used to just taking care of himself whenever necessary, AND he is used to handling delicate things during his season. So there is a lot of gentle manhandling when the time comes. You can't do anything particularly engaging because he will come up and interrupt you whenever to have sex. IF you are wearing clothes at all (not often), you cannot wear underwear or pants, at most a skirt. That way he can just lift it up and enter you whenever the urge hits. He is especially fond of doing this when you're sitting on his lap while he's working (... "daddy's little cockwarmer").

Having you around does not mean that all of his toys go unused, oh no. He is very considerate, and would rather resort to them when you're getting rest. (He got your permission to stare at you while you slept and he used his toys. So considerate.) He also came up with some new toys that the two of you can use together. Having toys custom designed for your pleasure? Well. It really adds to the experience of mating season.

He likes to take his time and study you. He is always coming to you with a new experience he wants to try. He does get a lot of pleasure out of trying new things, but he mostly just wants to know how you'll react. He is intimately familiar with your body and how it reacts, and he wants to see if those reactions hold true when different stimuli are applied. His prodigious brain is always working. He particularly likes when something catches you off guard and a surprised gasp comes out of your mouth.

Donnie is not overtly possessive, even in his season. But there is always one hickey very carefully placed somewhere noticeable that you can't cover easily. He knows just how much force to use to leave an imprint of his hands without hurting you more than you enjoy. And if he catches someone looking at you? You will probably be walking a little funny the next day. When he ties you up (he enjoys tying you up. a lot.), he'll take a minute to sit back and observe you, pleasuring himself to thoughts of how you belong to him the same way he belongs to you.

When his season is over, his favorite thing to do is cuddle with you while the both of you sleep it off. He won't leave the bed, not even to work, until he deems you fully rested. (He will work in bed while you sleep on his plastron though.) His second favorite thing to do is bathe you. He takes his time to make sure every inch of you is clean and cared for. It's a lot like going to a spa, because Donnie did a lot of research into spas so that he could replicate that experience for you. And if you give him a little pampering in return? You'll get to hear him chirp and churr in complete satisfaction.

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

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic

[dramaticallytotal]

TDWT Headcanons Pt. 7

Part 1 Last Part

• Leshawna, Cody, Noah, Harold, Sierra, Gwen, Ezekiel, and Duncan have allergies. Leshawna with pineapples, Cody with so many freaking bugs and goat saliva, Noah is allergic to bees, pollen, and dust. Harold has many but most notably crab apples and gummy slugs. Sierra is a little allergic to soy. Gwen is allergic to eucalyptus. Finally, Ezekiel has a slight allergy to peanuts. It's not bad, but he really hates it because he likes the taste of peanuts.

• Noah has so much blackmail on Chris it's not even funny. Mainly, it's embarrassing blackmail because the man has a bad habit of texting Noah his 3 am. thoughts, and they are all so freaking stupid.

One of his favorites was "Do you think Chef would love me if I was worm?"

Followed by

"Do you think he'd love me more if I could cook?"

Then

"Would he love me if I was a cooking worm like that stupid animated rat?"

• New Labels!! We all know everyone gets a label, so I'm either giving them new ones or tweaking their old ones or leaving them the same. We shall go alphabetically.

- Alejandro: The Arch Villain. It's simple and to the point!

- Blaineley: The Gossip Queen. I feel like she should have gotten one despite not being in the season that long.

- Bridgette: The Surfing Hostess. A mix of her original ones, plus acknowledging her being co-host of Aftermath

- Cody: The Geeky Drama Bro. A reference to his band The Drama Brothers mixed with his original label.

- Courtney: The Intimidating Overachiever. I just wanted to make it longer XD

- DJ: The Teddy Bear. Why mess with perfection?

- Duncan: The JD. Chris thought it was a clever musical reference, plus it stands for Juvenile Delinquent.

