#drug abuse mention tw

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane’s Pets Chapter 76: Victory Lap

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When you wake up in the morning, you realize you didn’t have any nightmares at all. None that you can remember, at least. For a while, you thought that would never happen again, but here you are. You know that this is a temporary good period, and that the nightmares will eventually get bad again. But from where you are now, you can see that the temporary good periods are getting longer, and the bad periods are getting shorter. If things continue this way, and you think they will, you’ll eventually only have nightmares every once in a while, and you’ll be able to easily deal with them when they happen.

You can’t even remember the last time you woke up feeling this good. Not just safe- you felt safe for a while at Jane’s house, even though it was a lie. But you never woke up in Jane’s house feeling excited for the day. You don’t think you’ve woken up looking forward to the day ahead of you since you were a kid, actually. That’s… sad.

But now you are waking up excited. Now as you slowly go through the process of waking up your brain, you think of all the things you want to do today. You’re going to study magic and practice Dollie and Kit’s names and go on a walk and Diya said ey’d teach you how to bake bread, and maybe you’ll work on your knitting project or finishing up that book about trauma and nightmares if your head is feeling okay. If not, you’ll just play some simple card and board games with Diya and Ray and maybe Barron.

First, you do your morning work-out with Diya. You’re doing more push

-ups and sit-ups than you started with, but you’ve found that doing too many makes some old scars hurt. You looked up if scar tissue should be stretched and you didn’t fully understand the answers, so you just make sure to stop if you’re in pain.

You think that the scars limiting your movements would be a lot more upsetting if you hadn’t already been forced to accept that your body won’t ever work the same way it did before Jane took you. You get headaches from anything that requires prolonged focus and things that used to be easy are hard, now. Things will never be like they were before. But you can still be happy.

You really enjoy your morning runs. They don’t aggravate old scars or give you headaches, so long as you drink enough water. You tend to run for a lot longer than Diya every day. It feels really good, and if you could go beyond the reach of the magical protection, you think you’d be interested in trying to run marathons.

You definitely couldn’t run a marathon right now, but every day you’re getting stronger. It feels really, really good to feel strong.

After your run, you take a shower and join the others for breakfast. Ray made oatmeal for everyone, but says you can fix yourself something else if you don’t like it. You’ve never been a big fan of oatmeal, but you eat your serving enthusiastically. You can’t tell how invested they are in people liking what they made, so you’ve decided it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Hey Liam, did you ever end up having lucid dreams?” Diya asks.

“Oh shit, I haven’t even been doing the things to make lucid dreaming happen! My nightmares have been decreasing, though.”

“Good!”

“What about you?”

“Hmm… I think I had a lucid dream last night, but I couldn’t always control it. It was more like being lucid was part of the plot of the dream, rather than me actually having a lucid dream.”

You nod. “That makes sense. Did it help with the nightmares at all?”

“Not really, but that’s okay. It was worth a shot.”

Once you’re done with breakfast, you help clean up and then dive back into some of the magic books Barron gave you, remembering to take some ibuprofen before you start.

Over the past few weeks, you’ve finished the first two books, the ones about magic in general and magic history, and now you’re working on the one about magical objects.

Magic is… weird. Repeatedly, you’ve gone to Barron to ask why the books contain so many contradictions, and its answers have ranged from “oh, that’s not actually a contradiction, the book is just using that word to mean something different than it does to non-mages” to “Yeah, it wouldn’t be magic if it made sense.”

“It’s all guesses and models.” It said. “Ways of thinking about magic that allow for the best results. Magic isn’t like science. It actively resists being studied and practiced. Don’t treat anything anyone tells you about magic as absolute truth. It’s all guesses.”

“So… when you said Jane doesn’t confirm to the ‘rules of magic’…”

“She doesn’t conform to the way most mages understand magic. Honestly, it kind of does feel like hearing about something that doesn’t conform to the rules of gravity or something, even when I know magic isn’t like science. We’ve used these models for so long, so for someone or something to just not fit? That’s kind of scary. But it doesn’t necessarily mean she’s more powerful than things that follow the rules. It just means we’ve found a way that our current way of thinking about magic can lead to blindspots.”

You think back to that conversation often, reminding yourself that the things written in these books are not literally true in the same way things written in a textbook might be. This actually makes reading them easier. If something doesn’t make sense, you just figure that it’s not a way of thinking about magic that clicks with you, and you’ll find a completely different explanation of the same vague concept within a few chapters.

Even with the ibuprofen, you can only focus on one thing for so long. In fact, when you’ve tried to push past the pain and difficulty concentrating, you’ve found that you get dizzy and your ears ring. Best not to push it.

You can still come back to the book later. It’s… fine. It’s fine. You’ve been dealing with the brain damage very well lately, you think. There was other stuff you wanted to do today anyway, so there’s no reason to get upset about needing to stop reading. Even if it’s only been 30 minutes, and you were able to read for nearly an hour without feeling bad at all yesterday.

It’s fine.

You find Diya and Ray outside, cloud gazing.

“Hi, Liam! How’s studying magic going?”

“Fine. It’s kind of hard to read today.” You were going to ask Diya if ey thought making bread required a lot of focus, so you could decide if you wanted to jump into that or take a break first. But… Diya and Ray seem to be having fun, and you don’t want to end it early. “Is it okay if I join you?”

“Of course!”

“Are you sure? If you just want to hang out as a couple that’s fine too.”

“No, we want to spend time with you! Well, I do, and I assume Ray does.”

Ray nods. “I do.”

You lie down in the dirt next to Diya. Ey points at a cloud. “Doesn’t that one look like a dragon?”

“Hmm… Actually, I think that cloud looks like… stuffing coming out of a pillow with a hole in it.”

You can tell Diya is rolling eir eyes without looking at em.

Ray puffs. “No, it looks like white cotton candy.”

“No, no, that’s not right at all. It looks like a bunch of soap suds.”

“You guys are terrible at this!” Diya exclaims.

“Okay, okay, it looks like soap suds in the shape of a dragon.” You say.

“Good enough! What about that one?”

The three of you share thoughts about clouds for a long time. It’s really nice. Warm and safe and peaceful.

Eventually, bugs start to bother you, so you go back inside and work on Kit and Dollie’s names. Diya and Ray follow soon after and start playing a care game in the kitchen.

It’s going faster than remembering your own name went. You can already think the names and you think you’ll be able to say them by the end of the day. And then you’ll be on track to hear other people say them!

“Kit” you whisper to yourself. “Dollie.”

You’re thrilled to have so much control back, but also terrified. You put the notebook away for now, and, in an effort to distract yourself, you go to get Diya.

“Hey, you said yesterday you wanted to teach me to make bread? Do you still want to do that?”

“Yeah! Me and Ray are almost done with this game. Oh, is it okay if Ray joins us.”

“That’s fine. Um, while you’re finishing up, I could start getting stuff ready? What stuff should I get out?”

“Oh, theres no need for that. We’re almost done.”

“Diya…” You don’t know what to say. You need to distract yourself so that the fear goes away without you ever being hurt, and your brain learns things are different now. Diya’s the one who taught you that, and it’s always worked before.

Diya finally looks up from eir cards at you. Eir face falls. “Are you okay?”

“I just… want to do something. Right now.”

Ray sets down their cards. “We don’t have to finish.”

“Right, right.” Diya gets up. “Can you put away the cards while me and Liam get set up?”

Ray nods, and Diya leads you to a drawer and takes out a big, clear bowl. “Fill this with flour. It’s in the pantry.”

Diya goes to another drawer and starts getting other stuff out. You drag a large container of flour from the pantry.

“Were you just wanting me to pour the flour in there? That seems messy.”

“Things do get pretty messy when you bake bread, but I figured you’d use a measuring cup to fill it up. They’re in the drawer to your right.”

You pick out a large measuring cup and start scooping. “And you just want me to fill the whole bowl?”

“Yep!”

If you focus on not spilling any flour, the job takes quite a bit of concentration. You’re able to think less about how Jane would hurt you and just focus. By the time the bowl is full, your hands have stopped shaking.

Over the next several hours, the three of you make some bread. It involves a lot more waiting than you were hoping for, but that does help prevent headaches, so you’re not complaining. You take a break during one of the waiting periods to make lunch, but mostly you just… hang out, keeping an eye on the bread and chatting.

“We should make a bird house.” Diya says, looking out the window at some birds.

“That would require a lot of tools.” Ray says.

“Yeah, that’s the fun part! We should try to make the cabin, but tiny and for birds!”

“What kinds of birds are around here?” You ask.

“I dunno. Normal birds? You could use the computer to look it up, if you want.”

“Maybe later. It would be really nice to have a bird house. I like birds.

Diya nods and gently pokes the bread-in-progress. “That’ll be our next little project, then. I’ll have Barron get us the supplies.”

