#a few weeks ago my stomach hurt so bad I woke up in agony and couldn't sleep for like three hours | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

klvbxlove · 4 years ago

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worried (yu x gn! reader)

a/n: God, i’ve got so many ideas for persona 4 fanfics so y’all might see some coming soon LMAO. but no worries, i’ll try my best to write more iida drabbles as well (of course, i could never forget my number one anime husbando. but i’ll be honest, kanji might take his place very soon? maybe? huehuehue). anyways, i saw some persona 4 requests in my inbox (which i did not expect, haha), but i’ll try my best to get to them whenever possible! so until then, enjoy this yu drabble :)

reader type: gender neutral

reader specification(s): none

genre(s): angst, hurt/comfort

trigger warning(s): mentions of car accidents, mentions of injuries

summary: after being a coma from a car accident, you finally woke up, much to the huge relief of your family and friends, especially yu.

word count: 2.6k words

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

key:

(e/c) = eye color (l/n) = last name (y/n) = your name

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

Today should have been another day of you and the Investigation Team hanging out with Yu. He had come back to Inaba a few days ago for another (surprisingly long) break, and you were excited to see him again.

But unfortunately, no. That day did not happen.

Instead, you found yourself in a hospital room. You had woken up almost a week ago, having no idea what had happened. All you remembered is that as soon as you got the strength to sit up from your hospital bed, you felt nothing but excruciating pain. And when you looked down at your body, your (E/C) eyes widened at the extent of your injuries. You were in terrible condition.

Then a few minutes later, the nurses and doctors rushed into your room in complete shock when they realized you woke up. At first, you were confused. But then they explained everything. From what you could recall, you were hanging out with your friends when you saw Yu’s younger cousin, Nanako, standing in the road. Realizing there was a car heading towards her, your instincts caught up with you, and you quickly pushed the younger girl out of the way, which ultimately resulted in you getting hit.

Unfortunately, the impact was so severe that you had slipped into a coma. Even with the surgery (which luckily was a success), you were still fighting for your life. The staff had no idea if you would even wake up.

Your eyes widened in shock. However, the one thing that made your shock worse was when one of the doctors said that there was a chance you would have died due to the severity of your injuries. “Consider yourself lucky,” one of the doctors said, “Because if not, well, there would not be much we could have done to save you,”

You were in disbelief. You could have died?!

WHAT THE HELL?!

You swear, you almost thought your jaw dropped. You did not even know how long you laid there in bed, thinking of the word ‘died.’

D-I-E-D.

There was nothing but silence (you could almost hear a pin drop) for a few minutes after taking in the news.

Then you heard that your family and friends knew of the accident and you would be able to have visitors in a few days. But all you could do was think about how injured you were. It was bad enough that you were in this condition. However, you could not wrap your brain around the fact that you might have been dead.

And then your family would have to set up a funeral for you, bury your body underground, and you would be there until the end of time.

Maybe you would even have a spirit in whatever place you ended up after death.

Oh God, you could not even think to imagine how your family and friends would react. Especially the Investigation Team--

Wait a minute. The Investigation Team!

Now the worry was starting to kick in. You just realized that you have not heard from your friends since you woke up. Not at least one thing from one of the members (and nothing from Nanako either!). You had no idea if anyone had told them what happened to you when you arrived or the fact that you were alive. Hell, you would not be surprised if they thought you were still in a coma and would be for who knows how long.

You sighed, the apprehension still in you. Today was certainly not your day. You just wanted to be able to hang out with Yu again before he had to go back to Tokyo (even though it was a long way from now). But you had no idea when you would be able to leave the hospital! Not for a while, that was for sure. You might as well try to dwell in pure boredom.

Oh yeah, and also try to ignore the pain. You might have felt slightly better for the past few days, but the agony was still shooting in almost every part of your body. You could only hope that all of this will be over soon. And then later, when you were finally feeling better, you would be back home with your family.

“(L/N)?”

You were in the middle of messing with your bedsheets when you heard your name. Looking up, you saw one of the nurses giving you a small smile as she stood next to your bed. You did not even remember hearing her walk towards you. I guess you got a little too caught up with your bedsheets. “How are you feeling now, sweetheart? Any more pain or anything?”

You looked off to steal a glance at one of the hospital walls. The pain was still there, but it was not bothering you compared to the day you woke up. You could say that you were fine (mostly), but you could not find the strength to tell the nurse for some reason. No, you did not care that you looked like you were staring off into the distance pondering about life.

“(L/N)? Are you alright?”

The voice brought you back to reality, and you saw the nurse looking at you with a somewhat concerned look on her face.

“Oh, sorry. I’m fine, for now,” you said, “No pain or anything,”

“Alright,” the nurse smiled in relief. “I know the staff and I keep telling you this so many times, but if you begin to feel pain or need any assistance, you let someone know, okay?”

“I know, thank you,” you nodded.

“Of course,” the nurse looked over at the door, “Now, you got a visitor who wants to see you. Well, he and a couple of his other friends wanted to see you for a while. We had to tell them no since you were still in a coma at the time, but they were determined to go to your room,” she chuckled sheepishly.

“Who is it?” you asked. The last time you knew, your family members had visited first.

“Yu Narukami, one of your classmates,” the nurse answered. “Would you like me to let him in?”

You blinked before nodding. “Yeah, sure,”

It was only a few seconds of silence you faced in your hospital room. During that timespan, you began to feel nervous about your friend being in the same room as you without the Investigation Team (wherever they were). Your heart was almost beating at the thought of it, and you could feel a blush on your cheeks; if you were capable of blushing, that is.

But before you knew it, you instantly recognized the familiar gray-haired male as he walked inside.

Upon his eyes glancing upon you, Yu’s eyes widened. “(Y-Y/N),” he said, “You’re awake.”

You nodded, giving him a weak smile and waving with your free hand. “Yep, I am.”

Yu walked over to sit at the chair next to your bed. “How have you been lately?”

“Slightly better compared to when I woke up, but only slightly,” you replied honestly. “Still feeling some pain. Hopefully, when I get out of the hospital, I’ll feel much better.”

“That’s good to hear,” Yu gave you a small smile.

Then you paused. “How about the others? Are they okay?--” And of course, there was another person you were worried about, “--What about Nanako? Is she hurt?”

“No need to worry, everyone is alright, just a bit shook up after the incident, though,” Yu said, letting out a light chuckle. “Nanako only had some bruises on her legs when you pushed her out of the way, but that was only it. Everyone would have come to visit you alongside me today, but they got busy. And Nanako came down with some sickness. Not the flu or anything major, but we decided to let her rest until she recovers. They promised they would find the time to visit you when they can.”

You sighed in relief. “At least no one else was hurt. As much as I hate being in the hospital in pain, it’s better than seeing Nanako here for the same reason. I think that would hurt more than my injuries, and they hurt like hell, you know?”

“But being treated for severe injuries in the hospital is still frightening, (Y/N),” Yu pointed out, “Everyone watched as you got hit by the car. It was awful, you know? You were bleeding so much from your head, too.” The gray-haired male felt like he was about to wince in pain, seeing the injuries you had.

“Yeah, I honestly dunno much of what happened after getting hit, other than feeling immense pain,” you admitted, scratching your cheek, “I could only hear muffled voices, but that was it. And then I just closed my eyes. Must have slipped into that coma or something afterward.”

“Maybe you did.”

Moments of silence passed, and Yu felt a knot in his stomach. It had been like that for almost a week. Every time he would think of you in your hospital room in a coma, he would have to go somewhere else alone to relieve his thoughts. But even then, it still was not enough to help him. How could he even talk about his feelings to someone? Yu was aware he had the other members on the Investigation Team to talk to, but he could see them struggling.

There was only one person he could talk to about it.

“(Y/N), I-- Listen,” Yu spoke up in seriousness. Once you looked up at him after staring at your cast, he continued, “I have no idea how else I’m going to begin talking about this. But do you realize how happy I-- no, we are that you’re alive?”

Huh?

Okay, that took me off guard.

You had to admit you were puzzled. How were you supposed to answer that? It was not as if you could put yourself in the shoes of one of your friends. You did not even know what it was like to wait for someone to come out of their coma. So really, you could only shrug at his question.

“I remembered when the nurses told us you slipped into a coma and you would need surgery," Yu continued, "God, we were just in shock. No one said anything; you could hear a pin drop in the waiting room. But as soon as they left us alone, we just started crying, you know. Silently, though. But Teddie was the only one wailing.

“And Nanako?” Yu paused a bit before picking back up, “Well, at first, she looked like she was trying to hold back her tears. That is until we went back to my house. She just started sobbing, saying how it was her fault that you were hurt. She blamed herself for being on the road since she knew it was dangerous. Of course, we kept telling her that it wasn’t her fault, but it was no help. Not even Uncle was able to calm Nanako down, and so she just cried until she fell asleep.”

If your heart could physically break, it might as well be in a million pieces by now. Your injuries were suddenly hurting way less than seeing Nanako sobbing.

Meanwhile, Yu looked down at his lap as he felt himself about to shake. “It hurts so much just seeing her upset. And Nanako still blames herself to this day. By that point, it felt like there was not anything else the rest of us could do other than to dwell in sadness. We even had to wait to visit you at the time since the nurses wouldn’t allow any visitors. I just hated not knowing if you were going to live. I hated thinking that there was a chance you would die.”

Something caught your eyes.

Teardrops.

They were coming out of his eyes and falling onto his lap.

You could even hear small cries coming from him.

Oh God, no.

Why did this hurt a lot?

“DAMN IT!”

You felt yourself jump hearing Yu yell out like that. But what startled you most (it made a squeal come out of you) was when the gray-haired male suddenly engulfed you into a warm hug. The grip was not tight enough to where you could not breathe, but you could tell he was holding onto you as if you were going to slip out of his reach. Yu rested his head against your shoulder, and you were beginning to feel tears staining your hospital gown. It did not even matter that there were butterflies in your stomach.

“D-Damn it, (Y/N),” you heard his voice almost cracking, “You gave us a scare there! I know it would be rude to blame you for getting into that accident since you weren’t asking to get hit by a car. And, of course, I am incredibly thankful that you saved Nanako from getting hurt. But still! I could go over and over again about how relieved we were when we heard you had woken up. We thought it would never happen and that you would never make it.”

“Yu...”

You felt tears in the corners of your eyes. Damn, you were getting emotional. If there was one thing you hated, it was seeing someone close to you (especially if it was someone you loved) so upset that they cried. And that was what Yu was doing. So you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back. His grip on you tightened, but you did not care. All you wanted was for him to let out his tears.

Once his cries had turned into sniffles, he lifted his head to make eye contact with you. You could feel your tears pouring out just seeing his tears. You cupped his cheeks with your hands.

“I’m sorry about that, (Y/N),” Yu mumbled.

“No need for an apology,” you assured him. “I know how you-- no, I know I’ll never fully understand what it was like for you guys after the car accident. I mean, how could I? But still, I had no intention of scaring you guys.”

More silence passed. God, you had no idea what to say at that point. You had no idea how your other friends had been coping through this time, but it was evident there were tears shed. Besides Nanako, you did not even want to imagine their disheartened faces. You knew that you had to comfort Yu in some way. But how?

You sighed.

Saying this might as well work.

“Look...Yu, listen to me,” you found your voice as you looked into his eyes. “I know you and the others are still upset. I get it. But please don’t go dwelling on the past anymore, okay? Yes, it was a scary situation that should NOT have happened-- it sucked that it even occurred right when you were visiting us --but in the end, I’m alright. Of course, it will take a while for me to recover, but I will do my best to get through this as quickly as possible for you and everyone else.

“So please,” your thumbs began to gently wipe at Yu’s on pouring tears, “don’t cry anymore. I promise you I’ll be alright.”

That was when a sudden bolt of bravery came from inside you. So you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek.

You spoke every word as if you meant it (because you did!). You no longer wanted to be a burden to everyone around you. You worried your family and friends enough in the hospital, so the least you could do was make it through your recovery. All you could hope was for Yu to be reassured by everything you said.

And thankfully, it worked as he gave you a nod and a tearful smile (you could almost see a light blush covering his cheeks from the kiss). Yu hugged you again, placing his forehead against your shoulder. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he mumbled, “Thank you so much,”

“You’re welcome,” you whispered.

#persona 4 #persona #persona 4 x reader #persona 4 imagines #persona imagines #yu narukami #fanfiction #persona 4 golden #p4g #yu narukami x reader #oneshot #gn reader #x reader #kristin's writings

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thetomorrowshow · 3 years ago

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unless you take your army back ch. 2

First chapter - Read on AO3!

This chapter is a lot longer than I thought it was that’s my bad

cw: blood, intense depictions of injuries, food, flashbacks

When Crutchie woke, it was with a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He knew that while he was not waking up from a nightmare, he would be waking into one. Another day either working hard for nothing or locked in a tiny closet, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Something was different, though. For one thing, he wasn’t quite sure where he was. He was on something soft, which couldn’t count as any surface in the Refuge. Not only that, but he didn’t feel squished or anything. There wasn’t anyone else near him, which crossed off the idea that he’d been dragged back to the room full of boys, but there was plenty of room to stretch out, so definitely not in a closet.

Maybe he had died.

As he became more aware of his body, though, he still felt pained--so probably not dead. He used to visit a church when he’d been on the streets by himself, less for concern of his mortal soul and more for the communion wafers and occasional Sunday afternoon luncheons, but he’d listened to what had been taught there. Apparently, if he died and went to Heaven he’d be healed. He had to be going to Heaven, right? He’d been baptized as a baby, after all. He didn’t really believe in it these days, but that didn’t mean he was a bad person.

He would’ve continued wondering about the fate of his soul had he not tried to flex his fingers and found both hands immobile--not because of the pain in them, but because his fingers were all wrapped up. So was his left arm, actually, which was distantly throbbing.

Reluctantly, Crutchie forced his eyes to open, grimacing at how crusty they felt. Light flooded his vision and he closed them almost immediately, then opened them a pinch.

He had no clue where he was. All he could see was a wooden ceiling. How was that supposed to help him?

It smelled sort of familiar, but it was also silent, aside from a bird chirping outside the window--which was right beside him. Actually, as he took a bigger breath (not too big, his chest was all tight and achy), he recognized something small--and then so many things, all in the scent of the air.

This was the lodging house, and with it, the smell of the soap they all used, Race’s cigar, newspapers, coffee, sweat, and that weird cologne that Jack and Romeo sometimes spent a few pennies on. He was home.

Crutchie let out a sigh. He was exhausted. Maybe he could just go back to sleep.

“Crutchie?”

So much for that idea. Crutchie shifted his vision a little, wincing as his neck cramped. Jack was sat there beside him, charcoal pencil frozen where it was poised on a paper. He looked okay, aside from a black eye. He also looked scared, for some reason, almost guilty. What had happened? Why was Crutchie at the lodging house? Why did Jack look like he was hiding something?

Crutchie decided to not bring it up at the moment, but couldn’t stop wondering. He didn’t remember all of what had happened since he’d been awoken the other morning by the Refuge kids with a cup of water, but he had vague recollections of beatings and closets and being trapped under the floor. He could also remember seeing Katherine, but that part might have been a hallucination. More importantly, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here and what had made Snyder let him go. If Jack had traded someone--

“How’re ya feeling?” Jack asked, and Crutchie could hear his words dripping with fatigue. He wondered how long he’d been out, that Jack had been sitting at his side for.

Crutchie opened his mouth, lips cracking, and paused at the pain that came when he tried to make his voice work. Something was up--Synder, chokin’ you, his brain reminded him. Also no water, dummy. They does that to a voice.

As if Jack knew what he was thinking, he shot up, the paper falling and pencil rolling away. “Gotcha some water waitin’,” he said, taking a few steps out of Crutchie’s line of sight and returning with a tin cup and a bowl. “Also had one o’ the fellas grab some soup from the sistas, so you can has somethin’ ta eat.” He frowned down at the bowl. “It ain’t too warm now, but it should still taste all right.”

Crutchie had the feeling that he ought to smile in thanks, but just couldn’t. He couldn’t even fathom lifting his cheeks that much--they felt oddly large and heavy. His head was pretty cloudy, anyway. It probably wouldn’t even be able to send the instructions to his mouth. Jack held the cup to his lips and he drank--the water was a bit warm, but far better than nothing--begrudgingly, wishing he could hold it himself.

As soon as all the water was gone, Jack was digging a spoon out of his pocket, preparing to feed him. If he had the energy, Crutchie would’ve sputtered in indignation. He could feed himself, thank you very much! He hadn’t let no one feed him except his mother, and that was too long ago for him to remember (he casually shoved down the image of Harley feeding him bites of sandwich, back at the Refuge).

“I can feeds myself,” he croaked out, feeling just that small movement of his mouth stretch his cheeks farther than normal. They must’ve been pretty swollen. Some of the anxious creases around Jack's eyes smoothed out.

“I know ya can,” Jack said, relief evident in his voice. “Lemme help ya sit up, then.”

Crutchie wanted to sit up himself, but he conceded this to Jack. He had to pick his battles, especially when he was so tired.

He gasped when Jack buried his arm under his back, the lashes and memories of them barraging him with agony. Jack pulled away as if he was the one who had been whipped, watching him warily. Crutchie scrunched his eyes closed, trying to stop a tear that was threatening to slip out. He wasn’t weak. He had to show Jack that he could do this.

“Want--want me to, uh, pull ya up by the arm?” Jack offered, and Crutchie nodded jerkily. That sounded bearable; his right arm wasn’t hurt all that bad.

As soon as Jack touched him, though, fear stole Crutchie’s breath. Images of thugs gripping his wrist and dragging him along on dirty floors filled his mind, and he cowered, pulling his body as close together as he could.

Someone was speaking, and Crutchie was about to ignore it until he realized the price he might pay for not following orders. His eyes shot open, his heart racing with a frenzy that seemed to pound on his broken ribs.

“--okay? Kath said your ribs got beat pretty bad, an’ it might be hard for you ta sit up. You good, Crutch?”

That was Jack. That was Jack speaking, and he wasn’t in the Refuge, he was at the lodging house. He just sat up to eat some soup. He was safe.

No matter how many times Crutchie repeated those words to himself, he couldn’t let go of the dark halls of the Refuge, the stink of the guards’ cigars, the pain that was coming at any moment.

“I’s fine,” he gritted out, forcing himself to meet Jack’s eyes. “Jus’, yeah, little bit o’ pain.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so just let it hang in the air between them.

Eventually, Jack helped him form his right hand around the bowl as steady as possible, then stabilized it as he brought it to his lips and drank. It bumped against his cheeks uncomfortably. It was little more than broth, and lukewarm, but Crutchie was grateful for it all the same. The taste of it alone nearly made him sob--the flavor was just so much--but he held it in.

Jack made him drink over half of the bowl before letting him lay back down, which was a much quicker operation than sitting up had been. When he was settled back in the bed, full to bursting and a little more clear on what was happening, he finally asked one of the questions that had been on his mind since he woke.

“Jack? What happened?”

Jack shifted from foot to foot. “With what?”

Crutchie sighed, pulling down his shirt a little to see what was under it. A lot of bandages and some bruises was the answer. “The strike, I s’pose.”

“Right, the strike.” Jack sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “Uh, well, we won.”

Crutchie’s heart leaped. They won? Against Pulitzer, and Wiesel, and the Delanceys, and Snyder, and all the police officers? Once again, he felt that he should smile, but just couldn’t find the energy. “Wow,” he said instead, swallowing around the pain in his throat. They had won. “How’d you get me out?”

There wasn’t an answer from Jack for a long time, and after a moment Crutchie looked over at him. He was looking down, cap in his hands, twisting it around anxiously.

“Governor Roosevelt,” he said, not looking up. His voice was unreadable. “Kath got him ta shut down the Refuge, for good. Ain’t nobody goin’ back there.”

Wow. They really won. How had that even happened? Crutchie couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that there would be no more Snyder chasing kids on the street. There had to be someone, right? Someone else who wanted to hurt kids for the fun of it?

“Y-you awake, buddy?”

Crutchie blinked, realizing his eyes had closed. “Yeah,” he whispered. Jack was watching him again, his eyes red. “Jus’ . . . jus’ tired.” And he was. He felt like if he didn’t sleep soon, he might just fade away. Even now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for a week straight. He was so tired.

“Sleep, nitwit. Ya gots the time.”

Crutchie gladly accepted the invitation.

“Shh! Ya don’t want ‘im wakin’ up, do ya?”

“A little bit, yeah!”

“We wants to see ‘im!”

Crutchie groaned. The voices quieted down for a second with a few hushed gasps and shushes, then started up again when he made no effort to move. This bed was almost unbearably comfortable.

“C’mon, Jack! He’s practic’ly a’ready awake.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t. He’s restin’, he don’t need you lot tirin’ him out.”

“It’s our room too.”

“Yeah! You has to let us in, who put you in charge?”

“. . . You’s all did, Romeo.”

Crutchie snorted through his nose, then opened his eyes. He still felt bone tired, but a little like he could function. He turned his head, slowly this time, to see Jack a few feet away, holding back a good dozen newsies. Once they saw him moving, their faces lit up excitedly. Elmer pointed, hopping a little bit, and Jack looked over his shoulder to meet Crutchie’s eyes.

Immediately, he dropped his defenses and rushed to Crutchie’s side. He produced a tin cup from nowhere--and a different one from earlier?--and pushed it to his lips. “Hey, Crutch. How ya feelin’?”

Crutchie sipped and rolled his eyes, coughing a little when that sent a headache pounding. “Bit better,” he managed through his swollen jaw, pulling away from the drink. “Why’s my arm not workin’?”

Jack’s face flashed guiltily. “‘S broken,” he said, brushing hair out of Crutchie’s face. “Katherine said you’ll be wrapped up in it about three weeks, maybe more.”

Crutchie frowned. How was he supposed to sell? His right arm needed to hold his crutch, so what was supposed to be waving around the papers? His thoughts were interrupted by Jack making him drink some more water.

“I gots more food here, for ya,” Jack began. “Don’t want ya goin’ hungry. And then--”

“Jack?”

Jack went silent instantly, looking so intensely at Crutchie that he started to wonder if Jack thought he was dying. Maybe he was dying. He certainly felt like it. He shook himself. “Can I see the fellas?”

Jack turned around. The newsies, still standing in the middle of the room, waved.

“Yeah, why not,” he said, pulling his hat off and running a hand through his hair. “One at a time, though,” he added when they all began to rush forward. “You’s gonna give him a heart attack, all o’ you’s at once.”, during which Crutchie propped himself up into almost a sitting position. His bad leg was almost completely deadweight, and it hurt like he’d stuck it in a bonfire. Still, he dragged it up a little bit, trying to make room for another boy to sit on the bed. Breathing sitting up made his chest burn and back smart, but he could deal with it for right now. He just wanted to see his friends.

Specs sat down first, smiling in that gentle way of his. “Hey, Crutch,” he said. “Lookin’ a bit worse than last time I seen ya, huh? Feelin’ any better?”

“Jus’ a bit, and okay, I guess,” Crutchie admitted, once again finding smiling to be too much effort. “Jack says we won, I think. How’s it feel?”

Specs sighed happily. “Feels free. Can’t wait to get ya outta bed and into the streets, see how ‘cited the boys are ‘bout sellin’.”

“Me neither,” Crutchie said. Specs nodded, then patted him awkwardly on the knee before standing up. He was almost immediately replaced by Race and Albert, Race falling onto the bed with flourish, Albert standing beside it with his thumbs in his suspenders.

“Feelin’ any better, Crutchie?” Albert asked. Crutchie waved his arm.

“Loads,” he said, trying to not make any sounds as Race jostled him. “Bet I’ll be up sellin’ papes with you’s in no time.”

Albert guffawed; Race smiled a little piteously. “Glad to see that Crutchie spirit,” Race said, poking him in the side. Crutchie couldn’t help a gasp, bit his tongue too late to hide it. The smile completely dropped from both of their faces.

“Hey, uh,” Albert said, quieter than usual, “Race an’ I--we’s been there. Well, not there ‘xactly, but . . . that place. So we knows it’s hard to get better, an’ it takes time.”

They really didn’t know, Crutchie thought to himself as they stepped away. They didn’t have a public connection to Jack Kelly when they were in there, nor did they have a crippled leg. He was sure it was rough for them, but their experiences were not the same, and he didn’t much appreciate them comparing the two.

“Hey Crutchie! Feelin’ any better?” Elmer.

“I’d feel better if people would stop askin’ me that,” Crutchie grumbled. Elmer laughed, his eyes lighting up.

“Les an’ Davey an’ me made you this,” he said, holding something out. He dropped it in Crutchie’s lap, who stiffly picked it up with bandaged fingers and examined it closely. It was a loop of yarns, braided together in blue, green, and brown to make a bracelet.

“You don’t gotta put it on your wrist now,” Elmer said, obviously proud. “But we all made it! You can sees where I started braidin’ after Les, ‘cuz it gets better there.”

Crutchie felt tears pricking at his eyes as he looked, and yep--there was a section where it went from messy to a little less so. “Thanks, Elmer. I’m . . . I’m touched.” he glanced up into his face, seeing it split into a huge smile. “You wanna put it on my wrist? My fingers ain’t workin’ so well.”

