#ghost kiddos still means gore right?

[shi-daisy]

The Last Evergreen Heir

Hello everyone! We start the week for best book boy today and I am ready to bring feels. Here's a lil fic of Tamlin's eldest brother seeing snipets of his reign. (Follows A Court of Threads & Daisies continuity) Hope you like!

@tamlinweek

Tamlin Week 2024- Day 1- Heir of Spring

The Last Evergreen Heir

"If you end up getting high from eating those tulips I'm blaming Ciaran." Dorevan said as he held baby Tamlin.

The giggly baby had eaten more than half the garden, as his tiny hands were faster than Dorevan's adult ones. Still, as he looked back Tamlin had used his magic to make the flowers bloom again after her ate them.

"That's a lot of a magic for a tiny child like you...Does this mean you shall be heir?!"

Tamlin didn't respond he just tilted his head as the loud question and coed, reaching for Dorevan's face.

His eldest brother rolled his eyes. "Don't even think about it kiddo. It's between me and Cece, and I don't intend to lose the court to the stoner or to you, flower eater. I've been here longest and dealt with father before either of you were born. I'm the heir, do well to remember!"

But Tamlin didn't remember, because he was just a baby who didn't see a man lecturing him, or at least attempting to, he just saw his eldest brother carrying him back to the manor.

***

He'd said it, been cruel about it, drilled into the youth's head that he was not to threatening his claim.

It didn't matter. By process of elimination Tamlin Evergreen was now High Lord of Spring.

He could see his body as a ghost, he died reaching for his father who was but a spalt of gore on the wall. Rosabella was still on the bed with the life choked out of her, while Ciaran was slumped against the bed, trying to comfort Tamlin before he too joined them in death.

He knew the pair reconciled today, mere hours before Night came to them and slaughtered everyone in revenge. Dorevan tried to place his hand on Tamlin's shoulder as he cried for his other brother. Neither deserved the tears, but when had that ever stopped the musician from giving them all undeserved love?

"No more tears, you're the heir. It's time to toughen up! You'll do well...You'll do better than either of us..."

***

He'd been right, for Spring bloomed under the rule of the unexpected High Lord.

Dorevan remained a ghost while his parents and brother reincarnated. He decided to stick around and see what Tamlin would do as a ruler, someone had to tell him he did a good job, even if he couldn't hear it.

The flowers bloomed, the court was paradise, the people loved him and Tamlin remained ever humble and sentimental. He was indeed the best out of them.

'If only I'd seen it sooner, and been a better brother.'

Lamenting would do nothing now, but he did stand beside the throne and smiled, placing his hand upon Tamlin's head. "I'm so proud of you, I know mother would be too."

Tamlin's emerald eyes darted around the room, as if he'd heard him...

***

His baby brother wept again as another sentry was lost. Lucien held him in his arms while the pair kneeled on the floor, the other soldiers present grieved by his side, still none of them refused their duty. They never would, not with this High Lord.

Amarantha had cursed him...Bloody wench always gave the impression she'd be trouble, Dorevan just didn't think she'd be this much!

"Falling for a fae hating human...pity we can't make Jurian turn back from the ring, he's your type...Maybe I shouldn't be joking around."

Dorevan remained with Tamlin until he fell asleep in tears. The man tried to be though, well not tried, he was though.

"If I was in your position right now I would've jumped off the roof...You're a though cookie Tam. Let it out, they'll understand. I know you'll make it. You're a good High Lord.

***

Andras was with him when his brother brought the girl, and throught their cute romance that resulted in the broken curse and the restoration of Spring.

But just as he thought Tamlin got his happy ending and he could leave...the cursebreaker became a cursebringer tearing down the court that had been unwavering for milenia.

Oisin would be furious, Ciaran disapointed...Rosabella might understand but then again their mother was a saint and a sensitive sould.

Dorevan just broke, upon seeing the once proud ruler of Spring become but a beast swallowed by pain as he court emptied and left him tot he decay.

"We can't help him. Dore, we need to trust him. He'll rise again."

Dorevan wasn't so sure, he knew how frail his baby brother's heart was. He just hoped in time Tamlin would heal and recover, making the court bloom again as only he could.

"Don't worry, little one. We will look over you, until you rise again."

***

He wouldn't, not as High Lord of Spring or Evergreen Heir. Tamlin was now a civillian of Spring, after his wrists spilled crimson and he nearly joined him and the other ghosts of the manor.

Dorevan thanked Lucien a thousand times for saving his baby brother, but he hadn't been able to save his power.

"So, Tamarand shall be heir now?" He asked Daphne as they waited in the foyer with the other ghosts.

"I suppose so. Don't worry, he'll have Tamlin to guide him, he shall be good."

"I don't doubt that...I'm just saddened at the end of the Evergreen dynasty. This isn't how Tam would've wanted it to go."

It had been a shock, to meet a half sister in the afterlife and find out he had triplet half siblings. The two living ones were probably heading to the manor now, with the new Heir of Spring.

Still, even if he trusted things would work in the end, Dorevan's eyes couldn't be pried from Tamlin and Lucien. They seemed to think the same as him.

Tamlin is heir no more.

***

Though one could argue it didn't matter. That he was able to shine far brighter and work much better with another man as heir. Tamlin had carried the weight of the crown better than any man in his position could and now he was helping another be better than him, wiser than him, maybe even more beloved than him.

No, no that last one was debatable. Tamarand was an exemplary man, and he'd be a great High Lord. But all of Spring reveared and still adored one Tamlin Evergreen.

He'd been pulled back to life by Rhysand, just an experiment, a way to torment him and his baby brother more, but Rhysand didn't know that his own wife and cousin were on their side, and that between them all they'd put an end to his cursed reign and his circle.

He had the honor of fighting alongside Tamlin, and seeing how the little baby he once held had become a fierce warrior that helped snuff away the Night.

When the battle was over and he went back to Spring his with his family Dorevan had been able to see a court blooming beautifully. It was better than what Oisin could've done, better than what he or Ciaran could've done, it was perfection, achieved by the youngest and kept by their half brother. Truly the ending they deserved.

Dorevan walked the same gardens he did as when they were young. Tamlin was no longer a baby, and thankfully he didn't eat the tulips but rather he helped them bloom.

"You better not eat that or I'll blame Cece."

The youngest Evergreen chuckled. "Can't, he isn't here..."

"Yeah. I miss him, but I am happy to be back, and even happier to see you still standing here. I'll make up for lost time, and I'll be a better brother, I promise."

Tamlin leaned on his shoulders. "Thank you. I'm happy to have you back."

"There's something I don't regret though. Something I stand by even after centuries in the afterlife."

"What's that?"

"You were the best out of us three and I'm so very proud of you Tamlin. You let our dynasty go out on a high note."

Just like he did as a baby, Tamlin smiled with teary emerald eyes and a sense of pride.

"It was an honor to have been heir of Spring."

[cr-scribbles]

I need to go to school really soon, but that won’t stop me from posting the third chapter review which is going to be right now because I got them all down and just need to copy and paste them over to here!

This chapter was something I was hesitating more on for a while because personally I didn’t know that I would be talking about it that much, but then I did?? like a lot?? sO WOO

Like usual, here’s the link to the comic itself if you want to read it!! I highly suggest doing so because it’s really good and i love them sm,,, > http://children-rekindled.top/?c=1&p=1

And also the two other reviews I did which I suggest checking out if you haven’t already!

> https://cr-incorrect-quotes.tumblr.com/post/190279246139/cr-incorrect-quotes-hello-welcome-to-my-first

> https://cr-incorrect-quotes.tumblr.com/post/190281892974/cr-incorrect-quotes-oh-no-whats-this-its

When jumping right into it with this, we already know that unlike before, we're going to be getting more perspective!! Which means more sadness bECAUSE OH GOD I FEEL SO BAD FOR THESE POOR PARENTS THAT ARE JUST TRYING TO LOOK FOR THEIR CHILDREN EVEN IF THEY'RE ALL DEAD

AHAHA SHE REALLY WENT "B O I-"

The denial that is shown really hurts me internally. It just doesn't feel right knowing that any amount of search they try will get them nowhere because their children never ran away. They didn't refuse to come home. if anything they would much rather want to come home than be stuck at Freddy's where they are dead.

the panic finally starts to set in because everyone is realizing 'wait our children are actually missing'. Little do they know that they didn't even want to go-

I'm still surprised there hasn't been a runaway au where the kids just ran away from home instead of dying. I don't know their reason for doing this. No one really wanted to leave their parents behind I think so?? Poor babeys,,

this is where I started sobbing beCAUSE DANIEL HAS A SISTER?? A LITTLE ONE TOO?? OH THAT JUST ADDS ONTO THE SADNESS SO MUCH

He will now never be able to grow up with her or even see her grow up,,if they were missing, there would still be a chance for them to come back, but nah. There is no way of them coming back from this. Once they are free, they are just going to gone, leaving everyone else beHIND AND GOD I FEEL SO BAD FOR DANIEL BECAUSE WHAT IF HE JUST WANTS TO SAY GOODBYE TO EVERYONE?? OR BE THERE FOR HIS SISTER??

THEY'RE NOT COMING BACKKKK

I really just want to hug everyone in this comic apart from the murderer!! It really shows how if someone dies/is murdered, the people they were close to get effected too. Don't die y'all.

AH I LOVE THIS TRANSITION

Honestly though it was a really good way to go back to where they were ghosts!! The blood coming from the eyes in the picture just going right to the scared babey makes me sOB

ah I want to hug him sm

Poor boyo just wants to make sure his sister is ok,,I would be sad too if I was suddenly taken away from my own life and am now unable to even say goodbye or be there for someone who I really cared about!! His pain is really understandable here.

Daniel really needs another hug at this point because he looks so sad over this. He looks as though he is basically on the verge of tears again and that just breaks my heart.

BIANCA HELPS MAKE DANIEL FEEL BETTER AND WOW THAT HIT HE HARDER THAN I SHOULD HAVE

Is this the ship content we're getting this time? I'm glad because it's been really cute so far!! Just Bianca helping out this smol blind boyo makes me so sad yet happy because I know they have eachother for support if needed!!

lots of things in here that I could mention, but the one thing I do want to point out is bRIAN AND KENNY AAAAA THEY'RE STILL AROUND IN THIS CHAPTER AND IM REALLY HAPPY ABOUT THAT

I really wanted to see Lily and John here since we saw them last time in the redrawn version, but hey this is still fine as well!!! We got to see the cup die for the 3rd time?? That's so sad,,,,

y'all the sign said no yelling?? Why are all these kids yelling?? that's against the rules wtf,,

Wow it must feel weird just having to watch all of these kids around having fun while you're heckieing dead. Like Bianca said, they were once there before, but now they're not. How quick things could change really shows here and it makes me qwq,,no one knows all of this horrible stuff had happened while they think "oh yeah this place is a happy place!!! Nothing wrong here!!"

Also Bianca trying to stay positive just gives me more of a reason to call her a favorite?? She's really trying her best to get through this positively even though they are heckieing dead and honestly that would take so much courage so congrats to her!!!

ok so it's confirmed that Charlie still has that 'don't touch me' thing!! We just didn't see it before so I was unsure if they kept it in or not, but I'm sure they had to if they wanted to make it accurate to how she really would feel-

Edit :: hey shout out to the time I thought the fucking background was a hand. I feel like a dumbass everyday of my life, but I feel like this is the worse. No wonder Bon didn't tell me, were you just waiting for me to realize? I'm sure you were laughing 😭

OH NO BIANCAAA,,,,

Poor girl,,her positivity went down right when realizing how hard this is actually going to be and that broke my heart. She just wants to help her friends and now she can't even touch Charlie?? This is not going to be a good time for her and she knows that for sure. She needs all the hugs please I'm begging-

ALSO BON THREW IN REFERENCES TO THE ORIGINAL COMIC AND I SOBBED AHAHXJSOV IT'S THE OLD DESIGNS YESS

Oh boy two background characters want to find out what's going on!! I'm glad some background characters actually have a role now since that really changes a lot in this version

Also yEAH THAT'S NOT TOMATO SAUCE U DUMB HECKIES DO YOU NOT SEE THE FACES OF THE MURDERED

AAAAA LOOK!!!! ME AND ERIC ARE FAMOUS!!! WE GOT OUR KIDDOS INTO CR!!!  WE DID GOOD!!!!

If you didn't know, before me and Eric changed our story to more of an original thing, we had a FNAF comic!! Or at least we were going to. We stopped it before we even got past 3 pages because of how slow it was going. Now we got a different story that I'm actually drawing this time! Same characters and all too!

When we were still making the FNAF comic, we put in Bon's characters as background characters so he returned the favor and put two of our kiddos there(?l We're still keeping his characters in the comic we are now making, but they have more of a role!! I love them,,

gOD I LOVE FRANCIS SO MUCH AHAHCIAOFIW

His reaction to all of this is so great because he is just a big angry boy that wants to get this over with and I love that a lot. He's been bringing himself up to a favorite for a while now and this really got me well, but so did the ending?? The ending got me harder honestly.

I LOVE SAMMY'S POSE SO MUCH AHAHAIFAHAUDAI

Sammy's personality has already changed,,,right?? He wasn't like this before if I remember correctly,,before he was at least more helping. I'm glad my headcanons that Francis and Sammy don't really get along are correct though!! God I love how my incorrect quotes turned into correct quotes when Francis called Sammy a shorty-

SAMMY IS HIDING SOMETHINGGGGG

I love how Sammy just called out Francis even if Francis has only been there for what- a couple hours??? Nice going, Sammy! You are actually right with that one I believe?? Francis is hiding much more than he shows and god I'm so ready to see his character development through all of this

And poor Bianca!! She looks so tired unlike before when she was actually positive. Someone really needs to give this girl a hug,,I'm just glad they are actually able to chill unlike last time where they were trying to control the animatronics cause Sammy was like "yeah that totally works"

Daniel looks so squoft and cute in that picture?? Like he just went baby mode for that picture,,HE STILL IS A SQUOFT NOW, BUT SHH HE MORE BABEY HERE

Big sad though?? It would suck to hear that the children you left at this place are suddenly gone and weren't even seen at night. That would be so heartbreaking and scary?? Where would you even go? If these people can't help you, you will just need to trust in the police and let's see if they would even be able to find a ghost-

BIANCA WHY DID YOU TELL HIM IF HE CAN'T SEE AND IS ALREADY REALLY EMOTIONAL-

I’m sure she was trying to help by showing that his parents really did come to look for him!! She wouldn't have thought he would go crazy,,,it really makes me wonder if she would do the same thing if her parents were there. Does she have more self control enough to stop herself?

DANIEL GOES CRAZY AND GOD THIS MADE ME SO SAD,,HE REALLY JUST WANTS TO SAY SOMETHING TO HIS PARENTS QWQ

He is trying his best y'all,,he just wants to see them again, but babey I don't think you'll even be able to do that if you could considering uhh- you can't see-

gOD THAT MAKES ME EVEN MORE SAD

Do you think that after the curtains close, Bianca has to calm Daniel down because he really wants to go see them again?? My headcanon is yeah that's what happened. Once the animatronics were turned on, Daniel just started breaking down again because he failed at getting the chance to even see his parents. He had messed everything up. Bianca would just pull him into a hug again to try to calm him down and just,,be there as a support. It probably hurts her to see him so emotional too. I really wanna make a short story on this noW AA!!

anyways!! That is the first part! I will be putting out the next part eventually and then we will just have to wait till Bon finishes the fourth chapter for me to make another review.

Oh god I'll have a lot to talk about next time AHAHFOAKG

Have a great day and remember to cry over kiddos.

[rosedorada]

PEACE AND WAR

prologue (masterlist found HERE)

simon “ghost” riley x (fem) reader

lowercase intended // warnings : cursing, gore, normal cod stuff

wc : 521

i grabbed my car keys and raced out of my house, my brother needed to be picked up from the airport. he had just gotten off of deployment and my dad said ‘it’s the least i could do’.

“your brothers flight landed 5 minutes ago, you’re close to losing your car.” my dad grumbles from the sofa, with his nose in a newspaper.

“sorry, dad.” i roll my eyes and walk to my car.

-

“hey, kiddo! i haven’t seen you in awhile.” my brother runs up to hug me, the scratchy marine corps uniform rubbing up against my face.

“i missed you too.” i hug him back, i haven’t seen him since 2016. when he was deployed back to the middle east for a pointless war.

“so, what’s up with the family? you can obviously drive now, what about-“

“so, mitchell is in college now. hes at app state in north carolina. and then, micah got married like… last year? i wanna say.” i kept my eyes on the road, but my brother could tell by my voice i wasn’t amused. “and i am still living at home, at the age of 20.” i sigh.

“hey, i mean it’s not bad. dad said you were working for the c.i.a the last time i called him.” my brother grabs my water and drinks it.

“gross, first of all. blake, be so for real right now. why would i be in the c.i.a?”

“well, you have the qualities for that. maybe dad just wants you to be just like him.. or your brothers? i’m not sure.” he puts the bottle back down and lays his head on the headrest. “i mean, you’re his only daughter.”

the word ‘daughter’ made my blood boil, whenever my dad would say anything about my brothers and i, he would rave about my brothers (mainly blake, because… military.) success and then ramble about me at the end.

“true.. true..” my phone vibrates in the cup holder and my brother grabs it.

“didn’t know you talk to guys..” blake reads the message. “especially about f-“

“HEY!” i look over and snatch my phone, almost swerving off of the highway. “that’s private.” i set my phone in between my thighs and keep driving.

