#but i do think hed watch that happen and feel that same numbness he felt after he killed cazador

[iicaru2]

so you know how when redeemed durge rejects bhaal withers shows up and basically tells their dad to fuck off because thats his kid now. i have a lot of thoughts about the dark urge and all of them are emotionally devastating but anyway. do you guys think astarion saw that and felt some horrible kind of numb, resigned jealousy because years ago he desperately prayed to every one of the gods to free him from cazador and got no answer— then this bhaalspawn haunted by the narrative turns up and Fucking Jergal intervenes just to save their life and flips both ao and bhaal the bird at the same time. because ive been thinking about that ever since my durge run and i need to inflict that pain on everybody else now.

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Anon said: tried to read through all your request rules, but I didnt specifically see which Characters you write for. If you do, could you write for Porco helping his S/o sleep? I have super bad insomnia most days, and I just really want something fluffy with Porco...just cuddles or stories or something. If you dont write for Porco though could you switch it with a AoT character you do write for, I'm not really picky. Thank you so much in advance! 🥺💗

Porco helping you sleep

{Porco x reader | tw:none | sleep help, fluff | canon }

{ "The Night School" C.1660-C.1665 By Gerrit Dou 1613-1675 }

Unmoving shadows cast into the empty white walls, slightly flickering with the flame on the white candle sitting on the nightstand. Half lidded eyes observe their small movements for they're the only interesting thing in this empty hotel room you've been assigned. 

Your beige uniform tucked into the small closest with a single hanger inside, the armband hanging on the closest door for easy reach. The squeak of the spring mattress chirping up whenever you moved to flip your too stiff pillow. 

Judging by the amount of melted wax collecting on the bottom of the candle, you've been awake for far too long. 

This isn't the first time this has happened, you're used to getting acquainted with the room's walls and shadowy furniture.

Sleep has abandoned you long ago, its friend insomnia visiting you daily instead. Only leaving every week or so to remind you of what you could never have, taunting almost.

You've tried to force yourself to sleep really, did every known trick in the book, you even tried mediation like Zeke has been preaching to you about, but to no avail. so you've started making peace with the thing, you know at least using the night time to get things done since you're not getting rest either way.

Books were your first friend, for staring at the walls could only be entertaining for so long, but now with your stash of books miles away back home, you're left with nothing else to do.

The nightstand drawer only contained an emergency gun with several bullets inside, and the pocket knife under your pillow wasn't interesting enough.

Getting up from the bed, you picked up the candle before slowly inching the creaky door open. Maybe a glass of water could help, who cares that this is your third time going for water in the last hour? Well hydration is important after all, or so you tried to bargain for an excuse to stretch your legs.

Attempting your best to glide through the old wooden boards without as much as a squeak, you headed towards the kitchen, passing through several other bedrooms in the process, probably all deep in dream land already.

Everything was too quiet, the sound of water filling the glass was the only thing interrupting the silence, its cool feeling going down your dry throat helped you a bit.

Drinking down what you can, you decided to take the rest with you back, a good excuse for a trip to the bathroom later. Although as you turned, a figure was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and staring at you.

"Isn't it too early for breakfast?" Porco said, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned, "you should get some rest while you can, we're getting thrown in the front trenches tomorrow." 

Just the mention of it made your stomach roll at the thought of staying in a muddy hole for days, the smell of gunpowder and yelling of soldiers, not to mention the crowded train rides back home.

"I know, it's just…" you stared at the water moving inside your glass while tilting it, "one of those days, you know?" 

eyes narrowing with his eyebrows pulling down in concentration, even Porco's sleep clouded mind could recognise the heavy bags under your eyes. The ride here used all of your energy and now you're too tired to even sleep.

Feeling an unpleasant weight on his chest, he wasn't sure what to say as he approached you, awkwardly leaning against the sink, a heavy sigh left him.

"You know, you should bother me more often, I don't mind it." His gentle tone was followed by a melancholic smile, "let's just...go to bed."

With that his hand wrapped around your wrist, loosely at first like he was reluctant about it, before it got more secure once you didn't pull away.

…

The old door gave out a creek as it closed behind you, the room dimmer than you left it with the candle you're carrying almost burning out. 

Looking at the small bed with a single pillow, you wondered how the two grown people would fit in it and judging by the frustrated look Porco was eyeing it with, he must be thinking the same.

Looking at him, your mind wondered back to all the battles you've fought together. For some reason the superiors always seemed more strick and harsh with him, especially after the paradise mission was launched.

Belitting and nagging, carelessly throwing him in risky situations.

Your grip tightened around the water glass, feeling growing thickness in your throat. "Hey...it's okay you can go to your room, you need sleep." You said moving past him to sit on the bed, "I'll be fine."

"Should've thought of that before waking me up, now scoot over." He said, rising an eyebrow and stepping closer.

"I didn't wake you up, you're just a light sleeper." Laying down, you stretched your limbs filling the bed, "there's no room, it won't fit."

Silence filled the room for a while, you could feel his eyes roaming over you, "Oh really? Well…"

One second, you were laying on the mattress while staring at his stubborn expression in confusion, the next a pair of arms was lifting you up as he stole your place before dropping you on him. His arm circled your waist not trusting that you won't pull away

"I made it fit." he looked at you with smugness in his eyes

His warm skin felt comforting against yours, contrasting with the cold room air, you could hear his slowing heartbeat with being so close to his chest, your legs slowly tangling to fit under the blanket covering you.

Apparently that's as far as his genius plan went, because after that an awkward silence filled the room.

"So...you made it fit huh?" You couldn't help but say, a grin slowly spreading on your face. 

Porco blinked in response, tilting his head, before his eyes stilled as his ears flushed. "Fucking god, you're such a-" his attempt to scold you was interrupted by a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.

Having a contagious laugh, soon enough you too joined him.

After it died down, the atmosphere was replaced by a much more relaxed one as his hold on you softened, more intimate than the previous one. 

"When I was a kid, i used to have trouble sleeping- well more like i was too stubborn to fall asleep." Porco said, trailing his finger up your back soothingly, "and since Marcel was stuck sharing a room with me, he'd tell me stories to get me to fall asleep."

"What kind of stories?" 

"...if you tell this to anyone I'm reporting you to the higher ups you for treason, they were flower stories." Clearing his throat, you could feel his heartbeat rising under you, 

Closely watching your reaction, Porco continued after some seconds. "now I'm not calling you a kid nor do i think it's as simple, i just think...we should give it a chance." 

With the heaviness of the blanket above you and warmth of his body underneath you, it was hard to refuse his request, especially with the way he looked at you so earnestly. 

You agreed, and felt his other hand reach to pull up the blanket more, tucking you protectively between his body and the soft fabric. 

"This first one is called...well i don't remember what names Marcel gave them, but it's about poppies."

Crimson red bringers of eternal sleep, their crumbled petals and dark centers often found in the ancient tombs of soldiers.

As the mother of nature, Demeter, mourned and grieved from the betrayal of Zeus, it wasn't only the mortal realm in which death loomed at every corner, for her own mind was a tormenting prison of never ending suffering.

And so a droplet of her blood sprang and flourished to create a six petaled flower, easing her heartache if only for a moment as the poppy put her to sleep, numbing the pain.

Following in her trail was a red carpet of poppies, soon enough death and sleep themselves wore the flower, red crowns resting on top of Thanatos's held up head and one almost slipping from Hypnosi's leaning one as he dozed off. for eternal sleep was only another name for visiting the underworld. 

A symbol of peace in resting and condolence for the loss of a loved one, became the poppy's role. 

"This is why you'd often see them in people's front pockets whenever we return home." Porco said, the light slowly vanishing from the room as the candle burned itself out, the flame snuffed.

You've never questioned why a delivery of poppies would always be on the requirements in each returning celebration, it's just always been there. 

Slow and easy breathes flew through you, lazily stretching your arms up till it met something soft. Porco seemed to tense as your fingers loosely combed through his hair, leaning into the touch after a while.

"Don't stop." He murmured, sleep clear in his voice as another yawn left him.

"Do you have any other stories?" Drowsiness sweeping through your mind, you buried your hed deeper against his neck, eyelids fluttering shut.

"Yeah just…" his hand stilled from behind you as he looked into space attempting to recall a memory, soon enough the soft stroking returned. "This one is about peony."

Named after none other than Paeon himself, these flowers lived up to their reputation of healing and honour, for they have their own story to tell.

How the peony came to be declared king of flowers.

During the Tang dynasty, empress Wu Zetian strolled through her garden. Frowning at the empty field of green covered in thick white blankets of snow, the harsh season not showing mercy for the plants.

With a new goal in mind to flip this dreadful looking graveyard of a garden, she set to defy nature for she is the ruler of the land and her word is law.

Per her majesty's order, all flowers shall bloom in the midst of winter's visit.

As the word travelled far, all the fairies in the land couldn't believe their ears, how could such delicate fragile petals grow amidst the storm and snow. For flowers only bloom in spring, how could we go against mother nature?

While merciless mother nature was cruel, she couldn't compare for the empress's strong rule. For the fairies feared for their wings as their knees shook in her presence.

When the sun shined again, it welcomed colourful fields of different flowers in full bloom. The empress was pleased with their sweet smell and proud colours, each one rivaling the other.

And yet, she stood still near one flower bed, eyes wide. The peony deified her words and stubbornly refused to open, only sticks and brittle leaves left in their place.

In a fit of rage, the empress banished the flower to a far away city, striping away their status.

Living up to their stubborn nature, the peony bloomed that spring the most beautiful flowers humans have ever seen, turning the city of Luoyang into a heavenly soft land as their petals danced through the wind.

But their beauty couldn't last long, for a hungry fire swallowed them all, under the order of the empress who turned their green to coal.

And yet to everyone's surprise, when the earth circled the sun again, the peonies were back in bloom. Springing from the ashes were their mesmerising big petals and soft colours. 

In their respect, the fairies crowned them for their bravery as the ruler of the flowers, for wasn't it for their sacrifice the flowers wouldn't have been freed.

"They stayed on the right way, even if it meant going against the world." Porco's slurred words were half muffled against the pillow, head buried in it, his eyelids seemed to get too heavy for him to force them open again.

Turning his head to the side, you felt his lips press a light kiss against your forehead before whispering a goodnight, his hold still comfortably secure around you as if you might slip away. 

Soon enough, you too drifted into sleep as only his soft snoring filled the room. The moon watching over both of you through the windows as her light barely reached inside. 

And at this instant, you didn't think there was anywhere else in the world you'd rather be. Thoughts of what the future holds were pushed to the back of your mind next to the past, for the present is now and what a waste it would be not to bask in these rare moments of peace in this horrible world

[dastardlydutchvanderlinde]

The Last Fall

Wrote this to vent some feelings, almost made myself cry lol. Got a happier ask I’m working on that’ll be ready soon, but enjoy this for now if you can! (Am still taking requests, some just take me longer than others!)

—-

Seemed he was out of time. John Marston was coming for him, a rabid dog barking at the end of a short leash. No, Dutch knew Marston was only trying to survive, same as them all, same as always. Only now, now Dutch knew that once the rabid dog dealt with the wolf, they’d shoot him too.

