#this is the high I was always chasing when I had my medical card but somehow could hardly ever achieve

[miaobae]

As I was cleaning my room today I found some unused sativa tincture. I decided to take some after work and wow. It's like an old friend I didn't even realized I missed has come back.. except that friend is just me. The way I act when I'm high. Because it helps to relax me when I didn't even realize I was tense. Because I smile so much more easily. Because life doesn't seem quite so drab. And I didn't even realize I had stopped being that person until I was able to start being her again. So, wow.

[lightdragon789]

Other inserts backstory/facts Pt 9

Eva Morris

Almost at the end, I’m gonna miss doing this but I’ll be happy to get this done.

Rebel spy is honestly very fun and I really like the dynamic with Naveed. He’s a goofy guy who doesn’t know pig grow hair. (I will forever hold this over his head lol) but let’s dive into my listener for this series, Eva!

(TW: topic of sexual harassment)

Backstory:

Much of 2772's history is unknown. The only thing she knows is that her parents are nowhere to be found on the ship. Considered to be MIA.

Eva grew up with her uncle who was a high rank on Valeazean and thus gave Eva some privileges. Such as reading old books from earth and being able to go with her uncle to meet the council. But it also gave her high expectations not only because of her uncle but because she wanted to make her missing parents proud.

She was put into training in communication and investigation as her start up occupations. She did well in her work and was raised up to a level 5 cadet. Especially when she also applied to work in navigation. She was very trusting to others who were friendly to her. Always having fun and taking their work seriously.

This came to bite her as she (around 19 at this point) was walking with a senior cadet. They were just chatting with their friend before they went to their rooms. He walked her to her room and kept making sly and flirtatious remarks to Eva. Which was making her uncomfortable and she tried to excuse herself and walk away. However, he grabbed her and pinned her to the wall. Holding a blade to her throat that if she dared to scream or fight back. He would slit her throat and then started feeling her up.

It made her feel disgusted and she pushed and punched him in the face. Also causing him to slash the side of her neck. She took her chance and started running as he raised his blade and faked chased her. Eva went back into her room and locked herself, holding her bleeding neck. She didn’t have a lot of medical supplies but she managed to patch herself up. Afterwards she just cried into her pillow until she fell asleep.

She was awoken by banging at her door and she put on her jacket to cover her neck. Feeling ashamed of her wound and not wanting to be shown with bare skin. It was her uncle and he lightly scolded her for attacking the senior officer unprompted and would be issued a penalty. Unless she had a convincing counter, which she said she didn’t. She was emotional drained and didn’t want to talk about what happened.

It took her a few months to get over the encounter and while she performed her tasks. She was very withdrawn and not as social as before, being more cautious of everyone and even to older officers. But she decided to toughen herself out, so that no one touches her again.

As years go on, she kept herself busy in the training room. Strengthening her body and gaining muscles. Teaching herself self defense and some offense combat. Also entering in interrogation, as she was surprisingly well at making people confess. It helped strengthen her resolve in being tough and more so in her confidence. She stayed a level 6 cadet and would have been a level 7-8 if it wasn’t for her penalty.

Things only got more frustrating, as Eva tried to ask about her parents. Asking if they were on the ship, if they were dead and other things. Most of which, her uncle dismissed or gaslit her with random details. She grew more distrusting of him and soon went to get answers herself. As going to sector B to look through her files didn’t give her answers, nothing mentioning her parents. Eva had a feeling there was more to it. She went into her uncle’s corridors armed with a flash drive and with her uncle’s id card. Eva wasn’t skilled at hacking so she borrowed his card in the lie that she wanted to read some old earth books.

She snuck in and got to work on his system. She once the flash drive was in, it would give warning that someone was going into the system. So once she found her files (as well as some locked files) she managed to compile them and plugged the flash drive in to download them. It took a while and she knew a warning would be sent to her uncle that someone was looking into the files on his computer.

She managed to get it all downloaded, unplug it and stash it in her pocket before her uncle and two officers came in. Eva managed to just make it look like she was looking at secret ship system blue prints. Her uncle scolded her harshly for this as those blueprints weren’t even approved yet. Calling her a problem solider, issuing her another penalty and demoting her back to a level 4 cadet.

She tried to explain herself but he didn’t hear it, stating she should be lucky their family as he would throw her into space if she was a rando. She was shaken by this and once again accepted the punishment. She went back to her room and stores the drive in a safe place, as she needed to get someone skilled in hacking in order to see her files.

She gained a new coat after being demoted and Eva still kept her distance. Not trusting her uncle or anyone on Valeazean for that matter. The only person who still remained a good friend to her was Trinity. As she made the effort to talk and help Eva when she got demoted and was getting more snappy with people she worked with. She let Eva vent to her about her problems with everyone and asks if she was bad due to her distrust of the council runs things and their twisted philosophies.

She assures her she wasn’t but warns her to be careful. As she heard rumors of a rebel group forming and she wanted Eva to be careful in case they tried to recruit her. Seeing her attitude and distrust to everyone might make them think she’s a worthy recruit. Eva assured Trinity she wouldn’t get herself killed by joining “a small group of rule breakers.” However, Eva was intrigued hearing about a rebel group and questioned if Trinity let that slip or if it really was a warning.

She stayed in the dark about it but was trying to learn more about this rebel group. It wasn’t until someone affiliated with the group took an interest in Eva and gave her info on a recruitment meeting happening soon. They hope she can make it, as her close connections to her uncle and by extension the council, could be of use. Eva was skeptical about it but remembering how shady and distrusting the council (and by extension her uncle) was to her. She decided this was worth risking and went to the recruitment meeting.

However, she didn’t expect the weekly maintenance check to be happening the day of the meeting. It was being investigated and Eva quickly ran away in fear of getting caught. She decided to run to sector C server rooms, as no one goes down there often and only send bots when the systems are being hacked. Thinking no one would be down there, she used an access code her uncle gave her to access semi-important rooms a long time ago. She managed to get in and thought she had a chance to breathe.

But luck wasn’t on her side that day… or was it?

Facts time!

Eva is 27, 5’3 and is Aroace and goes by she/her pronouns.

Thanks to her uncle, she had privileges that not many others have. Such as access to old earth books. Her favorites being books on trees as she loves ones like willow tree.

She hates sudden loud noises as it causes her to freak out and cower.

Eva although doesn’t let her guard and always acts tough. She doesn’t like it and sometimes wishes she could go back to being the carefree person she once was.

She doesn’t like psychical contact and will shove someone off her or hit them if they dare to grab/attack her.

She will tolerate it, if it’s a dire situation (aka most of rebel spy lol) but she will be a bit pissy about it.

Her relationship with Naveed is rocky due to their first encounter with each other. However, she’s grown to tolerate him and find him humorous. Silently enjoying his company, even if it’s the wrong place to be making friends.

Even being okay with being near him as their time together shows he means her no harm. Especially, after she explained her side of the story from the first penalty with the cadet.

Her proof she was the victim was on her neck, as she still has a scar from where he sliced her. Due to her not properly treating it in the beginning.

Similar to Naveed and Soheil, Eva’s eyes glow in the dark. Sometimes when’s she stressed or in tight situations. To her it’s normal but she started questioning it when she saw the brother’s eyes doing the same thing. Making her question if she’s an experiment too, but doesn’t remember it.

That’s all I have on Eva right now, I love her dearly as she my angsty gal! But it’s time to end this backstory game with my little bug Nash! ^^

[maryelizagreg]

Cant believe my mother had the audacity to insinuate the unfortunate things happening to me were entirely my fault yes theres taking responsibility for yourself (which if you don’t do,… no can do) but, also mmm…. It just shows how tone deaf you are to understanding like, what I’m… going through. Like, it shows how little you understand. Or, even try to, understand. And that just baffles me that, if you have a child who is sick and in psychiatric care for years- years. On like, ten different medications. Maybe you might try to fucking understand for 2 seconds. But not once have either of them looked into wanting to or trying to understand not even for a second, with me, within their mind, within their free time, within conversations- with others, and between each other. It’s just, total outsiders. Like, no one is standing in my circle, and it just, that feeling can be difficult to handle in itself, regardless of why you might feel that way, or how rational or valid it might be (it could be an irrational emotion, thats like, a bit, dysregulated or coming from, you know, unearthing some sort of deep seated, thing) but…. Hm… triggering a sensitive chord or whatever. You know striking a chord for you personally.. but mmm

That’s beside the point like,… all of this is beside the point…

Taber, i never met someone so exhausting in my life.

Raquel, I never tasted someone so fucking sweet. Looking back on it, because I was unhealed, I was completely toxic to her, in a way. Though I loved her in every way possible, I really needed to get my shit straight before I could properly treat someone like this right, and she deserved better- and she, figured that out very quickly, and saw it very clearly- but never like, revealed those cards to me, she was never very transparent and so… holding your cards extremely close like that is kind of, an awkward relationship you know.

Jose, was dark and bitter like vitriol, and stung like a snake- as he wrapped his coils around me tighter, and tighter, and tighter… it never ceases. I could not escape your grip. When you finally

Ashley, Ethan- Leo… gosh. I just don’t understand why people come to me, out of no where, always when they are in their darkest place in life. But they do…. Effie, Sam.

Friends or relationships a like.

I’m not sure if I come off as a vulnerable but safe place to land- or, give off a healing energy of safety, security, kindness, compassion-

Or if people just, open their wounds in front of me, and use me as a practice dummy to heal themselves on, sort of like some sort of magic crystal they rub all over themselves and quickly get addicted to like some sort of substance-

Always leaving me high and dry though- seems to be the pattern. I give my all and then when you’ve had your fill, you suddenly aren’t so scared to lose me.

And so this, makes me feel like my value, is very low. I can’t define myself by the relationships I’ve had.

But I’ve never, had someone…. Treat me right. In my fucking life. Sarah, sam, Alex. Cali.

Even the kindest souls, were the most back stabbing and hurtful- in the end, and in full truth, in full light shed on their darkest shadowy places. The cold hard reality, the dark side of the moon, the yin and yang of their human nature I saw plainly both sides at the same time, and have no reaction to it.

This terrifies most people, and to some, they fear someone who evokes this, more than most things…. In life,

And- others… are repeled, reflexive, twitching in response to my energy, as whatever is rotten inside comes thrusting out, and they’re burning, like I am a fire- cleansing t hem of all their impurities, some self combust practically

Others, its like a moth to a flame.

I’ve been described by many as intoxicating, and I think its strange that people have used that word to describe me multiple times.

I think its strange to watch the people who have followed and chased after me, as if, I had something they really, wanted or needed from me-

The more of myself I showed, the worse it got. You know-

And I really had nothing to give I’m just there observing like, empty space, a blank zero in time, a stand still, a pause, a purgatory.

And people just kind of seem to, if they don’t have their head on really straight you know, get kind of lost in this, energy or my aura. They may find it alluring, in a euphoric or peaceful way. Familiar, like you’ve known me forever-

But it’s just, the trauma talking- you know. You relate to the sad things that happened to me maybe, the way in which I stand in reality, my perspective, it’s, an easy light to absorb, the light reflects off me like a wall- very softly, and its easy on the eyes like, you drink me in and its, a warm, round, feeling though real- and bitter, like wine, I entice you for another sip, and another until you’re drunk off me, and you don’t even know what it is- I linger on the tip of your tongue, for the rest of your life you remember the distinction, a rare wine, that has aged, over a very, very long time, an old soul, refined-

And I have a way of putting things into words, and, holding your heart in my hands, just softly enough, you feel, trust. You feel, my experience. My soul, wraps around you, an incandescent light, I lift you off your feet a little, make you forget the world, lighten your burdens, shed light on the beautiful parts, of your heart- your identity, your mind, your being. You blossom underneath me like the sun, and spread wide like a vine,

….. and I don’;t know, why. But, I’m not looking to be, this, for anyone. This is just, what I’ve witnessed and observed.

My taste is certainly not for everyone, it may even be acquired- no, it most definitely is…

After all this time I’m still writing to myself, and not really caring what I say, but the words just sew themselves together and its like I”m putting on a romantic charade, but it’s just pouring out of me, incomprehensible rate, … poetry, that is just words spilling onto the paper, thoughts and images colliding, and…. It’s rather unconscious and, rambling, and unedited. Raw,.. stream of consciousness.

Some would argue it is flow state. So, this is a Buddhist, approach or philosophy- its oriented in, that sort of perspective in which, everything you need is already inside you….

That we walk on our own, individual paths, home. Our own individual journey’s… as Paulo cheollo wrote, we’re all just here to walk each other home. Whether it’s true or not, (objective truth is hard concept to understand, no doubt) but, it’s a nice warm sentiment, that people like to hear, and want to believe. It’s easy and seductive on the ears, for every pained soul, and torn ligament… for a moment, a morphine like elixir, to make the pain stop, the loneliness numb, the connection to humanity- and freedom from the grips of, it’s beguiled parts and exiled demonic… ensnares, entrapments, incessant trials, tribulation- and tragedy. It is a safe place to break, and rest- a home. A comfort, book.

It sells well, it’s marketable, its, satisfying, its entertaining- but what if these are not the important parts of what an artist does, the responsibility of an artist, what art is meant for, and to do. Obviously, it’s a medium to work through, with energy, entanglements, with others- mmmm, for these energy workers what their, capabilities are, geared toward or what their called to do, and how they resonate is not- their choice, but rather a natural and intuitive, almost accidental place they find themselves landing upon…

We have this illusion of control and choice but life finds us wrapped up in it like an insect in a web, it’s hard, to be, a spider.

This is not the nature of what we are, or how our, survival, and our, living, truly works, and unfolds, in all plain and open observation of reality.

There is a balance between the baseline and the complete metaphysical, and I understand it well. I walk on this fine line, like a type rope, and it please me to do so..

This is just what is in my nature, this is just what I was meant for to be, etc. and, you are what you were meant to be. It’s okay, that we are different. I love the way you are, who you are, even your most rotten parts, and most shameful flaws.

Yeah, societally, all these things might matter- but there is also a lot of spaces, and places where, none of it does. And some have chosen to open that gate, and walk to that place, but just mind you, it’s very dangerous place and, to walk through it, is not for the faint of heart, or those not used to navigating, within its predatory, illusory maze- and surprising, adventure that comes in the form, of adversaries- transformational, but painstaking tragedy, you remain calm while planes fall out of the sky, buildings burn, and you hold a mans beating heart in your hands, blood covering your face. It is a war zone… torn apart by rubble, and the cries, and screams, of your brothers and sisters.

If you walk in these places, just know, there will be people who followed you in. As this is the natural flow, of our energy, in the physical and metaphysical forces. Operating clandestine, and spontaneous- rudimentary in sync, and at the time, completely and perfectly unpredictable. And uncontrollable, atomic particles, and matters of physics.

All the people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting along the way have been such a delight, an experience… to taste, to touch, to feel. To know. As we pass by each other, like blades of grass, rustling against each other in the wind. The beautiful scenes we make, thousands of us, dancing as our shadows and light, mix together and create psychedelic patterns, and beautiful song,

Nature is harmonious and indefinite, determined, this way. Almost, as if, it was all, exactly on purpose- every little detail, every little spark, every star, placed, just so- on purpose. We are part of this nature, and so in theory and in philosophy, I embrace this …. Observation, as it is.

The fact we parallel nature isn’t lost on many but, yet, it is still often forgotten, at some degrees. We are willing to accept that we are nature, and the nature of man- until, a certain point, and then comes, denial at the points at which we become uncomfortable to admit- we don[t understand, and don’t have control over these things- we deseperately wish we did.

A…. An innate, survival need for, dominance, total control, lack of powerlessness- to, win and, to have been won- is like getting one over on the universe, and everything about it that scares us, so we can place ourselves in our minds eye, as powerful and in control, all knowing beings.

But this couldn’t be further from the truth and we all know it. We are all lost, we are all blind, we are all flawed, we are all unmistakably broken. We all need each other. We don’t know why, totally. We feel a sense of soul, and heart, and a need, for a higher power. We question things, we know we can never find real answers to. We cuddle up by fire, and other warm bodies, because this is in our very nature to find this constant safety, this constant reminder, a distraction from the cold night of truth, a minty cold breath of fresh air to remind us when we wake, though we can be at peace with this darkness and facts of life, there is pain, there is unfairness, there are times, were our young, are stripped from our bodies, and tearing us apart from the inside out. We can watch, each other as we are ripped apart by lions, and picked apart bone by bone. We are aware we come into this world alone, and die, alone. We are aware of our need for autonomy, to bravely and boldly exist in this world, and yet, in all efforts, hoping to be scathing innocently by on all of this worlds deadly and fatal consequences. Reality, hurts, like a knife. It is the other side, it is our dark nights.

And then we have day, and sun. And

We have both, the sun, and the moon, always there, orbiting us in perfect unison and harmony, balance. Constantly, always. Watching, and going, around, and around, and around…. And around, and around, until one day, the celestial bodies become unwound, and fall off its hinges, degrading and distilled, the universe, untethering itself and by osmosis, everything that was, becomes, something else, seemingly, autonomously. Working like a clock, shifting around, gears grinding as they are set to be, until they breakdown, under the elements.

This is the great infinite vastness of god, he is beyond this. He is far beyond all of this, in space, and time. He is far beyond us. All we can do, is observe the forces, that move us around, as we are shifted by the great tides, and cresting waves, pulling us under toe. Drowning in the glassy cold water, in one fell swoop, we gracefully fall under its spell.

We are nothing but grains of sand, atomic particles, and van der walls forces… yet, without us, and our tiny chemical reactions, our beautiful synapses, our brief, and intangible interactions- that cannot be captured, with pictures, sounds, images, or words-

Without us, there would be nothing… and nothingness. God is beyond us, he let us be, and we question it, for no reason. Why not follow the instruction of the divine, even if its a futile attempt, at doing something right in this world. At least, we can say, we tried. If there is a God, we shouldn’t have any questions at all.

And this is how I know…. If you, an atheist, do not have this peace of Jesus, resting in him. I can sense this, spiritually, energetically, etc. there is evidence, and his, spirit, washes us clean.

You are a wolf in sheep’s clothing, pretending to be something, that you don’t even know, how to spell.

[whaleofatjme1920]

How Much I Would Trust the People of TF2 Holiday Shopping with Me and How Much You Should Trust Them Too

I feel you know the drill. Also based off past experiences. SFW

Scout

9/10

Jeremy is so much fun to go holiday shopping with. He makes the entire trip a journey.

He's surprisingly helpful when it comes to actually figuring out what other people want, but also gets sidetracked by all the things he wants.

Childish wonder is really strong here. We secretly get him some baseball cards bc he’s a nerd and likes to collecting those. also get him a Pokémon plush and he loses his mind. He’s happy.

Yes he wants a picture with Santa.

Soldier

6/10

He dragged Merasmus with and there's nothing we can do about it. We're like the parents and Jane is the had way too much sugar kid.

Jane is everywhere. But he really likes the Smissmas feeling. It makes him happy.

The presents he chooses are absolutely insane though. How are we even going to get that in the car???

He and Merasmus get us chased out of the mall though.

Pyro

7/10

They're such a helpful angel but oh my goodness do they get sidetracked by the toy stores.

Pyro keeps asking to go and eventually we buckle and well, we spend dang near closing playing with the toys.

Other than that Pyro is pretty helpful! Though the things they get for our friends make little to no sense for them personally.

They carry a lot of stuff for us like it's nothing so that's super nice.

Demoman

7/10

When he's not wasted, Tavish is a really fun partner to bring with us. Telling us little anecdotes, getting mall food, it's really fun.

He has,,,, slight insight on what other people want? It's kinda obscure and normally alcohol based. We also have to tear him out of Godiva, but like who can blame him lol.

Yes he gets drunk at some point during the holiday shopping.

Gets into a fight with Santa.

Heavy

10/10

Mikhail is our resident sweetheart. He comes shopping with us and handles so much it's almost insulting.

Mikhail makes sure we don't get swarmed by the crowds. Also gets hot chocolate for us that's sweetie pie behavior.

His insight on the presents we get for others is really personal and sweet. Yes he secretly gets us little cute things to say thank you for spending the day with him.

He asks for our help getting stuff for his mother and sisters and smiles at everything we suggest.

Engineer

10/10

Dell is such a huge fan of the holiday season! Adores Smissmas and probably asks us if we want to come shopping with him first.

He's such a sweetheart too, making sure we make a whole day of it. Breakfast, hot chocolate, good food and when we shop it's full of laughter and fun.

A gentleman through and through. When we're stuck choosing presents, he's got us.

Also buys us stuff when we're not looking and surprises us with it at the end of the excursion.

Medic

10/10

Ludwig is really fun to shop with once we pry him away from his work. He has a deep fondness for the holiday season, bizarrely.

He's like a kid in a candy shop with us. Excitedly showing us things, telling us about how certain things work.

He asks for our help in choosing things for the others and he's always excited to see what we're throwing his way.

He's never actually had a picture with Santa?? So we go with him and he treasures it. Puts it in his wallet.

Sniper

8/10

Mundy likes the holidays but like, in a very lowkey, quiet way. Not a problem at all!

We go shopping with him and he's a little overwhelmed by the pure consumerist aspect but he likes seeing us happy. He definitely gets hot chocolate because I believe Mundy has a slight sweet tooth.

He's actually the type to make his gifts for other people! Might pick up some supplies but he does get stuff for us. Very nice of him.

Honestly we get side tracked just talking to him on the benches in the mall rather than actually shopping because it's more fun to chat.

Spy

8/10

He does NOT want to be at the mall, but goes because we ask him. Also makes a whole day out of it but after noon, we go to high end stores.

Being at the mall he's actually enjoying things just won't admit it.

He's a bit stuck up when it comes to getting people stuff and doesn't actually buy anything at the mall except for the things we show interest in.

The high end stores is where he shows a lot of happiness tbh. We don't understand it at all but he spoils us and his friends (very begrudgingly).

Miss Pauling

9/10

When we're able to peel her away from her work, it's actually really fun to go shopping with her.

Pauling has a lot of fun adventuring with us. She wants to see everything and enjoy the day! Gets hot chocolate, we try on clothes and stuff, it's great fun.

We help her pick out gifts for everyone and she's super thankful. Gets us a few things to say thank you for the help.

Hell we probably see a movie after all of this and get that feeling that's like ??? when the world is dark after it's done. It's a whole day. It's a good day.

Saxton Hale

7/10

I think this might be the highest rating yet for Saxton! The only reason he agreed to come with us is because we asked Mags! And Mags lovingly bullied him into treating us nice.

Saxton won't let us actually buy anything he just steps in and handles it all.

Intimidates the poor workers into practically giving us the stuff. He's pure capitalist Smissmas.

Yes, he fights Santa. Yes, he wins. We may or may not need to call Mags for help to bail him out.

The Administrator

3/10

Helen isn't AS awful for Smissmas shopping but she's still a Grinch.

We drag her to come with us and she spends so much time complaining about literally everything and how low quality it is.

Smokes in the mall which is a big no but surprisingly, she does buy something for us and Miss P!

Dips part way through the excursion and we have to remain on phone call with her smh.

Zhanna

10/10

Zhanna has such fond memories of the holidays with her family and now with Jane that she happily accepts the bonding experience with us.

She has her sisters and mother on phone call so they kinda get included on our trip as well! It's a lot of fun and we kinda get adopted into her family.

We get hot chocolate, choose practical gifts for all of our friends and Zhanna manages to intimidate the sellers to lowering prices for us. Zhanna also gets us a few perfumes/colognes she thinks suit us best!

We help her get stuff for Jane too and she's super thankful. It involves leaving the mall and going to a pet store, which in itself is super fun.

[missmentelle]

 A partner who won’t do their share of household chores is a dealbreaker. 

A partner who doesn’t manage their money responsibly is a dealbreaker.

A partner who has no basic life skills - and no interest in learning any - is a dealbreaker. 

A partner who is proud of their inability to care for themselves is a dealbreaker.

A partner who expects you to parent them is a dealbreaker. 

A partner who makes you take responsibility for their life is a dealbreaker. 

I answer a lot of questions about relationships - and spend a lot of time browsing relationship blogs - and there’s a big issue that I keep seeing over and over again: people who are at the end of their rope because their partner refuses to be a functional adult. 

The posters - who are usually women, but not always - are frustrated that their partners can’t or won’t take basic responsibility for their own lives, and they are exhausted from having to “parent” their partners. Many are in a position where they have to constantly chase down their partner to do basic chores, pay their share of bills or take care of their basic work and school responsibilities, day after day after day. There are certainly times in a relationship when one partner may need to support the other, and one partner may have a disability or medical issue that changes the types of chores they can do, but these situations are well beyond that - many of these people have been dealing with these issues non-stop for years. By the time they’re frustrated enough to turn to the internet for help, they may have had dozens of conversations with their partner about the issue and seen their partner break just as many promises, and they are desperate to find a way to make their partner take the problem seriously and finally change their ways. 

Unfortunately, if you’re in this situation, I don’t have good news for you: your partner is hugely benefiting from this arrangement, and if they’ve been living this way for months or years, it’s unlikely that they’ll ever change. 

Take it from me. When I graduated from university, I moved in with my boyfriend at the time. He had dropped out of college for the second time earlier that year, and was taking some time off to work and mature and “find himself” while he figured out what he wanted to do with his life. 

At least, that was the plan. 

In reality, however, he did nothing. For two straight years. He lost a series of jobs after less than a month because he repeatedly turned up late or simply didn’t go at all. The money that he did have went to video games, takeout and snowboarding equipment - I covered his share of the rent and utilities for months, while I was supposed to be saving money for grad school. Even though I was working full-time and he was mostly unemployed, all of the household chores would fall on me - even asking him to do something as simple as putting his own dirty dishes in the dishwasher or taking the garbage out required constant reminders, pleading, nagging, begging and arguing. It was more work to get him to do a simple task than it was for me to just do it myself, even if I was exhausted and run-down from a stressful day at work. The few times he could be convinced to help out, he did a poor job on purpose, claimed that he was “no good” at chores, and that I’d be better off just doing it for him. And so eventually, I stopped fighting with him - I did absolutely everything by myself, while he sat on the couch and played on his iPad and demanded to know when dinner would be ready. It was an exhausting way to live. 

After two years of this, it dawned on me that I did not actually have a partner - I had a 23-year-old child. I had to do everything for him - I was the one typing up resumes and submitting applications for jobs that he lost two weeks in. I was the one coming home to find my pans burnt and ruined because he’d left food cooking on the stove on high for hours while I was away. His parents gave him thousands of dollars for rent and utilities, and I never saw a dime of it - he frittered it away on junk while racking up thousands of dollars in credit card debt that he refused to deal with. His wealthy parents offered him unlimited access to the best therapists and doctors that money could buy if depression was the issue, but he refused and claimed it wasn’t - he just didn’t like chores and didn’t feel like working. After two years of pleading and nagging and teaching him over and over again, he claimed to still not know how to use a vacuum cleaner, washing machine or dishwasher, even while he easily learned how to use complicated technical equipment for his hobbies. In two years, he had made dozens of promises to change his ways and to start being an equal partner, but none of those promises ever stuck - he’d be good for a day or two, and quickly slid back into “I’ll do it later” and then “you’re better at it, it’ll be easier if you just do it for me”. We had great conversations and made each other laugh and were the best of friends, but ultimately, he was draining the life out of me. He watched me struggle for years and chose his own convenience over supporting and helping me. 