You never would’ve dreamed you’d be living a life like this. Living with close friends and learning magic and having the ability to just… make things, if you want to.

You really wish Kit and Dollie were here. They will be, soon, you’re sure of it.

—

Once the bread is finally done baking, the three of you to for a walk while you wait for it to cool.

“Geez, Barron’s missing out on all this bonding time. If only it didn’t have a job…” Diya sighs dramatically. “Actually, maybe I should get a job. I don’t think there are any vampires actually hunting me, I don’t need to be at the cabin all the time like you guys. And if your friends are going to be joining us we’ll probably need more money. I think. I honestly have no idea how much its mage job pays.”

Briefly, you feel guilty that you’re so dependent on Barron working, and that Kit and Dollie joining you will make things harder. But… they’ve said repeatedly that they want you here, and Ray’s in the same position you are, and you don’t think their a burden. Diya could’ve gotten a job at any time and you don’t think ey’s a burden. You let the guilt slide off you. It’s not like you don’t help out, anyway, you have chores like everyone else.

You walk in silence for a while. You’ve been wanting to ask Diya something for a while, but you don’t know how to bring it up.

“Can I ask you a question, Diya? You don’t have to answer, but I’ve been reading about magical stuff and I’ve been wondering… what it was like for you to be the captive of a vampire?” It’s not a purely magical question. You want to know… how similar Diya’s experiences are to yours. But you can’t just ask 'what was your abuse like.’ That would be weird.

Diya laughs. “Why are you asking me about that and not Ray about being the captive of a faery?”

“Me and Ray have talked about that before.” You know Ray eventually just left. That they could’ve left at any time, but they chose to stay to protect their sister. It doesn’t make what happened to them any less bad, but it does make it different. “You definitely don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, it’s not important that I know or anything, and I can find other ways to learn about vampires.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not super hard to talk about, I just assume that people will ask if they want to know. Which is funny because I also assume other people will tell me things if they want me to know, so I shouldn’t ask… Anyway, I don’t know a lot about vampires. I only saw him for a few minutes every day, and it’s not like we were chatting during those times. I know vampires drink blood and that’s about it. I didn’t even see Jane kill him, I just ran.“

“Oh. That’s okay. Um… if you ever want to talk about it, either of you, I’m- I’m here to listen.”

Ray nods. “Us too. You can talk to us too if you ever want to.”

“Yeah! But I think you already knew that. I hope so, at least.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The three of you make it back to the cabin. You each have a slice of homemade bread with jam. It’s delicious.

When Barron gets home, you all have dinner, before playing Clue and heading to bed. You lost, and you didn’t even cry this time!

It’s still frustrating to be bad at things you were once good at. But you’re getting good at things you were once bad at, too.

You want to work on your knitting or read a bit more before bed, but you’ve done a lot today and you’re really tired. There’s always tomorrow.

—

You reread the page a few times to be sure you understood correctly, but there’s really not a lot of ways to interpret it. It’s a good thing Barron’s home.

You knock on its bedroom door, book still in hand.

“Come in.”

You throw the door open. “Barron! There were spells that reduced pain this entire time and you didn’t tell me? I was in so much pain you wanted to take me to the hospital once!” You hold the book open so that Barron can see the page you’re talking about.

Barron pulls several expressions you don’t understand before settling on something apologetic. “It didn’t even occur to me. All the pain reducing spells we know of have really bad side effects. When I first learned about them, I thought ‘it’d be a better use of magic to just invisibly steal some painkillers,’ and then I never really thought about those spells again. The thought that you would want me to use one of them never even crossed my mind. I should’ve given you the option, at least. I know that even if you decided the side effects were too much to bear, it would’ve been easier if you felt like it was your choice. I’m sorry.”

Geez, Barron is good at apologies. You can already feel yourself calming down. You flip to the next page. Sure enough, there are several warnings highlighted in red for each pain-killing spell.

“I… guess I should’ve finished reading that section before I came to confront you.”

“I can see why that was upsetting. I should’ve told you earlier. I wasn’t intentionally hiding that information, though, I just never connected those spells to your headaches in my head. Do you want to try them?”

You glance over the warnings again. Why the fuck would a spell about relieving pain cause your fingernails to fall off, or blind you for a full week? None of the other spells so far have had warnings like this.

“Ugh, definitely not. I guess we’ll see how bad these side-effects sound the next time I have a bad episode, though. They might seem worth it if I was in enough pain.”

Barron nods. “Sounds like a plan.”

—

“The worst part wasn’t being fed from.” Diya tells you during your morning run. You take a second to catch on, then slow down so you can talk more easily. Diya follows suit.

"Oh? What was the worst part? If you want to share.”

“I was completely alone in that little cell. Once a month he’d drop off a bunch of food, and other than that I only saw him when he was drinking my blood. There were two books, and a cot, and nothing else.”

“Shit.” It’s not like what happened to you, but that’s okay. Well, not okay. Horrible. “For how long?”

“Around a year.”

That’s similar. “…It’s funny, I don’t know what to say. Like I should be able to just think of what I want to hear when I tell people about what happened to me, but…”

“There’s nothing you can say.” Ey finishes. “A lot of wrong things to say, and some inoffensive ones, but never really a good one.”

You nod.

“It wasn’t so bad. After a while I was anemic enough that I was unconscious most of the time, so I didn’t just have to sit there and be lonely and bored.”

“Ray mentioned that you were anemic when you first came here.”

“Yeah. No, being anemic wasn’t so bad. Cold and exhausting, but bearable. The worst part, the worst worst part, was the first week.”

“That makes sense. You probably didn’t really know what was going on then, so it was extra scary.”

“Well, that, but actually it was mostly that I was going through withdrawals for like… several drugs.”

“Oh. I should’ve let you finish.”

“It’s fine. But yeah, that was the worst part. Being completely alone while I puked and shook and saw things, fucking, drooling all over me gnawing on my body parts… I still can’t be positive that was a hallucination. Maybe Irving had some fucked up friends. But I think I was hallucinating. I could’ve died. For a long time, I wished I had. But not anymore. I’m… glad I made it through all that. It sucked, it was meaningless and unnecessary pain that should never have happened, don’t get me wrong, but I’m happy with where I ended up, and I don’t think I would’ve ended up here without that happening.”

That’s very similar. “I get that. I hate that everything happened this way, but I’m so glad I got to meet you, and Ray, and Barron, and Dollie and Kit-“

Fear flashes through you. You run a bit harder.

“Yeah! I’m definitely not an ‘everything happens for a reason’ type of person, but I also know that everything that’s happened to me has impacted who I am, and I like who I am, y’know? It didn’t have to happen. I could’ve ended up this happy in a million other ways. But, this is how I ended up here, and… I’m okay with that. Hey, slow down.”

“Sorry.” You take some deep breaths. “You’re really good at putting this stuff into words.”

"You’re really good at listening. I’m glad I decided to talk to you about this stuff.”

You slow down a bit more. “Can I tell you something kind of weird?”

“Always.”

“I… was kind of hoping we’d have more in common? Like, that you were afraid of Irving the same way I’m afraid of Jane. Sorry. It’s dumb, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just a weird thought I should’ve kept to myself.”

Diya is quiet for a while. “I think… you do have a lot in common with what happened to you and what happened to your friends who are still captive. So maybe… maybe you were hoping to have the same sort of bond with me?”

You stop running. Diya stops quickly after and turns around to face you.

“I- I think that’s it. Wow. I guess it’s good that I told you. Holy crap. How did you figure it out so quick?” You feel like a weight has been lifted.

Diya shrugs. “Guess I’m just super smart.”

You laugh. “I guess so.”

Now that you realize what was wrong, it’s easy to deal with. You’re never going to have a relationship with other people that’s exactly what like you have with Kit and Dollie. But that’s okay. Your other relationships are really good too.

—

Barron didn’t come to breakfast this morning. You, Ray, and Diya found it fast asleep in its bed, with its alarm still going. Its face is covered in sweat and it’s shaking beneath the blankets. You turn off the alarm clock.

Ray shakes Barron, mumbling “not again, not again, not again-“ to themself and smiling.

Barron jolts awake. “Huh?”

Ray gasps and hugs it tightly.

“Ray, honey?" Diya gently pulls Ray off of Barron and places a hand against its forehead. “Barron will be fine. It looks like just a slight fever, okay?”

You disagree that it’s a ‘slight’ fever, but the statement seems to calm Ray down.

You leave the room and head to the bathroom. You run a washcloth under cool water and ring it out, then bring it to Barron and drape the washcloth over its forehead. It seems to be asleep again.

“Thank you, Liam.” Diya says. “Ibuprofen helps with fevers, right?”

“Oh, I think so? They help with aches, at least.”

