#a sad one though

[poisonedstar2000]

Christmas Cancer

Part 1

Warning! You might cry and I won't feel guilty😊. Also i'm not a medical professional I'm a bored writer so I doubt any of this is right.

It was February 25th when Coach Jenkins dragged Jay to the hospital. He wanted to get Jay checked out before any big games, really he just used that as an excuse to find out if anything was wrong with Jay. 

It started small with losing his breath sooner, which was strange, Jay always stayed active and never stopped enough to lose fitness. Then Jay seemed confused in the middle of practices forgetting what he was doing, or why he was even there. 

Coach finally dragged Jay to the hospital after seeing him faint in the locker room. 

Multiple tests and prodding later, Coach drove Jay back to school and told him to get some rest. The results wouldn't be back for a week or so. 

Jay scowled and went to his dorm. “Hey where were you?” Carlos asked as he glanced up from his video game. “Just out for a run” Jay lied seamlessly, no need to worry Carlos over something that probably isn't anything. 

Later when Carlos was asleep Jay laid wide awake. What if Coach Jenkins was on to something and something was actually wrong with Jay. Jay pushed that thought back and tried to sleep, determined to believe it's nothing. 

Jay wished it was nothing as he stared at the doctor, cancer, Heart Cancer. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Coach was silent beside him. Something like grief and pain in his eyes. Sadness. 

The doctor said they couldn't do any surgery to remove the cancer, it's permanently there now. He had from 9-12 months to live. 

It made Jay want to rage. He'd survived 16 years on the Isle, Auradons prejudiced thoughts and ideals, and now this. What the fuck did he do to deserve this! 

Jay took a shuddering breath, feeling Coach Jenkins, and the doctor whoever his name was, eyes on him. 

Jay clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he stared at the floor. The sterile scent of the hospital room seemed to choke him, the walls closing in like they wanted to suffocate him.

“Son…” Coach’s voice was cautious and soft, like he was afraid Jay might shatter into a million pieces. “We’ll figure this out kid.” he said. Jay could tell Coach didn’t believe his own words

Jay didn’t look up. His voice came out rough and low, barely audible. “There’s nothing to figure out, Coach. Nine months. Twelve if I’m lucky.” Jay replied

The doctor, still sitting at his desk, started to say something, probably a rehearsed line about counseling or treatment plans to manage symptoms, but Jay shot him a glare so sharp it could have cut steel. The man closed his mouth, looking uncomfortable. Jay faintly wondered if the man learned to block his emotions and start sounding rehearsed when it came to a kid dying.

“Can I go now?” Jay asked, his voice cracking despite his best efforts to sound indifferent. Did they hear that?

“Jay,” Coach began, but Jay was already standing, his legs trembling under him, as much as they tried to stop them. He didn’t wait for permission, he never cared for it, not when it came to his life. He walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

He didn’t go far, unfortunately, his legs were shaking too much to actually go far. He found a small waiting area down the hall, empty surprisingly. Jay sank into one of the more plush chairs, then burying his face in his hands. The world felt heavy, crushing, and so damn unfair. Because why the hell did he deserve this?

The faint sound of footsteps approached, and Jay didn’t have to look up to know it was Coach. The man sat down next to him without saying a word, just a silent, steady presence.

“I don’t want anyone to know,” Jay muttered after a long silence, he didn’t look up but his voice was hard. “Not Carlos, not Evie, not even Mal.” he told the man.

Coach hesitated. “They’ll notice eventually, Jay.” He said.

“Not if I don’t let them,” Jay said firmly, sitting up and rubbing his face. He refused to let himself cry, he never has before he won’t now. “I don’t want their pity. I don’t want them acting like I’m already gone.” Jay snapped. It would break them.

“Kid…” Coach sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I’ve always done things alone,” Jay snapped, the bitterness in his voice surprising even himself. “Why should this be any different?”

Coach didn’t reply right away. He just looked at Jay, his expression a mixture of worry and something Jay couldn’t quite place. Maybe pride? Jay didn’t know, and he didn’t care to ask.

“I’ll respect your decision,” Coach said finally, though his tone was reluctant. “But promise me one thing.”

Jay frowned. “What?”

“When it gets too much, because it will, you come to me. I don’t care what time it is or what’s going on. You don’t have to carry this alone, Jay.”

For a moment, Jay wanted to argue. He wanted to push Coach away and pretend he didn’t need anyone. But the exhaustion was already seeping into his bones, and the thought of someone, anyone, being there when it got too hard was oddly comforting.

