#ive been fading in and out of consciousness for like 3 hours

[strangerinalostworld]

having siblings is such an odd concept. like im currently having violent urges because my brother’s being loud as fuck and woke me up (even though he always gives me shit for staying up late so idek) but also like. i have yelled at a plethora of people, including my father, for making that kid even slightly upset. like yeah i can be an asshole to him all i want because he’s fucking annoying, but everyone else has to be nice to him because he’s lovely and amazing

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

There For You

Gibbs x Reader One Shot

Prompt: Reader is held captive for days before being rescued. Gibbs is left to help her through it. Mostly an angsty/fluff.

Warnings: Insinuations of kidnapping, torture, starvation.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed throughout the dirty dark house, making your hair stand on end. You knew who was coming and needed to be ready if you wanted to escape. Your muscles were weak from the handcuffs chaining your legs to the old radiator and the ever lasting wooziness from the severe dehydration was almost enough to make you start hallucinating.

You weren’t sure how long you had been here, the curtains were always drawn and you never heard any outside noise but if you had to guess, you would’ve said at least 3 days.

If Gibbs and the team hadn’t found you by now, you sure they wouldn’t. So gripping the old wrench you found under the radiator tight in your hand, you laid limp on the floor as your captor descended the stairs.

“Guess what I have in store for you today?”

You heard him set something heavy down on a far table and walk over close. “Hey, wake up.”

A hard kick to your shoulder almost made you yelp out in pain but you kept your composure and stayed quiet and still. It wasn’t until he dropped a knee down and came down close that you sprung into action, swinging your arm out with as much power as you could muster and hit him in the head with the wrench. You were actually surprised when he immediately slumped to the floor unconscious.

Not wanting to waste any time, you searched his body and almost burst with joy when you found the handcuff keys in his pocket. Unlocking yourself, you tried standing but the exhaustion caught up to you causing you to collapse. You felt like every second you weren’t getting out of here was a second closer to him waking up and your ultimate demise.

With what you assumed was my body’s last attempt at an adrenaline rush, you staggered to stand and begin making your way out of the basement.

Your eyes were blinded by the amount of light that burst through once you opened the front door but didn’t hesitate and just started running. The house you were in seemed to be in some part of the countryside but you could make out a road in the distance so that was your destination.

It felt like hours before you finally reached the road, looking back every few seconds to see if you were being chased down but never saw anyone. It wasn’t until you practically caused an accident by running into the road that someone stopped in their car and came over to help.

“I need your phone please. I’m a federal agent.”

Thankfully, the passerby obliged and handed you their cellphone. Once you punched in the numbers and heard that familiar gruff voice on the other end, you collapsed onto the asphalt.

“Jethro. It’s me..I need help..”

His voice was far away and you realized you were fading in and out of consciousness. So before you could completely pass out, you handed the phone back to the driver.

“Tell him where we are.. And that I’m still in danger..”

Whatever the driver was saying to you went unheard as you relaxed into the ground, finally letting the overwhelming sense of sleep take over.

>>>>

Your eyes shot open, panic immediately shooting through your body. Looking around, you recognized your surroundings to be a hospital but no other clues as to what happened. Ripping the oxygen tube from your face, you very carefully removed the IV from your arm and attempted to get out of the bed. Unfortunately like last time, your body didn’t cooperate and you ended up falling into the curtains, bringing them down with you.

Once you felt arms grab you, you screamed and tried thrashing out of their grasp.

“Y/F/N! It’s me! You’re safe!”

The sound of Gibb’s voice gave you huge relief and stopped fighting. He easily pulled you to your feet as you clutched onto his suit jacket, now crying uncontrollably.

“Shhh. It’s alright, you’re safe now. I’ve got you,” he whispered while holding you tight.

“I can’t stay here Gibbs. I don’t feel safe here. Please-

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here but you need to let them finish helping you first.”

“Don’t leave. Please don’t go,” you pleaded as he helped you back into the bed.

“I won’t. I’ll be right here.”

He wiped your tear streaked face and pushed the hair out of your eyes before calling for the doctor.

>>>>

Following up the steps to Gibb’s house, you pulled the jacket he let you borrow tighter to your body. Ever since leaving the hospital, it didn’t matter how many layers you had on, you couldn’t seem to stay warm. Gibbs opened the front door and let you walk in first, carrying your go bag and pharmacy meds.

“Take a seat on the couch, I’ll get a fire started,” he instructed while closing and actually locking the door. After your theatrics at the hospital, you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward towards Gibbs. You always felt like you two had a stronger connection than just boss and agent in the past but it never got talked about let alone acted on. And now you’re sitting on his couch, in his house, about to spend the night.

You silently watched as he crouched to put the fire together and turn the tv on to some old black and white tv show.

“You should eat something with these meds. I’ll make you something small.”

Once he was satisfied with the fire, he went into the kitchen and threw a small frozen tv dinner into the microwave. You weren’t really in the mood to eat anything but didn’t want to offend his hospitality.

He sorted out all of your pills you needed to take, some antibiotics, some supplements, and handed them to you with a large glass of water. You obediently drank them all down as he came over with the food and a beer for himself.

He set it down on the coffee table and took a seat next to you. Not close enough to be touching but close enough that you could smell his aftershave.

“Thank you.”

Those were the first words you spoke to him since the hospital.

“Welcome.”

You were both quiet as you slowly picked at your meal and he sipped his beer while watching the tv. After a few more bites, you were done and sat back into the couch, another shiver taking over.

Without a word, he grabbed a blanket from the nearby chair and wrapped it around your shoulders, making sure you were snug. The room was finally getting warmer and your eyes were getting droopier. At some point, your head had fallen against his shoulder but he didn’t make a move to push you off or reposition himself. You finally felt safe after days of fighting for your life and you had Gibbs to thank for that.

[suspicious-whumping-egg]

Collector’s Bounty: Part 3

Masterlist here. Enjoy!!

~~

Splitting, blinding agony yanked Jackson back to reality. It felt like he’d been shot in the side, sixteen rounds of lead all rapid-fired into one throbbing nightmare. He gasped for breath, but his chest seized in protest as he choked on a mouthful of plastic. A massive tube had been forced down his throat, protruding deep into his chest and scratching at his lungs, which were forced full of air just seconds later. He gagged, thrashing helplessly against the restraints and letting out a strangled cry at the fresh stabs of pain the movement sent through his body. 

“More propofol,” he heard Aris order sharply, and he was dimly aware of a blunt pain in his arm, a thick substance forced through an IV. His head swam. The air was sucked from his lungs, and he coughed so hard his head began to pound.  

“At least while we extubate him. Don’t want him damaging those lungs, especially if we decide to take one later…” 

The words slid into each other, fuzzy and distant as the drugs overcame him once more. But this time, he was glad for it.

He faded back into consciousness, the next time, rather than the sharp, sudden lucidity of the hour before. His side pulsed uncomfortably, but the sensation lacked the agony of before, dulled to a slight ache. And the tube was gone from his throat. He could breathe. He sucked in a greedy lungful of air, even as the breath burned his sore throat, and tried to sit up. His head spun from the mere effort, and the wound protested fiercely, its dull ache turning into a throb, and he was forced to slump back down. But he could move his shoulders now, at least, push himself up on his elbows even while his wrists remained immobile— although now he was handcuffed to the bedrails of a cot, instead of strapped to the operating table.  

He took a wary glance around, relieved to find he was alone in a small cell. It was bare but for the cot, the IV stand next to him, and the monitor beeping steadily as his vitals flashed across its screen. A sensor was clipped to his finger, a few layers of tape wound around it. As if he’d try to take off the only thing that would make sure his captors kept him, at the bare minimum, alive. An IV protruded from his opposite arm, likely providing whatever pain medication was taking the edge off the horror he’d woken up to the first time. It, too, was taped. As if he’d want to rip out the only thing keeping him from utter agony. 

The flimsy white blanket covering him, however, was not taped onto him. And it was also the only thing Jackson wanted off.  Some part of him needed to see the incision, in its fresh, ugly red glory. He needed to know it had all been real. Because until the blanket came off, he could hold onto the last shred of hope that Aris or Ryder had possessed the tiniest scrap of decency that prevented them from finishing the job. 

He kicked uselessly at the thin cotton, only succeeding in getting the fabric tangled in his legs. A sob wrenched from his chest, and with it, a fresh stab of pain shocked itself down his side. The dam had broken and he cried with reckless abandon, tears streaming from his eyes down the sides of his face. His head began to pound in unison with the raw wound in his side, and all he could do was sob harder, until he was gasping for breath amidst dry, helpless cries. His tears had half-dried in a sticky film on his cheeks, and he couldn’t even lift a hand to wipe them away. Couldn’t even move enough to elbow the stupid fucking blanket across his face. 

He heard the sound of a latch and flinched, furiously blinking away the last of his tears even though he knew nothing could hide his red-rimmed eyes and tearstained face. 

“Aww, you’re really that upset to see me?” Aris smirked. “I’m flattered.” 

“Fuck off,” Jackson mumbled halfheartedly, wishing he could at least pull the flimsy blanket over his face to demonstrate his disinterest.  

“No can do,” Aris interjected cheerily, spinning a small keyring around a finger and bending down to unlock his handcuffs. “I gotta make sure you get up and walk around a bit.” 

“It’s literally been— what, two hours?” Jackson protested. “Why do you care, you got what you wanted anyway…”

Aris shrugged. “Longer than that. We kept you in a drugged little stupor— and keep in mind, that comes out of my paycheck— for a bit so you wouldn’t be screaming those expensive lungs out. Maybe 12 hours? A little less? And even after we took you off, you slept maybe another eight. And the rest is doctor’s orders, love, I don’t make the rules. Ryder’s in charge of the med stuff, not me, and he told me to take you for a walk.”

Jackson’s head still pounded from the force of his earlier sobbing, but he gave a resigned nod, even as a shudder wracked his body at the thought of how much else they could have done to him in twelve hours. What else they could have taken. “Can I at least have something to put on then?” He managed weakly. 

At that request, Aris raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “There’s no reason for me to not keep you naked now… but I’m feeling nice. So only if you beg for it.”

“What?” Jackson sputtered before he could help it. “I— I mean please. Please let me have clothes…” 

Even saying the words drew burning red humiliation to his face, and he could barely suppress a twisted huff of laughter as the beeping on the monitor grew faster and faster with his panicked heart rate. Here he was, thinking begging would really make a difference. He’d seen how Aris had looked at him. How he enjoyed his power over him and nothing else. There was no use playing along. 

But Aris’s grin only widened.

“Oh come on, if you say it like that, it’s like you don’t even really want it. And you do, don’t you?” 

“I— I— no— I do— please just— please— aah—” Jackson stammered incomprehensibly, a fresh stab of pain in his side and his dizzying embarrassment clouding any rational thought he might have been able to force out. 

Aris surveyed his flushed face, the way his eyes squinted at the pain from the incision, and he nodded. “I suppose I can reward effort, even for as terrible of a job you’ve done,” he digressed. “I’ll be back.” 

As soon as the door’s lock slid into place, Jackson ripped the blanket off with his newly freed hands, eyes squeezed shut. He had to look, but at the same time, he couldn’t bear to. 

Fuck it. 

He wrenched his eyes open to find a swath of bandages around his torso, a bit above his left hip, and two smaller bandages scattered between his chest and stomach. He sat up, a wave of vertigo swimming through his head, and leaned over to grip the edge of the largest bandage. He took in a shaky breath, tensing on instinct, and ripped. 

A thick, ugly cut marred his skin, haphazardly stitched together with black thread. Nausea gripped his gut, and he slapped the bandage back on, a weak cry escaping his lips as pain stabbed over the wound once more. Fuck. 

He grabbed the thin pillow off the cot, pressed it to his face, and screamed, side throbbing from the effort, until his throat was ragged. The scream tapered off into a fresh wave of sobs, even as he tried to choke back the tears. He had to make a break for it while he was unrestrained. Before they took anything else. But he could barely sit up, let alone stand. 

“Yeah, yeah, scar’s gonna be pretty bad,” Aris mocked, voice cutting nonchalantly through his cries. “What, did you think we’d change our minds?” 

Jackson flinched, the pillow slipping from his fingers as he backed against one corner of the cot, curled against a bedrail. He wiped his face on the threadbare blanket and didn’t dare say a word— he didn’t trust himself not to start sobbing all over again. 

Aris shrugged. “Well, not my problem. Think you can dress yourself?” 

He nodded shakily, even though he doubted it. Even if he could manage to pull on a pair of pants, managing to get a shirt on while the IV was in would likely be an impossible task. 

A soft bundle hit him square in the chest, and he unraveled it to find boxers, a pair of black sweatpants, and a ripped undershirt. He couldn’t help but be disappointed he hadn’t been given his old clothes back, but mostly, he was just glad to have anything at all. He waited for the dizziness to abate before slowly rising to his feet, legs buckling under his weight. He gripped the bedrail like a lifeline while he tugged on the boxers one-handed, relief washing over him with just the one bit of dignity. 

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder didn’t want me to give your old clothes back ‘cause of germs or evidence or fingerprints or some shit, I don’t know,” Aris added with a shrug at his disappointed expression, eyes annoyingly fixed on Jackson’s body. “You sure you don’t need any help?” 

Jackson grit his teeth, swaying dangerously as he struggled with the sweatpants. 

“I’ve got it,” he bit out, even as his vision edged with black from the effort of standing. The second he finished tying the waistband, he collapsed back onto the bed, feeling just as exhausted but a little more human. He reached for the shirt with shaking hands, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to get it on. Not by himself. He’d either have to ask for help getting the IV out, forgoing the only medication he might be given at all, or withstand going shirtless. 

He sighed. “I’d rather keep the IV in.” 

Aris smirked. “I don’t mind getting a better view if you insist,” he teased, stepping towards the cot and holding out his arm. 

“Now, up you go. Come on.” 

Jackson couldn’t help but groan. 

“I’m not gonna make it very far,” he protested weakly. “And aren’t you supposed to rest after surgery?” 

“If it’s a nephrectomy, nope,” Aris said cheerfully. “Unless you wanna get blood clots and die after all this. I don’t really care, at least then I get the extra cash from selling a fresh heart.” 

Jackson grimaced just at the idea, ignoring Aris’s outstretched arm and stabilizing himself on the bedrail as he forced himself back upright.  “Fine,” he grumbled, legs wobbling beneath him. 

“Ya gotta let go of the bed,” Aris added. “Not much of a walk if you stay in the same place now, is it?” He held out his arm again, a hawk waiting patiently to strike. 

And Jackson could do nothing but take the bait. He took a shaky step, half-falling into Aris’s shoulder as he grasped his wrist with the last reserves of his strength. 

And out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the grin that spilled over Aris’s face.

Taglist: @burntcoffeewhump @onlywhump @whumplr-reader @gala1981 @its-my-primary-whump @andithewhumper

[twotapbuz]

The leader and a body guard(Rin x reader)

(Sorry this took so long, school sucked all of my motivation away. You can find the rest of the series here: Eloni )

warning: violence, slight angst with a happy ending

Sometime after the rock revolution, Neon J decided to leave for a 3-week vacation

This meant that you and your coworkers would need to report to Rin

The first couple of days were difficult because Rin didn’t seem to care about the reports and would flirt with whoever was giving him the report

It wasn’t till week two that things began to spiral

1010 had been in the middle of a performance when a fight broke out in the crowd

You jumped out of where you were standing to help control the crowd

You assessed the damage after everything calmed down

The venue + stage was partially destroyed, Purl-Hew lost his glasses and an eye, Haym lost an arm, Zimelu and Eloni’s faces were cracked, and Rin was missing

Rin was missing

This was bad news as the factory still hadn’t been repaired yet which meant that he couldn’t be brought back until Neon J came back

And if Neon J found out that you lost a member of 1010, you and your co-workers would be fired

So your group split into two parts, one half would take Zimelu, Haym, Purl- Hew, and Eloni back to Barraca Mansion while the other half would search for Rin

You were placed into the latter

It had been nearly an hour since Rin was discovered missing and there still was no sign of him. You were definitely going to get fired. While the concert was in Cast Tech, you along with several others were sent to search Metro Division in case he simply went back to Baraca Mansion without telling anyone. You were about to head back when you heard the sound of crashing metal. 

“Hello, is anyone there?” You didn’t mean to say anything, but you were caught off guard. Against your better judgment, you began to walk towards that alley. You were desperate to find him after all.

“Stay back! RETREAT!” shouted a panicked autotuned voice. It was Rin.

“Rin? Is that you? Are you ok?” you rushed down the alley to find Rin hiding next to a dumpster.

“Don’t look at me!” Rin was trying to cover the right side of his face with his arm.

“What? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah! Do not worry about me, I’ll make it back fine,” Rin tried to stand up, still covering his face, but immediately fell back down because his leg was missing.

“Look… everyone’s worried about you and you won’t be able to make it back by yourself with that leg,” you gestured at Rin’s broken leg. Please let me help you, I know some shortcuts.” You offered your arm. Rin hesitantly lifted his hand for his face and grabbed your hand for support. The metal that covered the right side of her face was gone, revealing the damaged hardware underneath.

You involuntarily flinched, he may not have been human, but it was still pretty jarring to look at something that looked like a person who was missing part of their face. Rin also flinched, covering his missing face with both of his hands now.

“I’m so sorry about that”, you rubbed your neck, “I just… well I didn’t expect the injury to be that bad.”

“You aren’t going to scream, are you?

“What? No, I'm very sorry about that. Besides I’ve seen way worse” you joked, trying to release the tension. Rin hesitantly uncovered his face once again and grabbed your hand and pulled himself up. The two of you dodged the groups of people walking through Metro Divison.

As the two of you were walking through, you couldn’t help but wonder about Rin’s reaction when it suddenly hit you, 1010 got severely injured during the rock revolution. One of these injuries included all of them losing their faceplates. Their fans unsurprisingly freaked out which caused 1010 to explode due to some protocol Neon J must’ve implemented. Your heart sank when you realized Rin’s reaction wasn’t because he was worried about his image, but he was scared of you screaming and what would follow afterward.

——————

After that incident, Rin seemed to act differently towards you. He took you more seriously and listened to your reports

Even after Neón J came back, Rin still came to you for your reports

Probably just practice for when Neón j retires, you thought

As the weeks passed, the time spent on the casual chats you had increased to the point you’d forgot to give him the actual report several times

“And that’s how we got Quienne and Bebe.” Rin had just finished telling you the story of how they got their cats by Haym and Eloni smuggling them in through a box. This was one of many of the 'behind the scenes stories' that Rin had told you. While they didn’t act that much different when they weren’t on camera or in front of a crowd, it was nice to be trusted enough to hear about their personal lives.

“So what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any good stories? I don’t think it’s fair if I tell all of my secrets after all~.” Rin teased

“Well, I do have one. I was at a dance audition and waiting for my turn to perform and this dude that was performing was pretty much a circus act. He was doing all these frontflips and backflips and it was just crazy. Wish I had recorded it.”

“You used to be a performer? How come you stopped?” Rin curiously asked.

“Nah, I never made it past the first round of auditions. I didn't really mind since I only entered to support a friend.” You sipped on your coffee

“That’s a shame.” Rin paused for a moment. “You know I could always offer you lessons.”

 “that's really nice, but I’ll have to decline. No amount of practice can fix these two left feet.” You looked at the clock, realizing half an hour had passed. You quickly said your goodbye and left to avoid getting into trouble. Rin watched your back as he left, unsure why he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

——————

Rin was walking to his dressing room when he saw you walking alongside several other security staff. As rude as it sounded, Rin normally wouldn’t think twice about the people he worked with. Most staff would either quit from being harassed by crazy 1010 fans or get fired for secretly being 1010 fans who used the job to get access to 1010 content, or worse, 1010 themselves. Rin shuddered as memories of one of the many incidents came back. Rin could count on both of his hands the amount of current staff that has been working for over a year and you were one of them. Rin began to think about the early part of his career when he and his family would actively engage with the staff, talking about both of their personal lives and inviting them over to hang out in the mansion. He and his brothers stopped interacting with the staff after the high turnover started. What was the point of talking with them if they were going to quit and avoid 1010 like the plague or get fired and be avoided by 1010 like the plague. He was glad that he could talk to you. He also liked the sound of your voice and how your eyes sparkled brighter than the LEDs that lit up him and his brothers. Rin blushed at the last thoughts. The sound of your voice and the sparkle of your eyes? It’s not like he was in love with you or anything. He was technically your boss and your relationship was completely professional. Yeah, your interactions were one of his favorite parts of his day and your smile would always brighten his day, but even if he was in love with you(which he is not) there’s still the challenge of gaining the approval of his family and having to deal with his fan’s harassment. He couldn’t let you go through that. Though Rin couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to talk with you outside of work…even go on a couple dates… maybe he was in love afterall.

——————

You walked past Rin and smiled. Despite your attempts, you fell for Rin's charm just like his fans did and it took you no time to notice this. You knew you were never going to say anything, afterall, everyone knows the rule about not dating coworkers and Rin can choose practically anyone, why would he pick you?

——————

It was the first concert after the rock revolution

The fans were extra antsy due to the lack of content, so it was all hands on deck

You were positioned on the front of the stage

This concert was no different than the previous ones, 1010 were performing, a couple of their fans attempted to jump on the stage, and you could barely hear your own thoughts over the mix of music and cheering. Suddenly both of those stopped. You looked at the stage and so 1010 standing still in mid-performance. You were told about this situation during training: it was either a malfunction or a hacking. You prayed that it wasn’t the latter. 1010 suddenly began to move in sync, but it was different from their normal in sync movement. You saw two fans get tackled to the ground as a red saw blade passed them at what would’ve been chest height. Your radio buzzed loudly as you were given your new orders:

“Get everyone out of there.”

It was chaos as you rushed around to get everyone out of the venue. Those with superhuman abilities(pyrokinesis, levitation, etc) stayed behind to prevent 1010 from leaving the venue. Despite not having any abilities, you stayed behind too. You were running around in the back looking for anyone who still might be there when the rubble from an explosion behind you knocked you to the ground. You quickly got up and saw Rin towering over Neon J. Without thinking, you quickly grabbed a nearby pipe that came from the newly busted wall and smashed it over Rin’s head. This managed to stop his attack, but it also brought his attention to you. He suddenly ran towards you, grabbed you, and threw you against the wall. Your consciousness began to fade in and out as your head collided with the wall. You saw Rin approaching you, then darkness, Rin raising his arm to strike, darkness again, Rin being pulled away by Neón J, darkness again, the inside of an ambulance, and then nothing.

——————

You woke up in a hospital room. Your eyes scanned the room: on your right was a monitor accompanied by an IV drip. On your left was a small table with flowers, a get-well balloon, a couple cards, and a Rin with a worried face sitting on one of the chairs of the room. Rin noticed you were awake and quickly rushed before stopping unsure of what to do.

“Y/N” Rin said, unsure of what to do or say

“Rin”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry about what happened- I didn’t want to-I couldn’t stop- if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you-” Rin began to stutter out of guilt. He kept making sentences but giving up on them and starting new ones.

“Rin, please” Rin paused and looked at you. “It’s not your fault, I know you would never do this” the two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before you continued, “You know... if the offers still up… I’d be happy to accept those dance lessons when I get discharged." Rin began to smile

“Yeah, the offers still up”

——————

Neon J walked through the hospital’s halls. For the past two weeks, he had been personally escorting Rin to your hospital room. He knew Rin felt responsible for your injuries so he didn’t object to this despite the possible security risks(he couldn't keep his boys locked up). He had heard from Rin that you had woken up and he was glad that you were ok, but he had to cut your visitor time short due to an interview that all 1010 members must be present for. He walked into your room to find the two of you sleeping with Rin’s head on your lap. 

“It’ll be fine if Rin misses one interview.” Neon J thought as he closed the door. He also began to wonder how long it will be before Rin introduces you officially to the family.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH65

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 65: The Queen’s Inheritance (IV)

Amid the dragon’s roar, the temple of cult ceremony began to collapse, but this did not stop the battle between the dragon and the monster. The two creatures in their full forms fought in this temple, and the devastating dragon breath burned around the altar, while the monster’s tentacles clung to the body of the dragon, making it impossible to bite off its tentacles.

The monster summoned by the blood of nearly 100 people couldn't fight Ning Zhou who hadn't shown his magic dragon form yet. However, after the irradiation of that strange eyeball, the monster had evolved strangely, and it had gained the power of the Devil of Power from the empty void, which made it stronger, scarier, and more cruel than before!

Like the magic dragon, it had surpassed the half-field level. Compared to Ning Zhou, who was still suppressing his own strength and avoiding being swallowed up by the origin of destruction, the irrational monster was much more terrible. It indulged itself unscrupulously, as if it were the evil in the world itself.

In the frenzied battle, no one noticed that Qi Leren, unconscious in a pool of blood, was fighting against the bewitching influence.

"Through the evil and filthy world, your soul will reach Utopia.

"There will be no more troubles and disappointments, and your life will be immersed in endless happiness and well-being.

"Demons forget the bloodthirst and desire to kill, human beings forget selfishness and greed, and all life is treated equally in Utopia.

"There will be no more death, because the soul is immortal, and you will have eternal life.

