#I'm feeling so normal and ok !!!!!! (lying through tears)

[southfarthing]

HAPPY 12 YEARS SINCE ARTHUR PENDRAGON STABBED TO DEATH!!!!!!!

[genshin-obsessed]

Hey there! Nice to meet ya! Could I request Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, and Wriothesley's s/o crying when she sees how bloody, battered and bruised they are?

Howdy! Nice to meet you as well! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it ^w^

Your boyfriend wasn't entirely reckless, but there were times when you wondered if he tried hard enough to... you know, not get hit? Normally, you're the one patching him up, and for the little wounds, you manage. But the days he comes back looking like he barely escaped with his life, you can't help but feel that deep seated fear reeling it's ugly head to remind you of the awful reality that one day, he may not come back.

Those are the hardest days for you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Kaeya

"Ow- hey, gentle." Kaeya said with a soft hiss as he felt the rushing pain through his wound, making the other parts of his arm hurt.

"Oh? Can't handle that?" You asked with a slightly frustrated tone as you kept cleaning the wound, not being much gentler. Kaeya frowned and let out a soft sigh as he turned to look at you. He was silent for a moment as he studied you- you looked angry but he could see you biting your bottom lip a little to keep it from trembling. Not to mention the excessive blinking to keep those tears back.

"I'm... ok, (y/n). I promise. It's just a small scratch. It doesn't even hurt that bad, I was just joki-"

"Stop lying to me." You said sternly, your hand pausing as your gaze met his. You could see the guilt lingering within. "I know it hurts. I know you were scared. I know... so stop lying." Kaeya reached up with his calloused hands and gently took yours.

"I'm sorry. I know I tend to worry you a lot. I'm really sorry." He murmured honestly, watching as your defenses broke and the tears filled your eyes. "Don't cry- please, don't cry." He said with a frown as he hugged you against him tightly. Blood slowly trickled down his arm but he didn't care. At the end of the day, it really didn't hurt that bad because you were taking care of him. But he did vow to be much more careful, seeing the toll it was taking on you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Diluc

Diluc sat there silently as you cleaned up the wounds. He didn't say a word or even flinch. You were just as silent, soft sighs escaping you when you turned away from him. He didn't say anything, but he definitely heard them. Once you finished up, you turned away from him, gathering the bloodied towels and tissues that lay around you two.

It was odd. Usually, the second he'd come through the door, you'd begin to scold him and the entire time you cleaned and dressed every single wound, even that tiny scratch that wasn't bleeding, your scolding never stopped. But tonight, you didn't say a single word. Not only that, but you avoided meeting his eyes which just sent a wave of discontent through him.

He waited and waited and waited, but you never spoke. As his crimson eyes watched you gather the cotton and tissues, he finally found his voice and called out.

"I'm... sorry."

"You're always sorry." You replied after a moment of hesitation. That was true. Diluc often got injured and would really just have an apology to give you. No assurances or anything. None that mattered anyway. Before you could leave, his arm shot out and he caught your wrist. Ever so gently, he pulled you back to him, turning your head so that you were looking at him.

"I know. I know, I don't have much other than a sorry to give you. But... I need to know if you're ok. I can tell when you're upset and I know you may not want to talk to me right now. But-" before Diluc could finish his sentence, you broke down. Tears filled your eyes and streamed down your cheeks and you fell against him. Without hesitation- without a word- his arms engulfed you in a warm embrace. So, you weren't ok and he could tell, he wasn't an idiot. But when you sighed and said you were fine, it brought him some form of comfort. But this? This was more painful than any wound on his body.

After that night, you saw less and less unnecessary wounds on him.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Childe

His bruises and bloodied wounds almost always started some sort of argument between you two. You just never understood why he was so careless. Fine, whatever, he liked fighting. But why was he always getting hurt? Not only did he get hurt, sometimes it was bad. Stitches bad.

"You keep frowning like that and your face is gonna get stuck like that." He joked, only for you to glare in his direction. He always did that, he always trivialized the worry you felt for him as if it was unnecessary.

"I'm not a kid, stop it. You know this worries me. Why do you always end up this badly hurt?" Childe actually kept a lot hidden from you, especially when it came to his work as a Fatui. It's not that he didn't trust you- no way. It was just safer for you to not know about his work. Having knowledge was already dangerous, so he just... lied.

"Listen," he began softly as he grabbed your working hand, making that frown on your face deepen. "You're right, ok? I should be more careful and sometimes I'm not. But please don't be too angry with me. Not for my sake, but your own. I don't want you to be sad all night."

"Look at you, Ajax," you said, your voice beginning to shake with the emotions you were so desperately trying to contain. "Look at yourself and t-tell me how I'm n-not supposed to be sad." The tears filled your eyes and when you attempted to blink them back, they just spilled. Childe didn't speak. He just pulled you against him, holding you tightly.

"They're just surface wounds, love. I swear to you- with everything that I am- no one is ever going to take me away from you. I'll always come home to you." And he kept that promise. He was a lot more careful though, doing his best to avoid frivolous fights. It was definitely a big change for him, but your tears that night, they hurt more than any wound he'd ever sustained.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Wriothesley

“It’s not that bad.” Wriothesley said as his gaze remained focused on your face. “It barely hurts, really. Can’t even feel it. I guess I’m just strong— Ack!”

You didn’t say a word, your eyes just shot up to Wriothesley who just sheepishly chuckled. Your silence was just the worst. He’d rather you yell at him, throw things at him, insult him— whatever. Just don’t stay quiet. Not that you've ever resorted to any of those, but he finds anger more manageable than silence.

“Come on, I’m ok. It hurts a little but what wound doesn’t? I really am fine.” He sighed after a moment and leaned back in the chair when you once again refused to speak or even look at him. He knew and understood why you were so upset with him. But it’s not like he could’ve helped it. He got into fights, he had to sometimes. If he backed down, he’d lose respect. It’s not like he fights every meathead out there, he just needs to teach certain people lessons. Doesn’t mean they won’t hit him back.

A small sniffle from you made his icy blue eyes shoot to you. They slowly widened as he felt a small droplet land on his arm.

“Hey, come on, don’t cry. I’m fine. I swear.” He said as he sat right back up and tried to grab your face. You brushed his hand away and kept cleaning the wound before he grabbed your wrist. “(Y/n), please look at me.” He murmured, finally making you stop.

“I don’t care if it doesn’t hurt you, it hurts me.” You didn’t have to say much after that as Wriothesley engulfed you into a tight hug.

It put things into perspective, that one little sentence. Those last three words. There was a drastic shift in his behavior after that day. He was more careful and avoided fights unless it was necessary. Even then, he’d try to push back. Did people question him after that? Of course they did, but Wriothesley only fought those who really required it.

[tan1shere]

Venting

A/n: I'm writing this since I didn't feel like I fully executed a request so the anon who requested "New Chapter" this is for you angel ! You get double bc I'm a perfectionist... anyways hope you all enjoy !

Warnings - angsty ? Fluff and comfort ! || masterlist

What was it. Why was this feeling consuming you. Why, why. Why. You wanted to know, it was making you miserable all the God damn time. Frustrating you even. You hated being like this, around your friends, family. And especially your girlfriend. She had noticed the slight change in you recently. In your tone, mood. Attitude. You were sleeping more, eating a little less. But you seemed to be ok. Nothing was bothering you, that you knew of. You just felt glued to the comfortable bed.

It all started when you and her went over to Maggie and Patrick's for dinner. They had invited you both. Knocking on the door and being greeted by Maggie. "Hi girls." You give her a small smile. "Hi mama." Billie says, going to hug her. You notice her looking at you. "Are you ok sweetheart, you look a little unwell." Your brows furrow. "Yeah I'm perfectly fine."

Earlier

"First time you've probably left this bed this week." You bite the inside of your lip at that remark. Why did that bother you. Why. "Yup, probably the best thing." She then looks at you. "Speaking of that, is everything alright with you? You've seemed off the past few weeks. Like at Finneas' you weren't eating much." You shrugged. "Well it was only snacks and I wasn't as hungry." She saw through you always, she knew something was up.

-

"That's good then. Come come, I started cooking." And as you were about to Billie pulls you aside. "See, even my mother sees it-" "I'm fine, Bills. Let's just enjoy tonight." She sighs, following behind you. The dinner was normal until it wasn't- Your replies were dry. Not intentionally but you accidentally came off cold. What was going on with you. It was making you angry. But all you wanted to do was ignore it. Ignore these ransom feelings. Billie ends up giving you a look at something you say. "Y/n." She says, making you look at her.

"Can we talk?" You shrug, getting up when she does. "Whats up?" She puts her hands in her pockets. "What do you mean?" She gives you a confused look. "You've been dry towards my mother the whole evening, somethings going on." You sigh, going to go. "I'm fine." She grabs your wrist. "You're lying." "Billie.-" She now sighs. "Talk. To me." - "I promise you I'm fine I'm just a bit tired, please can we move on and go back in." Not one word did she believe.

She dumps the keys once she gets inside. The slight tension of what had happened, lingering. You immediately go up into your shared room, wanting the comfort of the bed again. "Y/n!" She says as she sprints after you. "Hey, now we are home can we please talk." - "Billie, there's nothing to talk about, I just wanna get into bed." She scoffs slightly. Making your heart twinge. You ignore it, changing and getting under the covers.

"Just talk to me! Something is clearly wrong!" "Well it's a little hard to when I don't even know what the fuck is wrong. I don't know why I'm becoming like this. It's been worrying me for the past few weeks. So no, I can't talk to you. When there's literally nothing to talk about!" She stares at you. Processing, then seeing your bloodshot eyes as they pool with tears. You look at her confused, unaware of both things. "What?" She even wanted to cry, hating that obviously something was bothering you deep down.

"Billie?" You question. She grabs your hands gently. "When did this start?" You shake your head really confused for some reason. "Huh?" "When. Did this start baby." Your eyebrows rest at the name, finding a comfort in it. Something you haven't been feeling lately. Comfortable. "Uhm, it was maybe 2 weeks ago nearly 3." She tries so hard to remember what happened back that far. Thinking, thinking. Thinking. Until she realized. "The article, everything after that." When it was finally said outloud you felt like crying.

It hit you, she was right it was the article. But you were fine after it, you didn't even care what people said about you, you knew your worth. Or did you? Maybe it was in the back of your mind all those tucked away feelings. "They're all just jealous." She assures. When something bubbles inside you. "It wasn't just the stuff they said about me. It was all the other stuff." You start to fully sob. It truly getting you like it should've all along, why has it taken so long. "All the stuff they said about our relationship.. how we wouldn't last, how- just because I'm not famous you'd eventually leave me."

The thought makes you cry more. "I guess I started believing them... In the back of my mind." Her eyes soften, reaching out for you. "Baby."

"That'll never, ever happen." Your tears flow heavy but her hands quickly go to wipe them. "What if you get sick of me Bill, I'm not spec-" She shakes her head immediately. "No. Because you're the most special thing in my life. If you weren't in it, fuck. I'd be lost. You keep me in check always when I'm lost in life. And now I'm determined to do the same for you." Your heart melts and you smile, finally that smile she loved was back. "Theres my girl. One day at a time we will get you back to your old self." - "I love you Billie thank you."

"No, thank you. For being mine."

[dudadragneel]

Hello, guys! It's me!

Sorry for going MIA again, there's just a lot going on 😅

But hey, another fic for you!

This one was a request from @fairyniceyeah !

I'm sorry this took AGES to be ready and posted....(Insert here Sponge Bob square pants "2000 years later")

also I'm sorry if this request took a certain turn...

STP - Standard Temperature and Pressure

BEHIND THE BEAT

Before becoming an idol, Minho was a professional dancer and a backup dancer for BTS, so dancing was a serious topic for him.

He'd always participate in the creation process of their choreographies and it always had to be perfect. Of course they had fun, but when it was time to get serious, they got really serious.

