#woke up so sick with anxiety I barely ate breakfast so I’m trying to keep busy hahahahaha

[skyward-floored]

Breath of the Wild - oneshot

Another oneshot cross-posted from ao3 :) I love botw so so much, it holds a special place in my heart as one of my favorite games (I played it daily for more then two years straight, I was obsessed), and this was my little way of capturing some of my love for it.

Ao3 link

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“Link, where are we going? You can’t keep me in the dark forever,” Zelda’s voice asked, trusting, but likely tired of the fact that she hadn’t been able to see for the past almost-hour.

Link smiled at the huff in her voice, before remembering she couldn’t see it due to the fact that her eyes were closed. She’d been wearing a loose blindfold on the trip here, but he trusted her enough not to peek now that they were close. In fact...

He gave her arm a light tap, and pulled her to a stop, looking out at where he’d brought her.

“Well, why don’t you see for yourself?” he asked, feeling his smile grow, “we’re here.”

Zelda opened her eyes, blinking a little to adjust, then let out a surprised oh!

Link had brought her to the shores of Lanayru Bay, the two of them standing only a few paces from the water. Waves lapped at the shore, wind softly whistling through the rocks, and the sky was perfectly clear above their heads, stars dazzlingly bright. It was the picture of calm, and Zelda looked around at the small beach, watching a crab scuttle by, admiring the stars, turning backwards to watch the fireflies in the grass behind them.

Link watched her with a smile, for once not too concerned about their surroundings.

He’d snuck over early that morning to clear out any and all monsters that might’ve returned since the last time he’d been here, endless lizalfos scattering the hills and lurking in the water. And while he still sported several dark colored bruises from the lynel that had been around as well, it had been completely worth it to see the look now on Zelda’s face.

Her smiles were always much too few and far between.

Zelda slipped off her shoes and toed closer to the water, and Link followed her, watching the way the breeze blew her golden hair.

“It’s beautiful out here Link, but I must ask... why this spot?” she questioned, and Link hummed.

“Do you remember when we were talking about what you could see while you were holding back the Calamity?” he asked quietly, and Zelda nodded, face falling just a little at the reminder of Ganon. “You... mentioned this was one of the places you wanted to visit sometime.” Link scratched his neck a little self-consciously as he spoke, but Zelda nodded, and he continued. “And when we were in Hateno, Purah told me the stars would be special tonight. I thought since we were already in Kakariko, it was a good time to come out here.”

“Oh the Loft meteor shower, I’d forgotten!” Zelda gasped, excitement shining in her eyes. “I suppose we’re right around it’s peak, aren’t we?”

Link tilted his head in a confused way at her, and Zelda smiled, wide and bright.

“A meteor shower Link, that’s what Purah meant. Oh this is wonderful, we’ll get a great view of it out here!”

Zelda hopped back out of the water, grabbing her shoes but not putting them on as she walked up into the grass and towards the hills.

“Come on, let’s find a good spot to watch!”

Link blinked, then quickly followed after her with a chuckle, jogging a little to catch up with her strides. Zelda soon found a spot she was happy with, and settled down onto the grass, eyes sparkling as a few streaks of light began to flicker across the sky.

Link settled in next to her, and they watched the stars in contented silence for a while, Zelda making a quiet noise of excitement whenever a particularly bright one streaked by.

As fascinating as the sky was, Link soon found his gaze slipping from the view above him to the girl he sat next to, her green eyes bright with starlight as she watched the meteors fall. She was sitting almost against him, their legs only a few inches apart, and the urge to close the distance and put an arm around her shoulders suddenly hit him like a guardian laser.

...Could he? Was he allowed to do that? Things were certainly different after a hundred years, but could he just do that?

Would she mind?

Mouth suddenly dry as he made up his mind, he swallowed, then inched closer to her, cautiously extending an arm. His fingers had almost touched her shoulder when Zelda suddenly let out a loud gasp, and he jumped at the noise.

Link grabbed at his sword in preparation for trouble, cheeks a bit pink, but he soon realized there was no threat. Zelda was still staring up at the sky, astonishment on her face as an extra-bright streak of light flew by, and Link perked up at the familiar sight. It streaked toward a nearby hillside, and Zelda continued to stare at where it had flown.

“Link, that looked like it hit the ground, I didn’t know— is that a light? Did it really land?” she gasped, and Link grinned at her and extended his hand.

“Why don’t you come see?”

She took it with an excited smile, and they trekked across the hillside, fireflies drifting out of their way. It didn’t take them long to reach the glowing site where the star fragment had landed, and Link kneeled down and picked up the perfectly formed crystal.

Zelda kneeled next to him and watched him hold it out to her, another small oh! escaping her lips at the sight of the glowing stone in his hands. The warm light from the crystal made her eyes sparkle as she looked down at it, her hair lighting up into liquid gold when she leaned closer, and Link found himself staring at her again as the gentle glow almost seemed to increase in proximity to her.

“Link, what is it?” she asked in fascination, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“A star fragment,” he said quietly, offering it out to her with a smile.

Zelda took it with an almost reverent hold, settling back onto her knees and admiring the crystal as she cradled it in her hands. Link felt a tingle go up his fingertips when he handed it over, his hands brushing Zelda’s, and felt warmth run up his arm at the point of contact.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, running a hand along one of its grooves. “Where do they come from?”

“I’m not completely sure,” he admitted, leaning back and looking up at the stars. “Somewhere in the sky I guess. There is a story that says they’re made of pure gratitude to Hylia...”

“A bit hard to prove I think,” Zelda hummed, gently turning it in her arms. “I’ll have to ask Purah, perhaps we could run some tests on it. Or perhaps Impa would know, she tends to be knowledgeable about things of this sort—”

Link couldn’t help but smile as Zelda slipped into her theorizing voice, excitedly studying and wondering what the smooth crystal in her hands could be.

Her words, soft but growing louder as she grew more excited, were music to his ears, her accented tones a soothing lilt in the breeze. The sound of it always calmed him, and he loved hearing her speak, even when she raised her voice in annoyance or anger, to a point.

It was the first thing he remembered, the thing that had woken him, guided him all throughout his journey, that had warned him of blood moons and directed his steps. The one scrap of familiarity he’d clung to in a strange world.

He truly could listen to her voice forever.

“Link?”

He met Zelda’s eyes, bright in the glow from the crystal, and tilted his head to indicate he was listening.

“Thank you for showing me this,” she said, voice full of gratitude. A soft look overtook her face as she glanced up at the sky again, and she smiled. “This is wonderful. I... I really needed this, I realize. I’ve barely had a moment to breathe since the Calamity, and everything lately has just been...”

Her voice fell, the smile slipping from her lips.

“It’s been truly... overwhelming,” she whispered, as if afraid to speak louder. “I’m realizing just how much we lost in the past century, and fixing it seems impossible. Not to mention being sealed in the castle for a hundred years...”

She sighed, and Link felt something ache in his chest at the exhaustion in it.

“It’s just left me so... disconnected from everything,” she whispered. “Sometimes I forget what it’s like, being a person and not just a force of light to hold back the darkness. To not have to focus and constantly resist, and feel as if one slip up would doom the world. Doing it for so long, even now that I’m out, sometimes I forget and I feel like I’m still... still in there. With him.”

A shudder ran through her, and Link ignored the old instinct that refused to bridge the gap between princess and knight, and slid closer to her, gently resting a hand on her arm.

Zelda swallowed, and held the crystal in her hands a little tighter.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” she whispered, and Link hated how miserable it sounded. “I’m sorry.”

“Zelda, I don’t mind, don’t— don’t apologize,” he said, quick to reassure her. He hesitated, then fully put his arm around her, keeping the hold loose so she could pull away if she wanted.

She didn’t though, and they both relaxed a bit, Link slipping closer.

“I like listening to you Zelda,” he continued, the glow of the crystal dancing between them. “Truly. Even if it’s just your worries. I just... wish I could do more to help you.”

“You help plenty Link,” Zelda replied, looking a bit better. “You brought me out here didn’t you? You knew I’d love seeing the stars tonight, and showed me the bay as well. And don’t think I didn’t notice the distinct lack of monsters around, you’ve done so much for me Link, not just tonight, and I truly appreciate it.”

Her smile returned, though it wasn’t quite as brilliant as before.

“Being out here, and seeing for myself that the fight was worth it, that through our efforts we preserved this,” she said with a wide gesture to the landscape and sky, “it helps remind me of what we’re working towards, and why Hyrule is worth not giving up on.”

She ran a hand along the crystal again, the light shimmering off her face as she looked up at the stars.

“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” Zelda said softly, meeting his eye.

Link’s mouth suddenly felt too dry to respond, but he managed a nod and a smile, and Zelda returned it as she leaned into his hold a bit more. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and they both looked back up at the stars falling across the sky, leaving streaks like crystal rain in their wakes.

And with them, the star fragment in Zelda’s arms seemed to shine just a bit brighter.

[arizona2004]

Hey can you please do a azriel x reader where the reader is struggling with bad mental health (maybe an Ed) because I’m struggling myself rn and alsao there’s not enough of them :). I can totally understand if you didn’t feel comfortable doing it

Okay, here it is. Everyone responds to their eating disorders differently, especially depending on the ED and severity of it. I hope this has what you’re looking for, though.

Azriel x reader

Word count: 1499

Warnings: Eating Disorders! The reader struggles with an ED and some depression and anxiety and a little OCD. Please don’t read if you think reading the unhealthy thoughts of someone with an eating disorder may cause you to relapse. It is not healthy to think about food and eating in this manner. Love you all. Don’t forget to eat something and drink some water.

Waking up, I immediately don’t want to get out of bed. I pull the covers over my head, keep my eyes closed, and scrunch my legs up to my chest. When I wake up again, it’s only a little later in the morning. I still don’t want to pull myself out of bed, but I can’t fall back asleep. So I just lay there. Turning to Azriel’s side of the bed, I notice he’s not there. Well, of course not; he’s already left for work. I stare at the spot he usually occupies before finally sitting up and checking the clock. It’s 10 am.

Standing, I wrap my robe around myself and walk out of the room, refusing to look in the mirror. I practice breathing evenly and focus on my routine. I need to eat breakfast. I spend nearly 20 minutes in the kitchen, moving around, deciding what to eat. I’m opening cabinets and closing them, finding nothing satisfactory. Eventually, I decide to make some bacon. The stove is on, and bacon is sizzling. The scent of bacon is wafting toward me, and I feel like being sick. I can’t eat bacon; it’s greasy and fatty. Toast, I think, I’ll make toast. So I put the bread in the toaster and let it cook. It’s only when the toast is cooked that I start thinking about the carbs that go into it. I haven’t been exercising enough recently. I shouldn’t eat so many carbs. I throw the toast out with the bacon and decide to make scrambled eggs instead. Whisking the eggs and milk together, I turn on the stove, letting the skillet heat and butter melt on it. When I turn, bowl in hand, ready to pour it into the skillet, it slips from my hand, spilling all over the floor. Anger and frustration wash over me; I guess I just shouldn’t eat this morning.

After cleaning the mess: doing the dishes that littered the sink and picking up the mess of eggs on the floor, I walk back up to my room. My head is pounding, and everything feels like it's crashing in on me. My heart is racing, and I just want to scream. My mind keeps flashing back to last night. We went out to Ritas, and it was supposed to be fun. But I just had to ruin things for myself. I barely ate. I stopped drinking early into the night. I wish I could have forgone the entire night. I wish Mor wasn’t so perfect. She has curves in all the right places and not a single flaw; I hate her for it, I think. Passing the floor-length mirror in my bedroom, I stop to look at myself. It’s been so long since I’ve looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. Why can't I have a body like Mor or Feyre or Amren?