- Eva: The Powerhouse Stunt Girl. Noah made him change it to something positive with the power of blackmail.✨️

- Gwen: Living Goth Girl. Look... Noah was sleeping deprived, and one of the interns was blasting, Living Dead Girl and his half asleep brain thought it was hilarious. Chris's fully awake brain agreed.

- Harold: Uber Geek Bro. Mix of other labels plus his band name.

- Heather: The Queen Bee. Why mess with perfection x 2.

- Izzy: Izz-sane Actress. Chris could not help himself and gave her a pun. Noah made him put the actress.

- Leshawna: The Reality Queen. A nod to her and Tyler's run of reality TV shows. Despite what Blaineley said, it wasn't Leshawna's desperate grab for her former fame. All the shows asked her to guest star, and she did great.

- Lindsay: Her Hotness. A callback to her Admiral Lindsay Her Hotness role. Noah knows it was a fan favorite character arch. Thus, he added it.

- Noah: The High IQ. Why mess with perfection x 3, plus, Noah thinks it will help people underestimate him again.

- Owen: Big O. Chris and Noah just went with Izzy's nickname for Owen.

- Sierra: Obsessive Uber-Fan. It fits, and it makes the cast just believe she is a super fan, and then they meet her and are like "ooooh...you were not kidding about the Obsessive part."

- Trent: Loverboy. Short. Sweet. To the point XD

-----

Bonus:

- Chef: The Chef-of-all-trades. Because he does basically everything and Noah thought it was funny.

- Chris: The Host With The Most. Chris wanted to keep his classic label. (Noah calls him The Host With The Most Issues in his head.)

• When they were making the labels, Noah had to resort to spraying Chris with a spray bottle if he accidentally said something that would be seen as offensive. This morphed into Noah spraying him if he was being a diva, difficult, or just plain dumb.

• Noah immediately clocked Alejandro as too good to be true the moment they were in the craft services tent after being "rescued" by Chris and Chef. How? Because Noah was immediately attracted to him and Noah had bad taste in guys (or so his sisters say). Also, because, hello???? He auditioned to be on a show called Total Drama Dirtbags.

• Also also, Noah seems to attract ...eccentric types of people, and Alejandro chose to sit next to him on the bus. Well, in the seats across from him, seeing as he was sitting with Eva, and she chose the window seat. And he actually talked to him. To Noah, that was a big clue.

• When Noah and Blaineley get introduced to the merge people they each have to sing their own song. Blaineley, of course, songs her song Blaine-rific. Noah sings a parody of the song Roxie from Chicago with worked around lyrics, but he's hoping to spite the producers, and hopes they have to pay royalties or something for his song.

• Blaineley is pissed when she watches Noah's song because he got a costume that resembles Roxie's in the movie version somewhat, and some of the male interns even joined in as his background dancers and singer. He hoped Noelle was freaking proud because he performed the hell out of that song!

• Alejandro is definitely not jealous of all the boys pretending (they better be pretending) to fawn over Noah

• It's another instance of Alejandro being stunned by Noah, then he sees him in the wedding dress and blushes so hard.

• Bridgette and Noah are pretty good friends. They weirdly enough bonded over recipes since Bridgette is vegan, and Noah being Tamil eats a lot of vegan dishes whenever his mother cooks.

• Owen, Leshawna, Noah, Gwen, Alejandro, Courtney, Dj, and Tyler can all cook really damn good. Owen picked it up when he was trying diets, and he has actually lost some weight cooking for himself and his family. He's really proud. (So is Team E-Scope.) Leshawna because her aunties taught her and the senior volunteers at the shelters she helps at taught her too. DJ because of his Momma, of course. Gwen because she wanted to help her mom out, and sometimes, her mom was just so tired after working. Noah because his family sees cooking as a bonding experience. Alejandro learned so he could impress more people, but also his Nana wanted him to be self-reliant. Courtney because she didn't want to have to rely on others when she could do it herself. Tyler is a surprise, but he found out he could cook well when he started cooking for Lindsay for dates.