Whenever they had to spend so much time inside that practice room, dancing for hours on end, they remembered their trainee days.

And those days weren't one bit easy.

They had a choreographer but the one who'd mostly work on the choreographies, work with the boys and guide them through it, was Minho.

And when he entered dance practice mode, he could be as scary as pre-debut Chan. So much so that even Chan would get a little scared sometimes.

It was honestly impressive how attentive to details and mistakes Minho was.

They always wondered "how can a single pair of eyes keep track of movements from seven different people?"

Well, that's just how good of a dancer he was.

It was a tiring job and stressful as well, after all he had to be able to deal with seven different dancing styles and personalities.

Felix and Hyunjin were part of Danceracha so he didn't really worry about those two and they did their best to help Minho to the best of their habilities.

But at the end of the day, if anything went wrong or if things weren't going as smooth as everyone wished, he'd take all the blame to himself.

He had pride on what he did.

If the members weren't getting the moves right, wasn't him a bad teacher?

That's exactly how his mind worked, despite everyone trying to tell him he was doing a perfect job.

This time they were preparing for a really big comeback that would be followed by a tour, which meant: no time to rest, no openings for mistakes.

The boys gathered at JYPE's famous cafeteria to have lunch and discuss some of the things they had to work on.

Chan was explaining how they'd record the tracks, how much time he'd need to work with the members on their parts etc.

On the other side, Minho was also doing the same, planning out how many hours they'd have to practice in a day and such.

They knew it all too well how hectic it got when a comeback was around the corner, and yet, they couldn't keep themselves from already feeling utterly tired. Even if they hadn't done much yet.

Sometimes they'd wonder how in heavens they decided on that career and how it would be to just live a normal life.

But those thoughts would always be replaced with some sort of relief, after all they'd also wonder how it would've been if they never met each other. And that thought alone would make any of them tear up. That was just how much they meant to each other.

After they were done with their lunch, they rested for a little while and went straight to dance practice.

Minho's mind was swimming with ideas for the choreographies and he needed to practice them, he needed to see how the movements inside his mind would be shown in real life.

So the dance practices would usually went like this:

Minho would make the boys stretch long enough so they didn't have any cramps or injured themselves.

And then he'd stand in front of the mirror practicing the moves alone for a moment and sharpening them before gathering the others to teach them.

While he did that, the practice room was utter chaos, the boys were running around or lying down or laughing, just simply being themselves.

And while Minho sometimes wanted to punch them, he'd be lying if he said he didn't like that chaos.

- Ok guys! Come on!

After a while, Minho entered his dance practice mode and gathered everyone to start teaching the dance moves.

Most of the time, the group wouldn't make many mistakes, specially Danceracha and more specifically Minho.

Well, sometimes Felix would get some moves wrong or just not do them as sharp as the others but it was due to his back problem. Everyone always reassured him it wasn't his fault but still he was harsh on himself.

And if Felix punished himself like that, Minho did that to himself a 100 times worse. After all, he was a dancer who became an idol, he was a professional dancer before all this, so in his mind, he couldn't make any mistakes.

Yet, while working on the dances for the impending comeback and tour, the universe just seemed to have some sort of conspiracy against him.

Every so often, he'd miss a step, dance off beat, or even forget a little part of the choreography which was really unusual for him.

The boys were already getting worried, they weren't used to seeing him that much out of control of his own movements.

And he was starting to get stressed, really stressed.

Whereas Chan's anger would make him raise his voice a bit and use a harsher tone, Minho's was a more silent one.

Sometimes he wouldn't even mutter a single word.

There would be just this aura surrounding him and whenever one of the boys would dare approach him, he'd just look them dead in the eye.

Like a tiger looking at its prey.

And that was warning enough for the others to back off. In these type of situations, Chan was the only one who could break through Minho's walls and attempt to understand his feelings and calm him down.

The dance practice continued for another hour and so did Minho's mistakes.

"Fuck!"

"Why is nothing going right today?"

He thought to himself.

Not once, not even once he managed to dance the entire routine without making a few, as he'd say, dumb mistakes.

Their choreographer didn't know what was going on. Hell, not even himself was understanding what was happening to him.

Minho was getting progressively stressed and angry. He was acting the same way he acted when he was mad at his stage outfits.

Chan and the boys knew exactly where this was going.

The choreographer called for a quick break so that everyone could catch their breath and Chan took this opportunity to try and talk to Minho, and hopefully understand what was going on.

Minho sat down on the couch, throwing his beanie and cursing.

Oh, he was beyond angry. He was fuming.

Chan sat beside him in silence. Analyzing the situation, the leader understood that trying to get him to say something might worsen the situation.

If Minho needed to say something, he would, if not, Chan wouldn't push him into doing so.

- Damn it! Sorry, hyung.

He immediately apologized for cursing in front of his leader.

And Chan saw that as an opportunity to speak to him, careful not to get him more stressed.

- Is everything okay?

Chan asked with such a gentle tone that Minho almost broke down in sobs.

- Yeah, I'm fine.

He answered, a bit colder than he wanted, but he wasnt in control of his body, let alone his mind.

- Okay.

For a moment Minho thought he hurt Chan's feelings since the leader gave a short answer. He'd even risk saying it was just as cold as his.

But maybe it was just his mind, getting annoyed by the littlest thing.

The fact is, deep down inside, he wished Chan would've insist on asking because part of him wanted to tell someone how he was feeling, if he managed to understand what exactly was it.

The other part, the proud one, didn't want to admit that he wasn't okay. It seemed like this part wanted to show the others and himself, that he could handle things on his own, just like Chan.

And he did manage to deal with things on his own a lot of times but he had already asked for help on a few occasions.

Why didn't he want to seek help now?

He didn't know.

His thoughts were starting to eat him from the inside.

And then, the break was over.

In STP, Minho would be happy to resume dancing. But this time, he was stuck between wanting to dance and make up for his mistakes or not dance at all afraid of keep on making mistakes.

Honestly? It had been some time since the last time his mind took over like this.

And he wasn't liking it, not one bit.

To add to his stress and frustration, his whole body was starting to ache and a weird feeling had settled in his stomach a while ago. But he was so frustrated that he didn't even notice.

Great. Now he had to dance afraid of making more mistakes and conscious of the annoying feeling in his stomach.

And just like the beginning of practice, the mistakes just kept coming.

He was so out of tune with his own dancing that he wasn't even able to analyze the other members.

How could he, when he himself wasn't getting the steps right?

He'd just be a hypocrite.

The members however, were getting really worried seeing Minho like that.

Each time they made a mistake, they looked at Minho, waiting for a correction or something but nothing.

And now Minho was feeling even worse than before.

He felt like his body was about to crumble, his vision was kinda blurry and his mind, oh his mind. It was corrupting him from the inside.

At the same time he couldn't exactly see the members properly, it seemed like he could sense everything inside the room.

And he felt like everyone's gaze were locked on him, piercing through his body, as if criticizing him from head to toe.

Members, choreographers, staff, everyone.

And in fact, they were, but not the way he imagined.

They were looking at him concerned, trying to understand what was happening to him.

Practice went on and so did the mistakes. At some point the choreographer questioned him what was happening but he couldn't really answer so he just muttered an excuse.

Although they had a good relationship with their staff, Chan would get angry at them if he thought they were pushing the members into talking or admitting something or just making them uncomfortable.

And Chan felt something building inside him.

The choreographer didn't use a harsh tone nor was he reprimanding Minho, but Chan since sensing something was wrong with his dongsaeng, he became overprotective.

Changbin noticed Chan starting to get restless and discreetly talked to him, whispering so no one would hear him.

- Hyung.

The younger rapper said, touching Chan's shoulder and bringing him back to reality.

- I know what you're thinking. We noticed Minho-hyung is acting strange. But the choreographer is talking to him normally. Please don't get worked up.

- I know, I know.

Chan sighed and then took deep breaths to calm himself down before he talked back to the choreographer, who was not at fault, and created a bad situation.

And quiet honestly, he also wasn't at fault. He was just caring and protecting Minho, after all he was his dongsaeng and he was supposed to be a leader.

When the choreographer seemed satisfied with Minho's explanation, if there really was one, he resumed practice one more time.

By now it was agonizing to keep dancing. Not only was he not getting the steps right at all, he was also slowing down the others, making practice last way longer.

Minho was feeling so utterly frustrated at himself that the last thin line of focus he had, was completely cut off.

His movements became sluggish, he felt his body tingling and his vision was getting more blurry than before.

He just wanted that practice to end. No, the whole day. And start anew the next day.

It was hurting the boys, specially Chan, to see Minho like that. Because he couldn't get through to him earlier and he knew his dongsaeng didn't like to admit to feeling unwell. But this was getting out of hand.

It felt like Minho had been replaced by someone else.

He kept on dancing, like he was on autopilot, still trying to get the steps right.

Then the choreographer called another break.

And that was when everything crumbled.

The others sat down on the ground, some lay down, feeling tired from the last 3 hours of dancing.

Chan, though, kept his gaze focused on Minho.

The younger man stumbled to the side of the room, bracing himself against the wall.

He would dare say he felt like he was about to die.

When the adrenaline started to subside, he became hyper aware of everything he was feeling, both physically and mentally.

He was overcome with guilt of not getting things right and making the others put on an extra amount of unnecessary effort.

His mind was not giving him one moment of peace and neither was his body.

He couldn't breathe properly, he tried to but it felt like there was no oxygen going inside his lungs, as if his chest was being squeezed. His back was heaving up and down, getting faster each passing second.

His whole body felt like jelly and about to shut down, he felt like all his muscles were close to relaxing all at once.

The rapid breathing made him feel incredibly dizzy, his vision was blurring even more than before and he felt unsteady on his feet, thank god for that wall.

And to top it off, his stomach was rebelling against him. Every single emotion he was feeling, was being reflected in his stomach.

It churned and his lunch was sloshing around like a washing machine, he could already taste the bile in his mouth.

He kept his back turned to the others, desperately trying to get a hold of his own body. But it wasn't working.

His breathing was not going back to normal and it made him feel like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The nausea was overwhelming him and he tried to fight it back, swallowing convulsively and clenching his fists for dear life. He didn't dare move a muscle and he was actually surprised how he hadn't collapsed yet.

Seeing how his state deteriorated quickly when they took this las break, the members were extremely concerned about him. But at the same time they didn't know if trying to get close to him would be a wise idea.

Almost all of them looked at Chan, desperate for a signal from the leader but before he could raise a hand and nod them a "no", one of them was already missing: Hyunjin.

He and Minho bickered all the time but they loved each other and Hyunjin was just as worried as the others.

He got closer to Minho and placed a hand on his sweaty back making him flinch a little and quickly looking up at him and then dropping his head again, already running out of strength to hold his body.

The younger dancer felt his hyung's back heave up and down quickly and how his hands were clenched in such tight fists, he was worried Lee Know was gonna hurt himself.

Minho tried to focus on Hyunjin's hand on his back for dear life, everything was too overwhelming and he felt like he could faint at any minute. Hyunjin's presence was the only thing that was barely keeping him grounded.

- Hyung?

Hyunjin called out, tilting his head a bit so he could see Minho's face, getting no response.

But the older dancer was in such a state that he wasn't even listening Hyunjin's voice, actually, he wasn't even sure he processed it was Hyunjin who was by his side.

He was basically hyperventilating now and his lunch was threatening to make an appearance really soon.

Minho kept his head low, eyes focused on the ground, fists and jaw clenched, swallowing down the rising nausea. And in the midst of it, trying to get his breathing under control.

But it was no use, it was a battle he wasn't gonna win even if he tried.

Hyunjin moved his hand to his hyung's shoulder, squeezing it and trying to bring him back to earth. And he then positioned himself in front of Minho, lowering himself a bit so he could try to meet his gaze.

But that was the wrong move.

The moment Hyunjin appeared in front of Minho was also the moment he lost his battle against his stomach.

He felt liquid rushing up his chest and hitting the back of his throat faster than he could react.

