#dying is one thing but dying from puking and horrible pain is another thing

[ivaalo]

I cooked some raw meat yesterday and I'm still not dead from indigestion!

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Saline Solution

Synopsis: Logan never would have thought such a thing could happen to him. Maybe someone more naive; someone more lovesick, but not him. And yet, as he leans over his toilet, a mess of blood and speckled flower petals clouding the water below, Logan can't deny he's infected. Infected with love. Infected with pain. Infected with Hanahaki.

Relationships: Romantic Logince, Platonic Analogical and Loceit

General Warnings: This fic will contain graphic descriptions of blood, vomit, pain, and suffocation, but is otherwise a love story :)

Notes: this is my fic for @sandersidesbigbang ! it was... a bit of a process finishing this (and by "this" i mean "chapter one") with the medical hell i've gone through this past year, but i'm proud to have anything at all to post. i'd like to extend gratitude to my beta @lost-in-thought-20 , and my amazing artists @failingatfailing (whose art can be found here) and @dystopiagnome (whose art can be found here). thank you guys so much for your patience with me, thank you to the people who hosted the event, and thank you to those who read this for showing support to not only my work, but the artists' and betas' works and effort, and the other writers' who's stories are just as amazing.

Part One: I Think This Time I'm Dying Masterlist AO3

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Logan’s stomach twists with hellish cramps; a heavy stone forming in his diaphragm. There’s an ever-present urge to vomit, but Logan doesn’t feel like his stomach holds anymore. After all, he’d already emptied a lot of his contents into the toilet bowl he’s currently slouching over. 

And he’s just… staring. 

His throat burns from the stomach acid that ripped through it, but he doesn’t bother to get up and get water. He’s too distracted. 

Mixed in with the off-white bile staining the water are specks of blood, slowly dissipating to taint the water the lightest of reds. But equally visible, floating atop the water, is a petal. 

It’s white. At least, it was white. A few drops of blood from Logan’s coughing decorates the item, but it was originally just a singular white rose petal. And as Logan sniffles, he swallows down another retch, though his mouth burns due to him choking down the acid desperately trying to escape. 

He needs water to wash away the metallic taste in his mouth. 

An alarm on his phone rings; it’s a blaring reminder set to alert him that he should be up and brushing his teeth, beginning his before-school routine. Unfortunately, a horrible twisting in his stomach had knocked him awake earlier in the morning, meaning he’d been awake a lot earlier than he’d wanted to be. 

He turns his head to the side, resting his cheek on his arm as he stares up at the counter where his phone rests, vibrating. 

He needs to get up. 

Shakily, he pushes himself to a stand, where he’s unsteady on his feet and once more overcome with nausea. For a moment, he thinks he’s just going to crumple and puke again, but he doesn’t. He catches a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror as he silences his alarm, and sees a few stray drops of blood on his lips. Gross. 

He grabs a washrag, and turns the hot water on in the sink as he places the rag underneath it. Folding his glasses to the side, he then holds the steaming rag to his face, sucking in the hot air as the damp rag wipes at his pores and his mouth, cleansing him of the dirt and the blood built up on his visage. 

The blurry figure he sees in the mirror across from him looks disheveled. Despite throwing up, he’s pale, with pronounced eyebags no doubt formed from being forced awake so early. 

He then dips his face towards the sink, swallowing down lukewarm water before gurgling it in his mouth, and spitting it up. Logan’s not blind to the red tint he sees when he spits it out, but he ignores it regardless. 

After brushing his teeth, he quickly flushes the toilet, dragging the rose petal into the sewers, before heading back to his room. 

He’s quick to get dressed and ready, but he lingers by the bathroom on his way out the door. If there’s anything left in his system, he should probably get it out now. He coughs into his hand, and the double checks to see if there’s any blood spatter. And when there isn’t any, he heads outside. 

His parents' cars are already gone, leaving the driveway unblocked for Logan to pull out, and the drive to school is silent. No radio, no music, no pleasant chatter as a result of carpooling. Just himself and the sound of his breathing. 

He’s one of the first in the school building, but he doesn’t mind. The first place he goes is to the library, into the nonfiction section, and deep into the aisles. 

There’s no specific author he’s searching for, but there is a specific book he has in mind. Or, more accurately, a genre of book. Sure, his phone was at his immediate disposal, but he doesn’t want quick answers and easy five-minute “fixes.” He wanted firsthand accounts, and actual descriptions of what was happening. Of what was going to happen.

Because Logan has a general idea, but he wants to know the extent. 

He swallows the spit in his mouth. Does he… does he actually want to know? Well, of course he wants to know, but will knowing really help anything?

He shakes his head. Of course knowing will help. It has to. 

Eventually, Logan’s fingers come to rest on the spine of a book by Alec Vyuga. A man who lived years and years ago. It’s a translation of the Russian version, but it’s a book about this rare disease nonetheless. 

The flower disease. The love sickness. 

Logan pulls it off the shelf. He flips it open, and sees recreations of the human anatomy detailed with the sprawling roots of roses, curling around the lungs and reaching through the airways of a faceless drawing. Twisted together into a wonderful bouquet emerging from the mouth of a victim. But it was just a depiction. 

Eyes darting to the description underneath the sketch reads the following: “A detailed replication of the final stages of Hanahaki, as it appears during a vivisection. Victim lifespan past this stage is as short as minutes, all the way down to mere seconds. Suffocation is inevitable.” 

Inevitable. 

Logan closes the book and sighs. How depressing of a concept this was. He’d normally find such a thing fascinating, but it’s hard to be fascinated by something actively killing you. 

Because that’s what was happening. Supposedly. For all Logan knows, he could have mistakenly swallowed a petal the day before, gotten it lodged in his throat, and coughed it up this morning all without realizing. Of course, that wouldn’t explain the blood, but not all questions have answers. This one definitely did, though, which was both relieving to Logan’s inquisitive side, and horrifying to his emotional one. 

He brings the book up to the front desk, and the librarian looks at the cover, and then for the barcode. She looks remorseful. 

“Dangerous disease, that one,” she states, as her scanner beeps. “Happening to someone you know?” 

“No,” Logan answers, as she hands the book back to him. “I’m just curious.” 

She nods, but her only response is “two weeks. And if you’d like an extension, you can always stop by before then.” 

Logan leaves the library. He adjusts the straps of his backpack, and holds his book to his chest protectively. The title is pressed against his front, leaving just the summary on the back, as if hiding the contents from any wandering eyes.

He slides into his home economics class, blessed to have something easy as his first class due to wanting to read, only to see the words “Group Projects Begin Today” scrawled in white chalk across the blackboard.  

Sighing, Logan feels the urge to slump his head down onto his desk. He’ll have the time to read later, of course, but he’d rather just do it now and get it over with! He thirsts for knowledge, after all, and Hanahaki was slowly becoming one of his newfound interests. 

The class slowly starts to fill in, and sliding next to him is a bigger kid, in a tight white shirt. 

“Hi, Logan,” Roman greets him, as he attempts to stuff a thick packet into an already-full red folder. Roman’s thick upper arm rubs against Logan’s, and Logan’s chest tightens. 

“Hi, Roman,” Logan parrots, peeking over at Roman’s papers. Along the front are music notes with cues here and crescendos there. Across the top is the title “Little Shop Of Horrors.” Logan’s eyes dart down to the lyrics, witnessing a brief interaction between two characters, in which one gets a mask stuck to his face. The other part - Seymour, if Logan could read that correctly - was highlighted. 

As Roman finally gets it shoved in the folder, Logan’s left to watch as Roman then struggles to get it into his backpack, which is just as crammed with stuff. 

Moments later, the teacher walks in, and as if on cue a bell rings shortly after. 

She wastes no time grabbing a piece of chalk, and very quickly drawing out a picture of a potted plant. It’s very basic; a stem growing from a very childish drawing of a flowerpot, with two leaves on the end. She punctuates the last line of the drawing with a hit against the chalkboard, grabbing the attention of the few students still murmuring, including Roman, who had turned in his seat to talk to a friend behind him. 

“Alright, class!” the teacher - Ms. Spring - begins, smoothing out her skirt as she looks across the room. “Today, we’re beginning our semester-long project, whose intention is to teach you about care, nurture, patience, and perception!” She taps beneath her eye, widening it for a touch of comedy, before she straightens up again. “Of course, we’ll be doing other stuff over these nine weeks. Don’t think you’ll be getting out of work permanently, but outside of school you guys will be expected to be focusing on this.” 

She grabs a pile of papers from her desk, and begins walking around passing them out. Weirdly, each table - of two - gets a singular packet, which has Logan’s heart beating a touch faster as their packet is set between him and Roman. 

“As some of you might notice, not everyone is being given a packet. That’s because this project will be done with a partner.” 

Immediately, chatter bursts forth, as people signal each other from across the room in order to secure a partner. Some kids look around wildly, in such a manner that Logan would think they’re back in elementary school playing dodgeball, and not in a high-school science class. 

“But,” Ms. Spring continues, clapping her hands together, “those partners have already been decided by me. Your partner will be your desk mates. That way nobody is left out!” 

A mixture of quiet cheers and destroyed groans reach Logan’s ears, as he feels a weird clog in his throat. He feels the urge to cough, but he represses it, as he glances over at Roman, who looks rather neutral about the situation, neither pleased or displeased. 

Behind them, Roman’s friend makes an offhand comment about making the most of a bad situation, and Logan can’t interpret whether he’s talking about himself, or to Roman. 

His gut swells with pain, cramping horribly. 

Reaching forward, he pulls the packet to him and begins to flip through it, noting a variety of different measurements, lines, and instructions to detail steps taken throughout the process. And when scanning over what the aforementioned process is, it’s the process of growing a plant. 

“Each pair will pick a type of plant to grow from my collection of seeds,” Ms. Spring states, as she spreads a handful of seed packets over the front desk. “Once you do, you’ll be given a pot, some fertilizer, and a page of instructions on the basics of caring for a plant. Now come on! It’s first come first serve.” 

Roman pushes himself out of his seat quicker than Logan can blink, and Logan’s hand is being grabbed as he’s tugged away from the table and towards the front. His hip clips the side of the furniture and makes him wince briefly in pain, but what hurts more is the acid crawling up his throat, and the thin, easily tearable item Logan can feel mashed between his tongue and his teeth. 

He feels like he’s going to vomit. 

Roman’s rather big - muscular, sure, but otherwise wide; he’d be threatening if Logan didn’t already know he was quite the sap - but that means he’s easily able to push past the group at the front and get a good look at the options. 

Logan is pulled to his side, but he hardly even gets a chance to look over what’s available before Roman’s grabbing one outright and cheering in victory, a jubilant sound better suited for winning a football game than grabbing a flower seed. 

Then, Logan’s being pulled back towards their table, stopping just a few paces short as Roman holds out the seed he grabbed in his hand, his other holding Logan’s rather firmly. 

“A rose,” Roman proudly exclaims, before he finally pulls his hand away from Logan’s and holds it to his heart. “How romantic. I was hoping I’d get this one.” 

Logan’s floating feeling crashes at Roman’s choice of words, and then he’s quickly turning and speed-walking out of the room, barely managing to grasp the bathroom pass and run down the hall. 

He bursts into the bathroom and pushes his way into a stall before collapsing onto his knees and hurling over the toilet. Acid comes spilling out of him, burning his throat as a mixture of bile and blood lands in the water below him. How familiar. 

The smooth item that was in his mouth previously once more floats atop the water, though this time appearing significantly more stained and shredded by Logan’s teeth and the blood he’d been suppressing inside of his mouth. 

He pants, as blood trickles from the corners of his mouth into the water below, making a soft splashing sound as they drip into the water below. 

Slowly, Logan unfurls a few pieces of toilet paper, and brings them to his mouth, soaking them in his blood. 

There’s a lot more compared to this morning. He expected this amplification to be more gradual, and yet a few touches and words thrown his way and Logan was left to vomit up his feelings in a high-school bathroom. Gross. 

He folds the toilet paper up, but before dropping it in he starts coughing hard. Quickly, he cups his hands to his mouth, toilet paper folded within them to keep his hands clean, before he coughs up hard enough to dislodge something from his throat. 

In his hands sits a clump of petals. They’re joined together only with blood, causing them to clump and curl. They’re so stained that it’s hard to even tell they were once white. 

He holds them. He stares at them. 

The bathroom door creaks open, and Logan scrambles to get up and slam the stall door shut, locking it behind him. More blood drips from his face, and onto the ground. Even though he can’t see whoever walked in, he knows that flinging the stall door shut would have dragged their attention towards him. 

The other person who walked into the bathroom hesitates, before there’s a quiet “uhm… hey, look, if you’re on your period or something I have pads in my bookbag. Don’t feel pressured to take them or anything but… you’re kind of making a mess.” 

Logan recognizes the voice, and after some brief internal debating, he unlocks the stall and cracks it open, coming face to face with a semi-awkward, semi-uncomfortable Virgil. 

“Logan?” Virgil immediately questions, reaching forward to pry the stall door fully open, which makes Logan stumble backwards. He goes to reach for the handle to flush the toilet, but neglects to remember the petals in his hand or the blood wiped over his face. 

Virgil, however, notices these things immediately. 

“Oh my god…” Virgil utters, as Logan slips on his own blood and falls back, landing with his ass on the ground, leaning back against the toilet he was heaving over moments before. The toilet paper he was holding is crumpled as he squeezes it hard, causing blood to smear over his palms. 

Logan watches as Virgil’s eyes drift from Logan’s body, to the bloody petals, and then back to Logan. They’re wide. 

Logan knows that Virgil knows, and Virgil can see how badly Logan wishes he didn’t. 

There’s silence between them, before Virgil’s letting his bookbag fall to the ground with a thump. He turns around and walks to the sink, grabbing a handful of paper towels and getting them wet, before he’s coming back to Logan. 

He kneels down, and then he’s pressing the paper to Logan’s face, silently helping him wipe the blood off. 

Logan cringes at the rough wipes, but otherwise stays silent, watching as Virgil dumps the bloodied towels into the toilet despite not being supposed to. Even though he’s disgusted, Virgil even picks up the clumped flowers, wrapping them up, and tossing them into the toilet as well. 

“You’re sick,” Virgil then says, as he goes from his knees to his ass, sitting directly across from Logan. Logan sighs, deep and heavy. 

“Yeah.” 

“For who?” 

This is where Logan hesitates, which has Virgil sighing in turn. 

“I’m going to tell Janus.” 

Immediately, Logan’s eyes flicker upwards. He’s hardly able to utter a “please, don’t,” before Virgil is raising his hand in a “stop” motion. He doesn’t look happy or malicious at all, but it’s clear he’s being earnest. 

“He’s going to find out sooner or later, and I know you’re not going to tell him. Hell, you wouldn’t have even told me. But if he has to find out on his own, he’s going to be upset.” 

That is true. Both are true, actually. As much as Logan doesn’t want to tell Janus, it’s sort of hard to repress an illness whose symptoms are very physically taxing. But he wishes he could have waited a bit before he told either of his friends. He himself didn’t even realize anything was wrong internally until a couple days ago, and until this morning, he had no idea what sickness he’d contracted. 

“Do you even know who this sickness is over?” 

“No,” Logan lies, almost immediately. He has a hypothesis, of course, but he’d rather not share his newfound lovelife with a friend of his, especially because the fact it’s unrequited makes him feel a certain level of embarrassment. 

Virgil sighs again, rubbing his face this time. His eyes are shut in concentration and distress brought on by the amount of information he’s suddenly been forced to process. “Okay. Okay.” 

Logan can’t help but huff out a small laugh. “You seem more stressed about this than I am.” 

Dramatically, Virgil throws his hands into the air. “I don’t think you’re stressed enough!” 

The implications of Virgil’s words hang in the air for a moment. There’s a lot Logan could, and to some extent should, be worried about. But, he can’t bring himself to acknowledge those things yet. After all, most of the dangers come after the sickness has progressed, and it’s still in the early stages! 

Logan will read that book, learn the symptoms, and understand how to manage them while he has the disease. And then, he’ll get the surgery! Plain and simple; no unnecessarily complicated feelings to hinder him! He might as well experience such a rare thing firsthand. At least, that’s what he says to calm himself down as the metallic taste of blood taints his taste buds. 

Logan licks his lips. “Water?” he questions, and watches as Virgil leans back to rummage through his bag, before sighing and shaking his head. 

“I don’t have a bottle on me. There’s a fountain right outside, though.” 

“I need to get back to class anyway.” 

Virgil bites his lip. “Are you… are you sure, man? I’m sure if you tell the nurse you threw up she’ll let you go home and rest.” 

Logan spits the remaining blood out of his mouth and into another wad of toilet paper. He stands and brushes himself off, before checking his clothes for any blood that might have spilled onto him. 

He also uses some more toilet paper to wipe off the floor, making sure any traces of his disease are cleaned entirely, before flushing the toilet again.

“We’re starting a group project in science class,” Logan explains briefly. “I need to get my partner’s information down so we can discuss the nature of such outside of school.” 

Virgil moves to wash his hands, before shoving them deep into his pockets, while Logan leans over the sink to wash his fingers free of blood more thoroughly. Virgil watches as he drags the soap under his fingernails, between each fold of skin, over his palms two or three times before he eventually decides to rinse and dry. 

“Geez. Is it going to be that much work?” 

Logan shrugs at the question. “We’re growing and tending to a plant. I probably missed Ms. Spring going over the rubric, but we’ll be given a copy. I assume the thresholds involve keeping the plant alive and documenting the process.” 

“That sounds fun.” Virgil grabs his bag and then follows Logan out of the bathroom. “I guess.” 

Logan bends over the fountain and drinks enough water to fully wash out the taste of blood, swishing it between his teeth. To avoid grossing Virgil out, he doesn’t spit the water down the drain, but swallows it instead, although that seems to make Virgil cringe anyway. 

“If it gets worse, let me know, okay?” Virgil then says, as Logan prepares to head back to class. “Let us know. Janus and I.” 

They both know there’s little Virgil or Janus could do to help, but it’s the thought that counts, Logan supposes. So, he sighs, and agrees, promising he’ll let them know if… or, when, things eventually escalate. 

Then he heads back to class. 

He hangs the bathroom pass back up and apologizes to the teacher for rushing out, vaguely expressing it was an emergency. She waves him off, expressing that Roman heard the instructions and can relay them to Logan, but if he has any questions he can ask her or send an email. 

Roman’s turned around again, talking, but looks back when he hears Logan’s chair scrape against the floor. 

“You okay?” he asks, more so out of courtesy than any genuine concern. Logan appreciates the effort nonetheless. 

“Yeah,” Logan responds, as he scoots his chair closer to Roman, using the excuse of looking at the packet as a reason to move closer. “What’d I miss?” 

Roman slides the packet so it’s perfectly in the middle of them. Roman’s signed both of their names prettily at the top, and already filled in the type of flower they’d be growing. Additionally, there’s a pot on their table now. It’s not filled with dirt yet, but the baggie with the fertilizer and the packet of seeds sit inside. 

“Just general rules and stuff,” Roman shrugs, as he twirls his pen between his fingers. “We have to take care of the plant together, take pictures as it grows, measure it… all that stuff.” 

There’s not much class time left, but Roman doesn’t ask for Logan’s personal information. He doesn’t ask for a phone number, nor does he ask for an address, which means Logan will have to. 

But, actually speaking the words makes his stomach twist uncomfortably, and Logan really isn’t in the mood to vomit again. However, Roman’s a bit airheaded and probably doesn’t even realize they need a way to communicate outside of school, especially since they’ll need to meet up frequently for the project. 

So, Logan has to metaphorically bite the bullet and speak first. 

He suppresses a gag, before going “can I have your phone number?” Roman side eyes him at the question, giving Logan the need to quickly clarify “for the project.” He takes his moment to clear his throat, and feels the urge to get more water. “That way we can organize meetups to make sure we’re sharing responsibility for the plant.”

“Oh,” Roman responds, before he unlocks his phone. “That makes sense.” 

He slides it over to Logan, allowing him to make a contact. Logan’s fingers hesitate over Roman’s screen, but after a moment he quickly types down all of his information before gently nudging Roman’s phone back over. 

“I’ll take the plant home with me tonight,” Roman then says, as he grabs the pot and pulls it close to him. “My bedroom faces the sun in the morning, and a nice big window funneling sunlight is exactly what a new plant needs.” 

“Along with water and dirt, I suppose,” Logan comments. Roman rolls his eyes at the obviousness of Logan’s interjection. 

He does notice how Roman carefully organizes his bag around the pot, though, making sure his folders are bent in a way that won’t jostle or break the plant if the bag is set down too hard, or in the case of a mishap. Clearly, he’s trying to take care of it, though Logan’s unsure if Roman cares more about the grades or the roses. No matter what it is, at least Logan’s guaranteed the plant will be safe. 

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Logan says, as he tucks the packet into his own folder, packing his own stuff up. 

Roman huffs out a laugh in response. “I guess,” he chuckles, as if Logan’s statement was unnatural. And Logan wants to cringe at himself for forgoing his typically formal poise and being weirder, but he instead focuses on the sound of Roman’s laugh, taking the time to memorize it as the bell rings and Roman walks out the door, leaving Logan carelessly behind.

[myinnerchildletters]

7/19/2023: Fears

Let's write down some of your fears, OK?

Darkness

Cold

Being trapped

Parents

Throwing up

Being sick (in general)

Eating too much like a greedy pig

Death

Ghosts

Space aliens

Monsters

Great! Why are you afraid of each one?

Darkness: Because it's dark and scary and I can't see anything, and I feel like I'm trapped. I get scared when the power goes out. What if it's dark forever?

Cold: The cold makes me feel trapped because I can't leave the house, and I just hate the cold in general. I hate it because it makes me miserable and shivery. It's awful. I hate winter because it's cold AND dark. I feel trapped inside.

Being trapped: I'm so afraid of being trapped anywhere. I always need a way to leave. I can't stand being in one place for long, especially all day. It makes me go crazy! I also hate it when the power goes out for this reason. If the power goes out, it's probably not safe on the roads because it's winter or storming, so it's dark, cold AND silent! I hate it!

Parents: I'm afraid of my parents because what if they're not real? Also, when I'm anxious around them, they make it worse. They freak out or they don't do anything or try that "tough love" thing and just make me freak out even more. They're the worst at handling it! Also, my dad and mom scream at me all the time. I hate being around them on the weekends! Mom yells a lot when we're alone, too.

