#crying bc i’m scared i should’ve screamed in that doctor’s room.

[ultravioletlesbian]

also banging myself over the head i hate this here medical things so fun bonk bonk. today i found out for the first time i mean i really just never thought about it but i have a medical condition. a medical conditionnn i was going to the eye doctor every month like please😭

[aka-ashi-keiji]

“I didn’t mean to..”

shoto todoroki

one shot/ drabble, angst

tw: death, mentions of blood

a/n: still have a writers block so i’m just writing down whatever comes to mind on the first try :)

the screaming from hours ago still rang so clearly through his head. his eyes stung, but not from the smoke he caused, but from the tears he shed after he realized what he had done. a villian came too close, his right side already starting to frost over from over use. the ice was at its limit. fire was the only option to keep him safe.

Shoto’s flames erupted around him like wings of a phoenix, reaching out and creating distance between him and the danger. but little did he know that while he was kept from afar, danger crept closer and closer to you with every flicker of his light of anger.

You were already injured. your legs barely working, blood dripping from your mouth and the back of your head. you felt dizzy, your senses glossing over the chaos around you. but soon that chaos grabbed your body, it’s grip scorching and searing itself into your skin. your senses awakened, every molecule inside and out felt as if it had been lit on fire. and thanks to Shoto, they quite literally were.

He didn’t hear your screams until the villian had stopped struggling inside the ring of hell he created. his flames ceased, the smoke clearing and unveiling an image that will haunt his dreams for eternity.

you were still. too still. your hero costume was nearly completely melted, clinging to your skin disgustingly. your body was bared for the world, but shoto hardly took notice. his eyes only fixated on your face, the face of the person he swore to protect from all the flames of the world. when in the end, his flames were the ones you should’ve feared.

that was hours ago. shoto now sat in the hospital waiting room, praying for your doctor to come out and allow him to see you. you had to go into immediate surgery, barely anytime for shoto to say goodbye. a kiss to the back of your broken and burned had would have to suffice.

he paced. shoto’s hands ran through his bi colored hair as he paced the halls of the dreadful place of death and healing. his steps were slow but heavy, but still carried nothing but utter worry and guilt. and what do you know, his wish came true. your doctor came out, white lab coat pressed nicely and clipboard in hand. he looked so.. normal. as if he wasn’t just about to rip out Shoto’s heart and crush it right before his eyes.

“I’m sorry, we did everything we could. They told us to tell you that it’s okay, that they don’t blame you.”

you were gone. your heart had stopped mid surgery and the doctor tried absolutely everything to start it up again. Strange enough is that Shoto didn’t cry, he didn’t do anything at the initial given of information. it wasn’t until he was led to the room, your lifeless and cold sewn up body laid on the table as if to display his greatest sin to the world.

he didn’t cry until the nurses left him with you alone. he dropped to his knees silently, the weight of his guilt forcing him to the floor. screams ripped from his throat as he gripped your hand, the hand that would caress his face and whisper to him that it would be okay. but you couldn’t anymore. and it was his fault.

his cries were so loud, shoto knew this. but it didn’t stop him from grieving over something he knows was rightfully his fault. he didn’t care that you forgave him. not out of spite, but because he could never forgive himself.

“i’m sorry y/n i’m sorry!” he screamed.

“just open your eyes, talk to me. let me see that smile one more time please! I cant do this without you.” his words left his mouth at a mere whimper.

his head fell to your death bed as he slowly let go of your hand, scared his anger would bubble over and he might break your hand more than he already had. so instead he backed away. he backed up until his head hit a wall. he slid down it till he was seated on the floor of the room that smelt of sorrow and glass.

his tears didn’t come, worn out from life. his guilt continued to eat every ounce of will to live shoto had left. it destroyed him from the inside out, just like his flames had done. his guilt took everything from him until all that was left was the strength everyone saw.

his knees came tucked to his chest, his arms wrapping around securely. keeping himself together, sure he was falling apart. He looked up at your lifeless form one last time, taking in the evidence of his rage and power. his head found its way to his arms. Shoto completely tucking himself away from this reality he didn’t mean to create.

“I didn’t mean to..”