And then he bent down a little further retching a thick stream of vomit that hit the ground with a sickening sound and unfortunately, got on Hyunjin's shoes.

The younger one was shocked at first but quickly recollected himself while the others rushed to them.

Hyunjin stepped back a bit, trying to stay away from the upcoming mess but kept a firm hand on his hyung's back.

Minho vomited another wave that left him breathless and dizzy.

He was about to lose all strength in his body when Chan and Changbin got by his side and grabbed him.

- Don't worry, Minho-ah, we've got you.

Chan reassured as both him and Changbin gently lowered him down.

- Can someone grab a towel? And some water?

Chan asked and then immediately turned his attention to Minho who was still breathing erratically and gagging unproductively.

- It's okay, it's okay. You're gonna be okay.

The leader cooed, rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down while also brushing the hair out of his face, only to reveal trails of tears on his cheeks.

Chan's heart sunk to the ground when he saw that, because it only meant that Minho was dealing with something that was bothering him so much to the point of crying.

And Minho crying was a rare sight.

Chan also knew that he never liked to show his weakness to the others, not even tears, so he didn't say anything.

One of the boys came back with a towel and put it in front of Minho to cover the mess on the floor and prevent it from getting bigger.

He kept on gagging unproductively and it was clear that it was hurting him.

-Hey, it's okay.

Chan then noticed that Minho was holding it in, he knew that throwing up in front of everyone, members and choreographer and, well, on Hyunjin's shoes had left him mortified.

Even if the mess had already been done, he'd rather hold everything in than continue to display how out of control he was.

And Chan knew that.

- Kids, Hyung-nim.

Chan said with a authoritative tone, though very gentle at that.

And the others didn't need any other word to understand what he meant and quickly left the room. Too many people and too much attention would only worsen Minho's condition.

- There we go, Minho-ah. It's just you and me here.

Minho was still fighting against the nausea, even though it was just the two of them inside the room.

Wasn't he being humiliated enough?

He grabbed the fabric of his pants, gripping it with all his force, trying to contain the nausea by swallowing convulsively and taking deep breaths.

- It's okay, Minho-ah. No one is watching you, I'm the only one here, okay? Throw up if you need to, don't hold it in, it'll only make you feel worse.

Chan reassured, running his hand up and down Minho's back, his touch so gentle it was making him start crying again, though silently.

He slowly allowed himself to start relaxing and by doing that, his stomach immediately responded by contracting.

Minho lurched forward, more vomit escaping his lips and soiling the towel the boys had placed on the ground.

- That's it. You're doing good, just let it all out.

Chan said with a gentle voice while rubbing his dongsaeng's back up and down and then in circles, feeling how it heaved up and down with each retch.

Another wave came out, even stronger, coming out of his nose as well and hurting his throat in the process.

And feeling the texture of the food in his mouth as well as the tiny pieces in his nose didn't help, it only triggered another wave.

- Hyung....

Minho said with a weak and shaky voice after the bout was over.

- I know, I know. You'll be okay.

The smell of sick seemed to have impregnated in his nose after coming out of it.

He tried blowing it to see if he could get rid of what seemed to be rice and that caused a round of unproductive retches.

Eventually another wave of putrid vomit made its way out and this one left his body shaking from the effort.

And to add to his misery, he managed to choke on a piece of undigested food and started coughing.

- Don't worry, hyung will help you, okay?

Minho didn't even have strength to answer his leader, he just wanted that to be over with.

Chan changed his approach and started to rub Minho's chest, trying to provide comfort and help dislodge what got stuck in his throat.

The dancer kept coughing and gagging, but nothing was coming up and he knew there was more that needed to get out.

He clutched his stomach because it was hurting so much and it wasn't giving him a break.

- Minho-ah, do you think you still have to puke?

Minho nodded weakly.

- Okay, I'll try something but it might be uncomfortable, okay?

Chan moved his hand from Minho's chest to his abdomen, more precisely to the middle and started to massage it, applying a bit of pressure every time.

It seemed to be working because Minho was gagging again and soon it brought up another bout of sick that mixed with the rest in the already soiled towel.

And Chan returned his attention to rubbing his dongsaeng's back, trying to make the ordeal less excruciating.

Minho still puked a few times and it felt like his stomach was determined to turn itself out. Even in his dazed state he was wondering how there was still things in him for him to vomit.

And Chan was getting worried that Minho's stomach was trying to get rid of all the food he ate in the past few weeks.

After about 45 minutes since everything started, Minho was just dry heaving and still gagging a bit. It really looked like his stomach wanted to get rid of itself.

- That's it. You did great.

Chan murmured to him still rubbing his back in soothing circles and his chest as well.

Minho didn't know why but that felt heavenly and comforting, and if he was being really honest to himself, he didn't want Chan to stop it.

- Let's get you away from this mess, okay?

The leader carefully helped Minho to another area in the practice room and sat beside him.

- Hey, can I go and dispose of that towel? Or can I ask someone to come get it?

Minho nodded a weak no.

He didn't want to be alone and he definitely didn't want to be seen.

- That's okay. We'll deal with that later. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Do you wanna try some water?

- mhmm

That was the first sound of his voice Chan heard after that long ordeal.

- Here, rinse out your mouth.

Chan said helping Minho take a sip to just wash his mouth and get rid of the awful taste in his mouth.

- Hey, do you think you can drink a little bit? Just small sips.

Minho hesitated at first but then nodded but he was too out of it and feeling too weak to hold the bottle.

So Chan gently brought it to his lips, tilting it slightly helping him take small sips. And the cold water helped soothe his throat a little bit, even though his stomach wasn't exactly happy about it.

Chan then grabbed a bucket and set it beside Minho so he could rinse his mouth and well, be there just in case.

None of them wanted that room to get any dirtier and they were feeling pretty bad for the staff who'd clean it after.

Chan gently brushed Minho's hair behind his ear to reveal the trails of tears one more time. He also noticed that his face was flushed, most likely due to the embarrassment and his eyes and nose were red from the crying.

He tenderly wiped away a tear that was running down Minho's cheek with his thumb.

- Hey, Minho-ah....do you want to tell me what happened?

He asked with the most gentle tone known to mankind and that broke Minho once more. He started sobbing but he still didn't want to lift his head.

- It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it now. We'll stay here as long as you want, I won't go anywhere.

Chan said reassuring Minho and putting a hand on his shoulder giving it a squeeze, as if proving his words.

He continued to rub Minho's back in soothing circles as the younger boy continued to cry and for some reason the tears just wouldn't stop falling.

Eventually he started to calm down and the sobs stopped, the only sound was now his sniffing.

Apart from that, the room was completely quiet and like Chan said, he was not gonna pressure Minho into talking, so he stayed silent.

- 'm sorry...

The silence was broken by Minho's weak voice, barely a whisper.

He had his head between his knees, looking at the ground with tears still dropping and creating a small puddle.

- Why are you apologizing, hm?

Chan asked softly, stroking his dongsaeng's hair and patiently waiting for his response.

- Because I messed up....and made you guys practice more than needed....

- There's nothing to apologize for, Minho-ah...

- I couldn't get anything right...no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't concentrate and-

He stopped to catch his breath as he felt his chest tightening, a sign that he was on the verge of a panic attack.

- Hey, hey, take it easy. Breathe. You don't need to rush, okay?

Chan reassured as he grabbed Minho's hand and he instinctively squeezed his in return, trying to ground himself.

- Take deep breaths, slowly.

Minho followed Chan's instructions and started to calm down and continued talking.

- Nothing was working and I couldn't even pay attention to you guys and we're so close to the comeback and the tour, this is not supposed to happen....

- Minho-ah, you don't need to put so much pressure on yourself. And this is coming from a person that does exactly the opposite so I don't think I have much say on the matter hahaha.

Chan joked, earning a weak laugh from the dancer.

- But seriously, don't be so hard on yourself. We all have our "off" days, it's completely normal.

- I know, hyung....but-

He was cut off by a sob and then his mind took control again. It flooded with thoughts of not being able to get the steps right even if he tried his best, missing steps during the actual performance, not being able to pour out his 110% on stage.

It was mortifying.

And before he could even notice, he was already having a panic attack. He was hyperventilating, he couldn't stop crying and those thoughts refused to go away.

- They won't stop coming! Hyung, make it stop...

Minho pleaded between sobs and gasps of air.

- Hey, hey, Minho-ah. I need you to breathe.

Chan said placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back to reality.

- I- I can't--

- Yes, you can. Come on.

Chan was respecting Minho's space to the best of his habilities, but the situation was now escalating and he had to intervene.

He gently lifted Minho's head and turned it towards him, so his dongsaeng was now facing him.

And it took every ounce of strength in his body to keep his composure seeing him like that.

- Look at me. You're gonna breathe with me, okay?

Minho nodded weakly, although unsure if he'd actually be able to.

Chan guided the dancer's hand towards his chest so he could feel his breathing pattern, while holding his other hand.

- You can feel my breathing. It's slow and steady, right? I want you to try and do the same. I know you can do it.

Lee Know tried to but it was just so hard, it felt he was underwater, trying desperately to take in any air but failing. And his mind just kept on repeating the same thoughts over and over again, like a broken record.

He squeezed Chan's hand until his knuckles turned white, his nails almost digging into his hyung's hand, trying to push those thoughts away.

- Keep trying. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you need. But I need you to keep trying, keep on focusing on my breathing.

It took some time, but eventually Minho started to regain control over his breathing. He focused on Chan's breathing as the leader instructed and slowly evened his.

His grip on Chan's hand started to loosen up.

- There we go. Feeling a bit more calm now?

Chan asked wiping away the tears from Minho's eyes and cheeks but never letting go of his hand on his chest.

- Yes...

Minho answered weakly, clearly exhausted and embarrassed about everything that happened.

- Do you think you can talk to me about those thoughts?

- I think so....

Although getting a positive answer it was followed by a silent pause, yet Chan didn't insist.

- I just kept thinking that I needed to do well, that I needed to get everything right and help everyone with their dance. And that we have an upcoming comeback and tour and the choreographies need to be completed by then....and nothing seemed to be working....it was like my body was being controlled by those thoughts and I couldn't shut them up. I didn't want to be a burden and I felt like everyone was judging me for making so many mistakes.

It shattered Chan's heart to hear those words coming from Minho.

- No one was judging you, Minho-ah. No one will ever judge you. We knew something was wrong, that's why we were looking at you, we were worried.

Chan reassured him, running a thumb on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

- I'm sorry...

Minho said with a trembling voice looking down but Chan wasn't having it. He gently lifted his face again.

- Don't apologize. Don't you ever apologize for feeling weak, for feeling stressed, for being human. You hear me?

The younger boy just nodded, not really having any words to say.

He felt exhausted.

- Come here.

Chan said gently pulling Minho closer to him and embracing him in a back hug.

Minho allowed himself to be completely embraced by Chan, resting his head on his hyung's arm and the older kept his breathing steady so Minho could match it.

And they stayed like that, for minutes, in complete silence, the room quiet apart from their breathing.

He was so exhausted from everything that happened that in a few minutes he fell asleep on Chan's embrace, the same safe and warm back hug he secretly loved.