And I was done. 

It can feel petty or silly to say that you are walking away from a long-term relationship because of dirty dishes. But it’s not really about the dishes. It’s so much more than that. It’s about having a partner who values your time and happiness as much as they value their own. It’s about having someone who helps you carry the burdens of life, rather than stacking theirs on top of yours and walking away. A partner who truly cares for you doesn’t sacrifice you for their own convenience - they put the work in. 

Even if that work is dishes. 

[nicoforlifetrue]

I think I've seen this film before (and I liked the ending)

He remembers when he was taken.

He remembers fighting and flailing and trying desperately to get back to his friends, to get away because he didn't know what was happening.

He remembers the faint tap of something to his side and the visions of his worst nightmares that forced him to be quiet.

He remembers kneeling and listening to words, being told that he had the privilege of being a watcher, being told his new name.

He remembers the urge to scream and fight, wanting to lash out, but being too terrified to do anything.

He remembers watching as a thick fluid was forced down his throat and thinking he was choking.

He remembers being watched by two beings as the pain started; pain was an old friend to him, but this, this feeling was brand new, and he didn't know if he would survive it as he felt the familiar heat of cut muscle start to rise…

…But he remembers one stepped forward.

One with soft blond hair that peeked out from the hood, who carefully held his head in their lap and ran fingers through his hair and rubbed between his shoulder blades— silent unlike the other two, silent but so viscerally there, their warmth clashing against the cold of the room as his back lit up with fire.

He remembers the two leaving just as two lines of lava erupted deep in his spine, he remembers the one holding him, running a thumb along the side of the lines and gently pushing in; he remembers that made the pain just a little bit lighter, just a little bit less breaking.

He remembers as the lines started to push, forcing their way to the surface of his skin, and he remembers how he’d started screaming as the inside of his back tore and he slammed his eyes shut.

He remembers the soft press of fingers on his back alleviating the pain the smallest fraction— he remembers the force moving the feeling to go faster— he remembers his head laying on a chest, listening to a soft steady heart and long deep breaths that he found himself mimicking, the two hands carefully massaged his back.

He remembers the sound of his own back tearing open as a new sensation flooded his mind, new limbs he didn't know how to work dripping blood and gore onto the floor.

He remembers the pain of new nerves and bones exposed to the cold air, he remembers the only thing grounding him being the heart beat and those hands moving from his back to his hair, carding through it as the pain slowly faded to a dull, unpleasant throb.

He remembers shakily joking that at least the worst was done with; he remembers them not answering, simply gripping him tighter.

A silent warning that he recognized.

‘It's not over yet.’

The next burn was one he had a few vital seconds to prepare for, not screaming that time as his gut suddenly felt like it was being rearranged, instead biteng into his lip so hard it bled as he tried to focus on the heartbeat in his ears instead of the sounds of something in his body moving, tried to fixate on the hands in his hair instead of the shifting in his gut.

When the pain faded after what felt like hours— when he felt himself lifted yet kept close to this person's chest, the steady, calm heartbeat grounding him from the lingering soreness and the burn in his back— he wanted to ask again, ask the one that had stayed if they were done with him.

They didn't answer.

Instead they honored him by washing his back of his own blood and gore, gentle hands stitching the gashes in his back closed.

“So you're like the medic of this little operation then?” he had asked. “You're required to patch me up before forcing me through another round of torment.”

He remembers watching the person freeze, clearly handmade bandages half wrapped around Grian’s torso, the mask hiding their eyes but the faintest flick of a frown flashing across their lips for a split second.

And he remembers them shaking their head twice, answering both his questions silently.

He remembers them carrying him around for a while, until the last pangs had stopped.

He remembers them re-teaching him how to walk with the new appendages on his back.

He remembers them showing him how to preen, letting Grian stumble and pull on their feathers before he tried to do it on his own.

He remembers them shoving him off the side of a building into the void, his terror for those few vital moments as he froze, how they had grabbed him before the void had swallowed him. He had asked why and they’d said nothing, just pushed him again— and this time he had understood as instead of freezing in fear (they would catch him, he knew that now) he started to struggle in the air as his wings moved on their own.

He thinks there was pride in that blank expression when he shot up with fluttering wings.

He would mutter under his breath around them, about how something was unfair, morally wrong, how something was right. They wouldn't do anything, but he thinks at times they nodded— a small, barely noticeable nod.

They would correct him gently, and after he had flinched away from their hands during the first staff training they shifted him with the stick; kind, careful, aware, as if they knew.

He didn't trust them, and at times he found himself hating them.

Until they weren't there.

“Aeipra will be unable to train you for a short while,” a higher up informed him, his mentor at their side. “Lerva will fill in until they return, understood?”

Lerva was high up enough in the chain to speak.

Lerva followed the rules, apparently.

The staff caused nightmares— awful, horrid nightmares meant to break the soul… his mentor never used their staff on him.

They apparently were meant to.

He’d felt like he was breaking quite quickly, this new mentor was downright cruel.

Where his would silently encourage questions, was invested in Grian’s opinions for all their apathy, this one seemed set on getting rid of them, and any sort of sound would receive him his worst memories on loop.

Where his mentor was kind in their corrections, gentle and carefu,. this one was cruel, any mistake receiving punishment.

Where his mentor for their silence was warm and understanding, this one in their words berated him and tore him down.

“Have they not trained you at all?” the new one would spit, “or are you just defiant, hm?”

There was a hidden threat there, one he caught onto quite quickly. He was given leniency for being so young, his mentor's gentleness would be treated far more harshly.

When they returned, their gentle and large wings stretching to shadow him, he didn't scoff for once; after all, how much had his mentor risked for Grian’s own comfort?

“You hate me,” were the first words his mentor ever spoke to him, the words raspy from disuse, the tone willfully blank.

‘I hate what you are’ he found himself thinking in his shock. “I don’t,” he had said instead.

After that, words— though far and few between— came despite the clear breaking of rules… and he learned things.

He learned that the other liked to fly, not for speed but freedom; he learned the smallest changes in their tone and the slightest change in their wings.

They became a figure he never really had in his life.

A parent of sorts.

They shared his own joy of chaos, that joy slipping through painstakingly-crafted walls at times, teaching him small tricks that could never be traced back to them that would cause the smallest ripples in the still pond around them.

They shared his joy of flight, showing him tricks and dives, teaching him how to adapt those tricks from his mentor's large swooping wings for his own smaller fluttering ones, a glider vs a sprinter they had whispered to him when he asked.

They shared his joy of building, playing elaborate games easily disguised as training of tricks and perspective, learning new items and fun ways to use them.

They understood his want for life, to live and enjoy and steal away little moments of heaven for himself.

They knew him better than anyone else, despite not knowing a lick of his story.

Seeing them go back was what hurt.

On that one time, because night and day were nothing it was always just time, as they hurried him awake— saying nothing as they grabbed him and tugged him along— twisting through corridors and shoving him through a sputtering portal.

It was a blur after that, of flying and twisting and portal nausea.

And when they finally stopped, as they gave him that soft smile, the one of reassurance and safety, his heart dropped.

“No no no come on no stay please—” he knows he's begging as he grips onto their robe. “We’re out- stay- please, they'll kill you if you go back, please—” because his mentor could be killed, his mentor wasn't immortal like he was.

With soft hands (too soft, artificially soft, meant to be covered in calluses and stained with soot) they take the hand clinging to them, rubbing soft circles in it as they smile.

“Goodbye my child,” they whisper to him as they drop his hand and spread their wings.

And he can't follow, he can't chase after the only parental figure he ever had, because he has to hide, he's free and they are not. He can’t follow because then, what would their life have been worth?

So he hides.

----

:D

[ladykissingfish]

Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Eight // Kakuzu

What is with this group and wasting their free time doing such inane and pointless things? The old guy can think of at least 50 other activities (the majority of which involve making money) that everyone could be doing, rather than lining up to kiss each under a little green plant. When it’s his turn in the spotlight, he tries as hard as he can to back out of his “obligation” ... but Pein (and Kakuzu’s own persistent partner, Hidan) insist that Kakuzu participate. Kakuzu sighs and nods; he’s smart enough to know when he’s been defeated. However, Pein should know that Kakuzu will be adding a little extra money to his paycheck that week, for “hazard pay”.

Pein

Nagato was more interested in Kakuzu joining his group than any of the others. Immortality, money-sense, expertise and wisdom ... this is the man who survived the wars of the past. This is the man who survived the mighty Hashirama, God of all shinobi. Still, Nagato is no fool; he realizes that Kakuzu’s number one priority in life isn’t the Akatsuki, but money. Kakuzu would probably (and had likely thought about) betray them all in exchange for a tidy sum. So Nagato (as Pein) works to keep Kakuzu content enough to remain loyal, including making him the group’s treasurer and giving him complete control over everyone’s finances. And Kakuzu remains highly useful; strategizing, completing missions twice as fast (and ten times as efficient) as his younger teammates. Pein approaches Kakuzu and gives him a light kiss on the forehead, before returning to his room. He reminds himself to speak to Kakuzu later; he has some ideas about weapons he’d like to procure for the group, and needs to see if it would be financially feasible to do so.

Konan

Kakuzu genuinely likes Konan, and appreciates her company. Many men of Kakuzu’s generation were raised on the belief system that women were solely meant to be wives, child-bearers, and home-makers; to call a female a ninja was deemed unthinkable. But Kakuzu was a rarity in that he never saw this as being the case; man or woman, one’s inner strength was all that mattered in regards to being a shinobi. He’s spoken with Konan at length about her childhood, and the trauma she endured, and he knows that this little blue-haired lady is a sight tougher than a LOT of people (and Kakuzu’s met quite a few in his long life). Konan walks up to him and he smiles; it’s rare for Kakuzu to smile, but Konan brings it out of him. “Good evening, Kakuzu-san. I think it’s my turn.” He nods, and slips off his mask so that his lips are exposed. He leans down and very, very gently kisses her cheek. Her blushing skin is soft and her smile is beautiful as she thanks him and steps away, to let the next person go.

Kisame

Nobody knows this about Kakuzu (and he fears he would be mocked if they did), but the old guy puts a lot of emphasis on the idea of exercise. Five hearts is a lot of responsibility, and staying healthy is how Kakuzu intends to keep living forever. So every night, when the others are asleep and after he’s done with his reading, he’ll spend some time in his room exercising. One night Kisame passed by his open door and saw him using a pair of heavy books as make-shift weights. The next evening Kisame came to Kakuzu’s room with a set of real barbells , which he casually gave to Kakuzu with the admonition not to overdo it. Kakuzu greatly appreciated the gesture (and the unspoken support), and the two have been good friends ever since. But ... a kiss between them would just be too strange, so Kisame comes up with a better option: an arm-wrestling match, Kisame grabs the kitchen table and two chairs and sets them up under the mistletoe. Of course the rest of the Akatsuki gathers to watch, hooting and hollering and placing bets on who will win. Kisame and Kakuzu are both fairly evenly matched, so that challenge goes on for a while. Finally, with a final grunt of exertion, Kakuzu is able to slam Kisame’s hand into the table. Everyone claps, and Kisame laughs and tells Kakuzu that he’s “one tough son of a bitch”; high compliment coming from a man who was half-shark.

Itachi

Out of all the members of the Akatsuki, Itachi was by far the least problematic of the younger ones. Quiet, thoughtful, quick and efficient in completing missions. And polite; always forthcoming with “please” and “thank you”, and never failing to use honorifics with the others, even though some of them (ie Deidara and Hidan) don’t show him that same respect back. One time Kakuzu had caught a cold that stubbornly hung on for several days. Itachi came to his room every day with a cup of congestion-easing tea, something that Kakuzu didn’t ask for, but greatly appreciated nonetheless. Itachi comes up to him and nods. “Kakuzu-san.” “Itachi-san.” Itachi leans up and gives him a light kiss to the cheek, and Kakuzu is struck by a particular urge — to hug this kid. Something about him, perhaps everything about him, seems like a cry for parental love and affection. Kakuzu resists this odd impulse, but Itachi seems to sense that it’s something he wanted, because he leans over again and very briefly puts his arms around the older man. “Thank you,” he murmurs, before walking away. Kakuzu watches him go, slightly shaking his head.

Tobi

Tobi gives Kakuzu an uneasy feeling deep within his heart(s). Running around, speaking loudly, eating nothing but candy and sweets, acting like a complete fool — it’s an act. Kakuzu has never been more convinced of anything in his life. The only question is, why is Tobi putting on this act? To deceive them all into a false sense of security, before striking? Kakuzu has hunted bounties a good deal of his life, and a lot of the more difficult ones to catch have acted EXACTLY the way Tobi does, in order to throw off potential bounty hunters. Kakuzu learned to see through them, the same way he sees through Tobi. But to tip one’s hand and give away what you know is unthinkable in the chase and capture game, so Kakuzu never lets on what he actually believes. “Oh boy Kakuzu-san; does Tobi get a kissy now?!” Kakuzu nods, and Tobi slides his mask halfway off (Kakuzu notes the lines on the side of his face; accident, most likely. Possibly a disfiguring one) and the strange glint of his eye. Before Tobi can act, Kakuzu puts a hand on his face and kisses his forehead. “There. Now go.” Tobi slides the mask back on and hurries away with his usual chatter and giggling, and Kakuzu reminds himself to loom through the bingo book later for bounties with visible scarring on the left side of the face.

Zetsu

Five hearts means more blood needed to sustain said hearts. More blood means a stronger scent. A stronger scent means ... Kakuzu smells delicious to someone like Zetsu. Zetsu approaches him and looks around quickly; the two are alone. His brain runs through every possible scenario in which he could successfully kill and eat Kakuzu. He’s victorious in a few ... but most end with him mutilated by the man’s tentacles, and having to face the wrath of Pein on top of everything else. So he simply sighs, flicks out his tongue to taste the saltiness of Kakuzu’s cheek, and walks away again. Just that one taste was almost enough to make zetsu throw restraint to the wind and eat his fill, so he leaves before he can do anything he’ll regret. Kakuzu wipes off his cheek in mild disgust ... in a group full of freaks, Zetsu certainly seemed to take the cake.

Deidara

Kakuzu still remembers the day they brought this kid into the group. And that’s exactly what he was; a kid. Barely 15 years old, with a powerful “gift”, and full of anger at a village he felt betrayed him in not trying to understand his unique sense of ‘art’. Fast forward several years later and Deidara had changed, and most of that change was the better. Kakuzu could only surmise that the kid matured due to the constant council and guidance of his older and wiser partner Sasori; Kakuzu feels mildly jealous that Sasori was able to reign some measure of improvement over HIS young partner, but Kakuzu couldn’t do a thing with Hidan. Still, though, even Sasori hadn’t been able to completely tame the kid, as evidenced by Deidara managing to get BOTH arms blown off in a tussle with some Konoha nin. Kakuzu had been tasked with sewing his new arms back on, but to the kids credit, despite his painful the procedure had been, he didn’t utter a sound. Had even thanked Kakuzu, twice, afterwards. Deidara walks up to him and looks almost shy; 19 years old now and still with the face of a child. Kakuzu leans down and kisses the kid’s forehead, again noting his soft and smooth �� and LONG — his hair was. It sways as Deidara walks away, and Kakuzu wonders how much he could get for those luscious locks, from the right buyer.

Sasori

Respect. Out of all the words that Kakuzu could use to describe how he felt about Sasori, Respect was at the top of the list. And the funny thing was, Kakuzu hadn’t even met the REAL Sasori until almost a year of being in the Akatsuki. The two had been sent on a mission, and at night, near the campfire, a soft metal sound made Kakuzu turn his head. It was a small, slender redhead, emerging from the being that Kakuzu had THOUGHT was a real person. The two had looked at each other for a while, and then started a game of cards as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As time went on, the two became closer. They both shared an interest in/knowledge of medical jutsu and procedures, and would often come to one another with questions or with articles on different medicines. Kakuzu nods at him as he walks up, and Sasori does the same. He thinks about it, bends down and kisses Sasori’s left cheek, and Sasori smiles at him, bidding him a quiet Good Evening before going back to his room.

Hidan

“Hey old fuck; you’ve been dying to get your hands on my sexy body all day, haven’t ya, pervert?” Kakuzu would roll his eyes at Hidan’s comment, but at this point, he’s ridiculously used to the things his partner says and does. As he looks at Hidan’s face, he wonders, and not for the first time, whether this is a punishment of sorts. Gaining five hearts and creating a kind of immortality only came for Kakuzu at the end of a long and bloody road, one paved with the unwilling sacrifices of other people. Was it Fate, that the Gods had put THIS man, this loud, overbearing, foul-mouthed heathen, into his path? And as the one person who just might be immortal, too? Hidan often joked about “When all these other assholes bite the big one, me and you might as well get married, bastard.” But what in the world was he saying? Surely he was joking; why would someone as young and attractive as Hidan want to be with Kakuzu? Kakuzu who was heaven knows how many times Hidan’s age, and — “So we gonna slobber each other or what?” “You’ve got a big mouth, brat. Learn to shut up once in a while.” “MAKE me shut up, fuck-face.” So Kakuzu grabs Hidan around the waist, tilts him back, and sinks into his lips. Kakuzu’s mouth is rough and scarred but Hidan’s is smooth and soft, and the contrast creates a dizzying effect for both men. Hidan grasps Kakuzu’s shoulders tighter, leaving slight nail-prints in Kakuzu’s flesh. Their lips are touching but in this moment it feels like everything is touching, even their very souls (if either of them still had one, that is). When Kakuzu finally breaks the kiss and pulls Hidan back up, the white-haired immortal seems fairly disorientated ... but that doesn’t stop his mouth. “You’re an even bigger pervert than I thought, old fuck. Who the hell said you could stick your tongue in my mouth?? And why —” Kakuzu suddenly reaches out and grabs Hidan’s face with both hands, this time pulling him forward into a very soft, closed-mouth kiss. “Better?” Instead of a smartass answer, Hidan simply nods; and now he’s smiling as he walks away. If he were to turn around at any point, he’d surely gasp; because Kakuzu’s smile was even bigger than Hidan’s own. “Stupid kid,” Kakuzu mutters to himself, still smiling as he makes his way back to his room.

[winterscaptain]

when you wake up.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i’m a sucker for protective aaron, alright? sue me. i have checked and double checked, but if i’ve messed up any gender-neutralisms, please let me know! i’d like to thank snow, the academy, and my welbutrin for their spiritual aid as i write these fics at an alarming rate rating/words: teen / 2642 warnings: canon-typical injury, swearing, kissing 

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Open!

+++

“You know –“ you gasped, grimacing through the pain, “blood is a bitch to get out of a wool blend.”

Aaron pressed his lips together, his forearms flexing as he staunched the bleeding from the gunshot wound in your shoulder with his gorgeous navy pinstripe blazer.

That one was my favorite, you thought with a pout.

He had you propped against a wall, his shirt splattered with your blood. He had torn the collar of your shirt for better access to your wound, and your vest was entirely forgotten on the floor beside you. Emily called the paramedics about seven minutes prior, but the backroads of Montana were not conducive to prompt medical service.

The pain wasn’t unbearable, and surely you’d been through worse.

Shock is a hell of a drug.

Nevertheless, his concern was touching. It had been a while since either one of you were injured – long before you realized you had feelings for each other and did absolutely nothing about it.

It all happened so fast – you had your gun trained on the unsub, who was using the sixth almost-victim as a shield. As soon as Derek and Aaron threw the back door open, he’d shoved the frightened young woman toward Derek and moved really quickly.

Bang. Ouch. Fuck.

“Aaron.”

He didn’t respond and was dutifully ignoring your eyes, focused entirely on the blood gushing through his fingers under your shoulder blade. The hand attached to your injured arm wrapped around his bicep, your fingers clinging to the fabric of his sleeve.

“I’m fine,” you continued. “It’s through and through. Six weeks tops I’ll be back to my old tricks.” 

You brought your other hand to his hair, and he leaned into your touch almost unconsciously. Your thumb smoothed over the hair at his temple, where tiny silver streaks rested in the inky black. You were just teasing him about his greys last week.

“They make you look distinguished!” You insisted. You were behind him as he sat at his dining room table, helping Jack set the table for dinner while Aaron tried (in vain) to review a consult.

“They make me look old,” he retorted in a deadpan.

You raked your fingers through the hair at his temples, massaging his scalp all the way to the crown of his head. He leaned back, his hand relaxing around his pen. With a final pat to the top of his head, you stepped away and returned to the pasta sauce.

“No old man would cook as badly as you do.”

His withering glare made his son laugh out loud, and the look only grew darker as you offered Jack a high-five.

“You’re still losing a lot of blood.” His voice was low and tense, his jaw tight.

Derek hovered nearby, though Aaron had shooed him away minutes earlier. He was talking into the comm, likely getting status updates from EMS.

Offering Derek a weak smile, you let your hand drop to Hotch’s wrist. Your eyes were heavy, but you fought to keep them open. Falling unconscious now would only worry him more.

“Aaron, you need to breathe.”

He huffs, and it’s almost a laugh but there’s no humor in it. “You’re telling me to breathe?”

“I’m breathing just fine.” And you were, focused only on the feel of his hands on your skin and the slow, deep breaths you took to keep your oxygen levels high as your blood pressure dropped. “Breathe with me, please. It’ll make me feel better.” That was a low blow, but you were pulling every card you had to keep him from breaking his teeth with that clenched jaw.

God, you were just so tired.

Aaron’s brown eyes flickered up to yours and softened. He leaned forward, shifting his weight and wrapping an arm around you as sirens faintly wailed some distance away. “Lean into me. It’s okay. You can sleep. I’ve got you.”

You were cheek-to-cheek when you finally passed out, succumbing to the heaviness.

+++

When you woke up, your shoulder ached, and the lights were way too bright.

There was a weight dipping the mattress on your left side and a dark shadow on your right.

You lifted your head slightly to see Aaron fast asleep, his head resting on his arms. You smiled and redirected your attention to your right. The dark shadow was Emily, watching you with a soft smile.

“Hey, champ.”

“Hey Em.”

She gestured to Aaron with her chin. “He hasn’t left once.” There was an implication behind her words, something not-quite suggestive, but understanding.

You ignored it for now. “How long was I out?” You brought your hand to Aaron’s tense shoulder, relaxing there, your thumb tracing back and forth over his baby blue button-down. Your IV line pulled a little, and you retracted your hand to his bicep.

“About two days. Surgery went really well – they just had to patch up a couple of ligaments and set a few pins in your clavicle. Nothing shattered, and no fragments. All things considered, really clean shot.”

Not as bad as I thought.

“He’s been here the whole time? Are we still in Montana? What day is it?”

Emily laughed, smiling broadly. “So many questions!” She counted off on her fingers. “His ass has only left that chair to chase down your doctor and go to the bathroom like...twice. We are still in Montana. It’s Tuesday. We’ll be on our way home as soon as you’re discharged. We wouldn’t leave without you.”

You sighed, adjusting your position on the bed. “Thanks.”

She winked. 

Hotch stirred, and Emily stood.

“I’ll leave you two for now. We’re all out in the waiting room if you want to see anyone.” She kissed your forehead and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

You could see the exact moment he registered your hand on his shoulder. He startled, straightening faster than you could blink. His eyes still bleary from sleep, you watched as he took stock of your entire person, finally meeting your eyes.

“Hi, Hotch.”

“Hi.” He reached for your hand with both of his, careful of the IV in your forearm. He brought your linked hands to his lips - warm, relieved breath washing over your fingers.

You squeezed once, feeling the stress and worry in his grip. “I’m okay.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry I got shot.” Your voice was soft, but the humor behind it was unmistakable.

He huffed a laugh against your hands. “I should be mad at you.”

“You aren’t?”

Just then, a twinge in your shoulder made you wince. Your face crinkled up before you could hide it.

Hotch immediately reached for the call button, his body arcing gracefully over yours, pressing it twice. He looked down at you from under his arm. “No, I’m not.”

The nurse came in, said something about how nice it was to see you awake, and administered some more pain medication. She worked around Hotch, who never let go of your hand.

You had your eyes on him the whole time. His hawkish brown eyes tracked everything – the dosage, the IV drip – until the nurse left the room.

Right away, you started feeling heavy, your eyes slipping closed. “I don’t - I don’t wanna sleep,” you mumbled.

The back of Hotch’s hand traced the line of your cheek in a gentle caress. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you felt his touch fall down your good arm and wind your fingers together. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You should get s’m sleep.”

You weren’t sure if it was the haze of meds or not, but you could swear you felt kisses to each one of your fingertips before you slipped into unconsciousness once more.

+++

When you woke again, he was still there. He was kicked back in the recliner this time, a book in his lap and reading glasses perched on his nose. It was dark outside, and you surmised you’d been asleep for a couple of hours.

“Since when do you wear reading glasses?” Your voice was rough with sleep.

Hotch snatched the glasses in question off his nose and folded them into his collar. “I don’t, usually, but the fluorescents are hard on my eyes after a while.”

You nodded sagely before breaking out into a smile. He offered you one back, one of those sweet, crooked, closed-mouth tip-ups.

Those might be my favorite.

You shifted, scooting over in the hospital bed and raising the head with the remote so you could sit up with more ease. Hotch stood, and you could tell he was trying to give you space as you independently adjusted your surroundings.

You patted the bed next to your hip, and he gingerly sat beside you, crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. He probably didn’t realize, but his entire body was bowed toward you, from his toes to his shoulders. You had always been tuned to each other, like finely-made instruments.

There was so much to say, so much unsaid. This injury was pretty far from a near-death experience, but it was enough to screw your head on straight a little bit.

“Aaron, I --“ You stopped, not sure where to begin. You rested a hand on the knee within your reach, tracing absentminded circles on the grain of his jeans.

Almost three days in the hospital and he’s still wearing jeans.

Well...at least it’s not a suit.

“Why did you stay?” Your words left you without your permission, but maybe it was better that way.

His brow lowered. “It’s my job.”

Your lips tipped up in a small, wry smile. “Bullshit.”

He heaved a sigh. “Fine. I felt...compelled to make sure you were alright.” His eyes were cast down toward the heavy white blanket beneath him. “Every time I got up to leave, I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you knowing you could wake up and I wouldn’t be there.”

You were acutely aware of the dopey grin on your face.

He looked up at you. “It doesn’t make any sense I know –“

“Aaron.” You stopped him with four fingers pressed to his mouth. It was the first time you’d actually instigated contact with his mouth. You felt the stubble that was rapidly turning into a proper beard, but you were focused on the softness of his mouth. You softened, letting your hand relax against him. “It makes sense to me.”

There was silence for a moment. You just stared at each other, your hand still over his mouth. You were glad your heart rate stayed steady, as the beeping was one of the only sounds in the room.

“Hey, Aaron?” Your fingers weren’t really tracing his lips, but they weren’t...not doing that either.

He smiled and spoke from behind your fingers. “Yeah?”