"You will also see your love, in that immortal paradise..."

Qi Leren suddenly woke up.

His body was still numb, but his consciousness woke up.

It seemed to be a whisper or a talking voice, which was still ringing and droning like a set program, but he was awake from the trance-like state.

He had suddenly thought of his lover, who wouldn't be there—a carefree Utopia.

He would only be in hell.

If he hadn’t couldn’t see him and bring him with him, he would have stay here forever, and accept all the torture in the world like self-punishment, until the dead lake water rose over his head. He won't even struggle, just sinks to the bottom quietly.

Qi Leren woke up because he couldn't let Ning Zhou go.

Being paralyzed, he couldn't move, and it was difficult to breathe deeply. Qi Leren choked back the stiff pain, slowly moved his heavy iron hand to his chest, and slowly clenched the item [Prophet's Heart] given to him by the Prophet.

[Prophet’s Heart: A god-level item hand-made by the noble and great Prophet that can make you feel the pleasure of turning into a bird. Holders can summon an archangel to come and fight on their behalf for 3 minutes with a cooling time of 24 hours.]

The battle between the magic dragon and the monster has been heated up, and the eyeball suspended in the air had continuously strengthened the monster’s power, making it quickly recover its damaged limbs, while the magic dragon has gradually liberated his own strength, and had become increasingly violent and crazy dominated by force of destruction. Under the imposing manner of the Destroyer, even such a horrible monster cannot take the upper hand.

The passerby—the initiator of this chaos—had stepped back a little, and retreated to a safe distance.

At this moment, he should be glad he hadn't gotten involved. The strength of this monster itself was about a half-field, and he could cope with it and experience a pleasant battle. However, when the strange eyeball of the master with an unknown field level had begun to interfere with the ceremony, the monster was itself strengthened to a level close to the field level.

Hmm..... Which Devil King was it?

Having entered the Nightmare Game little more than two months ago, the passerby who was confused about the power system and loyalty factions here scratched his hair and prepared to leave after watching the drama.

Although challenging a master made him happy, and he was willing to pay for it with his life, when he came to this world, he found that it was not an end wall but an amazing new world before him. He rekindled the enthusiasm of picking up the tangdao for the first time and couldn't wait to join the new world.

But not now.

The passerby reluctantly glanced at the chaotic scene and left the chaos behind.

The battle between the magic dragon and the monster became more and more fierce, and the temple became a huge colosseum. Under the duel between two monsters like ancient giants, it was as fragile as a sand castle on the beach. The force of destruction flooded Ning Zhou's reason, and the origin’s sin burning in the blood was imprinted in his soul. He suddenly forgot himself, but was immersed in the power of absolute purity and absolute terror. Until...

The twilit light of Heaven appeared in this sinful ceremony.

Qi Leren, who struggled to hold the Prophet's Heart, took a deep breath and activated the item.

In an instant, the power of the Village of Dusk’s holder ran through the boundless space and pierced the blockade of one and a half fields, falling from the sky, dispelling the bewitching power in Qi Leren's mind, and making him wake instantly.

At the same time, the pure power washed away his consciousness. He flew lightly, and his white wings slowly stretched behind him. Behind him was the Kingdom of Heaven reflected in the dusk, flowers, rites and music, angels… Everything was so holy and beautiful and desirable.

In this pure beauty, the demagogic Utopia seemed to be exposed to strong light, revealing its inner ferocious horror. It had never been a pure land on earth, but a world dominated by the Lord of Power. Walking into Utopia was like walking into a hell under high pressure. All of the self was stripped away, leaving only the dead bodies of human beings and demons, and the instructions of the Lord of Power were uniformly executed.

Under the holy light, the gloomy and evil atmosphere in the temple in the lake faded. What was even more amazing was that the dead bodies all over the ground turned into the soil and flowers under the magic of time, and white flowers blossomed from the blood, swaying in the Kingdom of Heaven at dusk like a dream.

The meat monster let out a piercing howl, black blood erupted from its eyes, and the black dragon took this opportunity to maintain its momentum. The flames of destruction erupted from his mouth, burning the struggling monster to ashes.

"...Prophet, what are you doing here again?" In the Village of Dawn, the Lord of Power felt the abnormality in the ceremony and sighed faintly. With her sigh, the huge eyeball suspended over the ceremony, watching everything, slowly rotated and made a sound.

The holy angel who smiled in the clean white flowers stared at her: "Little girl, your hand stretched too far."

The voice was the voice of Qi Leren, but the speaker was not him, but the Prophet in the underground ice palace in the Village of Dusk. Through Qi Leren's body, he warned the Devil of Power who was observing here and tried to intervene.

"Has it? I don't think so. But since you’ve spoken to me in person, let's call it a day. I have another thing left with you, and I will ask for it when I have time." From the huge eyeball, a buzzing inhuman sound echoed in this building.

"I'm waiting for you," said the holy angel.

The eyeball in the void disappeared, and the consciousness attached to Qi Leren left. Before leaving, he said one sentence to him: "The Illusionist is in the Dragon Ant Queen’s royal palace, and my letter is on the way, so I’ll ask this of you and Ning Zhou."

The Prophet's consciousness dissipated, and Qi Leren was still standing on the ground, with white flowers under his feet. The mechanical clock behind him had not finished three turns, so this power that did not belong to him had not disappeared.

He looked up at the magic dragon standing on the altar, and the magic dragon also stared at him. There was no dried blood on his body and claws, no evidence of his fight against evil and his downfall.

There was a lonely longing in the dragon’s eyes, and it was like a gentle sadness.

Ning Zhou understood his own destiny. Just like every powerful person, the process of becoming stronger was the process of constantly moving closer to his own original force. One day, he would forget himself, his love, how much he loved the world, and indulge himself and destroy everything under the influence of this original force.

No matter how hard he tried to restrain himself and convince himself to persist for the person he loves, he couldn’t deceive his own strength. When he had fought with the monster, he had clearly felt that he was falling. This kind of degradation was a kind of pleasure, and he didn't need to make any effort. As long as he emptied his brain, the strength in his blood would emerge continuously, making him stronger and destroying his enemies.

But when the pool of blood turned into a sea of flowers, and his lover stood in front of him in the form of an angel and looked at him, he felt sincere shame and fear for his weak compromise to strength.

He was afraid that one day he would hurt Qi Leren and the world.

"Ning Zhou." Qi Leren went up the stairs and came to the dragon.

Compared to the huge body of the dragon, he was like a pocket-sized toy. If the dragon's foot even patted him gently, he would be crushed into a pile of meat. This size gap even scared Qi Leren, but he still wanted to believe that he wouldn't hurt him, insisting that the black dragon in front of him is still Ning Zhou.

The dragon closed its eyes, lowered its head slowly, and put it in front of him.

Just like it did in the lake of fire in Purgatory.

It was willing to bow to its beloved and let him comfort its body and soul with his hands.

"It's all right, it's all right..." Qi Leren murmured. The power borrowed from the Prophet had expired, the reflection of Heaven disappeared, his wings disappeared, and so did the intoxicating power. But his calming power still affected the dragon.

So the dragon gradually calmed down, and the force of destruction receded from his body, and he changed from magic dragon to human.

Qi Leren took his hand and looked at him, but his blue eyes that had always been firm avoided his sight.

This was an obviously weak and hesitant attitude, and Qi Leren certainly knew what it’s cause was. Because Ning Zhou had gotten stuck in that dead end again, the dead end that he almost killed himself because of.

He still couldn't accept a self who was a Devil, and was constantly sinking. Even if he was just doing justice as a Devil, it still caused him pain. Because at the end of this road to power, he was destined to become lost like every powerful person.

This was not something that the human will could contend with.

Qi Leren's heart was full of love that he didn’t know how to express, so he stood on tiptoe and left a comforting kiss on Ning Zhou's lips, tender and touching.

He was willing to burn himself with all his strength, as long as he could make Ning Zhou on the edge of hell feel the warmth of the world.

"I once told you, but now I have to say it again: your force has nothing to do with good and evil, and you have never fallen." Qi Leren clasped Ning Zhou's hand and repeated this sentence again.

Ning Zhou slowly rested his forehead against Qi Leren’s, relaxed his stiff body, and closed his eyes.

He wanted to hold this person tight, because this was his last salvation in the world.

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[wizkiddx]

worst case scenario part 3

umm so, never ever intended it to be this long but here we are. again this is v dark so please please read the warning!! also [and obvs] this is very medically inaccurate and just a work of my head aha

[part 1] [part 2]

warning: mentions of death / hospital / mentions of childhood abandonment too- please don't read if this could affect you <3

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

His heart was thundering in his chest, so much so it drowned out all other sounds making all the doctors words fade into the background. Conciously, he really was trying to listen to what the doctor was saying; consciously he knew she was trying to prepare him to see Y/n; consciously he knew she knew he wasn’t okay. But really? It didn’t matter, and as they drew closer to his fiancé Tom felt an urgent sense of relief purely know she was there. She was there and she wasn’t dead…yet. 

Only two people were allowed to go up, just because the nature of the ward - everything was meticulously controlled, including the comings and goings of visitors. If you’ve never been in an ICU it’s a pretty hard environment to describe. Really, it’s just another hospital ward, with capacity of about 20 beds. Each bed has much more equipment surrounding that the average and a nurse is stationed per patient, monitoring every possible variable that the machienes are measuring, so any trend (either positive or negative) can be identified at the earliest point. Though in everyones head, it seems as though ICU is a common place ending up for some unfortunate sod when something bad happens, it’s actually really rare for someone to be so ill and dependant on medicine to maintain normal body functioning. Only the most severe trauma, infection of the most dangerous microorganism, surgery of such high stakes normally make an appearance on the ward. And ,on average, between 8-20% patients that are admitted to an ICU never make it out. 

And those grim figures were unignorable to anyone. As soon as you walk through the doors, the atmosphere is intense and ineffable. It’s not spoken, but is so incredibly morbid it makes anyone shiver. 

Dom felt this, squeezing his sons shoulder as he followed Tom and the doctor, just a pace or so behind them. Having offered to go with Tom, whilst Harrison took Nikki to see the baby, Dom was now feeling just as clueless as his son did. Except he was actually listening to what the doctor was trying to warn them about and it scared him. The three, made it to the door and with a swipe of her ID card the doctor admitted the Holland men in. Gratefully, none of the staff took any notice of who was walking in, they were much too busy for that - Dom was incredibly relieved, had someone recognised Tom when he was in this state, god knows what would’ve happened.

The doctors pace was with purpose, perhaps so that the two couldn’t spend too long ogling the other patients in the beds - who all looked almost unhuman with the amount of tubes and wires coming out and into them. But then, she slowed up, halting infront of a bay about 5 or 6 down the ward. Spinning on her heel and with a subtle nod to momentarily release the nurse from her post at Y/n’s bedside, to give them a bit of privacy, she looked at the two men. 

“You can touch her, just be gentle with the wires.”

Shellshocked and terrified, Tom was frozen those 2 metres away from the bed barely able to see her face over all the equipment. Yet undoubtedly, it was his finance’s delicate visage lying on the white pillow, with a thick white mouthpiece and tube covering her mouth and stuffed into her nose. Not able to move, both Dom and Dr Goodwell sensitively waited - it was an adjustment to say the least, seeing someone you knew so well look so different. With quiet tears starting to roll down his eyes, Tom eventually started to inch toward the bedside, taking his time to try and absorb everything of this frankly ridiculous situation. He couldn’t get over how, even considering it all, above her nose it just looked like Y/n. Like she was asleep in their bed, eyes closed as if she had once again  fallen asleep infront of a random Netflix movie Tom had bugged her enough to watch in bed. And it was, ever so slightly comforting. That was still her, that was still the love of his life lying there. And she was still alive - which given the last few hours, was enough. 

Reaching the bedside, Tom naturally reached out and stroked the top of her head delicately, pulling into place a few rogue strands that seemed to have a mind of their own - she had always hated when her hair got frizzy. The picture had Tom’s mind casting back to their first holiday, a serene if quick few days in Fiji-  though Y/n didnt know this , that holiday had been one of the most important times in their relationship for Tom. Until then, given the nature of his job, the couple had only ever managed brief periods together. They spent time together as and when they could in between Tom’s busy schedule but it was never as long as they’d like. Somehow though, he’d managed to squeeze a few days away to surprise Y/n with the trip. 

It was everything he’d ever hoped it would be and more. In fact it was then Tom was oh so sure he would be spending the rest of his life with her. This thought crossed his mind on the last morning, when he had for once woken up before Y/n - her head mere cms away from his on the pillow. Just like now, her hair had been all over the place and her sparkling green eyes locked shut. Contrastingly though, in Fiji the sight had made him smile softly; now it just made him cry again. 

“Would you like a minute alone Mr Holland? We will just wait outside?” Not even turning round to properly respond to the doctor, Tom just nodded violently, not taking his eyes off his fiancé - waiting till he heard his Dad and the doctor leave the bay; then the curtains be completely drawn to a close, before he shakily cleared his throat to whisper.

“Hey darling… you um-you’ve scared me shitless today… and… and I’m supposed to be the dramatic one in the relationship.” Chuckling wetly, Tom clasped his other hand in Y/n’s - still mindful of the IV port coming out of the top of her wrist. Not that he was expecting any sort of response, yet the lack of her squeezing his hand back still had his heart sink. “Look I…I love you so bloody much and I really need you to get better okay? You’ve never listened to me before but I really am begging you to now, I just.” Swallowing thickly, he shut his eyes momentarily and delicately rested his forehead on hers - his touch feather light. Just needing to feel her. “I just really need you and I really love you., okay?” 

Unsurprisingly he didn’t get a response. The rhetorical question hung in the air alone, safe the mechanical whir of the ventilator and various chimes of the machines and monitor, till his Dad came in. Grasping and squeezing his shoulder lightly, Dom provided the stimulus for his son to unfold from over the bed, standing upright, as both men just took in the sight of Y/n lying there for a minute or two. 

“I need her Dad. I-I-“

“I know Tom.” Speaking so quietly it was barely audible, Dom’s eventual agreement at what Tom was saying was in a way a relief. Haz and his mum had both either been saying or implying that they would be okay no matter what - which came from a good place but was so infuriating. Because god forbid, if this situation got worse Tom knew it wouldn’t be okay. Nothing would ever be okay again. So his Dad’s simple acknowledgment meant a lot, causing Tom to turn round and embrace his slightly shorter father. 

Dr Goodwell silently watched the exchange for a short while and once the men eventually pulled away she stepped forward to give some more information. She went through what all the biggest and scary looking tubes and wires were doing for Y/n, before explaining the next steps. 

“Now as I said before we are sedating her at the moment, while we wait and see if she gets any complications from the surgery that are better treated while she is asleep. By this afternoon we will have a clearer idea and by that point we may choose to withdraw that sedation. It’s important that you are aware though that she might not wakeup immediately. Sometimes some people that have suffered similarly to your fiancé will be unconscious for a while in what I’d presume you’ve heard of as a ‘coma’. Now it’s not as dramatic as you see on TV shows, it’s just Ms Y/l/n’s brain giving her body a chance to recover. It’s often a longer process, which I know is something you don’t want to hear, but I have to be honest.” The doctor was stern but in a softer and from-a-caring-place. “These patients are suggested to possibly recover quicker if they have a steady support network behind them, which it seems like she does. That means that you need to look after yourself so you can help her sir, especially in what could be a long process. It’s not going to be helpful for Yn if you’re killing yourself trying to be here all the time… It seems like Y/n already has quite a big group of you here for her, so please remember you’ve got all of her care team here and everyone else to help you too….Does that make sense sir?”

“Tom” His Dad, in a gentle but firm warning tone, urged Tom to speak and to listen. Properly listen. 

“Yeh… I-yeh It’s just all a lot right now.”

“Of course… and we promise that if anything changes with her condition, you will be phoned straight away. You are welcome to stay as long as you want - the only rules are two at a time, no flowers, sign in and out and then sanitise your hands pretty excessively. If you need anything, Ms Y/l/n’s nurse will be your first port of call.”

“Thanks for everything” Dom nodded in a gracious manner, which the doctor seemed to massively appreciate - apparently, for the job they do not receiving a hell of a lot of thanks. 

“I’ll pop back in a little bit.”

And for a couple of hours everything everything felt like a bit of an anticlimax, nothing happened, not a lot changed. Just Tom and Dom sat next to Y/n’s bed in silence; Harrison and Nikki downstairs with the baby, till Dom got a phone call from Nikki asking them to meet at the neonatal unit  - which was limited by visitor numbers unlike the ICU. Thinking it’d be simple, the elder man gained Tom’s attention with a call of his name, explaining they should go down to meet up. 

“I’m not going down there.”

“Son, I know you’re worried by Y/n isnt going anywhere right now. The doctors said they’d call you if anything happens.”

“It’s not-“ Tom stopped himself, biting his tongue and looking away from his Dad. “I just don’t want to go down there.” Slowly, Dom was more and more realising Tom’s thought process and honestly… it scared him. In the hopes this was just a big misunderstanding he offered a different option - hoping Tom would equally refuse that. Dom suggested going down to the cafe instead, which most unfortunately Tom agreed to. It wasn’t leaving Y/n that was the issue, it was being near the baby. 

Tom’s daughter. Unnamed and apparently abondoned by both parents. 

Anyhow, Dom resigned to playing into Tom’s choice, perhaps Nikki and Harrison would be able to swing him round, to see sense. It still took Tom getting the nurse to triple check they had his correct number on record , just in case, before Dom could tear him away from the bed. Fortunately the pair found a quiet and secluded corner table, where Tom was still yet to be recognised, while Nikki and Haz found them too. 

What followed was Tom answering all his mum and Harrison’s questions about Y/n’s condition, in a blunt and emotionless manner - without Tom returning fire by asking any questions at all about his beautiful little baby girl. Eventually Nikki braved it, someone had to bring it up. 

“Well it sounds like littles going to change for a while… maybe you should head home for a bit? You’ve been up half the night and you look shattered love. You don’t have to go back to yours… you could stay in your old room for a bit?” Tom being by himself at the moment sounded like the most incredibly stupid idea ever, Nikki was offering it as a choice - when in reality there was only one option.

“Maybe later this evening I will? Just don’t want to leave her alone yet.”

“It’s already 7 love, you’ve not eaten all day, you got to look after yourself too.” Harrison and Dom sat awkwardly while Nikki tried to delicately encourage Tom into what was the only sensible plan, watching him nurse the small hot choclate in both his palms. Time really had lost all meaning at this point, for him it felt both years since he’d first arrived with Y/n and at the same time barely 10 minutes ago. It felt weird. 

“We can take shifts? If-if you want someone with her I mean… I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if it means you head back to your parents.” Harrison really truly didnt mind, in fact he sort of wanted to. He wanted to see Y/n’s face definitely alive, wanted to feel reassured by the monitors. Shockingly, Tom slowly nodded his head, surprising everyone with his lack of argument. None of them could work out whether it was a good thing him not putting up much arguement ; either he was heeding everyones advice of taking care of himself - or he had just given up. Harrison, as much as he didn’t want to, was favouring the latter. 

“Okay” Nikki declared optimistically “So maybe you and Harrison go up so you can say good night to Y/n, then we can all go and pick up the baby?” She opened the plan to the floor, allowing for input but got nothing - except maybe Tom’s jaw unconsciously tensing uncomfortable at the latter part of her statement. Dom noticed. 

Not one noticed but knew what it meant. His son blamed his granddaughter. His son, right now in that moment, hated the unnamed and totally helpless baby girl. 

part 4?

[fangirl-everythang]

Happy Father's Day Part 3

Summary: 3/3 Well, its the last part.

Warning: Sad, Mentions Death.

Word Count: 2269

"Harry? " I answer the phone.

"It's not Harry but glad you know your numbers." that high pitch annoying ass voice squeals. Rubbing my stomach, the baby's in go position and any day now my oven will be done baking. And of course, this bitch is answering his phone.

"Well bye-bye just thought you should know where he was at. " In the background, I hear Harry's voice going on about something so it must be true. Hanging up I sigh letting the hot tears roll down my cheeks. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I blame myself really, I let him back into my life and this doesn't surprise me. I gotta pee.

Waddling over to the bathroom door a gasp leaves my mouth feeling the surge of liquids fall between my legs. Holy shit. My water broke! Fuck gotta go. Thankful my bag was already in the car. Harry had insisted once I hit the 36-week mark claiming Styles's are either early or fashionably late.

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. My knuckles turning white as I grasp the wheel. Nope, I'm not pushing anything out of my vagina. Can't do it. I refuse.

The contraction going away after a few brief moments of completely unreasonable pain. Dialing the numbers, I know by second nature, thankfully she picks up on the fourth ring.

"I don't think you should drive y/n"

" Just call 911. I'm almost there! " Gemma ecstatically shouts. She's just like her brother, "Where's Harrold? "

I put the seatbelt on and wince. It's just 28 minutes I can do this. "He's with his whore."

I can hear an audible gasp, "he wouldn't he's so excited for Athena"

"Well I just called him and she answered. " I grunt keeping my eyes on the two lanes ahead of me. Fuck I hate merging lanes people don't know how to drive.

"I'll be at the hospital as soon as possible but my phones gonna-" the line went dead. She did say she was on like 10% oh well.

I can do this just focus y/n. "Hear that baby girl we're almost there, hang on okay Hunny. " I say as a reminder to myself that soon I'll be leaving with another human with me.

6 miles to go that's what I'm talking about, another sharp pain spreads throughout my abdomen while waiting for the light to turn green. "OH COME ON. FOR FUCKS SAKE!" they're getting closer by the minute. Shit. Arriving at a four-way intersection. I'm relieved to be at a red light, the contractions are longer and much more frequent. "Almost there Athena, this is the last light and a straight shot from there."

Abruptly my car is jerked forward with a sharp impact pushing to the oncoming lights. All I see are lights from both directions colliding with my 3,000-pound piece of metal. Sounds of shattering glass and sirens are the last thing I hear before it all fades to black.

||||||||||||||||

Harry's POV

"Has anyone seen Mr. Style's phone?" The helpful aid asked around the dressing room. I could've sworn I put it down for a moment. Y/n could go into labor any minute now and how I am supposed to know. Fuck. I'm stupid.

I was supposed to be here to perform and list nominees and then go back home to y/n. I can't wait to propose to her, she's all I could ever want and she's giving me the most wonderful gift I could ever ask for. Running a hand through my damp hair, the lights really build a sweat, I hear a familiar voice. "Looking for this lover? " she asks slipping my phone into my pocket.

"Good luck at home. " she smiles and winks. Before I could question it she walks away.

Looking down at the device my heart skips a beat, I have 146 missed calls. And I've been gone for 5 hours. Seeing Gemma's name on the screen again I swipe to answer.

"Hell-"

"Harry," she says sniffling.

"Gemma what's wrong? did I miss it? Oh my god I hope not"

"I think it would be best if you came now Harry." she breaks her voice cracking.

"Gem what?"

"Listen Harry, she needs you right now so please." she cries. Not needing another word, I tell Jackson the address and that I need to be there as fast as possible, 45 minutes later we're pulling into the Labor and Delivery section of the hospital.

"Congrats Harry!" Jackson says letting me out at the door. "Thank you!" I beam back at him.

Seeing Gemma, her eyes are puffy with tears still flowing. "Gem what's wro-," a sharp pain to my right cheek stings. Never has Gemma hit me like that, well not since I cut her prom dress. "How could you Harry? Cheat on her again WITH TAYLOR for Christ sakes!" She yells.

"I didn't cheat," I explain to my sister as calm as I can.

She looks at me with wild eyes pulling me into a hallway with fewer people, "Then what happened Harrold?" I clench my jaw instead of speaking, how dare she accuse me of cheating on my pregnant soon-to-be fiancé. Y/n Styles has a great catch don't you think?

"Is she here yet? Gem where are they?" I ask ready to see my new family.

She begins crying again "Harry there was an accident." Those five words make my breathing come to a halt. My heart shatters in a million pieces "Is Y/n okay? What happened?" She begins walking me to a door. "This one," she points. Looking through the glass I see y/n with bruises and cuts to her beautiful face, her stomach nearly deflated from when I last saw her this morning, a cast on a swollen leg of hers, and a sling holding a very damaged arm. Tears brim at my eyes looking at my love on that hospital bed. "She's awake." Gemma walks past me running to the outside.

I gently knock on the door, waiting for a response which I don't get. "Y/n?" I approach her almost as If I were going to help an injured puppy. "Hey love" I smile at her which she glares at me and then turns wincing in pain. "You wanted this didn't you Harry?" I look at her confused. "This is probably great for you, a way out. Well leave." She states using whatever energy she can find.

"Baby I didn't want- I want you and Athena" She breaks down in uncontrollable tears.

"You were with that her and couldn't even bother to pick up your phone!" she screams. "Y/n I wasn-" a knock at the door interrupts my sentence, "Come in" She says glaring at me as a nurse opens the door.

"Hey there Mama, we have a visitor." the nurse wheel in a tiny cart that has a bunch of equipment coming from it. She looks at me and asks Y/n, "Is this dad?" she nods and rolls her eyes. "About time you made it!" She smiles my way. Placing the beautiful baby in front of us. She's so small and fragile. "The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you." She states picking up the tiny child and putting her in Y/n's arm.