[envirae]

you're losing me — jay park

pairing: idol!jay x reader genre: angst wc: 1.1k warnings: intentional lowercase cursing, toxic relationship, jay is a horrible bf, not proofread

series masterlist

as an idol, jay's line of work simply did not allow for a "normal" relationship. his company didn't really care if he dated or not, as long as he was incredibly smart about it. which he was, sometimes.

you were one of jay's classmates at hanlim, and from his first day there, you had caught his eye. the stolen glances from across the room, his not-so-subtle attempts to sit next to you in class, and his even more obvious attempts to constantly make you laugh.

it was no surprise when jay confessed his feelings to you the day of graduation.

when you decided to accept his feelings, you knew exactly what you were getting into. a part of you even knew it was doomed from the start. but when you looked into jay's eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of home, you just felt you had to try. 

and he was perfect, at least in the beginning. he tried his best to see you often, even if you two couldn't go out on dates like normal. he made it clear that he would always put his career first, and you respected that. you told him you would always be there to support him, even if it hurt you a little.

and then, about two years into your relationship, you noticed a shift. he used to spend nights sneaking out just to see you, but some nights you were struggling to even get a goodnight text from him. he used to hold you in his arms for hours, but now it felt like you were always waiting on him.

you tried your best to make it clear to him how you were feeling, yet he always brushed it off as you being overdramatic. not wanting to cause more problems, you believed him.

one particular night, jay texts you around 8 pm, asking you to come to the dorm. you were too excited about the fact that he wanted to see you to notice that he didn't want to come over to you, or even offer to pick you up.

and when you get there, he lets you in before rushing straight out the door, telling you, "not to go anywhere," and that "i'll be right back."

you sit on the couch, feeling awkward and out of place. you make small talk with some of the boys for a bit, and you don't miss the look of pity on heeseung's face.

when jay finally returns, it's past midnight. he opens the door and puts his things down before taking his seat next to you. you can't believe that you actually waited 4 hours for him, and that he doesn't even have the nerve to apologize.

you would say it's hard to believe he would do something like this, but this wasn't even the first time. were you really okay with just forgiving him each and every time? and you had put up with it countless times before, but you were slipping through his fingers.

"are you kidding me, jay?" you breathe out, trying not to sound angry, although you very much are.

he's caught off guard, but he simply raises a brow and responds, "what do you want me to say? i forgot something at work."

"and that took you four hours? do you really expect me to believe that?" you were baffled by his shamelessness, but both of you had too much pride to back down at this point.

“yes, i do. you don't think i'm lying, do you? i didn't mean for it to take so long, but once i was there i just got caught up. i don’t understand why you're being like this, y/n.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

 “i know you don’t understand, jay. because you never listen to me! you never even try!" your voice was shaky, and you could hardly get your words out without tearing up.

jay looked at you in disbelief, as if you had just said the most outrageous statement to him. "ok, so what exactly do you want me to do about it, y/n?"

"just do something, jay, anything! show me that you're in this like i'm in this. it feels like you're fighting with me, not for me." you choked out through tears.

"so what, you're saying that i don't care about you? i'm just the worst boyfriend in the world? you know my work is difficult i just-"

"i don't give a fuck about your work, jay! i have stood back and taken all of your shit for two years, and i never said a word about it. i know you're capable of loving me properly, so why don't you? why do you keep ignoring me? i'm right here, jay." you cut him off. his expression was blank, and you knew there was really no point in trying to voice your feelings when he just didn't care. "i just want you to choose me."

it felt like a knife was being twisted in your chest. what are you supposed to do when the person who your heart beats for is now the same person shattering it into pieces?

"i can't do that for you, y/n. i just can't give you what you want from me." he stood there, watching you cry.

you couldn't believe it. how could he claim to love you but be perfectly okay with watching you cry in front of him?

"then i'm done, jay. i'm not gonna wait around for you anymore." he nodded.

"if this is what you want, i'm okay with it." he said, disappointed. you knew it was bullshit. you knew he didn't care about what you wanted. what you really wanted was him, but there was no point in telling him that anymore.

you got up to leave and decided to look at him one last time. he was the same person who brought you flowers once a week and told you that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. and now, you didn't know a single thing that was going through his head.

"i'm sorry, jay. that this didn't work out."

he nodded and walked away before you were even out the door. he didn't even care enough to watch you leave. your chest felt heavy as you left the dorm. the moment you closed the door behind you, you collapsed to your knees sobbing.

you knew that jay hadn't really been in the relationship for months, but you couldn't believe it was really over. you had given him everything, and you weren't really sure who you were without him. but it was over, and there was nothing you could do about it.

what you couldn't stop thinking about, though, was that in the end, you were still the one apologizing.

taglist (open): @misokei @nhularin @girlokarina @jaeyunsimswife @hanienie

[anonymousj3ster]

Dolly and Darling

Everyday that passes by, she looks for a door she'll never find. I follow the jester as she speedwalks down another hallway, opening a door, scowling, and slamming it shut again.

"Doncha get tired of this Chuckles?" Jax quips from behind me. I shoot him a pleading look, trying to get him to stop. Pomni turns and scowls at him.

"I mean, you just don't get it do you?" He continues, smirk widening. "You just really can't get it through that head of yours." He strolls up to her. "There. Is. No. Exit." Pomni glares up at him.

"There is. I kno-" She retorts, cut off by the tall rabbit. "Yeah, sure, there was an exit door. But it wasn't an actual exit, was it? No. It was fake." An ugly, cruel edge works it's way into his voice. "Something Caine made because he's too dense to understand what we actually want. But, if you want to waste your life running up and down these halls, thats fine by me." He strolls off, whistling cheerfully, leaving the little fool standing there, glaring after him. I watch her in concern as water leaks out of those firey eyes, gritting her teeth.

"Pomni?"

She turns to me, wiping her eyes with her glove. "I'm f-f-" She stutters. "F-f..." She stops, shoulders slumping taking a wary step towards me. I open my arms for a hug, even though I knew the jester didn't li-

She crashes into my embrace, arms locking around me as she sobs into my dress. I freeze, caught off guard by the normally touch-averse girls hug, before wrapping my arms around her. "You'll be ok." I whisper into her hat. "We'll all be." She sobs something unintelligible as I pat her back. "It's getting late. We should....try to sleep." I say after a few minutes that felt like short eternities. "You'll feel better after some rest." Pomni glances up at me, searching my eyes.

"I...don't want to be alone right now." She admits quietly, testing the waters. "You can sleep in my room if you want." I offer. She eyes me as I feel her relax a little more. "I...think I'd like that...if you don't mind, I mean." She added in a rush.

"Not at all sweetie."

Her pinwheel pupils widen for a moment at the nickname, and I wish and could take them back afraid I'd gone too far. But she just smiles a little, blinking away the last of her tears as she untangles herself from me and makes her down to my room, stopping outside the door with a hint of hesitance on her face. I smile reassuringly at her and open it, holding it open for her to come in. She returns my smile with a shaky one of her own. I sit on my bed, patting the cover in invitation. She trails over, sitting next to me. I scoot over a little making room for her and lie down, pulling the blanket of myself. I shift to the end of the bed, giving her plenty of room. Her face flushes for a moment, before lying down next to me and pulling the blanket up almost over her head, curling into a ball. I turn to face away from her, to make this less awkward. My face flushes as I feel the curve of her back press gently against mine. We lie in comfortable silence listening to each other's breathing slow as the world fades away around us, except the few inches of our backs that had contact, a soothing warmth. My thoughts slow, then fade into breezelike scraps of sentences, too abstract to fully grab onto.

I love you like I want to but it's killing me inside...

Wait.

~~

I slowly wake the next morning, rubbing my eyes. I stiffen as I feel something pressed up against my back, before remembering who was in the bed with me. I move slowly, so not to wake the jester up, sitting up and gazing at her. She was almost completely tangled in the blanket, seemingly in a fetal position. I watch the blanket rise and fall with each breath she takes, until the blanket shifts. Pomni slowly drags the blanket off her head, blinking blearily at me. I blush, getting lost in her vibrant eyes.

"Good morning." I manage to croak out.

"Mor'in." She slurs, rubbing her eyes. The crimson, gold and indigo of her jester suit shines a little in the light, the colors filling my mind. I chew my lip as she stretchs, the bells on her hat jingling, making my heart swell with a new emotion, racing so hard I though it might stop. I was her dolly, her my darling, the perfect digital romance... if she'll give me the chance. I smile at her, at the way she made my heart thump in my chest, the way she made me swoon. This hallucination, new sensation, almost enough to drive me to abstraction. She smiles back, swinging her legs out of bed, still partialy tangled in the blanket and falling to the ground. I get to my feet, reaching down to help her up. "Are you ok?" I ask hurriedly. She just gives me a thumbs up, staying facedown for a moment before slowly grabbing the edge of the bed and pulling herself up. I watch her for a moment to make sure she was really ok before saying anything.

"Should we go eat breakfast?" I ask. She nods and we start our trek to the main circus area. Every day was just the same, and while it didn't bother me anymore, it drove her crazy, knocking on my door every day with more problems that lead her astray.

"Do you want to help me find the exit?"

"Do you have any idea where it might be?"

"Why does Caine not seem to understand he's traumatizing us?"

"Can you help me with this?"

"How do you deal with Jax?"

"Can...I just hang out with you for a bit?"

Honestly it's kinda weird, how she's troubled but my dear would dim the lights and spend the night being sweet. She actually cared about me, treated me like more than a ragdoll, maybe even more than a friend-

"Ragatha?" The jester asks. I snap out of my daydreams, focusing on reality. "You were zoning out." She said a bit shyly. I give her a small smile.

"Sorry."

"No, it's ok. You looked c-" She breaks off abruptly. I blush, but don't say anything.

Neither of us do.

~

We lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. We talked about everything and nothing, about the adventures, about what we thought our real lives might have been like, about Jax's pranks and the meltdowns we've both had. Our long conversation lulls into silence. I glance over at her. It was one of the rare moments where she actually looked...relaxed. She had one arm behind her head, the over thrown over her stomach, a small smile of of genuine contentment. Her pinwheel eyes were large and entrancing, an enticing pit of blue and red I wanted to get lost in forever. The silence stretches on as I lose touch with reality, just gazing at the beauty lying next to me. I blink a few times as I imagine a tear sliding down her face, then another. It takes me a moment to realize I wasn't imagining it.

"Ragatha?"

"Hm?"

"What if we never find an exit?"

"We will." I lie without skipping a beat.

"What if..." She trails off. "The door's I've seen....sometimes they start to vanish. What if...what if your not with me when I find one? What if I have to choose between you and freedom?" She blurts, hiccuping a bit with sobs. I rise onto an elbow, cupping her face with my other hand.

"Hey." I murmur softly, wiping away a tear with my thumb. "Then you'll wait for me, my darling." She turns her head away, opening her mouth to voice more worries. "Look into my eye." Pinwheel eyes dart to mine, glassy from tears.

"I know it's kinda scary but I trust you'll be alright. My own problems get harder, but when I hear your laughter..." I lean a bit closer, lowering my voice slightly. "They all melt away." I move even closer, not taking my eyes off hers. The fools eyes shrink slightly as I hear her breathing speed up, before dilating again. My heart pounds. It feels like I'm going insane with how much I think of her everyday. The attraction was taking over, pulling me closer and closer to this girl who kind of awkward with her words and her ways, making butterflys stir in my stomach with words and actions sweeter than sugarcane. I want to tell her how I feel so bad it hurts. Whys it so hard to say? I wanted her to just pull it out of me, even if it makes me break at the seams, because she makes me go crazy.

"Pomni..."

"Y-yeah?"

"Do you..." I clear my throat, feeling a bit like I might vomit up the butterflies in my stomach. "We...we could be together. L-like, more than friends...? Since we might end up stuck here forever...I wouldn't mind spending forever...with you." The jesters pupils widen. I stare into them, a deer in headlights, before abruptly sitting up. "Sorry. Th-that was dumb..." I laugh nervously.

I feel her hand on my arm, and before I can move she sits up, staring into my eye, before moving her face closer and closer to me, until...

Her lips brush mine. I close my eyes I lean into the kiss, not minding an eternity in hell if my darling stayed by my side.

[ultimate-shipper-blog]

Pt. 7

Lydia escapes the house early the next morning, the sun is barely up. Dew on the grass. She needs to think seriously. She's taking a walk around town seeing how far she can get before she gets tired and turns back. The problem is she doesn't think she'll get tired. She thinks she could walk forever, she hasn't had a tour like this before of the town her parents grew up in. The quiet before the storm. She has a relatively normal remembrance of her childhood. Everything after age 10 was what every normal kid did.