Elmer did so with care, not even hopping back when Crutchie flinched at the touch. Then he gave a little bow and a wave, and darted off.

Next up were Romeo and Henry, who awkwardly told him about their day and asked about his. Seeing as how Crutchie had been unconscious for the majority of the day, there wasn’t much conversation to be made on his end. It was nice to hear about what they’d been doing, though. Crutchie could usually see Romeo from his selling spot, and they sometimes sold together.

“Some o’ the regulars is askin’ after you,” Romeo told him with a pat on the shoulder. Crutchie didn’t have the energy to hide his wince. “Told ‘em they oughtta be proud o’ you, you took on the Delanceys and won!”

Crutchie choked. “I ain’t done anything of the sort!” he sputtered. Romeo chuckled.

“I’m a newsie, what can I say?” he shrugged and patted his shoulder again, then wandered off with a bit of a dazed look on his face. Henry gave him a quick goodbye and followed.

Tommy Boy was just saying hello when Jack began to usher them out, saying something about how they needed to go run off their energy somewhere not here. For once, Crutchie was grateful for Jack’s motherhenning. He felt like he was going to shake right out of his body. The newsies were a tactile bunch, and normally Crutchie had no problem with that, but today it made his skin crawl and his brain go bleary. He’d also never been troubled by crowds of any size, but the room was beginning to feel unbearably full and loud.

When he looked up again, everyone but Jack was gone--and Katherine? When had she come in?

Not another person, Crutchie thought, then immediately felt bad. Jack had mentioned her a few times, and he inferred that she was sort of the person who got him out. He could have the civility to talk to her.

“Crutchie, how are you feeling?” Katherine asked, hurrying over. Crutchie bit his tongue to keep from responding rudely.

Katherine looked him over, the smile in her words slowly fading as she took him in. Finally, she met his eyes, and nodded. “Jack was right, you’re looking a lot better than yesterday.”

“Thanks, I think?” Crutchie said, something catching in his sore throat and causing him to cough violently. His chest seized up, his body wracked with agony at the pain that came from the shuddering coughs. When he recovered enough to open his eyes, Jack was holding the cup of water right under his nose.

“Don’ be gettin’ sick on me, Crutchie,” Jack said, sounding more worried than teasing. Crutchie swallowed down the last of the water and coughed one more time.

“I’s gettin’ sick just ta spite you, now,” Crutchie said weakly. Katherine and Jack both laughed, a little wildly, a little wrong. That bothered him, in ways that he couldn’t quite put together. Why didn’t they sound normal?

Something in the smell of the room was starting to make him feel sick. Had he eaten anything since the scraps that one morning? He had, hadn’t he? Jack had given him something earlier. Well, at least he knew there was something in his stomach to be tossed up if it came to that. That had to be easier on his throat than dry heaves.

“Crutchie, you heard that the Refuge has been shut down for good, haven’t you?” asked Katherine, trying to find somewhere to pat him kindly. She settled on the edge of the mattress.

Wait, what?

The Refuge? Shut down--for good? That wasn’t possible, was it? Snyder had a perfect reputation with the city. They’d never shut down a place that worked so well because a few teenage boys told them to.

“It what?” he said out loud, looking between Jack and Katherine, hoping to see some sign of humor. They had to be pulling his leg. Katherine only nodded, though, and Jack gave him a concerned glance.

“I told ya that already,” Jack said. “Remember? This mornin’?”

Crutchie thought back. Maybe? He remembered pieces of their conversation, but it was pretty blurry. He also remembered seeing a lizard crawl up the windowpane. He’d assumed it was a dream, but maybe it had actually happened. That was pretty cool.

“Anyway, I showed Governor Roosevelt some of Jack’s drawings,” Katherine pushed on. “He investigated it immediately, and went personally to shut it down and arrest that awful man!”

“The governor,” Crutchie repeated, dumbfounded. Jack had ridden in the back of his carriage once. Had he met the governor and not even been conscious?

Now that he thought about it, though, he had vague flashes . . . a man with a mustache saying something to someone out of sight . . . the same man holding water for him to drink . . . had he met the governor and let the man baby him?

“The doctor said he doesn’t know what your recovery will look like, but he thinks you’ll make a full one if nothing gets infected,” Katherine told him, and Crutchie was torn from his mortification to incredulation.

“A doctor?” He couldn’t afford a doctor! He didn’t even have enough money saved to miss more than a few days of work, how would he--

“Don’t worry,” Katherine said, waving him off with a little laugh, “Governor Roosevelt handled the cost. You were concerned about it when it happened, too.”

Crutchie made himself relax a little bit. He couldn’t turn down a free handout in his condition, especially not from the governor. The governor.

“And, speaking of. . . .” Katherine trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Jack took her hand and gave her a strained smile. Crutchie looked at the two of them. Were they together?! Why had no one told him?

“I sort of need to change your bandages,” Katherine said apologetically. Crutchie blanched, and she hurried to add, “It’ll be quick! Just clean wrappings--” she waved a bag-- “and some soap and water, then you can rest.”

Yeah, sure, but there was a huge problem. Katherine was a girl. It wasn’t that she was weak for being a girl or anything, but Crutchie really didn’t want to subject a lady to the mess that was his body right now. Or anyone, for that matter. In fact, if they could both just leave the room and give him the bandages and stinging stuff, he’d get it done himself.

When he tried to tell Katherine just that, she snorted. “Crutchie, no offense, but I don’t think you could beat a toddler with pneumonia in a fight right now. There’s no way you could do this yourself, or any way you could stop me or one of the others doing it for you.”

Crutchie’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t stop them. She was right. They could do anything they wanted to him, and he was powerless to do anything. They wouldn’t even need to hold him down.

Crutchie only nodded when she asked him if she could change his bandages, his throat completely dry. Jack watched him for a moment, and Crutchie tried to not look back. He didn’t want Jack to see how petrified he was. After a moment, Jack made up some nonsense excuse about checking on the other boys and left.

Left to get them, probably. Or maybe something to hit him with. Or both. After all, he was a pretty easy target right about now, who wouldn’t want a go? He could barely move, let alone fight back. Crutchie’s stomach turned as an image of Race taking bets on how long he’d be conscious forced itself into his head.

“Can you sit up all the way, Crutchie?” Katherine asked, and he cringed. They were going to make him sit up? Were they going to make him move from this bed, too? It was Jack’s, he’d realized earlier. Jack probably wanted it back.

He pushed himself up, slowly, agonizingly. His head pounded and his back throbbed and his stomach wouldn’t stop sloshing around the water in it, but he sat up anyway, slowly adjusting so that his legs hung off the bed. By the time he was fully sitting up (hunching over like he wanted to made it harder to breathe) Crutchie had broken a light sweat, his hair sticking a little to the back of his neck. Katherine wouldn’t hurt him, right? She was a girl, and she was upper-class. They made other people do that for them.

“I’m going to start with this cut on your cheek, okay? It looks like it’s fine, I just want to make sure it’s clean.”

Crutchie braced himself, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep for a little bit longer. Couldn’t it go back to Jack softly giving him water and drawing while he dozed? That was nice. That was safe. Couldn’t they do that for just a little bit longer before they got to all the bad stuff?

Katherine’s touch on his face made him flinch back, but that was all it was. A touch. A piece of wet cloth, rubbed on his cheek. It wasn’t too bad, so far. It was almost a little nice.

“Your forehead’s pretty warm,” he heard her say, distantly. He didn’t respond. It was taking all his effort to stay still and upright.

Crutchie tried to retreat to the back of his mind as he felt Katherine undoing the buttons on his shirt, but he couldn’t get out of here. He was straining his ears to hear something, anything--the boys bounding upstairs, or cheering, or something like that that would give him time to prepare for what was to come.

He was broken out of it, though, when his already aching chest burst into flames. He cried out, opened his eyes--Katherine was holding a red-stained cloth, looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, “but one of your cuts is infected. It’s going to hurt a bit. Do you think you can focus on me?”

Crutchie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t busy taking as shallow breaths as possible. He could barely focus on anything. He looked down to see the patchwork of bruises and scrapes that was his chest, and saw that yes, the largest one looked irritated and weepy. That one had been giving him trouble from the first day.

Something touched his hand and he started, then stared down at it. Katherine was holding his hand. Why?

“We can wait until you’re ready,” she said, and Crutchie wasn’t sure that he would ever be ready, but nodded as a go-ahead.

He watched now as Katherine gently and carefully cleaned each wound, calming more with each reassuring squeeze of her hand when the liquid stung. Something about her hand in his was comforting, almost grounding. It was as if his perception had been blurred with panic, and her hand cleared the mist enough that he could ground himself against the contact and the quiet openness of the room. He was alive.

Instead of making him move, Katherine climbed over the bed in a very unladylike manner and dressed the marks on his back. This was worse. With no one to hold onto and no way to see what was happening, Crutchie dug the sore fingers of his right hand into his left upper arm. It gave him a sensation to focus on that wasn’t the painful touches on his back, something that he could control. That helped, a little bit. What didn’t help was the fact that Crutchie couldn’t stop staring at the door, waiting for it to burst open at any minute.

Katherine wrapped his torso and helped him get his shirt back on before moving down to his legs, which made Crutchie even more uncomfortable. He tried to shift away, even told her he could do this part, despite knowing full well that he was about two minutes from passing out. She was a lady, it was improper.

Katherine was sympathetic. “I can go get Jack,” she offered. “Or one of the other boys, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

No. No no no no no no no. Couldn’t they do this for a little while longer first? Just Katherine holding his hand and cleaning his chest. She seemed to see his panic, because she immediately softened.

“How about this,” she said. “I’ll only do from the knees down, and then I’ll turn around while you clean the rest, okay?” Crutchie nodded. That sounded okay. Embarrassing, of course, but so much better than the alternative.

Katherine pulled one of the blankets from where it was tucked in and draped it over his legs. With her steadying him, Crutchie managed to get his pants down to his ankles, then let her take over, his face burning. She was a girl, after all. It felt so wrong, to let her clean his legs.

She made quick work of it though, and handed Crutchie the brown bottle of what seemed to be soapy water and the cloth before turning around. He watched her for a moment, making sure she wasn’t going to peek, then quickly yet haltingly rubbed the cloth along his thighs. There luckily was nothing more than bruises and a single cut there, and he was done in a few minutes. By that point, he could barely hold his head up. Instead of pulling his pants back on, he just fell back against the bed, groaning.

Katherine tucked him back in, resting a hand on his forehead again. “Do you think you have a fever?”

That would make a bit of sense, wouldn’t it? It was the middle of summer, it had to be sweltering out, and here he was under three blankets with the window closed. He was sure he had other symptoms too, but he didn’t really remember, so he just shrugged and closed his eyes.

Katherine sighed, rubbing his fingers. “Crutchie, I need you to stay awake for a few minutes. Jack’s bringing you something to eat.”

Crutchie forced his eyes back open. He didn’t want to be awake. He’d been tired this whole time and now his body felt like it was going to fall apart. As if summoned, though, the door at the other end of the room creaked open, and in came Jack, holding a bowl in one hand and some bread in the other.

“I sent Sniper down ta Jacobi’s,” he said by way of introduction. Crutchie tried to move his arms, but they felt weighed down. He didn’t really want to eat, he wanted to sleep. He really wanted to sleep, actually, so badly that he felt his eyes begin to burn with tears. Why weren’t they letting him sleep?

There was bread in front of him and Crutchie stared at it uncomprehendingly. What was he supposed to do with that? He couldn’t take it, his arms weren’t moving.

He blinked and it had been replaced by a bowl of something, which gradually came closer as he watched. Someone wormed a hand underneath his neck to prop his head up, making him shiver and twitch. He didn’t like that at all, but there was nothing he could do. Maybe now they were going to beat him. At least he’d probably be too out of it to notice.

The bowl pressed against his lips and Crutchie opened his mouth, choking as some of its liquid slipped down his throat. That was far more warm than he’d been expecting, not quite searing his tongue, but coming close to it. It drew back again, then more spilled into his mouth. This time, Crutchie drank, paying no mind to the flavor or temperature. He just hoped they would let him sleep after this.

Sure enough, with a few last drops of broth, the bowl was empty and the hand under his neck pulled away, leaving Crutchie to fall back against the pillow. Before his eyes were even closed, he was pulled into darkness.

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witchiswriting · 4 years ago

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A Not So Merry Christmas Chapter 5

Summary: Negan and Lilith meet with an unexpected face from the past.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of violence, Mentions of panic attack.

Characters: Negan x Lilith (OC)

Author’s Note: Wow! We’re so close to the end. I feel bittersweet since it’s my Negan fic ever, saying goodbye to those characters are harder than I thought. Don’t worry though. There’s going to be a sequel, I just don’t know when it’s gonna be ready to posted.

It’s been a month and a half since Negan had started to live in this hell called The Sanctuary. He’d accepted the fact that he’s never going back to the life he once had. The only person he knew from his life before, his best friend or more like ex best friend was now his enemy. Rick Grimes, he was one of the residents of Sanctuary; he didn’t have a room like ordinary workers or saviours. No, he was staying in a cell and lost his hands in a brutal way. He had watched all his family getting slaughtered by Negan.

When Simon led Negan to the cells that day, he found out about the murders he’s caused, and they were a lot. When they came across Rick’s group Negan ordered them to give their half of shit to him. Threatened that otherwise he’d kill them. After particular events, a war took place between the groups Negan terrorised. They came together against Negan, but they still hadn’t the enough numbers to defeat Negan’s kingdom. So, Negan beat them down in a very brutal way.

Rick Grimes was the person who killed Lilith. In a crossfire he shot her in the chest. Although, Negan was the one to blame since he was the reason that Lilith had been here that day.

If he wouldn’t had been this stupid. Cheating on her in another world too.

In that very morning, Lilith walked in on him fucking Amber, at least that’s what Negan thinks her name is. He doesn’t remember anything, doesn’t know anything. He even made Simon tell him how Lilith died. So, that was it. Shocked and very much hurt Lilith left The Sanctuary, and she was too lost in her own mind to notice the trap the Alexandrians had set up.

First, she was captured by Rick. He had no intention to hurt her. She was just another victim to Negan after all but when the saviours came guns blazing Lilith got scared and tried to find a way to escape. She found it but when she threw herself, she felt the heavy bullet ripping through her chest. That’s how she died in arms of Negan.

When Negan stood in front of his ex-friend now enemy’s cell, he felt completely numb. Nothing came out of his mouth. The only voice echoing through the cold walls were Rick’s hatred, accusations, and threats. Negan waited with a stone-cold face. He was too busy to comprehend the situation. After 10 minutes he walked back to his room and refused to come out since then.

Negan sighed, taking a sip from his whiskey. He let a tear fall on his cheek. It’s been too long, and he was now sure that there’s no going back and there’s no Lilith. He’s the man with everything yet nothing.

For the first couple of weeks Negan always slept, thinking that might be the only way to go back to his old life but, of course, it didn’t work. Instead, he woke up to a bloody Lilith standing in front of him and accusing him of letting her die. His nightmares were another thing. There were too real that Negan couldn’t bear to live this agony repeatedly. So, he drowned himself and his sorrows in alcohol. Hoping to numb himself and he almost made it.

Until one night.

He was laying on his stomach in his bed and crying silently. Wishing he had at least one photograph of Lilith though he didn’t know if he could take looking at her beautiful face again. Trying to get some sleep, he closed his already tired eyes. He heard some noise in his bathroom but didn’t care. Probably he was too drunk, and his mind was making up things to torture him more.

He turned on his back and closed his eyes tightly. Wishing dive into deep slumbers of sleep in a few minutes however, the faith had other plans.

A light breeze brushed his beautiful face, slightly waking him up from his semi sleeping state.

There she was, standing in the same sun dress, watching him with an angry expression. Her dark curls were moving lightly in the wind.

He jolted up from the bed. He must have been dreaming or was too drunk again and seeing a hallucination.

Lucille, she was standing all in her glory.

‘’ You really don’t get the concept of second chances, do you Negan?’’ She asked with a sassy tone. It was apparent that she wasn’t pleased with him.

‘’W-what? I’m too drunk and seeing things. Fuck. Lucille.’’ Negan was rubbing his eyes.

‘’Wake up asshole, it’s not a hallucination. I’m here. Again. To fucking help.’’ She gritted her teeth.

‘’ But why?’’ Negan was confused. He knew he had no right to seek for help nor he deserved it.

‘’ I’m not doing this for you.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

‘’ Then for who? ‘’ It was getting more and more complex for Negan to figure out in his drunken state.

‘’ I mean you’ve always had a fucked-up mind, but you were also sharp. So, you tell me Negan.’’ She took a step toward him.

‘’ I’d say Lilith but, well… she’s gone.’’ Negan swallowed hardly. The gulp in his throat was getting bigger.

‘’ So, you say?’’ Lucille smirked knowingly.

‘’ IS SHE ALIVE? PLEASE TELL ME!’’ Negan got up from the bed and kneeled in front of Lucille.

‘’ Isn’t it funny that fears become wishes, Negan?’’ Lucille mocked his ex-husband. She’s not used to see him in such a pathetic state. She mumbled ‘good’ under her breath. ‘’ When you left Lilith, the last thing you wanted was to see her again. What has changed?’ She smirked but the sign of sympathy didn’t appear on her beautiful features, instead her face was full of ferocity.

Negan couldn’t keep his tears at bay anymore, at this point he’s crying like a pathetic dog. Yes, the woman he’d loved once was being extremely hard on him but his pain didn’t matter shit to him. All he wanted was Lilith to be alive, even if it’s without him.’ Please tell me she’s alive. Please, I beg you.’’ He started sobbing violently.

‘’ It depends. You’re probably going to treat her as badly as the last time.’’ Lucille shrugged her shoulders in a careless manner.

He started to hyperventilate. ‘’ I fucking promise I will never hurt her ever again. If she’s alive and ready to accept me, I’ll do my fucking best to make it up to her. Just please fucking tell me if she’s alive.’’

Lucille took a deep breath. Her eyes were shining mischievously. ‘’ Well then.’’ She bit her lower lip. ‘’ Yes, she’s alive Negan but she’s not doing very well as you can guess.’’

‘’I-I-I’d do everything for her to be happy… and if she doesn’t want me then I’ll go my own way. I just want the best for her.’’ Tears were running down on his face violently. His eyes were blood shot and puffy, his nose was running down but he couldn’t care less. This a month and a half has been the worst he’s ever experienced. He thought nothing could beat the day Lucille died but he was wrong.

Negan struggled at controlling his shaking hands. The balloon growing inside him was pressing into his chest. His breath got caught in his throat and he couldn’t mutter a word, just a chocked sob came out. The last time he had a panic attack was when he found out Lucille has cancer.

Watching the miserable man before her, Lucille put her delicate hand on his shoulder in a supporting manner. ‘’ Stand up and go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up to your old life next morning. Who knows?’’ She purred.

He stood up like an obedient child, but he had one question in his mind. ‘’Lucille, why are you being this good to me?’’

Lucille laughed. ‘’Oh dear, I’m not being good to you, now go back to sleep. If you’re lucky maybe you’d see her in your dream tonight.’’ And with that she disappeared.

Lilith was dancing slowly in her room. That was her coping mechanism. Whenever a bad thing happens, she tries to get over it with dancing and most of the time it helps but this time she felt like there’s nothing that could soothe her pain.

It’s been two weeks and the pain had started to annoy her, since childhood she hadn’t been good with dealing her negative emotions and the last one was the biggest blow. Feeling sad and in pain drove her crazy. Now, she’s mad at his asshole ex-fiancé also herself. She didn’t know when she’d fallen that deep for the man who ruined her life in a single night. Before, she didn’t realize how much he meant to her and it hurt more knowing that he was probably the only one for her.

Five days ago, she went back to Negan’s place to gather her things, but nobody was at home and there was no sign of Negan had been there for a long time. His car and motorbike were in the garage, but his clothes were absent in his wardrobe. Who knows, maybe he’d already found a lover. Thinking of that possibility hurt Lilith in the ways she could’ve never guessed before.

Rubbing her eyes, she took a deep breath and stared herself at mirror. The song was over, and she was a little bit tired. She watched herself for a few minutes. Her bright blue eyes were slightly red and swollen just like her plump lips. Her nose was running down, and the tip was a deep shade of red.

Suddenly, she heard a melody playing. She didn’t recognize it immediately, but she knew she heard it before, just couldn’t quite place when she listened to the song.

She must be forgetting things after all the crying; her head wasn’t in the right place. She unplugged the player and threw herself on bed.

When she felt a soft fingertip on her bare shoulder it’s been almost 10 minutes letting herself into the arms of slumber. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Lilith slightly opened them.

She couldn’t help the gape that formed on her mouth when she saw the woman who she’d only knew from photographs standing before her.

It was an interesting night to begin with.

@buttercandy16 @negans-network

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan x reader #negan x oc #negan angst #negan smut #negan fluff #lucille twd #lucille #negan x lilith #story: a not so merry christmas #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #jdm #negan twd

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jihyuncompass · 4 years ago

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Do You Feel It Too?

A soulmate AU counts as Fate right? Shhh let’s just act like it is.

Jihyun Week 2020 Day Three ( @mysme-events )

Fate

Jihyun Kim x MC

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Your entire life you’ve felt your soulmate’s pain. Every bump, scratch, headache. Never knowing who.

The first time you remember feeling it, you were five years old. You’d been sitting at home when a sharp pain hit your knee. Like you had just fallen, you had cried out and pulled up your pant leg to try and see what happened. Only to find nothing, not a bruise or a scratch.

It would happen occasionally, you’d feel a sting on your arms, your legs, or a headache. All things with no discernible cause and no physical impact. Almost like a sort of phantom.

After a few months you had heard one of your relatives talk about it, how they met their soulmate because they felt the same pain. You had listened to them with rapt attention coming to the realization that the strange feelings you felt were the same sensations someone else in the world was feeling too.

The thought stuck in your mind as you grew older. Mentally you would keep track of the types of pains you’d feel, as if it could give clues as to who your soulmate could be. For years all you felt was the occasional bump or papercut, some headaches here and there. Once or twice a year your body would ache like they had a fever. Nothing very out of the ordinary.

It also became a strange experience for you to get hurt. On one hand you hated experiencing pain, but now you had the weight of knowing that someone else in the world was feeling that same thing you were. Every injury led to you silently apologizing to your soulmate hoping they somehow could hear you.

For years the types of things you’d feel were typical, the normal types of injuries and pain that most people would get into. However, it started to change when you turned sixteen.

It’d been the middle of the night when you woke up feeling agonizingly hot, it felt like every inch of your skin was burning. Your lungs ached and struggled to take in air, you twisted around your bed rubbing at your skin to try and soothe the sensations to no effect. You ran from your bedroom into the bathroom and sat in the bathtub submerged under cold water, sobbing as the burning only got worse and worse.

You’d layed there for hours, so distracted you couldn’t even think about what your soul mate could be going through to cause them to feel something like this. Eventually the water in the bathtub grew lukewarm and you fell into a fitful sleep once you’d run out of tears to cry.

In the days following you figured that your soulmate must have been in a fire. The way the burning had felt that’s all it could possibly be in your mind. You spent the next two days doing research seeing if you could find any leads to who your soulmate could be. Only to find nothing. With time the memory of the burning started to seep into the back of your head, becoming more and more distant.

The second worst experience happened eight years later. You had been watching a storm rage from your window. Watching the rain come down and the lightning strike, you had felt a few things from your soulmate recently. Some strange stings in your chest and on your arms. A sprain in their ankle a few months ago. Nothing seemed to be too major.

One minute you were watching the storm and the next your back and elbows started to ache, taken aback from the feeling you winced and looked away from the window.

Then the worst of it began, your vision went red as a slashing pain tore across your face. Clutching your eyes you collapsed to the floor, it felt as if they were being gouged out. You fumbled around unable to see a single thing. Screaming out you crawled your way to the bathroom to try and wash your face, but nothing seemed to help. You knew like the fire you would have to just ride out the pain until it was over. So completely blind you fell onto your couch and put pressure on your eyes to try and relieve it.

What could be happening to your soulmate right now? How could their eyes hurt so badly? You screamed and cried in agony for several hours until the feelings had turned into a dull aches. Which remained for weeks, even after your vision returned to you.

Like the fire you spent weeks researching to see if you could find any news reports of an accident, anything having to deal with an eye injury. All to no avail. Beyond the usual crime the only thing that caught your eye was the apparent suicide of the fiance of a famous photographer, but beyond skimming the article you moved on. Accepting that you probably weren’t going to find anything.

Over time you’d watched the people around you slowly find their soulmates, some were childhood friends who learned pretty quickly. Others found each other at jobs, school, walking down the street. You weren’t one of those people, and as years passed you started to wonder if you’d ever find them.

While you searched for your soulmate, life hadn’t been kind to you. Money was frequently tight and finding a place to live even harder. So the mysterious text you received one afternoon couldn’t have come at a better time.

Under any other circumstances you would have said no to the stranger offering you room and board in exchange of playtesting a game for him. It sounded sketchy, but the eviction notice on your front door and your dwindling bank account made the decision for you.