• Harold burned water once.

• Izzy isn't allowed in the kitchen. She likes to experiment too much.

• In Rapa Nui, when Chris was wearing the super short shorts, all the contestants there screamed in horror, and some even threw themselves to the floor. Noah slammed his face into the closest surface, which happened to be a very chiseled chest. Alejandro hid his face in Noah's hair.

• Chris was not amused at everyone's dramatics.

• I need you all to know that the Rapa Nui challenge isn't even a challenge because they couldn't close the rock fast enough, and Noah got picked up by the condor and taken to the nest. Which means he got his eggs all in the nest at once. Which means he automatically won.

• Chris comes up with a last-minute second challenge that whoever saves Noah gets immunity as well. (Someone save his son!)

• Noah is just trying not to freak out as the giant condor preens his hair like he's one of her chicks.

Next Part

[dreamofjoys]

𝙄 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓 ！

♡ A/N: Hello to everyone! I am excited to announce that I will be participating in kinktober 2023! This is my second time participating, so Im quite excited for it. There's a lot for me to write so I seek your understanding that I might not post them on the day itself (school is starting mid october eek but I will try and get it done). Last year's kinktober was focused solely on twisted wonderland but this year there will be other fandoms as well, and it will also be more plot focused? Hopefully that makes it more interesting. Only posting on some days

♡ Brief C/W: Dark themes, kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, pregnancy, double penetration, stalking and many more (will update as it goes by but will state in more details at the start of each fic). Everything is strictly character x fem/afab readers only

♡ General rules: Minors DO NOT INTERACT, No mean or rude comments (why read when I already stated the warnings and synopsis?Just block if don't like or uncomfy) and lastly, DO NOT ASK FOR PART 2.

♡ Participating fandoms: Genshin Impact (Neuvilette, Wriothlesley, Zhongli, Ayato, Alhaitham), Honkai Star Rail (Luo Cha, Jing Yuan, Blade, Nanook, Dan Heng, Dan Feng), Twisted Wonderland (Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Leona Kingscholar)

♡ P/S: Everything is subjected to changes! Some fics are still in progress of brainstorming.. you can try to req and I'll see if I want to take up the idea. Just putting out the masterlist early to test and see how things go. Might make some changes here and there but it honestly just depends on my situation and mood. Also teasing you guys and adding some sneak peaks lol (I genuinely hope it's good) You can literally guess who will be in the fic base on the title. Will only open taglist if there's a demand.

DREAMOFJOYS KINKTOBER 2023 COLLECTION

DAY 1-7 ; 7 minute in heaven? More like 7 days inside you!

— Characters involved: Malleus draconia(TWST), Wriothlesly(Genshin), Ayato(Genshin), Nanook(HSR), Luo Cha(HSR) — Synopsis: After getting officially married, you and your husband decided to finally go to your long awaited 7 days honeymoon in a resort at private island specially reserved by your husband! Those 7 days were meant to be fun and relaxing, but why are you so tired by the end of it? — Story parts: 1 / 2 /3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Day 9-11 ; The Demons of Xianzhou

— Characters involved: Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Feng (HSR) — Synopsis: There has been a legend of demons existing and residing in Xianzhou for a long period of time. Surely, they can't be one of your closest friends, right?

Day 13-15 ; In the name of Justice

— Characters involved: Neuvilette, Wriothelesly (Genshin) — Synopsis: Two of the most well known men in fontaine has fallen head over heels for you. They claim that everything that they do is for the sake of justice

Day 18-19 ; Egg Incubator

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: A young maiden was chosen by her village and was sacrificed as an offering to appease the 5 dragon gods who were terrorizing their land. She plots to escape from them, but can she really succeed?

Day 20 ; The General's Slave

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 23-24 ; The Princes's Sin

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 25 ; The Acting Grand Sage's Filthy Secret

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 26 ; The Destruction of Nanook

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 29-31 ; Briar Valley's Eternal Ruler

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?