#i literally stabbed her mattress with a kitchen knife

[acutenobody]

So, a few months ago my friend's phone broke, I had just bought a new one so she asked if she could borrow my old one, I didn't want to lend her but she said it was just for a few days while she got herself a new one. So I said okay.

2 weeks later she was still using my phone and she wanted to take it with her to her hometown bc her town is bigger and she would find a new phone there easier. I said that I didn't want her to take it bc I know how she is. But she was all sad saying that she couldn't travel 30h in a bus without communication and she also would need her bank app to pay for a taxi and blah blah blah.

I didn't say anything to her, which was my mistake. I should have just said fuck you and grabbed my phone back. BC THAT MOTHERFUCKER LOST IT!! She new I still had a bunch of stuff in it (personal pictures, videos, contacts numbers...), was still logged in all of my accounts (including my bank account) and had a bunch of documents with my whole name and personal info. And now she doesn't know where she put and thinks she lost on the bus, but her travel was like a month ago I don't think the bus company would still have it (if they even had in the first place)

I am so mad at her. She knows I have a problem to say no to someone and she used it in her favor, AND SHE LOST MY FUCKING CELL PHONE. If anyone have any suggestions to what I should do to get revenge on her I'm up to suggestions

[frstbiitten]

cw: blood, violence

At what time had she arrived home the night before? She didn't feel sore in her head, maybe a little in her body, didn't know exactly what time it was, much less why she felt so exhausted. Heard the cell phone ringing from somewhere in the room, it was a loud and unnecessarily annoying noise, she waited a few seconds for it to stop. It stopped ringing for a moment, only to start ringing again. By the end she had no choice but to leave the mattress and go for the cell phone, inside of one of the pockets of her jeans, they were laying on the floor near the front door. The number belonged to no other than Violet.

"Violet, please, I swear I'm fine." Frost answered somewhat exasperated, her body still trying to shake off the sleepy feeling, again she wondered what time it was, noon? She came back somewhat tired last night, that explained it.

"Ah, Frost, hello, sorry, I thought you had woken up some time ago, did you get through your adventure alright at least?" Oh, she was referring to Jason, she still had the feeling of his lips saturating various areas of her body, places that might be somewhat embarrassing, she didn't know how to feel about that yet.

"Well...yeah...it was kind of interesting."

"Well, well, at least one of us got some action, but I'm calling you for something urgent: you see, since Jasper died, Kit has been distancing herself from me a lot, we've never gone this long without talking to each other, you know? And I'm worried, I've been following her and I haven't been able to call her, it's like her number's been blocked, so I need you to help me find her."

That put Frost in a very compromising place, she could either say no and go on with her day, or be gentle and less selfish and tell her she would help her find Kit.

"Yes, I understand your concern, I gather that if you've been following her, you know where she is."

"Yes, that's the problem, that's what I need you for, and I'm hoping you can help me with this, I've seen her getting out of fancy cars, accompanied by men who I can tell are not simply members of a criminal street gang, I mean she may be involved in something much more serious."

"And why are you so concerned about that, not that it's the closest thing to her previous work?"

Heard Violet let out a huff as she headed for the bathroom, looking at her reflection in the mirror, there was a very striking purple mark on her pale neck.

"You're missing my point, Kit was never like this with me, she's my friend and I'm worried I can't have contact with her, I'm sorry about Jasper's death but I'm sick of being alone, maybe I've started over again but I need her in my life still." It was something almost touching, Violet's voice seemed to break from moment to moment, maybe she was teary-eyed by that specific minute and was even choking back a sob as she spoke.

"Okay... I'll be waiting for you, literally, I have nothing else to do."

"Okay, then I'll see you in the evening."

"By the way, where have you seen Kit?" to Frost, this was a question of great importance.

"I don't know if you've been to Hollywood or Beverly Hills before, you know, places where you and I would be seen in the worst possible way, but I have a bad feeling about this." 

Frost had almost no memory of seeing those places before, she knew very well what they were but beyond that, she had never set foot in those places, Frost wouldn't know exactly what she would run into. Something inside her told her it wouldn't be a night like others.

"I understand... see you later."

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

The best way to enter these places is not by walking but by car, in a cab to be precise, although the cost of the trip would be somewhat exorbitant, it was to be expected that it would not be a cheap visit at all. Both paid out of their pockets with what they had, Violet gave clear instructions as to where they would end their journey, at least a less suspicious distance from the club, but close enough to not walk too far. 

Maybe for Violet, this world was unfamiliar to her but it wasn't completely unfamiliar, for Frost this was new, the flashing neon lights, the bright signs, and the sound of a Saturday night in a city where it was more than obvious that someone like her couldn't fit in safely. Frost followed Violet closely, not wanting to get lost in all the hustle and bustle or she wouldn't know how to get back. Suddenly Violet stopped and held Frost's hand for a moment, she had spotted something near the club.

"See that car, the white one with tinted windows?" She didn't want to point it out so as not to raise any suspicion, they were close enough to notice who was arriving or who was leaving. "Look, that's Kit." They both watched as Kit stepped out of the luxury car, she had always been someone posh but now it was clear she had received more money these past few weeks than either of them. "I don't know why she's coming here, nor do I know how we could get in, maybe the back of the club I guess."

"Maybe, although there are probably bodyguards watching."

"But you know how to beat up people... I don't think it's going to be a big problem for you."

In response to Violet's advice, Frost simply sighed, so this was what she had brought her along for.

Well there was no turning back now, much less when she left two cameras and three bodyguards disabled, she decided not to kill them, that might make things worse for the two of them, and Violet had no combat skills, even if she was much taller than Frost. The unlucky guys ended up passed out on the ground, near a trash can, and with their communicators out of function, hands and feet wrapped in ice, maybe it would have some long term side effect, but it wasn't part of Frost's main concern, it wasn't her problem.

Through the back door they entered a dark corridor, from the ceiling appeared two rows on each side of LED lights that changed colors continuously, from there they could smell the aroma of the room perfumer, something fruity, but also the smell of cigarettes was present. They didn't have much time until someone would discover what they had done, they passed near the back section of the kitchen, they couldn't see it but they could hear it, it didn't take long for Frost's stomach to start growling, it was better not to pay attention to it.

"Where do you think it could be? This place is huge." The young woman heard noises coming from all corners, footsteps, laughter, glasses falling, whatever.

"I want to believe we're not too far away, but I don't know, I've never been inside this place." Violet was confused about it too, it seemed like they were never going to make it to the dance floor, let alone the stairs to the second floor.

At the end of the hallway there seemed to be nothing but a dark space, dark curtains hung from the ceiling and behind the metal door, the sound of music could be heard clearly. Frost walked towards the door, it appeared heavy but without the need to use a key to open it. Before even touching the lever, she felt a stabbing sensation in her shoulder, at first it didn't seem worrisome but the scream she heard was enough, whatever had pierced her shoulder now was only inserting it further into her muscles and something pushed her to the floor.

The object came out of her body and went in again, knowing full well that it would cut her back once more. But that didn't happen, she heard Violet struggle with the attacker and ask her to stop.

"Shit, Kit, you asshole stop! She didn't do anything to you for you to do this to her!"

"Because of her Jasper is dead! If we had never met her, she'd be alive!"

Hearing those last words, Frost did her best to pull herself up from the ground, noticing that blood was pouring down her shoulders and arms. They were deep cuts, deep enough that she had to take care of every move with extreme detail or the pain would start hitting her again. Kit was holding the knife with both hands while lying on the floor and Violet was trying to calm her down at the same time, it only took Frost a few seconds to remove the knife from Kit, pressing her chest with one of her feet and freezing her hands slightly.

"Wow, I guess that's how you greet everyone, do you know why we're here?" Frost was going to keep her foot on Kit's chest until she calmed down, Violet decided to let go of her arms just in case, worrying mostly for Frost now and her wounds.

"Why would that matter to me? You're not welcomed here, you're scum Frost!" Had never seen Kit act so aggressively, she even tried to hit her leg, but at her touch she felt the coldness of the young woman's skin.

"I've been trying to track you down, you weren't answering my calls and I got worried to the point of tracking you down, I had to come with Frost because I didn't know how dangerous this would be." But Violet was on the verge of running away now, this is not the Kit she knows, her words aren't true at all, perhaps coming alone without Frost would have been a better option, she risked her life after all without knowing. "Frost, are you okay?"

"I've been worse."

It was only there when Kit calmed down, Frost took her foot off her chest and decided to give the two friends a moment. This was of no concern to her, she only came to help Violet in case something more serious happened. She focused from moment to moment on their conversation, leaning against one of the walls in the dark, they talked about pacts and fears, Kit was recruited by a Russian mafia boss, she was a companion but also an informant, had her charms and skills that were useful for them and her mostly. At times she lost the thread of the conversation, keeping her attention on the knife soaked with her blood in her hands, her own blood, she felt the wound closing slowly although she could not ignore the intense pain in her back. She cleaned the blade by covering it with a layer of thin ice and removing it, leaving the shards to melt on the ground.

She felt like leaving them both alone, as they had a lot to talk about with each other and she didn't want to be in their way, it was clear that Kit didn't like the idea of her being there with Violet. Frost was a curious person and of course, the metal door caught her attention, heard music and people on the other side, she rested her hand on the lever and gently opened it, but the squeak caught the attention of the other two girls.

"If I were you I wouldn't let them see me, especially after what you did a few months ago." Kit decided to stop Frost before opening the door, placing her hand over hers, she didn't want her to leave for good reasons. "Look, it's a small world out there, and even if you, you insufferable snowball with anger issues, think you live tucked inside a bubble, believe me, your head already has a price on it, and more than likely someone or more than one person is looking for you, and for very good reasons."

"First of all, I don't have anger issues, got it? Okay, second; I know how to defend myself." And she was insistent besides, as she opened the door backward.

"Yeah, I saw how you defended yourself against me, if it wasn't for Violet, you'd already be getting torn to pieces in some machine and ending inside of a garbage bag."

Violet was already wearing herself out from this argument, pulling Kit away from Frost before they both started fighting again. 

"Kit... please...don't make the night any more difficult." She left her friend behind to accompany Frost who was already about to leave, as she was curious about it too, maybe she would never set foot in a place like this again. Kit only rolled her eyes, irritated almost, for her friend was not in favor of her decisions and now the girl she wanted to kill had her knife, she was going to ask for it later. There probably wouldn't be a "later".

The club was packed with people, the music was loud and they were pretty close to the bar. There were glasses in the shapes of crystals hanging from the ceiling in some areas, velvet-lined furniture and expensive drinks, well the two girls were in for a surprise if they were thirsty, most of it was out of their budget. It was entertaining for Kit to see Violet so amused, even walking while dancing, but Frost's presence was what she hadn't expected, though it was a good opportunity. She pulled out her cell phone, several contacts on it were there that night, and to all of them, she sent them the same message:

"She's here."

[the-homicidediaries]

Teka Adams

TW: cutting, baby abduction

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I feel like this is such a crucial story to tell.

Fair warning, it’s very, very graphic and gory. The worst of the worst.

(Also very long, oops.)

This is the story of Teka Adams.

(The episode of I Survived is from Season 5, Episode 16.)

This story takes place in Upper Marlboro, MD in 2010, but I do want to give a small back story.

When Teka was younger, she defined herself as a rebel. She made some not very good choices and ended up living on the street due to her choices. Once she hit rock bottom, she knew she had to change her lifestyle, so she began staying at a homeless shelter to help get herself back on her feet. There, she met a young man named PJ. They fall in love and get married.

Fast forward to 2010, Teka and PJ are still living in the shelter.

When Teka is 7 months pregnant, she begins receiving phone calls from an unknown number. Even after she ignored the calls, they still continued. Reluctantly, she answered.

The woman on the other end said her name was Stephanie and she worked with a program that helped get homeless pregnant women clothes, car seats, clothes, anything a new mother needs. She tells Teka she has a warehouse full of new baby items and she would love to bring Teka by to let her pick what she would like for her baby.

Teka was so excited. This would be a huge help to someone like Teka who was at the lowest point of her life.

Immediately, PJ thinks something fishy is going on. He warns Teka to not rush into anything she doesn’t know about.

But Teka is so excited and tells him to have a little faith.

A couple of days later, Stephanie meets Teka at the homeless shelter. In the episode of I Survived, Teka said Stephanie was very, very nice and very soft spoken. They get into Stephanie’s car and begin driving towards the warehouse.

Teka begins confiding in Stephanie on the way to the warehouse, telling her how she’s so happy now that she’s married and she’s going to have a baby and she’s so grateful Stephanie was willing to help her.

But because Teka is talking to much, she realizes she hasn’t paid attention to where they were going and she has no clue where they are.

They end up at Stephanie’s apartment. Stephanie brings her up the steps and puts Teka in an unfurnished bedroom (😐), sits Teka down, and begins playing a movie.

Teka gets a call from PJ and he asks, “Where you at?”

Teka assures him she is fine because the truth was.. she didn’t know where she was. She didn’t want to worry her husband, though.

She soon realizes what a huge mistake she has made and begins to frantically worry.

Once the movie is over, Stephanie then puts on another movie.

As Teka is watching this movie, Stephanie comes up from behind her, throws a heavy blanket on her, and begins beating her over the head.

Teka suddenly jumps up, throws her hands up, and she said all she can see is blood.

She then starts running towards the front door. It’s locked three separate ways, so Teka was not able to escape before Stephanie grabbed her and dragged her back. They fall to the ground and begin fighting when Stephanie wraps her arm around Teka’s neck and begins to choke her. That wasn’t knocking Teka out, so Stephanie then grabs a fire poker and begins.. (😭) hitting Teka in the head about 40 times.

Teka passes out.

Teka comes to a couple of minutes later and she can feel Stephanie dragging her by her ankles to the kitchen.