Throwing up: I HATE throwing up. It makes me feel awful. It's so sick and disgusting! It's horrible! I'll probably get in trouble if I throw up, too. I bet my mom won't like it. It's the WORST THING, I hate it! It means I'm sick, too, and I'm afraid of being sick!

Being sick (in general): Sickness means there's something wrong with your body. I'm afraid of catching a virus or dying. Also, you might have vomiting and diarrhea, and that's gross. I don't like staying home from school much because it's weird and dark.

Eating too much like a greedy pig: That's disgusting. People who do that are SO gross. I would feel really bad about myself and think I'm gross and a fatty. My mom probably said once that I would get fat. Sweets and desserts can be gross sometimes. I hate it when other people are greedy. Slow down your eating! Some people eat way too much, and there's starving people in other countries! I wish I could help them! Don't people feel bad when they eat like that, knowing people are starving in other parts of the world? Gross! Also, if they eat so much they puke, that's just nasty! Anyone who does that is a gross, nasty person! YUCK!

Death: I'm afraid of pain, darkness and nothingness. When I think of death, I just see darkness and silence like a black landscape.

Ghosts: Ghosts are really scary. What if somebody came back to haunt me? A dead person? They're not supposed to be here! If ghosts are real, I'm afraid of hearing voices and seeing things and somebody following me around, especially if I don't know about it!

Space aliens: Those are so scary. Creatures from another planet? What if they visit me? Don't visit me, please! I would be so scared! Even if they're nice aliens, they're still kind of like monsters. They might visit me in the dark!

Monsters: I'm afraid of monsters in the dark! Sometimes, when I lie on my side, I'm afraid that something's behind me. But if I lie on my back, I might see something scary. I'm scared of the dark so bad! Anything could be in the darkness! Something might pop out and scare me! I'm so afraid of the dark.

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Cold Vodka, Warm Hands (N.R.)

Words: 1.6k

The icy wind whipped across my face as I peered through the scope. The frigid metal of the Barrett M82A1 felt comforting in my hands. The cold never bothered me, of course. Due to my pyrokinesis, I had complete control over my own body temperature.

There wasn’t a sound for miles and, somehow, it was both peaceful and unnerving. The snow crunched with any and all movement, so we were staying unbearably still. I slowly scanned the abandoned factory for our target; a Russian arms dealer who was planning on stealing some alien tech and selling it for profit. We were about 1,500 yards from the factory. There’s not much cover out here, so our choice of positions was very limited. The shot would be a difficult one, with the distance and the crosswinds, but this is my specialty. Well, it used to be, before I discovered my ability to manipulate heat and fire. I’m one of SHIELD’s best sharpshooters.

As I checked once more for the target, a chattering noise distracted me from my task. I pulled my face away from my rifle to look at my partner, who was laying next to me, prepared to range the target and gauge the wind. Her lips were turning a shade of purple, and her teeth were chattering from the cold.

“Are you okay, Agent Romanoff?”

“Mhm.”

“Sure. Aren’t you Russian?” She leveled me with a hard glare and I slightly raised my hands in the air and went back to my task.

I noticed some movement through the scope. “Target, 11 o’clock.” 

“Oblique wind from the left, 8 miles per hour,” she called out.

I adjusted the scope accordingly and took the shot. Clean kill. No witnesses. Objective complete. I quickly unloaded the rifle and slung it over my shoulder as Agent Romanoff packed up. To say I was relieved the mission was over would be an understatement; this woman is practically a walking gay panic, and the mission had done nothing to help with my not-so-small crush on her. I risked a glance at her as we walked side by side. She looked freezing. Her right hand was in her pocket, but her left was exposed since one of her holsters blocked the left pocket.

“Is there any particular reason you’re staring at me, Agent y/l/n?” Shit.

“Oh, I- uh, I- um, can I hold your hand?” Her head snapped around to look at me as I realized what I said. “I just mean that, um, you look really cold and I can, you know, warm up your hand, at the very least. With my p-powers.” She didn’t say anything as she blankly stared at me, and I was worried that I had crossed a line until she abruptly stuck out her hand. I stared at the appendage for a second before realizing what she meant. I grabbed her hand in mine and focused on my powers, being careful to not let my hand get too hot.

We walked hand-in-hand the whole way to the safehouse. I could hear her sniffle every once in a while, but I didn’t say anything out of fear of getting punched. As we entered the safehouse, I realized it was more of a shack than anything. The walls were plywood and the whole thing was only one room. The kitchen area had a couple of cabinets and a small gas stove, and there was only one fairly small bed, as well as a small fireplace.

“Huh. This is…”

“Horrible. This is really horrible,” she finished for me. I couldn’t help but notice how nasally her voice sounded. 

I slid the bags off her shoulders and set them down next to mine. She sent me a questioning look as I walked her to the edge of the bed and sat her down. I said nothing as I grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Sit here. Don’t move. Please.”

I walked around the room, lighting the oil lanterns. I grabbed some firewood from the pile and stacked it in the fireplace, using my powers to light a fire. I went into the ‘kitchen’ and rummaged through the cupboards. I heated a can of soup in my hands and poured it into a bowl. I found some teabags and heated some water the same way, since it was faster.

I brought the tea and soup over to Natasha, placing them on the stand next to the bed. She made no move to grab either item, too busy looking at me with a bewildered expression.

“What? You need to warm up. You’re already getting sick.”

“Why are you taking care of me?” She asked as I helped her move up against the headboard and under the covers.

I handed her the soup and said, “Well, you’re my partner— on the mission, I mean. It’s my job to protect you...on the mission.”

She hummed and I left to hang up our clothes to dry. I grabbed the second bowl of soup and sat in the bed next to her, as far away as physically possible.

“I don’t bite, you know. You can sit closer. You’re gonna fall off the bed,” she said amusedly.

“Right, sorry. Just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“I’m perfectly comfortable, minus the fact that it’s still freezing in here.”

After we finished our soup, we went to bed since there was nothing else for us to do. I was woken up in the middle of the night by Natasha’s fit of sneezing and coughing. I sat up and patted her back as she coughed. That sounded painful. I got out of bed and brought her a roll of toilet paper since there were no tissues. I made her another cup of tea before getting back in bed. I could see her shivering as she sipped the hot beverage, and I had an internal debate with myself. Before I could chicken out, I slid closer to her and wrapped my arms around her, focusing on my powers.

“What are you doing?” She asked through her chattering teeth.

“Warming you up,” I replied simply.

“You’re gonna get sick.”

“I’m not gonna get sick, you baby. Just let me hold you.” She stopped protesting after that and continued drinking her tea. Once she was done, she set it on the stand. She snuggled further into my arms and we moved to lay down. I felt her breathing even out as her muscles relaxed. I fought off the exhaustion; if I fell asleep, my body would return to its normal temperature. I tried not to freak out at the feeling of having in her arms, knowing that after this mission, we’d go back to being just teammates.

Morning rolled around and I watched the sky lighten through the only window in the safe house. I hadn’t left the bed all night, aside from the two times I added wood to the fire. As the sun peaked over the horizon, Natasha stirred in my arms.

“Morning,” she rasped out. Oh my god, her morning voice is gonna be the death of me.

“Uh, morning,” I replied, clearing my throat. She sat up and looked over my face, suddenly making me very self-conscious.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Uh, no, not really. I stayed awake to keep my body warm for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that, y/n.”

“No, it’s— I didn’t mind. Do you feel any better?”

“Well, I don’t feel like I’m dying anymore. It’s still cold as hell, though. You know what I really need?”

“What?”

“Some nice, cold vodka,” she said with a small, genuine smile.

“Oh! I have some of that!”

“You brought vodka on a mission?” She raised an eyebrow as her lips curved into a smirk.

“Yes— no, well, kind of. I bought it on the way here. Nothing like Russian vodka, right?”

I walked over to my duffel bag and pulled out the bottle of vodka. I grabbed two mugs from the kitchen, as well as a package of crackers. I slid back into the bed and she raised an eyebrow at the crackers.

“What? I’m not letting you drink vodka on an empty stomach. I don’t wanna get puked on,” I said with a joking grimace, although I really didn’t want to get puked on. 

She laughed as she poured some vodka into the mugs. I opened the crackers and set the package on the bed, and she handed me one of the mugs.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?” I said, then we clinked the mugs together and I grimaced at the burn.

“Ugh, why does it have to be so cold? Can we just stay in bed?” That is definitely the closest Natasha Romanoff has ever gotten to whining, and it was adorable.

“Well, our extraction isn’t until this afternoon, so yeah, for a while.” She pushed herself back into my body, and I wrapped my arms around her after recovering from the brief shock.

Three hours later, we were packing up and getting ready to hike to the extraction point. I put out all of the lanterns before leaving the safe house. Natasha stuck out her hand and I wrapped it in mine without hesitation. It wasn’t all that cold out anymore, but I didn’t say anything about it. We made it to the extraction point in about thirty minutes, her hand never dropping mine. The SHIELD jet came into view and landed in the clearing in front of us. I couldn’t stop the twinge of sadness at the fact that we were leaving. It was selfish, but I loved taking care of Natasha these past two days.

As the gate of the jet dropped, Natasha spoke in a sultry voice, “Thank you, Y/N, for keeping me warm.” She kissed my crimson cheek before sauntering onto the jet. I snapped out of my daze and followed her, trying and failing to keep my composure.

[whump-town]

A Cumbersome and Heavy Body

Chapter Six: Looking In Their Eyes When They’re Down

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn’t going to go down without a fight. It’s just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word Count: 4453

Author’s Note: The next chapter is the final chapter... somehow

I bet on losing dogs I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place By the ring Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down I'll be there on their side

She has no warning to prepare her for the swift sea of medical personal swarming around them. One moment she’s folding Aaron’s fingers over her own, using both hands to keep his captive between hers, and the next he’s lodged free. Her own panic spikes and she can see his tired eyes snap open with alertness, shoulders moving as he tries and fails to move his body. His deep, rasped voice calling out to her muffled by the oxygen mask they’d pulled over his face. Any movement he manages is met with a hand, his left shoulder pushed back to the stretcher, and his wrist caught swiftly and held down. He stands no chance against them.

She’s allowed to stand at the corner of the room. Left to watch as Aaron’s nose starts to bleed again, he gives a low grunt as his head begins to pound. She steps forward, moving to point it out, but she stumbles into a nurse and is met with two more guiding her right back out. One stands by her side, a hand on her bicep to keep her in place and all she can do is stand and watch them cut his clothes away. She winces at the bruises, ones he’d managed to keep hidden from her, or maybe she just can’t keep track these days there are so many. They stand out horribly-- dark greens and blacks and blues against his nearly colorless flesh. Up and down his legs and arms and chest.

He gives a soft protest as his shirt is peeled open, both of his hands shaking where they lay at his sides. Painful goosebumps breaking out over his skin. He’s lifted up, the head of the stretcher lifted so the blood pouring down his face won’t slide back down the back of his throat. His weak protest is met with a pink bucket being thrown into his lap and he takes it wordlessly. A nurse moves the mask off his face, giving it to a woman behind her to be cleaned, and Aaron falls forward, caught by the swift-handed nurse, as he throws up. All this movement too much for his stomach to take.

The whites of his eyes are all Emily can see and she shouts, being held back by that nurse, as he slumps back against the stretcher. She watches them pass things between one another, doing everything but ignoring how cold he obviously is. She doesn’t get a clear name of the drug they press into him, just watches it get passed to the woman standing over Aaron’s shoulder. It’s as if she’s watching in lapsed time seconds behind every action that takes place. Having no idea what they’re doing or what’s wrong just that Aaron has stopped moving, laying still and calm while they manipulate his limbs. She watches the needle sink in and frowns, waiting for some sort of reaction. Watching for whatever is that they’re waiting for. Hotch lets out a little kicked breath, leg twitching as he rasps something incoherently, and falls limp once again.

“What--” she never gets the chance to ask.

They start kicking the stretcher, forcing the wheels into motion as they scramble overtop one another. Placing machines on every side of Aaron and pulling the guard rail up. She’s pulled back not allowed to follow.

“If you’ll wait in here,” she’s left in a hall or something like one. There are some chairs thrown against a wall and two shitting vending machines with overpriced snacks in one and shit coffee in the other. “Someone will come out and speak with you shortly.”

What’s she to do until then?

“Da-Dave?” she hears his groggy reply. A slurred, panic not yet set in, mumbled “yea”. “He’s -- We’re in the hospital,” she says, restlessly walking the cold hall of the waiting room up and down in slow lazy circles. “Pneumonia, they think. Probably, uhm, maybe caused by the radiation. Something to do with -- with scarring.” She pushes her hair back from her face with her palm, the messy ponytail she’d managed running out the door isn’t cutting it anymore. The cold sweat dying off as her adrenaline goes with it. She wants a shower and to see Hotch.

“It’s -- It’s not a big deal,” she mumbles, speaking far too quickly for Dave to even get a chance to get something out in the way of conversation. “He’ll probably be fine. Or, well, I guess I don’t really know. They won’t tell me anything yet. They just took him, Dave. They just took him from me and left me in here in this fucking room that’s freezing.” She motions up to the unapproachable white walls extended all around her, shaking her head. “I’m sure he’s fine,” she mumbles, frustratedly. “I just wish I could--”

She wishes she could do something, give him a kidney or a quarter of her liver so that this little game can come to its falling action and find them naïve and drunk off winning. She’d return to them in a heartbeat and never go back to London. She’s not sure she’ll ever be able to leave Hotch again, can’t spare the thought of what shit he’ll get into if she’s not around. Maybe she knows too much for him to want her to (or maybe they’ve developed a sort of codependency). But she’s learned her lesson and she’s not sure what Hotch’s is but he’s probably figured it out too. Certainly, that means they have just reached the climax of this awful story, she thinks around every turn it’s here and finds herself pumping the breaks never hearing the right words.

“It’s aggressive, abnormal.”

“It’s spreading rapidly to his other organs.”

“We’ll combine the chemo and the radiation but all we can do is cross our fingers.”

Where’s the ringing of that bell that’s downstairs in the treatment facility Emily drives him to? She knows what it’s for and she’s never heard it ring. Not once. Someone should get to, after all the people she’s seen during those trips, and not a single one has done it yet. When does it end?

Because they’ve done the hair loss. She’s seen him puke so many times and wondered how he managed to still bring something up. Watched him cry in the front seat of the car in pain and lay so still, sleep so deeply she thought he was dead. They do the walks the doctor said would help but unless she’s supposed to be harnessing the sun to shoot into his veins alongside the poison they pump into him she’s not sure what else to do. How much more do they need to take? She’ll give them an arm or sell her soul but there has to be some sort of answer. A place, an option, some time, or someplace where they get to win. So Dave can make them a celebratory dinner Aaron won’t eat but it’s not about what pasta is chosen. It’s about the giant, flared office chair that Derek will roll him out on a little too fast. Smiling no matter how propped up by pillows that he has to be and with as many blankets and layers of clothes that he wants until he’s warm. So that he can rest his head against the side, curling into himself as he falls asleep to their laughter.

It’s about winning.

Fuck, she just wants to beat this.

“Emily? You with me, kid?”

She snaps back to reality. To the hall. “What? Yeah, yeah.” She walks over to the chairs along the wall, falling into one and folding into herself. Letting her head fall into her palm. “I’m here,” she mumbles.

Dave is sitting up in his bed, working his body into motion. “I know you said he’ll be fine,” and honestly, he does believe her. “I’m going to come down there, okay? You don’t need to be alone and I’ll bring real coffee, don’t drink whatever they have.” The doctors have Aaron, he’s in the best place that he can be. Emily is in the worst. “Okay? Does that work, Emily?”

She nods her head, humming, before pushing her hair back again and forcing herself upright. “Yeah,” she rasps. “Yeah, that’s okay.” She wipes her mouth, moving up her face and drying the tears sliding down as best as she can. If not scoffing at herself for crying in the first place. “I’ll see you in a second?”

Dave sighs, nodding. “Yeah,” he replies. “I’ll be there. Hang in there, kiddo.”

She has two degrees, you know. A bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice and a master’s degree from Yale.  She’s not stupid or oblivious but the ability to obtain a college education has never been a good determinant of intelligence. To compare her ability to compartmentalize her life recently would lend some light to her naivety. She might have gotten the grades to get into Yale (and more importantly the money) but here she is sitting at the hospital refusing to see what’s right in front of her.

What good has college done any of them?

He could have owned Roy’s old shop in town and raised Jack there instead of here. Where the local kids run around with no shoes or shirts and he greets each of them by name and exchanges good grades for candy bars. With a back porch that he stands on at eight-thirty calling Jack home for the third time until sweaty and breathless his son pops up with a grin and rushes right past him into the house for water. Where Haley watches him build swing sets and trampolines for birthdays and Christmas with a smile and a shake of her head because Aaron’s the farther thing from handy but he’s going to get this damn thing built.

He probably would have made it so much longer, cancer or not.

But he doesn’t want that, no matter what she convinces herself. That life she just captured wasn’t his, it wasn’t a choice he’s ever had. He’d never be okay there where his father’s ghost could latch onto him, where it would follow him into his own grave, and, if he wasn’t careful, Jack’s too. He got away because it was the only way he’d be able to live and Haley decided she didn’t want to live without him and after all this time he doesn’t want to live without her either but he has. And, if he had a choice, he’d keep doing it.

“Aaron Hotc--”

She stands, nearly zombified with her sluggish amble. The night has worn her down. After spending way too long sleeping in his office chair and managing to wake-up to every little bump and hitch into the night only for this to happen-- she’s on edge. “Yes?” she responds to the doctor. “That’s me, I’m here for Hotch. For--For Aaron.”

The doctor nods, “good, good. He’s doing well. We’re giving him steroids for the pneumonia. I’d like to give you a projected release time but I’m afraid I can’t do that until I see how he takes to the steroids. The pneumonia will need to clear up  a bit before I suggest sending him home again.” The doctor flips Hotch’s chart closed, tucking it under his arm and motioning with his head for her to follow. “I can take you back to see him if you’d like.”

She nods, pulling out her phone to send Dave a text, and lets him lead her back.

They give him back to her worse than when she left him.

His dark blood is harrowing where it’s pooled and splashed along his pale skin. They’ve managed to poke another hole in him, she’s not sure what this one is for, but she sighs and prepares for his confused pain over it. He’s attached to so many machines that it should be daunting but after sitting and watching chemo dribble into him for hours they are nothing. She knows they don’t hurt, maybe emotionally as she watches his heart rate and knows the beat is too fast to be safe. They don’t hurt him, though, and that’s all that really matters.

They’ve been lucky, as lucky as they can be considering. They really haven’t spent that much time in the hospital and even less time compared to when they’re all active duty and not on varying levels of “in” and “out” of the field. Less time than when they’re chasing serial killers around. Maybe they were taking it for granted or maybe luck is just sand in an hour-glass and it was really only a matter of time before it started pouring in the other direction.

With a sigh she slides into the chair they’ve left at his side. There’s no doubt in her mind that this is the first domino, she’s read about it plenty. The nosebleed a while back, the first one when he was still working, was what she thought would start them off and it terrified her to see it so soon. Having this time, though, has allowed her some naivety to believe the domino might never fall. That the things every blog she’d read had to say, every book, and pamphlet and article, was wrong. Not Hotch. That wouldn’t happen to him.

But this hospitalization will end it all.

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

He thinks about death less than he had before. All he has is death, it’s of little importance these days in its abundance. Experiences concern him a great deal more. Life often feels like an endless source, no matter how much you take when you return you will find it full and swelling with its richness. In reality, it’s a stopped sink and they’re scraping the bottom. Everything they have is numbered and he watches them find mindless reasons to be here. Reid with his endless facts, spending hours explaining, again and again, each element until Aaron’s tired mind can understand. Never commenting about how these are all things Aaron had, at some point, understood. Maybe a matter of days ago, maybe longer but now he watches Reid silently, with little clarity. Garcia hides things around the room so that she can sneak in long after visiting hours are over under the disguise of getting something “oh, please, it’s super important” to sit with him. He enjoys hearing her coming, smiling without even opening his eyes and knowing it’s her. Her happy giggles as she greets him with a kiss to the temple and a soft retelling of her slick little plan.

He taught JJ to dance before her wedding, which feels like forever ago now. He remembers how hesitant she’d been to place her hand in his, anxiously messing up every move, and stepping on his toes so many times he’d started to think she might take them off. He convinced her to dance in socks for the sake of his toes and so that she could master the motions. It had given them both the perfect distraction, if not selfish, to have to think about what they knew Emily was planning to do. At her wedding, she’d made him dance with her again, beaming the entire time and he’d be lying if he said he was immensely proud of how far she’d come. She didn’t step on his toes once and when they’d parted she’d kissed his cheek and thanked him.

Now she comes in here and forces him up and into motion. The doctor says he should spend more time trying to keep active, even if it’s just a stroll up and down the hall or moving from the bed to the wheelchair and going outside for a moment. JJ makes him dance. He’s clumsy now, lacking the control he’d had not that long ago. Now she’s the one reminding when to step and she takes it far easier on him than he had on her. Pushing until he can’t stand it and the two of them just lean and sway but this time she has no hesitation stepping closer to him. No second thoughts about wrapping her arms where she wants them and hiding her face against his shoulder when she cries.

He sleeps well after her visits and the weary weight of his limbs, though painful, is solidifying. He can feel his body, take some sort of ownership of it before the night calls him home and he twists and turns and is lost to it once again.

The greatest joy he can obtain is not in a direct action so much as a lack of action.

“You have pneumonia, not an identity crisis, let me cut the beard.”

After they cut what was left of his hair off he kept shaving for… autonomy reasons. A way to maintain the semblance of control over his life and his body. Mostly, though, because there’s something about the simple, repetitive nature of shaving that soothes his mind. So he’d continued to shave, the one thing that started this whole mess.

“Look at that pretty boy,” Derek jostles Reid the most about it. “Hotch can still grow a better beard than you!” And it’s funny, it really is, and sort of astonishing. The doctors brush it off, it happens, they say, which is fine. The beard, though thinned, covers his gaunt cheeks and the sickening pallor of his face. In the right light, it does draw more than unnecessary attention to his poor color but they stick to seeing it as some sort of win. Some way in which Hotch has overcome… a way to ignore the ways he doesn’t.