"Hi pumpkin," Y/n coos into her ear. "Guess who decided to show?" She smiles, a tear falling from the corner of her eye. She nods her head towards me as I go to hold her. She's so soft and precious. Her small eyes have a gorgeous mix of both mine and Y/n's. She has such a cute round face, I couldn't imagine her looking any different.

"Hi there angel, I'm so sorry I was late." I see a spot dampen on her blanket that surrounds her, knowing that I'm crying. Her small eyes shining like twinkling stars. So small I can feel her fragile body between my large hands.

Another knock before the door opens when several doctors walk in. "Mrs. Y/ln, unfortunately, we have some bad news,"

"Oh, hello there Mr. Styles." They state acknowledging my existence. One of the female doctors places a black and white image on the lighted board illuminating the small figure.

"Unfortunately, due to the accident, Athena has suffered from what we call a fetomaternal hemorrhage."

"What exactly are you saying?" Y/n ask looking at the child still in my arms.

The slightly shorter male doctor points to the image. "This is an abscess of blood in the brain. Unfortunately, the risk is too large to operate. I'd give her another day at most."

"You m-mean," Tears start pouring down her face" I was so scared she was hurt. I-I promise I saw the light it was red, and I-I stopped but," She began heaving losing more air with each word. I gently rub her back as I cradle Athena with one arm.

"She's still being monitored but I'm afraid she won't have much longer." The first doctor breaks the silence. "According to the police report the car that struck you from behind happened to be a drunk driver, Gage Joyce." I can feel the anger surging through me. "I remember the clashing of metal, glass breaking, the sirens but it all went b-black." She mumbles, seemingly remembering the awful experience. I grab her hand in hopes of comforting her but it doesn't seem to work.

"After striking your car at 72 mph it had ample force to push your vehicle into the opposite traffic. Your vehicle took the most impact and was hit by four other cars. On scene, EMT's said you were in and out of consciousness mumbling about a baby. Taken and brought to the L&D." he finishes.

"Fetomaternal hemorrhages are often caused by trauma and sometimes can be revered but in this case, we've done all we can do." They all frown looking at the small girl still in my arms.

"No, there's got to be more you can bloody do! We're in a hospital for Christ sakes!" I exclaim, passing my daughter to the love of my life. She gently caresses her soft skin. She's literally a perfect combination of us. I cannot lose my family.

"You can leave, thank you all for your help." y/n says quietly, they oblige by her wishes and leave us with our daughter.

"Harry," she wipes a tear from her face cautious of the IV placed on her hand, "If what they say is true, I just want to spend time with her." She sniffles. I nod understanding. She looks back at the small being in her arms, "Hi pretty girl, Mommy's so happy to meet you," she unfolds the blanket from her. I sit next to her on the small bed in the room that smells of sterilization. Placing my finger near hers' she wraps her small hand around my thumb, her grip so tight for someone so small. Y/n kisses her forehead, "Harry," she runs her finger along her small legs.

"Can you sing the song?" nodding and softly singing Isn't she Lovely by Stevie Wonder, in the small hospital bed as our new life falls asleep. All night I watch her little chest rise and fall allowing y/n to get some rest soon following my two loves.

By the early morning, nurses are rushing in because of the loud beeping from the monitor, waking y/n and I. It feels like everything is happening so fast but in slow motion right in front of me. Those three words are the ones I didn't want to hear. "No! no. I have to take her home. She's gotta go home..." Y/n screams, not being able to see her face due to the tears in my eyes falling and rebuilding themselves faster than the speed of light. "Call it." One of the nurses shouts.

"Time of Death 6:18 am March 7th, 2019"

As they cleared out the room, I see her small lifeless body curled into a blanket, almost as if she were sleeping, but no longer do breaths fall from her small heart-shaped lips.

//////////////////////////

Y/n hasn't said a word since we got in the car. It's been four days since we lost Athena. She slowly climbs into the car, still sore from the accident and birth. I go to the backseat holding back my emotions and putting the empty car-seat in the trunk of the car that should have been holding three of us.

Starting the silent journey back home she continues to look out of the window, a frown etched on her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks as she instinctively touches her somewhat deflated stomach. What kind of sick joke is this?

"Harry why were you with her?" she asks me looking down at what used to be her baby bump.

"I wasn't love, she took my phone while I was on stage." She just nods and remains silent until we pull up to the flat. She begins walking up the stairs as best she can. "Y/n wait, let me help."

"No Harry!" She yells. Pain evident in her voice, ignoring her I open the door and help her inside. "Harry I can't do this." I stare at her confused, "What can't you do y/n?"

"Us Harry. I can't look at you and not think of her." She sobs.

"Y/n we can-" I try to reason with her.

"No Harry, please just go." She whispers.

"I'm not losing both of you," I state holding back my own sobs. I feel like everything feels like it's getting smaller around me, suffocating in grief.

"You already have."

A/N: What can I say I have a thing for dark endings. Anyways I really appreciate the support loves. I hope you enjoy these! Right now I've been working on a Loki piece, I'm so excited for it. I changed the writing style tho, so it's not 1st person per usual. I think it's going pretty well so far.

xoxo Janelle

[lovelyteng]

Haunted Corruption Chapter 4 - Forget and Forgive

(Fade to Cal when still passed out as sitting and tied with rope for hands and legs on the stage chair, then his forehead, nose, arms, legs, and chest was covered with bandages when got hurts from falling into basement, the voice-over was stared.)

Cal: (narrating) I fell and smashed into basement as passed out, when I barely saw and hear to my 11 friends who got infected with corruption...

(11 silhouette people with Nega-Bosses' eyes was glowing as looking Cal in worried as light on as revealed was 11 Inhabitants who looking Cal in worried. Iben takes Cal's fedora, brown coat, and normal coat as put it on the table.)

Sana: He's seem still doesn't wake up.

Eis: Yeah, seem likes... 3 hours as started getting night!

(11 Inhabitants realized for Eis' said was 3 hours as getting night, they walk away. Cut as close-up to Cal.)

Cal: (narrating) It's been 3 hours for knocked out as started getting night... As I imagined about them... (Fade in to pitched black screen, glowing indigo forming into Cal with glowing indigo as he looking around and started walking.) I'm in my consciousness but different section as appeared me... (Cal looking place was pitched black into school as he gasps in realized as Cal looking 12 years-old of himself who doing his chemistry at laboratory call as he wearing blue glasses, lab coat, blue gloves, and safety goggles.) ...I'm looking my memories.

Young Cal: Okay then. (Picks green chemical of test tube as slowly pours on blue chemical of flask as start worried.) Easy, easy...

(Young Eis walks toward laboratory class as he shocked, then chuckles mischievously as walks slowly without sound, under and crawling, then pop out to behind Young Cal.)

Young Eis: Boo!

(Young Cal screams as green chemical was more pours on blue chemical of flask as turns into dark violet chemical as start bubbling as Young Cal screams and Young Eis laughs while students watching in horror, then Young Cal and Eis paused at moment while students looking them in horror.)

Thomas Hale/Student #1: (in British voice-toned) Eis! What are you'd to done for him?

Edward Dall/Student #2 We're heard about Calvin's experiment was highly dangerous when more pours on his chemistry!

Young Eis: (worried) Then what is it?

(Dark violet chemical started shaking in violently as Young Cal, Young Eis, and other students shocked to it, then Young Cal screams and runs out of laboratory class as through as phases Cal as he looking 12 years-old self in horror as running and following 12 years-old self in hallways.)

Young Cal: Get out the school now!

(School staffs and students running and screaming as following Young Cal, then Cal running back to laboratory class. Cut to Young Eis shocked about happening while Cal watching him, the he got hurts and passes through him by students running out of laboratory class as falls, he stands up in pain and then runs but notice his feet was stucked by glue on the floor, then he looking another student as 10 years-old as he holding bottle of glue as smiling in evilly was Wally Darren. Cal and Young Eis gasps.)

Cal and Young Eis: (shocked) Wally Darren?!

Young Eis: Why are you did this to me?! I thought you are my friend as beating Calvin! (Cal shocked and then gasps.)

Cal: What?!

Young Wally: Sorry, Eis! But I'm wanted beat Calvin as I'm number #1 of most popular in the school again! (Holds the box of matches as opens, picks and light as fire on the match as Young Eis gasps while Cal watching them in horror.)

Young Eis: What are you doing with match?!

Young Wally: Well, I toss into Calvin's chemistry experiment as explode with fire! (Starts toss as Cal and Young Eis gasps.) Bye-bye, Eis! (Tosses as flying the match, then runs away while laughing.)

(Cal and Young Eis looking the match into Cal's chemistry experiment as it sinks, they screaming in horror, then explode with fire as Young Eis screaming in agony and Cal closed his eyes from bright of explode and the fires phases him as doesn't hurts him. Stopped the explode as he looking destruction of school in horror and then walks to Young Eis who got burn marks and passed out as Cal feeling regret and then looking his 12 years-old self, students, and school staff when looking in horror at school's destruction.)

Thomas: At least everybody got out of school.

Young Cal: (deadpanned voice with worried tone) Well, not everybody.

Dr. Dell Allen/Science Teacher: Where's Eis Glover?!

Young Cal: (still deadpanned voice with worried tone) He's still inside the school as left him.

Edward: As he's irresponsible to Calvin as anything. I calling ambulance for now. (Holds cellphone as calling, then presses "911" and answer it as to cellphone.) Hello, I need the here at the school right now! (Hang out as ambulance drives on the road of school as Young Cal, students, and school staff looking two male nurses holds the bed as running and rolling.)

(Cut to Cal looking two male nurses holds the bed, they hold Young Eis and they put him on the bed, then they towards to ambulance and then drives away while Cal and 12 years-old self feeling shocked and then anxiety.)

Principal Meyer: Now, now, everyone! He's okay as next time to him for enter the repair school while rebuild it as completely fine and-. (He, students, and school staffs looking Young Cal running and screaming in anxiety as phase Cal as he looking 12 years-old self in anxiety.)

Cal: So, that's when Eis learned for responsible to me as anything and got a pyrophobia as fear of fire.

(Cal walks on the path as sky fades into night until found his house as walks and enters as looking inside house as shocked was mess with sharps of glass, chess pieces, and trophies, then looking his past self covers his face in anger and sad as self-doubt, then he shoves chess board against the mirror in anger as breaks of all while Cal shocked and gasps in realized.)

Cal: I remember that! That's when I've gets corrupted as Fortstopher IV with my heart as my emotions has been warped by Lance! When I've got a first lost by Welly Darren!

Dr. Betty Suresh/Cal's Wife: (offscreen; weakly) Calvin... Help me... (Falls and rolls onto stairs as Past Cal gasps and runs to her.)

Past Cal: Betty, my dear! Are you okay! (To himself, sobs) What I have done?!

Betty: I'm okay, I just...

(Past Cal lifts Betty and runs out of his house as Cal following his past self and wife into hospital as Cal phases into it and he enters an elevator and closed as moves up, then stops and opened. Cal runs and enters Room 7 where Betty on the bed and Past Cal sitting on chair as he feeling worried while Cal looking them in regret.)

Past Cal: (sobs) I'm really sorry! I was too much focus for playing the chess until I've got a first lost! (His tears come out while sobbing.)

Betty: Calvin... (Quietly, holds up the rose.) You takes this as remember me... (Past Cal takes a rose and wipes his tears.)

Past Cal: Thank you, Betty! I'll never forget you!

Betty: (quietly) Just... don't... doing... again... as... you... forgotten... your past glory... (Passed out in smile as heart monitor long beeping as Past Cal start crying and holds her.)

Past Cal: (crying as worried) Betty? Betty?! Betty! No! (He sobbing as face on himself as covers his face.)

(Cal looking them in regret, then looking through window was Past Cal walking as holding rose and White King Chess Piece in sadly. Cal phases and jumps down the hospital as he runs and follows to his past self. He stopped and looking wind with fire, then he looking his past self was shield himself as a rose was fire on it, Past Cal looking a rose was on fire as screams in horror as petals of fire rose flying away as it phases Cal which looks in worried at the petals of fire rose flying on the sky and then looking his past self feeling worried for rose was gone, then start angrily as closed his eyes while Cal walks backward as stay back to his past self who stomps his foot and opened his eyes was glowing red and the chess pieces from his pockets as throws in anger and narcissism as self-doubt until White King Chess Piece was last throw on the ground, then Lance appears as behind him as Cal gasps to Lance.)

Cal: Oh no...

(Cut to Lance touches Past Cal's back as dark aura in his heart as he screaming as started surrounding him with dark aura as closed his eyes while White King Chess Piece floating along chess pieces with dark aura, he screaming and opens his eyes was Fortstopher IV's eyes. Cut to Cal gasps in horror to his past self gets corrupted, then he flying away against the mirror where memory's place was fade into dark violet void as mirror breaks it from massive waves of dark aura, he stands up and rubbing his head, then looking in shocked.)

Cal: Oh no! Fortstopher IV!

(Cut to Fortstopher IV opens his eyes and smiling in evilly as Fortie VI pop out Fortstopher IV's chest as he jumps on Fortstopher IV's right hand as he smiling along him as Cal who steps back to them, then Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI turns around in sharply to Cal who screams in worried, Fortstopher IV and Forties VI started feeling in sadly and calmly.)

Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI: (sadly and calmly) Hello, Our Bishop.

Cal: (gasps in shocked, then cautiously) Our Bishop? What was that to called me before? I never heard that.

Fortstopher IV: (sighs in sadly) Because... you have skill of intelligence for chemistry and reading, My Bishop.

Cal: (still cautiously yet confusing) Okay? That's second new called me.

Fortstopher IV: (sadly and calmly) Please... Don't leave us, Sir Suresh.

Fortie VI: We just need you to help us...

(Cut to Cal start walks slowly while he talking Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI.)

Cal: (suspiciously in worried) Yeah, right... I just need to go... safely spot... for this. (Runs away while screaming.)

Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI: (sorrowing) No! (Fortstopher IV floating as holds Fortie VI as following Cal.)

(Cut to Cal running from Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI until falls the hole as Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI looking him in worried and sorrow, cut to Cal looking them in barely worried, then cut to Cal's view as silhouette of Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI looking worried and sorrow.)

Fortstopher IV and Forties VI: (sorrowing, echoly) Our Bishop!

(Cal closed his eyes as screen was pitched black, then he opening his eyes as blurred the view as kind of blurred was 11 silhouette people as focus to normal view was 11 Inhabitants looking worried to Cal, then he screams as start struggles in fear from tied with rope on hands and legs while 11 Inhabitants started more worried than beforw until screams in pain from his legs, he hisses in pain.)

Iben: Stop! You getting hurts while you scared us as moving as painful.

Yuri: When you've got injuries from fell into Basement.

Jose: You need a rest and relax to us, Cal.

Cal: (worried and barely angrily) Rest and relax?! Why are you wants me to rest and relax?!

Sana: Calm down, brother! We know about you're worried to us while one more Inhabitants of half-corrupted was you!

Cal: (gasps in worried) No! Don't do this to me!

Attilio: Actually, we're did you already, Checkered King.

Cal: (shocked) Huh?! What are you means?!

Eis: Which means, you have a symptoms of transformation.

Cal: (still shocked) What?!

Lucy: There's 4 stages of symptoms of transformation. The First Stage was-...

Cal: (annoyed) I know that as I heard that by Eis!

Eis: (To Lucy) Ha! Told you!

Cass: Anyway, Calvin. You stay here while Invisible Custodian watching you. (Cal gulps in nervous as he looking Bruce who smiling and waves to him.) We're right back to get some special for you, Cal. (She and 9 Inhabitants walks away while Cal and Bruce looking them and then each other.)

Bruce: Okay, Cal. I have tell you.

Cal: What is it, Invisible Custodian?

Bruce: What's happened to you while feeling regret about the horrible past?

Cal: (gasps, closed his eyes as starts sobs, regrets) Oh, that was my horrible mistakes for I did to my wife and then my friends as losing them as alone myself!

Bruce: (holds Cal's back as pats) I knows you a lots of mistake, Cal. You might be helping as anything as be... (Cal grunts and breaks out the ropes in anger, Bruce gasps.) Cal?! Are you okay? (Reaching slowly to Cal as he holds his right arm and pull up in anger as Cal opened his eyes was glowing red as he glares at Bruce who gasps in horror) Cal, what are you doing?!

Cal: (angrily) No... Nobody wanted me to be... (Throws Bruce in anger as shouting in anger.) A FRIEND!

(Bruce against the wall and boxes as he stand up and shocked. Cut to 10 Inhabitants runs in worried to Cal and Bruce.)

Haoyu: (shocked) What's going on?!

Lucy: Wait... Cal? (She and 9 Inhabitants gasps in horror to Cal who breathing in anger.)

(Cut to Bruce walks as holds his right arm as looking Cal in horror and then looking 10 Inhabitants. Cal looking 10 Inhabitants in anger and then gasps in realized and shocked while his eyes turned normal, then looking Bruce in horror as steps backward from him.)

Cal: (worried) Oh no, I'm really sorry about this, Invisible Custodian! I just... (Holds his head, then grunts and fall as hold on the floor as screaming.) Oh no!

Jose: Looks like he seems used his anger for now.

(Cut to Cal coming his tears and coughs as come out white pawn chess piece as drools from his mouth, then gasps in horror while 11 Inhabitants yell in disgust and worried.)

Fiona: As started of Stage 1.

(Cal stands up and looking 11 Inhabitants while his mouth still come out with drools and his eyes still come out with tears, he takes fedora, brown coat, and normal coat, and then runs away while crying in regret as 11 Inhabitants looking Cal, then 10 Inhabitants noticed Bruce.)

Yuri: What did you to him, Invisible Custodian?

Bruce: Look, I didn't do that to him! I just talking to him about he feeling regret for the horrible past!

Cass: Wait, he's feeling regret about the horrible past? (Bruce nods in worried, she gasps in realized.) Which means...

Purrla: (in Cass' head) That's our mistakes for ourselves and Cal, Little Time Girl!

Cass: That's our mistakes!

10 Inhabitants: Huh?

Attilio: What are you know that, Clocktower Kid?

Cass: I think we did to him!

10 Inhabitants: (gasps in realized) Oh no!

Haoyu: Which means... we've been got hurts him! (He and 10 Inhabitants gasps in shocked and horrible.)

Iben: I think you're right, Clocktower Kid! Come on as let's find him!

(Cut to Jose and Eis on the door as looking in barely disgust and worried.)

Eis: Actually... we're should following him now.

(9 Inhabitants walks to Jose and Eis as joined them.)

Sana: How? There's no path as following him.

Jose: Just look down, Watcher.

(9 Inhabitants look down, then yell in barely disgust and worried. Zoom out as pans for revealed was chess pieces with covered drools on the floor as the path. Cut back to 11 Inhabitants as Jose and Eis looking them in annoyed and 9 Inhabitants looking barely disgust and worried.)

Lucy: Okay then. Follow was easier than find him.

Sana: What waiting for! Follow him! (She and 10 Inhabitants walks as following the path of chess pieces with covered drools.)

Lucy: (sobs) Why Cal never falls love me?

Inkabelle: (in Lucy's head) Because you're ways too much crazy lovestruck to him, then you need less crazy as he falling loves you.

Lucy: You're right, I'll make him in falling love without crazy lovestruck.

Inkabelle: That's right, Miss Wong.

(Cut to inside of Dressing Room as barely dark where Cal wearing his normal coat as keeps coughing off as chess pieces come out his mouth on the floor as he hold on the floor, then groans in pain as holds his stomach as his eyes turned Fortstopher IV's irises and pupils.)

Cal: Oh no! I'm reached Stage 2! (Spits out some more chess pieces and a checkerboard based slime that turns into a chessboard, he gasps in horror. Fortstopher IV appeared as shadow as behind Cal, gasps.) Fortstopher IV?!

Fortstopher IV: Hello, My Bishop.

Cal: (continue spits out some more chess pieces as drools on his mouth and starts getting swears on his head, worried) H-how did- How did those chess pieces got into my mouth? I don't remember swallowing them!

Fortstopher IV: Your corruption will get worst... Sir Suresh, just you wait and see...

Iben: (offscreen) He's here! In Dressing Room!

Lucy: (offscreen) Great job, Lady of the Midnight Sun! Now, we're capture him!

(Cal gasps and Fortstopher IV fades in disappeared as looking his fedora and brown coat, then broom and bucket, and then gasps in ideal. Cut to outside of Dressing Room as Lucy knocks the door.)

Lucy: Cal, darling. I know you're scared of me when getting too much my crazy lovestruck. Please, open the door. (The door was open by itself as she and 10 Inhabitants looking shadow of Cal, she gasps and runs and picks him.) I knew you for loved me! (Kiss him but spilts out with wheat in disgust.) What?!

(Jose turned on the light as 11 Inhabitants gasps to Lucy holds the broom and bucket with Cal's fedora and brown coat as 10 Inhabitants enter as join Lucy as they're looking in panic.)

Lucy: (panicked) Where is he?!

Bruce: (offscreen) He's in the vent!

(Pans to Bruce points up to opened vent as 10 Inhabitants looking the opened vent. Cut to Cal crawling the vent. Cut back to 11 Inhabitants.)

Eis: I know easy to catch him. Follow me! (Runs away as 10 Inhabitants follow him.)

(Cut to Cal opens the vent as his mouth still have drools as spits out white rook chess piece as it falls as looking down as scared, he gets out of vent and onto the rafters as walks slowly as cautiously without falls, then started little bit of headache and discomfort as closed and covered his eyes and then comes a little relief as opened and uncovered his eyes as turned Fortstopher IV's sclera as inner eyes completely transformed. Cal looking 11 Inhabitants walk on the rafters as he runs while 11 Inhabitants chase him until Cal stepped a broken rafters with hanging of rope as he holding the rope while looking 11 Inhabitants.)

Jose: There's no ways get out of this, Cal...

Fiona: ...As your intellectual...

Yuri: ...Your competitive...

Haoyu: ...Your clever of puzzle...

Sana: ...Your problem solving...

Cass: ...Your past

Iben: ...Your life

Attilio: ...Your experiment...

Lucy: ...Your gentleman fashion...

Eis: ...Your help...

Bruce: ...And your good-hearted and optimistic.

11 Inhabitants: And then we're need you, Checkered King!

(Cut to close-up Cal feeling anxiety.)

Fortstopher IV: (in Cal's head) It is too late for you, Sir Suresh. Your negativity has awaken me and we. Yes we! Will save our friends... Just like we agreed on!

Cal: (shooks as his tears come out, self-doubt) No... I never heard of it... I'll never agreed on for that!

11 Inhabitants: Huh?

Cass: What's going on to him?

(Cal holds up the scissors as start cuts on the bandage. Cut to 11 Inhabitants looking horrible expressions to Cal cutting the bandage offscreen.)

Haoyu: What's he doing with that?!

Fiona: I don't know!

(Cut to Cal uncovered as remove the bandages as he holds the scissors.)

Cal: And now... (Slowly to ropes with scissors while 11 Inhabitants gasps in horror.)

11 Inhabitants: Don't do it, Cal! (Cal stops cuts the rope.)

Lucy: We're know you have a lots of mistakes by yourself as doubt it!

Sana: She's right, brother! Please, don't do it. (She and 10 Inhabitants muttered for Cal don't cut the rope.)

(Cut to Cal shook in worried, closed his eyes as grunts in angrily, and opened his eyes was glowing small-sized red.)

Cal: (in unison of Fortstopher IV and his voice with eerie and echo, enraged and crying) No! Nobody need me as can't been a friend anymore!

(Cal cuts the rope as falls along broken rafters while 11 Inhabitants looking Cal in worried as Cal was surrounding dark aura and then completely covered as screaming, being "eaten" by a black silhouette of Fortstopher IV. Cut as fade to dark violet void as Cal knocked out on the ground as he stand up and looking around as normal eyes, then walks until someone taps Cal's shoulder as he turns around was Chapter 7 Costume Leaders as his power costumes, he gasps.)

Cal: (in normal voice, happily) Christopher, Arthur, Victoria, James, Henry, and William?! You're here on my consciousness?

Christopher IV Fortress/Quad Cannon Leader: Yes, it is, My Bishop.

Arthur Ford Fortress/Paladin Puncher Leader: We're here to help you, Sir Suresh!

Victoria Fortress/Floaty Flower Leader: We're helping you for your life, Cal.

James Fortress/Speedy Cheetah Leader: That's right!

Henry Fortress/Tackling Bull Leader: We're give you the key of combined power costumes!

William Fortress/Triple Jumper Leader: You never give up as be stronger, together, and then...

Chapter 7 Costume Leaders: (jumps up in happily) Hurray! (They glowing formed into balls as flying into Cal as inside him as appeared Combined Costume Key and then he stopped glowing as holds it.)

Cal: (amazed) Wow! I never seen before! (Puts as hide it in his coat.) Now, I finding out of away as I awake up. (Walks continue.)

(Fade out as screen black and then fade to Cal continue walks until stopped as he seeing shadows of Cal's friends even Leo, Emma, and 11 Inhabitants with glowing red eyes as Cal gasps in horror.)