I sit on the floor, just picking apart all the pieces of myself I hate. Thinking about all the insulting things people have said to me. Tears are streaming out of my eyes until I can’t even see my reflection. I’m clutching my chest as I struggle for air through my sobs. Why? Why? Why?

It’s an hour later, and I’m just lying on the floor of my bedroom, staring at the ceiling. I pushed my earlier hunger away, so I can’t feel it anymore. I wish I couldn’t feel any of it. The tears on my face have dried, and I’m breathing normally again when a small piece of folded paper falls next to me.

The Note reads: Meet me at my office at 11:30?

Azriel. I turn my head to look at the clock hanging on the wall. It’s nearly 11:20: a choked sob leaves my throat. Standing quickly, I rush to the bathroom to put myself together. In 10 minutes, my face is washed, and I’m wearing enough makeup to cover any signs of my tears. And I brushed through my hair and threw on some clothes. Rushing out the door, I head for the House of Wind. In the time it took to get to the door of his office, I’ve done breathing exercises to even out my breaths and slipped on a smile.

Knocking on the door to his office, I peeked my head in. “Hey,” I say, biting my lip.

He looked up to me, a grin spreading across his face and arms opening for me. I walked in, shutting the door behind me, and sat on his lap. He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of me. “You smell wonderful, love,” he murmurs against my neck.

“Hmm,” I hum, holding him tight.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks, pulling back slightly to look at me directly.

“Yeah,” An unconscious fake smile blooms across my face, “why wouldn’t I be?”

He just stares at me for a moment longer, eyebrows bunching, when he asks, “have you eaten today?”

“Yes. Breakfast this morning,” I say, “when I woke to an empty bed,” I try steering the question away from myself.

He knows I’m lying, “are you hungry? We could get lunch.”

“It was a big breakfast, Az,” I say, “I’m not hungry right now.”

He grips my waist and pulls me closer, wrapping his wings around us, “What’d you eat?”

“I made toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon,” It’s not entirely a lie, I think to myself.

He puts his forehead on my shoulder, resting it there for a long few moments, “baby,” he mumbles, “please don’t lie to me. We’ve been through this before: I can help, just talk to me.”

My lips start to quiver, I’ve upset him.

“I’m with you through all the good And the bad,” he says, head still down, “please tell me the truth about how you’re feeling,” he lifts his head to look at me, and the worrying features of his face make me sob again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay,” he consoles, wiping the tears from my face, “deep breaths.”

I take a deep breath in and out, and he does it with me. My tears start to slow, and the shuddering breaths even out. Az is running his hand up and down my spine, soothingly and when I’m ready, I explain everything, “I guess- things started getting bad yesterday. I didn’t really like the way I looked in that dress, and I just felt… off? Gross? I don’t know,” I take another breath in, “then Mor showed up, and she just looked so good in that dress; she’s so beautiful. And she ate and drank so much,” I’m ranting now, “Does she ever gain weight?!” I stop talking, trying to calm myself, and tears well up again, but I push them back. Looking back to Az, I start talking again, “I shouldn’t be jealous. I’m a horrible friend for being mad at her, but I just can’t stand her sometimes. I’m a horrible friend.”

I’m looking down between us now, but Az coaxes me back, “look at me,” he holds my face between his hands and pushes our foreheads together, “You are not a horrible friend. You are wonderful and kind. It’s okay to be jealous. You still love her, and you’re still a good friend. Now, tell me the rest.”

I shake my head holding back my tears, “It’s just the same thing. I just- it’s everything combined. I feel like I ate too much yesterday, and I haven’t worked out regularly this week. Then everything last night. So when I woke up this morning, everything was too much. Seeing myself in the mirror and thinking about how much I don’t deserve you. I’m not pretty enough. It’s all just so much. All at once,” my breaths come unevenly again, and tears are running down my face.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment; his hands drop from my face and pull me into him. His hands run through my hair, and he just soothes me quietly for a few minutes. When he pulls back to look at me, he says quietly and calmly, “You’re beautiful, love. And I know me telling you that isn’t just gonna take all the bad thoughts and feelings away, but I need you to know: No matter what you see in the mirror or what your mind tells you, you are so beautiful. You have your ‘flaws,’ but that’s okay. You just have to learn to love them the way I do. And I’ll help you with that; I’m here to help.”

I nod, tears still streaming down my face, and lay my head on his shoulder, breathing him in and calming myself.

“Can we go eat food now,” he asks quietly. I nod letting myself feel the hunger I pushed aside and relaxed further into his arms. He lifts me with him as he stands and walks us to the kitchen.

[yeet-me-dad-dy]

Happy Birthday Mammon, '21

Warnings: Smooches

Summary: You take Mammon to the human realm for his birthday.

Characters: Mammon x GN Reader

Fandom: Obey Me! Shall we date?

You woke early the day of Mammon’s birthday, before anyone but Lucifer was up, and padded on bare feet to his bedroom. The door was cracked, and soft orange light spilled lazily into the hall. You pushed the door open, stepped in, and closed it silently behind you. Lucifer stood in front of his wardrobe as he got dressed.

“Morning,” you greeted with a yawn.

“Good morning,” he replied as he turned toward you with a lazy smile.

“Is everything set for today?”

He nodded and finished buttoning his shirt, then reached for his vest.

“Barbatos is expecting you before dinner tonight, and then tomorrow around noon. My D.D.D is on and charged, should you need anything or Mammon gets into trouble, and my brothers have been instructed to be nice to him… As nice as they can be, anyway.”

You smiled and released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. If Lucifer was confident that all was prepared, then you could relax. You just really wanted Mammon’s birthday to be perfect.

“Thanks for helping me with this, Lucifer,” you said.

“Of course. Mammon may be the scummiest of us, but I suppose he does deserve a good day now and then.”

You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest. You hated when they said things like that about him.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “That’s a habit I’m actively trying to break.”

“You’re forgiven,” you chuckled.

You didn’t need to get into another fight about how the brothers treat Mammon. You’d already thoroughly ripped into each of them more than once. Gratefully, they seemed to be trying to be nicer, at the very least.

“Mammon is very lucky to have you, you know,” Lucifer said, suddenly serious. “You’re good for him. You make him happy, and I’m very glad that he has you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, but luckily you knew that he didn’t need an answer. You thanked him one last time before you returned to your room to make some phone calls.

You made the brothers a human world breakfast of eggs, toast, sausage, and fresh fruits. Afterward, Mammon sheepishly invited you to go out to the casinos and shops with him, which you gladly agreed to. The demon never stopped grinning, even when he lost money, and he was much handsier than normal, from linking his arm with yours, to pulling you onto his lap while he played at the tables, to hugging you when he won big. He even bought you some things. Very un-Mammon-like.

“Man, I’m feeling GOOD today!” he exclaimed as you left the casino hand in hand.

“Well, it is your birthday,” you chuckled.

He laughed and swung his arm back and forth like a child, taking your hand with it.

“Nah, I think it’s cuz you’re here. You’re like my lucky charm.”

You smiled and tried to hide the blush that dusted your cheeks. You quickly checked your watch, and your stomach twisted with both excitement and anxiety. It was time.

“C’mon, Mammon, let’s head to Diavolo’s castle. I have a surprise for you.”

His eyes went wide and his face lit up.

“Don’t tell me ya got him to give me one of those big expensive artifacts he keeps chained down so that I can’t steal it!”

You laughed and pulled him along behind you.

“Sorry, not this time. I think you’ll like what I have planned, though.”

You walked hand-in-hand through the city, beneath colorful lights and past beautiful architecture. The Devildom truly was beautiful. Finally, the castle loomed menacingly before you, but instead of fear, you felt comfort and a sense of home. After all, Diavolo was the only reason you had come to the Devildom to begin with. You pushed the heavy front door open and Mammon followed you in. Barbatos was waiting for you, just as Lucifer had said he would be. Mammon eyed him, confused.

“Is Barbatos my present..?”

The steward laughed and shook his head.

“Happy birthday, Mammon. Come with me please,” he greeted.

There was a bounce in Mammon’s step as he followed eagerly after. Barbatos walked so quickly, you nearly had to jog to keep up with him. You supposed he had to be quick if he was going to do everything he had to do in a day in a timely manner. He led you and Mammon into the Hall of Doors, stopping before a door you recognized immediately. It was big, made with crimson wood and intricately carved. Beautiful stained glass made up the majority of the upper half of the door, and an iron door handle with a classic keyhole had an old key sticking out of it. Your key.

“What are we doin’ here?” Mammon asked, now even more confused than before.

Barbatos simply gestured toward the door. Mammon looked to you for a mix of permission and comfort, which you provided with a nod of your head. He stepped up to the door, reached for the handle, and turned the key. The door swung open silently on its hinges, revealing a stunning dark wood and white marble entryway.

“Where is this?” he asked hesitantly, though his eyes were bright as they followed up the double staircase, to the balconies above, then the huge crystal chandelier, crown moulding, and gold accents. His breath caught in his chest.

“It’s my house,” you said, and he turned to look at you so quickly that you were sure he gave himself whiplash.

“You’re jokin’,” he said, expression blank.

You smiled and shook your head.

“You can go in. You’re gonna stay in my house with me tonight.”

His eyes widened once more as he gazed back through the doorway. He stepped inside. You thanked Barbatos, took your key from the door, and shut it behind you.

“Welcome to my world,” you chuckled.

You watched him fondly as he wandered around the foyer, touching everything he could.

“This would sell for so much…” you heard him whisper as he picked up a small bust of Achilles from the antique table against the left wall.

He turned to look at you, bust still in hand.

“You never told me you’re rich!” he exclaimed.

You smirked, shrugged, and strode toward him.

“I didn’t want you to like me for my money.”

He nodded and begrudgingly put the bust back in place.

“Ah, Master Y/N, you’re home.”

You both turned to acknowledge the newest presence in the room. An old man with dark skin emerged from the archway across the room. His hair was cut short, balding and white, he had white stubble on his jaw, deep laugh lines painted his face, and his silver eyes sparkled with the memories of a life filled with joy.

“Jacobi,” you greeted as you jogged forward to envelop the man in a hug.

You motioned Mammon over to introduce him.

“Mammon, this is Jacobi, my steward. He’s worked for my family since he was a young man. He raised me.”

The demon reached out to shake your steward’s gloved hand.

“Well, ya did a good job,” he told him. “Ya raised Y/N right.”

Jacobi chuckled, his eyes nearly closing with the size of his grin, revealing more deep creases in his face.

“Well thank you, sir,” he replied. “That means a lot to me, hearin’ you say that.”

His voice carried the usual crackliness that human voices tend to do as they get old, and he was soft spoken, but it was the kind of voice that demanded you stop and listen.

He turned his attention back to you.

“You’re right on time, young master, dinner is ready to be served.”

He gestured toward the archway in between the two staircases across the room. You clapped him gently on the shoulder, rested a hand on Mammon’s lower back, and led the demon into the dining room.

“Dinner?” Mammon asked as he regarded the long dining table and high-backed chairs with deep red cushions.

“Yeah. Lucifer told me you’d never had Italian food, so I had my chefs make some of my favorite dishes for you to try.”

“You have personal chefs!?”

You chuckled and nodded.

You sat at the head of the table and Mammon sat to your right. There was a black lace table runner along the length of the dark wooden surface. In the very middle of the table was a centerpiece of candles, fruits, bones, feathers, and other natural materials like moss and pinecones. He noticed one fruit that looked surprisingly similar to a human heart. He also took note of the chandelier above, the dark baseboards on white walls, and the grand stone fireplace set into the far end of the room, with wolves and ravens carved into black wood and affixed above the mantel. All in all, he was feeling equal measures of wonder and unease.

“Did you choose these decorations?” he asked as servants filed out of the door behind him with platter after platter of food.

You nodded in response to his question.

He waited for the platters to be set down and the servants to leave before he said, “It’s very… dark. Guess that’s why ya like the devildom so much, huh?”