There was no way out, no plan, no future. Dutch’s ideals, his dreams, well, they’d turned to ash long ago buried six feet under with the men and women he’d failed to lead.

John had always seen him with a suspicious eye in the end. John and Sadie Adler never truly trusted him, always assumed he was in this for himself. Dutch can’t admit that wasn’t occasionally the case, but for the most part? The gang had been his life, and now the Van Der Linde gang only had its original member remaining.

The mountains had never been where he’d wanted to die.

It was too cold for a start. There were no gentle breezes here, or beautiful sunsets, or warm rivers, or soft ground. It was harsh, bright, unforgiving. Perhaps it was a fitting end for him.

If he had his way, if he could turn back time and make sure he ended up where he wanted, Dutch would have died gazing up at a starry sky on a warm night. Crickets would be chirping around the sounds of horses, and Hosea would be by his side watching the world turn one last time.

This wasn’t anything like he’d imagined. It was cold. He’d shed his coat, one of the last things he had that Hosea had given him. He can’t remember why now, might have been a birthday gift, or a reward for not dying in their latest scam. Might have even been just because. Either way, he didn’t deserve to wear it, and so he didn’t. He was numb anyway, what good would a coat do?

The necklace though, the necklace Dutch didn’t take off. He hadn’t taken that necklace off since the day it had been given to him, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Hosea had stopped him in a market somewhere, just as they were about to leave town. He’d said they deserved a little break from running, and they spent the afternoon wandering the stalls and laughing about nothing. Dutch remembered the feeling of a hand slipping into his pocket, and looking to a mischievous grin on Hosea’s face.

“I reckon you got another thirty seconds before they realise our bags are as full as our pockets.” Hosea had said.

They’d taken off in a fit of giggles, and in camp later that night Hosea had retrieved the necklace from Dutch’s pocket and tied it around his neck.

It had been a simpler time. Only each other to worry about, only a small time bounty on their heads.

Ever since Saint Denis, Dutch has wondered what Hosea must think of him now. Standing here on a mountain edge, about to be confronted by a boy they’d raised together.

He’s not sure what would be worse, the disappointment or the sympathy.

Dutch hoped he’d find out. When John came to face him, he hoped he’d see Hosea again.

John would be the last man standing, of their original family. The last of the Van Der Linde gang, the last son, the last brother. It hurt more knowing it wouldn’t last long. That sooner rather than later, there would be no more gang to speak of.

It had been years since Dutch had been able to think clearly, but now standing with his back to the wind, he finds rationality and purpose to what’s running through his head. When Hosea had died, all he could think about was surviving, because if he didn’t he would have crumbled there and then. The fight hadn’t yet left him, even with the light of his life gone, Dutch still had the strength to stumble through the dark in the belief things would be better.

Then Arthur... it still hurt to think about. He’d been so blind, so adamant that there was no weak link in the gang, that it was Arthur who was talking crazy. It was something that would haunted him to his dying breath. Leaving Arthur to die alone on that mountain was something he would never forgive himself for.

Arthur’s passing had left him hollow. With the gang gone, and Hosea gone, he had nothing left but his own freedom. What was that worth, in the end?

John calls his last warning up the mountain, and Dutch knows this is it.

Whatever happened to him, whatever happened to the gang, he still loved John like his son. He still saw the greasy angry kid that had grown into a good man, and he hoped in the time John had left, that he would be happy.

It was his last choice. The last thing he had to find any kind of redemption. He would take life into his own hands.

Falling through the air felt more freeing than a bullet from his family. He didn’t want his blood on John’s hands. At least this way, he could look to the grey sky with a smile on his face, the necklace heavy against his chest, and hope that Hosea would still know him when he stopped.

[jackandmarksavedme88]

@ashphoenix06 @weirdmixofweirdness @honestlyitsjustkennaswriting @emma-wrote

TW: Violence anxd Blood

(I dont have a title for it lmao)

I could hear Jack in the next room recording his let's play; I heard him laugh and giggled. "My best friend is an idiot." I checked my phone, waiting for him to be done. I looked around and wondered how the hell i got here. Four years ago i was just someone just watching his videoes. Now? He's one of my best friends....something i would've laughed in your face for even suggesting it could happen. And yet here i am.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stand up...something's wrong. I realized its too quiet. I look toward Jack's game room and realize its silent.... except for a faint static sound.

"Jack?? You ok in there dude?"

My question was met with silence.

"Jack?" I get up and walk towards the door to the room hes in. The sound makes me shiver. 'What the hell is that?' I wonder.

"Hey... You ok?" I say as i knock on the door

"Ye-yeah...Im good...hey listen i dont think i can go tonight."

I frown "Huh? The whole reason anyone is coming is because youre here in LA for a while and they havent seen you in forever"

I hear him breathing hard "Just...go and tell them im sick"

I turn the knob slightly to open the door "Jack, are you sure youre ok?

"YES! ITS JUST A DAMN HEADACHE. GO"

I jump back, startled at the rage and pain mixed in his voice.

"Uh..o-ok...... If you need something let me know" I turn and walk out of the apartment hes renting and frown as i step onto the street

'What the hell was that?' I wonder.

I see a text from Amy asking if we are on the way. I dial her

'Hellllooooo?' I hear her boyfriend Mark's goofy voice

'Hey guys...jack is sick. He's not coming tonight'

Theres a pause as they take in the confusion and hurt in my voice

'What happened?' Asked Amy

'Fuckin beats me. But if he was a girl id guess PMS. He yelled at me! But its whatever. I'll just go hang out at home. I dont feel much like going anywhere anymore"

"No. Im going to come get you." Amy said. "Ill invite Katherine and Tyler and Ethan and we will all hang out at our house.... I dont want you alone right now"

I knew why. Mark and Amy knew all about the nightmares, the panic attacks. All of it started ten months ago and whenever they could, they kept me company

I was quiet...thinking back. To that night that everything came crashing down. The facade i built up was torn away.

*************

"Ugh. Youre talking to them AGAIN? Why do you feel the need to be up their asses"

I jumped, startled by Brandon speaking from the doorway

"Jesus babe. You scared me! Im watching Jack's video and talking to him and Mark."

'Yeah. Like you do every freakin day. You ever think they get tired of you?" His words dripped coldly, stabbing at a well known insecurity and finding their mark

I took a deep breath "No. Because they would say so. They would tell me 'hey. I dont feel like talking' and that would be that"

Brandon rolled his eyes "Yeah. Whatever. I dont see why youre friends with them anyway. They take too much priority. You should be focused on other things...like me"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes "I focus on you enough. Come watch with me! Its funny!"

"No. Thanks. I have better things to do. You should too" his voice getting that edge to it...the one I knew too well, it made me cringe but at the same time pissed me off

"I really dont get what your deal is." I said

"My deal is they stick their nose where it doesnt belong and they dont know when to walk away....especially that little Irish asshole" he sneered.

That struck me for some reason "Hey! Jack has never done anything to you Brandon. Neither has Mark for that matter. Back the hell off" I said, standing up and facing him

His green eyes flashed darkly "You need to watch how you talk to me. Thats another thing, you get mouthy when you talk to them. You forget where you belong"

I stared at him...wondering how the hell it had come to this. He wasnt always this way...and i wasnt always afraid of what would happen...

Mouthy?! If standing up for myself and people i care about makes me mouthy then i guess so! And what do you mean they dont know how to walk away? What the hell are you talking about? Whatd Jack do that was so bad?"

He barked a laugh out "When we went out to LA for you to see them, he didnt like how he perceived i was treating you. He threatened me. Him and Mark. Threating me! Not that you care"

I thought about that trip. About the bruise on my face i got the first night for a hug that lasted too long. The bruise on my arm when i wanted to go dance but not with Brandon... Thats when Jack, Mark and Amy had begged me to stay there.

To leave Brandon... Thats when they peeked behind the curtain i had kept up for the last two years.

"What do you mean by threatened?" I asked warily. Not sure what happened

" He waited till you went to the bathroom with the girls and slammed me up against the wall and said if i knew what was good for me Id 'treat you better' and he better not hear of it again" Mark just stood there and watched it and when i went to say something to him he said it was better that Jack did it because he wouldve done worse! Thats what your precious friends did." He spat. Words dripping with disdain.

I stood speechless.... I didn't think anyone gave a crap. Sure they said they did and wanted me to leave...but i didnt think i was a friend worth threatening someone over

"Well. Thats what happens when you care about someone. You protect them" i said quietly...before i realized what that would set off, then steeled myself for it

The atmosphere of the room changed. It went from normal to almost foggy. The tension grew thick. Brandon stepped up close to me, his 6ft frame dwarfing my 5'3" one.

"Im the ONLY person that gives a shit about you. They keep you around for entertainment. You think they care? You could disappear and in a month they wouldnt even remember your name. Im the one that takes care of you. Im the one that made you who you are. You would still be in your moms house in that backwoods town if it wasnt for me! You keep forgetting just where you stand in this relationship Alison. Keep pushing and im going to have to reteach you some things" his words were almost a whisper

"Now. Unless you want me to wait and kick his ass myself to make him leave you be, i suggest you not talk to him as much." He said smiling...it didnt quiet reach his eyes though. Those were cold and hateful

The thought of him putting hands on jack was too much. I stepped up right in his face

"You can do whatever you want to me. Say what ever you want to me....but dont you EVER threaten one of them again!" I spit out the words, my emotions and courage suprising me

I shouldve prepared myself, but the smack caught me off guard and i fell against the wall. He grabbed me and turned me to face him, pressing my back to it

"I told you. Dont. Speak.To.Me.That.Way" he spit out as he painfully grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.

"Brandon.. Let go!" I cried. He just laughed and hit me in the ribs on each side. I went down to my knees

"Get up you pathetic bitch. You want to stand up for your man, then do it"

"Brandon. Hes my friend. Why do you have to be this way. Hes a friend!" I yelled through my tears

"Oh. I know. Because why would he want something like you? But you seem to forget how to talk to me" his words dripped in hatred and anger. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and drug me to my feet. "Now. Are you going to do as told? Or do i need to convince you further?"

I breathed in sharply, pretty sure a rib was at the least bruised if not broken. But then i thought back to what he said. Thought of what hed do to Jack....because he really was that possesive.

"Im waiiiiting Ali. Or do you need a visual of what ill do to him? Id probably start at his kneecaps. Break those and hes at my mercy. Then ill work over his ribs and his face...if im feeling generous i might stop before theres a need for ICU...."

That did it. I went numb and saw red. I couldnt feel the pain in my face or ribcage anymore. The thought of it sent me flying into his face

I think it suprised him because i had never fought back before. Id always bowed down to whatever he wanted. Because i thought i loved him. Because i thought he was all i had.

I screamed as i drove myself into him and out into the living room. He tripped on his own feet and i landed on him, throwing fists anywhere theyd land. I heard a crack as i landed one on the bridge of his nose and blood started to flow. He yelled and grabbed me and flipped me over. He smacked me in the face and his body weight pinned me to the floor

"You dumb cunt. You really thought that would work? Did you really think you could make me do what you wanted by fighting back????? Youre mine and you will obey me!!" He punched me in the face and i almost blacked out. He looked up to the coffee table and saw his pocket knife and got a look of pure evil in his eyes. "And apparently you need a reminder of the fact that whats mine is MINE" With one hand he held my wrists as i struggle to break free, with the other he grabbed the knife and popped it open, the blade sharp and gleaming.... This was it... I knew i was going to die. Hed threatened so many times and hes finally going to do it.