Teka hears Stephanie rattling around in the kitchens drawers.

Next thing Teka knows, she feels a sharp pain in her side. She looks down and sees Stephanie holding a box cutter, stabbing Teka.

Even more blood starts pouring out of Teka.

As Teka is bleeding out, after being stabbed with a box cutter, Stephanie goes to the kitchen to pray.

“Lord forgive me, I’m a sinner. I’m so sorry.”

Teka has lost so much blood she is unable to move, but Stephanie begins to scrub the floor, cleaning the blood.

She asks Teka if she can get up, and when Teka says she can’t, Stephanie picks her up and carries her to the back bedroom, laying her on the mattress.

Stephanie then takes away Teka’s cell phone and turns it off.

Thankfully, Teka stops bleeding.

She starts thinking she can talk her way out of this situation and begins to try to talk Stephanie down. She tells Stephanie she wouldn’t tell anyone because she doesn’t believe in breaking families apart; Stephanie has children of her own.

Stephanie begins pacing in circles and murmuring to herself. Teka thinks she’s beginning to talk her down at this point.

(Plot twist, she definitely hasn’t.)

At this point, Teka has been nearly bleeding to death in this woman’s apartment for three nights.

On the third night, Stephanie comes into the bedroom with a metal bowl full of ice, rags over her shoulders, two box cutters, and a knife.

(This is where it gets so, so, so grim. I’m extremely sorry. If you’re squeamish, stop reading now.)

Stephanie proceeds to wrap Teka’s head in duct tape until Teka can barely breathe.

The way Teka describes the next part of this story in I Survived is:

“She just starts cuttin’.”

Stephanie starts at the top of Teka’s pelvic area and just starts cutting upwards.

Doing all of this with box cutters and a knife.

Teka states in the show that she can feel everything being done to her.

At one point, Stephanie was having a hard time cutting through Teka’s skin, so she started picking at it and then began cutting through Teka’s muscle.

Also, while all of this is going on, Stephanie was playing Michael Jackson’s This Is It documentary in the background. Stephanie kept rewinding to the songs as she’s cutting Teka up.

Teka, again, passes out.

When she comes to, she notices Stephanie is laying in the fetal position on the floor asleep in front of the door.

Teka realizes this might be her only chance to get away.

As she is trying to roll off the bed, the metal bowl is still on the bed with her and her wedding ring hits against the bowl, making a ringing sound.

Teka freezes, waiting to see if Stephanie will wake up or not.

Stephanie doesn’t.

Teka pushes herself up and begins quietly walking across the room, stepping over Stephanie, blood dripping over Stephanie. She froze again, for sure Stephanie would wake up this time.

Stephanie doesn’t wake up, so she begins tiptoeing down the hall to the front door.

Ask Teka is walking up the hallway, leaning to one side, all of the organs in her upper torso fall out of her body.

Teka picks up her organs and keeps going towards the front door.

She unlocks the three locks and finally gets out of the apartment!

She starts yelling for help and knocking on the other apartment doors, but unfortunately no one is coming to help.

She makes it to the bottom of the stairs and passes out again.

And who should show up and see Teka passed out at the bottom of the stairs?

Yup.

Stephanie.

Stephanie makes her way down the stairs, places her arms under Teka’s, and begins trying to drag her back up the stairs. Teka says she began fighting and biting Stephanie as she’s screaming for help.

Finally, a man comes out from his apartment and Stephanie proceeds to tell him that Teka is very sick, delusional, and she’s only trying to help her, that they’re sorry they were bothering him and to go back inside, everything was fine.

Teka looks up at him and says, “Help me, she’s trying to kill me.”

And although Teka had lost so much blood, and literally her organs, she man was staring at her in confusion because she was wearing a Navy blue shirt, so the blood wasn’t showing through the shirt.

So what does Teka do?

She raises up her shirt and shows him how her organs are falling out of her.

He quickly runs in and calls the police.

Stephanie looks at Teka with a death stare and runs away.

The EMTs showed up and nearly passed out when they saw the damage to Teka’s body.

She’s rushed into surgery.

When she wakes up, PJ is there.

She frantically asks the nurse if her baby is okay.

The nurse answers her, saying she gave birth to an eight pound, two ounce healthy baby girl.

(The baby was balled up all the way to the top of Teka’s womb as she was being cut and Stephanie was not able to reach her.)

Teka named her baby Miracle because they both survived.

What happened to Stephanie?

Wellllll

Her real name is Veronica Deramous and she called the cops on herself. She plead guilty to assault and was sentenced to 25 years in prison.

(They couldn’t prove attempted murder because Stephanie spun a story about offering to buy Teka’s baby for $5,000 and there was “no evidence that Deramous was trying to kill her.” So idiotic.)

Teka and Miracle face Veronica at the preliminary trial, mean mugging Veronica the entire time. She was not asked to testify against Veronica.

The most amazing part of this is that Teka made a full recovery.

At the end of the episode, Teka said she survived because she was coming to a point in her life where she loved and respected herself and cherish life. She said she loves God and her support system loves her.

“God looks after babies and fools. I had a baby, and I was a fool.”

Teka, PJ, and Miracle now live in an apartment in Washington, DC.

[shadowlorddemon]

Curse of Moonlight

Werewolf + Human AU (platonic LAMP)

===October 25===

Sizzling can be heard from the kitchen. Smell of cooked bacons from in the kitchen. Bird singing from the tree. Faint sounds of water running from bathroom which is four doors down from his room.

Virgil is used to his heighten senses. He groans softly as he heard Patton called for him. He raised from his soft bed mattress. He grimaced when he noticed the leaves and dirts on the mattress.

It happens again. Of course, it happens. It’s a full moon last night. Virgil is sure that Patton won’t be happy.

He swiped his legs off the bed and stand up. He stretched his arms out. He winced when he feel a pop sound. Now he’s awake enough to acknowledge the pain all over his body. The transformation is never easy.

The sensation of having bone snapping and cracking. The sensation of having muscle pulled and ripped apart. He began to rubs his sore jawline. He look down to examine the damages. Bruises all over his body, forming from broken bones and ripped muscles. It looks like he was abused. Far from the truth, very far.

“Kiddo! Came down please!”

Patton. He forget about him. He walks out of his room, still in his pajamas. He steps down the stairs and goes straight into the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo...” Virgil waves at Patton. “...you’re dirty.” Virgil pauses. “...yes. I’m dirty.” Virgil said as he looks at Patton. He shrugs his shoulders. “I mean what do you expect. It’s full moon last night.”

Patton frowns softly. He turns his attention to the cooking bacons. “Roman and Logan would wonder why you’re so dirty.” Virgil sighs heavily. “I’m not ready to tell them about my curse.” Patton glances at him over his shoulder. “...you got a leaf in your hair.” Patton said with a smirk. Virgil smirks back as he pulls a stray leaf.

Soon enough, Virgil heard water stopped running. On time as he was done eating his breakfast. He stands up, making Patton look up from his plate. “Roman is done. I’m going to take shower.” Patton nods. Virgil places a empty plate into a sink and hurried to his room.

As Virgil enters under the water, his brain begins to wander.

He remembers the day when he gets bitten by a large wolf. It was a cold December night. He is out camping with his father. Due the night, he suddenly hears a noise that scared him. He begged his father to go out and check it out. Ten minutes went by, Virgil came out of the tent to see what’s going on.

Only to get jumped by a large black wolf with red ruby eyes. The wolf bites Virgil’s right shoulder, leaving a mark behind. The wolf was hit by a huge log, weaponed by Virgil’s father. The wolf runs away and Virgil was taken away to hospital.

He still went to camping with his father but he always carries guns and knifes to protect himself.

However, Virgil’s grandma flipped out when she heard the story. She keeps screaming that Virgil must be killed with silver bullets. Virgil’s mother is very upset with her mother’s actions. Virgil’s grandma told him that he was bitten by a werewolf. Every time when a full moon was out, he will transform into a horrible beast. Virgil’s mother didn’t believe in her until the very night when Virgil was first time transformed into werewolf.

Virgil woke up next morning, lying in the puddle of blood. Not by few feet away from him is a half-eaten body of deer. Virgil’s father found him. Virgil’s grandma told his parents that they need to kill him. But, they refused. How could they kill their only son?

Virgil closed his eyes as he leaned back into the tiled wall.

He then remembers the night when Patton found out.

Patton and Virgil meets when they’re in Sophomore year. Patton was transferred from his old school. Patton was fantastic by folklores and myths. Virgil grew fond of him but too scared to share his secret with him. But at the day of winter solstice, which it’s also a full moon, Patton want Virgil to come over his house. Forgotten about tonight, he agreed. But when he was sitting in the basement with Patton, he feels a familiar sensation. He freaked out, to Patton’s confusion. Patton only can watch in horror as Virgil transformed front of him.

Virgil woke up in the backyard of Patton’s house. He wearily pulls himself up. As he stands up on his feet, Patton rushes out with towel and first aid kit. Only when he saw the kit, he noticed three bullet wounds on his left arm, four bullet wounds on his right arm and two bullet wounds plus three knife stab wounds on his chest.

Patton told him that when Patton’s dad heard noise from basement, he rushes downstairs with a gun and knife. He attacks Virgil but he is no match to Virgil. Luckily Virgil only knocked him out cold and busts out into fenced backyard. He stays there until sunrise. Virgil begs Patton to never speak of this to anyone outside but Virgil and his family. Patton agreed.

Virgil opens his eyes as he can hear Patton calls from the other side of door.

“Virgil? You okay?” Virgil reaches out and turn off the water. “Yeah, Patton. Sorry.” He called out as he grabs the towel. “We’re going to go out to shopping. Do you want to came with?” “Are we going to the mall?” “Nope, downtown!” “Okay...” “Okay? As you will come with okay?” “Yes.” “Awesome! Be ready for ten o’clock!” “Gotcha.”

=============

“Wow...” Virgil mustered as he stares at the crowd. Patton smiles nervously. “I definitely didn’t expect the crowd.” He said. Virgil nods slowly. “I believe you...”

Smell of cooked chicken. Sounds of people gossiping. Sounds of footsteps. Smell of fried foods. Smell of...herbs?

Virgil blinks and sniffed in the air. Yup, definitely herbs. There’s herb shop somewhere here.

He begins to walks away from the crowd, in search of herbs shop. Patton called out, “Hey! Where did you going?” Virgil stops for moment. He turns his head a little to acknowledging Patton. “Looking for herbs shop. I smell herbs.” Patton sighs softly. “You and your heighten senses.” Virgil smirks at Patton’s remark.

Soon enough he found a herb shop with sign that reads ‘Herbs and Spices Store’. Huh, that explains why the scent of herbs are strong enough that Virgil can smell it. Virgil went to enter it. Sudden the smell of spices and herbs hits his nose. Virgil flinched by insanely strong scents. The cash register noticed Virgil’s flinch and ask him if he’s okay. Virgil reassures her that he didn’t expect strong scent of spices and herbs due to his sensitized nose. She still held a worried face but didn’t press on. Virgil wanders around the shop, examining spices and herbs. Soon he bought few of spices for Patton.

When he found Patton, he was talking with two strangers that he never seen before. Clearly two people are bothering Patton because Patton looks distressed. One man wears a jacket. Virgil can see a letter V on the back. Another man wears a black sweater. The letter V on the back as well. Thanks to Virgil’s heighten hearing, he can hear the conversation.

“Awe, come on, beautiful. Why can’t You came with us?” Patton shakes his head. “N-no, I, I don’t wanna.” A man in jacket scowls as another man in sweater pouts. “Babe, come on. Please?” Virgil decided to step in but froze when he picks up a familiar scent.

He held back a snarl. These men. They’re vampires. Virgil hates vampires.

Two men are surprised when Virgil slips between them and Patton. The men’s eyes are red. One man growled softly as another’s face twisted in disgust. “Werewolf.” A man snarled. Virgil lets out a soft growl. Two men and Virgil have a stare down for awhile before a man pulls another man away.

“Let’s go. He is not worth a fight.” Another man growls before nods sharply.

Virgil sighs softly as two man disappeared from their view and turns to Patton. “You alright?” Patton nods quickly. “I’m so scared. These men... they’re vampires, right? They shows me their fangs.” Virgil closes his eyes and nods solemnly. He opens and pulls Patton into a hug. Patton gasp softly before he hugged back.

==========

“Where are you being?” Logan said sternly as Patton and Virgil enters. Patton look at Logan, at Virgil, back to Logan. “We’re out shopping at downtown.” Logan narrows his eyes. “Really?” Patton nods. Logan sighs softly and nods. “Okay.”

A flush. The door opens. Roman came out of the bathroom. Virgil winkles his nose as he smells the unusual scent from the bathroom.

Roman looks up. “Oh you’re back.” Virgil rolls his eyes.

====November 23====

“Please?” “No.” Patton pouts as Virgil glares at him. “Come on, They literally asks me if I know anything about you since they keeps found leaves and dirts. I think they deserve to know.” Virgil’s shoulder shudders as Virgil looks down at his shoes. “I...” He mutters. Patton’s eyebrows furrows as his smile slowly falls.

“Virgil?” Virgil looks up at Patton. Patton, now frowning, stares at the glossy eyes. Virgil sighs softly. “It’s just...” Virgil gestured at himself. “They won’t have similar reaction like you did when you saw me transformed.” He then reaches up to grabs his hair as he looks down. “What if they hate me? What if they would called these monster hunters to kill me? What if-“ “Virgil.” Virgil stops his rant when he hear Patton’s tone and feels the hands on his hands.