You laughed and shook your head, then reached forward to serve yourself. Mammon followed your example and piled his plate high with a little bit of everything.

“The Devildom is my home, Mammon. And I don’t like it there because it’s dark and spooky, though that does help. I like it there because you guys are there. My favorite demons. My family.”

Your gaze caught his and he turned away to hide his blush. Then, the greedy demon that he is, he ate and ate and ate until you had to stop him.

“Easy there, Mammon. I have more planned for tonight. Don’t make yourself sick.”

He stopped with his fork in his mouth and looked at you with a brow raised.

“More?” he asked around his food.

“Mmhmm. What, you didn’t think I brought you here just for dinner, did you?”

He finally swallowed, put his fork down, and then washed it all down with some red wine.

“I didn’t know what to think. No one told me this was planned.”

You smiled, your sparkling eyes never leaving his, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if you knew about it, now would it?”

He smirked.

“I guess not.”

You checked your watch and then pushed yourself away from the table.

“It’s almost 9:30pm. C’mon, I need to go to the bathroom and then we can leave. I don’t want to be late.”

“Go?” he asked. “We’re not stayin’ here?”

He hopped up and followed after you, back into the foyer and then up the stairs and down a hallway. He waited for you to finish in the bathroom, then stuck to your side like glue as you led him out of the house and into a garage filled with expensive cars. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide as his brain malfunctioned from the sheer value of what was before him. He’d never seen so many fancy cars in one place, let alone all belonging to one person. He nearly sprinted over to the nearest car, a blue and black Lamborghini, and peered in the window.

“Pick one to take,” you said as you strode up to him.

He was overwhelmed. There were so many! Finally, he picked the lamborghini. He hopped into the passenger seat, vibrating with excitement. You started the engine, and Mammon beamed when you gave him control over the music. You made him buckle up before you would leave, and then pulled out into the night. It was warm out, with a sweet-smelling cool breeze. Mammon gazed out his window like a child going to DisneyLand as you drove him through the city streets toward your destination. You finally turned onto a road where Mammon could see towering structures and bright, colorful lights at the end. He turned to you, eyes wide.

“A carnival?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded, and his excitement only grew when you parked the car on the side of the street and got out. He scrambled after you, taking your hand instinctively as he saw the sea of bodies awaiting within. It was a habit he had taken up without realizing it. Whenever there was a crowd and he was afraid to lose you, he would take your hand in his. Sometimes, if it was really crowded, he would put his arm around you and pull you close to him so that you didn’t get separated.

He breathed in deeply, taking in all of the smells of the human world, from popcorn, cotton candy, and corndogs, to the sweat of the people, the hot grease from the food trucks, and the stench of the outhouses. He couldn’t be happier. You glanced at your watch again.

“We got here in good time,” you told him. “We can go on some rides and play games if you want, but at 11, I want us to go on the ferris wheel.”

He agreed with no protest, so you found the nearest token machine and fed it a few bucks.

“All yours,” you said as you handed him his half.

He grinned and enveloped you in a hug.

“You’re the best!”

You squeezed him back, then he pulled away.

“C’mon, let’s play games!”

He dragged you from game to game, ride to ride, reveling in the sights and sounds of the human world. He had been to your realm before, of course, but never for something like this. Never for something so fun.

As 11pm rolled around, the two of you made your way toward the ferris wheel, giggling like children. Mammon was holding a big stuffed dragon plushie you won for him at the water gun game in one arm, and he had your hand in the other. There was a long line for the ferris wheel, full of people hoping to be at the top when the big event starts. You led Mammon past the line, however, and to the ride operator at the front. His expression was irritated and stern when you approached, but softened when you handed him a ticket. Then, he opened the door to the bucket and you pulled Mammon inside. You sat on the same side as him, despite the tilting of the bucket, facing the water.

“What was that?” he asked as you checked your watch again and the ride began to move.

“There’s an auction for that every weekend night. The winner gets to be at the top of the ferris wheel when it starts.

“When… what starts?”

You chuckled.

“You’ll see. Give it a minute.”

Mammon waited, almost anxiously, for whatever it was that you had brought him here for. As casually as he could manage, he slipped his hand into yours. You gave it a soft squeeze and smiled over at him. The ride brought you two to the top of the ferris wheel, and then stopped, the bucket swinging gently as its momentum died out. There was a change in the music below, and while he couldn’t quite hear the lyrics, Mammon could tell that it had slowed down, morphed into a melody much softer than the alt rock from before. You moved your hand from his so that you could link arms with him, and then you wiggled closer, squishing yourself against him so that you could rest your head on his shoulder.

He looked down at you, his eyes beginning to tear up as your proximity and the reality of the current situation made his heart clench. You were so beautiful, staring up at the night sky with stars reflected in your eyes. So perfect.

This is where you are meant to be, he thought. Here, with me.

Never in his very long life did he think he would ever love a human. Hell, he never considered even liking a human. And yet, the first time you two met, his heart had skipped a beat and butterflies erupted in his stomach. Mmammon didn’t believe in soulmates, but if he did, he was sure that you were his.

He was so lost in you that he jumped in surprise when the first firework exploded over the water, illuminating your face in a brilliant shade of orange. Another firework followed, and then another, and as each went off, his heart beat just a little bit faster. He rested his cheek on top of your head as he watched the show with a smile. More tears were threatening to spill over, but for the first time in his life, he didn’t try to hide them. He didn’t need to. Not with you.

“Happy birthday, Mammon,” you whispered, and that’s what finally sent him over.

He pushed you away just long enough to free both hands so that he could cup your face, and then he dove forward to capture you in a passionate kiss. Your lips were soft, and you opened them to allow his tongue to snake into your mouth and tangle with your own. His hands tangled in your hair, and your arms rose to lock around his shoulders. You tasted like cotton candy. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth, as if trying to memorize its layout, going so far as to graze along your teeth.

You hummed and pulled away to breathe, your chest heaving with each deep breath, and as soon as you were ready, you pulled him back in. You forced your tongue into his mouth, dominating the kiss as you moved to straddle him. The bucket tipped dangerously, but neither of you cared. The sky flashed in a myriad of colors as he held you in his lap, arms wrapped around your lower back, holding you flush against him. He only pulled away when his heart ached and the tears that were threatening earlier finally spilled over. He closed his eyes tight and buried his face in your chest to choke back a happy sob.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered as the fireworks lulled and died down.

You carded your fingers through his hair and held him tight.

“I love you, Mammon. More than you can ever know.”

That only made his heart ache more as all the love he had suppressed over the millenia came flooding in all at once. The ride jerked and began to move, and you leaned away from Mammon so that you could take his face in your hands. You brushed his tears away gently with your thumbs, and then trailed one across his lips before giving him one last soft kiss. Finally, as you reached the bottom of the ride, you slid off of his lap and back around to sit next to him. You took his hand and he held onto you like a lifeline.

You were his human. His. You had chosen him, and he would be damned if he let you go now.

Bonus:

Before leaving the fairgrounds to return to the car, you led Mammon to a booth near the entrance. The person behind the window lit up when they saw you, and for a moment, Mammon thought that he might have to show the guy exactly who you belonged to. That wasn’t necessary, however, as the man slid a photograph toward you. You picked it up and handed it to Mammon with that same soft smile that you had graced him with earlier. The photograph was of the two of you at the top of the ferris wheel. The camera had captured the moment you had put your head on his shoulder and he had rested his cheek on your head. You were both looking up at the stars, smiling and holding each other close.

[cuddlepilefics]

Laryngitis

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jisung

Caregiver: Minho

Prompt @sicktember

No one's POV.:

Ever since Jisung had woken up that morning, he had been incredibly quiet. To Minho that was truly unsettling, knowing the younger was usually loud and energetic. If he really thought about it, his dongsaeng had already started to act a little off during the previous day but that had been nothing in comparison to how he acted now. The dancer was at a loss. If something was wrong, Jisung would come talk to him, right? Wracking his brain, Minho tried to find a possible explanation for the rapper's behavior. They had spent most of the previous day together and although he had been quiet, Jisung hadn't necessarily seemed down. There also had been no incident that could have sparked the younger's anxiety, at least not that Minho knew of. And yet, the rapper had avoided talking to any of his members and had even gone out of his way to avoid having breakfast. Something wasn't right and Minho was determined to figure out what it was.

Over the course of the previous day, Jisung's throat had started to bother him. At first it was only a light ache and he figured he must have strained it during his vocal practice earlier. The longer the day progressed though, the worse the pain got and by the time evening rolled around, he limited himself to only saying the bare minimum, mostly answering questions by nodding or shaking his head. Talking hurt, as did swallowing but he figured he'd be fine after just resting his voice for a while. He knew he had to stay hydrated and fought to drink a glass of water before going to bed no matter how badly swallowing hurt. The water hadn't helped much, except force him to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. When he woke up in the morning, his throat was at least as sore as before, if not worse. Talking seemed like an impossible task and barely being able to force down a few sips of water, Jisung didn't even dare to think about having breakfast. Still, he thought he had done a remotely good job at playing it off but apparently, he didn't.

Feeling a bit shivery, Jisung used the time while his group ate breakfast to bundle up in a warm, oversized sweater and wrap a big, fluffy scarf around his neck. He could just pretend it completed the outfit besides, it was cold outside anyway. The rapper was so deep in thought that he didn't even hear Minho slipping into his room. "Sung", the older spoke up, chuckling when Jisung startled, "Sorry, didn't want to scare you but I have to talk to you." Jisung nodded his head as an invitation to continue. "You've been acting a bit off and I wanted to see if everything's alright. Didn't think calling you out in front of everyone would be a good idea, so I tried to catch you alone", Minho hummed, sitting down on his dongsaeng's bed. Jisung couldn't help the small smile that played around his lips. He wasn't happy that someone had caught on, yet his hyung was considerate enough to ask him in privacy. Plopping down on his bed next to the dancer, Jisung rasped: "I-I can't really talk, my voice is shot." – "Ohh, that's why you've been so quiet?", Minho concluded, eyes wide with realization. The younger nodded, smiling at his hyung's surprised face. Tapping his chin, the dancer frowned: "That really doesn't sound good though. Want me to talk to Chan-hyung and ask if you can stay home today?" Jisung shook his head. Yeah, he felt a bit cold and tired but aside from his throat hurting, he didn't really feel sick, so there was no reason to miss out on work. "We have dance practice though. I mean it's better than singing for you right now but probably not the best activity for you while sick", Minho reminded, making the younger frown. Maybe he felt a bit more tired than he wanted to let on. Still, that didn't mean he could easily skip. Noticing Jisung's hesitation, the dancer added: "I won't let you go there without eating breakfast. It's going to be challenging and you need the energy." – "Hyung, my throat hurts so bad, I can't even drink water", the rapper forced out, voice barely above a whisper. Looking at the younger in shock, Minho shook his head and insisted: "Sorry but I'm definitely talking to Chan-hyung now. I hadn't realized it was this bad."

Minho had already disappeared before Jisung could argue back. Not that he'd really have enough voice left to do so anyway. Sighing, the rapper pulled out his phone to pass the time till his hyung would come back. When Minho came back, he brought Chan with him, who gave his dongsaeng a long scrutinizing look before asking: "Minho said you weren't feeling well, can you tell me what exactly is bothering me?" Not in the mood to torture himself again, Jisung pointed at his throat, so Minho recounted what the younger had told him. Biting his lip, Chan stepped forward and placed his palm against the rapper's forehead. "Well, you also have a slight fever and considering we're dancing today, I'd rather have you sit out today", the leader frowned. Watching Jisung stiffen and open his mouth to argue, the Aussie added: "Let me rephrase that, you are staying home today. Since I don't trust you to rest, Minho will stay here and keep an eye on you. He has aced the choreography already anyways." Now looking downright offended, Jisung pouted at his hyungs. He wasn't that sick and he really doubted he had a fever. "Come on, am I really that bad?", Minho asked in mock-hurt, clutching one hand to his chest. The rapper could only roll his eyes at that. Great, he'd be stuck with the other for the rest of the day.