He lifted the bottom of my shirt up, exposing my stomach. "Now. Hold still sweetheart" he purred coldly.

I started to kick and scream as i felt the knife drag across and slice my skin open....and the world went black..

..........

I slowly came to, blinking against the fluorescent lights. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust. Feeling dizzy, worn out... What the hell was going on?

"No. Shes been out of it since she came up here. Theyve given her medicine to help her rest and keep her calm. No, i dont know what they think yet...... Yes i know you want to kill him but the fact is, youre in England and hes here in Texas... Jack. Dude ill let you know, i promise...alright. Bye'.... I knew that voice..

I was confused. What is Mark talking about and why the hell does he sound so close? My eyes finally cleared and i could see Amy on the couch against the windows... Mark was pacing back and forth. His hair messed up like it is when he constantly runs his hands through it....i knew that was a nervous tic of his... I realized I was in a hospital bed

"M-Mark? I croaked out. Throat dry

He turned sharply "Alison!" Rushing to the bed side he grabbed my hand "Hey...welcome back" I looked to the other side where Amy had perched on the bed next to me, a worried look

"What.....what the hell happened?" I murmured, thoughts jumbled. I looked in Marks eyes, they were wet with tears that he blinked away quickly. "That bastard almost killed you.... The neighbor heard you screaming and called the cops....when they got there they could hear it so they busted in... He broke four of your ribs, gave you a concussion and cut you all up....you had me and Amy on emergency numbers so we got here this morning....youve been here about 24 hours." Tears streamed down his face as he squeezed my hand. I felt Amy rub my arm and looked over to her.

"You guys didnt have to come all the way here for me. Really.... Thats crazy. Amazing. But crazy"

"Heh" mark laughed "jack wanted to jump a flight from England... Oh i better call him"

He walked outside the room and shut the door

"Alison....I want you to come home with us when you get out of here. Im not leaving you in that apartment." Amy said, determination on her face. I knew there was no arguing.

"Ok...maybe for a little while..." I trailed off. We sat in silence for a moment

"By the way....cops said you broke that assholes nose and an orbital bone. Also busted his ribs when you were kicking him when he cut you...nice job" she laughed bitterly

**********

Ali??" Amy said over the phone. I snapped out of my daydream. "Yeah Amy...Im here. Um...Im just not up to people tonight... I promise im ok. If im not, I'll call you." I said

It was quiet for a moment and then Mark spoke up "Are you sure? We can be to your place in no time." I smiled "Yeah guys. Im sure. Ill talk to ya'll tomorrow" i hung up the phone after saying goodbye and walked to my car. Pondering what my life had become in just a few years..... 'Screw this. Im going for a drink' i said aloud.

I went back to my apartment and picked out my black dress from the back of the closet. I felt like wearing it for the first time since i bought it. I held it up to my body and studied my reflection and laughed, remembering the day i bought it

*********************

"Amy..... I really dont think i can come out in this" i said from inside the dressing room

"Alison Jaymes if you dont step out here right this minute im crawling under the door!' She said laughing

I grimaced...embarrassed to be in something cut so low.....sure my legs looked great and it gave me great cleavage but..... id be a laughing stock if i walked in anywhere in this...but i knew shed do what she said. i cracked the door and peeked out, making sure no one was around and stepped out.

Amy's eyes widened "holy crap! Girl. You have to get that. You look amazing!!!!"

"Yeah. Right im sure. And where or when would i wear the damn thing.... It shows too many of...these" i said bitterly as i traced the light scar down my arm and then one on my leg...both left that night by Brandon

Amy stepped closer to me "Ali, you look amazing. Please get it. Especially since your hair is that cherry cola color. Your green eyes pop and this dress just completes it. You.look.amazing..... I bet Jack would be speechless....and thats hard to think of" she laughed, looking at me mischeviously

I threw my head back and laughed. "Yeah. Speechless as to why i would wear something like this. I could have a Playstation attached to my head and he wouldnt notice me. Not that way..and thats fine. But.....this would be good to wear out to get drinks...meet a stranger....dance. Hmmm"

********************

I finished my eyeliner was applying my red lipstick. I stepped back from the mirror and admired myself. Id lost about thirty pounds in the last few months and had to admit i didnt look half bad.....i slipped my heels on and grabbed my coat and walked to the car.

As i was putting the keys in the ignition, my phone rang. I looked down at it as the screen lit up with Jacks face

"Hello? " I answered. Not knowing what to expect

"A-alison?" Jacks voice came through the phone raspily. It made me shiver

"Yeah Jack. Whats up?" I asked, a little worried now. He didnt sound like himself

"Hey...im really sorry about that... I-I didnt mean to yell at you at all. Its just...hard to fight those headaches and....well im just sorry ok?" He said, rushing through his words. I could tell he was tired. Worriedly i said " Are you sure you dont need anything? I have medicine in my purse. I could go get you some food or something...." Losing all thought of going out. Wanting to know what was actually going on

"Yeah...maybe...maybe some soup or something?" He asked. I smiled "Sure. I can do that. Give me a little bit and I'll be there, ok?" He sighed "Ok...and Ali? Again im really sorry-"

"Ah ah" i stopped him. It doesnt matter now. We're good. " i hung up, still worried, but glad to not end on a bad note. I got back out of the car and hurried inside. Instead of changing i just grabbed some sweat pants and old tshirt to change into when i got there.

About an hour later i knocked on the door. Jack opened it and invited me in...not speaking. I was carrying some chicken soup from the diner i loved going to. Homemade and it smelled amazing

"Hey. Thanks for coming back....what is all that?" Jack chuckled as i put the food and a bag from the pharmacy on the counter

"Well, i got tylenol, ibprophen and even some icy hot and vicks..... I didnt know what was causing the headache so i just grabbed what i use for different ones" I studied him for a moment.... "You sure you're ok? You freaked me out"

He looked at me with a sad expression "Yeah...im really sorry Ali...i dont know what happened. I feel like an asshole" he stared at the ground. I stepped toward him and put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey. I told you not to apologize anymore. All is forgiven. I just want to make sure youre ok Jack. Thats all that matters..ok?" He looked up, his blue eyes staring into mine and nodded. "Yeah...okay" he sighed and relaxed.

The he looked me up and down "what the hell are you wearing?" He laughed

I looked down, suddenly remembering the clothes in the bag on the table and the fact that i had my dress on. Blushing i laughed "Well. I was on my way to get a drink when you called.....i brought some clothes to change into.. I look dumb i know, i just didnt want to take the time to change' He looked down at my feet "were you going to wear your converse to the bar??" He said teasingly.

I laughed "No! I had heels on, but i didnt think you needed to see all that! Shut up!" I said throwing my hands up. Uncomfortable under his gaze all of a sudden. Feeling his baby blues on me

He touched my arm lightly and chuckled "hey. Im sorry. I didnt mean anything by it. Honestly you look great Alison. Ive never seen you dressed up like this"

I stared at my feet for a moment, trying to regain composure. "Well. Let me go change. You start eating" i said. Grabbing the bag with my clothes i went into the bathroom and changed.

After eating we sat down and popped in a movie. As it played i watched Jack from the other end of the couch...studying him. He seemed normal....i guess. There was still something off...but maybe hes just getting sick.

I held out the bowl of popcorn wed made and offered it to him. When he didnt notice i took a piece and tossed it at the side of his face

"Huh?! What the hell?" He said. I laughed "dude. You were spaced the hell out!" He grabbed the bowl and then looked at me mischeviously. He got a handful of popcorn and lobbed them at my face, laughing

"Hey! I threw a single piece! Not fair!" I dove over to his side of the couch for the bowl, giggling as he transferred it to his far hand and held it out of reach. "Urghh. Why am i so..short?" I growled as i struggled to reach it.

"Because its fun to play keep away" Jack laughed. I tried to get up to steal it but he held me with one arm. "Thats not fair either!" I laughed, collapsing as he poked me in the side. I looked down at him, one arm stretched over the side of the couch with the bowl of popcorn and me pretty much just laying on him....suddenly very aware of my face's proximity to his face...i flushed crimson and sat up and adjusted myself so i was again leaning to the other side of the couch

"Rude. Im ticklish and short...whats your flaw?" I jokingly pouted. He threw his head back and laughed. "You don't have the time or mental space for all my flaws Alison" Jack got up "Ill be right back. I want to make sure the video uploaded right" he walked into his game room, leaving the door cracked open.

After about five minutes i stood up, stretching and went to the kitchen to get a drink. As i was standing there, my back to the living room, i heard...laughter? My head whipped around...that didnt sound like Jack though. It was...weird. I sat my glass on the counter and creeped up to the crack in the game room door.

"Jack....hows the video?" My question was met with silence so i pushed the door open.

Jack sat in the corner of the room, on the floor, back to me with his head in his hands. His head was moving...twitching side to side..

"J-Jack? Are you ok?" I walked slowly to him...suddenly aware of how very silent it was...i couldnt even hear outside nosies....

I reached my hand out and right as i was about to grab his shoulder he spoke...pained....like he was fighting with the words.

"Al-Alison....go back to the living room....please....please just go.....just go in there ok? Give me a little bit...Im-Im fine but i need you to go...shut the door....please ali"

I shrunk back...he sounded almost desperate. "Jack. Please...let me help you...if youd just tell me what's wrong...."

He laughed bitterly "No. I need to be alone on this...please just go....and....do one other thing?" he sounded serious. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to jerk him up and find out what was going on.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

"Ali.....just remember..no matter what i say when i get like this .. I love you. Ok? I dont say it enough but i do. You're always there for me " i stood there...replaying his words, my heart hammering in my chest as he suddenly bent further down, face almost touching the floor and grabbing his head. I ran out of the door and shut it, my hand lingering as i wispered "i love you too......"

I sat looking at my phone, trying to distract myself. It buzzed with a new message. It was from my cousin Jennifer.

J: Hey cousin. What're you up to??"

Me: Nothing. Over at the apartment Jack's renting while hes in LA. You

J:Nm. Ooooooo Jack huh? You ever admit to yourself, or him, what a major crush you have on him? Or still in denial?

Me:Jen! No. And im never telling him that! Its fuckin weird. He's my best friend and thats it

J: whatever. You know, you just need to grab him by the shirt and lay one on him. I bet yall would be down and dirty in two seconds

Me: omfg Jen. Im done with you lmfao. Jesus. Dirty ass mind

J: Yeah. Like you haven't daydreamed about him saying your name in that cute little accent in the bedroom. But seriously....say something. Youll never know till you do

Me: yeah ok. Thanks Dr Phil.

I put my phone down, laughing at her. Then looked up when i heard the game room door open. Jack stepped out, looking as though hed been through a war.

"Jack!" I just up and hurried to him. Wrapping an arm around his waist i led him to the couch. "Sit your ass down. And tell me whats going on" i demanded as we sat on the couch.