You go to leave and get some ibuprofen, but Ray beats you to it, sprinting out of the room.

“Uh… have none of you been sick since you met Ray?”

“We have. Ray… always struggles with it. We do our best.”

Ray hurries back into the room, though not sprinting this time due to the cup of water in their hand. Once they reach Barron, their movements become less urgent, and they gently prop it up with pillows before shaking it awake again.

“Medicine, here’s medicine. It’ll work this time. It’ll work, the medicine is better now.”

Ray sounds… younger. They help Barron take the pills.

Barron groans. “Where… who?”

Ray steps away abruptly. “I’ll get you some food. You’ll feel better after eating.” They sprint out of the room again. You’ve never seen Ray move so fast.

Barron is still shaking and sweating. It softly groans in its sleep.

“That’s not a ‘slight’ fever.” You whisper.

“No, it’s not. I’m going to go get our thermometer, can you keep an eye on Barron?”

You nod and Diya leaves. Ray enters the room soon after, with a tray carrying toast, yogurt, orange juice, and a water bottle.

They don’t acknowledge you and go straight to Barron, shaking it more gently this time.

“Barron. Do you want some food? I got you some food.”

Barron blinks slowly. “Wha- what’s happening? Where am I?”

“You’re in your bed. Do you want some yogurt?”

“Mmm… sure? What’s…”

Barron closes its eyes and sighs. Ray feeds it a spoonful of yogurt.

You feel… you don’t know. You don’t like that Barron is sick and Ray is upset. You keep thinking about Dollie coughing up blood and-

Well, best not to think about that right now. If you start freaking out Diya will have to take care of all three of you, and that wouldn’t be fair to em.

Diya comes back and takes Barron’s temperature.

“It’ll be alright.” Ey says. “The fever isn’t high enough that I’ll need to take it to the hospital. Barron, how long have you been sick?”

“Hmm? How long…” Barron trails off again.

“That’s more concerning.” Diya mumbles.

Ray nudges Diya out of the way and continues feeding Barron yogurt.

“…I’ve been reading about healing spells. I haven’t had a chance to pra- try any of them yet, but maybe I could help Barron?”

There is a risk to using magic here. If Barron has something that its body can fight off on its own, magic will speed up the process. But if there’s something seriously wrong, which you’re worried about with how suddenly this came on and how intense the symptoms are… magic might just make it worse. If it’s not something that can be fought off with its immune system alone, speeding up the healing will just exhaust its body’s resources.

You can’t say that with Ray in the room, though. They’re already very worried and having trouble separating the current situation from what happened to their sister. You pull Diya aside.

“There’s a chance that healing magic will make it worse. It just speeds up what the body is already doing, so if the body isn’t being helpful… that’s bad. I think if I use one of the less powerful spells we can see if it makes whatever Barron has worse or better without a ton of danger, but I don’t think I should make that decision alone. The less powerful spells are easier to prepare as well. What do you think?”

Diya glances over at Ray. “I think… that’s a good idea. Even if it makes things worse, that’ll help, because then we’ll know it can’t fight this on its own and needs more medical care than we can provide.”

You nod. You hadn’t even thought about that. “Okay, I was thinking of using a spell that gives food healing properties? There are a few, but I’d use a simpler one. That way we have even more control over how and when the magic is used. So we can do just a little at a time.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. If we made it some soup, could you cast the spell on that?”

You nod.

“Awesome! We’ll wait a little bit, since Barron’s eating breakfast right now. And if we keep an eye on it for a while before we use the spell it’ll be easier to tell if the spell makes things better or worse.”

“Good plan.”

The two of you head back towards the bed. Ray has finished feeding Barron the yogurt and is working on the toast.

“This is the last of the bread we made.” They tell him. They look up at you and Diya, smiling. “You don’t have to hide things from me. I won’t be annoying. I’ll understand. You can tell me what’s going on.”

You look to Diya, not knowing how to handle this. Diya takes Ray’s hand. They continue feeding Barron with the other. “We just didn’t want to worry you. We’re not worried about you being annoying, or not understanding. You could never annoy me, and I think you’re super smart. I just… don’t want you to ever have to suffer. And you’re already so worried, so I didn’t want to make it worse. But you’re right, that’s not fair, and we shouldn’t hide stuff from you just to stop you from worrying. I’m-“ ey cuts themself off.

Ray’s smile wavers. “What were you guys talking about?”

“We were talking about Liam’s suggestion to use a healing spell. There are some risks, but ultimately we decided that it would be worth it. We’re going to make some soup and have Liam cast a healing spell on it, so that eating it would heal Barron, and we can administer it slowly and stop if it has a negative reaction. What do you think?”

Ray gives a pained smile. “What if that kills he- it. What if that kills it?"

Diya squeezes Ray’s hand. “I think that’s very unlikely. Healing magic speeds things up. It could have negative effects, but with the way we’re doing it it’s near impossible for one of those effects to be death. Plus, if it’s something Barron can’t fight off on its own, we want to know that as soon as possible.”

Ray looks at Barron, who has fallen back asleep. They nod slowly, still smiling. “Okay. We should do a healing spell.”

They get up and take the now-empty tray back to the kitchen and come back with another water bottle, which they set on Barron’s nightstand. Then they just… stand there and stare at it. Watching it breathe.

Diya pulls the chair from Barron’s desk over to Ray. “If you’re going to just stay and watch, at least sit.”

Ray sits.

Diya watches Ray watch Barron, concerned. “I guess I should try and figure out how to call Barron in sick to work, since it doesn’t look like it’ll be able to do that itself…” Ey looks at you. You don’t know what ey wants.

“Good idea. Um… when I was living back with Jane, we used to read to each other if we ended up stuck in bed, would- would that help?”

Ray doesn’t look away from Barron. “It might.”

Diya looks reassured, and ey leaves the room to go figure stuff out. You pick up a random book sitting on Barron’s desk, sit on the end of its bed, and start reading aloud.

—

You read for a long time. Barron has stopped shaking, which seemed to calm Ray down a little bit. They’ve replaced the washcloth on its forehead a couple of times.

Your head is starting to hurt, but… you don’t know how you’ll be able to help if you stop reading. So you keep reading.

Diya hasn’t come back. Maybe ey’s having trouble contacting people outside the cabin, or maybe ey just didn’t feel the need to come back and watch Barron sleep once ey was done.

You keep losing track of what the book you’re reading is talking about. Your reading aloud has gotten more and more choppy as time goes on. You know it has something to do with magic and culture and politics.

Ray hardly blinks as they watch Barron. Your heart aches for them. You don’t know how to convince them it’ll be okay.

Funny, how you don’t feel for Barron in the same visceral way. It’s much easier to out yourself in Ray’s shoes than to but yourself in Barron’s. Not entirely surprising, but funny.

You set the book down and try to ignore your headache. “Ray?”

Ray doesn’t look up. “What is it?”

“I… I didn’t mean to be condescending, earlier, when I talked to Diya and not you.”

“I know.”

“I… also had, um, someone I, uh, cared about- cared about a lot, get really sick. And… die.”

Ray does look up at that. “Why are you saying this now?”

“I just… I understand, at least a little, how you’re feeling. I didn’t want to make it worse. I know I don’t fully understand, because you clearly felt a responsibility towards keeping your sister healthy that I never felt towards… the person I really cared about. I was never expected to take care of him or watch over him, and his symptoms were very different. But I understand a little.”

“…You never talk about it.”

“Yeah. It would probably be healthier if I did. But mostly I just don’t think about it. It was a long time ago. Over a decade. I guess it was a long time ago for you too…”

"No. My sister didn’t die until after I left the fae realm. She died a few days after we met Barron, two years ago.”

“Oh geez. That’s hard. Two years after I lost my- my dad,” there’s no reason to keep it secret “I was barely functional. I guess I just assumed that it was a while ago for you too, since you’re handling stuff so well.”

Ray puffs. “So well. That’s why I’ve been watching Barron sleep for the past hour.”

Their tone doesn’t sound like they’re being sarcastic, but you’re pretty sure they are.

“I kind of want to give you a hug, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t like that.”

“What makes you think that?”

You have to think for a moment. “You just never really seek out stuff like that. Even with Diya, and ey said you’re, like, dating. I guess you hugged Barron earlier, but that was because you were really upset.”

“Public displays of affection are impolite. Diya says there’s nothing public about hugging your partner in a cabin in the middle of the woods. I still prefer to only do that stuff when we’re alone, most of the time. Someday I won’t be so scared of being impolite… But I don’t dislike it. I really like hugs, actually. It’s just… I feel rude touching people without permission, and I feel rude asking for permission… You can hug me if you want.”

You scoot towards Ray and envelope them in a very awkward hug. The movement makes your head hurt worse and you feel dizzy, but it’s worth it.