When the rest of the group had left for practice, Jisung didn't feel as annoyed by Minho's presence anymore. He was starting to feel run-down. Too run-down to really do much but too awake to take a nap. The rapper figured having some company wasn't so bad after all. Especially when the older got comfortable on the couch with Jisung's head in his lap and let the younger choose which movie they'd be watching. Jisung decided on Howl's moving castle and relaxed, while his hyung's hands carded through his hair. When the movie was over though, Minho insisted that the rapper had to eat something. Jisung couldn't help but cringe at the thought of forcing anything down. Seeing the horror flash across his dongsaeng's face, the dancer sighed and got up, so the younger was left to pout after his hyung who was now bustling in the kitchen. Why couldn't the older just continue playing with his hair? Minho was gone for a few minutes, so Jisung made his way back to his room and collected his fluffy blanket. He had started to feel colder and wanted to be comfy for their second movie of the day.

When Minho joined him, he was only carrying a tea pot and a cup, agreeing: "It's okay if you really don't want food right now but will you drink your tea if I add extra honey?" Giving a small smile, Jisung nodded, glad that his hyung was so understanding. "Can we watch another movie though?", the rapper rasped, grimacing in pain. Shaking his head at his dongsaeng, Minho sat down and let the younger lay on his lap again, warning: "Yeah, we can but don't talk, your throat is getting worse." Jisung was satisfied with that and got comfortable. He started to drift off around halfway in but the dancer never stopped running his fingers through his hair. He even let the younger nap on him when the movie was already over and only shifted him out of his lap when lunchtime came around. Having had an early breakfast, Minho was hungry and decided to eat a bite while his dongsaeng slept. The rapper would have to eat something soon too and this time, Minho wouldn't let him get out of it. He understood that it hurt but if it hurt this badly, it wouldn't be better anytime soon and Jisung couldn't go completely without food until he recovered.

Minho had just finished doing the dishes when he heard shuffling from the couch. Quietly making his way over, he sat down next to his dongsaeng and ran a hand through his hair before feeling his forehead. Surprisingly, the rapper barely had a fever. "Hey, how do you feel after your nap?", he hummed softly, when Jisung sleepily blinked up at him. Sitting up, the younger shook his head before a single tear trailed down his cheek. Brushing it away, Minho frowned: "Is it getting worse?" Jisung nodded, bringing one hand up to massage his throat. "Sung, I don't know but I'm really worried. I think you should see a doctor. You can't eat, you can barely drink, .... This seems serious. Singing is part of your life, so you should be mindful of your voice and take good care of it", the dancer sighed, tired of seeing his friend in so much pain. Rubbing his face, Jisung reached for his cup. The tea had long since gone cold but he wanted to try. If he couldn't drink properly, he'd listen to his hyung's advice. Taking a tentative sip, the rapper almost choked on it and gave a painful cough that brought tears to his eyes. There was no reason to lie anymore, he felt downright awful. Pulling out his phone, he opened a notes app and typed that he'd gladly go see a doctor because he couldn't stand the pain anymore and was starting to feel hungry too. "Do you want me to come with me? I don't mind coming with you but if you're alright by yourself, I'll use the time to make you some soup", Minho offered, "Maybe you'll get something for the pain, so you can eat when you get back." Smiling slightly, Jisung typed that he'd be fine by himself and that he'd hope to be able to eat some of his hyung's soup. The dancer nodded and fixed his dongsaeng's scarf for him, reminding: "Get back safely, yeah?" Nodding, the younger bundled up in a thick coat and left the dorm.

Turning on some soft music as a distraction from the pressing silence at the dorm, Minho busied himself in the kitchen. He had texted his mother for a suitable soup recipe, wanting nothing more than to nurse his dongsaeng back to health. The dancer was a bit worried about sending the younger out by himself and not going with him but tried not to think about it. He just hoped whatever was wrong with the rapper wouldn't be too serious. As the soup simmered, he made his way to the living room to clean up a bit. He'd make some fresh tea and spotting the blanket on the couch, Minho took it to the bathroom and threw it into the wash. Adding in a generous amount of fabric softener, he left the bathroom. He'd throw it into the drier as soon as Jisung would text him that he was on his way home, so that he'd have a nice and warm blanket to curl up under after having to go out in the cold. As he absentmindedly stirred the soup, his phone dinged. Jisung texted him that he was on his way back. He had been diagnosed with laryngitis should avoid straining his voice too much. He had also gotten a prescription for a numbing throat spray, so he'd be able to eat something when he got home and was looking forward to his hyung's cooking. Minho couldn't help a loving smile spreading on his lips and went to throw the blanket into the drier.

When he made his way back to the kitchen, he heard the front door click. Walking over there, he was startled by Jisung throwing himself at him. Minho returned the hug as the younger clung to him and smiled when his dongsaeng lifted his head to look at him. Opening his mouth to say something, the rapper was cut off by Minho reminding: "Ah ah, no talking, remember?" Jisung pouted and pulled out his phone, typing: 'I missed you, hyung!' – "Aww, Sungie. You've barely been gone for what?", Minho chuckled, glancing at the clock, "That wasn't even a full hour." Furiously tapping on his phone, the rapper held it up for his hyung to read: 'That's a lot in sick people time, okay? :(' Tightening his hug, Minho cooed: "I'm sorry, how about you have some soup and then we can continue our movie marathon. I put your blanket into the drier, so it should be nice and warm to cuddle under." Burying his face in the dancer's chest and nodding, Jisung almost teared up. His hyung was so caring and he already looked forward to getting his cuddles. Maybe the older would play with his hair again too. "Alright, let's get you some food first but you'll have to let go of me for that, Sungie", Minho chuckled, trying to pull away. The rapper's hold on him was too strong though, so he wrapped his arm around the younger's shoulders and simply pulled him to the kitchen with him. The faster they could get some food into Jisung, the faster they'd be able to cuddle properly.

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 19: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 3)

Part 1

Part 2 

Part 3 is here, with a little added something thrown in! Hope you enjoy!

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 19 - Everyone is born with a compass on their wrist, the needle of the compass points towards your soulmate. 

Trigger/content warnings!! Dissociation, PTSD, talk of conversion therapy and aftereffects/internalized homophobia, food mentions, nausea, anxiety/panic attack, unintentionally skipping meals, emetophobia/vomiting, pulling hair (does that count as self harm?).

Word count: 5k 

He barely remembered the hospital. It was all just a blur of doctors and police officers and more sleep than he’d gotten in weeks. After the first night of twitching in the dark confines of his hospital room and waking up screaming from nightmares the few brief seconds his consciousness faded, he was given sleeping pills, and the rest of the visit was quickly forgotten. The clearest part of the two week stay was near the end, when he was deemed physically well enough to give a statement to his social worker and a policeman, describing his ‘therapy’ and his life at the foster home, which quickly dissolved into a panic attack. They had enough though, and he was left with a sick satisfaction that they weren’t getting away with what they’d done to him. 

They’d lied to him. They had told him the system agreed with what they were doing, allowing it, condoning it. At first, he’d refused to believe them, because that made no sense. But they took his only form of contact, didn’t allow him to leave the house except for therapy, and his eventual addition of medication far too strong for him made him paranoid. Maybe he didn’t believe them as much as he was just trying to survive. He still didn’t know how they’d managed to keep up the charade when they were being checked on bi-weekly; he hadn’t even known when said visits were happening. 

“They’ll be spending some time in prison for child abuse. Not nearly enough, but still,” A social worker said quietly as he drove him back to his old group home. Virgil stared numbly out the window. “The kids were taken from them for the time being. They were deemed unfit parents. Foster care until they can find either some relatives or the parents are allowed them back.”

He didn’t react, although his heart nearly stopped in his chest. The parents hadn’t been great, but the kids had been happy enough. And now they were forced into a shoddy system… because of him. Virgil blinked rapidly to stop the tears that threatened to flow.

“You alright, Virge?” 

He finally turned from the blurry mass of green trees out the car window, turning blankly to the man driving. The worker glanced from the road to meet his eyes, sighing. 

No, he wasn’t alright. But he’d never say otherwise. Volunteering information about himself was how he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place. He wasn’t about to do it again. 

----------

That had been almost a month ago, and he was still to break out of his selective mutism. It wasn’t as if he was choosing not to speak; it wasn’t stubbornness. He felt as if his brain and his mouth were disconnected, like his thoughts were less coherent and more just abstract emotion, and he couldn’t turn them into words. Any question that couldn’t be answered by a simple nod or head shake was met with a blank stare, a far off gaze, that was unnerving to anyone. They’d tried to put him back into therapy, but the moment it was mentioned, Virgil spiralled into the worst panic attack he could ever remember having. 

He’d gotten his old room back, with two new kids as his roommates. He quickly built up the same reputation as before: this room is mine unless you’re sleeping. No kid wanted to be near him when he was awake, staring at nothing, his only movements being his occasional blinking. Frankly, the younger ones were scared of him. 

And he didn’t care. 

Some days he fell so deep into dissociating that he didn’t even react when he was called for dinner. The world around him dissolved, blurry and unfocused and just quiet, retreating into his own mind where he could breathe. Reality was too much. It was just… too much. One of his doctors had said it might be a side effect as they eased him off his criminally high dose of antipsychotics they’d hidden in his drinks, but that was an afterthought. He was warm, he was full (when he was aware enough to eat), and so he faded into his head. He’d cope with his trauma another day. 

“You haven’t eaten all day, honey,” A soft voice said and he blinked, looking up from his bed sheets at the worker. She was one of his favorites; gentle, quiet, respecting his boundaries. In her hands was a plate with dinner on it.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod, barely more than a single bob, and she sat across from him on the bed, placing the plate in front of him. With heavy hands, he lifted a cold green bean to his mouth. It was gross, but the plate was empty in minutes. Apparently it had been a whole day. 

“Virgil, I want to talk to you,” She said. Now full, his brain would let him stay present for a little while until dissociation took over again. He pushed himself back against the wall and brought his knees to his chest, watching her movements. 

“It’s not anything bad, I promise. I’ve been talking with some other workers, some connections I have across the state.”

He didn’t like where this was going. 

“One of them suggested a couple that’s fostered for over a decade. They have a fantastic record, so I got into contact with them-”

“No.” The first thing he’d said in weeks, his voice scratchy from disuse. For once, the mess in his brain came together to form the single word, an immediate rejection. He pushed himself farther away from her, shaking his head violently. “No, no, no.”

“Virgil, breathe,” She reached out a hand and Virgil flinched so hard his head hit the wall. The hand retreated. “You don’t have to go with them if you’re uncomfortable, hun. Please just trust me, though, they’d never do anything that they did.”

He glared at her, trying to read her expression in the dark room. Silence stretched between them as Virgil’s thoughts drifted back to their state of quietude, leaving him unable to form words, beginning to drift away from reality. His eyelids flickered as focusing became harder, his mind’s eye suddenly alight with the blinding white lights of the therapy room. 

“Will you meet them at least, Virgil? Just for a few minutes? And if you still say no after, I’ll never bring them up again.”

He found himself nodding without properly meaning it. He just wanted her to leave… he just wanted to be alone. So he could drift away, without having to fear anyone hurting him anymore. 

She left, taking the empty plate with her. 

----------

Just because he knew today he was meeting his potential (not gonna happen) foster parents, it didn’t mean he was allowed to be present for the rest of the day. His favorite worker had come back again, motivating him to get ready and dressed, since he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to find the energy to even just put on a sweater, much less get himself completely ready. 