He know that tone. The fatherly tone. He looks up as Patton brings his hands down. Still holding Virgil’s hands, he spoke with gentle tone, “Virgil, you need to calm down. You’re right that they won’t have same reaction. But I’m sure that they would understand that you would never hurts them.” Virgil blinks as Patton smiles softly. “Remember that night when we’re going on a camp with your family?” Virgil looks down at his hands and Patton hands.

~~~~

“Virgil! This is so cool!” Patton smiles gleefully as Virgil smirks. “My father and I often came here for camping. There’s much activities that I want to share with you, Patton.” Patton turns to him, still smiling. “Really?!” Virgil nods. “Alright, you two boys. Won’t you came here and help your old man with camping luggages?” Virgil chuckles softly as he turns on his heels and walks toward his father. Patton, still taking in the view, pay no attention to them.

“Wow!” Patton, kneeled on his knees, watches as a fire came alive on the pile of dry woods. Virgil smiles as he held the lighter, kneeling on his left knee. “That’s so cool!” Virgil smiles at him. He stands up and turns to his father, which he carries the marshmallows, Hersey chocolate and crackers. “Let’s make S’mores!” He said as he raises them up. Patton cheers loudly as Virgil smiles at him.

The fire crackles as Virgil’s father was telling a story. Patton huddles against Virgil whose smile at Patton’s actions. Suddenly, he shivered as a familiar feeling rushes though his body. His eyes widened as he looks up. A full moon. He forgets it’s tonight. Virgil flinched backward and scurried away. Patton and Virgil’s father looks at him worried. Soon Virgil’s father’s eyes widened in realization. He turns his head around and up. Patton noticed his actions and follows him. “Shit! I forget it’s full moon tonight!” A loud yelp. Both males whips around on time as Virgil huddled over. A loud crack. A loud scream in agony.

Patton only can stares at Virgil when He raises his head up, violet eyes stares back. A snarl grabs three males’ attention. They turns to the source of a snarl. Virgil’s father swore loudly as another werewolf growls loudly. He glares at Virgil as he glared back. The werewolf turns his attention to Patton. He gasps softly as the werewolf leaps toward him. The wolf didn’t catch him, instead he was thrown back as the heavy body slammed into him. Patton whips his head to his right. A brown wolf and black wolf are fighting.

Soon, a black werewolf runs away, overpowered by Virgil’s strength. Huffing, Virgil turns to look at Patton. He then walks on fours, toward at Patton. Patton flinched when Virgil is looming over him. He then shuts his eyes in fear that Virgil would hurts him. His eyes shot open when a wet tongue licks his cheek. Virgil is licking his cheek.

~~~~

Virgil smiles softly as he look back at Patton. “Virgil. I admit that I actually thought you’re going to hurt me since I saw how did you fighting with that werewolf. But you didn’t hurt me. You were concerned if I’m alright. You were checking on me. Well, I admit that I sometimes feels guilty about that because I do believe that you’re going to hurt me. And I was wrong.” Patton said as he looks down at their hands.

He pulls Virgil’s hands and hold them against his chest. “I trusted you. I know you will never hurt them. You only hurt someone when they’re being awful. Not to you but to whom that you cares so much. And you care about us so much that you’re willing to lying your own life before our life.” Virgil smile softly.

He nods. “Yeah... I guess you’re right. I don’t know why did I thinks that way.” Patton beams at Virgil. “Don’t worry, Virgil. Everything will be oka-“ “WE GOT A PROBLEM!” Virgil and Patton jumps at Roman’s yell. “What? What’s it? What’s happening?” Patton called out as Roman rushed in the common room. Roman’s eyes are widened, making Virgil feel anxious. “It’s Logan! Two men was at the door! When Logan was talking to them, they grabbed him and dragged him away! I tried to stop them but they drove away! I didn’t catch the car license! They stole him!” Virgil paled as Patton gasps. “What do they looks like?”

Roman blinks as Virgil asks with a strange tone. “Uh... One man wears a black leather jacket with red letter V on back. Another wears black sweater. Both have brown hairs. But their eyes are red.” Patton’s eyes widened as Virgil ducks his head.

Roman looks at Patton, then at Virgil. “What? What’s it?” Patton slowly turns his head at Virgil. “Virgil... it’s these men...” Virgil nods, clenching his hands in fists. “What?” Patton looks back at Roman. “Four weeks ago, when Virgil and I went to shopping at downtown. I was cornered by these men you see. They want to take me to somewhere. But,” Patton moves his hands around, unsure. “Something feels wrong with these men. Something unsettling about them. It scares me. I kept telling them no but they’re so demanding that I must to go. Luckily, Virgil steps in.”

Roman looks at Virgil for confirmation. Virgil nods solemnly. Roman groans. “Shit.” Patton frowns at the swear word but pay no attention. Virgil glances at Patton. “Do you...” He began before stops. Patton looks at him. Then he nods and turns around to walk toward the stairs. Roman looks at him, puzzled. Virgil sighs heavily. He then glanced for the clock. 4:45 pm.

The steps catch Virgil’s attention. He turns his head around as Patton carried the blue tie. Patton hands it over to Virgil as he grabs it. With Roman looks at him confused, Virgil takes a whiff. Now Virgil gets his scent. Virgil nods. “Let’s go and get him back.” Patton nods. Roman, still confused, nods as well. Patton sighs. “It’s really complicated, Roman.”

===9:37 pm===

A Loire Blue Metallic Jaguar F-Pace SUV drives up to the old, near-ruined warehouse. Virgil glares at the warehouse, Patton looks worried and Roman is still confused. “How do you know that they would be here?” Virgil winced. He shifts his attention to Patton. Patton then pulls off the sleeve to look at the watch. “9:38 pm. The moon still isn’t up yet.” A frustrating noise escapes Roman. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?!” Virgil grips the wheel, hands trembling. Patton looks back with stern look. Roman gulps as he met with Patton’s Dad look. Patton sighs heavily as he looks back at the warehouse. “Let’s go inside.” Virgil hastily nods as he opens the car door.

Logan only can watch as a man in jacket walks around him. Logan tugs the rope arounds his wrists. Another man in sweater emerged from the darkness, grinning at the jacket man. He grins back. “Took you long enough, David.” David scoffs. “Joe, come on, man. Gotta make sure that damn werewolf isn’t here.” Joe nods approvingly. Logan makes a confusion sound though a gag. Joe turns to Logan, flashing a smile at him. Logan’s eyes widened a bit when he saw the fangs. “Well, boy. What do you think of my fangs?” David chuckles. “Joe, leave him be. We need to wait for our boss.” Joe grumbled. “I know I know. Let me teases him.” David lets out a rumble laugh. “Bro!” Joe chuckles as he moves toward him. Logan, uncomfortable, begins to squirm in his chair. Joe, a few inch away from his neck, lets out an exhale on his neck; make Logan squirm even more. David chuckles as he watches by.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM LOGAN!!!” Joe, David And Logan jumps at the loud yell. Two men whips around to see angry Roman, nervous Patton and Virgil, his expression is unreadable. Logan, wiggles around in his chair, is overjoyed to see his roommates.

Joe hissed as David snarled at them. Roman flinched as he see the fangs. Patton shudders. “Vampires.” He said hastily. Virgil says nothing. Joe chuckles as he grabs a good look at Patton. “Hey, bro! Look! A cute boy with gray cardigan!” David grins gleefully. Soon David looks over Virgil and his smile drops. “Oh. Of course. That damn mutt won’t give up.” Joe’s face hardened as he glanced at Virgil. Roman and Logan is still lost and Patton glances over at Virgil with concern look. Virgil didn’t meet everyone’s eyes for he keep his head down.

“The fuck, Mutt? Why won’t you look at us?” Roman flips his arms. “Patton?! What the heck did they talking about?!” Patton shallows. “I...Virgil and I was just discussing...that Virgil should come clean with you... something I know for long time...” He said as he glanced at Roman. He looks back at Virgil.

“Virgil?” Patton said as he reaches out for him but stopped when Virgil held a hand up. His hand is shaking. He finally looks up making two vampires and Patton gasp. What once was brown eyes, replaced with violet eyes. Virgil lets out a low growl before glances over at the broken window.

Moonlight shine upon Virgil. Joe and David follows his sight to see what was he looking at. David starts to swearing loudly as two vampires saw a full moon.

Virgil groans loudly as he fell over, a hand clutches his stomach. He starts to cough violently. Splats of blood on the floor. Roman and Logan stares at Virgil in horror while Patton just stares with extreme concern.

Crack! Pop! Crack! Snap! Pop!

Sounds echoed in the warehouse as Virgil’s body was forced undergo the pain of transformation. More bloods leaks from Virgil’s mouth as his body grew larger to handle the transformation, clothes ripped apart from his too large body.

Crack! Pop! Snap! Pop! Crack! Snap!

Virgil kept cries out in agony as the bones keeps snapped and muscles keeps ripped apart.

Soon, as it starts, it stopped. Virgil’s body shakes by ragged breathes. His head snapped up, startled the vampires, Logan and Roman. He bares his teeth, still dripping blood. He stands up quickly, brown fur matted with half-ripped clothes. Giving vampires no time to reacting, he lunges toward the vampires. Roman and Logan can’t tear away from Virgil. Until Patton called out at them, they look away from him.

As Patton untie the ropes off Logan, David was slammed into the crates next to Logan; startled them. Roman checks on him. David is knocked out cold, body ridden with slash marks and bite marks. Roman, chocked up, went back to Patton. Finally, Patton freed Logan. He grabs Logan’s and Roman’s arm and make a run for the exit.

“W-Wait! What about Virgil?!” Roman yells as he almost stumbles over his feet. Patton looks back. “Virgil can handle himself. Right now, we need to stay out of the fight.” They busted out the way and went toward Virgil’s SUV. Soon Patton locks the doors. He looks back from passage seat, panting heavily. Roman and Logan stares back at Patton, panting as well.

“...Well?” Patton said, making Logan blinks in surprise. “Ah. Wha-what-...” Roman finishes Logan’s question, “Is Virgil a werewolf?” Logan nods. Patton sighs softly and nods. “How?” Logan asked. “Virgil told me that when he was ten years old, he was going camping with his father. He got attacked by a black werewolf. He have it ever since.”

Logan nods. “How long did you know?” Roman asked next. Patton sighs again. “Let’s see... Virgil was fifteen years old and I was sixteen years old when we’re in Sophomore years. We graduated six years ago. So... Nine years, I guess?” Logan sighs heavily as he leans back into the seat. “We meet four years ago.” He mutters. Roman nods before he looks at Patton. “Is that why there’s ton of leaves and dirt litters around the apartment?” Patton nods before a sound gets their attention. Three boys looks outside; Logan and Roman yelps as they saw a large brown wolf stands outside. Patton immediately opens the door. “Wait! What if he hurts-“ Roman tried to stop him but gets quiet when Patton hugs the wolf and the wolf hugs back.

“Oh, Virgil. I’m glad you’re okay now.” Patton said against the fur. Virgil whines softly as he laid his head upon Patton’s head. Sounds of door opening and closing. He looks up and see Logan and Roman. Virgil immediately flinched away, making Patton let go. Patton looks at him, turns around to look at Logan and Roman. “Oh.” Patton said as he looks back at Virgil. “It’s okay. I explained to them. It’s okay. They won’t do anything bad to you. I promise.” He cooed at Virgil as he looks uncertain before relaxed his tense muscles. Roman blinks once, twice, thrice before rushing toward him.

“Holy shit, Virgil! Did you defeated them? These men?!” Virgil flinched at Roman’s sudden questions. He hesitated before nods slowly. “Vampires, they’re vampires.” Patton said as he smiles at Roman. “So, That means Virgil have strong dislikes toward vampires?” Logan spoke softly as he studied Virgil’s body. Patton nods. Virgil’s tail begins to wag softly. Roman took a notice of that and smirks at Virgil. “Are you happy?” Virgil blinks before he glanced at his slowly wagging tail. Patton snickers softly as Virgil look back at Roman, clearly embarrassed.

“Okay. Shall we go home?” Virgil peaks up before bolting away. Roman looks at Patton, worried. Patton shakes his head, smiling. “It’s okay. He probably went to find his way back to home.” Patton held up the suv keys. “Besides Virgil gives me his keys because he knew he won’t fit in his own suv.” Logan smiles softly as Roman chuckles nervously.

===November 24, 5:29 am===

Logan groans softly as he opens his eyes. He looks around, noted that he’s in the common room. He then sits up from the couch, he realized that he probably fall asleep on the couch. He hears a groan, causing him to look down at the side of the couch. Roman, rubbing his eyes as he sits up.

“What the...” Roman mutters before he fully opens his eyes. “VIRGIL?!” He yelled, causing Logan slaps his head. Roman glares at Logan as he rubs his head.

“What?” Two boys whips around to see a confused messy Virgil. He’s not wearing his half-destroyed shirt nor hoodie. He instead wears a new shirt that said Panic! At the Disco. His hair is messed up. Patton, in his pajamas, soon appears by his side.

“Good morning! Have a good sleep?” Patton said cheerfully as Virgil smiles softly.

Logan blinks as Roman stares at them. Logan then smiles softly. “Yes, I believe we do.”

[fandomdragon20]

The Princess and the Pea-ist oFF PAPERBAG THATS WHAT (part 3)

So the group went into the dinning hall to continue dinner, after Flug threw the disaster of a dress into the fire outside, with their new guest, both Demencia and Flug engrossed in his story.

Black Hat however kept quiet. Skeptical about the man, who explained he was a noble of the kingdom and how his family was rich thanks to their line of works in the engineering field, however Flug was sort of the black sheep of the family who was close to only his brother. (I wonder who it could be?? Owowowowwowó) Cut away from the family name by his own choice, Flug started his own kind of "unauthorized" work with his share of wealth. Flug was an inventor at heart so he knew a thing or two about technology. Flug would sell confidential information to the black market, hack a few of the major banks, and post some fake news that would go viral on Facebook.

Black Hat merely scoffed, a lesser villain with the ability of technology and hacking, something Black Hat himself would never stoop so low to do.