She feels like an outsider since this is her first run in with the upside down. She still remembers when she was sat down at 15. When she couldn't take the lies anymore and needed to know the truth of what happened to her dad. She went through all the stages then, she thought they were lying, she felt abandoned by Steve.

But could she blame him? For choosing the world over her?

When her Aunt El lifted her in the air her whole world's perception changed.

She comes across a clearing that is filled with trailers. There's a worn sign on the edge of the block she can't quite read. She picks one at random and decides to sit. She figures they won't be up yet and she needs the rest.

She's zoned out when she hears the deep rumble of a truck snap her into reality. She watches the truck park and a man steps out coming towards her. She puts her head down hoping he isn't going to acknowledge her.

She watches the boots get closer to her until they stop directly in front of her.

"Can I help you with somethin?" A gruff voice asks.

She looks up and is face to face with her favorite person. "Wayne?" She's shocked. Out of all the trailers in all the shitty small towns...

"Yeah? Who are ya?"

"Oh! Um. Um. I'm a friend! Of Eddie's! He um told me I could come here if I needed to."

"Huh," he huffs. "A friend huh?" He rolls his eyes. "Look kid I don't just-"

"I'm Steve's cousin! Steve Harrington. Um I was with both of them and I needed some space."

"Steve huh?" He looks her over. "I can see the resemblance."

He reaches around her and unlocks the door. "Well? Get up. Are you coming in or not?"

She scrambles to her feet.

"Yes! Ok! Thank you!"

She misses the soft smile that crosses his face.

----

She's sitting on the mug drinking some coffee wrapped in a blanket. She feels cozy in here. Pictures of her Pa littered around the place. Pictures she's seen growing up around her own house. She wonders if Wayne would notice her sneak into Pa's room. She needs that blackmail material.

Wayne clears his throat.

"You ok kid? I don't think I've seen you blink once, your eyes are just darting around and it's creeping me out."

"Sorry. Sorry for bothering you too."

"I was gonna drink the coffee anyway. Night shift and all that."

He looks her over again.

"What's wrong kid?"

"Um...well...I've been separated from my parents and the rest of my family. So I came here. Um...it's really complicated. It's just uh- UGH" She pulls her hair. "Have you ever felt like you're losing your mind?"

"Only everyday."

"I just need to get home but it's more complicated because it effects other people. I'm the outsider here and I can't afford to make any wrong moves. I just want to do what's right."

"Well...it sounds like you're doing ok so far. I mean you're thinking of others, you have good intentions. You know what you'd like to do you just need the push to finish it. You're a good kid Lydia."

She tries not to tear up. "Thanks Wayne." She stands up and heads toward the door. "I should head out before anyone notices I'm gone." He walks her out, giving her a pat on the head. She's a little down the lot when she turns around and runs to him. She gives him a big hug.

"Thank you Wayne." She squeezes him tighter. She missed him more than she realized.

"No problem kid." He sends her a soft smile.

-----

When she heads back to the Wheelers she sees Steve and Eddie on the front porch. They're huddled together frantically waving their hands. When they see her they run to her grabbing her into a giant group hug.

"Hey what's all this about?" She laughs.

Steve leans back and hold her chin in one of his hands. Eddie's hand is on her shoulder.

"I woke up first," Steve says. "I went around checking on everyone and I couldn't find you. I woke Eddie up and he didn't know where you were either."

Eddie's hands tightens.

"We thought you got zapped back. We didn't get a chance to say goodbye," his voice is so soft like he is trying not to be upset.

"I'm sorry," Lydia says. "I just wanted to go for a walk. I didn't even think about writing a note or anything."

"Buddy system ok munchkin?"

"We just don't want to lose you, we just got you." The two stare into each other's eyes. Lydia thinks they would forget about her if they didn't have an iron grip on her.

"Right." Lydia says, watching them with fond eyes. "We'll stick together, as a family."

"Right," Steve says.

"As a family." Eddie completes the sentence. Bright smile on his face.

----

AN: guys! Here's the treat I mentioned earlier! I love Wayne so I had to write him. And am I purposefully writing more fluff so I don't have to write the dark stuff which means ultimately the end of the fic? Maybe.

I'll see if my brain wants write more today.

PLEASE comment. Everyone who comments gets a big smooch. Legally by law.

Tags:

@tinyplanet95 @jaytriesstrangerthings

@bookworm0690

[starchildren220]

Labour VI

꧁ ꧂

Labour Masterlist

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Charles Xavier x OC

꧁ ꧂

Atara look back and forth between the two men. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking. She could find out but preferably for her headache she wouldn’t.

“I don’t want to fight you.” Atara raised her hands into the air as a type of surrender. The men were obviously still ready for a fight.

“Please, I don’t wanna go back.” Tears welded up in her eyes thinking about what would happen if she came back without Frost. Charles relaxed feeling the truth in her words, Erik not so much. It had been a while since they had last seen each other, and he didn't trust her.

"How do we know we can trust you?" Eriks words are full of spite. His words pained her more than the headache.

"Spätzchen (little sparrow), you know me, I'm your sister." Atara had a sad but hopeful look on her face. Charles looked at Erik.

"So? That doesn't mean anything, and my name is Erik." His words were cold. A chill went down Atara's spin, and tears filled her eyes before pouring out of her eyes. Erik used his powers and wrapped some of the metal bed frame around her wrist.

Atara didn't move or say anything, tears stained her dress and the floor. The scene made Charles heart strings to tug. He grabbed Erik by his collar and pulled him through the open doors of the room into the hallway.

"Can't we give her a chance?" He pleaded with Erik.

"Why would we? She works for Shaw." Erik pulled Charles' hand off his collar.

"She may not want to; didn't you see how she was acting? She didn't want to go back." Charles whispers grew louder.

"Yea I saw her *acting* Charles, don't you see she's tricking us!" Erik didn't even try to keep quiet.

"Let me try something then. It would hurt anything to check." Charles then walked over to Atara. He knelt down to her level and place his left index and middle finger on her temple before doing the same to himself but with his right hand.

She knew what he was trying to do, normally no telepath can enter her mind but Atara allowed Charles. Using his mutation he read through her thoughts and her recent memories. After exiting Atara’s mind he spoke.

“She’s not lying.” Erik was still skeptical but unwrapped the metal from around her wrists. Charles got up before helping Atara. He smiled at her and Erik used the metal around Frost to drag her with them.

꧁ ꧂

The car ride was quiet most of the time. Moria was driving and Erik was in the first seat while Atara and Charles sat in the back with an unconscious Frost.

“So what’s your mutation?” Charles finally broke the silence. Erik looked at the two of them through the rear view mirror.

“I can’t die.” That brought a silence back over the car.

“So you have healing abilities?” Charles asked.

“To put it lightly, yea.” She gave a slight smile. “*Extremely* fast healing.”

“How’d you find out?” Charles was extremely interested by Atara. The memories came like it was yesterday for both Atara and Erik.

“A lot of questions there.” Atara chuckled awkwardly.

“If you don’t want to answer it’s fine.” Charles noticed her hesitant to answer.

“No it’s ok. I got shot.” Atara put it so plainly like she was telling them what was for dinner.

“Oh my god.” Moria let out in a whisper. “How old were you?” She asked.

“Like 16 it was so long ago. I’ve been shot so many times now it doesn’t even matter anymore.” The silence made her think she said something wrong.

“What?” She asked trying to figure out what she said wrong.

“Most people don’t get shot in their lives ever.” Charles grabbed her hand holding in his gently.

“*Oh*.” The reality of the statement settling in.

“What were you shot while you were helping Shaw?” Erik spit out venomously. Atara went rigid, Charles felt her get colder too.

“No.” Atara spoke softly. “You know I never wanted to help him.” She looked back at Erik through the mirror.

“Then why didn’t you stop.” His eyes were full of resentment. “You helped him so you could get special treatment while the rest of us suffered.”

“NO!” She yelled shocking everyone. “I helped him so *you* weren’t hurt, so he wouldn’t do the things he did to me to you.” She choked on her words tears rolling down her red cheeks. She took a deep breath. “I helped him so *you* were safe.”

“What did he do to you.” He turned to face her, this time the anger was for his sister rather than at her. Her breathing was shaky.

“It doesn’t matter.” She pulled her hand away from Charles and messed with her fingers.

“Tell me.” He spoke calm, the complete opposite of what he was actually feeling. He spoke softly. “Please.”

Not wanted to say it out loud she grabbed his hand and brought her other hand to his temple before showing him the memories. It gave her a headache that hurt like hell but she pushed through it.

A few tears left his eyes at the revolting treatment that she had suffered through. When she let go his sadness turned quickly to anger.

“I will make his death slow and painful.” He was staring into Atara’s eyes, he had a determined look. “I promise you that.” Atara smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry for what I had said.” Erik felt truest horrible for his words.

“It’s ok Erik, I could never be mad at you anyway.” Her smile was truly sweet, a smile he didn’t think he deserved.

“I know this isn’t a great time but how could you do that?” Charles interrupted. “You said your mutation was healing.”

“Oh. Uhh, basically I was injected with a lot of other mutants blood, they would mixed some of my blood with the other blood tricking my body into thinking it was mine so when I heal I bring the other blood back, but my body also knew it wasn’t fully mine so when I use the other mutation it gives me a massive headache and sometimes I pass out.”

“That’s horrible.” Moria reinserted herself into the conversation.

“Yea, I guess.” Atara shrugged it off. “Are we almost there?” She felt suffocated by the small car space.

“Yea we’re pulling up now.” It was morning the next day by the time they got back. There were military and Damage galore. Like a hurricane blew through and you know exactly who caused it.

Charles ran over to them calling out. “Raven.” The woman you assumed to be Raven hugged him tightly. There was also some other people, teenagers or young looking adults.

“We've made arrangements for you to be taken home immediately.” Charles spoke to the group.

“We're not going home.” A boy with brown shaggy hair and sunglasses responded.

“What?” Charles was confused.

“He's not going back to prison.” The boy continued.

“He took Angel.” This time it was a boy with short sandy blonde hair and a leather jacket.

“All the more reason for you to leave. This is over.”

“Angels gone, Charles.” Charles turned to Raven as she spoke. “And we can't even save her.” It was silent until Erik spoke from beside Atara.

“We can avenge him.” His hands were on his hips, his tone dead serious. Everyone looked at Erik, also wondering who the girl was next to him.

“Erik, a word, please.” Charles walked past Erik.

“They're just kids.” Charles whispered close to Erik

“No, They were kids. Shaw has his army, we need ours.” Charles sighed before turning around and looking at the group.

“We'll have to train. All of us.” After a few beats of silence he spoke again. “Yes?”

“Yeah.” The blond boy spoke.

“Well, we can't stay here.” A boy with glasses and short brown hair spoke. “Even if they reopen the department, it's not safe. We've got nowhere to go.”

“Yes, we do.” Charles told him.

꧁ ꧂

“This is yours?” The boy with sunglasses who Atara learned his name was Sean, or Banshee. Charles had brought them to a large empty land and a mansion.

“No, it's ours.” Charles turned back to face the group.

“Honestly, Charles. I don't know how you survived,” After scaling the place he turned to Charles. “living in such hardship.”

“Well, it was a hardship softened by me.” The blonde woman; Raven, walked up to Erik and Charles. Charles hugged her and gave her a kiss on the temple.

“Come on. Time for the tour.” Raven started to walk towards the Mansion.

꧁ ꧂

Charles had a gun held against Erik’s head. “You're sure?”

“I'm sure.” Erik nodded.

“All right.” Charles looked pain just holding up the gun to Erik’s head. Atara was watching them from a little whiles away. She thought it was quite sweet he couldn’t pull the trigger.

Charles took a deep breath and closed his eyes opening them again Erik was smiling like a mad man. “No.” He pulled his arm down. “No, I can't. I'm sorry. I can't shoot anybody point blank, let alone my friend.”