Looking in the mirror hurt. His hair was starting to grow back, just barely long enough to run his fingers through, never mind getting anywhere long enough to cover his eyes like it used to. The bags under his eyes were darker than he could remember them ever being and his hands shook as he brushed his teeth. Biting down on the bristles, he grabbed a towel and threw it over the mirror, feeling a slight tinge of relief when he was no longer forced to look at himself. The social worker watched from the doorway, silently. 

He was tempted to go to sleep when he was done, completely exhausted from the little bit of work. But she brought him breakfast and his stomach growled in agreement, so he ate enough of the oatmeal to satiate his hunger, and not a bite more. A nervous nausea was already swirling in his gut and he didn’t need to add to it.

“Would you like to be left alone?” She asked, taking the empty bowl. 

Virgil nodded, already feeling the heaviness and emptiness that came with dissociation starting to creep through his limbs.

“I’ll come let you know when they’re here, okay?” He had no recollection of her leaving the room, but the next time he drifted back to the present, she was gone. 

He took a nap around noon, too tired and overwhelmed to stay awake for any longer. Plus, with new rushes of anxiety flooding his system every couple seconds, he was ready to not be conscious for a hot minute. He tried to convince himself that it would be okay, he’d struggle through an awkward meeting where the foster parents would eventually give up on him and leave, and he could spend his remaining year and a month in the system. Hopefully in that year he could figure enough out to survive when he was alone. 

A joyous child screeching downstairs woke him up three hours later, jerking him awake with a pounding heart. 

It wasn’t an hour later when there was a soft knock at his door and he threw himself into the corner, pulling his blanket up to his chest. No, no, no, he wasn’t ready- The door opened painfully slowly, spilling the light from the hallway into his pitch black room. 

“Virgil? I’m here with one of the foster parents, can I come in?”

She poked her head into the room and squinted to meet his eyes in the darkness, eventually finding his hunched form on his bed. Wordlessly, she opened the door all the way and walked up to him, flicking on the bedside lamp. A pleasantly soft light filled the room, illuminating the man standing at the door. Virgil began to shake. 

He wasn’t overly tall, probably just a head or so taller than Virgil, dressed in a plain yellow button up and black jeans. At first, he didn’t seem too intimidating, but neither had the other family at first glance. When he walked into the room, just so he was less of a silhouette, Virgil eyes were drawn to the large burn scar covering the left side of his face, just a shade darker than the right, but the skin mottled and textured. 

“Virgil, this is Janus Oakmen. His husband was unable to join him today, but-”

Husband? Virgil’s breath hitched. His husband, his husband, he’s gay, gay gay gay- His anxiety skyrocketed, and he couldn’t help the electric-like impulses that ran up his spine and out his fingers. He clenched his fist to hide the remaining twitches. 

She seemed to stumble over her words, trying to hide her shock. To her luck, the man interrupted, smiling softly down at Virgil.

“I’d like to speak to Virgil alone, if he’s alright with that.”

“I’ll be waiting just outside the door,” She said hurriedly, rushing out and closing the door behind her. And they were alone.

Janus looked at him for barely a second before taking a seat on the bottom bunk on the other side of the small room, folding his hands on his lap.

“Technically, I asked if you were okay with it, but…” He gestured weakly to the door. “Oh, well. I was told you don’t talk, Virgil.”

He stared in response, wrapping his fists up in the blanket. The man gave a breathy chuckle, but there was no animosity behind it.

“That’s okay. Just wanted to double check. Is it okay with you if I just talk, then?”

No adult had ever asked Virgil for permission for anything twice in under a minute. His social workers kind of just did what they had to, and he’d never been in a home where that kind of thing was the norm. It was more ‘the kids ask for everything, and the parents get what they want, no questions asked’. Needless to say, he was taken aback. 

He nodded weakly, realizing the man was waiting for a response. 

“Fabulous. Ignoring all the boring details you wouldn’t care about, my name is Janus. Like, from mythology, not a PTA mom. I’m thirty-five, and my husband Logan and I have been fostering since we were twenty-two, so we know what we’re doing. We love it.”

Virgil slowly let his legs unfurl, stretching them out in front of him under the blanket.

“We actually weren’t intending to foster this year, since Logan is looking for a new job. His current one just made it necessary for him to travel more than he would like to, so we wanted to press pause until he was happy at a new one. And then we got a call from good ole Bev out there.” He waved at the door again, cracking a smile. “She told us a little bit of your story, and Logan and I instantly said yes. If you’ll have us, that is.”

The vague idea of “why?” crossed Virgil’s mind, and it must have translated to his face, because Janus continued. 

“When I was fifteen, I came out to my parents as gay. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but they weren’t such big fans, and they put me in conversion therapy.”

His heart stopped. Another round of shocks through his arms. 

“We can talk about that more another day, if you want. I know that’s a tough topic for you. Needless to say, it didn’t work. Because it doesn’t work,” He shrugged, an annoyed tone finding its way into his words, “I understand what you’re going through, to an extent. If anyone can help you, it’s us. I’ve been there. And I promise, we’re fiercely protective. We’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

He stopped, leaning forward on his hands. Virgil realized he probably couldn’t see him that well except for his outline, due to him being pressed into the darkest corner of the room. Despite every cell in his body screaming that it was a trick, he scooted forward into the light of the lamp, still shaking. 

“There you are. Hello, Virgil.”

Virgil raised a trembling hand in a half hearted greeting. 

“I know this is a big, terrifying thing to ask of you. And I’ll understand if you say no. But if you feel safe, we’d love to have you for however long you’re comfortable with. Would you like to think it over?”

He nodded immediately. It wasn’t the hard ‘no’ he had expected himself to feel, and that was more unsettling than it should have been. 

“Okay. You do that. Take however long you need,” Janus said as he stood up, straightening his shirt, “It’s been great to meet you, Virgil.”

And he was gone. The social worker came back a short while later, but Virgil was completely gone by the time she did. He didn’t respond to her dinner calls, didn’t eat when the meal was placed in front of him, safely retreated into the silent part of his mind where he was safe from panic attacks and hard choices.

--- 

He said yes. Of course he did. He was far too intrigued by the man he’d met to refuse. He was scared shitless, that was a given; the first week after meeting Janus, he’d refused to leave his bed, refused to eat or shower or leave his huddle against the wall until the caretaker was basically pleading with him. Even then, it was a struggle to not throw up from sheer terror. 

But his social worker must have seen the way he was giving in, yearning for a grasp of hope in equal parts as his fear, because she set about to convince him. Promised more thorough checks once a week, daily phone calls to keep in touch, and an immediate pick up the moment he was unsure. Bit by bit his resolve was broken, until he finally agreed to give it a try, rushing from her presence moments later to hurl his dinner into the toilet. Hopefully his nerves would relax over time. 

The day came when he was to leave the group home, and he spent none of it in the present. He was so dissociated, so deeply embedded within his own mind, that he wasn’t even able to pack his belongings. His social worker was kind enough to do it for him (though the task itself took less than half an hour- he didn’t own that much) and he didn’t even notice she was in the room, talking, until his black garbage bag was placed on the bed in front of him. 

“ -unresponsive like this all day. We’re not sure what to do.”

“No doubt a response to his overwhelming fear of being placed in a new home after the disaster of his previous one. May I speak to him alone?”

“Of course.”

“Want me to leave too, Lo?”

“No, Janus, you can stay. It may be nice to have your expertise in the subject lest it become pertinent.”

There was some shuffling at the very corners of his consciousness, the light from the hallways lighting up the divots of his rumpled clothing bag, and one of the people were gone. His bedside lamp was flicked on.

“Thank you, Janus.” 

A weight on the bed was the first thing to really snap Virgil back to the presence, for the first time noticing the two men before him. The one standing, he recognized as Janus. The other sitting in front of him, though, he didn’t know. Virgil blinked rapidly, slowly pushing himself further back into his bed frame, despite how it dug into his shoulders. 

“Hello, Virgil. My name is Logan. I take it you’ve met my husband?”

Janus shot him a soft smirk, copying Virgil’s little wave from when they’d first interracted. He barely restrained a rush of twitches, playing it off as a shuffle to rearrange his blanket. 

“Do you think you could move forward just enough to place your feet on the ground? You don’t have to stand, just to begin the process of grounding?”

Virgil didn’t trust this guy for anything. He didn’t know his intentions, knew nothing about him, and his repressed mental state wasn’t making his cognitive reasoning any better. If Logan could help him ground, maybe it would be easier to figure out if they were trustworthy. Odd, that for this to work, he had to trust them enough to ground around them.

He scooted forward, letting his feet flutter off the bed and rest on the floor.

“Well done, Virgil. Press them to the floor firmly. Janus, do you have- ah, wonderful.”

Virgil looked up, nearly throwing himself back as Janus reached out a hand to him. There was something clutched in his fingers, but all the youngest could suddenly think was electrode electrode it’s going to hurt they’re going to hurt you don’t let it touch you don’tletittouchyou DON’T!

“It’s just gum, Virge, it’s okay.”

Oh. His hand paused as he reached out for the offering, a new thought coming to mind. Should he trust food from strangers? What if they’d drugged it, like his old foster home? He bit his lip, slowly retreating back into himself. 

The man seemed to see his hesitation, popping the piece into his mouth and offering one right from the package.

“I didn’t mess with it, I swear.” 

He took the gum, recoiling at the harsh taste almost instantly.

“Yeah, it doesn’t taste great. But I chewed like a pack of this a day when dissociation was a bitch. Snaps you back to the present like-”

“Language, Janus.”

“I’m sure he’s heard worse.”

“That doesn’t mean we should encourage it.”

Virgil couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. He hadn’t seen just casual bickering in a long time.

“We brought one more bribe-”

“It is not a bribe-”

He outright snorted at Logan’s aghast tone, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. Janus looked utterly pleased with himself, slowly handing over a bundle he’d had wrapped under his arm. 

“Again, to help with grounding. And it’s a bit of a drive to our place, so maybe you can get some sleep in the car.”

It was a deep purple blanket, almost impossibly soft to the touch. Virgil couldn’t help run his fingers over the plush material, fighting the urge to just smash his face into it. Keeping an eye on the two, Virgil unfolded it and wrapped it tightly around himself, settling to just let his cheek rub against where it was draped over his shoulder.

It took another twenty minutes for him to feel able to walk without stumbling, but if he left the group home in a fuzzy blanket and starting to feel safer than he had in months, that was his to admit. And he wouldn’t… not yet.

-----------

Virgil stared down at the piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand, re-reading his shitty handwriting for the millionth time. He knew it was proper grammar, and nothing was spelled wrong, and it was clear and concise, but a part of him was still nervous about the idea of giving it to Janus. He was still hesitant to speak, and his new foster family was more than accommodating, giving him a small white board to write on, and even teaching him the most basic sign language for simple questions (courtesy of Logan). One day, he hoped he’d get his confidence back enough to speak, but right now, he felt no rush. 

Being surrounded with these new people, even for the three short weeks he’d been there, had already been enough to minimize his dissociating spells. Logan didn’t have to leave for another work trip for another week, and Janus worked from home anyways, so he was getting way more love and affection than he was ever used to. He hadn’t quite given in to Janus’ offered hugs, or any casual touch at all really, but he was getting used to one of the two just sitting with him for hours, covering him with weighted and fuzzy blankets, and gently distracting him with puzzles or that god-awful gum or just repeating where he was, and that he was safe. Was this what being loved was supposed to feel like?

So he trudged down the steps, hearing the shower running as he walked past the master bedroom, and slowly approached Janus at the dining room table. The man turned to greet him, giving him that soft smirk.

“Morning, kid. Happy birthday.”

Virgil smiled shyly, remembering the sign for thank you after a moment, and dropped the note onto the table next to Janus’ mug. He took a seat across from him, hiding his shaking hands in his lap, and watched with bated breath as he took the slip of paper and read it.