“The spot between my shoulders is insanely itchy.”

He shook his head, exasperated, and pulled your fingers from his mouth. “Lean up for a second.”

You did, and he pulled a pillow from behind you and put it in your lap. You wrapped your good arm around it and ducked your head down. His fingers massaged across your good shoulder and neck, releasing some of the tension there.

He laughed aloud when you made a (frankly) obscene noise when he hit a particularly sore spot.

“You’re giving my physical therapist a run for his money, Aaron.”

“Good.”

He moved down underneath the sling strap, gently running his nails back and forth over the skin peeking through your hospital gown. It was heaven.

“Okay, you can’t ever stop doing that.”

He continued, scratching lightly up and down your spine “I’m here as long as you want me here, sweetheart.”

The endearment made your heart feel all fuzzy, and you relaxed further into the pillow, your body relaxing as the tension melted out of your back.

He stopped after a few minutes, just smoothing his hand back and forth along the left side of your back. “Feeling better?”

“Much, thank you,” you said, leaning back against the pillows.

He brushed some hair away from your face and hesitated there for a moment. Your jaw fit a little too neatly in his hand. You licked your lips, finding your mouth suddenly dry.

“Y/N...” he said, still quiet.

You shook your head and leaned forward at the same time he did. You met halfway, and he captured your lips with a relieved sigh. He was so careful with you, considering your injury, one hand reaching from your jaw to the side of your head, the other resting on your thigh on top of the thin hospital blanket.

The faded smell of his cologne or deodorant or something very masculine swirled around you. It was a smell you could identify anywhere – something spicy and earthy and Aaron.

Your noses slid against each other as you pulled apart to grin at each other. He pulled you back toward him and your lips met again. Your breath caught as his tongue traced your lower lip. You granted him access, ignoring the embarrassing spike in your heart rate that sent the monitors into a frenzy.

A part of you absolutely wanted to jump him then and there, but between your shoulder and the big window facing out into the hallway, that was a no-go.

You settled for devouring him from where you were instead, taking his lips between your teeth until he was groaning into your mouth. His hands knotted in your hair and you twisted his shirt in your hand. You didn’t think too much about the fact you’d been asleep for two days and therefore had two days of morning breath. The only thing on your mind was the taste of coffee on Aaron’s tongue, the hand planted firmly on your thigh, and the surprising softness of his lips.

It���s not that you thought he’d be a bad kisser, but fuck he was good at it. Almost too good. You craved more and damned your shoulder (again) for keeping you tethered to this bed and unable to wrap him in your arms.

“God,” he whispered into your mouth. “I was so scared I was going to lose you.”

You laughed into him, nipping at his lip again. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

There was a desperate edge to his touch as he took your face between his hands and pulled back to look at you. He kissed you once. Twice. So gently you almost couldn’t feel it. “I’m never getting rid of you,” he said. “Not now, not ever.”

It took you a couple of seconds to open your eyes again. When you did, the warm brown of Aaron’s eyes sank into you, and you almost forgot you’d been shot less than 72 hours prior. “Am I nuts to tell you how much I love you when I’m hopped up on pain meds?”

He shook his head, a thousand-gigawatt smile eating up his whole face. You cupped his jaw in your hand, pressing your thumb into one of his dimples. He tenderly covered your hand with his and turned to press an achingly gentle kiss your palm. “Only a little,” he said. He guided you back onto the pillows, arranging them around you so you could sleep without jostling your shoulder.

The nurse bustled back in and asked after your pain level. You said seven (it was a lie, you’d give it a nine and a half if you weren’t trying to be a hero), and she administered another round of meds. She swept out of the room and your eyes started to close again.

“Aaron...” you whispered, clinging to the last dregs of consciousness.

A kiss to your forehead. Warm breath over your fingers.

If safety had a texture, it would be somewhere between the callouses on his hands and the cool cotton of his dress shirts.

“I’m here.” A pause. “Hey.”

You cracked an eyelid.

“I love you too, by the way.”

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans

[penguintransporter]

Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) Part I

Here it is my ladies and gents! I hope you like it, and I apologise if it’s too long, but I got carried away. Please let me know if you like it because I am always up to work on my writing, so don’t hesitate to write me DM or send in an ask (I promise, I am the friendliest person out there). This one is dedicated to @bitchforaesthetics. Anyway, read, enjoy because part II is coming out very soon...

P.S. There is no covid-19 in this story :D

_____

If one asked anyone at the Arsenal Training Centre to describe Aida - the young brunette behind the reception desk, nine out of ten times one would hear the same answer:

Bundle of positive energy. 

It didn’t matter if one was a know or less-known footballer, coach, manager, medical staff or just a random fan touring the grounds - Aida, with her smile and positive energy, could chase away whatever dark cloud was looming above one's head. Yet, despite her contagious smile that was just loud enough and genuine curiosity, as any other human being, Aida wasn’t able to chase away the real dark clouds that seemed to clutch Hertfordshire sky in a tight embrace on that Monday morning. 

Seated behind the desk and waiting for her laptop to turn on, Aida observed the gloominess outside the building and all she saw was heavy blots of grey that seemed to carry all the weight accumulated during the month of December. 

Her last month at Arsenal FC, doing the job she enjoyed more than anything.

If it only had snowed; just a little.

 She would be lying if she said she liked freezing cold, and if anyone, she would be the absolute winner of “the worst balance on icy pavements” competition - if there was one - but Christmas had a different feel to it when everything was covered in fluffy and pillow white cover. And even if she wasn’t religious or celebrated Christmas as the majority of the people, she was a firm believer that snowy Christmas made that cup of hot cocoa, as she sat in her tiny studio under her favorite blanket, just a tiny bit better. 

Aida glanced at the small card that sat next to her laptop - red and golden swirls decorating the backside of it, and with a sigh she averted her gaze back at the laptop screen that had already turned on and was humming quietly - red Arsenal FC logo staring back at her. The large and Christmas decorated lobby was still quiet, but not for too long. In just a few minutes, most of the footballers and some other employees will start pouring into the building, either for training or for their 9/5 job, and with that the building will start buzzing with contagious energy. 

All except Sead. He was late on most of the days.

Aida looked at the clock in the corner of her screen before looking up expectantly at the door, and as if on cue, Alexandre Lacazette walked in through the door, talking to his fellow countryman Thomas who worked as a medical assistant. Both Aida and Thomas, along with some others were shortlisted for the layoff, but in the end it was Aida who pulled out the shorter straw. 

She shook her head, refusing to create unnecessary tension.

 Aida knew that she gained nothing from sulking and sadness. She still had to sit behind the reception desk for another few weeks, smiling and giving the best first impression to everyone who came in. So, with a deep breath, Aida lifted her chin high and looked at the two men in front of her. 

“Bonjour lads,” she grinned - the dark thoughts disappearing as soon as she spoke, leaning on the till in front of her. “Lovely weather outside, no?”

“Good morning indeed, sunshine,” Alexandre responded while still walking across the lobby, “I am actually wearing my bikini on underneath this outfit, what about you?” he added as he disappeared through the hallway that led to the changing rooms while Aida only laughed after him.  

“What a ridiculous man,” Thomas commented, stepping in front of Aida’s desk, smiling at her. “It is so cold outside. How did you travel?”

Aida sighed defeatedly. “Clio took four tries and a bottle of warm water to start this morning, despite the lack of snow and ice. I was really chuffed for this winter, but so far it has only been disappointing.” 

Her soon-to-be ex-colleague nodded, agreeing with her words before his eyes landed on the shiny invitation on Aida’s desk. “Oooh,” he mused, running a hand through his ginger curls. “Who’s date are you? Is it David? Please say it’s not him?”

“Nope!” Aida replied, giggling. There was nothing wrong with David Luiz - he was in fact a genuine sweetheart, but also notorious around the building for his charm and flirting action. Whether it was Aida at the reception desk when he needed an excuse for being late for the training or if it was Simone in the kitchen when he wanted another round of hash browns - he didn’t pick his victim nor his weapon. “Actually,” Aida started, “it was Finn from HR. He thought it would be a nice gesture since I do not get to stay here.”

“I don’t have to tell you again how sorry I am that you have to leave,” Thomas mumbled and Aida shrugged, hiding the disappointment. 

“Oh well,” she trailed off as few of the other players walked into the building and she made sure that she smiled at each one of them. She also made sure to high-five Calum Chambers as she did every morning for more than a year. “There is nothing that you can do really… Post?” she asked, trying to change the subject, and Thomas nodded, leaning over the till to grab the signing pad that rested on Aida’s desk while she shuffled some envelopes before pulling out a big, mustard yellow one. “There is something from Miami. I am assuming it is for Michael,” Aida spoke, exchanging the signing pad for the envelope. “Just tell me if there—  ,”

They were cut off by  the upstairs’ doors slamming shut with a force. Both her and Thomas looked up, watching Mikel Arteta walk downstairs with a risky speed - phone pressed to his ear as he spoke in a very quick and heavily accented English. Thomas quickly cast his eyes downwards, but Aida kept her eyes locked at the dark-haired man, waiting for the manager to notice her. When he finally did, she gave him a bright smile - ignoring the fact that he looked as if he was angry with the whole world - including Aida.

To Thomas’ surprise, Arteta returned Aida’s gesture with a friendly grin and a small wink before putting his agitated face expression back, walking away towards the training pitches.

“I really don’t know how you do it,” Aida’s colleague muttered, and she responded with a childish giggle. 

She was about to add something sarcastic, but the main entrance doors opened, letting the gust of cold wind trail in with force as Héctor Bellerín walked in with confidence that he mastered so well. He was dressed in clothes that resembled every outfit of Aida’s dad in the family photographs from the nineties, looking the only way Héctor Bellerín could -  both ridiculous and extremely cool at the same time.

“Want to watch me how I fail?” she whispered before clearing her throat a little, following their vice-captain with her green eyes. “Good morning, Héctor!” she called out, raising her voice so he could hear her perfectly. “Bollocks weather, innit?”

Nothing.

Not an eye-contact, a simple shrug, or any kind of motion or face expression that showed a tiniest bit of interest. 

Aida was aware that her friendliness sometimes caused people to recoil and shy away from her, and that her behavior could be overbearing at times, and she often wondered if people in the modern world, including Héctor, forgot how to be friendly and appreciate an honest smile. Aida was confused and a slightly bit hurt because it has been more than a year since she started working  for the club, and they only spoke two times - morning of her first day, and that time when they accidentally slammed into one another as they crossed their paths in the medicals. 

She wasn’t sure if she was doing something wrong because to Aida, he seemed like a nice and down to earth lad, and occasionally when she would observe him interact with his teammates and other staff members, she felt a pang of jealousy because she never got more than a cold stare across the room or occasional roll of his eyes.

“Maybe he’s just not a morning person,” Thomas commented, breaking Aida’s train of thoughts. He placed the envelope under his arm as he stuck his woolly hat inside the pocket of his puffer. “Anyway, I have to go. I have meeting in ten minutes. I’ll see you around.” 

“Yeah, good luck with your day,” Aida responded, watching Thomas walk towards his office on the ground floor. 

She sat back in her comfy chair with an itch of confusion mixed with some foreign feeling of sadness that started to tickle her. She couldn’t pinpoint what she was doing wrong when it came to Héctor Bellerín. They barely interacted, and yet he wasn’t giving her a chance. It didn’t help either that out of all people that Aida interacted with on a daily basis, he was the only one who made her heart both flutter and break at the same time. 

Her eyes glanced at the small calendar taped on the inside of her desk before resting on the party invitation again - her heart soaring with that familiar feeling.

**

Aida nodded, forcing a smile at some of the guests who passed her by. She wasn’t sure who they are or what their names were, but judging by their expensive clothes and blinding jewelry and watches, she figured out they must be very important people with lots of money.

The evening of the charity party has arrived quicker than she expected; quicker than she wanted, and even if the party was for a good cause, and she was meant to have a good time, she couldn’t shake off the tension that slowly accumulated over the past few weeks - her last weeks as the club’s employee. She didn’t want to leave, but despite talking with the HR department once again, there was nothing that she could do. Official answer was that the previous season was really bad for the club both, in terms of injury and finances, and that they had to cut the cost when it came to everything, including staffing. 

“Ada!” a boy’s scream rang out over the classical music they played, making Aida look up from where she was standing, and observing her pointy loafers and tiny specks of water residue from the drizzle of rain she caught on the way from the parking lot to the party.

Aida’s eyes connected with the small boy, dressed in a mini version of the official Arsenal FC suit as he ran towards her - his curly and unruly hair giving him a few extra inches in height. Despite feeling anxious and a bit sad, Aida smiled greatly at him, crouching down to his level before catching him in a tight embrace. Over his shoulder, she noticed his mother Alysha giving her an apologetic smile, but with a small nod, Aida reassured her that it was okay. She spent a lot of time with the boy on more than one occasion - in fact,  whenever Pierre-Emerick brought him to the centre, Pierre Jr. spent half of his time, sitting behind Aida’s desk as he talked in delight about his favorite cartoons and toys. 

“My God, look at you! You are so handsome tonight,” Aida mused and the boy giggled, embracing her once again, silently asking her to lift him up, and Aida obliged. Letting out a puff of air, she straightened up with the boy in her arms - it always surprised her to learn that he was heavier than he looked. With a smirk, she pulled at this red tie jokingly. “Has your daddy helped you with your tie?” she asked, tickling his stomach.

Pierre Jr. let out a loud cackle, squirming in her arms. “No, it was mamie. She also tied daddy’s.” Aida smiled at the boy’s mix of using French and English words, but as soon as the boy started telling her something about minions, Aida, as much as she hated to admit, stopped listening. 

The fact that she was going to be without a job occupied her brain and wasn’t something she was able to push away easily. Where did it go wrong? Obviously, like everyone else, she had her fair share of personal problems over the year, but she managed to keep them away from work - being nothing but professional and friendly the entire time. Aida always tried to give her best, treating everyone with nothing but respect, and even ran a couple of successful campaigns with the fans touring the grounds, but it was all in vain. 

Aida loved the club and being part of it. She loved the mornings when she would be one of the first to arrive, she loved that cup of coffee with Simone in the empty canteen, listening to all the anecdotes that happened since the older lady started working in the kitchen, fifteen years ago. Aida enjoyed the silly banter with footballers and the staff - heck, she even liked when Granit mispronounced her name and she had to correct him every day. She experienced so many nice moments during the past fourteen months and it felt so strange knowing that soon enough those moments will just be a nice memory.

“—so I told Curtys to stop hitting me with the pillow, but he didn’t. So I ate his hobnobs.”

Aida blinked quickly, reverting back to the reality from her thoughts and looked down at the little boy who was proudly explaining his hobnob revenge on his older brother. 

“Great job,” she answered, ruffling the boy’s hair before looking away from his glinting eyes and cheesy grin. Various groups of people mingled around her, and Aida moved her gaze across the room. Manager Arteta was talking to the club president while Claudia, the girl that was going to take her job along with being Arteta’s assistant was chatting excitedly with Naomi from PR. Everyone seemed to be in a better mood than she was, and Aida hated it. 

“Papa!” Pierre Jr. cried out happily and Aida followed his gaze. She spotted Pierre-Emerick, surrounded with some of the teammates and their significant others. 

“Do you want to go there?” Aida asked softly. Pierre Jr. nodded rapidly, and Aida craddled him before making her way through the well-dressed crowd.

**

Héctor Bellerín wasn’t exactly a man of few words, and everyone who knew him privately, knew that fact. The young Spaniard with an extraordinary London cockney accent loved to talk, appreciated a silly joke and banter, but also enjoyed discussing serious subjects and matters at any given opportunity. He was no stranger to a good book or a documentary, but also loved playing CoD with his teammates and just chill around his house. 

He considered himself polite, trying to treat everyone with respect, and most of the time he kept his cool - except that one time with Richarlison, but the lad deserved it. Yet, despite it all, the behavior of the girl behind the reception desk, for some reason, annoyed the shit out of him.

Héctor found her behavior tiring and utterly insincere. Ever since she started working, she would greet him with that smile that couldn’t have been a real one, asking him about the weather - day in and day out. It tired him to the point that he just decided to ignore her. 

On the other hand, he didn’t think that there was something wrong with her - moreover, he did agree with some of his teammates the first week she started working that she was actually pretty, but after another few weeks, her “eager beaver” behavior became a huge turn off. To Héctor, she seemed to be a type of girl that had no rest nor knew how and when to keep it down, and in his head, he used to paint this picture of her where she is making cupcakes every day, talking to fluffy animals and farting rainbows.

So, when she approached their group at the party, wearing a teal-coloured dress that wasn’t really a proper fit for her height or body type, carrying Aubameyang’s son in her arms, he waited for that bubble of overbearing happiness to burst in front of them. 

But it never did.

Instead, she greeted everyone with a short “hello” before reaching the little boy back to his father. “I apologise for interrupting your fun, but the best dressed man in this room wanted to go back to his daddy.”

“Excuse me—” Calum started, clearing his throat loudly as he smoothed down his tie. “What about us? We look decent as well, no?” 

His hand went towards Héctor’s shoulder, brushing the invisible dust from Héctor’s suit. 

Héctor swatted his hand away. 

“You look good too,” she replied, followed by a brief silence as Héctor took a sip of water, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. 

Wasn’t she a walking chatterbox? 

Has she already asked about Calum’s mother's wellbeing?

“Only good?” Alexandre pressed, but she sighed in defeat. 

“Well, I hope you enjoy your evening…” she trailed off, breaking the banter that his teammates started. “I have to go back to—” she bit her lip, looking behind her shoulder, “—I have some stuff to do.”

Only a few seconds later, Héctor watched her walk away through the crowd of men dressed in black suits and red ties. 

Part II

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 13

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 3.5k

warnings: foul language, implied sexual assault, mentions of trauma and mental illness

description: Yang Jeongin, the only living witness of the Miroh Heights Murders, is finally awake, casting a new shadow of possibilities onto the entire investigation. Han Jisung knows deep down there’s only one place left to go,  and takes his chances with a familiar blond detective -- but they find that where chances are given, lives may be taken away.

watch the trailer here!

13| give and take.

They say when you have a close brush with death, you see your life flash before your eyes.

Jeongin supposed there was some truth to that. One moment he had been squinting at the golden-haired boy in the darkness; the next he had found himself collapsed against the forest floor. The sky had spun above him like a broken kaleidoscope, until the unbearably hot throbbing in his head had finally forced his eyes shut. He had felt the strength seeping from his limbs, like blood being drained from livestock, and had let the numbness wash over him like an icy tidal wave.

That was when Jeongin’s life had flashed behind his closed eyelids — choppy flashes of memories and people’s voices, warped and dizzying. 

“Life in prison?” Jeongin’s own voice sounded tinny in his ears, and his father gave him a sad smile on the other side of the plexiglass. “B-but all you did was—”

“A man lost his life because of me,” his father spoke slowly, eyes steady on Jeongin’s distraught face. Slow, steady, careful. Kind. That was how Jeongin had always known his father — a gentle man who wouldn’t hurt a fly — yet now he was sitting across from him in an inmate’s uniform, handcuffs locked tight around his wrists. 

“But he—he hurt Mum first,” Jeongin whispered, barely able to push the words out of his throat. “He—you said he—”

“He did.” His father’s face had darkened, his normally soft jaw clenched. “I...lost it, and what happened to him was what that bastard deserved — but nothing changes the fact that I...killed him.” He let out a deep, weary sigh, and Jeongin was suddenly struck by how much older his father looked. “He got his punishment for his sins one way, and now I’m paying for mine. It’s as simple as that, my boy.”

The buzzer sounded and the door behind him clicked open, a stone-faced officer stepping into the room as his father stood. “Take good care of your mother, would you?”

“Dad, if—” Jeongin’s shaking voice made his father turn back around. The question was odd, but it had been burning at the back of his mind since the beginning of the visit. “If you—had the chance to go back. Would you still have...done it?”

Silence fell between father and son like a curtain. His father inhaled deeply, raising his eyebrows before meeting his son’s eyes again. “I don’t doubt it,” he finally replied, voice soft. “What could I do? It was for someone I loved.”

From then on, Jeongin’s mother had spent the better years of her life working whatever job she could find, and the two of them lived off minimum wage and money sent by estranged relatives — until the poor woman had finally fallen ill. No one would hire a sickly old woman — especially not one that had been involved in a sexual assault case, all those years ago.

That was why Jeongin worked with four different delivery companies at a time; that was what he could never bring himself to tell Hyunjin or you. Work four jobs, graduate, and make proper money to pay his mother’s hospital bills, to dig himself out of the poverty he’d known his entire life. Yang Jeongin’s one-way, masterplan. Until…

The coma.

He had become almost comfortably numb, like a body submerged in the middle of a pond — yet occasionally, something would pull him above the surface, even if just for a brief moment. A voice, a pressure, a light. It was almost always Hyunjin, the soft-hearted barista talking to him about his day as if Jeongin had simply sat down to chat in Glow Cafe, not rendered immobile and unresponsive by a concussion. Sometimes, though, the older boy would be crying, silent sobs shaking his lean frame until he was so exhausted he’d fall asleep by Jeongin’s side. And Jeongin wanted nothing more than to reach out to reassure him, to pull his friend into a hug, but he couldn’t will his body to move no matter how hard he tried.

Until now.

An incessant high-pitched beeping was growing louder and louder, the tips of his fingers prickling. Jeongin’s heartbeat surged into his temples, pounding against his eardrums like fists demanding entry. The darkness behind his eyelids was shifting, pinpricks of light poking their way in — and like a breath of air had been knocked straight into his lungs, Jeongin felt his entire body lurch forward and his eyes shot open.

For several seconds he could only take deep, gasping breaths, obsessed with just the feeling of it all, vaguely registering the inhaler pressed against his mouth. His eyes were still adjusting, flashes of white light and black stars painting his blurry vision. There were shouts from all around him, a deep rumbling as everything seemed to shake.

It was as if the entire sky was falling above him, he thought vaguely.

He blinked, hard, and his vision finally focused, the incongruous voices and sounds growing clearer. The incessant beeping had been the heart monitor by his cot, keeping in time with his gasping breathing. And the yelling was coming from none other than Hwang Hyunjin, whose dark hazel eyes were wide with disbelief and already brimming with tears of shock.

“J-Jeongin? He’s — he’s awake,” the taller boy nearly tripped getting to his feet, yanking aside the curtains and disappearing from Jeongin’s sight. “He’s awake!”

Jeongin winced, a throbbing pressure beginning to press at his skull. His fingers twitched twice and he flexed them gingerly. Suddenly remembering, his hands weakly scrabbled for his pockets, desperately feeling for a familiar metal box but coming back empty. 

His Walkman was gone.

The deep rumbling passed by him again and he realised it was the sound of carts full of medical equipment speeding across the halls — like there had been yet another emergency. Jeongin could only make out some of what the hospital staff were saying as they rushed past.

“Stab wound to the chest...brought her in...no sight of him.”

Jagged fragments of his memory were coming back to him, the empty feeling in his chest beginning to fill with a sinking sense of dread. The strange boy. A dismembered corpse.

What on earth happened while I was out?

━━━━━━━━ 

Run.

Jisung’s feet slammed into the pavement, puddles splashing cold rainwater onto his bloodstained jeans.

“He’s a runner, that’s what he is.”

His chest was burning, ribs feeling as if they were closing in on his lungs. He could still feel your warm body pressed against his, widened eyes fluttering shut as he could only watch in horror. With strength Jisung didn’t know he had left, he had carried you in his arms and bolted into the alley just as the police had turned into the diner’s back lot. The hospital was only a block away. He had burst into the lobby, nearly collapsing as he shouted for someone, anyone to help — and nearby, stunned doctors had loaded you onto an empty gurney before whisking you into the emergency room. Once they returned, Jisung was long gone.

“You ran away from her, too, yeah?”

The gang’s taunting voices echoed in his head, the sky rumbling above him — just like how his father’s voice had always rumbled, shaking the thin walls of his childhood home. And now, Jisung was ten years old all over again, clutching his camcorder in his bloodstained hands.

There had been a fine layer of dust coating the dented metal when Jisung had seized it from his dorm closet. Just touching the metal made his hands slippery with cold sweat, but he forced himself to grip it harder, counting the memory cards before he took off. Running, one last time.

“Try running now, Han.”

He wasn’t running away.

If he wanted to reverse the horrible things he’d done, there was only one place left to go.

“Han Jisung, always running away.”

“Not this time,” Jisung breathed through gritted teeth, almost welcoming the way the falling rain burned at his eyes and nostrils. “Not anymore.”

━━━━━━━━

Bang Chan didn’t realize how long he had been pacing the room until his feet began to ache in protest.

The detective hadn’t left the police precinct since Woojin had called him over, the pair pulling out files and chasing leads from dawn till dusk. Kim Seungmin had popped in for several hours before he had been called back to the law office. The moon had come and gone, until telltale sirens sounded not long after noon, and Woojin was called onto the scene of yet another emergency.

Another hour or so had passed since then, and Chan was replaying the same conversation with the police chief over and over in his head.

“I didn’t want to believe it, Chan, but from the beginning I had this—this feeling—”

“A hunch,” Chan finished, and when the police chief looked hesitant, Chan continued, “is almost always based on something more concrete, whether you know it or not. Something familiar, or strange. We’ve hit all the dead ends; a hunch is one of the better things we can hope for right now.”

Woojin exhaled, then spoke slowly. “The victims’ backgrounds, how they’ve all had pasts connected to abuse, or adultery. Not to mention the modus operandi that stood out the most — you remember the fire, and numerous counts of brute force.”

“I thought something was familiar, too,” Seungmin had interjected, his brow furrowing. “I studied this...case back in law school — a shotgun marriage, their young son growing up in an abusive household, until one day —”

“The house went up in flames,” Woojin finished, nodding. “It’s the same case, the most infamous amongst domestic abuse cases in Miroh Heights. The names were withheld for privacy reasons. Though the case was closed over a decade ago...the accuracy of the final verdict, and the true events that transpired that night, are still unknown.”

“Victims of cold cases often reappear as suspicious persons,” Chan muttered. “It’s a reach, but if you look at the similarities...”

“We’ve been blindsided this entire time,” Seungmin said slowly, his fingers raking through his hair. “Not a substance abuser, quite possibly not a cold-blooded killer.” He looked up at Woojin, whose brow was furrowed in deep thought. “So if your hunch is correct, then—”

“This is the aftereffect of a cold domestic violence case from over a decade ago,” the young police chief said firmly, eyes flickering up to Chan. “And we can’t afford to let it slip away again.”

Something had been pricking at the back of the detective’s head since Woojin had begun talking — no, far before he had even arrived at the police station. Chan had always been known for having a quick mind; it was one of the things that separated him from other, more mediocre detectives in his field — but this time, something was blocking him from reaching the final conclusion. He didn’t lack evidence; there were no flaws in his logic. It was the horrible feeling of familiarity that made him choke, that forced him to hesitate. Because he knew this case, he had seen it before.

“And it’s not a reach, Detective,” Woojin continued, voice gentle but eyes firm. “Because I believe you know the story yourself.”