Plus, Emily hates it.

“Oh leave him alone,” Dave always defends him.

He only keeps it because Emily hates it. It’s the little things, you know?

Everything they do, everything he does, is just a tactic to ignore the pneumonia. Coping is, well, it’s not going well for them.

The snow does not let up and it starts to complicate their days. A foot accumulates and it just keeps going and that love Emily had for it is starting to dissipate. She gets snowed in, too much snow falling and she can’t get it cleared to leave her house. It’s really not that big of a deal that he spends a single day alone but it does scare her about what could happen if no one is there.

She calls him but he’s started this awful habit of not picking his phone up or forgetting to charge it. He doesn’t answer.

He considers this perfect timing.

He doesn’t sleep well that night at all. He can’t get comfortable and maxed out on painkillers and his oxygen at a poor level but stable, each second feels like hours. A nurse comes in every so often, coaching him through breathing deeply and evenly, but he ends up with a nebulizer or a coughing fit. He does fall asleep for a few hours a little after one in the morning. Chest aching from the coughs, a sharp cutting pain across his ribs, he’s too tired to stay away. He’s vaguely away of people moving around him, the mask coming back down over his face.

When he wakes, just a few minutes before Emily calls, he’s in a panic. Laid out on his back, sucking in weak, thin breathes around lung fulls of fluid. There’s a moment, suspended, light-headed where he feels the hands of various staff members on him. They speak to him but he’s moments behind, hearing their warning but not understanding until his brain is on fire and he’s sitting more upright than he had been before.

He tries to pull in a breath and can’t. On the right side of his chest, is a sharp pain that increases to stabbing when he tries to keep breathing. His chest tight like a vice, as if decreasing the size of which his lung can expand.

“Just keep breathing Agent Hotchner.”

He watches the doctor pull out a needle, his vision swimming out of focus as he’s reclined back.

“The needle aspiration isn’t going to work--” It certainly doesn’t feel like it’s helping. “Hand me a scalpel.”

His last thought, just as the scalpel breaks his skin and the doctor grunts as he manipulates the wound he’s just created, is that Emily is going to be fucking pissed when she comes back. He’s just not sure if that anger is going to be pointed his way or theirs.

Derek comes through and spends his day shoveling everyone’s drive-ways with this wacky machine she’s never seen before and hits her house first, freeing her. As grateful as she is, she sends him off with a rushed appreciative tap to the butt and leaves. Luckily most of the machines they brought in have been taken away. That doesn’t mean they don’t tell her what happened.

“We had to intubate--”

She can see him in the bed from here. His hospital gown just sort of thrown over his chest and loose, oversized material leaves him bare enough that she can see the tubes and wires sneaking here and there. Crossed and varying in color and size. Her eyes are drawn to the chest tube-- a thin white thing that protrudes between his ribs, the gown raised to leave it easily accessible. Though she knows it’s not life-threatening, it’s a taunt just being here. For now, it’s a wound easily fixable. It’ll take longer for his body to heal but it’ll go away eventually. It’s just the beginning.

“He’s alright now?” Calm overcomes her and instead of seething with the anger that she feels, all she knows is this strange gratitude that it wasn’t all somehow much worse. That she doesn’t have to come in and see the tube, his head extended back and body motionless. Not even his breaths his own. That he’s just beyond this door watching whatever daytime TV channel Reid left on last time he was here.

The doctor is expecting there to be more of a fight, there typically is. All he finds is a weary, tiredness. “He’s doing much better. His oxygen has improved and we hope to move on from the mask this afternoon to something less obstructive like a canal.”

She nods, “and the chest tube? When can you take that out?”

The doctor smiles, realizing his potentially hopeful news. “The fluid from his lungs is draining nicely, so with some luck and if he continues to react well to the treatment we’re considering removing the chest tube and releasing him by the end of the week.”

She knows better than to get hopeful, she nods. “Okay.” She nods her head towards the door, “can I?”

The doctor nods and she leaves him there in the hall.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

He means to nod but winces, moving his left hand over his chest to lightly touch the ribs the tube sits between. “Something like that,” he says, pulling clumsily at the mask until he manages to pull it down under his chin. “Still enjoying the snow,” he motions to her coat, a single finger and a grin pointing out the small collection she has of it still on her.

Her sigh is answer enough and she bats it away, flicking some at him for good measure. “I hate it,” she puffs, falling into the chair beside him. Being here again, having him just a foot away soothes her nerves more than she thought possible. It makes her feel kind of silly for being so anxious in the first place but then she looks over and sees the tube and the deep angry wound around it and remembers why she was scared in the first place. “What’re you watching?” she asks, standing back up. She goes to the little closet near the door, pulling down on the blankets the nurses showed her are kept there. It’s nothing to her, all of this, and him it’s all just so… normal.

Careful to spread one over him, she pulls the other around herself. Waiting a few hovering seconds for him to tuck himself underneath it and settle before she sits back down.

With a tired sigh, looking every bit as exhausted as she feels, he mumbles, “Judge Judy.”

She glances at him, smirking because he’ll never admit it but he loves Judge Judy. Loves the mindless drama. It is nice, though, and she soaks it in. She couldn’t sleep last night and couldn’t sit still in that house without him. She’d washed all the bedsheets, made the beds, washed dishes, and even mopped. All for the night to fall and for her to, once again, find herself stuck. Can’t sleep and can’t relax.

“I missed you yesterday,” he admits, watching her eyes drop shut as she falls asleep.

She hums, squishing herself deeper into the chair. She’s not ready to admit just how much she missed him-- okay, maybe she’s a little dependent on him but it’s hard not to miss someone you see every day. “I’m sure you did,” she sneaks a glance up at him, smiling. “Poor old Hotch, nobody here to eat his jello or sit around and watch Judge Judy with him.”It makes him smile and that’s worth everything. “I missed you too.”

Her phone goes off and she spares it a glance before frowning. He raises an eyebrow and she shakes her head, “Reid.” She answers it and hears exactly what she knew was coming. She nods her head along as he speaks and agrees to help him. “Okay, be there in a second. See ya.” She pockets her phone. “He’s a genius but he can’t drive in the snow. He needs me to come pick him up.” Leaning down she kisses Aaron’s forehead and rolls her eyes. It’s snowing hard still and she’s driving Hotch’s SUV so she can get through it and besides he wants to come here anyway so it’s not that big of a deal. One ride isn’t going to kill her. “Behave,” she mumbles, poking his arm and she means and he knows it. “I love you but I will kick your ass when I come back, got me?”

He glances at her and moves his eyes back to Judge Judy, “I got ya.” It doesn’t occur to him to return the sentiment. This is the third time she’s told him that she loves him and he hasn’t said it back once. Not verbally and he’s slacking in the “showing” it department. But he hasn’t got the fear that she does, he doesn’t think he’ll run out of time to say it back to her.

That makes him just as naïve as she is.

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan, @lazyhater

[cottoncandyjester]

Hey guys im sorry I haven't been posting, honestly tumblr is making it hard to. every single story I write tumblr crashes then deletes it so it's been HIGHLY frustrating...guess I need to invest in a laptop or a better phone

Sorry this was so long I always want the boys' back stories to be only 2 parts

This story contains: death, torture, abuse, toxic relationships, murder, violent themes

"you're too soft! They are sinners theodore why are you being so damn sensitive"

Theo winced at the punch his father landed which caused him to stumble back his back hitting the table which held their latest victim, a young woman that theo cleaned up and dressed in his mother's clothes, he didn't like the sight of her all bloody and mangled it made his heart sting.

Theo never helped to Kill any of these women, only cleaned them up and made sure they looked beautiful in death it was his way if asking for forgiveness.

When he was ten he idolized his father but it's been two years since he caught his father and been training under him to take his place and all that love vanished he found himself feeling nothing but hate and disgust for his father, what made matters worse was the fact that his mother had to take half the brunt of his father's anger.

"I won't do this anymore, you're wrong. Women aren't devils, mother is an angel and I wont hurt her"

Theo's harsh remark earned him yet another punch in the face this one knocking him down as he spat out blood the metallic taste making him sick to his stomach.

"you're a damn fool boy, I'll make you see her filth"

With that his father left him in the attic to starve for the night which was always a common occurrence. As he laid back on the floor the boy let out a dry chuckle.

"Just a little more...then you'll be the one burning in hell father"

Theodore felt everything go black and it wasn't long until he had passed out soon waking back up in bed with his mother caring for his wounds. He could smell her sweet perfume and hear her soft humming, something about those things made his heart flutter in the purest of ways.

"you should be careful theo, you know making him angrier will only result in pain"

"it's okay, we'll leave together one day..just me and you.."

There was silence after that and for a while things were okay, the family was quiet during dinner and once it got late theo figured his father would have went to bed forgiving him for his outburst in the morning.

Theo woke to the sound of two metal objects clashing together, the sound was enough to stir him awake though when he tried to move he realized he was tied up against a chair. That clashing noise he heard was his father sharpening a few knives, the sight made theo's blood run Cold.

"f-father?"

"god told abraham to kill his son, and abraham was about to do it like a loyal sheep. God will make you do awful things theodore and as a man we must do them"

Theo frantically struggled against the ropes binding him only feeling more and more stressed as his father stepped closer and closer thing soft steps of his shoes making theo feel like he had to puke.

What's going to happen to me?

Am I going to die?

Theo felt his father press the tip of the blade pressed softly against his forehead on the left side of his face, the cool metal only brought theo to reality more, his father was going to kill him cause god said so.

"i-i know we are nothing alike but please-"

"we are absolutely nothing alike! You are exactly like your mother a sissy little housewife! You were never going to be a good man or husband! When I asked God for a son I thought he would send me one I could be proud of!"

Rage fuelled theo, he wasnt sure why but something about what his father said made him want to scream, his father was wrong... absolutely wrong.

"I'll be a perfect husband, and a better Father than you"

As soon as he said those words theo felt the sharp pain of his father pushing the blade into his skin earning a sharp inhale of breath trying not to show too much weakness. Theo kept thinking about his mother and how in a way he was protecting her, their goal were to run away safely together.

"we might have one thing in common theodore, you have a devil in you just like me..it's time to show you just how tainted you are"

With that theo felt a harsh intense pain as his father dragged his blade along the boy's face earning screams coming from him as he thrashed and tried kicking but his father pressed his knee onto the boy's legs now carving his skin off in such a slow and unbearable way that it was driving theo crazy

"accept your sins theodore! This is your punishment for being unloyal!"

Theodore couldn't stop screaming as the knife raked down his face roughly cutting a large chunk of his skin clean off, the pain was so great he was close to fainting but his father came prepared and injected him with an adrenaline shot.

"p-please f-father please please please..."

Theodore at this point didnt know what he was begging for, maybe death? The overwhelming taste and smell of his own blood was making him sick and not to mention there was a lot of blood pouring down his face.

I'm dying.. god has forsaken me

"may you be reborn as a perfect child next time"

Theo kept his head down but felt a soft kiss on his head before hearing footsteps walk away from him before the door to the attic closed, his father left him to die!

Theo swayed side to side hoping to get free, if he could just get to his father's desk and grab a knife though without his glasses seeing things far away was near impossible though he could see the shape of the desk.

"mother needs me, I can't die.."

Theo grunted in pain as he fell forward which wasn't his plan but he'll take it, with every fiber of his being he crawled and scooted along the ground towards the desk before seeing a knife handle over the edge of the desk. Thankfully his legs were tied just his arms so with some embarrassing attempts to stand of even kneel before turning around to grab the knife with his hand.

Before he could cut himself free he heard banging on the attic door before a crash, the sound was enough to startle him into cutting the palm of his hand and dropping the knife

"argh! I-it hurts!"

Soon the attic door opened and rushing towards him was his loving mother, her frantic questions and worrying about him made him feel far better especially when she untied him from the chair.

"I'm leaving tonight theo, my fiancee is waiting for me outside"

"t-then let's go mother! Now is the perfect time to go!"

There was a tense silence after that as theo felt his mother bandage his wound up, his mother was hiding something and he didn't like it.

"w-we have a little girl and he's very protective of her and well with how your face looks now you'll scare her and I don't want to bring any baggage from my pa-"

Theodore felt as if his head was spinning, what was she saying? He did everything for her he almost died for this woman and she saw him as baggage to toss away before going to her new family.

"y-you're going to leave me here? J-just like that?! I protected you from him! I made sure he never hurt you! Were you ever going to bring me with you?!"

"keep your voice down theo, please calm down you're scaring me-"

"I'm scaring you?! I'm the one scaring you?! How could you?! I'm your child! I love you!"

He watched his mother look down shamefully and slowly back away clearly afraid of what will her next words do to him. Theodore was feeling a little unstable at the moment, his own mother just betrayed him can he truly trust no one in his life?

"your eyes just...look just like him. I can't theo I'm so sorry I can't it's too painful for me.. you're too much like him"

That was the thing that broke theo all together, it was like his brain just snapped and no clear thought came just pure anger and pain. How could she think that?! Theo thought he was nothing like his father absolutely nothing!

"no! I'm nothing like him! Nothing! He's abusive and a horrible man how could you say that!? I thought you loved me but you're just like him-yeah you're like him not me! I'm pure! A good person"

Theo couldn't stop himself, before he knew it he had grabbed the knife he dropped earlier, the large blade held tightly in his hand and scaring the one person he thought he can trust.

"w-why do you want to leave me? You're just embarrassed of me..you don't want me around cause you hate me"

"no no no baby I love you I just-"

Theo swung the knife slashing his mother's arm, hearing her cry out in pain made him only smile as he gazed at her fearful expression. His sense of reason was vanished and all he wanted now was to show everyone how much they hurt him

"maybe if you were a better mother I wouldn't have gotten hurt all the time, maybe if you weren't too busy being a good wife instead of a good mother I wouldn't be in such pain!"

"t-theo please I just-"

"why couldn't I just have a normal family?! I prayed for one! So why!?"

Theo slashed at his mother again and again over and over sloppily slashing at her without caring about where he aimed. He was far more focused on releasing all this pain and betrayal he felt

"why doesn't anyone want me?! Why don't you want me! I want you so what's wrong with me?! Why am I so broken?!"

Theo ignored the sobs and begging for her to stop, they were not processing clear enough to him he just wanted to hurt them to hurt them in ways they hurt him. Her thrashing soon stopped but it wasnt enough for theo, he moved ontop of her now raising the blade and slamming it down inside her chest his eyes glossed over as he did so.

"I'm not like him, I'm nothing like him! I'll be a good father! A good husband! I'll never abandon my family! Never! Never ! Never!"

The knife slipped I his hand and when he tried to catch it he grazed his hand before hearing the knife clatter onto the ground, theo panted heavily before looking at his hands seeing hands were lightly bruised from gripping the knife so hard, he then looked down at his mother and her horror stuck face.

"look at what father did, I told you we should have left before...it's okay I'll protect you"

Theo reached out taking the scarf his mother wore before putting it on himself before pressing it to his nose and taking a deep inhale, the sweet scent gave him shivers.

The sight of his dead mother made the boy tear up but he honestly didn't realize he was the one who had did such a thing, it was something he refused to accept. Now gripping the knife he once had before he creeped down the attic stairs each step more and more anxiety fuelling, from the quiet sounds it seemed like his father was asleep.

Theo had never acted out so violently than when he saw his father sleeping soundly in bed, once again much like before he had completely snapped now walking over and plunging the knife deep into his father's side earning a painted grunt along with his father's eyes to snap open

This caused theo to panic and he did the first thing he could think of which was to bite his victim's ear using that time to shove the blade into his father's chest before biting his ear off and spitting it onto the ground in a feral snarling mess.

"t-there's your demon... y-you're just like me"

"I'm nothing like you! Nothing!"

Theo gripped the knife blade shoving it deeper til it became stuck and his father stopped breathing, what struck theo as odd was the lack of struggling..didn't his father want to live? That escaped his mind as he tried wiggling the blade out of the corpse only to whine lightly at how stuck it was

"heavy, too heavy"

Theodore decided his next plan was to change out of his bloody clothes except for his scarf of course and to turn on the gas stove as high it can possibly go, he used his bedroom window to escape since his mother's boytoy was still waiting for her outside.

One match, it took one match to burn the place down starting the fire in his bedroom and letting it spread. A few minutes after theo jumped out the window the house roared to live now completely on fire.

Theodore only 12 years old had killed his parents and burned the place down, he had no one else to turn to no family or anything so he turned to his local church. They sent him to a boarding school where he grew up and found a passion for medicine as well as helping others.

His dark past always haunted him, he was known as the boy whose family died horrible deaths. There were always rumors about what happened that night some say that his father killed everyone before burning the place and stabbing himself others think that his mother's lover killed them all in an angry rage. Theo would always just shrug and laugh it off thanking God that he's alive

Those dark desires of having a family only grew as he grew older, it became a twisted obsession that festered stronger and stronger by the time he was 18 he was already waiting for marriage..after all a good husband waits for the perfect bride.

"theo? Hey theo? Hello earth to theo?"

Theodore snapped awake only to see his sweet darling staring at him worriedly, he must have fallen asleep in his office again. Theo simply smiled as he stood from his chair

"what's wrong?"

"well, dinner's ready have a good dream or something?"

Theo chuckled softly before running his fingers through his hair trying to come up with a suitable answer

"just dreaming about the past my angel, though I should focus on the future with you after all the past is the past..."

[crystalas]

It’s only a matter of time part 2

part 2 of a Monkie Kid fanfic wherein MK and Red Son are being trained by Macaque against their will. Trapped in a mountain dojo with the skillet and Bands of Guanyin keeping them prisoner the two have to work together for any hopes of escape.

warning this contains the fan theory that demons in LMK universe eat humans, painful punishments and well angst

Chapter two: Meal times.

MK was embarrassed to find that he had fallen asleep as he nudged awake by Red Son who was staring at the cell door, Macaque’s shadow clone was standing there with two covered bowls, two jugs of water and wooden cups on a tray in his hands. He knelt down and pushed them towards the two boys who looked at it with suspicion and disgust.

“One of the things I was commissioned to do was to break a certain demon boy out of some bad habits, so I have decided that while you train under me you will be on an au natural diet.” The clone declared. MK picked up the lid and to his surprise his bowl was full of several bits of fruit, handfuls of different nuts and seeds and to his revulsion three giant crickets.

“For Monkey boy a monkey diet, don’t worry I’m not stupid enough to give you anything you can’t eat” Macaque laughed as MK stuck his tongue out at the idea of eating bugs. Red Son looked extremely hesitate to lift the lid on his bowl but the clone did it for him.

At first glance MK thought that Red Son had just been given a raw shank of meat presumably pork, but then he noticed that the joint of meat ended with a hand…

“For demon boy, a demon diet of raw human…”

MK froze and stared at Red Son who looked like he was going to puke.

“I can’t eat this!” Red Son declared pushed the bowl away.

“Aw don’t worry its fresh”

“I don’t care I can’t eat this!”

“Tough!”

MK took a fruit from his bowl and was about to hand it to Red Son but gave a loud yelp as his skillet gave him a warning throb.

“No sharing, that’s the only warning you two are getting!” Macaque’s clone scowled, “and don’t think I won’t noticed if you try. I’m not called the six-ear macaque for nothing” Red Son turned his back on his bowl with a growl of indignation and stayed there. MK felt his stomach betray him as he took the fruit, he was going to give Red Son and began to slowly chew on it. he didn’t realise until he shallowed the first mouthful how hungry he was and quickly began to eat everything else. [except the crickets…no…not hungry enough for bugs and he really hoped he never would have to be.]

“Enjoy boys and try to get a good night sleep, tomorrow the real training begins” and with that the clone vanished into the floor.

MK looked at Red Son who kept his back to him during the entire time MK had eaten his meal not a single word was spoken between them.

“Red Son…” MK began but was quickly cut off.

“Yes, demons eat people, but I don’t, okay?” Red Son snapped his hair rippling with fire, “I don’t care if that might make me the laughing stock of the demon community I. Don’t. Eat. Meat!”

“It’s ok I’m kind of glad you don’t” MK said quietly, “I’m guessing vegetarian demons are unusual?”

Red Son gave a heavy sigh and MK could see him gripping the sleeves on his robe tightly.

“More heavily frowned upon… a lot of the old school demons don’t get that for us inner city demons we can’t just go picking up the nearest human to snack on without alerting police. So, it’s easier to just not to.”

“Wait…how did Macaque know about this? How did he know about your quote unquote ‘bad habits’?”

“I don’t know, just add that to growing list of ‘things we have no idea on’…” Red sighed he scooted himself so he was leaning against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. Another hour of awkward silence filled the air as they both tried their hardest not to look at the human limb sitting in the cell with them. MK decided that maybe the best thing to do was sleep, but despite curling up and trying he just couldn’t.

“It’s just a limb nothing to be scared of…” Red Son said suddenly after ten minutes of him trying to sleep.

“I’m not scared!” MK retorted. Well not scared of the limb, I’m scared of everything else going on but not that.

“Then why are you shaking?”

“I’m cold!” MK groaned “It might surprise you that cold stone floors do not make for good sleeping arrangements!”

Red Son looked at him before giving a weary sigh and scooted closer to him, MK looked at him as he put his hands out and a fire blossomed into existence. MK closed his eyes and the warmth seeped into him.

“If we are to get out of here, we need to work together” Red Son whispered “Which means I can’t have you dying from the cold.”

MK was already drifting off to sleep.

“You know…for a bad guy…you’re pretty nice…” he mumbled as he fell asleep.

Red Son looked at him before glancing at the limb then back to MK. Don’t focus on the hunger, focus on the flame he told himself just focus on anything but that…meat.

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

“Please. Wake up!” MK woke up instantly at the voice of Macaque who was standing there holding in a snigger, MK looked to Red Son who had fallen asleep and was resting his head on MK’s shoulder. MK pushed him awake and when he realised what he was doing sprung away as he had received an electric shock.

Another bowl of fruit, nuts and bugs.

Another bowl of human meat, this time it looked to be a mix of organs. MK didn’t want to try and identify what kind but he was pretty sure he saw a heart; he didn’t dare look at it too long in case it moved! Red Son turned away again clutching his stomach.

“Eat up, you have thirty minutes to be ready and then we are starting” Macaque declared coldly before walking away. MK couldn’t help but watch Red Son as he ate wishing he could do something that didn’t result in both of them rolling around the floor screaming for mercy.