The man you’d spoken to on the phone, Ray was strange in person. He was more than polite but gave you a strange feeling when you looked in his eyes too much. When you stood in front of him you couldn’t help yourself from noticing the strange clothing he wore, how it was strangely dated and odd for a game developer. His eyes also had dark bags under them and he appeared to be so thin, his skin a sickly pale color. Even if you couldn’t place why. There was something off about him and the way he spoke.

Still, you stayed, and you played his game. You found yourself growing more and more attached to each one. The more you talked to them this feeling started to bloom in your gut, that something wasn’t right. The way they talked was too realistic, too human even for an advanced AI.

The first time you heard V’s voice was the first time you truly started to doubt what Ray told you. He answered you with such kind words. His voice held such a warmth to it that you couldn’t imagine it coming from anything other than a real human being. But when you expressed any doubt or hesitation, Ray would be there to reassure you they were AIs. Only highly advanced and specially designed to seem realistic.

Yet, there was still a doubt.

“Have you made your choice?” Ray asked you on the fourth day. You’d just barely left the chatroom when Ray entered. The weight of the decision weighed on your mind, you knew he’d come to ask but you weren’t ready, and you weren’t even sure what you’re agreeing too.

“I. I’m not sure yet.” You told him. Ray sat down next to you on the bed.

“This place is wonderful, I hope you chose to stay with us.” Ray said. You glanced at your phone next to you. The screen just turned off, the RFA messenger still open if you turned it back on.

“Ray, what is this place?” You asked him. His face didn’t give off any expression, he didn’t even seem to let the question sink in.

“I can’t tell you now, but I promise once you go through your ceremony you’ll know everything.”

Your ceremony? Those words made fear grip your heart. There was something off about this place. Something that made your stomach churn, and even though you were being offered a choice. There was something in you that told you really didn’t have a choice in this matter.

Ray returned a few hours later, finally asking for your final decision.

“I’ll return as soon as the game is over.” You told him. Despite the gut feeling that your choice didn’t matter. You wanted your stance to be clear. Ray’s face fell, clearly disappointed.

He rubbed his wrists. “Ah… I see. If that is what you wish.” He glanced back up at you, stepped towards you. “But I worked so hard to make my preparations. So… could you at least take a look at what I have for you? Please?”

This was a bad idea. You knew that, there was no way for this to go well. However, you also knew you couldn’t refuse him.

He led you down winding hallways. The hugeness of the building finally dawned on you. You had seen it from the exterior when you were in the garden but now it was a whole different feeling.

After several minutes of walking you came to Ray’s room. A dark room that looked to both be large but crowded with computer monitors and desktop computers. You had to squint to see clearly, the room really only primarily being lit by the light from the computers. Behind you Ray closed and locked the door.

The feeling of unease in your chest was getting worse and worse. You realized he’d locked the door, trapping you inside. The heat from the computers made the room uncomfortably warm. Ray was talking to you, but you aren’t really paying attention at this point. Thinking more of potential exit routes.

“There’s no need for a signature for this contract. You only have to take a special elixir developed at this place… as a promise that you’ll stay here.” Ray explained. Turning to face him you saw him holding a glass bottle in his hand. The contents an unnatural blue color.

He continued to talk, but you weren’t listening. Your panic rising in your throat. Ray grabbed your hand. His grip is gentle yet firm, not letting you step away from him. He talked of paradise, a loss of pain, of happiness with him. The more he spoke the more you wanted to run away from him. Obviously this place wasn’t safe, and the more you worried about what the true nature of this place was.

A sharp knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and cut Ray’s sentence off. You both stared at the door, Ray with a look of confusion and you with a look of hope. Ray hesitated before dropping your hand and walking towards the door. You whispered silent prayers to yourself, for anything that could let you run out of the room and out of this place.

A hooded figure stood outside, their head bowed to hide their face.

“We have a problem with the server room. This is an emergency.” The hooded figure said, listening to the stranger you couldn’t help but feel their voice was familiar somehow.

“What? Of all the times.” Ray muttered. Then he looked back to the hooded figure, his brows knit together. “Hang on, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.” The hooded figure spoke before Ray could continue his train of thought.

“The Savior is also there. You must go now, Mr. Ray.”

“Wait, this voice.” You held your breath, Ray tried to lean down to see the figure’s face but he lowered his hood further.

You spoke up quickly. “This isn’t the time to be suspicious! You should hurry up and go Ray!” Ray turned back to look at you, then back at the bottle of elixir, then at the hooded figure again. Your heart raced in your chest, hoping that maybe he would actually leave.

“I should. But before that.” He looked right into the hooded figure’s obscured face. “Take off your hood.” After a pause he nodded and reached up, but instead of pulling off the hood he pushed Ray back, the glass elixir bottle falling from his hands and shattering on the floor.

The rest happened in slow motion, the figure yanked off his hood revealing a strikingly familiar face. Bright blue eyes stared right at you, the exact image of the RFA’s mysterious leader V.

Still, you couldn’t help but ask who he was when he called to you.

“It’s V! Jihyun!” He yelled. You gasped, eyes turning to Ray who was now standing up. This meant that the gut feeling you had was right. The RFA weren’t AI’s and Ray wasn’t a game developer, and looking back to V you realized he was your only way out of this place.

Your thoughts were stopped by Ray who had begun yelling, other hooded figures began to appear as Ray pointed to V calling him an intruder.

This was your chance, this was the only chance you had to escape this place. You ran forward reaching out to grab V’s hand, to run from this place to get out. From beside you, Ray was screaming and within seconds he’d grabbed your other arm twisting it behind you and pulling you away from V.

A sharp pain shot through your arm and shoulder as Ray pulled back on the arm he’d twisted behind you and looking at V-

Had he just cringed?

Was it because you did? Was it because of seeing Ray grab you, or?

Ray’s screaming in your ear stopped you from going further. He was screaming at V now. Claiming that he’d never let V take you away, calling for guards, for anything. Your arm was aching behind you as V apologized to you.

“I’m sorry, I’ll come back for you. I promise.” While Ray screamed at him you nodded back, watching V run from the room.

Once Ray calmed down he let you go. Stumbling forward you held your injured arm, rubbing it to soothe the small ache. Your mind raced with thoughts of all kinds. The RFA was real, this wasn’t a game, this place was dangerous, and the thought that emerged to the front of your consciousness. Was it possible that V actually felt the same pain you had, without being touched?

Ray left you alone in his computer room as he sought out the “Savior” leaving you with your swirling thoughts. You hadn’t even thought of taking your phone with you when Ray came to you. So you sat in silence, only the sound of the computer fans to keep you present and grounded.

Twenty minutes after Ray left a brief sharp feeling hit your leg. You held the spot, was it even possible that it could be V? You’d assumed that Rika had been his soulmate, since they were going to be married.

No, there was no way. It was just a coincidence.

The next few days were some of the scariest. You had Ray, who was still trying to convince you to stay. Telling you repeatedly how V was a liar. Then V who asked you to say very little and keep a low profile while he figured out how to get you out. Then, before you could do much V had been captured by the Savior. Who you had learned was actually Rika, the creator of the RFA who had supposedly committed suicide six months before.

Sitting in the Savior’s room you tried to keep your body language clear. You didn’t want to show her any sign of fear or hesitation, even though both of those things was gripping your throat tightly. If Rika could feel this fear coming from you, she didn’t say a word about it. Which somehow made you feel even worse.

Sitting there a strange itchy feeling started in your throat. Like burning, you swallowed to try and get rid of the ache but found it did nothing. This pain must have been what your soulmate was feeling right now. Pondering this the uncomfortable feeling spread to your head, your vision blurred. Lightheadedness taking over, your limbs started to throb.

You closed your eyes to try and make it look like maybe you were resting, trying to think of what your soulmate might be going through. The pain made your thoughts hazy. It was all you could focus on. The miserable feeling spread to your entire body, you weren’t even sure if you could stand on your own if you needed to. Cracking your eye open you saw Rika speaking to a believer. Despite Rika’s assurance that you wouldn’t be harmed you didn’t feel safe showing her any level of weakness. Afraid of her taking advantage of you in that state.

After the sun had fallen over the horizon Rika approached you. Like Ray did days ago, she offered you a choice and decided to show you something.

Clutching the wall you kept yourself upright. Your head was dizzy and your knees threatened to give out at any second. You kept yourself up at this point on pure adrenaline. Descending down a staircase your surroundings changed to what can only be described as a dungeon, like one from a film or book.

Your heart nearly stopped seeing V. He laid crumpled on the hard stone floor, his face twisting in pain. His eyes completely glazed over. He looked to be in so much pain, you held yourself back from running to him. Rika was watching him, a look in her eyes that held nothing but disdain and disgust for him.

“Ray gave you more than I wanted him too. I was hoping we could still chat.” Rika said. V’s eyes moved around the room, searching for the voice that was speaking to him. His eyes locked on you, his face looked relieved to see you. Thought it quickly twisted back in pain.

Your brain was taken over by worry for V. He was clearly not in a good condition and by the way Rika was declining neither was she. And with how angry she was with V you worried about his safety.

Staying still, both from fear and pain you heard a voice from behind you.

“Shh! Quiet.” A familiar voice said. “You’re the coordinator right? Don’t answer. I said be quiet! We’re getting out of here.” Seven’s voice whispered in your ear. This was it, you were going to get out of this place. Watching V and Rika closely you watched as Rika turned away from V, now screaming into the wall. “Pick him up. Now, so that she wouldn’t notice.” Regardless of your aching body and dizziness you reached down for V, his arms holding onto your shoulders as you helped him to stand. Leaning on each other for support.

One eye on Rika and the other of Seven beckoning you forward you left the dungeon and snuck out of the building. Breaking into a run once you were a safe distance away, Seven carrying V on his back you stumbled following them.

Every step felt agonizing, still you tried to hide it. Right now V was the one in pain, and whatever you were feeling was just from your soulmate. V was far more important right now.

The hours that followed were a blur, the three of you had hidden out in a safehouse Seven knew of. V was tucked into bed to rest and Seven told you he had called someone who could help him. While Seven was working in the corner of the room you sat curled up in a chair with your head between your knees. The pain you felt was still so intense, and now that the adrenaline was leaving your body you realized just how bad it truly was. Your body felt like it was being torn limb from limb. Your head felt light while your arms felt like rocks and your head throbbed from behind your eyes.

Seven’s friend, his maid? His coworker? Whoever Vanderwood was arrived not long after you did to the hideout. As soon as they was inside they started getting to work on giving V medicine and trying to assess his condition.

“What’s wrong with you?” Vanderwood asked you once they were finished with V. Who was awake now, but still dully staring at everyone. You lifted your head, the pain was less intense now but still lingering in your body.

“I’m okay.” You said. Vanderwood however didn’t look very convinced.

“Did they drug you too? You look like he does.” Vanderwood pointed to V who was watching you now. Even Seven who had been working on his computer was taking a closer look at you.

“No.” You said. “They didn’t drug me.”

“Then why are you-” Vanderwood stopped and looked between you. “Wait, are you two soulmates?” Your head snapped up and looked at Vanderwood, and then at V who was staring at you with wide eyes now.

You stuttered. “No, there’s no way we are.” Vanderwood glanced between you again.

“Look at that wall for a second.” Vanderwood instructed you. Crossing your arms you turned your eyes away. You heard shuffling then a twinge of pain in your arm. Grabbing it you looked back to Vanderwood. Who was pinching V’s arm while V stared in confusion and slight horror.

“Wait.” Seven stood up. “V, you always told us Rika was your soulmate.”

“I-” V coughed, as he did you felt burning in your lungs. Seven waited for a second for V’s response but then shook his head.

“You know what. Now isn’t the time.” Seven sat back down. “There are other things to worry about.” Seven picked up his computer setup. “I’m going to go to the other room to try and figure out this hacker situation. V, get some rest.” V nodded, a pained look on his face. Vanderwood sighed and followed Seven into the other room. Likely to grill him about what was going on, away from the two of you listening in.

Even without looking you knew V was looking at you. Rubbing your arms you stayed quiet, under any other circumstance you likely would be happy to know you’ve met your soulmate. But looking at V, laying in that bed, and knowing about Rika, you felt nothing but worry, and a small bit of guilt.

“I’m sorry.” V whispered to you. You shook your head, eyes closed.

“You don’t need to apologize to me V.” You said. “Just focus on getting better. For both of our sakes.” V stared at you a moment longer, his eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place. Something between longing and grief. Leaning back in your own seat you watched V drift to sleep. A million thoughts still swirling in your head.

Recovery was slow, but you could feel V slowly gaining his strength back. You encouraged him. Especially during the moments he proclaimed his desire to return to Rika. You had tried to tell him that nothing good would come from going back. That him returning to Magenta wasn’t going to stop her. Even if he didn’t seem to agree something told you he was listening to you honestly.

Neither of you talked about what you both knew about your soulmate status. Rika was still too fresh a wound and you were still trying to process it all. Still, you saw some of the looks V would give you when you weren’t looking. Or the way Seven and Vanderwood chose their words extremely carefully around the two of you.

You never discussed it until the two of you went for a walk. Jihyun held onto you to keep himself steady. You both walked down the mountain trail letting yourselves be swallowed up by the trees surrounding the beaten path.

��I feel that I’ve been unfair to you.” V said once you’d stopped for a moment.

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

“Our situation, it’s very complicated. And I know my relationship with Rika has only made it worse.” V said. You stared at the ground.

“Did you think Rika was your soulmate?” You asked. You knew sometimes that could be the case with people, and based on V’s words. You couldn’t help but wonder.

V sighed. “Once maybe. But perhaps I just wanted her to be. But, once my eyes were hurt I...” He shook his head trailing off his sentence.

“I remember that.” You whispered, your hand touching under your eyes. “That was six months ago, right before Rika disappeared?” V sucked in a harsh breath.

“Yes.” Hearing that, you couldn’t keep yourself from stepping forward and embracing him. Pressing your face into his chest. You could still remember the agonizing pain from months ago, and seeing him in the flesh made that memory all the more painful.

“I’m sorry.” You said. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” V was quiet, you almost pulled away to look at him. To make sure he was okay.

V was quiet for a moment, your words seemingly not reaching him. His voice cracked when he spoke up again. “So this is what it feels like to be embraced by someone.”

“Has no one ever held you before?”

“No, Rika always needed to be held. The only person who wanted to hold me was…” He trailed off for a second. “Was my mother, before she passed.” You hugged him tighter, V hadn’t ever mentioned his mother to you before.

You talked for a while longer. V talked of his mother, Rika. Even Jumin. As he spoke you could feel all the things he’d been holding in for years. Years of trauma and fear that he’d done everything in his power to disguise. After a while emotion choked him up, especially when he spoke of his mother.

“I’m sorry.” He started. “It’s been a long time since I talked about her. My mother that is..” He wiped his eyes and sniffled. “If you don’t mind, I think I need a moment alone. To gather myself.”

“Will you be okay?” You asked him. He nodded.

“I’ll be okay, be careful going back.” You nodded walking away slowly back down the mountain trail to the safehouse. Your thoughts kept your mind busy, thinking back to your conversation with V. In the time in the safehouse you’d never thought about your feelings for him. Everything had been so stressful, you’d never stopped to consider that maybe, you had fallen in love with him. Even if just the tiniest bit.

The sight of the safehouse came into view, you were preparing to walk through the door. When a feeling came into your stomach, something painful and shocking. You gasped and fell to your knees squeezing your eyes shut. Something was wrong, very wrong.

V was hurt.

Your memories of what happened next are fuzzy, the pain had taken over every one of your senses, every once of your mind. Vaguely, you remember running. Screaming for Seven, looking for V. You remember how your heart sunk when you saw him, bleeding on the ground.

However you don’t remember the car journey, or even arriving at the hospital. Your memory only cleared while you sat in V’s room. Waiting for him in surgery, then you remember talking with Jumin and watching V be returned to his room to recover.

The best moment besides seeing his face, was feeling the pain subside from your stomach. Knowing he wasn’t hurting at all.

As V recovered you knew Seven and Jumin were taking care of everything in the background. You heard bits of pieces from them as to what was happening, that Ray was only continuing to attack until he stopped. Rika had been in the chatroom, until she had stopped. However your mind was focused entirely on V during that time.

One the day of the party was cancelled, Magenta was blown up, Ray inside. While that thought weighed on you and V. You couldn’t deny the sense of finality it had in your heart. Finally, this horrible saga seemed to have come to an end. Only recovery from here on out.

“I’m going to have my eyes operated on soon.” V told you, you were sitting next to him. Focused on the news of Rika’s arrival at the party venue. “Turns out Jumin already scheduled an operation for me.”

You laughed gently. “Sounds like Jumin.” He smiled at you.

“I hoped that I could start my new life after my eyes are cured but, it’ll take time to fully free myself from Rika.” You nodded. “I care for you, very much but.” He looked at you, holding to your hand. “I want to be a complete person, I want to find what is precious within me.”

You smiled, although your heart ached you held that positive look. As you looked into his eyes you saw something you’d never seen in him before. You could have sworn you saw hope.

“Take all the time you need.” You said, speaking honestly.

The first time you remember feeling your soulmate's pain was when you were five years old. You’d been sitting at home when a sharp pain hit your knee. Now, you stood at the airport, watching the plane V was in as it was about to take off. You weren’t sure when he’d come back, only knowing that he would someday.

Tears filled your eyes as you waited with Jumin and Seven next to you. The plane started down the runway and lifted into the air raising higher and higher, you watched it until it disappeared out of sight and into the clouds above.

“Ouch!” You said grabbing your arm, it felt like someone had just pinched you but looking at Jumin who was standing next to you his hands in his pockets there was no way it was him who had done it.

A smile grew on your face as you realized. Going for you other arm, you smiled as you pinched your own arm. Knowing V on that plane felt it too.

#mystic messenger #jihyunweek2020 #jihyun kim #mysme #v #mysme v #mysme jihyun #v x mc #jihyun x mc

81 notes · View notes

irwinkitten · 5 years ago

Text

quarantine and chill | poly!lashton

notes: so as some of you may know, i got hit with covid-19. i’d kept socials updated with my symptoms and how i was dealing with it but i’ve been quite on the aftermath of what i went through. so i did what i do best, i wrote. similar with teulu, i decided to write it out in the form of a fic. a lot of what happens is what i’ve had to struggle through with regards to recovery and what i’m still struggling with. there is a lot that i haven’t really talked about with it either, however i got the main points down and just wrote. if i was feeling better, i’d probably have shifted it to an oc but this felt much too personal to do. i was debating on whether or not this was going to be posted. at first i wasn’t, then i wasn’t sure. i finally decided to because i enjoy writing and i enjoy giving people something to read, something to enjoy. i also decided on poly!lashton mostly because of the interview on one of the instagram lives where ash said he cooks and i think it was with @sexgodashton where were talking about how ashton would mother hen you when you’re sick lmao and then i got daydreamy because i’ve been dealing with the whole situation alone and it’s difficult when your loved ones (both friends and family) are too far away and unable to be with you. i’m rambling at this point but yeah, tldr; this is really personal on how i recovered from that godforsaken virus. warnings: talks of dying, depression, sickness word count: 9k (oops)

donate to my ko-fi here

When you’d come home from closing up the store, it had been an almost nightmarish day for you. It felt surreal that the store was closing until further notice and you had no idea when you were going to even be back in your job again.

What frustrated you was the fact that you hadn’t been able to book a flight out to LA before the travel bans kicked in, leaving you to be self-isolating in your apartment for the duration of the lockdown, alone.

Luke and Ashton had both voiced their complaints, but no amount of money being thrown at the problem wasn’t getting you back to LA with them.

“How are you feeling?” Ashton asked over facetime whilst you tidied up. The simplicity of living in communal housing meant that you only had two rooms to tidy and keep clean. Luke and Ashton loved it for the fact that it afforded the three of you some privacy away from prying eyes of the media because you were tight-lipped about where you lived.

“Tired. I’ve cried a lot and I’m missing the both of you.” You admitted quietly as Luke popped into the screen, his head resting on Ashton’s shoulder. His lips wore a tired smile, one that you could match.

“We’re missing you too, love.” Luke’s voice was comforting. You finally settled down on the couch, your body sinking into the cushions and sighed.

“You know you don’t have to worry right? Ash and I are gonna help you.” The reassurance from Luke made your lips twitch up.

“I know. I’m just frustrated. They should have made this decision well over a week ago.”

Neither of them could say much against that. You’d told the company bosses that you were at risk, you’d warned them that the store wouldn’t pull in enough money to warrant staying open for the week.

But they’d simply said that they were following government guidelines. It had been nothing but frustration for the three of you.

“Are you both home finally?” Your question was much quieter and Ashton grimaced.

“Because I have a cough, they’ve organised us to be quarantined since we’re together. They’ve done the tests but I don’t think it’s anything, I think it’s just allergies playing up since I’ve been sneezing non stop.” Ashton explained and you sighed.

“Irony at its finest.” You received sad smiles in return from your boys.

“I’ve got some last minute paperwork to finish up and send off since I couldn’t do so at the shop. How about I call you both tomorrow?” Luke pouted and you giggled at the expression, your heart lifting that little bit.

“Fine but next time I’m hogging the phone.” Luke muttered and you laughed before blowing them both a kiss.

“Love you both, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The paperwork was easy to finish off and left you a few hours to shower and change whilst tidying up around.

When you crawled into bed, you checked your phone to see a photo of the two of them snuggled up together, Ashton practically smothering Luke. You sent them one back of you with the bear they’d gotten you, sprayed in their cologne.

When you woke up the next day, there was only a slight difference, your blocked nose making you groan.

“Fucking allergies.” Was muttered as you made your way to the bathroom, waving to one of your neighbours who was just leaving the kitchen.

You’d decided to stock up on food, making quick work of the short walk. It was nice to be able to still move about in the fresh air at least, offering a small, yet nervous smile at the cashier as you paid for your shopping, packed it in your bag and made your way home.

Before you even realised it, you’d settled on the couch and fallen asleep, wrapped up in your fluffy blanket, eyes heavy as you set an alarm.

You slept through the alarm and when you next woke up, there were three missed facetimes from Luke. You called him back immediately.

“There’s the love of our lives.” Luke crowed when he answered, making you laugh. It was followed by a cough which made Luke pause, his eyes studying the screen. “Said love of our lives doesn’t look too well.” The concern was evident and you rolled your eyes.

“It’s probably allergies and my body finally relaxing from the last three weeks of stress.” Luke didn’t look convinced but you managed to switch the conversation. “Did you find out the results of Ashton’s test?”

“Yeah, he came up negative. Since we’ve been quarantined for what, three weeks now? We’ll probably be on the next essential flight back home. But that won’t be for another week from what they’ve said. We both agreed to hang back long enough to let other people go ahead.” You frowned at that.

“But baby, you guys need to be back for the launch.” He shook his head.

“Ash was quite forceful with management on this one. There isn't going to be any kind of physical launch so we’re cleared to be delayed, just as long as we have a good wifi connection for the weekend for the various streams.” You sighed but understood their concerns.

“How is our no longer sick drummer boy?” You finally asked and as if he was waiting for the question, he all but piled himself on top of Luke, a muffled whine escaping as he tried to shove Ashton off him.

You laughed.

“Behave children otherwise no rewards.” You teased them, making the two of them laugh as they settled themselves down on the sofa they were on.

The conversation was easy between the three of you as they both excitedly discussed the possible plans they had for the album release, relying on them being home on time to do so.

“It wouldn’t do well to be still in the air when we do the release party, but knowing our luck...” Ashton trailed off, making you snort.

“Knowing our luck, that’s what would happen.” You grinned and he rolled his eyes.

“Probably.”

The three of you talked until you were dropping off, and despite voicing their concerns, you waved them off, pointing out that you always got like this during allergy season. Ashton didn’t argue the point, but Luke still frowned in concern.

“We love you, sunshine. Get some decent rest please.” He’d pleaded with you and you gave them both a gentle smile in return, hoping that it was at least semi-reassuring.

“I’ll be fine, but I’ll go to bed. Love you two.”

“Love you more.” Came the unified response before the call dropped and you settled back asleep.

Part of you knew that you should’ve realised that they had every right to be concerned when you woke up the following morning.

Your entire body was aching. And what concerned you most was the tightness across your chest coupled with the pain radiating across your body.

When you checked your temperature, you felt your stomach sink at the fact that your fever had crept up and was alarmingly high. So you called the helpline, putting the phone on speaker whilst you waited to get through, sending a text to the group chat you had with your boyfriends.

‘Woke up with fever and body hurts. Struggling to breath too so checking in with the helpline to see what i need to do. Don’t know if I’m gonna be up for calling later bc I wanna sleep.’

You felt bad but you could already feel the drowsiness pull at your body.

When you got through and described your symptoms, the lady on the other end advised you to self-isolate and upon the symptoms getting worse, to call the emergency services.

You relayed the information back to Luke and Ashton before falling asleep after taking some medication, trying to desperately ignore how much your body ached as you slept.

The first few days, it felt like you’d been run over with a truck repeatedly, but what concerned you was the pain that was radiating from your kidneys. Both Luke and Ashton knew of your previous history with kidney failure and both had been urging you to go into the hospital, but you’d couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t that bad.