“Oh, come on.” Erik grabbed Charles hand and placed the barrel on his head again. “You know I can deflect it. You're always telling me I should push myself.” Charles pulled back again.

“If you know you can deflect it, then you're not challenging yourself.” Charles let out a jumble of sounds mixed with a sigh. “Whatever happened to the man who was trying to raise a submarine?” Charles lifted his eyebrows.

“Wha- I can't.” Erik grabbed the gun. “Something that big? I-I need the situation, the anger.”

“No, the anger is not enough.” Charles argued.

“It's gotten the job done all this time.” Erik argued back.

“It's nearly gotten you killed all this time.” Charles stepped forwards.

“Hey, Come here.”Charles patted Erik arm before doing a quick jog past him. “Let's try something a little more challenging.”

꧁ ꧂

“Now, remember. Scream as hard as you can.” Charles told Banshee and he was sitting on the windowsill with Him on one side and Hank on the other.

“You need the sound waves to be supersonic. Catch them at the right angle and they should carry you.” Hank told him how it worked.

“They should carry me.” Banshee scoffed. “That's reassuring.” Charles patted him on the back. “Good luck.” Both the men on each side retreated back.

“And don't forget to scream.” Banshee did the sign of the cross while looking down. Atara, Raven, Erik, and the blonde boy who she learned was Alex was leaning out the window next door.

Banshee lifted his arms before slowly dropping, he let out a weak scream and hit the floor. Atara held back her laughter at the scene.

꧁ ꧂

1821 words

[a-lonely-dunedain]

(hi sorry yes I'm writing this trope again bc no one can stop me. I need Margim hurt/comfort like I need air ok. she's literally everything 2 me. I'm normal about them. I'm sooo normal about the traumatized berserker lady and her soft healer husband <- *lying*)

------

Blades cut, bones crack, orcs and men die screaming.

There is horror in the familiarity of it all, how readily it comes back, the sick feeling in my stomach, the deafening noise, the smell of sulfur and death, little rivers of blood before my feet, dripping from the hands of this monster they call the Executioner of the Pit. There is horror in how, almost, natural it feels to be here. How the life I built for myself in the north now feels so distant now, like a foolish dream, one that I have now awoken from and found myself back in the Pit of Thorzhaf.

At some point, I wake up from that nightmare. It does little to help. Ah, so it’s going to be one of those nights.

I sit up and rub the sleep away from my eyes with shaking hands. I shouldn’t expect to get any more of it now anyway, not when my sleeping mind has seen fit to torment me so every time I close my eyes. The house is mostly black, with only a dim trace of light emanating from the dying embers of the firepit, but I can still see clearly enough that it is my home in Lhan Tarren. I turn to see Celeair sleeping soundly in the bundle of blankets next to me, I’m relieved I did not wake him.

I can hear the rain outside, I try to find it comforting, for there was no rain in Mordor. The sound is usually a boon in quieting those memories, yet I do not think anything will drown them forever. Especially not tonight. 

I take deep, steady breaths, like Celeair told me to, but my heart still thrashes in my chest like a caged animal.

I know I am not in Mordor, I know I know I know, I am safe here, but the memory is so strong now, it drowns out all other sensations. I listen to the rain, I still hear screams. I grip the blanket with white knuckles, trying to feel its softness, but I still feel blades beneath my skin. A low rumbling of thunder becomes the uneasy murmurs of Orodruin, for a moment I can taste ash in the air, feel its heat on my skin.

This isn’t working. Unnamed and irrational terror grips my heart once again, and it will not let go so easily.

I consider waking Celeair. He could help. I want to let him hold me again. I need his soft voice and gentle hands to drive away this… this madness.

But my throat tightens and my hands tremble, my eyes burn with uncried tears. An all too familiar fear seizes my heart now. I could not speak without my voice breaking, I feel weak and pathetic. I cannot let him see me like this. I stand up, quickly and quietly as I can, and head outside. 

The rain pours down in heavy, loud sheets. The cold water shocks my skin as I walk further out. That’s good. Cold is good. It’s far away from Thorzhaf. I lift my face to the black sky and let the water wash over my face, quenching the burning in my eyes. The rain is loud, everything else seems quiet. Finally. I stand there for a long while, letting the rain be the only thing I feel, hear, and think as it soaks through my hair and clothes. I finally feel like I can breathe again.

I do not know how long it's been, but I guess I should head inside soon, although I am reluctant to leave this cold reprieve, everything I came out here to escape is all too likely to come back then. Maybe I can stay out a little longer.

I thought I heard someone say something, that’s odd-

“Margim…?” Celeair’s voice almost makes me jump, how long has he been out here? I see him standing nearby with his cloak drawn tightly around him, straining his eyes to see me in the darkness.

“Yes, I’m here,” I answer quietly, barely being heard over the rain.

“Are you alright?” A rhetorical question, for he already knows that the answer, if not an outright ‘no’, is most certainly not ‘yes’. I think that normally— and I will fully admit my point of reference for ‘normal’ is shaky at best— most people do not stand out in thunderstorms in the middle of the night when they’re having a good time. Suffice to say, I’m in no position to lie to him. But I hesitate, the worry in his eyes fills me with shame. “I… do not know,” I mutter in response.

He steps forward and gently takes my arm in his hands, “let’s go back inside,” he says softly, “I think this rain will do little good for either of us.” he takes a step back towards the door, and I wordlessly follow him back into the house. 

He wastes no time in stoking the firepit and providing it with fresh logs, and soon enough the room is lit up with an inviting orange glow. I stand nearby, half expecting an interrogation as to the reason I was seemingly trying to catch my death of cold, but Celeair asks nothing of me. Instead he just sits down in the small pile of furs near the fire, leaving plenty of room for me beside him. 

“Well, you’re not going to get very dry over there” he looks at me expectantly, but I can still detect concern in his voice. Reluctantly I sit down next to him, the heat from the fire feels soothing, and I try not to let it remind me of anything else.

“...I’m sorry,” I murmur, “I did not mean to wake you.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” he says plainly, stretching out his hands to the fire to warm them “Truly, I think being awake is the least of my concerns at the moment.”

“It was only a nightmare, I did not mean to trouble you over it,” I look away from him, ashamed “I just… needed to clear my head.”

“You know, you don’t have to worry about waking me up next time, if you think it could be of any help. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I know… I wanted to but I… I don’t know why I couldn’t," the words come haltingly from me "It’s just… I felt so weak, on the brink of shattering, I couldn’t… I didn’t want you to see me like that.” my brow furrows in frustration, I make it sound like a matter of wounded pride, but that is not what I’m trying to say to him. I am not a prideful woman, I think there is little for me to be proud of. It’s just that Celeair is not a fighter, he knows not how to wield a blade nor has any desire to, so to a large extent he relies on me for protection. I don’t like letting him see me so weak. I want him to feel safe around me, like I can protect him from all harm, but how can he when I cannot even protect myself from myself? When I can be broken by a mere memory? I hate the thought of anyone seeing me in such a state, especially him.

Celeair reaches for my hand and gently holds it, his fingers slotting perfectly between my own. He says nothing, merely offering a simple gesture of comfort as he sits in thoughtful silence.

“In my line of work I see everyone at their lowest,” he says quietly after some thought, “rendered helpless by sickness or injury. I’ve tended to everyone from the common man to the mightiest of warriors, and never thought any less of them for it,” he gives my hand a gentle reassuring squeeze, “because no one is untouchable. You aren’t weak for being hurt.”

“I certainly don’t feel very strong either,” the slight tremble in my voice betrays that fact all too well.

“No one does, not when they’re in this much pain." his thumb gently bushes mine in a soothing motion, "It’s nothing to be ashamed of, especially after everything you’ve lived through.”

I just look on into the fire, not knowing what to say. I know he’s telling the truth, I know he is the last person in the world who would ever think less of me for even a display as pathetic as this, but it still feels pathetic nonetheless.

And, I do not think it’s just that… the thought of allowing myself to be so broken, openly, for someone to see -even someone I trust as much as Celeair- just feels so wrong. Terrifying, actually. Weakness and fear go hand in hand for me, where one is the other follows closely behind. If I am weak I am afraid, weakness meant death in Mordor, and it is an instinct that is not easily unlearned. I know that no harm will come to me here, but my heart never seems to believe it. 

“I am not ashamed, I’m just afraid.” I finally croak out, wishing my voice would not so readily betray the fact that I am on the brink of tears. I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut, desperately trying to bury the sorrow welling up in my eyes. To my credit, after a few shaky breaths, I manage it.

“Is there anything I might do to help?” he asks.

I pause in thought, I don’t know if there’s anything he can do to make this go away, but… “a hug couldn’t hurt,” I reply sheepishly.

Swiftly but gently Celeair puts his arms around my waist and pulls himself close to me. I instinctively return the hug, wrapping my arms tightly around him desperate to feel his warmth.

…and forgetting that my clothes have not yet had time to dry. “Oh. Now I’ve gone and soaked you too…” I mumble apologetically.

“Oh noo, how horrible,” he says with a soft laugh, laying his head on my shoulder as he snuggles closer to me, completely undeterred by my sopping wet clothes “I suppose we’ll simply have to huddle for warmth then, nothing else to be done about it.” I cannot help but smile slightly at his words. It’s a good thing he doesn't mind, because I do not plan to let go of him anytime soon. It's hard to think about much else when I'm holding him like this.

Everything is finally quiet again.

[somniarestellae]

The master of Earth walked silently through the hall, knowing every floorboard and crack all too well. His weight shifted with each careful movement- one would not think a man of his size could move gracefully. But he was muscular, not fat- and fully in control. Narrowed eyes swept the space around him as he moved, seemingly headed for a goal. His dark skin and clothing help him be even less noticeable.

Suddenly, a door creaked open a few feet away, and the man froze. He listened, carefully. The handle had not moved, leaving the only explanation to be that it had been left open. What he heard next, however, struck fear into the very depth of his soul.

"Cole... COLE!!" A very familiar voice sobbed in despair, and thrashing was heard in the room. That voice.. It sounded so heartbroken and afraid. Old instincts kicked in for the man and he rushed into the room, fully alert and ready. Only... there was no danger to be found.

Jay was curled in a tight ball on his floor, thrashing about and sobbing in his sleep. It became clear to Cole that what he had perceived as danger was only his best friend having a nightmare. The tall man sighed and allowed himself to relax, calming down. It wouldn't be wise to scare the element of Lightning, Cole knew from experience. So instead he sat down beside the other, and was about to speak when Jay cried out again.

“No!! No don't leave me, stay with me please I NEED you!!” His voice was already hoarse from crying in his sleep. Cole leaned down to try and wake him with Jay woke with a scream of terror and heartbreak.

“Woah- easy, firefly..” Cole watched as Jay's eyes found him in the dark, the normally sweet amber eyes filled with tears. “I'm right here, I've got you.”

Jay sat up, one hand held to his chest as he struggled to release his panic and fear. Cole wrapped one strong arm around the slender, shaking man and pulled him close, taking Jay's other hand and pressing it to his own heart.

“See? I'm right here. I'm OK. It was just a dream, my firefly..” Cole whispered, feeling Jay melt into his arms as he calmed from the nightmare. “I'm here with you and I'm not going anywhere- I promise.”

Reluctant to let Jay go now, Cole carefully stood, lifting him up into a bridal carry, and taking him to the bed. He then sat down, and tucked Jay in tenderly before lying down beside him. “I'll be right here, he murmured as Jay relaxed and nestled close.

And if the two were found the next morning, wrapped around each other, Jay held securely in Cole's arms? Well, that's their business, isn't it?

[fight-the-corn]

sbi x reader part 8

A few days later, Wilbur reached out to me. I felt my phone buzz and when I checked it, I saw the following message:

W: hey! how r u?

I smiled as I responded.

O: im good, hbu?

The answer was instantaneous.

W: ive been good! u wanna come over to our house for dinner tmrw? we miss u!!