Seungmin turned towards Chan, eyes questioning. The detective shook his empty coffee cup in his hands, eyes skirting over the countless case files and papers they had been sifting through for hours.

“The perpetrator is—”

A blond boy burst into the dimly lit room, breathing so hard Chan thought he was about to have a stroke. It didn’t take longer than a second for the detective to recognise him.

“Han Jisung,” Chan finished the flashback aloud, the name hanging in the tense air. His eyes scanned the shaking boy from head to toe, a cold feeling running down his spine. He wasn’t even trying to hide the blood soaking his clothes and skin, Chan thought numbly. This was his friend, someone he’d always looked at like a little brother—but he had seen, solved too many of these cases not to recognise the stricken look on Jisung’s pale face.

This was the shell of a man who had just lost everything.

“What brings you here?” Chan asked, watching him carefully. The same tousled golden hair, he noted, pushing down a pang in his chest; the same boyish round cheeks, although there was a smattering of bruises and cuts across them now. 

“You told me I—I could talk to you or Woojin. Anytime.” Jisung’s voice faltered, wiping at his face as if to clear away some of the muck, but the dried blood on his palms only smeared more across his jaw. He looked like a lost dog, a stray that had turned up on the nearest warm doorstep and was watching him with almost apologetic, apprehensive eyes.

Chan set down his notebook, nodding slowly. “That I did,” he finally replied, glancing back up at the younger boy before pulling out two chairs. “Woojin got called to a scene, though. You okay if I listen for now?”

Jisung felt a flood of indescribable emotions wash over him. The same twist in his gut he had felt back at the 3rd Eye, when the Chan had pulled him close and asked if he was okay. 

I’ll listen. 

That was more than anyone had ever offered him since the incident thirteen years ago. The therapists, the police, the social workers — all they had ever wanted was for him to listen to them, to heed their advice and bury his past behind him.

Other than you, of course. The memory of your fading eyes burning into his own shook him back to the present. 

“I think you know, Chan,” Jisung said softly, marking the way the detective was warily scanning the blood covering him from head to toe; the dishevelled look Jisung must have had on his face.

“I have a hunch,” was the detective’s reply. He sounded as if he were repeating someone else’s words, but his voice was steady as it had ever been. “But you’re going to need to help me on this one, kiddo.”

Jisung met the older boy’s eyes — Chan’s always tired but unfailingly kind eyes, always willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe that was what made him such a meticulous detective, respected by criminals and citizens alike — never jumping to conclusions, always seeing a problem out till the end. The detective’s gaze dropped to the silver camcorder in Jisung’s hands. 

“You used to carry that around everywhere you went, I remember. Never showed anyone what you’d film, though.”

“Do you have...anything that can play memory cards?” Jisung swallowed a painful lump in his throat. “I need to—show you. Now.”

Wordlessly, Chan moved his laptop over on the table, and made the younger boy take a seat next to him.

Jisung had always thought his past was something to be kept buried — below the ashes of his childhood home, or six feet under his mother’s grave, or bottled deep within his chest. That no one would ever truly know — would want to know — what had happened that day, let alone what had been happening for the years leading up to that day. And yet, for the second time in two days, he was sat next to someone who, to his surprise, didn’t make him want to run. Someone he was willing to take the risk of revealing the darkest parts of himself with. 

For the next hour, Chan watched the footage in silence, from the very first Christmas to the day Jisung’s father’s mistress had pressed burning cigarettes into his bare skin. From the fateful day their entire home was brought to the ground with alcohol and fire at the hands of a ten year old boy, and to the choppy records from the years that followed. Jisung had taped his encounters with the incompetent officers and dismissive social workers at the police station, and the mandatory therapy sessions they had subjected him to. He had taped the kidnapping, and his years at the children’s home with Minho. 

He had not taped any of the killings.

Chan sat through it all, reliving Jisung’s nightmares the way the younger boy had every night for the past thirteen years, an ugly childhood told through the fisheye lens of an old camcorder. By the time the last tape had finished, the detective had not moved, but Jisung knew him well enough to catch the tension in his jaw, the shaken look in his normally bright eyes. 

“You were the cold case,” Chan finally said, a long exhale leaving his now-dry lips. “From thirteen years ago. The one they couldn’t solve, and swept under the rug.”

Jisung didn’t respond, too busy forcing every inch of his body to remain still — to not stand and sprint out of the room, out of the police station he had been avoiding his entire life.

“Why are you telling me this?” The detective asked, turning his body to face the younger boy.

“Because I—I killed—all those people,” Jisung wove his hand towards the files Chan had splayed onto the desk, the headshots of victims lying at the very top. The words were heavier than weights in his mouth, and and the truth of it all tasted more bitter than poison. “And then I—I couldn’t stop. I sound insane, I know I do. I know I p-probably am. They were—flashes at first. Triggers, seizures that went too far. And soon it became like--like an impulse, until I started blacking out completely—” Jisung’s breathing caught up to him and he choked, but he managed to force the last words out. “And today, I...hurt...y/n.” He saw the alarm flash across Chan’s eyes. “The last person who made me hope...made me want to hope that life was worth living, after all.”

He sounded insane.

He sounded like a serial killer trying to make excuses for something inexcusable.

He sounded like a monster.

“You sound like you’ve been through a lot.” Chan’s voice made Jisung look up from his shoes. The soft look in his eyes was back, and though a bit of the blood had drained from his face, the warmth in his voice had never left. “Thank you. For telling me.”

That was the final blow.

“S-stop. Don’t—say that,” Jisung could feel his voice breaking, the tears burning at his throat. “Chan, you have to turn me in, make them give me the death penalty, I-I—”

“Han Jisung.” The detective’s voice was stern, his normally gentle eyes narrowed. “You turned yourself in. The case from thirteen years ago needs to be reopened, and all the factors reinvestigated to be fairly taken into account. You do not deserve the death penalty.”

Jisung was shaking his head numbly, lips unable to form protests as the detective continued, a blazing look in his eyes Jisung had never seen before. “You’re not gonna be a martyr now, you hear? Han Jisung, you’ve been hurt by everyone else your whole damn life. I’m not about to let you hurt yourself.”

There it was again. That feeling of unfamiliar warmth aching deep in his chest, like an old bruise being pressed into. Before Jisung could speak, a slow, sarcastic clapping echoing through the room made both of them raise their heads and turn in alarm.

Prosecutor Kang pushed the door aside, eyebrows raised in amusement and mock sympathy. 

“What are—you can’t—” Chan leapt up from his seat, but Kang only looked more amused as he looked over his shoulder at the open doorway, where a huddle of prosecutors and police officers alike were gathered with expressions of horror. Seungmin was among them, his face white.

“You all heard him, didn’t you? Detain the murderer.” Kang smiled triumphantly as the officers surrounded Jisung, seizing his arms so roughly he felt like they were being pulled from their sockets. 

Chan looked livid, eyes darting wildly between the officers and Prosecutor Kang. “Let him go. Keep him in the precinct until Woojin comes back, Kang,” he protested, but the older prosecutor only sneered.

“Detective Bang, aren’t you overstepping your boundaries? Wait for Kim Woojin? Don’t forget—” Kang took a step closer to Chan, eyes narrowing. “Personal relations with the perpetrator cannot participate in the investigation.”

Chan felt his gut twist, scanning the whitened expressions on the surrounding staff’s faces. How much had they seen, overheard? Kang watched the detective’s eyes flicker momentarily, and laughed.

“Besides,” he continued, “I’d say it’s time the prosecution did its part.” He shot a meaningful glance at Seungmin, who had been glaring between Jisung, Chan, and Kang with his fists clenched. Kang clicked his tongue, sighing. “Kim Seungmin, Kim Seungmin — I can’t believe I have to do your dirty work.”

Chan’s mind was reeling, all options coming back blank. This was the District 9 Precinct, and as a homicidal detective, he had no power over Woojin’s men. In fact, after what Kang had said, Chan wasn’t even sure if Woojin had power over Woojin’s men anymore. You fucked up, Bang. You fucked up bad.

Chan risked a glance at Jisung’s face and immediately regretted it. What he saw had no traces of anger, no more hate, no signs of struggle. His eyes were wide and dark, as if the boy had shut down completely. Kang scoffed at the detective’s sudden silence, turning on his heel and motioning towards the officers. 

Chan could only watch helplessly as Jisung was dragged out of the room like a limp doll, his once-rounded cheeks still shining with blood and fresh tears.

[project-rosewood-476]

Chapter 2 part 2 Of Every Rose Has Its Thorns is out now! the AU and some of the ideas and characters belong to @creepypasta-shtick and Maplehood Creek, Rosewood, and Tabby Anderson belong to me.

TW: character death, mentions of blood and gore

She walked out the front door and waited for Toby. Toby followed her out and led her out of the building. Tabby followed him out of the building and she kept her head down low and her hands in her pockets. She didn't dare make any eye contact for too long and she was quiet.

There were already a lot of people outside. Toby heard something.

"Go after that human!"

Toby looked around and saw a small figure darting through the crowd as more and more monsters gathered to watch.

"KILL IT!" Another monster shrieked.

Toby saw the figure dart into an ally and watched a harassed looking proxy going after the human. Ah. A runt being made to chase the human down. Hm.

Tabby snapped her head up and her eyes were wide alert. Toby was facing her so she turned around and got into a fighting stance to attempt to protect him and herself. She was about ready to grab her knives that she had on her. But once she realized that it wasn't for her she let out a quiet sigh in relief. And dropped her defensive posture. But she was still alert just in case.

Toby watched the young proxy attempt to capture the human, then the crowd blocked his view. He shrugged.

"We might as well just go." He said to Tabby. "The library is a couple blocks away from here." He said. He had no interest in trying to watch.

She nodded not saying anything. It was none of her business and curiosity does indeed kill the cat from Tabby's life experiences so far. She went back to keeping her head down and putting her hands in her pockets. She quickly walked away to keep up with Toby and to get away from the scene.

Toby heard whoops in the distance, then groans. Seems like that will take awhile. He sighed.

"Humans sometimes accidentally find portals down here." He explained.

"Makes sense", she said quietly, still not looking up.

That just added on to her anxieties. What if her little brother were to accidentally show up? He was only 7. He would never survive this place nor would she want him to know what she and the others do here for a living.

Toby nodded. They soon arrived at a very tall, somewhat circular building. The door seemed somewhat disproportionate to the size of the building. Toby began to climb up the stairs. This was the library.

Tabby let out a quiet "oh" in awe. She quickly climbed up the stairs.

Toby opened the door for her. The inside of the library was cold, and it was somewhat dark.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She scurried inside and felt a little more relaxed once the cool air hit her. She took in a deep breath and smelled the familiar smell of a library. She let out a sigh of nostalgia as her eyes got used to the darkness. She saw circular shelves of books one outside another. And they were so high that there was a ladder for those that can't reach the top. Toby followed behind her. The library was blissfully quiet. He saw a few people scattered around but none of them were bothering anyone. Secretly she was fangirling inside as this is what her dream library would be basically. She began to look around for the plant books. Looking up and around at everything practically almost breaking her neck in doing so. Toby let her look around. He saw an old friend of his so he went to go chat with him. A librarian was nearby, quietly hovering by a bookshelf. Tabby grabbed a couple of each. She grabbed two books on edible and poisonous plants. That would be good if she had missions that left her stranded in the woods somewhere. And a couple of books on the plants here and their medical uses which would be good for her since she doesn't trust doctors and would have to take care of her own serious wounds if she got injured. Then she explored a little more avoiding the people like they are the plague. There were a couple of human authors here that she liked and there were other books that she made a mental note of that she might like that she didn't know of. But she wasn't sure how many books she could take out at once. So she just stuck with the books that she planned to take out.

Toby sat next to his friend. EJ glanced up, sensing him here.

"Oh, good morning, Toby."

"Hey Jack. Whatcha up to?"

"Oh, I'm just taking a break from my work. I got Kate to cover my wing of the med bay today so I could spend some time in here."

"How are you reading the books with no eyes?" Toby asked curiously.

"I can just...feel the letters." EJ said.

Toby shook his head with a smile.

"You were always kind of weird."

"Why thank you." EJ said with a laugh.

The two continued to chat. EJ was telling him about another malus that he knew that was opening up a restaurant nearby.

Once Tabby was done looking around she went to what she assumed to be a check out counter and waited patiently. She quickly looked up to make sure that Toby didn't leave her. She saw him near by and saw that he was talking to a guy in a blue mask that appeared to have no eyes. She quickly looked down. Toby and EJ continued to chat. Toby had fond memories of EJ. EJ had been doing what he did since childhood. As a malus, he was raised in this world. EJ had taken a bit of care with Toby when Toby was new. He had shown Toby the ropes and taught him different ways to stalk people and how to get around in the pitch black effectively. He was a good dude. A tall librarian passed them, heading towards Tabby. Tabby stood up straight and shifted her weight uncomfortably. She looked up but not for too long. The librarian stopped in front of her, and pointed her to the self checkout line. You didn't need a card here. You could use your fingerprint or leave something as collateral. Tabby let out a silent 'oh'. She nodded her head and said a quiet 'thank you' to the librarian and went to try to figure out this process. She mentally cringed at herself at how godawful awkward she was being in front of Toby and his friend. It didn't matter if this was her first time it was still cringey and awkward. She figured out the process and used her fingerprint as she was now registered in the library. She held her books close to her chest and continued to look down and walked over towards Toby. Toby didn't care. He knew that it was awkward learning how to do things here. He knew other would've made fun of her but he saw no point in it. As for EJ, he was totally blind. He had no idea. Toby saw her approaching and smiled.

"Oh, hi Tabby. This is Eyeless Jack. EJ for short."

"Just Jack also works." EJ said.

"Hello. It's nice to meet you" she said politely.

She turned to Toby. "I got the books I needed"

EJ nodded and turned back to feeling the book with his fingers.

Toby smiled. "Awesome." He said.

He got up. "You probably want to leave now?"

"You can still do whatever you're doing I can wait" she said looking down.

She was referring to letting Toby finish up his conversation with EJ.

Toby thanked her, and sat back down to continue chatting with EJ.

Tabby sat down a couple of benches over not wanting to be rude and eavesdrop on the conversation. She began to read one of her books. Toby learned that EJ was about to he sent out on a largely lucrative mission. He would be set for awhile. It sounded very tempting too. It was going to be a group thing. Tabby lost herself in the book. She's always been book smart because she loved to learn everything and anything that she could that wouldn't get herself killed. Toby noted that she was pretty engrossed so he just let her read. EJ let slip that the boss was looking for a group of proxies to do it with him, since part of it was infiltrating a school and he obviously couldn't do that. Tabby continued reading. She was in her favorite reading position. Back against the corner, leaning against the wall and having her legs curled up. Toby eventually finished up his conversation and headed over to Tabby to ask if she still wanted to be shown around. Tabby nodded and closed her book and got up. Toby grinned.

"Awesome." He said.

He was honestly a little excited to show her around.

Tabby was smiling stupidly at Toby being excited but thank god he couldn't see under her mask. She followed behind him and said goodbye to the desk person and walked out the door. Toby led her out towards Tabby was honestly excited. This was the first time she's had total freedom before. Sure she was still suspicious and wary of everyone and everything around her. And she was still concerned with surviving another day in this new world. But with Toby leading her and she herself looking around her surroundings. She realized that she was having some sort of fun. And it brought a sense of peace for now. It's been a while since she's had either.

The street. Just ahead of them on the other side was what seemed to be some sort of marketplace. Toby knew that she would probably be okay as she had a mask on. No one really messed with proxies, at least, not in this public of a setting. He led her across the street and to the market place.

"This is sort of like what humans would call a farmer's market." Toby explained to Tabby.

One old, squat green woman was next to a cart of strange, berry-like orbs that pulsated and glowed. A tall creature with hulking claws and sharp teeth was next to a booth where Toby could hear meowing and barking. A proxy woman with a pale blue mask was standing next to a cart with jewelry displayed. Toby knew that woman was a member of the WPA and that that jewelry probably wasn't all that it seemed. A man with pointy ears and a long tail was obviously some type of snack vendor. There were even more booths and carts than Toby could see.

She looked at Toby. Although he did spare her life and was so nice to her. She wanted to start trusting him little by little and maybe just maybe have him considered as...a friend. She looked away and shook her head. There's no way that she could possibly move on. Not when she still has to avenge her friends and moving on equates to forgetting to her. And she promised herself that she wouldn't forget. Besides he was a killer he really shouldn't be trusted. He could easily kill her at anytime. She looked at him as he was explaining the supermarket to her. Perhaps under different circumstances and in another place in time. They would have been the best of friends. Definitely would have tied for first place with Autumn.

She nodded her head eagerly in understanding.

"it's definitely livelier than the human ones. Sometimes my mom would take me to them in the summer and falls. Since that's when they're open. She liked to look around and attempts to cook with fresh foods. I accidentally got free food from there once", Tabby explained a little excitedly.

Toby nodded and smiled. He had never been to a farmer's market as a human but Hoodie had told him what it was like. Toby continued to lead her through the stalls, pointing out things he knew. He pointed at the squat woman with the orbs.

"She's selling Tethered, which are kind of pets? I think they're more similar to familiars but I'm not sure. They're really good for neutralizing anxiety and also some will kill people who threaten you. Jeff has one named Smile”.

He pointed at another creature.

"He sells pets. Mainly just cats and dogs but I think he has a few birds. Mostly pigeons though."

They passed by the woman with the jewelry, where another sign said 'CONCEALED WEAPONRY. ASK FOR DETALS'. The snack vendor was selling some odd looking food. Toby grimaced. The monster was probably a cannibal. They passed someone selling dried plants and herbs. They passed Bloody Painter selling his art. There were tricks and laughter and even some games being played. One booth sold cursed items. Another sold weapons, but not just standard knives. One woman was selling psychic services. There were so many things to do. Toby was a little overwhelmed with it all but he did his best not to show it.

"There's clothes too I think."

Tabby looked around her anxiety was picking up. She occasionally fidgeted with her shirt before catching herself and smoothening it out before picking back up on the habit again. There was just too many people there for both of their tastes. She could tell he was getting a little anxious too since she is the queen of anxiety. There was somethings she would have liked to try and buy but she didn't want to bother Toby so she stayed silent for awhile

"There's a lot of things to do here...I can't wait until I get my own money".

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a water color painting by the bloody painter. It started out as a campfire then the embers turned into birds and then the birds turned into stars in the galaxy looking sky. Transitional paintings as Autumn would call them. What made her stopped dead in her tracks was that it was Autumns favorite medium to work with and that was exactly the tattoo she described that she wanted when she turned 18. She died before then. Tabby's eyes showed a mixture of sadness, pain and nostalgia.

Toby turned to check on her and could see that she was hurt. He decided to not push it as it was probably personal. He decided to try to just talk to her about something else.

"Jack was telling me about a long mission that he was going to go on, and that he needed proxies to go with him." He said with a shrug. "I was thinking of volunteering. Would you like to go too? It would be field training, very good pay, and a way to get to know other proxies you may work with in the future."

Tabby shook her head to get rid of the memories. She looked at Toby with a confused expression for a moment before processing what he just said. She looked at him unsurely.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea...but training has to start somewhere I guess...I won't get anywhere if I do nothing..."

"What's the mission exactly?" She looked at him suspiciously.

"It's an infiltration mission." Toby explained.

"Infiltrating a school." He said.

"It would be for about a half a year or so? But we would be given an allowance and a house to stay in while we're there. Since you and I look young, we would be the infiltrators. If we go, Masky and Hoodie probably would too. I think they might pretend to be married and our parents." Toby smiled. That would be fun.

Tabby gave him a funny weird look.

"That would make siblings...for the mission I mean" she giggled.

"I never had a decent older brother before...you'd be much better than my other one" she stopped abruptly and mentally cursed herself again that she gave out too much information. She wouldn't drag her family into this, especially her little brother Adam. She had a more serious look to her.

Wait which school?..." she hoped that it wasn't what she thought it was.

Toby smiled at her.

"I'll do my best to be a decent brother." He joked.

He thought for a bit and realized he didn't necessarily know which school it was, only that there was a target within the school.

She laughed.

"I'll think about it" she said thoughtfully.

"If the school was Rosewood or the Maplehood Creek school system. I really can't go back there as I've been missing for two days now so people are probably looking. Courtesy from the police. And that would put the team at risk and I'm not having that. However I can tell you the best ways to sneak in and out. And pointers on what to do and who you should stay away from. Even though he's a measly human compare to you I don't want to take any chances he has a way of getting into your head", she said and became more quiet after mentioning Horacio.

She really wouldn't mind if Horacio was the target. Finally the bastard has what's coming to him. All she would ask for is let her do the kill. However what if it's not? What if it's a child? Specifically her little brother. That thought spiked her anxiety as she picked back up the habit of fidgeting with her shirt again

"Hey I got a few questions".

"Well, if it is in that school district, then I'm sure we could find a way to disguise you. We have our ways." Toby smiled.

"Monsters who don't want to work with proxies have these pills that allows them to change their appearance." Toby explained.

"Though it really only works on non-mali monsters, so EJ can't use em." Toby knew EJ sold those pills however. Toby continued to walk.

"Hm?" He would answer any question to the best of his ability.

"Would it be possible to set up a bank account in the human world? Anonymously of course. Since we're getting paid for these missions. I promised myself that I would get this person out of Maplehood when they're old enough. But I'm here now so idk how that would work out and I don't want to be in trouble or drag them into my own mess. Also, would we get in trouble for killing someone on a mission when we're not ordered too? Because if it is Rosewood I know exactly who I need to go for”.

Toby looked a little confused.

"We have no real need for human money here. We earn our own currency here." He said.

"If we did, then this world would be flooded by international currencies and business is so much harder to do." He said.

"There are ways to get human money, but usually we trade in for it at our bank or we just steal cash from victims." He said.

"And no, we wouldn't get in trouble for killing if not ordered to. He said. "A lot of us go out killing for fun. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Ohh.." she said a little sadly at the first part. Then she'll just have to rely on Adam making the right choices then. "Good" she said at the second part.

"But in all actual seriousness if it is Rosewood. Stay away from Horacio at all costs if you can. Don't take anything from him, don't give anything to him, don't talk to him, and don't believe a word he says either. I don't care if he's human it's best to not take any chances. Rosewood isn't exactly a great place to be. It's a place to break your spirit and to become more broken than what a person is now." She spoke frantically but she stopped herself and took a couple of deep breaths to calm down.

Her tone became more cold and harsh "if he is the target all I ask is to leave him to me. I'll take care of him" there was like a cold anger, vicious, darker feel around her.

"However on a different note" her tone gradually left the coldness and harsher bite to it "and these are all ifs. I could show you which backroads to use to sneak around town and which spots are excellent hideouts" she added.

Toby nodded. He knew better than to fall for any sort of human nonsense. But then again. They had no idea if that school would even be Rosewood. He hoped it wouldn't be, though he assumed the school would be in a similar area. He was somewhat excited. He let EJ know over phone to contact Masky and see if they should do this mission. He never really experienced high school and would honestly love to. Tabby stayed quiet for some time. Just having time to mull over her thoughts. She took the time to observe Toby. It made her smile to see him excited about something even if it was subtle. She thought about it from his perspective. He told her that he's been homeschooled so for someone who's never been in a social school setting before she could understand why it would be exciting to him. Autumn would have loved having him around. He would have made a great addition to the dysfunctional family she used to have.

She finally spoke up "but whatever school it is. We'll figure out together as a team right?"

She sounded much more confident than she ever did or felt. And her tone had a hint of hope and optimism in it.

"Since Jane told me that proxies work in groups and it's normally with people that they work well with or semi trust" she added quickly and looked down and went back to being quiet.

"I just don't want to see you hurt and broken more than what you are...especially if it's Rosewood" she mumbled that was barely audible.

Toby nodded, eyes shining.

"Yeah! As a team." He said with a bright smile.

He liked that idea. He also figured the boss would put Tabby with their group anyways. He hadn't heard what she had mumbled. He saw a group of monster children playing on some sort of metal spiderweb. Toby suddenly felt a little anxious. Oh god. Going back to school. Would be be made fun of again? Would he be bullied again? His mind began to travel further and further down that path until he felt a sense of incredible calm wash over him. He saw, holding onto his wrist, a warm golden rope. Thread. Whatever. Seeing that he calmed down, the tendril loosened and pulled away. Toby looked around and saw The Puppeteer nearby. Ah. That was probably it.

Tabby laughed at his childishness. For a moment she had a mini flashback to when she and autumn were alone. Whether it was after school before she had to go home or when they would sneak out at night together. Tabby would go on her rants of stupidly hopeful optimistic childishness stuff. Autumn would smile and listened to her. Only with her and Toby the roles were in reverse. Tabby was playing the part of Autumn and Toby was playing the part of a younger and more hopeful version of Tabby.

She won't admit it to anyone ever especially to Toby. But her entire past and heart just melted away when he said 'yeah like a team'. The only team that she had was her friend group. She hasn't had that in a long time. Strangely enough she felt at peace with him and she had a glimmer of a future. Perhaps one with him in it?. She made another promise to herself that she would stay alive long enough to protect Toby from getting bullied at school for the mission. At whatever cost. For a moment and she made sure no one was looking she looked at him like he was the best thing in this world.

She looked over to where he was looking and saw a ghostly figure with golden strings. She then put two and two together "so that's the puppeteer" she said in thought in realization "maybe I'll go talk to him and see what's he about" she also said in thought

She spoke up after coming back from being lost in her thoughts "who was that guy with the golden strings?"

Toby smiled.

"That is The Puppeteer." He said.

The Puppeteer was pretty decent to know. Since he was a ghost, he didn't really have a home and he stayed with people, took away their negative feelings, and he was usually welcome. Toby would often see him around Bria- Hoodie. But at the moment, he was hanging around a short girl with a pale, crusty-looking mask. Oh. Kate. Kate wasn't wearing her med mask so she wasn't working. They seemed to be chatting with each other. Toby told Tabby about Kate.

"That's Kate, or the Chaser. She is a really good medic." He said. Kate was a brilliant proxy and a brilliant medic. She is one of the more prominent medics, specially trained by EJ. She keeps secrets well." He had great respect for Kate. She helped a friend of his out with a very...awkward situation.

"Interesting..." she mused to herself

"Although the idea is tempting I think I just have too much emotional baggage too the point where he can't take away all of it" she looked at Toby then at Kate distrustfully

"But I don't like doctors"

"Oh you'd be surprised how much he could take." Toby said with a laugh.

"And I know, I know. Kate doesn't treat people unless they ask or need it." Kate would refuse service too if people were assholes about it.

She gave a bitter chuckle "you don't know the half of what I've been through"

She gave a thoughtful look over to Kate "well that's good I guess"

Toby sighed.

"Pretty much everyone here who used to be human has been through some sort of hell here." He assured her.

Toby remembered a time when some monster was ranting to Kate, in her own med bay, about how useless she was. Kate had just stood up, and told him to get the hell out. Kate was very no-nonsense.