-

my whole family sat at the dinner table, it was completely silent except for all three of my brothers chewing.

“so, how was the flight?” my dad stops eating to look at blake.

“it was good, i missed the feeling of cold air.” my brother grabs another piece of bread.

“good… good.” my dad sits back in his chair and the wood creaks.

it was awkwardly silent, so i excused myself from the table and went into my room.

i grab the laptop from under my blankets and look up how to apply for the c.i.a - i mean they could see my search history so why not hire me?

“bingo.” i click the job application link, and it takes me to a website that probably hasn’t been touched since 2006.

if my dad wanted me to be just like my brothers, i’ll be just like my brothers.

11.1.2022 // peace and war prologue

(thank you everyone for all the love!! i really appreciate it and chapt one will be up by the end of this week <333)

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Not So Golden Opportunity (BAON)

Summary:  Usually Stretch likes getting packages in the mail, but there is always room for an exception.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The knock on the front door wasn’t much of a surprise, not when it came at delivery o’clock. Stretch always had packages coming in, everything from equipment for the lab to a new t-shirt that declared he was a ‘Karaoke King’, there was always something for their delivery person to drop off. At any given time, there was enough cardboard stored in their garage waiting to get dropped off at recycle to make one heck of a box fort, and that was on his list to do with the neighborhood kiddos one of these weekends.

So, the knock on the door? Not a surprise. What they were delivering on the other hand—

“uh, wow, thanks, marty,” Stretch said, a little dubiously. Marty let out an agreeable honk and meandered their way back to their little mail truck, leaving Stretch standing there with an enormous armful of flowers from an unknown source. Couldn’t be from Edge. Sure, he’d given flowers a few times, but Edge was more of an in-person sort of guy when it came to presents.

Welp, there was only one way to find out, wasn’t there. Time to get his Velma on and look for some clues.

Stretch carried the massive thing inside and plunked it down on the coffee table to give it a closer look. It was actually a very nice floral arrangement, even Stretch could see that and he didn’t know shit about flowers or décor. Tiny sprays of white, bell-like blooms and ferny green things surrounding several huge blooms of golden flowers, the likes of which Stretch hadn’t seen in years, not since they were Underground.

Hm. Golden flowers.

The card had Edge’s name on it, but Stretch didn’t bother sneaking a peek. Mystery solves, there was only one person who would’ve had this delivered to their door and he probably made it with his own fuzzy hands. The real question was why that asshole was having flowers sent to his husband, thank you, and the only way to find out if he needed to start making plans to yank out hunks of fur with his bare hands was to ask, with the minimum of simmering jealousy possible.

“babe?” Stretch called. Edge was in the kitchen, making preparations for their new cupboards to be installed next week. “hey, c’mere a minute!”

He’d expected Edge to be pleased, he did like his flowers, heck, maybe even excited in that adorably subdued way he had, and much as Stretch could have done without any surprise packages from Ass-gore in their house, eh, he’d deal with it if they made Edge happy.

The last thing he anticipated was for Edge to stop cold halfway out the kitchen door, the fleeting expression of disgust crossing his face quickly shifting to blankness. Edge wasn’t exactly the most emotive guy out there, but Stretch was pretty good at reading his facial version of charades and right now there wasn’t so much as a twitch of the eye socket or a curl of his mouth as he said, low, “Please put that in the garage.”

“the garage?” Stretch repeated doubtfully. He looked down at the extravagant display of floral dominance in his hands and wondered if he’d heard that right. “you sure?

“Yes, because someone might notice if you put it right into the trash.” That blankness cracked, a little, enough for Edge to snap out, “Just get it out of the damn house!”

Yeah, okay, got that message loud and clear, especially since Edge was starting to look a little glowy around the hands, like he was considering a little impromptu, and violent, floral rearranging. Stretch grabbed up the offending bouquet before it could end up as target practice and shortcutted out into the garage.

Like the rest of the house, it was neat as a pin, no oil stains on this concrete floor and all the tools neatly put away on the pegboard. In the back corner was the motorcycle, shrouded in drop cloths and waiting for Edge to be able to take it out for a spin again. Didn’t seem like putting the flowers anywhere special was part of today’s theme, so Stretch stuffed the thing into the furthest spot, away from Edge’s car so he wouldn’t have to see it when he came out on his way to work tomorrow.

Job successfully achieved, Stretch dusted off his hands and teleported back inside. Edge was already gone from the living room, no surprise there, but he hadn’t gone back to the kitchen. A quick, not-at-all-frantic search found him sitting out on the front porch and that wasn’t really a surprise, either. But the cigarette in his hand? Now that blew past surprise all the way into flabbergasted shock. Far as Stretch knew, Edge hadn’t bummed a smoke in months, his general attitude towards smoking was distaste with extreme prejudice. It took a helluva lot for him to give into the urge for a quick fix to a nicotine craving. Whatever his issues were with the flowers, whether it was the gift or the person who sent them, they were bad.

“babe?” Stretch asked, cautiously, still hovering half in the house. As worried as he was, he wouldn’t push, ready to leave if Edge wanted to be alone.

Edge only shifted the cigarette to his other hand and patted the concrete next to him in silent invitation. A little relieved, Stretch came out and sat down. He dug his own cigarette out of the crumpled pack and the two of them sat hip to hip, quietly smoking. Overhead, the sky was endless sea of deep blue broken only by the occasional streak of a puffy cloud. A nice day, too nice for the unspoken questions hanging heavily in the air, but Stretch didn’t ask them. Edge would talk when he was ready and if he never was, welp, that was fine, too. Edge wasn’t the only one who could be supportive, Stretch was more than willing to take his turn under the weight.

It wasn’t until Edge tamped out his cigarette in the ashtray Stretch kept out on the porch that he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Edge said finally. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“i think i’ll live, babe,” Stretch replied, dryly, “the wounds were superficial.” He gave Edge a gentle nudge in the side with his elbow. “you okay?”

Yeah, okay, that wasn’t pushing, thanks. Besides, it was a stupid question, because the answer was obviously going to be a ‘yes, fine’ and that’d be it.

Except that he didn’t get the obvious answer he expected.

“Not right now,” Edge said. His sockets were half-closed and instead of their yard, he seemed to be looking miles away. “I will be.” They sat in silence for a while longer, Stretch watching people walking by, waving as required and leaving Edge to his thoughts. He was lighting a second cigarette when Edge finally spoke again, softly. “Golden flowers.” The faint hitch in his voice could’ve meant nothing, if the person he was sitting with didn’t know him so well. “I haven’t seen real golden flowers in years.”

Stretch considered that. “i’m taking it they weren’t sorely missed.”

“Hm?” Crimson eye lights briefly flicked his way. “No, not at all. I hate the blasted things.”

Stretch only took a long drag and exhaled slowly, blowing a smoke ring up into that blue, blue sky. He didn’t ask or urge him to talk, simply being there if he chose to. And Edge did, slowly, as if choosing every word with care. “The only place in Underfell where golden flowers grew was the king’s chamber in New Home. My memories of that place are…not pleasant.”

Not pleasant. Yeah, like lava is a wee bit warmish or the Titanic sprung a little leak. Indisputable truths: water is wet, the sky is blue, grass is green, and any meeting with the king of all Monsters in Underfell was not pleasant.

The explanation made perfect sense, really; if Stretch’d had a minute to actually think about it instead of dividing his attention between ditching the flowers and then finding his wayward husband, he probably would have figured it out on his own. Perfect sense, yep, and that was why Stretch was torn between temptations. First, to grab Edge and hold him close, to keep him there in his arms and do whatever it took to chase away any of the mental ghosts that were creeping in, to be the protector for one damn time. And then there was the equal temptation to take that little flower arrangement on back to the source and see if he could find any handy place to stick it, because right now, he was ready to cram it so far up someone’s fuzzy buns that they’d need their dentist to help get it loose.

But Edge wouldn’t appreciate either of those options. All Stretch could do here was sit here, be here, and hope it was enough.

Stretch was so lost in his thoughts that he startled at the touch of a gloved hand as it settled gently over his bare one, sharp fingertips blunted by fabric lightly stroking his own. “He didn’t know, love. He mentioned to me in passing that he’d started working on floral arrangements again for the summer and that he’d be sending them out to Embassy employees, and I completely forgot.”

Trust Edge to know exactly what direction his thoughts were headed, right off the grid and into a little righteous revenge. Didn’t help that the things Stretch wanted to say to that excuse weren’t exactly helpful. Things like, Asgore should have been able to guess, homey reminders were only good for people who actually liked their past home, and maybe a reminder to pay some fucking attention to anything besides his own personal popularity contest was in order. Or how about suggestion for a visit to emphasis the whole ‘we don’t send my husband any gifts without pre-approval, asshole’.

None of those options were actually useful and either might actually get him banned from the Embassy this time, so Stretch kept ‘em to himself and only said, “i know.”

Then he let out a squawk as that gentle touch on his hand turned into a firm grip around his wrist and he was abruptly yanked over into Edge’s lap. He barely managed to put out his cigarette before it landed anywhere unpleasant. It took a little creative, and occasionally blatant, wriggling to get situated but in the end, he was settled across Edge’s femurs and snuggled in. His own hands were perfectly G-rated, Edge’s only slightly less so but it wasn’t like anyone on the street could see the hand he’d slipped under Stretch’s sweatshirt and settled over his sternum, right where his soul would manifest if he summoned it. Neither of them did, not yet, not out here in front of the broad daylight and the neighbors. The barest suggestion was enough for right now.

“I’m all right,” Edge murmured, and the warmth of his breath against the curve of his jaw was a tempting distraction. But Stretch wasn’t gonna forget to hand over a carefully selected piece of his mind to Asgore the next time he saw him.

Next time fuzzy ass wanted to send a present, he could stick with a gift card.

-finis

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 8: Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back

summary: finding shelter in an abandoned home, you try to keep your wits about you and care for the still unconscious Joel until some trouble comes knocking

word count: 3,792

content warnings: mention of gore and impromptu medical care, more canon-typical violence, death, murder, arrival of.... cannibals, y'know the deal hurt/comfort

notes: i didn't mention it last time but yeah, your shit really can kill you if you get your lower intestines punctured lol it's a real thing and gnarly af

read on ao3 / masterlist

You woke up in a start. Heavy breaths taking hold in your lungs. The small, barely considerable amounts of sleep were getting to you as they had been for the last month as more and more night terrors racked your brain. Rubbing at your eyes, you pushed yourself up to begin your usual routine.

It had been a couple weeks since your little group found yet another abandoned home and it took some hell of maneuvering to get Joel into the basement but it worked. The winter snow was coming in full force and it was peritive you all kept Joel as warm as possible, there were too many odds stacked against him.

Walking over to his prone body, you checked on his wounds once more as you did practically every couple of hours. He was looking worse for wear, even changing out the gauze could only do so much. Whatever small amounts of clean water the three of you had went to cleaning it out, hoping to stave off the infection.

Joel was, by all means, not doing well.

To top it off, even with your meager amount of medic training from your days with FEDRA could never prepare you for the long-term haul you were in with Joel, he was dying. The bastard was dying and you couldn’t help but feel it was your fault.

Night after night you were haunted by the image of him falling off that balcony, the sounds of his groans of pain still lingered in your head even when you were awake. It fucking sucked.

He was asleep now, he barely woke up since everything went to shit at the university then at the mall. That in and of itself felt like a lifetime ago. You put a hand against his forehead, feeling how his fever still hadn’t broken. With the chill in the air as winter was fully settling in making your fingers cold as ice, he didn’t even flinch away. You closed your eyes and sighed, still not wanting to give up. Not for Ellie, not for Tommy, not even for the grumpy man himself.

A quick glance out the small basement window told you it was nearing dusk which startled you. Ellie had left when the sun was at its peak, sometime around noon, surely. She had been gone much much longer than she normally would have.

Usually it was you who left to go hunting for food once your supplies dwindled but Ellie wanted to help relieve the burden from your shoulders and you reluctantly agreed. Yo hated to admit you needed a break. She had argued she wanted to get better with her bow and arrow and she certainly did, often bringing back animals of various sizes. It was her way of coping with potentially losing Joel, something she confided in you that was one of her biggest fears.

Thoughts of Ellie swirled your mind and you paced back and forth, chewing at your fingernails. A nasty habit you suppressed most days. A part of you wanted to go find the girl, follow Callus’ tracks in the snow. Another part of you didn’t want to leave Joel by himself.

Fuck, you thought.

Compartmentalizing you figured if she didn’t return within an hour, you’d go looking for her. If you couldn’t locate her within a mile radius, a strict rule you enforced her limited hunting zone to, you’d hunker down with Joel and wait until morning to find her and scold her for being irresponsible.

You stopped your pacing to look at Joel’s face, seeing how his face was still warped in the painful scowl he hadn’t let go of. His features were beginning to slowly become gaunt as the small amounts of food you’d been able to get him to eat the rare times a day he’d wake were coming far and few in between. Even his usual tan skin was slowly softening to a cooler shade of bronze. He looked like death.

Joel, by all means, was a handsome cowboy. Even with his patchy beard that was littered with grey hair in a few spots. Now he just looked like a ghost of himself.

Okay, fine, you admit to yourself. With Joel down, you’ve kind of missed the fool. You missed the banter and arguing with him about stupid shit. He irritated the daylights out of you because he always wanted to jump headfirst into things without a care for his safety clearly but dammit, the lack of his presence was palpable. You hated it.

You sat beside Joel, removing one of his hands from under the blanket to hold. His hands still rough and calloused, mirrors of yours if you weren’t missing a finger. Once upon a time, you remembered hearing that coma patients could sometimes hear what people said to them, that it helped. Maybe talking to him now would help not just him but you as well, to keep your mind occupied. Maybe pass the time a little. Maybe.

“Hey, it’s me, you grumpy bastard,” you started off lightly. “I don’t know if you can tell but you’ve been puttin’ that girl and I through hell and back trying to keep your ass alive.”

A hollow laugh escapes you, feeling a little more choked up than you’d ever dare to admit. Composing yourself you tried to use playful banter. “How do you do it, cowboy? Ellie is a goddamned handful. Shit, I thought I was bad when I was a teenager,” you sniff, feeling your voice waver.

“When I first laid eyes on you two, I think it would have saved me a whole lotta trouble and pain if Maria let me shoot you,” you sigh dramatically. Even though there was a smile on your lips, it didn’t reach your eyes. What did were the tears that were slowly forming. The added stress of Ellie being missing was really wearing you thin.

Amongst other things.

“Y’know,” you sniffled, “you really hurt my feelings back at the university. When you thought I led the two of you into a trap.” You took a sharp inhale. “As much shit as you and I put each other through, that was the one thing that stung. More than anything.”

You squeezed his hand and sighed, closing your eyes. Admitting that was hard, stars know you’d never say that to Joel while he was conscious nor in front of Ellie.

“Don’t die, you asshole,” you begged softly, wiping away the light tears that coated your lashes, reluctantly letting go of Joel’s hand as you tucked the blanket around him tightly.

After you said your piece, your mind became overrun with the little turd you grew fond of. The more you began to worry about Ellie, the more your thoughts swirled rapidly into worst case scenarios.

Before you worked yourself into a much deeper frenzy, a loud metallic bang echoed from upstairs. You ran up the steps and came face to face with Ellie, looking just as frantic. She raised her hand and in it, a tied white rabbit, so white it was nearly silver in the dim lighting. “I got food,” she said breathlessly.

“And,” she shoved you aside and took off to the basement, “I got this. Can it help?”

Ellie reached into her pocket and pulled out a syringe and orange bottle, she handed it to you while kneeling next to Joel as he shifted in his sleep. You were still rather shocked to see Ellie who looked faintly bloodied and tired, before you could comment on the new rifle on her shoulder, you took the bottle and were damn near milliseconds from riding into her until you read the faded label of the glass container.

Penicillin.

“Where the fuck did you get this, Ellie?”

Without waiting for her to answer, you dug in your pack and pulled out some disinfectant alcohol and a gauze pad to clean the syringe and a spot on Joel’s arm. Ellie refused to look up from where she kept her gaze focused on Joel’s face, “‘s not important.”

“If I wasn’t so mad at you right now, I’d kiss you.”

Throwing away all the questions you had for her, you administered the antibiotic as quickly as you could, he sighed as the medicine entered his body. Although, it was likely you were giving him too much, truthfully, you didn’t think it would hurt him worse than he already was.

As he relaxed underneath your hands, you looked down at his wound one last time for the evening. The haphazard stitches were taut on his stomach where the swelling was, hopefully by morning, he’d be better.

You didn’t look up from Joel as you laid into Ellie, “I don’t want excuses about where you were, only that you promise me to be more careful in the future, please.”

“Ye- yeah, I promise.”

“Good,” you covered Joel back up, “Now go get some rest. I’ll take care of the rabbit and wake you when it’s done.”

You turned your back to Ellie, it wasn’t that you wanted her to feel bad for her little disappearing act. You just needed some space to gather your thoughts. Between being Joel’s caretaker, Ellie’s temporary guardian, and keeping yourself sane, you were a wreck. You needed a moment.

Before you took a step on the stairs you paused. “Good work on getting the medicine, kiddo. Joel would be proud of you too.”

She didn’t respond as you walked away, the implication that although you were upset with her, you were still proud lingered in the air. Mindlessly, you focused on the rabbit, doing what needs to be done to cook it for dinner, pushing away those lingering worries. Ellie was safe, you reminded yourself, she came back.