>>>

a/n pt:2: again i hate how this turned out, but hey this prompt was too good to pass up! it made me really sad to think about bc we know how shoto copes with pain :( anyways hope you enjoyed, kirishima angst is next ;)

••• tags!! @luluwiie

[shxxtingstarss]

stuff abt me

I contacted the psychiatric hospital where I had multiple stays and asked for a copy of my patient record, they sent it to me just two days after I requested it and it's a whole fucking folder, it's about 200 pages long (stopped counting at 50 and estimated the rest). Of course I had to read through it the day I got it and damn, that was a lot. Funniest part was how early all of the recommendations were to get me away from my abusive mother, which I wanted to, but it's funny how hard I tried to keep contact bc she manipulated me into thinking I'm the problem, I failed and it was all my fault (and I was scared as shit of her). Well, now im NC since last christmas and in general, it feels a lot better. She tried to contact me more than once and still wants an explanation on why I (currently) don't want any contact to her... well, kinda sorry but I really don't have the time to explain atm and you really, should know that best yourself...

My mother traumatised me and my brother for years, she was incapable of controlling any strong emotions like rage, sadness, etc or any impulses. She never accepted any help or treatment (properly). She had/has an ED, she intentionally made us be afraid of her in general, but especially afraid of her punching us, verbally abusing us or afraid of her mutilating or killing herself if we weren't "good kids" (her picture of good kids seemed to be kids that don't talk, eat, cry, or maybe even breathe). My favourite example of this is from a few years ago, she went to look for mushrooms in the forest and began to clean and cut them in the evening at home, when my brother had some kind of disagreement with her about... about nothing (probably school, cleaning his room, sth like that). She got angry and mad very fast (as per usual) and screamed at him that if he doesn't stop upsetting her like that, she will show him how upset she actually is. Few seconds later it got suspiciously quiet (I heard everything through my bedroom door). My brother started crying and ran to his room half crying half screaming as if he was in great pain. That was not the usual way it ended, usually it ended with more screaming and crying and my mother throwing things around (or occasionally beating one of us). I got out of my bedroom and wanted to know what happened, went to my brothers room, my mother was in the bathroom. I saw blood on the floor of the hall. My brother was under his blanket and had our grandma on the telephone and obviously tried to tell her what happened, he seemed extremely scared. I wanted to ask him what's wrong but my mother entered the room furiously and snatched the phone out of his hand. She started to tell grandma that he just imagined stories and nothing he told was true. She left the room talking to grandma on the phone, so I tried to care for my crying brother. He told me, gasping for air bc he cried so hard, that our mother just took the kitchen knife which she cut the mushrooms with and rammed it into her stomach. I forgot what happened afterwards, I probably dissociated bc it was too much, I can only remember hearing my mother leave, then I found the knife on the kitchen floor, full of blood, and cleaned the floor from all the blood droplets. My mother went to the hospital that night and had to stay there for three days. She told the doctors that she tripped and fell on the knife in the woods, I visited her on the second day and she told me to absolutely not tell the truth and stared at me with her devilish eyes that she gets when she's angry. The doctors said she barely missed her liver. I was really tempted to tell them the truth, I hoped she would've been brought to a mental facility and we could finally find peace, but I couldn't do it, I was too scared of her. And so the horror kept going on (especially for my brother). This happened when I was 14 and my brother was 11 years old. I sometimes think I could've changed everything for the better if I would've told the doctors - I got to get out of there around half a year later, but my brother stayed with her for another 5 years and I'm terribly sorry for him. My mother never changed for the better, he got beaten even more often, she started to get even more personal and aggressive and talked him down more and more in fights, I once heard a voice message from her to him and it was horrible. Can't explain how angry I am about her treating my little brother this way.

My brother often said he never really felt loved by her and I used to defense her in all ways possible bc that's how she raised me basically, I had to lie for her, I had to do everything for her. But now that I can actually think about it, I actually never felt loved by her either. I don't know if she loves/loved us and never managed to show it or if she didn't love us at all.

Back to my patient record, the weird part was, I felt something like a strange sympathy, I felt sorry for my younger me, I asked myself why all of this had to happen, especially to an innocent child. But I didn't ask this in the way I normally did, I really felt sorry like for another person instead of feeling sorry for me or being in despair about it. Don't know if that's good or bad, it just is like that.

I know I'm not a different person than then, but at least some things changed and sometimes I really wonder how I managed to do all of this while being strongly suicidal, not very self-caring (more like the opposite if I think about all the selfharm) and not having any support by "family". Luckily I got a lot of support from social workers, my therapist, and sometimes even friends (wasn't easy for me to be close to people/more than one favourite person, actually it still isn't).