“‘How long did it take you to feel okay with Logan after CT?’ As in, feel okay dating a man?”

Virgil nodded and then, just for practice, signed yes. 

“The short answer? Probably two years, and I was still hesitant going into the relationship. It took us a longer time to get to the comfort level we’re at now. You need to go at your pace, Virgil. You shouldn’t force anything.” 

And then, as he tended to do when no one was there to fill the silence, he began to rant. This was also something Virgil was surprised he had come to enjoy, pulling up his feet so he could sit cross legged on the chair and setting his chin overtop his folded arms on the table. 

“I think it’s ridiculous that our basic human rights are still up for debate,” Janus sighed, taking a long sip of his tea, “Soulmarks are more than enough proof that we have no control over who we love- not that we should need that kind of proof to be validated. But people are afraid of what they don’t know, so they portray us as monsters who need to be fixed.” He’d begun rubbing absentmindedly at his wrist and Virgil’s eyes tracked the movement, noticing for the first time the small compass that was just a couple shades darker than the man’s skin. It almost blended in, and he probably never would have noticed it, if the small needle in the center weren’t slowly rotating towards the stairs. 

Logan entered the dining room from that direction, greeting his husband with a small kiss on the head and his foster child with a relaxed smile. He must have noticed Virgil’s occasional glance at the other’s wrist, wordlessly flipping over his own arm. His matching compass was pulling towards Janus’, an ever present symbol that they were meant to be together. Then, he patted his husband’s shoulder, going to get the coffee his husband always made for him. 

“You’re not broken, Virgil,” Janus murmured. Virgil’s head shot up, surprised at his bluntness, “You’re not. And if anyone tells you differently, they’ll have to deal with me,” He said firmly as he took a long sip.

“No threatening, Janus!”

Virgil snorted into his fist, grinning as Janus winked at him and said, “Sorry, Logan,” into his mug.

“Incorrigible.” Logan sighed as he exited the kitchen with his coffee, dropping into the seat between the two. “And happy birthday, Virgil. Would you like to choose what we have for breakfast, or would you like us to decide?”

That was something they’d learned about him quickly; he had awful choice paralysis. Choosing between two choices was already anxiety inducing, but a variety of things, like having to narrow it down to one food item? Lethal. Virgil quickly pointed to Logan, who chuckled. 

“French toast, then?”

Virgil nodded.

“I’ll get started on that in a moment. Janus, do you have his gift?”

“It’s in the living room, let me go get it.”

And that got his heart racing. ‘Gifts’ weren’t good things. They were leverage, blackmail, with a promise of a ‘returned favor’ in the near future. Virgil didn’t like things held against him like that. What if they gave him a present, and then demanded he pay them back for it the moment things weren’t peachy? Who was he kidding, he was in the honeymoon phase of this new foster family. It would take a month, like it did with the others, and then they’d find something about him that they hated and they’d force him to change it and he wouldn’t be able to refuse because they gave him food and shelter and above all, a gift on his birthday, and he would owe them a debt and he was stuck and-

“Virgil? What are five orange things you can see?”

His head popped up- when had he grabbed his hair like that?- and he noticed how heavily he was breathing. His foster parents were looking at him in concern, not pity, but legitimate concern for his well being (wack), Janus holding his hands behind his back. It was Logan that had spoken.

“Five orange things you can see, Virgil. You can just point.”

Don’t disappoint them more, his mind screamed, so he pointed at the far wall, near the entryway.

“The bridge on the calendar picture, very good. What else?”

Point through the pass through window into the kitchen.

“The sponge, well done. Three more.”

In front of Janus’ empty seat.

“The letters on the mug-”

Quick point to the book shelf in the living room.

“-and the book on my shelf. Last one?”

It took Virgil a longer moment before he found a cup of pens on the small coffee table behind the sofa, gesturing to the orange capped pen amongst the others. 

“Wonderful. Are you feeling a bit better now?”

He didn’t respond, choosing to track Janus’ movements as he sat back into his chair, adjusting his hands so they were on his lap, most likely holding the gift he was hiding. Logan leaned against the couch as his husband spoke.

“Kid, I need you to understand something, alright? You don’t owe us anything. We want to give you a gift because it’s your birthday, and we want to celebrate you. This isn’t some favor that you have to return.”

How Janus understood Virgil’s distress, the younger could only guess. But his words of reassurance were enough to get Virgil to accept the wrapped package as he presented it with minimal shaking, for once demanding his brain relax. Neither of the men mentioned how delicately he unwrapped it, carefully tugging at the tape as to not rip the paper. Why risk it?

His mouth gaped when he saw the present for the first time, holding the box in a white knuckled grip.

“We were told yours was taken from you and never returned, and figured that you needed a new one,” Logan said. 

It was the first new thing Virgil had ever gotten. His clothes were from thrift stores or hand downs, his school supplies consisted of a found pencil and a ripped binder from the group home’s storage, forget ever having his own computer or video games or…

“This is a phone!”

“That it is.” Janus was smiling, taking a sip of his now lukewarm tea.

“I can’t- You can’t just- I don’t-” 

“We can, and we did. You’re seventeen, you kind of need a phone just for everyday life. And unless you give us a reason not to trust you with it, we have no worries.”

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t- 

Janus slid the tissue box across the table, but Virgil elected to ignore it, refusing to take his eyes off the box in his hands. 

“Thank you,” he barely choked out, “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome, Virgil,” Logan responded for the both of them, returning back to the kitchen nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just given Virgil more than he’d ever gotten in his entire life combined. “I’m going to start on breakfast.”

“I can help you set it up. Then you can download some music… maybe contact the soulmate of yours again.” Janus switched chairs so he was next to Virgil, careful not to touch him, and Virgil couldn’t help grinning blindingly up at him.

It would only be after breakfast that Virgil would realize that he’d spoken. It would be a longer journey until he’d be able to talk again effortlessly, but he was a step closer. 

Part 4 HERE!

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[shortprince-cos]

Patton Angst Fic Because I Can't Stop

Summary: Patton decides to run...a little experiment.

Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort.

Ship: Platonic or Romantic LAMP, your choice.