Tabby sighed and continued walking with him. The market place was getting busier and she didn't want to be left behind so she sped up her pace to catch up with him. Toby led her past carts with clothes and other things. Toby wondered if he should get some things, maybe a new coat or something. There were some things that he could use. Tabby saw and liked a lot of things but she didn't want to bother him and waste his own money. There were also free samples of food being given out. Tabby wanted to try some due to her curiosity but between her anxiety, paranoia and not knowing if the food was poisonous or not. She decided against it. Toby would have purchased her things if she would have asked. He was a good proxy after all; he wasn't broke or anything. He saw a juice sample being offered for free and thought it looked interesting so he got a free sample of it and sipped it. It was pretty good.

"Can I have a sample?", She asked shyly, "if it's not poisoned that is"

"Sure." Toby said.

He went and got her a sample as well.

"Poisons aren't really all that popular here but you can get something to test food for poison." He said.

"You can never be too safe", she said as she took the juice she sniffed it just to be sure.

"Smells good" she said in thought.

She took a sip "mmmm" she had a big smile on her face. It tasted like apples and berries.

"What is this exactly? And where can I get the food tester thing?".

Toby smiled.

"I think Nat makes the juice." He stated, finishing his sample.

"This is just juice. Non-alcoholic." He said.

"You can get the food testers at stores and some restaurants have single use ones." He said.

"This is good" she finished up the last of the juice.

"Let's go" she said excitedly ready to continue this adventure.

Toby smiled.

"Okay! Do you want to stay here or go somewhere else?" He asked.

"Let's try somewhere else", she said.

"Okay!" Toby continued to lead her along.

He was going to show her around a downtown area. Tabby stayed close to him so she wouldn't get lost. There was still enough personal space between them but with the occasional arm brushing up against the other's arm. Toby understood. It was whatever. The downtown area was much less crowded. It was very nice. There were shops, restaurants, and other places. They passed a pet shop. Tabby stopped dead in her tracks as she saw a black, white and orange kitten with a little tear in its ear. She immediately were up to the glass like she was drawn to it. The kitten was play fighting with the other kittens and then it came to playfully attack Tabby through the window but it bounced off and tumbled backwards a little. Tabby giggled. Toby smiled and let her stay and watch the cat. It was pretty cute. He knew this place treated the pets well. This place also was a vet place. He got Nugget's shots there.

She turned to him.

"I used to have an orange cat back where I used to live. Well he wasn't really mine he was a stray but he did follow me home a couple of times. But my apartment didn't allow pets. So after school I would spend time with him if my friends were too busy. His name is Mac which is short for mac and cheese."

For just a moment her eyes were full of child like wonder instead of there usual haunted, knowing, and troubled look that they usually had. For a moment she looked young and hopeful instead of her usual mature tough girl look.

Toby smiled.

"You want to go in and see the rest of the cats?" He offered.

They might as well. He knew Masky picked up shifts there when he wasn't busy. It was a nice place with decent staff and of course, lots of cute animals.

Tabby nodded excitedly "yeah!"

"That kitten in there is a rough and tumble troublemaker" she grinned.

Toby grinned, and led her inside. The place was loud, with the sounds of cats, dogs, birds, and other animals occupying the space. Tabby played and petted the puppies in their cages and talking to them before the said kitten jumped out of the display cage and padded over towards Tabby and headbutted her from behind to get her attention. She turned around "why hello there again troublemaker" she cooed at the kitten and picked it up and pet it with one hand and the puppies with the other. She was sitting down and was frantically trying to give each animal equal love and affection. Toby let her do so. He smiled. It was very nice to see her happy. He went to go check in the back where he found the old monster who ran this shop. He was a wrinkled grey creature with stringy silver hair. He had a cage with him and was examining a cat on the table. The old monster had specially made glasses for all six of his eyes. The lenses were thick. The cat was sleek and black, and seemed to be very chubby. The monster, who people just called Ed, was muttering to himself in a nasally voice as he looked over the cat. But in the end she had all of the cats on her as she was being smothered in kitty affection. She sighed in defeat.

Toby came over to check on her just as Ed brought out the new cat to put in a separate enclosure. Tabby was laying in defeat on the floors the herd of kittens were all over her. She looked up at Toby.

"I was ambushed".

Toby laughed.

"You were overwhelmed. There were too many of them."

"There's no such thing as too many. The problem here is that I don't have enough limbs"

She gently shook the kittens to get them off of her. She gently put them back in their display cage by the window.

"We could change that." Toby joked.

Ed was totally ignoring the two of them.

"You know, you could always work here between missions." He said. "For a little side cash, you know."

Tabby laughed.

"It would make multitasking easier" she joked back.

She tilted her head to the side, "I think I would like that".

Toby laughed.

"We can cut off some random human's arms and have EJ attach em to you." He joked some more.

"The only time I'll let any doctors near me" she joked back.

Toby laughed.

"Fair enough." He said.

"Where are we going now?", she asked.

"Hm. We could finish the downtown tour. I could take you to Nat's- sorry I mean Clockwork's- bar.".

"I'm old enough here to drink?" She tilted her head to the left as she often did when she was confused

"Then again I've been sneaking alcohol and playing bartender to the people I lived with since I was 12. I know how to mix drinks quite well".

Toby looked at her and laughed.

"This is literally a haven of killers, and you think there's a drinking age here?" He said.

"If you're under ten you can drink if your parents are with you, but that's the only restriction I've seen."

Tabby laughed and looked down.

"Fair enough" she shrugged her shoulders as she walked with Toby.

Toby led her down the street. It was pretty hot out. Tabby looked around at her surroundings. Although it was pretty hot out she didn't complain. Toby knew the bar was a couple of blocks down. He began to lead the way. Tabby stuck close to Toby. She kept her head down to avoid the other people. Toby understood. They passed by an alley and Toby heard the unmistakable sounds of someone getting beat up. Tabby heard the sounds too. She sucked in a breath as she physically cringed deeper into her jacket as she remembered her own beatings by her step dad and her fist fights with Horacio and others at Rosewood. Her entire body jerked as she felt the phantom pains of her past beatings. She walked quicker. Toby ignored it. This happened if you got too cocky. That was why it was good to have friends here. Masky told him to make sure everyone liked him so they wouldn't beat him. That's what Masky did and it worked. It took a couple of minutes before the phantom pain died down and a couple of more minutes for her to uncoil from her jacket and then pretended like nothing happened.

Toby soon saw the lights of the bar. Thank god. He made a beeline for the place. It was crowded but never uncomfortably so. Tabby followed him. She saw the lights and how crowded it is. She gulped as her social anxiety kicked in. It was pretty tame at the moment. Nat was tending to the bar. Others sat and talked amongst themselves. Tabby quietly looked around at her surroundings. There was still a lot of people but not as much as Tabby was expecting so her anxiety died down a little. The situation around her was pretty mellow so she didn't have to worry about either one of them getting into some sort of trouble. She relaxed a little. Toby asked her if she wanted to get a non-alcoholic drink. He figured that since it was so early, drinking alcohol wouldn't feel good. Sure some people day drank, but he didn't peg Tabby as the type to really want to. Quite a few of the patrons at the bar were drinking non-alcoholic drinks, or drinks with just a small amount.

"I'll have an alcoholic drink thank you very much", said Tabby.

Toby shrugged. Alrighty. That was fine with him. Tabby ordered some coconut rum mixed with Coca-Cola. Toby just got a soda. He didn't feel like drinking and never really drank a lot. Because Tabby is short her legs dangled off the ground as she was sitting on her bar stool. She looked around at the other people but was careful not to look for too long. Some looked normal, and others looked absolutely freakish. Their drinks were set in front of them. Toby sipped his soda. Tabby casually sipped her drink as she felt the familiar warmth rushing to her cheeks and ears. She hummed quietly as she felt somewhat content with having her a drink that reminded her of home somewhat. Toby did his best to limit his consumption of alcohol. He didn't want to end up like his dad. Nat was cleaning glasses behind the bar.

"So what do you normally do when you're not on missions and showing the new person around?", asked Tabby.

She cringed at herself internally at how awkward she was at conversation starters.

"Uh...well, I train, honestly. You really never stop learning. But when I have time for myself I do a lot of social stuff. Like come here.", said Toby awkwardly.

She tilted her head "makes sense. I like to learn a lot too. A wise person once told me that the more you know the less you have something to be afraid of. After all you can't be afraid of something if you know what that thing is" she said thoughtfully.

Toby smiled.

"Yeah, that's a good way of thinking about it." He said.

He took another sip of his drink right when his phone buzzed. Proxies had really crappy phones, usually burners, but Toby could receive texts. It was from Masky, saying that the Slenderman confirmed they could go on this mission and that they would leave in a couple of days. It would be good practice for Tabby. Tabby looked at his phone in a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Toby explained that they had been confirmed on the mission.

"So we're going then?" She asked.

She looked at herself weird "it's been awhile since I've used 'we' and 'us' terms. It's a nice change"

"Yeah, we are!" Toby said.

"And I'm guessing that since you're coming, the boss wants us in a group together." Toby seemed pretty excited at the concept.

Tabby genuinely smiled which gave a lopsided grin and gave her dimples and crinkles underneath her eyes.

"Better now than never I guess!" She was done with her drink.

Toby finished his up. He smiled. He then told her the name of the school.

"The school is called Greengrove High. It's near Rosewood, but it's not in either school district. It's a public school but has a small attendance rate."

She sighed in relief.

"Thank thy fucking lord. I know where that is, it's in Maplehood still. I'm told it's a lot like Rosewood but it's not a prestigious school. So no rich folks only problematic and semi intelligent people".

She was still thinking, "I can still show you the best ways to sneak around town and I can still get my revenge hopefully" she looked more visibly relaxed now that she thought she didn't have to protect him from Horacio.

However she still planned to keep her silent promise to protect him from bullies since she knew there were bound to be some.

She realized something.

"Hey! I don't have to wear school uniforms anymore... jesus it's been 8 years since I've been in a public school"

"Yeah! You know a lot more about the towns than we do- well I think Hoodie is pretty familiar with the town actually. I think his brother lives there. Anyways, we can meet up with them and EJ later. I think preparations are being made for us to live in a building close to the school." He said.

He laughed about the uniforms comment. "Yeah! And I won't have to wear a mask. And I can go to classes...and meet people my age..."

"But he's a doctor....I don't like doctors why are we going to see him?" she said slowly.

Some would notice and some would not but once Toby said 'meet people my age' there was a flash of jealousy on her face that quickly dissipated.

"Because he's the one who got the mission first." Toby said.

"If you tell him to back off, he will." He assured her.

Toby didn't notice. He was too caught up in his excitement. Real people! His age! And he maybe won't even have to kill them!

Tabby sighed "fair enough"

She then became more relaxed once again and spoke more softly.

"I'll be back in familiar territory again. I'll be up against people my own age who are give or take in intelligence and strength. So maybe my anxiety won't skyrocket and maybe I won't have to fight to survive another day as much"

Toby nodded.

"I don't think it will be so bad!" He sounded very optimistic about the whole situation. He couldn't wait.

Tabby gave him the same genuine lopsided grin. She absolutely adored his optimism.

Toby was excited for the whole thing.

"Plus this mission will pay super well. You would be able to afford almost anything. And...I bet the boss would pay in human cash if you wanted...".

Tabby nodded thoughtfully.

"That would definitely help me fulfill one of my promises that I made".

Toby nodded and smiled. He decided to just get a water. The soda he had gotten was already a big deviation from his regular diet. Tabby didn't order anything else one drink was enough for the day. She just quietly observed everything around her and tried to discreetly look at Toby more without making herself look more like a creep and blatantly staring. Toby finished his water. He paid for their drinks.

"So! Should we continue the tour?" He asked with a happy smile. His stomach had settled from the soda. He usually didn't drink that.

Tabby nodded her head eagerly with a smile "I'd like that very much" she slid off her bar stool to go follow him.

Toby waved bye to other people at the bar, avoiding looking at Clockwork as he led Tabby out. Tabby noticed that he avoided talking or looking at clockwork like the plague. But she quickly decided that it wasn't her place to ask questions and be privy to other people's personal information. But she made a mental note of it. She followed Toby out of the bar and into the streets. Toby led her past a couple of buildings and told her what they were.

"Oh, that's Bloody Painter's art studio. The one next to it is a med bay. The building past that is monster's only, so don't even worry about it. Next to that is BEN's 'office' area. A few shops. There's the Eastern Main Mission Center. Thankfully we're proxies so we don't use that that much. Oh, there's a training gym. You might want to head there later. It does more than train you how to fight. It's pretty cool."

She listened thoughtfully. She looked at the bloody painter's art studio. She sucked in a breath as the nostalgia of Autumn kicked in hard. Autumn would have gotten on well with the bloody painter since they were both artistic. She shook her head to clear her head.

"That's good to know. I can gain more skills and take down Horacio once and for all. The more I know and able to do the better off I am".

Toby nodded.

"Yeah! They teach you some pretty cool stuff there." He said.

"Like I learned some neat tracking tricks there."

He looked around the area. A few monsters mulled around but there were barely any proxies. Toby knew that they were close to monster territory but knew better than to take Tabby there.

She tilted her head to the right as she often did when she was being thoughtful

"That could be useful"

She noticed that there were less of...them and more of the monsters.

"I see there's less of us as we keep walking"

"Yeah, we're close to some monsters only territory." Toby said, continuing to walk and starting to speed up.

Tabby sped up with him. She kept her head down and she started to fidget with the bottom of her shirt again. She prayed that they wouldn't get into any kind of trouble. You could visibly see that she was uneasy.

"You'll be fine." Toby had noticed her unease.

"They usually don't go for proxies unless you actually step into the monsters only area. Oh look, there's Masky."

Masky was standing off to the side, chatting and laughing with some monster that Toby didn't know.

She eyed Toby suspiciously. She didn't really trust him for her own protection but she decided that her chances of survival would be better if she still stuck with him. She stood up straight and carried an emotionless expression and straightened out her shirt as she narrowed her eyes at Masky.

"Ah, the man who was about to kill me last night".

"Uh, yeah. And your new team leader." Toby said awkwardly.

They really shouldn't have any problems here as long as Tabby kept her mouth shut, which she was probably going to do until they were in a safer area. She probably knew that there wasn't much he could do if she decided to pick a fight. It would make them both seem cowardly if he intervened on her behalf again.

"Are you serious?" She said in disbelief but she kept her voice low.

She paused for a minute to asses the situation that was about to come up. Tabby was taught at a young age to know her place and keep her mouth shut. She really couldn't fight Masky since he was older and more experienced plus he had another person with him so she would be out numbered. She didn't want to drag Toby into her fights. As she specifically told him not to fight her battles for her. So she'll take the shit that Masky gives her. Tabby looked pissed but she gave Toby a look that was full of resignation and that she'll back off.

Toby nodded.

"Yeah, really." He said.

He knew that she'd be surprised when she actually talked to him later. When Masky isn't trying to kill someone, he's a really pleasant dude. He's so pleasant that sometimes Toby forgets that he's a bloodthirsty proxy.

"He'll be part of training you." Toby told her.

"And I'm sure Hoodie will help as well." He smiled awkwardly under his mouth guard.

Tabby huffed but she kept her mouth shut and crossed her arms in a defensive manner. If anything she's more passive to people that she hates that she can't beat.

"I'll learn what I can and I'll work with them but outside of that I want nothing to do with them".

"Yeah, good luck with that." Toby said with a laugh. He continued on.

"It's not funny! I'm serious!" She hissed as she ran after him to catch up.

Toby raised his eyebrows.

"It is. Just a little bit." He said good-naturedly. He slowed down a bit.

She playfully hit his arm and caught up with him. She was just fake mad at him. Toby laughed. He knew she was just teasing, and it didn't hurt anyways. Tabby was in a slightly better mood after that. So she could deal with Maskys shit a little bit easier. Toby laughed. They passed the monster's only area and were in a much safer place now. Tabby's defensiveness died down somewhat and she was semi relaxed. Toby smiled. They passed by a weird warehouse looking place. Tabby looked at the warehouse with curiosity. She realized that they have been walking for a long time now. But she didn't mind it since she was always on her feet for hours on end. Which is why she can't feel a thing the heels of her feet.

"Oh, that's where a bunch of...um...stuff goes down. You don't need to worry about it. I wouldn't advise going in there though." Toby said.

He didn't even go in there. He knew proxies who went in there and never came out.

Tabby nodded

"Well I don't plan on going in there anytime soon...or ever..." she went disturbingly quiet after that.

Toby nodded. They passed what looked like a daycare. Toby smiled a bit. He could see out in the yard. Little monster kids playing on a playground. Tabby stopped for a moment she gave a soft smile. It reminded her of when she and Adam used to go to daycare. But because Tabby was one of the older kids she would help out with the younger kids. And at the end of the day she would push Adam in his stroller on their way home if their mom was still working and if her step dad was too lazy to get them. But she didn't mind it though she enjoys taking care of Adam. Because it proves to herself that she's not a bad person contrary to what her step dad tells her. Her eyes were once again filled with a sense of nostalgia and I daresay a little bit of homesickness. Despite it not really being a good place. Toby smiled. He remembered when he first came here. He was surprised that people like them could have families here. He was under the impression that most, if not all of them, were created by their bosses. But then he learned more and learned that most proxies were born here and raised here and trained here. It was...weirdly sweet. Tabby realized that she missed her little brother and she hoped that he wouldn't be dragged into her new fucked up lifestyle. She also hoped that he would be okay without her. Well he was going to have to be whether he liked it or not. In order to take care of him she needed to take care of herself. She deemed it as a form of tough love.

"Hey Toby I have another question", she piped up.

"Yeah, what's up?" Toby asked as they passed by the daycare.

They passed a few places that looked like houses and a park-like area. He glanced around. Basically no one was outside. That was great.

"I know that relationships with other humans is ....prohibited...but would it be okay if every now and then if I were to go up to the human world and just periodically check up on...this person...just stalking in a distance no interactions whatsoever?", she asked.

Toby seemed to stare off into the distance for a bit. He looked...sad.

"Yeah...I suppose it's okay, but only if you don't tell anyone. Especially your boss."

Toby seemed to be lost in thought. In reality he was thinking about his mother.

Tabby nodded.

"Well I don't plan on telling anyone else...so yeah"

She realized that Toby was deep in thought because she does the exact same thing he does when she is deep in thought.

"Hey, are you okay?" She said slowly.

"Huh?" Toby seemed to snap out of it.

"Oh yeah, yeah I'm fine." He said. He tried to give her a reassuring smile as he checked his watch.

"Oh, damn. It's a lot later than I thought it was."

She gave him a look that said 'I don't believe you' but she let it go. She learned that in order to keep a friend you don't push shit.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No." Toby said. He furrowed his brows.

"We probably should eat something. But only if you're hungry. If you're not, we could try some training or something."

"I'm not hungry yet. We could try some training. It's either now or never" she said eagerly.

Toby looked sort of excited.

"Okay. To preface this I can't teach you everything. There's some stuff I don't know how to do. You'll have to get either Masky or Hoodie to teach you those things, okay?"

He turned and began making his way back to the gym. They could train there. Unless Tabby wanted to stay outside where it was hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement.

"Fair enough" she followed Toby to the gym.

Toby was quick, so he got there a little before Tabby did. He was kind of excited. Tabby ran to meet him there. She was actually very fast and wasn't out of breath when she caught up to him at the gym entrance. Toby opened the door for her. Air conditioning blasted through the door way. The gym smelled like a combination of heavy air freshener, sweat, and blood.

"This smells like the gym at Rosewood" said Tabby out of nowhere.

Toby laughed. "Well I mean I figure all gyms smell the same."

Tabby tilted her head to the right

"Well the gym at Maplehood elementary school smelled like fresh lemons and dirty gym socks".

"Gross." Toby wrinkled his nose but smiled.

He led her past the check in desk. That was only for if they wanted the higher tech training things or if they wanted to sign up for a class. He led her into the main room. There were quite a few people, all of whom were training. There was a small arena off to the side where two men were fighting each other rather aggressively with knives. There was a station near the middle with what seemed like flashcards and little trays of things. There was a rope course up on the ceiling, with the only access point being a climbing rope. There were weights, training dummies, and human-shaped cutouts that served as targets, all in various states of disrepair. Toby knew the better training gym was about two hours from this location, but it was still decent. If they wanted the better stuff, they had to sign in.

"So where do you want to start?" She said as she took off her jacket and set on a near by bench and tightened up her ponytail.

"Hm. Well, I'm not too good at long distance stuff. You'll have to ask Hoodie for that." Toby mused. He glanced at the rock wall, but figured that with her messed up hand, that wouldn't be too nice. A female proxy was working at the station near the middle.

"Oh, you said you wanted to learn plant stuff, right?"

Tabby nodded her head eagerly "yeah I did why?"

Toby led her to the middle station. In the little containers were different kinds of plants from the human world and from the monster world. It was a type of memory game. Tabby is awful at memory but she did recognize all of the plants from the human world due to books and growing up in the woods. She recognized a few plants from here from the book that she was currently reading. But in time she learned what the majority of plants were and their uses. After 5-6 tries. Tabby was getting quicker and better at the memory game after an hour. Toby was happy about that. He wasn't all too good with this sort of plant stuff. Tabby was satisfied when she got the hang of it and went back over to Toby.

Toby smiled.

"Cool! Er, you can choose what you want to learn next, okay?" He was new to the whole training thing.

"Well...I'm pretty good close range fighting...Although I don't really have any grace...my skills are pretty unorthodox....I'm good with weapons but they're harder to control than fists...", she was self analyzing herself.

"Well, we can work on that!" Toby said happily.

"I think I will be able to help you clean up your moves and whatnot." Toby seemed pretty excited.

"Also one of the trainers here is missing an arm. He could show you some cool stuff that I probably couldn't."

"Use every body part if you can in a fight or any blunt object you can get your hands on if it turned into that" she said with a shrug.

"Yeah, that's pretty good advice." Toby said. He had no idea where to start.

"Well at Rosewood I was a known fighter and straight A student. Other kids always tried to pick fights with me once they knew I could make Horacio turn tail. Often times it started out as fist fights, then weapons and then just dirty unfair fighting. So I learned quickly to be well rounded"

She nodded her head and turned to look at Toby.

"I know how to break someone's arm in 3 different places with one move. I could show it to you if you want" she said excitedly. Toby laughed. "Maybe later. And not on me, please. Just because I can't feel any pain doesn't mean that I can't be messed up." He grinned. He glanced over at a knife throwing station. He saw an older proxy there, a tall, very buff woman with lots of tattoos. He watched. She nailed each target with deadly accuracy. Her curly light brown, almost blonde hair was in a tight ponytail.

Tabby quickly "oh no no I'm not actually going to break your arm but I can walk you through the motions"

She looked confused when he said he couldn't feel pain

"How and why?"

"It's fine! Maybe later." Toby had responded. He didn't really feel like explaining CIPA at the moment so he just said that that was what he had and he couldn't feel pain because of it,

Tabby nodded slowly and gave him an unsure look "alrighty then" she decided to change the subject

"So who's that lady over there?" She pointed to the one throwing knives.

"That's Laura." Toby said.

"She's one of the older proxies. She's sort of like a cool aunt. She is also incredibly deadly so I wouldn't mess with her. She's pretty chill though."

"She's sounds cool" said Tabby tilted her head in thought.

"I have pretty good precision when it comes to throwing things Although my accuracy is a hit or miss more times than not"

"Nice. Laura does a lot of work with people regarding accuracy with knives and guns. She was the one that trained Hoodie on it."

She nodded and paused for a minute "would it be okay if I asked her to help me practice better?" She looked warily at the stranger.

"Yeah, it would!" Toby knew Laura was pretty decent. She had a good reputation of only beating up people who deserved it.

She gave Toby a look that said "I don't really trust you with this" she looked at the stranger with the same look. But if she wanted to learn which she did then she was going to have to push away her social anxiety and seek out the help herself. She gave Toby a curt nod and recompose herself. She stood up straight and kept her neutral expression which was a bored, slightly put upon expression. She walked up to Laura. She cleared her throat.

"Excuse me?" She said in a polite tone but still assertive enough to catch her attention. She held her breath and prayed that she wouldn't hit her or attack her in any way.

Laura turned, and glanced at her. She had the same level of suspicion, but then noticed the certain look Tabby had. A new proxy. She could tell just by looking at her and the way she stood. Her distrustful posture eased away and she offered her a smile.

"Oh. Hey. You need something?" It was instinctual. She couldn't help it.

Tabby shifted uncomfortably but still stood her ground. Her suspicion and defensive posture dropped a little as Laura's suspicion dropped too. She gave a small polite smile in return.

"Hello. My name is Tabby, I saw that you were good at throwing knives with good precision and and accuracy. I'm pretty good myself my precision is good but my accuracy is a hit or miss more often than not. I was wondering if you could give me some pointers" she looked down waiting for the rejection of 'get lost kid you're not worth my time'. She still proceeded with wary and caution during the interaction.

"Sure thing, kid." Laura said with an indulging look in her eyes.

She stepped back.

"First, let me see you throw." She said. Her voice was rough but not aggressive. Her tattoos seemed to ripple and move even when she stood perfectly still. She wasn't the type to tell people to get lost. If they were respectful, she would teach them. She handed Tabby some throwing knives.

Tabby took the knife into her right hand. She held it in the correct way to throw. She turned her head a little to get better aim. She adjusted her arm and threw the knife with a flick of her wrist. It it the bullseye due to the centripetal force from the flick of her wrist. Her voice reminded her of her mom with her gruff exterior. For a moment she had a flash of homesickness. She looked at Laura expectantly waiting for some critique. Tabby threw a few more using the same motions and her wide stance for foundation. One landed way outside of the bullseye and the other landed a couple of rings over to the left of the bullseye. She looked back a Laura apologetically.

Laura nodded slowly. She saw her problems.

"The wide stance only works if you're facing your target head on. That's why you missed the ones off to the side."

Laura then got into her own stance.

"Try this one. It's more versatile and it also allows you to react quicker to threats not coming after you head on." Laura was smiling softly.

Tabby reminded her of- no. There could be someone who could read her thoughts here. She mustn't think about that.

"Oh so you're saying if I shortened my stance a little it would work better? Like this?" She shortened her stance and threw one of the knives with a flick of her wrist. And it hit the bullseye straight on. She copied Laura's stance.

"Mhm." Laura nodded.

"It also makes it easier to do something like this-"

She pulled out a throwing knife and whipped around. The knife stabbed someone's apple, shot it out of their hands and impaled it into the wall. Laura grinned. That was a teammate of hers and they always messed around like that. He laughed, then flipped Laura off, which Laura returned before turning back to Tabby.

Tabby grinned and laughed "I'm good but I don't think I have enough coordination for that".

"You can get there. Coordination is mostly training anyways, only a bit of it is natural ability." Laura smiled at Tabby.

"Anything else?"

"Good to know" she smiled and thought about it "I think I'm good for right now. But if I think of anything else I'll let you know"

Laura nodded. She understood. She gave the girl a smile and turned back to the targets. She was glad to help. Tabby walked back over to Toby with a satisfied grin.

Toby smiled.

"Well, that went well." He said.

Tabby nodded excitedly "yeah who knew that it was all in the stance".