Well, it's not done yet and I still feel like pure shit some days/weeks, and I still (or maybe again) have to get better. The stress of being a chem student is not very mental-health-supportive, even for the healthiest peeps. At least I know now that it's actually not my fault, I'm not a piece of shit as my mother loved to tell me as often as she could, I did not destroy my "family", I was not the problem. It was not my fault. I actually tried my best, it just wasn't enough sometimes.

So, let's hope I keep this up and maybe I'll write another post some time soon. Maybe I can even help some desperate soul out there that is being manipulated into thinking that everything bad happened bc of them. No. And yes, I fucked up sometimes, I'm far away from perfect too, that's perfectly normal. But I'm not the "mentally ill person that destroyed her new marriage", maybe she should've had a look in the mirror instead of looking at me.

[volgotha]

Holy shit I just read your text post I'm so sorry! How are people so easily sold on bullshit??? What happened that lead up to all that?

Okay, strap yourself in. I’m only typing this mess up once more and then I’m never mentioning it again as long as I live. I’m not going to tag it with anything relevant either so once its posted, i’m letting it get lost in the sea of reblogs. Here we go, warning; this is gon be long.

In 2006 I went to college. From 2006 to 2009 I hung out with 5 friends and my bf at the time, Andre. It was in 2007 that we started to poke our heads into the 2C11 room (the clubspace room). Matt and his best friend Jogn Carlo started coming with us to Rocky Horror, a thing only myself and two of my 5 friends would do together, along with ppl they knew from their old highschool. By 2009, we had formed a big gang of friends from the clubspace, and we all started going to movies and sushi together. One of my friends organize panels for Otakuthon, where we’d all meet up.      

But in 2009, two of the 5 ppl I hung out with had a falling out. They stopped being friends. One went to university, the other was around for one more year then she went to university in 2010. That’s when the old group began to change from a family to a clique: In 2010 new members joined the club, and became new staples in the old group–most importantly, a guy named Tin.

It used to feel like a big family, but when the new semester started in September 2010 and new members flooded the club, everything changed. Tin instantly gave me a strange feeling in my gut, like there was something off abt him I couldn’t articulate. Shannon was dating Alex, the then club president, who stepped down in disgrace after I and one of those 5 friends went to the student union to complain abt him being the Harvey Weinstein of the club,. He wanted to permanently ban her from the club bc that summer when he was making a shitty youtube movie, he asked her out and she said no. The only reason he stepped down is bc I helped her take it to the student union and took him down. So when 2010 came along, Tin swooped in and became Alex 2.0, and when I warned ppl abt him they didn’t listen.

Fast forward a year to 2011, and the shitstorm happens; My mom had bvee battling with cancer since 2009. She had a hysterectomy but it didn’t work, and the cancer came back with a vengance.

January 15th 2011: My mom comes into my room and tells me her doctor doesn’t give her 1 year left to live. A few minutes after she leaves my room, Tin talks to me on Steam. He starts trolling me, I exploded on him. I felt bad about it so I tried to apologise to him, and I wrote on my facebook wall a message: “Just found out my mom has a year left to live, not in my right head, plz stay away from me for a while” so i wouldn’t explode on anyone else. I said I tried to apologise to Tin on steam, because him being an abujsive sociopath, instead of just accepting the apology or not like a normal person, instead he starts demanding that i admit to being a shitdisturber. I ignore him at that point, tell him im sorry, wish him good night and then sign off steam, and go to bed.

The following day, Shannon heads me off as I’m in the 2C11 hallway heading to the clubspace room; she warns me that Kelly is having a shit fit and screaming about how much of a horrible person I am, that apparently Kelly thinks my facebook post is me using my mom as an excuse to get away with being a bitch. I run to confront her, because excuse me, no it fucking wasn’t yknow? and whatever trauma she hasn;’t resolved yet doesn’t give her the right to twist my meanings and paint me as a monster. Thats when she goes into the Oliver’s caf so I follow her, and she screams at me calls me pathetic and heads back into the clubspace, and everyone followed her and left me in the caf crying with Shannon and Alex. :/

The situation was made ten times worse later that night by a certain person named Mathew, remember him? He was supposed to be my friend. Instead, he took the opportunity to write a huge post on fb tearing me down, on which everyone else joined in taking a public jab at me. Matt was seen as the community leader at the time. He could have used his power to calm the situation down, instead he made things worse. To this day, I suspect that troll Tin is the one who twisted my words to trigger Kelly and cause all of this, and that he also had Matt in the palm of his hand, but i digress; Matt’s post convinced most of them to ditch me. That devastated me in an already overwhelmed state, and I attempted suicide a few nights later.