Shadows: (whispered) Cal... Cal... Cal... (Repeats for saying)

(Shadows walks toward to Cal who feeling worried as steps back and then screaming. Suddenly one cannonball flying into group of Shadows as Cal shocked, then looking Fortstopher IV holds Fortie VI who hold cannon.)

Fortie VI: Stay away from Our Bishop!

Cal: Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI? You're helping to me?

(Cut to Fortstopher IV holds Fortie VI as he starts throw Fortie VI.)

Fortstopher IV: (smiling in calmly) Yes, we are, Sir Suresh. (Throws Fortie VI with cannon as shouting in happily onto Cal as shoulders.)

Fortie VI: Holding me!

(Cal holding Fortie VI's legs as he running as holding Fortie VI while firing to the Shadows until runs out the cannonball as left of Shadows was Leo, Emma, and 11 Inhabitants as Cal and Fortie VI hugging each other while Shadows toward them, then Fortstopher IV smash Shadow of Leo, Emma, and 11 Inhabitants as they're gone. Cal and Fortie VI shocked moment, then laughing in relief as Fortstopher IV joined them.)

Fortie VI: That was amazing while we're fighting!

Cal: (happily) Me too! (calmly and barely worried) But why are you acted right now?

Fortstopher IV: Because I heard Purrla as she saying... Our mistakes!

Cal: Our mistakes? You mean, me and our friends have mistakes?

Fortstopher IV: That's right, Sir Suresh. That's why we need you as help you. We're sorry about you to mocking you as ruining your life in whole time.

Fortie VI: Me too.

Fortstopher IV: You are forgive us?

Cal: Yes, I forgive you.

Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI: (happily) Thank you! As you given us for your box of macarons!

Cal: Huh, what?

Fortie VI: (Holds up Cal's box of macarons) After you wake up, I holds it as opens was cinnamon roll macarons for me.

Fortstopher IV: And red velvet to me!

Cal: Lemon Cheesecake flavored macarons as for me! (He, Fortstopher IV, and Fortie VI laughing as Cal takes box of macarons as hide it, then he sadly) Well, nobody need me as can't been a friend anymore.

Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI: (sadly) Same to us...

Cal: I have a learned my lesson... Never doing that again as forget it as they'll forgive us...

Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI: (sadly) Right as same us...

Fortstopher IV: I thinks we're together as bring a friends. Sir Suresh, White King Chess Piece please?

Cal: (holds his White King Chess Piece) Got it!

Fortstopher IV: You holding still as me and Fortie going holds your piece. (To Fortie VI) Ready? (Forties VI nods and rises his hand, to Cal) Ready, Sir Suresh?

Cal: (nods in determined) Ready!

Fortstopher IV: On three! (Rises his hand) One... Two... Three!

(Fortstopher IV and Fortie VI holds Cal's White King Chess Piece along Cal as they glowing mix of red and indigo layers as White King Chess Piece into Black King Chess Piece. They float and then flashes of light explode as screen pitched white as fades into screen pitched black. Screen shown like someone's view was open as kind of blurred was 11 silhouette people as focus to normal view was 11 Inhabitants looking worried to Cal. Cut to Cal covered the shadow with Fortstopher IV's eyes was glowing while different shapes, he closed his eyes, stand up toward light on to Cal as revealed was half-corrupted of Fortstopher IV and he opened his eyes and smiling while 11 Inhabitants gasps and looking to Cal in mix of shocked and amazed.)

Eis: Wow! Checkered King was amazing of half-corrupted form!

Sana: (excited) I know, right?

Lucy: (amazed) I know as he's handsome and gentleman.

(Cut to Cal looking and walks 11 Inhabitants, then feeling sadly.)

Cal: (in unison of Fortstopher IV and his voice with eerie and echo, sadly) Guys, I'm so sorry about this as I'm so mad to I did you as hurts.

Lucy: It's okay, Checkered King. We're so sorry, we're did you as hurts you.

Cal: Madam of the Mansion? You're not crazy lovestruck to me?

Lucy: No, not doing that again as forget it.

Cal: Same for me as you're saying, Madam of the Mansion.

Lucy: I have tell you about your wife...

Cal: What is it?

Lucy: That was my sister.

Cal: (confused and shocked) Huh? Betty was your sister?

Lucy: Yes, that's why I wanted you to fall loved me.

Cal: Guys, did you forgive me?

Cass: (nods along 10 Inhabitants) Yes, we're forgiven you.

Attilio: Did you forgive us?

Cal: Yes, I forgiven you, guys. (11 Inhabitants cheers as he applause, then drag by Lucy who holds his tie, nervously as blushes.) Madam of the Mansion! I don't want to-... (Lucy covers his mouth.)

Lucy: I know. You don't wanted crazy lovestruck was too much. Then I wanted you...

Cal: (muttered) What is it?

(Lucy kisses Cal each other while 10 Inhabitants gasps in amazed as Cal shocked and then happily as closed his eyes as continue kissing each other and then let it go as Cal and Lucy open the eyes as smiling each other and laugh.)

Lucy: Hey, Checkered King?

Cal: What is it, Madam of the Mansion?

Lucy: I'll show you for painting as I made you. (Holds covered the frame with sheet as holds the sheet.) Behold... (Pulls the sheet as shown the painting was Cal smiling and holds White King Chess Piece.) You and White King Chess Piece!

11 Inhabitants: (amazed) Wow!

Cal: Thank you, Madam of the Mansion! (Hugs Lucy as each other while he and 11 Inhabitants laughing until metal and glass shattered sounds likes as they shocked.) Hello? Someone here? (Six familiar costumes covered the shadow as they're feeling worried.) Come on here. Don't be scared. We're not getting hurts you.

(Cut to six familiar costumes walk together as revealed was Chapter 7 Costume Leaders as Inhabitants gasps.)

Inhabitants: Huh? Christopher, Arthur, Victoria, James, Henry, and William?

Cal: What are you doing here?

Christopher: Well, Leo and Emma... Were trouble from Lance.

Inhabitants: (gasp in horror) Leo and Emma was trouble from Lance?!

Cal: Oh no...

(Inhabitants and Chapter 7 Costume Leaders looking each other in worried. Fade out as pitched black screen.)

To be continued.

List of Chapters

First

Previous

Next

[cheshiresense]

For the headcanon thing if I'm not too late. Headcanons for FemIchigo/Kisuke ship?

Lol you didn’t give me an AU? Guess I could throw them in the canon verse but the events wouldn’t be much dif imo. But let’s see how this goes.

Edit: Welp. This got long.

1. Ichigo keeps her hair long because of her mom. Masaki had long hair, and even if it’s not the exact same colour, Ichigo grows her own hair out in her honour, as a reminder of the one time she failed to protect her precious people and just because she’s never met anyone with hair as pretty as her mom’s.

The first time she gets into a serious fight with Shinigami, that dick Renji uses it against her. He grabs her hair, and taunts her with it, and in the end, she kicks his ass, but then his dick boss shows up and just about kills her. When she wakes up at the Shouten, she’s half-naked, wrapped in bandages, and her hair’s been sliced ragged, left in uneven strands around her shoulders where before it had reached her waist. Urahara is nice enough to cut and style it for her. He tells her he only knows how to cut it one way because a good friend of his used to wear her hair short. It’s cute enough, and at the end of the day, Ichigo would much rather keep her life than her hair, but she also locks herself in the bathroom later that night and has a good cry about it. It’s stupid, it’s just hair, it’ll grow back, but it still feels a little like losing her mother all over again. She gives herself twenty minutes, and then she gets her shit together because she has to go save Rukia, and Urahara promised to make her strong enough so she needs to get some sleep more than anything else right now. When she gets back to her room though, the rest of the Shouten is still silent but there’s a tray of tea by her futon, still hot, and too sweet to have been made by Tessai. Ichigo doesn’t even like tea, but it’s a surprisingly kind, amusingly awkward gesture from a man who knows too much and tells her too little. She drinks it all, making a face at the taste but appreciating the warmth that spreads all the way to her fingertips, and when she lies back down and closes her eyes, sleep comes easier this time.

2. Kisuke’s the one who carries her back to the Shouten after she defeats Aizen and subsequently collapses in the aftermath. He thinks it would’ve been easier if she’d been born a boy. She’s tall for her age and gender, but she feels more fragile like this, her shoulders narrower than her usual larger-than-life personality would suggest, her frame less sturdy. Even her bones feel more delicate. Then again, she’s still only sixteen and she’s already lost half her soul in a war she should never have had to fight in the first place, and a good chunk of that blame can be laid squarely at Kisuke’s feet, so maybe boy or girl, it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. She’s light enough that Kisuke can carry her without difficulty, but her weight still feels like shackles around his wrists, tied to an anchor at the bottom of the ocean, like the worst of his sins given life, and Kisuke hadn’t ever thought that would be something he’d have trouble bearing until now. But the least he can do is carry her home, so that’s what he does. He takes her back to the Shouten and cleans her up and heals her– it’s a routine he’s uncomfortably familiar with these days. He doesn’t know if she’s ever consciously realized it, but he’s seen her naked enough times to feel like a pervert. He was Onmitsukidou, and he’s seen Yoruichi change in front of him enough times that the female body doesn’t make him blink, but Ichigo’s young - old enough to have developed curves, young enough that his hands shouldn’t be anywhere near her (figuratively or literally) - but there’s nobody else to do it, Yoruichi is always inconveniently away, so Kisuke keeps his eyes and hands well within professional range, runs a bath for her that takes care of most of the dirt and sweat and blood so he only has to make sure she doesn’t drown, and then whisks her off back to bed where he can bandage up what his Kidou can’t heal before settling down to monitor her reiatsu levels.

She remains in a coma for a month. Kisuke is the one who takes care of her, from fresh bedding to sponge baths to IV-fed fluids, even trimming her hair when it starts looking too shaggy (she’s growing it out again, so he doesn’t cut more than what he has to). By the time she opens her eyes, Kisuke’s just relieved she wakes at all, and it doesn’t seem like she’s (physically) much worse for wear so at least his caretaking skills aren’t terrible. All the discomfort in the world can be tolerated if it means Ichigo remains as healthy as she can possibly be.

3. Ichigo doesn’t see or hear from Urahara or any other Shinigami for the next seventeen months, and she tries not to let it get to her. She still sees her human friends at school, even if she’s no longer welcome in a large part of their daily lives, and Shinigami probably don’t think a year and a half is all that long. Besides, at the end of the day, she knew most of her Shinigami acquaintances for a handful of months tops; that’s hardly grounds for eternal friendship. She’s hurt by their absence, but she keeps herself busy with school, with homework, with the part-time job she finds just to fill the hours in-between. She gets good at ignoring the fact that she knows where her friends go after school, knows where her sisters go, and that she can no longer follow them. Urahara doesn’t wear a gigai after all, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to. He probably has better things to do too now that the war is over and Ichigo has done her duty.

So it’s been seventeen months of mind-numbing (soul-wrenching) monotony, and then she gains a stalker. She would never have chased that thief down if she had known Ginjou Kuugou was so… greasy. She doesn’t just mean his hair either; everything about him oozes an oily sort of charm that sets off every alarm bell her mom drilled into her head about Stranger Danger, Female Edition, and it becomes clear very quickly that Ginjou is exactly the sort of man who just won’t take no for an answer. He follows her around, flirts like he thinks she finds him attractive, keeps inviting her out for a meal, even tracks her down at work, and Ichigo’s just about had it with him after he “bumps” into her while she’s walking home from doing the grocery-shopping, because she may not be a Shinigami anymore but she sure as hell still knows how to defend herself and kick a creep in the balls when he dares to sling a too-proprietary arm around her waist, as if he has any right.

As it turns out though, she doesn’t have to. Ginjou gets about half a second to touch her, still blathering on about having something interesting to show her if she lets him treat her to some ramen, and then he’s being ripped away from her, abruptly enough to tear a shout from him, and Ichigo spins around just in time to see Urahara twist Ginjou’s arm behind him at a painful-looking angle before slamming him face-first into a nearby wall.

Ichigo doesn’t think she’s ever seen Urahara so… openly violent before. She can’t stop staring for a long moment, because that casual, effortless strength is… not something Ichigo would mind seeing again. If nothing else, it’s clearly effective (and pointedly ignores the voice that says she isn’t staring because it’s effective). The look on his face though is positively serene, if you don’t count the ominous shadow that his hat is somehow casting over his eyes.

“I do believe Kurosaki-san has asked you to stop harassing her,” the shopkeeper says in tones so airily cheerful only an idiot would buy the act. Ginjou doesn’t reply anyway. He can’t. Urahara’s yanked his arm up high enough to let him simultaneously choke the life out of the guy, his hand about as movable as stone as it pins Ginjou’s wrist to the back of his neck and his neck to the brick wall.

“Hey,” Ichigo says, and then stops, because on one hand, this guy probably doesn’t deserve to be straight-up murdered, but also if anyone in Ichigo’s life can kill a human and make the corpse disappear, it would be Urahara.

But Urahara glances at her, then shrugs a little and releases Ginjou, only to knock him over the head with his cane, hard enough to send him crumpling to the ground in an unconscious heap. There’s a moment of silence after that, and then Ichigo remembers to be irritated because she’s no one’s damsel in distress. “I could’ve handled him, you know.”

It comes out sharper than even she intends, but the sight of him reminds her of how long she hasn’t seen him or any of her other Shinigami friends, and it’s hard to remain mature about it when one of them is suddenly right in front of her again. Urahara, because he’s Urahara, just rakes a too-discerning eye over her like he can see right through her annoyance to the root of it. His expression tightens with something Ichigo can’t name, but all he does is incline his head in acknowledgement even as he smiles in a way that makes her want to punch him. “Of course, Kurosaki-san, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t interfere?”

Ichigo gives him the flat unimpressed look that deserves, Urahara’s smile twitches into something more genuinely amused, and for a second, it almost feels as if no time at all has passed since the last time they’d shared an actual conversation. Then Ginjou groans, Ichigo bristles irritably, and Urahara’s smile fades.

“Kurosaki-san,” He calls out before Ichigo can do more than turn away. “There are some things you need to know. But perhaps we can take this off the streets first? Come back to my Shouten; I will explain everything there.”

Ichigo turns back, scowling suspiciously at the blond, then down at greasy stalker. Great. She should’ve known; of course it would be Shinigami business that actually dragged Urahara out of his shop and into his first interaction with Ichigo after seventeen months of radio silence. But… if Urahara is willing to explain just what greasy stalker wanted to drag her into, Ichigo would be an idiot to turn him down.

“Fine,” She grumbles. “I’m using your fridge though. I’ve got ice-cream in here and it’s gonna melt before I get home at this rate.”

Urahara beams at her and hefts greasy stalker over his shoulder before ushering her to the Shouten. True to his word, he tells her about the Fullbringers who’ve invaded Karakura, and he tells her that the Shinigami have been monitoring the situation, and then he tells her he has a way to return her powers and soul-spirits to her. He shows her the sword, engraved with a bunch of intricate symbols she can’t even begin to decipher, and it thrums with so much power even she can feel it. She has a sudden epiphany that it must’ve taken even a genius like Urahara quite a while to make something like this, because she’d asked around, before she’d lost the ability to see Shinigami, and she knows for a fact that fixing her soul should’ve been impossible. The realization that Urahara must’ve been working on this for the past seventeen months goes a long way to soothing any fair or unfair feelings she had towards him, even if she also thinks he could’ve just told her. But she thinks that, and then she thinks that Urahara probably didn’t because he hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up for nothing. It’s stupid, but so is the way he eases the sword through her chest as gently as possible, as if it makes a difference at all when that first jolt of foreign reiatsu to her system still hurts like a bitch. She thinks she can forgive stupidity though if it’s coming from him. Not that she’ll ever tell him that.

In the aftermath, the Fullbringers disappear one by one, and nobody says anything but an increasingly manically cheerful Urahara gets a lot of wary side-eyes from the Shinigami trooping through Karakura over the next couple of weeks. It’s Rukia (Rukia who never so much as passed on a how-are-you, and Ichigo doesn’t blame her, but she’s never going to forget it either) who tells her later about Urahara kneeling in front of all the Gotei’s captains and lieutenants and begging them to help, who bowed his head through the Captain-Commander’s orders to keep the sword back until a powerless Ichigo has drawn out all the Fullbringers, only to immediately disobey as soon as he got the reiatsu he needed from them.

Ichigo asks, of course, just once, why. True to form, Urahara doesn’t give her a straight answer, he shrugs and lies instead, “Well it isn’t as if there’s anything else they can do to little old me in exile, is there?” But for just a moment, he also looks directly at Ichigo, his gaze steady and calm and unyielding, like there was never anything else he could’ve done, like choosing Ichigo over the Gotei was a decision made as easily as he breathed.

Much, much later, looking back, Ichigo thinks maybe that was the moment she first fell just a little bit in love.

4. Somewhere between the Quincy War and Yoruichi and Tessai moving back to Soul Society and the kids deciding they want to experience high school and normal life at the Kurosaki household, Kisuke wakes up one morning to Ichigo cooking breakfast in his kitchen and realizes he’s sharing a house with a twenty-year-old college student whose Gargantas make for the easiest commute to and from school in the history of public transportation. He stands in the doorway for a long minute, just watching her go through the motions that have become routine at the Shouten for… months now. Ever since he survived the war by the skin of his teeth and ended up half-blind because Benihime is only a quick, crude fix when Kisuke doesn’t know the exact makeup of whatever he’s restructuring. He’d had to study that, and then get some hands-on practice, before finally re-restructuring his eyes one more time. Ichigo had been a big help. Kisuke had had difficulties reading, along with dizzy spells and crippling headaches, so even though she didn’t understand everything, she also spent long hours with him, reading out loud and taking down notes for him, cooking for him and keeping his house clean and even manning the shopfront for him when Tessai was busy with the Kidou Corps. And then, once he was better… well, apparently she’d just never moved back out, and Kisuke had liked the company (has always liked her company) that he’d obliviously taken her presence here for granted.

She turns around now, probably sensing him. Her hair’s almost as long as it used to be back when they’d first met, but she’s tied it up into a messy bun. She’s still in pajama pants and one of his shirts because she likes the larger size and she keeps stealing them and Kisuke doesn’t mind, he has more than enough.

Maybe he should’ve minded.

“Hey,” Ichigo greets around a stifled yawn. “Food’s almost done. Could you set the table?”

Kisuke makes an agreeable noise and starts pulling down tableware from the cupboards. The coffee’s also done so he pours a mug, and then prepares the tea with the water that’s just finished boiling. Five minutes later, they’re seated around the table, Ichigo grumbling memorized literature quotes into her coffee because she has finals next week, and Kisuke just… watches her. They’ve thrown the porch doors open because it’s summer and the morning breeze is nice. Ichigo has her back to it, and the sunrise that frames her head like a halo gilds her bright hair gold. When she finally sets her coffee down, she looks up and catches his eye, and even as her eyebrows go up in an unspoken question, the smile that blooms across her face at the same time is as much a reflex as it is genuine, like the mere sight of him is something to be happy about, and Kisuke is helpless to do anything but smile back.

Shit, he thinks, far too late. I’m definitely going to hell.

5. “I’m definitely going to hell,” he moans into the table. Yoruichi, because she is first and foremost a terrible best friend, is too busy laughing at him to console him. At least she came prepared with the sake when he called her in a panic once Ichigo had left for class.

“Took you long enough,” Yoruichi chortles, like this isn’t a Big Problem. “Tessai thought for sure you’d realize she’s practically your wife-” Kisuke winces. “-when she went off to college and still went back to the Shouten every night. But I’ve known you longer so I figured it would take you a while before it clicked.”

“We are roommates,” He hisses vehemently, downing another cup of alcohol before pouring himself some more. “I’ve never- Yoruichi-san, I would never- I wouldn’t-”

“Well that was obvious too,” Yoruichi snorts, but her gold eyes are suddenly a lot less amused a lot more focused, acute and unblinking on his face. “But you know, if she’s old enough to kill for you, then she’s old enough to fuck.”

Kisuke freezes, and then straightens, and he has never looked at Yoruichi the way he does now, but there’s ice in his veins and a knot of flash-fire rage and black-fanged guilt clawing up his gut, and he couldn’t stop the crass words if he wanted to, “She was old enough to kill for me at fifteen; was she old enough to fuck then too?”

Yoruichi doesn’t even flinch, just pins him with a burning look sharp enough to cut. “Well you didn’t wanna fuck her then, did you? But she’s an adult now, and she can make her own choices, and I know you suck at human-ing so I’m gonna go ahead and give you a piece of advice in advance and hopefully save everyone a lot of needless drama - in general, people don’t like it when you make decisions for them because you think you know better. So before you panic even more and start pushing her away ‘for her own good’ but really actually because you freaked out about having feelings, maybe, just maybe, ask her what she wants.” She grins like a tiger that has its prey cornered. “Ichigo’s not stupid. Even I don’t know if she knows about your gigantic crush yet, she’s surprisingly closed off about personal issues, but let me just remind you, Kisuke - she didn’t sit at my bedside, or Shinji’s, or even Rukia’s, after the war, and you know full we were all laid out for days, if not from injuries then exhaustion.” She leans forward and snags the front of his Shihakushou to give him a hard shake. “Are you listening to me, Kisuke? She cares about you, and you care about her, and I have not seen you this happy in a very, very long time.” She glares at him, daring him to argue. “Even if nothing comes from this, even if you just stay friends, don’t you dare fuck this up for yourself. You’ve got a good thing here. She’s good for you, and she makes you happy. And it’s not a crime to be happy, Kisuke.”

She lets him go. Kisuke doesn’t move for a long minute, and this time, Yoruichi waits him out. “…What if I’m not good for her though?”

Yoruichi clicks her tongue and reaches for her own sake again, limbs going feline-languid once more. “That’s for her to decide. She’s got a decent head on her shoulders, Kisuke; if you really were poison for her like you seem to think you are every damn turn of the moon, she would’ve dropped you a long time ago.” She pauses to take a swig, and then she kicks him under the table hard enough to make him yelp. “Now quit being a coward, drink your damn sake, and then go home and be disgustingly domestic with your roommate when she gets back. And if after all this crap you put me through, you still end up hurting her, I’m gonna tell Kuukaku, and she’ll make you wish you were just dead.”

Kisuke thinks about that for a moment, remembers some of the antics Kuukaku used to get up to with Yoruichi, and internally cringes. “Right,” he sighs. Yoruichi rolls her eyes at him, and he sighs again. Well, he supposes he should’ve known better than to get any sympathy from Yoruichi. He also mulls over what she’s said though, and… well. If nothing else, Ichigo’s choices are her own. Kisuke’s manipulated her into a war once already. He can’t - he won’t - do it to her again, for anything.

He downs the last of his alcohol and this time dares to hope.

6. They never actually sit down and lay all their cards on the table and talk about it. It’s not in either of their natures; Ichigo prefers actions, and ninety percent of Kisuke’s words have always been used to deflect and manipulate. But, for Ichigo, the Shouten becomes home. She never moves out (and yes, she knew what she was doing when she packed up most of her belongings and carted them over to the shop), and at first, it was just to help because Kisuke was so badly injured from the war, but the longer she stayed, the harder it was to think about leaving again for good. When Kisuke hadn’t said anything even after he’d fully recovered, she took it as permission to stay, and of course that didn’t do anything to make her like him less. She enjoys his company, likes reading in his labs while he fiddles with his experiments, likes surprising him with new recipes, likes being surprised when he modifies or creates yet another Kidou spell for her monstrous levels of reiatsu so that it won’t blow up when she tries it. She likes that he always tucks her into bed if she falls asleep at her desk studying, and she likes that he trusts her enough to walk around without wearing his hat all the time. She likes that between her strength and adaptability and his creativity and cunning, they’re more or less evenly matched in a spar, and the harder she pushes him, the more thrilled he gets at having to work for his victories. She likes that he comes home one day with something both new and still familiar in his eyes when he looks at her, and a month later, on her birthday, he takes her halfway across the world to a rare book convention with a focus on Shakespeare, and halfway through that, his hand swings out to tangle her fingers with his own.

They never really talk about it, but Ichigo migrates into his bedroom one night and never sleeps in her own room again. They take things slow, honestly more for Kisuke’s benefit than her own, but she doesn’t mind because mostly, she just likes having Kisuke there, with her. He still treats her like glass sometimes, like something priceless he’s afraid to smudge just by touching it. Those days, Ichigo sprawls across him with all her weight and stays there until he wraps himself more firmly around her, usually dozing off while Ichigo works on a draft of her first book.

They don’t talk about it. But they don’t have to, to know what they mean to each other.

[welcometophu]

Not Your Guardian Angel: Chapter 21

Marked Book 3: Not Your Guardian Angel

Chapter 21

[ Previous | First | Next ]

Pels swims back to consciousness, gripping the hand in hers tightly as she feels herself wake. “What…?”

“Shh,” Dad whispers. “Rest.”

“Pels?”

Wait.

“Mom?” Her throat hurts, and she’s not sure why. Maybe it’s just dry. Maybe she screamed. Was she screaming? There’s a hazy memory of flying and sound and then… no, she doesn’t have anything she can grasp.