They were led by a shadow clone under the same command of “Please. Follow” Back to the training dojo floor that they had wandered through yesterday, instead of the dark gloom the room was lit up but what looked like glowing glass orbs. Macaque stood there waiting for them.

“So, let’s refresh ourselves, shall we?” he said happily despite the death glares he was receiving from the two ‘students. “You do what I say when I say and you don’t have to worry about struggling to breath or having your skull crushed, are we clear on that?”

Both boys continued to glare at him.

“I said are we clear?”

They managed another beat of determined silence before Macaque got a very quiet “Yes…”

“Good from now on you shall refer to me as Master, got that?”

Another very quiet and strained “Yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Yes…Master” MK had to swallow back the bile in his throat as he did.

“Good boys, let’s start with the basics, shall we?”

And so began the training programme which started out with running laps, then lead on to push up, pull ups and squats. MK tried to figure out how many Macaques actually wanted out of them but it seemed that he just wanted to see how many they could do before they collapsed before starting the next one.

“I need you two at your very best for what’s to come” Macaque told them after the morning was over and MK and Red Son sat there trying to not drown in their own sweat and try to move their aching bodies.

“Which is?” MK asked wearily.

Macaque just smiled at him, and throw the two bottles of water which they chugged greedily.

After an hour break, they started doing combat excerise, to MK’s annoyance it was the same stuff Macaque had tried teaching him the first time he was his “Student”. Red Son was taught more hand to hand stuff rather than the staff maneuverers which made sense seeing as anything Red Son held would not doubt combust if he used it. After what felt like endless hours they were told to go back to their cell, they both just collapsed against each other too exhausted to move or talk. They only did so when supper arrived.

Another bowl of fruit, nuts and bugs.

Another bowl of human meat.

Red Son just curled up and tried to sleep off the gnawing hunger that had now settled in his stomach, he could smell the meat now even from across the room. He gave a flinch when MK sat down next to him gave a tired smile to try and encourage him, Red Son tried his best to smile back before igniting the flame to keep him warm.

Eight more days past each one where they worked and train till, they would nearly puke from over exertion and barely walk anymore and then they would just collapse in their cell afterwards. Eight more days of Red Son not eating anything and MK could see that it was beginning to take a toll on him as the fire he was making to keep him warm kept getting smaller and smaller till he couldn’t maintain it longer than a few minutes. His hair was turning a horrible shade of dark grey that reminded MK of dying embers and Macaque noticed he was struggling to keep up, but didn’t care.

It was on the ninth day of their ‘training’ when during morning laps Red Son crumpled to the floor. MK ran over to him to help him up when he gave a startled gasp. Horns seemed to be growing out of his skull, a tail now whipped around slowly and where there had been toes where now cloven hooves like a bull… Red Son tried to get up as his body changed.

“Red Son…what’s happening to you?”

“His glamour is wearing off which means he is basically at the end of whatever strength he has…” Macaque declared walking over to him and pushing Red Son onto his back with his tail. “The fact you can barely keep that spell going means you are on the brink of death, is the great Red Son going to die from starvation of all things? How pathetic” he growled.

“F…fuck you” he managed to wheeze, Macaque was not impressed and activated the bands. Red Son could only whimper as the pain rampaged through him. MK knelt down next to him and tried to support him to sit up.

“You’re going to kill him!” MK cried “Let him eat something!”

“I am!” Macaque snapped back “Not my fault he’s too stubborn to eat what’s natural to his kind!”

“Take him back to the cell, if he’s still alive tomorrow we’ll continue our training then” Macaque growled and walked off. MK just glared at him as he left the dojo before fighting tears and dragging Red Son back. He laid Red Son down on the floor, before looking at the bowl of human meat before kicking it away angrily. He grabbed his bowl of food and got out one of the fruits he had left that morning, seeing Red Son practically starve to death had killed his own appetite.

“Come on you can have this!” MK said gently, Red Son sat up and reached out to take it, only for MK to convulse and fall to the floor clutching his head. Red Son didn’t even have the energy to reach out to him but could only listen to MK’s screams of pain. He put the fruit back down and MK fell still whimpering as he held his head. Red Son rolled over and looked at the meat, he could feel drool dripping from his mouth and he gave a shuddering sigh as he took the bowl…

MK tried his best not hear the sounds of teeth tearing into flesh, or the wet crunch as bones were consumed. And he tried really hard not to listen to Red Son gag and dry heave after he put down the empty bowl.

[statticscribbles]

Glow Pt 2

Summary: Malachai/Reader Request: Glow Pt 2; this got a little out of hand

“So; should we get dinner?” You turn to Malachai your hand tracing his chest and the faint glow from it. “Hmm, well we should; but..” You smile and he looks over to you fondly. “But what?” “As my soulmate you’re meant to be my perfect fit; we’re meant to be together but we’re.” Your fingers trace the skull tattoo on his side. “ I don’t care.” “I can’t leave the Serpent’s I’m sorry.” “I don’t care. You want to be a Serpent that’s fine.” “I can’t spy on them for you; I-“ “Did I ask that? We both have jobs; that’s all this is. Maybe your boss wants me dead sure, but your job doesn’t effect my view of you.” “But-“ “Does my job effect your view of me?” He asks frowning and you shake your head.

“It does; doesn’t it.” His face sinks and you chew your lip. “It’s dangerous; I don’t want you getting hurt and-“ You scowl as he laughs. “Baby; oh my god, we’re both in gangs; I could say the same about you!” “No! You’re a gang leader! That’s way more; oh my god I’m dating a gang leader.” Malachai grins, tears in his eyes as he tries to quiet his laugher you smack his shoulder, his chest glowing brighter. “Stop that! This is serious!!” “Come on Y/N it’s not; you’re just being silly.”

“Say the one who takes his gang on thrifting road trips every other week.” “Team bonding is essential to our gang!” “Going on cross country road trips to pick up leather jackets and studs from crafts stores is not essential.” He gasps mockingly and you shake your head. “Well what do the Serpent’s do for bonding then; hmm?” “We drink, party; go for ice cream; the usual gang activities.” “Ghouls do that too!” You shake your head. “Not like Serpents.” “Do not make me have a party and invite the snakes; we’d probably all get murdered.” “Ah but to die by your side, such a heavenly way to die.” You smirk and he shakes his head, hand pulling yours against his chest which pulses a light green. “Why does it do that? I always though the glow was supposed to go away once you found your soulmate.”

“It does; to everyone else; once you’ve met your  soulmate;” He nods to you, fingers twining yours as his other hand runs up your arm. “Once you’ve connected.” It threads through your hair nudging your lips against his. “No one else has need to see our connection but us.” “But why is is so pale?” “Because you’re close, the farther I go;” he steps backwards and you notice the almost sea foam green darkens a shade. “The brighter it becomes.” “Like a lighthouse.” You smile and Malachai frowns. “A lighthouse?”

“Yeah; its calling me home.” Malchai turns fixing the items on the shelf above the chair. “Or warns you away from the rocks.” “Like you’d willingly hurt me. You’re avoiding looking at me cause you’re blushing again.” You laugh when he stalks forward trying to look threatening. “I can hurt you worse than you’d imagine.” “You wouldn’t.” “I would.” “Prove it; I’m sure you have a knife on you right? Just like me?” You grin flicking your blade out and he grins back rolling his eyes. “Y/N, sweetheart that’s a toy.” He grins pull his out, it’s not double the size of yours but it’s close. “I’d say you’re compensating for something but we both know that wouldn’t be true.” He smile smugly, nodding proudly.

“You need to meet the Ghouls; officially.” “As what the Ghoulie Queen?” “Pffft. The what? Oh my god is that actually true?? The snakes actually- oh my god, fuck that is hilarious.” “Hey, no you can’t let anyone know trade secrets.” “You know our trade secrets.” Malachai nods gravely and you roll your eyes “Thrifting is not a trade secret!!!!” “Well not when you shout it out for everyone and their mother to hear like that.” “I’m sure the Serpents aren’t going to get wise to your secret thrifting locations and then buy all the skulls and dead things before you can.” Malachai narrows his eyes but nods towards the door. “Everyone’s waiting.” “For the record the this is a horrible idea.” Malachai nods. “If you agree then why are we doing it.” “Have to do it at some point otherwise we’ll be trapped in the house of the dead’s bedroom for eternity.” “That doesn’t sound too bad.” Malachai rolls his eyes as he opens the door stepping through it. You watch half the ghoulies turning towards you eyeing you curiously. You see the group from Pop’s and watch as they step forward. “What happened now?” Malachai looks annoyed at them. “Nothing; just wanted to say we’re happy Y/N’s here.” “Really? That’s all? Nothing about the BBQ you’re apparently throwing in my yard?” “It’s a welcome party.” One of them grins and winks at you, you grin back turning to Malachai.

“Yeah we talked about it before you picked me up at Pop’s; don’t you remember?” Malachai scans your face confusedly. “You talked to them before?” “Yeah they came in and ordered food, gave me a burner phone and said they were sick of you whining.” “I did not whine!” He glares and the Ghoulies hide their laugher. “You did; just a little, he may have cried when we showed him that picture you have up; the one with hot dog the third as a puppy.” “That’s just low; no one can resist a puppy.” You nod wrapping your arm around Malachai. “Now, apparently I’m supposed to meet everyone here? So lead on oh fearless Ghoul King.” You grin and watch his chest brighten.

“I thought it only got brighter when we were apart.” “Yeah, must be a malfunction.” He shrugs avoiding your gaze to call over a group of teenagers. “These are the newbies; newbies, my soulmate Y/N.” They all nod and you return it. “A malfunction?” You question and he shrugs pulling over Evan and Jacob his second in commands to greet you. They pull you into hugs before you can say anything. “He telling lies about the soulmate glow again?” Evan grins and you nod. “Yes! He won’t tell me why it gets brighter, even though we’re next to each other! He’s awful!” You watch your chest brighten as you say it.

“It is true. That it get’s brighter the farther away you get; but it also gets brighter when you think about each other; like loving thoughts; it gets dimmer the more negative you think.” “Wait so every time he thinks about me it’ll get brighter?” “Basically yes; so depending how in love he is with you; how aware of it he is; the brighter it gets. So what colour is it now?” “Ironically the same as my Serpent tattoo.” “Oh woooow that’s, uh, interesting.” “What?” “I bet you you could ask almost anything of him and he’d do it.” “No he wouldn’t; he’s a gang leader he’s not going to go soft just cause he has a soulmate.” “Wanna bet.” Evan grins and you nod.

“Bet you a weeks worth of Pop’s.” “And two hundred.” “Deal.” You grin as Evan shakes your hand Jacob laughs and Malachai turns from where he’s talking to him and another group of Ghoulies. “Babe;” You watch as he fully turns walking towards you. “What’s up?” “Evan said you wouldn’t take me on your next thrifting trip.” You smirk and Malachai frowns. “You can come if you want; it’s usually an all day thing I assumed the snakes wouldn’t-“ “I saw this adorable ice cream parlour on the way out of town when I went on a job and if it’s on the way could we stop in?” You grin and Malachai rolls his eyes. “If this is a ploy to get ice cream-“ “Noooo.” You avert your eyes grinning. “What do you want. Come on; tell me.” You smirk. “I want you to marry me.” Malachai freezes and you’re completely distracted from Evan crumbling to the ground in shock; by the same blinding glow that blocked Malachai from your vision when you first met him.

“That’s not ice cream.” He nods to you and you grin back. “I said it wasn’t a ploy to get ice cream. You just didn’t believe me.” “Well I can’t marry you; I mean one, I don’t even know your ring size so I can’t get it altered for you; two if you think the ghouls and the serpent’s are going to be able to come together for a wedding we’re going to need to stockpile enough vodka to drown Russia; and three- what. “You have a ring? That you have to get altered?” You stare and him and Malachai nods. “Of course; what kind of idiot doesn’t have an engagement ring ready once they meet their soulmate.” “You bought a ring yesterday?”

“Anyway, since you’ve met Jacob now we just have to meet a few more members and-“Malachai nods towards a group that look to be in physical pain. “What’s wrong with them.” You watch worriedly and one of them sucks in a breath “Evan passed out.” He speaks before returning to what you realize is trying to quiet laughter. Malachai turns nudging Evan with his foot. “He’s not passed out just dying of laughter, one of you turn him on his side so he doesn’t choke if he pukes.” “So is there a rule against laughing? I mean all of them seem pretty-“ “They can laugh; they just sound like a pack of dying hyena’s and half of them have those laughs that make you laugh more from the sound. Lance I swear to god if those are helium balloons.” Lance nudges the balloons back onto the table and turns away from them.

“So why is everyone laughing at my attempted proposal?” “Attempted?” Malachai looks hurt when he closes the door to the house. The muffled laughter is almost deafening. “Well yeah; I mean I don’t have a ring and as much as I want to marry you I can’t do that without a ring. Besides I don’t think my family would be too excited if introduced you as my soulmate and fiance in the same breath as them meeting you for the first time. Like surprise I’m marrying a gang leader; I know you wanted so much better for me but he’s all I want. They’d be a little bitter about it. Mals; you okay? You know I want to marry you right?”

“You met me two days ago pretty much; we’ve been enemies for years..” “It’s been almost a week; and yeah we were enemies because I didn’t know much about you; but that doesn’t matter because you’re my soulmate; we’re meant to be together; and I want that. To be with you.” “Okay well uh first things, I lied about the ring.”

“Oh thank fuck I was going to be a little freaked out if you already had a ring.” “I have three, I wasn’t sure if you were going to like this one and the other two I saw in the shop when I went up so I figured options was good. Well actually that one is my great grandmothers on my mom’s side so it’s pretty traditional so, options, good idea right?” He grins confused slightly when he just sees a green glow.

Support My Writing?

[thelazycat220]

The Fight Female Reader x Cooper x Prince Darnell

Everyday in your life was always the same thing: waking up every morning to eat breakfast, go over your daily schedule in life, and wind down to go to sleep. It was the same things over and over. Trolls in your life were always so happy about their everyday lives that you wondered if they ever grew tired of the same thing.

So today, you decided to do something different. Ripping up your glitter-covered paper, you that huffed to yourself saying that it was time for change, you were the boss of your own life, and a flimsy piece of paper can't control it. You got to your room and got out your berry-picking basket and your hat, rushing out the door without even caring if your door was closed or not.

The sun was pretty bright, almost being a bit of a blind sight to look at. Walking into the forest were shade was constant year-round was a lovely choice. Wild strawberries were at its reddest and biggest. Your mother once told you that a juicy strawberry was a good strawberry. And you believed that once you picked a strawberry. Licking your lips with hunger, you reached out for a strawberry when you saw a glimpse of something. Turning to the left side of your body, you saw one of the strawberry bush leaves being a stain of red.

Kneeling, you examined it a bit more, realizing that it wasn't strawberry juice, since it was pink. No, this red stain was a maroon, and it smelled metallic. You swiped the leave with your finger and before you knew it, it was blood.

A shiver was sent down your spine. Was there a chance that a troll was wondering in the woods and he or she got hurt? What if they were attacked by a creature? Or a Bergen? Dropping your basket, you looked around to see if their was anymore blood in sight, walking to North. Indeed there was, in blood-red footprints, smears on trees' trunks, not to mention a few skinny branches dripping some. Queasiness started to settle in your body, growing more and more fearsome. Everywhere you looked was like the inside of a murder house, or horror movie for that matter.

You walked some more, before the sole of your foot rested on something soft and fuzzy, like one of your knitting projects. Looking down, you saw a green scarf, dirtied by small amounts of blood, swipes of dirt and leaves clinging to your fabric. Taking your foot away from the scarf, you picked it up and realized that it was a Christmas present you made for Cooper. Oh, God, Cooper! What if he was the one injured?

Panicking with fright, your troll ears perked up to listen to something. It sounded like echoing shouts and screams of frustration. But you didn't know where they were coming from. You stayed quiet and listened, the sounds were coming from the West side, just beyond the thorn bushes that bloomed poisonous Nightshade berries. You knew that once a troll ate a Nightshade berry, they would die in brutal ways that would even traumatize a baby. The first incident you heard from Nightshade berry-related deaths were just straight-up horrific: a Pop troll ate one and puke blood; two Rock trolls ate a handful and died from overdose of it; a family of Country trolls were found dead with their parts hacked off and hanging from trees, the dad survived only cause the he was the one who ate the Nightshade berries, giving him hallucinations that resulted into murdering his family.

And the last incident was a small little Classical girl that ate a couple by accident, her belly swollen painfully before the skin bursted and her organs fell out.

You shuddered, whatever was behind those bushes were the only way of saving Cooper. Slowly, you crept up to the bushes the sounds more clear to what sounded like Cooper and...someone else? Being careful with your fingers, you pulled apart the thorny bushes, gasping from what you saw that shocked you from the core.

You watched in horror as you saw the royal Funk troll brother--Cooper and Darnell. You figured out everything--the blood, Cooper's scarf, even the screams. They all belonged to the brothers. They were standing in a circle of dirt, already splattered with large amounts of red blood that seemed enough for a troll to bleed out. Cooper and Darnell were circling each other, growling at one another with eyes of anger and bloodlust.

They both looked horrible. Cooper had a gash on his forehead that drenched his face with his own blood; his front left leg had a deep bleeding wound that had a large stick stuck out, which had him limping a bit; he had inch-deep lashes on his back, his once pink fur now dyed with red; his hind legs wrapped in the Nightshade berries' bush thorns, covered in scrapes and scratches along with a couple thorns digging into the skin; his long neck covered in bruises.

Darnell had sustained more damaged than his twin: he had a blackeye with a bloodshot eye, no trace of white was replaced by red; all four of his legs appeared to be stabbed terribly, gushes of blood pouring out; his ear had no piercing, it had been torn off; twigs and leaves clung to his fur, a vine of Nightshade thorns pierced his skin that was wrapped around his body; and his neck was covered in bites, bleeding out, Cooper must've done that, which were proven by Cooper's teeth being stained with a dark pink. And his feet were covered in lacerations.

Both of them succumb heavy breathing, then, charged at each other with screaming out their lungs. Attacking each other with all their power. You watched in horror as they continued to fight each other to death. You knew that you had to stop from killing each other, but were afraid about what might happen if you stood yourself between the two.

Cooper then punched Darnell in the face, striking him down to the earthly soil, his knuckle dyed with Darnell's blood. Alas, due to the damage Darnell had, he was weak and fell back down on the dirt. Cooper smiled as he walked up to his brother, kneeling with something in his hand. Darnell's head was a bit up, until you heard something sizzle that was mixed with Darnell's scream of pain. Cooper had a thick birch branch that had its end glowing red hot, burning Darnell's cheek when the tip touched his face.

Spitting out blood, Darnell growled out to Cooper, "You bitch...(Y/N) is mine and will always will be..." A tingling sensation flowed through your body, hearing your name through the weak Funk prince almost made you fell in love.

Cooper scoffed, looking amused. "Oh no, twin bro, she's MINE. You're just going to be wolf meat, and when the wolves can't finish you off, the maggots will come and eat away what's left. And then, all that's left of you will be rotten bones covered in mold; no one's going to miss you."

You gasped, immediately coming out of the bushes and started to shout: "STOP IT! Both of you--just stop!" Both twins looked up to see you terrified. Cooper dropped the fired-up branch and smiled nervously at you.

"Heeeey, (Y/N)! S-Sorry you had to see this, we were just, uh, playing a game!" Cooper smiled, but you frowned.

"Playing a game that involves both of you to fight to the death? That doesn't even sound fun!" You then gasped once more, kneeling down the weak Darnell, who groaned in pain. "And look what you two are doing to each other! Do King Quincy and Queen Essence know about this?! Imagine what would happen if they found that their own sons tried to kill each other?"

Both of them had a moment of reality, the two looking guilty that they tried to commit an act of murder to each other. Darnell tried to sit up, but the pain overflowed his body and he fell down once more. New trickles of blood began to stain your hands and the cuffs of your sweater. "Oh no, Darnell! You're bleeding! We have to get you help before it gets worse." You wrapped one of his arms around your neck, grunting to realize that he was heavy. "Cooper, help me."

Taking his other arm to help you out, both of you began to exit out of the forest, then Cooper said apologetically: "I'm...sorry about the fight. We were just...well..."

You sighed, then smiling at the Funk twin. "It's alright Coop. You don't have to fight over me. I love you both." You grunted once more. "C'mon, let's get your brother to my pod, I have some medicine stuff for him."

(Written by LGBTQLover on FanFiction.Net)

[oureuphoria]

Worst of You - JJK 08

You meet him under horrible circumstances but everything feels perfect when you’re with him. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. He, however, is a police officer with years worth of built-up turmoil and an inability to make attachments. Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X  collegestudent!reader

Word count: 2,304

Note: Things get sad in this chapter and :( 

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 

Jungkook was confused. He was confused about how you had gotten in, who you were with and more importantly, why you were here when this seemed to be the last place you’d want to be. In spite of his confusion Jungkook knew that to his knowledge you were still 20 and definitely underage, so it was his legal obligation to check up on you. It was definitely not because he wanted to talk to you, just following procedure.

“What are you doing here?” You hadn’t noticed Jungkook sit next to you until he spoke but you refused to spare him a glance. You were worried that was all it would take, one look at his wide brown eyes that seemingly held the universe and you’d be putty in his hands. “None of your business.“ “When you’re underage it is.” “It’s my birthday, officer.” You threw your ID card to him which he checked meticulously. You snatched the card out of his hands after he’d had a good look and hopped off the stool. 

“If you don’t mind, I have to go back to Jimin.” Just as you are about to walk away from him, Jungkook lightly grabs your hand. “Wait.” You turned back around to face him but expertly avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t much but it was all Jungkook could fathom and yet both of you knew, it wasn’t enough. You gave him a small smile before you replied, one that seemed more sad than polite. “Yeah, me too.” And with that, you walked away, shoving Jungkook and his ridiculously beautiful face to the back of your mind.

“Jimin!” You had finally found your friend who hadn’t been even half as happy to see you as you were him. “Y/N, I know it’s your birthday and I promised I’d be with you but the most gorgeous boy is here and I really need a hook-up. If you’re not okay with it I understand but-” “Go! At least one of us has to get lucky tonight.” You waved him off and he retaliated with a bone-crushing hug. “I love you so much. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Whether that promise was empty or not, you were going to hold him to it because letting him abandon you in this club all alone is definitely a sizeable sacrifice. 