"Yeah! A lot of it is. Laura is also really good at showing people how to do it because she's trained a lot of people."

"Well that's good".

"I think I had enough training for now and I'm kinda hungry".

"Okay! We can go get something to eat." Toby said

Tabby nodded and began to walk out of the gym with Toby. Toby was feeling a bit peckish as well. He figured there were a few restaurants nearby. Tabby was looking around at her surroundings more being lost in thought. Toby thought he noticed someone in the shadows but ignored it. Tabby had the felt like she was being watched from someone or something in the shadows. She wasn't sure if it was her paranoia, being delusional from lack of sleep, or just the darkness of Rosewood following her. She chalked it up a mixture of all 3. However Tabby was a little more on edge as her Intuition was screaming at her to watch out. Toby felt out, feeling with his mind, trying to sense if it was another proxy as the shadow was humanoid. Proxies, for the most part, knew when other proxies were in the area. They were all connected in a sort of hivemind. When a proxy was in danger, everyone tuning in knew about it. Most experienced proxies were able to tune it out, but Toby still wasn't able to. The presence didn't feel like a proxy. Tabby quickened her pace.

"Maybe if I ignore it and out speed it. It would go away" she said in thought.

She had her arms to carry her books and her hands in opposite pockets. She had both knives in the correct position in her hands just in case.

Despite the figure keeping close to the shadows, Toby noticed that it was trying to keep out of sight. It was scared. It seemed to be shuffling, like it was hurt. But the figure wasn't heading anywhere towards a med bay. Toby remembered the scene from earlier with the human who had gotten down into this place. What if…

Tabby's paranoia was skyrocketing. She was a little bit tense and jumpy. Even though her eyes were on the ground they were darting all over the place. She didn't say anything and kept up the fast pace.

"Whoever it is is just as scared as you." Toby mumbled to Tabby.

Jane passed them on the other side of the street, an arm filled with groceries. She too looked into the alleyway, and quickly went in.

Toby sighed. "She's got it."

She snapped her head up to the point where you heard her neck crack and it probably sounded painful. She winced for a moment before narrowing her eyes at him and sounding defensive

"I'm not scared. I'm cautious there's a difference".

Toby raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

"Come on. Let's go." He said, just leading her along. There was no point in lingering.

She looked back down and continued walking. Toby knew he would ask Jane about it later. She made it a point to stay closer to him just in case. But not enough to be obnoxious about it.

"We could go back to Clockwork's bar for something or maybe go somewhere else to eat”.

"We can go somewhere else. I mean it's not like we have anything better to do" she shrugged.

Toby nodded. "I have a strict diet I need to stick to though."

"Fair enough"

Toby thought for a bit about places they could go to. Meanwhile tabby was lost in her own thoughts. On top of processing what tf happened last night, figuring out what her next move would me, surviving today, planning Horacio's death, missing her friends, mom, and little brother. She was thinking about something that she never thought that she could have. A future. Tabby was good at thinking long term for her choices. But not when it comes to herself. But looking around and seeing other establishments and older people. It made her realize that maybe she can live long enough to maybe perhaps open up her own restaurant per say. Food has always been her passion and she has experience and joy in working in a kitchen. Or maybe to just live out the rest of her life. If she lived long enough. That thought put a little seed of hope in her head and gave her a tiny bit of her will to live back. Tabby looked like she was zoned out which means that she was in deep thought. Toby found a restaurant nearby and led Tabby in. It was some random hole in the wall ran by a couple monsters. Tabby looked around at her surroundings she had a warm smile on her face from nostalgia. It reminded her of the restaurant she used to work at. Even though she was in the back of the kitchen. She always enjoyed the praise of customers when they like the food that she made. It was nice to be back in a familiar surrounding. The place smelled nice, and it was warm. The tables were somewhat crowded together and in a bit of a disarray. You would seat yourself here. Toby found a small table near the corner where they could sit. Tabby sat in the corner with her back facing the wall. That way there was no chance of anyone attacking her from behind and she can see what everyone else is doing.

"This is nice. It reminds me of where I used to work".

"Oh, cool!" Toby said with a smile. He had gotten them both menus.

Tabby nodded and looked on the menu to figure out what she wanted. Toby would probably get a salad and a water. He didn't trust much of the meat here. Especially since there was a cannibal section. Tabby would get a salad too since she really didn't trust food being made by other people unless she was watching them or if she was making it herself. But she figured that nothing can really go wrong with a salad. The place was crowded so Toby highly doubted the food would be poisoned. He also got a water and had one of the single use poison detectors with him to use just in case. He had picked one up as he got a menu. Tabby got a water too and she was quite happy to see the single use poison detectors. Toby glanced around. No one was paying much attention to them except for a little monster boy in a highchair. He was a chubby little thing with a round face and tiny nubby horns. Tabby smiled softly at the monster baby. It reminded her of her little brother who was a chubby little thing when he was born. Now he has more of a stocky build but he still has a little baby fat left. The little monster baby was babbling to what appeared to be his mother. He had a toy giraffe in his hand, or what used to look like a giraffe. It had been chewed so much. Tabby giggled and looked away. She didn't want to cause too much trouble. She was looking out the window now.

A waiter soon came to take their order. It was a ghost. Which made sense. A lot of ghosts wanted to spend eternity not being bored so a lot of em got jobs. Tabby ordered a chicken salad and a water. Toby ordered what he had planned on ordering. Tabby realized that it was a ghost as she's always been able to see the whole range of paranormal shit. She then looked sad and in thought. She knew ghosts were real. And she knew damn well that the majority of her friends didn't pass over yet since they all died a brutal death. So how come none of them tried to make contact with her to let her know that at least some of them were okay. Especially Autumn. She was sure that she would find a way to contact her. Anyway at all. But it's been a month and nothing. Tabby had her legs crossed and had her hands neatly in her lap as her leg was casually bouncing from being anxious and she was looking out the window. Toby was deep in thought. He looked out the window. He saw Jane hurriedly leading someone along. They had a placeholder mask on, which was weird because Toby could sense that they weren't a proxy.

Tabby said quietly, "isn't that the guy who was following us?".

"I think so”.

She tilted her head to the right thinking "they must be just as nerve racked as I was yesterday when I came here".

"But then again I'm always nerve racked".

Toby nodded. He had suspicions and he voiced them to Tabby. "I think whoever it is might be a human who got in here."

"What makes you say that? And why are they still here then? Can't Jane and them get into trouble?"

"Because I can't sense them. And yes, they could. They both could be killed, which is why we gotta shut up and ask them in private."

Tabby immediately closed her mouth and nodded. She looked down at her lap.

Toby nodded. "We can ask her later."

"Okay" she said quietly.

Soon their food arrived at their table. Toby tested his food and water. No poison. Awesome. Tabby waited for her turn. She eyed her food and water suspiciously. She smelled it first just in case if she could tell if something was off with the food.

Toby handed her a testing stick. "Oh-here”.

It took Tabby a couple of tries and inspecting the thing weirdly and letting out a few quiet 'oh...oh that's how it works' when her eyes light up with realization as she was figuring out how it works. Her food wasn't poisoned thank god so she was happily munching down on the salad. Toby ate his pretty quickly. He was pretty hungry honestly. As he sipped his water, he looked around. He saw the family with the little monster baby. He saw what was obviously a group of proxies about to start a mission. He saw an awkward first date. Tabby saw the same thing. Tabby scarfed down her food like she wouldn't see food ever again like a ravenous animal. Tabby realized that this is something that people would do on a first date like what she would read about and see on tv. They would go out to eat and make small talk. Which means that would make Toby her first date. She stopped functioning for a minute as she blushed a little at the thought. She held her cheek in her hand with her elbow propped onto the table as she looked out the window to hide the blush that was spreading to her ears. Tabby was done with her salad and was drinking the water in an attempt to stop her blush. Toby didn't notice. He honestly hadn't thought of it that way. He didn't watch that much TV, or even movies. He simply finished his water. Her blush died down a lot. She finished her water.

"Are you done with your food. Because I am".

"Oh yeah, I am. I just need to pay and we can leave." Toby said.

"Okay" she said quietly as she picked everything up and put it in a neat, organized pile so that way it would be easier for the servers to pick up.

Toby got up to go to the front to pay. A server came by and picked up all the plates. Tabby thanked them and walked with Toby out the door. Toby felt a lot better after eating. He was still a little curious about what had been going on earlier. He wanted to ask Jane. Tabby kept to herself and walked quietly with him. She really didn't see the point in talking unless she was spoken too or if she was really interested in something. She looked over at Toby trying to be discreet about it taking in all of his features. Toby was deep in thought. It was hard to see his face as he was wearing his mouth guard and goggles. If Jane had saved a human's life, she would be risking her own. Tabby was spacing out. Her head was empty for once. Which meant some peace and quiet for her for a little while at least. Finally. Toby had found his way back to the apartment. He was just about to open the door for them both when he noticed he had a message waiting for him. Tabby walked in and looked at the note curiously but didn't pry too much. Toby read it. It was from Masky, setting a time for when they would meet up the next day.

Tabby raised an eyebrow "does it say anything important?".

"It's just when and where we're meeting up with the rest of the group tomorrow." Toby said.

"The group being Masky, Hoodie, you, EJ, and anyone else put on this mission with us."

Tabby nodded and sighed and groaned when she heard Maskys name "ugh...him? I hate him...." She went to her room to put away her books and came back out.

Toby laughed a bit. "You might want to give him a second chance. He's actually kind of decent. A bit of a dork, actually, but don't tell him I said that."

She gave him a small smile "don't worry I ain't a snitch. Your secret is safe with me"

Toby laughed a bit. Then sighed. It was nice to be in the air conditioning.

"So now what?" She asked as she rubbed her arm awkwardly.

"Well, we could go out again and find something to do, we could go do something in the human world, or we could just chill here."

"I don't really care it's up to you".

"I got what I wanted out of today so I'm good".

"Okay, fair enough. Well if you don't care, I'm going to go talk to Jane about what we saw earlier. You can come if you want but if you don't, that's chill."

"I'll go I'm curious as well"

"Okay, awesome." Toby said.

Tabby re tightened her ponytail. "Let's go”

[trvelyans-archive]

i am on my hands and knees begging for u to tell me about lila and margot 🙏

jasmine.............. thank you for this gift

under the cut because i expect it’ll get very long <3 :) update after i finished writing: it is, in fact, very long and also took me over an hour. so. take that as whatever sort of warning you might want.

let’s start with margot !

she was born to a couple of really young parents who..... did not want to be parents. at all. they were still in the party-and-get-drunk phase of their life and didn’t want to have a kid to worry about, so a large part of her childhood was spent couch surfing between relatives, mostly her grandfather.

they were really close! he would help her with her homework, they would cook together, he would let her drink underage so that she was well-versed in beer by the time she was like. idk. 16 lol. but she felt closer to him than her own parents, who were good when they were around but. they mostly weren’t around <3

when she was 19, her grandpa starting showing pretty serious signs of memory loss and whatnot and eventually had to be moved into a home. she was living with him by that point, so she had to continue to spend a year or so of her adult life couchsurfing. it didn’t help that she was in school full-time to get an engineering degree of. some kind. i think mechanical engineering. idk. and didn’t have a job, so to pay back her roommates she took up a majority of the housework as well as picked up odd jobs on the weekend. her grandpa’s health continued to decline through this time so she didn’t actually mind being busy because then she. didn’t have to think about it at all <3

and then.............. when she was 20......... her boyfriend of a year  suggested that she not only move in with him but that they get married and margot, who has never had stability ever in her life, jumped at the opportunity !

after she graduated, she found it incredibly hard to find a career (even though they were in the same program and He had no trouble finding one), so she was back to not working but her husband didn’t mind and he supported her whole-heartedly. during this time she started running and then eventually started going to a gym with a couple of her female friends from their neighbourhood! she would also spend a lot of time at her grandpa’s but his health was still rapidly declining. eventually her now-husband said that she should probably stop visiting him and margot was like “.... ok i guess”

And then. :)

she kept spending time outside of the house and started taking self-defense classes with a few of her friends and her husband was started to get very antsy. he wanted her to be at home, told her that he didn’t like her going out at night or, eventually, at all, and would find ways to keep her home every night so she didn’t go out. during this time he also started getting. um. very manipulative. he was easily triggered into starting arguments. so she increased the frequency of her self-defense classes and, eventually, they became Very Useful in an argument with her husband. so. we hate him :)

after that she filed for a divorce, moved away and changed her name to her late grandmother’s last name. she started working at a gym in her new town and eventually decided to open her own ! she had gotten the building about 2-3 weeks before the outbreak hit and didn’t have any furniture or equipment of any kind, so she met up with 2 middle-aged women from her old gym and they travelled together until one of them was bitten in a fight with walkers and dragged into a big crowd of them to be eaten and the other one was bitten and margot had to shoot her when she got zombified and tried to attack. :(

that’s where i have left off for now but i am going to develop her More the more i watch the show !!!

okay. backstory over. now for the fun bits:

her faceclaim is mackenzie davis specifically in terminator (without the. lines on her arms and whatever idk what those are) and this picture is the most margot-vibe imaginable.

the haircut was an incredibly recent choice but it came in handy during the outbreak because she didn’t have to worry about keeping hair out of her face. girlboss !

she is 6′2 :) her and her husband were funnily enough the 2 tallest people in her graduating class

she spoke occasionally to her parents after graduating and moving away but they fell out of touch a year or so before the outbreak began and she......................... unsurprisingly doesn’t miss them at all

she has 1 keepsake and it’s an old keychain of her grandpa’s and if anything happens to it. she will kill everyone in any room and Then herself !!!

she likes to where tank tops to show off her big arms. is this very ergonomical in the apocalypse where zombie bites can kill you instantly ? nope! will she do it anyway to intimidate people ? yup!

she Cannot cook. at all. she lived off of take-out and microwavable meals for the first 20 years of her life and then she always had someone else making food for her until she moved away on her own when it was back to takeout.

on the topic of food :) her fave foods are mac and cheese with breadcrumbs and meatlover’s pizza !

she will do literally anything for a good beer. anything. she keeps an eye out for them every time she goes scavenging in buildings and will try to get at least 1 bottle per trip. girlboss !

she cannot sing. in fact she’s not just average, she’s Terrible. she can, however, play mad guitar because her grandpa taught her.

now onto miss lila :)

she was born in a town a couple over from rick’s and was the younger sister of 2 ! she had a really great family and a very very happy childhood :) her dad was a wildlife rehabilitator and her mom was a landscaper who took a lot of pride in their nice big backyard and garden and Land where they. you know. rehabiliated the wildlife and what not

she worked a lot with her dad and mom at their wildlife centre and also helped her mom garden a lot (their house was on the same property as the centre so it was a nice big plot of land). she took a lot of interest in rehabilitating animals and it sparked a very early childhood interest in Caring for things (namely little wild critters) which extended to her helping out little kids on the playground when they got scraped knees and things. she always had a package of bandaids in her backpack from second grade on. an angel <3

in her final year of high school she had a very quick fling with a boy from her high school that ended… poorly. and then she got pregnant! which she. Did not expect. nor want. nor need in her life because she was planning on moving to atlanta to go to medical school and kickstart her career. her sister, who had recently dropped out of school and lost her job, decided to Take One for the team and claim the baby as hers so lila could go to medical school and stuff. their parents promised to take good care of her and they all made a plan to hide lila’s pregnancy from their town (although i’m sure literally everyone knows anyway) and then she moved away in the summer after giving birth to go to school

she quickly finished up her nursing program but was out of job for a few years until she got a job offer to be the nurse at king county elementary school aka the school were one Carl Grimes goes to school. she moved there in may and one night, when her car Squealed to a stop in front of a dog who had run away from his home and was being chased by. Um. a certain sheriff’s deputy who was intending on bringing the puppy back home <3 they got to talking and. Well. the rest is history…..

she was a very beloved member of the staff and kids would often fake sick just to come to her office and get a sucker and she grew esp close to the grimes family :D after a couple of years living in king county she got a job to start working at some fancy prep school in atlanta and decided that actually she might want to. You know. start being a mom now that she was finished with school and had a career. so she moved away from king county at the end of the next school year and was unfortunately in atlanta when it was bombed by the government at the start of the outbreak so she and her daughter and sister all died :) and that’s that !

some fun facts because that was a very depressing end to her story:

she always has suckers in her office at school and her favourites are the watermelon ones.

she can often be found gardening in her backyard or watching the birds in the trees like a little nature baby !!!

she is very meticulous about planning. she Does have a daily agenda. she Will kill you if you touch it. shane likes to leave her little notes in it for her to find when she’s at school. sometimes they are not Just cute. she usually erases those.

she likes collecting ugly thrift store paintings of animals and hangs them up in her dining room and she Does think they are incredibly funny.

she is a vegetarian !!! very unwavering about it. shane finds it annoying because he’s good at cooking steak but she just has a salad and then they’re both perfectly happy <3

sends basically everyone she knows a Christmas/holiday card every year. even the teachers at the elementary school who don’t like her and or barely talk to her !!!

she is a terrible maker of tea and usually forgets about cups before she’s even halfway through them (thank god for her). makes everyone tea when they come over except shane (stupid ass) because he doesn’t like it and usually people just politely swallow it even though it’s too steeped or. sorry idk how tea works. she just Makes It Bad ok

she perpetually forgets to do laundry. Most of her non-scrubs have dirt stains or dressing stains or whatnot (except for her Really nice clothes) which is why she tries to buy a lot of patterns. makes things easier to hide <3

and that’s it for now !!! i have so much other lore for them but i will stop here for now :) thank you very much if you read this also i’m very sorry i have twd brainworms i cannot help it. anyway ok that’s it thanks love you bye

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, blood, gun shot wounds, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count: 2172

A/n: Omgg I am soooo sorry!! I forgot to add a read more T.T I fixed it I promise!!!

Part 13===Part 14===Part 15

Jungkook was blind fury and rage, seeking those that'd dare harm what was his. He stalked through the halls, all caution thrown to the wayside as he mowed down body after body heading his way. It wasn’t the infected he was looking for though. 

“SEO EUN KWANG!!!” Jungkook’s voice rang through the hotel lobby, echoing in the empty expanse as he stopped in the center of the empty space to stare around.

“You know Boss…” A condescending voice drew his attention to the check in desk, “I never really wanted things to go down like this…”

Jungkook drew his gun to center mass, face a mask of emotionless disinterest at the man’s words. “Minhyuk and Sungjae are dead.” He growled the words out, vision tinted red at the corners as he watched Eun Kwang sigh and shake his head.

“I told them to take the night off. They weren’t even supposed to be at the warehouse. But you know how it is. Balancing out a mutiny with an apocalypse is just never going to go in anyone’s favor.”

“A fucking mutiny? What the hell is this, Pirates of the fucking Caribbean? You betrayed me Eun Kwang. After everything you fucking sell out piece of low end garbage. Not only that, you got HER shot.”

The older man shook his head once more with a laugh, leaning forward to place his elbows on the checkout desk’s high wall and tap at his temple with his gun. “Little dongsaeng, it was always in the cards for this to happen. You were just too blind to see that one little boy from Busan could never handle running the entirety of Daegu. You dreamed big, yeah. But kid, this city was just too big for you.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” Jungkook stalked forward, arms never wavering as he sighted the gun right for the center of Eun Kwang’s forehead. “I never wanted to run this whole town. You fuckers put that on me. I just wanted to make enough to get by. Make sure my girl had everything she needed. None of that included taking over a damn thing!”

“Easy there little cowboy. Another step closer and my boys are gonna have to protect me and the last thing I wanna do is end up killing you.” Eun Kwang smirked as Jungkook halted in place, eyes darting around to spot three men stepping from the shadows, each with their guns aimed at him and almost manic grins gracing their faces.

***

Pain.

Everything was pain and screaming.

“You’ve got to get her to wake up!”

I couldn’t help but to groan, hands reaching out to grab the nearest person as I fought against the pressure held against my outer thigh.

“It hurts...make it stop it hurts!” I whimpered, blurry gaze taking in the worried faces of Seokjin and Yoongi who were working to hold me down. Rose’s face appeared above me, panicked as she shushed me and pressed down on my forehead to keep me still.

We were in a room of some sort, no longer in the hotel kitchen so I couldn’t be sure how long I’d been out cold. Cleaning supplies surrounded us but the pain in my chest and leg kept me from being able to take in any more information as Yoongi had renewed the pressure on the molten mass of ouch that was my thigh.

“Can’t...breath…” I whimpered out.

“Release the straps on her vest. The ceramic plates will have shattered, if she’s got any broken ribs it’s gonna get a lot worse for her.” The voice in my ear crackled to life, startling me as I struggled for a moment to register Jimin’s calm tones whispering in my ear.

Seokjin released my uninjured leg, moving to lift my upper body. The pressure on my chest increased, blinding me for a moment as my lungs decided they didn’t want to work. I stared up at the ceiling, mouth open in a silent scream and tears chasing each other down my cheeks as Jin unzipped my jacket and fumbled to release the straps that’d been holding my tactical vest together.

As the straps released air whooshed into my lungs and I let out a sob of relief, though it didn’t last long as a strange shifting in my chest caused more pain to shoot through me.

“F...fuck…” I coughed, turning my head in Rose’s lap and shutting my eyes as a wave of dizziness rolled over me.

“Alright, once she’s breathing better shift those plates around and strap her back in.” Jimin’s voice came again and I turned my head towards Jin, eyes wide as I shook my head desperately to stop him. But it didn’t matter, and deep down I knew it as Jin pulled the straps tight and snapped them back into place. The pressure was a bit better, but damn did it hurt.

“Yoongi, have you got your silencer barrel on you?”

Yoongi grunted in reply, turning with one hand still holding pressure on my leg as he unscrewed the barrel from his sniper rifle. 

“I’d tell you to fire off a round or two but...not now…”

“I know what you’re gonna say…” Yoongi shifted upwards on his knees, placing the silencer on my chest for a moment and digging into his pocket. His hand reappeared and I watched on in a confused haze of pain and worry.

He nodded to Jin who groaned to himself as he picked up the silencer and held it delicately out to Yoongi. The silent assassin reached out, flicking a lighter and producing a flame that licked at the cold steel of the barrel.

My eyes widened in panic and I began to struggle, knowing deep down exactly what they were about to do.

“Keep her still.” Yoongi growled and Rose rushed to comply.

She grabbed my flailing arms, pinning them down to my sides as she shifted forward to keep a better hold on me.

Me struggling didn’t matter.

The pain no longer mattered.

The...the smell of my own flesh searing didn’t matter.

Only the bliss of one final scream chased closely by unconsciousness.

***

“Oh god…” Rose retched, losing her grip on the limp woman as Yoongi continued his grim work.

It really took no more than a moment to cauterize the bullet wound. It stretched less than 3 inches along the expanse of her outer thigh, but the blood loss alone would have caused quite an issue later on, not to mention the risk of infection. Yoongi treated the wound as best he could, wrapping it in the remains of the shirt Jungkook had tossed them before they’d locked themselves inside the supply closet of the hotel. 

Seokjin sniffed, covering his nose with the back of his wrist as he stared forlorn down at the cold sweat that glistened from the unconscious form of one of his favorite people. He shook his head, grinding his teeth before tapping the inner earpiece to signal to Jimin they’d finished the work.

The haggard doctor sighed through the communication device. “She should be safe to move. Just try not to jostle her ribs too much. I take it what Yoongi did made her pass out?” 

Rose whimpered, fingernails digging painful crescents into the palms of her hands as she struggled to regain control of the tears flowing down her cheeks. True, she’d been desperate for rescue the moment the news started rambling about people eating each other but...this? This wasn’t what she’d hoped for. She’d never wanted any of them getting hurt.

“I’ll hand things over to Tae, I’ve got to go get the infirmary prepped for when you guys get here. Try not to get hurt in the meantime…”

Yoongi grunted, eyes focused in on the hasty bandages as if waiting for them to bleed through. Taehyung’s voice returned, strained as if he’d been crying though none of them commented on his tone of voice.

“Alright, I’ve got visuals on Boss and Hoseok. The alley looks clear from this angle, along with the side streets that’ll lead you guys back in this direction.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Boss, I know you want to go after them...but we’ve got to get her back home. Yoongi hyung and Jin hyung could manage it solo but not without risking getting hurt or worse..infected…”

There was a brief moment of silence before Hoseok’s voice crackled over the line. “We’re headed back. Get ready to move out.” 

Yoongi nodded to the two figures either side of him, tucking the silencer barrel into a side pocket on his black cargo pants before handing the rifle itself over to Seokjin.

The trio were silent aside from the occasional sniffle from Rose but eventually they managed to pack as much as they could away, checking to ensure their weapons were all reloaded in the process. 

Yoongi worked gingerly, lifting y/n’s limp form into his arms bridal style and turning to nod to Jin. A single tap to the earpiece and the others were alerted that they were ready to move out and head home.

***

“Hobi hush. I’ve already told you none of the wounds are life threatening. If you wake the Boss I swear to all the high heavens that I’m blaming it on you and running.”

The whispering voices woke me, a welcome balm to the chaos that had been my nightmares.

Before opening my eyes and alerting them to my consciousness I took a moment to take stock of what I was feeling. The throbbing in my leg had gone away, probably due to whatever medication Jimin had managed to get in me. The weight alone let me know that it’d been treated and wrapped, though the weight in my chest hadn’t eased much.

I groaned, shifting a bit in an attempt to get a bigger breath of air. This got the attention of the two whispering voices which quickly stopped talking followed by the distinctive sound of shuffling bodies. After a moment a small hand slipped around mine, lifting it slightly as Jimin’s voice followed.

“Hey Boss Lady, you waking up?”

I peeled my eyelids open, one at a time before blinking to clear the blur and focusing on the two concerned faces hovering over me.

“Mmm...think I’m awake, though somehow I feel like I should be far more grateful for that stockpile of pain meds you like to keep around.”

Jimin gave me a shaky grin and a sniffle from beside him caught my attention. Lifting my head slightly I caught the sight of a forlorn Hoseok, eyes puffy and the normally sunshine glow of his grin nowhere to be seen. I let go of Jimin’s hand, fingers wiggling to catch Hobi’s attention.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay I promise.”

The poor boy whimpered, lower lip sticking out as he grabbed my hand in both of his. Closing his eyes he leaned forward, forehead pressed to my fingers as he sniffled his way out of the tears.

“Don’t...don’t do that to me again Boss Lady. I don’t like it when you get hurt….” 

I shook my head, giving a short laugh that only served to leave my head swimming as whatever was going wrong with my ribs shifted. “Ho...boy…” Releasing Hobi’s hand I arched my back as best I could, inhaling deeply and wincing as something strange popped in my chest.

“Alright now.” Jimin muttered, pushing me back down onto the bed with a frown. “I know it’s hard to breathe, but try not to breathe too deeply. You want those ribs to heal up properly you’re gonna wanna give them a chance to settle back where they belong.” 

I nodded, though relaxing back to where I’d been laying was harder than I wanted. I glanced to my other side, realising that the reason I hadn’t been able to move that hand was because a pair of incredibly toned arms was wrapped around it and a shaggy head of hair was currently pinning it to the bed.