The hand on hers grips her so hard it hurts. She whimpers, opening her eyes to see her mother leaning in close, reaching out to touch her cheek with her free hand. “Pels,” Mom whispers. “Thank God. You were in an accident. Do you remember…?”

Flying… the car tumbling….

“Are Jess and Shane okay?” she asks. She remembers leaving PHU with them, heading for Valiant. Dad wanted to take a different route. Then… just bits and pieces.

“In better shape than you are,” Dad murmurs. “They’re fine.”

“In the waiting room,” Mom says. “Treated and released. Their parents have already been here and left again. You were… it’s a miracle.”

“It’s Dad,” Pels says. She doesn’t know for sure, but he had to have been involved. He has to be the reason she’s still here, the reason that Jess and Shane are okay.

“Hey, Mom.” The curtain pulls back, and Cheyenne is there, poking her head in. “They said there’s one food court open at this hour and Jess and I were going to—oh my God, Pels! You’re awake!” She squeals loudly, darting to Pels’s bedside, hugging her hard enough that it hurts.

“Cheyenne. Hey. Please….” Pels tries to push her away, thankful when Dad helps. The IV in the back of one hand hurts, and her body just aches like she’s been on the inside of a cement mixer. With the hardened cement. “How are you here?”

“I need to go tell Jess and Shane.” Cheyenne disappears with a rattle of the curtain as she drags it shut behind herself. There’s a call of, “please don’t run!” in the distance, along with Cheyenne’s footsteps moving quickly away.

Mom releases Pels’s hand so she can settle back in her chair. “They called me as soon as you arrived in the hospital. You’re eighteen, and you had all your information on you, but I was listed as your emergency contact, so—”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Pels says quietly. “I don’t really remember everything.”

“I don’t know everything, either,” Mom admits. “We’ve been trying to put it all together, but even with the witness accounts, it doesn’t make sense. The police are still investigating as far as I know. It’s been about six hours since it happened.”

“Only six hours?”

Mom looks down at her hands, twined together in her lap. “One advantage to this area is that there are a number of experienced and very talented Healers available and on-call,” she says quietly. “It would’ve been far worse without them. It’s still not going to be easy. You’re here until Sunday at least, so Cheyenne and I will stay in the area through the weekend. We need to get a hotel.”

“Ma’am?” The curtain draws back again, a nurse looking in, her expression pinched. There’s a commotion behind her, and Dad pulls the curtain further open to show Cheyenne in the hall with Jess and Shane.

Mom glances at the curtain moving on its own, and the nurse’s confused expression. “Please,” she says quietly. “Let them in. They are—” Her gaze falls to where Pels’s hand lies on top of the sheets. “Something close enough to family that they should be with her.”

People have been talking while Pels was unconscious. Dad looks innocent, and Pels supposes he has to be since without Dax or her, he can’t exactly talk to anyone. But she wouldn’t put it past him to have helped facilitate the conversation starting somehow.

“Please,” she echoes.

The nurse yanks the curtain closed, and sounds are muffled but Pels is certain she’s giving everyone very specific orders for how to behave. Pels clenches her hand, the machines beeping faster as her heart accelerates. She needs to see them more than that one glimpse, needs to know—

“They’re okay,” Dad promises.

It’s hard to believe that for herself until the curtain opens and they drag in two more chairs. Shane sets his on Pels’s other side, and Jess sits further back, arms crossed and lips pressed tight together as if she’s holding herself back. Cheyenne curls up on Mom’s lap like she’s three instead of thirteen.

“If you cause any distress—”

“I’m better if they’re here,” Pels says. She carefully holds up her hand, wincing as the IV pricks her when she twists it to show the ink. “We’re soulmates. It’s a magical thing.”

The nurse’s gaze flicks from her to Jess and Shane, and she sighs. “Fine,” she mutters, yanking the curtain closed around them.

Between the hospital bed, three chairs, all the machinery, four people, and a ghost… the room is full. Too full. But Pels can’t give it up. “I need you to tell me you’re okay. Dad said—and I can see—but….”

Shane lightly places his hand over hers, and the warmth of bees is a comforting buzz under her skin. “We’re surprisingly okay.”

“This guy came out of nowhere around the curve,” Jess says, her voice strangled and tight. “He swung out over the solid line to pass a truck and he and was completely in our lane. I tried to swerve, so he didn’t hit us head on. I think he hit the front, then we were flying and that’s… I can’t really remember.”

Pels looks at Dad.

“I did my best,” he says quietly from where he stands by the curtain. “I tried to make it better. I’m just not—I’m not that good.”

“Dad helped,” Pels says. She nods at him, hoping he’ll keep going, and she echoes his words as he speaks.

“When Jess jerked the wheel, the car started spinning,” Dad says quietly. “I don’t know if you caught gravel or what, but you spun out. The oncoming car struck the front, then the back, and you flipped. Your seatbelt failed, Pels. Your door popped open. You went flying. I couldn’t—I tried….”

Pels takes a breath while Dad fades in place as she watches, his hand the clearest part of him where he grips the curtain tightly.

“I made it into Jess’s car first,” he says quietly. “Kept them safe. I was with you as you landed. I tried to cushion your fall. I tried—” His hands both come up, fingers extended, and Pels can almost feel that in her own hands, like she wants to reach out. “I don’t have the magic that I feel like I should have. I had to catch you on my own. I did my best.”

“It’s okay,” Pels says quickly as soon as she finishes relaying his words. “You did your best. It would’ve been worse if you hadn’t—”

“It wouldn’t have happened at all if you’d just taken the damned detour,” Dad says sharply.

Pels sits there, her mouth hanging open slightly.

She swallows hard. “What’s the point of being an Oracle if nothing makes sense until after it happens?” she mumbles. “I don’t get it. It’s all just too late then.” Maybe it’s a question for Dax and his family, maybe they can help her understand. Dad’s obviously not being clear about it.

“We’re bruised,” Jess says quietly. “I felt—it seemed like we should’ve been worse off, but something held me into my seat, kept my head from hitting the roof when we went upside down. Then it was gone, and I could move again when the car settled. And you were just—you were gone. That stupid seatbelt.”

“The EMTs on scene thought it was a miracle. We couldn’t really explain about your Dad,” Shane says. “My Dad’s impressed. It’s the first time I’ve ever come out of an accident less injured than I should be, rather than more.”

“How’s the other guy?” Pels needs to know that, just like she needs to know about everyone else on the road.

“The driver of the truck is fine. The driver of the car that tried to pass it was taken to the trauma center in Albany, but he was alive. Thankfully he was alone in his car.” Shane’s thumb moves against her skin, gentle and soothing. “We didn’t ask any more questions, honestly. We were far more worried about you. The Healers were with you for a couple hours, but they said you didn’t need surgery. They were able to do what they needed without surgical intervention.”

That doesn’t seem to make sense. “What?”

Dad pulls the curtain and steps out, the curtain falling back in place after his exit.

“Surgeons were unable to get into the room,” Mom says tightly. “I was told after I arrived. They thought you would need surgery—there was a risk of injury to your spine after you were thrown—but somehow they had the impression that Healers needed to be the first line of defense. As it turns out, the damage was more easily reparable by Magic than by traditional surgery. They can’t repair soft tissue damage, so you’ll still have recovery time, but it will be must faster than if it were repaired by invasive measures.”

“I only heard about it after, but I got the impression that the tantrum was emphatic, but subdued,” Jess says, her tone almost light. “Your dad is very protective of you.”

“Yeah.” Pels relaxes, letting the bed take her weight. “He is. But I still feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. And a little light-headed.”

Shane reaches up with his free hand to touch the bags hanging from the IV. “You’ve got a saline drip, you had one of those sugar solutions for a while, but it’s gone now, and I believe you’ve had medication. That’s probably why you’re light-headed. Now that you’re definitely out of risk for surgery—and you’re awake—maybe we can get someone to bring you some food.”

Her stomach rumbles. “I didn’t get dinner,” she grumbles. “We didn’t get our date.”

“We’ll have another chance to go out.” Shane stands, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Jess and I are going to go see if we’re allowed to bring you something to eat. Is your Dad—?”

Pels shrugs, and oh, ow, that hurts to move like that. She can feel something across the back of her neck, like her shoulders are bruised deeply. “He left. It’s okay, I think maybe Mom and I….” Her voice trails off as she looks at her mother. Cheyenne is still curled on her lap, head on her shoulder, eyes closed as Mom strokes her hair. “We should probably talk.”

“We’ll be back in a bit.” Shane holds out a hand to Jess, their fingers loosely clasped as they exit the small space. Pels half expects Dad to drift back in their wake, but he doesn’t reappear.

It’s just her and Mom and Cheyenne.

There’s a small choked noise, and Pels realizes that Mom is crying.

“Hey.” She tries to leverage herself up onto one elbow, reaching towards Mom. It pulls at her IV and she falls back with a groan because that was all just such a bad idea. “I’m okay,” she says weakly. “As long as I don’t try doing anything stupid, I’m okay.”

“You’re alive because of something I tried to pretend didn’t exist,” Mom whispers. “You’re alive because of him.”

“That’s true.” Pels can’t deny it. “I’ve tried to tell you, but you, and well, Peter—”

“I know.” Mom sounds exhausted. Defeated. “I just couldn’t believe that this could be true. I didn’t know he was Talented, and I didn’t know how it could happen. If he was alive, how could he be with you and I didn’t know? Why did he abandon me? And if he was dead… if he’s dead… it’s still the same question. How is he here, now, with you? Why? It just… doesn’t make any sense, Pels.”

Pels glances at the curtain, but no, they’re still alone. “He’s not here right now,” she answers the question before Mom or Cheyenne could ask. “I think there are some things even he doesn’t really know. I get the impression he’s just with me, and that he was learning how to be who he is while I was growing up. I know what I told you before, and that’s all. And if you never talked about it….”

“Maybe I need to find out more about Ammon Masri,” Mom murmurs. “I’m just not sure how. I never met his family.”

“I think they were local, but they’re gone now. I got that much out of him,” Pels says.

Mom doesn’t look at her, staring at the ground while one hand strokes soothing circles on Cheyenne’s back. “This is my fault,” she whispers. “I need to fix it. You think he’s been with you since you were born?”

“Pretty sure, although I don’t really have great memories of infancy,” Pels says dryly.

Cheyenne snickers.

“I went home,” Mom murmurs. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and my parents took me in, even though I’d been in this Godless place, even though I was pregnant. They took me in, and I didn’t ask questions. I went back to the Church because God loved me when no one else did. God accepted me back.”

Pels bites her tongue; this is not a can of worms she wants to open right now. But she sees how Cheyenne goes stiff, despite Mom’s soothing touch. A moment later, Cheyenne wiggles herself free and moves to the chair Jess abandoned, bringing her feet up to perch her heels on the edge, arms wrapped around her knees.

Mom slowly sits upright, pushing her hair back from her face. “I think I might need to go home,” she says.

“I—”

“To Virginia,” Mom says, as if Pels didn’t start speaking. “To my parents. Where you were born. I don’t know if you even remember—”

“I don’t,” Pels says. It’s a lie. She remembers the place, and she remembers some of the earliest incidences of Dad interfering on her behalf. But her memories of her grandparents are dimmed, buried behind the memories of Peter becoming a part of their lives. They are dark figures in the recesses of her mind, stoic and stern.

She remembers not missing them. She’s never really understood the idea that grandparents are soft and warm and caring. She hasn’t seen hers since she was five.

“But Cheyenne….” Mom’s voice drifts away as she looks at her.

Cheyenne slowly uncurls and lowers her feet to the ground, her hands balled in small fists against her knees. “How much trouble can I get into going to school?” she asks, her voice high-pitched and tight. “I can ask my friends to give me rides. Maybe I can stay with Ashleigh. She’s part of the Church, so Dad can’t be against that, right? And it’d make it easier on him if he doesn’t have to get me to practices and things. He needs time for his Ministry.”

Mom exhales roughly. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll be fine,” Cheyenne insists.

“Maybe just think about it. There might be something else.” Pels doesn’t like the idea of leaving Cheyenne alone with Peter, either. She doesn’t trust her stepfather at all, not when it comes to Talent, and not without Mom there to protect her.

“We’ll figure something out,” Mom promises. “We’ll find out answers.”

Sure. Great.

Pels still isn’t sure they’ve even found the right questions.

The curtain rattles, Dad pulling it back as Jess and Shane return. They carry a box with several small cans and juice boxes, along with an assortment of plastic-wrapped sandwiches.

“We didn’t even have to go to the café,” Shane says. He lifts different drinks. “The nurses felt sorry for us and raided their fridge. I’ve got apple juice, cranberry juice, chocolate milk, and ginger ale. The sandwiches are tuna, turkey, egg salad, or cheese. I’ve got condiments separate because apparently everything comes without mayo because we’re healthy.” He drops back into his chair and holds up the box. “You get first choice, Pels.”

“I can eat?” She wiggles her fingers at the box. “Tuna and apple juice. I’m starving.”

Shane lifts the bed so she can sit up, while Jess places the requested sandwich and drink aside. Jess hands out the rest, then turns the box into a makeshift tray for Pels.

It’s just terribly dry tuna salad but it tastes so damned good right about now. She devours half the sandwich before she manages to slow down. Jess silently sets another juice box on her lap when Pels drains the first, and she hovers there for a moment, as if she wants to reach out to her. Pels glances at her wrist—no change to the mark so she assumes that somehow they’ve come through this without touching.

Or if they did touch, somehow nothing changed.

That seems improbable.

Cheyenne vacates the chair so that Jess can sit, instead finding a spot on the floor to sit cross-legged. She yawns widely once she’s done nibbling on half of a cheese sandwich, then tilts towards Mom, her head on Mom’s knee.

Dad steps out of the way as the curtain opens again. The nurse is different, small and round and biting back a small smile. “Hi, I’m just coming on shift and wanted to see if you needed anything,” she says quietly. “Other than something to collect the garbage. I’ll go get a bag and be right back.”

Mom rises quickly, one hand on Cheyenne’s head. Cheyenne blinks and makes a soft noise. “Actually, if you could recommend a hotel, I need to get us settled somewhere.”

The nurse hesitates, gaze flicking between Mom, Pels, and Shane and Jess. “If you’d like to stay in the room with—”

“Yes,” Jess replies quickly.

The nurse says nothing.

“They’re as good as family, magically speaking,” Mom says firmly. “Cheyenne and I drove up, and we need sleep. Now that Pels is awake and I know—” Her voice catches.

“It’s okay,” Pels assures her. “I’ll be fine.” She can feel exhaustion in her bones again, now that she’s fed and secure. The adrenalin of waking is wearing off, and she sinks back, letting the bed take her weight. “But I’d like it if—”

Jess looks so hopeful, her hands clasped tightly together, so tight that her fingers are pale and her freckles bright against the skin. Shane has one hand on the rail of her bed, close to her shoulder.

“I want them to stay,” Pels says quietly. “They’re my soulmates. Literally. I mean, magically. See?” She lifts her wrist just barely off the bed, the nurse’s gaze dropping to the ink displayed.

“I’ll make sure the head nurse knows,” the nurse says gently. “And ma’am, if you and your daughter would like to come with me, we’ll get you a ride to a hotel. You don’t look like you should be driving.”

Cheyenne makes a noise of protest as Mom helps her stand.

“Be safe,” Pels tells them. “I love you.”

Cheyenne’s mumble is almost incoherent, but Mom’s words are distinct as she looks back at Pels. “I love you, too.”

The nurse returns just a moment later with a tall garbage bin, and to show them where the switch is for the main light over Pels’s head. Even with the light off, Pels can still see easily in the near darkness from the lights out on the main floor, outside the curtain.

Dad settles into the chair where Mom had been, while Shane stays put. Jess moves around, cleaning up and taking care not to touch.

“Thank you for staying,” Pels says. Jess gives her a startled look, while Shane carefully tangles his fingers with hers. Pels squeezes Shane’s hand.

“We couldn’t—we just need to know you’re okay,” Jess whispers as she sinks back into her own chair. “I wish….”

Pels knows what she’s asking, but she can’t answer that right now, not when sleep is dragging her back into its clutches. Instead she rolls on one side, her hand still held where Shane can reach her. Dad sits slouched in his chair, head bowed as if he would sleep as well, his arms crossed and legs stretched out. “Thank you,” she whispers, waiting until he glances at her. “For saving them.”

“They’re yours,” Dad murmurs. He leans forward, lightly brushing her hair back from her face. “Of course I’d save them.”

Everyone’s safe, and Dad’s with them, so they’ll all stay that way.

Pels exhales, and lets sleep steal her away.

[ Previous | First | Next ]

Want to support me? – Patreon | Ko-Fi | Reblog & Comment

[marshmallow-phd]

Secret in His Eyes

Spinoff of Sins of the Father

Genre: Mafia Au

Pairing: Luhan x Reader

Summary: A vacation exploring China’s famous city was supposed to be relaxing. When you witness a horrifying murder, you instead find yourself in police custody, unable to run. Trying to stay alive, you meet Luhan, and you believe you can trust him. You never imagined that he might be the one you should be running from.

Part: Prologue I 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I Final

**

Your hearing came back first. Dull, unintelligible shouts came from seemingly every direction. Around you, but you couldn’t find their sources. Slowly, you peeled open your eyes. You tried to move your body in order to escape the heavy object weighing you down, but even the slightest quiver of your muscles was painful, causing you to groan and hiss. That led to a chain reaction of your lungs needing air, breathing in the dust that clouded the room and sending you into a coughing fit that you couldn’t stop.

Destruction surrounded you. The once elegant office was now covered in chaos, bits of paper and fluff floating through the air, parts of the ceiling now lying on the floor and the bookshelf that once stood tall behind the desk was splintered beyond recognition. The heavy weight that stopped you from sitting up was Luhan. He was half laying on top of you, unconscious and unmoving with an arm draped protectively over your waist. His eyes were closed and no amount of jostling from you would make them open.

“Lu! Lu!”

The shouts came through clearer now, mixed up and cut off from coughs of their own.

“Help!” you croaked out, your vocal cords barely putting in enough effort to push out the single syllable.

Through the clouds of dust, you managed to see two tall figures carefully making their way around the debris. When they finally reached the two of you, one of them hissed in their mother language, but you’d been here long enough to recognize the derogatory word. As your vision cleared, you recognized your saviors as the two other bosses who’d been in on the ploy against you. But that betrayal was the last thing on your mind.

“Luhan,” you whispered, turning to him once again. While he still hadn’t regain consciousness, you could finally tell that he was breathing, the only good sign you could see. With careful fingers, you took hold of his wrist and slid out from underneath him. That’s when you saw it.

Sticking out of his side was a piece of wood about the length of your forearm, splintered and ugly around the edges. A red liquid stain growing by the second surrounded the area where the wood pierced the cloth and into Luhan’s torso. Hands shaking you reached out to him, not sure of what you could possibly do, but you needed to save him. He couldn’t die on you. Not like this.

“Don’t touch him!” the brown-haired one – Kris, you were sure – snarled at you, causing you to flinch back. Over his shoulder, he yelled, “YIXING! YIXING!”

The rustling you heard behind you gave you hope that the doctor wasn’t far, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off the man in front of you, afraid that he might fade away if you did. By the sound of it, Yixing had indeed arrived and was talking to the others quickly. It was all static in your heart, drowned out by your erratic heartbeat. A pair of hands landed on your shoulders that forced you to tear your eyes away from Luhan.

Yixing’s kind, but worried gaze stared down at you pitifully. “(y/n), I need you to move so I can see him.”

You nodded, pushing yourself up to your feet and shuffling back to give Yixing room. With an eerie calmness, he checked Luhan’s pulse, timing it against his watch. “We need to get him to the surgery room.” He kept the language to one that you could understand perhaps to keep you from going hysterical. Admittedly, you were on the precipice, just waiting for the one thing that would send you over the edge.

The two others carefully but hurriedly picked Luhan up, making sure not to cause him too much pain or add to the damage as they carried him out of the crumbling room. You were hot on their heels, refusing to be left behind. If they told you to go away, that might be the catalyst that caused you to erupt.

By a miracle, the surgery room was only a few doors down the hall. You hardly had time to take in the fact that this mansion had a fully stocked emergency room before you were pulled back into the scene at hand. As soon as Luhan was lying face down on the metal slab, Yixing cut away at the button down to expose the wound and get a better look at the fight he had ahead. A gasp escaped your lips causing everyone to look at you. Tao marched up to you and started pushing on your shoulders towards the door.

“Get out,” he ordered. “You don’t need to see this. We’ll tell you-”

“No, Tao.” Yixing turned back to Luhan after ceasing the struggle. His back blocked your view of whatever he was doing to save Luhan, but you were more than okay with the barrier. You didn’t want to see what he had to do, you just wanted him to do it. “I need an extra set of hands. I can’t do this on my own.”

Wait, what?

“She doesn’t have any medical training,” Tao argued.

Yixing didn’t take his concentration away from his patient as he said, “I still need her. I can’t do this on my own.”

You shook your head. “Yixing, I ca-”

He whirled on you. “Do you want him to die?”

“I-” No. Of course you didn’t. 

Despite the betrayal and the hurt he caused. Despite the lies and games. Despite it all… you still cared. Those strange feelings that had been bubbling up inside over the past few weeks didn’t magically go away. You weren’t sure they ever would.

So, with that conclusion, you ripped out of Tao’s grasp and ran to Yixing, following his orders as he had you hook Luhan up to the machines that would monitor his vitals while the doctor worked on removing the wood safely. Somewhere behind you, Tao cursed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You weren’t sure how much time was going by. Beads of sweat dotted Yixing’s forehead. Whenever the droplets started sliding down his temples, you wiped them away so he didn’t have to before he ordered your hands back to their positions. Suddenly blood leaked out from between the splinter and skin. Yixing didn’t seem as worried as you felt. Luhan whimpered, tugging at your heart and making you want to comfort him in some way, but you couldn’t leave Yixing alone.

Suddenly, screams erupted in the hallway causing you to jump. The door burst open and Tao shoved a woman inside. She was dressed in standard scrubs with a white lab coat hanging over them, a badge swinging from the pocket on her left breast.

The mafia members and the doctors started a shouting match, words flying so fast that even if you knew the language you wouldn’t be able to decipher who was saying what. Finally, Yixing threw up his hands and stalked back over to the surgical table where you were still waiting. Tao planted himself against the only escape route and Kris walked over to the few chairs that were located in the room. A groan from Luhan pulled your attention back on him.

“Yixing?” you asked worriedly.

“He’ll be alright,” he reassured you. “I just wish we’d had time to give him something to ease the pain.”

A pair of foreign hands settled over yours. Confused, you looked to see the female doctor’s trained on you with a steely expression.

“Please, move,” she asked with a heavy accent. You nodded, obeying immediately. She took your spot without any additional words. Now you felt useless, but thankful that someone with actual training was there to assist Yixing. Luhan’s chances of surviving were greater with the additional help, right?

“(y/n)?”

You blinked, unbelieving at first that Luhan had just spoken your name.

“(y/n),” Yixing whispered. “Take his hand. Maybe it’ll help with the pain.”

You looked back and forth between the two before finally giving in, sliding your hand into Luhan’s. Immediately, his grip tightened around your fingers and he let out a sigh in content that relaxed the tense muscles in his brow and mouth. The sound of metal scraping against tile wreaked havoc on your ears. Something hit the back of your knees. You barely caught Kris walking back to the others chairs before he collapsed down, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. He’d brought you a chair to sit in? Why?

Deciding it was best not to voice the question out loud, you sat down and scooted closer to Luhan, still holding tight to his hand.

The surgery took hours. Your eyelids grew heavy at times, but you shook the tiredness away. As long as Yixing was working you’d stay awake. You needed to know the outcome as soon as the end was reached.

Finally, you heard the snip of scissors and a heavy sigh.

“We can move him to his bed now,” Yixing informed the room. Tao pushed off the door, grabbed the woman and started dragging her out of the room.

“Where are you taking her?” you asked frantically. He wouldn’t really harm someone who just saved his friend… would he?

“Calm down,” Tao growled. “I’m just going to put her someone secure for the time being. I’m not going to kill her.”

The woman rolled her eyes, but didn’t fight much as Tao escorted her out of the room. He came back a few minutes later and helped Kris and Yixing lift Luhan onto a gurney.

“(y/n), will you help roll the IV?” Yixing pointed to the metal pole and clear bag that you’d hooked up to Luhan at the start of all this. Nodding, you pushed the IV along, careful not to get too far behind and accidentally remove it from Luhan’s arm as they guided the gurney out of the room and down the hall. You weren’t surprised at all when they came to a stop outside the bedroom that Luhan had insisted wasn’t his. It was just another reminder that he’d lied to you about who he was. That didn’t stop you, however, from watching them with anxious eyes as they moved Luhan over to the bed.

As soon as he was settled, you turned around and left. Now that he was out of the woods and starting his journey to heal, you needed space. You needed to be able to think clearly without having pity for him. But that ache in your heart didn’t go away the more distance you put between the two of you. In fact, it became worse. That didn’t still didn’t stop you, however, and you kept going until you reached your room.