By day four, both of your boyfriends were worried because you’d mentioned to them that you were unable to breath properly. It was late at night, but with the pain reaching an overwhelming point, you knew it was pointless to argue. Even your friends had been urging you to contact the helpline once more.

You’d been on hold for over an hour as the pain got worse. You were struggling to focus and it was everything you could do to try and breathe through the agony that was radiating through your body, so you cut off from the hold music and contacted the emergency services.

This time fear started to settle into your stomach as you answered the questions posed to you, trying to get across that it wasn’t a block of flats but a shared home.

The operator understood and urged you to get help from your neighbours to at least let the crew into the building. You were nervous enough about standing up by yourself but you managed.

When you stood from your bed, the walk to the door, even though it was five steps away, the agony that shot up your legs had you stumbling into the door.

Pulling it open, despite your neighbour’s door being six feet away, you knew you weren’t going to be able to stumble that far. The pain was steadily getting worse and tears started falling down your cheeks.

“Can someone help?” You finally got out, gasping for a breath once the words were out. Your neighbour was quick to open the door and knew something was wrong.

“What’s happened, are you okay?”

“Can’t breathe. Called medics, but need someone to let them in.” You gasped out and he nodded, taking a step closer.

“Lets sit you down and I’ll get one of the others to go and wait for them.” The firm grip on your arms supported you, your own hands grasping his arms to keep you from falling as he slowly walked you back to the edge of your bed, setting you down gently.

The pain receded slightly.

“I’m gonna prop the door open and get one of the others to come and give me a hand, is that okay?” And you could only nod tearfully as you tried to take in slow breaths, despite the pain that was radiating from your chest.

With the door propped open, you could hear him banging on the other doors, calling for help and explaining the situation. The hallway wasn’t very long but their voices carried down to you as you tried, and failed, to calm down.

And then the medics were there, pulling the blanket from your shoulders despite how cold you were feeling.

“It’s because of the fever, your body is already warm, you won’t be helping yourself with the blankets.”

They asked various questions and you tried to answer in the gasping breaths, but then the pain shot up and it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Okay, we’re getting you to the hospital.”

You could barely move, but between the medic and your neighbour, they managed to get the things you needed and help you down the stairs. It took much longer, but you knew that rushing wasn’t going to help and the pain was pushing close to hitting 10 for you.

Once in the ambulance, you had a cannula inserted, laughing breathlessly between your tears at the first failed attempt and the second attempt to find a vein.

When you reached the hospital, waiting to hear where you needed to be taken, you finally got out your phone, the morphine hindering your ability to focus, hitting the audio button instead to send a voice note to your now worried boyfriends.

“At the hospital. Been given some morphine but still hurts. Missing you and love you lots.” You could barely keep your eyes open, the words slurring together. The medic gave you a kind smile.

“Partner?” You nodded, the motion making you feel nauseous.

“Need to drive to the other side, they’ve got a specific ward set up.” You heard and realised belatedly that the driver must have turned up. The drive was short and finally you were helped from the vehicle into a waiting wheelchair. You were too tired to protest and you knew it would be quicker for you to get situated.

You could hear them talking, explaining your medical history and the symptoms you were displaying. Part of your mind was listening but the other part of your mind was wondering how Ashton and Luke were.

You missed them.

Once in a room, the nurses took over and did some more tests. Eventually you were left alone, your fever creeping higher despite the fact that you felt so cold. You were tired, but the pain that was radiating from your kidneys and joints, it was enough to keep you awake, unable to relax to sleep.

Your phone was going off every few minutes, various people messaging you, making sure that you were okay. The only ones you were really replying to were Luke and Ashton, but even then it was sparse.

It didn’t stop them from worrying.

When the doctor on shift came into your bare room, it took every effort to focus on her words.

“We’ve taken some bloods to help rule out any other possibilities, despite displaying symptoms of the virus. When we have the first results of your bloods back, we’ll be moving you onto one of the wards, so it should be another hour or so.”

You nodded your head, eyes heavy as you let out a tired sigh.

“Any idea of how long I’ll be here for?” Despite the mask in place, you could see her cheeks lifting up into what you assumed was a smile.

“Less than 24 hours, I’d assume. Try to get some rest, another nurse will be taking some obs in about an hour, before you need to be moved hopefully.” You nodded tiredly, curling up on your side. It seemed to be the only relief you could find.

You drifted in and out, the stark quietness of your room so different to the usual noises you had of cars passing by or Ashton and Luke’s steady breathing.

When the nurse came back in, you were beyond exhausted. You felt nauseous and the pain wasn’t receding.

“We’re going to be moving you instead, they’ll do all the obs that they need once you’re settled in the room. I’m just waiting on the porters.” You nodded tiredly as she unplugged your phone charger and placed your bag at the bottom of the bed.

You kept your face turned into the pillow, the lights hurting your eyes.

“Sensitive to the light?” Came a kind voice, you could only let out a muffled noise of agreement. When you were wheeled into the room, the light was dimmed down and you felt more relaxed.

Glancing at the time you hadn’t realised it’d been so long. The numbers read 7am and you could feel your body shaking, your mind taking a minute to catch up with the fact that you were cold.

The next few hours were difficult. You went from being too hot to freezing cold, the pain creeping up as you tried to curl in on yourself to warm up. Even with additional blankets, you were still shaking, teeth chattering when you tried to talk.

When they took the second round of bloods, you didn’t offer any argument, simply holding out your arm for them to take the blood from. Things were getting hazy and you couldn’t focus on the nurse as he spoke to you about what was going to happen.

You knew some of it was tiredness. Despite the mini naps you were having, you hadn’t slept solidly in nearly 48 hours.

“We’re going to be coming in to do the test in a moment.” You found yourself confused as a different nurse explained what was going to happen and she took her time to make sure you understood each part.

Once it was done, your cough having flared up after having the swab hit the back of your throat you noticed that you had missed calls.

‘How did I not hear them?’ You thought to yourself, confused. You clicked on the notification and realised it was Luke that had been calling.

“Hi angel, we were just checking in.” His voice seemed to set off the tears, unable to understand why you were so tearful. But he heard the sniffle.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this. You know we’re here for you.”

“I just wanna be home with you two.” You choked out, a cough escaping, the motion making you feel sick.

“I know angel, what have the doctors said?” You tried to steady your breathing so you wouldn’t set your coughing off again.

“Two weeks self quarantine.” You finally got out, wiping a few stray tears away. You heard the two of them sigh in unison.

“Maybe we could—”

“Ash no. If they are sick with the virus, it’s likely to just pass between the three of us.” Luke interrupted and you had to hold back the sob.

“I’m scared.” You finally admitted quietly and tried to stop the sob that was crawling up your throat. You knew that if you’d started, you were most likely not going to stop.

“Baby.” Ashton whispered and you sucked in a deep breath, determined not to ask the question.

“Lu’s right. It’d just pass between the three of us. I should have maybe another week of symptoms.” Your voice was quiet but they heard you.

“We’re not going home.” Luke’s voice finally filtered through. “Not with you being in hospital and not with you being so sick. We’re staying in a hotel till your symptoms die down and then we’re gonna come and look after you.”

You couldn’t even argue with them. They were both as stubborn as mules and having them would make the recovery easier with some help.

“How are you gonna get here?” You finally gasped out.

“We’ve got a rented car. We extended it the day you got sick.” You felt your heart warm at their words.

“Okay.” You finally muttered.

Eventually you were discharged with medication for the fever and a reminder to keep your fluid intake up at least.

The journey back was exhausting.

The medic was kind enough to chat to you about your job, about Luke and Ashton. He didn’t bat an eyelash when you mentioned them both. He was quick to help you figure out where the turning was, especially in the dark. And he helped you to the door of the building.

Just the journey up the stairs was tiring, and your neighbours heard you arrive, the three of them checking that you were okay.

“Until my breathing gets worse, I can self manage at home. However, I need rest and my body currently feels like I’ve been run over multiple times.”

One of them checked about collecting your food shop the following morning and you smiled in return before getting into your bedroom and collapsing on the bed.

You made sure that your phone charger was plugged in before sending a text to Luke and Ashton saying you were home. It was barely another five minutes before you fell into a fitful sleep.

The following day you were woken to a knock on your door, but you could barely move. Sleep had been scarce and your joints felt so heavy.

“Don’t try and get up! Just letting you know that I’m off to get your shopping! I should be back in an hour or so.” Your neighbour called through the door and you felt a little bit of relief flood you at that.

“Thanks!” You called back before coughing, twisting sharply to the side where the bowl lay, your body aching when the coughing stopped.

You’d had the bowl lay there since the night before you’d gone into hospital, terrified that the coughing would lead you to throwing up. You weren’t good with vomit at the best of times but this was another level.

Collapsing onto your back, taking in slow deep breaths as you tried to calm your heart down, you took a few moments before taking some meds, pulling the covers off your body to help you cool down. This was the one thing about fever that wasn’t fun for you.

You ended up napping on and off, unable to pay attention to your phone at the various texts coming through from concerned friends before there was another knock on the door which jolted you awake, despite feeling disorientated.

“I’m leaving the bags just outside your doors! Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll have them all up.” You didn’t reply as you heard the hallway door shut, and instead slowly moved to collect one of the face masks you’d been given, slipping it on with ease before grabbing disinfectant wipes.

You ignored the dizziness that caught you off guard, taking a steadying breath as you waited, leaning heavily against the door.

“Right, they’re all there for you chicken!” Your neighbours voice was more distant and you hesitantly opened the door. He was standing halfway down the hallway, a kind smile on his face.

“How are you feeling today?” The concern was genuine and you could only shrug.

“A lot of pain. Not sleeping well.” You got out breathlessly. He frowned.

“Well if you need anything, you’ve got my number now, so just give me a text, especially if you need any drinks. You take care of yourself now.” You lifted your hand in acknowledgement before propping open the living room door and heading in there where your fridge sat.

When the food was put away, you were half staggering the few steps back to your bed, barely getting your mask off and on your desk before you half collapsed on your bed.

Glancing at your phone there was a missed call from Ashton.

“Hi love, you weren’t responding so we figured to call you.” His voice was hesitant when you’d accepted the call.

“Everything hurts Ash.” You finally sobbed, your body protesting the movement, but in that moment you couldn’t care. You missed them both and with the combined pain, it didn’t help.

“Baby.” Luke’s voice was soft and you knew they were worried, but you were too far gone to understand their worries. You just wanted them.

“Want you both, and can’t even have that because of this fucking virus.” You got out a cough ending the sentence as you tried to catch your breath and not choke.

“Calming breaths sweetheart. You’re okay.” Ashton soothed immediately and you tried to follow his instructions. But everything hurt. There was a sharp pain in your chest, coupled with the pain in your lower back as well as the joint aches. It practically burned you.

“Do you think you can manage a shower later, love? It might help.” Luke’s voice was hesitant once you were calm enough and you took in a deep breath.

“Maybe.” You got out, your voice quieter and they knew you were tired.

“Rest for a bit angel, see if you can try and get a few hours at least.” Ashton encouraged and you could feel the heaviness wash over you as you settled down.

“Love you both.” You tiredly got out before you let yourself sink into sleep, taking a slow deep breath as you did.

You didn’t hear their returned words or them cutting the call, you’d fallen asleep easily and your body relaxed just a little bit as you slept.

When you next woke up, it was dark. Making sure that you were at least drinking, you had another glass of juice followed by some water before pulling yourself up to take a shower. You texted them both and your best friend to let them know you’d slept some and you were about to attempt a shower.

It was slow going, trying to keep yourself upright, but the steam helped clear your sinuses, making sure you got every part of you with the scrubber before just standing under the shower, your hands pressed into the cold tiles to keep you upright.

It’d been thirty minutes by the time you’d returned to your room, feeling more tired than when you’d first woken, so you took the opportunity to try and get more sleep.

That was when the coughing became so violent at two in the morning that you felt like you were practically choking on air, unable to catch a breath until you’d rolled onto your side and something cleared enough for you to take a gasping breath, your heart racing so fast that you had to call your best friend to calm down.

It became frightening as days began to pass and you could barely recall them, your mind confused and muddled with exhaustion mixed in with the hunger that was plaguing you. But when you’d eaten, your body had rejected the food immediately so you didn’t try again.

By day ten, you were struggling. You’d cried far too much and your body felt like lead. You knew that both Luke and Ashton were concerned at this point, knowing that this was the point where either you’d start to get better or it could get worse.

Two days later, between fitful nap and gasping breaths after a coughing fit, your phone went off.

It was Ashton.

“Baby?” You got out tiredly, keeping measured breaths as you sat up slowly.

“Take a look outside your bedroom window.” You frowned, moving to the otherside of the room, leaning enough to peer out of your open window before a sob escaped.

They both stood there, arms laden with bags. Both were looking up at you.

“Reckon you can come let us in angel? Lu and I are gonna commandeer your living room ‘till you’re better.” It took everything in you not to go racing down the stairs. You knew it would set you back further so you took hesitant breaths before looking back to your phone then you heard a voice in the hallway.

You were quick enough to catch your neighbour as he was heading back to his room.

“You alright there petal?” His voice was concerned and you held your hand up indicating you needed a moment to catch your breath. He waited patiently.

“My, my partners, they’re downstairs with some shopping and taking over my living room till I’m better. Could you let them in for me please?” You were hesitant in asking, but the pleading eyes you had seemed to have his shoulders wilt as he took a step forward.

“I take it they’re gonna be self-isolating for the two weeks they need to?” You nodded.

“I’ve got to wait seven days after my fever stops as it is before I can even be in the same room as them. I know that they’re worried and being so far hasn’t really helped.” He smiled kindly.

“Got you, petal. Get back in and I’ll go get them for you.”

You could hear their voices get closer and it took everything in you not to throw yourself out of the room at them. You didn’t want them to get sick.

“Delivered safely petal, feel better soon.” Your neighbour called and you tried not to let out a sob.

“Hi angel.” It took everything in you not to open the door. You had to clench your hands into a fist, head resting on the door.

“I don’t know what’s harder. You both being away, or you being so close but I can’t even see you.” You let out a choked cough and Luke let out a soothing noise.

“Well we’ve got you some good wifi now, and we’re here for you angel. We’ve got a couple of streams and you best be watching when we go live.” You let out a breathless giggle. They were there.

The first few days were the hardest. They’d leave cartons of juice and bottles of water outside your door. It finally added to fruit when you managed to keep an orange down.

Watching them do the streams from your living room was strange, but it seemed to settle your anxiety that they were so close. You could see it was being brought up about their shared change of scenery which prompted them to explain after you’d texted Ashton and told him that it was okay for them to know about your situation.

“So our partner, well they got pretty sick at the start of last week. We were already stuck in the UK at this point, so we just extended it so that we’d be with them when they got better. None of us handle being sick alone very well.” This made the other three laugh. You grinned.

“I think that extends to the rest of the band too.” Luke piped up, making the other two complain loudly. You giggled before coughing violently.

“Oops. As you can probably hear, it got real bad and real close by the end of last week. It’s why we were so distracted on the live because we were so worried. When they told us that they’d slept for a solid six hours last night, we made the drive back to theirs, shopping in tow to help look after them. We can’t see them, and Luke and I are stuck on the couch for the next two weeks at least, but we couldn’t just fly out and leave them alone.”

Ashton’s explanation had well wishes pouring in for you and it warmed your heart to see that there were fans that cared.

Part of you wished you could at least be watching them, or better yet, be cuddled up with them, to hell with the stream. But you knew they were trying to keep the focus on the album. You’d already had texts from the others to check in with you and you took your time to reply to them and settle down, your eyes heavy as you snuggled under the covers.

It was nice to watch them, seeing the ease in the way they joked about. You knew they worried but it was obvious to anyone who saw them when you’d gone into hospital that the tension that was sat on the both of them was both obvious and heartbreaking.

You could see the shadows under Luke’s eyes and you wondered if they traded the nights between each other to make sure they wouldn’t miss an update or a call.

You tried to squash down the guilt instant that reared up. They were doing this because they cared. There was nothing in it for them, apart from the possibility of you getting better. But you knew they expected nothing back.

Your eyes were tired and you took in the time. It was creeping closer to midnight so you closed off the stream and texted the chat to let them both know you were going to sleep. Had you stayed on the stream a few moments longer, you’d have seen Ashton’s face relax as a gentle smile crept onto his lips, causing the two that were still stateside to tease him.

The following morning was better in some way but also worse. Your cough wasn’t easing up but your fever seemed to have broken in the night.

You weren’t overheating but you weren’t cold either. You took a few moments to move your limbs and regretted it almost instantly. But you knew that if your fever stayed down, it would be a further week until you weren’t contagious.

Part of you wanted to practically sing in joy, but as you took in the early morning, you decided against that, knowing your men would be fast asleep still.

Slowly you got yourself up, collecting your shower stuff before making your way down the hallway to the shower. The warm water felt almost luxurious on your skin as you took care in washing your hair, still leaning against the cold tiles to keep yourself upright, your legs trembling as you did so.

It took the same amount of time as the previous shower, but once you were clean, you knew it made a small amount of difference as you stumbled back to your room, crawling under the covers to take a well deserved nap.

You missed the text from Luke asking if you were awake.

Now that you seemed to be stomaching food, Ashton kept it simple with dry toast, not willing to push your body too far. And you agreed with his judgement after he’d placed it in front of your door and you waited for the other door to close before you opened yours.

“Love you.” You felt your heart melt as he spoke through the door.

“Love you too Ash. Thank you.” You returned quietly before stepping back into your room. It was getting harder to stay in, especially when your cuddle monsters of boyfriends were just in the next room.

It hurt.

They FaceTimed with you to keep you company, both of them making a strong effort to not only keep you company but to also stop you from giving into temptation to just join them.

Ashton was practically insistent on that.

You knew by the time that you would be allowed to have them back in your room, their own self isolation would be over.

It didn’t fail to amuse you how Ashton started cooking once you started being able to stomach more than dry toast. It took a few goes but he kept it plain enough to not make your stomach complain but changed it up so you didn’t get bored of it.

What made it even better were the small notes of affection they left for you on the tray which held your food. You had them pinned up to your cork board without a second though, the small pieces of heaven from them only making it feel that much cosier.

Something to ward away the bad days in the future.

Luke snuck you some of your favourite snacks, even after the scolding Ashton gave him when he tried sneaking you a chocolate bar.

It’d made you giggle and they’d both paused to hear it.

It was a sound they hadn’t heard in nearly a month and it made their hearts soar.

Despite the pain you were in, it felt like you could at least breathe with the both of them with you. Even if you couldn’t see them.

By day nine after your fever had broken, you were beginning to feel semi human once more. You still had issues with exhaustion and light sensitivity, but you certainly felt more better than you had done in weeks.

Luke had given up on waiting.

“Ash, they said a week after the fever went down, they’d no longer be contagious. This is killing me.” You’d chosen to curl up on the side that was proclaimed as Luke’s side.

Your heart was feeling heavy again.

“I mean. We’re what? A week and a half?” Ashton’s voice was hesitant. You missed the mutter in return before the door opened and there was a knock on your door.

Luke stuck his head in and you wanted to cry.

“Reckon you can put up with some self care cuddles?” You simply nodded your head and shuffled into the middle of the bed. Luke wasted no time, his arms wrapped around you and you could feel every part of you seemingly shaking.

Ashton followed a few minutes later and your memory seemed to fail you in that moment. You could barely remember the last six weeks, but the feeling of comfort was something entirely different as they held you.

That was when you began to sob in earnest because you’d missed them. And they knew it.

When you’d calmed down, part of you felt torn because you wanted to hold them both, not let go and just lay there. But they didn’t protest when you’d snuggle up to one, legs tangled and arms wrapped around tight and eventually switch to the other.

If anything, it amused them both.

As the day got later, Ashton untangled himself, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Luke was your current cuddle buddy of choice.

Turning your head, your confusion must have shown because Ashton smiled gently.

“We need to keep up with the meals, love. I’m gonna make some soup for all of us, how does that sound?” You hummed in agreement.

“It’s allowed I guess. But you gotta come back.” And he chuckled, leaning over to kiss your forehead, doing the same to Luke before disappearing out of your room.

“You realise that he’s going to mother hen you to death, right?” Luke teased and you shrugged.

“He’s here. You both are. That’s more than enough for me.” You murmured softly. Luke held you that little bit tighter.

“You up for a shower sweetheart?” You hesitated, your mind drifting back to the previous two times you showered. The hesitation must have been obvious because Luke pressed a kiss to the top of your head, not willing to push you.

“Will you, will you help? It’ll be a tight fit but, I struggled the last two times.” You finally admitted to him and he smiled.

“C’mon. We can let the chef know as we pass him.” You giggled at his words, allowing him to help you out of the bed and making your way slowly across the room. Luke didn’t push, but he kept his arms available and easy for you to grab if you needed him.

You’d made it to the kitchen before you relied on him a bit more, your joints achy and your legs shaking.

“Gonna get this one showered and clean.” Luke called into the kitchen where Ashton was cooking. He glanced back and grinned at you both before turning back to the food and you two carried on.

Luke was nothing but patient with you as you climbed into the shower, his tall body fitting into the rest of the space. He was gentle as he helped you and it took the pressure off you, focusing on keeping yourself upright as his hands started working the shampoo into your hair.

You’d forgotten how well he massaged your scalp when washing your hair, and you only protested when he rinsed it out, making him laugh.

“I forgot how nice your head massages were.” You groaned as he worked the conditioner in. You carefully washed your body with the shower gel, cleaning Luke’s body whilst you were at it.

He tried to stop you but you gave him pleading eyes and he relented easily. Using the time whilst your hair was soaking in the conditioner to wash his own hair quickly whilst you cleaned his body.

And then his fingers were back in your hair, cleaning out the conditioner and you had to stop yourself from leaning into him.

Once you were clean and dried off, dressed and the towels over Luke’s shoulder, you could feel yourself begin to flag again, leaning heavily on Luke for the short trip back to your room.

“I’ve got you sweet.” He murmured as you passed the kitchen. Ashton was talking with one of your neighbours who gave you a small wave but didn’t stop you to talk. Part of you felt guilty, but the larger part felt relieved because you were almost certain once you’d eaten something, you were going to be asleep.

Once you were back in your bedroom, you scooted so that your back was resting against the headboard whilst Luke let the towels hang so that they could dry and put everything back in its place. He understood your need for everything in its own place, whilst Ashton understood, but still sometimes made a small game of moving things to see if you’d notice.

Luke could see that you were too tired to even be playful.

When Ashton returned, he frowned for a moment before resting the first bowl on your lap, spoon already in the bowl.

“Don’t worry about eating it all. Just try to eat something for us.” He encouraged gently, handing Luke his own bowl before heading back to retrieve his own.

You were slow and methodical before your stomach protested and you left the spoon in the bowl, your head resting on Luke’s shoulder.

“M’ready for sleep.” You muttered and he hummed in acknowledgement. He’d long since finished his bowl, as had Ashton.

“You alright with Ash for a bit, love? Since he cooked, I’ll clean.” Luke murmured and you just nodded before shuffling till you were laid down. Ashton followed and you snuggled into him.

You barely heard his murmured “sleep well” before you were fast asleep.

It was the first night that you’d slept for eight hours and it felt almost refreshing, especially after having the shower the previous night.

You were still nestled into Ashton’s side, Luke’s arm was slung over you both, his hand resting on Ashton’s stomach. You felt very safe between your men and you were so grateful that they were with you in that moment.

It was another hour before either of them stirred, but you’d been resting in that hour, not really awake but not asleep either. Luke was first to move, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he moved off the bed.

“Morning, love. How are you feeling today?” He murmured as he stretched. You shifted onto your back and gave an experimental test of your joints. They weren’t so bad and your cough had eased up that your chest no longer hurt if there was the occasional cough.

“Better, I think. It’s only a dull ache, the kind I get when you two put me through the paces at the gym.” You admitted softly and Luke grinned as Ashton stretched out, almost like a cat before turning on his side to face you.

“Nice to hear that, angel. And good morning.” You grinned at him and kissed him gently before glancing at the time.

“What are we doing today?” You asked quietly as Luke continued to stretch out his muscles. Part of you felt bad for them both to be stuck inside with you, but you were much too selfish to let that bad feeling linger.

“I’m gonna do some exercises and then Ash is probably gonna do his own. And then a movie day for the rest of the day?” He posed the question and you paused before nodding your head. It sounded good to you and it meant you had some individual time with each of them.

The morning passed by easily. They did their exercises and showered before returning to your room that Luke had playfully dubbed ‘The Den’. Ashton had laughed at that as he went to set up in the living room for another live, but this time Luke was staying with you. They’d been trading off which had bothered you first, but then Ashton explained their reason.

“We don’t really want to leave you alone. Not that you can’t take care of yourself,” he hastily added on upon seeing your look of outrage, “but being so far away whilst you were so ill, it kinda scared us. We don’t want to leave you by yourself yet. It’s more to ease our own anxieties.” And you relaxed before shoving any negative thoughts to the back of your mind.

Luke was napping when your phone went off-Ashton was still on the live-and you answered the No Caller ID hesitantly.

It was the hospital that you were at, a nurse confirming who you were before she’d go any further. It took a few moments before she got to the point of the phone call.