He looked at me, his blue eyes searching mine. "Alison. There are some things i never want you to deal with....and that is one of them" i reached my hand out, cupping his face. "Jack. Youre my best friend. And i swear to you Im here. No matter whats going on...ok?" He nodded and closed his eyes, leaning his head to the side trapping my hand to his shoulder.

He suddenly looked up. Almost....frightened.

"Jack?" I said quietly. He turned toward me.... Everything became very still, his head twitched to the side. "Damnit" he whispered, standing quickly. This time i followed him as he walked away.

"Oh no. We aint doing this shit again. What the hell is happening" i demanded. He suddenly stopped at the closed bedroom door and i ran into his back

Jack....c'mon. This isnt funny." I said, angry and little bit terrified

He began to laugh but....it was off. It sounded....higher pitched and crackling. Suddenly he shook his head "No! Leave her alone!!!" He shouted, smacking the side of his head.

"Jack! What the hell!?" His head twitched side to side. I stepped back, the hair on my arms standing up. Something is wrong here. I reached out slowly, touching his shoulder and in a whisper choked out "Ja--Jack?"

Suddenly i was being twisted and thrown backwards against the wall, his hand at my throat, head hanging to his chest. "Jack!" I screamed. "WHAT ARE YOU----"

My words died in my throat as he raised his head, his beautiful blue eyes had been replaced by emotionless black. His head cocked to the side as he grinned evily at me.. Teeth seeming longer

"Alison" the thing purred "Dont you know when someone says to leave them alone. .you should? You know the saying about the cat and curiosity dont you kitten?" All color drained from my face

"An--anti? What. How?" I stammered. Not believing this" he got rid of you....you were gone!

The demon threw his head back and laughed. "Oh Ali....you think this...weakling could kill ME? You think id be defeated by your BOY?" He spit out mockingly, his grasp tightening on my throat. "Jack and i. We are the same person. Without me, theres no him" he giggled that insane laugh again. Id only ever heard it in videos....it was so much worse in real life

"Anti. Hes NOTHING like you. Hes pure good. Strong, smart and successful. Youre just a glitched out bitch that has become a joke. Your angry turtle voice isnt going to scare me. Show me something worthwhile or get the hell out!"

His gaze locked onto mine, it felt as though he was staring deep into my soul.....then he smiled, the grin sinister.

He leaned right into my face, waving the knife that was in his other hand and running it gingerly down my arm. "Should i leave a few more scars? Im a bit more well learned in this than Brandon was though Princess.....i bet my scars will run deeper..maybe ill let Jack watch as i cut you.. I think hed enjoy it" he growled. I stiffened at his words.

"Anti. Youre nothing like him. Youre not even HALF the man Jack is' i spit out, pissed off and scared. He studied me for a moment and leaned over into my ear. His breath hot on my neck

"You think hes just so perfect? Such a good boy?" He purred into my ear "i just want to cut you....to make you feel pain. Him? He wants you to enjoy it when he hurts you" his knife traced my side as he spoke. " They say Im from hell and some of the things in his head when hes around you almost make me blush" the words came out half amused and half disgusted. He leaned back and laughed, the sound twisted and distorted. "Hes a pussy. Cant even do anything about this.....he couldnt even save you from Brandon...and he reallllly wanted to let me loose that day. Had him against the wall and everything" The glitch laughed darkly

"And now. He gets to watch while i kill you.....i might even let him back to reality after so he can feel your blood on his hands" Antisepticeye giggled again.

"Jack! I need you to wake up.....i need you to fight this! Please!" I pleaded, searching for any sign of him in the abyss that his eyes had become. "Jack!!!" I raised my hand and slapped him almost instinctively.

All of a sudden he fell to his knees. Clutching his head. "Aghhhhh!!!" His yell ripped from his throat, the sound of torture.

"Jack. Fight him! Please!!!! " i dropped to my knees in front of him and grabbed his face in ny hands. When i forced him to look at me his right eye shown that beautiful blue color...the other still black. "Jack. Come on. Please. You can do this. Please come back! I didnt tell you i love you too!! You have to come back so i can tell you!!"

I began to sob as he fell to the floor, jerking and holding his head, cries of pain eminating from deep within.

And suddenly.....he was still.

I reached for him, still on my knees. "Jack?" I said softly as i touched him. I rolled him over. His eyes were closed and he was too still for a long moment

Then he coughed. I sank to the side, butt hitting the ground and sighed. He half sat up and looked at me. Both eyes the most beautiful shade of blue id ever seen

We stood up and after a moment he looked at me. "Alison....oh my God. Your neck..." I looked at him "My neck?! Thats what youre going to comment on??!?" I half yelled incredulously. "Really?! Not the fact that Anti has been screwing with you??? You didnt think we needed to know?!"

Jack stepped closer to me, fingers trailing my throat....tracing the sore spots left by anti's hand. "Im so sorry....i didnt mean to...i.... Oh God whats happening to me?! He cried out.

I stepped forward and buried my face in his chest hugging him tightly. Both of us crying.

"Jack.....i almost lost you." I whispered.

"He almost killed you Alison......that asshole almost......and i couldnt stop him! How fuckin useless am i? He cried out

I stepped back and looked at him and then held him tightly. "Jack. You didnt do anything wrong " i said

"It was MY hand around your throat Ali!!!" He yelled as he pushed away. "Dont you get it? I stay so far away so i dont end up hurting anyone." He turned his back to me, wiping his face and walked to the bedroom.

I followed him and sat beside him on his bed. Silence stretched out. Neither of us knowing what to say. Then he spoke "I cant believe i threw you into a wall and choked you..."

I laughed and before my brain could filter my words i said "Oh cmon....it wasnt that bad. I mean, if not for the whole Anti posessing you thing it wouldve been kinda hot!".... Then realizing what i said i fell backwards and just laughed, soon he was laughing his ass off right next to me. "What the ACTUAL FUCK Alison!!???" He sputtered, the fuck sounding more like FOOK in his accent, as he laughed more. "I dont fuckin know. I was almost choked out by a demon glitch Jack!" I shot back through my laughs.

Soon the laughter died and i sat up. Taking a deep breath...Suddenly he grabbed my hand and said softly.. "Did you mean it?"

I looked at him. "Did i mean what?" I asked. He looked down at the floor and then spoke as he raised his gaze to meet mine "When you said you loved me......did you mean it?

I stared at the ground a long while...then stood up fidgeting with my hands and i walked back across the room, putting my back to him as i spoke

"I-i....mean..." I sighed hard and just let the words out "Yeah. Ive always meant it when i said it Jack.... For the last three years." I heard him stand and walk up behind me. "Well alison....you couldve said something." He said softly

I laughed and turned to face him "Yeah. Let me just tell my best friend that somewhere along the way i fell for him. Let me open myself up to THAT rejection. Ha! No. Thanks im good with that." He studied my face intently, then reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear and cupping my chin

"What kinda of an idiot would reject you?" He asked softly and then said "well....ok im an idiot for not noticing.....but not that big of an idiot. I have my limits you know..' and with that leaned his face down and pressed his lips to mine. The world stopped for a minute, and then i wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back as he pulled me against him.

When he pulled back we were both breathless "Jack....." I said and then stopped. Not knowing what to say so i leaned against his chest. Wrapping my arms under his to hold him. His hands trailed up and down my back as we stood there, completely comfortable in our slience.

He sharted shaking and laughing again out of no where. I stepped back and he shook his head "Sorry. Sorry. Just what you said earlier... I cant believe that came outta your mouth!"

Putting my hands on my hips i glared at him playfully "you just haaad to go a ruin a great moment didnt ya!" Then i started laughing too.

He put his hands on my shoulders "Ali...hon. Im sorry its just hilarious hearing you say that! Dirty minded much?" Then he stopped and very slowly stepped closer and closer to me until my back hit the wall softly and he stared me down with a serious look.

"J-Jack?? Very funny. Ha ha. Stop it"

He smiled. His blue eyes twinkling. "What? I just wanted you to have a better memory of being backed into a wall by me is all" his hand softly pressed to my throat as his mouth captured mine again, more urgent this time, pressing his body to mine. Softly but in control of my every move.

[the-ash0]

surviving paradise ch 26 - loss

Lekus was dead.

They stood outside Frieza’s on-world throne room, the giant doors slammed on them after the shortest debriefing ever, and it just would not stick. His head throbbed with the attempt to find the logic in a timeline of completely unrelated events.

Lekus was dead. What had just happened?

The Saiyans had returned a day late. Just a day, but one day should have been enough for another epic prose session detailing their failure. Not to mention that Vegeta had expected another public debasement, another one of Zarbon’s great tales. He had also expected Frieza to reiterate its proposal where the tyrant implied that Vegeta was not cut out for command. That he shouldn’t bother with any delusions about being self-reliant; he should just sit at Frieza’s side from now on and wait on the Icejin’s orders before he acted.

He had been ready to accept the offer.

But none of that occurred. Frieza had given Zarbon one warning to ‘keep it short’, then still cut him off after less than a minute, dismissing his elite with a: “so, the mission was a success. Great” Next, the Icejin turned to the Saiyans and addressed the whole group in another out of character act. ”You’re all on stand-by until further notice. Well done.”

It wasn’t fucking well done. Vegeta was infinitely aware of that; aware that he’d finally and irrevocably messed up. Frieza should have sensed that. The lizard should have been well aware that any advantage the Prince had gained last time could have been taken back with interest in that very moment. Yet Frieza had acted distracted and absent-minded. So, apparently, any game they had been playing was already over.

Why had Frieza lost interest? Vegeta was nearly sure he could have just ordered his squad to turn around and go back after one look at that planet and their defences. That he could have reported to Frieza the job was impossible and he needed to send the Ginyus or something, and he’d still have gotten the same glowing review. Hell, in its present state of mind, Vegeta could have taken the squad on an intergalactic pleasure-cruise and the tyrant would still have complimented him on a good job and sent them on their way.

It didn’t make sense. Frieza was nothing if not perfect: immaculate, obsessed with cleanliness and time-tables, and devoted to micromanagement. For the lizard to just drop his modus operandi was unsettling. And Lekus? Lekus was dead, and it didn't even seem to matter.

Nobody gave a fuck. Not Frieza, not his Saiyans... No one. Couldn't they see? Couldn’t anyone see? Granted, Vegeta supposed he should not have expected the lizard emperor to care. But his own men, he had at least expected to be somewhat upset. Instead, they stood around outside the doors, clapping each other on the back in congratulations. An odd relief was expressed on their faces, any tension long gone. All his Saiyans, except for Raditz, who was still in the tanks because his wounds had worsened on the return trip despite cryo sleep. And Lekus...

Lekus was fucking dead, and Vegeta had just gotten congratulated on a job well done.  

“A celebration is in order!” Jack roared, as coarse and boisterous as ever.

Nappa guffawed right back. “Let’s get shit-faced drunk!”

Even Nion, who believed himself to be the voice of reason, laughed. “Drinking is called for.” He paused, then looked the prince's way with uncertainty. “Will you toast with us? In memory of Lekus?”