It didn’t take you long to finish with your meager dinner, still pretty damn proud of Ellie’s evolving hunting skills. Maybe you’d offer to teach her a couple snares in the morning to leave out overnight. Although they tended not to gain anything bigger than a rabbit or a squirrel, something was better than nothing and you’d figure it would help Ellie focus on something other than Joel’s condition.

You bounded down the stairs, bringing the freshly cooked meat with you. A small shake to her shoulder and she was awake, “Dinner’s ready.”

Ellie didn’t bring her gaze up to look you in the eye, likely still ashamed. The two of you still sat in silence eating, occasionally looking to Joel for any changes or whenever he shifted in his sleep.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice sounding small.

“I know, Ellie. I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I was just worried.”

Once again, the silence encompassed you both like a blanket, warmer now than it was before. You broke it first, “I was thinking about teaching you a couple snares in the morning. How does that sound?”

Ellie wiped the grease from her fingers on her jeans and looked up, “I think I’d like that.”

Just like that, the two of you were on even footing. It didn’t feel right to be mad at each other, not when Joel wasn’t there to diffuse. Either way, it was much like when you were the one in between their own fight that day you’d met them, it wasn’t healthy when you all had to rely on each other for survival. At least with Ellie, she was quick to forgive and forget in the face of the larger picture. A quality you kind of admired in the young woman.

Both of you finished with your portions of the meat, saving the rest for the morning or for Joel if he wakes in the night. Simultaneously you shuffled through the remaining ammo together, doling out some spare bullets to Ellie for her shiny new rifle, still not going to ask how she acquired it. Let her have her space.

She took the bullets graciously, reloading her sidearm and long range weapons and placing them in her backpack before getting ready for sleep. You stayed fiddling with your own weapons for a few moments longer before calling it quits too.

You laid down on the opposite side of Joel, biting your lip and hoping for the best. You tossed and turned, not knowing if you could take facing Joel’s sickly frame but you also couldn’t turn your back on him and Ellie who laid on her backpack on his other side.

Please, you wished, let the medicine take.

These kinds of wishes filled your mind until you slowly drifted to a fitful night’s sleep.

By morning, you happened to find yourself shaken awake with Ellie’s face close to yours, “Wake up, I need you awake!”

You jumped up, onto your knees. “What is it,” you ask startled, afraid Joel was worse than he was when you fell asleep. Looking at Joel, he didn’t look like he deteriorated in the night, but he also didn’t look like he improved any.

“I was tracked,” she says as if that explains anything. Both of you have your hands on each other's arms in a failed attempt at communicating the other’s panic.

“What do you mean ‘tracked’, Ellie?”

“Those people I got the medicine from, David and-and James, they fucking tracked me!”

“Ellie, what the fu-.”

“Look, listen, I’m gonna draw them away. Keep an eye on Joel,” she tells you in a rush, letting go of you and bolting up the stairs, grabbing her backpack on the way out.

“Fuck,” you practically shout while getting up and looking out the window. Outside you see silhouettes of a few men, searching the nearby area. Frustrated, you kick the washing machine.

Shit, shit, shit.

You don’t know what to do, you feel tied down once again because of Joel’s condition and Ellie’s neverending saviour complex. You mumble out a few more expletives at this situation just as you see the girl bound down the street on Callus shouting for the intruder’s attention. As she rides away, you hear bullets being shot at her, getting further and further away from you.

You carelessly threw your denim coat on and opted to grab your knives instead of guns, hoping to kill anybody who came close without alerting the others. Out the basement window, you could see a few of the men still lurking about, choosing not to follow Ellie.

Just before you followed Ellie out of the house, you doubled back to Joel, kneeling forward and giving him a kiss on the forehead. “We’ll come back, I promise you Joel. Just please, don’t die on me now.” Another kiss on his warm skin and you left without stopping, barricading the basement door as if it was left unoccupied.

Everything in you wanted to panic, your muscles were screaming to fold in on yourself and heave what little food remained in your stomach but you couldn’t give in. Not when Ellie was in danger. She may have been a pain in the ass, but she was your pain in the ass.

After your conversation last night, you’d be damned if anybody hurts your girl.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your worries free and cleared your mind. Although you were a field medic by title with FEDRA back in the day, working with them turned you into a killer. It was a toxic mindset for you, even when you had joined the Fireflies, they took advantage of your ability to focus on one thing and one thing only, turning it into their own game - death.

It took years to shake off that blank emotionless part of you, even Tommy was afraid of it when he saw the horrendous things you were capable of, what the Fireflies exploited from you, but Tommy wasn’t here and the people you loved were hanging on by a thread.

It was easy to see the outlines of the few straggling men who searched the nearby homes, whatever Ellie did really pissed them off. Now, these people only pissed you off.

You stayed lurking within the shadows of the homes, even with the sun just getting ready to set, it wasn’t too difficult to stay hidden. Especially to those who weren’t familiar with the layout. It was easy to spot how the few men tended to remain within a handful of yards together, opting not to venture out into the buildings alone. Alert and yet unorganized as you could see how they would often turn their backs on each other, giving you such a delicious opportunity to sneak in and out, weaving through them and taking them down one by one.

Was it absolutely horrible this was your instinct? Maybe. But you had two people you wanted to protect, two absolutely annoying yet selfless humans who gave you hope. You did love Joel and Ellie, even if you hadn’t admitted to it yet. Besides, you had a whole lot of stress burdening your shoulders and you wanna hit something.

You watched as the small group approached one of the homes off to the left, allowing you ample room to get close without having to cross the street in the open. You took off running, not bothering to try and conceal your footprints in the snow as you got to the house besides the targets. You entered through a broken window - a common for every single house on this block. Taking lighter footsteps, you ducked by the windows and reached the second floor landing.

The homes in this area were built within close proximity to the others, making it easy for, say, somebody needing to jump between windows without being seen. Perfect.

You listened hard and close as the men shuffled and tossed things around the first floor, looking for any sign of Ellie and ‘those two people she was with’. You growled lowly, really hating the implication that these people knew about the three of you.

Taking another assessment, you noticed there were two men standing guard out the front of the house, idly walking to-and-fro, their conversation remaining on wishing they were chasing Ellie instead.

A deep breath in and you jumped with an ‘oof’, trying to make as little as noise as possible, aiming for a wide open window with a snow covered bed on the other side. Between the snow and the mattress, the noise was cushioned to only a small thud, thankfully concealed by the thuds of the men downstairs shuffling through rooms. You quickly got up and went to the doorframe and saw there was only a hallway and stairs leading down.

You took deeper breaths again, trying to center yourself for what you were about to do as you heard one person come up the stairs - alone.

Placing your body flush against the wall, you waited in stark concentration, drawing your knife from its sheath. The footsteps came close, nearing the room you were hiding in and just as an armed gunman came in, you rushed him. Putting one hand against their forehead, you pulled the other hand and dragged the knife into their throat, essentially cutting off the person from making a noise and ending their life. You pulled and lowered their body as they began to choke out, laying them on the floor gently against the wall, carelessly hiding the body.

Downstairs you could still hear shuffling of the other invader and you made your way to them, silently assessing.

From what you could tell, the other person was banging around in the basement. So you rounded a nearby corner to where the open basement door was until finally, finally, somebody came through. You took him down just the same as his buddy.

So unorganized, you thought. If they were really looking for you and Joel, they were doing a piss poor job of it.

You swiped a bottle from the kitchen as you strolled past, taking aim out a broken window. Giving it a nice little toss, it shattered against the other house and without fail, you heard the tell-tale signs of one of the other men asking ‘what was that’. You ducked behind the faded curtain until one of the targets came into view, watching how he was pensive and alert, fortunately he was by himself which made the next part just as easy.

As soon as the man walked by the window, you jumped out from your hiding spot and jabbed your hunting knife straight into the soft squishy part of his eye, surprisingly facing little to no resistance.

You pulled it back and repeated the motion again once the man made an audible noise, probably alerting his friend. In only a slight rush now, you jumped out the window and removed your blade, now stalking towards the front when you could hear the other man yell the other’s names.

Wrapping around the corner of a house in a whirlwind, you surprised the last one when you stood face-to-face with him. He looked at you, astounded, mouth agape and dropped his weapon - a handgun. Looking down at his body, he whimpered as he took in the sight of your knife now buried deep in his stomach as you yanked them up into his chest piercing his heart.

Copper scent filled the air as the hunter’s body gave out. His blood spilling down your front. Under normal circumstances you would’ve likely vomited all over yourself but considering the innate need to protect Ellie and Joel, all that shit is blown out the window.

All in all, maybe thirty minutes have passed, you wanted to check on Joel but the distant gunshots were making you worried. At the very least, the longer they went off, the longer you knew your little fighter was alive.

Okay, think, you tried to get yourself to focus. You came up with a rapid-fire plan and before you could second guess yourself, you ran. Refusing to stop. Each step in the plush snow found you closer and closer to your hideout.

Entering the home through the garage, you gave Whiskey a pat as you walked on by and headed straight for the basement. You pushed the undisturbed barricade from the door, grateful it signaled that Joel was safe. Entering the downtrodden room you grabbed your holsters, strapping them maybe a little more tightly than you should’ve and throwing your backpack over your shoulders. You double-checked your weapons, making sure they were fully loaded.

Once again, you kneeled next to Joel as he laid on the dirty mattress, huffing from the rising pain from the stitch in your side. “Joel? I’m gonna go back out and find Ellie. I’m gonna go get our girl,” you said.

You hoped you were telling the truth.

[miracvlovs]

✗✗✗   you see [ kaleb yıldırım ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis male ] is up to no good. [ he / him ] has been here for [ five years ] now but they’re still pretty [ abrasive ] which is fine because they’re also [ debonair ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-eight ] year old [ hitman for hire ] actually looks like a lot like [ alperen duymaz ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ strong cigarettes & even stronger whiskey ].

hey, hello, hi, bonjour! s’up buttercups? ‘tis i, your friendly neighbourhood loser chrissie ( a.k.a an irish doofus who is utter plot trash and the actual WORST at keeping track with discord messages, oops ) and i’m super duper excited to be here among you fab human beings! anywho, this is my first kiddo kaleb and he is … how do you say … morally grey. basically his morals are very questionable in every aspect. but! on the plus side, he’s very talented and good at his job even if he is ruthless and callous, oop. he is … the worst and also lowkey messed up inside tbh so pls excuse his blunt and sarcastic nature. plot-wise i’m open to literally anything and everything so come at me with any ideas ya got! i’m always diggity down to spit ball ideas and form some dope connections so pls feel free to invade my ims or hmu on le cord ( chrissie.#9606 ) and we can brainstorm until our heart’s content! if ya wanna, go ahead and light that lil grey heart up red and i’ll shimmy my butt your way for all of the good stuff. anywho, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we?

fundamentals.

KALEB EMER YILDIRIM     —     twenty-eight, hitman for hire,   +   one snarky son of a gun   /   troubled dude with daddy issues   /   all issues tbh ! 

aesthetics   ➤   dried blood caked into the grooves of cut knuckles, the lingering scent of smoke and gasoline, silver slivers of past scarring, five o’clock shadow peppering a blunt jawline, discolourations of blue and purple decorating battered hands, a subtle smirk etched upon a devious countenance, calloused fingertips riddled with small paper cuts, dark circles under almost-black eyes, the noise of screeching tires in the middle of the night, a tall stature adorned in all-black attire, ghosts of bruises staining calloused skin green, a scuffed zippo lighter in a pack of marlboros containing only one cigarette, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a sly grin under stormy dark eyes, a sniper on the roof of a deserted building, the roar of a car engine, & clenched, white-knuckled fists.

nicknames. kal.

date of birth. november third.

gender. cis male.

pronouns. he + him.

birthplace. manhattan, nyc.

orientation. bisexual + aromantic.

education. bachelor of music degree obtained from manhattan school of music.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, turkish, spanish, & french.

negative traits. haughty, abrasive, enigmatic, cynical, temperamental, calculating, hedonistic, distant, sarcastic, & volatile.

positive traits. adept, diligent, charming, resilient, candid, adept, charming, audacious, determined, & resourceful.

strengths. efficient, energetic, self-confident, strong-willed, strategic thinker, charismatic, & inspiring.

weaknesses. stubborn, dominant, intolerant, impatient, arrogant, poor handling of emotions, cold, & ruthless.

talents. piano, retaining information, memory recall, lock-picking, carjacking, hand-to-hand combat, automobile knowledge, tracking people down, & excellent problem-solving abilities. 

physiology. dark brown eyes. dark brown hair. six feet, one inch tall. of a lean, broad stature with a straight posture and evident height. has a few silvery scars littered across his skin. has a few tattoos in a few less visible places. is ambidextrous.

psychology. scorpio zodiac. water element. slytherin house. entj-a. chaotic neutral. type eight enneagram. choleric temperament. interpersonal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, prescription drugs, cocaine, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and insomnia. his vices are lust, wrath and pride. his virtues are ... honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers   :   infidelity, divorce, alcoholism, drug abuse, cancer, death, car crash, funeral, blood, murder, suicide mention, gun mention, & various references to death and murder. 

a synopsis.   ah, here he is—my tol, troubled, grouchy son : ' ) don't u just adore ur resident trashy, snarky, but precious and sad fuckboi muse? bc i know I DO! anyways, before i digress, i'll cut to the chase. so, waaay before he blessed the universe with his presence, his mother ( who was originally from turkey ) moved to the states where she met one alexander hale. you can probably guess the rest: the pair married, they had children, everything seemed to be going swimmingly, yada yada. here’s a lil background: the hale family—a line of manhattan-born businessmen / lawyers / diplomats etc. they're dripping in wealth, not always as squeaky clean as they portray themselves as to be. kaleb’s dad was a douche, expected both of his sons to follow in his shadow and become lawyers, ran around behind his wife's back: the whole shoot and shebang of a classic a-hole. he always kind of ignored kaleb in favour of his eldest son joshua so kaleb kinda became hard-hearted and resentful due to the lack of his father's attention. skip a few years and he spied his dad cheating on his mother with his secretary though he refused to tell another soul for fear of any potential backlash. soon enough, his mother found this out for herself, their argument ruined his thirteenth birthday party then they divorced soon after. his mother fell off the wagon, became terminally ill—all while his father was remarrying and expecting a daughter with his secretary. it was a hella rough two years for kaleb. it got even worse. eventually, his mother passed away and his step-mother divorced his father to breeze off into the sunset with her new lover; leaving her daughter with her piss-poor excuse of a dad. at this point, kaleb was lonely and angry but adopted the role of his step-sister's protector, shielding her from their father's increasing substance abuse induced violence. just before his seventeenth birthday, his father died in a car crash. of course, he didn't entirely mourn the loss. almost immediately, he and his younger sister moved in with their elder brother who helped kaleb get into university. with dear ole dad out of the picture, he could finally pursue his interest and flair for music. after he graduated, he moved to santa ysabel with his brother and brother's family. in the beginning, things were going fine. yeah, sure, he was struggling for work and felt bad that his brother had to keep him afloat. normal stuff. then, one day, things quickly turned sour in his world. [ TRIGGER FOR GORE, BLOOD, SUICIDE MENTION, GUN MENTION, MURDER, DEATH ] he’d came home to find the locks on the doors busted, advancing into the house carefully only to find his brother’s lifeless corpse crumbled on the kitchen tiles: his throat and wrists slashed, posed as a suicide. of course, kaleb knew better. he knew his brother; knew he would never leave him or his family. upon further inspection of the house, he’d discovered the body of his wife upstairs: a bullet hole between her eyes. [ TRIGGER OVER ] the whole ordeal was enough to turn his stomach but once the sickness had subsided, all kaleb felt was a strong thirst for blood. sure, it was pretty damn stupid to try and seek revenge or whatnot ... but kaleb had always been one to let his heart guide his brain. anyways, time skip now to the moment he’d uncovered his brother’s entanglement with some dodgy loan shark, drug dealing criminals who were responsible for his murder. in the end, he’d hunted them down and eradicated them one by one, over a span of weeks. at first, he hated himself and what his desire for vengeance had turned him into but he kept going until he’d got them all: until he’d grown numb. truthfully, how he wound up taking lives for a living is beyond him. he woke up one day, found himself hired by some big-wig businessman who wanted rid of his business partner and et voilà, he was tangled up in the dark side of existence. i mean, was he blackmailed into doing his first paid hit? yes. but who can blame him? especially when they claimed to have intel regarding the sudden demise of a prominent figure in the criminal underbelly of the city, a.k.a his brother’s killer. it was a risk kaleb simply couldn’t take. he prefers to keep himself anonymous, hidden behind shadows, unsuspecting. death has become a job. nothing more. nothing less. it’s simply the algorithm of his existence: receive a dossier, take care of the target, get paid a hefty lump sum. and all just for enacting a stranger’s revenge in the blood of another. he moves like a deadly phantom, his footsteps light as a feather, whipping through the night like a bullet through a target’s skull. sartre claims that hell is other people. and if you were to stare into kaleb’s eyes—eyes eerily similar to having been cut from coal—you might just see hell and everyone in it staring right back at you. as nietzsche wrote: “ he who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. and if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. ”

random extras.

he has a lot of small scars over his body, most of which he can’t account for or has forgotten about.

owns and drives a black 1969 boss 429 mustang which he loves arguably more than he loves himself.

speaking of, he actually is full of self-hatred so don’t let the haughtiness fool you.

trusts nobody but himself and is loyal to nobody but himself.

has a lot of anger issues so often ends up taking part in underground fights.

he rates around a solid three on the kinsey scale.

is a distant person; closed-off emotionally and prefers to keep himself to himself.

when it comes to whether or not he is morally decent or an extremely bad person, he is somewhere in the middle of that spectrum.

he isn’t heartless but he isn’t exactly compassionate either.

kind of shady but knows how to pass himself as charming. 

has been thru sum shit n seen sum shit so he’s v messed up inside.

though he does have a soft spot for animals and children.

his marksmanship is impeccable.

he’s naturally gifted with firearms and his shot is always on point.

dark eyes and bruised knuckles are his ultimate aesthetic tbh.

actually really appreciates classical music, though he’ll never tell. blame it on his piano lessons from childhood.

speaking of piano, he’s low key gifted at playing although he rarely does these days.

has a very short fuse and can lose his temper quite easily.

he has a good heart and good intentions when it comes to those he actually cares about although he’ll never let this show.

favourite coping mechanism? isolation.

a bit of a lone wolf. he keeps people at arm’s length but acts in a way where people are under the illusion he’s their friend.

basically the tall, dark and handsome trope: ( most of the tall, dark and handsome men display aloof, cold and distant personality but they do have a gentle and caring side. )

is a little snarky and grumpy but if you manage to break this exterior, you’ll find he’s quite witty and easy going.

he got into fighting at a young age. it was the only way to try and learn how to defend himself against his father.

sleep?? he doesn’t know her.

tends to repress his emotions until he explodes.

healthy coping mechanisms?? he doesn’t know them either.

is prone to pushing the self destruct button.

you can find a pinterest board for him by clicking anywhere here.