“So we’re calling you about the various tests. I’m assuming that you know you were confirmed with COVID-19, correct?”

“Yeah, about two days after the test, someone called to let me know.” You responded hesitantly. You wondered what this was about.

“And how are you feeling?” You were confused.

“I mean, I’m coming up to two weeks of no fever and starting to feel a lot better. I’m just more exhausted but I suspect that’s because of what my body went through.” You explained quietly and you heard her hum in agreement. Luke shifted beside you and you noticed that he was awake, only because his hand had started to drift up and down your spine.

“That’s good to hear. What I’m calling about is that you’d said your kidneys had been hurting upon admittance, correct?”

“Yes.” You were worried now.

“So when we looked at the numbers, we noticed that they’d started dropping. Not drastically enough for us to have you in intensive care, but that was why we moved you to the ward. It was as a precaution.” You felt your heart race at her words.

“They’d started failing again, hadn’t they?” You whispered and she sighed.

“Yes. However, because the numbers were back on the rise when we took your second blood test, we felt that we could discharge you safely. Had they dropped further, you’d have been admitted to intensive care. The only reason why you weren’t told immediately was because we didn’t want you to panic or go into further distress which could’ve made it much more worse.”

It hit you like a ton of bricks what she was saying.

“Is there anything I need to worry about?” You finally choked out, your hands trembling.

“At this time, no. When things ease up, we will request you get another test just to confirm you’re clear of the virus. Otherwise for now, just rest up and feel better soon.”

“Thank you.” You got out, ending the call. Luke took the phone from your trembling hands and he sat up, pulling you onto his lap, his arms around you.

“What happened, love?” You were trying to take in slow deep breaths to stop the panic attack, knowing that it wouldn’t help you.

“They’ve just told me, when I went into hospital, my kidneys were failing.” You whispered and his arms tightened around you tighten enough that he understood the implications.

You’d told them both of the previous two times when you’d been so ill that your kidneys had started failing and as a result you’d been on death's door.

You didn’t realise you were hyperventilating until Luke began to rub his hands up and down your arms to try and distract you, but your mind was too focused on the fact that you’d escaped death, again.

“Ashton!” Luke called loudly, a tinge of panic in his own voice.

Ashton practically crashed through into your door and his face was ashen as he took in your state, a look of relief followed by concern filling his features. He clambered onto the bed, his hands cupping your face gently. When you didn’t flinch away, he ducked his head to catch your eyes.

“Slow deep breaths sweetheart. We’ve got you.” It took you a while before you could finally focus on Luke’s hands which were still rubbing your arms gently.

“How’s your sense of smell?” Ashton teased as he noted that you were fighting to keep your breathing under control.

“Smell you and Luke, favourite smell.” You muttered and he grinned. You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch and he let his thumb brush across your cheeks in comfort.

“What happened?” Despite the question being directed at you, you knew that Ashton was also asking Luke.

“A nurse from the hospital phoned I think. They explained about the blood tests they’d run. Apparently their kidneys were failing when they’d gone in, but not enough to alarm the hospital staff or get them rushed to intensive care.” His voice was calm and you needed that.

You knew that Ashton understood what he wasn’t saying, but also you weren’t too sure if you could voice it properly without crying.

“Come here sweetheart.” Ashton’s tone brokered no arguments and you moved so that you were cradled in his lap, his back resting against the headboard. Luke was nestled as close as possible.

“Part of me knew something was wrong, but, not that.” You whispered finally. Ashton made a soothing sound as you let your head rest on his shoulder, face pressed into his neck.

“It’s one thing to guess, it’s another thing to be told, love. You’re allowed to cry because it’s a frightening thing to be told.” His voice was one of reason and you finally let it out, allowing them both to comfort you as you processed what had been said.

He wasn’t wrong. It was one thing to guess, but to be told that your kidneys had started failing once more, it was frightening.

Neither of them moved away from you as you got it off your chest. You couldn’t pin how long had passed until you finally took a steadying breath, lifting your head from Ashton’s neck. Luke was first to move, his thumb wiping the tear tracks and you gave him a weak smile.

It dawned on you then that Ashton had been on a live.

“Ash, I’m sorry.” You finally whispered and he gave you a confused look.

“What are you sorry for? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“The live you were doing...” You trailed off and he shrugged.

“They’ll get over it. You’re more important and we’re doing more radio interviews on the live so it doesn’t matter.” He muttered and you didn’t push, relaxing in his hold. Luke glanced at the clock and gave you a gentle smile.

“My turn to make lunch. Nothing cooked unfortunately, but I make a damn good sandwich.” He teased playfully which made you giggle, a sigh escaping your lips as he left after giving you both gentle kisses.

“Just think, tomorrow we can take you out for a short walk.”

“Freedom.” You muttered deadpan, making him laugh as his lips found yours.

“Even for half an hour, it’ll help. Home stretch now.” You mustered up a smile for him before stretching your legs out and he moved with you, his arms not quite leaving your body.

“Am I not allowed to lie down?” You queried and he shook his head, a playful grin on his lips as he pulled you flush against his body, his lips finding your neck.

“No, all mine to have and feast on.” The cackle like laugh that he let off had you giggling as he blew a raspberry on your skin. This earned a squeal from you, laughing as he rocked you back and forth. “No one can take you from me!”

You were still laughing when Luke returned with three plates, an amused grin on his lips as he raised an eyebrow.

“Save me Lu! Ash is gonna feast on me!” You shrieked again as he blew another raspberry into your neck, the ticklish sensation making you laugh as he held you tightly.

Luke set the plates down before climbing on the bed, his lips curving into a smirk, making you pause.

“Can I feast with you Ash?” And you groaned as Ashton laughed as Luke straddled the both of you, his body causing the three of you to fall back onto the bed, effectively trapping you between the two of them as Luke left gentle kisses along your neck and you held back your moan, knowing that if he started to pull at the skin you were a goner.

Pulling back, he had a cheeky grin on his lips and you groaned as Ashton laughed.

“You two are the worst. Let me eat, you monsters!” You cried out playfully, making them both laugh as Luke shifted himself off you to get the plates once more and Ashton loosened his hold on your waist.

The rest of the day passed quietly, Ashton had apologised for having to ditch and the three of you settled watching movies long into the early hours of the morning.

Despite the lack of sleep, you were still up early excited that you were finally allowed to go for a walk today, and both of them laughed at your excitement.

Once you were dressed, they followed your lead and got ready. And then you were out of the building and the fresh air felt glorious, even if there was a spattering of rain. You didn’t care.

You led them both to a small pathway that led to the river that ran through the town, the edge of the river filled with cherry blossom trees. Both of them were taking as many photos as they could and you couldn’t hide your smile if you tried.

Ashton managed to get a nice selfie of the three of you under one of the trees and before long, you realised that the half an hour had gone by and you were beginning to struggle, your legs becoming a little bit shaky.

But it didn’t deter from the fact that you’d been able to go out for a walk and enjoy it. Both Luke and Ashton could see the immediate difference.

“We’ll go out every day and stay an extra five minutes longer. Build you up. How does that sound?” Ashton asked as you walked up the driveway, arm in arm with the both of them.

“That sounds good. Onwards and upwards from here and I am so going to kick your butts at Mario Kart now.”

Their laughter rang around the empty drive as you reached the building and you felt much more positive with them by your sides.

if you wanna be added to my taglist just hmu!!

@sexgodashton, @goth5sos, @calumsmermaid, @empathycth, @wildflowergrae, @calpops, @rosecolouredash, @cal-puddies, @clockwork124, @loveroflrh, @stellar5sosrecs, @ashtoniwir, @cthla, @liketheydidwithyou, @sc0ttish-wildfl0wer, @bluehairedtracii, @drummerboy794, @feliznavidaddycal, @ukulelecal, @wokeupinjapanisabop, @converse-luke, @madbomb, @ccnicole02 @youngblood199456, @megz1985, @lukesidentitycrisis, @snapback-irwie, @neonweeknds, @666yourwitchyfriend666, @cherrycolamike, @cashtonasfuck, @ashtaway, @conquerwhatliesahead92, @itjustkindahappenedreally, @kchillout, @damselindistressanu, @colormekaykay, @findingliam-o, @sublimehood, @sugarcoated-pain, @singt0mecalum, @singledadharrington, @calumspeachy, @colourfulcalum, @lostincalum, @burncrashbromance, @asht0ns-world, @flusteredcliffo, @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave, @fangirl-everythang, @lashtondaddies, @calumssunshine, @ambskiwi, @abundant-stars, @myescapefromthislife, @lmao5sosimagines, @beyoncesdragon, @jae-writes-fanfiction, @cxddlyash, @tresfandom, @utterly-u-n-p-e-r-f-e-c-t, @niallisworld, @lietomevalntyn, @babylon-corgis, @monochrome44, @behind-my-hazeleyes27, @ghost0fy0u, @lyllibug, @bloodmoonashton, @ghostofmashton, @summerellaz, @a-little-less-sixteen, @cashworthy, @smokeinherlungs, @longlastingdaydream, @h0tsos, @sweetcherrymike, @5sosnsfw, @sugar-nico, @angel-cal, @samros95, @maluminspace, @lukeinblue, @cakesunflower, @allamerican-betch, @britnicole11, @gigglyirwin, @loverofcashton, @iovehemmings, @g-l-pierce, @jannimoeller3, @wildmichaelflower, @lukeskisses, @5sossstan, @youngbloodchild, @abb-lan-5sos, @calumsbub, @flameraine, @here-for-the-uproars, @mateisit-balsamic, @ilovelukey, @goldenmndes, @musiclover1263, @alloutofcashton, @tobefalling, @sarahshepherdblog, @cassie-sos, @banditocth, @cthwldflwr,

if you’ve been removed from my taglist it’s because i couldn’t tag you!!

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jaskiersvalley · 5 years ago

Note

So I'm sure that a lot of people tell you this and that I myself told you not even a few days ago, but you are an amazingly talented person

With so many people being so nice (repeatedly!) I need to watch my ego XD I honestly have no idea what I can do to return the kindness other than offer the only thing I have which is more stories. Today it’s a hurt/comfort kind of day - heads up for blood, infection and injury.

Of course Geralt had warned Jaskier to stay out of the way, to follow Roach and leave the fight to him. But could he? Not in the slightest. Jaskier had stayed close to watch, to draw inspiration for his next epic. Well, first epic. Usually, he was more for happy ditties and memorable drinking songs. But a bard could dream! So he had stayed and watched Geralt battle the...something. It had a name that simple wouldn’t be fit for singing so Jaskier had promptly forgotten it in favour of taking note of the swirling blackness that shifted along barbed tentacles. The dripping fangs and the spider like body heavy with the grey-green sludge that trickled and dripped from the wounds Geralt had inflicted. The stench of it hit Jaskier all at once and he was hard pressed to keep breathing, retching noisily. Which only served to draw the creature’s attention and a tentacle shot out. Jaskier turned but it was too late, barbs sliced through his back, sent a burning agony through him. The pull which tried to reel him in stopped and Jaskier let out a cry of relief, the tentacle fell limp from his back. Turning,he was Geralt had sliced it clean off and was now on the creature’s back, sword raised for the final, killing plunge.

Black eyes looked over to Jaskier. “Alright?”

There was no way Jaskier was going to admit to being foolish and being injured as a result so he gritted his teeth and shot back a tight “peachy”. It seemed to do the trick as Geralt hopped off the monster’s back and set about his post kill ritual. Parcelling up useful parts of the creature, bits to sell and the head to claim the bounty. Then it was a matter of finding Roach and heading back to the tavern. It was slow going, Geralt led the way, holding Roach’s reins while Jaskier tried to keep up. His back was a burning somewhat fierce and he wondered whether he could slip off to see a healer while Geralt was sleeping.

His hopes were dashed when, as soon as they were back, Geralt was telling him to pack up, they were leaving as soon as he picked up the bounty. No amount of wheedling and nagging seemed to change his mind. So, Jaskier did the only thing he could. Put on a dark coloured shirt and a leather overcoat. It was too warm for it probably but it was the only thing he had which wouldn’t soak through with blood. He tucked his shirt into his trousers, keeping he waist looser than usual. That way, any blood would trickle down the shirt and not soak the back of his clothes.

Leaving the town, Jaskier sighed. It hurt to play his lute, each breath pulled at his back. So he opted to stay quiet and tried to keep pace with Geralt who was leading Roach rather than riding her. Probably because she had a fair few things attached to her saddle.

The first night, they settled under the protection of some trees, a little way off the road. Remembering Geralt’s superior sense of smell, Jaskier was sure to stay downwind form him and also liberally applied his scented oils to drown out the smell of his blood. His whole back was sticky, the shirt clung to his skin. It was quite disgusting but Jaskier refused to admit his foolishness. Now, it was more because Geralt would be angry at the fact he didn’t mention it at all, rather than the fact that Jaskier, once again, failed to listen to him.

Sleeping on his back was out of the question, so Jaskier ended up on his front, breath only hitching once as he turned. It took a while to fall asleep but he hoped it would do him some good at least.

It did not. Jaskier woke feeling cold but sweaty. His whole back felt tender and stretched, like someone had taped a balloon of molten metal to it. Breakfast was out of the question as nausea made him squeeze his eyes shut. Still, he got up, applied his scented oils, ignored how his shirt had dried to his skin and pulled with each move. He let Geralt go ahead with Roach and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

Up front, Geralt was saying something about a hunt, some creature or other. Jaskier honestly couldn’t care less though, his attention eaten up by moving forward, by trying to keep up. His foot caught on a rock and he tumbled, hand shooting out to catch himself. Something on his back gave, warm sludge trickled lower, slowly, too thick to be blood. Geralt didn’t even notice, he might have been talking to Roach for all Jaskier knew. It was certainly more than Geralt usually spoke.

“Geralt,” his voice was strained, “stop.”

Silence engulfed them. Jaskier blinked, patches of dark were dancing in his vision but he could still see the frowning glare Geralt sent his way. A few steps were all Jaskier could manage when a sudden gust of wind from behind picked up. He saw Geralt’s nose twitch and his eyes widen.

Warm hands were on Jaskier, guiding him down slower than he would have met the ground at his own pace. Words rumbled near him but other than knowing it was Geralt’s familiar voice, Jaskier couldn’t focus. His back was hurting, shoulders being forced to roll to slip out of the jacket. Behind him, Geralt sounded angry and Jaskier tried to shy away, not wanting to cause more problems than he already had. However, a hand held him down and something was cutting the back of his shirt open.

Pain was the only thing in Jaskier’s world after that. Pressure on his back increased but the pressing discomfort that radiated from within seemed to ease. The burning of something being poured over his back might have made him scream, Jaskier couldn’t tell if his voice was more than whimpers now. Finally, he slipped from consciousness.

Occasionally he roused. The rhythmic jostle of a horse moving under him while an arm was curled around him to keep him upright. It might have been night or Jaskier could have had his face tucked against a warm chest, he didn’t know.

Another moment where there were people gasping, the world tilted and the sound of feet running while Jaskier floated on a bed of pain.

A bed, it didn’t smell like tavern or Geralt or home. His back was on fire, a thousand tiny prickles which only got worse as he tried to move. Solid hands held him down, there were words somewhere near him but Jaskier couldn’t make out what they were saying. All he knew was that he was in pain and wasn’t being allowed to escape it.

The sheer agony was less the next time he was aware of the world. More bearable but he still didn’t want it. Jaskier was on his front, a few blocks of ice along his sides which made him shiver. Someone brushed a warm hand over his forehead before offering him a few sips of tepid water that tasted sweet yet rotten.

“Geralt?” he called out the next time he woke, a little more coherent.

“He’s sleeping,” a voice called and Jaskier twisted to look. Yennefer sat next to him, looking as beautiful as ever. Even if her eyes betrayed the fatigue she’d never actually show. “Once he knew you were going to pull through, he crashed. It’s been almost a day for him, eight for you.”

Guilt washed over Jaskier at that. Eight days of people fighting to keep him alive. All because he had been stupid and not listened to Geralt.

“Sorry.” It wasn’t often Jaskier apologised but this time, he felt he ought to. “And thank you.”

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with a Witcher,” Yennefer replied haughtily and Jaskier’s stomach tightened. He dreaded to think what Geralt had traded this time. “Relax, he didn’t do anything stupid. Paid me in scented oils - orange and lilacs. Said he couldn’t face their scent after they had been tainted so badly.”

Maybe it was fair that Jaskier’s scented oils were traded for his treatment. And if Geralt couldn’t stomach them now that they reminded him of Jaskier, oozing puss and blood as he fought for his life, well, it was perhaps for the best to be rid of them.

“You said you’d wake me if he came to.” It didn’t sound like Geralt was particularly impressed with the world. More so than usual.

“He’s been awake for three whole minutes. I had to check he was fit for company.”

There was a rumble of response from Geralt as he approached, sat on the edge of Jaskier’s bed and reached to smooth hair from his face. It was a move that felt familiar and Jaskier pressed into it.

“How are you feeling?” It was such an honest question, heartfelt in a way it rarely was from Geralt that Jaskier could only reply honestly.

“Like I’ve spent the last week dying. I certainly smell like it.” That drew a snort from Geralt, not quite filled with humour but close enough. It made Jaskier brave, he wrapped weak fingers around Geralt’s wrist and tugged lightly, adoring how easily the other followed. “This is your signature smell on a good day, you won’t mind a cuddle with someone who smells as bad as you.”

The cuddle was gentle, more like Geralt was cradling the most fragile, precious thing in the world. And to him, he might as well have been. Jaskier let out a sigh and burrowed closer to him, basking in the warmth and comfort.

“I should have listened.” His half-assed apology was lost to the muscles of Geralt’s chest but it didn’t stop him being understood.

“I don’t say things for the fun of it. But if you hide an injury from me again, I will personally kill you.” Geralt replied, his arms tightening just a little. Behind him, Yennefer snorted and stood.

“Well, that’s all on the up. I’ll check in on you in a couple of hours.” She made to leave but turned. “And Jaskier will not be up for any bedroom acrobatics for another couple of days. Don’t even try it.”

While she didn’t get any response to that other than some soft snickering, she wasn’t surprised when she returned, as promised, that Jaskier was curled up into Gerlat’s bare chest, both of them sleeping and looking rather dishevelled yet smug. Idiots, the both of them. Very deserving of each other if they couldn’t listen to simple instructions.

#geraskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #the witcher #random love in the ask box #tldr: jaskier is an idiot who doesn't listen to geralt and gets injures plus almost dies #cw: blood and injuries #hurt/comfort #hurt jaskier

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

Text

Out of The Hive, Into The Cocoon

[Wing AU]

Wing Reference

Word count: 2284

Prompt: “Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”

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

“I don’t feel that well…”

“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”

Jane rolled her eyes at Joan’s wounded expression. She canted her harpy eagle wings away, as if she were afraid the Flightless’s presence may dirty the pristine, shiny feathers. Joan noticed that, too, and looked even more hurt.

“What’s going on this time?” Kitty asked loudly. Her glass butterfly wings are blindingly iridescent in the overhead fluorescent lights and make Joan feel even more dizzy and nauseous than she already was.

“None of your business.” Joan snapped. She rubbed her wrists, which haven’t stopped burning since the night before. Her stomach was all cramped up, too, like something was trying to claw its way out of her.

“Must not be important then,” Kitty said with a shrug.

“Kitty’s right,” Jane said. “Don’t waste our time, Joan. We’re going to perform in an hour and don’t need you distracting us.”

“But--”

“If you felt bad, then you should have called in sick or left sooner.” Jane cut her off coldly.

She whisked away after that, leaving Joan alone in the hall to stew in embarrassment and increasing discomfort. Joan sighed and trudged to her dressing room to get ready, but was stopped by a sharp twinge in her wingbuds. She winced and reached back, but a pain in her wrists halted the movement. She yanked her arms forward again.

And her wrists burst open and silver came exploding out.

Silk.

Joan let out a cry of pain and jumped back, but the stuff pouring from her followed like starved snakes. It began to wrap around her arms and legs and chest, and she desperately tried to tear the silk off of her, but not only was it sticky, but it was also really strong and refined. She scratched and pulled, but it either stuck to her hands or just didn't come off. She frantically covered the slit in one of her wrists, trying to stop the flow, and the strands merely wove around her fingers and consumed them.

She tottered backwards and sunk to her knees, overcome by an intense feeling of nausea like she hadn’t eaten in years, every energy source in her body--fats, carbs, calories, sugars--were being burned away by this hellish process. She opened her mouth to scream or cry for help, but found that she couldn’t even muster up a mere squeak of noise. Cramps seized her stomach in a vice grip, like all her organs were being shredded inside of her. Her vision was starting to fade out as the silk wrapped around her neck and face and she wondered if this was how she died. She suffocates because of some mutation she doesn’t even understand.

Joan doesn’t want to die, not like this, not again, not without flying at least once, not without a single person who cares about her…

Then, blackness. The silk wrapped around her entire body until she looked mummified, and then spun itself larger and larger and larger.

The last thing she heard was someone stepping into her dressing room, telling her she was needed by someone on tech, and then nothing.

She prayed they would help her.

------

Everyone stared in shock at the silvery-gold cocoon sitting in the corner of the dressing room. It was the shape of an egg lying on its side and was so thick with silk that none of them could see the music director inside. It just sat there, glowing faintly, not showing any signs of breaking open anytime soon.

“She did not…” Maggie said, trailing off, flabbergasted.

“She did too.” Maria affirmed.

“What the fuck?” Jane said. “I thought she was Flightless. She is Flightless. What happened?”

“You sound disappointed.” Bessie commented. Her big bat ears were swiveling around, as if she were trying to listen for any signs of life inside the cocoon.

Jane ruffled. “I’m--” Her tail feathers bristle, wings twitching in agitation. “I’m just confused.”

“Uh huh.” Bessie nodded, deftly dodging the glare Jane shot her by wing her ears to block out the corners of her vision.

“It’s definitely an insect avian cocoon,” Cathy said. She stepped forward and tapped the cocoon. “Maybe she was just a really late insect and not actually Flightless.”

“There’s no way!” Kitty barked. She almost looked jealous at not being the only butterfly anymore.

“Well, whatever it is,” Cathy went on, “it’s going to make performing difficult for the next week until she comes out.”

“IF she even comes out,” Anne said, and Jane looked slightly wistful at that concept.

“We could always cut it open,” Kitty suggested breezily. “Get her out early.”

Aragon shot Kitty a disgusted look. “Don’t your insides melt during metamorphosis?” She asked. “If we cut her out, she’ll probably die. And not entirely be a solid person anymore.”

“Oh.” Kitty said, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh. Oh well.”

“Well,” Cleves said, “we got a lot of waiting to do.”

------

Aragon resisted the urge to smash her wings into Maggie’s head when the magpie poked the fragile structure of Joan’s cocoon, and she wasn’t sure why.

“How long will this take?” Maggie asked, already impatient even though it’s only been a day since Joan started metamorphosis.

“A week, I think.” Cathy answered.

“A week?!” Both Maggie and Anne yelped.

“We’re never going to get our MD back!” Anne groaned dramatically, flopping out her wings.

“What a shame,” Jane mused.

“Yes we will?” Cathy tilted her head at Anne. “She’s coming out eventually.”

“Yes,” Aragon agreed. “A week is fine. She can take all the time she needs.”

The others glanced at her strangely, but she ignored them. Just like how she was trying to ignore the weird maternal instincts welling up inside of her.

------

“Is it now? It is happening? Is that a sign? What does that mean?”

“I will throttle you if you don’t shut up.”

Anne snickered at Aragon’s annoyance, then fixed her eyes back on Joan’s cocoon. It was as plain and still and boring as the day before. And the day before that.

“Nothing is happening,” Aragon added. “It looks exactly the same.”

“Are you sure?” Anne said. She waved a parrot green wing at one side of the cocoon. “Doesn’t that side look a little crinkled? Hey, Kit!” She turned to her cousin passing by in the hallway. “Is this a sign she’s going to come out?”

“Sure,” Kitty said, not caring.

“This is so boring.” Anne said to Aragon. “I’m gonna go find something else to do. You were right.”

Aragon rolled her eyes in amusement at the bird, then fixed her eyes on the cocoon.

“Come out when you’re ready, Joan,” She said. “I’ll be waiting.”

------

By the fourth day, most people stopped gawking at the cocoon. Only a few workers would stop by to look at it, but quickly went on with their work, not really caring anymore. The lump of silk was sort of just there now, almost forgotten. Just like Joan had been.

------

On the fifth day, Aragon found Kitty alone in the dressing room, staring intently at the cocoon with a look in her eye that Aragon did not like. When she was noticed, Kitty flicked her wings dismissively and walked out without a word. That night, Aragon dreamed of the cocoon being ripped open and Joan coming out in agony, horribly disfigured and screaming.

------

For the eleventh time on the sixth day, Aragon counted the food she had bought. Fruits and vegetables, cookies and chips, cheese strings and slices of sandwich meat-- She worried her talons in her feathers and hoped it would be enough for when Joan woke up. Cathy had said Joan was going to be extremely hungry when she woke up, so she was just preparing, that’s all. Nobody else was going to, so she just decided to do it herself. That’s all. There were no maternal implications going on at all. Nope. None.