“Fine,” he muttered, looking away. “But I’m not telling anyone else.”

Coach nodded, accepting the compromise for now.

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the diagnosis hanging between them like a storm cloud. Jay stared at the ground. He’d survived worse, right? He’d figure this out. Somehow. He  remembered the doctor saying that people rarely survived heart cancer, especially since he seemed to have had it for a while without realizing it.

The drive back to Auradon Prep was quiet. Coach Jenkins gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, but he didn’t say a word. Jay sat stiffly in the passenger seat, staring out the window but not actually seeing anything. His mind was a chaotic storm of anger, disbelief, and a suffocating sense of dread. 

Every damn time he tried to think of something else, the doctor’s words echoed in his mind. Nine to twelve months.

The sun was setting by the time they pulled into the school parking lot. The setting sun casting long shadows across the campus. Coach put the car in park but didn’t immediately turn off the engine.

“You sure you don’t want me to-” he started.

“I’m fine,” Jay cut him off sharply, his voice like a knife. He didn’t even look at Coach as he opened the door and stepped out. “Thanks Coach.” Jay said.

Coach hesitated, looking like he wanted to argue, but he seemed to think better of it. “You know where to find me,” he said instead, his voice softer now. “Anytime, son.” How will Coach take his death when it actually happens?

Jay didn’t respond. He just slammed the door shut and walked away, his bag slung over one shoulder. His steps were heavy, each step a deliberate effort to keep moving forward.

When he reached his dorm, the familiar sounds of Carlos’ video game buzzed through the door. Jay took a deep breath, schooling his expression into something more neutral and relaxed. Something normal. He pushed the door open and he stepped inside like nothing had changed.

Carlos glanced up from his spot on the couch, a grin spreading across his face. “Hey! Where’ve you been? Thought you were gonna help me test this new game.” Carlos said. He came out of his shell a lot by now, Jay hoped that doesn’t change after he dies

“Got caught up,” Jay said casually, dropping his bag near the door. He grabbed a water bottle from his desk and took a long drink, trying to steady his shaking hands. “Went for a walk to clear my head.” Jay replied. He always had shaky hands from being a kleptomaniac and fighting the urge to steal, Carlos won’t question that.

“Man, you and your walks,” Carlos teased, his attention already drifting back to the screen. “Should’ve stayed. You missed me destroying Chad in a multiplayer match. Guy rage-quit after two rounds, I heard him screaming like a girl over the headphones.” Carlos said.

Jay forced a chuckle. “Guess I’ll catch the next one.”

Carlos didn’t notice the edge in his voice, too engrossed in his game. That was good. Jay didn’t want to deal with questions, concerns, or worse. Sympathy.

As the evening dragged on, Jay stayed in the background, nodding along to Carlos’ commentary about his game but not really listening. His mind was elsewhere, spiraling.

When Carlos finally called it a night and climbed into bed, Jay sat on his own, staring at the dark ceiling. The silence in the room was deafening. Every second stretched endlessly, giving his thoughts too much space to roam.

Heart cancer. Nine to twelve months.

He clenched his fists, the words looping in his head like a broken record. How was this fair? He’d survived sixteen brutal years on the Isle of the Lost, dodging hunger, danger, and betrayal. He’d fought tooth and nail for a chance at a better life in Auradon, enduring their prejudices and proving he belonged. And now this? What kind of twisted joke was the universe playing on him?

Jay squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts. But they wouldn’t stop. The helplessness, the anger, and the fear. 

It all surged inside him, threatening to consume him. He wanted to punch something, scream at the top of his lungs, break the world apart just to make it hurt as much as he did.

Instead, he lay there, silent, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. It’s nothing, he told himself over and over again. It’s nothing until it’s everything, how long until they find out?.

Eventually, exhaustion won out, and Jay drifted into a restless sleep. But even then, a heavy shadow pressed down on him.

A month later Jay sucked it up and got over dwelling. As much as he could, until now. It was past 2 in the morning and Jay was in the bathroom, blood dripping down his chin. His throat burned. He eyed his phone before ultimately grabbing it and clicking the call button.

“Coach,” he croaked, wincing at how bad he sounded. “Kid, are you alright, what's going on?” Coach answered. “I uh, I ran out of the pills he gave me and I keep coughing blood.” He said. “Alright, I’ll get another bottle at the pharmacy, I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” Coach said.

Jay sat on the cold tile floor of the dorm bathroom, his back against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. His hand trembled as he wiped at his chin with a crumpled tissue, but it did little to stem the slow trickle of blood. The metallic taste clung to his tongue, it made his stomach churn.