Why were they happy? Vegeta snarled, countering his own pounding head. “In Lekus’ memory? You fucks crazy?”

“My prince, please relax. We did well. We received a good review and some down time, finally. And he earned it for us, together with your outstanding tactics, of course. We should celebrate!”

Vegeta wasn’t really sure why that set him off. Nion was not smart enough for this level of sarcasm. Still, a ‘job well done’ was a bald-faced lie, and it lit the Prince’s face bring red as he screamed. “Fuck that dumb fuck for getting himself killed. And fuck you all!”

With a punch to Nion’s gut, Vegeta shoved the elder out of the way then growled a warning at the others. They stepped back, cowed. Still, the Saiyan teen felt suffocated. Smothered, like he was drowning. Outside; that’s what he needed. With an angry tread he took the fastest way out one of the ornate balconies, then pushed off and flew up into the white clouds overhead.

The air was frigid cold on his face, whipping in his ears so loud it hurt. But the cold, wet air calmed the rage and numbed his pounding head. After a little while, it felt good to just dive down and wind through the white-topped jagged peaks that covered most of the planet’s surface. Vegeta was not one to notice beauty, and he hated this planet too much to consider such a possibility. But the action was mildly entertaining, perhaps even enjoyable when done at a speed that made the curves a challenge.

When the novelty had worn off, Vegeta returned to the heights above the clouds, watching his long shadow in front of him in quiet contemplation. A prince should practice cold logic, even if his gut felt like it was on fire. Vegeta felt like that a lot lately, and he hoped it was an age thing. He was royalty, and only lower classes were supposed to be susceptible to bloodlust bad enough that they could not see past their own rage.

And looking at it now with a literal cooler head, he wondered why he had been angry at all. Vegeta had planned to downplay the loss. But he had been so sure he would have been called out on Lekus’ death, that when it did not happen it caught him off guard. In fact, Vegeta though he would have preferred it if someone had blamed him. It would have made it easier to brush off.

Yes; brushing it off had been what he had intended to do. Act casually. Drinking with the men would have been perfect for that. It's what commanders did. Probably. He’d just been blindsided by these fool reactions. And Frieza’s. Which worried him to his core.. But. No, he should have accepted the offer to go drinking.

It would not do to turn around and find his squad though. If Vegeta showed up now, someone might think he was apologizing for his earlier behavior. But he couldn’t keep flying like this indefinitely either. At the rate he was burning through his ki, even a Saiyan could not keep the cold at bay for much longer. The small sun was already half-hidden behind the jagged peaks, so it would be dark soon and colder still. Besides, he had worked up quite an appetite. After getting his bearings, Vegeta grudgingly opted to go back to Frieza’s ship and get a filling meal.

On return, he checked the med-bay first to find Raditz still immersed in healing liquids. At least the third-class was going to live. Not that he cared; at least not enough to have his mood lifted. Vegeta trekked to the mess hall next, thankful that most staff had disembarked. He was in no mood to talk to anyone.

Sadly, there was still a short line at the feeding station. Five men out of the six in the room stood waiting, and the line did not move. At all. After a minute, Vegeta shoved past the waiting men until he found the culprit: a tall, thin green alien that moved slowly and deliberately, collecting his slob with agonizing slowness. Like an old man, although Vegeta doubted the creature could be much older than himself. Vegeta growled at him, but when the man turned, recognition fluttered inside the Saiyan’s mind.

The feeling, it turned out, was mutual. The creature froze, and the closer Vegeta studied it, the more disgusted he felt. It was too thin and had grown up weak. Then the man started to shake as well. This was not an unusual reaction to the Prince of Saiyans from a civilian but for a soldier… it was just odd.

“Don't I know you?” Vegeta pondered.

The green man’s face contorted, either in rage or fear. Or both. “You...” it hissed. Then it seemed to lock up and as it looked down at its ugly, crooked fingers.

What a mess of a man. How could Frieza allow something like that to work for it? Vegeta mused, and yet. He knew this creature… well, it didn't really matter. Food, now that was important.

“What the hell is the hold up?” he inquired.

The look of shock that came over the man’s face sparked another memory. Of someone younger, a lot healthier looking, and... Yes, this was the boy... The one that could... cook … right? Vegeta certainly didn't remember him being this ugly and crooked, or this weird in the head.

A purple face pushed the tall green thing to the side, and this one Vegeta definitely recognised: Cui. “Can't even remember his name, can you, Vegeta? This is Cordwell. You’ve caused him a lot of suffering, you know?”

If Cui had meant to talk for the gaunt thing, he met some opposition from the creature in question. The thing called Cordwell leaned over Cui’s shoulder, and pushed round fish-like eyes close to Vegeta’s face as it spat out: “It’s all your fault!”

Vegeta returned the challenge with another snarl. How dare he speak that way? Lekus... No. And now this creep? No. he was not responsible. “You might want to be more specific. You upset I didn't kill your mom before she had you or something?”

Cordwell made an attempt to climb over Cui, long limbs reached out and twisted fingers grabbed for the prince. “You put me up to it. Put us up to it.”

It foamed at the mouth now, and the spectacle was disgusting enough to make Vegeta rethink fighting the creature. Maybe he’d eradicate it from a distance, but he didn't want to catch whatever madness held the lanky alien. Its words made little sense, and despite any real belief that this thing was capable of intelligent conversation, Vegeta heard himself ask: “What?”

“We tried to run,” Cordwell panted, having made a path over and past Cui, who now tried to restrain him from behind. The squid didn’t have enough footing, and so the green mess inched closer to Vegeta. “You told us we’d die if we didn't. That we should take the pods. But we were caught.”

Confused, Vegeta fixed Cui with a questioning glare. But he was met with such a hostile look  that he had to ask: “What nonsense is this freak talking about, squid?”

Cui tisked at him, then violently wrestled the much larger alien back. “You gonna deny this now, monkey? Everyone knows your father was a traitor. But you had to go on and pull us down with you, didnt you?”

“What are you talking about?” Vegeta inquired, disgusted.

The foaming, sick thing accused with a voice that jumped another octave: “When your stupid old man got himself killed. You told us they’d come for us too. That we’d be killed. That we should run. But we only ever got the pods to lift off before we were retrieved. And we ran, so we were guilty. I’m... I’m all that’s left. We... we... we should never have listened to you. You killed them.”

That didn't make sense. Vegeta had not known about his father’s coupe until after it had happened. He’d not had the chance to tell anyone anything, with Frieza smacking him around. And even if he had... What the man claimed was impossible. No one could get a pod to take off without clearance.

Nothing the boy said made any sense. None of whatever was supposed to have happened to those boys was his fault... and Lekus...? That wasn’t his fault either. Vegeta stared down at the tray in his hands, red pushing up and around his vision. The tray shook as his hands threatened to bend it, until found the perfect place to bury it: right in that lying green slime’s lying face. The Saiyan didn’t pause before he socked Cui in his tentacled mouth. Vegeta turned again to charge a blast at Cordwell, but the thing was already swinging its own tray at Vegeta. It contacted with a smack to the side of his skull, but the Saiyan took it with a grin, just so he could fire off the ki he held.

It was not rage that overtook him, rather something empty and uncaring. Vegeta swung punches without even blocking, and when he felt Cui rain blows on his back he took the punches to his kidneys and spine as well. He was probably smiling, perhaps even laughing. Vegeta’s fists throbbed with every impact, and he clung to that feeling regardless of any other body parts screaming that he was taking actual damage.

Vegeta didn’t give a fuck anymore, he just methodically punched the tall green creature to the beat of some alarm that had gone off and now blared across the mess hall. He turned to exchange fists with Cui again, only slightly hampered by the green beanstalk that now tried to restrain him. Vegeta swung out his elbows left and right, not even caring what he hit. This bought him a few seconds, which he used to turn his assault back to Cui, until something dropped on his head hard enough to daze him.

It must have been Cordwell, dropping something hard on him. But it was impossible to tell, because his head was ringing. It didn't matter though. With a shake of the head, Vegeta waited for his vision to clear enough so he could pummel the first shape he made out. He’d drink it up, all of it, drink it up and spit it out tenfold. And it was working. Cui and Cordwell were so confused and rattled by Prince’s willingness to take anything they dished out that they guarded more than attacked.

With one last hard hook, Vegeta pushed Cui back far enough to make another one-eighty turn and lounge at Cordwell. But the creature had already backpedaled at least six paces and then dropped to his knees, eyes wide as he looked off to Vegeta’s left and cowered. It was not as the Saiyan had it pissing its pants though.

“Dodoria.” It shuddered, like that monster was something worse than the Prince. Vegeta was less impressed. He just turned to face this new threat, and charged up another blast.

The pink brute reached out a large fist and engulfed Vegeta’s entire arm, blast and all. “Making trouble, little Prince? And while our master is getting ready for his guests no less? Bad timing.”

What guests?

“Fuck you,” he raged and tried to pull his arm free, unwilling to extinguish the shot, even when he started to smell cooked flesh. That ki was intended for Dodoria’s face, to wipe that ugly smile off it. Vegeta bared his teeth.

Dodoria blinked, then smiled a toothy smile. “Oh yeah. I think you need a little time to cool off, don’t you?”

“Fuck. You.” It burned, and it occurred to Vegeta that his hand would sear off before he even pierced Dodoria’s thick skin. Logic. He was going to think, not act like some blood-raged… The ki went out.

“I’m guessing that’s Saiyan for yes.”

read the rest on https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338988/chapters/35590152 or ff.net

[solarpunksoftie]

Frantic (Too Deep)

Fandoms:

Thomas Sanders

Characters:

Anxiety Sanders Patton Sanders | Morality

Additional Tags:

Crying, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Hurt/Comfort, Wounds, Blood, seriously a lot of blood, this ones messy, this is what happens when you fuck up kids, Whump, gotta hurt the tired boi, it gets fluffy at the end, Self Loathing, Unreliable Narrator

Summary:

Anxiety thinks he's cut too deep. In a panic he runs to Dad for help.

A/N:

this is gonna get really trigger happy. this one is really bloody. read safely kids!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10967349

Anxiety bit the inside of his cheek as he slid the razor across his thigh for the dozenth time in the last five minutes. The blade had stopped hurting the way he had wanted it to about two cuts ago, but they still bled the same. He always took the numbness as a sign to stop. If he couldn't react to them to the correct degree, there was no telling what kind of damage he'd do.

Heaving a shaky sigh, Anxiety pulled his hand away to admire his handy work. Twelve lines criss-crossed across his right thigh, barely discernible under the pool of blood that was quickly growing tacky on his skin. He felt a wave of disgust at himself as usual. He wasn't sure why he even did this. It never made him feel better. you deserve it you're evil and cruel you should be punished punish yourself because no one else will

Gritting his teeth he dug his fingernails into the mess of cuts. He couldn't stop bleeding yet, he wasn't done yet, he deserved more. moremoremore He felt a ripple of satisfaction as the blood under his fingers went from tacky to slick again, followed once more by disgust.

what am i doing you deserve it i cant believe im doing this to myself there needs to be more i must have some serious issues one more cut cant hurt

one more

Anxiety readied his hand again. this is the last one tonight He bit his cheek as he pressed the razor into his skin. He didn't see new blood spring to the surface through all the blood already smeared across his leg, but he didn't have to. He knew what he was doing.