"So what happened with," Demencia gestured outside where 505 was beating the fire down with a pine tree, "...all that?"

"Oh, well...The police managed to track my computer on my recent "heist" and so I had to make a run for it." Flug explained

Black Hat laughed bitterly, so the man failed to be a lesser villain at that. Weakling.

Flug continued, "So I made my way into town, where some crowd of people where having a wedding celebration. While being hunted by the cops, I didn't really blend in the crowd with the paper bag and all, so I had to hide in the dressing rooms. Apparently the bride left the ceremony early leaving her wedding dress and vail behind. No one else knew so I-"

"uh..."

Now both Demencia and Black Hat were laughing

"It hid my face well, alright?!" Flug said trying to justify himself,

"Anyway, I went through half the ceremony." he continued with Demencia laughing on the floor just imagining the situation, "Unfortunately my cover was blown and the police were back on my tail so I took out my plasma ray and shot at the wedding cake for a distraction as I ran out to the parking lot, thank god they had a private jet waiting outside with a "Just Married" painted on the tail wing, the nerve of those rich bastards..." As he muttered that last insult, Demencia interrupted with an enthusiastic wave of her hand,

"Wait, wait, wait" she commanded for a pause, "you said you had a plasma ray?"

"Yeah...for emergencies...doesn't everyone??"

"Where did you get it from?"

"Oh," said Flug, "I made it myself. It's one of my successful inventions. Being part of the digital black market you got to be prepared, buying weapons was too risky, so I make my own security..."

Demencia wides her eyes at Black Hat as in 'Holy Christ of Cow on a Shit Stick' where Black Hat shot back a glance that said, 'What Get your Glances straight, I can't Understand You?!' Demencia then stared back, 'Eagle is in the Nest!!' In which Black Hat raised his long ass eyebrows in a 'wHAT DOES THAT MEAN??' face, to which Demencia replied, 'GOOSE IN THE EGG' glance jabbing her head at the guest sitting blissfully unaware of their silent conversation at the end of the table babbling about mechanical claws and some alien-DNA-changing-Gucci-watch from space or something. Then Flug began to wrap up his tale,

"I mean I've never been to space, personally, but that's what I would do...Anyway, um, got a bit carried a away there... so I made it to the plane but was intercepted by one of the guards of the ceremony. So, from what you can guess with the blood and shoe, it's safe to say I made a pretty sloppy escape into a storm...and here I am!"

That made Demencia interrupt again, "Woah, how many times did you stomp him in the ground, five times?"

"More like twelve,"

"How can you tell??"

"From the number of holes in his skull..."

The table went silent and Black Hat grinned, a disgusting one at that, and Demencia only grinned back at Black Hat. Flug became a little uncomfortable under the gazes of his hosts, despite KILLING a man not even an HOUR ago??

Then Demencia broke the silence, loudly,

"IM GOING TO EXCUSE MYSELF TO THE KITCHEN, UH FLUG IT LOOKS LIKE YOU NEED SOME UTENSILS, riGHT??"

"Um....yeah, actually, uh, paper bag...and all..." Flug timidly replied, pointed at his mask

"OH good! Black Hat if you could 'help' me find the utensils in the kitchen?" She said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her excitement discreet,

"Can't you just give him yours?" questioned Black Hat,

Demencia threw her knife and fork into the kitchen,

"yEAH well, they're dirty and so are yours, that's no way to treat our guest!" She bravely grabbed Black Hat's sleeve and hoisted him from his seat, "Now into the kitchen and to the silverware we go!" Demencia chanted before disappearing into the kitchen with her boss.

Black Hat grew claws and snarled his teeth, "Touch. Me. Again, and I will swing you by your bush of a hairstyle!"

"Ooo, a new threat that one, but that's not the point! Don't you see?? We got a good catch!"

"What? For my company?? Please, all I see is a dimwit in a lunch bag that crashes planes into other people's fields! Honestly the fact that he is still alive in my presence is most shocking about him..." said Black Hat,

"He is what we need isn't he? And more! He's an weapon inventor who single handedly escape tax fraud while getting away with murder on a plane in a storm!" explained the demented witch hybrid, "and he's sitting right in front of you, quite literally, on a silver plate...! which I don't know why you don't just use the paper plates we bought?"

"It's less class! And we are not jumping into hiring just aNYbody! If he is an inventor, he has to prove himself worthy to even be sitting in my house! My company needs someone with perfectionist detail and character, he has shown a risky past in villainy, but what of his inventions? How do I know he will make them to my standards?" explained the dark master,

You're standards are a fucking roulette wheel,

Said the invisible narrator that nobody heard

Ok, even if this Flug WERE evil enough to work for the most powerful villain in the known universe, he had to be a perfectionist...but how to tell?

A wicked thought flashed through his monocle and the dark lord grinned,

"Demencia?" He asked quietly formulating his plan in his mind, "do you remember that take-out you brought from a few week's prior?"

The witch replied with confused hesitance, "Yeah? I think I might've left it in the back of the fridge,"

Black Hat teleported to the kitchen's cooler (the fridge, past me, being all "whimsical" and shit) and searched for a scruffy small take-out box next to some Red Bull and tinfoil wrapped dill pickles.

After finding what he needed, Black Hat pounded his fist on the box, crushing the cemented contents inside. Instead of opening it like a normal person would, but lacking anything humanly characteristics, it was expected. So whatever. Rice clumps spilled from the sides of the box and, with clawed fingers, Black Hat fished through the old leftovers to find a once steam wrinkled pea now tough and tainted yellow with age.

The dark top hat held the pea between the tips of his claws, inspecting it through his monocle as the Evil Queen would hold the poisoned apple thinking of her potential victim.

"Demencia," said the top hat demon with sly, "how many spare mattresses do we have in the guest rooms?"

"Oh damn...are we gonna finally build that Ultimate Pillow Fort of Doom?! That's great! I just bought (stole) enough mattresses to build a whole castle-!"

Black Hat cut her off,

"We are not building a damn Fortnite!" Clearly missing the use of youth culture reference,

"I have a plan, you go out there and distract our "guest" while I get everything into place."

Demencia, while suspicious of Black Hat's new scheme, went along with it and went back to the dinning room with a pair of chopsticks for utensils having forgotten that they were having pizza,

"Here you are! If you don't know how to use them, just stab the slice as if it where your enemy's liver!"

"Normally I'd go for the spinal column to draw out a painful death, but thank you anyways." Replied the paper bag wearing Hannibal Lector apparently,

Black Hat grinned, not once admitting he had high hopes to hire the strange visitor, and continued to the "guest" room.

<< Previous Next>>

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

First things first, I am a huge fan! Your Riverdale fics give me life. I share your love of making Jughead suffer. So I assume you have a whole bunch of request/prompts lined up but if you ever feel like it: I would love to see Jughed with pneumonia/bronchitis. Whichever you prefer and however you prefer :)

(Thanks so much for the kind words anon!! I am so glad you share my love of making jug suffer. I absolutely love researching illnesses so this was a lot of fun to do! This became very angsty but a whole lot of tooth rotting fluff in the end! Here’s jug with pneumonia and a worried Andrews fam.)

For most of his life the bright, warm light of the sun was a beacon of hope for Jughead. The summer was a sign of hope, a signal that he had made it through the cold winter, and that everything was going to be okay. He could be with Archie and Betty all summer, and he didn’t have to constantly go home to the darkness of his own family.

However when this past summer, Betty was away on an internship and life decided to take Archie Andrews away from him, Jughead had never felt this lonely in whole life. His mom and Jellybean left him to the darkness that was surely engulfing his father, and he didn’t even have his rock, Archie to cling on to. He felt so alone, so cold in this darkness, the sun seemed to be mocking him. He’d watch all the happy people bask in the sun while he felt trapped in this personal rain cloud that would never leave him.

To keep himself alive Jughead had told himself that the winter would be better for him, for everyone. However as the winter approached and arrived, things got worse. He had been homeless, Jason had actually been murdered, his father had been arrested and there was definitely darker things in Riverdale.

It had started with a cough, a typical winter ailment that he got every year, no biggie. But a cough wasn’t meant to last this long, Jughead was convinced it wasn’t meant to hurt this much.

His cough had worsened as him, Kevin and Betty investigated the death of Jason Blossom, Jughead desperate to bring some light to Riverdale and uncover the truth. It had been a cold, cold night, the air dry and unforgiving, frosty and painful to his lungs. It rained too, the droplets of water seeming to be from a frozen lake, icy and soaking him to the core. There, they found Jason’s jacket, and the truth he found was horrifying.

The stress of the next few days did no wonders to Jughead’s declining health and mental health. When he should’ve been getting better, he lay wide awake at night, afraid to shut his eyes in fear of the nightmares that plagued him. He clutched his small blanket in the Andrews garage, shivering, wanting it all to end.

The one thing the freezing cold garage did in his favour was the fact he could cough freely, not afraid of waking Archie had he been in the air mattress. However, he couldn’t quite ignore the nagging thought at the back of his mind telling him that coughs were not meant to hurt his chest that much, that they weren’t meant to be that deep, that wet, this teeth-chattering.

The phlegm certainly wasn’t  meant to be tinged with blood.

The next morning, as Jughead awoke to Archie swinging the back door open, presumably to wake him, he hadn’t felt that awful in his whole life.

His head caused the world to spin, and he couldn’t lift his head up because of how heavy he felt. His entire body was shivering, he felt so cold, literally frozen as if he had just fallen through the frozen Sweetwater River, and his teeth chattered with the cold. However, if he was so cold, he shouldn’t be radiating off heat, should he? The hot air coming out of his nostrils felt so uncomfortable.

Archie opened the door slowly, shivering lightly as he made his way into the freezing garage, immediately nervous that Jughead had spent the night here.

“Jug? You awake.”

“Yeah,” Jughead croaked out, his chest hurting, unbelievably tight. His breathing shouldn’t be this fast.

“Woah, you okay dude?”

“First thing in the morning, dude, calm your face,” Jughead joked forcefully, honestly not finding itself in him to be his regular, jokey self.

Archie noticed, worried that Jughead couldn’t even make a joke. When times got hard, Jughead could at least make a joke of his horrible situation. The fact that he couldn’t didn’t sit right with him.

“Get out of my face, Andrews. I’m going to get changed–unless you want to watch?” Jughead teased, trying to not sound congested.

Archie looked reluctant, but left anyway, making his way back to the kitchen.

Jughead walked into the kitchen, wearing one long sleeved t shirt underneath a hoodie, and a thick, shearling denim jacket on top, obviously trying to stop his shivering. However he still shook slightly, looking very pale besides his very pink cheeks and nose. His eye bags very dark against his pale skin, and his blue eyes dull and bleary.

“Morning Jughead,” Fred greeted, back facing him as he cooked the eggs.

Archie couldn’t even greet him, shocked by his appearance.

When Fred turned around, he was slightly surprised, “..Are you cold, Jug?”

Jughead shrugged, “Just a little. It is the winter after all.”

Fred didn’t even know what to do, “Jughead..uh..how are you feeling?”

Jughead looked up from the food he was playing with and gave him a forced smile, “Fine. Ready to seize the day.”

Archie and Fred didn’t even know how hey let Jughead out of the house and walk to school in the snow.

School would be a tricky situation because this was the worst possible day Jughead could be sick, Archie didn’t have any classes with him until Lunch. Meaning Archie had no way of having eyes on Jughead, and this worry prevented Archie from concentrating on any of his classes.

Jughead had spent his classes huddled going the radiator, grateful he sat at the back of the class, shivering and shaking. He felt extremely fevered, not able to concentrate on anything his teachers would say.

He was so bad, his coughing sounding so chesty and raspy that some of his classmates who had just been currently treating him like a murderer were concerned with him. Jughead squeezed his eyes shut, a hand to his chest as he struggled to breathe, his airways blocked by phlegm. He shivered with his fever, pulling his jacket closer to him and wishing he had worn more layers.

As the teacher let the class go off doing pairwork, she approached Jughead and looked at him with concern.

“You have to promise me that you’ll go to the nurse after this class, okay?” She said, worried.

Jughead’s teeth chattered, finding it hard to reply to her, “Y-yes, miss. I will.”

Of course, he didn’t.

Come geography Jughead was feeling worse, the pain in his chest as he coughed like he was being stabbed repeatedly. To make things worse he couldn’t breathe, choking on his own phlegm that refused to come out. He gasped for air, his chesty and phlegmy gasps sounding horribly weak and awful. He continued to choke, his vision growing hazy.

Ethel looked over at him and watched the pathetic display, managing to pat his back as he spat the phlegm out into a tissue she had offered him. “Jughead, please, I don’t think this is normal.”

Jughead knew at this point his voice was gone, so he only gave her a small, reassuring smile.

At the end of that class, Jughead had been wheezing yet again, walking out as he held a hand over his aching chest. He could barely breathe, his breathing short and rapid. Hell, he could feel his heart beating fast.

Jughead hacked pathetically into his arm, when a familiar pair of strong arms were holding him in place, to support him. Just a bit ago those same arms were pushing him into a locker. He looked up blearily, blue eyes watery and completely void of life.

“Go away, Reggie,” Jughead wheezed, his voice almost completely gone, a weak, raspy whisper.

“Jughead, please! You’re so sick, this isn’t normal,” Reggie pleaded, taking his shoulders. He wasn’t rough or cruel like he normally was, he was so worried and concerned, as if Jughead could just break into pieces in his arms right there. His actual name coming out of Reggie’s mouth was so weird, and his vision was just so blurry nothing felt real anymore. Jughead pushed past him, his chest on fire as he pushed himself on to the cafeteria where his friends were.

***

Kevin Keller was a hundred percent sure he had just seen a ghost.

It was the ghost of Jughead Jones, who looked like he was about to die just there, his body ready to succumb to death. The ghost of his friend approached the four of them, and the sight was so disturbing he gasped.