You walked back to the bar where you were relieved to see that Jungkook had left. Against your better judgement, your eyes subconsciously scanned around for him and when you saw him, dancing and having the time of his life while you were there following in self-pity, you realised you definitely needed another drink. 

Perhaps it was your lack of experience or your Jungkook-induced sadness or even your empty stomach but you were drunk. Only 2 drinks in and you had completely lost all sense of rationality. Unfortunately, the bartender was unaware of just how much of a lightweight you were and proceeded to provide you with the tequila shots you weren’t sure why you asked for. 

They tasted horrible and after downing two, you realised you never wanted to drink one again but for the first time in a long time, you had felt entirely carefree. It was nice, for the blissful moment it lasted but when your eyes had landed on Jungkook again, this time sitting at a bar next to some girl who was definitely prettier than you, carefree had turned into careless and you were making your way over there before you could process it. 

“Hi, I’m sorry but I really need to speak to him.” Giving the poor girl no time to reply, you had dragged Jungkook towards the end of the bar where there were far less people and the music was softer. “You, sir, are an asshole.” In between your words, you had made the honourable decision to jab Jungkook in the chest continuously. Drunk you believed you were emphasising your point, sober you would’ve cowered at the mere mention of such an action. 

“Are you drunk, Y/N? Where’s your friend?” “He left me for someone prettier, everyone keeps doing that to me these days…” You pouted as you strayed completely off topic and tears began welling in your eyes. You were an emotional drunk, you found that out the hard way. “I’m taking you home.” “No! I still haven’t finished.” Jungkook sighed in frustration and motioned for you to continue, the girl at the bar was long forgotten and Jungkook didn’t even care. 

“Why are you such a liar?” The waterworks had begun and while it was obvious you weren’t entirely competent, Jungkook felt the sting in his heart all the same. “Please, baby don’t cry.” “Don’t call me that. Stop making me think you care when you clearly don’t and next time grow the balls to say you don’t like me you jerk!” Your words were slurred and your delivery was a little off but Jungkook heard you loud and clear. He wanted to explain, he wanted to wipe your tears away and reassure you that he was enamoured by you, he adored you and wanted nothing more than to be by your side. But you were probably too drunk to remember and it was too late to try. 

“I’m sorry, just stop crying, please.” You tried and you weren’t sure why. The pain in Jungkook’s voice had hurt you and even while drunk, you’d do anything to make that pain go away. So you stifled your tears to the best of your ability, the only thing left behind were tear stains and your quiet hiccups. “Good job, now let me take you home.”

Jungkook didn’t expect you to fall asleep in his car, but then again he also didn’t expect you to berate him at a club. “Y/N, baby, wake up.” You were a light sleeper, he knew that much, which was why he was shaking you softly. You fidgeted in his seat a little before opening your eyes ever so slightly. “I’m sleeping, go away.” Drunk, sleepy Y/N was a challenge Jungkook didn’t know how to face. He also didn’t know how he was going to get you inside or whether or not you had your keys and going through your bag felt like a violation of your privacy so Jungkook decided to take you to his apartment instead.

When you woke up the next morning, something felt off. Your bed was never silk and you never remembered it being this big. You flailed your hand around for your plushie and when you had opened your eyes, you jolted upright in shock. That action was instantly regretful because of the pounding headache you had suddenly gotten and your wincing had captured Jungkook’s attention. 

He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a tight grey t-shirt that left scarcely anything to the imagination. If you weren’t dying from a migraine you might’ve appreciated the view but all you could think about was this numbing pain. “There’s aspirin on the table and a glass of water.” You nodded, reaching for your knight in shining armour as you consumed the medication. 

“Do you remember anything?” You remembered everything but you wanted to spare yourself the shame so you kept silent. “I tried to take you to your apartment but you fell asleep so I-” “I understand. Thank you, I hope I didn’t cause too much of an inconvenience.” You had began wandering around the room, collecting your belongings so you could leave as quickly as possible but Jungkook didn’t want that. “Y/N, slow down. I’ll give you something to change into, that dress can’t be comfortable.” He was right, it wasn’t. But neither was this predicament and every second you spent there was a second spent remembering the night you’d rather forget. You never drinking, ever again. 

Jungkook had come back from raiding his closet with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. “You can change in the bathroom. Come down and eat breakfast and then I promise I’ll take you home.” “I don’t need to eat.” You shook your head, even tried rejecting the clothing but Jungkook had dropped it into your arms. “Unless you want to puke for 3 hours I suggest you get changed and come down to eat.” You rolled your eyes but complied nonetheless. 

You looked up at your reflection and you were a mess, your makeup was inconsistent, you were assuming it was because of the tears. Luckily, you didn’t wear mascara and after washing your face and tying up your hair, you started to look like yourself again. Jungkook’s clothing, which seemed to engulf your figure, had smelt nice and felt soft. You didn’t want to get used to it so you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind and left the room. 

You could see the stairs clearly from where you were standing so finding the kitchen was straightforward enough. Jungkook was seated on the island, phone in hand with two plates of what looked like omelettes. Jungkook had looked up at the soft patter of your feet and smiled. “You look good in my clothes.” You mumbled a quiet thank you and hopped onto the high chair that was surprisingly comfortable. “You want coffee?” You shook your head and poked around your omelette, you were never a big fan of eggs but you’d never complain. 

“Fuck Y/N, I can’t take this, please talk to me.” You wanted to but you’d already said all you wanted to say yesterday (rather harshly) and you didn’t feel like repeating yourself. “There’s nothing to talk about.” He sighed and got up to pour himself a cup of coffee, when he had returned, you had already eaten a third of your omelette. “Can we go now?” “Can you listen to my explanation first?” You nodded timidly, you wanted an explanation desperately but you were also scared of the truth. That he didn’t like you and never did. 

“My first ever love was in high school. She was my senior, I was a year younger and infinitely less experienced, but that didn’t stop me.” You both laughed, knowing that Jungkook was stubborn when he wanted to be. “She was beautiful, the kind of beautiful that took time to truly process, she was smart, book smart at least and she was kind to everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it. We dated for just over a year, it was nearing my graduation when she passed away. Car accident, drunk driver. Instead of getting the justice she deserved, her parents who barely had a dollar to their name were forced to settle for the equivalent of a used Toyota. The girl who hit her was old money rich, her family had connections with the best defence attorneys in the world. The lawyers she hired, put a price on a person I loved, they tried to tell me how much her life was worth and it wasn’t generous.”

Jungkook wasn’t crying, but you were. You knew the world was cruel but growing up in a middle-income family in a peaceful neighbourhood truly shielded you from a lot of life’s challenging aspects and knowing this had happened to a girl, just like you, really shattered your heart. You felt even worse trying to imagine how Jungkook had felt and how horrible the situation was in general. “I pursued law enforcement for her. She’s the reason I’m where I am today. I’m not asking for your pity, or excusing my actions but I want you to understand. Every time I start falling in love with someone, I pull away because no matter how tough I look, I can’t deal with loss.”

“I thought pushing you away would protect myself and that was incredibly selfish, and I’m sorry. I thought that I could do this, that’s why I confessed but the moment I was alone with my thoughts again, I realised I couldn’t. But for you, I’m willing to try. I’ll put everything I have into this, all I ask is that you forgive me for the colossal asshole I’ve been lately.” Jungkook held your hands in his and you giggled through the tears after he’d insulted himself and Jungkook felt his heart swell at you. 

“Alright but from now on, just give me the worst of you and we’ll deal with it together.” “Deal.” Jungkook inched closer to you, his hands cupped your face as he wiped the remnants of your tears. With your faces barely a centimetre apart, you could really see the pain in his eyes and all you wanted to do was kiss it away. So you did. Dragging his head down by his neck, you gave Jungkook a soft kiss on the lip that barely lasted a second but he needed more. 

Jungkook had opted to rest one of his hands on the back of your stool, the other on your cheek as he kissed you deeper. “I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.” Jungkook whispered out in-between kisses. “Nap with me and I’ll forgive you.” Jungkook chuckled before placing one last peck on your lips. He wrapped your legs around his torso and lifted you up smoothly. You squealed in shock but Jungkook ignored it, his mind solely on getting you back in his bed. You really did nap, and you enjoyed it quite a bit, after all his arms were the comfiest pillow.

[luvdsc]

Hey Cat!! I hope you're doing well as always ! 💖 AHHHH huhu I closed the form last Sunday since I've collected enough responses dy! (NOOOOOOOO ToT) I got a total of 221 responses at the end of the week, which is 3x the amount I initially needed! :o I'm beyond grateful and appreciative ToT I've cleaned the data and have proceeded to run some data analysis, but I ran into an issue whereby the scores on the subscales are equal (it has never been reported in past studies! :O) so I'm waiting for my supervisor's feedback on how to proceed. Hopefully it's nothing too serious ToT

Hehe finance is interesting indeed! I just started reading a book on finance for young adults (Rich Dad Poor Dad) and I look forward to learning more from the author's tips! The Coursera introductory course has also made financial terms a lil more familiar, even though it's just the basics and it's really helped w my financial literacy 🥺 I can push myself to study but it's also the numbers and calculations I'm worried of cuz I am rly a nong (idiot) when it comes to numbers * - * it runs in the genes I guess AHAHAHAHA my mom and sister aren't good at numbers either keke

Aww I'm glad yr professor made financial accounting enjoyable and a fruitful experience for you! Some lecturers / professors rly just have that spark in them to inspire ppl and I'm blessed to be surrounded by a bunch of em in the psych department!🥺😭 it truly makes a difference and I'm sure we both are living proofs of that!

After debating for a while, I've decided not to take a minor mainly because I'm so tired HAHAHAHAHAHA and I'll just do my own self-studying and exploration whilst working! Go out and explore the world, live life! Whilst ironically still staying in my room because of the COVID-19 situation in our country (cases are abt 20+k every day :') ) My proposal has been finalized and it's been accepted! It's just that some elements of my proposal is also part of my actual report, so I have some guidance to refer to in terms of structure! :3 and yes don't worry! I got plenty (sometimes a lil too much) rest during the sem break whilst remaining productive! Plus, I got to catch up w some friends and had game nights (maybe too much of game nights hehe) and movie nights w my friends which was truly refreshing! Also cuz I might not see a lot of them again after we graduate so we gotta cherish every moment 🥺😭

I'm a freelance graphic designer for my uni's newsletter! Occasionally, they'd ask us to create both the content and design! I'll place the link to my recent work below if you wanna check it out! UwU I'm trying to incorporate the same practices during sem break in my last sem (current sem) too! cuz yes mental health is so so important and I'm just tired of being academically tired you get me? :(

What makes me most trilled abt learning abt psychology is how to apply it in daily life too! I find it so fascinating and awestruck at how relatable and within reach these things are like wow we can be influenced in such ways?? :o can be both good and bad but imma stick w seeing it as the development and evolution of us humans UwU

Also, the vaccine has fixed my sleep schedule HEHE (another perk of getting vaccination :3) I got some rly good rest and managed to reset my usual sleeping time, thank you science ToT oooo I see I see, we've had cases of nurses injecting empty syringes hence the recording :( but GHIOGHWEOGIOHW I could never do that, I can feel the liquid entering me as it is so that's good enough ToT (* plays Love Talk * I can feel it coming)

OMG YOUR ART PIECES ARE SO BEAUTIFUL, ADORABLE AND ELEGANT! 💖🥺🥰 it must've required a lot of hard-work and effort AHHH thankiew for showing me yr work!! it's truly unique in its own manner despite it's simplicity UwU is there a reason or backstory to yr chosen theme and objects? :3

I just Googled Somi Somi and omg that's such an UwU ice cream AHHHH 💖🥺😭 ice cream is my fav food of all time and it looks like an ice cream haven omg imagine eating it after a loooong hard day's of work ToT and OMG THE SATISFACTION OF EATING THAI MILK TEA ICE CREAM ON A HOT DAY YASSS 😋🤤 hehe if you get the chance to try milk & biscoff, do try it! It's amazing !😍 and ooo i haven't tried alcoholic ice cream before but I will one day!! :3 my alcohol tolerance is rly low though, will I get tipsy over alcoholic ice cream? We shall see UwU (i can only drink half a bottle of apple cider before my face gets red and I start getting a lil tipsy + headache)

and lovie....knowing yr school schedule now...OURS IS DEFINTELY BRUTAL OMG a 3 month long sem break huhu that's only the total amount of sem breaks we get in a year ToT i thought uni was hard but not that hard ToT

Always glad and honored to have you onboard! and AHAHAHAH the contractions about to start soon 👀 I enjoy talking to you huhu you're such a sweet and supportive person 💖🥺🥰😙 huhu for my period cramps, I've been having them since I was 12 ToT my doctor prescribed me some panadols but sometimes I can't even swallow them cuz I'd puke them out ToT I've settled w heatpacks to reduce my reliance on medicine, but I finally got some upgraded and safe to eat medicine from my gynae! She said it's fine to take it every month to keep my womb healthy and apparently my ms. lil uterus is suffering from inflammation, hence the super crazy bedridden cramps :( the upgraded medicine worked for a while, but after time it kinda didn't help either :/ but I realised that exercise rly does wonders to reduce the cramp too (gynae also recommended exercising) so i take walks and do my back stretches more frequently now! my period in the previous months (2 months ago) have been almost painless and bearable, it's so weird not seeing my bedridden ._. when I was in high school, there would always be a day in every month in which I don't attend classes, and that's solely because of my cramps. It just isn't worth suffering in school, plus we don't have a sick room :/ I hope the pain continues to subside! ToT

And ayy internship is also working experience, yr advice would be of great help to me regardless! 🥺 oh yes, I always remind myself that interviews are similar to the speaking test I took for my Cambridge English exams! That kinda help calm my nerves down a lil, but w nerves comes bigger smiles, so I guess it takes on a rather practical form of coping mechanism (sublimation) AHAHAHAHA

WAAAA WHAT A QUEEN you got an offer from every interview?? I aspire to be like you! 💖🥺🥰 huhu skill wise I believe I have lots to prepare esp in terms of case studies, and I perform rly poorly on certain assessments (*ehem * esp those concerning numbers) so I took the chance to study a lil during sem break too ToT but noted on that! I will work on that too and try to maintain that me element in interviews and overall just be myself keke

That's all from me for now! Imma wait for my supervisor's feedback and journey on w my last semester. Bon voyage! Link to my recent work: https://www.instagram.com/p/CTBqGzjr6sN/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link Other works: https://www.instagram.com/p/CPpv-IyM7Gi/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link https://www.instagram.com/p/CL55EG-MbL2/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

hi hello honey bee !!! 💓 omg i'm so sorry for the belated response, i finally got on my laptop 😭 i'm gonna put my response under the cut since it got a little long 🤧

omg 221 responses !!!!! that's so many 🙀 congratulations aaaaa it's amazing that you were able to get 3x the data you needed !!! was it difficult to run data analysis? were you able to solve the issue with the equal scores on the subscales? i hope it didn't create too much additional work for you ):

omg yes finance is really interesting! i enjoyed the classes i took for it :') how is rich dad poor dad? did you learn a lot from it? i know it was a book my prof recommended, but i never got around to reading it 😶 did you learn any helpful tips? and ooo i'll have to look into coursera! yeah, there's quite a lot of terms for finance, and it can be a little intimidating paired with all the math formulas and such, but it's pretty useful imo! how are your financial studies going so far? 💕 omg nong is such a cute word?? i would never think it meant idiot asdkfhlkajsdf omg my whole family is good at numbers and really like math, but i didn't like it 😭 my mom made me study it a lot everyday though rip are the financial calculations getting easier for you as you practice more hopefully?

yessss omg i absolutely agree with this!!!! like you can just feel when a professor loves to teach and is genuinely so excited to talk about their subject, and it just makes the most boring horrible subject into something you learn to enjoy and hate less :') and i'm really happy to hear you have tons of professors like that in the psych department 🥺💗

that's great to hear!!!! 🌷🌷 i'm glad that you're prioritizing yourself and your health, which is so much more important than taking on a minor. what fun subjects have you decided to explore and self study so far? 💞 oh my gosh, the rising cases are so high?? i hope it's gotten better there for you ): are you able to go outside yet?

big congratulations on your proposal being finalized and accepted, lovebug !!!! 🥳🥳 i'm very proud of you and hoping one day i can read your published studies in a scientific journal :') aaaa i'm so glad to hear that you got to rest and enjoy your time with your friends!! i definitely feel that omg i regret all the times i skipped out on movie nights or game nights with my friends because now we're all scattered across the country and the only way we can have them again is over zoom calls 🤧

I SAW YOUR DESIGNS AND THEY'RE GORGEOUS OMG I LOVE THEM SO MUCH !!!! 💖 I'M IN AWE AAAA IF PSYCH DOESN'T WORK OUT, I HOPE YOU BECOME A GRAPHIC DESIGNER 🤩🤩💖 and yes i totally get it ): i really felt the academic burn out when i was in college and it was really difficult at times 🤧 but i hope it's going better for you nowadays, sweetpea 💝💝

omg yeah i absolutely agree !!!! whenever i read about psychology, i keep it in the back of my mind and then when i see something irl that relates to it, i'm like :O amazing. it's so cool to learn about different psych tricks too and see how it works when you test them out yourself and whatnot. and it's really crazy to see how the human brain is so easily influenced at times ??? it truly is an amazing subject !!!

ah what a great side benefit of the vaccine - a better sleep schedule 🤩 i'm happy to hear that your schedule has been fixed 💘 and omg what ??? they're injecting empty syringes wth ????? 😭 that's absolutely horrible, are they getting sued?? lmaooooo that love talk reference askdfhlaksjd

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR KIND COMPLIMENTS 😭😭💗💗 there were many late hours spent in the art studio to finish them, but i'm really happy with the end products :') i thought light bulbs are an interesting subject to do, and my prof said that cutting out circular objects or sculpting them is the most difficult since they're made up curves and not straight lines and i was like ok bet i'm gonna do it aND I'M SO GLAD I DID BECAUSE I REALLY LIKE THEM 🥺 and i love honey bees !!! that's why i decided to paint them and we were supposed to paint them in a combined style of two artists so i tried monet's impressionist style with the short brush strokes and pop art triptych style like marjorie strider 💕

somi somi is sooo good and i just had it again a couple weeks ago :') omg ice cream is your favorite food? :o and YES ice cream is so satisfying after a long day of hard work, like it's such a nice reward to look forward to at the end of day ✨ aaaaa i have to try thai milk tea ice cream one day now !!!!! it sounds amazing 🤩 and YES i must look for places that sell milk & biscoff ice cream !! i have milk ice cream from somi somi, but i need to try to combined flavors 💘 i don't think you'll get tipsy over it !!! it's a really faint taste of alcohol, like i didn't even notice it at first, and i don't think they put very much of it in there! aksljdfhals omg you're a lightweight :o at least that means you save money on alcohol LOL i need like nine shots to get drunk 🤧

your school is too hard 😭 you need more than just 3 months of break !!! 😡 we get a week off for thanksgiving in fall semester and a week off for spring break in spring semester too and then the month long winter break and three month summer break. and we have the one day holidays off too like labor day, memorial day, etc. i can't believe they give you so little time off after working so hard???

asdfhlkajshdlksja loool are the contractions over yet? has it been born? what's the current status, doctor? 👀 i really enjoy talking to you too !!! i'm very sorry for the late responses, work is really taking over all of my time, and i never have enough time to get on my laptop to reply to my asks 😭 and thank you for saying such kind things about me 🥺🥺💝 oh my gosh, i'm so sorry to hear that you have such terrible cramps 😭 i can't even imagine going through that - mine are nowhere near as horrible 😖 do the heatpads help a lot? i'm relieved to hear that you were prescribed better medication though! but yeah, your body does eventually get used to the medication and you have to continue taking stronger meds for it to work, but that's not a very healthy solution /: but i'm really glad to hear that exercise has been helping out a lot!! 💖 hurray for almost painless and bearable periods 🥳 i'm sorry to hear that you had to go through that in high school ): that sounds absolutely horrible 😭 periods are just awful, but it's like i'm grateful that i have my period because that means i'm not pregnant, but also please go away aslkhdfaklsj

omg what was the speaking test for the cambridge english exams like? :o it sounds so formal and a lil intimidating askdjfhalsd do you know of any psych tricks that can possibly help calm your nerves? :')

aaaa yes i did !! i was really surprised that i got an offer from them all because at the time, i was not in the right major and i think i was one of the most underqualified applicants 🤧 one person who interviewed me asked why i withdrew from my engr physics class and i explained it in a kinda funny way but in my head, i was like "oof i'm not gonna get this offer anymore" but then he laughed at my response and told me about how his prof told him he should drop a guitar class he was taking because he was doing very poorly and we bonded over that aklsjdhfkals omg how do interviews for psych jobs go? do you have to discuss a lot of case studies? do they give you a list of possible case studies they'll ask about? :o what sort of assessments do you have to do? good luck on all of your interviews, honey bee 💛 i'm rooting for you, you're gonna do amazing !!!! 💘

omg what did your supervisor say about your case study? and how is your last semester going? are you almost done now? 🌸 (also how have you been? what have you been up to? thank you for taking the time to leave such detailed messages for me, i'm really excited to see all the fun updates in your life, lovebug 🌷🌷)

[more-miserables]

I was trying to keep a steady-ish posting schedule but that hasn’t happened. I’m flakey as hell now I don’t have teachers and deadlines. I don’t know if any of you guys still remember or care about my pair of whumpees, but I was randomly inspired tonight. Hope you enjoy this anyway.

Tagging: @albino-whumpee @cubeswhump @liliability

Warnings for dehumanizing language, institutionalized slavery, boxboy universe, implications of past self-harm, implied and obvious abuse, implications of drugging, very brief implication of an eating disorder, panic attacks, lots of messed up stuff, you guys know.

Yates never seemed to get completely better after his illness. He stopped coughing, his fever went away, but he stayed very pale, and Ginger could hear how crackly his breathing was at night. His nerves didn’t seem to recover either. Yates’s hands shook now whenever Stanley gave him a task, and he became clumsy and jumpy, forever dropping things. Stanley stopped being so soft with him and started yelling, which just made things worse. Yates was a bundle of stress.