A loud bang from the hallway made him jump, his head whipping to his door. He sat frozen for a long second before he realized that had come from down the hall. its past midnight, logan and roman must've been up talking. princy probly slammed his door cuz he lost an argument as usual. Anxiety smirked at the prospect of the Royal trait losing a debate with Logan again, and turned back to his leg, only to bite back a shriek.

There was so much more blood than before, pooling, bubbling eagerly out of his skin.

my hand slipped oh god what have i done

His heart hammering in his throat, he lunged for the nearest absorbent material, a thick flannel, off his bed.

theres so much blood theres so much

His breath grew ragged as he pressed the shirt to his leg, watching the black fabric grow darker with blood until it was entirely soaked.

it wont stop why wont it stop

He looked frantically around his room, trying to remember how to care for serious bleeds. But healing wasn't his department. He had no idea.

oh my god im gonna bleed to death

He needed help. His stomach churned just at the thought of letting any of the others see him like this, but he was terrified. He was shaking and getting light headed and he couldn't tell if it was from panicking or blood loss. Probably blood loss; always better to assume the worst with an injury involved.

Anxiety's mind raced through who he could go to. He couldn't go to Logan because he was probably in a foul mood after his argument with Roman, and Anxiety didn't want to ruin his night further. Roman was the same, but Anxiety hadn't really considered him an option in the first place because you can't hope and dream a serious injury away. Roman would be useless no matter what. Thomas was out of the question as well. The host was already onto him, and if he went to Thomas now he'd just get an "I knew it" and he would be insufferably smug. So that left Dad.

Could he live with upsetting Patton with this? Patton was always so happy and sensitive and easily upset by the littlest things. What would showing him this even do to the sunny trait? itd horrify him hed be so devastated you cant do this to- His wound throbbed painfully, making him whimper and snapping him back to the urgency of his decision. i need help NOW

Swallowing his guilt, Anxiety pushed himself to his feet, biting down against a groan of pain as he put weight on his leg.

shit theres probably muscle damage and youre gonna be permanently disabled and everyones gonna know about this and theyll hate you

He stifled his breath in his hoodie sleeve as he limped silently from his room, making sure the coast was clear before pushing out into the hall. Morality was two doors down, he'd have to pass Logan to get there.

h es gonna hear you you need to be quieter dont disturb him DONT USE THE WALL FOR SUPPORT YOULL GET BLOOD ON IT just keep it together youre almost there

It felt like hours before he was at Patton's door, hesitating to knock even as he felt his pants soaking with blood. is this really worth bothering him ab-

The door swung open and Patton nearly crashed into Anxiety standing in the door. "Woah! Hey there kiddo! I was just gonna go down to the kitchen to get a midnight..." Patton's chipper demeanor faltered as he actually looked at the boy standing in front of him. He went white as a sheet. "...snack."

Anxiety's hair was disheveled, the bags under his eyes were darker than usual, and his expression was pinched in pain. Oh and he was covered in blood. There was so much blood. "Hey dad... sorry to bother you." Anxiety was shaking like a leaf and his voice was so small. As he spoke, a couple fat tears rolled down his cheeks. "I fucked up."

Patton instantly became serious. Without a word he stepped aside and guided Anxiety into his room, offering him the comfy arm chair he used for reading. Anxiety just stood and stared at the chair, eyes wide. He opened his mouth to protest but Patton held up a hand to silence him. "Son, sit in the chair. I can't help you if you're standing."

Anxiety hesitated a moment more before nodding and limping over to the chair to sink into its fluffy cushions. Any other time Anxiety would've fought to sit in this chair, but now he felt like he was just ruining it and it made him feel claustrophobic with how plush it was. Morality didn't even have to prompt him to remove his jeans before he was shimmying out of them, holding back from crying out in pain. The tears hadn't stopped flowing down his cheeks, and it was taking a surprising amount of effort to keep from erupting into full out sobbing.

While Anxiety had been fighting with his blood soaked skinny jeans, Morality had gone and produced a first aid kit and was kneeling in front of the chair. He was still white as a sheet, but he was keeping it together.

"Anxiety, how did this happen?"

There it was, the question Anxiety had known was coming the moment he even considered getting help. He swallowed thickly and stared at the wall. "I-I was, um, I did it. To myself. This was me." Shit his voice was shaking hard.

Patton blinked at the younger trait for a moment, brain momentarily short circuiting. "You mean you accidentally slipped with a knife in the kitchen? Cuz I've had some pretty close calls while opening packages and cutting potatoes, let me tell ya!" He smiled soothingly up at Anxiety as he swabbed the extra blood away from the wound, but it fell again when he saw him shake his head. "Were you working on one of those art projects? You know, the little models? I've seen Logan working on a couple of those and he's had to cut some pretty tough materials. Pretty easy to slip up."

Again, Anxiety shook his head. He couldn't look Morality in the eye, so he closed his before he could find his voice. "No, I did this. Intentionally. It was, um. It was on purpose." He swore inwardly as more tears spilled down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, dad." And the first broken sob finally forced its way through. "I didn't mean for it to be this deep, I didn't mean to do this." Anxiety pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes to try to stop the flow of tears as his body shook with more sobs. "Please don't tell the others. It was an accident."

Patton felt his heart break for the boy sitting in front of him. That Anxiety would ever resort to this was shattering news for the empathetic trait, but he swallowed it down. He had to help him through this. He leaned up and took one of Anxiety's hands away from his face, devastated that he thought he had to hide like this. Even when he was right in front of someone he was trying to hide.

"Look at me, son." Anxiety flicked his gaze to meet Patton's before it wandered away and back again. "You're gonna be just fine. I'm not mad at you, and I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to. You're gonna be good as new in no time, alright?" He could feel the blood soaking through the gauze he was holding, but he kept his voice soft and his gaze sure until Anxiety nodded. "There ya go, kiddo." He smiled supportively up at the youngest trait before he set about properly staunching the bleeding.

It took a lot of gauze and an ace bandage to keep pressure before the wound stopped bleeding. Anxiety's jaw hurt from gritting his teeth to keep from crying out while pressure was applied, and now he was just tired. He hadn't stopped crying until the bleeding stopped and he felt secure that he was not, in fact, going to bleed to death in Morality's comfy chair.

Now Morality was cleaning himself up and trying to sort out what to say to the injured boy. The boy who called him Dad and was starting to fall asleep in his comfy recliner. The boy who threw insults and jabs as easily as Patton could roll out a pun. His head spun with guilt. How hadn't he noticed that Anxiety was so upset? It was probably his own optimistic nature that had blinded him to any problems. He looked back over at the dozing trait and frowned. He had to fix this.

"Anxiety?"

"Hmm?"

"You know you can come to me, right? About anything?"

Anxiety opened his eyes and looked over at Morality, confused. "Obviously. You're the one I came to, right?"

Morality tried not to grumble at the boy's obliviousness. "Yes you did, and I'm very glad you did. But, you can come to me even if it isn't an emergency. If you just wanna talk or hang out, I'm here. You know that right?"

Anxiety blinked at him a couple times before breaking eye contact. "Yeah, I know. Thanks Dad." The atmosphere had suddenly become too heavy for Anxiety's liking, and he started pushing himself up out of the chair before he felt a hand push him back down into the seat. He blinked at Morality as he lowered back into the cushions.

"I'd be more comfortable if you slept here tonight, Anxiety. You gave me a good scare." It was Patton's turn to avert his gaze this time. He didn't want to ask too much of Anxiety, but he'd be lying if he said he was ok leaving him alone tonight.

Thankfully, Anxiety understood, and simply nodded as he eased back in the chair. "Fair enough. So what's the plan then? Movie marathon?" Anxiety smirked slightly, meaning the suggestion as a joke, but Patton instantly lit up and ran to get a small collection of dog movies from the main room -they'd had a pretty ruff night. Anxiety sighed and let his eyes close. His leg was still throbbing painfully and he was exhausted and really wanted nothing more than to curl up in his own bed. But he understood that he had just scared the crap out of the headspace's father figure and he owed him at least peace of mind.

Anxiety was asleep by the time Patton returned.

[plusultrachaos]

i sometimes wish id never been born at all

prompt: dan, one day, wishes hed never been born. he is then visited by a "ghost" (another youtuber) who shows dan everybodys lives if he was never born. dan doesnt believe that anything is worse off until they show phils life which is simply a gravestone.

A/N: i did change somethings from the prompt. i also envisioned the prompt as something similar to the Scrooge.

word count: 2113

genre: angst and if you squint fluff

tw: there are mentions and a viewing of two suicides (the viewing is against dans will  and is only on one of two suicides) there are mentions of depression and bullying. if this is something that could trigger, harm, or cause you pain of any kind, i recommend not reading this oneshot.

________________

its one of dans bad days. its one of the bad days where hes trying to be social, at least talk to phil some, maybe a bit of action on social media, before his inevitable departure from society and hopefully his own exsistance for a little while.

while hes browsing on said social media, he feels phil leaning toward him and picking something from under dans eye, pulling his hand away to reveal a small, thick eyelash.

"howd you even notice that, phil?" his voice was soft, fond, and holding no surprise at phils ability to notice the little details.

"make a wish and i might tell you." phil wore a teasing smile as he failed to wink, the corners of his mouth crinkling, showing the smile wrinkles that had developed as the years of their friendship passed.

'i wish i were never born' was the wish dan had made, he wanted to go hide away, hide the wish hed made in his brain to echo there for hours. everybodys lives would be better, easier, if he hadnt been born in the first place, all the haters wouldnt have to hate him in the first place. phil would probably be further in life. his family wouldnt have him as a disappointment.

"i have to go to my room." he looked at phil, whos face was still in  sort of close proximity to his own face. he didnt say why, or what he was going to do once in there, but phil knew him well enough to understand why the younger man had been quiet the entirety of him being up and out of his room, why he hadnt laughed at a single funny thing that phil had shown him.

"okay. remember to drink water and come out of there when you need food, okay?" phils eyes held the usual, useless, concern that dan knew phil didnt actually feel. dan wasnt worth the concern and he definitely did not deserve the concern or a friend like phil at all.

he nodded, knowing that if phil didnt actually see dan out of the room to get food or water, hed personally bring the food and drink to dan. dan got up and numbly left the lounge for his room. he left his laptop there, knowing he wouldnt need it the next few days or so.

he collapsed on his bed, his thoughts going on about him being worthless and a disappointment, along with other degrading things. he turned his phone off, setting it on his nightstand. he curled up into a ball and became even more numb to the world. when he fell asleep? dan wouldnt have been able to tell you.

when dan woke up, it felt weird. it felt like what his lucid dreams used to feel like when  hed been a kid. he also didnt feel as he did when he assumed hed fallen asleep, furthuring the feeling of this being weird and unusual. well, those things, and the youtube god himself, pewdiepie, or felix as hed told dan and phil to call him when theyd met up in the past, standing at the end of dans bed.

"felix? why are you in my room?" he was slightly creeped out. he only ever really saw felix at youtube events anymore, and even then, it wasnt much.