[mushroomminded]

Mend Until You’re Whole

The Aftermath of Bend Until You Break 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Written by @fundeadasylum, illustrated by myself.

Warning for light medical gore.

Dan and Jake had thought the worst was behind them once they’d walked out the doors with Milo in their arms. It should have been smooth sailing from then on—take Milo home, help him recover, and everything would go back to the way it used to be. Naivety to think that way, maybe, but it was a hopeful naivety born out of love and the wish for safety.

It never occurred to them that taking Milo straight home wouldn’t be a viable option.

Their armed escort herded them to the back of an ambulance and they climbed in without question. Milo, almost asleep with exhaustion and warm in Dan’s arms, didn’t stir at all until the doors slammed shut with a bang, jolting him out of his half-sleep state. His wide eyes darted across the interior of the ambulance as it rumbled to life and set off down the street, sirens quiet so as not to draw more attention. The chemical smell made his heart race, the stretcher sending his brain into fight or flight, and he squirmed in Dan’s arms, tiny noises of fright escaping him as he bumped the top of his head against Jake’s shoulder.

“Milo, Milo, hey, sshh, Milo, it’s okay, it’s okay, I promise,” Dan gave the teenager a gentle squeeze and then immediately loosened his grip when Milo bucked against him, “Milo, buddy, ssshhh, shh, it’s okay. Hey. Hey, Milo, look at me. Milo. Up here, kiddo.”

Frightened eyes darted up to meet Dan’s worried gaze, glazed in confusion for a moment before clarity settled in and he tucked his face into Dan’s shoulder with a shuddering sigh. Jake’s shaking fingers carded gently through Milo’s hair, trepidation and fear and relief dancing across his features in equal measure.

This was not going to be the pleasant reunion they had been expecting.

———

It wasn’t.

Though Milo had calmed down by the time they reached the hospital, he refused to let the EMTs near him and would only curl deeper into Dan’s arms, glaring at them with his jaw clenched as if resisting the urge to bite them. Tremors shook his thin frame from time to time and he kept twisting around to make sure Dan and Jake were still there.

He clung to Dan when they tried to convince him to get on the stretcher, eyes misting with frightened and angry tears he stubbornly tried to keep from falling. With an apologetic glance at the EMTs, Dan carefully followed Jake out of the ambulance and in through the emergency room doors to the hospital proper.

Really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise what happened, all things considered. But relief had a way of draping a blanket of security over rational; they’d dropped their guard once they’d left the Facility grounds.

Milo got one whiff of chemical cleaner, of chalky medicine, of faded blood, saw the flash of scrubs and heard the murmur of medical terms, and he screamed.

He thrashed in Dan’s arms and it was all the man could do to keep the boy from falling to the floor. He and Jake desperately tried to calm Milo down as his screams broke into heaving sobs and begging. His choked words tore cold fear through the men as the pleas tumbled out of Milo’s mouth,

“P-please, no, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I promise! N-not the—no! Please, I don’t want—not the chair! Don’t cut me—don’t take them out—please! I’ll be a good boy! I’ll be good! Please, please!”

———

He had to be sedated, of course. And that went about as well as they could expect. More thrashing, more screaming, more tears.

Jake had his face in his hands at Milo’s bedside, looking more drawn and exhausted than he had earlier. The tension had yet to leave him, the ridges of his spine harsh through the back of his dress shirt where he was doubled over his lap, reading misery in every line of his body. Dan was slouched in the chair next to him, staring vacantly at the shallow rise and fall of Milo’s chest in the hospital bed. The beeping of the heart monitor was too loud.

There were a lot of tests that needed to be done, a lot of injuries to heal, a lot of pain to undo. It would take a long time. It would have taken a lot of money if the government wasn’t paying for everything as penance for their facility’s errors. Small fucking penance that it was.

“When did our lives turn into this?” Dan said hoarsely, something lost and not a little hopeless in his expression, “What happened to us?”

Jake raised his head, gaze falling on the body of the teenager that used to be their friend,

“Who the hell knows. Some kind of karmic bullshi—stuff?” He cast a glance at Dan, dark humor steepled in his voice, “You haven’t murdered anyone, have you?”

Dan blinked and the ghost of an angry smirk twisted the corner of his mouth, something feral and angry and unfamiliar,

“No. But in that place…kinda wish I had.”

Jake knew what he meant.

———

Milo did not like the hospital. That went both without saying and was to be expected. But it didn’t make things any easier.

When Dan and Jake weren’t around, he cried and kicked and made things generally difficult for everyone, refusing to cooperate with unfamiliar adults. If any of them grew frustrated or displayed signs of anger around him, he shrank away in terror, holding his arms over his head or begging not to be hurt. Even when his dads were around, he still struggled, keening in distress if he saw a needle or if someone moved too quickly. He clung to them, curling up in the safety of Dan’s big arms or tucking his head under Jake’s chin and snuggling into his lap. It was an ordeal to separate him from either one of them and no one was keen to do it. With enough reassurances and gentle coaxing, he would cooperate but it was a delicate and careful thing.

Milo was scared, on edge, and panicked easily. He clung to the big stuffed shark his dads had brought him on one of their visits and wouldn’t let it go, not for a second. He screamed in the middle of the night, waking other patients and sending nurses into a frenzy. When the doctors brought up moving him into a psychiatric ward, the thundercloud that Daniel Fuller became filled the room with a swelling rage and a look of such ferocity that the doctor immediately changed the subject and never brought it up again.

A psychiatrist was brought in to talk with both men and Milo himself. It took several weeks of careful nudging but Milo eventually talked. And when he talked, he broke down into gasping sobs and clutched his plush shark to his chest as if he could keep it all from spilling out the horrid scars in his skin.

———

The staples had to come out eventually.

Milo didn’t want to go under, didn’t want to be knocked out, and hyperventilated at the suggestion. It took him hours to calm down and even after he would snap at any doctors or nurses who came too close.

“How much will it hurt him?” Jake asked while Dan sat in the background, rocking Milo gently to soothe him, “If he’s awake for it, I mean. How much will it hurt?”

The attending physician rubbed the back of his neck, looking disgruntled but not angry, “Honestly, taking the staples out probably won’t hurt all that much. The problem is…after they come out. We’ll need to assess the damages, check his organs, lots of fun poking around. Then he’ll have to be properly sewed up and bandaged.” The doctor sighed, offering an apologetic, one-shouldered shrug, “Given the way he’s reacting to everything, I can’t imagine he’d be very keen on letting us do any of that.”

Jake but his lip, glanced over his shoulder at where Dan was murmuring softly into Milo’s hair. It made his heart ache, seeing what was left of the bright and brilliant Milo, seeing the shell of an empty firecracker tossed to the side of road. God, but it made him hurt in a way he hadn’t hurt since he’d had his heart broken during his teenage years.

No, it hurt even more than that.

“Fuck…” He groaned, “I—I mean, sorry, it’s—shoot.”

The doctor chuckled weakly, “It’s all right, I’ve heard worse. Look, um, I’ll talk to the kid’s psychiatrist and see what he recommends. See if you and your partner can’t talk some sense into the boy. This needs to happen; sooner, rather than later.”

“My—no, Dan’s not—nh…” Jake’s reaching hand dropped to his side, his shoulders slumping. He stared at the closed door of the hospital room for a moment and then turned to face the room’s two other occupants.

This was going to be one hell of a conversation.

———

In the end, the kept Milo awake but so high on numbing agents and gases he could hardly process anything around him. And as long as he stayed out of the way, Jake was allowed to stand by Milo’s head and offer him gentle reassurances through a medical mask and latex gloves.

Dan kept crying and so he was regulated to the observation room of the operating theatre. If Jake looked up he could see the larger man’s hands pressed against the glass, his cheeks wet with tears as he tried to see what was going on. Once in a while, he would meet Jake’s eyes and mouth something that might have been “how’s he doing”. And Jake would look down at the little boy whose head was cupped gently between his hands, eyes dull and lidded with drugs, occasionally twitching his head back and forth against the feel of the rubber mask over his face. Then he’d look up again and give Dan a shaky thumbs up, forcing a wide enough smile to make his eyes crinkle even if he didn’t mean it.

Milo was terrifyingly still during the operation, his breathing shallow, his comprehension minimal. But when he blinked himself awake enough to realize where he was, he’d begin to fret and struggle against the drugs weighing down his mind and body.

In those moments, Jake would lean down, brushing Milo’s hair or massaging his temples, and murmur softly to him. Most of the time it was promises that everything would be okay or the temptations of sweet treats when they finally made it home. Sometimes it was stories of his days in a band, things he wouldn’t normally talk about.

Once, and only once, it was almost a confession of the truth.

———

“MILO!”

The teenager jumped and looked up in time to get an armful of his best friend as Cody threw himself into Milo’s hospital bed.

It was far enough into Milo’s recovery that he’d gained back nearly all the weight and muscle mass he’d lost, but he still looked pale and drawn. The heavy bags under his eyes still clung like grim reminders of his ordeal and his chest was a lacework of bandages and tender stitches. But he still laughed when he saw Cody, laughed until he cried, and hugged the other boy as tightly as he could. It was only the twinge of pain from his chest that made him release his friend with a sharp intake of breath.

“Oh, sorry! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Cody wiped the tears from his face, his hands fluttering over Milo as if he could do something to help.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Milo’s voice was choked and he curled his fingers into Cody’s shirt, “I’m just…so happy you’re here. I missed you, dude.”

“I missed you too.”

———

Cody told him how his story had been all over the news, how everyone had been talking about it, how there was a lot of yelling back and forth from people in power. The government had shut down the Facility and apparently the staff were all in prison while everybody fought over what had happened.

“What’s school been like?” Milo asked quietly and Cody’s demeanor shifted, looking away to watch his fingers twirl into the hospital sheets.

“Honestly, not great,” Cody said, “There’s a lot of rumors and stuff going around. Other kids have been asking me a lot of questions. Sometimes the press would sneak onto the school grounds, try and interview people. It’s been awful.” He looked up again, a wane smile on his face, “But you’re back so everything will be okay again…!”

Milo hummed, turning to face the only window in his private hospital room, watching the dust motes swirl in the sunlight spilling onto the cold tile floor. There was a contemplative look on his face, brow furrowed. The bright lights of the hospital made him look worse than he was; drawing out the still heavy bags under his eyes, sharpening the shallow jut of his cheekbones, and caving in the dip of his clavicle peeking through the top of his hospital gown. He looked older, exhausted and drained and still teetering towards the corpse-like side of pale. “Milo…?” Cody murmured, soft, wary, worried. His hand stretched out, tentative and maybe a little frightened, and he tucked his fingers into Milo’s palm, clasping his friend’s hand in his own. Milo turned to look at him again, lips twitched in a tired imitation of a smile, but his eyes warm. “’S gonna be different from now on, huh?” “Yeah,” Cody said, “Maybe.” There was another stretch of silence, filled only with the background buzz of hospital activity outside the door and the steady beat of the heart monitor. Cody sucked in a breath, let it out again, hesitated before words haltingly tumbled out of his mouth, “Will you…tell me? Someday? Not now, I mean, but someday, will you tell me what happened? What really happened? Just—you don’t have to—but just…if I can help…” Milo’s hand tightened around Cody’s and he slumped forward, bumping his head into his friend’s shoulder, hiding his face in the other boy’s jacket. His spine was a jagged ridge down his back. The curve of something black poked out from the edge of his gown, harsh and dark against his pale skin. Cody brought a hand up and curled it gently into the short hair at the back of Milo’s head, comforting, supportive, reassuring. “Maybe,” Milo’s voice whispered into the quiet, breath hot against the soft fabric of his best friend’s jacket, “Maybe someday I’ll tell you. But right now, I just want to forget.”

———

Milo didn’t want to look at himself when they removed the bandages from his chest.

But he did.

His heart stuttered against his ribs and he bit his lip hard, blinking to keep the tears inside because he refused—refused—to cry anymore.

The staples were gone but the memory on his flesh would remain. Pink and tender and held together by stitches that they told him would naturally dissolve when he’d healed. There were damages that could not be repaired, though; severed nerves and split muscles that would leave him weakened for the rest of his life. Pain would be frequent throughout the healing process and possibly still haunt him afterwards, phantom twinges that would taunt him with memories he sorely wished to forget.

Milo swallowed a shaky breath and raised a trembling hand. His fingertips rested gently on the line of stitches down his sternum. They tingled like live wires, stinging slightly against the palm of his hand as he ran his hand down to his stomach,

It didn’t feel like his body anymore.

And the thought made the pain all the worse.

——— Leaving the hospital sucked. Not as much as being in the hospital sucked, but it still sucked. It sucked because they wouldn’t let Milo walk out on his own two feet, insisting that he be pushed out in a wheelchair. It sucked because Jake had a bag of pills and a stack of papers for diet and exercise and therapy sessions. It sucked because the press had been hovering like vultures trying to get a glimpse of Milo since he’d been freed from the Facility. It sucked because Milo should have been excited about finally being able to go home. He should have been thrilled, overjoyed, grinning with happiness. But instead he was scared. As much as he hated being there, the hospital was familiar, it was routine, it was almost horribly normal with its white walls and fluttering machines. Home should have seemed normal too. But to Milo it felt like a massive chasm stretching down into infinite blackness in front of him while someone shouted from the sidelines that there really was a bridge it was just invisible and all he had to step out over that vast emptiness. Nothing could ever be the same, not after the Facility, not after what he’d been through. Not after what they’d all been through. ——— Settling Milo in was difficult. He crept tentatively through the house as if he was in a stranger’s home and was afraid of going somewhere he shouldn’t. Silence made him fidgety and strangers knocking on the door made him bolt. He didn’t really cry if Dan or Jake left the room, but the whimpering noise Milo would make when one of them was out of his sight was an animalistic sound of fear and distress that wrenched their hearts. He trailed after one or both of them like a lost duckling, plucking at the hems of their shirts and squashing himself against their backs or sides, soaking in their warmth.

“Milo, sweetheart, you gotta eat,” Jake murmured, brushing his hand through the boy’s hair. Milo was staring at the plate of cooked rice and softened vegetables in front of him, his nose wrinkled and his hands in his lap. “M’ not hungry,” Milo told the plate of food. “Just a few bites?” Jake ventured hopefully, “For me?” No response, “If not for me then for Dan? You know he’s going to get all mushy and wear that kicked puppy look the rest of day if he finds out you didn’t eat.” Milo glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile, “Are you using Dan to guilt trip me?” “Me? Guilt trip? Never.” Jake scoffed, unable to keep the smile off his own face, “But…between you and me, I know where Dan hid the ice cream in the freezer. So if guilt tripping doesn’t work, there’s always bribery.” Milo laughed. He laughed and even though it tugged painfully at the mutilated skin on his chest and made him a little bit dizzy, it felt good. He cleaned up his entire plate of food. Then he laughed again when Dan whined at them both for taking his ice cream.

[sweetest-honeybee]

Sanders Sides Horror Story

Note: There are MANY trigger warnings in this, so be safe. There are mentions of blood, gore, knives, cutting, psychopathy, insanity, manipulation, Deceit Sanders, mouth sewing, crying, panic attacks, etc.

I hope you all enjoy this!