He cried bitterly every night, cradled in Ginger’s arms. “I’m a failure,” he sobbed. “I keep messing up. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“It’s not you, it’s never been you. You’re just tired, that’s all it is,” Ginger insisted over and over, but Yates couldn’t seem to hear him.

Seeing Yates looking so pale and miserable all the time made Ginger burn with fury. He didn’t care about the pain in his head now; he was frequently spitting in Ivy and Stanley’s food, arguing back, slamming doors, doing anything he could to draw their attention away from Yates. He was disciplined over and over, in new and creative ways, until he was black and blue all over, but it was worth it to keep Yates safe.

The first time he swore at Ivy he was chained up in the garden all night, completely naked. Ginger drew his bare knees up to his chest and held them tight, shivering. English winter nights could grow cold enough to kill, especially when a person had no protection; maybe that’s what Ivy wanted.

Maybe that’s what Ginger wanted too.

“Ginger?”

Ginger jumped, his head snapping up off his knees. Yates was standing beside him, pale and anxious, carrying a blanket.

“What’re you doing here? How’d you get out of the room?” Ginger asked.

“Window,” Yates whispered, cuddling up beside Ginger and wrapping the blanket around them both. “I couldn’t just leave you out here. Give me your hands, I’ll warm them.”

“You’ll get into trouble if they catch us,” Ginger said, linking his fingers with Yates’s.

“I couldn’t leave you,” Yates repeated firmly. He clasped Ginger’s freezing hands between his own, rubbing them hard.

Ginger smiled weakly. Maybe he didn’t want to die just yet.

It was hard to hang onto that feeling during the day, even so. Ivy found fault with everything he did now, and Stanley was equally brutal with Yates. Ginger’s headache was constant, but he refused to lie down and take it. He argued, yelled, swore and spat like a wildcat, allowing Yates to creep around relatively unnoticed.

Ivy had taken to standing in the kitchen while Ginger cooked, peering over his shoulder and critiquing every single thing he did, even the most basic things like pouring water. Each correction carried its own insult.

“Stir that syrup, it’s sticking to the bottom of the pan! Are you blind as well as stupid?”

“I thought icing cakes was your speciality? Seems you only specialise in failure.”

“You’re too heavy-handed with that whisking. I don’t know why we ever bought you. You’re such a disappointment.”

Ginger knew Ivy was just trying to wind him up - but it was working. He felt like he was boiling along with the syrup. It was so unfair to be stuck making wonderful desserts for two people who told him he was stupid and useless and disappointing - and he couldn’t even spit in the food with Ivy hovering.

Ginger held his tongue, presenting Ivy with the finished cake. It was baked beautifully despite Ivy’s complaints, with pin-neat icing flowers and swirls, the buttercream smooth as silk. It was perfect - but Ivy sniffed scornfully. She gripped the plate and slowly pushed it off the counter, watching it fall face down on the floor with a depressing splat.

“Make another one,” she commanded, then turned on her heel to walk away.

Ginger felt like someone had ignited a bomb in his chest. He burned all over with rage. Without thinking, he grabbed hold of the egg box, took one out and pelted it with all his force at Ivy. The egg hit her squarely in the back of her head, splattering yolk down her back and in her hair. The force of the blow sent her staggering forward with a scream. She peered over her shoulder, looking bewildered. For a second.

Ivy’s face flushed a deep red, and she rushed at Ginger, gripping fistfuls of his red hair and slamming him against the kitchen counter. “How dare you!” she screamed, shaking him so violently he felt she’d yank out clumps of his scalp too. “I won’t stand for this. You’ll learn if I have to beat you till you piss blood!”

“Get off me!” Ginger yelled back. He tried kicking out at Ivy, but he was weak and undernourished, and Ivy was a big, strong lady. He couldn’t wriggle free.

“Give me your hand!” Ivy commanded. Ginger didn’t, so she took hold of his left wrist herself, dragging him over to the cooker. “I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget. You’ll be able to look at your hand every day after this and remember what happens to disobedient little pets.”

She swept the dirty saucepans away with a flick of her arm. The hob was still on, glowing bright red with heat. Ginger renewed his efforts to break free, but Ivy hung on grimly, battering him about the head with her free hand.

“Remember this,” she snapped, and pressed Ginger’s palm firmly against the hob.

The scream Ginger let out echoed through the whole house. It was barely human, like the howl of a dying animal in a trap. Ivy held his hand down for a good three seconds, though it felt like a lifetime to Ginger. He arched his fingertips, trying his hardest to escape the blinding heat, but Ivy had her hand pressing down on the back of his own, so Ginger’s palm couldn’t be spared.

When she finally let him go, Ginger collapsed in a heap on the floor, whimpering. He cradled the burned hand to his chest. It was bright red and already starting to blister. The kitchen was filled with a sickly sweet, burning smell, and he gulped in horror when he realised he was smelling his own cooked flesh. He couldn’t stop the tears this time, though he hated Ivy seeing how much she’d hurt him.

Ivy laughed heartlessly. “I told you so,” she said. She crouched down in front of him, her voice soft, menacing. “You’ll never win. You’ll learn to do as you’re told if it kills me - or if it kills you.” Then she stalked out the room, leaving Ginger sobbing on the floor.

Yates was horrified when he saw Ginger’s hand that night. He’d heard the scream, but Stanley hadn’t allowed him to go investigate. Ginger told him the whole story, whispering because his crying had left his voice raw and painful. He couldn’t remember how long he’d cried; it must’ve been hours. His hand was still so painful he couldn’t move it. His fingertips were mostly spared, though they were raw and red, but his palm was screaming and covered all over with throbbing blisters. He couldn’t even make a fist anymore.

“Ivy did this?” Ginger had never seen Yates look so angry. “That’s horrible! Oh, you must be hurting so badly. How could she?” He took hold of Ginger’s hand. “You poor thing... Here, I’ll help you. I’ll fix it.”

They sat up well into the night while Yates cleaned, treated and bandaged Ginger’s palm as best he could with the limited supplies. He didn’t have anything stronger than pharmacy painkillers and it barely touched Ginger’s agony. Before the burn was even properly dressed, Ginger had been begging Yates to stop for almost an hour. He was howling again, light-headed with pain.

“Stop, stop, please...” he moaned.

“I’m almost done, I promise,” Yates whispered. He saw Ginger starting to wobble and quickly pulled him close, right onto his own lap. Ginger was bigger and heavier so Yates must’ve been very squashed, but he didn’t complain. “Put your head on my shoulder. I don’t want you fainting. Your eyes keep losing focus.”

Ginger let his head fall on Yates’s shoulder with a thump, biting his shirt hard when the treatment continued and the pain returned with a vengeance. He managed not to faint, but the agony combined with his sobbing made him retch. He thumped Yates’s shoulder weakly with his good hand. “Le’ me up,” he gasped. “‘M gonna puke.”

“No, you stay there,” Yates said firmly. “I don’t care if you’re sick. Do whatever you need to. Vomit, bite my shirt, bite me if you need to. It’s alright.”

So Ginger stayed, and when he did bring up bile and spit all down Yates’s back and across their mattress, Yates didn’t even flinch. Ginger felt a soft hand rubbing up and down his back, a gentle voice shushing him when he groaned.

“I know, I’m sorry, but we need to make sure it’s treated properly,” Yates said, his own face crumpling whenever Ginger whimpered. “I’ll change your bandages every day, but it’s going to take a while before this heals. How’re you going to do any cooking and cleaning?”

“I’ll have to, won’t I?” Ginger sighed wearily. “Never mind that now. I don’t even care about the mess. Let’s just get some sleep, please.”

The next day was exceptionally difficult for Ginger. He supposed that was what Ivy had wanted. His bandages were cumbersome and clumsy, and the pain was still so terrible he couldn’t put any weight on the afflicted hand. Ivy made sure to give him every possible job that required two hands, eventually resorting to ordering him to move heavy furniture across the room and back with no real purpose other than to cause him pain. Several times Ginger’s knees buckled from the agony, his vision becoming dark and fuzzy at the edges, but Ivy’s shrill voice would always drag him back to reality. He vomited again three times before noon.

Ivy elbowed Ginger out of the way when he prepared Stanley’s lunch tray, piling it with half a dozen plates, cups, cutlery, even a teapot. She smirked, handing it to Ginger. “Be careful, it’s heavy!” she said in a falsely bright voice. “Hold it with both hands.”

Ginger couldn’t. It wasn’t even about defiance anymore, he really truly couldn’t. He was almost sobbing with the pain already, shifting the majority of the tray’s weight to his right hand. He couldn’t take this anymore. He wanted to run far away, across fields and over pavements and through cities. He wanted to lock himself away with Yates and never see another person again. He wanted to cut his own hand off to stop the pain. He wanted so many things and none of them were allowed.

Stanley’s door was closed. Ginger tried nudging it with his foot, but it didn’t budge. He didn’t know how he was supposed to get the door open with just one working hand. He knocked, but Stanley just barked at him to come in already and stop hovering outside. Ginger sighed, juggling the tray and trying to hold it just for a second with his left hand as he grasped for the door handle with his right.

Sharp pain surged all the way up his left arm in an instant. He stumbled through the doorway with a yelp, dropping the tray with a terrible clatter. Food splashed all across the linoleum and crockery shattered into shards of glass like glittering stars. Stanley and Yates gawped as Ginger landed on his knees on the bedroom floor, crouched in the midst of the mess.

“You stupid, clumsy idiot!” Stanley roared, his face flushing scarlet. He grabbed his walking stick and raised it to swing.

“Oh please, sir! It’s not Ginger’s fault,” Yates gasped frantically. “He’s hurt his hand, sir. He shouldn’t really be working at all. Please don’t hit him! He’s being so brave and-”

“Shut up, will you! You’re getting far too mouthy. Ginger’s a bad influence. You shouldn’t question me, boy.” Stanley paused, walking stick still raised like he was about to conduct an orchestra. He suddenly smirked, holding it out to Yates. “Okay. I won’t hit him.”

Yates took the stick gingerly. “R-really, sir?”

“Am I not a man of my word? You, Ginger!” he barked.

Ginger raised his head, glaring through his curtain of red hair.

“Hold out your hand!”

Ginger did as he was told.

“No, not your right hand. The one with the wound,” Stanley said, still smiling. Ginger did so, far more reluctantly. Stanley turned to Yates. “I won’t hit him. So you’ll have to do it for me. That’s what you’ve been trained to do, correct? So whack him six times on that hand with my walking stick. And don’t you dare hold back or I’ll double the punishment.”

Yates stared at Stanley, mouth gaping. “But... but he’s so badly hurt, sir.”

“That’s no concern of mine. Get to it.” He paused. “At once!”

Yates glanced at Ginger, helpless and terrified. Ginger tried to smile at him. It’s okay, he mouthed. He wanted to comfort him, but Yates’s eyes filled with tears - bad tears, that’s what they’d been taught. He’d never seen Yates cry properly.

“No,” Yates said quietly, his voice wobbling. He put the stick back in its usual place by Stanley’s bed.

“What?” Stanley snapped. “What’re you waiting for? Do as you’re told, boy!”

“I won’t,” Yates said. He blinked, and two fat tears ran down his face. “I’m not going to hit him, especially when he’s hurt.”

Stanley trembled with rage. He grabbed his stick and aimed a swipe at Yates instead, and Ginger hurried to his feet to drag Yates out of reach. Stanley shakily swung his legs out of bed, leaning heavily on the stick, practically frothing at the mouth.

“You disobedient little swine!” he yelled, pointing mutinously at Yates. “You’re more loyal to him than me, the man who feeds and clothes you and lets you live under his roof. All Ginger ever does is hold you back! How dare you! You’re not to answer to Yates any longer. I don’t want you attached to my name. You’re not worthy of it. You’re nothing.”

Yates was sobbing in earnest. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t hurt Ginger like that. I’m still loyal, I promise, I can still be Yates, I-”

“Shut up!” Stanley screamed. He turned to Ginger, crimson in the face and breathing heavily. “And you! You were a mistake right from the start. You’re the cause of all this!”

“What the hell is going on up here? What’s all the noise?” Ivy demanded, rushing into the crowded bedroom too. “Oh for God’s sake, look at the mess on the floor! And what’s your idiot blubbering about, Stanley?”

Stanley wasn’t listening. “Get him out of here!” he boomed, pointing at Ginger. He sounded so fierce that Ivy did as she was told at once, grabbing a fistful of Ginger’s hair and yanking him out the door.

“You just wait!” Stanley continued, staggering out into the hall and yelling down the stairs as Ivy pulled Ginger away. He was exceptionally wobbly without his wheelchair, supporting himself on his stick and the wall. “I’ll turn you out of my house without a care. You’ll die like a dog in the gutter, you’ll see. I won’t have you two together anymore. You’re getting in the way of Yates’s work. You need to be separated!” He wavered precariously, eyes wild.

Ginger felt sudden panic, raw and sharp. “You can’t split us up! We’re a pair!” he yelled.

“I can do whatever I want with you. You’re mine,” Stanley said triumphantly. “And you’ll do as I say, and be out of here by-“

Stanley was cut off by a sudden cacophony of bumps and thumps, then eerie, still silence. Ivy, almost back at the kitchen with Ginger in tow, quickly hauled him back to the bottom of the stairs.

They stopped short. Stanley was lying crumpled in a heap on the floor, one leg bent at an unnatural angle, head twisted uncomfortably and staring at the ceiling. There were shallow, rasping gasps coming from low in his chest. His eyes swivelled round frantically, the only part of his body still able to move freely.

Ivy started screaming. Ginger’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t make a sound. He looked up - and saw Yates standing there at the top of the stairs, face ghostly pale, eyes wide, outstretched arms shaking, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

There wasn’t time to think. They couldn’t let Ivy recover from the shock. Ginger dashed up the stairs, grabbed hold of Yates and rushed him down past Stanley’s crumpled body, along the corridor and out the door. They ran like rats despite the hard pavement cutting their bare feet. They ran even though they had no idea where to go next.

[blackcatkita]

The Consequence of Secrets- Chapter 28

The Queen and the Babysitter

Word Count- 4578. Special thanks to @darley1101​ for describing what morphine feels like since I’ve never had to take any pain meds myself. I hope you like Jennifer and Drake’s time in the hospital and if you do, please like, comment, or reblog! I appreciate every single note!

The last thing Jennifer remembers is the morphine slipping through her veins like warm honey when she wakes to the smell of something… delicious. Something that reminds her of cook-outs in the summer and roadside diners and taking the first salty bite of a piping hot French fry. She opens one eye.

“Yo,” Drake greets her from where he sits on the couch, legs all spread out like he owns the place as he pops a fry into his mouth.

“Creep. I hope you realize it’s weird to stare at people while they sleep.”

“I wasn’t. Don’t flatter yourself. Until you started moaning and smacking your lips anyway,” Drake replies. “Thought you were about to puke or something but no, you just want my food.” Eyebrow raised, he taunts her by eating another fry.

She narrows her eyes. “If you brought Seraphim’s in here again without bringing me some, I’m busting out the guillotine. You’ve seen the storage areas in the palace. They never get rid of anything. Bet I can find one.”

“Are you going to be dramatic the whole time I’m here?”

“Are you going to give me food?”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he shakes his head and stands with the bag from the diner.

“Yay!” There’s a slightly uncomfortable pull as she rolls from her side to her back too quickly, but no pain, and she feels way less loopy than she had with the full doses of morphine she was on before. This, she really can handle. “What did you bring me?” she asks with a little bounce as she raises the bed to a sitting position.

Drake wheels the tray over her lap and digs into the bag, naming off the items as he places them down in front of her. “Fries, a fruit salad so I can at least argue I brought something healthy, and a cheeseburger just the way you like it; ketchup, mustard, and pickles.”

She squeals in delight as she snatches up the burger and quickly peels away half of the paper wrapper before taking a big bite. “Oh my god…” she moans, chewing slowly to savor the greasy deliciousness. It’s better than chocolate. It’s better than sex. Ok, perhaps it’s not better than sex, but at this moment it’s everything she’s ever wanted and oh so satisfying. As she swallows, she looks at the table in front of the couch, then up at Drake. “No chocolate milkshake?”

“Two days ago you couldn’t keep anything down. I think we’re pushing it enough with the burger and fries, don’t you?”

She shrugs and takes another bite.

Drake places a handful of ketchup packets and some napkins on the tray, then checks her cup of water. It’s still full, and he sets it back down. “Need anything else?”

Ripping off part of the fry bag to squirt some ketchup onto it, she shakes her head. “This is perfect. Thank you, Drake.”

“No problem.” He strides back to the couch and sits, taking another burger out of the bag for himself. “I should have brought you a Sprite. Or a ginger ale! Doesn’t that help settle the stomach?” Leaving his food behind, he stands abruptly and starts heading to the door. “I’ll go find the kitchenette thing Liam mentioned. They probably have stuff in there. Or I can ask the nurse for…”

“Drake,” Jennifer laughs. “Sit. Relax. Eat your food. I’m fine, I promise.”

“Right,” he nods. “That’s good. That’s really good.” Scrubbing a hand across his beard, he lets out a breath and returns to his spot on the couch again.

Several minutes of silence pass as they eat, during which Jennifer catches Drake stealing glances out of the corner of her eye. Liam had been the same the first day or so after her surgery. If he wasn’t actively doing things to help her feel better or make her more comfortable, he was asking questions about how he could help her feel better or make her more comfortable. And if he wasn’t asking questions, he was constantly looking at her to make sure she didn’t suddenly need anything since the last time he asked. It was sweet, but if he was still acting like that, she would have lost her damn mind. Drake won’t go to the extreme Liam did, but it’s still best to nip this in the bud before the marshmallow comes out in full force.

Finishing her burger, she wipes the corners of her mouth with a napkin, crumples it up, then places it in the center of the used burger wrapper, right next to the extra bits of the bun she tore off. Next, she calmly gathers the items, squishes them into a tight ball, cocks her arm back, and lets her projectile fly. Her aim is true, and it bounces off the middle of Drake’s forehead to land in his puddle of ketchup with a splat.

“Ow!” Mouth hanging open in shock, he clamps his palm over the point of impact. “What the hell was that for?!”

“Stop being weird.”

“How am I being weird?” he asks, hand still pressed to his forehead. “You’re the one throwing shit.”

“Because you’re being weird. You keep looking at me like you think I’m going to keel over or something. Stop.”

“You’re paranoid!”

“You’re transparent!” she bites back.

They glare at each other for a beat, then burst into laughter.

“Ok, fine,” Drake laughs. “I’ll try to leave you alone. Lord knows you’re getting enough over-protectiveness from Liam. But you have to promise to tell me if you don’t feel right, if you need anything, whatever. Anything happens to you on my watch and he might actually kill me this time.”

Jennifer rolls her eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen but fine, I promise.” Her phone pings, and she picks it up off the tray to read a text from Liam. “Liam will be on in twenty minutes,” she tells Drake as she types out a response to her husband; assuring him she’s fine and will watch every second. She sets the phone down as she turns to Drake. “Plenty of time to talk about feelings and stuff.” She gives him a cheesy smile and wiggles her eyebrows.

“Hard pass.”

“Come on, Drake, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“You saw me yesterday.”

“That doesn’t count and you know it,” she grumbles. “When’s the last time we got to talk, just the two of us?”

“Like a week ago, in the stables in Lythikos.” He pops the last of his burger in his mouth, chews, and swallows before adding, “Where I’ll remind you we did talk about ‘feelings and stuff’.”

“Um, excuse me, so much has happened since then and apparently it worked because here you are. Go ahead, tell me how much of a genius I am. Say it. Say I was right, I’ll wait.”

“You’re going to be waiting for a long time.”

Jennifer laughs and picks up her Styrofoam cup of water. “You’re lucky I’m thirsty or I’d throw this at you next.” She takes a few long pulls from the straw and sets it back down. “What’s it like being back?” She hesitates, torn between being scared to bring it up and dying to find out if Liam was sugar-coating things for her peace of mind. “Is it weird? You and Liam after… the incident that must not be discussed?”

His brow furrows, and he avoids her gaze by gathering up his trash and placing it in the paper diner bag. “Not really?” he shrugs. “I mean, it was awkward at first but it’s a hell of a lot better than I thought it’d be.” He glances up with a soft smile on his face. “Mostly he’s just been worried about you and the baby, so we haven’t really had a chance to talk yet. We will though, don’t worry.”

“Good. Our baby will need their Uncle Drake in their life.” she grins, watching as his face falls. He looks away and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Wringing his hands together, he stares blankly at the table in front of him and nervousness prickles across her skin. After everything she went through the last several days; the pain, the fear, the uncertainty, she had the thought that as horrible as it was, at least it brought them back together. But it still isn’t enough. “You don’t want to talk to him.” It isn’t a question, it’s an observation. To be smacked in the face with the realization your life can change in an instant, that you never know when you might lose someone important to you and you’ll never get the chance to tell them how you really feel… How can it not be enough for them to at least try to fix things?

“No, no, I do.” He waves her off. “Of course I do.” Groaning, he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes before raking both hands through his long hair. He leans back with a sigh and rests his head on the back of the couch, taking a moment before he speaks again. “Olivia’s pregnant.”

Oh. That. She had almost forgotten about that. “…whaaat? That’s crazy.” Her feigned shock sounds pitiful even to her own ears and his eyes snap open as he sits up, rigid like his body has turned to stone. Real smooth, Jennifer. Way to convince him this is the first you’re hearing about it.

Drake looks positively scandalized. “You knew!”

She grimaces. “Yeah… I gave her a pregnancy test during the picnic.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she shouts back. “I was a little preoccupied with trying not to die!”

He cringes at her words, and when their eyes meet again, he has the decency to look apologetic. “I still wish you would have told me. I could have prepared myself a little, at least.”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads up. Liam was leaving for Switzerland the next day and that night we were… um… a little busy and…”

Drake shakes his head, “Yeah, I don’t need to hear about it.”

“Right. Anyway, we were busy. Then the next day I had a bunch of Queenly stuff to do, and that night I got sick. Next thing I knew I was here, so… I never got the chance. Besides, it wasn’t my place to tell you, Drake. It was Olivia’s right to tell you when she was ready.”

He slumps against the couch again, knowing she’s right even if he will never admit it. “I suppose Liam knows?”

“Actually, he doesn’t. I didn’t tell him anything.”