They freeze at first, and you wonder if you misinterpreted something, but then they rest their head on your shoulder and return the hug, very gently. Even though their arms are technically around your torso, they’re barely touching you.

They invited you to hug them, so you don’t think they’re uncomfortable. That’s just… the way they hug. As if they’re trying to hug a cloud.

When you pull away, Ray isn’t smiling anymore. You feel a flush of pride. They’ve been terrified all day, and hugging you is what finally calmed them down.

“Awww!”

You look towards the voice. Diya’s standing in the doorway to Barron’s bedroom.

“How long have you been standing there?” Ray asks.

“I was just going to get Liam to come cast a spell on the soup I’m making, but you were hugging and I didn’t want to interrupt! You two are adorable.”

You laugh and get up off the bed. You immediately fall over. Ow.

“Liam!”

You’d almost forgotten how dizzy you’d been getting. You really need to stop ignoring headaches… At least your ears aren’t ringing yet. “It’s fine, I just… read for too long. Can you help me up?”

You almost fall over again as Diya helps you up, but ey catches you.

“How about you stay here and I bring the soup to you?”

You nod. The world spins and you feel like you’ve been stabbed in the head. “Could you bring me ibuprofen too?”

“Yeah. Do you need, like, rocks and shit for the spell?”

“Barron has a bunch of that stuff in its dresser. I’m sure it won’t mind.”

Diya sets you back down on the bed and goes through Barron’s dresser until ey finds the drawer of magic stuff. “What do you need?”

You describe the type of leaf you want and the rune that should be drawn on it. “If there aren’t any leaves like that with that rune that’s fine, it shouldn’t be too hard to draw something on a leaf.”

Luckily, Diya finds the exact type of leaf you wanted. Ey hands it to you and leaves (ha) to go get some soup.

This spell doesn’t even require you to say anything. You just have to do the right movements. You go over them in your head while you wait.

Diya quickly returns with four bowls of soup on a tray and some ibuprofen, and sets the tray on the bed. “I figured we should all eat. So, is there else anything you need for the spell, or…”

“I can just do it. Does it matter which bowl?”

“Nope, they’re all the same."

You quickly take the ibuprofen. It won’t help that much after you’ve let it get this bad, but it’s worth a shot.

You pick up the bowl nearest to you and set the leaf under it, then set the bowl back down. You remind yourself which hand is your right and which is your left, and then do the motions for this particular spell.

…

Nothing happens.

“I, uh. Don’t know if that worked. When I made water start boiling it was pretty easy to tell, but this spell doesn’t really have a visual component… Barron’s magic always makes a popping noise. I don’t know what mine does when it works.”

“I think… for a second your eyes turned yellow? Maybe I just imagined it.”

“I think I saw that too.” Ray says.

You shrug. “Well, I guess that’ll have to be confirmation enough. Let’s wake up Barron.”

Ray shakes Barron awake as gently as its possible to shake someone awake.

“How are you feeling?” They ask.

“I wish you’d stop waking me up.” It grumbles. You feel kind of bad about annoying it, but hey, that’s the first full sentence they’ve said all day.

“Diya made some soup. Liam cast a healing spell on it. Can you eat some?”

It sighs. “Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t eat too quickly. And drink plenty of water.”

Barron grumbles something under its breath that you can’t hear.

“You can go straight back to sleep after.”

Barron starts on the soup, taking a drink of water every couple of bites. The rest of you also eat. It’s chicken noodle soup, which you really like. Normally you chat more during meals, but right now Barron doesn’t seem to want to talk.

Barron eats about half the bowl of soup before setting it down and closing its eyes. Ray glances at you and Diya, then leans in close and whispers something to Barron.

It rolls its eyes. “Yeah, that’s fair.” It starts slowly getting out of bed. “I’m going to go to the bathroom before I pass out again.”

—

Barron also ends up taking a long bath before going back to bed, and reports that it feels much better. You can’t be positive it was the spell, since its condition was improving before that, but you decide to take credit for it anyway.

Ray feels comfortable enough to not constantly watch it breathe, but doesn’t want to leave it alone, so the three of you quietly play card games on the bedroom floor while it sleeps.

By the next day Barron seems completely better, but Ray makes it stay home anyway. They get it to admit that it had been feeling sick for a while before it got this bad and just ignored it, and all three of you lightly scold it. Mostly stuff like “you wouldn’t want any of us to hide if we were sick” and “you really scared me” and “we can’t exactly call an ambulance out here and we don’t have a fucking car, I would’ve had to drag you through the fucking woods to the nearest hospital if things got any worse. And you scared Ray!”

It apologizes for hiding feeling sick and for ‘being grumpy’ while sick. It apologizes in a fairly roundabout way to avoid saying ‘I’m sorry’ and upsetting Ray, but you get the idea.

Barron and Diya spend a long time talking about how to make sure that if something does put it out of commission you all still have a non-teleportation way to get to the nearest town. Eventually they settle on Barron getting someone it trusts from work to agree to come and help if any of you message them on the computer.

Within a few days, everything is back to normal. A joyous, wonderful normal.

You feel like you’ve won. Against Jane, against your own brain, against everything that was keeping you down. Now all that’s left to do is help your other friends win too.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @fuzzybucketz

[this-violence-of-mine]

for cyrus... what if he was stuck outside in the worst weather. sopping wet. i mean he should get struck by lightning but maybe that's a step too far-

Freezing Rain

Nonny I love you. I neglected the lightning bit but I think he has it bad enough. (Words you will rarely ever hear from me) TW for harsh language and mentions of drug abuse. Enjoy! (He is literally a sopping wet cat in a cardboard box rn)

~

Drops of rain pelted against the acrylic visor of his helmet and streaked down. Visibility lowered greatly with each passing second. His ungloved hands struggled to maintain a good grip on his handlebars as moisture broke through his fingers. 

He huffed and pulled onto the shoulder of the road, stomping down on the kickstand and getting off. 

All around was dense woods and nothing else. He removed his helmet and tucked it underneath his arm.

“Shit,” he ran his fingers through his hair.

Riding during a downpour was a bad idea, everyone knew that. The last time he tried it, he ended up in a two week long coma with a hefty medical bill to top it off. 

“Well, fuck me I guess.” He sighed. “Barrett says one thing about me being late and I will fuck him up this time,” he mumbled as he grabbed the handlebars of his bike and rolled it underneath a tree.

He plopped down against the trunk, setting his helmet down beside him. The warmth of the engine died quickly. He groaned, it’d be a bitch to get started again if it stayed cold.

The rain broke through the tree branches and soaked through his hair and jacket quickly.

He wrapped his arms around himself and tucked his hands beneath his armpits. With each exhale was a cloud of mist. He brought his knees closer to his chest. 

Just before he had left the farm it had been bright and sunny. The only clouds were fluffy and white.

“I shoulda told him no,” he grumbled, “shoulda said ‘fuck you’ the second he told me to go out for the third time this week.” He huffed and curled in on himself. 

Thunder boomed off in the distance. Seconds later, lightning flashed through the sky.

He sighed. Riding off, while completely unsafe, was a much better alternative to being stuck outside in freezing rain. Yet the memories of hydroplaning on the road were far too fresh.

He grimaced as the memories of the crash flooded through his head. His jeans disintegrated in seconds, his skin rubbed against the road like a crayon against paper. His left foot had been shattered under the weight of his bike. 

“Don’t think about that,” he said to himself, “stop thinking about that.”

Once more, thunder boomed, much louder than the last. The flash of lightning was blinding as it streaked across the dark gray clouds. 

He clasped his hands behind his neck and pressed his face into his knees. “Fuck.”

Wind whipped through his shaggy brown hair and stung his wet cheeks as he removed his hands from his neck to hug his legs closer to his body. Warmth was slowly ebbing away as his clothes soaked through with water.

He shivered and let out a shaky, visible breath. “Damn him anyway. All high and mighty. ‘Do this and that and ignore me when I insult you’. Fuck him.” He huffed. “Is a day off really such a big deal? One day, one fucking day, of no riding around and getting shit.” He sighed. “I suppose it is.”

His fingers and nose burned raw from the constant cold. Fluid dripped from his nose and down his lips. Strands of his hair solidified into thin chunks.

“It’ll stop soon.” He stuck his hands into his jacket pockets and balled them into fists. “Another three minutes and I’ll be on my way.”

Off, far in the distance, thunder boomed again. The storm would end eventually and he’d be riding off soon enough.

A half hour passed. His hair had frozen over. His fingers, nose, and ears had gone numb. Ice had formed on the road.

“Fuck this.” He stood up and grabbed his helmet, securing it on his head. His fingers struggled to do the straps, but with enough fiddling the buckle fell into place.

Onto the road he wheeled his bike. He threw his leg over and threw the kickstand up with his foot. 