"i know who this felix person is, but i am not him. i am the ghost of youtubers past." felix, or rather the ghost, said, the voice was eerily similar to felix' and it creeped dan out further. "recently, youve wished for something along the lines of never being born at all, am i correct to say this?"

"yeah, but hold up, why in bloody hell are you in my -me and phils- flat? howd you even get in?" dan looked confused, he was staying as far as he possibly could be from felix, or the ghost or whatever the fuck it was, which meant he was huddled against the headboard of his bed. "what has my stupid eyelash wish have got to do with any of this?"

"daniel, im here to show you how your friends and family would have really been if you hadnt been born. you see, your thoughts after the wish, about everybody being better off without you, were mostly wrong. your family, that thought, was the only one that was partially correct. yes, if they didnt have you as their son, all of the things that you think they think of you would disappear, but they would have still had two children. your grandma wouldve been just as close with them as she was to you." then suddenly, at the end of the ghosts words, dans room transformed, his fairylights  and comfortable bed morphing into something else. all dan could do was watch.

his surroundings had changed into a huge decorated and lit up christmas tree with wrapped gifts underneath. there were two children, a teenaged girl and a younger boy, perhaps a toddler, pulling at a christmas cracker. when the young boy ended up getting the bigger end of the game, the older sister said "happy christmas!" with fondness that made dans heart ache. the siblings looked close, and happy. happier than dan and his younger brother had been at those ages.  it made dan long for that kind of relationship with the lad. it also brought a bitter taste and thoughts to dan. the girl, for obvious reasons, wasnt dan. their mannerisms very  different, her smile lacking a dimple.

"yazzy, go help your mum in the kitchen." an old woman, that dan immediately recognized as his (or rather not his) grandma, walked in to the room. he hadnt visited the kind, aging woman in years, and seeing this made him feel guilty.

he turned to the ghost, tears forming and wetting his eyes. "can we leave? i already knew i was insignificant in their lives." he said this, his voice small as he looked away from the scene playing out before him. the ghost nodded and then they were in a different location once again.

it was his friend, louises current home. but it was empty, no baby toys or anything in the flat hed gotten used to being busy.

"louises success mightve been all her, but you helped in the process, being there when she needed a friend. she didnt have darcy because she never met her partner." the ghost said this with a grim look. dan looked around, sad eyes gazing everywhere. it was then he realized he hadnt rung up louise in weeks.

"fuck..." was dans whispered response to the situation.

the location faded again, taking them to a park. pj sat on the bench in front of dan and the ghost. he was talking to people that dan didnt recognize. "pj and chris never became a couple because you werent there to help them realize their feelings for each other." dan looked down at the ghosts words. they stung, knowing his friends hadnt gotten together just because dan hadnt been born.

" and chris? what would his fate have been if id never been around?" the ghost pointed at a man walking behind them, talking on the phone. he didnt spare pj a single look.

"without your constant encouragement, he dropped youtube. he got an office job and quickly climbed the ranks." the words sounded sad.

the location changed yet again, to a sight he never wanted to see again. they were in an unfamiliar bedroom, it was dark and there was an even darker silhouette hanging from a ceiling fan. dan feared the worst. the sight of it made dan want to curl into a ball. there was pounding on the closed door.

dan watched in silence, mouth open in a silent cry as the parents of the silhouette opened the door. the mother fell into the fathers arms, crying loudly. the father was frozen, terror shining in his eyes as he took in the sight of the cold and lifeless body. the  room faded into a plain, white room that had no soothing qualities to dan.

"that was ben. in a world with you in it, he would have found the courage to come out as a transmale and gay. without you, he never learned of his parents acceptance. he wouldve committed suicide if not for your videos." the ghost said this softly, its eyes sad. "this is the sad reality of the fans. some are not in good situations and so they turn to youtube for an escape. without your videos, a lot of fans dont have that escape." dans face grew even more sad as he realized that had been the same reality that he had faced before becoming a youtuber.

"and phil? what would have happened to him?" this question had been on his mind the entire time they had been in this weird dreamland. the ghosts already sad face saddened even more and the scenery changed once again.

dan looked confused as his eyes wondered around the area. they were in a graveyard in the middle of the day. except dan couldnt see any services being held that phil wouldve attended.

"where is he? why are we in a graveyard?" his questions were frantic as he continued searching for the wonderous blue-yellow-green eyes and the dyed black hair of his best friend. then his gaze landed on the gravestone of the grave they were in front of. he dropped to his knees, his face blank as he read the stone.

Here lies

Philip Michael Lester

January 30th, 1987-June 22nd, 2012

He was loved dearly by fans, friends, and family.

"phil didnt have a number one fan to skype him to take his mind off his problems, to correct him when he thought of how weird he was and how weird everybody was bound to think of him."

"unique. phil is unique, not weird." dan corrected without hesitation.

"that is what i mean when i say that. he didnt have somebody to do that when youtube comments started telling him he was weird. he didnt have someone to be an iconic duo with. he killed himself when it all got to be too much." the ghost went quiet after telling that to dan, most likely letting the man grieve his best friend.

dan had started sobbing loudly. "n...no no no. take me home, this cant be real, this is not real." he whimpered, his eyes were screwed shut as he sobbed over the possibility of his optimistic, cheery best friend taking his life. he missed the transformation of the landscape, still sobbing loudly by the time hed been back in the comfort of his bedroom.

the ghost was no longer there and there was loud knocking. and to dans relief, phil called out his name with concern that dan was now certain was genuine. phil came in, rushing to the side of the monochrome bed to take the brown haired crying man into his arms. he knew better than to ask what was wrong right away, so he just held him.

"phil, promise me you wont believe people when they say hateful things toward you?" he asked this in a panicked rush, his words stuttered as he looked with terrified eyes at phil.

" i promise." phil held dan close, the sound of his heartbeat tethering dan to reality.

"i had a dream." dan proceeded to tell phil about what hed wished and then about the dream he had afterward. when he was done, phil held him. dan was still crying, but it had subsided a lot with the knowledge of phil being alive. "im sorry, phil. i know i shouldnt have wished for something so morbid and sad, but it was before an episode and i cant control my thoughts during those." he cuddled to phils chest, sniffling.

" dan, you know i love you. you know im always going to be here to support and comfort you." phils voice was soft and supportive, deep unlike what the viewers usually heard. "you dont have to apologize at all for the way your brain works, just like i dont. im glad you realized that that wasnt real, but i dont want you thinking that i wouldve been better off without you because i wouldnt be as far as i am today if i didnt have you by my side. dont ever tell yourself otherwise." he smiled his amazing smile that was saved just for dan.

dan leaned into phils chest, breathing in the comforting scent.   he sighed as he realized that life would be better with him and phil still alive.

____________________

i did end up mentioning dans family, but i only did briefly dont hate me.

[celestialjoon]

Beautiful Disasters

|2|

Chapter: 1/?

Pairing: Celestia!Yoongi/Reader

Genre: Angsty kinda thing with a tiny pinch of ‘smut’

Warnings: [PG:15] Implied masturbation ::::::::))))) 

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: finAlly!! About the first 5 paragraphs of this was all handwritten and stored away in my notebook from like 2-3 months ago and i finally copied it down into a doc and here we are !! I’m gonna tag my bby @rainyseok (My apologies if it’s a little bit messy.

    The trees shook violently in fear of the wind. Scattered leaves, broken branches, and grass trampled into a muddy green sea. The tears of the rage filled and broken angels drown the lesser while the “greater’ bathe in the sorrow that they themselves had caused.

    And they felt no remorse.

    They were much too preoccupied to take notice of the small child with horrific gashes and bruises scattered across his skin. The boy weeped stars and screamed galaxies. His very breath was a world unknown.

    His world had been ripped away from his tiny fingers so forcefully he was left in a delirious state of mind. Everything was much too simple here, The air bland, and the world full of grey. It was driving him mad.

The one thing that was most prominent in his screaming was a sentence hed live by for the rest of his life.

    “There is beauty in simplicity.”

    His screams turned to whispers. The sentence was like a song he couldn’t get out of his head. Over and over he cried these words.

    It was the only thing that kept him sane. He looked for beauty in the smallest places. The fractures in stones, the dust in the air, even in secluded spaces with no inhabitants. He travelled for years on end; sometimes forgetting what he was searching for.

    What was he searching for?

    He continued his seemingly meaningless exploration for 17 years; sadness prominent in his broken down aura. Until he found something.

    It had been exactly 17 years, 3 months, 6 days, 2 hours, 18 minutes, and 13 seconds when he finally found the beauty he yearned for. That he craved.

    His star coated soul suddenly felt replenished and the pieces he had carelessly dropped came flying back into place.

    The beauty he saw was you. You were a fresh breath of air that he so desperately needed. With an aura that resembled the moon; you were a mysterious being indeed. You were full of colour, excitement, and joy.

    But you were also filled with a darkness that was buried deep within your very being.

    In the midst of a crowd, you stood out. Your radiant essence a contrast to everyone else. He found himself completely infatuated with you. Your every move like an ocean wave crashing down onto a sandy beach. Your eyes filled with undiscovered mysteries and all he wanted to do was uncover them. He wanted to know you. He wanted to feel you. Your skin looked so perpetually soft and he was in stand still as life continued around him. The world that was so full of grey was suddenly full of vibrance and it leaked from every part of your body. The world was a canvas and you were the painter.

    He found his feet moving without permission; his body wanting the colour that effortlessly spilled from your bones. Before he knew it, you were in front of him and he was a black and grey mess behind you.

He couldn’t stop himself.

    He gripped your wrist with purpose and pulled you towards him. Your soft lips come in contact with his and his world is suddenly exploding with more colours and stars he had ever seen. He was in a blissful daze while you were confused as to why a complete stranger -an attractive one, you admit- was kissing you.

    You pulled away from him, and your hand came flying up to his face; coming into contact with a sharp smack. Your cheeks were a brilliant shade of red while one side of his face was slowly beginning to match you.

    “What do you think you’re doing?!” You finally speak.

    His eyes don’t give away anything as he stares at you and replies, “I… I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”  He says simply as if it were nothing.

    Before you could say another word, he vanished into the crowd. Bringing your fingers to your lips shakily, you stand in silence and the noise of other people dies away as you question what just happened. Did a beautiful and nameless stranger just come up and kiss you? Was it your imagination?

    Your still tingling lips tell you otherwise.

    Part of you was entranced and set on chasing after the man. But the more rational part of you, got you to turn around and continue on with your day.

After all, life was not a fan fiction. Soon, you forgot about him. His beautiful face clouded in your mind and he was pushed away to the back.

But he never forgot about you.

    Your face was etched into his brain and he often found himself in bed replaying the memories of that one kiss that let him finally see. His body cried for more, yet he didn't even know you. You were a stranger. But you were his savior.

He longed to go back out and find you but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed in fear of rejection (which he knew for sure was coming).

    Two months had passed before he saw you again. Rather, you bumped into him and spilled your scorching coffee all over him. While you apologized profusely, he didn't say a word. He simply went up to the counter and asked for some napkins.

He hadn't even flinched at the contact of the hot liquid. While you were wiping up the mess on the floor, you didn't notice him go back up to the counter and order you another coffee.