Tag list: @weirdonehereoops @prinxietyforlifefightmeiswear @pippippippin @mystghost @sleep-amongst-stars @56-reblogs-in-a-trenchcoat @small-words-to-say @blueberry1423 @miserykillme @dangernoodleprotectionsquad @0beansprout0 @therealpeterpan @ehekeb @rememberfateau-nowofficial @kitthepan @emovirgil-sanders @challywally @ravenclawangst @demonvirgil @sanderssquid @allthemetalsoftherainbow @idon-kno @romanochez @the-names-hell666 @devinedrabbles @hi-alex-the-ghost @thrown-out-pasta @smolbeanvirgil @thatonepersonwhoshipspeople @ineedahuganddontknowwhatsgoin @mystery-pinius

Patton has been acting strange lately. He’s been staying up much later, especially not even tucking anyone into their beds. He refuses, although politely, to eat with everyone-it would be a safe assumption that he wasn’t eating at all either even when alone. Speaking of being alone, many of the light sides could swear that they’d hear Patton crying in his room, but whenever anyone asked about it, they were met with a sickeningly bright smile or he wouldn’t acknowledge them at all and avoid the question.

And even Logan, who pressed and pressed for some kind of information was still stuck on why Patton had changed so suddenly. Possibly he was sick or was developing a mental illness, and in all cases would harm Thomas so someone needed a reply from Patton in some way.  

He’s also been very emotional and moody. He would be happy and one comment would send him into tears. Sometimes he would be in the middle of yelling-which that alone wasn’t normal for him-and then suddenly begin laughing hysterically. Any who witnessed it were almost terrified for his well being-Virgil especially.

However, Patton didn’t care for his anxiety. He noticed that with the stress it’s been causing Virgil, he’s been more snappy and insulted Roman to farther extents than sarcastic or playful, They’ve become more ill-mannered and uncivil and because of how often it was, Roman’s self esteem was continuously getting lower and lower. His hair was getting messier and his sleeves were always long. The bags under his eyes only grew and the fake smiles were getting brighter and brighter.

And Patton knew he had to do something about this, something about the anxious side. He needed to keep that angry mouth shut and he already had a plan. Roman, needed some love.

Blackmail was oddly something he’s tried before and learned from many of the other sides. Logan was his easy target and he wouldn’t let down his pride for anything. He has to be seen as stoic and rational and serious. If he was seen doing anything that didn’t fall under those categories, he knew he would be done for.

And with how much smack-talk Virgil’s been throwing recently, it was a highly likely possibility.   

He collected several pictures of Logan and visited the logicalt trait. The pictures were along the many lines of questionable and would ruin Logan’s reputation if anyone saw them. With one simple request and a seeming innocent smile, Logan now worked for Patton. He now helped him with any unnerving task he was faced with as long as Patton had the pictures.

Patton explained what they would do to Virgil and Logan felt sick to his stomach but knew it had to be done. Virgil has to hold his tongue if even that meant that they would sew it shut.

It was easy to get Virgil alone since him and Patton were cuh close friends. Patton made it seem like he was going to have a lovely little conversation with him and Virgil led him to the living room quickly. Logan waited around the corner for a few minutes around the corner of the doorway, holding a needle and thread. At this point he regretted what he was about to do.

“Oh! Sorry, I have to tie my shoe, hold on,” Virgil said, leaning down to tie his purple converse. Patton made eye contact with Logan and nodded.

He snaked his arms around Virgil from behind, restricting his arms from movement.

“Uh, Patton? You okay buddy?”

“I’m only giving you a hug!”

“This-” he struggled,”-This doesn’t feel like a hug. It feels like you’re strangling me.”

“Well, maybe I’m trying to do that too.” Patton’s voice changed to a low growl and he hugged tighter.

“What? Wait-”

“I’m sorry, Virgil. It had to be done.” Logan emerged from the doorway.

“Logan? What are you doing?!” Logan kneeled by Virgil and raised the needled to the anxious side’s lips.

“Logan! What are you-Hmph!” Virgil yelped and screamed. The needle pierced his lips over and over, the uncomfortable sensation of the thread going through his skin. Blood dripped from his chin and he writhed and twisted in Patton’s grip, but it was no use. Tears flowed from his cheeks while he shook vigorously. When Logan finished, he stood up and let Patton release Virgil to fall to the floor, sobbing.

Logan muttered hundreds upon hundreds of apologies, feeling terrible but Patton told him to do it.

“Pa-hmph-mm-”

“Sorry, kiddo, but thats what you get for being mean to Roman. Don’t worry! You’ll be okay!” Patton’s smile was twisted as Virgil looked up at him and Logan with horror.

“It’ll all get better soon!Don’t cry!You’ll be a part of a very happy family once I’m finished!” Virgil whimpered and touched the threads closing his mouth, wincing.

“It’ll heal if you try not to speak Virgil,” Logan said sternly. Virgil simply sat on the floor, now quietly crying. Logan and Patton looked at each other before walking away from Virgil.

It was now Roman’s turn and the prince certainly just couldn’t be unhappy! Patton made a plan for that too.

Days later he found the disheveled creative side hunched over at the dining room table with a single mug of coffee. His face was tucked into his right hand while he stirred the coffee with his spoon dolefully. The room was hardly lit and some could even notice that the cabinets were cracked and the paint was chipped. It was as if no life was in the mind anymore without his glorious singing and dramatic entrances everywhere he went.

Patton acted sympathetic and quietly approached Roman carefully. Softly, he set his hand on the younger’s shoulder.

“Hey Kiddo,” he started, whispering as to not startle the other,”You feelin’ okay, Bud?” Roman simply groaned in reply.

“I could be ten times better. I could be writing and singing….but I just don’t feel it anymore,” he said solemnly, pushing his coffee away from himself. “I bet you’re doing a lot finer than me Padre.” Patton clicked his tongue.

“Aw, Roman. Is it because of what Virgil said?” Roman scoffed.

“What Virgil said was something that meant more to me than anything. He criticized me, called my many names with the same definition of idiot, and gave no shits when I did anyhting for him or got hurt. So yes, Patton, it is because of what Virgil said. I’m surprised Deceit hadn’t join him while he still could. The two have been….quiet.”

With a twitch of his ever bright smile, Patton spoke again.

“That’s no way to talk about yourself!”

“Patton, please-”

“I will shower you in compliments! But also, can you come with me to my room? I have a surprise for you! And Logan’s in on it too! What do ya say?” Roman sighed with the slightest of smiles and stood from his chair.

“Alright.”

Through the hallway, Patton complimented Roman and showered him with affection. He held his hand, gave him cheek kisses, and did all sorts of things. But he didn’t know what he was getting into.

As they got to the baby blue door, Patton made sure that Roman was ready to walk inside. The prince seemed like he had an entire mood shift. He was excited, although still a little weary and was bouncing on the soles of his feet. When Roman was close enough, Patton opened the door, showing them both a dark room.

“What? Where’s the surprise?”

“In there, Silly! You have to walk inside!”

“Oh! Alright?” Roman hesitantly walked in and looked around, seeing a normal bedroom filled with stuff animals. “This doesn’t look too surprise-y, Patton. Are you lying to me? Wait, Deceit?!”

“It’ll be fine, Roman! Have a good time!” The door slammed shut and Roman instantly was filled with worry. With several attempts to break down the door, it wouldn’t budge. He started panicking more and more as time went by, yelling for help.

That was until a shadowy figure approached him and everything went black.

It only felt like he was out for a few minutes. The sound of a soothing voice and classical music was what awakened him from his mini-comatose. With a short blink, he opened his eyes slightly. The room was blurry, but he noticed several golds, oranges, and blues and browns. Different speckles of bright light danced around in his vision and he opened his eyes wider to get a clear view of the room.

Logan’s room, perhaps. No other room had tables set with bottles of colored liquid and a map of the world up on the wall. Also it was worth noting that a tray of knives and syringes laid next to him on the nightstand which caused him more terror. Come to think of it, he was completely immobile. He was strapped to the mattress by leather and struggling to move only made it feel tighter.

“Logan! Patton! Where are you?! Deceit! Is this your doing?! Is it because I called you Snake Face that one time?!”

“Calm down, Roman. He would never do that, Only the happy are the strongest and he isn’t one of us.” Roman raised his head as much as he could and saw Patton smiling maniacally, eyes twitching. A knife was in his hand and he walked towards Roman while the prince screamed in fear at the sight. He felt as if he was in a horror movie.

It only got worse from there. Within seconds, an agonizing pain shot through his chest and he let out a single ear piercing scream followed by cries. The sharp knife slashed through his skin and blood spilled over onto the bed sheets.

“Patton! Patton please stop! Patton it hurts! Patton please! Please stop!” he begged but to no avail. Patton only continued.

“Sorry, Roman! All princes need to be discouraged! Just listen to me and it will all be over!” Within minutes, Roman complied. His screaming dialed down now to whimpers and blubbering.

And just like that he made like a glow stick and cracked. He was free now for Patton to mold into the happy prince he needed to be.An eternal smile was carved into his face and his eyes were widened to look forever surprised.  

“Lolo! You wanna help me put the finishing touch?” Logan, who stood aside quietly watching with horror nodded and walked over to the two.

“What is it that I can assist you with?”

“Can you whip something up in your little lab to get rid of his scars?” Logan faltered for a moment.

“Ah-uhm-yes, I can. I will get started on that.”

“Was that hesitation? Do you not want to help me make everyone better?” Patton lifted the knife once more the the logical side’s neck. The other shook his head quickly.

“Apologies, but you unsettle me sometimes.”

“Sorry, Lo! But that was a part of the deal! You do whatever I say without. Any. Hesitation.” By the end of the phrase his expression grew darker and Logan gulped. After nodding, the logical trait hurriedly stumbled over to his small lab station.

“And while you do that, I’m gonna take Roman to his room. Also, I might enjoy myself to some cookies. I’m feelin’ dangerous!” With that, Patton hoisted Roman by the arms over his shoulders and dragged him out of the room forcefully. Logan watched and now felt so much regret for every decision he made up to this point. The pictures were nothing to him anymore but he feared what Patton might do to him of his disobeyed his master.

Within about thirty minutes, the solution was finished and Logan poured it into a erlenmeyer flask, plugging the top with a cork. It was probably not the safest way of closing it but it was what he had for such a large amount of liquid. He exited the room, trying to find Patton and saw the normally bubbly trait sitting on his bed eating a plate of cookies.

“Hello, Patton. I’ve finished the serum to rid Roman of his-” he swallowed for a second,”-his scars. I hope this will suffice.”

“Can we get him to drink it?”

“Uh-Wha? I don’t think it’s drinkable but you can try. If it kills him, that will be a-”

“Perfect thing! He’s just been too sad and sulky so if he dies that’s not a problem at all!”Logan’s eye twitched at his ignorance but he still stayed calm and contained against his every will.

Patton made his way to Roman’s room where the prince still lay unconscious, although still looking awake. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was formed into the false smile Patton gave him earlier. The now morally grey side took conjured a sponge and poured the solution onto it. He scrubbed every nook and crevice of the prince’s body, watching in awe as the scars faded immediately.

Now to test what happens inside the body.

He took Roman’s jaw and forced it open, pouring the liquid inside his mouth and tilting his head to where he could swallow it. Nothing happened after a few moments and Patton groaned disdainfully. Well, it could’ve gone worse he guessed.

“Logan, I have an idea.”

“And that is?”

“Well first, what is happening to Thomas right now?”

“Ah-uhm...he is almost very reckless in his actions and does not care to sing or pursue acting. He has no self esteem and planning anything with Joan and Talyn-”

“Stop right there.”

“What?”

“Joan and Talyn! They are a part of this FAMily, yes?”

“Uh...yes?”

“And I’m thinking that we should make them eternally happy as well! Bust them up a bit! Downgrade them then build them up again!”

“What?!”

“I know! I’m such a genius!” Logan now lost it. The very thought of Joan or Talyn being in any type of danger fueled a fire inside him.

“Patton, we are not hurting his friends! Do you even care about them! All you’ve been focused on is putting everyone near death! You are nothing but a psychopath!” Logan yelled and waved his hands around, making his point.

But Patton didn’t think Logan would ever be something he had to fix. He’s been so docile and obedient throughout everything! He thought the happy family was almost complete! But apparently this teacher of his wouldn’t behave. And he needed to fix that and make him happy. To make him smile forever.

“Well, Logan, if that’s how you feel then leave. I’ll finish this myself.” Logan was a little surprised but walked off quickly. He had no more plans to work for Patton-the father would never succeed without his intelligence so he was now no more than an inconvenience.

But oh how wrong he was. He wouldn´t ever be safe from Patton.

The moral trait waited a few days, making Logan feel like he was safe and sound. He thought that Patton wouldn’t do anything and just give up entirely. However, late in the evening while he dressed himself in his unicorn onesie for bed, an unsuspecting father-like side creeped into the bedroom with his now iconic knife. Within seconds after Logan fixed his zipper, Patton jumped at him from the closet and pinned him to the floor.

But Logan hardly seemed phased. Right now, he was filled with terror but a blank facade engraved his facial features. The knife was held against his neck, a small dribble of blood leaking down the side if it.

“It seems I have to fix you now Lolo! Don’t ever leave me again.” Patton smiled psychotically and unzipped Logan’s onesie.

“Patton, you have no reason to do this,” Logan said, holding the waver in his voice. “This isn’t anything like you. You are Morality-Patton Sanders. You are not meant to hurt people and make them feel bad.” Patton growled.

“Don’t tell me what I’m made for! That’s all you do to everyone! You’re mean and rude and just-ARGH!” The knife went down onto to logical sides chest harshly and out of sheer terror, Logan didn’t move in the slightest. He was too far into shock to scream or cry out. And this didn’t please Patton at all.

The cuts were definitely deep enough to hurt, but the worst part was that they were shallow enough to keep him alive-and he didn’t want to be alive through it. He would rather die.  

The moral trait carved a large bloody heart where Logan’s would be and slit several lines into his stomach. Logan kept is mouth shut and whimpered softly at the agonizing pain going through his entire body. Patton sat on his legs while the cold steel of the blade dragged down his torso and laughed hysterically while he did so.

“Ugh!This won’t do!” Patton yelled, stopping. He zipped up the onesie, catching some loose skin in the zipper, making Logan yelp.

Tugging the side by the hair, Patton shoved him into the kitchen. Logan stumbled and gripped the counter, but still seemed emotionless. At any moment he would pass out from the lack of blood in his body, but Patton had other plans. Once again, he grabbed Logan by the hair and started slamming his face into the counter several times. After about three times, Logan could tell his nose was broken and a few teeth had fallen out but Patton didn’t stop.

Logan still didn’t show any signs of weakness and at this point he would surprise himself if he had the ability to use his mouth anyway.

It goes on for hours, the lit up numbers on the stove only a blur now behind a thick sheet of red over Logan’s eyes. That was all he saw-blood. But what caught him off guard was when Patton whispered soothing phrases to him. His voice sounded nearly normal like the honey-coated tone he had before. He told Logan he knew best and he was only looking out for him.

And he told Logan that he was loved.

Finally, Logan believed him. The bloody-faced side bursted into tears and sobbed as he fell to the floor. The pain in his face only grew worse with his hiccups and attempts at sniffling so he cried out loud. Patton only stood and watched with a smile, staring at the hunched over teacher. He left after a moment, feeling bore and was off to think of the next part of his plan.

Within days, everyone was under Patton’s control. Virgil found that it was useless to use fight or flight anymore. Roman was taking several doses of antidepressants that Patton gave him and was to loopy to understand what was going on. Logan was hidden in his room in fear of the normally lighthearted side. Patton had the fun idea to assemble them all for a lovely little family picture and show the Famders that they were now perfect in every way.

Much to Patton’s displeasure, Logan and Virgil made some mistakes in the picture, not smiling wide enough. Logan’s eyes were glossed over and Virgil felt any type of pain whenever he moved his mouth in the slightest. Roman, on the other hand, didn’t focus. He was easily manipulated and did whatever he was told because it was good for him. Sometime after the picture, they made a video.

The fandom went insane after seeing everyone so unlike themselves. Logan held his head down in despair, some tears rolling down his face. Virgil was nowhere to be seen, leaving an empty and dark stairwell where he once was. Roman hardly spoke about himself, or even spoke at all. He kept his iconic pose and bright smile but everything was off about him. Patton, dear Patton, was taller and filled out compared to everyone. He smiled at his creations happily and explained to the Famders that they were a happy family.

Only after an hour of the video being posted did the theories and fanart come in waves. Patton loved how vigilant his kiddos were and how much they cared. Thomas didn’t even answer to anything anyone said to him, making his friends worry. The host was very emotional and distant and had this false sense of confidence. Patton loved every second of it.

While looking at what the Famders had created, and idea formed in his head. He wasn’t at all the best with technology, but setting up a livestream wasn’t too hard. He had everyone sit on the couch and held his knife  which made them quiver in fear. Thomas was tied up in the corner, preventing any type of movement and his mouth was gagged as well. He screamed behind the cloth and writhed around in the ropes but to no avail. Patton waited til everyone was watching and greeted them.

“Hiya Guys, Gals, and Nonbinary Pals! I thought maybe we could have a little...heart to heart!” He giggles as Logan walks into view, shirtless and his head bowed, showing off the heart shaped scar. “Doesn’t he just look adorable?! He didn’t have much of a heart, so I had to give him one. But don’t worry, Roman’s still the same prince you know and love!”

Roman joins him, posing and smiling arrogantly, but he doesn’t dare speak. It was already clear that he hardly focused on anything, just remembering to smile and hold the iconic position. It made Patton so undeniably happy! His prince was doing just as he said without faltering or hesitating in the slightest.

Patton clapped. “See? Nothing to be afraid of! And don’t you kiddos worry, Virgil won’t be troubling Thomas anymore. Come show them what you got for being mean to Roman, Virgil!” Virgil shuffled into the screen as well, trying to hide his face as much as he could. His scars were swollen and ugly due to the amount of times he tried to rip them out or speak.