That summer, I saw that my former friends were all having a big party, “What Killed the Dinosaurs? The Bad Movie Night.”, and I wasn’t invited. Shannon saw how much it hurt me, so she invited to her bf’s party instead, and that’s where I met Paul.

The following school year of 2011-2012 went by without much incident. The people who had ghosted me slowly added me back, Matt even apologized for his shit, and things seemed to be on the up and up. It looked like all this drama was behind us. I was wrong.

After I graduated, I decided to go visit the club in Fall 2012. Big mistake.

I saw someone I knew, Sarah, crying on someone’s lap, and asked her what was up. She told me she was in an abusive relationship with Tin. For giving her the advice to leave him, Tin came at me on steam again, and I told him that he was an abuser, that he would not intimidate me and to go fuck himself, and I blocked him. Suddenly, Matt was trying to extort 100$ from me for 2 locks I had broken the year before, which should’ve only cost 42$. Where did that come from? Well, Tin was the club’s Treasurer that year. He was trying to get back at me for standing up to him and helping his victim escape, and he was doing it through Matt, who was going apeshit on me on MSN for refusing to pay 100$. I insisted I should only have to pay what I owe, which was 42$. He kept freaking out on me, so finally I threatened to get a lawyer involved, and that’s when he backed down. I still paid the money I owed for the locks I had broken but I blocked Matt, having had enough of his bullshit, and that’s when suddenly a bunch of ppl from the group ghosted me for good.

Why was I ghosted when Matt was clearly the one in the wrong? Because Tin. They ghosted me bc Tin told them to. Tin and Matt told them all sorts of shitty things about me and they believed them. They don’t hold Tin or Matt to any of their shitty actions though bc they don’t want the same abuse that happened to me to happen to them. They turn a blind eye to every shitty thing Tin and Matt do. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand there’s an extremely toxic abuse dynamic at play in that group.

But the story doesn’t end there. Remember that party I went to with Shannon, and that guy I met named Paul? From november 2011 to march 2015 we were together. I was isolated from whoever was left, only hung out with him and his friends. In 2014, I became close friends with a girl name d Ariel, a member of that old groiup who ghosted me. But that was probably a manufactured relationship manipulated into existance by Paul, so he could jump to her when he was done with me.

Paul was extremely abusive when no one was around. The night he left, we had a huge fight. I tried to escape the situation by running upstairs. He chased me and when I ran into my TV room and closed the door behind me, he started pounding on it and trying to push his way in. When he did manage to get through the door, I panicked, picked up a glass bottle and threw it at him, and then slammed the door again when he backed out. The bottle broke, and cut his finger very deep. He used that cut to get everyone present during the situation on his side. Nevermind all the crazy abusive stuff he had just pulled in front of them, no, I was the bad guy, and once he had them convinced, he left to my then bff’s house, who later became his new gf.

He posted a picture of the wound on facebook, and because of that and previous drama from years ago that never really went away, most of the friends I had left from Dawson believed him, and ghosted me. I couldn’t tell them that a week earlier he had raped me, and that’s why I was scared enough to throw that glass bottle at him.I filed a police report, I warned everyone who would listen to me about him, and I warned her. I did all I could.

 I was too scared to tell this story for such a long time, because if asking for understanding while my mom was dying was twisted into me using my mom as an excuse to get away with being a bitch, then asking for understanding for the outbursts I had after being raped would just be twisted into me using my rape as an excuse to get away with being a bitch. I couldn’t handle the idea of my rape being trivialized as just some excuse–and Mathew is in part responsible for it all, because of that fucking post he made publicly tearing me down. Had he not posted that, I would’ve never lost my support system, I would’ve never gone to that party with Shannon, and I would’ve never been raped.

So I spent the better parts of 2016-2018 telling those involved off for their part in my current situation and blocked them, and the rest rebuilding what I had back in 2009, with resounding success. 