He turned the key. For a moment the engine remained silent. A pit formed in his gut. His brows furrowed. 

“Come on you bitch.” He twisted it again. 

And again.

And yet again.

With the fifth try his engine roared to life.

“Oh thank fuck,” he sighed.

He wrapped his still numb fingers around the handles and set off down the road. 

His heart raced. With each turn he awaited a terrible accident. Something bad had to happen. Something bad always did. The pit in his gut grew with each passing second. He trembled, from cold or fear, he was unsure.

It seemed someone was kind enough to him to allow him to arrive back at the farm half an hour later.

He stopped right at the porch steps and threw the stand down. He pulled off his helmet, tucking it under his arm.

Through the front windows he saw Viviana peeking through the window, leaning over the back of the couch. He couldn’t help the half smile that formed on his lips. 

The second the front door swung open and Barrett stood in the threshold, his arms crossed, it disappeared.

“Where were you?”

“Getting the shit you wanted.” He opened the storage on the back of his bike and pulled out the bag of antibiotics and painkillers. “Everything’s here. Penicillin, amoxicillin, hydrocodone, and, my personal favorite, oxycodone. These were a bitch to find.” He threw the bag to him. 

“Thanks.” He narrowed his eyes at him. “You didn’t steal any of the-,”

“No, I didn’t.” He glared right back at him. “I’ve been clean.”

He huffed. “I’ll be counting them.”

“Go right ahead.” He stood beside his bike, hesitating to ask to come inside to warm up.

“You want something?”

“Bit cold out. Maybe as payment for my services, I could come in?”

“Absolutely not. Your payment is me letting you stay here.”

“I get all this shit for you and I can’t even come in to warm up?”

“You’re dirty and sopping wet. Maria has enough work around here without you tracking mud in. Go dig a hole or something.” He waved him off. “Shoo.”

He bit back an insult. His nails would have dug into the palms of his hands if he was able to actually form a fist. 

[distantpagesandpapercuts]

❛ your face shows you unwell. ❜

&. 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

"Unwell? Me?" Kira chuckles humorlessly, obviously in a mood. Withdraw? Radiation poisoning? Something else?

Were it anyone else, Kira would've told them to fuck off. That they were closed and she was to not be disturbed. All patients pointed to Doctor Sun's office. But Scratch held some sort of special place in her company. Even among those she considered friends or even previous lovers, they were usually turned away at the door when she was in this state.

But Scratch understood. Scratch didn't look at her any other way even after she vomited on his shoes that one time. Despite being mortified, she received not even a dirty look.

She steps aside, letting him in.

"It ain't contagious. You know me... always in the throes of death in some way or another."

[rcjoice]

20.     refrigerator.  & 07.     medicine cabinet.

peek inside ashton's life||accepting

20.     refrigerator.

condiments, but only like bbq and mustard and an empty bottle of ketchup

old chinese takeout thats been there way too long

nasty ass cheap beer, at all times

when the kids are over, food sel sent over with them

07.     medicine cabinet.

cough syrup/nyquil he drinks to go to bed sometimes

tylenol

bottle of random painkillers that are Not His if anyone asks

nothing else, the man raw dogs life

[emotionaleating]

pls don’t flirt with me i want to be nonchalant so bad but i unfortunately crave connection so intensely that i will give you my entire soul and forgive you over and over until i’ve lost myself completely and feel like i’m drowning

[othcrside]

It was not often that Paige treated herself to breakfast, certainly not at a place as out of budget as the fucking Ivy. However, she thought she could splurge every once in a while, if it meant a small uptick in serotonin. It was difficult finding it nowadays, without any handy syringes that used to deliver liquid joy directly into her bloodstream, but she was trying. That was all she ever did, never making time for a personal life. "... I am hungry," was all she said in return, eyebrows drawn close together in confusion. "Are you not open yet? It is early, I know, but I would like breakfast. You do sell breakfast here, yes?" The inquiry was followed by an expectant stare. "I suppose I can go to Buttermilk. For the third time this week. I am starting to be sick of their pancakes, though. Do you have coffee, at least?" God, she could've fallen to her knees right there on that curb and began praying incessantly for just a shot of caffeine that didn't come from her own grimy coffee maker.

date: the morning of january 4

location: the ivy

@anchoragestarters

With the New Year now over, Romi expected things to calm down a bit--at least, at work. With everything that had happened over the New Year festivities, the blonde was happy to have work as a much-needed distraction and given that it was their first Saturday of the calendar year, food needed to be prepped. However, when she arrived at the Ivy, she noticed that someone was standing outside of the restaurant. Immediately, her spidey senses were tingling and she almost got back in her car and drove away all together--but whether this was a messenger from her father or the Cardinal Serpent or whoever else, she knew that she couldn't look like she was afraid. Walking confidently up to the building, she said "Hi. Can I help you? Do you have an interview scheduled or something?" As far as she was aware, there were no interviews scheduled for today--but then again, she didn't really keep tabs on the front of house because that wasn't her job.

[traumadumpwriter]

JJ Maybank X Reader ~ Relapse and a Half

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into drugs, but they're unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, explicit sexual assault, violence, EXPLICIT!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

So many people commented on the last one I had to write this part! Thanks for the support it means so much to me. I might make this into a short series, potentially add another few parts but I’m not sure. Let me know what you want to see <3

Part Four:

You'd sobbed so hard into Kie's lap that you could hardly breathe, having to be reminded by your friend to take deep breaths as she tried to calm you down.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me." You'd cried as Kie stroked your hair, her heart breaking at every word.

"Stop apologising, Y/N. Are you hurt anywhere? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

"No. No. It's my fault. I'm fine. Please don't hate me." You answered, your words largely incoherent. You weren't even entirely sure what had just happened to land you in your best friend's lap.

"It's not your fault. No one hates you. Ssshh." Kie whispered soothingly, hating Barry with her entirety.

She could see the aggressive conversation happening between JJ and John B outside and Barry's body bleeding beside them. She didn't need to listen to imagine what the boys were saying to each other - JJ no doubt raging and John B trying to calm him down. If you weren't on her lap and needing her care right then, she would've jumped out of the van and beat up Barry herself.

Even without having heard the telling exchange between Rafe and JJ moments prior, your physicality made it clear that something awful and unwilling had happened inside the drug dealer's home. From your desperate sobs and panicked breathing, to your exposed skin and suspicious bruises, to the fact that you could hardly keep your eyes open or string a sentence together. It would be clear to most that someone had given you something too strong for your body to handle and then taken advantage of that.

Pope wheeled your bike into the back of the van and then sat down beside Kie, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around your naked legs without saying a single word. You didn't seem to notice his arrival anyway, your face still buried into Kie's lap as you drifted in and out of hysterical consciousness.

"JJ- Is JJ here?" You choked out.

"He's coming. Just go to sleep. He'll be here in a minute." Kie answered softly, eyeing the blonde as he stormed towards the open van door.

He locked eyes with Kie for a second, the rage he was feeling so palpable that she could've sworn she felt heat coming from him, and then with a pained expression he looked at you. His lips puckered sourly and his nostrils flared whilst his gut twisted and ached. Part of him wanted to leap into the van, hold you so tight and never let go. The part of him that wanted to hurt someone was bigger.

As he raced off, John B shouted after him, but quickly gave up, unable to blame the boy for his anger. He too would be wanting to go back to Barry's to really make him regret touching you as soon as he knew that you would be okay.

When the van started moving and you still hadn't heard JJ's voice or felt his touch, your head shot up in a panic, looking to Kie for guidance through blurry eyes.

"Does- Does he hate me?" You whispered.

"No. Of course not. Just go to sleep, Y/N. Everything will be okay." She answered softly, stroking your face with the care of a mother.

You were extremely relieved to be back with your best friend and for her to not be raging at you - as you'd feared she would be. You didn't completely understand the predicament that you were currently in and why Kiera wasn't in fact angry with you. All you knew was that you'd been at Barry's, something bad had happened, JJ had appeared, and now you were in the Twinkie. Nothing was properly processing whilst the drugs and liquor still pumping through your system - it was all just a confusing blur.

It didn't take long for you to pass out again, lying across the worn, leather seats with your head in Kie's lap. John B scooped you up with ease and carried you into the Chateau, tucking you into the guest bed that JJ usually slept in before anything was said between the Pogues. A heavy silence had enveloped them from the moment they started driving, only broken by Kie's angry groan as she stared into the darkness of the sea ahead.

"I can't believe this. We need to call the police. We can't let them get away with this!" She exclaimed, her knees pulled up to her chest.

"We should. But won't that get Y/N in trouble too? I mean, she was there to purchase a controlled substance. That's pretty illegal." Pope stated, stood in front of the porch with his hands on his hips as he paced.