I turned to the other two boys, arching an eyebrow at them in questioning.

“He hasn’t left your side since you all got back. Course...he hasn’t said much either.” Jimin sighed, rubbing his temples to release some of his pent up stress and then carding a hand through his hair. 

“Mmm… how long was I out?”

“Half a day. The Boss only just passed out about an hour ago though…”

I nodded, gaze returning sadly to the softly snoring form beside me. My heart ached for him, even knowing I was the one injured not him. I waved my hand, giving the two boys a soft smile to let them know I’d be alright on my own.

They left, Hobi sniffling the whole way as Jimin softly closed the door behind him. It was better to let Jungkook sleep. Things would run just fine without him for a while.

[watchtower-feed]

Death Do We Part (Part 9)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Notes: VIOLENCE WARNING. Words: 2,300+

    You try to run through all of the implications in your head and only come up with one thing. “Do you think he found a way to know when I’m tuning in? And turns off his own senses?”

    Bruce quickly turns around, eyes wide. He stares at your worried face for a second before he puts on a pensive expression. “It’s not impossible.”

     You start spending even more time in the cave. When you’re not at the university or having meals with Alfred, you’re down there trying to get a better handle on your link, trying to find a way to one-up Jason.

     But it’s a slow night. You’re laying on the medical table trying to tune in on Jason but all you hear are ocean waves. You wonder if it’s real and he’s enjoying some downtime at a tropical island somewhere. Or if it’s fake and he’s actually holed up in another fortress, playing a TV in the background.

     Familiar voices enter the cave and your sensitive hearing picks up on them immediately.

     “I’m telling you, Tim, you need to go out once in a while or you’ll forget how to talk to people.”

     Ever since Tim saw Jason’s writing on your arm, he’s been distant, immersing himself in both schoolwork and the search for Jason. Despite his feelings for you, Tim wants to bring Jason back to his family. But he’s only been helping strictly from Dick’s apartment.

     “I talk to you all the time!”

     “Not me-- not us. You know, normal people. Civilians.”

     You open your eyes and stare at the cave’s ceiling, finding it harder to tune out Dick’s voice more than usual so you decide to listen in.

     “Bruce, I’m taking Tim to this new club that just opened. Across the bridge. You know the one.”

     “You mean the one Black Mask just opened two days ago?”

     “Same one!” Dick chuckles and you can imagine him doing finger guns.

     “Wait,” you can already visualize Tim pursing his lips. “This is a recon mission, isn’t it? You said we were going out!”

     “I said my mission was to get you out of my apartment.” Before Tim could answer, Dick is already walking over to you and you see his face hover over yours, tousled hair streaming down, almost covering his eyes and touching your nose. “And to get you out of the cave.”

     You quickly shake your head but refuse to sit up. “Clubs aren’t really my scene.”

     Dick laughs, “You’ve never even been to one. How do you know it’s not your scene?”

     It’s your turn to purse your lips. The way Dick’s looking at you while waiting for an answer, you can already tell he’s prepared to fight you for this.

     “It’s obviously a mission, Dick. Are you sure you want to bring an innocent civilian into this?”

     He smirks, “Oh, Y/N. We both know you’re anything but. Just last week you beat me at sparring--”

     “It was self-defense training. Of course, I’m supposed to win!” you’re yelling now and sitting up, making his smirk is wider. This is exactly what he wants. The more aggravated you become, the more you let your guard down. He thinks he has you trapped but you’re about to pull the dirtiest trick Dick will never expect.

     “Bruce needs me here.”

     Dick looks visibly taken aback. Bruce’s brows perk up and he turns from the computer to look at the two of you. You just used the ‘Bruce’ card, which is a silent strategy you’ve picked up from Dick whenever Alfred tells him to go home.

     Under his breath, Dick hisses, “Thief.”

     “Dick, let’s go. It’s already past ten,” Tim’s already walking towards the shaft. You give Dick an innocent smile before you lie back down.

     You close your eyes when you still feel him staring at you. Then he walks up to Bruce, “She’s been spending all of her time in the cave, Bruce. We all want Jason back but she-- you-- the both of you can’t let this take over every minute of your lives.”

     Dick doesn’t wait for his reply and follows Tim. When Bruce hears the shaft’s gears stop moving, he sighs and drags his chair toward you.

     “Y/N.”

     You close your eyes even harder. You heard what Dick said to him.

     “Did something happen between you and Tim?”

     Your face flares up and you immediately sit up. “What? What makes you say that?”

     “You’ve been avoiding him.”

     Was there any point in hiding things from the greatest detective in Gotham? Of course, you’ve been avoiding Tim and he’s been avoiding you. Even if Bruce was asleep he’d notice that. You look down at your hands. “I just want to find Jason,” you whisper.

     Bruce sighs, “I know. Me too.” He lets the silence sit for a while before he speaks again. “I know you blame me for what happened--” you quickly turn to him with every intention to interrupt and he holds up his hand with a smile, “I blame myself, too. That’s why I want him back just as bad.” Bruce looks down at his own hands, holding each other and lying on his lap, “I miss my son.”

     You’re both quiet for a while. Then Bruce smiles, almost laughing, something you’ve yet to see until now. He tells you the story of how he met Jason, how the little skinny child kicked his shin, Batman’s shin, in anger because he drove over the food you left him.

     You laugh as well, making Bruce smile a little wider because he hasn’t heard you laugh in a while. Then he tells you stories of Jason living in the manor, how he would run around and open every single door to look inside. Bruce and Alfred could hear him yell out profanities as his voice echoed inside the rooms.

     Alfred would always tell Jason to mind his manners and he would, but only for a few seconds. But when he saw the cave, Alfred resorted to smiling while rolling his eyes, to not waste any more breath on berating him.

     When Jason first saw Robin’s costume on display, he stared at it in awe. It was the first time he had kept quiet for more than a minute since Bruce met him.

     “Do you want to try it on?” Bruce asked and the hair on Jason’s arms rose up. As soon as Bruce opened the case and handed him the costume, he started stripping there and then. The first thing Jason did in Robin’s costume was jump up on the medical table. With his hands on his hips and head held high, he points at an imaginary figure between Bruce and Alfred.

     “That’s far enough, ya thug!”

     You laugh aloud, filling the empty cave with your voice. “He used to--” you wheeze, “always-- say that-- when we were-- kids!”

     Bruce smiles at you as you come down slowly from your mirth. You watch him as he looks down at his hands and the smile disappears from his face.

     “If I had known about your link--”

     “I know,” you interrupt him quickly this time. You drop down from the medical table to place your hands over his. “That’s exactly why he didn’t tell you. He wanted to be Robin-- even before he met you.” You look around the cave, “this was his dream. I wouldn't have stopped him but he knew you would’ve.”

     Bruce looks over the cave until his eyes find the two cases that held Dick and Jason’s Robin costumes.

     “He never told me about any of this,” you say. Bruce turns back to you but you’re looking somewhere else, lost in thought, “But now-- Now. When I think about some things in the past, it starts to make sense. Why I would always find Robin everywhere. There was never a night when I didn’t see him near our neighborhood.”

     You take your hands away to put them on your own shoulders. Looking away, you try to recall an experience you had not long before you died.

     “One night, someone was following me. I didn’t know him but no matter what turn I took he was behind me. Then Robin showed up and asked me to take a walk with him. We took several detours before he took me to my apartment, talking to me the whole time about the most random things, trying to keep my attention away from that man until he finally disappeared.”

     You’re smiling again, “He walked me to my door. Then when I got inside my room he knocked on my window. He stared at me for a long time. I could see his eyes moving behind the mask like he was trying to memorize my face and I felt self-conscious--”

     You blush and only now remember that you’re talking to Bruce. He gives you a small smile, encouraging you to continue.

     “He smiled at me. He ruffled my hair and told me not to worry because Robin and Batman are protecting me.”

     Bruce closes his eyes as he tries to see it in his own head.

     “I’m sorry, Bruce,” you say quietly, “For how I’ve acted this past year. You’ve been so good to me.”

     “Y/N,” he interrupts, placing his own hands on your shoulders, “You’re part of this family. You have been since before you came here.”

     You and Bruce look at each other. He’s right. They’ve known everything there is to know about you-- you and Jason. You laugh suddenly as you imagine your mother telling Bruce about the things you and Jason used to get in trouble for.

     A sudden alert from the computer steals your attention away. Bruce quickly kicks his chair back to the desk and you follow behind him. It’s Dick.

     “Batman, new player’s on the move. Robin and I are in pursuit.”

     Bruce’s face quickly changes back to a stoic expression. For a few weeks now, this new player has been working the Gotham underground, slowly climbing the ranks and recruiting all sorts of small-time thugs and a few  Arkham Asylum villains. For what? You don’t know and that’s what has Bruce on edge.

     He pulls his cowl over his face and stands up, “I’m on my way.” He walks over to the batmobile but abruptly turns to you, almost forgetting you’re there. He stands there, unsure what to say.

     “Stay safe, Bruce.”

     He finally nods and leaves you. You take his seat and pull up the surveillance from Tim, Dick, and Bruce’s masks. You see Tim and Dick chasing a shadow over the rooftops in a residential area.

     “He’s well-trained,” Bruce speaks through the comms, watching the same feed.

     “Yeah, guys got some moves,” Dick tries to make light of the situation but you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “He knows the area, too.”

     “Don’t lose him,” Bruce orders and Tim scoffs.

     “What does it look like we’re doing?”

     “Woah,” Dick quips, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the--”

     “Nightwing, look out!” You see something thrown in the air and explodes into a bright light, cutting off both Tim and Dick’s video feeds.

     “Nightwing! Robin!” Bruce shouts and you hear the engines grow louder in the background. You’re holding your own breath until you hear their voices again.

     “We’re fine,” Tim grits through his teeth. “Flash grenade.”

     “He knows we’re watching.”

     Suddenly all electricity in the cave goes out and the darkness swallows you before the emergency lights kick in. Blackouts never happen in this part of town. The cave’s primary power source is the same one that fuels up the manor on the city’s blueprints, but no one would know about that. Unless.

     Unless the actual target is Wayne manor.

     “Alfred!” you jump up from your seat as the computer turns back on.

     “Target engaged. Are you seeing this, Batman?” Dick’s voice fills the cave as you wait for the shaft to rise up, the current mission completely forgotten. It’s just you and Alfred on the property and you’ve been wondering for a while now why he hasn’t come down to check on you and Bruce.

     “Please be safe. Please be safe.”

     The moment you open the grandfather clock, you’re hit with a foul-smelling gas that invades every single one of your senses.

     “Right on cue,” comes a distorted voice that’s blowing on your face. You see through the badly makeshift hole in his tattered burlap mask and find deep green eyes staring back at you, wild and manic. Slowly the mask shifts with the air and you see him.

     You’ve only ever seen pictures but now you’re staring straight into his eyes. Blood-curdling laughter resonates from every corner of the unfamiliar room. A darkened space that’s no longer in the manor.

     You try to ground yourself by looking at your feet. You watch concrete appear before your eyes and you look up to find yourself inside a warehouse.

     “Boo!”

     You see it before you feel the blow knock the air out of your lungs. You clutch your stomach and struggle to keep your sights on him. He’s standing tall with the crowbar in his hand, throwing it in the air and catching it. He leers at you as you slowly back away.

     “Careful there--”

     You trip over something and fall on your back. You freeze the moment you see what-- who it is. It’s Robin. It’s Jason. His costume is tattered and singed. The tips of his hair are burned. His eyes are closed. 

     You quickly crawl toward him, “Jason!” You’re relieved to find his chest moving, breathing.

     Your body stiffens when the crowbar comes hammering down and cracks several of Jason’s ribs right in front of you. You just watch with wide eyes and hands raised in the air. Jason coughs out blood onto your clothes.

     The maniac laughs, “Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you, my dear.”

     The next blow comes down against your shoulder, knocking you away from Jason. The next one comes before you can recover and it hits you on the nose. Everything is ringing. Your vision is blurry with tears.

     But the image of the crowbar and the clown comes clear as day as he strikes the top of your head. You’re knocked back onto the ground and you think you heard a fracture. You feel stunned. You can’t move your arms and your legs. Only the tips of your fingers are twitching as you lie on the ground.

     Your eyes frantically move around the room, trying to find where the next blow is going to come from. He’s walking toward you, away from Jason who’s lying still in the corner. He breaks your ribs just as he did with Jason and you cough blood into his face. The splatter seems to awaken something in him and he smiles wider, the wide grin on his face twitching with joy.

     You shudder in fear as blood fills up your throat and you can’t breathe. You keep your eyes on Jason as the Joker slams the crowbar down onto the tips of your fingers.

     Is this what Jason felt? Alone? In pain? Dying? Oh god, you thought. Why does he have to go through this again? You close your eyes and desperately try to shut off your link.

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

[beerecordings]

Poison - Chapter Seven

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l Part Six

Hi guys! Though this is the last plot-heavy section of the story, there will be an epilogue to tie up loose ends :) Hope you enjoy this final section! It has been a long ride with maximum whump haha. Thank you for reading.

Trigger warnings for hospitalization, needles, death threats, traumatic flashbacks, and mild eye trauma.

I’ll post a last-chapter summary later because I just posted chapter six but be sure to read that before you read this one :)

It was easy, honestly, once the doctor was shaken up.

He didn't have to be Anti or Chase. Anyone could have seen that Henrik was a mess, all trembling hands and reddened eyes and grieving, guilty, heart-broken mouth. Poor little doctor, aww. And he'd been waiting for an opportunity for days.

He considered riling him up more, but Henrik only gets stiff and scared and frozen when too much is going on, so he soothed him instead, pretending to wake up warm and sleepy and whimpering for his big brother, begging to be unrestrained just for a few minutes, please. Desperate for good news and aching for one of his best friends, Henrik quickly abandoned caution in the hopes of comforting Chase.

And he let himself be held for a moment, and Henrik was warm and soft and comforting, and he cannot deny that he liked it for the time he let it last – the smell of coffee and soap, the hot pressure of another body, the familiarity of human skin.

But he had more important things to do than this.

He held Henrik's throat until he passed out and sedated him in an act of vengeance, exchanging clothes and leaving Henrik tied up and unconscious on the bed where he had been trapped for days.

He could have hurt him further. He should have hurt him further. He should have killed him.

But he did not.

Where are we going? He asks himself, trying to keep his wavering legs steady enough to walk without drawing suspicion. What will we do?

I'm not sure. Should we just go?

We could.

But I don't want to.

Why not?

There's – things to stay for?

Don't go getting fucking attached.

He loved me.

We should cut them out.

What do you mean? The magician?

Yes, cut him out, because we keep thinking about it, thinking – oh, he loved me.

If we're cutting him out we should cut all of them out.

We should have killed the doctor.

Yes.

Let's kill the magician at least.

He called me amata.

Shut the fuck up!

But there's a sensation now, one he's hated as long as he can remember, and he must stop to put his hand against the wall and cover his eyes, biting down on a groan. It feels like his blood is trying to separate from his bones.

He loved me...

Be quiet. My brain is turning against me. Where's his room, do you think?

Ask the receptionist.

But we look like his doctor. We ought to know.

Tell her we heard he'd been moved without our permission and we need to check which room he's in.

Good, yes. The accent...

We can do it, but the magician – my brother –

Stop! Just – if we can do the accent, fine, just come on. I need to make this confusion stop, now.

“Clara!” Thank God for her nametag. “Did they move my brother out of his room? Where is he now?”

Haha, you're so bad at it!

He's so bad at it too so it doesn't matter!

Hahaha.

They come back together under the amusement of it and his bones settle.

“Oh, no, Dr. S, looks like he's still in Room 413. Did you change your hair?”

The fake Henrik rushes away before he can be forced to answer, heading toward the elevator. He's up and about, yes, but he's still much too weak from the drugs and the week of rest to take any stairs.

He gets a few weird looks from nurses on the stairs, but that could also just be because he's Schneep.

I don't – I don't think I want to do this.

Be quiet. Be quiet. Be quiet.

I don't think we want to do this!

There's only one of us! Just be quiet!

“Hey, are you alright?” someone asks him.

“Just leave me alone,” he snarls, leaning against the wall of the elevator as his skin threatens to tears away from his muscles and his skull splits down the center. “Just leave me alone.”

They back off and the elevator falls silent.

I'm doing this. I'm doing what I have to do. There's only me and I'm doing what I have to to ease the pull between us. Now hush and get ready. We won't have much time before Jackie comes.

Jackie... he loved me...

Anti grips his head, furious and despairing, and bites on his tongue until blood wells. It’s time to cut these feelings out of their shared chest before they are both destroyed.

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

“So, as you can see here,” explains Dr. Corrin warmly, holding up some pictures of his brain. “It's in the language-producing center of your brain over here, called Broca's area, which is why you're having difficulty with both spoken language and sign. As a bit of good news, aphasia is something patients often recover from even without speech therapy, though there may be some lasting difficulty in finding the right word, and it's possible the aphasia could give you problems for up to a year. You're already speaking again, though, which is excellent news. And you're having no comprehension difficulties?”

Marvin shakes his head slowly, stroking Jameson's hair.

“That's good.” She keeps her voice soft to let his little brother sleep. “I know this must be hard right now, but I have high hopes you'll make a near-full recovery. There is some other minor brain damage around the same area, but as long as you don't notice any significant impacts on your day-to-day life, I think our best option is letting the brain do what it does best and find new pathways to keep you going. Are they any questions you're able to communicate with me just now?”

He hums sleepily. “Ssssshhh,” he manages, his mouth sliding on the word like it's waiting for more to be there. “My? My?”

“Schneeplestein?” She notices him looking at her coat and badge. Marvin smiles, pleased he's managed to get his point across.

“I'll ask him to come see you soon, okay?” she says, smiling back at him, and he nods his head and lets her get up to go.

The room falls quiet again without her, but he doesn't mind. His pain medication is up nice and high again and after the scary part of the night everything became warm and pleasant again.

He's drifting when the door opens.

“Shhh,” he calls again, happy with the sight of his white coat and glasses. “Pi.”

He reaches out for the book, setting it on his lap over his card pack and waiting for his little brother to come over and read to him.

But one step, two – it is not Henrik standing closer to him.

For a moment, Marvin thinks it's Jack.

Then the syringe comes out of his pocket.

Marvin does not quake or shrink in on himself. His eyes fix on the needle. He looks back up at his little brother.

Anti – Chase – his eyes are unreadable, full of something Marvin does not recognize in blue eyes.

But it doesn't scare him.

“Amata,” he whispers, smiling. “Here.”

“Shut up,” he snarls, rounding the bed, and it is only when he approaches Jameson that Marvin begins to feel afraid. “I'm going to kill you.”

Marvin shakes his head and Jamie's shoulder. JJ comes awake with a snuffle, rubbing at his face as he looks up, and then, before his eyes can even widen in alarm, Anti has grabbed him by the throat.

It is, perhaps, a sad fact of Jameson's life that this is not the first time in his life he has woken up with Anti about his throat, but it is the first time he's woken up with Anti about his throat and a brother high on morphine in the hospital bed beside him, and the terror Marvin sees in his eyes is as clear and as deep as the burn of light in the bulb of an angler fish. But if Henrik freezes up and Marvin becomes careful and reasoning, Jameson's reaction to a sudden attack is exactly what Jackie always hoped it would be – fucking fight.

Marvin would like to tell you he helped – that he screamed, that he thought to press the call button, that he threw something, anything. Marvin would like to tell you he even watched. But the truth is that the moment he saw Jameson rear back with a knife drawn from his coat pocket and Anti recoiling to meet him in battle, he was back in chains and convulsions, watching Anti kill Cottonmouth in his little brother's body.

“Darling,” he wails, once, twice, because he cannot even cry his name. “Darling!”

He hides his face and curls in on himself on the hospital bed, holding his shoulders, trying to breathe. Cottonmouth crumples into her own blood in front of him and he pushes his palms hard into his eyes and groans, gritting his teeth.

“Anti,” he whispers. “Chase. Don't.”

But when he hears the thud of a body slamming into the ground, he knows it isn't Anti.

For a moment, there's only Anti's breathing and the shaking of his own heart in his chest. He peers out of his fingers, needing to know if JJ is alive, but all he can see is his little brother's face turned away from him on the tiles of the floor, still.

Anti stalks forward and grabs him.

To his credit, Marvin does not scream or sob even as his flashback near consumes him. He clings furtively to Chase's hands and closes his eyes. The rapid thudding of his heart suddenly stops registering on the heart monitor as Anti manipulates the tech. The nurses won't notice anything wrong.

“What did you wake up in me?” hisses his brother, pushing him down hard against the hospital bed. Needles shift in Marvin's body and he whimpers. “Why are you all making me feel a thousand different things? This is worse than I first melded into this fucking flesh.”

Marvin breathes in, out. Trying to stay steady. Trying to stay steady.

“Look at me,” snarls Anti.

Marvin does not. Marvin does not open his eyes.

“Look at me,” screams Chase.

“Hear you,” warns Marvin in a croak, sliding open his eyes and glaring up at him even as tears run down his cheeks.

“Stop crying,” he answers, his face darkening with frustration. “Stop!”

The needle of a syringe leaps up in his hand and presses into Marvin's throat. He closes his eyes again and lets it sink against the first layer of his flesh, threatening to go deeper.

“Too high to be afraid of me? Huh? Is that it? I'll make you fucking beg.”

Marvin almost laughs. If this isn't terror – if the memory of being hung up in those chains as the poison coursed through him isn't real terror – he doesn't know what is. But Anti's hands reach out to adjust his drug dose and Marvin's heart drops with his morphine levels. Almost immediately, he feels the effects. It's like his skin, his body, his heart has become real again, real in a world much colder than he remembers. He's being recreated. This is what it feels like, isn't it?

Cosmic and mortal at the same time, his atoms are flung into arrangement after long years of drifting, and he is a tree raised from the earth, suddenly standing, suddenly bodied, suddenly aware and alive and staring at the world.

Drifting, confused, scared. Yeah, he remembers. This is what it feels like to be created.

He just doesn't remember it hurting this much.

He doesn't remember anything ever hurting this much, because he's been trying not to think about what happened to him that day on those chains, and oh, oh, oh, it's here with him again now.

The needle presses deeper into his throat. He can hear Anti – no, Chase, his Chase, his Chase in pain – breathing harshly above him, trying to make himself do it.

“Don't feel guilty,” he hears himself sob.

“What?”

He clings to his wrists. He clings, clings, clings to his little brother's wrists. Amata, amata, Chase, the only word left on his mouth, the only thing left that matters, his heart, his heart.

“I love you.”

Aphasia, or the inability to produce language, is not an uncommon result of brain damage. An interesting fact about this condition, however, is that, at times, while it may be impossible for a person to form the sentences or words they'd like to say, it may well be possible for them to recite memorized or familiar phrases. For example, someone might not be able to express their congratulations to a family member on their birthday, but when everyone begins singing “happy birthday,” they are able to join in just as loud and as clearly as anyone else.

There are phrases Marvin knows. There are recitations imprinted on his heart. And if you had told him that a week ago, he would have laughed and made fun of you, because, as he would assure you, that is much too soft for him, but this is not a week ago.

This is now. His kidneys have failed twice. He was tortured for three hours straight. His little brother has been missing for six months and now, here he is.

It is Anti also, or somewhat, or sort of, or something, but Marvin has never known Anti beyond legends and a battle or two, and what he sees – what he feels, what he hears, what he smells – this is Chase, Chase with his sad, lovely eyes, Chase with hair that goes gold in the right light, Chase with this bizarre and ever-present vanilla smell on his tired palms, Chase, Chase, Chase.

Marvin is laughing before he knows why, laughing as Anti tries to put the needle in his neck.

“I love you better than stars and suns,” he recites, his own spells, his own poetry. “I would like to make a constellation of you, stella amata, beloved, my heart. Blue eyes, brother. Amata, I'm here. Amata, I'm here. Come lie down with me. I love you. Chase, do you want to come with me? Just breathe deep. What can I do to help? Are you with me? I know how hard you're trying, I know you're doing your best.”

A litany of remembered things, left over from every time Marvin has comforted him or been comforted by him. A litany of their brotherhood.

“Stop,” he cries.

Marvin begins to quote in earnest. Brothers and songwriters and authors.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Stay with me, my brother. Here I am. I can't lose you. The weather would be just right, requiring a light sweater mornings and evenings, and something short-sleeved midday.”

“You're just babbling,” he howls, pressing him down bodily into that hospital bed, until they are chest-to-chest but for the book on Marvin's chest and the cards beneath it. Marvin's head is clearing again the longer he looks at it. He knows he needs to try and speak on his own again. He knows he needs to try and save him. His brother. His Chase.

“Scared,” he whispers, touching his cheek, and he groans and ducks his head, holding that needle against his throat in a trembling hand. “I know. Scared.”

“No... No, I'm not s-scared...”

Marvin could sing for Chase's stammer. He caresses his beard, dark and unkempt. His free hand traces down his own chest, careful.

“Don't feel guilty,” he murmurs, reaching back to touch his hair, to stroke his head like he had Jamie's only minutes before. “If pain. Me, darling.”

“You should be worrying about yourself, not us!” he shrieks. “We're not going to feel guilty for killing you! I'm not! And I'll, I'll... I'll take the black and white one with me again! Yes! Our baby brother! And he'll quiet all this noise! I won't feel alone anymore!”

“Not feel alone anymore,” whispers Marvin, tears hot and red on his cheeks, from the pain, from the fear, from the love of him. “Not alone.”

“I'll make it stop, I'll make it stop.” He is shaking his head back and forth above him and they both know he does not believe himself. “We have to make it stop, we just want – I just want – ”

“Chase,” whispers Marvin. “Cast him out.”

“I c-can't!”

“Yes, Chase. Yes.”

“No, I can't, I've tried, I've tried! For months, Marvin, for months, I tried so hard, I did. I wanted so badly to come home to all of you.”

Marvin sobs and clings to his face, his free hand finally reaching his card pack.

“I was so scared, I just want this to stop, we both do!”

“Cast him out. Cast him out. You – you are my sunshine, I'm here, stella amata, the weather would be just right... Chase, here, here.”

“Marvin!” cries Chase. “Please, please help me.”

“No, stop,” shouts something else beneath his skin.

“It hurts!” they both shriek, falling slightly away from the bed.

Marvin grabs their hand.

For a moment, Chase and Anti both stare at him, and there is a silence and an ocean between them, and the world is a rocking, moving thing, and they are anchored together in white palms and white fingers and twin tattoos along their right arms, and they see each other.

“Get the fuck out, Anti,” says Marvin, and he pulls out his King of Hearts and finishes the spell he meant to finish in that basement a week ago.

Light burns between the two of them and they scream as they fall back, their flesh singed by the force of the spell, a black heart scalding into their neck. He – they – whoever and whatever this creature is – trips back over Jameson and falls to the ground beside him.

“Marvin!” Screaming down the hall. “Marvin!”

The door opens and slams into the wall. Jackie does not hesitate even to look around, just pounces towards Anti.

“Stay back!” he screams, scrabbling to his feet and bringing Jameson's body with him, the syringe pressed against his throat. “You stay the fuck away from me!”