“Jughead?!” He yelped, causing the other three of his friends to whip around and watch as what was left of their friend approach them. He looked so awful that they didn’t even know what to do.

Jughead took his seat next to Kevin and Veronica, as if absolutely nothing was up. He didn’t say anything, looking off into the distance like his conscience was in some other plane of reality.

They were frozen, not knowing what to do.

“Jughead..?” Veronica finally said, voice quivering with fear.

The sight of him was horrifying; ghost white, looking like he was on the brink of death. Eyes sunken, with a pair of dark purple eyebags. His cheeks were flushed a horrible shade of red. He slouched, completely drained and unable to sit upright His entire frame shook like some sort of epicentre for an earthquake. He was the perfect image of illness. It was haunting.

Suddenly, Jughead erupted in the most horrendous fit he had yet, entire body convulsing like he had been possessed by a demon. He hacked, choking on his own phlegm. His entire body was shivering, gasping for air, short and rapid. His chest was on fire, someone was stabbing him with a flaming knife, viciously and brutally. It hurt so much.

He felt a ringing in his ears, all he could sense was the pain of his chest, and could faintly feel Kevin slapping his back, and Veronica feeling his pulse.

“Guys, it’s so fast!” Veronica screamed.

Jughead finally spat out the phlegm, tinged with blood.

“Oh my god!” Archie yelled and jumped out of his seat and ran, with Reggie Mantle running after him, hot on his heels as they ran for help.

“Juggy!” Betty screamed, crying.

Jughead looked up to see his hysteric friends, and all the worried other people, making out Ethel, and hell, even Cheryl Blossom looked terrified. There was screaming, too much was happening. His head pounded, vision shaking and blurring, breathing short and rapid. His attempts to breathe for longer hurt his chest, a sharp, stinging pain. His entire body ached, he felt like he was on fire, and yet shaking and shivering. Suddenly, he became void of all senses. He couldn’t feel anything.

Then there was darkness.

***

Archie paced the hospital hallway, his chest feeling right. He felt so anxious, breathing heavily. The hospital was so white, it was terrifying. So clean and orderly.

“Yes, Sheriff, I understand you can’t just allow random calls at random times, but please, FP deserves to know,” Fred argued on the phone, just as anxious as Archie.

A few minutes later, Sheriff gave up and handed the phone to FP.

“FP? I don’t even know how to say this,” Fred whispered guiltily.

“What is it, Fred? You here to finally admit I was better at the guitar than you?” FP joked.

“..No, Forsythe, it’s Jughead. He’s really sick, he passed out. We’re at the hospital–I don’t know what’s wrong, but he was coughing blood..”

FP was silent.

Eventually he’s spoke, “That’s my boy, Fred.”

“I know, FP, you just deserved to know.”

“No, no, you don’t understand. That’s my boy who never gave up on me. That boy who’s kind to everyone but what did he do to deserve this? This ain’t fucking fair! I can’t lose him! I love him so much, Fred! I don’t even think he knows that, Fred.”

“He knows that, FP. Listen, we’ll keep you posted, okay? The doctors will be out in a little bit.”

They continued to speak for a while but Archie couldn’t listen anymore, way too afraid. Once Fred hung up, Archie looked at him, tears in his eyes.

“Dad, he’s gonna be okay, right?” Archie whimpered, sounding so young.

Fred swallowed, “He’s a tough kid, Archie. He’ll pull through.”

“He shouldn’t have to be the tough kid,” Archie choked, tears streaming down his face.

“Arch,” Fred cooed, coming close to his son and holding him, kissing his forehead.

“I know Archie, he shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have made him feel unwelcome, I shouldn’t have let him go this morning. I’m so sorry Archie, blame me all you want, but I care for him too. I will do all in my power to make him better again, okay?” Fred whispered softly as Archie cried into his chest.

“I’m so scared,” Archie cried.

Fred sniffled, swallowing, “Me too, Arch.”

***

Half an hour later, one of the doctors came out of Jughead’s room.

“Mr Andrews?” She said softly.

“Yes, that’s me,” Fred piped up, as Archie who was asleep on his shoulder woke up immediately, rushing to her.

“I’m glad to be informing you Mr Jones will be just alright,” She smiled brightly.

Archie made an overwhelmed, happy noise, he lunged and hugged the doctor, “thank you thank you thank you thank you!!”

Archie pulled away and blushed, “Oh, sorry.”

The doctor laughed, “That is quite alright.”

Fred cleared his throat, “What’s wrong with him, doc?”

“Pneumonia. He had it pretty bad, as you know from what happened at the school, but we’ve patched him up enough so that there will be no negative effects later in life and that he should be better in two or three weeks.”

Fred sighed softly, “That’s great.”

“He will need continuous usage of antibiotics and must not leave the house, must get good sleep and rest,” She explained.

Archie looked anxious, “When will he be discharged?”

“He must stay for about a week for now, but he will be allowed visitors. In fact, would you like to visit him now? He’s awake.”

“Yes! Please!” Archie said excitedly.

“This way, then,” The Doctor  instructed as she held the doors open for the two of them and let them in.

“Oh my god, Jug!” Archie exclaimed as he saw Jughead sitting up, joking about something with one of the doctors.

Jughead looked over to see Archie and smiled, and gasped softly as Archie tackled him into a hug.

“Arch–” Jughead said softly, slightly suffocated.

Archie gasped, “Sorry!”

Jughead laughed, still raspy but a lot less deathly sounding, “It’s fine.”

“You really scared me, Jughead! The whole school thought you were dead!” Archie exclaimed.

Fred chuckled, “That really was quite a scare, Jughead.”

“Sorry about that,” Jughead said sheepishly.

Fred looked at Archie then sighed, “no kid, we should be sorry-no, I should be. I’m so sorry I made it seem like you weren’t welcome here, you are just as much of family as Archie is to me. Y'know, when FP called me to say Gladys was having his child Mary and I drove to the hospital with little Archie. When you were born, we were all together, we were all a family. We still are a family.”

Jughead smiled softly, but scrunched his nose, “Ew, so you’re telling me that this rat here is one of the first things I ever saw?!”

Archie laughed heartily.

Fred laughed, “That’s quite right. Jughead, FP and I made sure that as blood brothers, we had to take care of each other’s sons. I told FP that what if his son was a little shit? Well, you are a little shit, but you really are a great kid, Jug. We care about you so much. When you get discharged, I’m going to make sure that when you go home, it is a home.”

Jughead smiled softly, “I’m sorry for pushing you away and withdrawing.”

Archie shook his head, “We never should have let you disappear.”

Jughead groaned, “Stop fighting with me, I’m sick, let’s just all agree we all fucked up!”

They all laughed.

Just then, Jughead began to cough again, eyes squeezed shut at the burning sensation of his cough, wet and deep. Before he started to choke, a nearby doctor coaxed the coughs out. He spat out into a tissue and threw it into the wastebin, finally resting against the pillow and took a good minute to catch his breath.

“Poor kid,” Fred muttered softly, taking in the pale features of his second son and approached him, pushing back the messy black curls that had fallen into his face as he coughed.

Archie watched in concern, wondering how he could help when his phone buzzed, opening it to see Veronica was facetiming.

“Ooh! I think they want to see you!” Archie grinned.

Jughead flipped his hair, “Of course they want to see the absolute beauty that is moi!”

Archie answered the call, coming close to Jughead so they could see him, to see Kevin, Veronica, Betty, Reggie, Ethel and oddly, Cheryl in the frame.

“HE’S ALIVE!” Kevin squealed.

“Lookin’ good, Wednesday Adams,” Reggie teased, pointing at his hospital gown and all the tubes in him.

“Jughead, you scared the shit out of us!!” Veronica exclaimed.

“Juggie, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Betty cooed.

“Get better soon, Jughead!” Ethel smiled.

“Ugh, he’s alive, guys. Can we all go now?” Cheryl rolled her eyes, but they could all see that Cheryl was secretly relieved and happy.

They spoke for a while, and as the call ended Fred started to call the Sheriff.

***

“Fred! Is my boy okay?!” FP breathed out through Fred’s phone.

“Hi dad,” Jughead said softly.

“Oh my god, Jug..Jug! You’re okay..thank god! I was beginning to think..it’s so good to hear your voice..”

“I’ll survive, dad.”

“You just might.”

Jughead could faintly hear the Sheriff telling FP he didn’t have much time.

“Listen–Jug, I don’t have a lot of time..”

“I love you, dad,” Jughead whimpered.

FP froze.

“I love you too, Jug,” FP choked, clearly teary.

“I miss you so much,” Jughead sniffled, one tear rolling down his cheek.

“I miss you so much Jug, there’s not one day that passed by where I wish we were all together. But I did bad things, Jughead, inexcusable. I need to pay for what I did. You understand that, don’t you, Jug?”

“I do.”

“..I am so sorry, Jughead. For not being the father I should’ve been, the one you deserve. I’m so sorry about this, but please know that I never for one second stopped loving you,” FP whispered.

“I know dad, I know. I never gave up, I never will,” Jughead cried.

“You’ll be okay, you’ll pull through. C'mon lion, brave through it and seize the day, I know you can,” FP chuckled.

“I will dad, I always do,” Jughead whispered.

“I’ll come home to you someday,” FP managed to say before Sheriff Keller took the phone back.

Jughead bit back a sob, whispering to himself, “I know you will.”

***

The morning he was to be discharged, Jughead began to gather all his Get Well Soon presents. He coughed, not quite as chesty or deep as it had been, and certainly did not feel like he was being stabbed repeatedly. He smiled fondly as he looked at them.

A beautifully crafted handmade card from Ethel, a not so beautifully crafted handmade card from Reggie, a fancy card from Veronica with some luxury gourmet chocolates and snacks, a simple, pretty card from Betty and a container of her signature soup, a nice card from Kevin who had sent some snacks, and a bit of money from Cheryl who helped pay for some of the hospital bill and medicine. The family was loaded, and her parents didn’t even notice she took some.

Jughead hadn’t felt so loved in so long. The winter seemed to be just a bit brighter.

And finally, a picture of Jughead, Archie and Fred during movie night on top of an application for Legal Guardianship.

“Ready to go home, Jug?” Archie grinned.

“Born ready.”

[flutteringphalanges]

Not Your Average Prophecy

Summary: Chloe is quite certain she’s seen it all. Her partner, and now boyfriend, is the actual Devil himself. She’s got a demon of a roommate, both figuratively and literally. And of course you can’t forget to throw in Lucifer’s angel of a brother, Amenadiel. But when Los Angeles’ favorite detective becomes pregnant, everyone is in for a ride. FFN and AO3

((I hope you guys enjoy! Also I don’t remember my Latin classes so I relied on a translation site so it probably sucks royally. But translations at the end! Comments are greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen))

                       Chapter Two: The Second Seal

"Just so you know, my room's off limits to becoming a nursery," Maze smirked, not at all silenced by her roommate's stare of death. "But maybe we could shove it in the closet…"

"Maze."

"Or in the kitchen! Forget a crib, we can repurpose the bottom shelf of the oven! Lucifer is from Hell after all, so there is a fifty percent chance your spawn will be immune to fire."

"Maze."

"If it isn't, you can just make a new one right? Humans are good at repopulating."

"Maze!"

Finally the demon fell silent, her eyes now completely focused on Chloe's very evident expression of irritation. But instead of making Maze feel a pinch of regret for her reaction to the news of Chloe's non-immaculate conception, the demon's grin only stretched wider. You can take a demon out of Hell, but you can't take the Hell out of a demon. By now, one would think the detective would be used to her friend's flawed personality. And in a way she was. But in another way she wasn't.

"I'm not…" Chloe exhaled, averting her gaze from Maze. "Lucifer…" She shook her head, breathing sharply through her nose. "I'm not putting my baby to sleep in an oven. Especially not when you get up in the middle of the night to make a pizza...and nine and half times out of ten you don't even take it out of the box."

"Hey," Maze held up a finger. "I only caused three fires and I put them out before they spread."

"I put them out!" Chloe argued. "You just...I...never mind."

At this point, she wanted nothing more than to fall back to sleep. Or wake up and this all be a nightmare. The latter, of course, was the more desirable option. But there would be none of that now that her literal hellion of a friend knew her little secret. Christ, if things couldn't get any worse. Her head had begun to hurt as the nausea made its unwelcomed reappearance. Easing herself out of bed, Chloe roughly plucked the test out of Maze's hand and attempted to toss it into the bedside trashcan. Of course, since life itself was apparently against her, it completely missed the intended target and smacked against the wall. Chloe didn't bother to retrieve it.

"We're not going to talk about this anymore," she muttered, voice too weary to sound threatening. "And you aren't going to mention this to anyone. Especially Lucifer. Or I'll…" Chloe sighed, her headache only worsening the situation at hand. "I'll...think of something…"

She was already in the bathroom before Maze had a moment to respond. Stomach twisting, she gripped the edges of the sink, trying to square breathe with the hopes of not getting sick. Thankfully, after a long minute, the queasiness subsided enough for Chloe to feel confident that she could return to her bed without the risk of puking.

By the time she reentered her room, Maze was nowhere to be seen. At least the demon had the decency to know when to call it quits. With a deep exhale, Chloe collapsed onto the mattress. Between the headache and added stress-thanks to Maze-exhaustion weighed heavily on the detective with surprising strength. One moment she had felt wide awake from the anxiety brought on by her roommate's discovery of her pregnancy, and the next like...well, this. Either unable to fight it or unwilling to, Chloe allowed the tendrils of unconsciousness pull her under and away from the realm of reality.

It was the sharp pain that immediately brought Chloe to. Like a two-pronged pitchfork heated with fire, something was pressing against the inside of her abdomen. Or someone. The urge to cry out ached in Chloe's chest, but no matter how hard she tried, no sound escaped. To her horror, when she attempted to struggle, Chloe couldn't even move.