Dinner. Usually, I had to get food made for my parents. But, if I timed it right, I could feed them then sneak out?

O: what time were you thinking?

W: probs around six? if I wanna change it tho that's fine idc

O: any chance we could do seven, or is that too late?

W: great! that totally works!! looking forward to it!!

O: loved " great! that totally works!! looking forward to it!!"

That have me enough time to get food to my parents by six, then be at the Craft's house by seven. Call it stupid or selfish for choosing the villains, but at least they made me feel safe. I went to bed that night with a smile on my face for the first time in a while.

---

I got through the next day happier than normal, having something to look forward to. By early evening, food was done and two plates were made up. It wasn't suspicious that I didn't have a plate, I don't usually get one. My parents prefer to eat alone.

At six o'clock, I set their plates on the table, ran upstairs, and slipped out the window. My heart was pounding in my chest, terrified of the punishment I was risking by leaving. It was worth it though, I reminded myself. I was going to get to spend time with an amazing family, and I was going to have fun, and it was going to be awesome.

I made it to the Craft house by 6:30, knocking on the door. Tommy opened it, grinning. "THE WOMAN HAS ARRIVED! Come in, come in," he beckoned me inside. I smiled as he led me to the table where I sat, and Phil brought a plate over and they all sat around the table.

Dinner was fun. Lots of jokes, lots of smiling. No alcohol in sight. I was getting comfortable with the family. Techno suggested game night, then wiped the floor with us in Scattergories. After, Tommy insisted on Twister, which led to Phil calling colors and Wilbur just trying to get in Tommy's way as much as possible. I fell over second, after Tommy, because Wilbur had tripped him and I laughed so hard I fell. Phil then offered up Clue, which suprisingly, I won.

As all good things must come to an end, it was getting to the time I needed to get back home. Finally, I called it.

"Ok, I think it's time for me to go home."

" Awwww, one more game? "

"I'm sorry Wil, I have to go."

Phil stepped in. "Do you need a ride?"

" Yeah, actually, that would be awesome. "

"Ok, I'll take you home. Boys, you're on cleanup duty."

Tommy whined, but Tommy always whined so everyone ignored him.

---

The ride home was nice, I chatted quietly with Phil the whole way home. I learned about his love for gardening, and he told some stories about the boys that almost had me in tears I was laughing so hard. As relaxed as I had felt the whole evening, I couldn't shake the underlying fear that gripped me the whole time. What if my parents found out I was gone? What if something happens with the Crafts, and they decide they don't want me anymore? Even though I've lived with nobody in my corner for so long, it would be so much more painful now that I know what it's like to have people who I feel safe around. As we neared my house, I tentatively spoke.

"Is there any chance you could drop me off around the corner? My parents kind of don't know I went out." I ducked my head as I spoke, not sure if how he would react. Would he be mad? Hate that I was lying to my family?

"Why didn't you tell them?"

" Um, they can just be a little strict sometimes, but I really wanted to come to dinner. I swear, I don't usually do stuff like that. "

"What would happen if they caught you?"

"They probably wouldn't be happy with me. I'd just get in trouble."

" Your shirt slipped during twister."

I froze. He silently pulled over and turned to face me.

"Why is your stomach so bruised?"

I open my mouth, then close it. "I'm clumsy?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you know that I used to be an emergency foster placement care parent? I've seen after effects of some bad homes."

I blink, then duck my head. "I have it under control."

He's quiet for a moment, then: "We can't help you if you don't let us."

My eyes fill with tears at the gesture, because not only was this the first time anyone has offered to help me, but Phil is offering his help after I've been nothing but a pain, spending days in his house recovering, eating his food, crashing his family game nights.

"I understand it feels like a really big thing, but honestly, any paperwork is worth it. We have the money and the resources, and our family loves you. You would be safe. "

I debated it. I really did. I looked up and met his eyes.

"What if I just promise to call you if it gets too bad? "

"I don't want you to have to get to the point of too bad. Also, I don't know if you can fairly identify 'too bad'."

"I called someone that night in the snow."

"Only after you had been out there for multiple hours."

I stay quiet at that. He has a point.

"Look, just call me if you need, okay? Any of us, anywhere, anytime. We can help you."

I nod.

"And I mean that. Even if your parents catch you sneaking back in tonight, or something happens at one in the morning, or you're two cities over, call us. Ok?"

" Okay. Thank you Phil. "

"Of course. Anytime."

I get out of the car. He gives me a hug. I turn, and walk towards the house that is the source of all my darkest fears.

[strawberry-metal]

A gentle hand is placed on Lilicia's shoulder, it belongs to Kazeko.

"Hey... it's ok. It's not all over." Came her voice.

"Yes... we know the truth now. What a wretched man, treating his own beloved like this." Rose speaks next, disgust evident in her voice. As a lovesick person, love was the one thing that must never be tainted in this world to her, and this man did just that. "Love is a treasure, and he didn't value it. Unforgivable! I'm sorry for attacking you and calling you an arrogant brat."

"Hey... I... feel pretty bad about the things I said to you before. I'm sorry. I guess we all got off on the wrong foot just attacking eachother without even TRYING to talk things out first, or figure out what was going on. I thought your friend was a dead victim, and that REALLY launched me into the offensive, especially after you went after one of my friends. I'm sorry. You went through something awful." Shanna speaks after her twin sister.

"I can tell that you're not lying... you're laying it all out for us, and you've been terrified all this time. Like you said, as a succubus, you have to feed on the life energy of others to live, but you don't want to kill them. You want them to live, but you want to live too. You're actually rather noble." Kikumi soon follows with her own speech.

"This whole thing really could've been solved peacefully. As an older sister, I'm embarrassed that I also jumped to violence... but I'm so used to creatures of the night being cruel and dangerous, in my line of work. ...Not like you." She lowered her head a bit, eyebrows upturned. "Even after everything, you did your best not to hurt anybody till you were cornered. ...That whole fight, it really hurt, didn't it? I'm sorry." Kazuno is the last one to speak her apologies.

The younger hamon sister speaks once more. "We'll leave you alone, and help you find another food source, but please let these five go. You have a really good friend right here who is willing to help you. It's Amelia, right? Let her help you."

"Lilicia," Amelia starts, Kazeko moving out of the way for her. "I think... I know of a way that would keep you from starving, and you wouldn't have to hurt anyone anymore."

"What...? What could you possibly have in mind?"

"As you can see, I'm ok. I passed out for a bit but I'm ultimately fine. I'm a vampire, I'm an immortal, so long as I'm not left out in the sun and get the blood I need to survive. You draining me of life energy won't ever kill me. If you're ok with it, I wouldn't mind letting you drain me now and then, at least until you can find another loved one who can accept you as who you are, and love you."

"Wh-What!? But-! You don't have to do that!"

"I want to though. It's ok, we're friends, aren't we? Let me help you! In return... give me some of your blood, ok? That way, we have a fair trade going on, I promise I won't put you in danger by drinking too much."

"I see..." Kazeko whispers. "We never even considered her feeding from a vampire could be the solution. Normally I wouldn't really encourage a friends with benefits scenario but...." She trails off, rejoining her group.

The two creatures of the night, a succubus and a vampire, hug with tears in their eyes.

"Amelia, I'm sorry... thank you. Thank you so much. I'll accept your offer. I'll let the others go too and awaken them!"

"It's ok Lilicia... we can make things right again. I'll be here for you every step of the way!"

The two then turn to face the group.

"You're... a rather noble hearted group of girls, yourselves. You fought Lilicia to protect the other humans when you thought she was a danger, and then you were willing to spare her life so long as she freed her victims, and would even help her find a food source. Who...are you girls?"

"We're the Stardust Crusaders!" Shanna proclaims proudly.

"There's actually 6 more Crusaders but well, they're not here tonight." Kikumi continues.

"There's one last thing we need to do, though, once you get those men and women out of here! Could you please tell us where your ex stays? We're gonna have a nice little....'chat' with him." Kazuno winks.

The succubi blinks before responding. "Well... alright. I'll tell you but... can I make a request if you do go over there...?" "Yes? What?" Rose is the one to respond back.

"If... the girl he was cheating on me with is there... please don't hurt her. I don't think she ever knew that she was the side girl, until she was taken over to his place and he threw me out. She was speechless and shocked the whole time, and she never said anything bad to me. I'm clearly not the best judge of character but, I think she's a good person, and I hope for her sake she doesn't stay in that relationship."

"We understand, sweetie. We won't do or say anything to her if she's there." Kazeko reassures Lilicia one more time.

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

My ADD made me take forever on this. D'X Also I forgot to use 4color this time, whoopsy-

Shanna and Rose models: Me

Kazeko and Kazuno models: @kazekothestrange

Kikumi model: @caffeinated-chaos-bean

Teto and Miku models: kitzabitza

Side chick: Marslssey, TDA, Freya-Vhal, and tehrainbowllama

Skydomes: G123u

Kazeko, Amelia, and Lilicia's floating poses: esizu

Group floating poses: Metra-Philia

Effects:

Autoluminous4, Objectluminous, CheapLens, and SvSSAO: Sovoro

Hypershader and Global Illumination: Beamman

[always-andromeda]

just some thoughts that I've been having as of late; or, reflections on being a fat girl and self image.

(tw: descriptions of fatphobia, my toxic self image, and disordered eating)

I scroll through the endless stream of Tiktok videos. Swipe. Like video. Swipe. Like video. Swipe–

Then I see a woman holding up her phone as she looks at herself in a public restroom mirror. She's wearing jeans and a t-shirt tucked into it. Her long, dark hair is in little waves and her cheeks practically glow a rosy pink.

"I just looked at myself in this mirror and said, damn," she flips her hair and poses with a hand on her hip. "Damn. Like you're joking? This Joanne's bathroom got me acting different."

A simple, innocent twenty second video. Twenty seconds of a woman existing. A woman who happens to have a double chin. A woman who happens to have big arms. A woman who happens to have a tummy. A woman that doesn't look too much unlike I do.

And I hate that this is one of the first things that I feel, but I feel a pit in my stomach. Because as much as I already love and adore this woman and her outfit and her energy and think that she is genuinely beautiful...I know what I'm going to see when I click on the comment section. But I click anyways. Because part of me still wants to be proven wrong.

I am not proven wrong.

"Oh ok"

"Damn is the right reaction 💀"

"...huh"

"is that so..."

"If she fell on me I'd cry"

"I said dayum too but not in a good way"

"The heavy breathing 💀"

Those are just the ones that showed up first; the ones that got hundreds of likes. Sure, there are hundreds of other people who also chime in with the quintessential, "slay, queen!" and "period!" and "as you should, babes!" But those don't show up first. The hate and disbelief and lazy jokes and the rest of the scum floats to the top instead.

And I am left with the lingering emptiness. The feeling whistles in my head like wind blowing through a tunnel that's so long that I can only see a pinprick of light at the end.

I want to know what we ever did to be hated for simply existing. What did I and any other fat person do to deserve having it hammered into our brains that we could never be looked at normally? Because I've lived with this shit for twenty years. From the second that I noticed that my growing body happened to be bigger than the majority of the kids around me, I automatically associated that difference as a negative. Because I also noticed how nearly everyone treated me.

When I had a crush on a boy, all of his friends teased him about it. Because look, the troll is in love with you, buddy; hilarious! Having skinny friends who would assure me that, "No, you're totally not fat!" as if fatness was the worst thing possible. When I had skinny friends who would make fun of fat people and expect me to laugh with them. As if they were pulling me aside and whispering, "You can laugh too! Because you're not like those fat people. You're different. You're a cool fat girl!"

And, gosh, I used to take pride in that! I used to be so happy that my skinny friends could laugh at other fat people...but they would let me laugh with them. All I had to do was never eat around them. And suck in my stomach every time I hung out with them. And hide my body with baggy clothing. And work out just enough so that at least they knew that I wasn't content with having this body.