Aragon stole a glance back at the faintly glowing cocoon in the corner. It looked exactly the same as it did six days ago.

Or did it?

Aragon walked over to the cocoon, circling around it for a moment before kneeling beside it. She carefully placed both hands on the surface, folding her wings away, and pressed her head against the woven material.

“Joan? Can you hear me?” She whispered softly, so softly, like she was afraid she might disturb the girl inside. “It’s Catalina, Joan. I’m here. I’m right here. You’re doing great, sweetheart. You’ll look so beautiful once you get out of there, baby girl.”

Aragon found that she was missing the girl. Like, really badly. She missed Joan’s shy smile and her gentleness and how she was always so passionate about music, even if it took everything out of her. She missed everything about the timid little music director, and she hadn’t realized how much she enjoyed seeing her everyday, even if they didn’t talk that often, until right now.

And then the silk moved against her skin, a slight push and give, as though the avian inside was nudging her back or saying that she missed her, too.

------

It was late afternoon of the seventh day when the cocoon moved. Aragon and Cathy, who were both in the dressing room waiting, snapped their heads up in sync, watching closely as if they thought that if they looked away for even a second the week would start all over again.

Right when they started to believe it had been their imagination, the cocoon moved again. And, this time, it wasn’t spotted in the corner of their peripheral vision.

Joan was coming out.

“It’s happening.” Aragon said after everyone was gathered in the dressing room, as if they didn’t already know that. She grabbed and squeezed Cleves’s arm tightly, not realizing that her talons were digging in. “Do you remember your metamorphosis?” She snapped her head around to Kitty. “Is there anything we should do when she comes out? What if she needs help getting out of the cocoon? Can she get out on her own?”

“Oh my god,” Kitty groaned in annoyance. “I don’t know!”

“How can you not know?!” Aragon squawked, beating her wings. “You literally went through this!!”

“I forgot.” Kitty shrugged.

“No you didn’t.” Aragon growled. “You’re just not saying anything because you want to be a selfish--”

A crack split down the front of the cocoon. Aragon shut her mouth instantly before she could finish her scolding and whipped her gaze forward again. Fingers with new, tiny curved claws grabbed the edges of the slice and began pulling open, then clawing when that didn’t work.

“Is she okay?” Aragon asked. “She looks like she’s struggling. Is she struggling? Cathy, is she okay?” She looked at her goddaughter, sinking her talons deeper into Cleves’s arm. She didn’t even hear Cleves’s hiss of pain.

“She’s fine, Catalina.” Cathy assured her. “From what I’ve read, this is normal. Just give her a moment.”

Aragon swallowed thickly, but nodded and looked forward again.

Hand prints could be seen pressing against the inside of the cocoon as the silk bindings were slowly scratched away. After a moment of fighting with the structure (and Kitty muttering, “I got out a lot faster than this” underneath her breath), an arm poked out, then another...and then another.

Right. Insect avians have four arms. That’s probably going to be daunting to Joan after having only two for so long.

The three visible arms, which were all covered in a thick, dripping shag of pink-yellow fluff from the elbow down, dug their claws into the surface of the cocoon, tearing and crinkling the silk, and then a familiar head popped out.

“Joan,” Aragon breathed. “Joan, we’re here. I’m here. You’re doing so good!”

“When did you start caring so much?” Jane asked, but shut up when Cathy nudged her.

Elegant golden antenna that looked like feathers unfurled from the crown of Joan’s head and waved in the air. Tufts of pink and yellow, like the fuzz on her arms, were matted by wetness on her ears. When she shoved more of her upper body out of the shredded cocoon, they all could see that 1) she was completely naked from her clothing being eroded by the cocoon’s fluids, and 2) there was more of that pink and yellow fluff on her chest and belly. It completely covered up her breasts until it looked like she didn’t even have any anymore (maybe she didn’t), and her ribs could just barely be seen under the blanket of fur, which was so long it reached down her torso. Her flat stomach had patches, too, making it soft and fuzzy, much different from the chitin on Kitty, Cathy, and Maria.

With a splash and a cascade of cocoon fluids, Joan collapsed forward on her stomach. A few of the spectators looked away from her nakedness and stepped back from the liquids now spilled across the floor, but Aragon couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight. Her heart was beating rapidly inside of her chest. She had the unresisting urge to run over and swaddle Joan in her wings.

Joan twitched on the ground, then took a deep breath. Fishhook-like claws scraped down against the tile as she tried to regain mobility. Cocoon fluid dripped off her wet hair and pale skin that was now bristled with fuzz. She unfolded her wings to let them dry, and everyone in the room gasped.

They were beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Aragon had thought that Kitty’s glass-like wings were the prettiest wings to ever exist in the entire world, but not even their iridescence could live up to the beauty of Joan’s rosy maple moth wings.

Pastel pink and banana yellow swirled together in beautiful shades across fuzzy chitin, as if the sunset itself had bled itself upon Joan’s wings. They were gigantic and curved into the most precious shapes Aragon had ever seen before.

Joan looked up, and her eyes were rings of moon silver blinking from an abyss of solid black.

“Ta-dah!” She squeaked hoarsely.

#wing au #six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six fanfiction #katherine howard #jane seymour #catherine of aragon #joan on the keys #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #catherine parr #maggie on the guitar #maria on the drums #bessie on the bass #out of the hive into the cocoon #mamagon

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pepperidgefarmremembers · 4 years ago

Text

Enjoy this one-shot for Kataang Week. I don't own ATLA.

Blood/Wounds

The moon was full and bright above the gang's camp site in the forest. Katara took a sharp inhale as her vision began to blur slightly. "Owwwwwwww," the waterbender screamed through gritted teeth. Her screams and whines pierced the loud silence of the woods around her. Lying on the ground among the trees, she was paralyzed with the deep rooted pain from her abdomen. Every time she reached for her water pouch, a sharp pain throbbed throughout her whole body. Her head snapped upright as she heard footsteps in the grass.

"Katara! What's going on, are you okay? Toph woke us up all freaked out from sensing that you out here in pain," Aang said rapidly.

The young airbender, who just a few weeks ago, defeated Fire Lord Ozai, seemed miles away as he stood next to his girlfriend. He winced at her curled up in a fetus position with her back facing him. Her gasps and whines occurred in quick succession in between deep exhales.

"I-I'm…" taking a sharp inhale of breath through her teeth, "fine, Aang. Help me get my water out of my pouch."

Aang fumbled for her pouch in the dark before hastily handing it to Katara. I should have used fire for light, I'm such an idiot, Aang thought before immediately returning his eyes to her pained body. He firebended a flame in the palm of his hand to help her see better. His eyes were filled with worry and hurt. He didn't want to ask too many questions because the last thing you want to be asked when you're in pain is how it happened. He watched her slowly unscrew the pouch and covered the water in her hands. His eyes watched in concern as she flinched until she began healing herself. All he wanted in the world was to make her feel better. He felt powerless and helpless. While looking at her silhouette he noticed a big, red stain on her dress near her lower back.

Aang whispered with tears forming in his eyes, "Katara...can you please tell me what happened? I'm worried."

Katara's breathing slowed to a normal pace and felt the blood that had pooled in her lower stomach circulating to the rest of her body. I don't know how I can tell him this, we have only been dating for a month and he's 13 years-old, Katara thought. She felt scared that he would be upset. She was afraid that Aang would see her differently and that he would not want her anymore. She turned on her side to face him.

"Well...I...um….do you know what a monthly cycle is," Katata asked with her eyes tightly closed.

Aang instantly felt a warm, flush of red spreading across his face. His hand that was not holding the flame rubbed his neck nervously.

"Uh-um...I think so. Is that when a woman bleeds every month unless she gets pregnant?"

Katara's eyes opened wide at Aang, appreciating his calm reaction. Maybe this will be okay. I don't know why I was worried, he is definitely not like other guys, she thought.

"So, yeah, that's basically it. I don't want to gross you out so let's just drop it," she sighed as she placed the water back in her pouch.

"No, I want to talk about it! I was so worried! i want to know so I can help you if I can," Aang said quietly.

She took a deep breath before explaining, "Okay...well….with the past year of constant running and stress, I haven't gotten it at all. It wasn't too bad when I did get it, but I only had it a few times before I met you. It's usually almost a week of bleeding. I usually get some cramping, feel sick, and want to cry. I don't know why it's so painful this time. It is a full moon, maybe that has something to do with it. Um, Sorry."

She looked away into the distance, feeling an immeasurable amount of shame and guilt. She was told to never talk about it, especially not to men. She felt like she let out a secret into the world and felt the tears welling up in her eyes. Aang ran to her and knelt at her side. His eyes were still filled with concern but relief at the same time. Relief that this was something normal, something that she could handle. He felt a pang in his heart minutes ago when he saw Katara lying there in pain and agony. It felt like he was wounded. After Katara's explanation, he felt that wound beginning to heal.

"Katara, this isn't something shameful or wrong. Every woman gets this! I never want you to feel like you can't tell me anything. I want you to feel comfortable and I want us to be honest about everything, even if it hurts. I was just worried and my mind thought of the worst," Aang brought his hand to her chin, turning her face to meet his. "I'm glad you're okay and that this seems to be normal. Maybe since you're more connected to the moon as a waterbender, that could be why this is happening? We can try to find out. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?"

Katara smiled and kissed Aang on the lips. He returned her kiss with a blush appearing on his cheeks. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world. He wasn't disgusted or upset. He acted like this wasn't a big deal. I think I love him, she thought. She broke away from the kiss, looking deeply into her boyfriend's eyes.

"Well...if you could not look at my dress when I get up that would be great. And maybe some sea prunes," Katara suggested with a giggle in her throat.

Aang beamed at his beautiful girlfriend with a bright smile, "Of course! Coming right up. Take my hand."

Katara took his hand and slowly stood up, careful to keep her back out of Aang's view.

"Thanks, sweetie, you're the best," Katara said with a big smile, placing her hands around his neck.

Aang wrapped his arms at her hips and looked into her eyes, "Anything for you."

#kataang week #kataang #aang x katara #katara #aang #atla #avatar the last airbender #fanfic #atla fanfic

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mojofun · 4 years ago

Text

Where My Heart Lies (Loki x OC) - Chapter 3

While he is wreaking havoc, Loki runs into a woman that catches his eye, so he takes her with him. She doesn’t seem to mind at all. Will he let her see the darkest side of him though?

Hello :)

This is the third chapter of the story. Hope you guys enjoy

I’m tagging @mrsbellablythe and @queenofchaos7 :)

Gif not mine, credits to @reinamorena26

Loki was lost in his thoughts, walking toward the room reserved for Hayley. Well, stumbling, to be more precise.

He hadn’t been himself for weeks, and he could see it every time he caught a glimpse of his reflection; he felt it in his mind, in his emotions, in everything he was… Or no longer was.

He barely managed to keep up his usual facade of detachedness and teasing, his last resort to push away unwanted attention.

Hayley.

Truth be told, her affection fell in the exact opposite category, but what made him classify it as unwanted was the incredibly strong effect it had on him. His resolve was growing weaker day by day, and it was also thanks to the breathtaking brunette that he had not surrendered just yet.

The nights he spent with her were his escape, the sole moment he had to enjoy being himself, without having to hide that he actually had feelings.

Unfortunately, even that was about to change

“If you do not obey we will take that sweet, precious girl of yours. I’m sure the master will enjoy spending some time with her…”

The Other’s words rang ominously in his ears, making him walk faster and faster toward what had become his second bedroom. If only Hayley saw the one he actually slept in, she’d understand… And he couldn’t let her.

Especially after what the revolting creature had said; sure, there had not been any specific threat, but he would have preferred that, to be honest.

It was so vague, yet terrifying. Hearing it on repeat inside his mind, so faraway like a shout in space and yet so close, looming over their heads…

Her head. He was terrified.

The demigod feared both for her safety and for his heart, if what he had in his chest could still be described as such; Hayley always said -used to, at least: he no longer spent enough time with her as of late to enjoy a proper conversation- he had a heart of gold under his crusty exterior, but he never believed it…

As if to prove him wrong, the withered shred in his chest that once was a muscle began beating again, just for her. It began to beat for the amazing smiles she gave him, for the intensity in her chocolate eyes as she held his gaze, for the warmth he felt whenever he was next to her…

For the feeling of being loved for who he was, something that he had been denied for so long.

Now… Now he’d have to make her hate someone that wasn’t him.

He had to make her hate him, so she would leave.

Truth be told he was surprised she hadn’t already, given how badly he treated her. At first it had been heavenly, finally feeling something again, and something that was not pain. Then…

As time went by, it all spoiled; it began to hurt, badly.

The growing awareness of what he felt for her.

The rising fear for her safety.

The spiralling pain that she felt, and how it took him less and less effort to perceive it; it simply radiated from her.

He felt like a monster for putting her in danger, for making her suffer so much, and he wanted to kick himself for it all, for falling for her in the first place.

He thought back to the day he first met her and cursed himself for being so stupid; he should have never taken her with him. It was supposed to be a little fun, only that.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He felt even more selfish for that, but Hayley was the best thing that happened to him in a long time; one of the best things that ever happened to him in his entire life, he’d bet.

He knew that, without Hayley, everything would be a thousand times worse, but he couldn’t bring himself to take advantage of her- not more than he already was, his subconscious reprimanded.

The thought of blaming her, of being angry because he could no longer think only of himself did not even cross his mind.

Who was his master, the Other or his love for Hayley? Yes, his feelings were beginning to be more of a torture than something to sustain him through the pain.

The trickster gritted his teeth, adjusting his hair to the best of his abilities. The sight of her door made his stomach flinch, and only a titanic effort saved him from retreat. He could have sworn he heard a voice in his ears, saying something about how she must mean much to him, if he was willing to put her needs before his.

A shudder ran down his spine; it wasn’t a voice but rather his own thoughts, that sounded more and more like the Other’s hissing each passing day.

No, he decided; what he felt for the feisty brunette was the only remaining beacon of light in his existence, and he had to protect it. Holding on to that conviction, the black-haired deity stepped inside the room without even knocking, taking on the coldest and most forbidding mask he could.

It proved to be a difficult task : the sight of the woman lying on his bed in a silver robe, snuggled against his pillow while she read a book almost did him in.

He harrumphed, effectively distracting her from the scribbles

<<Loki>> She called unenthusiastically, unawarely delivering a fatal blow to his already weak resistance. It was working: they were drifting apart.

Was it good or bad?

Not selfishness, but his anguish clung to the spunky female in desperation. Luckily, he was able to use that as a push in the right direction

<<Are you surprised to see me?>>

<<As a matter of fact I am>> She sighed, slamming the tome closed with a dull thud <<This visit is out of the normal schedule>>

<<You should no better than to question me>>

<> She shrugged.

He did not know how much of a lie that was, so the hurt he felt was real. Years of experience helped him turn it into anger.

With a grunt he stepped closer to her, yanking her against his chest before he slammed his lips against her. The woman basically melted in his embrace.

It made him think that maybe, just maybe, she liked him too.

That would be a huge problem.

But no, wait, his brain pointed out: if she felt for him even a fraction of what he felt for her, she would be fighting more.

More anger.

Yet, he did not manage to hate her. Not for making him love her nor for making him doubt everything he was.

He needed her, and the thought that he had to let her go tore him apart.

But he’d never let her know that.

He had one last time to enjoy her company, to try to make her understand what she was for him without actually telling her out loud. The rational part of him hoped she would not understand, never, but his heart screamed for her to help him, prayed that she would see right through his facade and help the soul that was withering inside. She did, a little, with her affection, but he needed more than that.

And he was forsaking any chance he had to ever obtain it.

_________________________________________________________

It happened a few hours later, when Hayley woke up a little too early for him to be gone. He could have used his powers, but weakness was taking over him and he chose not to.

Thus, the beautiful brunette caught him exactly when he was about to finish getting dressed; her reaction was everything he hoped for and nothing that he needed

<<So this is it, then>> She groused, glaring at him in the mirror he was looking himself into <>

<<You have bed and board; what do you want more?>>

<<Things you do not understand, apparently>> The woman hissed, reaching for her robe and swiftly wrapping it around herself <>

<<That’s surprisingly wise of you>>

<<Unlike anything else I’ve been doing lately>>

<<I’ll have you know I’ve been often called wise, and clever>>

<<Sneaky and mischievous more likely>> She hissed again

I wish you’d see who I really am

<>

<<Yes, the god of lies. Apparently one of the tasks that come with this title is to make innocent people believe in absurdities>>

<<Oh, I wouldn’t call you innocent, darling>>

Hayley grinned sardonically, snorting uncouthly

<<You’re right, I’m not>>

<<And it’s exactly because of me>> The demigod mocked her.

She grew angry

<<You’re right again. You took everything from me: my innocence, my life, my h->> She suddenly trailed off, and he froze.

Was she about to say heart? Do I want her to say heart?

No. I could not let her go if she loved me

<<My home>> She finished and he sighed in relief, but the nagging voice inside his mind told him it was not what she really meant.

He chose to ignore it as best as he could

<<You can leave, if you don’t want to be here>>

The atmosphere stilled suddenly.

Hayley was frozen, trying to find another meaning to the harsh words he’d just uttered.

Loki felt the deep pangs of guilt, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. He asked himself why she couldn’t see through his lies, and he was reminded that she was, after all, a human, with no magical power.

It was ironic, terribly so, how being a frail human being brought her safety, while his supernatural nature signified his death, yet there they were

<<You brought me here>>

<> Another huge lie that sounded so terribly convincing falling from his lips <<You are nothing more than a concubine, easily replaced>>

I didn’t know my powers included feeling true pain

Apparently they did, because as soon as he’d hissed those false insults a wave of agony washed over him; was it his or hers? He did not know anymore

Please, make her hate me. I won’t be able to let he go if there is even a small chance that she may feel something other than hatred for me

His plan seemed to be working. The glare in Hayley’s eyes grew more threatening than he’d ever expected from her, far more intimidating that he would have given her credit for

<<Fine. Since I’m so unwanted here, I will leave>>

<>

No, he wouldn’t. Not just because he couldn’t -given his “pact” with the Other and so on, but also because a small part of him was still calling out to her.

The brunette shrugged, glaring at him fiercely. The determination that oozed from her was impressive

<>

He snorted

<<I’m looking forward to see how you’ll be able to escape>>

_________________________________________________________

He hadn’t meant to make it sound like a challenge, but she apparently took it as such. During one of the experiments he and his soldiers, so to say, were conducting with the Tesseract to create a portal to the Earth, she somehow snuck up on them and ran through the passage before anyone could stop her, fighting off a few guards in the process.

Loki silently cried out in relief: she was free; she would be safe.

His heart, instead, cried out in pain

She’ll never want to speak to me, to be close to me… I’ll never see her again

#loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki angst #loki fluff #loki x original female character

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cyberneticfire · 5 years ago

Text

Devoid of Stability

(Credit to Void!Al goes to @rileesrambles !)

(Sequel to my other fic Devoid of Music)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Alastor