“Aren’t they just so sweet? Don’t you just love us so much? As long as you keep the fanart going, they’ll stay alive! You want that don’t you? Welp! Better get to work! Lolo’s chest still looks a little plain don’t you think?” The father side’s eyes darkened. The stream ends with a single wink and him holding the steel knife.

The whole fandom was left distraught, most of them thinking it was just a joke. Patton would never do that would he? Sweet, lovable, Patton wouldn’t harm anyone. If they only knew what happened behind the camera.

After his little finish, he looked at Logan evilly, raising the knife higher. The other tried to run but he was in no way faster than Patton anymore with how much pain he was in and he couldn’t hardly see anything anyway.

Patton had already pinned Logan to the floor and started carving children’s doodles and cute little symbols into his chest.

The said side screamed in agony and tried desperately to get Patton to stop through tears. Thomas stared in horror as did the others. After a few minutes of doing so, he moved onto Roman who faltered a little. He was shocked and his legs didn’t move no matter how much he mentally told them to. He was pulled to the floor; in seconds the knife was pierced through his skin causing him to scream just as loud-if not louder-than Logan did.

He tried scrambling away but all the color drained from his face and the blood from his body. The prince was left a bloody mess on the floor, unable to move. He coughed and blood splurted from his mouth, only scaring Thomas more than he already was. The host was sobbing, begging from behind the gag for Patton to stop hurting them but it was no use.  

Finally, it was Virgil’s turn. The psychotic side conjured a needle and thread and laughed. Tugging him by the jacket, he kept Virgil on the floor with his knees. He used the knife to carve a permanent smile into his face. Virgil whimpered and yelped, but mostly due to the betrayal and sadness he felt. The physical pain was near nothing he felt inside his head and heart.

His eye was forcefully sewed shut, leaving it swollen and bloody. He even was given a few lashings with the blade as a punishment. Like the other two, his face was drained from color and he was a bloody mess on the floor. The anxious trait still laid on his back even after Patton stood. None of them were able to stand by the end of all of it.

Patton admired his work. He smiled at the scene of his kiddos being punished so they can behave. It was music to his ears to hear them all scream when he dragged the sharp knife down their bodies.

But Patton, poor Patton, had missed someone.

He set everyone up while they all groaned in pain. They sat in a small circle, Thomas included-all tied up much to their dismay. Patton conjured a book and in the sweetest voice he could muster, he read aloud to all of them. It wasn’t at all enjoyable for them; it would be very possible in the next few minutes that one of them could fall unconscious and even die.

Little did that lovable father-like side know, a certain liar appeared behind him. A soft gasp escaped his lips when he saw the four in the horrid conditions they were in. This new burning rage filled him immediately. Patton hardly even noticed the soft footsteps walking up behind him until a harsh hand grabbed his shoulder.

The said side was thrown to the wall and held flat against it. Deceit’s yellow eye seemingly glowed under the seething fury he felt. He put a hand to Patton’s throat as if to intimidate him, but even then he considered choking the moral trait.

“What have you done?!” he growled. Patton hardly seemed phased.

“I fixed them,” he stated simply. Deceit figured out quickly that confronting Patton wouldn’t work. It would be impossible to convince him that what he did was faulty. Right then and there he knew he would make a tough decision.

Taking him by the hair and restraining his arms, Deceit took Patton to the Unconscious part of the mind. He locked the said side away where nobody would dare to look. It was dark, gloomy, and filled with nightmarish creatures of all kinds. Patton was put in a cave like cell guarded by a spider-like beast. Deceit knew that if he ever even came to his senses, he would be terrified by the monstrosities down there.

With a final goodbye, Deceit left. Next, he shapeshifts into the animated and happy father. He wasn’t sure what he could do now to help; all he knew was that he was Morality-at least until the others realize that it’s him. It was only now he went to aid the Light Sides and good god, at least he had his work cut out for him. Within seconds, he appears in the living room making them all panic for moment.

He unties them all, removing the gags and bondage all while smiling softly. Virgil instantly sees through the disguise, hardly minding at all. All he cared for was that they were now safe, especially from Patton. He hesitantly touched the stitches on his mouth, letting waterfalls spill over his bloody cheeks. It made it seem as if he was crying the red liquid instead of the salty tears.  

Logan, on the other hand, scrambles away instantly. He was still frightened to death of what had happened. The fresh cuts and open scars were aching and it was a wonder that he could move at all.         

  “Come on Lolo, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Deceit said in Patton’s soft voice,”not anymore.” He opened his arms comfortingly saying,”Hug?”

Logan only stuttered.

 “Y-You made m-me-” he cut himself off. The look in Patton’s eyes-it wasn’t something quite Patton. He took the hug and instantly he relaxed into it, letting a few tears fall. God, it felt so good to feel something that wasn’t torture. It was so warm and genuine and the first piece of genuine affection he’s had in days.

Roman was a bit harder. It would take everything for him to get back to what he was. That was why ‘Patton’ led him to the imagination where a dragon terrorized a village. Deceit gave him his sword saying,”Go.”

With a few slashes and hits, Roman regained his color. It wasn’t the best choice to fight while still injured but the adrenaline was all he needed to beat the winged beast. Even within the haze of his mind, his instincts to conquer and save the village rose and with a blink of his eyes, he grinned a real smile. With a final blow, the dragon fell to the ground and the town cheered, showering him in compliments and affection. Deceit, or ‘Patton’ stood off the the side with a loving smile, watching Roman feel so genuinely happy again. 

And at last it was time to leave.

However, his thoughts were paused with a cold shudder. The imagination had suddenly gotten much cooler. What could’ve caused this?

He rushed back into the living room and Thomas was panicking. Logan and Virgil were sobbing, mumbling several apologies to each other. Deceit watched as Roman appeared, suddenly distraught again; he was crying.

And at that moment Deceit knew something was coming. Something not Light or Dark. Something Immoral….

[ravens-rambling]

Jump out of your skin

A/N:��Aka Roman being an idiot . This was pretty fun to do honestly XD Hope you enjoy!! 

Inspired again by @sanderssidesspook

summary: When Thomas is dared to watch a horror movie by Joan Roman’s pride gets in the way and he couldn’t refuse. 

WC: 1,656

ships: Romantic LAMP

warnings: crying, anxiety attack, blood, knife, mentions of jumpscares, Deceit, gore

Tag List: @punsterterry  @frostedlover

"I don't like this. Why did Thomas agree to this??" Virgil mumbled his hoodie already up to hide his face.

"Because that would show cowardness and Thomas is not a coward! And besides this might be fun! I thought you would enjoy this being a dark emo and all." Roman eagerly said already having a large bowl of popcorn in his lap.

Virgil shook his head, "Well I don't. Who cares about being a coward or not? That rich coming from you." Even though he tried to ride off his growing anxiety and fear it was starting to show in his voice as it was a bit sharper than normal already. That wasn't a good sign at all.

Patton sat next to him wrapping his arms around him so Virgil can dig into his chest as he heard Roman's offended noises. "I don't like this either Virge. Why don't we hide under the blankets to ride this over?"

Virgil nodded curling more into Patton, "Sounds great Pat.."

As they were grabbing some of the blankets they had brought down to hide their faces in Logan sighed loudly from his rocking chair not far away, "Honestly I don't know how anyone would find this scary. I mean a house haunted by a vengeful ghost? Ghost are not real how do people buy into this?"

Virgil poked out of his mound of blankets and glared at him, "Ghosts are indeed real! This is based off a true story after all! Look it says it right on the box."

He pointed to the box that was on the nightstand and Logan sighed even more, "That was obviously a lie to get even more people to watch it-"

"You called?"

They all jumped when a sudden voice piped up and Roman huffed, "Oh get out of here you slippery snake! Go on!"

Deceit glanced towards the TV than at the box on the coffee table and raised an eyebrow. "Well, this doesn't seem fun. Maybe I should stick around..."

Roman stood up growling a bit under his breath, "Nah your leaving. Go we don't want you here!"

Deceit glanced to the others before huffing, "Fine fine geez calm down there any more growling and you'll turn into a lion Princey."

And with that, he dropped out leaving them all to shiver in his wake.

Roman flopped back down on the couch placing an arm around both Patton and Virgil protectively who hasn't said a word during that entire thing. When he glanced over at them he could see that Deceit only added more fuel to the pressing fire.

Leaning forward he placed gentle kisses to their foreheads, "Don't worry I'll protect you for I am the mightiest prince aren't I? He won't come near you guys again."

They both smiled at him Patton giggling and hugging him, "Yes you are Roman! Your the best!"

Logan crossed his arms looking a bit flustered.

Virgil picked up on it and smirked at him, "Aw does the nerd want kisses too? Come here." He made grabby hands as Logan huffed though he stood up and sat right next to Virgil who shook his head, "Nope. On my lap."

That was the only warning Logan got before he had arms wrap around his waist and was pulled into Virgil's lap. Before he could let out a squeak Virgil placed kisses after kisses over Logan's face and neck.

"Aw! He gets all the kisses-" Roman was cut off as they heard the movie start off making them all focus on to the task at hand. Virgil and Patton instantly cuddled into whoever was holding them wanting anything but to see what was on the screen.

The first sound they heard was a loud painful scream causing Patton and Virgil to collectively jump and whimper. Roman and Logan glanced at each other holding them close and sighing. This was gonna be a long few hours...

Every once in a while one of them would look up at the screen and watch a bit of the movie. And every time they would jump as a jumpscare would happen soon after that causing them to shake more. Logan tried to sooth them the best he could by sprouting facts on how none of it could possibly happen in real life while Roman told them even if it did he'll be there to fend them off.

But during one particular scene and that was thrown off the edge. It was one that scared Thomas even more then the entire movie has and in turn Patton, and certainly Virgil. Even Roman and Logan got a spike of fear coursing through them from their host and from themselves though they won't attempt it.

Virgil's shaking got worst and his breath came in short bursts now. He was definitely making Thomas be on a verge of an attack now, which means it would take ages for them all to calm down. If they don't calm him down fast then they all would go into a panic.

"Verge? Can you look at me?"

Virgil slowly, it took a few long seconds, glanced up to Logan tears were in his eyes as the sound of flesh being ripped apart were the only things going through his mind. Patton was already bursting into tears his loud crying filled his ears as well only making his fear that much worse.

Logan placed a hand through Virgil's soft purple hair to try and ground him as much as possible. Roman was too busy trying to calm Patton down so he couldn't help.

"It's okay it's all fake remember? Those are just actors screaming, like what we did for your accepting video you remember that?"

A small nod.

"It's like that and those blood? They are-"

His voice was cut off as another loud scream filled the room and as Virgil looked at the screen he saw body parts all over the cabin and what looked to be a young girl with an eerily familiar face holding a bleeding knife in her hand he swore he could see yellow in those eyes. His eyes went wide as they all heard Thomas scream and they could even feel Thomas shaking now. All he could do was let out a shaky whine and dig his face and hands more into Logan. His breathing was becoming more rapid and his shaking only grew in volume.

What really made him even more scared was when he didn't hear anything from Logan again after a few minutes, surely he would be trying to comfort him again right?

But when he glanced up he could see that Logan was opening and closing his mouth only for nothing to come out, only breaths of air.

Gulping he pulled away from Logan, he knew what that meant, he was becoming too powerful. He was silencing Logan and in turn influencing Thomas into a panic attack. Through his fear, he didn't even realize that the sounds from the TV stopped as Joan stopped the movie.

Virgil tried to get to the stairs wanting to not hurt them even more but he found arms wrapping around him slowing turning around he saw it was Patton who was still crying and hasn't stopped crying for well over the hour. "V-Verge it's okay. I-Its not..your fault." He managed to say through his sobs.

Right after that, he felt more arms around him and he saw it was Logan. He smiled gently and gazed at him with gentle eyes letting him know he was fine.

Next came Roman who wrapped them tightly into a bear hug, "Joan turned off the movie it's alright Virgil. I'm sorry for making you sit through that, you too Patton. I..shouldn't have let my pride get in my way."

As Virgil glanced over their shoulders to see that indeed the movie was turned off that made him feel somewhat better. And being in the arms of his boyfriends slowly calmed him down, it made him feel safe and protected.

After some time of Joan attempting to calm down Thomas and the sides calming down both Patton and Virgil Logan realized he could finally speak again.

Coughing a bit he shook his head, "Please don't do something as stupid like that again Roman. Think better next time."

Roman stuck out his tongue as they tried to slowly go back to the couch, "Oh I already apologized. Why couldn't you have stayed silent longer? It was very peaceful you know that?"

Patton still was clinging to Virgil side but he lightly hit Logan and Roman's arms, "Hey no fighting you two. I don't know about you guys but I'm in the mood for a cheery Halloween movie how does that sound, kiddos?"

That sounded like music to Virgil's ears as he eagerly nodded though now he was drained he knew he couldn't stay awake for even a single movie.

As they settled into the couch Roman summoning more blankets as Logan went to their movie collection rummaging through it. Patton and Virgil didn't move an inch from their pile of limbs they have made and slowly cuddling up into the mound of blankets once again.

"What movie are you picking Logan?" Virgil piped up from Patton's chest.

Logan turned around with a grin on his face and hit play making it way to their cuddling pile. "Something I know you'll like."

And as the familiar tuns of The Nightmare Before Christmas started up causing Virgil to grin and snuggle up even more Roman came over with steaming cups of hot chocolate causing Patton to squeal in joy.

And as Virgil snuggled into his boyfriends' snuggle pile, even more, he couldn't help but smile brighter. Sure he couldn't handle horror movies. And sure he was a bit..much to deal with sometimes but in the arms of his boyfriends he felt..happy. Content with where he is right at this moment.

[thefearofcod]

☆Writer Asks☆

This was a ‘Get to know the author’ meme on twitter. Originally, you were supposed to answer a question if you got so many likes, but screw that. Let me just answer this ALL for you and tag some of my writing friends. 

1. Explain your AO3 handle.

It’s my old tumblr handle, I should probably change it. (bottlecapmermaid)

2. Favorite fanfiction trope?

For kylux, DEFINITELY galactic empire aus, or other politically-charged things. I love aus, I collect them like a dragon.

3. Favorite place to write?

curled up on the couch like a scrunchy gremlin, or longhand at a desk because i am an old man.

4. Favorite ships in your current fandom?

THE K Y L U X. I love trash. I love awful men. I love space. I love villains. This hole was made for me. My other, non-star war ships are Queequeg/Ishmael (Moby-Dick), Sly Blue/Mink (dmmd lmao i’m from the past), Parian/Foil (Worm), Kanda/Lavi (d.gray man)

5. What are your steps to get into the Writing Mood™?

I don’t have a Writing Mood, i usually have at least an hour to kill and an idea chewing on my brain for a few days. Then I start it, stare at it, and then work on it for about 70 years 

6. What program/app do you use to write?

gdocs on everything, or else I longhand and transcribe it when I really hate myself.

7. List your zodiac sign, favorite ice cream flavor, Hogwarts House, and your opinion on pineapple pizza.

libra, coffee, slytherin, if it’s not spicy i’ll eat it.

8. Link us a fanfic that made you cry.

Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo by @heyktula is one of my FAVORITE fics and it FUCKED ME WAY UP I LOVE IT, i got so fucking!! invested!!!! in Ben’s shitty life choices and Hux being so FUCKING GODDAMN MEAN and yes i cried ok i can admit it

9. Link us a fanfic that made you laugh.

I don’t really search out humor, but guys please understand that the following is one of the most beautiful things i have ever seen and it moves me to tears every time i see it, which is often because i read it when i am feeling poorly: Cannibal Rumpus Asshole Factory

10. Link us a fanfic that left you in complete awe at the writer’s ability.

yeah i link it every time but nobody said i had to stick to one fandom so HERE’S BLUTRUNST AGAIN KIDDOS. I laughed. I cried. I learned to cook. I overanalyzed a painting. I developed a deep and abiding crush on a leper. I was and still am hot for every main character in this fic. I got obsessed with Bluebeard. I learned to go to the opera every chance I get. @incurablenecromantic improved my life in ever-evolving ways with this fic and I will never fuck off about it. Fuck dude i love this heckin book so much 

11. List your kinks.

Gore, power imbalances, blood, choking, knives, gore, poor life choices, cannibalism, emperor Hux.

12. How do you come up with your ideas?

I make a joke and then riff on it for a while, and then realize to my total horror that I am now serious. This is how I create nearly everything. 

13. How do you implement said ideas into a cohesive narrative?

Very bold of you to assume I do at all! I don’t really write longform fic, so I usually just do either riffs on fairy tales or brief and wanky psychological pieces. I have an emperor Hux thing in the works and it’s gonna be long and i’m like who are you and how did you get in my house. Probably my best bet is to do a series of related one shots.

14. What are your working on right now? Share a little snippet or a description.

I’m a WIP monster so i have roughly 700 things going, but please take this funky fresh piece of Emperor Hux funtimes:

And before him on the white steps of the dais kneels Kylo Ren. His robes are his customary black but finer stuff than usual, thick raw silk, not worn ragged and stinking of the gore of his enemies. There is a time and a place for a shambling giant caked in blood and filth, but Hux’s coronation is not it.

“Kylo Ren,” Hux says, even and magnanimous, “do you swear your loyalty to the service of the empire?” On pain of death goes unsaid. Hux does not need Ren to hunt down those who betray him.