So, there you have it. That’s what happened. Fuuuuuuuucking insane isn’t it. Its over now, none of them can hurt me anymore and Ive once again surrounded myself with friends I can actually trust, so everything’s good now. I still have my low days bc this was yknow, a lot, but I’m doing much, muuuuch better now. 

[trilliastra]

Anon bc my sterek blog is a side blog but - those prompts, omg. They're all so good! Maybe start with #7?

7. Is that blood?” “No?” “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

[I’m sorry, this wasn’t supposed to be sad but my brain works in a weird way]

-

Stilesknows many things, some useful other not so much, but what he doesn'tknow is how to properly use a hammer. Now, one might say if you don't know how to use a hammer, then don't try to use it, but Stiles is stubbornand – as his dad sometimes points out – a little stupid.

“Ah,shit.” Stiles yells, dropping the hammer on his desk. Great, nowhe has a scratch on his desk and a broken finger.

“Stiles,what is –” his dad shows up at the door, the burger he'ssupposed to be grilling for dinner in his hand, “fucking hell, isthat blood?”

Stilesbites at his lip to hold back another curse. Damn, it hurts. “No?”

Hisdad strides into the room, glaring between Stiles and the desk. “That's not a question you're supposed to answer with anotherquestion.” He sighs, inspects Stiles' hand. “Come on, I'll driveyou to the hospital.”

Stilessighs too. Yeah, maybe he's more than a littlestupid.

–

Melissadoesn't laugh when Stiles shows up at the hospital and shows her hisbloodied finger, but her lips curl up and she gives his dad anexasperated sigh before guiding Stiles to the emergency room. “Do Iget a lollipop after this?” He asks her, barely suppressing awhimper when she begins to wipe the blood.

Shedoesn't answer, cuffs him on the back of the head instead and tellshim the doctor will be there in a second to stitch him up. “Don'ttry to hurt the other finger!” She says, turning around.

Stilesglares at her retreating back and makes a mental note to call Scottand tell him his mother is mean.

Thewait takes longer than a second and Stiles kind of wishes he hadremembered to grab his phone before his dad manhandled him inside thecar. As it is he walks around the room, looking for stuff to distracthim but won't cause any more damage. See, dad? He can be responsible.

He'sreading a pamphlet about gonorrhea when the doctor finally shows up. “Sorry.”He apologizes. “We had an emergency with a kid. So you hurt yourfinger?”

Ah,shit. This cannot behappening.

WhenDerek looks up and recognizes him, Stiles shakes his head and says,“ah, shit.”

–

The thingis – Stiles wasn't supposed to be living with his dad aftercollege. He had plans, big and beautiful plans. He was going to askhis boyfriend to move in with him, they'd get an apartment togetherand then some years later a house for the kids. They'd get marriedand live happily ever after with each other.

And then one morning, his boyfriend was gone, taking Stiles’ plans and his heart with him.

“Ididn't know you were living here.” Derek says, still standing onthe same spot near the door.

“Movedback.” Stiles mumbles. “You too?”

“Yeah.”Derek says. “I'm finishing my residency.”

“That'snice.” Stiles says and means it. Derek always wanted to be a doctorand Stiles agrees that he's amazing at it. “And I'd love to hearmore about it but I'm kind of still bleeding here.”

Derek'seyes widen as if he'd forgotten where they were. “Oh, right.” Hemoves quickly to take a look at Stiles' finger and Stiles has to restrain himself from flinching away when Derek toucheshis hand. “Can you move it?”

“Yeah,”Stiles says, gritting his teeth when Derek touches the cut, “but ithurts like a motherfucker.”

Dereksnorts. Stiles wishes he wasn't looking down, he always liked Derek'ssmile. “I will give you something for the pain, if you want.”

“That'dbe good.” Stiles says and tries not to think about all the timesDerek took care of him when he was sick.

It's beensix months and it still hurts.

He watchesDerek working, face focused and hands steady, like he's done this amillion times. And he probably has, Stiles wouldn't know, but God,he wishes he did.

“There.”Derek says as he finishes dressing the wound. “Try to keep it dryand change the dressing twice a day.” He keeps saying, his backturned to Stiles as he disposes of the gloves and the bloodiedcotton. “You can come back in two or three weeks to –”

“Why?”Stiles blurts out. “You owe me at least an answer.”