"It'll definitely get her in trouble. I'm fairly certain JJ's dad has done jail time for that exact charge." John B replied, picking up the blunt from the ground that JJ had been smoking earlier and lighting it. He took a drag before he continued. "We should just go back there and fucking kill the guy."

Both Kie and Pope's heads snapped up in surprise at that, expecting that kind of solution from JJ - not his more mature, brunette counterpart. But alas, neither of them could disagree and a heavy silence enveloped the trio again.

Pope spoke after a short while, his mind racing in a desperate bid to make things less fucked up than they had become.

"Maybe they didn't.. you know... maybe they didn't do anything to her. Maybe JJ just interpreted it wrong. I mean, we don't even know what he saw. Maybe he just saw her passed out like that and broke in - assuming the worst."

"Don't act stupid Pope." John B hissed, not even bothering to look up at him as he spoke. "I went in there, I picked her up. There was literal fucking spunk dripping out her underwear... Need to clean the Twinkie and wash those bed sheets."

He mumbled the last part to himself, a sick feeling rising from his gut into his throat as he remembered the state he'd found his friend in. Half conscious, half dressed, in a disheveled drug den, the room stinking of sex and weed, a damp pillow at her head and a fearful gasp as he'd picked her up.

Kie and Pope grimaced at the image he'd painted, a sickness too rising to their throats, and another long silence came over them until Kie spoke with a sigh.

"This is so fucked up... I'm gonna go inside, make sure she doesn't choke on her vomit or anything. Where do you think JJ is?"

The two boys shrugged, a million and one potential answers to that question. All they could do was hope that he hadn't lost his mind too intensely and landed himself in jail, though it would be understandable if he had. They waited up for him for a while, but hours passed and there was still no sign of the blonde returning, so they eventually slinked silently inside too and passed out in their own respective sleeping spots, entirely exhausted.

Meanwhile, JJ had driven to one of the shit-hole bars that his dad tended to frequent and after a few whiskey shots, started a fight with the biggest guy in there. He knew that he wouldn't win it. Maybe that was why he'd picked that fight. A desperate bid to extinguish some of his guilt, to distract himself, to forget the scared cry that you'd let out, to get what he deserved for hurting you.

After that, he'd driven to his house and started a fight with his dad - once again knowing that he wouldn't win it but wanting to punish the closest thing to a physical manifestation of the drugs you loved that he could think of. He'd remembered the knowing eye contact you and Luke had exchanged with each other last year - before JJ had clocked what you'd been using. It made so much sense when he looked back on it, you'd probably bumped into each other at Barry's, or maybe addicts could just sniff each other out with effortless ease. Identity each other like two dogs of the same breed. At the time, he'd just assumed that you recognised him from your shitty bar job, and he'd asked nothing of it - not wanting to speak about his dad any longer than necessary. It had been a quick trip in and out of his house, it never needed to be thought of again. After your overdose, he'd kicked himself for not mentioning it.

As he'd finished throwing his son to the ground, Luke spat "Get the fuck out of here" and slammed the front door shut, leaving JJ in a disheveled heap on the ground.

The boy stayed there for a little while, trying to focus on the pain of his injuries but unable to do so, his mind inevitably racing back to you - a mocking montage that would play on a loop. From your wide mouthed laughter and big, bright eyes, to the little moans you had let out as he'd drunkenly entered you, how beautiful you looked beneath him, all the way back to your limp body on the drug dealers bed, looking like a sad, broken doll.

"Why did I reject her like that? Why did I laugh in her face? What's wrong with me? Why do I destroy everything I love? Why would I think I was protecting her by being cruel? Why didn't I just go back there that night and tell her I love her? What the fuck is wrong with me?" His thoughts span around agonisingly, wrapping around his brain, slithering to his throat and constricting his breathing.

The last stop he made before returning to the Chateau was a hidden spot on the beach - which was empty for miles due to the time. He sat on the boundary between the sand and the sea, letting the salty waves bury his bottom half with his knees pulled up to his chest, and for the first time in a long time - he cried. He didn't cry hard, he didn't let sobs rock his body like he perhaps should've. No - even in his own company he couldn't let himself do that. But he did let streams of wetness fall from his eyes and small sniffles escape his nose, the guilt he'd tried so hard to suppress enveloping him wholly.

He stayed there for hours, planning on returning to you once he felt better. But that feeling never came and he eventually gave up on it, jumping on his bike as the sun started to rise and heading back to the Chateau.

You'd woken up a short while prior, accidentally waking Kie up too as you tried to sneak out of the bed but stumbled into the side and knocked everything off of it. She shot up from her slouched position on the chair beside the bed and looked around in a panic for a second before collecting herself. As she remembered everything that had happened a few hours prior, she found it hard to not cry looking at you.

You felt the same way, though your memory was not as clear - still feeling hazy and confused.

The first thing you said was "I'm so sorry, Kie. I'll get clean again, I promise."

She threw her arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug which you instantly returned, burying your face into her thick hair and trying not to flinch at the unexplained pain you felt all over your body.

"I know you will." She whispered and then pulled away slightly "How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened last night?"

"I don't know. I was at Barry's and now I'm here. How did that happen?"

"JJ found you... Do you really not remember what happened at Barry's?" Kie's voice was so fraught with worry that even in your still inebriated state you knew it was something bad.

You stood and racked your brain for a moment, trying your hardest to put it all together, and then suddenly a few pieces returned to you  - foggy and unclear but evident in what they meant. You remembered lying in his bed and silently crying, your face pressed into his pillow as he roughly fucked you from behind. You remembered saying no but being convinced the night before that, and then staying the next day just for it to happen again. You remembered his tight grip around your waist and the invasive feeling of him inside of you before you lost consciousness, actively deciding to disassociate instead of trying to stay awake. You remembered how it was your fault.

A jolt of horror sparked through your body, your face going white and your mouth dropping open. Then another jolt shocked through you as you thought about what Kie had said. "JJ had found you."

"Oh God. What did he see? He must think I'm such a slut." You thought to yourself, suddenly feeling weak.

Your knees buckled and your legs crumpled from beneath you, suddenly landing you on the floor with your head in your hands.

"I fucked up. I-I really fucked up, Kie." You gasped, tears forming.

"How? What do you mean?" She bent down to be at your level. "What that scumbag did to you isn't your fault."

"It is. I- I stayed there. Oh God. What did JJ see? What did you see?"

Would the answers to either of those questions make you feel any better? Probably not. She ignored them and shook her head.

"It's not your fault. Come on, let's get you cleaned up." She said softly, holding out her hand for you to take.

You stayed on the floor and caught your breath, swallowing down your cries before you nodded and followed her to the bathroom, only then noticing that you were dressed in just a pair of damp underwear and a sweaty top. You peeled them off and sat in the tub, pulling your knees to your chest whilst Kie put in the plug and turned on the shower head. You didn't flinch at the initial coldness of the water hitting your back, nor the sudden burst of burning hot heat it released before levelling out to a nicer temperature. Your eyes remained fixed on the stained ivory in front of you whilst you mentally combed through all that you could remember from the past forty eight hours. It was strange, it was mostly patches of black, followed by vividly clear moments, followed by third person perspectives of yourself lying in that bed - like you'd somehow left your body. Or perhaps your mind was just trying to fill in the blanks.

"I'm going to get one of the boys to grab you a morning after pill from the pharmacy. Just to be safe... you know? I'll be gone for a minute. Is that okay?" Kie's soft voice momentarily broke you from your silent contemplation and you nodded, another jolt of horror rushing through you as you realised that Barry had in fact cum inside of you, multiple times.

"Had you given him permission to do that? Probably not. But at this point you deserved it and more." You thought to yourself.

The water slowly filled up the tub and more than a minute passed, though you didn't notice either things. Despite your disgust at what had happened, and much to your great shame, you wanted another hit. You wanted to take something strong. You wanted to feel anything other than what you were feeling. You wanted to forget about what Barry had done, what you had caused and what JJ had said. Now that you'd sobered up slightly it was playing in your head again - his harsh rejection - and you couldn't decide which trauma had been more embarrassing.

Meanwhile, JJ had just arrived as John B was leaving, and both he and Kie stopped the blonde before he could step into the house - concerned by the bruises and blood he was covered in.

"Dude, what the fuck happened? Where have you been?" John B questioned.

"Doesn't matter. Where's Y/N?"

"She's in the bath." John B answered, putting his hand on JJ's chest and stopping him from walking past "But bro, your face does not look good. Where the hell have you been all night? You didn't go back to Barry, did you? Or bother any kooks?"

"No I didn't go back there, and I didn't bother any kooks! Is she alright?" JJ huffed.

"She's... no she's not alright. I mean- she will be eventually. But right now... I don't know." Kie struggled to think of an answer, not wanting to set off the blonde all over again but not wanting to lie.