“No, you get the fuck away from him,” cries Jackie, teeth snarling. “Let him go. Anti, you're bleeding already. Give up.”

He's right. He realizes with a start that blood is tracing its way down his cheek, bleeding from his eye. Or – is it blood? It's dark as ink.

“Big brother,” croaks Marvin. “Careful, careful.”

“I'm here, Marvelous, I'm here. Anti, stop!”

He's maneuvering toward the door. With JJ in his arms, unconscious and pressed against that needle, Jackie doesn't know what to do to stop him. His first instinct is tackling, as it always is, but that might not end well.

“I've got a tracker on JJ,” says Jackie. Well, he's got his location on on his phone, anyway. “If you try to take him or any of my brothers away again, I'll find you.”

Anti bites his teeth at him, standing in the doorway with JJ slumped across his chest. He can hear more people coming. He's sure Jackie brought security.

But those are the least of his problems right now.

The sensation of his bones and his blood separating, of his skin peeling off from his flesh, of his heart pulsing to get out of his chest, of something being wrong inside him, of something needing to escape every cuticle of his flesh –

This is worse than it's ever been.

He turns his head, and, when he is sick, something black is leaking out of his mouth.

What is this? What's happening? He did something to me!

That's... you? Isn't it? The real you. Without me.

He slams Marvin's door shut behind him and drops Jameson in front of it, shoving him against the crack beneath the wood to slow Jackie, turning to sprint down the hall.

No, please, we can't run. I'm so tired...

Stop fucking whining!

His gait stumbles and he falls, crashing hard to the ground and drawing startled gasps all around him before he can get up again, throwing himself into a closing elevator. He shares a tense elevator ride with a terrified-looking twelve-year-old who won't take her gaze off his own bleeding eyes, trying to get his breath back before sprinting back out of the elevator and into the world.

Please, I want to go back to my brothers! I want my brothers to look after me! I think we can get separate again, please!

But he isn't listening to the voice inside his head right now.

His bones are splitting. His nerves are unraveling. Inside his head, neurons don't know which way to go.

He's coming apart. And when it's over, he doesn't think he'll have a body anymore.

He's afraid.

He runs.

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

Jackie knows where to go.

Jameson is bleeding heavy from the shoulder and his neck is blue with bruising. Jackie heaves him up in his arms and deposits his little brother gently in the bed beside Marvin's, checking for the pulse of his heart beneath his injured throat before turning to race after Anti. He hollers something about nurses, security, cops. Doesn't know what. They're safe here. Jameson and Marvin and Henrik will be looked after. They have to be. What matters now is Chase.

And he knows where to go. Jamie showed him.

He sprints down the street, down the pavement, panting hard, his body working like a machine, his feet pounding sturdy and swift against the concrete. People pass to let him go. Perhaps they can see the ferocity in his face.

He lost Chase once. Last week, he lost Marvin. All his life, his family has come and gone, through kidnappings and comas, imprisonment and loss. But today?

Today he brings his brothers home.

He picks up his pace and the wind makes way for him too. Today, he will not be late.

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

His gait slows.

His gaits slows to a snail crawl.

He staggers

He staggers

He staggers away from the building.

Lights burn around him in horrible gold and white, stinging against his aching eyes.

He can hear a low, desperate keening –

“Marvin... Marvin... Marvin...”

Over and over again.

That's not his voice, is it?

He's pretty sure he's the one groaning. He's pretty sure he's the one everyone's staring at, pausing on the pavement to call out in concern and whisper.

He's pretty sure he's covered in somebody else's blood.

His brain has turned to mush as everything inside him tears about and he no longer knows where he's running. Hot tears course down his cheeks. He clutches at his shirt and realizes he's aching for something soft to hold. A hand, a warm body, or maybe just a plush seal toy squished into a stuffie pancake.

“My baby,” he hears that distant, familiar voice whisper. “Hunter... my son...”

He has no child. He has no family. He is what remains and what remains is all that there is.

A sting cuts through his neck again and he screams, staggering against the cold wall of an alleyway. Something is in his blood! He can feel it! Poison, poison!

“What is happening to me?” he screams. “Something's inside of me! Marvin! Marvin! Marvin!”

He wants his big brother. He wants his big brother right now.

There is no big brother, there is no one left that he loves, if Marvin were to show his face to him he'd drive a knife into his heart and put a bullet through his skull just for good measure!

The sting pierces through him. The hot burn of something purer than his tainted blood. He is sobbing, heaving, sinking down beside a garbage can in a dirty alleyway beside a road to towards the hospital, wrapping his arms around himself. When did he get so skinny? When did he forget so much of himself? He can't even remember his name – a C? An H? An A?

Marvin spoke it. Marvin spoke it like it was the only word left that mattered. Marvin loved him.

I won't be thrown out of this flesh now! This body belongs to me! This body is me! I don't... what happens if I'm torn apart?

“A – Anti,” stammers his aching mouth. “Anti.”

“That name no longer means anything.” He is alone. He speaks to himself. They speak to each other. “Do we really have to go back to struggling?”

“I feel like I'm always struggling... I can't remember...”

“We don't need to remember. I have you and you have me. There is nothing left of the man you once were. If we could just settle down again!”

“P-poison... you are a poison... Marvin is sending you out...”

The pain lances through his ribs, spreading out across his body. He wails as the hurt only grows and grows, hyperventilating against the cool metal of the dumpster.

“You stole me from them!” he screams, trying to think. “I was going – I was going to see my child! My children! You stole me away from my children! From my brothers! Marvin! Marvin!”

Quiet. Something hateful and commanding arises in his head for the first time in weeks and he chokes, grabbing at his hair. I spliced you into myself once already. I will do it again. Marvin is gone and his magic was weak. You are alone with me. And if someone is leaving this body, then I will be the one to drive you out, Chase. This could kill me. I need to be separated but what if it kills me? What if I die here?

“You're... scared...”

“Chase!” someone shouts. “Chase!”

And then Jackie is there, Jackie is there, Jackie is holding him.

“Please,” he begs, he sobs, he wails; he writhes against Jackie's arms, struggles with him on the cold cement of the alleyway. “Please, it burns me!”

“Let Anti burn away,” he pants, only holding him tighter, only holding him tighter the harder he struggles. “Let Anti burn away. Come back to me. Come back home. I never meant to let you go. I'm sorry. It's me, it's Jackie. You have to remember who you are.”

Jackie smells like home. Pressed into his sweatshirt, Chase can hear again every word that Marvin spoke to him, can feel the touch of Jameson's forgiving body wrapped around his own, can see Henrik looking after him even though it terrified him.

“You know who you are,” whispers Jackie, sinking down to the pavement with him, holding him, careful with the heart-shaped burn singed into his neck. “Come back to me.”

We discover who we are in many ways. Perhaps most of all, we see ourselves in the love we have for others. In the way we love, in the fierceness with which we do. Chase knows himself, yes, after long months. He can see himself in the way Jackie is holding him and in the way he hugs him back, clinging to his brother's sweatshirt, burying his face against his chest.

Trusting his family to save him.

He is terribly ill for long minutes, sick and convulsing as the poison leaves him. Jackie's shirt soaks with the most horrible black ink. It won't come out in the wash. He doesn't care. Chase is here.

“I've got you,” he says, holding one-fourth of the world in his arms. “I've got you. I won't let him take you away again.”

The black ink runs down the brick of the alleyway where Jameson was standing a few days past with his little tray of hospital food. He knew this place would be important. He knew they would have to come here again.

Chase shudders, cries, stills against his chest.

Jackie looks down and sees the blackness creeping together as though magnetic on the brick, and then it is rising, it is forming, it is standing; it is Anti.

His face is drizzling so much black ink he can hardly keep his simulated body together, slumped and staggering, hollow and dazed. His eyes are dead. Jackie has never seen him stand still for so long.

His head rises, exhausted, and he does not breathe or move or speak a word. He only looks at Jackie. The blackness drips off of him – plink. Plink. Plink.

Jackie holds Chase. Jackie stares at him.

Anti closes his eyes and his mouth, and he lifts his hand to his chin, and then draws it away again in one of the first words of sign language Jackie ever learned.

Thank you.

Jackie should get up and hurt him. Jackie should find a way to hurt him. Jackie should kill him.

He doesn't.

The blackness collapses back into liquid. A rat scatters by. Anti's essence fills the squeaking animal up and, a moment later, they are both slipping away down the drain together, leaving nothing but drips of inky blood on the red brick behind them.

Jackie pulls Chase slightly away from himself to look at his little brother. Dazed and still bleeding sluggishly from the eyes, Chase can only snuffle and blink thick and slow, his eyes half-way closed, clinging to Jackie's shirt.

“I got you, Chaser,” whispers Jackie, slipping his arms beneath him. Chase sighs sleepily and wraps his arms around Jackie's chest as he is lifted into his arms, pressing his face against his brother's warm chest. “I got you. And I won't let you go again.”

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

A white

room.

White lights. White bedsheets. White brothers, haha. Marvin grins. He's on morphine again, but he's still crying by the time he comes to, hot wet tears tracing softly down his face.

“Marvin,” someone whispers.

“Jackie,” his mouth manages, and they share a smile there over the whiteness of the bedsheets, holding each other's hands.

Marvin's eyes drift to the rest of the room. His heart warms like grass in the sun. The bed across from his own is, at last, full.

“Okay?” he asks.

“He will be,” answers Jackie softly. “We'll make sure.”

Just like they always do. Just like they promised each other when they were young. We'll look after them. No matter what it takes.

Marvin looks down at himself.

This, he thinks. This is what it took.

“Hey,” he mumbles, pointing at the clock beside his table. It's 9:03. “Survived... night.”

“Survived the night? Oh. Yeah. That last kidney scare was yesterday. You survived the rest of the night and then the day and then this night too.” Jackie smiles at him. “Sleeping beauty.”

Marvin throws his hair in mock pride for his Aurora-levels of beauty and sends Jackie into a mini giggling fit, bent over his hand and squeezing tight.

“So... okay?” he murmurs, pointing at himself.

“There will be some complications,” says Jackie gently. “With your diet and your speech and your... your mental health, too. But everything's going to turn out alright, Marv. You made it. You're a survivor, Marv. And you helped Chase too.”

Marvin smiles up at him. Jackie praises and reassures, massaging at his palm, his eyes full of warmth. He has to keep quiet, though, because it appears they've gotten into a habit of sleeping in this room – Henrik is at Chase's side, crashed beside his brother's legs, snoring into his knees. Jameson is sitting up in the middle of the two beds, quiet and still, his throat bandaged.

“Darling?” asks Marvin. “Okay?”

JJ turns slowly about. His eyes are bright silver.

“Uh-oh,” says Jackie, reaching out his free hand for him. “Got a trance, looks like. Doing okay, buddy? You with us?”

JJ's mouth quirks dazedly and he nods.

“Good,” says Jackie, reassured. “You're getting a better handle on it already.”

Marvin reaches out his hand for him too and Jamie turns to take it, smiling warmly at him.

“See?” signs Marvin, not quite able to find the words for 'what happens now, Jameson?'

The tilt of his mouth blooms into a full smile.

“I see you, and me, and Jackie, and Chase, and Henrik,” he says.

“Is that all?” asks Jackie.

“No,” says JJ. “But that's all that matters.”

Chase shifts in his sleep and his hand finds Henrik's. All five of them are warm in the hospital room. Outside, the snow falls white and glowing in the morning sun.

[alexhandersenx]

There’s no one to save me

Ivar/Reader (Modern AU)

A/N: Hi everyone! First and most important thing, HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!💕🎉🎂 @flowers-in-your-hayr I want to wish you all the best on this day, I hope you enjoy this day as much as possible and hope this can make it a bit better! This year may not have been our best birthdays but next year we’ll celebrate them twice! You know I really admire your work but much more as a person! Thank you for always being so so nice, you’re great!💖

Second, here it is, me and my shitty writing. This is the first time I ever write anything (you’ll see) but a lovely little bird came and told me about this amazing surprise (@maggiescarborough​ 💖) and I couldn’t refuse. This is the moodboard I chose bc when I asked Gabi about it, I wrote more of a mini fic than a request (sorry about that, honey😅) so I thought it’ll be easier since I already have an idea.

And finally, to say that this can be considered as the first chapter of a small fic???, Idk,  if you want to read something else, I will continue it and if not, it can stay as a imagine. (Any feedback you want to give is always welcomed and will help me in the future!)

Okay that’s all, I think. Now I'll shut my mouth and let you guys read in peace😊

All credits to this amazing moodboard for the birthday girl @flowers-in-your-hayr​

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: First time writing (biggest warning), mention of death and suicide, cursing, drug dealing, a bit of angst, English not being my mother tongue. (I’m not sure if something else😅).

There you were, (Y/N) (Y/LN), facing the most important case you had encountered in your professional career, which, to tell the truth, was not very long. You were 24 years old and you were a policewoman at the local police station on a small island called Samsø, which together with some others as Læsø, Anholt and Sjælland were known as the 'Kattegat Islands'.

You started there when you were 22, with a lot of effort and after years of dedication, yes, it may sound like a joke, since you were very young, but since your father passed away, you decided to follow in his footsteps. He had become chief of police and worked in what was now your office. His death occurred unexpectedly, one day he went to work and didn't come back, your mother and you didn't know anything, but he had been working on a drug-related case for a long time, and they didn't clarify anything for you after his death either, justifying that it was a case of high danger and a secret file.

When your father died, you were given the belongings he was carrying on the day of his death. You didn't find anything out of the ordinary, just his watch, which had his initials on it, the car keys and his wallet, in which he carried the usual: some money, credit cards and a picture of  your mother and you as a child. From one of the compartments of the wallet, a small fragment of a photo was sticking out. It was very enlarged, only a small part of the face could be seen, it looked like a man, but his face didn't sound familiar to you and besides the fragment was very damaged, so you didn't give it much importance. Although you were intrigued to know the reason for that fragment in your father's wallet and you wanted to know the identity of that person, unfortunately you couldn't do anything about it. You put the items back in the bag and kept it in a drawer that you knew you wouldn't open often since it was with the rest of his belongings.

After this incident, you and your mother faced a difficult time when living at home without him was almost impossible. After a not very long period, you were able to return to your daily life and continued, but however, your mother did not get back on her feet, she went into a great depression. You tried psychologists at first and slowly it looked like she was getting better, but it seems she only did it to fall into an even bigger black hole.

From then on, you contacted a psychiatrist, after a year watching your mother was consumed with sadness you couldn't stand it any longer, even though she was resistant to taking medication you couldn't do anything else. She had been going to the psychiatrist for some time and the truth was that it wasn't going as you expected, your mother had a very negative attitude. She tried to avoid medication when you didn't force her, and for that reason none of the treatments worked.

You were desperate, time was passing, and you didn't know what to do anymore, until one day when you came home and you found your mother breathing very lightly and not responding to any kind of stimulus. She had decided to take her own life with a bottle of pills, yes, how ironic. When she was taken to the hospital, the doctors told you that her vital signs were very bad, the intake of medication had to be over six hours ago, and this had already affected a large part of the system. It was very difficult for her to survive, so much so that she couldn't.

21 years, just 21 years when you were left alone in the world, when everyone was getting drunk and having a hangover and throwing up the next morning, you were there struggling to get where you were today.

Although you couldn't have reached that point without the unconditional support of your father's great friend, Officer Heahmund. He had been like a second father to you, the only one you could lean on when these events occurred. Both he and his wife Anne and their little twins always had a place for you.

You could say you'd been investigating the case for a year and it was huge, really huge. Both you and your colleagues had reached an impasse, you couldn't get anything new, so you decided to take the reins and make a proposal... raid the shelter where the organization was hiding. You had managed, after a long time of tracking them down, to find out that every Thursday at 11.30 p.m. they went out to do business. If you calculated it perfectly, you could set up an ambush, surround the perimeter with your agents strategically, and force your way in, so you could examine the interior for clear, incriminating evidence and wait for them to come back and finally catch them and finish the damn case. From that point on, the game would begin.

Ivar Lothbrook, or also known as Ivar the Boneless, was the person you were chasing. Known to be the leader of the organization. Information about him was quite scarce, the son of a bitch knew how to remain anonymous, you didn't even know what he looked like. Although he also took part in the weekly excursions, he never got out of the vehicle they were in and you didn't dare get close enough to the shelter to see them leave, just as a precaution, so as not to spoil the case. All you knew was that the nickname he had earned was due to a disease he suffered from that made him unable to walk, Osteogenesis Imperfecta.

But you did know something else about his brothers, who were in charge of leading the band when they were doing field work and his brother Ivar was not there. There were three more brothers, the elder Ubbe, the second Hvitserk and the last Sigurd. You had pictures of them, which you had studied to a tee, and they didn't have any kind of background, something that caught your attention because in all these bands it's something common, but it seems that they were playing clean.

Tomorrow would be the big day and you had no margin for error. You decided to leave it at that, not think about it anymore. You opened a bottle of wine and ordered dinner at your favourite restaurant. You were going to enjoy that night quietly before going into action.

That night you practically didn't rest, your head didn't stop thinking and you were fighting against it for a long time, until finally you were victorious, being able to sleep. You promised yourself that it wouldn't be the only thing you would be victorious in.

The sound of the alarm woke you up, it was very early, although there were still hours to go, you had to be ready and needed to do certain things before preparing. You had arranged to meet at 8pm at the police station, you would go over the plan and wait until 10.30pm to put the plan into action. The day went away, you had gone out to buy some things that you needed, you had done some sport to clear your mind and you had taken a bath for an hour and a half which helped to relax each of your muscles that had been in constant tension for several days.

You got out of the shower, you started to fix yourself and for a moment you looked in the mirror, from bottom to top, and you looked into your eyes, you saw your father, you saw him in you.

- “Ivar, Ivar, what little freedom you have left” - You said in a defiant voice as you kept looking at yourself and feeling sure that everything would go as you planned.

What you didn't consider at the time is that in a game you don't always win, and even less when you don't know your opponent.

A phone call took you out of your thoughts, you hesitated for a few seconds before reacting, you went into the kitchen and picked up the phone:

- “Hi, (Y/N) here”.

- “Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” Your boss asked with some concern in his voice.

-  “I'm doing good, getting ready to leave soon. Anything happened?”

-  “No, nothing, I just wanted to remind you, that you still have time to stop this, I can send another partner, I don't want you to do this out of obligation” - said Heahmund, with some hesitation.

- “Heahmund, we've talked about this a million times, I'm gonna take care of it. We've gone over the plan every day; we've looked at alternatives in case the first option doesn't work out and you have an expert in infiltrating other people's homes in charge of the plan... What can go wrong? Trust me, before you can tell, we're in your backyard drinking beers with Anne and the girls, celebrating together as a family, while Ivar the Boneless is rotting in jail” - You said with certainty

- “Ever since you were a little girl I've always admired that about you: Determined, brave and a fighter, which has always made you achieve everything you set out to do - he answered with a broken voice” - I just wanted to wish you the best of luck in the world now that no one is around. See you in a bit, Agent 007.

As he spoke you noticed some concern in his voice, was Heahmund afraid of the mission?... Impossible, he was known for his courage and dedication but in this situation,  you could not avoid that this insecurity that you did not feel for a long time will hit you again.

Since the death of your father you had changed, you had become steel, as you said, you had no heart for anyone, you had focused so much on getting ahead and getting what you had in mind that you had forgotten one very important thing, being a teenager. And now that time was gone.

Still, you burst out laughing when he called you Agent 007

- “Thank you, Jack Bauer” - you said, playing along, referring to those movies and action shows you loved to watch together when you were younger.

You hung up and then felt a sense of emptiness and… fear? No, you weren't going to let that happen. You certainly knew that you had to occupy your mind at that moment, or you would go crazy. So, you connected your phone to the speaker and put on your favourite playlist and time passed with you getting ready until it was time to leave. You took the bike keys, a beautiful Harley-Davidson and got going.

When you arrived at the police station your colleagues and Heahmund were already there, you went over the plan and waited for the exact time to start.

It was 11:15, the game had begun. You were about to head for the first stop on your mission. The aim in this phase was to park in the surroundings of the main highway, where Ivar and his people had to go through, so you could check that everything was in order, and that the usual Thursday trip would take place. You arrived before time, it was night and the highway was slightly illuminated by distant lanterns. The place had been carefully chosen as there were certain points where you could wait in stealth.

As time passed, you became more and more nervous and couldn't help it. There was something in your head that wouldn't let you concentrate. Heahmund noticed it and said:

-  “What's going on in that little head, (Y/N)?” - He said in a sweet tone.

-  “Hmm...nothing, I'm fine” - you whispered as you looked for his glance and smiled.

-  “Come on, (Y/N), I know you too well to know that something is bothering you”

- “Ugh, I hate you Heahmund… what if they don't come, if for whatever reason today doesn't happen” - you said losing your nerve a little

-  “Hey, hey, hey and this? Where's my little fighter? They're going to do it, you'll see, and before dawn they'll all be behind bars”

- “How can you be so sure?”

- “I just know” - he said with confidence and came up to you kissing you on the head

You needed it, you needed someone telling you that everything would be fine, with your 24 years you were tired of playing grown-up, strong and lonely. You had always needed that love, but that side of you was known only by Heahmund and he had always been there to give it to you.

You did not have much more time to get melancholy, it was happening, Ivar and his people could be seen from afar. They were organized in three black armoured cars and four motorcycles guarding the sides. You saw how they passed before you, in a heartbeat everything you had feared had happened, the only part of the plan that did not fall on you had worked. Now everything depended on you. You waited a few minutes and both of you, along with several patrol cars, set off. Some of your colleagues stayed in the place so that they could control when they returned and thus warn those of you who were going to the shelter.

Second stop on the mission, the shelter. Ivar and his people owned an apartment building where they used to stay permanently, it was on the outskirts of town, in the middle of nowhere. You had left your vehicles a few meters behind, also hidden, so as not to cause any noise. You found yourselves walking quietly in the dark with your guns in hand, towards an old building. When you reached the right distance, you appreciated the immensity of the building with enough housing to accommodate several families. The facade was neglected, yellowish-coloured, and you could see the doors of each house, white and many of them peeling and battered. Plus, right next door was what looked like a big warehouse. Everything was surrounded by metal fences.

Your companions began to take their positions as you had planned and you and Heahmund continued to approach, until you reached the side of the fence so that you could climb without attracting attention.

You looked at Heahmund and nodded just as you turned to move forward alone you noticed how he grabbed your arm, your heart racing as he said:

- “I'll keep an eye on everything that happens, the moment I hear something out of the ordinary, even if you don't say the code word, we'll get in and get you out”

- “Damn, Heahmund, you scared me... yes, I know, don't worry” - you said losing your patience a little

And now it was time, holding your SIG Sauer firmly in your hands and checking for the last time that the microphone you were holding in the middle of your bra was properly placed, you were ready to move forward. You approached the front door of the warehouse. If there was anything interesting to look for, it would be there. You pulled the lock pick out of your pocket and picked the lock easily. You opened the door a couple of inches, at that moment your heart felt like it was going to come out of its socket. You checked that the light inside was off, you continued to open it completely and you went inside quietly. It was all dark, you stood still for a few seconds to pay attention to all the sound around you. You could only hear the “tick tock” of a clock. You looked at the wall for a light switch, found it and turned it on. Several fluorescent lights illuminated the big warehouse, some of them failing and blinking making the place even more scary. For a few seconds the light blinded you because of the contrast of the dark night to which your eyes had been used so far. You took a quick look, ducked your head and whispered into the microphone:

- “Clear”

You raised your head and for the first time you stopped to look around. It was immense, the walls were covered with high shelves where there were pots of all kinds, some were full and some were empty, there were boxes, masks, safety goggles, gloves and all kinds of chemical devices. There was a long table on the side with many chairs, some lying on the floor, others on top of the table... that place reminded you of a typical high school lab from which the most you could do was decant a mixture. You were surprised... they were cooking drugs there... "Well, what a dump" you said to yourself; you thought everything would be much more careful and not such a messy place as that.

And in the middle of all that mess, at the end of the room you found a big wooden desk and a big black leather armchair behind it, it seemed that that little space didn't belong in the room, it was all tidy and on the table the only thing that was there was some papers, small pictures and office material. You approached and saw some maps with certain points marked... What were these points? You thought that it could be some meeting place or points of sale, you took out the PDA and uploaded the photo to the police station network.

- “I think I found something, I just uploaded it to the network” -You said in a whisper

You didn't have any answers, nor did you notice much of it, since you got caught up in a huge painting right behind the desk. In it appeared a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair. It was just a painting, but you could feel the elegance of that woman in it. Next to her was a taller man who looked slightly older, shaven and with a long beard with white locks. He was in a suit and showed a great presence just like the woman. But there was something that caught your attention, the look of him, his intense blue eyes seemed to pierce you as if you were seeing them in person. The wrinkles at the corner of his eyes betrayed his maturity. You stared for a while, curious, until you came back to reality, took a quick look again to see if anything could be useful, but nothing. So, you retraced your steps and headed for the door. You tried to communicate with your colleagues again:

- “Guys, nothing else around here, I'm going back to my starting position” - You whispered again.

And at that moment you froze, you were listening to yourself double and your "double" was coming right out the door. Time stopped for you, you didn't understand anything, and the only thing you could think of was to hide behind the door. This one opened little by little and you started to listen how people came in... one, two, three... you were counting the steps to be able to calculate the number of people, you lost the count to the fifth since such a quantity would be impossible to face and come out victorious.

- “SHHHH, shut up... do you hear it?” - said a male voice you didn't recognize.

What you could hear was your breathing shaking through a walkie... at that moment the world fell apart. A police walkie in the hands of those assholes, something hadn't gone right, and you didn't know what.

- “Yeah, it smells weird too, doesn't it?” - said another male voice, but this one sounded much more ironic.

- “I don't know Ivar I don't smell anything... what do you smell?” - Said a third voice, the closest so far to your position.

- “Mmm I don't know it's a disgusting smell, something like... police”

At that very moment they closed the door, leaving you exposed. You saw five men, but you didn't have time for much else as the one closest to you, that you came to recognize was Ubbe, grabbed your arm and made a quick movement blocking it, causing your gun to fall to the ground. He drew you to his body by placing your back to him and holding your neck with his arm, doing a lock around it to immobilize you. You looked ahead, saw a young man slowly approaching you and examining you from bottom to top until your eyes connected, deep blue and intimidating gaze. To tell the truth, he was a very attractive guy, but that idea was automatically erased when you remembered who he was. Something stirred in your stomach, you didn't know if it was fear, hate or a mixture. Slowly a cynical smile appeared in his mouth. Definitely, it was disgust what you had noticed in your stomach seconds ago. You could have tried to get out of that grip, but you didn't see the point, they were five men over six feet. It was impossible, to get out of there. Ubbe kept pressing his arm against your neck, causing your senses to slowly fade away.

- “Well, well, and I thought this wasn't going to be fun" said the boy in front of you in a hesitant voice. - Nice to meet you, I am Ivar Lothbrook - he said extending his hand

That was the last thing you could see and hear before you lost total control over your body and thus your senses.

The game had started... like a shitty one.