Ren’s eyes, when he looks up from Hux’s, are wet and shiny with relief. “I swear myself to the Emperor, his Imperial Majesty,” he replies, voice unusually steady.

“I accept your fealty, Master of the Knights of Ren.” At this point, the Knights are mostly Hux’s personal ghosts, carrying out assassinations and coups where he or Ren cannot. He can’t see them from his vantage now, but he knows a couple are in the crowd, subtly armed to the teeth in case of unrest, and the rest are in whatever scraps of shadow they can find. Hux extends his gloved right hand, gold ring flashing in the light.

But instead of kissing the ring, Ren lowers his head again and slowly, deliberately bows until his lips press against the shined toe of Hux’s boot.

Such flagrant acting out would ordinarily warrant punishment, but Hux’s first act as Emperor cannot be to kick his terrifying right hand in the face in front of the whole galaxy. Even a display of devotion like this, always welcome behind closed doors, is not what Hux outlined for Ren and is, as such, disobedience. Ren must know this, and must know that Hux knows. However loyal Ren is, part of his nature is to push and strain against boundaries, even when he has no idea what he would do upon breaking them.

Tagging: @a-flickering-soul, @causticchemist and uh anyone else who might like

[thedistantstorm]

A Shipwright Worth Her Salt Chapter 03

He had continued popping in on her from time to time between missions, over the next eighteen months. Slowly, surely, she had converted the devastated house that was her little shelter into a workshop of sorts. Inconspicuous on the outside, but the inside housed two sawhorses, an innumerable amount of tools, and quite a few parts that were littered around the rest of the space. Mostly guardians popped in and out for repairs that couldn’t wait, or those who were short on glimmer came by to propose a trade for scrap that was hard to get within the city walls or other goods she required, though a few civilians also came by with broken radios, trackers, and comm devices. She’d managed the funds to pick up a few broken data tablets, and repair them to functionality.

It always impressed him, watching her work. He hadn’t let her work on his sparrow way back when, but at present, she had an old one balanced between the saw horses, and was working on its engine with practiced ease, though she said it was her first, and it was a salvage she’d purchased - just in case she broke something beyond repair. She was pragmatic and practical, and he had to admire her tenacious personality when it came to learning new things. Her skill with Golden Age tech was undeniable, and on occasion, he would tell her so.

His ghost was particularly enamored, practically adopting the girl as her own, speaking to her quite frequently when it was only the three of them. “She’s gonna have to raise prices at this rate. I heard a few of the new hunters say she’s got a week turn-around now.”

“Yeah, what’s with them breaking everything all the time?” She wiped sweat from her brow and looked up at the pair at his ghost’s snort. “I’ve only seen two warlocks, and they said the only reason their stuff is broken is because of a hunter on their squad.”

“Fireteam,” Zavala replied. “They’re called a fireteam.”

“Ah. You have one?”

“Of sorts, usually we go on missions with different guardians each time. However, some guardians have a specific team they prefer. I find myself working with Shaxx, and our mentor, Lord Saladin.”

“Titans tend to stick together,” She replied, tightening one of the bolts to the chassis after closing the engine compartment. She’d heard tidbits about the Iron Lord through her rapidly increasing clientele. “I think I like them best.”

Zavala couldn’t help but smile. A warm feeling washed over him as he asked, “Do you now?”

She nodded. “Yeah. You’re like knights in shining armor. Literally.”

She can tell he likes the comment, because his ghost spins around him and gushes, “Look at you, big guy, you’re blushing. Haven’t seen that in a while. Good work, kiddo.” He swats at her shell in a half-hearted attempt, clearing his throat as he does so.

Amanda can’t help but smile. “They gonna send you out any time soon?”

He shrugs. “One can never tell. I think I’ll be making a run to one of the settlements outside the Cosmodrone soon, to pick up supplies.”

“Like, a flight?”

He nods.

“D’ya think - nah, nevermind.”

“It won’t be my jumpship,” he says, as though she hasn’t just tried to ask. He knows what she wants. Even his ghost has mentioned it to him. They can see it in her eyes, whenever one of them shares a story about a run to the other side of the globe or, on occasion, another planet. “It’s a transport ship.” He reclines back on the workbench, propping his upper back against one of the outlying walls, before casting his eyes downward to gaze at her intently. “Plenty of room for stowaways.”

She drops the wrench in her hand and it clatters noisily to the floor. He jerks at the sound. Her eyes are blown wide and glassy with what terrifies him to think are tears. “You mean it?”

He feels the brush of his ghost in the back of his mind. No going back on this one, Guardian. You’ll crush her. She’s conscientious not to say it out loud, but he can see the serious gaze of her optics.

“Yes,” he nods, and is surprised by the tightness of his own voice.

The little girl rushes toward him, throwing her arms around his neck and pushing her face into his cheek. His arms come around her and he hears her litany of gratitude in a breathless mumble into the side of his face. She’s smiling and crying and the force of her emotions are too much for him to do much more than hold her tightly in response and hope he hasn’t just made a terrible decision.

-/

Naturally, he had.

The second he touches down in Old Russia, he sees what’s left of the few guardians fighting against throngs of Hive enemies. His cheery co-pilot, eager to learn and so excited to come along gasps and shakes at the sight of the gore. He bangs his fist on the console as he takes them down, cursing his abandonment of the rules. It’s the first time he’s bent them for a civilian, and he realizes that it may cost her her life if he doesn’t put this situation to rights quickly.

“I am going to put this ship down, and you will stay in here. If you hear activity on the ship and it is not me, hide under the control panel and hit this button,” he points to a green flashing light on the control panel, “to alert my ghost.”

At that, his ghost bobs in the affirmative. “All will be well, co-pilot. Just got to stop some baddies, pick up the supplies, and then we’ll get this hunk of metal back to the city.”

Zavala casts a glance at his ghost. She’s oddly maternal toward the girl, but he’s not about coddling her on matters like these; Amanda knows about the dangers of what lies outside the Last City. The anxious spin of her shell tells him she knows she’s embellishing. This won’t be an easy mission for them, if the welcome party is any indication.

Once she’s alone, Amanda re-thinks everything she’s ever though on the Fallen being the most frightening of Earth's invaders. The Hive are truly terrifying. She’ll never un-hear the scream of the Wizard she sees plummet past the ship and above the throng of Hive, or be able to un-see the Thrall mowing down fighters. Above all, she’s terrified for her friend. He’s told her before in no uncertain terms that guardians don’t die like regular folk. But, if something tears you limb from limb, Amanda doesn’t see how a person can come back from that, blue skin, glowing eyes and fists, or otherwise.

She clicks on the radio in the cockpit - Zavala had immediately turned it off the second he realized what was happening on the ground - and listens to the gunfire and screams at close range. She hears him yelling directions, taking control of the other guardians, and forces herself to stay calm. He’ll save as many people as he can, and be fine himself.

She knows it.

-/

“Amanda, Amanda, you there?”

The voice over the radio sounds an awful lot like Zavala’s ghost. She flicks the switch on the input. “I’m here.”

“Open up the bay door, you know which button?”

She leans forward and flips a red toggle. The radio crackles with static as the hydraulics whir to life.

“Good girl,” The ghost says gently. “Supplies are transmatting. I’ll close it when it’s done on this end.”

“Where’s Zavala?”

“Had to split up get into range. He’s coming.” Amanda can’t help but notice the almost tinny quality of her voice. She sounded exhausted. Did ghosts get tired from fighting? They didn’t actually fight, that much she knew. “I’m going to go back to him. We have most of the threat contained, once the rest of the guardians get to their jumpships, we’ll be good to go.”

There’s a few moments of anxiety before she hears the roaring of jumpships, and then she sees six of them take off into the sky. She doesn’t see Zavala or fighting, though she’s managed to toggle the radar and can see a whole army of them swarming further away.

A bloody palm slaps against the window of the cockpit and she screams.

“No, no, open the door Amanda, it’s us!” His ghost pops into view, exasperated.

Despite her panic she manages to click open the door to the cockpit. The ghost flits over to her as Zavala manages to pull himself inside, practically collapsing into the seat. He looks at her with dull eyes, practically unseeing.

“Zavala! You’re hurt!” She says in a hushed voice, her eyes wide and horrified.

He opens his mouth to respond but only blood leaks out, “Ahhm,” he coughs before going still.

“Zavala!” She screams. “Zavala! No, no, no. Not again, not again!”

“Amanda.” His ghost is calm, though her voice sounds tired. “It’s okay.”

She reaches for his wrist, and feels for a pulse. There isn’t one. She releases it and pushes his head to one side in an attempt to feel his pulse that should be thrumming on the underside of his jaw.

“Amanda!”

“He’s dead,” she whimpers, sobs bubbling from her throat. “I - I thought guardians couldn’t die,” She says between muffled sobs.

“Amanda Holliday, listen to me.”

The girl looks up at the ghost, her shell spinning furiously. “I need you to buckle him in, and get this ship off the ground. Can you do that?”

“I-”

“There’s no time to doubt yourself. There are people counting on us to get these supplies to safety. Can you do it?”

Swiping at her eyes and steeling herself, she nods.

Buckling the Titan in is a challenge. He's dead weight (she tries not to focus on the dead part, despite hearing her heartbeat in her ears chanting dead - dead - dead with each pump of blood she gets that he doesn't) and when she pulls the harness over his head it tips forward onto her shoulder. She leaves it there while she finishes pulling the bottom part of the buckle from under his leg and buckles it with a bit of difficulty. There’s blood dripping from his mouth down her shirt, as well as frothy saliva, but she swallows down a gag and puts a hand on each of his cheeks, shoving him back against the headrest so that he’s propped up. She clambers up on his knees quickly, giving him a peck on the forehead and a quick hug before returning to her seat and buckling in, unable to stop herself. Just in case she doesn't get a chance later to say goodbye.

“There are an army of Hive headed towards the ship. We have to be off the ground before they get to us,” His ghost is beginning to glow. “I can rez him while you fly.”

“Rez?”

“Resurrect. No time to explain the how. I can't rez and pilot this thing at the same time.”

Swallowing her gasp at the prospect of the little ghost bringing him back, Amanda the switches to start the engines and and grips the lever that toggles the landing gear, pulling it as she pushes forward the thrusters. She’s only watched Zavala do it on the way there, and tried her best to commit everything to memory. Hopefully she had.

The ghost’s shell seems to be pushed away, as she lights up, core spinning with that blue glow like his fists had, that time he saved her from the fallen. She sways back and forth as she does her work.

Their takeoff is shaky, she can hear the sound of gunfire against the hull, and the supplies rattle around in the back of the ship. She gulps, and pushes the thrusters harder. It’s enough to jolt her back in her seat, and she grips the steering control hard to keep it from wavering further. The ship hurdles forward, just in time for her to see arriving ships. Their armor is that dark purple and orange that signify the Fallen, and a bang of a ship’s lazer against the shields causes Zavala’s ghost to shutter and her core to dim for a moment in distraction.

“Oh no,” the ghost says, already beginning to glow as she recollects herself. “This is going to be a rough one.”

“For him or for me?” Amanda quips.

“The both of you.” She sets back to work as the girl attempts to steer around the rapidly approaching Fallen vessels while thwarting any stray shots from the Hive at her back. “I’m not usually interrupted while bringing him back,” The ghost’s voice is laiden with strain. “And we rezzed so many on the field that I’ve barely got the energy.”

Amanda didn’t look, couldn’t look away from the scene ahead of her to see what was happening with all of the blue light. She had to get them out of here. “I’m guessing you’re both gonna need a good rest after this one.”

The ghost laughed, her partner igniting with the blue ripples of arc energy. “Yeah,” she said, as he gasped for breath, coughing out the remains of blood and ichar in his lungs, his eyes staying shut though he was very definitely breathing. The ghost settled down onto his shoulder, nestled between his neck, shoulder, and the back of the headrest, her optics dim and indicative of her exhaustion. “You’re not kidding,” she said, before her light died down to a very muted blue.

Amanda chanced a glance between evasive maneuvers, figuring that was the ghost’s ‘standby’ mode, of sorts. At least she hoped. Zavala’s chest moved up and down, like he was sleeping, and she prayed to the Traveler looming half-covered by the horizon she’d be able to get the ship back without trouble.

Flying felt second nature to her, even if the ship felt wide and less responsive than the ones she piloted in her dreams. She wasn't really keen on the bits where she was fired at, but as she barreled in a quick spiral to avoid one ship and dodge the blast from another, she decided that it could have gone worse.

It took an hour to stop seeing the Fallen ships, and she made sure to check the radar and satellite data to make sure they were on course and not being followed, adjusting her course slightly to keep making time. The jump-ships she’d seen leave were much faster than this transport, so she kept an eye out for any blips on the radar to indicate another vessel headed their way, and settled in for the long haul. It’d be at least another eight hours before they’d see lands she was familiar with, if the ride there was any indication.

-/

When he woke, it was not to gunfire and calamity like he’d expected. He was used to this sensation, the slight bit of memory loss associated with a difficult resurrection. Though something nagged at him, it was just slightly out of reach. His consciousness blinked out, though his thoughts remained.  He’d been doing something, transporting civilians - no, something else - and -

“Cargo transport ship zero - three - two requesting airspace clearance. Vanguard authorization code eight - six - two - seven,” His ghost rattles off. “Closing in on the EDZ, estimated arrival time two and a half hours.”

The radio crackled. “Authorization granted. You’re making good time,” Came the reply of a female guardian. “See you landside.”

“Aashima,” He breathes his ghost’s name, not quite opening his eyes yet.

Said ghost flutters directly into his peripheral as he does, tutting softly. “It’s about time you joined us.”

“Us? I -” He lurches forward, awake now, almost headbutting her as he does. She stutters backward and allows him to gather his bearings. The cockpit is dark, and the sky in front of him even more so, the Milky Way prominent against the stars. He looks to his right. She’s not making eye contact, instead, scanning the radar and pushing gently on the thrusters to move forward, sweeping her gaze across the horizon.

“Glad you’re back,” Amanda says, when he shakes out the stiffness in his joints. “Gave me a scare,” she continues, softer.

A hard look in his ghost’s direction has her speaking quickly. “What do you last remember?”

He gives the girl a pointed look, then looks back at Aashima.

“You got into that seat and croaked on us,” Amanda said when no one spoke. “Aashima - that’s your name right? Never heard ‘em use it before,” She jerked her thumb up at the ghost, who bobbed in the affirmative. “Aashima used her light to bring you back while I out flew the Hive’s guns and a couple’a Fallen ships -”

“Couple?”

“More like half a dozen,” The ghost provided brightly and Zavala groaned.

“...And half-rezzed you,” She looked to the ghost again for clarification on the new term, “But she got interrupted ‘cause the shields got a little battered ‘n it jolted her pretty good.”

“I… see…” He sighed, alert enough now to be concerned. “Does anyone else happen to know that Amanda’s piloting this ship?”

“Nope,” Both girl and ghost say at the same time.

“As far as the Vanguard is concerned, I’ve been piloting it the whole time you’ve been out. Nothing happened, right?” The ghost’s optics flicker over to Amanda who shakes her head.

“Nah, I outran the Fallen, flipped off the seatbelt sign once we got high enough and have been doing my best to make good time. When you came to, I was just gettin’ out of the cradle.”

The ghost and guardian exchanged a glance. The ghost hummed sheepishly while the guardian asked, “We were both out?”

Amanda shrugged. “Yea, but it wasn’t a big deal. Everything’s fine back there, I pulled up a visual once we were out of hostile airspace.” She cues it up again for him to confirm, stifling a yawn as she does. He does the math. They’ve been in the air for at least six hours, and she hadn’t slept the whole way there in her excitement. It's been at least a day that she's been awake, under stress and on high alert at that. She’s a girl, not a soldier.

He reaches for the controls. “I’ll take it from here, if you’d like to rest.” She nods, and he can’t help but feel guilty that he’s been unconscious for the last however many hours - long enough that the girl is actually tired. It hits him hard to realize that if she hadn’t been there, it’s possible he might not have made it out, or at the very least, he’d still be there waiting to be rezzed while the Hive thinned out and retreated back to their holes.

Her hand reaches over to his arm and squeezes before she curls up as best she can with the harness on. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” She says, green eyes serious. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Aashima waits until she’s done a scan to confirm the girl is asleep to speak. “This was kind of a disaster. I didn’t know if she’d be able to pull through. She hesitated pretty hard when you died. Really thought I’d have to try and fly this thing, and we both know I’m a bad pilot.”

He hums. “We are lucky to have had her with us. And even luckier that she did.”

“She’s a natural flyer,” Aashima gushed, lowering her speaker’s volume. “And so young. I’ll have to run the log when we get back. I really don’t know how she got past all of them with this bucket of bolts.”

“Perhaps she’ll be the best pilot in the solar system someday.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little too far? She’s good, especially for it being her first time, but one cargo mission doesn’t make her the future hopeful for ‘best pilot in the galaxy.’”

Zavala hums, and turns his gaze on the sleeping girl. Something tells him he’s not far off.

Note: The name I’ve chosen for Zavala’s ghost - Aashima - is an Islamic name, meaning ‘limitless protector, guardian, defendant.’  I thought it was fitting, considering the number of times the ghosts actually rez their guardians. I’ve seen other fics use different names, and didn’t want to steal anyone else’s ideas. If anyone comes across info on his ghost’s name or gender (I’m assuming female, here), please feel free to assist. I envision his ghost to be a bit like Sagira (with less snark), and for she and Zavala to be a bit more dependent on each other.