The minutes passed by, each one feeling like an eternity. Jay closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall and focusing on his breathing. In and out.. But every time he exhaled, it felt like shards of glass were scraping at his throat.

A faint knock at the dorm door jolted him upright, and for a moment he forgot where he was. He shook his head and forced himself to stand, using the wall for support. Carlos was still sound asleep in the next room, and Jay wasn’t about to wake him. He got to the door, unlocking it with shaky hands.

Coach Jenkins stood on the other side, a small paper bag in one hand and a look of barely concealed panic in his eyes. He stepped inside without a word, closing the door behind him. His gaze swept over Jay, taking in his hunched posture, his bloodstained chin, and the hollow look in his eyes.

“Jesus, kid,” Coach muttered, setting the bag down on the desk. He reached out, gripping Jay’s shoulder gently but firmly. “Let’s sit you down.”

Jay didn’t argue. He let Coach guide him back to his bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, he was tired. Coach knelt in front of him, going through the bag before pulling out a bottle of pills and a bottle of water.

Jay took them and opened the bottle, taking 2 and swallowing the pills with a wince. The water felt like fire, but he forced it down. Anything to make the coughing stop.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of their breathing. Coach sat back on his heels, studying Jay with a mix of concern and frustration.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were running low?” Coach finally asked, his tone sharper than usual. “You can’t let it get this bad, Jay.”

Jay avoided his gaze, staring at his hands instead. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” Coach’s voice rose slightly, then softened as he ran a hand over his face. “Kid, you’re not a bother. This isn’t something you can just tough out. You’ve got to let me help you.”

Jay shrugged, his throat too raw to argue. He hated feeling weak, and hated needing help. But as much as he tried to fight it, he couldn’t do this alone.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Coach sighed, standing up and pulling a chair closer to sit across from Jay. “Look, I get it. You’re used to handling things on your own. But this-” he gestured vaguely, his expression pained “this isn’t something you can just push through. You’ve got to let me in, Jay. At least let me make sure you’re not coughing yourself to death in the middle of the night.” Chach said

Jay managed a weak laugh, though it quickly turned into a cough. He pressed a hand to his chest, grimacing.

Coach leaned forward, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not alone in this, okay? I know you don’t want to tell your friends, and I’ll respect that for now. But you’ve got to meet me halfway here.” Coach said.

Jay nodded, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. “Okay,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” Coach gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Now, you need to rest. I’ll stay here tonight, just in case.”

“You don’t have to-” Jay started to protest

“Not up for debate,” Coach cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jay didn’t have the energy to fight him. “Just make sure you're gone before Carlos wakes up,” Jay said, Coach nodded. “1 more thing, actually” Jay said looking at Coach. “What's that?” Jenkins asked.

Jay gave a small smile, “I thought you were bald,” he said with an actual small laugh. Coach Jenkins wasn’t wearing his hat for once. He wasn’t bald but he had one hell of a receding hairline.

“Oh go to sleep kid.” Coach snapped. Jay snickered again but curled up in bed.

3 and a half months had passed since the diagnosis, and with each passing day, the reality of Jay’s situation hit harder. The energy he once had, fueled by a mix of ambition, passion, and the sheer need to prove himself had been steadily draining. 

The doctor’s warning was clear: No more sports.

Jay was pissed.

He had tried to argue, tried to push back, but the doctor had been firm. The cancer in his heart had already taken enough from him. Any intense physical activity, any competition, could risk his health in ways even the doctor couldn’t predict. 

Dangerous was the word used.

It wasn’t just the physical toll that was the hardest part, it was the loss of freedom. Playing sports had been Jay’s release in Auradon, his escape, his way to prove that no matter where he came from, no matter the odds stacked against him, he was still worth something. The thrill of it had been one of the only things that made him feel alive. And now, that had been ripped away from him.

It wasn’t just about Tourney, either. It was being part of something again, about being part of a team and feeling that rush of adrenaline when things got close to the end. That connection with his teammates, that was what kept him going. Now, he was left watching from the sidelines.

It was even harder to keep lying to the people. Mal, Evie, Carlos. They all noticed that something was different. Jay had always been someone who wore his emotions on his sleeve when it came to Tourney. They might not have cared as much about the sport as he did, but they knew him well enough to see the change.

The lies were getting harder to maintain.

Carlos was the first to press him on it. One day, after weeks of half-formed excuses and shrugged-off questions, Carlos cornered him in their dorm room.