In their eyes, I was in this weird grey area. I was a fat girl that they could respect. Because I could look at myself and go, "Hey, I know that all of this is ugly. But it's not like I wanted it! In fact, I'm practically killing myself to fix it! Because I will fix it someday! I will fix it and there won't be this flaw of mine that you'll have to tolerate! One day you can look at me and you won't be lying when you say that I'm not fat or that I look so pretty! One day you can actually love me. I promise, I'll earn it."

I never earn their love.

I tear my temple down. I pull myself apart, brick by brick, and attempt to build myself a new home. But the glue is separating and never quite solidifies. With a simple shove, the wall falls. And I weaken them even further with my guttural screams. I obliterate my own body in hopes that the world will look at the rubble and congratulate me.

And they never do.

Because for some people, me simply existing is enough to make them mad. Me having the audacity to stand there, living in a body that they wouldn't want to fuck, is enough to dehumanize me. Enough to think that this is the sign of society's downfall. That all of the ugly and disgusting parts of the world can be attributed to the fact that people like me somehow disrupt their beautiful existence.

And I typically have something more poetic to say. But I simply want to scream. I want to scream every curse I can think that isn't my own name and rip out something that isn't my hair and knock down walls that aren't my own. I want to destroy something that isn't me. Because I'm tired of the target for that rage being me.

For now, that target is this post. This godforsaken vent about one of the things that fills me with the most anxiety and discomfort. One of the issues that I've held so deep that it took me over a year to talk about my body image issues with my therapist. Because I want to feel normal. I want to look at myself like that woman looked at herself in that Joanne's bathroom mirror. And I want to think to myself, "Damn..." And, strangely, even more I want to be able to take a video of myself and not give a single fuck what anyone has to say about it.

I have destroyed myself enough. To my body, I am sorry. The world is unkind enough and I certainly didn't help you along any better. I'm sorry that I could never see you for the wonder that you are. I'm sorry that I starved you, ridiculed you, worked you to the bone, and waged war against you. Because it's a war we were always destined to lose.

This is my white flag. My ceasefire. My peace treaty, my name signed at the bottom in a pink glitter gel pen. I will try to do right by you from now on. I love you.

[hvbris]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

For a few seconds, Violet stayed behind the half-closed door, hovering awkwardly. She was biting her lower lip to stop her limbs from shaking. When she finally let go of it, it was red and swollen.

But the pain had given her a little bit of courage, and so she poked her head through the door, much more timidly than usual. Her dad's office looked rather normal, except she couldn't find her dad anywhere. Her eyes followed her mom as she walked to the desk, and she realized that he was lying on the floor.

She had to bite her lip again, so hard it made her eyes water. Then, she managed a shy step inside the room. With the desk between her father and her, she couldn't really see him. She barely heard his voice at first, but she did manage to hear him as he asked about her. Even now, when he was feeling so unwell, he worried about her. The Hound in her stomach roared, tearing her insides with its teeth.

"I'm ok," she croaked, her knuckles white from gripping her lockpicking tools too firmly. "Can I... do anything? Do you want a glass of water?" She wanted to help. In any way she could. Anything to try and repair what she had broken.

Andrea could see Violet was disturbed and she worried for her in that moment as she stared at the wall. She was at a disadvantage though, Andrea did not know the real source of Violet's guilt and worries and so could only offer some support. "He'll be alright, he wouldn't have wanted you to be worrying about him." She tried, which of course was its own truth.

Violet rushed out of bed to get her kit and Andrea made sure the doors of the other children were closed and they were oblivious to anything going on. She had tried gently knocking on the door and calling to Theo but had not managed to get the door open. Relieved when Violet appeared with her kit, she made room for her to get to work and with the little click, Andrea clearly took in a settling breath too. "Well done," she told Violet with a shaky smile and then carefully stepped into the room, half closing the door behind her in some attempt to keep Violet from seeing.

Inside, Theo was still on the floor, not asleep despite his best efforts. He had not even heard her knocking nor Violet picking the lock and he hardly reacted to Andrea gently calling him and reaching out to touch his shoulder, save to flinch at the contact. "Teddy?" Andrea called again, finally getting through the incessant ringing in his ears of everything from the ward, the sound of the machine starting up, the press of the headset on his temples. He let out a breath and found her hand on his shoulder, locking their fingers together.

"I remember," he said to her quietly, barely above a whisper as she knelt beside him, his shaking starting up again but it wasn't half as bad as it was before, perhaps because of exhaustion and ache rather than real relief but Samantha had got him talking, he was present as Andrea started to fuss over him. "How's Violet?" He checked worriedly.

[trueshellz]

Warmth

Part of my Invisible Illness Series

Warnings: endometriosis, heavy bleeding, pain, cramping, reader crying, cuddles, tummy rubbing, female reader.

Summary: As if a 'normal' period wasn't bad enough...

Shugo dropped his bag in the hallway as he opened the door, eyes squinting in the dim light as he flicked the hallway switch. He couldn't hear you singing in the kitchen like usual, didn't hear the TV blasting a random movie like usual, there was no singing from the bathroom as you sat in the tub surrounded by bubbles.

It was utterly quiet.

He had been a little concerned when you hadn't attended the after game party, you were usually happy to meet his teammates and go out for food. He had trouble keeping Hinata, Bokuto and Atsumu calm while you were around. They were so adamant on showing off and being loud, each of them vying for your attention and causing a scene. But today you had barely spoke to him, one or two word responses to his texts and declining his calls. Instead of staying out with his team he had chosen to leave early and figure out why you were avoiding him so much.

"Babe?"

Head peering around the door he sighed in relief when he saw you lying on the bed curled up on your side. He could hear the small whimpers of distress, each noise tugging at his heart and when he walked over to you, he could feel the wetness on your face from a mixture of tears and sweat. As he squatted down he saw the hot water bottle on your stomach, the plethora of medication on the bedside table and the could see you massaging your stomach in tight circles.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me?"

You shook your head adamantly, you had watched the boys play and celebrated their win at home by yourself. You had been all ready to go out for their post-game meal but your cramps had gone from niggling and irritating to flat out stabbing and devastating. Even after your strongest medications, a heat patch and hot water bottle you could barely move, your boobs were so painful that even your t-shirt against your nipples made you whimper in discomfort.

"Shh, I gotcha. Don't worry."

You couldn't help the whine of pain when the bed dipped, Shugo's hands pulling up your top gently to free your aching breasts. One hand tucked under them to take some of the pressure as he massaged them gently, the other hand rubbing small circles on your stomach. You could feel the heat radiating from his chest against your back, he must have taken his top off and lay behind you. He was always so warm, like your own life sized hot water bottle and had no issues with you using his warmth to ease the pain.

"Any better?"

"A bit... my boobs hurt so much, Meian. And the pills aren't working, I bled through two outfits and got one of your t-shirts dirty too. I'll wash it later, I'm sorry."

"Hey. Hey. Listen to me, do not apologise for this ok? Seeing you in pain kills me and I dont give two shits about my shirt. Just throw the damned thing in the trash, burn it for all I care."

"I just-"

"Baby, listen. Clothes and belongings mean shit all to me, you are the most important person in my life. OK?"

"OK."

Between the warmth of his body and the lull of his voice in your ear, the last thing you recalled was Shugo telling you the crazy antics of the team as your eyes drifted shut and you fell asleep.

[luimagines]

I think I'm on time! Can I request something something... Reader tending to wounds? I ESPECIALLY love Four x Reader (Romantic), and I'm kinda a sucker for hurt/comfort, so it sounded like a perfect mix.

Just something... Idk, Four's hurting and he can't Fix It by himself and maybe he also needs a hug, but then,,, Ta-Da! There Reader is, worried outta their mind for him and getting him to calm down, and yeah maybe it still hurts but Reader is gentle with the bandages and the cleaning and doesn't even have to be asked for a hug or to wipe tears if need be... And Four just knows it'll all be alright now 🥺

(I would be happy with any and/or all of the boys, but Four is my fav ☺️. Honestly just whatever you feel you're up to)

Thank you!!!

... Four it is! Message Received! XD

Don't worry Anon. Four you want? Four you will get.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

“Ouch.” Four hissed and pushed himself up against the wall of the dungeon.

He finished the boss and won the fight, but not without his penance. A large cut had been sliced though his abdomen. It hurt to move. It hurt to so much as rub his tunic against it. And he was losing blood. A lot of it.

“This.. is not one of my finer moments.” Four curses and manages to push himself into a sitting position. He needs to take care of this. He needs to stop the bleeding. He needs to-

The world goes sideways.

Four has to push himself the against the wall and against the hack job if he wants to keep from face planting himself on the dusty, dirty dungeon floor.

He sucks in a breath to stop himself from screaming. He coughs instead and waits for everything to return normal. Surely, he has a fairy somewhere... or a potion. He should have-

“Time? Hyrule? Wild?... Link?” You call from down the hallway. “Man, where is everybody? Am I the only one still in here?”

Four perks up at his name. The true name. He coughs some more and blood dribbled down his chin. It’s getting hard to breathe. The cut might have gone to his lungs.

Your footsteps pause before they pick up speed. “Hey, is anyone-? ..Oh by the grace of god-...”

You run to him. It makes him dizzy.

“Four.. Smithy.” You gulp and look down and take in the situation. Four tries to follow your line of sight but his head lulls to the side instead. “Woah! Hey, hey, none of that, ok?”

You fling yourself back and start looking through your supplies. You pull out a fairy and release it. Instinctively it flies toward Four and gets to work. Four can feel the effects of the magic work through his system and it lessens the pain somewhat. It’s enough to make him coherent once again.

“Hey...” Four coughs again. Tears spring to his eyes and he reaches toward you.

You don’t think twice about grabbing his hand tightly. You don’t mind the blood. You’re too focused on keep Four awake.

“Hey yourself.” You smile, if only to lighten your own panic. “Not your best fight, huh?”

Four coughs and more blood dribbles down his lips but he smiles back. “you should have seen the other guy.”

You somehow find it in yourself to laugh. The fairy starts to clearly grow tired as she flies more sluggishly around the injured hero. She doesn’t have enough magic to fix this, but a lot of leeway has been made.

You gulp and move to get the bandages out of your bag. “You’re going to be, ok?”

“Am I?” Four looks to the side. The world doesn’t fall with the motion and Four shimmies a little in his spot. He’s incredibly sore. He winces but gets settled.

“Yeah.” You reply. “This is nothing.”

Four hums. He knows you’re lying.

You take out your dagger and cut away at his tunic. Four doesn’t seem to notice but he’s mentally saying goodbye. He has more cloth to fix it but the embroidery took forever.

Next thing Four knows, you’re moving him a bit. A curse leaves his mouth again and you pause. “Sorry.”

“You’re ok.” He hisses. “Keep going. I know you’re helping.”

You whine. “I don’t want to make it worse though.”

You pour disinfectant without warning him. Four cries out and tears falls down his cheek.

“Sorry, sorry... I know I just said-” Your hand comes up to wipe away his tears. Four gulps and ignores the iron in his mouth. “It won’t last forever. I promise.”

Four doesn’t reply. He just whimpers instead and leans into your touch.

You keep working, quietly whispering words of encouragement and praise just to get reactions from him.

By the time you’ve finished, Four is thoroughly exhausted. He can’t stop crying from the amount of movement and prodding he’s taken to his wound even with the fairy’s help.

You coo and shush him, wiping his tears as they fall. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’ll be ok. Let’s get you out of here.”

He grunts but reaches toward you once more. He wants to be held. But you get a different idea. Four doesn’t know where you get this strength but you pick him and with a free hand, you pick up what little you would have left behind otherwise.

You start moving again with him in your arms. “Let’s go get Hyrule and fix you up, yeah?”

Four nods. “I’m tired.”

You don’t stop walking but you take a moment to think about your next words. “...Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

Four nods and kisses your cheek, tucking himself into the crook of your neck. “Thank you.”

He falls asleep in seconds.