Exactly how you liked it.

    How did he know? You thought.

    You stumbled over your words; a mix of apologies and thank yous. Why had both of your 2 encounters with him involve bittersweet awkwardness? It reminded you of cold coffee. A little odd but still good.

    Before you could stop to think, your lips moved on their own and they spoke words of, “Do you want to sit with me maybe?”

    Frightfully, you waited for his answer. You knew the answer before he spoke it.

    “We shouldn't..” There was a hint of sadness in his voice, but it was quickly buried under his lazy smile.

    “Maybe if we run into each other again.” He says simply. It was more of a promise rather than an empty statement.

You nodded in agreement, giving him a small okay.  

    Once again, the stranger was gone. As if he vanished into thin air. The small bell on the café door jingles as he leaves swiftly.

    As he leaves the warmth of the store, his heart ache for you grows. He doesn't even know you, yet the feelings you brought to him were so new and so intense. You were right there. Right in reach. Yet he pushed you away.

He was waiting for one more time.

One more encounter.

It was so he knew that it was more than a coincidence.

    The rain began to fall as he left the café; his black hair now wet and plastered against his forehead. He wanders the city aimlessly, thinking about what to do now.

Finally finding himself under a bridge, he sits down in the wet grass and watches as the water from the sky falls to meet with the water on the earth; becoming one with each other.

    He looks up to the sky and closes his eyes, letting the water trickle on his face. He missed home. He missed the colours, the comfort, his family. But he could never go back. He had walked too close to the edge and ultimately came tumbling down with a cry for help that he never received. He had only been 7 years old when he hit the earth and spilt his star-filled blood on the ground. It was hard to believe it had been 17 years already.

    Opening his eyes, they shimmer with colours unimaginable. He was truly an ethereal being. With a tongue of silver and hair as black as the night, his skin was as beautiful as the milky way and he seemed too good to be true. His nimble fingers shakily lowered to the ground and he dug his nails into the soft, damp soil.

He focused on the moment; simply wishing for peace in his raging storm of a mind. The world was full of grey as the rain came down. The clouds hazy and the distant city colourless. Everyone who walked past was either stained with this bleak shade or they were too young to yet feel the pain of the colourless needle.

    He wanted the colour to come back. But he knew the only way to have the colour was to find you and he could not take the risk of draining you of your unique essence. He wondered if he would ever see you again. This may have been the very last time your paths would cross and he simply let you go.

    He shut his eyes tightly and screamed to the sky, tears streaming down his face as he’s overcome with emotions; frightening other walkers as they passed.

    Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

    He felt utterly broken at the mere thought of never seeing you, a stranger, ever again. He knew this wasn’t right. He knew this was exactly like something in a fictional story, yet he could not help himself from wanting you all to himself. A beautiful white flower. You were pure; unstained from the world’s disasters. The only thing that had managed to touch you was the hands of god himself, if there was a god.

He didn’t know.

But there must be if you were on this earth at the same time as him.

    His outburst died off and he felt sick to the stomach. It was a mix of butterflies erupting from his throat and an overwhelming urge to vomit (which he did).

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing dirt on his cheeks in the process, and got to his feet. He needed to get back to his apartment and sleep. It had been over 72 hours since he’d last slept and it was starting to take its toll on his body.

    He began his walk back to his small but homey apartment and the rain died down. He felt numb to everything. He’d lost track of how many people he collided with as it no longer mattered to him. His eyes were dull and no longer glimmered the way they used to 17 years ago. His face was expressionless. All except for the small frown that permanently stitched his lips into place. It had been that way since he could remember.

    It took him about an hour to get to his apartment that was decorated in green vines and white flowers. He let out an audible sigh of relief as he unlocked the gate and made his way up the weathered stone steps full of cracks. Once he got inside, he made his way up to his floor; resting his head on the old wood as he found the gold key covered in rust to unlock his room.

    He shut the door, closed his eyes and slid down to the ground, bringing his hands to his face. He was an overtired wreck and could probably fall asleep right then and there. Nonetheless, he managed to drag himself to his bed and throw the blanket and sheet over his tired body. Almost instantly, he fell into a deep slumber; his dreams full of emptiness and grief. He forced himself to stay awake for days on end to escape the nightmares he faced when the world went into darkness. But this time, he had to sleep. Even if it was just for a few hours. He longed for the day where he could sleep peacefully with no dreams to disturb him. But would that day ever come?

    He hoped it would.

    He dreamt of his past. Mostly the part where he was falling. He was stuck in the darkness as it ate him up; turning his body cold and crushing his heart under the pressure of its tight grip. He clawed at his throat, attempting to pry away whatever was preventing air from flowing to his lungs. The darkness whispered beautiful things in his ears until he woke with a start; drenched in a cold sweat from both the night terror and the blankets that were tangled around him, keeping him hostage.

    It was only a dream..

    He attempted to soothe his racing heart from beating its way out of his chest. He took deep, slow breaths. In, out, in, out.

It worked only slightly. This one felt much more real than others and he was absolutely petrified. He could still feel the chill in his spine. The kind that would rush through you and be gone with. But the cold was like pins and needles along his back and goosebumps rose to the surface of his skin.

    He rocked himself back and forth; his head in between his knees to help with the light headedness he was experiencing. His sweat dried for the most part, but he still felt disgusting. Both on the outside and the inside. The urge to vomit returned to him, but this time he withheld it. He didn’t feel like cleaning up the mess.

    His tired muscles ached and his head throbbed. The stench of sweat was something he couldn’t ignore for any longer.

    He needed a shower.

    He padded his way to the cramped bathroom, tugging off his shirt as he neared the door; tossing it behind him. He reached into the small shower stall and turned the knob to hot which then he proceeded to kick his leg out to shut the door.

Sitting down on the toilet, he waited for the water to heat up to his liking. It took much too long, in his opinion.

    When it was ready, he discarded the rest of his clothes. As soon as the hot water hit his back, he let out a sigh of relief. He stood for a few quiet moments under the water, letting it wash off the dried sweat and tears. His delicate hands reach for the shampoo bottle; rubbing the liquid into his raven hair with his fingers. He let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding as he massaged his scalp with the suds.

    The bubbles washed down his body and swirled into the drain. Part of him wishes that he could wash away to somewhere new, but he knew that couldn’t happen.

    His hands absentmindedly ran along his body, attempting to help speed up the soothing of his muscles when -oh. His fingers skimmed across his cock and he decided quickly that he should treat himself and indulge in the pleasure.

    The rest of the time he spent in the shower was full of breathy moans and needy whimpers until he finally found the release that made his bones ache and his legs quiver with pleasure.

    He was ready to begin his day.

[zom-zom8]

Dirty Little Secret

Sterek. I did  thing, and I hope whoever reads will like it. 

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

Stiles was sitting in bed sick, watching the Lakers vs. Chicago Bulls--or more specifically, Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was their best point guard in years, who also happened to be his boyfriend. He had silently cheered for him when they won, interviewers coming up to them post game.

Some news lady came up to him as the team was cheering and laughing together.

“So tell me, Derek, you have all this support from your teammates and fans, is there a certain fan you know has been cheering you on tonight?” still high on the adrenalin rush, Derek raised a sweaty eyebrow and smiled nervously.

“What do you mean, ‘certain fan’?” the news lady laughed.

“Do you have a girlfriend or significant other waiting for you when this is over?” catching Stiles’ attention, he sat up straighter and blew his nose one last time, eager for the answer.

Derek paused for a brief second, and Stiles held his breath They’d been talking about Derek coming out a year into their relationship, but the opportunity never came up until that night.

Derek then laughed and slung a towel over his neck. “No, there’s no one who is waiting for me. Hear that ladies,” he winked at the camera. “I’m all free.” the news lady laughed and started to ask him other things, but Stiles just zoned it out. He felt numb to the cores, and his chest ached. It felt like every single nightmare hed ever had was coming true. He felt embarrassed and shock.

It was one thing to say no, but to offer himself up while he was with Stiles, made him feel dirty, like a secret no one was supposed to know about, except some did. Stiles’ dad, and Scott knew. Derek’s parents and family knew.

He must have turned the TV off, because one minute he was upright with the light of the screen illuminating his face, and the next he was staring up at the ceiling with mucus and tears running down his face. He already couldn’t breathe because of him being sick, but between the mucus flowing out of him and the wrecked sobbs and dry heaving jolting his body, he couldn’t breathe.

He heard knocking at the door, and the it opening, praying with all his will, might and hope, that it wasn’t Derek. Thankfully, someone heard his calls of distress, because Scott appeared before him, leaning squatting down to look at Stiles’ face. A murderous yet concerning look was engraved on his face. Without speaking, Scott helped Stiles into a sitting position and started to wipe away the tears and snot.

After Stiles was able to somewhat breath. Scott climbed into bed beside him and held him, as silent tears stung his cheeks and his chest constricted so painfully he thought his heart was going to burst.

“It hurts.” Stiles gasped out, clinging to Scott like a lifeline. Scott soothed him and rubbed his back in small circles, just like his mother used to do.

“I know, but you need to sleep. You’re making your fever worse.” Stiles just snuggled closer to Scott, and let the emotional toll granted him the sweet release of sleep.

He woke up in hazy stages. One stage was when he heard Scott shouting. The next was when the door was opening, and Scott’s screaming got louder. The last was when Derek was standing at the foot of his bed, Scott shielding Stiles’ view.

“I told you, you need to fucking leave, or I’ll call the cops.” Derek’s eyes were sad and tired.

“Stiles, please listen, I wasn’t ready, and I was on the high of the win, and the question came out of nowhere-”

“Stop making excuses!” Scott interrupted. “You’re a fucking coward, and you need to leave. I had to hold his dad back from flying down here to kill you. If you don’t leave, you bet your sorry-ass that I’ll have you arrested, and how would that look on your career?” Derek’s eyes widened in shock, then became angry. He got right up in Scott’s face and sneered.

“Who the fuck do you think-” Stiles slowly sat up and had a coughing fit, bring both Scott and Derek back. Scott rushed to Stiles’ side and gave him water to sip. Stiles gave the water back to Scott and looked to the bedpost and the end of the bed, the closest he was willing to look at Derek.

“You need to leave, Derek.” Derek all of a sudden looked scared and he hurried to get closer to Stiles, but Stiles just put a hand up to stop him.

“Derek,” he took a shaky breath in, crushing Scott’s hand in his. “You need to leave, because if I have to be in the same rom s ou for another minute, I’ll throw up, then cry, then wish I was dead.” Derek reeled back like he’d been punched.

“Stiles, baby-” Scott got up from where he was sitting next to Stiles and stood in front of Derek again.

“I think it’s time for you to leave. You’ve hurt Stiles, and right now he needs love, not shame.” Derek shook his head vigorously.

“I’d never shame-” Scott laughed bitterly and cut Derek off again.

“Too late. Now leave, before you make him even sicker.” Derek took one last longing look over Scott’s shoulder at Stiles, before leaving through the doorway, Scott right behind him. As soon as he was out of the room, Stiles let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and started to cry again. Seconds later, Scott was right by his side, rubbing more circles in his back,and wiping away the tears as fast as they came.