JJ nodded slowly and sucked in his lips, taking a deep breath and stressfully running his hand through his hair. He tried to distract himself from the rage that was bubbling up in his gut again.

"Where are you going then?" He turned to John B, who swallowed anxiously.

"The pharmacy. Y/N needs a morning after pill... So um- I should probably go now."

And with that he took off, not wanting to see JJ's reaction to that. The blonde was surprisingly un-reactive though, sucking air sharply through his teeth and taking another deep breath. Kie eyed him nervously, getting ready to launch herself at the boy in an attempt to stop him from jumping on his bike and speeding back to Barry's. A murder charge would not help anyone.

"More violence isn't going to help." She said slowly, like she was verbally defusing a bomb.

JJ looked ready to punch someone, more than that - ready to murder someone. But he stayed calm.

"I know... Do you think she wants to see me, or does she hate me now?"

Kie took a moment to respond, taken back by his uncharacteristic maturity, but when she did she almost scoffed at the obviousness, thinking to herself that at least one good thing could come of this.

"JJ- She's completely in love with you. I think that being with you would probably make her feel a little better right now... Just let her know that you love her too. She needs to know that."

JJ's lips almost allowed a weak smile, nodding at Kie gratefully before making his way into the house and going straight to the bathroom.

You were still in the tub, the water halfway full now, unmoved from the position you'd assumed after you first got in. You didn't look up at the sound of the door opening, nor at the sound of someone sitting on the toilet seat. You did look up however when you heard JJ's voice, confusion followed by shock slowly settling into your bloodstream.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry." He said lowly, taking in your disheveled appearance. "This is all my fault."

Light bruises had started to form on your neck and sides. There were scratches on your back and wine stain bite marks on your chest. But even without those telling remains of a sexual encounter, the damage would've been clear - at least somewhat. A distant look enveloped your eyes - more than just the distance that benzodiazepines gave you, a distance that could only be described as shell shocked - and your eyelids were red and puffy, with tears brimming in the waterline though your expression showed no emotion.

"JJ?" You barely parted your lips to whisper, half convinced that the boy in front of you was a vision concocted by your dissonant brain.

Your voice was so quiet that he didn't hear it over the pouring of the shower, and so he continued his pleading apology.

"I beat the shit out of him. I know that doesn't change anything, and I know it doesn't mean you should forgive me. It doesn't make anything better... I don't even know why I said that. I thought it would make you feel better but that was fucking dumb... I'm just- Jesus what am I even saying. I just want to tell you if there's anything I can do to make you feel better.. even if you want me to just leave you alone.. I'll do it. But I want you to know that I don't want to leave you alone. All of that shit I said at yours the other night- it was fucked up and I didn't mean it."

"JJ." You repeated his name louder, stopping his ramble as you pulled away from your knees.

His face was full of uncharacteristic anxiety, his mouth stopping slightly open and his eyes blinking rapidly, intensely focused onto yours. He didn't know why, but the sound of your voice surprised him.

"Stop... I'm fine." You said, your voice shaking slightly. "It was all my fault. You don't need to be saying all of this. I shouldn't have started using again."

JJ tutted and shook his head.

"Your fault? Don't say that. How could it be your fault?"

You thought of all the reasons that it might be. The fact that you'd been going there to buy drugs. The fact that you didn't try hard enough to stop him. The fact that you stayed there after the first time.

"I... I can't." You breathed out, the tears that had been brewing starting to quietly drip down your face. A tight constriction in your chest was stopping you from telling JJ exactly why it had been your fault, as was the loud shame in your head.

JJ quickly moved from the seat to the floor, crouching on the balls of his feet as he leaned in closer to you. He moved one of his hands to cup your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I'm sorry."

You warmed slightly into his hand, finding the same comfort in it that you had on your drunken nights together. You forgot everything that had happened for a moment, just feeling the loving touch of the boy that you craved so desperately.

"Stop acting like it's a big deal - please. You don’t need to be sorry." You mumbled.

JJ wanted to argue - he wanted to explain exactly why it was a big deal. But he saw how tired and still high you were and decided not to. He instead nodded and whispered "Okay."

A comfortable moment of silence passed between you both. JJ noticed that the water was getting high and turned off the shower, grimacing as he caught sight of the scratches on your back, remembering what he'd heard when he was crouched below the window of that house. Then he remembered what he'd decided out there - that you were his and he would keep you safe forever now. He picked up a soapy sponge and stared to gently wash your back, soothing you immensely. He'd planned on breaking the silence himself with a dramatic confession of his own love, but you beat him to it.

"Who'd you piss off?" You asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" He furrowed his brows in confusion.

"I mean your face is all fucked up." You responded, a hint of sarcasm in your tone that brought a small smile to JJ's face.

He chuckled slightly, trying to sound casual though there was an undertone of nerves to his voice.

"I think I'm in love with you, Y/N."

The thought that he might be imaginary once again struck you. You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling of his hand until you were convinced that he was real again.

"I don't know if I believe you." You mumbled, though a slight smile also pulled at the corners of your lips.

JJ moved his washing to your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he spoke.

"I'm serious. I- I've been completely obsessed with you since- well since we first met. That messy night at the Boneyard."

"Every night at the Boneyard is messy." You scoffed and JJ chuckled again.

"True. But I remember you were wearing that little, black skirt, and that white vest that I like.. with your leopard print bikini on underneath… and your hair was still long then."

"I don't even remember what I wore that night... but I remember Kie introducing me to you.. And I remember that Kook you threw your drink on."

A twinge of amusement ran up your spine and for the first time in weeks, you both felt like everything might work out okay. Another comfortable silence enveloped you both, the only sound being the sloshing of the water as JJ continued to gently wash you.

This continued for a short while, calming and peaceful, and you found yourself starting to feel extremely tired again.

"Can we go to bed?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Sure." He smiled, heart fluttering at the innocence of your question.

He pulled the plug out of the tub and rummaged through the laundry basket for a semi-clean towel whilst you washed the soap from your hair and then rose from the draining water. You stumbled slightly out of the tub, JJ surprised by your sudden movement and holding his hands out to catch you. When he started to dry you with the towel, you shook your head and took it from him.

"You don't need to do this. I'm fine." You said with a huff and he shot you an uncertain look.

"Don't treat me all different now. It's not that serious. I'm gonna get sober again." You justified, an ironic slur to your voice.

JJ wanted to argue but decided not to again. You weren't in the right state of mind - there was no point. But for you to say it wasn't that serious; it worried JJ.

He forced a smile though, only wanting to continue comforting you.

"I know you'll get sober again. I believe you. It was just a little slip up, right?"

You nodded, wrapping the towel around your body and heading towards the door before accidentally dropping it. Both of you giggled at that and JJ rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'll go get you some pyjamas. Just to be safe." He grinned, unable to not admire your body even when he was trying not to.

When he stepped out of the bathroom door and swiftly headed into his room, he was confused to see that John B was changing the sheets.

"What are you doing?" JJ asked as John B pulled on the last corner of the new cover.

John B was quick to notice that JJ's previous expression of solemn doom had turned into a more relaxed one.

"We'll talk later bro. The pill is on the side. Does she need anything? Maybe something to eat?"

"Nah she just wants to sleep. If she needs anything I can get it. But thanks dude."

They exchanged a meaningful smile before JJ grabbed a baggy top from his wardrobe and a pair of boxer shorts and then headed back into the bathroom. You put the clothes on and headed straight to his bed, flopping yourself onto the fresh sheets and curling up immediately, ready to sleep like a baby.

JJ needed to wash realistically - dried blood and sea water on various patches of his body - but he couldn't resist the allure of having your body tucked safely against his once he saw how comfortable you'd gotten. So he peeled off his clothes and crawled in beside you, holding you closely against him and inhaling the scent of your hair.

You loved being cuddled by JJ, there weren't many things that could beat it. The way he held you like he needed you filled the empty void inside of you without fail every time.

He kissed the back of your head, holding his lips there for a while before pulling away and whispering "I really do love you."

You were too tired to respond, just about to drift into the realm of complete unconsciousness. But a smile formed on your face nonetheless before you dropped into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

I just want to say that the doubt this character experiences around their assault is just representative of how I felt after my own and in no way reflects the way that anyone should have to feel. If you’ve been through this or something similar I just want to say it wasn’t your fault. My DMs are always open if u need it <3

[s3x-drvgs-and-bpd]

I want c0ke so bad

And then I wanna be fucked

[ut-girl666]

Funny/tragic idea for Starscream:

Starscream, has no fucking standards for a partner. And I mean that. His standards are literally:

- 75% chance they won’t drug him

- mildly respect a ‘no’

- don’t physically/consistently verbally abuse him

His standards are so low it’s sad. And that’s not even getting into his fucked up idea of consent.

Megatron is horrified. Someone get this baby a proper consent 101 class, and please pick up some standards when you’re passing by the store.