TW: panic attacks, self-harm, slight gore

~~~

Alastor may have… miscalculated. Yes, he thought as staggering pain tore through his stomach- he had made a slight oversight.

Alastor had faced starvation before. He was sure he would've been able to deal with it again, but he was wrong, and this was so much worse than before. With no way to tell how much time had already passed – a sinking feeling told him the answer was a lot - and a whole eternity ahead of him the ache-turned-agony quickly became overwhelming.

That was how he found himself curled up on the ground, hugging his chest, trailing his claws over every rib that poked through his dress shirt – his hands must've been shaking incredibly hard because he kept clawing himself – and squeezing his eyes shut tighter in hopes of sleeping his way through this new hell. He didn't care if he woke up screaming with his heart pounding out of his chest like every other time he'd tried to rest, he just needed any reprieve from the hollow, jagged feeling that had taken up residence in his gut.

Of course, when he'd wish to be unconscious his body would refuse!

“Ha… i-if Husker were here…” His teeth grit together at the thought of his grumpy companion. The one-sided conversations that would turn into late-night discussions when neither felt much like sleeping. The begrudging way Husk had finally gotten used to Alastor's constantly fluctuating touchy moments. “I could certainly use one of his strongest drinks…!” The deer demon’s smile went shaky, his eyes snapping open and flitting about, while he swallowed the bile that threatened to rise out of his dry throat.

With the nausea periodically threatening to make him purge his body of what little energy it had left and his head threatening to crack open with the building pressure of a headache he’d gotten hours – days, weeks, months? – ago, it was a wonder he didn’t go completely insane. He wasn’t crazy. He may be hopeless, hurting, admittedly terrified, but he was not broken. And if he talked to himself, well, it was only to fill the silence.

“My… Shadow would even make interesting company at this point,” he quipped, tired of his own thoughts chasing themselves round and round pointlessly. “It would likely… cackle at my misfortune but who could blame it?” He let out a sharp laugh. “My inky companion’s company could possibly account for entertainment if I were bored enough…” By Lucifer he was bored enough. There was nothing to do but think until his incapacitated body finished working its way from the constant pain, to a blissful numbness. It was certainly taking its time but Alastor just laughed harder at that because he had all of it in the world to wait! Now he just had to keep his thoughts safely away from his friend- coworkers and acquaintances…

…Curse it all.

A groan escaped at the familiar lonesome feeling that gripped his chest in a vice, and his jaw snapped shut in frustration at his own traitorous train of thought. Alastor forced his teeth to unclench, his red eyes trailing blearily down to look away from the black on black on black- and down to the pathetic quivering mess he’d become. Thinking of them was always a bad idea and, try as he might, he found that he couldn’t stop himself from shaking or his eyes from burning or the little hitches in his breath from becoming more apparent the longer he tried to control them. These little… “episodes” would only get more frequent as he thought of his- his friends, not just coworkers, not just acquaintances- and they just kept getting worse.

What was he supposed to do when the dread crept up because of his messed up internal clock and the thoughts of his friends that forced their way to the forefront of his mind? Because surely it couldn’t have been weeks or months that had passed- they wouldn’t have forgotten about him… right?

A whimper wrenched itself from Alastor’s throat, and his mouth snapped shut so fast he tasted iron. Charlie would be concerned, he realized as he removed his teeth from his healing tongue. With eyes nearly turning to radio dials and his claws sharpening at the tangy blood pooling in his mouth, the deer demon hurriedly swallowed, unable to disregard the coppery smell invading the otherwise senseless air and making his heart pound harder. His claws clutched at his already disheveled shirt while he struggled to get his breathing under control.

There wasn’t food. It was his own blood. He was being ridiculous. He absolutely would not turn here, not now, not ever. Think of something else. He was in control; he would not let the Wendigo roam free here and waste even more energy.

…He was sure Angel would have some sexual remark for this situation.

Alastor let out a choked laugh at the absurdity of the evasive thought, even as twin tracks of tears rolled down his face. He didn’t bother with wiping them away. This was something different to think about, and yet, it was just barely better. He couldn’t believe he’d ever grown fond of the porn star considering what he did for a living. The thought still made his face burn and his wavering smile twist into a grimace. Despite the discomfort, Alastor had grown to appreciate their companionship, and Angel had proven himself to be tough and loyal colleague more than once.

The little moth demon however… Vaggie would take pleasure in his suffering, Alastor was sure. It didn’t matter that the last expression Alastor had seen on her face had been horror as he fell, the gunshot still ringing loudly in his head. Ears flicking lower, he decided not to pursue that train of thought.

Dear Husker certainly wouldn’t care! Alastor could and would ignore the memory of absolute fury in the chimera’s eyes as a boot pressed into Alastor’s chest – right on the bullet hole! – setting fire to his lungs and sending blood bubbling up his throat. It didn’t mean a thing!

Now, Niffty… Alastor’s smile wavered, shrinking as small as its been in a while. He knew the little darling cared. He couldn’t even pretend otherwise; Especially not after she’d been screaming and crying the loudest. He remembered through blurry vision and smoky, blood clogged air that tears had been streaming down her face, all the while she screeched and clawed to get away from Husk who’d held her back. She would only have gotten herself hurt, and so Alastor felt grateful to the cat for stopping her.

Charlie… she was crying as well, but she also had fire in her eyes and horns bursting from her skull. She and Angel Dust – Alastor had never seen the porn star look so serious – had immediately moved to help him, hellfire wreathed around the princess like a halo and Angel brandishing six more guns than he’d held a second ago.

Of course, it hadn’t made a difference in the end. Alastor had still looked up, directly into the grinning screen of Vox, and saw nothing but triumph in his rival’s expression. The overlord had probably said something snarky, but Alastor couldn’t hear over the roaring in his ears. Instead he offered his widest grin and spit a glob of red at the other’s shoe.

A grimace graced the TV demon’s face, and the pressure doubled on Alastor’s chest, forcing out a pained gurgle as liquid filled his lungs – his lungs, his chest, parts of him that weren’t healing, they were burning, because of course Vox would have a holy weapon, and Alastor was an idiot for getting distracted and actually caring about the hotel and the people in it-

One hand clung to Vox’s leg while the other clawed at the ground for his microphone – where was it – or for any dregs of magic to finish this fight the way it was supposed to end, but there. was. nothing.

He tilted his head back and the others appeared upside down in his vision for a brief moment. He widened his grin in what he hoped was a reassuring manner – though from the few terrified expressions that remained, he didn’t think it worked very well.

Angel Dust unleashed clip after clip of bullets into the surrounding demons, struggling to get to the TV overlord and put a bullet through his screen, to do something, anything, but Alastor didn’t get to dwell on the lack of progress for long.

Cold steel brushed his hair aside, pressing against the red x on his forehead, and the deer demon’s eyes jerked forward again to stare down the barrel of the holy gun. If his heart was pounding faster at the idea of dying in a way similar to his human self, he was glad Vox was too busy gloating to notice. If he listened hard enough, Alastor worried he might even hear dogs baying in the distance.

“Well,” Vox sneered, voice resonating louder than the ringing in Alastor’s skull, “it’s really no surprise that things turned out this way. I think we both knew I’d win in the end. You’re obsolete; old news.” His sneer curled up into a wider grin as he pulled the hammer back with a click. Alastor heard screams of protest. “You always did manage to get on my nerves, even before you decided you were too good for me.” Liar. “Anyways… hope you enjoy your time in the Void, Al!” Alastor watched his finger tighten on the trigger, unable to move, until his world exploded in deafening noise, blinding white light, and unimaginable pain. Then everything stopped.

Darkness.

Silence.

Pain where it wasn’t supposed to be.

His chest, he knew, would feel like it was on fire, but he didn’t think his arms were supposed to burn or his stomach feel like it was caving in or his heart feel like it was exploding out of his ribcage. Why did he have to die in the most violent ways? He was dying, wasn’t he? That’s what this had to be- he was dying all over again- because his lungs weren’t filled with liquid, but he couldn’t breathe, his head wasn’t bleeding from a bullet wound and yet his skull was filled with cotton, and his face was wet with something that was salty, that wasn’t sticky like blood.

Alastor’s eyes were wide open, but he couldn’t see anything, why couldn’t he see, what was wrong with him- his feverish gaze dragged itself down and hardly registered the crimson on crimson, the crimson on black, the blood dotting the ground around him, staining the void with brief flashes of color. His nose crinkled at the intense smell of iron pervading the air. His ears flattened against his head in an attempt to rid himself of the sound of nothing, then of ragged gasps that it took too long to realize were coming from him.

A sharp twinge in his arm directed his disjointed attention back down, where he paled at the sight of his claws buried deep in the limbs. Punctures and gashes littered the entirety of his arms, likely the source of the crimson pooling beneath his trembling frame, and his skin was utterly ravaged at the unintended self-abuse. He yanked his claws out, – he didn’t whimper – and fixed them around his stomach. He still couldn’t breathe.

He tried to take a deeper breath, but his lungs weren’t taking in air right.

Force the air out. He couldn’t die again, could he?

Take it in. He was already dead; he couldn’t die again.

O-out. He wouldn’t die, but his chest hurt so much.

I-In- in. He needed to calm down.

O-Out. He would be fine, he just needed to calm down.

In. All he had to do was release the vice-like grip he had on himself.

Out. Slowly, bit by bit, his muscles untensed.

In. His spine uncurled; his arms relaxed.

Like a wire snapping the tension fled Alastor’s body, letting him go limp. He could’ve cried at the deep breath that forced sweet sweet air into his lungs. He lay there for an undetermined amount of time, just breathing until the ache in his chest subsided to a tolerable level, praying he didn’t suddenly forget how to breathe again. He hated feeling like a prisoner to his own body whenever this happened, and he still had no Lucifer-forsaken idea what ‘this’ even was.

The deer demon didn’t get to dwell on his racing thoughts long as exhaustion slammed back into him, pressing him further into the ground and turning his limbs to iron. He blinked half-lidded eyes, struggling to keep them open. Finally loosening the death grip on his arms, his claws fell limp to the ground while he curled up tighter.

Okay. Perhaps lying wasn’t the best thing to do to himself, considering his… less than ample mental state. Despite the fact that there was no one to be confident for, he didn’t let his smile falter, keeping it determinedly in place if not as small as it could be.

Maybe he was ready to concede that the others at the hotel had cared about him entirely. Had really cared, unlike his father who he hope would have a worse existence in Hell than him, or Vox who had happily put a knife in his back more than once. Letting his eyes finally slide shut, ignoring the tears streaming down his face, Alastor ran his tongue over his lips to taste the salt and winced even at that. Not being able to eat was really beginning to affect his tolerance for anything that had the slightest taste. He was from Louisiana, where everything had flavor and spice and now, he wouldn’t ever be able to enjoy that again.

Alastor found himself crying more and more frequently, and he hated it, but there wasn’t anything he could do about these ridiculous, unwanted emotions. He couldn’t stop his heart from aching when thoughts of Charlie’s beaming acceptance forced their way into his mind. Thoughts of Vaggie’s fiery protectiveness, Husk’s begrudging companionship, Niffty’s utter adoration, Angel’s fierce loyalty. What was the point of this? Was he supposed to feel bad for the things he’d done? Was he supposed to repent for his sins here?

It isn’t fair, he thought, even as another sob burst unbidden from between his clenched teeth. Even if Alastor was sorry, he couldn’t do a thing about it. His hands shifted to grab at his ears and pulled until the ache travelled into his skull. He was just so tired. So hungry. So weak.

How pathetic was he, falling apart at the slightest hint of loneliness? At the ravenous feeling tearing him apart? At one point would’ve argued that he was better than this, but the last few moments made it clear that he wasn’t. His skin was too tight, pulled taut over his ribs, over his protruding spine. Every bone poked out and he could feel it. Even his shirt was beginning to hang over his already lanky frame. It was nothing compared to the cavern in his stomach or the throbbing in his heart, but he wouldn’t be enjoying the rest of his eternity alone.

The only relief to be had was that Alastor might be drained enough to sleep instead of thinking until his head hurt more than it already did. With a quieter huff he scrubbed away the offending tears and brought his hands back down to curl against his chest. His coat would have made him more comfortable, but he’d lost it… quite a while ago.

It didn’t matter, he hummed, forcing his breaths to even out and pushing the pain to the back of his mind. Sleep wouldn’t be better, exactly – he always woke up looking like a deer in the headlights – but he might at least have a clearer head.

The static within him finally settled to a softer, soothing white noise. Alastor let a sigh of relief escape as his thoughts quieted with it, and he was unconscious in a matter of seconds.

When Alastor awoke, it wasn’t sudden or with a humiliating cry threatening to break free. His mind was sluggish, and his limbs were slow to respond so he could assume his sleep had been interrupted, but that was ridiculous considering there was nothing here to interrupt it! He shifted to sit up, a twinge from his arms jolting him into a more wakeful state. Letting out a soft groan at the more insistent ache from his chest, he sat upright, still feeling exceptionally confused.

“What in the nine circles,” he grumbled, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Alastor had been sure he was exhausted enough to sleep without disruptions for once in his time in the Void, so what could possibly have woken him up?

He knew he was more sensitive and aware of his surroundings, but why would something different be happening now? Claws shifted to grip at his arms as his ears perked and swiveled, though he wasn’t expecting to hear anything besides the familiar silence that staled the air-

“Alastor?!”

His whole body jerked, ears flattening against his head as he scrambled to turn around. Alastor’s breathing stuttered. It felt like a punch knocked the air from his lungs when he turned around and locked eyes with the last demon he’d expected to see.

“…what happened to you…?”

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cilldaracailin · 5 years ago

Text

Under Pressure

This is the last chapter of Under Pressure... But I do have a sequel which I will start posting too. :)

This story can also be found on AO3 here: http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/23570293/chapters/56548318

“Sadly enough, the most painful goodbyes are the ones that are left unsaid and never explained.”

It was the beeping sound that fully woke him up. Before that he had been in and out of a hazy sleep but now, he could feel his eyes opening, blinking as they adjusted to the lights above his head, a head that was clear and not woozy, the oxygen that was flowing into his nose helping with that. Opening his eyes fully, he was able to take in his surroundings and Taron could see he was tucked into a hospital bed.

He took a moment to move his fingers and his toes, then his legs and his arms, almost melting into the soft mattress under his body, as the movement felt free and painless. His stomach had settled and that agony he had been cursed with was gone and Taron could cry with the relief.

“Hey Taron.” He looked to his left to see the nurse who had been beside him earlier as the doctor examined him, a clipboard in her hands. “How are you feeling?” She asked.

Taron had to try and answer the question twice, as the first time, his throat was dry and he had to swallow to ease the scratchy feeling before he could find his voice. “Not too bad.”

“How’s the pain? Anything hurt?” Taron shook his head, not trusting his voice to speak again. “Let me get you some water.” Ruth opened the bottle of water she had left ready for Taron for when he woke up, and poured some into a glass. “Can you hold it?” She asked handing it to him.

Taron took the glass from the nurse in his right hand, only then noticing the heart monitor on his finger and the nurse had to help him hold the glass until he got a good grip of it. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a small sip and then a bigger drink, enjoying the refreshment of the water. He gave the glass back to the nurse who left it on the table beside the bed.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“I am going to go and get Doctor Hart Taron. He asked me to go and get him when you woke up.”

“What time is it?” Asked Taron feeling quite disorientated.

“It is just after nine.”

“Nine am?”

“No nine pm.”

Taron was taken aback by the time. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About fourteen hours. I am going to get Doctor Hart now. He just wants to talk to you about your tests results.”

Taron watched the nurse leave the room and lay back on the pillow behind his head, once again appreciating how his body felt free from any pain. Having been crippled with twinges and aches earlier, in tears as he dealt with spasm after spasm, being able to move his arm now without the fear of a cramp coming on was a new guilty pleasure for him. He looked down to his left arm and saw the IV line was still there so he gathered the reason for his sudden comfort was from a serious amount of pain killers that were being pumped into his body through the IV line. Thinking about comfort, quickly turned Taron’s thoughts to what had become his comfort before the pain killers were introduced to his body and that was Robyn. He was very much looking forward to getting to see her so he could properly thank her for how she had looked after him especially now that he could think clearly and be able to construct an understandable sentence.

The door to the room opened again and Taron lifted his head to see the nurse and the doctor walk back in.

“Taron, it is very good to see you awake. How are you feeling?” Doctor Hart walked up beside the bed.

“I’m ok actually.”

“And how is the pain? Are you feeling anything?”

“None.”

“I am afraid I have lulled you into a false sense of pain free security Taron. I have made sure that you have been given a lot of pain relief because when you came into the hospital you were in a considerable amount of discomfort but I will be decreasing it gradually as the days go on. Not today but as your body starts to heal, we will be lowering the dosage. Don’t look so concerned. I have to do it so I can gage how your injuries are, not because I am an evil doctor.” He could immediately see that panic he had seen before in his patient’s eyes start to relight. “Please be assured Taron, you will not be laying here in pain but as the days go on, I do have to re-examine you, so to get an accurate analysis, I need you to be able to feel something but we’re not going to worry about that right now.” Doctor Hart sat on the chair beside the bed. “I am going to make the rest of this quick. I am very pleased with all of your results Taron. Everything has come back clear. I have stitched your arm and added some steri-strips to your head, both wounds will heal very well. You have some badly bruised ribs which you will feel for a few weeks and your chest is going to feel tender too because of the pressure from the compressions Robyn gave you during CPR. No broken bones and a very mild concussion. I wasn’t lying to you in the CT room when I said you were very lucky.” As Doctor Hart spoke, he was impressed to see Taron keep eye contact with him the entire time, listening closely as he spoke. “It will be a few weeks of rest and recovery. Richard was telling me that you are an actor and in the middle of filming a particularly stunt heavy movie.” Taron nodded. “I am afraid that is out of the question Taron. You have to make sure your body heals fully before you even think about going back to work like that. If you don’t, you can do more serious damage that may not be reparable. When you leave the hospital, you will have to take it easy and just relax and binge watch some Netflix.”

“When do you think I can leave the hospital?” Asked Taron trying to process all of the information he was being given and wondering how his director was going to take the news that he wouldn’t be back on set ready to film any time soon.

“If you listen to the nurses and continue to sleep and rest in here, by the end of the week I would be happy to discharge you. In a day or two, the nurses will help to build your strength back up by small walks around the ward too. Once you are discharged, I will make sure to prescribe you with some painkillers and an appointment to have those stitches out.”

Taron nodded. “Thanks doctor.” Considering how he had felt coming into the hospital, he was surprised to hear that he wasn’t as beat up as he thought he was.

“No problem. Ruth is going to keep an eye on you so if you need anything you can ask her. Take some time to breathe and sleep, definitely sleep and if you want to ask me anything about your results or the CT scan, Ruth can come and find me and I will come back but for the time being I just want you to take it very easy. You may have escaped some serious injuries but you are still hurt so don’t try and jump back into your daily life too quickly.” Doctor Hart and stood up and turned to Ruth and the two walked towards the door. “I shall leave him with you then. I know his friend is outside and will want to see him but after that, lets just top up that medicine as before.”

Even though Doctor Hart was pleased with Taron, the young man still looked physically exhausted and he really wanted his patient to sleep comfortably so he had asked Ruth so give Taron some more medicine to help him rest peacefully with no interruptions.

“Richard can visit for about half an hour Ruth and then I really want Taron resting. He has been through a lot and needs to recuperate plus visiting hours were over two hours ago but I don’t think Richard has actually left the hospital since he came in. I will go and get him now.”

Taron let his head fall back on the pillow. There was so much going through his mind at the moment but he pushed his busy thoughts to the side, feeling eager to see Richard and Robyn again, the trio having made a bond over something so surreal and he really could do some of that comfort that only Robyn knew how to give, calming his chaotic mind.

He was aware of Ruth moving around his bed, checking IV lines and taking notes on his chart but soon the door opened and he looked up to see Richard come into the room and close the door behind him. Taron felt his face frown when the door didn’t open again and it was just Richard walking towards him.

“Hey mate, it is good to see you awake.” Said Richard as he took the seat the doctor had just been in.

“I will leave you guys to catch up. Richard, you have thirty minutes. That is all. Taron needs to rest and visiting hours are over.”

“I know. Doctor Hart has already explained it to me.”

“I will be back in thirty.”

Once the door had closed Taron looked to Richard. “Where is Robyn?” He asked. “Isn’t she with you?” Richard couldn’t look at his friend and Taron immediately knew something wasn’t right and he tried to sit up in the bed but had to stop when his left arm protested with the IV. “Richard, where is Robyn?”

“We both came to see you much earlier this morning, around seven and Doctor Hart told us how you were and said we could sit with you for a while before we had to go. We had just sat down when my phone rang and it was my mum. I left the room to answer it, leaving Robyn here to sit with you and when I came back, she was gone and this was left on your pillow.”

Richard pulled a crumpled note from his pocket and gave it to Taron.

“I’m sorry Taron.”

Taron took the paper from his friend and opened it, looking at handwriting he didn’t recognise at all and started to read the words on the page.

‘Hey Taron,

I know this letter is not the way I wanted us to part but sometimes, hard decisions have to made and this is one of the hardest I have ever had to make.

Please believe me, I would not have left in this way, if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that you were going to make a full recovery and after speaking with Doctor Hart, I know you are going to be just fine, that you are in the best care possible and Richard is here with you too.

And knowing that has made this choice easier for me which I know is selfish on my part considering I got to say good bye and you didn’t but I have to go back home. I have my own responsibilities that I need to get back to. I need to get back to my reality and you to yours.

I am sorry we won’t get to have that karaoke battle; I was really looking forward to that. Elton vs Freddie – It would have been a good one,

I have spoken to your mam twice by the time you will have gotten this letter and she knows the extent of what has happened but not all the facts – Richard can fill you in on the remaining details because I would hope by now Richard has also spoken to your mam but I have eased her worries and made sure she knows that you will be ok with lots of rest. She can’t wait to hear your voice. Your sisters too.

Thank you for trusting in me in the 7/11. I am sure that was not an easy thing to do – letting a stranger take your actual life into their hands.

I wish you nothing but the best for whatever life brings you.

Thank you for being a ‘Rocketman’.

Robyn xx’

Taron dropped the letter onto the bed and looked to Richard with tears in his eyes. “She went home.” A single tear rolled down his cheek that he didn’t bother to wipe away. “She went home.” He repeated laying back on the pillow, another tear rolling down his cheek. He closed his eyes and let a long breathe leave his lips, a miserable upsetting feeling settling in him as he had to come to terms with the fact that Robyn was not coming through the door and all he had was a letter from her. A letter was not the comfort he needed right now, he needed so much more but he realised quickly he was not going to get it and turning his face away from Richard, he buried the side of his face into the pillow.

“I am really sorry Taron.” Repeated Richard seeing how the letter from Robyn was affecting his friend.

Richard got his own shock when he came back to Taron’s room that morning to see that Robyn was nowhere to be found. At first, he had thought she might have gone to the bathroom but then he saw two letters on Taron’s pillow, one with his name and one with Taron’s name, Richard knew she hadn’t just left to go the bathroom.

He opened his letter to read something similar to what she had wrote to Taron, explaining that she had to go home and asking him to ring Taron’s mam, thanking him for helping to look after Taron but there was no phone number, no address and not even a surname on the letter. Richard was ushered out of Taron’s room an hour later and he had moved back to the waiting room and stayed there until Doctor Hart walked in, wanting to make it clear to Richard that he couldn’t stay in the hospital all day but once he had heard that Robyn had left, he allowed Richard to wait to talk to Taron when he woke up. Robyn’s instructions in Richards letter were very clear, once Taron had woken up, he had to give the letter to Taron himself.

Now that Richard had done so, it was desperately hard to watch Taron reaction to Robyn’s unexpected departure. He knew from speaking with Robyn in the 7/11 that she was due back on work at seven thirty on Monday morning but really didn’t think she was actually going to get her flight back home, considering their grim night together but she had left without saying a face to face goodbye to either of them.

Once again, the only sounds that filled the hospital room were the beeping coming from the machine beside Richard and an odd sniffle from Taron but those sniffles slowly faded and Taron drifted off to sleep again, mostly with the help of the medicine he had been given by Ruth before Richard had walked in. Taron couldn’t quite understand the hurt he was feeling and this wasn’t a physically hurt hut rather a gut wrenching one and it was a drug induced sleep that helped to take the sadness he was feeling away. He was never going to get the chance to repay Robyn for what she had done, he was more than likely never going to see the woman who had saved his life again.

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Richard Madden #Loss #Sadness #Lonely #Friendship #Hospitals #Angst

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axelsagewrites · 5 years ago

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Shadowhunter Preference - Period Part 1

Ship(s): Jace x reader, Clary x reader, Alec x reader, Magnus x reader, Simon x reader

Request: nope

Warnings: blood, periods etc (if you didn't guess)

I feel like this is obviously but this is directed to people who get periods. If their are any guy specific things you want me to write about you can always message me but this one is for the vagina owners.

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

Jace

"Kill me, kill me, kill me," I repeated over and over again into my pillow.

"Hey babe, you okay?" Jace said from the door.

I groaned and rolled onto my back, clutching my stomach, "I'm dying!"

"No, you're not," Jace rolls his eyes.

"Tell that to my uterus," I whined as I rolled onto my side.

Jace walked over to the bed, slowly, as if I might bite if he made too many sudden movements. He sat on the bed next to me, running his hands through my hair, "You'll get through it," I glare at him. "You know Izzy told me that exercising helps with cramps," my mouth fell open, "I could help, and you could give that a try?" Jace looked at me, probably expecting an answer, and I rolled over, "C'mon. It can't hurt,"

I looked over my shoulder, "Fuck off,"

Somehow, he convinced me to get out of bed. We stood in the living room, him in his work out gear and me with pj's on. "Okay let's warm up with some jumping jacks," He said before starting. I just watched him, "You do it," He said, still jumping.

"I am," I glared, "Can't you see?" I said, standing still.

Jace stopped with a sigh, "I'm just trying to help,"

"I know," I sighed before flopping onto the couch, "but I'm not Izzy. I like chocolate and crappy movies,"

"That I can do,"

Clary

Clary and I were sat cuddling on the couch when my phone dinged. I reached over and grabbed it but groaned. Clary hummed, asking what's up, "My periods due tomorrow," I love clue but it's not a nice reminder.

"Ew," Clary said, grabbing another handful of popcorn.

Not wanting to ruin my bedsheets, I put on a panty liner before I went to sleep. The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. When I looked at the alarm clock, I realised it was actually afternoon. Thank the angel it was a weekend.

Clambering out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom. Benefits of living with your girlfriend, being able to have all your period stuff sitting out in a basket with no one whining about it.

After I went into the living room and couldn't help but smile. Clary was setting up the coffee table and grinned when she saw me. She grabbed my hand and led me over, "Sit," I did as I was told.

"What's all this for?"

She was quiet for a second, "I woke up early and got bored,"

"I'm not complaining,"

Clary smiled as she pointed things out, "Aspirin, hot water bottle, the chocolate you like, pancakes, red velvet cake," I rolled my eyes, "and flowers!" She handed me a small bouquet, "red roses of course,"

"This is some Pinterest level support," I chuckled.

"What can I say? I'm just the best girlfriend," Clary sat down, grabbing herself a pancake.

"Can't argue with that," I said reaching for the chocolate.

"Don't you want breakfast first?" she asked. I shrugged, "You better do something like this for me next week,"

"We'll see,"

Alec

Alec and I had moved in a couple weeks ago and were finally settled. Because we'd never lived together the whole period thing had never really come up. I wasn't dramatic about it since it was pretty normal for me by now. Plus, I was one of the lucky few who rarely got cramps.

Before bed, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and all that jazz when I noticed the unfortunate stain. "Ah shit," I groaned. Although it wasn't that bad for me, I didn't enjoy it. I sorted myself out then went back to the bedroom.