“Yeah, right,” Drake scoffs, raising his eyebrow in disbelief. “You tell him everything.”

“I do not.” Not wanting to miss Liam’s statement, she turns on the tv and flips through the local channels. All of them have ‘Breaking News’ framing the screen while the newsmen and women speculate on her condition; the worst of which being she lost the baby. Her throat tightens, and she places a protective hand on her stomach, gently rubbing to remind herself their little bean is still there. A kick bumps against her palm, and she gives them a little pat in response. “I totally did mean to tell him though.” Shrugging, she lowers the volume until she can barely hear what’s being said. She doesn’t need that kind of negativity in her life. “Slipped my mind, I guess.”

“It slipped your mind,” he speaks in a dry tone. “Me and Olivia having a kid slipped your mind. Wow.”

Jennifer rolls her eyes, “I didn’t forget you were having a baby, I just forgot to tell Liam. Because as I said,” With a sweep of her arms, she gestures at herself in the hospital bed. “I’ve been a little busy.” Rather than commenting on the pout on Drake’s face, she picks up her cup and enjoys the satisfaction of winning this round as she drinks the rest of her water. “So… what are you going to do? Do you think you guys will get married or…?”

“All I know is I’m going to be a dad and part of my kid’s life,” he shrugs. “Other than that I have no fucking clue.” His cheeks puff as he forces a breath through his lips. “Can we talk about something else? How are you doing?”

“Great,” she answers. “Bored as hell, though.”

“When are you getting out of here?”

“I’m not sure. My labs look awesome but they’re still worried about sepsis so they’re pumping antibiotics into my I.V. three times a day. Tomorrow it drops to twice a day for a few days, then oral antibiotics for a few weeks, but I won’t need to be here for that. And they said I had to poop before I could be discharged but I did that this morning so… don’t know.”

“Why…?” Raising his hand to stop her, he shakes his head and closes his eyes like the image is too much. “I don’t want to hear about your bowel movements.”

“You’re the one who asked! Everybody poops, Drake. You need to get over it.” Pushing her tray out of the way, she sits up and sweeps the blanket off her legs.

Drake is on his feet in a flash and shouts, “What the hell are you doing?” One second he was sprawled out on the couch and the next he’s at the side of her bed wearing a manic expression. He might have jumped over the coffee table. She can’t be sure.

Startled and ready to fight to the death, Jennifer raises her fists to her fluttering chest and leans away from the large mountain-man towering over her. “Back off, weirdo! I’m just going to refill my water. Relax.”

“I’ll do it.” He snatches the cup off the tray. “Liam said you’re not supposed to be getting up all the time.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” She rolls her eyes. All the time. Like shuffling to the bathroom every few hours is ‘all the time’. Blood flow is important, she’ll have her dear husband know. Though the last time she used that argument, it didn’t work. Instead, he massaged her legs, which was nice, but she still wants to move around a bit. She’ll try again later, and maybe Liam will even let her walk into the hall like a big girl. You never know, miracles happen every day. “Where are you going?” she asks Drake as he heads toward the door. “Just use the faucet in the bathroom.”

He whirls around, looking highly affronted. “I’m not giving you tap water. Are you insane?” His lip curls as he shoots her a dirty look and turns on his heel.

“Excuse me,” she shouts at his retreating back. “Our water is immaculate, thank you very much!”

In the hall, Drake frantically shouts for water like the room is on fire. It isn’t hard to picture the sight of him, eyes wild while he chases down any poor soul who crosses his path. Jennifer shakes her head, looking up toward the heavens for strength. All the men in her life have lost their minds. Every. Last. One of them.

Several guards taking position between the crowd and the podium draws her attention to the tv, and she turns up the volume as Drake comes back in with a cup in each hand.

He hands her one without meeting her eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “I uh… I might have scared some nurses.”

“You think?” She takes a drink and tips her chin at the tv. “You’re just in time. Looks like Liam is about to go on.” As Drake settles into the chair beside her bed, Jennifer watches her husband exit the glass doors of the hospital with Bastien following behind. Liam wears his usual calm and stoic expression when in the public eye, but his lips show the barest hint of a smile to put the people at ease. “Aww, man. He shaved. I liked that beard.”

“I’m sure he’ll grow it again if you ask him to.”

She flaps her hand and hisses, “Shh!”

Drake shifts in the chair, making the cheap vinyl and worn out springs creak as he twists to set his cup on the cabinet behind him.

“Dude.” She looks at him, lifting her brows in exasperation. “Seriously.”

“Sorry.” He raises his palms and speaks his next word under his breath. “Geez.”

Stepping up to the microphone, Liam rests his palms on the podium and begins to speak. “Thank you all for coming. I would like to take this opportunity to provide you, our people, with facts, and dispel any rumors surrounding the health of Queen Jennifer and our child. Early Wednesday morning, The Queen underwent an emergency appendectomy. The surgery was successful and did not adversely affect the pregnancy.” His eyes flash and even though she can’t see it on the small tv screen, Jennifer knows him well enough to know his jaw is clenched for a split second before he speaks again. “There was no miscarriage.” He says the words deliberately, forcefully, in a firm tone to ensure there is no confusion. “Her recovery is going well and she is eager to get back to work for the Cordonian people but for the time being, she is resting comfortably at the insistence of her doctors.” He pauses and huffs out a laugh, looking out at the crowd in front of him with an easy grin. “I am sure you can all imagine how that went.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jennifer crosses her arms and wrinkles her nose at the tv as the crowd laughs softly, nodding their heads like they know exactly what he’s talking about.

“That you’re stubborn, have no regard for your own safety, hate the idea of being stuck in bed while there’s work to do, refuse to listen to people who only have your health in mind and want what’s best for you…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jennifer cuts Drake off with a wave of her hand. “And I am not stubborn.”

“I beg your pardon?” Drake looks at her like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “You’re the queen of stubborn.”

“I’m the Queen of Cordonia and don’t you forget it.” She shoots him a smug smirk. “Also, I prefer determined, not stubborn, and you act like that’s a bad thing. It’s not. Now hush, you’re making me miss what my man is saying with your nonsense.” She can practically hear Drake’s eyes rolling in his head as she turns her attention back to the rest of Liam’s statement.

“…Jennifer and I wish to extend our heartfelt gratitude to the impeccable staff here at Apple Grove General Hospital. Every person we have encountered from aides, to nurses, to doctors, we have been met with professionalism and a level of care that is second to none; reminding us how important quality health care is to both our family and our people. Also, to those who have sent well-wishes, thoughts, and prayers, we cannot thank you enough. It warms our hearts to know we have the support of the Cordonian people and we will continue to do everything in our power to ensure your support is not misplaced. I’m afraid that is all the time I have for today, but I assure you; The Queen is safe. Our child is safe. The Monarchy is safe.” Liam pauses, looking out at the crowd with a resolute expression to allow his words to sink in. “Good day to you all and thank you again for coming.”

“He’s good,” Drake admits as the camera pans out to show the reporter Donnie Brine with his microphone in his hand. In the background, Madeleine can be seen meeting Liam halfway to the doors, and he turns his head the slightest bit to listen to what she’s saying as they walk, followed by Bastien and a handful of other guards back into the hospital.

“Isn’t he though?” Jennifer clasps her hands to her chest and sighs dramatically. “I love him.”

“Huh. Never would have guessed.” Drake stands and stretches his arms over his head. “God, how does Liam sit here all day and night?”

“You know him, he doesn’t want to leave me here alone.” Jennifer shrugs. “He reads, we play games, watch tv, blah blah blah. And he’s still working, he just does what he can from here.” She listens to the reporters analyze Liam’s statement, talking about how relieved they are she’s doing well and impressed King Liam came out to speak to them personally. Because if he’s outside speaking with them, then her hospital stay must not be as serious as they’d first feared. If only they knew. “At least you guys can leave whenever you want. I can’t even walk around. I’m about to tie a bunch of sheets together and repel out the window.” A doctor she’s never seen or been examined by in her life comes on the screen and starts discussing the statistics of appendicitis in pregnant women and how dangerous it can be. She turns off the tv. “I don’t need a babysitter, you know. You don’t have to stay.”

“Says the woman who’s about to jump out of the window,” Drake grumbles, moving to examine the whiteboard on the wall. There’s nothing listed. She only has two nurses: Ashley during the day and Lucy at night.

“Still threatening that, are we?” Liam asks as he enters the room. Grinning, he nods at Drake as he walks over to the bed. Jennifer lifts her head for a kiss and Liam places one on her cheek. “How are you doing, love? Everything okay?”

“The tv’s in this joint are way too small,” she complains. “That thing’s so tiny you can barely even see what’s going on. Would it kill them to have something you don’t need binoculars to look at? Seems like a good investment for patient morale.”

Liam checks his watch, then swipes the hospital’s food menu off the counter and hands it to her without a word.

“I’m not hungry. My babysitter already fed me,” she tells him. Liam doesn’t respond, just stands there blinking at her until she takes the menu with a roll of her eyes.

“Everything went well?” Liam asks Drake.

“He tried to give me tap water,” Jennifer answers as she reads over the menu. Everything looks good. Fantastic, even. Ok, fine, she might be a little hungry.

“What? I did not!” Drake exclaims. “She’s the one who told me to use tap water. I used bottled water I got from the nurse.”

Laughing, Jennifer flips the menu while Liam waits with his phone in his hand to text security her order. “I’ll have a garden salad with ranch, grilled chicken sandwich, mashed potatoes and gravy, a side of broccoli, chocolate ice cream and some pickles. Like, a bowl of pickles. Oh! And some fries to dip into the ice cream. Strawberries sound good too… No, a slice of apple pie. Or cherry, but apples my first choice. That should do it, I think.”

“Got it,” Liam answers as he types. “Drake, you want anything?”

Drake watches them with wide eyes. He looks scared and a little nauseous. “No, man. I’m good. I’m gonna take off, actually.” He walks over, extending his hand to shake Liam’s. “Maxwell said he needed my help with ‘the best idea ever’ and I want to be there to stop him from blowing something up.”

“I appreciate it,” Liam laughs, pulling Drake into what Jennifer assumes is supposed to be a bro-hug. It’s a little awkward, but a definite improvement.

Spirits lifted by the promise of food and Liam’s friendly gesture, Jennifer waves at Drake with a bright smile on her face. “Bye, Drake. Thanks for watching me!”

Drake huffs out a silent laugh and shakes his head as he leaves the room.

Liam slips his phone into his pocket and sits on the edge of the bed, gently taking her hand. “Bastien and I met with your doctors earlier today.”

“Okay… is something wrong?”

Liam’s lips curl into a soft smile and he shakes his head while gently running his thumb across the back of her hand. “No, nothing is wrong. We were discussing the possibility of you recovering at home in the palace, instead of here.”

“No,” she gasps, gripping his hand tightly.

“Yes,” Liam chuckles. “I would have included you in the meeting but I didn’t want you to get your hopes up should they have been opposed to the idea. We came up with a plan, and Ashley and Lucy have agreed to stay at the palace for the week you would have spent here. They will continue to monitor your progress and administer your medication, and Dr’s Colle and Patel will be on call should anything happen. At the end of the week, your doctors will re-evaluate, but barring any complications, they believe the need for at-home care will have passed by that time.”

Jennifer draws in a shuddering breath, unsuccessfully trying to stop herself from crying. “But… how can they do that? Won’t they be needed here?”

“As Queen, you’re the only patient assigned to them, Jennifer, whether they care for you here or at the palace. Your medical team wasn’t immediately sold on the idea, but once I started speaking in my ‘King voice’ as you call it and explained my concerns with security, they were much more amenable to my request.” Liam shrugs and huffs out a laugh. “I also made a sizable donation to the hospital, though I intended to do so, regardless.”

“When…” Her breath hitches as her tears spill over and she swipes them away. “When do I get to go home?”

“Tomorrow,” Liam answers, wiping away the moisture she missed with the pad of his thumb. “But Jennifer, you are still under the care of an infectious disease specialist and you have to follow the rules your nurses give you. There will be no running around the palace, no work aside from what you can do remotely from our quarters, no jumping on the bed, no scrubbing out the tub, no rolling around the floor with Chance and Tori. You will listen to what they say and take your medicine without complaint.” As she opens her mouth to argue, Liam holds up his hand. “I’m not referring to the morphine. I understand you don’t want to take it and they’ve already begun to wean you off. With everything else I’ve said, do you promise to behave yourself?”

“Yes,” she nods vehemently. “Absolutely.”

“I am not joking, Jennifer. I will not hesitate to tie you to our bed myself if you’re being stubborn or pushing yourself more than you should be.”

“I’m not joking either, Liam. I promise to be the best patient they’ve ever seen. I just want to go home.” She gazes out the window. It’s all out there. Fresh air and flowers and birds singing and the smell of the sea. Freedom is out there. And hallelujah tomorrow she’ll be free too, relatively speaking. “Although…” She turns to him with a mischievous grin. “We should totally revisit the tying up thing. Once I’ve recovered, obviously.”

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Omg omg omg its me AGAIN. Idk how its possible but im in love all over again. I was thinking, like idk ive got so many ideas but like what if one day adeline is like 15 and she kills someone out of instinct, rage etc. And shes rlly guilty and chrollo happens to be in the same city/area n sees n hes gives her the talk??? Like "it is what it is". Maybe even helps her hide the body n evidence so his ex s/o doesn't flip? Totally understand if u dont wanna do 2 requests in a row, love ya xx.

I'm totally fine with doing two in a row baby~ I'm just a little slow is all 🤣 I've had a lot of social interaction going on today and then I came home and now I gotta fix my room so if this doesn't come out the same day I apologize 😅 (probably won't, I'm just super tired) Warning: abuse and violence

Adeline’s chest was heaving, her throat feeling as if she were breathing fire instead of air. Her chest and cheeks were colored an angry red and her legs were beginning to go numb. She couldn’t fall now, not when he was quick on her heels. Tears stained her cheeks, still falling from her eyes. The adrenaline continued to push her forward. To keep her running as fast as she could. The ponytail that held her hair up finally gave way, allowing her long black hair to block some of her vision when she turned around for a split second.

Danny was still too close for her to even begin to slow, his stamina almost inhuman.

A sob wracked her entire body at the sight and she nearly tripped. Her eyes frantically darted everywhere. Where could she run that would slow him down? Could she hide anywhere? Was there anyone else around? She had to find something to at least slow him down. Was there anything at all? Running straight through the pathway in the woods had proven to be a bad idea after she came out into a vast meadow of nothing but grass and dirt patches. 

“Adeline-”

“Leave me alone!” her voice screeched into the evening air, tearing at the tissue in her throat. She prayed her voice would be heard by someone. Anyone. Danny’s pace picked up, his arms quickly enveloping her, crushing her ribs.

“Adeline Lucilfer-”

“LET GO OF ME!” her fist reached up, coming into contact with his jaw and forcing his head up roughly. Danny released her, his hands covering his mouth at the throbbing pain he was probably experiencing. Adeline wasted no time to be proud of herself and began to run again, but her legs weren’t having it. The short time she had been stopped caused her muscles to relax and they wouldn’t cooperate anymore. Instantly, she fell forward, trying to force herself up again and keep going. She heard the deep groan of pain resonating in Danny’s chest. Her heart raced. What could she do? Her legs were rendered completely useless right now and there was nothing she could defend herself with other than her own two fists.

All the running she had done was starting to catch up to her too, her lungs having a hard time allowing her to breathe and her throat burning. Her body wouldn’t help her this time. She was sure she was done for. Adeline flipped onto her back, trying to almost crab walk away while Danny was still getting his bearings. When his eyes met hers, they were swirling with nothing but pure malice. He’d had enough.

“Adeline...” his voice was soft despite his hard face. Her own eyes grew wide, tears once again blurring her vision. The only thing she could actually see was Danny’s broad shape standing to his full height, strolling towards her slowly.

“No... no, no, no, no- Danny please, just leave me alone!” she opted to beg for him, hoping that some slimmer of his good side would show through, showing him what he was actually doing. What he was about to do. Danny didn’t seem to notice her begging or at the very least he didn’t seem to care. Adeline pushed herself up to run but she wasn’t fast enough. A harsh blow was received directly between her shoulder blades, forcing any air in her lungs out within a matter of seconds. She choked, falling onto her chest again. Coughing, she made another attempt to steady herself, but another hit was taken on her lower back. It didn’t hurt as bad as the first one, but the initial shock caused her to hesitate for just a moment too long. A rough hand snatched up her arm and suddenly her body was flipped onto its back. Danny dropped to his knees on top of her and she watched his fist slam into her chest.

Another hit.

Another.

And another.

Her face.

Her chest.

Her stomach.

Adeline was limp on the ground, her breathing becoming more and more labored as the sun set behind her. Her vision had gone completely blurry and she could feel the large bruises forming on her skin. He was brutal. Adeline was only 15, this shouldn’t of been happening. She should have listened to you. She should have listened when you told her to find Chrollo and bring him to her. She should have listened when you said to have Chrollo handle ‘daddy’. But she didn’t. Adeline thought she could protect you from Danny. She wanted to be the hero.

“Are you done running, Adeline?” his voice broke her thoughts. She couldn’t even bring herself to make eye contact with him, still watching the sun fall below the horizon, stars beginning to twinkle in the distance.

“Answer me.” the command shook her.

“Yes...” she tried to form the word properly but her tongue was too big for her mouth all of a sudden.

“Yes what?”

“Yes... daddy...” his sexualization of the word sickened her, but she couldn’t bear to be hit again. She might go unconscious if he struck another blow. He stood, taking her by the shirt collar and making her stand. She stumbled, coming across something in her jacket pocket as her hand fell in while she stabilized herself on her knees.

Her house key.

Hope pushed through her misery. She could put an end to this. An end to him.

“Hurry up, your mother can’t be alone for too long, not with that Chrollo guy running around still. Fucking scumbag..” Danny scoffed, turning to face her again. It hurt her to hear him call Chrollo such a thing. Chrollo had been nothing but sweet you her and you when he came over to see you. She wasn’t sure of why it was her specifically that he wanted to see, but that was probably what you meant to talk to her about today.

“Let’s go!” he ordered, waiting impatiently. Adeline didn’t move, thinking her plan out of how to end this man. This horrible, sick man. Her hand stayed within her pocket, fingering the key in thought. Danny’s teeth ground together, his feet stomping up to the young girl.

“Was I not clear enough? I said let’s go-” when he raised his hand to hit her again, he left himself open. Adeline slid the key out of her pocket and dug it across his throat. At first, she thought she failed as no blood even shown. What gave it away was Danny’s mere expression of surprise. An uneven white slit on his neck turned dark red as it spotted with blood. Then, it poured. The red liquid ran down his chest, leaving the man choking on himself. Adeline slowly backed away, hoping he wouldn’t charge at her in a spur of the moment. Danny did no such thing, solely focused on the fact that his throat had been slit. The fact that he was going to die. Adeline didn’t know what else to do other than watch him struggle to breathe. His hands covered his throat for a moment and wiped at the blood, pulling them away again to see the bright red on his fingers.

“You... you cut me...” his voice was weak and shaky. Adeline didn’t reply. She backed away more, falling onto the ground as her legs fell numb from running. She kept backing away from him, trying to keep her distance.

“Adeline...” he was trying to make her feel like shit, and it was working. What had she done? She just killed the man she called her father and for what? Her mother? Herself? She didn’t even know the answer as he crawled forward. She moved backwards, keeping her distance from him. Danny fell to his knees before her, hand outstretched.

“Why would you... why would you do this?” he kept going as if he didn’t know. As if he hadn’t been the cause of so many sleepless night for both Adeline and yourself. How was he not dead yet? He had to die soon, this was too painful for her to watch. Danny balanced himself on his free hand while the other tried to hold his neck closed, stopping himself from bleeding out. Faster, he scrambled towards her. Adeline held no mercy in her leg as it surged outward, kicking him in the nose. He recoiled on the dirt. Crying. Danny had never cried before, in fact, it was always Adeline and you who cried because of him. Nonetheless, listening to the man sob, helpless and dying in the dust made Adeline nauseous. She couldn’t take this, she couldn’t just sit her and watch him bleed out. But she felt like she couldn’t leave him alone here either. Dying alone was her worst fear. The knowledge of murdering somebody and leaving them to nature made her wretch up her dinner. Doubling over, she puked to the sound of Danny’s final sobs.

Her hands trembled as she held the key in her hand. Why hadn’t he continued to fight her? He still had a chance and he just laid there, surprised by her courage to go so far as to slit his throat. Again, her stomach shoved food up and out of her esophagus, a horrid stench clouding her senses. Her shoulders shook as she lay there on the ground. She didn’t even hear the footsteps come up from behind her.

“Adeline?” a gentle male voice startled her, making her gag on her own vomit. She turned, her eyes meeting Chrollo’s. His brows we’re furrowed, worry obvious in his features.

“What happened?” he kneeled down to her, ignoring her mess underneath her and behind her, curled up in the dirt. Dead.

“I... I can’t-” and she threw up again. Chrollo’s hands worked themselves into her hair, pulling it back for her to keep it out of her face.

“You’re okay, I’m right here.” he shushed her gently, his free hand rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her shaking form. Another vile pool retched out of her mouth, hacking and dry heaving following suit.

Eventually, she managed to calm down. Adeline sat up and wiped her mouth with her jacket sleeve, quickly becoming disgusted with the action and discarding of the attire altogether. She wheezed against her sore throat, the tops of her lungs burning again like when she was running.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Chrollo didn’t even seem affected by the dead man right next to him, even taking a chance to glance at him. His eyes didn’t linger too long on Danny, obviously more worried about Adeline herself than anything. When his eyes met hers again, she couldn’t help but let those tears from before slip out and onto her bruised cheeks and chest. Chrollo didn’t push her any further, instead moving closer to her and embracing her. Every instinct told her to push him away, that she was a monster and that she didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, not after killing somebody. But her weakness didn’t allow her to fight back and she simply melted against Chrollo’s chest, sobbing and quaking. You always told Adeline that Chrollo was a sweet-tempered man, that he was always patient with you and with his friends. It seemed you had been right. He didn’t force Adeline to tell him anything, he didn’t shove her away or treat her unkindly. He knew she wasn’t a bad person and that she was in a state of distress. He had to of known that Adeline wouldn’t kill someone without having a reason. A good one at that.