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, exhaustion, crying, not eating, breaking down a door, loneliness. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

~~~~~

Patton was tired.

That was more of an understatement. He woke up at 6:00 every morning to make breakfast for all of the sides. Most of them ate a little differently, so it required a lot of work to get all of the meals perfect.

Everyone took their meals back to their rooms to eat. An occasional thanks was given, but most meals were lonely, with only Patton eating at the dinner table.

Patton didn't mind.

After eating breakfast, Patton would clean the house. He did this every day. He probably didn't need to clean the whole house every day, but he wanted to. He wanted it to be perfect.

He would take a 'break' at noon, just in time for lunch. Making all the sides different lunches every day took a lot of work, but it was worth his family being happy.

...They never thanked him. Or sat with him during lunch.

But they appreciated him! They just didn't show it very often!

Patton didn't mind.

Believe it or not, Patton did take breaks. He went to check on everyone during the day, just wondering if they needed anything. Sometimes they would ask for water, or some kind of help, but more often than not, they dismissed Patton, saying they were 'too busy for distractions'.

Patton didn't mind.

He returned to cleaning after lunch. That usually lasted until 5:00. Patton would spend at least an hour working on the perfect dinner, one that everyone would enjoy! Dinner was usually the time when the whole family could get together and just talk about their day, or whatever they wanted really! It was when everyone was done with their work, and they could just spend time together!

...More recently, no one even came to get food. Patton wasted an hour making perfect meals, only to eat a fraction, and have to throw the rest away when it goes bad.

Patton...did mind. But he always acted like he didn't.

Patton stressed cleaned and cooked every day. No one knew that it was because of stress, but they never talked to him anyway, so it wasn't their fault.

Sometimes things got too overwhelming. The amount of work he had to do for Thomas, even though it was very little, it weighed heavily on him. Trying to fix everyone else's problems, but ignoring his own.

It was better to ignore those problems anyway, it's not like he had anyone to help him with them. Not like he helped the others.

Constantly worrying about the right decisions. Not just his decisions, everyone else's too. All of these things were torture, but they were worth it.

Were they worth it? No one thanked him. They barely even talked to him. It almost seemed like they were ignoring him after the last video. They only talked if they needed something, or they were in a video. Movie nights were long forgotten, the last one probably before the courtroom. After that, everyone was on edge, and started spending more time alone.

Patton lay in his bed, thinking about all of this. He rarely even fell asleep in his bed, most of his sleep was on the couch, when he couldn't keep his eyes open at 3:00 in the morning. He only went to his bed if he needed to think, and boy was he thinking.

'Was any of this worth it? They must acknowledge some of the things I do. Right?'

Patton was finally breaking down from the pressure. Actually realizing what was happening to his family- to him.

'Maybe I should test it. If they notice, I'll come right back, no harm done. If they don't notice...maybe I wouldn't be in the way anymore.'

Patton decided to run an experiment. He would stay in his room until someone noticed he wasn't there. He was sick and tired of being left alone, so he'll finally see if they actually cared or not.

Hopefully they would notice immediately. If they didn't notice in the first week...Patton wasn't sure if he would be around for the second.

---

Logan woke up at 8:00am precisely, as he always does. He quickly got up, showered, got dressed, brushed his teeth and hair, and tied his tie before going downstairs.

Logan didn't see any breakfast today, or any Patton for that matter. It was...odd, but Logan didn't think too much of it.

'He must have taken a day off. Usually he would tell us, but he must have forgotten.' Logan thought. Oh well, that meant Logan wouldn't have many distractions today.

Logan started brewing some coffee. Should he have breakfast? Of course it's 'The most important meal of the day!' as Patton would say. Was Logan going to have it? No. He usually wasn't hungry in the morning anyway, and he only ate it for Patton.

"Coffee instead of Crofter's? Who are you, and what have you done with Logan?" Logan turned to see Virgil coming down the stairs in his pajamas with his hoodie on top. His sarcastic joke making Logan chuckle a bit.

"Well, Patton left me with an option today." Logan explained while pouring his coffee into a mug that said '#1 Teacher!'.

"Patton isn't making us eat breakfast today? We can have whatever?" Virgil's face widened with a bit of surprise, but he looked more excited than anything.

"It seems he has taken a day off. Coffee?" Logan offered Virgil his mug, Virgil quickly accepted and drank it black.

"Patton took a day off? I'm shocked. Like, actually shocked. That never happens."

"I am 'shook' as well."

"Never say that again."

"Did I say it wrong? Is that not the meaning?"

"No, it was right, but it was super embarrassing and cringy. I have no idea why we taught you these things, it was obviously a mistake."

---

Logan's day went by normally- well almost. Patton never knocked on his door, and Logan never heard the vacuum running. He...missed it? He had no idea if that statement was correct, but he knew that working was a little harder without the white noise of the vacuum running from downstairs.

Why Patton vacuumed the entire house every day was a mystery to Logan. He certainly didn't need to. But the noise in the background was always comforting for some reason.

Logan didn't take any breaks today. He forgot to eat lunch, and by the time he was done with his work, it was 9:48pm. Oops. Guess he should probably eat something.

Logan made his way downstairs, surprised when Patton wasn't there. Logan also didn't understand why Patton slept on the couch most of the time, but whatever figuratively floats his boat, Logan supposed. It was odd not seeing him all day though.

Logan only ate Crofter's on some toast for dinner before going back upstairs at 10:13pm to go to bed.

He got to his bedroom door and hesitated. He glanced to Patton's door, debating something in his mind.

'Should I see if he's alright?' Logan thought. 'No, I'm just overreacting. All he did was take a day off, there's no need to worry.'

No need to worry.

---

It was two days later, and Virgil was worrying a bit. He hadn't seen Patton for awhile, and while he was happy he wasn't being helicopter-parented, he couldn't help but wonder where he was.

Despite being upset with him for accepting Jan-Deceit, Virgil wanted to just break into his room and find out what was happening, but as always, his anxiety stopped him.

"Logan?" He decided to ask Logan if he was being irrational or not.

"Yes Virgil?" Logan responded, not looking up from his book or moving from his spot on the couch.

"It may be just me, but, I'm worried about Patton." That got Logan's attention.

"Well, it certainly isn't just you. I have to admit I am a bit troubled for him as well. However, it has only been three days, I don't think we should jump to any conclusions. Besides, if Patton wanted to see us, he would. He might just want some time alone right now, especially after the last video we did." Logan explained. This calmed Virgil down a bit.

"Right." Virgil cringed, remembering the events of the episode he missed. "Ok, thanks Logan."

"No problem, Virgil." Logan smiled at Virgil before returning to his book.

Virgil sighed and plopped down next to Logan on the couch. He didn't really want to go back to his anxiety-inducing room after he just calmed down.

The two sat in silence the rest of the day.

---

Roman had just gotten back from his adventure in the imagination. He had been gone since...the video, but now he was ready to face everyone again! Saving an imaginary town full of imaginary people sure does boost your confidence!

But it was time to actually confront his problems. Like Patton and De-Janus. It still felt weird to say his actual name.

Roman emerged from his room for the first time in at least a week. The halls were empty. That's not normal. But were any of them 'normal' after the newest video? Not really.

Roman cautiously made his way down the steps to find Logan sitting at the table, and Virgil sitting on top of the couch.

They both kind of looked awful. Logan had bags under his unconcentrated eyes, his mind clearly wandering from his book while he fidgeted with his necktie.

Virgil...looked like Virgil, except he looked really tense and his brows were furrowed with worry.

"Well, I'd certainly hoped for a more enthusiastic response to my late arrival." Roman called attention to himself at the bottom of the stairs.

"Roman!" Virgil immediately shot up from the couch and ran over to hug Roman, which was...strange.

"Roman, where have you been?! You've been gone for three weeks!" Logan scolded while walking over to Virgil and Roman.

"Jeez, L. I just got back and I'm already getting yelled at?" Roman complained. "Wait, three weeks? No, that- that can't be right. I've only been gone a couple days."

"Well, clearly your calculations are wrong."

Virgil suddenly pulled away from Roman, choosing to shove him instead.

"Hey- what-?!"

"Do you have any idea how worried I was about you and Patton?! You've been gone for so long, I thought something had happened, but Logan told me not to worry, but then I started worrying more because what if we should have been worried and something did happen to you and we didn't know because we weren't worr-"

"Virgil!" Roman grabbed Virgil's shoulders to get his attention. "Calm down time, I'm fine. But, why are you worried about Patton? Where is he?"

"We assume he's in his room, but we haven't seen him for about seven days, three hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty-three seconds." Logan explained casually.

"And you haven't checked on him, why?"

"Logan says he's probably just taken the week off, or something..." Virgil quietly mumbled.

"Ok...that is very weird though. I mean, has Patton ever taken time off? Like, since we've known him?" Roman questioned Logan.

"Well, no. But I suspect Deceit has told him that he should take some time off, given the point of the last episode." Logan explained while Roman cringed at the thought of the last time he saw Patton.

Virgil groaned as well.

"Something wrong, Roman? Virgil?"

"Nothing..." The two quietly moaned in unison.

"Very well, if you two are so bothered by Patton's absence, I suppose we could go check on him." Logan offered while gesturing upstairs.

"Logan, you've been fidgeting with your tie throughout this entire conversation, and you expect us to believe you aren't worried?" Virgil accused while Logan very clearly stopped toying with his necktie.

Logan cleared his throat, his face turning slightly pinker. "Well- uh- lets just go."

And so the three of them journeyed up to Patton's light blue door, hoping to find their friend perfectly fine.

"Should we knock?" Virgil asked.

"Yes, if he doesn't respond, then we'll go in." Logan said in his 'I don't have feelings, but I'll comfort you anyway' voice.

Roman knocked three times and awaited an answer.

Nothing.

Roman knocked louder this time.

Nothing.

"Patton?" Roman tried opening the door, but alas, it's locked.

"Should we-" Virgil started before Roman kicked the door in surprisingly fast.

"ROMAN, YOU SHOULD HAVE WARNED ME FIRST!" Virgil exclaimed before looking into Patton's room.

"Empty." Logan stated the obvious.

Everyone slowly walked into the lifeless room.

"Wait." Virgil said quietly.

Well, almost lifeless.

Virgil slowly walked over to Patton's bed, which now everyone could see had a small figure hiding under the covers.

"Patton?" Virgil whispers as he kneels down next to the bed.

Suddenly a little Patton face comes out from under the comforter. "Yeah?" He asks in a small, meek voice.

"We were worried about you, are you alright?" Logan questioned as he walked over to where Patton was on the bed.

"Oh, so now you're worried." Patton replied with an attitude that he never had before.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Virgil tried his best to not let anger seep through his voice.

"Nothing, apparently." Patton buried himself in the blanket again, leaving the other sides confused.

"Yikes, he really has been spending too much time with Janus." Roman stated, which made something in Patton snap.

Patton immediately pulled the covers off and sat up angrily. "No! No, I haven't, because he's afraid you guys will hate him even more if he talks to me! And none of you guys ever come out of your rooms anymore because you're all mad at me! No one ever even acknowledges me anymore! I'm just so-so a-alone!" At this point Patton had hot tears rolling down his face while he gasped for more air.

"I-I know you guys need t-time, but...I can't do it anymore, I just c-can't."

"P-Patton-" Virgil started before Patton started laughing- wait, laughing?

"Its funny, right? How-how I can take all the time in the world to work through my issues, but the moment you guys need time..." Patton slumped in exhaustion. "God, I'm so selfish. I can't even last two weeks without you guys."

"Maybe, but we shouldn't have ignored you. We should have talked about it instead of ignoring it." Virgil said. "Instead of ignoring you."

"N-No. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm j-just overreacting, is all." Patton wiped away his tears even though new ones kept forming. "I-I'm fine."

"You're clearly not fine, Patton." Logan put his hands on Patton's. "You've apparently been sulking in your room all week. When did you even intend on coming out?"

"But Logan," Patton's face lit up. Oh no. "We came out years ago!"

Three different groans rang out in the bedroom.

"Patton, you know very well what I meant." Patton's face fell quicker than it rose.

"I-I know...Roman, when did you get back?"

Roman's face got a little happier. "Just today-"

"Patton." Logan interrupted, squeezing Patton's hand a little more. "You didn't answer my question."

Patton looked between the three of them before looking towards the floor and mumbling something indecipherable.

"Uh- what was that, Pat?" Virgil asked cautiously.

Patton quickly looked back up to meet Virgil's eyes. "I wasn't going to!" He exclaimed.

Everyone's faces were quickly filled with shock and disbelief.

Roman moved to sit next to Patton as well. "W-What? You were just going to stay in your room forever?" Patton only shook his head. "Then, what-?"

"No." Virgil suddenly interrupted, the shock never leaving his face. "Patton, tell me you weren't going to-" Virgil raised his hand to cover his mouth.

"Spit it out, Virge!" Roman exclaimed.

"It seems Patton was going to d-" Logan stopped in disbelief. "excuse me- duck out. R-Right?"

Roman gasped. "Patton, that's not true is it? It can't be true."

Patton started sobbing. Well, there was his answer.

Virgil shot up from where he was kneeling and quickly pounced on Patton, giving him a giant hug that was probably long overdue.

Logan and Roman looked at each other before joining the hug pile too.

Eventually they had to stop, considering Patton had to breathe sometime, so they all climbed off of each other.

Patton still had a few tears streaming down his face. "I'm-I'm sor-"

"Don't you dare apologize for feeling like that. Just don't." Virgil scolded quickly.

"Well, then you guys can't apologize either!" Patton claimed.

"Yes we can!" All three said in unison, which made Patton giggle a bit.

"Well, that's not fair." Patton complained with a small smile on his face.

"Alright, alright." Logan attracted everyone's attention. "Now that we have that sorted, maybe we should relax and try to de-stress for awhile, hm?"

"Sounds super!" Roman exclaimed before picking up a giggling Patton in a bridal style hold.

As Logan and Virgil exited the room, Roman leaned down and whispered to Patton.

"I'm sorry about the video. I shouldn't have overreacted like that. I know you're trying your best."

"Well, I'm sorry too-"

"Ah bupbupbup!" Roman booped Patton's nose playfully. "I thought we said you couldn't apologize anymore today!"

Patton only giggled more in response.

Soon enough all four of them were on the couch watching an array of Disney movies, the earlier events drifting from their minds.

~~~~~

Y'all wanted a stupid title, so there ya go! This fic was super self indulgent, so that's why it is the way it is.

If you ever feel alone or like life isn't worth it anymore, I highly suggest getting some help from a professional. Please don't shut yourself in away from people who care about you, because that will only make things worse. Remember, if you're gone, there's always someone who will miss you, even if it doesn't feel like there is.

General Taglist: @decadentscissorsapricotdeputy @resident-trash-goblin @thefingergunsgirl @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dle @tranquil-space-ninja @wellhellothere09 @lugooble @sander-crossing @disney-princess-patton @obsessedalli @hi-its-tutty Ask if you would like to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated! 💖

[super-secret-sick-fics]

ouu yes ive been so obsessed with them (osasuna) recently and there’s barely any fics for them in this department lol i wanted to see something like suna coming to school sick with the stomach flu or something and osamu taking him home to take care of him (i feel like it’s ooc for suna to go to go school if he’s not feeling well so it’d probably be one of those where it gets progressively worse throughout the day) sorry if this is too long haha

Okay!! Thank you for this request. Sorry it took so long. Honestly, I had a lot of fun with this and it ended up being so long, that I’m gonna post it in 2 parts!!

You can totally read either as a stand alone though. Part 2 should be up soon :)

Suna and I have the same birthday, so I actually kinda put a lot of myself into him in this one since we share a star sign lmao. I hope it’s not too ooc for either of them. It’s my first time writing sunaosa!

Sick at School: a SunaOsa fic

Pair: Sick Suna, Caretaker Osamu

Word Count: 3,024

Warnings: vomit & swearing & soft cuddles

Part 2 Here

_________________________________

Suna was confused.

There was a strange gnawing in his gut that wasn’t there when he woke up this morning. In fact, when he woke up this morning, he felt perfectly fine. Maybe he was a little more tired than usual, but he didn’t sleep all that well, so he brushed it off and got ready for school.

But now, he was sitting in class, his eyes burning as he tried to stay awake. It was only Monday and only the second class of the day, but he felt like he’d been at school for days already. On top of the grumbly feeling in his stomach, his brain was muddled, so paying attention to whatever his teacher was saying was taking every bit of energy he could scrounge up.

It didn’t make sense. He slept his eight hours (even if it wasn’t the best sleep), he ate a good breakfast, he was hydrated, there weren’t any tests or games coming up to make him anxious at all. So the unsteady, uncomfortable, unusual feelings he currently felt simply did not make a single bit of logical, rational sense.

And because they didn’t make sense—because there was no rational reason for him to feel that way—he ignored it.

Ignoring it proved to be more difficult than he anticipated as the fog in his brain solidified into a consistent pounding and the gnawing in his stomach started to feel more like his stomach acid was boiling. The sun shining on him through the window didn’t help any, and he started to feel rather warm. By his fourth class, occasional cramps rolled through his body, forcing him to tense every muscle in his body to keep from wincing.

When the teacher finally released them for lunch, Suna folded his arms on his desk and hid his face in the crook of his elbow, ready to take a nap. Within three seconds, he heard the chair in front of him scrape the ground, grating on his ears, and felt his desk shake as someone sat down. He adjusted his head and peeked over his arm to find Osamu staring down at him, his usual bored look gracing his features.