"What took you so long?" Alec asked. He was already in bed and I climbed in beside him, "thought you got lost,"

"Ha so funny," I deadpanned as I snuggled into his chest. "I'm female. Things happen," He didn't respond so I assumed he got the message. The next morning was pretty normal and we both get ready for work.

I got home from work groggy and tired. I flopped down onto the couch and delved into some pretty sappy shows. As I'm curled up on the couch Alec came in, "Hey," I said, not looking away from the screen.

"Hey," He kissed the top of my head before joining me on the couch, "I got you something,"

"OH presents," I grinned, now paying attention.

"I don't know if you'll like these," he grinned as he pulled things out the bag, "I don't know what you use but I kinda guessed," Alec had got a small range of pads and tampons "I can go get more if you don't like them. Then I've got dark chocolate, Tylenol and aspirin, and a couple different types of tea,"

I couldn't help but chuckle, "You really go all, out don't you?" I said as I picked up a couple things, "I mean thanks but why?"

"As you said, you're female. I thought they'd help with cramps and all that" he seemed a little confused.

"I don't get cramps," I couldn't help but laugh a little. His face screwed up, "I mean sometimes I do but I don't normally go all out like this,"

"Sorry," he said, "I'm just used to Izzy sending me out for this and- "he started to ramble.

"I'm not mad," I said, doing my best not to laugh, "It's sweet, honestly. Thank you, Alec," A smile finally came back on his face, "If you really do want to help though...maybe a cuddle?"

The smile was fully back now, and it was contagious, "Budge up. You don't need to ask me twice,"

Magnus

"Magnus," I whined from the couch. He was at his desk working on something 'important'. He hummed in response, "Can you magic away periods?"

"Like I say every month, no I can't," he said. "Is it's bad right now?" He paused.

"It's only my uterine lining shedding and falling out my body in agony. I'm just peachy," I rolled my eyes.

"No need to be catty,"

"Sorry," I mutter. He puts down his work and walks over to me, curled up like a catch, "You can finish your work. I'll be fine," I said, feeling bad for disturbing him.

"It's okay. Cramps?" he asked. I groaned in response. Magnus sat down next to me, placing his hands on my stomach, "this might tingle," he said. He did something that made a few blue sparks and I felt instant relief. "Better?"

"You really are magic," I sighed in relief.

Magnus stopped, "I can't make them go away, but I can help when you're in pain. It's probably not good to use magic all the time though. How's your back?" He asked.

Apparently, some women get back pain as a part of their period and PMS. I was one of those women, "Have you ever been on a middle eval stretcher but mid-way through they decide to twist your legs but keep your hands still till your literally a massive knot?"

"So descriptive," Magnus rolled his eyes, "Lucky for you I had an idea," He snapped his fingers and a massage table appeared where our coffee table once was.

My eyes went back and forth from the table and Magnus, "Why don't I trust this?"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm centuries old, do you not think I learned how to massage people?"

I kind of just stared at him for a moment, "I don't know what to think anymore." Magnus looked like he was about to roll his eyes, so I quickly added, "Who knows? It can't get any worse,"

Turns out Magnus knows what he's doing. It still hurt but now I knew what he could do I knew he'd be doing it again.

Simon

I love Simon, I really do, but he can be a bit awkward. I'd been caught out without any products, so I figured the logical thing to do was asked Simon to pick some up on his way over. I was wrong.

Simon rushed in the door looking through a bag with red checks, "I don't know if I got the right ones, but some old lady was staring at me, so I had to get out of there. Also, why are there wings? What's the difference? Underwear doesn't fly." He rambled on and on.

I held back a laugh, "Are you okay?" I said.

"Yeah I'm fine completely yeah," he said in one breath. He handed me the bag, "The cashier looked so confused when I went up. Like he'd never seen a man buy his girlfriend their...necessities. He was scared to touch them,"

"Some people are idiots," I said as I looked through the bag. I looked up at him and he looked concerned, "You did good. You got the right stuff,"

"Oh, thank god," He said, flopping down onto the couch, "Is there anything else you need? Hot water bottle? Ice? Jumper?"

"I'm fine Simon," I said.

"Are you sure because I can- "

"I'm fine," I snapped. He shut up quickly and I couldn't help but feel I kicked a puppy. "I'm sorry. Your amazing but I'm okay. Let's just watch a movie and eat some takeaway,"

Simons eyebrows screwed up before he realised, "I forgot to pick up the takeaway!"

"I noticed,"

"I'm so sorry. I'll go right now and- "

"I could always just phone it," I suggested as he was putting his shoes on.

"No, I will. I said I will so I'm going," He made his way to the door, "be back soon," He said. "Love you,"

"Love you too," I said. Simon grinned but before he shut the door I shouted "Wallet!"

"Sorry!" He ran back in and grabbed it, "Be back soon,"

"Thank you!!" The smile didn't leave my face once he left. he was awkward but he tried, and I love him for that.

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hsmuffintop · 5 years ago

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hello, everyone! I mentioned a few days ago that I wanted to give in to peer pressure and write something for Halloween, so here we are! thank you so much to the anon who sent me a message with suggestions as to what to write, my good friend @wherekatewritesthings for giving me more suggestions, and all of the Halloween movies I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m no good at summaries, so let’s just get right to it, shall we?

Now it’s Emmy’s turn to be confused. She just stares at him for what seems like forever.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what?”

“What I mean is, you can’t live here. I live here. And I’ve never seen you around. The house isn’t that big. It’s impossible that we’ve both been living here for two weeks without having seen each other.” Now the wheels start turning in her brain. She’d heard of this before, read about it in books as a child and has seen it in so many of her favorite movies, but she never thought...

“Harry,” she asks, hoping that her hunch is right but also wrong at the same time, wanting to know the answer so badly but not wanting to know it at all, “what year is it?”

Harry looks at Emmy like she’s grown another head. “1965?”

The look on her face lets him know he’s terribly wrong.

----

Emmy first meets Harry when she’s seventeen, down by the lake on the edge of the plot of land her family has lived on for hundreds of years. It’s mid-July, still hot even with the sun down, so she makes her way down the old beaten path that multiple generations before her had walked in their times, just to dip her feet into the cool water of the lake. She gets to her favorite spot, the downed tree from over fifty years ago that her grandfather chopped down only because he needed somewhere to sit while he fished, and sits in the same spot he did, a spot on the trunk worn from years of the same people who walked the path sitting in the same spots every time they came down.

She sits in the quiet, listens to the sounds of the night in the woods around her, then feels something come up behind her.

She’s not alone.

She turns quickly, trying to not show any fear, and is met with the stomach of a boy. She looks up at his face, doesn’t recognize him from town, and wonders how the hell he got on this property when he’s obviously not from around here.

“Who are you?” she asks, standing up and turning to face him. “How did you get here? What do you want?”

The boy looks confused, almost shocked really, just as much as she is to find somebody sitting in his favorite spot by the lake.

“My name is Harry?” he tells her, his statement turning up at the end in his confusion, like he’s not even sure that is his name.

“Okay,” she says, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. “How did you get here?”

He looks confused again. “I live here?”

“What’s with all the questions? Are you lying to me? Trying to take advantage because I’m a young girl who doesn’t know any better? Well I’ll tell you what, mister, I can scream really loud and I know how to fight so don’t try anything or you’ll be sorry!”

Harry doesn’t know what is happening. He’d just walked down from the house to sit by the lake on the tree his cousin chopped down a couple weeks ago only because he needed somewhere to sit while he fished. He’s never seen this girl before, and he would be asking her the same questions she is to him, but she’s very loud and he’s a little frightened by what she might do.

“No,” he says, holding his hands up in front of himself, hoping that will calm this girl down. “I do live here. Well, I do now. I haven’t always. My parents made me come here for the summer so they can travel. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He pauses, thinking. “Maybe that’s why I don’t look familiar to you? You’re not the first person to threaten to fight me because I looked like a stranger.”

Now it’s Emmy’s turn to be confused. She just stares at him for what seems like forever.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what?”

“Harry,” she asks, hoping that her hunch is right but also wrong at the same time, wanting to know the answer so badly but not wanting to know it at all, “what year is it?”

Harry looks at Emmy like she’s grown another head. “1965?”

The look on her face lets him know he’s terribly wrong.

“Oh,” Emmy says, turning away from Harry and sitting back down to face the lake. She’d thought he was dressed funny, his clothes a little too out of date to be trendy, but people out here don’t dress like people in the city. She figured he was just trying to make a statement. She feels more than sees Harry sit down next to her, the tree trunk not shifting at all with his weight.

“Why did you ask me that?” he asks, his voice a little shaky and his face the picture of fright when he looks over at her. “Why...what year is it?”

Emmy doesn’t know what to do. Should she tell him? He obviously doesn’t know, he thinks it’s over fifty years ago...how can she be talking to him right now? Is there some kind of time rift somewhere in the woods that makes it possible to travel through time? Or...the tree didn’t move when he sat beside her. She can’t feel any heat coming off of him even though it’s almost 90 degrees out here, even with the breeze coming off the lake.

She gets her answer when a beam of moonlight hits Harry just right as a cloud moves out of the way. There’s something about his skin, almost iridescent as the light shines down on him...no, shines through him, almost completely uninterrupted as it falls onto the ground behind him. The confirmation of her original thought hits her like a bus, and then it all clicks in to place.

He’s a ghost.

She’s talking to a ghost.

“Harry,” Emmy starts, trying to break the news to him easily that it’s over fifty years in the future and oh also by the way you’re dead and a ghost sorry about that, but her brain can’t figure out exactly how to tell him something like that. So her feet decide for her, gesturing for Harry to follow as she makes her way up the old path again, this time taking a less-worn but still well-traveled fork off to the right to the family graveyard. Most people think it’s weird that her family has a graveyard in their back yard, but it started in the 1800′s and, since the property is outside the city limits and they aren’t technically breaking any laws by having it, they still use it for the older members of the family who pass on. Emmy’s grandfather will probably be the last to be buried here, the oldest living member of the family for now, as she knows all of her aunts and uncles have made arrangements with funeral homes and cemeteries in the city.

“Why did you bring me here?” Harry asks, getting more confused by the minute as they walk through the graveyard and there are...more graves than there were when he was up here a couple days ago. And some of these dates...

“Harry, my name is Emmy. Short for Emmaline.”

Harry looks up at her with wide eyes, knowing that name. Emmaline. His cousin’s girl.

“That’s Rob’s girlfriend...how...what...” He sighs, gathering his thoughts. “You’re not making any sense.”

Emmy moves back from where she’d been standing in front of two graves. One has his name on it, his birth date correct, and his death date...

His death date.

Emmy watches as it all comes together in Harry’s head. She doesn’t know if he’s gone through this before, if he’s one of those ghosts that forgets their deaths and pops back up only to be reminded again somehow, but the agony on his face as he remembers everything that happened tells her that he’s never done this before.

“Emmaline was granddad’s girlfriend, you’re right,” Emmy starts quietly, softly to perhaps make it easier on Harry, but it’s all in vain. Nothing will make this easier. “They were together for a long time, then you moved in for the summer. Emmaline took a liking to you, and she thought that she could keep it a secret, how she would sneak into your room at night. She could, and you did for a while, but one day she messed up. She got up to go to your room after granddad was asleep, like always, but this time, he was faking it. He followed her as she snuck into your room, watched as she snuggled up next to you, watched as you woke up to her soft touch and gave her a kiss in greeting.”

He remembers that. He remembers it all. He also remembers what happened next, the memories coming back in vivid detail almost in perfect time with how Emmy is telling them.

“He got mad. His girl, his one true love, was cheating on him. With his cousin, no less! So he went back to bed, still pretending to be asleep as Emmaline crawled back into bed with him a few hours later, smelling of your cologne.”

Emmy braces herself for the next part, knowing how bad it’s going to hurt Harry to remember.

“He came up with a plan. You were supposed to leave in September to go back to living with your parents. The night before you were set to leave, granddad did something to your car. Nobody will ever tell me what, but it was just supposed to scare you.” She shakes her head, pushing a few stray hairs away, stuck to her forehead with sweat. “He didn’t count on whatever he did going wrong. He also didn’t count on Emmaline sneaking into the car with you, to stow away and start a new life with you in the city.” Emmy feels tears starting to fall down her cheeks, and as she looks over at Harry, she can see his face is contorted in such a way that if he could cry, he would be.

“The car...it blew up, I think. Nobody will talk about it, not in any detail anyway. I got curious one day, went into the city to look through the archives in the library, but nothing told me what I wanted to know. Everything said how it was an accident, a tragedy, how two young kids were taken so early, whatever. I found the obituaries, yours and hers. Granddad wasn’t mentioned in either of them, not being immediate family of either of you, not like your parents or siblings.” Emmy pauses again, looking over at Harry. He’s got a hand on his chin, his eyebrows scrunched together. He remembers now, everything that led up to his death, and his death itself. It was painful, that’s for sure, but it was over fast, so he guesses that’s better.

Emmy continues. “I think him not seeing his name in the obituaries really opened his eyes. He realized it wasn’t your fault that Emmaline cheated, but hers. She initiated it, he shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Harry nods, hand still on his chin, eyebrows still scrunched. “If...if she...she died, too, when I did, why isn’t she here? Why am I still around, so many years later, and she’s not?”

Emmy shrugs and shakes her head. “I can’t answer that for you, Harry. Before tonight, I didn’t even know ghosts existed. I’ve seen them in movies, read books about them...maybe you’ve got some unfinished business. That’s usually what it is.”

Harry nods, and Emmy looks up at the house, her family inside bustling around doing their nighttime routines. “Harry, it’s late. I should go back inside.” Harry nods again, still contemplating. Emmy makes her way up the path, turning when she’s about halfway between Harry and the house. He’s crouched down now, in front of his and Emmaline’s tombstones, a hand out like he’s touching the one with his name on it.

Emmy knows he’s dead, but she hopes he’s going to be okay.

#my writing #Halloween one shot #harry writing #ghosts #death #halloween #the meeting during the summer is because I listened to Strawberry Wine right before I started writing this #I had the main idea but then I was like '......I can make this work'#so! enjoy! feel free to come talk to me about this if you liked it!

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blackcatkita · 6 years ago

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The Consequence of Secrets- Chapter 20

The Panic Begins

Liam x MC (Jennifer)

This was a tough one to write, and it may be difficult for some to read, hence the warnings below. I apologize for cutting it where I did, please don’t hate me! Tags are at the end, if you would like to be added, moved or REmoved from the lists, just let me know! I doubt anyone is going to “enjoy” this chapter, but if it moves you or gets you in the feels, please like, comment or reblog. I appreciate every single note! Word Count- 2752 . For all other works, please see my MASTERLIST.

WARNING- This chapter contains graphic descriptions of sickness and possible pregnancy loss.

Disclaimer- I do not own these characters, that honor belongs to Pixelberry Studios. I’m just playing with them. Mood board made by the very generous @darley1101

Jennifer kneels on the floor of their en suite bathroom, leaning over the toilet panting, trying to catch her breath after violently spewing bile and stomach acid into the bowl. Tears spill from her red, swollen eyes and roll down her cheeks, joining the beads of sweat that glisten on her upper lip as the sour stench of the vomit fills her nose. Her stomach clenches again as thick, sticky saliva floods her mouth and she lurches forward, heaving, though there’s nothing left in her stomach to throw up.

Whimpering into the porcelain basin, she spits, waiting to see if the nausea will return as the searing pain in her abdomen increases to an almost unbearable level. It feels as though someone’s plunging a dagger into her belly and an icy panic creeps across the back of her neck, spreading over her face and up into her scalp. Constipation didn’t hurt like this, nothing hurt like this. Something is very, very, wrong.

Too exhausted, weak, and in pain to stand, she turns away from the toilet and crawls forward, only making it a few feet to the rug in front of the vanity when the pain intensifies again, becoming a hot blinding pain wrapping itself around her midsection. Crying out in agony, she collapses onto her side, clutching her swollen belly in her arms as her body instinctively curls into the fetal position. I’m only twenty three weeks, this can’t be happening… Please God don’t let this be happening…

Wracking sobs shake her body and tears fall from the corners of her eyes, wetting the plush white cotton beneath her as she thinks back on the last few days. It had been so easy to write off how she was feeling as ‘normal’, the initial exhaustion had been the easiest to ignore. Between the sanctuary fundraiser and organizing the picnic, she had been stretched thin, working long hours, not eating enough… How could she have been so stupid to go to Lythikos so close to an event? She should have been home, relaxing with her husband, not pushing herself even further.

It was obvious Liam noticed something was off at the picnic, but she brushed it off as him being overprotective. He knew her better than anyone and she should have listened to him… should have paid attention to how she was feeling, but she really thought she was fine. Of course, she was tired… so what if she wasn’t hungry? Those things were normal during pregnancy, weren’t they?

It wasn’t until the day after Liam left for Switzerland that she started to feel nauseous and even then, she hadn’t been concerned. Although her morning sickness had gone away when she entered her second trimester, it wasn’t unheard of for her to have an occasional bout of sour stomach. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, she could always take care of it with an antacid, ginger ale, or some saltine crackers… not this time. This time none of her home remedies helped in the slightest and it got steadily worse until last night at dinner, when the nausea got so bad that she had to run from the room before she puked all over the table.

Then the pain began.

It started as a dull ache, just above her belly button, that soon spread across the top of her midsection. With the pain came an increase in vomiting and she knew then it was time to see the doctor. Though she felt bad for waking him, she called Liam to tell him what was going on and it was all she could do to convince him that she didn’t need to go to the hospital. He finally relented but thought she should at least call the doctor right away. However, it was late and after her marathon vomiting session and a bowel movement, she really had felt a little better and promised to call in the morning when she woke up.

Only a few hours later, before the sun even broke the horizon she was jolted awake by sharp pain in her abdomen, cramping in her pelvic area and a new wave of vomiting. Concerned and frightened, she called their general practitioner Dr Novak and despite the early hour, he arrived within twenty minutes. After a thorough exam, he diagnosed her as being severely constipated and that was the reason for the cramping and nausea. It made no sense, she had been going fine, so when he prescribed laxatives, she didn’t take them. She couldn’t explain it, but something told her not to, and aside from that, she wasn’t going to take more medication than necessary, not when she had their baby’s well being to think of… a baby she’s now terrified they may never meet.

As she cries in pain on the bathroom floor, she knows she should have gone to the hospital in the first place, when Liam asked her to. How could she let it get this bad? What kind of mother does that? What kind of mother ignores sign after sign that something was wrong? It all happened so fast… Oh god, Liam… he’s going to be devasted if anything happens to either of them, he doesn’t even know how bad it is, nobody does.

From the bedroom, she hears the soft melody of her ringtone, breaking her of her thoughts. If she can get to her phone, she can call for help, and she knows exactly where it is. Sitting on Liam’s nightstand where she set it after hanging up with him mere hours ago. It isn’t far, maybe thirty feet… she can do this… she has to do this… for herself, her husband, and their baby.

Recalling her training as her phone rings a second time, she closes her eyes, breathes in through her nose for four seconds, then out through her mouth for four seconds, repeating the exercise until her pain lessens, her tears stop falling and her muscles relax. She grits her teeth and tries to prop herself up on her left elbow, wailing as the debilitating pain consumes her again. She feels the blood drain from her face as her arm gives out, making her fall back to the floor with her heart racing and sweat dripping down her back.

The pain is constant, what was once a dagger has become a sword through her belly, and every movement twists that sword to unbearable levels of agony. We’re going to die here… laying on the bathroom floor, she thinks, clutching her baby tight while fresh tears roll down her face and she tries to catch her breath. “I’m sorry little one. I’m so sorry…” She whimpers as the phone rings again. “I hope that’s Daddy calling... Daddy will send help.” And he would, if he couldn’t get ahold of her, he would. He wanted to come home last night, after she started cramping. The only reason he didn’t was because she insisted that it wasn’t that bad, and he should stay and finish the meetings. The summit was important, too important to leave because she had a stomachache. If only she had known how serious it was then, she wouldn’t be alone now.

Minutes seem like hours as she waits with bated breath, listening intently for the sound of the apartment door opening, but all she hears is her own sniffling and the ominous clicking of the second hand on the large wall clock to her left. It feels like an eternity since her phone last rang, maybe it wasn’t Liam calling after all and no one was coming.

Desperation settles in her chest, like a tight fist squeezing her heart and she shuts her eyes, silently praying to anyone who will listen. God… I need your help. I know I don’t talk to you nearly as much as I should, and I have no right to ask you for a favor… but please, please save my baby. If not for me, for Liam. He is such a good man and he’s already been through so much… please don’t make him endure this too. I don’t care what happens to me as long as they are okay. Please God, I’ll do anything I have to… I’m willing to fight, but I don’t have the strength to get up and I can’t do this on my own… I’m begging you, send someone to find me before it’s too late…

From downstairs, Maxwell’s baritone voice calls her name and she startles, drawing in a sharp breath as her eyes fly open. Thank you, God… she sighs in relief. “Up…” Her voice is nothing but a hoarse croak when she tries to shout, wincing as the force causes her pain to flare. Steeling herself against it, she clears her throat and takes a deep breath before bellowing, “Upstairs! Bathroom!”

Maxwell’s thunderous footsteps pound against the wooden stairs, resonating through the apartment as he rushes to reach her. In any other instance, she would scold him for making too much noise but at this moment, it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard. Through a haze of grateful tears, she watches as Maxwell reaches the open doorway of the bathroom and stops short, his mouth falling open in shock at the sight of her on the floor.

“Let me through Lord Beaumont.” Startled by the deep voice behind him, Maxwell flinches, blinking twice with a quick shake of his head before stepping to the side to allow Bastien to enter the bathroom.

“Thank God you found me…” Jennifer lets out a sound, somewhere between a sob and a chuckle as Bastien kneels beside her, his forehead creased with concern. “How did you know to come?”

“His Majesty called me when he couldn’t get ahold of you.” Bastien glances over his shoulder at Maxwell, hovering in the doorway with tears in his eyes. “Maxwell, call King Liam and let him know we’ve found her and that she’s being taken to the hospital.” Nodding, Maxwell swallows hard before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone, his hand visibly shaking as he calls Liam’s number while Bastien turns back to Jennifer. He reaches out and places the back of his hand against her forehead, checking to see if she has a fever before pressing two fingers against her carotid artery while looking at his watch on his left wrist.

As Bastien checks her pulse, Jennifer listens as Maxwell speaks in a quiet but panicked voice to Liam. “We found her curled up on the bathroom floor… it smells like puke… she’s all sweaty, and she’s like, grey… It’s… it’s bad Liam… Yeah, Bastien is checking her now… Uh huh, ok, hold on…”

“Your heartrate is elevated.” Bastien tells her, interrupting her eavesdropping and releasing the pressure on her neck as his eyes study her face.

“Umm… Jen?” Maxwell approaches tentatively, holding out his phone, and she sees his bottom lip quiver before he quickly tucks it between his teeth. “Liam wants to talk to you.”

“Thank you, Maxwell.” She says softly, taking the phone and bringing it to her ear. “Liam?”

“My God…” Liam sighs in relief. “it’s so good to hear your voice my love. When I couldn’t get ahold of you… and with what Maxwell said, I feared the worst… Jennifer, what’s happened? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Her hearts stutters in her chest and she feels like she’s falling, spinning down into a black abyss as she begins to weep. How could she tell him she may be losing their child? That despite all the signs that something was wrong, she ignored them all… that she ignored him. She hadn’t thought her heart could break anymore than it already was but hearing the worry in his voice and knowing what she had to tell him, her heart was shattering. “I don’t know what’s wrong Liam, but I’m in so much pain…” Choking out a sob, tears stream down her face as she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Are you…” Liam pauses before clearing his throat and she knows he’s trying to control his emotions. “Are you bleeding?” He asks, his voice breaking just enough that no one but she would notice.

“No, but the pain is unbearable… I’m really scared Liam, I need you to come home… please come home.”

“I’m already on my way Baby.” Liam assures her, slightly out of breath. “I know you’re scared but I need you to be strong okay? Bastien and Maxwell are going to get you to the hospital and I will meet you there in about two hours. I’m getting on the jet now.”

“Okay.” She whimpers, sniffling.

“I love you, Jennifer. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“I love you too… please hurry.” Sniffling again, she passes the phone back to Maxwell.

“Do you think you can sit up Your Majesty?” Bastien asks.

“Yes, I think so…” Jennifer replies. “but you might have to do most of the work.”

“I can do that.” Bastien smiles softly before gently removing her arm from clutching her abdomen as he places her right palm flat on the floor in front of her chest, making her wince as the release in pressure causes her pain to flare. Grasping her left hand in his much larger one, he snakes his other arm under her shoulders. “Alright Queen Jennifer, on the count of three I’m going to lift you up while you push with your right hand. Ready?” With her face set in determination, she takes several deep breaths and nods. “One, two, three…”

Holding Bastien’s hand in a vice like grip, Jennifer pushes against the floor with all the strength she can muster, crying out against the pain blazing through her core as his powerful arms lift her into a sitting position. Her breath comes short and fast and she leans back against the vanity with her eyes closed. “That… sucked.”

Bastien stands to get a bottle of water from the vanity, twisting it open before handing it to Jennifer. Reaching up, he presses his thumb against the tiny microphone affixed to his lapel. “Phillip, call an ambulance for Queen Jennifer, right away. Confirm receipt.”

“Bastien.” From the floor, Jennifer tugs on Bastien’s pant leg and waits for him to look down before continuing. “I want you and Maxwell to take me to the hospital. I don’t want the press to know about this and… I don’t think we can wait for an ambulance to get here.”

“Your Majesty…” Bastien crouches down with a heavy sadness in his eyes. “With my leg, I can’t carry you safely down the stairs.”

Jennifer’s eyes fall on Maxwell, waiting by the door with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging forward. “Maxwell, do you think you can carry me out of here?”

His head snaps up and he wipes the tears from his cheeks before meeting her gaze. “I can do it.” Sniffling, he steps towards her with determination. “How are we doing this?”

“Cancel the ambulance order. Bring a wheelchair to the Royal Chambers and have vehicle four brought to the front of the palace.” Bastien orders into his microphone, waiting for confirmation before turning his attention back to Jennifer. “Alright, first we will help you to your feet, then Lord Beaumont will pick you up and follow me down the stairs to the wheelchair and the waiting vehicle. I will alert the hospital on the way.” Bastien hooks his arm under Jennifer’s armpit and gestures for Maxwell to do the same on the other side. “On three again… one, two, three.” The two men pull her to her feet and she bites down, barely stopping herself from crying out again.

“So far so good…” Jennifer breaths out through her still clenched teeth as she drapes her arm over Maxwell’s shoulders, her legs wobbling beneath her.

“Let me know when you’re ready Jen.” Maxwell whispers, his voice laced with worry. Meeting his gaze, she nods her permission and he bends down, looping one arm across her back and the other behind her knees. He lifts her into his arms and hot searing pain floods her abdomen, even worse than before and she screams in anguish, digging her nails into his shoulder. “Oh my god!” Maxwell exclaims with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Sweat and tears run down her face as she clenches her eyes shut, breathing heavily against the pain. “It’s okay Maxwell…” she pants. “Not your fault. But we need to go. Now.”

Perma Tag- @kinkykingliam @umccall71 @writtenbycandy @darley1101 @theroyalweisme @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl @katurrade @mfackenthal @debramcg1106 @trr-fangirl @alicars @eileendannie @3pawandme @tanyaschoices @flyawayblue56 @josieschoices @alwaysthebestchoice @meeraaverywalker @penguininapinktuxedo @mrsnazario1223 @endlessly-searching-for-you @sstee1 @speedyoperarascalparty @barbaravalentino @bella-ca @heatherfilliez @mitalijoshi @chiarace @never-ending-choices @drakelover78 @scarlettedragon @hdcathcart @annekebbphotography @flowerpowell @hhiggs @hopefulmoonobject @queenodysseia @gardeningourmet @purpleenigma7 @lodberg @perfectprofessorherokid @simplyaiden-blog

Series Tag- @liam-rhys @bobasheebaby @topsyturvy-dream @cordoniaqueensworld @hellospunkiebrewster @choicesfanatic86 @jayjay879 @kaitycole @drakesfiance @cocomaxley @viktoriapetit @mrs-simmy @ayo-minty-jess @jared2612 @crookedslimecreatorpasta @craftytacotrashdream @victoriamikhala @lizk77

#jennifer x liam #liam x mc #mc x liam #choicestrr #trrfanfic #choicesfanfic #king liam #maxwell beaumont #bastien lykel #angst #cordonia #the royal romance #liam x jennifer

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