When the door clicked shut, you collapsed onto the bed, burying your face into the pillow to make the images of Luhan, hurt and unmoving, out of your head. No matter how many times you thought it over, there was one thing you couldn’t get past: if Luhan hadn’t been standing where he was, that wooden stick would have hit your stomach, making you the one on the operating table... or even killing you. Intentional or not, he saved your life.

The tears couldn’t be stopped as they flooded your eyes and spilled over onto your cheeks. So you let them come, continuing on until you fell asleep.

**

“(y/n)?”

You groaned, shoving your face deeper into the pillow. Whoever was disturbing the only peace you’d been able to find within the last twenty-four hours was about to regret it.

“(y/n), please wake up. I need to make sure that you’re okay.”

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t really find it in you to hit Yixing when he was pleading with you like this.

Releasing a sigh, you pushed yourself up to your palms while looking at the good doctor. “I’m fine,” you insisted.

“You survived a bombing,” he frowned. “You’re anything but fine.”

You rolled your eyes, but sat up completely so he could see all of you. “Look all you like, but I’m okay. Maybe a few scrapes, but nothing hurts anymore.” That was partially a lie. Your muscles were sore, but what could he do about that? You just needed rest. “You should be worrying over Luhan.”

“He’s resting right now,” Yixing said. “He’ll be fine in a week or so.” Narrowing his eyes, he studied your face. “Are you sure nothing hurts or feels broken or badly bruised?”

You shook your head. “No. I promise.”

Nothing but your heart, that is.

“Okay. Then I’ll leave you to sleep. I’ll bring you something to eat in a little bit.”

“Thank you.” You watched until he was out of your room and then you turned over to drift away once again.

**

You didn’t leave your room for the better part of six days. The thought of checking on Luhan crossed your mind, but you couldn’t do it. You didn’t even know what to say to him if he happened to be awake when you arrived. Besides, Yixing kept you updated and he seemed to be healing on schedule. 

The pleas Luhan was giving you before the bomb went off echoed in your head, hauntingly and teasingly. No matter how hard you fought to shove them away, they always made their way back. 

He swore that what he told you before, when he was still Lin, was the truth, but what if that was just another ploy to get you to stay, to be on his side? How could you trust anything he had to say?

Knock, knock.

“Come in,” you called out softly. You knew it would be Yixing. He’d been kind enough to bring food to you a few times a day so you didn’t have to leave these walls. It was odd how he just seemed to know that you needed the isolation, to be away from everything, without you ever having to voice it.

Wearing that same small smile he did every time, Yixing quietly came into your room, shutting the door behind him and settling in the chair by your bed. The tray today housed a clear broth soup with scallions and mushrooms and buttered bread on the side. However, there were two bowls this time. Yixing picked one up himself, sipping from the spoon that was settled in the liquid. Apparently, he was joining you for lunch this time.

“Thank you,” you told him before picking up your own bowl. You were starving, ready to fill your stomach with the food in front of you.

“I hope you enjoy it.”

You smiled at him. “I always enjoy the food you make.”

His cheeks bloomed just the tiniest bit of blush. “That’s very kind of you, (y/n). Though, I’m sure-”

Bang!

The door slammed opened, causing you jump and spill some of the hot soup onto your lap. Tao stood in the doorway, face twisted into a look of annoyance.

Lowering your spoon and rolling your eyes, you groaned, “What do you want?”

“Luhan wants to see you.”

You scoffed. “Well, too bad. I’m eating.”

“I don’t recall asking,” Tao threatened. You kept your mouth shut, pretending that he hadn’t said anything. 

“(y/n), you should see him,” Yixing urged.

The spoon fell from your hand just as you were lifting it back up to your lips. You stared at the doctor. How could he insist on something like this? You thought he was on your side. But apparently the pain you were going through wasn’t enough to dislodge years of loyalty. Now you felt cornered with no way out. 

As you were obviously outnumbered, you set the food to the side and slid off the bed. Tao turned on his heels and left the bedroom, not bothering to look back to see if you were following him. He knew you were there.

The door to Luhan’s bedroom was opened when you arrived. After stepping inside, Tao shut the door behind you, effectively keeping you from running back to the safety of your room.

“(y/n).”

You didn’t want to lift your eyes to the bed, but you knew that you had to at least acknowledge him or else you’d never be let out of here. “Luhan.”

He flinched when you spoke, whether it was the sound of his real name leaving your lips or the still healing wound on his side, you didn’t know. He lifted his hand, beckoning you over. “Come here.”

“I’m fine here, thank you.”

“Okay, then.” Grunting, Luhan flicked the covers off himself and started to get out of bed.

“Don’t do that!” you protested. But it was too late. The idiot was already up on his feet and walking towards you. He was no longer plugged into an IV, free to move about no matter how painful it was for him.

Luhan stared at you with eyes that were pleading for you to not run away. He kept his distance for now, but you had a feeling it wouldn’t stay like that for long. “(y/n), I need you to listen to me. I know I lied about my name, who I am, everything in that regard, but I’m not the bad guy they’ve painted me to be.”

“Not the bad guy?” you scoffed, a sad attempt to fight back the tears that were swelling in your eyes. “So you’re telling me that you’ve never killed anyone or threatened them or broken the law? Because what that’s a bad guy is, Luhan. Can you look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t done any of those things?”

“You didn’t care that Lin had,” he fought back.

You looked off to the side, arms crossed tightly over your chest in an effort to keep yourself together. “I hate you,” you growled through gritted teeth.

“Do you? Do you really?”

Yes.

No.

You wanted to. You wanted to throw everything you could get your hands on at him and scream and tell him to get out of your life for good. But you couldn’t. Because it would hurt you more than it would ever hurt him. What a selfish thing to think, even though it was true. You looked at him and you saw the man who took you outside of these walls and shared a simple warm meal with you in that little restaurant, showing the side of him that others didn’t get to see. You saw the one who’d helped you feel calm in this chaotic environment. You saw the person who’d kept you safe from the ones who tried to hurt you, even though they wanted him in the first place. He was the one who smiled at you, who told you – even if it was a fleeting promise – that he wanted to take you away from all of this. He was the one who had taken your heart piece by tiny piece until you realized that half of it was gone already.

But was he that same person? Was the name really the only thing that had changed? You didn’t know. And perhaps that was what really scared you. Lin was gone now, out of existence. Did that mean the person behind the name was gone as well?

“How can I trust you?” you whispered as you shifted your gaze down to the floor in front of you.

“I’ll prove it to you.”

You snapped your head up. “What’s the point?”

Luhan frowned. “The point? What do you mean what’s the point? I want you trust me, that’s what. I want you to know that I’m still the same person.”

“But what’s the point of wanting me to trust you?” you said. “You’re the one in charge. You can keep me here as long as you want. How I feel shouldn’t really matter.”

He shook his head, his eyes glistening. “I won’t.”

You blinked. He couldn’t mean…. “Won’t what?”

“I won’t keep you here.” Risking it all, Luhan strode up to you until the two of you were nearly nose to nose. “I’ll let you go. Once I find out who murdered my man in that alley, I’ll put you on a first class seat back home myself. That bomb that got past my security shows that not even here is safe for you. And that’s all I want: for you to be safe. So, I’ll do it. I’ll make you safe and get you home. Just give me time.” Taking another risk, he reached out with his right hand and cupped your cheek, making you look at him. “All I ask is one favor in return.”

Of course. Nothing ever comes free with a mafia man. “What do you want?”

“Let me kiss you. Just once.”

[defiblover27]

Wedding Night

Warning this is a graphic story with a good amount of blood, Enjoy!

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

Molly is a 23 year old female who worked as a dog trainer.  Molly is a skinny 5 foot 3 female with long brown hair and a summer tan.  Molly was getting ready to marry her high school sweetheart Phil after they had been together for 6 years.  Everything from the flowers to her dress were perfect.  The ceremony went off without a hitch and they celebrated the night at a local reception hall.  When the newly married couple left Molly voiced her concern that Phil had a few drinks.  “Oh don't worry that was hours ago and the hotel is only 15 minutes away.”  Molly was hesitant but agreed and the two sped off.  As they drove to the hotel the night was dark and starting to get cold.  They had a fall wedding since they had meant during the school year.  As Phil took a turn a little too fast the car ran over a small barrier in the middle of the road.  The car flipped onto its side and skidded down the road.  The car then flipped onto its roof as the car came to a stop.  Molly and Phil had thrashed around the car from the impact and the broked glass flew around in the car.  Phil had smacked his head on the steering wheel and was knocked out.  Molly had multiple lacerations on her arms and face, the air bag slammed against her chest, and her legs became wedged between her seat and the glove box.  The couple had crashed in front of a twenty four hour diner and the hostess called 911.   Molly was in a state of shock and tried to wake up Phil but was unable to.  She was hanging upside down in her car.  Multiple fire trucks and an ambulance arrived as the dark knight was lit up with flashing lights.  The crews worked to pry the doors off with the jaws of life and try and extricate the newly weds.  The crews were able to get off the drivers side door and snipped off Phil seat belt.  The got Phil out and strapped him onto a backboard and gave him a c-collar.  The crews out him a distance away from the car and let the paramedics work while they focused on the passenger side.

Dave and Sara were on scene and took over Phil.  He had a large laceration to the front of his head and his right arm was broken.  When they cut away his blood stained white tuxedo shirt there was large bruising on his chest.  “His breathing is shallow”  Dave said as he listened with a stethoscope.  Sara started an IV in his left arm and then attached the electrodes to his chest.  Dave placed a ET tube down his throat and secured it with some whit tape.  Dave took out a penlight and shined I into his eyes.  “His right pupil is blown and his left is sluggish.”  As Dave finished talking the monitors went flat and Phil went into asystole.  Sara put her knees closer to his chest and placed her hands on his chest and began CPR.  Dave took out the defib pads and placed them on his chest.  After three minutes Phil was still in asystole.  Dave took over CPR and Sara pushed epi and adrenalin into the IV.  After another two minutes Phil converted into V-fib so the defib was charged to 300.  The first shock caused his arms to bounce off of the cement and come back down.  The shock had no effect and was charged to 360 as violent compressions continued.  The next shock sent his chest off of the backboard slightly and then came crashing back down.  The shock sent Phil back into asystole as CPR was continued.

The fire crew was struggling to get Molly out of the car since her legs were pinned in so tight.  Molly was crying and her mascara ran down her face.  Molly tried to move her head to the side slightly but was immobilized by the collar.  She was able to look far enough to the side to see her newly wed husbands body bounce off of the ground and then paramedics resume CPR.  Molly called out to him and became hysterical.  

The third shock left Phil in V-fib and Sara once again took over compressions.  After the fourth shock Phil fell back into a flatline and Sara continued compressing his bruised chest.  Dave took one of his hands and felt the back of Phil’s head.  “There is brain matter coming out of the back of his head. I'm gonna call it Time of Death 21:45″  Dave said as he detached the ambu bag.  The machines were turned off and a white sheet was draped over Phil’s body.

The fire crews were finally able to get Molly out of the vehicle and secured her on the backboard.  Dave and Sara took over and put her onto the gurney as they knew that her massive blood loss from her leg injuries would cause major issues.  Dave was in the back as they sped away from the scene.  Molly’s skintight bloodstained wedding dress was snipped away leaving her tan body completely nude.  The electrodes were attached and Molly went in and out of consciousness.  Dave tried to control the bleeding from the large wounds on her legs.  When he felt for a pulse on her feet he couldn't find any.  Dave knew that her injuries were so severe that she would likely never walk again.  Dave decided to intubate Molly and secured the tube with a blue holder.  Five minutes into the ride Molly went into PEA so CPR was started.  Her small breasts jerked from side to side as her blood covered body laid dying on the gurney.  Molly quickly went into asystole as her heart stood still inside of her chest.  Dave pushed a round of epi that was able to convert her back into V-fib.  Dave gelled the pads and placed them on her bare chest as they charged to 300.  Her body twitched on the backboard as she was constrained.  The next shock was given at 360 and her head went backward slightly against the collar that immobilized her.  The shock was able to restore a regular rhythm.  

As Molly was wheeled into the trauma unit she once again began to rapidly deteriorate. Her tan complexion began to fade in her face and her BP began to drop.  They transferred her over to the trauma bed and Dr. Michael and his team took over.  They took x-rays of almost her entire body as they found that both of her legs were completely shattered and likely beyond repair.  As they worked to control the bleeding from the open fractures Molly went into v-fib and CPR was started.  The monitors beeped in sync with each compression as her chest caved in.  As the defib was charged Dr. Michael took the paddles in his hands and gelled them.  The cold paddles were placed on Molly’s bloody chest which twitched with the shock.  The shock sent her into asystole as her start went completely still.  CPR was continued as Dr. Michael listened to Molly’s lungs.  It was discovered that Molly’s left lung wasn't inflating so a chest tube was inserted.  Molly remained in asystole with no change for three minutes before converting back into v-fib.  The paddles were placed back on her chest as she bounced off the table and crashed back down.  The shock had no effect so CPR was continued along with more drugs.  Dr. Michael used a cardiac ultrasound to find her heart twitching with large amounts of blood surrounding her heart.  A cardiac needle was taken and inserted just to the side of her breast as Dr. Michael removed some of the blood around her heart.  The gelled paddles were then placed back on her chest and she was shocked again.  Her arms fell to the sides of the bed as she was shocked.  The shock sent Molly back into asystole so in a last ditch effort to save her Dr. Michael cracked her chest open.  Blood spilled onto the floor as her massaged her heart with his hands until she converted back into v-fib.  The spoon shaped paddles were placed into her chest cavity and she twitched with the first shock.  There was no response so she was shocked a second time.  The shock caused her hands to twitch upward as her heart went still again and she went into asystole.  A nurse continued the cardiac massage as Dr. Michael took a penlight and found that her pupils were fixed and dilated.  At this time Dr. Michael decided to pronounce her dead.  “Time of death 22:53″  He said as the monitors were turned off.  The ambu bag was detached as the nurses began to detach the leads.  Molly’s battered body was finally covered with a white sheet the same way her husbands was just over an hour before hand.  A toe tag was placed on her right foot.

Molly’s autopsy revealed that a bone fragment had ran through her veins and caused her cardiac arrest.  Molly and Phil were killed on the same night and pronounced with in just over an hour of each other.

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 25)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 

Part 26: here

“Welcome to MacDonalds Sir. Can I take your order?”

The van stops at a drive through, halfway to the hospital and his Uncle. Doom hangs over Arthur like a dense grey fog. A clock slowly counting down.

“Hey. You want anything?” The demon asks, nonchalantly rifling around in the glovebox for spare change.

Arthur’s never swum in the ocean, but he’s watched enough media to estimate and guess that this is what drowning feels like. Memories crash over him, pulling him about in waves. It’s had to keep a grip on what is current and what is past. It’s hitting him all at once. Images of Lewis falling are now mixing in with frames on Darrel’s motionless body left out in the middle of nowhere, carelessly kicked to the side of a narrow dirt road. Alone. Just like Lewis. Left behind to rot. Who knows if anyone would find him. Did Darrel have a family? Arthur can’t remember. What he does know is that it’s all his fault…and he can’t stop. Arthur needs help. He desperately needs help, but there’s no one. The only people who care are miles away and completely ignorant.

‘Why?’

The question is out before he gets the chance to clarify, his thoughts not coherent enough to manage a full sentence. There must be a reason. A point to everything. Because, if there isn’t, then there is no way that Arthur can convince this creature to stop. To leave his Uncle alone.

“Cause we’re hungry. Duh. Try not to ask dumb questions.” Arthur is dismissed, the demon turning back to order. So far, it has been quiet, exuding a calm satisfaction which is only marginally better than manic joy, ignoring Arthur’s thrashing with practised ease. This is the first time Arthur’s had the presence of mind to communicate since leaving Darrel.

At the order collection window, as the serving-girl hands over a brown and red paper bag, she points to her cheek, commenting, “Um. Sir. You have a little dirt on your face. Just there.”

“Do I?” The demon laughs good-naturedly, adjusting the rear-view mirror to reveal their reflection. Arthur looks out, unable to help himself, meeting his own gaze. Bright green eyes stare right at him. The pleasant smile shifts to become mocking. The ‘dirt’ referred to is the small flecks of Darrel’s blood, which have dried a dark brown.

“I do indeed. How embarrassing,” It chuckles, taking the bag, “Thank you for pointing that out.”

The girl smiles back, “Hey no problem. Have a good afternoon sir.”

If only she would lean further out and see the prominent blood splatter across Arthur’s front. She doesn’t. He watches powerlessly, feeling his body wave a goodbye.  

“Have to say. I love these new food options. You humans have certainly been busy this last century.”

Now. This is Arthur's opportunity to talk. He needs to use it and convince this creature to stop. It probably won’t work, if anything it’ll make everything worse, but he must try.

‘Why,’ Arthur asks a second time, pulling his focus forward.

“Why what,” The demon is deliberately obtuse, taking a bite with its free hand, steering back onto the highway with the other. Arthur would be grimacing at the taste. The last thing he wants to do is to eat greasy food. Luckily, nausea is primary a physical phenomenon, so his need to throw up is entirely associative.

‘Why are you doing this. What’s the point?’  How does he get it to stop?

The demon chews and slurps down a soda methodically like it is buying time to consider a response. More likely, it knows how anxious waiting makes Arthur.

“Because it’s fun. You know...Spread a little pain and misery. Cause trouble. Mess with the cosmic balance. You do know what fun is right?"

‘I can be plenty miserable without Uncle Lance dying.’ Arthur jumps on the connection despite how tenuous it is, ‘You’ve seen my memories! I can make anything good depressing if I want to.’

“Ha. Yeah. You do know how to screw yourself over. But, regrettably, I never leave a host alive. Personal policy. Less hassle down the line and all.”

‘He’ll be no hassle.’ Arthur lies blatantly because there was no way Lance wouldn’t try to hunt them down if given a chance, ‘Nope. No hassle at all. No one would care if I vanished right now. Especially not Lance.’

“I’m in your head, I can see you lying,” An eye roll, followed by unpleasant chuckling, “Besides, nothing beats the rush of cutting one of your pathetic lives short. All that potential. Poof. Gone.” The discordant sensation of happiness is back again, and Arthur quickly withdraws, mentally flinching away, doing his best to distance himself.

‘Someone will stop you.’  

“Who will? The dog? It’s miles away. Won’t be here till tomorrow and by then we’ll be done and dusted. I was thinking of going after Lewis’s family next. Sneak on in, in the dead of night, get em all in their sleep…”

Any further attempts at reasoning fall on deft ears. Begging is just as ineffective. All it does is inflate the awful feeling of calm satisfaction. Apprehensively, Arthur watches the demon wipe the blood off their shared face, energy well and truly spent. A grin is flashed towards the rear-view mirror which has yet to be re-adjusted. Not like this thing cares about road safety. It makes Arthur want to laugh hysterically. But he can’t. He can’t do anything.

Half an hour later, after getting waylaid by some traffic, they’re back at the hospital. All up, it’s hardly been two hours since their departure. They even park in the same spot.

Before heading inside, the demon pulls on one of Arthur’s old work shirts, which he keeps in the van for spur of the moment mechanical work. It’s got a few oil stains down the side and hasn’t seen a good wash in a while, but is inconspicuous when compared to coffee and blood splatters. Now, apart from the eyes, there is no other noticeable difference between the two of them. Nothing that screams ‘I’m a demon on a murder spree, please stop me.’ The sickly green skin Arthur had noted in his memories has faded to a natural colour.

St Peter’s Emergency Ward is as cold and sterile as he remembers. The smell of disinfectant and the return to chilled air-conditioning are equally unwelcome. Nurses, doctors and members of the public mill around, murmuring and talking in low tones. ‘Someone notice! Please,’ Arthur thinks desperately while the demon obtains directions from the reception desk. Despite Arthur’s less than clean appearance no one spares a second glance. Everyone is too busy, caught up in their work and lives, to notice his one falling apart.  

An older, matronly woman, sporting a messy bun and tired eyes, ends up leading Arthur to his Uncle’s recovery room. It’s not too far from the main entrance and is, to his dismay, empty of other patents. Space, meant for a second bed, is vacant.

Arthur, the demon- he’s having trouble separating the two -both watch the nurse check his Uncle’s IV, lowering the dosage of whatever is going into Lance’s arm. Probably a mix of pain medication and anti-inflammatories going off Arthur’s previous experience. Curiosity and interest flash between their shared mind. It is taking notes, intently watching the nurse work. Please. Turn around. Turn around and notice what a creepy monster he’s being.

When she does turn, Arthur has already stepped away, acting to part of the worried relative.

“Is he okay. Everything’s okay, right?”

“Your Uncle is recovering as per normal. He’s on a low dose of Dilaudid, to reduce pain and swelling.  It’ll make him drowsy when he regains consciousness so don’t be alarmed if he has trouble forming sentences,”

“He’ll regain consciousness? That’s good. When will that happen?” Its barely contained eagerness makes Arthur want to cry in dismay.  

“Another hour or two,” The woman gives him a perplexed sideward glance. If she does notice anything strange, it isn’t mentioned. “I’ll have a doctor come by and give you a proper run down and better details shortly.”

“Good. Good. That’s very good. Thank you for letting me know,”

A nod. A kind expression. She moves to away, passing by, leaving Arthur alone. She leaves the demon alone with his Uncle unconscious, helpless in the bed. Eagerly, the demon piolets his body forward, scanning the empty room, eyes landing briefly on the solitary clock decorating the otherwise sparse walls. 4: 59. Tick. Tick. Tick. An audible reminder that Arthur is running out of time. A hand reaches into his pocket to fiddle with Arthur’s keys and the small knife attached. Both are crusted with dry blood which crumbles when touched. They clink together threateningly.

‘What do I have to do to get you to stop. You have to want something. Anything.’

“Sure, I do. It’s just nothing you can give .” Nonchalantly, it approaches the bed, finally acknowledging Arthur's presence.

‘Don’t demons collect souls?’ He asks with increasing desperation. Can he give this thing his soul? Was that something he could do?

“Some. I don’t. I think you’ll find that ‘demon’ is a very broad term, covering a wide range of individuals. Besides, your soul is super screwy. Whatever’s shoved it back in here has bound it in tight, so I’d probably have to rip it up to get it free, rendering the activity pointless. So, no deal…But thanks for the offer. I’m flattered.”

‘Please. Stop. I’ll do anything!’

Does he really have nothing? No way to save his Uncle. The only member of his whole freakin family who gave a damn and he can’t even save him. Useless. Why does he fail in all the ways that matter most?

“Oh, don’t mope. Just think, once we finish up here, you’ll never have to worry about failing anybody ever again. No lying. No stress. Doesn’t that sound nice.”

It doesn’t sound nice. It’s the opposite of nice!

The demon drags over the one visitor's chair, which squeaks along the lino flooring, slumping down to stare at his uncle, waiting. It fingers the IV tubing, tracing the piping up to the control dial and back again. Deliberately, it pinches the thin tube shut, attention jumping back to Lance, scanning for any changes.

Waiting.

The waiting is terrible. Especially, when Arthur can feel its attention, partially giddy, laser-focused onto his Uncle. Arthur’s never seen the man look so pale or sickly. Apart from the odd work-related accident, which is impossible to avoid even with strict safety standards, his Uncle has always been healthy. Even the rare times he has seen the man sick it was still ‘no big deal,’ ‘just a scratch,’ or ‘the bodies way of forcing me ta rest.’ While Arthur flip-flopped from one emotional extreme to the next, his Uncle had been a steady, seemingly indestructible, pillar of support. Arthur had never said thank you for any of that. Worse, he’d repaid all that kindness with lies and evasion. Lance should have never taken him in. He had been more trouble than it was worth in his original timeline and he’s definitely not worth it now.

“Hey. HEY!” The demon grows tired of the waiting and gives his Uncle a light slap on the cheek with its free hand, “Wake up.”

“Arthur?” The word is half muttered, barely audible. Lance is phasing into consciousness slowly.  

‘Just say asleep. Stay asleep a little longer. Someone has to come in and stop him. Please.’

“In a manner of speaking. Yeah. I’m Arthur.”

That gets his Uncle’s attention. Lance violently twitches, forcing an eye open. It locks onto him, hazy but critical. Despite being in obvious pain a hand flashes out, snapping onto to Arthur’s wrist, pulling the hand away from his face. The grip is firm abet weaker than Arthur’s expecting.

“Whoa, you might want to take it easily Uncle Lance. Wouldn’t want to pull any stitches. You were stabbed five times you know.”

“You,” His Uncle growls hatefully, eyes narrowing, “Get out of Arthur ya fuckin, slimy piece of shit, bastard.”

“That’s some strong language. And in front of your nephew. He’s watching you know,”

A loose flick and the demon frees its wrist, efficiently shoving his Uncle back down when he attempts to lunge outwards. The hash action causes Lance to grunt in obvious pain. A move towards the emergency call remote has the demon snatching it up and placing it on the small table just out of reach, tutting in disappointment.

“I’ll get ya. Mark my words…You’ll regret this,” His Uncle spits, his attempts at sitting foiled.  His face is pure revulsion and fury. That determination and fire is something Arthur’s never seen directed his way before. It’s all in vain. Nothing matters. Not anymore.