From her prison, she could only look upwards and try to make out her surroundings. Straining her eyes, Chloe managed to figure out she was in some sort of room. A very, very dark room that was only lit by a circle of candles-whose lights were almost swallowed by the blackness. It was then she heard footsteps. Not one set. Not two. But several.

Suddenly, where there had once been empty space, a group of hooded people surrounded the detective from her place of helplessness. Whether it was due to the lack of light, their cloaks, or-god forbid, an absence of faces, Chloe was left paralyzed and silent to her captors. Heart pounding, pain growing worse in her stomach, a second, new noise met her ears. Chanting.

The language was not something she recognized. Latin? Aramaic? Something else? Wide eyed, she tried to look to each shrouded figure with as much desperation as she could muster. But it proved useless and she could only lie there incapacitated as their voices grew in volume. By now, the pain was unbearable, almost like she was being torn apart from the inside.

"Sulphuris et ignis a Deo de terra."

Of the many occupants, Chloe's gaze landed on the one who spoke. Until now, she hadn't realized how much he-or it-stood out from the others. Tall, thin, he clutched something in his hand that she couldn't quite make out. Dizzy from fear and pain, she continued to remain helpless.

"Laudamus te regulae servi tui, et benedicat vobis in salutem populi tui primogenita vendidisset," the deep voice continued. "De pugione a sanguine terrestrium et falsis mulier de igne et sulphure: et non receperint ipsi devote puero tuo. Benedicite sit, Deus!"

It's then that the cloaked man revealed the object he had been clutching so dearly...a twisted, sharp knife. No, not a knife. A dagger. It had not been created with the intent of being a cooking device. No. It was clear to Chloe the thing had been made for one thing, and the idea of its purpose turned fear into utter terror.

The detective tried once more to move, straining to force her muscles to work through the pain in her lower stomach. The man bearing the dagger now held it raised over the general area of Chloe's womb, another member pulling back the cloth of her outfit to expose her pale skin. The scream caught in her throat made it feel as if her lungs were close to bursting. And, unable to do anything but stay silent and still, she can only watch as the figure brings the blade down hard.

The amount of air that filled Chloe's lungs as she snapped awake almost hurt her chest. It didn't help that her heart was pounding from the nightmare adrenaline rush. Even though she knew it was silly, her eyes still scanned around the room, making sure that it truly had been nothing more than a dream. No cloaked people. No knives. No stabbed stomach. She exhaled, shaking slightly before turning her attention to the alarm clock.

9:00 A.M.

Shit.

She was supposed to be at work an hour ago. A full hour. Never had she been late-at least, not to this extent or without giving any sort of prior knowledge. Shooting out of bed, Chloe hurried into the bathroom and tried to make herself as presentable as one is able to in less than five minutes. Unshowered, hair somewhat in disarray, Chloe rushed out of her room, all the while trying to pretend she doesn't feel the nausea that has begun to unsettle in her gut.

"Detective!"

Just like that, Chloe's heart skipped a beat as her eyes fell upon the man standing by the front door. Smiling, obviously oblivious, Lucifer met Chloe's stare, clearly not noticing the look of panic that has masked her face. He stepped forward and the detective also noted that, by the kitchen, Maze has positioned herself against the wall. She's smirking, but by Lucifer's expression, she hadn't told him Chloe's current state. Of course, Maze would ultimately want something in return for her "friendship job" but that wasn't her concern right now. Still, this did nothing to help the anxiety she felt, and certainly added that much more to the bile that was bubbling in her stomach.

Attempting to straighten herself up, she forced a smile on her face. Currently, her body was having a civil war with itself, and Chloe almost had to bite her tongue to keep from gagging. Lucifer brow furrowed, expression growing slightly serious and concerned. With one hand gripping the edge of the counter top, and the other touching her mouth, the detective swayed. She didn't even notice that Maze was now at her side, grabbing awkwardly at her hair to keep it out of her face. Lucifer took a few steps closer, no longer showing any of his usual charm and uppity attitude. Instead, his features were etched with worry.

"Chloe?"

And, as if in a crudely humorous response, she vomited everywhere.

Sulphuris et ignis a Deo de terra: "God of the sulfur and fiery land"

Laudamus te regulae servi tui, et benedicat vobis in salutem populi tui primogenita vendidisset: "We praise you, servants of your rule, and bless upon you the deliverance of your firstborn"

De pugione a sanguine terrestrium et falsis mulier de igne et sulphure: et non receperint ipsi devote puero tuo. Benedicite sit, Deus!: "From the blood of earthly woman and dagger forged from fire and brimstone, we welcome and devote ourselves to your child. Bless it be, God!"

[stophookingatmeswan]

And All This Devotion (1/1)

Happy Valentine’s Day, @once-upon-a-captain-swan!

Hi, dollface! I’m your CSSV and had so much fun writing this for you. I’ve enjoyed our little chats over the last few weeks and I hope you enjoy the story. I tried to put as many little touches of you in it as I could. 

xoxo,

Megan

****

The knock came at 2:05. It was tentative, barely pulling Killian out of a dreamless sleep and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. Fuzzy-brained, he was a second away from chalking it up to a rattling pipe or noise from the street when another knock came, this one more insistent. 

Tossing the covers off and cursing as he kicked his feet free from the tangled sheet, he padded through the living room, throwing the deadbolt and dramatically pulling the door open, ready to give his untimely visitor hell while wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs and a scowl.

The piss and vinegar was short-lived when his eyes fell onto the figure standing in the hallway. 

Her face was red and blotchy with strands of blonde hair sticking to tear tracks. A cheap diaper bag, stretched to the limits and overflowing, was slung over her shoulder, one of those infant car seats designed for carrying at her feet, the baby inside asleep. 

Chin lifting just enough to convey some measure of pride, her eyes wouldn’t rise enough meet his. When she spoke it was to the dog tags resting on his chest.

“We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

**** 

He’d left them. Run off with another woman while she was at work, leaving behind nothing more than a few clothes, an eviction notice and heartbreak. She and the baby had been sleeping in her car for weeks, her job lost due to not having money for a babysitter, moving around to different parks and parking lots to avoid being ticketed for loitering. It was an exhausting way to live at best and dangerous at worst. 

The final straw had been witnessing a midnight scuffle that turned bloody, the assailant tossing the knife he’d used to stab a man as he ran past her beat up yellow VW, yelling, “If you tell the cops, you’re next, bitch!”

The open-palmed smack he’d delivered to her window had both terrified her and woken Henry, who had been sleeping peacefully in her arms.  As her son started to wail, so did she, hot tears of frustration, anger and shame flowing with no signs of stopping. She quickly consoled Henry, popping him into his car seat and a pacifier into his mouth, the trilling hum of the car’s engine lulling him back under as she left the park, trying to convince herself she was driving aimlessly when she damn well knew she wasn’t.

“Any time, Swan.”

“You’re always welcome.”

“Anything you need.”

It would take her two hours and nearly all the gas she had left in her tank to make the drive to find out those words once spoken were true. 

****

“You look tired. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”

Emma didn’t have to look up from the steaming mug of tea he’d brought her to know Killian’s eyebrows shot up when she mumbled, “Month, maybe.” The Earl Grey was nowhere near as interesting as her intense stare may have suggested, but it kept her from seeing any pity he be may throwing her way. Aside from an initial sweep to ensure he hadn’t moved and that the man opening the door in his underwear was her old friend from high school and not a random stranger, she really hadn’t looked at him much at all, and she balked when he said her name softly, shaking her head. 

“It’s okay. It’s been a little rough lately. I just – we need a place for the night, then I’ll figure something out in the morning. I wouldn’t have asked but – Henry.” Voice trailing off, Emma barely caught the sob working its way from the back of her throat, but the teardrop falling into her tea was almost deafening.

The couch shifted, the three-foot gap Killian had left between them as if she were a skittish kitten after his trip to the kitchen suddenly filled. He smelled the same, the softness of the ratty tee shirt he’d pulled on hauntingly familiar and both served to undo any strength she had left to keep up a wall.

She let her cheek fall onto his shoulder as his arms circled her, stronger and more muscled than they used to be after a stint in the Navy, and Emma let herself melt into his embrace, her shoulders wracking as she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore. 

**** 

The morning brought two waves of panic that raced like ice water through Emma’s veins.

One, she was in a bed, not her car. When the events of the previous night rushed back and she realized Killian must have brought her into the guest bedroom.  Two, when she leaned over the edge of the mattress expecting to see Henry asleep in his ring of pillows only to find he was gone. 

Jumping up, Emma raced out of the room, stopping short when she saw two dark heads at the small kitchen table.

Henry was in Killian’s lap, happily fisting what looked like Gerber puffs and drooling copiously over the wrist their host had wrapped firmly around the baby’s midsection to keep him upright. Emma pressed a hand to her chest, partly to ground herself after the moment of panic and partly to quell the tug on her heartstrings at the sight of someone acting more fatherly to Henry than his own had a day in his short life.

“Morning, Swan. Coffee maker’s over there.” Killian’s head jerked toward the counter next to the sink and the smile on his face faded when she didn’t move. “I hope this is okay.” He looked over at the Gerber canister and then to the crushed, gummy mess in Henry’s hand. “I watch Liam’s kids sometimes and their youngest is right around his age and loves these things.” Killian’s eyes widened comically. “He doesn’t have any of those allergies, does he? Like…soy? Or gluten?” 

As Killian grabbed the canister and scowled at it, Henry kicked his legs and started babbling, giving Emma a toothless grin. He looked happy and she felt more rested than she had since everything had gone to Hades in a hand basket. And coffee did sound good. Maybe a night away from the current wave of bullshit the universe was currently handing them was something they both needed. 

“Those are fine for Henry. Uh, thanks.” She took the baby from his lap and nudged Killian with her other hip as she walked past him to the Keurig, stopping short when she saw the box of hot chocolate K-cups and a plastic shaker of cinnamon; a throwback to their high school days when everyone they knew gleefully ordered double espressos just because they could while Emma wrinkled her nose and artfully sprinkled spice on the extra tall swirl of whipped cream on her own drink. 

A lump rose in her throat. 

Killian had always been too much.

Too nice.

Too giving.

Too open.

Too earnest.

Too willing to give her his heart.

Too willing to shoulder her burdens.

It made her want to run.

Haphazardly fixing herself a cup of the breakfast blend coffee in a box next to the hot chocolate and leaving the nostalgia where it sat on the counter, Emma turned and went back to the table, putting down her mug and apologizing when the baby blew a raspberry and what was left of the puffs he’d been hording in his mouth like a hamster landed all over the table. She took a sip of coffee after settling with Henry and looked down at her cup. 

“Thanks for letting us crash with you. I think we’ll get on the road after I finish this.” 

To avoid looking at Killian, she busied herself with Henry’s hair. At four months, most of the sides and back had fallen out – totally normal according to the ratty copy of a child development book she’d found at a thrift store while pregnant. The shedding had left him with a tuft of hair on the top of his head and not much else. Emma thought it was adorable and buried her nose in it, dreaming of the day he’d smell like Johnson’s baby shampoo and powder again instead of the industrial soap from gas station bathrooms.

“Swan –“

She didn’t wait to hear him out. Taking a last gulp of coffee, Emma stood, slung the baby onto her hip and walked back to the guest bedroom, praying to a God she wasn’t sure was even listening that Killian wouldn’t follow her. 

No such luck.

Putting Henry down in his pillow ring for some tummy time, Emma started gathering their meager things. Her stomach churned just thinking about the impending awkwardness of leaving made infinitely worse by the weight of Killian’s stare from where he leaned against the doorway.

“Stay.” 

The casualness of his tone was designed to put her at ease and Emma cursed internally because it almost worked. She faltered just a bit before picking Henry up off the floor and putting him into his car seat. 

“I can’t. We have to go.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. 

“Go where?”

Dammit.

Her pause gave Killian the opening he needed.

“I have a proposal for you.”

It wasn’t funny and he didn’t mean it matrimonially but Emma chortled anyway. A few weeks ago she had a fiancé and an apartment and a real family. And now? Now she had a broken heart, a literal mobile home and a son whose father had abandoned him. She didn’t think she had it in her to accept any more proposals. 

“And for Henry.”

Emma’s temper rose in a flash and she stood, turning on Killian. 

****

“Don’t use him like that. Don’t use him to get me to accept your charity.”

Emma looked him dead in the eye now and, for a split second, Killian pitied the idiot who had left her high and dry should she ever catch up to him. Luckily, he was used to this version of Emma – the one for whom fighting was a natural state – and Killian went on calmly.

“I have an empty room.” He gestured with flourish. “I have a flexible schedule. It’s one of the perks of managing the bar instead of being a lackey. That means if someone needed a babysitter while they got a job to get back on their feet, one would be available.”

He could see the wheels turning in Emma’s head and Killian wanted to simultaneously roll his eyes over her stubbornness and pride, and high five her for the bone-deep tenacity she had to make her own way. Tossing Henry into the mix was risky and, if he was being honest, a pretty low blow, but desperate times call for dick move measures.

“I’d pay you.” She said it quickly and definitively, crossing her arms.

“After you’re settled.”

“Jones.” 

“Swan.” 

She bit at her lower lip with her teeth, eyes darting to Henry who had fallen asleep, a pile of smushy baby with his chin resting on his chest. 

“Just until I can afford a place of my own.” 

“Of course.” He crossed his own arms and, when he saw her gaze leave his, flexed his pecs to make them jump. Her laugh was short, but he’d take it.

“And you don’t buy anything for Henry. He’s my responsibility.” 

“Understood.” Killian gave her a cheeky grin and saluted.

“Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.” Emma’s head tilted and she grinned back as he bowed dramatically. 

“I would despair if you did.”