Hewatches Derek's back stiffen, braces himself for the words eventhough he still doesn't feel ready for the truth. If Derek foundsomeone else he – doesn't know how he's going to react.

“Iowe you?” Derek asks. He turnsaround, stares at Stiles angrily. “How about you tell me why youwere pulling away? Why you weren't telling me where you were goingevery other morning? Why you were lyingto me?”

“What?”Stiles stands up, narrowing his eyes at him. “I was looking for ajob!”

“See?”Derek gestures at him. “You can't even tell me the truth now!”

“Whatthe fuck?” Stiles shakes his head, realizes he's screaming at ahospital but he really can't stop. Derek can't be twisting thisaround to blame him.Stiles wasn't the one who walked away in the middle of the night withthe only explanation being a note saying 'live your life'.“Why did that bother you so much? Why did you fucking walk awayinstead of talking to me about that?”

“Itried!” Derek says back. “But you kept saying you needed moretime to tell me, that it would 'make sense later'.” Derek snorts,humorless. “And you know what? It didmake sense later when I saw you getting out of that apartmentdowntown with a woman.” Stiles blinks, tries to remember what thehell Derek is talking about. “You wanted an out so I gave you anout.” Derek says. “Are you enjoying it with her?”

“Areyou fucking kidding me?” Stiles yells, reaches out for an unusedbag of cotton and throws it at Derek's perfect face, he bats it awayeasily but Stiles still feels a sense of victory when Derek's eyeswiden comically at his outburst. “I was looking for an apartment tolive with you!” He says, stalking towards Derek and punching hischest with his non-injured hand. “The one I was going to tell you about onour anniversary dinner.” Derek opens his mouth and Stiles can heara soft 'oh' escapinghis lips. “Yeah, remember that one? No, because you didn't showup!”

“Iwas studying!”

“Iknow!” Stiles groans, frustrated. It's not about that.“And I admired you for that! But you can't accuse me of cheating onyou just because I wasn't around much when you were doing the exactsame thing!”

Derektakes a step back, expression dazed, like Stiles had just punched himin that beautiful stupid face. “I didn't –”

“What?You didn't think about it?” Stiles cuts, anger finally starting tosubside and being replace with hurt. Derek really didn't trust him,huh? “Or you just didn't trust me?” When Derek's about to answer,Stiles shakes his head. “No, forget it.” It's too late now. Toomuch. “I thought wefelt the same, but apparently I was wrong.” And damn, that makeshis heart ache even more. Stiles poured his everything into theirrelationship, but Derek didn't even trust him enough to start aconversation. To try to fix things. “Thanks for the finger.”Stiles turns around but realizes he can't go without sayingeverything he has to. “I really loved you, you know?” He closeshis eyes when he feels about to cry. “I still do.” Hewhispers to himself and finally, finally,walks away.

–

Hisdad doesn't ask what happened, only looks at him curiously and drivesthem home. When they walk into the house, Stiles immediately pullshim into a hug and just lets himself feel the comfort of being withfamily. “Is everything okay?” His dad finally asks, patting hisback affectionately.

“No.”Stiles answers. “But it will be. Just –” he doesn't finish, buthis dad understands anyway and tightens his hold, letting Stiles cryon his shoulder.

–

Stilesis dozing off on the couch when the doorbell rings. Years of being acop's kid make him stand up immediately, only to relax when he seeshis dad walking down the stairs.

“Whatthe –” he says, opening the door cautiously, “fucking hell,kid. Do you know what time is it?” He doesn't wait for the personto answer, just turns to Stiles and says “you deal with this, I'llgo back to bed”, pats Stiles' shoulder in a way that says hedefinitely won't be sleeping any time soon and walks back to hisroom.

WhenStiles takes a look outside and sees Derek standing at the door,looking completely devastated,he wonders if it's too late to go back to sleep.

–

“Iwas scared.” Derek says as soon as Stiles closes the door behindthem. “I've always been scared.”

“Ofwhat?”

“Oflosing you.” Heanswers, turning to Stiles with wet eyes. “I'm – I'm not goodenough. I've never been – worthy of you.”

“Whatthe fuck?” Stiles rolls his eyes, taking Derek's shirt and slamminghim against the door. “Am I some fucking princess? You don't get todecide who's good for me! I do!”