Because Star’s bar of standards is so low, it’s a tripping hazard in hell, and yet he somehow manages to find the mechs who use it to limbo dance with the devil.

Honestly the other few ‘con’s he’s close to who do have standards are just grateful that he ended up with Soundwave, or around them in general, because he is so vulnerable to just about anyone taking advantage and abusing him.

It takes Starscream an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that his standards are in fact garbage, and that he’s hit the jackpot in partners, being with Soundwave, and in coworkers with Megs, because they have a serious moral code about consent, and will be the first people to throw the book at anyone who dares to violate consent.

It’s funny, but in a dark, tragic way. Because you’d actually think that as a prince, he would have completely unattainable standards, but they’re actually nonexistent.

[springbandit]

"Oh, sure. If it makes a kid happy then, that's probably not a bad thing." he offered over the stuffed animal, bizarre crackling noises accompanying it as it went. "I can't really afford a room, but, I'm sure I have a few bucks somewhere to thank you.." he fumbled around his jeans pockets, but came back with nothing to show for it. "Yeah, I will. I'm coming now, sorry." he followed after the other, still quietly patting himself down. Asides from his mobile phone, he couldn't place anything else he usually carried with him. "So, is this, like, a hostel or...? Normally there aren't kids in hostels, well, not the ones I've been in. They're more for...people who avidly enjoy going a little overboard with substances. If you know what I mean." he raised his eyebrows, giving the other a quietened concerned look.

@lcvenderhcze

"YOU SHOULD DO THAT. OR.. YOU CAN GIVE IT TO ME AND I CAN BRING IT TO THE FARM SO IT CAN BE WASHED AND GIVEN TO A CHILD WHO I AM SURE WILL ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT." which.. of course, they could get other things and he had constant supplies coming in with everything - food, toys for the kids, clothes for the grown up's, but.. as far as he was concerned, it would never hurt to have some more. right? oh, yes. he thought so. "that is always a problem. no one deserves to be alone," that was... how he saw it, yes. or.. how he wanted to make other people believe that he saw it. "follow me, then?"

@springbandit

[loonadelfly]

>Do coke for 50 hours in a row

>Stay awake for 2 days

>Have the most fucked up nosebleed of your life and almost OD

>drink wine and repeat

[emotionaleating]

[opioidenjoyer]

Wish i could share this with all my drug mutuals, LOVE YALL STAY SAFE THIS WEEKEND 🪖❤️

❄️❗️

[springbandit]

"He's just getting...something. He'll be back." His brow furrowed slightly as the sentence hung in the air, the fog in his head thickening. What was Stu away getting? The thought slipped away the harder he tried to hold onto it. His eyes returned to Sam, confused and searching for answers neither of them had. "I think." He swallowed hard, "Doesn't matter. I can stand. I'm fine." his tone was defiant, though the effort he had to make to push himself up betrayed how much nothing he said was true. His hands found the wall, fingers splaying out as he clung to it for balance. After a few moments of clumsy scrabbling, he was upright, though his head lolled slightly to one side. "Good as new." He made sure to keep trying to steady himself, unable to really keep his gaze focussed on anything long enough to actually process it.

"Leaving like this...it's just gonna piss him off." he mumbled, voice quieter. now, like he was trying to reason with himself more than her. "You don't get it, Sam. This was...This was supposed to be..." he trailed off, frustration flickering across his features as he realised he didn't know how to finish his own thoughts. His fingers curled and he sniffled and sighed. "This isn't just...it's not right."

Billy looked at her again, the confusion and creeping desperation evident in his expression. "Let's just go."

@xtinyslip

"no. not stu." seriously? stu? she didn't think they were trusting the likes of him anymore as she moved forward to help. no, she wasn't going to just leave him in this state. she was getting him the hell out of there. "… it's me." trying to hide the emotion from her voice as she approached, now she had a better idea that it was safe. "i came for you." it felt obvious. "i don't care whether he's coming back. he'll be coming back to an empty room. he seriously left you like this?" she could feel her hands curling into fists at her sides. all she knew was that he wasn't staying here, that wasn't happening.

"… can you stand? we might need back up." well aware that the idea may not go down the best but she'd rather her help than his help. what help was his actually doing? "… once i get you out of here. we'll figure it out. okay? you're going to be okay." @springbandit

[reginalusus]

Babe, please spill any angsty headcanons you have for Jason and Harvey!! I'm especially curious about Harvey's drug use.

Idk why, but I just love seeing my favs go through it💞💖💞💖

Ohhhh, of course, lovie, mwuhaha.

Now, I don't know if you mean Harvey and Jason as separate characters or together as a duo, so I shall do both. I'll put it under the cut since there may be triggering stuff.

Jason - He wants someone to be proud of him. Jason has always been one to strive to do what he thinks is best, and it's not that he expects thanks for it, but after trudging through his own version of Hell and reforming himself into a questionable saviour of Gotham despite everything that has been hammered into him as Robin, he'd just love a proud smile, a nod of acknowledgement. From someone. Anyone. To let him know he's doing something right. To let him know that he at least kept some semblance of the boy he was. - Said it before on the animation post, but, Jason will crawl into dark shadows when he's having a PTSD episode. Bruce always told him the shadows are somewhere that he could recover, that he was safe there. - "He took me away from you. So why couldn't you have done it for me?" - Jason feels like an anachronism whenever he is around the rest of the Batfamily. He's there with them as Red Hood, but they want him to be Robin - his Robin is from a different lifetime, a different era - so his placement feels wrong. He's in none of the recent photos, none of the memories on the walls. He's 'wrong'. - Jason's chest tightens at rising voices. He still looks for the nearest table to hide under sometimes, even if he'd do no such thing anymore. - While he was being tortured by Joker, he called out for his dead mother, not just Batman.

Harvey - Harvey has BDD, which developed in his early 20s. The tabloids who were against his running for DA/Mayor would use the 'Apollo' title to render him to a 'pretty boy lawyer'. It bordered on objectification. The scarring only made things worse. He still runs his hands along his face and tries to see what they saw.

- Because Harvey's DID is not normal, and he and Scarv alt between one another quite quickly sometimes, Harvey is burdened with physical pain the majority of the time. Headaches and jaw tension from the switching, and a dry, sore throat from the voice. He practically eats painkillers, and keeps them absolutely everywhere. - Additionally to that, Harvey may have an addiction problem with them. It hurts to hurt. But it hurts even more to not hurt - it's what he's used to. - "Anytime someone lays a hand on me, a touch of love, a gentle graze, I can feel it: they're trying to rip the Harvey Dent out of me. They're trying to bring a dead man back to life." - In his childhood, even after his father beat him to half-death in a drunken stupor, he'd still try to hug him. - Uhhhh, I don't wanna just come outright and say he hurts himself. He already does that in different ways. But he does it bluntly for a slightly different reason. Like. I feel like I explained it in my fic decently enough:

And that actually breaks us neatly into...

Harvey and Jason - Jason has a hard time time accepting that Harvey isn't going to live forever. He thinks of this in the same way that kids do when they start to realize that their parents won't be with them forever. That void in them starts to form, and they prepare for it to stay empty. - Jason will routinely help out Harvey during depressive episodes by doing menial things that Harvey is too exhausted to do i.e. clearing out the ashtrays when they're full of butts, always keeping a spare pack of ibuprofen on him just in case, hiding drugs etc. (and he's a Drug Lord, so he knows exactly how to do that efficiently). - Harvey wishes Jason would call him 'dad'. Even just once. - Jason wants to do 'normal' things sometimes, rather than the usual crime shtick (their jobs, essentially, which is what their dynamic revolves around). Normal, boring things rather than cigarette breaks, like watching TV together, maybe going to the cinema etc. Harvey would like to have public outings with him too, but refuses. Everyone knows who he is. Jason can sort of get away with appearing normally in public. Harvey can't. And Harvey hates himself for it. - Sometimes Jason will accidentally call Harvey 'Bruce' during PTSD episodes. - Although they very rarely, if ever, hug or come into physical contact with each other, Jason finds the scent of Harvey extremely comforting in those moments they do hug because it's consistent: he always smells like tobacco, bourbon and expensive, heavy aftershave. Think of it as a child finding comfort in holding and taking in every sense of their parent's clothes after they've passed. - That kid is not your son. You're right. He's OUR son. He wants you gone, he sticks around cuz' it's useful. If it makes him happy. - Harvey will joke about killing Jason a second time, and about how fitting it would be to kill him in his second life, but he dreads there ever being a night where an outing may go wrong and he has to be the one to mourn over his second death. - Jason wishes Harvey was happy. - Harvey wishes Jason was happy.

[perkyaddict]

I'm slumped asf lmaooo 😴💀

How cute 🥺🥺