**** 

Emma recognized that look - the darting eyes, the spiking adrenaline, the wistfulness, and the fear. The hunger. 

And as the young girl in the same too-large shoes and the flannel with the worn out elbows reached for the box on the shelf with one hand while fidgeting with the flap on her book bag, Emma pretended to be occupied with one of the toys hanging on Henry’s carrier, Killian in the next aisle over muddling over exotic spices Emma had never even heard of. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl stuff the box into her bag – strawberry, her favorite, too – and Emma took a few quick steps to grab the thin wrist before it could clear the dirty khaki canvas.

“Take it out and come with me.” 

The girl, scared into silence, walked beside Emma as she grabbed a few more things, meeting back up with Killian and rolling her eyes as he bent to pick up one of the many jars he was juggling. Before she could say a word, he turned and popped a butt cheek out in her direction. 

“What the hell are you doing, twerking in the grocery store?” Emma looked down at the proffered ass. “Get that away from me.” She laughed as he bumped it even more in her direction, giving her a salacious grin. 

“There’s a twenty in my pocket. Take it to cover these.” He held up his treasures. “Who’s this?”

He finally noticed the girl standing by Emma’s cart and went back to standing normally once the money had changed ownership. 

“A friend. Let’s get Henry moving before he realizes we’re standing in one place and loses it.”

Heading to the checkout, Killian made quick work of emptying her cart onto the conveyer belt and when he finished loading and moved forward, she nodded to the box of Pop Tarts the girl was holding.

“Put them on.”

The girl balked, shuffling her feet. A hand with bitten nails came up to tuck a lank of neglected hair behind her ear. 

“I don’t understand. I thought you were going to turn me in.”

“I don’t think you need help getting into trouble. But I’d bet you could use a little help staying out of it. Put ‘em on.”

Emma stepped to the register and counted out the cash for her purchase. Money was tight and she was still counting every penny, but two months of working in a bail bonds office afforded her the ability to trade off with Killian when it came to buying the weekly groceries along with taking care of Henry and saving for an apartment. When she heard a gurgling laugh, she looked back to see the girl making a silly face at Henry and cooing at him. 

Killian caught her eye as Emma shuffled a few things around in the grocery bags, raising an inquisitive eyebrow but she shook her head. Emma thanked the cashier and grabbed few of the bags, watching as the girl rushed to help then blushed and apologizing when Emma bumped into her. 

“No, those two are yours,” Emma said as the last of the bags came off the carousel. “There’s some bread and peanut butter in there, and some apples. And Pop Tarts.”

She started pushing the cart toward the exit, Killian quiet – for once - at her side, and heard the slap of sneakers coming up behind them. They were ten feet past the doors before the girl was able to step in front of her.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Look, kid. I’ve been where you are. I get the pride. I get feeling like you have nothing. I even get slipping some things in your pockets just to have something in common with the kids at the next lunch table. And I’ve had somebody help me out before. So…just take it and pay it forward when you can.”

The girl nodded, blinking back tears and mumbling a thank you. As she darted off around the store, Emma looked at Killian. His eyes were soft, searching her face and he shook his head slightly as he stared at her.

“Just who are you, Swan? 

It sounded like a loaded question and coupled with that look – the one he’d been giving her for months when he doesn’t think she’s looking as she rocked Henry to sleep or they fought over the small sink in the bathroom in the mornings – it was too much.

Whipping her ponytail over her shoulder, she started toward her car, tossing a flippant, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” back to where Killian was standing.

As she turned her back and walked away, she could have sworn she heard him say, “Perhaps I would.”

****

Killian knew he’d had his share of women. Probably more than his share. And he knew from the long-distance relationship that hadn’t worked out when he was in the Navy to the string of one-night-stands since that “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” was an apt description on occasion. That he was prepared for, learning as a sixth grader watching his older brother navigate the early waters of dating and getting an earful over the phone for stupidly breaking up with one girl to ask out her friend.

What he hadn’t known about, and was currently getting a crash course in as Henry wailed uncontrollably, was that hell also hath no fury like a teething baby. 

He swayed in the living room with an armful of sweaty, angry baby going through the list of remedies in his head. 

Henry had chucked the teething ring behind the sofa the second it had thawed and no longer provided icy relief. The Tylenol Killian had carefully measured out and given him couldn’t touch the pain from cutting four teeth at the same time. Neither could the Orajel he’d massaged on Henry’s gums. Even his favorite – a slice of cold celery to chew on that was carefully monitored to ensure he didn’t bite of a piece and choke – was flung aside in favor of screaming. 

Two seconds away from calling Emma on the chance the only thing that Henry really wanted was his mom, Killian’s brain floated above the deafening sounds of crying and offered a last-ditch idea.

As he walked down the hallway to Emma’s room – it hadn’t been called the guest room since the second night she’s stayed – chatting to Henry over his bellows. 

“Alright, kiddo. Your mom is working overtime trying to catch that skip, so we’re doing to give this a shot.” He went to Emma’s dresser, sparsely decorated with a few garage sale and Dollar Store finds, and picked up a necklace and slipped it over his own head.

**** 

Counting the cash in the envelope twice before letting herself believe it, Emma’s hand smacked down onto her steering wheel. 

“BOOM!” 

She’d done it. Six months since the man Killian had officially dubbed “That Asshole” had left her and she’d knocked on Killian’s door in the middle of the night with twelve dollars to her name, she’d done it. There was finally enough money to get an apartment and even furnish it if she bargain-shopped.

The grin on her face stretched from ear to ear and, after a long night of getting dolled up for her “date” with a skip who’d tried to run on her and cried like a little bitch when she gave chase and tackled him to the pavement, she felt like celebrating. 

The time on her phone said she had fifteen minutes to hit the liquor store before they closed, so she drove as fast as a pair of 6” honey heels would allow. Ignoring the double take the employee did when his last customer of the night came in wearing a skin-tight dress and FMPs, Emma went straight to the small section of champagne. Looking over the labels, she threw up her hands when she realized she had no idea what to get. Eighty dollars was still a bit steep for her and the only brands she recognized were in that price range. And what the hell was Brut? 

Scrubbing her hands over her face, Emma huffed and reached out for a pretty (and affordable) bottle of something pink, reminding herself she needed to get home.

**** 

Her chest seized up the minute she stepped through the door, her purse and the bottle of champagne left behind on a small table as she quietly kicked off her shoes. 

They were both asleep sprawled on the couch, Henry’s face squished against a faded Navy tee shirt, his chubby hand clutching the amber teething necklace that was around Killian’s neck. The baby was only wearing a diaper and Emma could see that his hair – long grown in from his four-month-old Mohawk – was lightly matted with dried sweat. There was a puddle soaking Killian’s shirt near Henry’s mouth and that – along with the burp clothes they were using to deal with the copious amounts of baby drool, discarded sticks of celery, a tube of Orajel and the infant Tylenol on the coffee table – painted a clear picture of how their night had gone.

Emma drank in the sight; two dark heads, tandem soft snores. She’d found them on the couch like that more than once coming home after a late night at work. 

Her boys.   

Her…loves. 

The word flew into her head and she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. She backed up until her knees hit the chair by the window and she sank down into it.

Before she could even start figuring out what the hell it all meant, Henry whimpered at the noise she’d made. Emma started to stand but the large hand on his back started to move and a soothing whisper of, “Shhh, shhh, shhh” quieted him back down.

“I hope your night was better than ours.” Killian’s whisper was rough but she could see him smile as he lifted his chin up and over the top of Henry’s head to look at her. 

Swallowing hard, Emma pushed the word down and plastered a smile on her face. 

“I had to dress like a Kardashian hitting up the number one paparazzi-staked gas station in Beverly Hills to reel in a skip who ran on me anyway.” 

Killian made a show of looking her up and down, tongue tracing over his upper lip. 

“Dumb as hell on his part, but go on – wait, is that blood??” He braced a hand behind Henry’s neck and swung his legs off the couch, holding the baby tightly to his chest as he sat up and craned his neck to look at the road rash decorating her leg.

“Yeah, but I caught him.” She couldn’t keep the pure satisfaction out of her voice. “And,” she took a dramatic pause for effect, “I scored a commission. Do you know what that means?” Emma propped her elbow on a knee and dropped her chin into her hand, leaning forward and waggling her eyebrows at Killian. “It means that I finally have the money to move out.”

“Oh.” He paused, an unreadable look on his face before it brightened. “That’s great, Swan. I’m happy for you. For you both.” His chin dropped as he pressed a kiss to the top of Henry’s head. “This one’s had one hell of an evening. Do you think he’d stay asleep if I put him down?”  

Crossing over to the couch, Emma leaned over and picked up the hand not holding the necklace, raised it a few inches and let go. 

“I guess we have our answer,” Killian said as they watched it drop with no startle reflex. Emma reached for Henry as Killian stood. “No, no, I’ll take him. You tend to that gash on your leg before you get gangrene and it falls off.”

They peeled off in the hallways with Emma giving Henry a kiss, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo and muttering, “You’re so dramatic” to Killian’s back as he went to put Henry to bed. She nearly walked into the doorframe when he stage whispered but you love me in retort and she couldn’t get into the bathroom and close the door fast enough before almost hyperventilating.

Leaning over the sink, she splashed cold water on her face as if the flow from the faucet could drown the thoughts racing through her head.

But you love me.

She didn’t believe in fate. Or magic. Or fairy tales. Or that orphans found happy endings with deliciously pretty men with big hearts and blue eyes. But the tiny part of her that wasn’t walled up and jaded wanted to believe it was a sign. That’s she’d just been thinking that maybe she loved him not five minutes before he said the same thing.

The first aid kit under the sink was tidy and, of course, fully stocked. Emma squeezed her eyes shut when she saw a bundle of Elmo Band-Aids; damn sure Killian hadn’t bought them for himself. But he’d always been like that. 

He had always been there. Even when she didn’t want him to be. Even when she’d run, scared of all of the devotion he’d always had in his eyes when they were in school, and gone to live a life with someone else. Someone who had never promised to give her the world so she wouldn’t be disappointed when he didn’t. Because nobody ever had.

He was even there when she’d shown up with that other man’s baby at his door. But was that it? Gratitude and a sense of obligation disguised as love? With a bone-deep, ridiculously strong attraction contributing to it? 

She felt like they’d been dancing around something for months.

The first sign – aside from his piercing gaze - was the unwillingness to talk about why neither of them had gone on dates since she and Henry moved in. Emma’s hasty excuse made sense; she was concentrating on herself and her son, not looking for a rebound. Killian abruptly got up to get another beer and when he’d come back to the table, the subject was pointedly changed before she could press him. 

Then there was the morning she’d walked in on him while he was getting out of the shower. Exhausted from a rough night with Henry, she’d pushed the door to the bathroom open without a thought and got an eyeful. Lean muscles and rivulets of water running down his belly to where he’d managed to loosely clutch a hastily grabbed towel over himself. Mostly.

The visual had stayed with her. Wet hair slicked back, making the curve of his cheekbones more prominent. The v-cut just inside his hipbones. And, as her eyes traveled down, the length of him along his thigh just barely hidden by the towel. 

Emma had avoided him for a week until he reeled her in on Saturday night with spag bol, a moderately priced bottle of Pinot Grigio loosening her tongue. She brought up that night. The one their senior year where they’d kissed messily on a camping trip, pouring three years of what ifs and maybes into a stolen moment in the trees. It had scared her and she ran without looking back. The morning after she clumsily tripped down memory lane, she wondered if Killian had the same stunned, slightly hurt look on his face then as he did when she drunkenly leaned in four years later over empty pasta dishes and tried to kiss him. He’d dodged, bussed her cheek and walked her to her bedroom before going on to his own.

Since that night, she’d been careful. Careful to not lead on, although she wasn’t quite sure who she was worried about leading on – him or herself.

**** 

A by-product of his military days had Killian hanging Emma’s purse up on a hook by the door and lining up her discarded shoes next to his on the mat while she was cleaning herself up in the bathroom. He’d seen scores of women in heels just like that but none could have held a candle next to her when she’d come out of her room, the stilettos paired with a red dress that made his head swim and the bulge in his pants twitch. She was unbelievably sexy and that was just the surface. Her toughness, intelligence, tenacity and kindness shone just as bright as the cascade of blonde hair and ass that wouldn’t quit. 

He’d been trying his hardest to not let his brain go there. For all of her strength, Emma carried a certain degree of fragility, and he didn’t want to push her or, even worse, think that she owed him something for letting her and Henry stay with him.

They’d had a connection from the day she’d shown up in his English class halfway through sophomore year, all darting eyes and fidgeting fingers worrying the hem of her shirt as Mrs. Wolfe instructed her to tell the class about herself. It wasn’t until the following year during a rare moment of candor that he found out she wasn’t a military brat whose Naval father had been moved around a lot. 

Emma had popped up in their town as a ward of the state, her transience a byproduct of bad foster homes and a system that had never worked in her favor. He supposed the pretend life she’d made up for herself was part of the reason he’d joined the Navy; a fool’s hope that he could be the stable home she so desperately wanted and that the rigidity of the military could rid him of his youthful, rakish ways.

She’d kissed him the night he told her he was shipping out, all teeth and tongue with a sand dune at his back and an order for him to not follow her when she’d had her fill. Killian always wondered if she’d succumbed to a moment of weakness or if the news he was leaving gave her the strength to let him in, even just momentarily, because the safety net of him leaving made it easier. Either way it had left him pining, the only reprieve a relationship with another sailor that started out strong but fizzled when she was reassigned and the distance was too hard to bridge.

Emma herself had moved on quickly from their shared moment, moving in with someone who had graduated a few years before them the ink on her diploma had dried. Killian stayed single for a while, scratching the itch whenever the need arose, but the drive to find someone else wasn’t there until news of Emma’s engagement hit his email inbox by way of a mutual friend. The universe was telling him to move on and he did, sending a congratulatory Hallmark card that gushed with a sincerity he didn’t really feel. 