“Hey, Jay,” Carlos started, his voice casual but his eyes sharp. “You’re not playing anymore, are you? What’s going on?”

Jay froze, caught off guard. He had been hoping to keep up the facade for just a little longer. “It’s nothing,” Jay muttered, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, pretending to be busy. “Just not feeling it anymore, that’s all.”

Carlos crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s not it, Jay. I know you. You love playing Tourney too much to just… give it up.”

Jay opened his mouth, ready to deflect, but the words stuck in his throat. The lie felt heavy, like it was going to suffocate him. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just... don’t feel the same thrill as before, Carlos.” He lied.

Carlos blinked, his expression shifting. He stepped forward, lowering his voice. “Why? What’s going on?” Carlos pressed, his eyes narrowed in a way that reminded Jay of watching Carlos try to solve a particularly hard problem.

Jay wanted to scream. What do I tell you? That I have a few months to live? That my heart is falling apart and there's nothing I can do about it? He wanted to say it, wanted to throw it all out there and just let them know, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t, not when he knew how much it could hurt them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jay said, the words coming out more forcefully than he intended. “I just don’t feel like it anymore.” He lied.

Carlos hesitated, his eyes narrowing. “Okay,” he finally conceded.

Carlos didn’t press further, though Jay could see the concern lingering in his eyes as he turned back to the door. “I just don’t get it, man. You’ve been avoiding everyone. It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s just how it is right now,” Jay snapped, before he could stop himself. A flash of hurt passed in Carlos’ eyes before it was gone, replaced by the same worry as before.

Carlos looked like he wanted to say something else, but he seemed to think better of it, just giving Jay a long look before leaving the room.

The silence that followed was unbearable. Six to Nine months left.

A few days later, Mal and Evie cornered him together.

“You've been avoiding us,” Mal said, her arms crossed, voice accusatory. “We know something's up. You haven't been to Tourney, you don’t want to talk about anything, what’s going on?”

Jay’s heart pounded in his chest. How was he supposed to lie to Mal? The words were right there, hovering on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say them. Not like this.

“I just... don’t feel the same thrill as before from Tourney, okay?” Jay told the same lie he told Carlos, pushing past them and heading for the door. “I’m fine.”

But Mal caught his arm before he could escape, her grip firm and unyielding. "Jay," she said softly, softer than anything Jays ever heard from her before. “We’re your friends. You can tell us.”

Jay looked down at her hand on his arm, and for a moment, he felt his resolve begin to crack. He wanted to scream it out, to tell them the truth, to let the tears he had been holding back finally spill over. But instead, he yanked his arm away and shook his head.

“I’m fine, Mal,” he repeated, his voice rough. “Just leave me alone.”

Evie and Mal exchanged a look, but they didn’t push him further. They knew when Jay needed space. But it didn’t stop the concern from showing in their eyes.

Jay walked away, heading to the one place he felt he could be alone, his room. But even there, the weight of everything pressing down on him made it hard to breathe.

Two and a half months since the diagnosis, and he was slowly falling apart. The things he loved, the things that gave him meaning, were being stripped away piece by piece, and the lies he told to protect everyone else were suffocating him. Six to Nine months left.

End of part 1, there will be 3 parts. If you cried for this, oops. listen I've been asked if the devil himself wrote this on another story I posted and I can tell you this one is much worse.

Merry Christmas!

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

"Why did I do that?"

close up

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[pangur-and-grim]

I think he likes me

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

his therapist woulda had a field day at their next appointment

[opikiquu]

[technically-human]

When the ghost who read to you as you died activates all of your Must Protect instincts

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Kiss Kiss Fallen Tree!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[sonknuxadow]

remember when they used to put cute little fangs on the sonic character models. life was so beautiful back then

[expelliarmus]

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Sometimes a day makes you want a Starscream to bite and squeeze

[the-phantom-peach]

Meeting the Light Dragon ✨🐉

[tagged as spoilers!]

[bigy-bigley]

Elphelt seemingly has unique dialogue with every character! This one kind of breaks the 4th wall a bit...

[kinou]

[demaparbat-hp]

Zuko's eyes watered against his will when the ghost of a woman he did not know smiled at him like he was her child.

Zuko decided right there and then that maybe, just maybe, this too was something he came to find.

Ghost-Mother takes a look into Zuko's soul in For the Spirits Chapter IX: A Rider Alone.

More than a stranded soul, Kya holds all the love of the Old Tribe and the means to calm a coming tempest. Zuko won't ever forget her.

(He won't be allowed to.)