[donghyxns]

Kagome Kagome

characters: 2jae (youngjae x jaebum)

word count: 3,572

summary: youngjae went missing in 1988, present day Jaebum goes looking for him

genre: horror/ angst

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE EASILY AFFECTED BY GORE AND SCARY THINGS!! I have also written this on wattpad before so if it seems familiar that is why

Youngjae was walking through the dark forest with a flickering flashlight. He heard a bird crow making him shout in fear and almost trip over a berry bush.

“Good Job, Youngjae. You had to take this dare and now you are lost in the woods not knowing where anything is.” Youngjae whispered to himself. A few hours before this moment the brown headed boy was playing truth or dare with his friend, Jinyoung. Youngjae picked ‘truth’ first but Jinyoung called him a loser, making him change to ‘dare’. “I dare you to go into the abandoned school house and not come out until the sun rises.” Jinyoung laughs evilly at his brilliant dare. Youngjae sighed heavily but agreed, not wanting to seem like a child. And here he was. Lost. He didn’t know where the school house was, Jinyoung just gave him a general direction, some water and food, and a dying flashlight.Youngjae was intensely scared at the moment. He heard another bird crow, this time making him drop his flashlight. The drop affected the flashlight making it flicker more. Suddenly his flashlight went out, making the boy shout and drop the apparatus. Youngjae pulls his backpack off his body and tries to look for batteries, but feels absolutely nothing other than a bar of something and a jug of warm water.

“What the fuck, Jinyoung! You couldn’t even give me fucking batteries?” Youngjae cries out in the dark forest. Youngjae sits down on the ground covered in leaves. He sticks his hand back in the backpack in between his legs and pulls out a chocolate bar. He furrows his eyebrows and rummages through the backpack more.

“And all you give me for food is a chocolate bar? FUCK YOU, PARK JINYOUNG.” Youngjae screams out in frustration.

It feels like hours have passed since Youngjae’s flashlight went out. He groans in anger but then he hears footsteps behind him. Instinctively, he jumps up in fear.

“Who is there? Jinyoung, is it you?” Youngjae asks with trembles running through his body. He hears a deep laugh and that is all he needs to grab his backpack and start running through the woods. He weaves through the trees and ducks bushes. When he tries to weave through another bush the thorns catch his arm, making it bleed over the backpack strap.When he gets to the creek, he decides to throw the backpack in the water as it was dragging him down. When he gets back on land he runs for another 2 minutes but his foot catches a root in the ground making him fall forward and scraping his hands.

“Fuck.” When he tries to stand up, he looks forward and sees a big school building in front of him. He laughs quietly in victory and stands up. He enters the mildewy building and coughs at how dusty it is.

He walks down the hallway but comes to a door with the words “TURN BACK” on them. He rolls his eyes and laughs. Youngjae has seen enough horror movies, but he could tell this was done with ketchup. He turns the doorknob and he is met with 3 males sitting there in the school desks like they were waiting for their teacher to appear.

“What the actual fuck,” Youngjae shouts when one of the tall ones walk up to him and grabs his hand. The tall male has bright red hair, blood dripping down his head, and worms crawling in-and-out of his skin.

“We have been waiting for you.” They all talk at the same time except for the one who has Youngjae’s hand.He rips it out of the male's grip and sits down in a school chair. Youngjae’s breathing gets heavier and heavier as time goes on.

“What happened to you guys.” He asks in fright.  They laugh bitterly but look over to a blonde male, making him stand up to explain. ”The same thing that will happen to you. We told you to turn back but you stayed here! You need to be punished!” The male has blonde hair and is less damaged than the other two there. His skin is perfect but he has a missing ear and he is missing his left hand. Bugs are infesting the open wound, making Youngjae gag when he smells it.

“Boys,” A male with a white coat on walks in the door. Youngjae realizes the voice is the same he heard in the forest a while back. Youngjae stands up suddenly, making the chair behind him screech. “We need to introduce ourselves to the young male here.”

The tall male with red hair stands up first and smiles, revealing he has no tongue. The doctor, if you could even call him that, nods at the male letting him sit down.

“That is Yugyeom.” The doctor speaks for him. Youngjae wants to ask what happened to his tongue but holds back the comment, not wanting to be rude. The blonde male walks up to Youngjae and grabs his face with his right hand, “I’m Mark,” Mark leans down to act like he is giving Youngjae a kiss on the cheeks when he whispers, “You should have turned back.” Youngjae looks up in fright and Mark blinks away what looks like tears to Youngjae.

A skinny male hops up to Youngjae and puts out his hand, “I’m BamBam.” Youngjae shakes the hand again not wanting to be rude. Bambam has a missing foot but other than that, he looks completely normal. The doctor stands up after Bambam takes his seat.

“How are you guys still alive? I mean, you are missing your body parts. I-“ Youngjae asks in confusion.

“These males have been tested on and they will live forever in here, they are kind of like ghosts. Mark over here, despite his pretty face, has been here since 1876. Yugyeom has been here since 1947 and Bambam is our newest addition after you. He got here in 1978 and you are getting here in 1985.” Youngjae’s body shutters with sobs after he realizes there will be no hope of him getting out.

‘Fuck you, Park Jinyoung.” Youngjae thinks bitterly.

“Let’s play a game with our new visitor,” The doctor laughs loudly making the other boys cringe,”It is called Kagome, Kagome. You will have a blindfold on and we will circle you singing this song when the song ends you will have to guess who is behind you. If you get it wrong, you get a body part cut off and if you get it right, you get a body part cut off.” The doctor laughs loudly. Youngjae looks at the three males in fear but they can’t help him. He should have taken the warning seriously. The doctor grabs Youngjae’s shoulders harshly, shoving him on his knees in the middle of the floor. While he is being blindfolded, tears stream out of his eyes.

“Kagome, Kagome, Please don’t try to run from us. Circle You, Circle You, What games we will play, can I guess? Before the moon sets again You can play with us until then! Circle You, Circle you, Who surrounds you everywhere?” They chant the song 2 times before Youngjae has to decide.

“Youngjae, who is behind you?” The doctor speaks out harshly. Youngjae lets out a loud sob before answering.

“Yu-Yugyeom?” He stutters if fright. The doctor claps loudly.

“Correct! What body part should we cut off, Yugyeom?” Youngjae can’t see what Yugyeom his pointing to but he knows no matter what it will be bad.

“He chose your eye! Left or Right, Yugyeom? Ah, he said right! Hope you have good vision in your left.” Youngjae screams loudly when the doctor pulls off his blindfold and sees the tools displayed in front of his eyes. Youngjae tries to stand up but Bambam grabs his shoulders before he can even get up.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” Youngjae screams in horror.

“No can do, buddy. We gave you a warning but you shrugged it off. I’m trying to save you kids but you won’t take my fucking warnings, that’s your fault, right?” Mark says bitterly to Youngjae who is sobbing loudly.

“You are right, Mark. You know better than anyone how much of a terrible person I am. Can you keep Youngjae’s right eye open for me, kiddo?” The doctor says while cleaning off the tool he is going to use.

“Sure, doc. Bam and Yugyeom keep him still, I only have one hand to do this with.” Mark orders solidly to the younger boys. Youngjae struggles, but to no avail he was stationary.

The doctor walks over to Youngjae and smiles, “You should have listened to Mark, kiddo.” He says as he puts the scoop in Youngjae’s eye socket. Youngjae screamed loudly in pain as his eye was being forcefully scooped out.

“AHHHHH LET ME GO, PLEASE I’M ONLY 19.” Youngjae screams in pain and desperation which make Bambam laugh bitterly, remembering for his 19th birthday how he came here, he never got to say goodbye to his mom or siblings in Thailand. Youngjae’s statement makes Mark shutter in sadness, thinking about how his family probably died thinking he was dead but he was still here as the 23-year-old he left as. Yugyeom looks up at the ceiling, holding back his tears thinking about his mother he left 38 years ago.

“All done, what do you think, kids?” The doctor says motioning towards Youngjae’s lack of an eye. They all smile and sit in the back of the class. The doctor grabs Youngjae to sit him up.

“Time to do some testing.” The doctor vocalized while putting an eye patch over the younger males bleeding eye.

“Dad, tell about the forest story again,” Jackson says with curiosity lacing his voice. Jaebum looks over to Jackson in confusion to which Jackson smiles.

“I was 21 and my friend was 19. We were being stupid and playing truth or dare. He answered truth in the beginning but I called him a loser, so in the end, he chose dare.” Jackson’s dad sighs, clear that he was sad.

“I told him to sleep in the abandoned school house in the forest and I would get him in the morning, but when I went the abandoned school all I saw was blood and an eyeball.     No Youngjae. He told me ‘Jinyoung, I really don’t want to do this.’ but I was stupid and made him do it.” Jinyoung wipes his tears, not wanting to look weak in front of Jackson’s friend.

“Didn’t you find his backpack in the creek with blood on it later?” Jackson inquires. Jinyoung nods slightly, looking over to the corner where his friends backpack used to lay before he got rid of it in 1988. Jaebum nods slightly, feeling bad for the young Youngjae that he never met. He has seen pictures of him, only because his mom used to date him and never really got over his death.

“Jaebum? Come on, let’s go.” Jackson waves a hand in front of Jaebum’s face.

Jaebum snaps back to reality, “Oh? Okay.”

“Don’t you think it is kind of depressing about what happened to Youngjae?” Jaebum inquiries to the Younger male. Jackson looks up and shakes his hand.

“I mean, yeah it is. But it is in the past, you know?” Jackson replies eating his ice cream. Jaebum suddenly stops walking and turns towards Jackson.

“Let’s go to the school house.” Jackson furrows his eyebrows in discomfort.

“Hell no. I am not dying at the age of 22. Not today.” Jackson shakes his head to which Jaebum steadily laughs.

“We should go see what Youngjae saw. I want to see if I can find him myself.” Jackson looks up quickly to look at his idiotic friend.

“Bro, what the fuck? My dad went there with the police, the fucking police! All they saw was blood smeared down the hallway and an eyeball that matched perfectly with Youngjae’s eye color. Then later my dad found his backpack with blood on it, which tested to be Youngjae’s, in a creek. You are not going to find that kid- well old man now.” Jackson rants throwing his empty ice cream bowl in the trash.

“I am going. Tonight.” Jaebum whispers making Jackson throw his head back and groan.

“Jaebum, no you aren’t!”

“If I am not back by,” Jaebum looks at the digital clock programmed on his phone,”1:30 AM, call the police and come look for me.” It was only 10:42 PM. Nothing bad could happen in 2 and a half hours, Jaebum thinks to himself.

“Do you even know where the school is?” Jackson inquiries looking at his best friend with sad eyes.

“No.”

“My dad has a map, come on. We are going to my house to get ready.” Jackson continues walking down the street to lead Jaebum back to his house.

 “No! You are not going to that building.” Jinyoung yells at Jaebum to which Jaebum scoffs loudly.

“You aren’t my dad. Come on, what if I find Youngjae holed up in a classroom? We could have a proper funeral for him.” Jaebum reasons with the old male.

“What if you die like Youngjae did? How would I face your mother ever again? You know the three of us were inseparable. I couldn’t tell her that her son died the same way her boyfriend did.”

Jaebum grabs the backpack Jackson put together for him and sighs. He looks over to Jinyoung and smiles while saying,”You won’t have to worry. I am strong, I could fend off a murderer. Unlike whatever Youngjae could do.”

“Don’t speak ill of him like that. Dad is really testy about him.” Jackson whispers to his friend quietly while rummaging through drawers to find a map of the forest.

“Did you pack him more than just a chocolate bar?” Jinyoung trembles while asking this question to Jackson. Jackson looks up hastily and laughs loudly.

“Yeah, why?”

“No reason.”

When the three males arrive at the entrance of the forest, Jinyoung shutters with the painful memories of his friend walking in there and never coming back.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jinyoung asks with apprehension lacing his voice. Jaebum nods and runs his hands through his hair. Jaebum opens the car door to step out but is stopped by the sound of Jackson’s voice.

“Remember we are getting you at 1:30. You can still change the time.” Jackson’s voice trembles in worry for his friend.

“No need,” Jaebum whispers finally stepping out in the cold atmosphere.

“Be careful, okay?” Jinyoung shouts to Jaebum who is walking towards the forest with a flashlight. Jaebum turns around to give a small smile and wave which makes Jackson sobs, scared it will be the last time he sees his best friend.

Jaebum walks through the lonely forest with trembling legs. He has been walking for 15 minutes but still cannot find this building. He takes station at a creek to look at his map but remembers Jackson telling him they found Youngjae’s backpack in a creek.

“Maybe, I should keep following this way,” Jaebum whispers to himself and trudges through the murky water. Finally, he reached land, but he had to continue to walk. When Jaebum was looking at his map, his foot hit something solid that made him look up. He saw a building and looked over the side which looked like it used to have a plate to state what it was. He continued walking forward. He saw a shoe locker room and concluded this was the abandoned school house.

“This isn’t that bad,” Jaebum whispers lightly to himself. Jaebum continues to walk forward to which he is suddenly met with a hallway. He decides to walk down it but doesn’t pay much attention to the rooms beside him.

"Help me." Jaebum hears a faint whisper as he walks down the old school house with mildew dripping from its walls. Jaebum whips his whole body around to see a fragile boy sitting on the ground, blood pouring out of his head. "What happened to you?" Jaebum stutters while slowly walking towards the young looking boy. "I was tested on." The boy raises his head and Jaebum falls backward with fright.

He has no eye! Jaebum thinks to himself.

My dad went there with the police, the fucking police! All they saw was blood smeared down the hallway and an eyeball that matched perfectly with Youngjae’s eye color.  Jaebum recalls Jackson saying that to him in a rant. Jaebum stands up hastily.

“Are-are you Youngjae?” Jaebum stutters almost crying in happiness. The male looks up with fear plagued across his face.

“You need to go! He will do to you what he has done with me.” The male stands up and tries to push Youngjae away but another male comes out of the classroom across from them.

“Youngjae, what are you doing?” The blonde male whisper-shouts at the male who was pushed against Jaebum’s chest.

So this is Youngjae, Jaebum thinks in victory.

Youngjae swallows in fear, “I am trying to help him. We don’t need another one, Mark.”

“Youngjae, I know Jinyoung,” Jaebum says in a rush as Youngjae tries to push him out of the school building.

“You, You know Jinyoung?” Youngjae repeats with a slight amount of shock on his face. The blonde male, named Mark, paces back and forward down the hallway.

“Yes. He is my best friends dad.” Youngjae stops pushing Jaebum and looks over at Mark who was still pacing.

“We have no time for this, Youngjae. We need to get him out of here immediately.” Mark says grabbing on to Jaebum’s shirt. That was when Jaebum realized he doesn’t have a left hand.

“Boys!” The three male hear a deep boom of a voice. Mark mutters a slight ‘Fuck.’ and lets go of Jaebum’s shirt. Jaebum’s heart starts to race at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. The male in a white lab coat stops suddenly when he sees a different face.

“Who is this?” The doctor asks with a smirk on his face. At this time, BamBam and Yugyeom stepped out of the classroom into the hallway.

Youngjae’s head perks up,”A new visitor. He came around 10 minutes ago.” Mark looks over to Jaebum who was holding on to his phone with a death grip. He had sweat dripping down his face in fright.

“Should we play a game with our new visitor?” The doctor asks but has no response. He still continues to talk, “It is called Kagome, Kagome. You will have a blindfold on and we will circle you singing this song when the song ends you will have to guess who is behind you. If you get it wrong, you get a body part cut off and if you get it right, you get a body part cut off.” Jaebum gasps loudly and looks over to Youngjae who had a stony look on his face.

“Bambam, get the blindfold. Youngjae, situate him on the ground.” Mark orders with a tremble in his voice. Youngjae walks over to the male and whispers, “I’m so sorry.” but then shoves him on the ground. Bambam walks out of the classroom holding the blindfold and ties it around Jabum’s face.

“Please, Please. Let me go. I am only 22, I don’t deserve to die.” Jaebum pleads with a shaky voice but to no avail, he was still situated on the ground.

“Kagome, Kagome, Please don’t try to run from us. Circle You, Circle You, What games we will play, can I guess? Before the moon sets again You can play with us until then! Circle You, Circle you, Who surrounds you everywhere?” They chant the song 2 times before Jaebum has to decide, just like when Youngjae had this happen to him.

Jaebum answers quickly, “It is Youngjae.”

“Correct! Youngjae what body part do you want him to miss?”

“His left eye.” Youngjae answers solemnly.

“Good choice.”

“It is 1:48, where is he?” Jackson asks with impatience in his voice. Jinyoung rubs his nose with two fingers before slamming his fist on the steering wheel.

“We need to call the police. I should have never fucking let him go in there.” Jinyoung mutters to himself while taking his phone out. It takes the police 1 hour to get to the countryside, where the forest was. When the police finally got there, they started searching around the area of the school before finally reaching the school.

“I will go in,” Jackson states solidly while 3 more police officers agree to go in with him.

“Jaebum? Jaebum?” Jackson calls out in the school but gets no answer. One of the police officers goes down into the hallway where all of the classrooms are.

“Hey! I found something.” The officer shouts, grabbing the attention of the 3 males.

“What is it?” Jackson asks with his eyebrows scrunched together. When Jackson got to the hallway, he wished he could have turned back time.

All they found was Jaebum’s hat and an eyeball that matched his eye color.