It was harder to be bitter when word of her pregnancy reached halfway across the world. He was happy for Emma and the chance for her to have the family she deserved. By the time Henry was born, Killian was out of the Navy and working at an upscale bar in Boston, raking in tip money thanks to his looks and the bottle flipping tricks he’d perfected on the long nights stationed overseas. He could well afford a decent place and a one-bedroom bachelor pad loft was at the top of his list until he went to sign a lease and balked, telling the rental agent he really needed a second bedroom and refusing to allow himself to dig deep to ask himself why.

Killian scowled at the bottle of champagne Emma had left on the table when she walked in, fisting a hand through his hair. Having her and Henry pack up and leave didn’t feel like something to celebrate.   

“You can’t will the cork to pop out on its own.”

She startled him and Killian let out an inventive string of expletives. He’d been lost in thought so long he hadn’t heard her leave the bathroom and go change. She was wearing a tank top and pajama pants, the curls she’d sprayed into submission before her “date” brushed out. The heavy fake eyelashes were gone, as was any stitch of makeup. Suddenly exhausted, his thoughts draining him more than a night with a teething toddler ever could, he gestured toward the bottle.

“Do you mind if we save this for another night? It should chill anyway.” When Emma nodded, he picked it up and took it to the refrigerator, walking back toward her. “See you in the morning, Swan.” 

His head swam as he headed down the short hallway. A box hadn’t so much as been packed and Killian’s stomach churned. When he passed the door to her room, he felt fingers on his. Jaw clenching, he closed his eyes for a second before turning, looking down at Emma’s pinkie curled around his own.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Killian swallowed hard and nodded, not quite sure what to say. 

Fingers moved, first hers and then his, until they were completely laced together. Killian was so focused on the sensation of her palm against his that he missed the fact Emma was on her tiptoes and leaning in. 

The feel of her lips on the corner of his mouth took him by surprise and his first reaction was to back away like the last time when nostalgia served as a chaser for a few glasses of liquid courage. 

She wasn’t having it. Her other hand came up, fingernails lightly scratching his scalp as her fingers anchored in his hair, pulling him back toward her. The kiss was sweet and Killian savored it, careful to only take what she was giving and not ask for more. It felt like a metaphor for their entire relationship, friendship – whatever the hell it was. When it was over, he pressed his forehead against hers, more breathless than he should be after a kiss that bordered on chaste, and when her arms circled around his back, he dropped his head onto her shoulder. 

“I wish I could stay.”

Heart leaping into his throat, Killian drew back. 

“You can. I mean…not because…it has nothing to do with,” he gestured between them, “whatever this was just now. But you can stay. You and Henry. With me.” 

Smooth, Jones. Just babble in her face.

Her fingers smoothed over the nervous twitch in his jaw.

“I know. I know you’d let us. And I lo – I appreciate you for that. But I feel like I have to do this. Go out on my own. To prove to myself I can.”

Huffing out a breath, Killian rubbed her upper arms and smiled.

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have.”

“You actually mean that, don’t you?” She sounded…shocked.

“Does that surprise you?”

Leaning in once more, Emma kissed him again; the only difference between this one and the last a tiny flick of her tongue against his bottom lip before she drew back.

“Not anymore.”

****

The knock came at 11:15. It was tentative, barely pulling Killian out of a dreamless sleep and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. Fuzzy-brained, he was a second away from chalking it up to a rattling pipe or noise from the street when another knock came, this one more insistent. 

Tossing the covers off and cursing as he kicked his feet free from the tangled sheet, he padded through the living room, throwing the deadbolt and dramatically pulling the door open, ready to give his untimely visitor hell while wearing nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs and a scowl.

The piss and vinegar was short-lived when his eyes fell onto the figure standing in the hallway. 

Emma was in a sundress, a picnic basket at her feet. Before he could say anything, a bundle of energy charged at his legs and Killian bent to swoop Henry up into a fireman’s carry as he backed up to let Emma in, carefully dipping his head to kiss her so Henry’s gleefully kicking feet wouldn’t hit her.

Six months had passed since the day Killian had helped Emma pack up the truck she borrowed from one of the bondsmen at her work and moved her and Henry into their own place. It had taken minutes for him to miss them terribly. It had taken another few days for him to work up the courage to call and ask her out on a proper date. Since then, his weekend days were filled with petting zoos, trips to the park, picnics by the water and running Henry ragged.

On the nights neither of them worked, they made up for lost time.  

The first time they were together, they hadn’t even made it to the bed. Lying in a tangle of sweaty limbs, Killian had loudly proclaimed the rug burn was worth it and Emma had shushed him by rolling him onto his back for round two.

A few days had passed and today was picnic day, Killian squinted at the clock as he twisted his torso to swing Henry to and fro.

“Am I late or are you early?”

Setting the basket down, Emma walked up to them, ducking at the last moment to avoid a kick to the head, and reached her arms up toward Henry.

“We’re early. Too early? I should have called.” 

The look on her face was comical and even though a few more hours of sleep would have been nice after a rare fight at the bar during last call drew blood and a few arrests, keeping Killian there until nearly seven, he didn’t mind the wake up. 

“It’s fine, Swan.” He hunched his shoulders and let her take Henry.

She settled her son on her hip and kissed his flushed cheek.

“Come on, kid. Let’s let Killian get dressed.” 

“Killy dress,” Henry agreed, clapping his hands and they both laughed.

“I would pay so much money to see that – EEP!” Emma jumped as Killian passed and flicked his hand back to swat her ass.

****

A quick shower and the decision not to shave had him ready to go in no time. When he came back to the living room, Emma was sitting on the couch with Henry in her lap, a sippy cup of what looked like apple juice in his hand. Two champagne flutes and an open bottle were on the coffee table in front of her.

His eyes darted from the bottle to the kitchen. It was the same brand as the one she’d bought the night she’d told him they were moving out. The one that they’d never opened and had been in his refrigerator for the last six months.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Come sit with us.” Emma waved him over and handed him one of the flutes. “I’d like to propose a toast.” She reached for the other one and held it aloft. “To us. Ewwwww.” She giggled when Killian surged forward and planted a smacking kiss on her cheek, and made a show of pretending to be disgusted and wipe it off. “Gross! Like I was saying…um, so Henry and I have something to ask you.” 

The glass she held trembled just a little, and the smile on her face faded. Before he could ask her what was wrong, Emma took a breath and sat up a little straighter.

“Jesus, I’m horrible at this,” she muttered and cleared her throat. “We wanted to know if you would move in with us.” 

Killian was all too aware how monumental a moment this was. Both for them and for Emma. She was inviting him in. 

Into her life. Into her space. Into her home.

He looked at her, tears pricking at his eyes, nodding his head effusively in the affirmative because he was too choked up to say yes. She was laughing through her own tears and held up her glass for him to clink since neither one of them could speak.

“Sad, Mama?” Henry was looking up at Emma from his spot on her lap and making an exaggerated frowny face. Those Baby Einstein books Killian gave him for Christmas were really paying off. “Sad?”

Killian put an arm around her and drew them both into a hug, kissing her hair and resting his chin on the top of her head.

“No, Henry. Mama’s happy.”

[fcllenflowers]

*You feel your sins crawling on your back.

*M!A: Karmic Retribution*

First day drabble under the cut. Trigger warnings for mentions of gore, suffocation, torture, suffering, waterboarding.

The first day is going by unbearably slow. Steel has been suffering all through the night, plagued by nightmares and occasionally failing to even make it to the bathroom. Crimson stayed up as well, taking an emergency leave to stay home and change her sheets whenever she needed it, cleaning up the throw up she’d fail to pour inside the large basin he provided her with. Painkillers were ineffective. They were not even aware of the duration this curse would have. But for one thing, Crimson had forgot all about punishments now. All he did was sit by his sister’s side, cradling her through her spasms and muffling her cries with kisses and nuzzles. Such was his love and affection for this damned creature that he risked his job, rest, health and quite frankly mental stability to stay by her side. Narcissus, on the other hand, went to work and returned a few hours later. He brought them some food from a nearby restaurant that Steel failed to hold in her stomach and Crimson only half-finished. The rest of their portions were stuffed in plastic tupperware and stored the fridge for later consumption before Narcissus took over and Crimson finally took a break to rest. Of course, after staying up for twenty-four hours of anxiety, he collapsed on his bed and was sound asleep within minutes.

When that was done, Narcissus unloaded an eight-pack of large water bottles from the grocery bags he’d carried home and grabbed a kitchen towel. Bottle in hand and towel tucked in the pocket of his pants with the white tip hanging out, he headed to Steel’s room in complete silence and entered without even knocking. Green eyes trailed over the girl’s form on the bed –laid on her back, arms crossed over her chest and a single eye staring blankly at the ceiling. Who knew what kind of pain she was re-experiencing. Perhaps it was Undyne’s slow death by being literally fried alive in her armor, somewhere in the plains of Hotland.

“Ugh. You poor thing…” He hums, slowly kneeling beside the mattress. There’s a hint of disregard in his voice. Or perhaps it’s irony. Clothes are scattered everywhere, in places they shouldn’t be and Narcissus’ irritation grows. It could be impulse or pure evil that moves his hands to slowly wrap around the girl’s neck. He receives a whimper –a pleasing whimper, music in his ears. It sounds better than all the Bach symphonies he could fathom and he tries to squeeze more out of her little neck. It’s such a delight, the pulse of her throat in his palm as she writhes and struggles, immobilized by the curse. Agony blends with the million screams stuck in her throat; an ugly mix.  He knows Steel won’t beg for help; because he was there when she learned how pointless it is to do so.

Perhaps she could knock on the wall. Perhaps Crimson will hear. He should be sleeping in the next room. The idea shines in her one good eye and the next moment Narcissus releases her throat to press both her wrists down on the bed with his instead. A knee thrusts into her chest, knocking the idea out of her head along with whatever breath might have been left in her lungs out. And with that feeling begins the reminiscence of Mr. Johnson’s lungs being squished to the size of a fist and Steel starts rasping for breath. It makes too much noise and Narcissus methodically reaches for a pillow behind him and presses it firmly on her face.

That feeling; that well-known agony. The feeling of being stuck, of losing all control over your body and the situation, locked up and forced to expect some ungodly punishment.

Narcissus no longer had to pin her down. She was experiencing the pain of having two long sharp needles piecing both ones eardrums simultaneously. She wasn’t going anywhere.

 He wasn’t even aware of what she was feeling when he pulled the towel completely out of his pocket. It had been hanging there for a while now but Steel hadn’t noticed of course. Apart from the fact her room was dark and her eyesight impaired, the pain had clouded all sorts of reasonable thought processes she might have been capable of if she did. Now it was taking over her senses as well. A tickling sensation spread over her limbs, as if thousands upon thousands of tiny ants were climbing on them, raiding her aching body and pinning it against the mattress.

Accepting her horrible fate, the girl slowly closed her eyes and concentrated her efforts on drawing one final breath. The pillow was removed and the towel was draped over her face in its place.

“I thought you and I had made a deal.” Narcissus whispered, hint of sarcasm evident in his husky voice. “I don’t care whose rules you want to play by…but causing trouble like that? Getting us exposed? That’s too reckless for my taste, princess.” He coos. Steel’s palms slowly clench into fists, chest heaving up and down rapidly, writhing, struggling for a single breath. The cloth is already humid. She doesn’t know what’s coming to her. Everything is dark and she’s forced to lay there and endure through the uncertainty and the fear; the terror. Narcissus’ voice resembles the million screams she’s caused and she’s experienced. A life of pain and suffering she’s handed out and lived through herself flashes in front of her closed eyes. The hallucination of these all too familiar glowing buttons fades into the background, hand automatically making a futile attempt at reaching out and touching the immaterial surface... Grey and useless. No Reset. No Save. No Load.

                                                   No Escape.

She can sense the liquid coming from a mile away. It’s cold and humid underneath the towel. It makes her want to sneeze but she feels to weak to even attempt that. The scent of laundry detergent fills her nostrils and makes her sick.

“Uh. I’ll hate having to clean this up. Look what you’re making me do.” Narcissus groans, lifting the large water bottle over her head. Steel’s body makes a final attempt to flinch, to evade the torment. It is of course, pointless, as Alphys’ scream of horror as a knife goes through her head fades into the background of her mind. She feels the sharp blade penetrating her eye. It stings and burns and never stops. Narcissus at this point has realized that the greyface magic must indeed be something horrible. He clicks his tongue and just as his wrist turns to tilt the bottle over his Frisk’s head, the girl produces a raspy plea.

“Pl-…please…d-d…I…s-..I’m sorry!”

There’s a moment’s silence and just as Alphys’ pain gives place to the sharp sting of a stab wound to the chest, Narcissus snickers and starts pouring water on her face. At once, the gasps are muffled. Coughs replace them as her lungs struggle to function. It feels like drowning but not. It gives you the exact, precise experience of being strapped to an anchor at the bottom of the ocean but at the same time unable to find sweet release in death. Instead, it keeps you hanging –on the edge. Muffled pleas are barely audible in the form of gasps and mutters under the soaked towel gag. Narcissus lets the entire bottle contents empty before he screws the lid back on sits back to inspect his work. Steel’s chest is heaving painfully, slowly struggling for whatever release it could achieve with a knee pressing down on it and the wet towel blocking her nostrils and mouth. The cough gets worse. Narcissus rolls his eyes and leans closer to her, moving some braids to the side and onto the wet mattress to expose her earlobe.

“Listen. If you stop coughing like that and keep quiet, I’ll only use three more bottles. Otherwise, I bought an eight pack yesterday.” He whispers and tucks her braids back with the tips of his fingers. Steel barely even winces underneath the towel.

She would pass out, but her body won’t let her. Perhaps that’s what Karma is.