“Now, Adeline,” he started, lifting her head up to look at him in the eyes. The same eyes as her own. Almost like staring back at her own reflection. It was strange, “I do want to hear about this, however we don’t have much time. We need to dispose of this immediately.” she could hear the urgency edging in his voice, but he still held a level of stability. Adeline nodded, pressing her hands into the dirt to push her body back upright. He followed her over to Danny and thought for a moment, hand on his chin.

“Okay, I’ll have someone take care of this here in a second. I’ll call him.” Chrollo was speaking more to himself than to Adeline, pulling out his phone and dialing a number before letting it ring. She didn’t hear the other end pick up, but it was apparently instant, as Chrollo began speaking to the other man. He gave him their location and the situation at hand, even mentioning his daughter.

At first, this confused Adeline. She wasn’t his daughter. She was Danny’s daughter... her brows furrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. What was he talking about? Sure they had the same eyes and the same hair, and even the same nose now that she really looked at him. You had never told her anything about Chrollo being your father.

“Alright, he’ll be here shortly-” he started after hanging up.

“You called me your daughter..?” she knew it was rude to cut him off, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like she needed to know, felt as if she had the right to know. Chrollo turned his attention her, setting his phone back into his pocket.

“Yes. I did. Y/n never told you?” even through the monotone sound Adeline swore she could hear the hint of pain there. You told her Chrollo didn’t feel much, but when he did they were pretty strong emotions.

“No...” it was the only word she could think of to respond with. At first, she didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t blame you or anything, understanding that she was young and you must not have wanted to confuse her. You may have even planned to tell her now. Then the reason behind Danny’s outrage hit her like a train.

She gasped out loud, her facial expression giving her away. Chrollo’s own features formed into a visual of worry.

“What? What’s wrong?” almost as if it was his instinct. That gave her even more evidence that he was truly her father. Danny never worried about her, but any slight movement drove Chrollo to panic.

“How long until that guy gets here?”

“Already behind you baby~” a deep voice sounded from behind her. Adeline turned around but was met with a stomach instead of a head. Craning her neck up, she found an exceptionally tall man with tan skin and fluffy grey hair. He smiled down at her.

“So this is Adeline boss?” he was addressing Chrollo, who nodded in response.

“Yes, she’s just finding this out as well. Adeline, meet Uvogin.” he explained. Uvogin made a face down at the both of them.

“Wait, you’re saying y/n never told you Chrollo was your daddy?” he kneeled down to her level, she could see his level of confusion even better now. She shook her head.

“Honestly, I suspected considering that my appearance is much like that of his own. Especially in the eyes and the nose,” she turned to face Chrollo who was also watching her, “and I looked nothing like Dan either.” she explained, finding herself being rather analytical. It wasn’t unlike her, as she grew she came to terms with the fact that she enjoyed learning and finding out new things. You always told her that she was intelligent. Uvogin laughed though, standing back up all the way.

“Damn boss she even sounds like you. It’s adorable. Anyway, where do you want me to put this thing? I assume this is Danny?” Uvogin wrapped his hand around the corpse’s waist, throwing it over his shoulder. The sight made Adeline sick and she doubled over again, nearly throwing up. Chrollo was at her side in an instant, holding on to her to make sure she didn’t fall.

“Sorry babe, I forgot you’re not used to that.” Uvogin turned his head away in apology. Adeline raised her hand to signal that he was fine but didn’t turn around for another minute or so, Chrollo soothing her the whole time. She felt dizzy when she met Uvogin’s eyes. The little names her called her were of some comfort, considering this must have been Chrollo’s–her father’s–friend. 

“Well, I’ll just take it with me so you two can have your moment or whatever. Tell her everything.” Uvogin sent a finger gun Chrollo’s way and sprinted off, leaving the Chrollo and Adeline alone. She was felt slightly perturbed by Uvogin’s absences, it was so quick.

And tell her everything is just what Chrollo did.

Chrollo told her about how he made you leave in an effort to keep you safe. He told her about his background, about the troupe, about you. About how much he missed you. About how badly he wanted to see Adeline born but he couldn’t because he was too far out. Adeline didn’t interrupt with anything, though she still had so many questions, but he kept going. He must have wanted to enforce as much trust in her as he could. It was working.

“I’m sorry for not being there and I’m even more apologetic for driving your mother away, it was for her safety...” his eyes never left hers.

“I understand, and mom does too. She was just upset.” Adeline accepted this apology even though she felt like he shouldn’t even be apologizing. It wasn’t his fault. He was just trying to protect you the best way he could think of. Chrollo let out a breath she didn’t know he was holding.

“Now, please, explain to me why you killed Danny?” there was no filter. It made Adeline’s stomach churn at the thought, the feeling of the house key tearing through his skin. She took a deep breath.

“I think mom was going to explain everything to me,” her voice had become shaky. She sat on the ground and curled into herself to gain some comfort as Chrollo followed, an arm draping over her shoulders and keeping her close, “and I think Danny somehow found out... and got upset about it. He liked when I called him ‘daddy’ almost in a like sexual way...” she tried to explain without crying but the word was almost triggering. She hated the way he’d make her use it. He become irrationally upset with her if she called him dad instead of daddy. It was disgusting...

“And I don’t know why... I think he... he just...” she was desperately trying to think of her next words. What could she say next? How should this all go? Chrollo was patient with her the whole time, never getting upset with her or scoffing. He just listened. She was so confused on everything that had just happened and the fact that it all happened so quickly.

“I don’t know, all I remember was that mom said she was going to talk to me and then I went in my room for like 5 minutes and then I heard her screaming,” she sniffled, not able to hold back her tears again. Her head fell into her knees for a few minutes before coming back up to take a deep breath, “and a loud bang against the-the counter. Dan was yelling at her about something, I can’t remember. So I went down to see her and make sure he didn’t hit her like I thought he did, but he did. Chrollo he hurt her...” Adeline was full on sobbing again, feeling another round of bile ease it’s way into her mouth. Chrollo’s grip on her tightened and he rocked her, letting one of his hands rub her arm. She laid her head on his shoulder and he rested his chin on her temple.

“Is she okay now?”

“I don’t know. She told me to just go and get help but instead I got upset and threw the pan she was cooking with at him. Obviously he got mad and started chasing me, so I tried to defend myself as best I could and-”

“It’s okay, I understand. It’s alright...” he continued his motions, keeping her at bay from breaking.

“Do you think you can take me to y/n?” Chrollo asked after Adeline had calmed down. She nodded, standing again.

“Yeah, I wanna make sure she’s okay after all of that. He didn’t get to hurt her too bad that I knew of.” she wiped the tears away with her hand, searching for her jacket somewhere. She found it next to a bush along with her bloody house key. Picking both items up she led Chrollo home, hoping to find you there, okay and at the very least, resting.

[uweiy]

Can you do Xingchen with Sentence 38?

Soooo I’m assuming you meant Xicheng ?? If you meant Xiao Xingchen just tell me I’ll try to think of smth with him !

From this prompt list

38 - “You just feel really good. Soft and warm…”

His head is throbbing.

Lan Xichen squints his eyes, tring to bring his blurry vision back in focus.

He doesn’t know where he– wait. This luminous square, no, window, surrounded by curtains, seems familiar. He is lying on a red sofa covered by a blanket.A basin and a glass of water are waiting on the table next to him.

This is his home.

He has no idea how he got back. And he has no clothes on, save for a pair of briefs.

What in the world happened last night ?

“Did you just swear ?”

Lan Xichen’s muddled mind stutters.

1. He had no idea he had spoken out loud.

2. Jiang Cheng is here. Why is Jiang Cheng here, shirtless and freshly showered, holding a cup of tea. The hot water must’ve brought out the veins running along his forerarms, and his hair is mussed and Lan Xichen is dying.

He hasn’t gotten his composure and his manners back yet and looking like this is just unfair.

Jiang Chengs’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, as if reading his mind.

“There is a basin next to your sofa because you kept throwing up. You’re on your sofa because at least I could watch stuff while I kept an eye on you.

“As for why I’m here and what happened last night well…” Jiang Cheng trails off.

Lan Xichen swallows.

Jiang Cheng continues “… Are you sure you want to know ?”

Lan Xichen nods.

Jiang Cheng sighs and pulls out his phone. “I did warn you.”

The video is low quality but Lan Xichen can recognize the people on it.

“my head is so heavyy …

He sees himself giggle.

“If it’s so heavy, why don’t you let someone else carry it ?” The voice holding the phone says.

Probably Wei Wuxian.

“Ooh good idea !”

And Lan Xichen in the video drops down on the floor.

Present Lan Xichen is mortified. But the video goes on and he hears himself speak.

“Ooh Jiang Cheng … You just feel really good… Soft and warmmmm.”

The camera turns to Jiang Cheng who is looking exasperated. “That. Lan Xichen, is Fairy.”

“You’re the fairy ! “Lan Xichen giggles

“Hey wanna know a secret ? I really like– ”

“Okay that’s it. stop filming you arse”. Jiang Cheng says to the camera.“

The video ends.

Jiang Cheng puts his phone back in his pocket.

"Wei Wuxian has some more, but ‘blackmailing a representative of another faculty is a once-in-a lifetime opportunity hahahaha’ he said.”

“I really can’t hold alcohol” Lan Xichen says in a small voice. “and your brother is… a…a scoundrel.”

Jiang Cheng sighs. “That’s putting it lightly. And yeah, you were pretty hammered.

"After that I decided you had had enough to drink, so I took you home. Also you were insisting that I carry you so…

"Then on the way to my car, you tried to dance with a street pole, and when it didn’t answer you said ‘sorry for bothering you sir’ and almost started crying.”

“Oh my” Lan Xichen says. He had thought this couldn’t get any worse.

“And THEN when we got here, you threw up. On my shirt.” Jiang Cheng sounds positively pissed “ So yes, I used your shower.”

Then the murderous glance disappears and Jiang Cheng finishes matter of factly

“So I took off your clothes so you wouldn’t puke all over them, put you on the sofa, basin, glass of water, and voilà.”

Lan Xichen wishes the floor would swallow him up whole. But he has to ask

“So we didn't–”

“No you idiot, have you seen the state you were in ? Of course we didn’t DO anything.”

“Did I… Did I say something ?” Lan Xichen presses on.

Jiang Wanyin looks at him flatly. “As you just saw, you said a lot of things. What else would you have said ?”

Well that’s a relief.

Lan Xichen slumps back against his pillow. “Nevermind. Thank you for bringing me home.”

Jiang Cheng nods"You should be thankful we had so many gatherings for the student committee I won’t ever be able to forget where you live.

“Since you seem alright now I’ll get going. I have a T-shirt to wash.” He adds.

“Take one of mine.” Lan Xichen says before he can think, because he’s absolutely positive the sight of Jiang Cheng in one of his shirts would kill him. “It’s the least I can do to repay you.”

Jiang Cheng considers it.

“Okay.”

___

Wei Wuxian calls out to him when they run into each other at University.

“Heyy, class president, did you and my dear little brother sort things out ?”

Lan Xichen’s brows furrow in confusion. “I thanked him for bringing me home.”

“So he didn’t tell you ? You said some pretty … Meaningful things.”

Lan Xichen’s blood runs cold.

Wei Wuxian sighs “He’s going to murder me.”

“Oh well.” Wei Wuxian shrugs, resigned “Jiang Cheng said you told him you liked him and tried to kiss him like, multiple times.”

“Oh.” Lan Xichen manages to articulate, despite the knot in his throat.

“But it seems like he hasn’t gotten the memo.” Wei Wuxian adds. His gaze bores into Lan Xichen’s.

“So man up and tell him properly, Lan Xichen.”

___

“Here’s your Tee.” Jiang Cheng says as he stands by Lan Xichen’s doorframe. “Try to be easier to find at Uni, I had to drive all the way over here. ”

“I’ll… Try ?” Lan Xichen answers. Not very eloquent, but the visit caught him by surprise.

“Goodnight then.” Jiang Cheng says as he turns on his heels.

“Wait !” Lan Xichen just has the time to grab Jiang Cheng’s wrist.

“I’m sorry for… what I said the other night. When I was… When I was drunk.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widen and he clenches his fist “That little– I am going to have a word with him.”

Then Jiang Cheng pinches his eyebrows. “Look, I know you were drunk, and I was there and It was convenient. I won’t hold it against you. Good Night.”

“Please wait. Jiang Wanyin.”

That Jiang Cheng could believe Lan Xichen would have said that to just anyone, that he would use Jiang Cheng in such a way makes Lan Xichen’s stomach churn with revulsion.

He can’t let Jiang Cheng believe this one second longer. Even if it involves losing him.

“I meant it when I told you I liked you.”

Jiang Cheng instantly grabs Lan Xichen by the collar. “Don’t. fuck with me.” He snarls. But his voice is strangled.

“I’m not.”

“You said you’re fucking sorry. What are you sorry for if not for telling me… that, and not meaning it.”

This is horribly horribly wrong, Lan Xichen thinks. How can Jiang Cheng be so unaware of his own worth he can’t believe someone genuinely likes him.

Lan Xichen gently wraps his hand over Jiang Chengs’s clenched fist.

“I was sorry for possibly making you uncomfortable. I was sorry that I told you this way. And now I’m sorry this is what you were thinking all along. ”

Jiang Cheng shook his head. “You were drunk. There were a lot of people you could have–”

“And yet I didn’t tell any of them, I told you.” Lan Xichen insists. “Alcohol doesn’t make me … horny, it makes me honest.”

Jiang Cheng exhales sharply.

Lan Xichen needs him to understand. Needs with every fiber of his being. So he continues.

“There is no one else I wish to eat with at lunch. There is no one else with whom I turn meetings into movie nights. There is no one else I would tell ”I like you“ to. ”

Jiang Cheng’s fist finally loosens.

“You… Like me ?” He says, disbelieving.

“Yes.” Lan Xichen repeats.

“You –!” there was the fist again and Jiang Cheng sounds furious. He is going to walk away, Lan Xichen thinks. Walk away and never come back.

Instead, Jiang Cheng’s head hits Lan Xichen’s chest and he murmurs

“Do you know how hard I… I tried to stay away because I thought… ” His voice breaks “I thought I couldn’t have you.”

Oh, Lan Xichen thinks. Oh.

He doesn’t know what to say, but he has one last thing to confess.

“I was avoiding you at University because I would have combusted on the spot, had I seen you in my shirt.”

Jiang Cheng lets out something like a a half-laugh, half-sob.

Lan Xichen tilts Jiang Cheng’s head up. “I’m going to kiss you now, If that’s alright with you.”

Jiang Cheng’s voice is thick when he answers

“Okay.”

Lan Xichen inches closer and, very softly presses his lips to Jiang Cheng’s. His hand slides to the back of Jiang Cheng’s neck as he increases the pressure, capturing Jiang Cheng’s top lip.

A needy moan escapes Jiang Cheng’s lips and Lan Xichen takes advantage of the slight opening of his mouth to deepen the kiss.

When they break apart, they stare at each other, breathless.

“Would you mind pursuing this inside, I have a couch much more comfortable than my front door.” Lan Xichen suggests.

“wouldn’t you know.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “But sure.”

___

“So,” Lan Xichen starts, as they are comfortably sprawled against each other on the couch “you’re still as ’,soft and warm’ as I recall– ”

Jiang Cheng elbows him “please do not confuse me with a fucking dog.”

Then he gets up and Lan Xichen misses the contact immensely.

Jiang Cheng comes out of the shower wearing a pair of briefs and Lan Xichen’s sweater and Lan Xichen’s heart just jumps our of his chest.

This is definitely vengeance. He’s not that pained.

A.N : I just watched Fullmetal Alchemist so my characterisation is all over the place. Ed kept popping in my head at random moments but ehh

I don’t know how universities work so hope the depiction of the student body elements isn’t too out of place hahaha

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

7 Days to Die - Part 2

Fever

Pairing: Implied Jensen x reader

Warnings: character death! Sadness, reader comforting Jensen, is death angsty? IDK, beware of any possible angst. SPN Level gore.

Word Count: 1,201

Summary: After joining Jensen and Jared’s company, Y/N gets used to the safety and company of others. But things go from bad to worse…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

A/N: Easter Egg, Anime viewers: High school of the Dead. “I want to stay myself, until the end.”

~

Sun was high in the sky, indicating it was noon. Three rumbling stomachs indicated as much.

They stopped on the side of the now gravel road to snack down on some granola bars.

“Jared are you okay buddy?” Jensen asked as he munched down on his bar. “You’re looking pale.” He adds.

“I’m fine, think maybe it’s starting to get to me, the stress and whatnot.” He says.

“You sure Jare, we can always stop and rest up.” Jensen asked.

“I’m sure Jay, I don’t want us to slow down because of me. I want to get home.” he says.

Jensen silently agrees.

“So what’s your camp like?” Y/N asked.

“Well, its like a small city considering it’s everyone from set and their families that made it.” Jensen said. “Some people just learned skills as they went along, like Misha, he’s a medic. Chuck, he’s doing inventory on trades and scavenges, and even prepares for said hunts.” He explained.

“Benny is head of security, well both him and Jensen here.” Jared said.

“What about you Jared?” She asked.

“I’m in charge of most scavenges, to lighten the load for Chuck.” Jared said.

She was the first to finish her granola bar, Jensen soon after. But Jared hardly touched his.

“Dude, you sure you okay?” Jensen growing concerned.

“I’m fine, just not hungry is all.” Jared said, saving the bar for later.

 Their day was about to draw to a close, the sun was just about to set.

“Are we close to another hold out?” Y/N asked.

“It’s just up this road here.” Jensen says.

Jensen was in the lead, and Y/N wasn’t far behind. But he heard the definite thud of something hard hitting the ground. He turns to see Jared collapsed behind Y/N.

“Jared!” He alerted.

Y/N turned to see Jared unconscious. She is first to his side, places a careful hand on his head.

“Holy shit, he’s burning up.” She exclaimed.

“We need to get him to the hold out now.” Jensen says, grabbing Jared’s arm. Pulling him to his feet and they walked to another cabin, much bigger than the last one.

 After they laid him down, moments later he’s awake, aware and writhing in pain.

Jensen not once leaving his side.

Placing a cold rag on Jared’s head trying to keep him cool.

Jared turned to his side throwing up whatever in his stomach, mixed with blood.

“It hurts Jay!” Jared writhed.

“I know, it’s okay man, I’ll take care of you.”  Jensen says.

Y/N stuck by, checking Jared if he got bit. Seeing a wrapped up bandage on his leg, that is now discolored. Looking dead, black, grey and some yellow and purple.

“Jensen, look.” Y/N says. Sounding scared.

“What the…” Jensen says, getting up looking at the leg.

“One of them scratched him, I know it. The last place I was at, the guy that was with me on a supply run was attacked. He wasn’t bit but he had a scratch on his neck. He had a nasty fever, no appetite, god, why didn’t I notice before.” She began. Cursing herself she knew the signs, but didn’t think anything of it.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know. Jared’s good at hiding this sort of thing.” Jensen says, trying to help her not beat herself up.

Jared writhed more, violently. Shouting and yelling in pain.

“It hurts!” he shouted.

Jensen tries to hold him down by the shoulders, to keep him in bed as best as he could.

“I know buddy, but we’re gonna help you before it get’s worse okay, promise.” Jensen says, trying to soothe his best friend.

“I’m gonna die, I know it.” Jared chokes out, before coughing up blood. Turning to his side, even puking some blood in the process.

“No, don’t say that, we’re gonna help you.” Jensen says.

“Jay face it,” Jared says, a little more calmer and collected. But his face distorted in pain. “A walker scratched me, it’s worse than being bit.” He says.

Jensen didn’t want to believe it. He turns, looking away to collect himself as best as he could.

“I’m sorry brother, but my story ends here.” Jared says. “But I got to ask you two a favor, please,” he begins.

Jensen shakes his head. Knowing what he’s about to ask.

“Please, Jay, I know it’ll be tough. But I don’t want to be one of those things. I don’t want to walk around and hurt people. I want to stay myself, until the end.” He says.

In a beat, Jared is in so much pain he falls out of bed, writhing, gripping his sides. Yelling and shouting.

Jensen couldn’t do anything as he tried to soothe his friend who was now dying on the floor.

“I can’t, Jared!” he shouted over Jared. “I can’t!” he shouts. As Jared yelled out his final pained yell.

Y/N, behind Jensen, who saw all of this unfold, falls to her knees.

“It was just a scratch, how did it get so horrible?” she asked, voice sounding like she’s in a catatonic state.

“I can’t.” Jensen whispers.

His head hung low as he mourns his friends death.

Y/N stands, walks over to Jensen’s side. Places a comforting hand on his shoulder, kneeling next to him. He placed his hand over hers. Accepting her affection.

They noticed his arm twitched.

“He’s…” Y/N says.

Jensen jumped into action, taking Y/N in his arms, he moves her away from Jared.

Jared stands, slumped, and undead. It’s clear, Jensen doesn’t want to see Jared hurt or kill anyone.

Moving from Y/N, with her standing behind him. Jensen grabs the gun from his waistband at his side.

“I’m sorry buddy.” He says quietly. Turning the safety off, he cocks it ready. Jared starts to slowly walk toward them. Growling, hungry. “I’ll see you on the other side. Brother.” He says.

Lifting the gun, aiming it high. Firing one bullet, hitting Jared square between the eyes. Jared dropping dead before he could hurt them.

 They stood outside the cabin, watching the flames take Jared’s body.

The sun began to rise as they walked on the gravel path quietly. No words exchanged. Not even when they stopped midday for their lunch snack.

They neared a cabin once night fell. Jensen got the fire going in the fireplace in the living room.

Y/N entered the living from the hallway where the bathroom was. Having washed her hair out as best she could, and her skin. She can see he was not having a good time.

He stayed knelt by the fireplace. She walks quietly over to him, placing a comforting hand on him once again. Even wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders, and the comforting hand on his bicep.

He fights her affection, not wanting to cry in front of her. Not wanting to show a weakness. But she too was fighting sobs that tore at her throat.

“I know Jay.” She says. The sound of her fighting her sobs broke him. And he turned into her embrace.

“I know,” she says. As she held him, letting him cry it out. “I’m, so sorry.” She whispers.

One little scratch, just gone from bad to worse.

~

Keep the feedback coming, What do you think? Comment or ask to let me know what you think so far. :)

~

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