“Butthat's the thing!” Derek says, slumping against the door. “Ithought you did! I thought you decided I wasn't good enough! And youwere preparing me for the end.” He closes his eyes, taking deepbreaths. Stiles watches him try to calm himself down and waits,angry, confused. “You were pulling away, talking more about yourfriends, about going on vacations, wanting to climb a mountain. I'm –I'm not like that. Inever was. I just thought – that was the end, you know? That wasthe limit of where we could go together.”

Stiles feels himself breaking and lets go of Derek's shirt only to slump against his chest. “Youidiot.” He whimpers. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”He whispers, feels the tears beginning to drop. He can't believe he'sthe cause of this, the cause of Derek's suffering, of his ownsuffering. He can't believe he let Derek think he wasn't good enough,even though he is. Heis everything. “I didn't – I never –”

“I'msorry too.” Derek says, arms circling Stiles' waist and pulling himcloser. “I should have talked to you. I should've tried harder.”

“Weboth should.” Stiles says, hears a sniff and realizes they are bothcrying. God, what a fucking mess they made. “You're more thanenough. You – I love you.I've never loved anyone else.”

“Meneither.” Derek answers. “I love you so much, it hurts me. I wantto keep you forever. And losing you, I can't –”

“Youdidn't.” Stiles touches Derek's hair, holds onto his shouldersbecause he can't trust his legs anymore. “You won't.”

“We'llbe together?”

“Yes,”Stiles laughs, cries, breathes forthe first time in months, “together.”

Forever.

[ravenvsfox]

Hey err lmao idk if I'm doing this correctly? But I love ur writing and sob at all ur one shots so I have to ask please can u write an andreil w a daughter??? Ik it's not their style tbh but I'm lowkey obsessed with my ships having kids. ANYWAY THANK YOU UR AMAZING AND I HOPE U HAVE A LOVELY DAY !!

(ur such a babe honestly this is too kind

There’s a blonde girl sitting cross-legged at the end of the hall, huddled amongst the medical waste baskets and supply shelving. Andrew spots her on his way to the vending machine, and she hasn’t moved at all by the time he makes his way back.

She’s maybe six or seven, utterly silent, her bangs long enough to get in her eyes.

He stops, holding a bag of skittles and a shitty mineral water for Neil, watching the girl try to look like nothing at all. If she were crying, the staff would notice, he knows. They would coddle her and take her to the bustling front desk and call for help and smooth back her straggly hair.

Kids are apparently only worth helping if they’re being cute or making a scene, and she’s obviously trying to do neither.

He realizes when he’s stalling his route back to Neil’s room that he’s seen this kid before. Last time Neil was in for a twisted ankle that he’d kept running on until it gave out, and they’d been in this emergency room, both of them stoic and impatient. That same girl had been in the waiting room with an intern crouched in front of her, her purpling wrist cradled between strange gloved hands. Andrew had noticed because the girl’s father had been on the phone, and he’d had one hand tightly holding the girl’s ponytail. A grip like fingers under a dog’s collar.

It could be a different blonde kid, but Andrew knows it’s not. He recognizes that silence.

“Hey,” he says. The girl’s little shoulders tense all the way up to her ears. He doesn’t get close. He keeps his back touching the opposite wall so she can see his empty hands and his relaxed posture. “Is someone hurting you?” He doesn’t put any effort into inflection. It’s like offering her an unused whiteboard.

Her mouth folds in on itself. She’s trying not to talk, and he can practically map out her thought process start to finish. He told me not to tell. He said it would be bad. He doesn’t lie.

“Is there anyone else?” Andrew asks. Her hands go up to her own knees and she grips them as she shakes her head. “Don’t go home,” he says. “Hide. Scream if he comes near. Say he’s a stranger. Do you understand?”

She looks up at him with frightened dark eyes. “Yes.”

Andrew nods. He drops the skittles in her lap and walks the first few backwards steps away from her, watching her blink down at her gift.

He swivels and grits his teeth, walking all the way back to Neil’s room with his grip hard enough on the vitamin water that it should burst.

Neil’s head jerks up when he enters the room, as always, which is a problem because he’s getting stitches down the curve of his brow bone.

The doctor groans, trying to pinch the skin closed with tweezers and steady Neil’s jaw with his other hand. “Steady, please,” he reminds for the dozenth time. “I’m getting more gauze. Don’t move. I mean it.”