A teasing, “How? You can’t even move. Soon you’ll never move again.” The demon releases its hold on the IV and turns the control dial up to its max setting. Dismayed, Arthur watches the drug take quick effect, rapidly dulling his Uncle’s movements. Eventually, Lance just lies still and glares, even while his eyes are dropping shut.

“Don’t worry about your nephew. He’ll be safe with me. Since you care so much and all.” The glare faulters much to the demon’s renewed glee. The predatory buzz is back, coiled alongside a sensation of anticipation and pleasure.

“Arthur.” His Uncle’s voice loses its heat, softening. He’s struggling to stay conscience, drowsy, eyes shutting.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please. Stop. Please. PLEASE.’

A knife is produced after a small struggle. The hinge, which usually allowed it to flip cleanly open, is stiff, jammed with blood. The key ring makes a clinking sound, hitting the side of the metal bed frame. Tap. Tap. Tap. It echoes through the room in time with the ticking clock.

“Now. How do we go about this in a way that won’t immediately alert the plebs?”

‘NONONONO!’

“Kindy slow bleed? Good choice.”

“Nighty night,” It stands upright. The chair squeaks. Blankets and paper thin robe are pulled aside in an energetic flourish, revealing the assortment of bandages covering his Uncle’s chest and side. A second is spent in meticulous calculation. The knife is carefully positioned and thrust in. The demon waits for a beat before pushing forward against any resistance, twisting, then drawing out. Cold satisfaction. His Uncle’s fingers catch on Arthur’s retreating arm. This time, there is no strength behind the grasp, and it’s easily shrugged off.

“Not….You…r… Fa..ul…t...” The words are mumbled and slurred, swallowed up by the silent room. The clock on the wall ticks.

“Eh. Suppose we’ll look a bit suspicious if we stick around.”  

The blanket is tossed back into place, covering the reopened wound. They turn, strolling towards the door, practically skipping back down to the reception. Arthur can feel himself splitting, joy mixing in with panic and grief.

Just like his life, he’s falling to pieces. 

NOTE: re-writes, re-writes for days. But finally got a version I’m mostly happy with. I’m hoping to have the next section out within a shorter time frame so people aren't stuck on the cliff hanger but no promises.

Part 26: here

[dank-hp--memes]

Pulling at Heartstrings: Chapter 1

This focuses on Ulana story with Valery. She falls ill and has an all but pleasant encounter with Comrade Charkov... This will be an ongoing story (for now).

-

Tags: @shit-in-silk-stocking

-

-

September 1986

Ulana's apartment, Minsk

-

Ulana is sitting alone in her kitchen, a cup of tea sitting in front of her along with a desolate slice of toast. It had been six weeks since she had last seen Valery in person. She had holed herself up in her apartment, feeling extremely sick almost every day that week, and it was only getting worse. She had returned to Minsk to work and to attempt to understand what exactly happened at Chernobyl. Ulana had assumed that the comfort of her own home may help her concentrate; though, she rarely spends any time at home. Over her week at home, Ulana has hardly eaten, for there is very little food in her house. Even if there was food to be made, Ulana is a hopeless cook. Not that it mattered much, for she had been struggling to keep almost anything she ate down. Anything she did not throw up did not have much sustenance to it. So, she sits in silence, staring at her tea, cautious not to drink too much, fearing it may make her sick.

Overwhelmed with exhaustion, Ulana rests her head on her hand. It had been weeks, maybe even months since she has slept properly. Even before the Chernobyl disaster, she rarely got a good night’s sleep. As of late, she had succumbed to horrible headaches. At least once a day, causing her to need to lay down. Though she often lays down to rest, she still struggles to sleep. Many nights, Ulana is haunted by nightmares, waking after only a few hours in a cold sweat; sometimes, there is no nightmare at all, and she simply jolts awake. When it isn’t her horrible dreams, Ulana is kept awake by her nausea. Some nights, she sits on her bathroom floor wrapped in a blanket, leaning against the wall as she waits for the nausea to pass.

She stirs her tea and sighs. It had not only been six weeks since she had seen Valery, but it had also been six weeks since she had heard from him at all. There had been no phone calls or letters, it almost seemed as though he had forgotten her. Like he had pushed the thought of her aside. Ulana sighs and proceeds to pick apart her cold toast, crumbling up the pieces. It was one of the few things that did not make her feel ill. She sighs and rubs her temples, not knowing what to do.

There is a gentle knock on the door, making Ulana jump. She looks over at her door, wondering if she should answer. There is another knock. Ulana swallows and stands up, slowly walking to the door. Upon opening the door she sees her colleague, Dimitri, standing just outside. A look of relief washes over his face at the sight of her.

“Dimitri…” Ulana says in slight surprise.

“So, you just don’t show up to work for a week. I thought you might have died” Dimitri says, laughing a little as he gives her a gentle hug.

“I-I haven’t been feeling well” Ulana says softly, a bit relieved to see Dimitri.

“I can tell. You look like shit” Dimitri says, chuckling as he steps inside.

Ulana watches as Dimitri looks around her apartment, it is dark and dingy. She has been living on her own for over ten years now, and she is normally never home, leaving her apartment rather messy.

Dimitri walks around, looking at her kitchen first. Her sink is full of dishes, and her kitchen is generally messy. He opens up her refrigerator. It is empty except got a few odd items. He uncaps the milk and smells it, gagging because of the rancid smell.

“Good god, how old is this?” Dimitri says, laughing as he dumps it out.

Ulana sits back down at her kitchen table and shudders, able to smell the expired milk from where she sits. “That’s a good question” She says, chuckling tiredly.

Dimitri shakes his head and smiles as he glances at her. “You’re hopeless” He teases as he begins to shuffle through the few things in her barren pantry.

There is an almost empty container of oats, a small bag of rice, some sugar, and a tin of tea. Dimitri shakes his head and glances at Ulana, wondering how she has survived this long on her own. He straightens up and proceeds into the living room. It is rather dark and dusty. The windows are covered by a set of particularly ugly patterned curtains that Ulana had never gotten around to changing. A few blankets lay bunched up on the couch, and some extremely old newspapers sit on the coffee table along with a pot, containing the remnants of a long dead plant. Dimitri throws open the curtains and suppresses a cough from the thick layer of dust that was disturbed. He thinks to open the window, but decides against it, remembering the radiation reading of eight milliroentgen. After folding the blankets and discarding the dead plant, Dimitri returns to the kitchen. He approaches Ulana and leans against the table. She looks up at him, and the severity of her exhaustion becomes more apparent. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her dark circles are more visible in the light. Ulana’s hair is greasy and tangled, and her grey hairs seeming more apparent. She seems to have aged years in the week she had not been to work.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up, and I will go out and get some groceries. I will make you breakfast” Dimitri says as he leans on the kitchen table.

Ulana looks up at him and shakes her head, smiling a little as she looks back down at her tea. She takes a sip and sighs.

“You are too kind Dimitri. You do not have to cook for me” She says softly, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“You obviously cannot cook for yourself, and you are horrible at asking for help” Dimitri teases, tilting his head as he looks at her.

“You are not wrong” Ulana says, taking another sip of her tea and pausing for a moment, “Fine, you can cook for me, but nothing too fancy Dimitri”

Ulana then gets up and disappears into her room, she grabs the spare key to her apartment and gives it to Dimitri.

“Just holler when you get back” Ulana says as she finishes up her tea.

Dimitri smiles and takes the key as he pulls his coat back on. Ulana watches as he leaves, the smile fading from her lips. A moment passes and she glances at the sink, then at her mug. Slowly, she gets up and places the mug amongst the many overflowing dishes within the sink. She looks down at them, shuddering as she is overcome by nausea. She leans over the sink, her hands gripping the counter, as she uses what little strength remains in her exhausted state to suppress the urge to vomit. She opens her eyes as the nausea passes, sweat glistens on her flushed cheeks. Ulana straightens up, her vision becoming tunneled and blurry. Upon taking a step, she collapses, hitting the side of her head against the table. She falls unconscious, blood gushing from a gash on the side of her head and pooling around her. Ulana fades in and out of consciousness, groaning softly as she feels someone lift her off the ground.

She came too in a room that was not her own, the gash on her head wrapped in bandages. Whitewashed walls surrounded her, and the lights in the room are blinding. Ulana’s eyes wandered around the room, her vision blurry and eyelids heavy. She could see the outline of a figure sitting beside her bed reading a rather large book. For a moment, hope surges through her, maybe it was him.

“Valery?” She mumbles, not truly able to make out who it was.

“Oh, Khomyuk, your finally awake” A voice says, but it is not Valery’s.

It is a voice Ulana does not recognize. The voice is greasy and cold. It sends chills up her spine and makes her hairs stand on end. She groans a little as she attempts properly sits up. She blinks to clear her cloudy vision. An older man with grey-white hair and ashy, wrinkled skin sits beside her bed. He wears thick-rimmed black glasses with dirty lenses that obscure his icy eyes. He slowly grins, showing his slightly yellowing teeth. The sight of his maniacal grin makes her shudder.

“Who are you?” Ulana asks, her voice shaking with fear and confusion.

“Do I not get a thank you? I did save your life after all?” Charkov says, raising the two furry caterpillars he calls eyebrows in surprise.

“How can I thank a man I do not know?” Ulana replies, leaning back against her pillows, unable to hold herself up much longer.

Charkov smiles, finding her amusing. “I am the KGB's first deputy chairman, Charkov” He says, a nefarious grin crossing his lips.

It takes a moment for Ulana to process this information. She sits, staring at him. Her eyes wide, and her lips slightly parted. It is as if her super-computer of a brain cannot comprehend the words that just came from the man’s lips. Ulana shakes her head and looks at him, her eyes burning into him. The sudden cautious and accusing look almost startles Charkov.

“What would you want with me?” Ulana growls, becoming very defensive against Charkov as fear rises within her.

“Oh Khomyuk, the KGB must keep a close eye on the most inquisitive of citizens. And you, my dear, have been caught sticking your nose where it does not belong” Charkov says, giving her a faux-friendly smile.

“But why are you here… Do you not have more important things to do?” Khomyuk whispers, still glaring at Charkov, who is sitting beside her IV/morphine drip.

“Well, I came because I wanted to take a look at your chart myself. So, this has become something of a personal trip…” Charkov says, his greasy voice hanging in the cool air as a sadistic grin crosses his face.

“W-Why would you want to-” Ulana begins, overwhelmed with a sense of confusion and dread.

“Comrade, you and I both know that a seemingly healthy woman does not just suddenly become sick and collapse” Charkov says, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he grabs her chart.

Ulana struggles, trying to get up, but Charkov stops her, turning up her morphine drip. He doubles her morphine dose, turning it up from 3 mg to 6mg every four hours. Ulana lays back after a few moments as the morphine begins to take effect, her body feeling as though it is made of lead. She slowly becomes drowsy, feeling lightheaded as the room begins spinning. She forces herself to stay awake, watching the perverse expressions that cross Charkov,s face as he reads.

“My my Khomyuk, you have been a busy woman” Charkov says, a vicious look crossing his face.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ulana says, gritting her teeth as she glairs at him, her fists clenched around the sheets of the hospital bed.

“Oh, so you didn’t know” Charkov says giving her a look of sadistic joy.

“Well, you shouldn’t be allowed to keep it, assuming he is really the father” Charkov mumbles, more to himself than to her.

“What the hell are you talking about” Ulana growls, his vagueness absolutely infuriating her.

Charkov chuckles a little. It is a cold and vicious chuckle that should not belong to a man. He reaches down and places his hand on the small curve of her stomach, caressing it with his thumb, causing Ulana to shudder.

“I thought you would have realized, comrade Khomyuk. You are pregnant” Charkov says, licking his lips as they curl in a fiendish grin.

Upon hearing this, Ulana’s lips part slightly and she stares at Charkov in horrorstricken awe. She looks down at her stomach for a moment, thinking back to the last time she and Valery had been together. Her heart began to ache as she recalled that blissful night around six weeks ago. It was their last night together before she returned to Minsk. After that, she had not heard from him. Almost as if she were forgotten, like a foggy memory, pushed to the back of one’s mind.

“So, what makes this any of your business?” Ulana says defiantly as Charkov caresses her stomach with his rough hand, making her hair stand on end.

“The love child of a top Soviet scientist is my business comrade” Charkov says, tilting his head slightly as he looks down at her.

Charkov then pauses and runs his hand down her stomach. His hand travels beneath the hospital sheets and down onto Ulana’s soft thigh. He can feel her shivering from his touch.

“Quite the stubborn woman you are Khomyuk” Charkov says with a cold chuckle as his hand slides up her hospital gown.

There is another pause as Charkov traces his finger over her, violating her. Ulana grits her teeth glaring at him with pure rage.

“Of course, we cannot allow you to keep the baby” Charkov says as he places his hand back on Ulana’s stomach, running his thumb along her stomach.

“I believe that is my decision to make” Ulana says, her voice breaking as anger rises in her and tears come to her eyes.

“Oh Khomyuk, you are so naïve” Charkov mumbles, shaking his head.

Slowly, Charkov moves his hand up her stomach. He cups it around her breast as he gives a cynical grin, squeezing her tender breast a little, causing her to flinch.

“I doubt you did not notice how tender your breasts have become…” Charkov whispers, his greasy voice making her shiver.

He places both of his hands upon her breasts and squeezes them, causing Ulana to whimper.

“Stop!” Ulana groans in disgust, trying to pull away, but her body hardly moves. Charkov ignores her pleas and leans down over her, his nails digging into her soft breasts, drawing blood in some places.

“You have been very naughty Khomyuk, I do hope you will learn your lesson” He whispers, as he puts all of his weight on her chest, causing her to gasp for air.

Charkov chuckles a little at the desperate look on Ulana's face. He and shakes his head as he leans back, taking the pressure off her chest. “Get some rest comrade Khomyuk. I have heard that the recovery you will be going through is a long process” he says, his voice icy as he ups her morphine dose once again. He has had his fun with her for the day, now he has real work to do. Ulana watches as Charkov puts her chart back, her vision beginning to fade as he leaves the room. Hardly a few seconds pass after Charkov leaves before Ulana has passed out.

[ashenious]

Some Grand Affairs Amongst the Normality - Chapter 4 of ??? (Dante/Reader)

Overall Story Rating: Mature Overall Story Tags: Alcohol, Big Snake, (Like literally a big snake), Blood, Body Horror, Dead Body Mention, Fluff, Gore Mention, Depressive Thoughts, Drugging, IV Mention, Nausea, Nightmares, Reader is regular boring Human, Reader likes to clean, Reader is also a troublemaker, Slow Burn, Suicide Mention, There was only one bed,

For This Chapter: Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: None Additional: None Word Count: 5772

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7/Part 8/Part 9/ Part 10/Part 11/Part 12/Part 13/Part 14

AO3 Link: Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7/Part 8/Part 9/Part 10/Part 11/Part 12/Part 13/Part 14

25 trash bags.

It took 25 trash bags full of garbage that had to be hauled outside before the store was free of everything. It took 25 trash bags completely full of empty pizza boxes, papers of unknown origin, and magazines that were so full of outdated information, but the floor was finally visible, the shelves were neatly stacked with necessary stuff, and Dante’s desk now only homed his phone, nothing else. Anything else he needed was placed in a drawer somewhere, or on the nearby shelf that hid below the stairs.

It had taken you longer than you thought it would to clean everything, the sun now completely below the horizon and the temperature outside had dropped down to almost freezing, but it was truly a sight to behold. You, however, didn’t get to celebrate too much as about an hour before you had finished cleaning, your head had started to throb, your hangover coming on with anger as you finally sobered up completely.

Instead of celebrating, you laid on the couch, your head resting flat on the cushion while your feet were up in the air being supported by the arm on the other end of the couch, your eyes watching as Dante walked around the shop while looking over each and everything thing on display.

“I didn’t even know I had half of this shit!” he said, picking up a book from the shelf behind the stairs and flipping through it. “Oh, this is from the library…?”

“You’d better put back in its place when you’re done with it.” You muttered, slowly feeling your eyes begin to close despite your best attempts to keep them open. Dante turned around, chuckling a bit at the sight of you laid out pathetically on the couch.

“Hey, you falling asleep there?” He asked, placing the book back on the shelf before making his way over to you, his hand resting on your head gently as he knelt down. “You should probably go home you know. You said you had a roommate, right? Aren’t they wondering where you are?”

“Prob’bly…” you muttered just before you yawned, enjoying the feeling of Dante’s hand on your head as your cheek pressed into the cool cushion below you. “But they’ll just yell at me if I come home now, which is not what I want to deal with right now.”

“I mean, you did disappear for a whole day, I’d be surprised if they didn’t yell at you.” Dante said, slowly sliding his hand off of your head and to your shoulder. You let out a displeased noise at the change of place, your eyes peeping open for a second to see the man before you. “Come on, let’s get you home before you completely fall asleep.” Yawning again, you carefully peeled yourself off of the couch, grabbing onto the back of it for support as you wobbled a bit.

“If I come back in a week, and you’ve gone and ruined this store, I’m going to be mad at you…” you said quietly as you slowly lifted yourself to your feet. Watching as Dante went and retrieved your bag, you slowly made your way to the front door, leaning on the wall next to it as you waited for Dante.

“I make no promises about cleanliness,” he said, opening the door to outside and letting you go first before he stepped out as well.

“Then I’ll be back to clean up again, so you best let me in when I come over…” you muttered, dragging your feet over the pavement as you began to walk home, barely aware of anything around you besides the footsteps to your side that belonged to Dante. He chuckled, mentioning something about having a personal maid as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder while he caught up to you.

The walk home was quiet, the people on the streets slowly putting their businesses away as the day ended, the sound of the nearby river flowing over the area as only a few cars drove down the road to disrupt the peace.

The closer you got to your house, the more tired you felt, your body expended of all energy from the day’s activities and lack of rest. It was just over the bridge, when you were about to round the corner of the gas station did you realize just how exhausted you were, your legs feeling like nothing more than hollow tubes made of horrible glued together pieces of cardboard, as each step you were taking caused you to wobble a bit.

“Almost there,” you heard Dante say nearby, one of his arms coming down and catching you under your arm as you wobbled about. “Here, hold this.” Listening to him, you held out your hands as he handed you your bag, and just as confusion hit you, you felt him slide one of his hands behind your back with the other going behind your knee. It took you a second to realize what he was doing, but you didn’t have the energy to fight right now, despite how much you usually hated to be carried around.

You leaned your head against his chest, sighing at the situation as Dante carried you around the corner, him walking a bit slower than before. Your eyes fell closed, this time you couldn’t fight it as it happened, and as you felt the heat coming off of the man, you focused on his heart beat which was loud and clear to you as it helped lull you deeper into sleep. As you listened, you waited for Dante to ask for your keys as you knew you’d be home very soon.

Instead, you heard a sudden bang on wood just after Dante stopped, and you jumped a bit, surprised that Dante wasn’t just setting you free into your apartment. You heard the door open, your eyes refusing to open now and so you just listened.

It was only when you heard voices speaking, completely unsure of what exactly they were saying, did you realize that your body had already fallen asleep, your consciousness slowly fading despite you trying to fight it for just a little bit longer.

You felt nothing happen after you heard Dante kick your front door, but at some point, you ended up in your bed, the softness under you startling you from its contrast to Dante’s leather jacket. Your hand felt around the area quickly, it running over your bag and a pillow in your search for the answer to what was happening.

Another hand came down onto your own, pressing it gently into the bed before pushing it back toward your body. It lingered for a second as you moved yourself on your bed to get comfortable, only lifting itself off of your hand once you had settled.

You felt like garbage the next day, specifically like garbage that was set on fire by alcohol and left to burn itself out. Opening your eyes was the worst thing you had ever done, as your lids were heavy still and the rush of light into your eyes didn’t help the throbbing pain that was still present in your head.

Throwing off the covers of your bed, you noticed you were still wearing not your own clothes, but rather the borrowed clothes from Dante. As you stood up and stretched out every part of your body, some joints making popping sounds that were way louder than they usually were in the morning, you made sure to note that you’d need to wash and return the clothes soon.

Today wasn’t laundry day though, and you had to get through a few more days of your typical work week before you’d have a day off to do your chores. The only hope you had inside you was that you’d start feeling like a normal person again soon, because the headache you had was horrible and was definitely going to make it difficult to focus on what you needed to do today.

The first day back to typical life was awful, the headache you had remained all day, it was dull but annoying you in every way as you tried to appear like you hadn’t spent a whole day drinking and getting no sleep. The worst part of the day was feeding the animals, as Bagels’ yelling seemed to somehow be more annoying than normal, it causing your head to throb with each screech she let out until you fed her.

What was different, and very welcome, was Alecz not saying anything about the previous night. You had worried that they would be angry that you had been carried in by someone random that late at night, but as they poured themselves a cup of coffee and read a book they were holding, one you hadn’t seen them pick up before, you were glad they let you be. Especially since you were absolutely sure they were going to yell at you for being gone for a whole day without saying anything. You two weren’t close, but it wasn’t very like you to go out, let alone for a whole day, so it would only be normal to worry at least a little bit about someone if that happened suddenly.

Going to work was terrible, the walk there caused you to need to bundle up and keep a hood on your head, hoping to shield your eyes from the sun light that was beating down from above. But as cars passed by and the light shined off of their hoods and mirrors directly into your eyes, you cursed who ever designed cars and how inconsiderate they were toward hungover people.

Work itself was pleasant, your boss greeting you with a quieter than normal ‘Welcome in!’ as you slowly made your way to the back, your hood still on and your face furrowed in anger. You heard your boss laugh once you were out of sight, and a small smile peaked itself on your lips, imagining how terrible you must look right now in contrast to how collected and ready you were on any other day.

You put up your jacket, sighing as you did so as you’d much rather work with the hood on through your shift than have to deal with the bright lights above. Returning to the front of the library, you walked over to your boss who was still chuckling to himself a bit. Meeting his eye, he motioned his head to behind him, your gaze turning to see a cart full of books that needed to be shelved again.

“You want that or front desk?” your boss asked. Thinking on it for a second, walking around the library and using your brain to find where everything went sounded terrible, your head hurting at the idea.

“I’d prefer to stay at the desk,” you said, slowly grabbing the near by chair and climbing onto it, your feet resting on the crate below the desk. “I don’t want to think too much today, I’ll let the computer do that for me.” Hearing another laugh from your boss, you turned and watched him walk off, him grabbing the overly full cart before pushing it from the back area.

Logging into the system and checking yourself in on the schedule, you grabbed the file of reservations that sat near you, flipping through it to see the amount of books that would need to be pulled today. You noticed how few were in the file, noting that many of them were marked off by your boss. Closing the file, you smiled, now eternally grateful that your boss understood how terrible you felt today.

Hearing the door open, your head snapped up, catching sight of someone entering the library who looked a bit lost. Placing the file back in its home, you greeted them gently, waving at them a bit to get their attention.

As the person came over, you tried your best to ignore the headache that was plaguing you, it throbbing in the back off your head as the person asked where they could find a specific book. They talked about the research they were doing for their upcoming semester of class, and as they rambled on to you, you began to pull out the small filing box that told you the call number. Shuffling through the series of organization, you pulled out a card slowly, nothing the number on it before standing up, slowly making your way around the desk and motioning for the person to follow you.

Making your way upstairs, you scouted out the isle you needed to go to, turning down it and slowly following the call numbers on the sides of the shelves until you found the one you needed. Making sure the person was still behind you, you started to head down the aisle, your hand slowly sliding over the books on the shelves while you read the call numbers of the books. Finding your target, you pulled the book down from the top shelf, turning toward the person behind you.

“Was this the only book you needed? Oh, do you need to get a library card?” you asked as you handed them the book.

“I have one, I just don’t come here a lot,” the person said as they took the book from you, slowly flipping it open and paging through it. “I was going to keep looking around though. Thank you for your help.” Smiling a bit, the person turned around and made their way to another aisle, and as you watched them round the corner, you sighed silently, your head driving you mad.

Slowly stepping out of the aisle, you made your way to the stairs, slowly padding down it as you tried to keep the least amount of light out of your eyes. Stepping onto the first floor, you turned toward the front desk, your eyes jumping up when they saw a hint of red that wasn’t there before.

“Morning!” came a cheerful voice that was wearing the red. Rolling your eyes and waving a bit, you made your way around the desk, your eyes never leaving the man who had one hand placed on the top of it as he learned over it.

“Hey, mornin’,” you replied as you slowly slid up onto your chair. Turning and setting your feet on top of the under-desk crate, you pulled your reservations file out of its place again. “What brings you in, Dante?”

“Just making sure you didn’t slip into a coma last night.” Dante said, a grin plastered on his face. “Oh, brought you this too.” Watching as Dante’s other hand came up into view behind the desk, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a small coffee in his hand. “Thought you might need it. Based on how much you hated some of the drinks I gave you, I got a one with a shit-load of sugar in it.”

“You’re sweet,” you said, your hand slowly grabbing onto the cup and brining it toward you. “I don’t usually drink coffee, but today is definitely an exception.” Bringing the cup up and smelling the aroma coming from it, you sighed happily before slowly taking a sip. It was amazingly sweet, tasting like it was almost exclusively creamer, but you could tell there was a touch of coffee somewhere in it.

Placing the cup on a coaster that was nearby, you turned back to Dante, you flushing a bit as you caught sight of him just watching you. Your eyes looked over his face for a second before they snapped down to file in front of you.

“D-Did you just come to see my work and me or?” you sputtered out, your hand slowly pulling one page out of the file. Dropping the paper on the desk, you quickly reached for the fallen page, only to slide your finger against a page in the file still, causing a cut to appear. Cursing at the pain, your dropped the file off to the side dramatically as your brought your hand up to mouth.

“Yeah, basically,” replied the man, a small chuckle leaving him as he watched you place your finger in your mouth. Opening the drawer near you, you couldn’t help but smile a bit as you pulled out the first aid kit, placed it down in front of you and flipped open the lid. Crinkling your face at the lack of band aids inside, you remembered that you used the last one the week before and forgot to tell your boss about it. “I did have something to ask though.”

“What’s up?” sliding the first aid kid back into its place, you slowly closed the drawer, your cut finger hanging in front of you as you looked around for a napkin.

“What day should I expect you?”

“…huh?” pausing your search, your eyes turned back to Dante, your eyebrow raised a bit at the question.

“Last night, you said something along the lines of coming back in a week to clean,” Dante explained as he slowly lifted himself off of the desk. Furrowing your brow, you let your eyes fall down to the side for a second, your mind running through the events of the previous evening. It was a bit hard to remember, you were so tired that your memory was a bit patchy in places.

“Did I?” you asked turning back to face Dante. Seeing the nod from the man, you hummed lightly. “I don’t remember saying that…I don’t even remember getting home…” you admitted.

“Oh, that’s cause you fell asleep while I was carrying you.”

“While you were what?” Feeling your entire face turn red, you stared at the man who had a smirk on his face for a moment. Trying to sputter something out at him, you quickly turned your eyes away and tried to find a napkin again as you remembered your finger was still bleeding a bit

“Yeah, it was no big deal though. Your roommate showed me in, and I did enjoy your pets showing me where your room was. I’m surprised you still need stuff animals in your bed at you’re a—”

“Oh, look at the time! I’ve got so much work to do!!” you said quickly and a little too loudly. Pulling the file up and the paper you dropped before from the table, you felt your entire being turn red, and your face furrowed up as you buried your head behind the open file. Hearing a small laugh on the other side of the desk, you peaked over the paper for a second, your eyes catching sight of Dante trying to contain a louder laugh. “I-I’ll be there Thursday, how about that?” you whispered, refusing to move the file down more.

“Sounds good, I’ll try not to destroy the place in the meantime,” Dante replied, his laughing slowly dying down as he caught sight of an older woman glaring at him nearby. Staring at the woman for a second, his eyes turned back to you, a small still on his face. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, Thursday…” you replied, your one hand opening up for a second to wave at the man. Watching the man turn and give you a backhanded wave, you waited for him to exit the building before you laid your head and elbows down on the desk, the file before you now becoming a cover as you placed it on your head to try to hide from the world.

Hearing some snickering nearby, you shot up and slammed down the file onto the desk, your eyes turning and glaring at the figure of your boss behind a bookshelf, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to contain a deep laughter that he wanted to release.

Glaring harder at the sight, you mouthed at him ‘I will end you’, your finger coming up to try to point at him menacingly, as his face turned red as he tried harder to not laugh out more. Seeing the blood now smeared on your finger, you snapped back to the file your other hand held, it now covered in patches of blood spots and smears all over. You groaned a bit and turned to the side as you opened another drawer in hopes of finding something to put over the cut until it stopped bleeding.

The remainder of your shift was normal, people coming and going as they found what they needed amongst all the walls of books, and as the day went on, so too did your headache slowly go as well, its throbbing slowly becoming nothing more than a pain only when the light was a little too bright in your eyes.

As you locked up the door for the library, your jacket held over your arm as you double checked that you had successfully won the battle with the finicky lock, you thought about how amazing it would be to sleep soon. You had been feeling tired all day, your hangover making you more tired than normal, and you had been imagining climbing into bed to sleep since the halfway mark of your shift. Thankfully your bed was less than 15 minutes away from being a reality.

Crossing the bridge as you neared your home, you paused a moment as you caught sight of the alleyway you normally went down to get home. Feeling a lingering fear inside you, you gulped, your legs slowly taking you to the corner of the alley.

            Pressing your back against the wall, you clenched your jacket tightly as you slowly leaned your head around to peak down the alley, your eyes wide as you did so. You frantically looked over every part of the alley you could see in the darkness, the outlines of the trashcans and one dumpster very obvious in the dark.

            Seeing nothing move, you waited a few more seconds before standing up straight and taking one step into the alley. Stopping as soon as your foot hit the ground, you stared down the alley, still seeing nothing moving but still you did not move.

            “…Yeah, fuck this.” Taking off from your spot, you raced down the corridor, your fists holding onto your jacket as you did so. You passed by the trash cans and dumpster, barely registering anything else in the darkness that wasn’t immediately obvious. Even as you passed the spot where you remember the large snake being, you saw nothing that resembled blood or body in the unlit area.

You reached the end in record time, you stopping once you were out of the tight space and hunching over with your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath with your eyes peering down the alley as you did so. It was both odd and a delight to you that nothing remained in the aisle from that night, and as you thought about what could have happened after you slept, you thought about asking Dante what he did that day the next time you saw him.

Heading inside your apartment, you were surprised to see lights on, the entire place usually unlit except for 1 light in your room when you returned. Confused, you slowly walked to the living area where most of the lights were on, your eyebrow rising as you spotted Alecz awake and reading a book.

“Hey,” they said, head not turning as they acknowledged you.

“Good…Evening?” you said, voice full of obvious confusion. “You’re not normally awake now, is something wrong?” you asked, concern now in your voice. Watching as Alecz didn’t move, you waited, aware that they were probably in the middle of a paragraph. Slowly sliding your jacket over the arm chair that was nearby, you sat yourself down in the chair, your face scrunched as you continued to wait.

“Not…really.” Came Alecz suddenly as they slid their bookmark into their book before they closed it. “I just had a question for you. Kind of about last night?”

“Oh dear, okay,” you replied as you slowly brought your legs up and crossed them on your chair. “I don’t remember coming home though, so…”

“I was just going to ask about…who brought you home.” Alecz said, their eyes looking at the floor as they talked, their hands holding their closed book between their legs.

“Oh, Dante?” you asked, your head cocking a bit as you watched your roommate.

“Yeah…him. Er…” watching as Alecz’ hand went behind their head and they rubbed the back of their neck, a minute passed before they spoke again. “Is there… anyway to, I guess…not bring him here again?” they asked finally.

Pausing as Alecz looked up to you, you met their eyes, yours blinking a couple of times as they watched you. They were nervous, it was obvious, and it was something you weren’t used to as Alecz was usually calm and collected in every situation, even in a situation where something was on fire in the middle of the night because you had forgotten that your leftovers’ box had a fork in it.

You had only known them for a relatively short amount of time, having only met them through a coworker a few months after you moved to the area. You were looking for a new place to stay, your old apartment being torn down and turned into a shopping center, something that you were very verbally upset about at work. It was a sudden notice, with your building being bought and planned to be destroyed within 2 months of the purchase date.

A coworker had heard you complaining to your boss one day, and as your boss tried to calm you down for probably close to the hundredth time, they had approached you, asking you about your moving plans. It was embarrassing, but you admitted you had been too upset to figure out what to do yet, your schedule busy and hectic with having to pack and leave much sooner than you wanted to.

“You don’t have a plan? You said you had to be out in less than a month!” your boss said, his face a bit shocked.

“Yeah, well, I only just unpacked a few months ago, I wasn’t planning on packing again and it’s been a pain!” you said, your voice full of displeasure at the situation. That was when your coworker told you about Alecz, a friend of theirs that was looking for a roommate. Your eyes lit up, you quickly asking them numerous questions about cost and when you could move in.

Less than a week later, you found yourself at your new apartment, 3 bags on your shoulder and 1 box in your hands as your new roommate let you in the door. The apartment looked very plain, there wasn’t a lot of furniture around nor decorations on the wall, which was fine to you. You had commented on it originally, but Alecz didn’t really say much about the décor and just shrugged before they lead you to the bedroom that was going to be yours.

There wasn’t anything in your room besides a desk, one that looked way too heavy for you to carry by yourself. Setting your stuff down, you looked over the room, taking in all the bareness of the walls and emptiness of the space. It wouldn’t be empty for long as your own furniture was going to be delivered soon, stuff that you had bought for your old apartment that you weren’t going to just throw away after a few months of use.

Turning around to ask your new housemate about unpacking, you noticed that they had disappeared from the hallway, your eyebrow raising a bit when you peeked into the hallway to find them. They had left the hall after you entered your room and returned to the living room, a book in hand and a coffee nearby with them sitting in a rather uncomfortable position that you would later call their ‘natural position’.

Trying not to disturb them too much, you had asked if it was alright to have a few boxes around the house for a bit, you worrying that you wouldn’t be able to unpack everything neatly in your room that day. They said it wouldn’t be a problem, and that they expected a bit of mess with you moving in.

It only took a week for you to unpack everything, all the boxes of stuff you had brought with you finally empty and broken down by the front door as you filled the house with decorations. Alecz was terribly confused at the sudden appearance of so many new things, and as they went over all the little things, they asked a lot of questions about the origin of them.

You were more than okay to go over all your things, happily explaining to them where you got each and every single thing, but sometimes you did think it was a little odd that Alecz didn’t know anything about seemingly commonly known figures. Chalking it up to Alecz maybe not being from around here, or possibly earth in general with how lackluster their knowledge was, you decided to not bring it up with them.

The first week in your new apartment was quiet, with you and Alecz having very different schedules. They were often asleep by 8 pm, something you thought was very particular, and they would often wake up right as the sun rose.

You weren’t entirely sure what they did for a living, as they didn’t really talk about themselves a lot, but you often noticed that they just sat in their natural position for long periods of time through the day.

The living situation worked out well, because although Alecz wasn’t a terribly talkative person, they were happy to listen to you as you rambled on about nothing most days. And it made you glad that there was someone who was always home, it easing your fear of getting locked out of your apartment and then having no where to go again.

There was one thing you had noticed not long after you moved in, however. As the weeks went on, you found yourself still feeling odd toward Alecz, a feeling in your body not leaving despite how comfortable you felt around them. It bothered you, the feeling not leaving despite you being able to be open and talk to them about basically anything that came to your mind and left through your mouth.

And it was as you sat there, with your legs crossed in front of you and your head tilted to the side, that you realized something important about Alecz, and exactly why they were asking you not to bring Dante around anymore.

“Oh. Oh! Oh, oh, oh!! Oh, I didn’t even thi—I totally didn—Holy shit!” you exclaimed, your hands coming up quickly, smacking into your face to cover it. Alecz looked at you, confusion heavy in their face as you watched you. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t even piece 2 and 2 together, I’m so dumb!”

“I, uh…I’m a bit lost,” they said, their face furrowed heavily as you brought your hands down to your lap.

“You don’t want Dante coming here cause of who he is, right?” you asked, your fingers tapping on your ankles as you spoke. “Cause he’s…cause his job, right?”

“Wait…do you know about…?” As Alecz spoke, apprehension spread over their face, their body tensing up. “How long have you known?”

“I literally just figured it out,” you explained. “Like, literally as I was sitting here, right now.” Pointing down to the spot where you were sitting, you watched as a bit of the concern left Alecz’ face, though their eyebrows were still furrowed. “But, yeah! I promise I won’t bring him around here anymore!”

“…Okay. Thank you.” Alecz about whispered, their hand slowly sliding over the cover of their book as they looked around the room. “I had no idea that you knew about…”

“…about demons?” you said, finishing their sentence. Watching them nod a bit, you smiled lightly and clapped your hands together. “I just learned about them recently, and I find it all very fascinating!”

“Fascinating?” hearing the word, Alecz looked up to you, their eyebrows raising as they looked over you.

“Yeah! Dante has told me a lot about demons in his shop, like the ones he’s worked with on jobs, and the big scary ones that have tried to take over the world; I had no idea about any of it!” you explained, slowly clasping your hands together. “He told me about how demons have 2 forms, and though I’ve only seen 2, him included, and the other was ugly as can be, that second form always seems to look at least a bit cool! I’m kind of curious about what you might look like, I bet your other form is really awesome!” you rambled on, Alecz’ face slowly changing into a softer expression as you went on about demons and what you had learned from Dante.

You could feel the tension leave the room as you spoke, all your words being heard by your house mate as you continued on for a while. It was only when the living room clock chimed at midnight that you realized how long you had been talking, your face flushing in embarrassment at your rambling, and so you apologized to Alecz as you rubbed your thumb over your other.

But Alecz said they didn’t mind, a small smile on their face as they raised to their feet and thanked you. You were confused, unsure of why they were thanking you for not bringing a Demon Hunter home where your roommate is a demon, something you thought should have been common sense for you but apparently had to be spelt out.

You watched as Alecz went to their room, their door slowly closing as they disappeared. Sitting for a minute by yourself, you stared at the clock, the second hand slowly ticking its way around to the 12 to repeat its path again. It was already tomorrow, you realized, a small smile on your face as you stood up to go to bed.

Making your way into your room, Bagels yelled at you as you turned on the light and you thought about how there was one less day now between you and the day you were going to visit Devil May Cry again, a thought that made you very happy to think about as you got yourself ready for bed.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Matching Crazy: Part 4

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2,656

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey (Y/N).” One of the Sanctuary’s regulars, Mark said as you and Regina stood behind the bar on a slow Wednesday night. “How come you never make drinks?” You glanced over him as you restocked the back wall of liquor bottles from the stock in the back so you could be ready for the new shipment of inventory due to arrive in the morning.

“Because I don’t.” You giggled. “I haven’t been a bartender in like three years.”

“Oh, come on.” Another regular, Scott, said as he swirled his scotch on the rocks around his glass. “All bartenders have some kinda trick up their sleeve. Let’s see it.” You smirked as you looked over at the pair of gentlemen before continuing your gaze up to your co-worker.

“Hey, I showed them the bottle tossing.” She said as she added two more bottles to her side of the bar. “It’s your turn to entertain them until Dean gets ‘off work’.” You sighed as you looked at the bottle of blue Hpnotiq in your hands.

“Alright fine.” The two guys cheered and toasted their drinks as you put away the two bottles in your hands and turned toward the bar. “Now, it’s been years since I’ve done this, y’all so bear with me.” Regina smirked and shook her head as she continued to work while you set up seven shot glasses and a silver tumbler on the bar. You poured ingredients slowly, being careful not to get the first layer of grenadine on the sides of the glass and making sure that the pineapple juice was poured on a big spoon over ice.

“Alright, here we go.” You said as you topped it off with an ounce of vodka and a bit of slowly poured blue Curaçao. You grabbed a strainer and poured the layered drink out, creating a halfway decent rainbow of shots. The guys cheered loudly, as if it were the coolest thing they had ever seen and after a moment, you gathered all the shots to pour back into the tumbler to toss out.

“Y’all need to find a better form of entertainment.” You laughed as you dumped the drink down the drain and stepped over to the register to comp the contents out. You had barely tapped the screen when a shot rang out in the bar, echoing through your mind like a haunted scream. Your right shoulder lurched forward from the impact of a bullet going through your shoulder, and your head hit the edge of a close hanging shelf, violently.

“Get down!” Regina screamed as the bar filled with automatic fire, shattering the bottles on the wall and causing glass and liquor to rain down onto the bar floor. She scrambled across the floor, and tackled you to the ground so you wouldn’t be shot again as flash backs began to strangle your consciousness.

“No.” You said with a shake of your head as you held on to your shoulder. Blood pooled in your fingers as the gunshots finally stopped, but the sound of screeching tires was lost to you.

“You guys OK?” Regina called out as she grabbed a bar towel and pressed it on your shaking shoulder.

“Scott’s hit.” Mark choked out. “I think… I think he’s dead.”

“OK, (Y/N). I need you to hold this.”

“I have to go.” You said as you tried to scramble across the wood, cutting your hands on the shards of glass.

“Marine!” She shouted as she sat up just long enough to grab the bar phone. “Stay there!” You shook your head frantically, but stopped moving as Regina called Negan as fast as she could.

“Gi…” You breathed as you squished the blood drenched towel to your shoulder. “I don’t…”

“Hang in there, (Y/N).” She said through her teeth as she tried to clear a path between where she was, and where you had crawled to.

“Negan…” You gasped as your vision started to fade from blood loss. You very faintly heard him say your name before you slipped into the worst nightmare you had ever had.

——

You were trapped in the middle of hell, slipping in and out of consciousness. Every noise was a threat, calling ghosts from your past forward in your mind. Battle after battle repeated itself, no matter how many drugs the hospital gave you, and when the night terrors got to the point where you tried to rip out your IV, you had to be restrained for your own safety. Which made matters impossibly worse.

“We’re gunna have to sedate her.” You heard a doctor say as you sobbed and stared at a small, middle eastern boy holding a grenade in one had and the pin in the other through your tears.

“I want Negan!” You screamed at all four people in the room as you slowly worked your other hand free of the restraint where you wouldn’t be caught.

“OK that’s not…” Your nurse said with a shake of her head.

“Then get out!” You screamed. “Leave me alone! All of you!”

“Let’s just come back.” The nurses aid said as he took a step back toward the door. “I’ve seen PTSD like this before…”

“She’s gunna hurt herself.” The doctor tried.

“No she won’t.” The aid said as he pulled open your room door. “She’s just scared. Let her breathe for a minute. She’s had people surrounding her for the past twenty hours straight. Just give her space.” The doctor and the nurse both nodded and took a step back out of the room, leaving you alone with the figment of your imagination.

“Fuck this shit.” You said as you sat up the moment the door latched behind them. “Fuck all this.” You scrambled to take off the ankle restraints while keeping an eye on the little boy in the room, despite the fact that there was a small part of you that knew he wasn’t really there. You waited until the very last minute to pull off the heart rate monitors as you removed IV’s and downed the big glass of water on your side table before grabbing your bag of belongings, and bolting out of the second story window onto the roof of the neighboring parking garage.

——

“Where the fucking fuck is she?” Negan roared at the woman working at the front desk of the hospital only a couple hours after you bolted.

“Sir, please.” The woman said, completely terrified of the biker screaming in her face. “We don’t know. She ran…”

“She was fucking shot! And I know she was probably freaking the fuck out because I know my fucking girl!” He shouted as he pointed forcefully at her. “You should have fucking sedated her!”

“Sir, please.” She tried again.

“Sir, I’m gunna have to ask you to leave, now.” The security officer said as he daringly stepped up to Negan’s side. The biker rounded on him with a death glare.

“You better fucking hope I find my girl or all of you are in for a world of fucking hurt.” He turned quickly, and stormed out the doors past the rest of the club. “I want fucking everyone out looking for her! You don’t fucking eat, you don’t fucking sleep, you don’t even take a fucking piss until you fucking bring my girl home. She’s fucking scared and probably freaking the fuck out. Just fucking find her!” He brought his bike roaring to life and put your helmet on the seat between his thighs so it wouldn’t get lost before taking off like a bat outta hell to find his girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frozen. You were absolutely, straight through your bones, teeth rattlingly frozen, and hiding in the tube in a children’s playground. You knew you had to be close to the clubhouse but you couldn’t remember how to get there. Fear of going back to the hospital kept you from asking for help. Your whole body ached as you curled into yourself in only a pair of ripped jeans, a dry blood covered, low cut t-shirt that had a bullet hole in the shoulder, and a thin hospital gown as a blanket. 

‘You’re safe.’ You reminded yourself for the millionth time in three days as you slowly wrapped the tie of the gown around your pointer finger. ‘Safe and stateside. Negan will find you soon. Stay where you are.’ Your stomach grumbled weakly, a sound you were used to from being on the streets as long as you had been. There was nothing you could do about it, your wallet was sitting on your dresser at home.

“Hey lady.” A child’s voice said above your head as a little boy stuck his head in your hiding hole. “You OK?”

“I’m safe!” You practically screamed at him, startling him to tears. He started to sob, and ran to find his mommy as you curled up even more to hide from the gust of wind that blew through the small holes that were spaced out along the tube. You didn’t hear the mother of the little boy calling the cops about the strange, bloody woman in the park but the sound of sirens sent your hair on end.

“No.” You said with a shake of your head as you watched the flashing red and blues through the hole in front of your chest. You forced yourself to uncurl and pushed yourself past the small jolt of pain that was almost instantly numbed away in the chill to get out of the tunnel to hide. Your body ached as you carefully walked down the steps and ran as fast as you could toward the tree line surrounding the park. 

‘I won’t go back.’ You thought as you jumped up the nearest tree and started to climb away from the cops that were scrambling to get to you. ‘I won’t.’

——

Negan didn’t care that he was on the highway, he simply pulled off the road the moment he felt his phone ring in his pocket.

‘Be her.’ He growled in his head as he scrambled to get his cell from his pocket while he was still moving to the side of the road. ‘Be her, fucking be her.’

“Yea?” He snapped as he skid to a stop.

“Negan?” A man said on the other end. “Deputy Eugene Porter. I wanted to let you know a call came in just now about a woman matching (Y/N)’s…”

“Where?!” Negan roared, wishing the officer would get to the point faster.

“She’s hiding in a tube on the playground on the north side of Huntley Meadows…” Negan didn’t wait to hear the rest of the guys statement and hung up the phone to get to you before the cops could get to you first.

‘You were so fucking close baby girl.’ He thought as he pulled into traffic without looking or caring. ‘I really need to teach you this fucking town.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“G-g-go awayyy!” You screamed at the officers below you as you continued to move so they wouldn’t shoot you out of the tree (not that they would but you were sleep deprived, freezing cold, and not thinking straight.) “H-h-he’ll come for m-m-me.”

“(Y/N), get out of the tree!” Rick sighed into a megaphone like a broken record. You shook your head against the bark, further aggravating the stitches on your forehead from hitting the shelf. 

“No! I w-w-won’t go b-b-b-back! I w-want…” You stopped mid-sentence and your head whipped to the side as the distant rumble of a motorcycle on your right caught your attention. “Negan.” Without thinking about the consequences, you jumped to the tree beside you, catching the trunk at the last second, and sending pain jolting through your body. You wasted no time to recover from the shock of the impact, and jumped again.

Tree after tree, you made your way toward the parking lot, as the rumble of Negan’s bike got louder. You managed to lose your police detail in the branches, and made it to the edge as he pulled into the parking spot on the opposite end of the lot than the cop cars. You jumped out of the tree and fell to the ground as Negan threw his helmet back toward his bike and ran toward you.

“Fucking finally.” He breathed as he pulled you up to your feet and wrapped you protectively in his arms. “Thank fuck, you’re OK. I’m here. Right fucking here.” You started to sob as you hid your face in the warmth of his chest, and tried to control your shivering unsuccessfully.

“Y-you found m-me.” You chattered while trying to leach his warmth.

“Fuck, you’re like a damn ice cube.” He said as he yanked off his leather jacket, and wrapped it around your body. He rubbed your back furiously and glanced up at Rick and the other officers.

“Negan…” The deputy said with a shake of his head. “We need to take her.”

“The fuck you do!” Negan shouted as he turned his body so you were farther away from him. “What the fuck do you think you’re fucking playing at, huh? First you take her to the wrong fucking hospital after my fucking employee specifically told you where to take her. You didn’t fucking call me when I know for a fucking fact you know who she is to me. Then, I’m guessing she was put on just fucking painkillers and they obviously didn’t fucking sedate her immediately, which would have been the fucking smart treatment for someone with severe PTSD who had just been fucking shot! Which would have been fucking done if you fucking tools had taken her to the right fucking hospital!” He shook his head as he continued to rub your back while you hid your frozen ears against his chest. 

“You even fucking think I’m letting you fucking take her fucking anywhere, and you got another fucking thing coming! I fucking got her from here.” He kissed the top of your head and shook his as he turned to lead you back to the parking lot where one of the club prospects was finally pulling in with the club’s van to take you home. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you home.”

“C-c-c…”

“I know, sweetheart.” Negan said before you could finish as he guided you to the front seat. “We have blankets, and we’ll get you in a hot shower at home.” You nodded as he pulled open the passenger door, and helped you into the van. “Then, once you’re warm, we’ll call the damn doc to come patch you up again, OK?” You nodded and curled up on the seat as Negan buckled you in and started to wrap you in blankets. You tried to move to give him back his jacket but he caught your hands and shook his head. “You need it, baby. I’m OK.” You nodded as he gave you a tight lipped smile and zipped up the jacket before continuing to put the blankets around your body.

“I knew you’d come.” You whispered as you searched his eyes.

“Of course I came for my girl.” He said as he brushed your hair back behind your ear. He gave you a chaste kiss and looked over at the prospect. “Straight to the fucking club. You don’t fucking stop for shit. I don’t give a fuck if you have ten cops on your ass with lights and sirens, you get her back to the fucking club before you stop, you fucking hear me?” The prospect nodded and buckled his seatbelt as Negan shut the passenger door with one more glance at you. You met Rick’s eyes through the windshield and very slowly flipped him off as the van was backed out of the parking spot and left the park to go home.