Neil looks affronted at being ordered around but he doesn’t say anything. He bunches the covers to his chest and watches Andrew come close, looking eons more comfortable when the doctor is out of the room.

“No sugary shit?” he asks, reaching out for the water and looking amused at the warped, sweaty label. Andrew doesn’t answer, but he sees something change in Neil’s face; he stops unscrewing the cap and looks beyond Andrew’s shoulder. “Did you kidnap a child?”

Andrew turns and sees the girl in the doorway, holding her skittles with both hands and breathing shakily, like she ran to catch up with him. “I’m not supposed to.”

“Supposed to what?” Neil asks, bewildered. Andrew frowns between them.

“She followed me.”

“From where?” Neil squints at the girl, and then his eyes settle all at once, understanding. “She was here last month.” Andrew should’ve known that Neil has an eye for victims too.

“I’m here lots,” the girl says.

“You probably shouldn’t be,” Neil says, darkly unsettled.

“I’m hiding,” she whispers. He looks unimpressed.

“Hide somewhere else.”

She quakes, holding her skittles like a weapon. “He isn’t gonna like how long I’ve been gone.”

“Who?” Neil asks sharply.

“My dad,” she whispers. Neil’s expression twists drastically. He reaches one hand out, palm up on the bed. He doesn’t even seem to be conscious of having done it.

“Do you have anywhere you can go?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not supposed to run away.”

Neil looks at Andrew meaningfully and then back at her. “Sometimes you have to run.” She watches him with her face scrunched up, and then she steps forward unevenly, crossing the room to his bedside.

“What happened to your face?”

“He didn’t run fast enough,” Andrew deadpans, and Neil gives him the least impressed look he can muster when half of his face has been numbed.

“A mean backliner hit me with a big stick.”

“She doesn’t know what a backliner is,” Andrew drawls. She looks up at him indignantly.

“Sports,” she says. “It’s a sports player.”

“Nice,” Neil says, genuinely impressed, and Andrew rolls his eyes.

The door opens, and Andrew goes to step in front of the girl a second too late. The doctor stands in the doorway holding a package of gauze, his jaw slack.

“Uhh. She yours?” he asks, looking back and forth between the frowning little girl to the frowning men with their hands flung out in front of her.

“Yeah,” Andrew says.

The doctor looks unconvinced, and he paces warily forward, moving into a crouch when he’s close enough. “What’s your name?” he asks. She juts her lip, and lifts her skittles like they’re her ID.

“Mary.”

“Okay Mary, are these your dads?” he asks, gesturing up to Andrew and Neil without looking for their reactions. His back is tense enough that Andrew can tell he’s scared to.

She looks up at them, as if confirming.“Yes.”

“Where were you before?” he asks, voice slipping from high and condescending to something more genuinely confused.

“Daycare,” she says quickly. “They dropped me off when they heard my daddy got hurt.”

The doctor opens and closes his mouth, finally looking up and flinching at Andrew’s expression.

“Okay,” he says slowly, apparently defeated. “But you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says, voice unusually empty for a kid who’d been walking the line of a meltdown five minutes earlier.

The doctor stands, finally, reaching for his pocket. He surveys them for a minute and then shakes his head. “I gotta make a call.”

As soon as he’s gone, the tension seeps out with him.

“You’re a little liar,” Andrew tells her. “You’ll fit in with him.” He nods towards Neil.

“Fit in?” Neil asks. “You know she’s not actually ours, right?”

“You know that doctor is checking your records as we speak, right?” Andrew replies.

“They’ll make me go back,” Mary says, voice wobbly.

“She’s not going back,” Andrew tells Neil, and Neil meets his gaze head on. They’ve never discussed having kids, but they’ve discussed what it was like to be them. They’ve discussed saving them, if they had the chance. They know where they stand on this.

Neil sighs, resigned. “Social services?”

“Fuck no.”

Neil touches his own temple, right near his head wound. He cracks one eye open and slants it at Mary.

“Your name isn’t Mary, is it?”

She shakes her head quickly.

“So much for my clean record,” Neil says. “We have to go now if we want to slip him.”

Andrew nods once and turns on the kid. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Yes,” she says immediately. “Yes please.”

“Forget that word,” Andrew says, and he tips her chin up when her face immediately ducks. “You don’t have to say it anymore.”