“Yer sick, Sunarin,” he deadpanned and took a bite of his sandwich. Suna blinked at him several times.

Sick? Was that why he felt so weird? But he wasn’t sick this morning. There was no way he would have come to school if he felt bad.

Still, it would explain why he slept poorly. It must be a fast acting bug.

“I guess so,” he mumbled and buried his face in his elbow again.

“Hmmm,” Osamu mumbled. They were quiet for a minute or two before Osamu spoke again.

“Wanna go to the infirmary?” he asked, his mouth full.

Suna looked up at him again and sighed before sitting up. The world spun around for a brief second and he closed his eyes until the feeling went away. When it righted itself once more, his stomach was hurting worse than before.

“How’d you know anyway?” he asked and rested his chin in his hand.

“You’ve been lookin’ bad all mornin’. Wasn’t hard to tell.” Osamu shrugged. His sandwich was gone and he started making his way through the onigiri he most likely made himself. The fact that Osamu could tell he wasn’t feeling well from across the room made Suna blush. Or maybe he had a fever?

“Plus,” Osamu continued, “Tsumu’s home right now with a pretty nasty stomach bug. Threw up all over his bed last night.” He scrunched up his nose cutely, probably remembering the disastrous scene from the night before. Atsumu was never good at being a sick person. Or an injured person. Or a person at all, really.

“Wouldn’t be all that surprising if ya caught it from him since ya slept over at our place last weekend.”

Suna nodded in agreement.

“What about you?” he asked. Osamu shrugged again.

“I’ll probably be spewin’ my guts out by Thursday. Usually how it goes. One of us catches something then the other is sick within the week. We’ve only been sick at the same time a handful o’ times.”

“Mmmm,” Suna nodded and put his head down once more. It was suddenly very difficult to hold his head up.

“Infirmary?” Osamu asked again. Suna shook his head.

“Can’t move,” he whined before he could stop himself. Osamu looked at him with wide eyes.

“W-well, I’ll help ya out, dumbass,” he stuttered and Suna returned the wide eyed look.

“Uh, sure. But finish your lunch first. I can wait. You should eat. Wake me up when you’re done,” he said and closed his eyes.

“Alright. Lemme know if we need to go sooner though…” Osamu said hesitantly and Suna tried to ignore the implication behind the phrase.

Just because Atsumu had a stomach bug didn’t mean that Suna did too. He wouldn’t throw up at school. The increasing nausea absolutely had to be related to the growing migraine that slammed away at his head. He definitely would not throw up at school.

Before he started overthinking himself into a downward spiral, Osamu placed a hand in his hair. Suna was tense at first, but then Osamu started gently scratching his scalp and he immediately relaxed. He was a little embarrassed, honestly. Not because this was unusual though.

Osamu knew it helped Suna with his frequent headaches, so Suna was sure he somehow knew about the incoming migraine. It was just that this was usually something Osamu did for him in much more private settings. He’d do it on the bus on the way back from away games, or in one of their rooms after school or during a sleepover. To be so affectionate in the middle of their classroom was unheard of and if Suna wasn’t feeling so poorly, he’d probably smack Osamu’s hand away.

“Ya got a slight fever there, Sunarin,” Osamu whispered gently.

“Mmmm.”

“Okay. I’ll let ya know when I’m done eatin’.”

“Mmmm.”

Within a few seconds, Suna felt himself drift off.

When he woke up again, it wasn’t because of Osamu.

A violent cramp rolled through his gut and he shot up in his seat, ignoring the startled looks of his classmates. The cramp passed quickly, but left behind a foreboding feeling of nausea so intense it left him paralyzed and glued to his seat.

A second later, he noticed that Osamu was nowhere to be found and his anxiety increased. The situation was becoming increasingly urgent and there was no way in hell he could move or speak without throwing up all over his desk.

His chest tightened and he swallowed back a gag. He needed help. He needed Osamu.

“Suna-kun?” a girl from his class touched his shoulder and he flinched. She withdrew her hand.

“O-osamu—“ he forced out and she nodded urgently and ran away and out the door. Less than a minute later, she came back, Osamu hot on her heels. She pointed to Suna and Osamu nodded before rushing over and stood in front of him.

“Sunarin?” he tried and Suna shook his head.

“Are ya gonna—“ Suna nodded before Osamu could finish his question. The eyes of all of his classmates burned Suna’s already flushed cheeks and as if to let everyone know what was going on, a gag forced itself through his body painfully and he leaned over his desk. He brought the back of his hand up to his mouth and whimpered.

“Can someone bring me a trash can, maybe?” Osamu snapped at their peers. The girl from before nodded and dashed to the corner of the room and dragged the trash can over to Suna’s desk.

Everyone froze again and stared with scared eyes at the situation unfolding. Suna shook with effort, trying to stop the inevitable. He really really didn’t want everyone to watch him throw up.

Thankfully, Osamu had his back.

“Leave?!” He shouted and everyone ran out of the room.

“I’ll bring the nurse, Osamu-kun,” the same girl said and Osamu nodded, but his eyes were focused only on Suna. They’d have to remember to thank that girl later.

“I’m sorry, Rintaro. I finished my lunch and you were sleepin’ so peaceful I thought I had time to go to the bathroom before I took ya to the infirmary,” Osamu apologized and cupped Suna’s face in his hands. His voice was much softer than a second ago. It was the voice reserved for those quiet nights that they spent chatting before they fell asleep. Or on the team bus early in the morning when everyone else was still too groggy to pay attention to them. And it comforted Suna in ways he couldn’t comprehend.

“I feel sick, S-samu,” Suna forced through gritted teeth. The swirling in his stomach grew more insistent by the second and he knew it was only a matter of time before he was leaning over the trash can.

“I know, Rin. I’m sorry. It’s okay. I’ve got ya,” Osamu smiled softly at him and brushed his hair back. He frowned when Suna unconsciously leaned into his cold hands.

“Fever got higher,” he mumbled. Suna gagged again.

“Alright, c‘mon,” he said and circled around the desk behind Suna. Osamu gently grabbed his trembling shoulders and positioned him over the trash can. People’s leftovers from lunch filled about half the bin and the smell of all the different foods made Suna dizzy.

“Rin, ya gotta relax,” Osamu sighed and forcefully rubbed between Suna’s shoulder blades.

“N-no,” Suna said stubbornly.

“Yer an idiot.”

“Y-yeah.”

“It’s gonna feel worse if ya don’t just let it happen,” Osamu tried. Suna shook his head.

“Alright well, be mad at me later, then,” Osamu muttered. Suna was about to turn and look at him questioningly, but Osamu wrapped a hand around Suna’s front and placed it on his stomach. Even the minimal contact forced a wretch that left Suna reeling.

“D-don’t,” he tried, but the request was punctuated by a painful hiccup.

“I’m sorry. Can’t do that,” Osamu responded before starting to rub up and down on Suna’s stomach quickly. The motion shook the contents nauseatingly and Suna couldn’t stop the watery burp that followed. He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

Osamu didn’t relent. He started patting Suna’s back with the other hand, forcing belch after belch. The conflicting motions wreaked havoc on Suna’s already chaotic stomach.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever, before Suna grabbed Osamau’s wrist tightly.

“S-stop—hurrk. P-please, Samu. No m-mor—hic,” Suna begged. All of his limbs felt like they were about a thousand pounds and he shivered, cold despite the sun beating down on his back.

“It’s okay, Rin. I got ya,” Osamu muttered. He pried Suna’s sweaty hand off his wrist and replaced it with his hand. Suna squeezed hard when a wet belch jolted his body. His other hand grabbed the rim of the trash can in a white-knuckled grip. Osamu used his free hand to rub gently between Suna’s shoulder blades again.

Suna squeezed his eyes shut when he wretched. His throat felt tight and he tried to swallow the accumulating saliva in his mouth, only for it to come back up with a noisy gag. He opted to just drop his mouth open and let the spit fall into the trash can disgustingly.

“S-Samu—“ he tried but was interrupted by a guttural, wet, burp that left his head spinning. Two seconds later, he wretched and a weak stream vomit dribbled out of his mouth. It burned his throat and coated his mouth. The disgusting taste left him more nauseous than he thought possible and a belch gurgled in the back of his throat. He heaved, but nothing else came up.

“Ah, Rin, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry,” Osamu shushed him. Suna didn’t even realize he was crying.

He continued heaving for what must have been an eternity before another painful gag jolted him forward and brought with it a torrent of pale vomit into the trash can. At least he didn’t have to see everyone’s discarded lunch anymore. Not that his new view was much prettier.

“There ya, go Sunarin,” Osamu soothed. Suna sputtered and coughed, trying to catch his breath. His body was relentless though, and before he felt like he had sufficient oxygen, he was lurching forward with more forceful vomit pouring out of his mouth.

Suna’s body didn’t let up. It was stuck in a seemingly endless cycle of gasping breaths abruptly interrupted by a fountain of vomit forcing its way out. Eventually, he was just left heaving over the trash can, his stomach trying but failing to expel whatever might be left. Anxiety crawled up his spine and the room spun. He wanted to breathe, he really did. He just couldn’t.

“Fuck, Rin, breathe. Please,” Osamu demanded and his voice shattered through Suna’s panic. He nodded and closed his eyes to try and collect himself. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled heavily through his mouth. A minute or two of that, and he was able to take in his surroundings again.

At some point, Osamu wrapped an arm around Suna’s chest because apparently, his own arms gave out at some point and hung limply at his sides. He spit the residual nastiness out of his mouth and squinted up at Osamu.

“Can we leave?” he asked plainly. Osamu stared at him owlishly and then chuckled.

“It’s the middle of the day Rin, I can’t just—“

“Please?” he all but begged and grabbed Osamu’s arm. Osamu hesitated for the briefest of seconds before relenting with a heavy breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘course. Want me to call yer mom?” Osamu responded. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off Suna’s face. Suna shook his head.

“Is it too much to ask if I can stay with you? I don’t want to risk giving this to my little sister and grandma.” His voice was quieter than he wanted, but he was wiped out. He cleared his throat and spit in the trash can. He was fading fast. All he wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep whatever bug this was off.

“Yeah okay. I’ll ask my Ma. Shouldn’t be too much of an issue since Tsumu’s sick too.” Osamu pulled out his phone and massaged Suna’s scalp. It felt so good that he leaned over and buried his face in Osamu’s stomach. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall asleep here. Hopefully Osamu’s mom would be okay with it and come quickly.

“Ma, can you come pick me and— no I’m not sick— well, if you’d just let me talk ya crazy—Ma I do have a good reason to be call— would ya stop talkin—yer damn right I’m being disrespectfu—Ma!” As Osamu argued with his mother over the phone (it was nothing new) Suna took inventory of his body.

There was no denying he was sick. That much was obvious. His head was pounding and his stomach still rolled and swirled uncomfortably. Shivers danced up and down his body, exacerbated by the sweat that coated his skin. He was sure that he had a fever. All of his limbs weighed him down and he didn’t think he had any sort of energy to move them. It was taking all he had to stay awake right now.

“Osamu-san!” The girl from before returned, the school nurse right behind her.

“Suna Rintaro, you poor boy. Caught that bug going around, I see,” he heard the nurse and pulled his face away from Osamu’s body. Blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision, he sniffed and stared at the old lady in front of him.

She stuck a thermometer in his mouth without saying a word and pulled a water bottle out from her coat pocket. While they were waiting for his temperature, Suna glanced at Osamu, who was now leaning against the desk behind Suna’s. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, his other still holding the phone to his ear as he continued listening to his mother rant.

Without thinking, Suna reached over and grabbed a hold of Samu’s shirt with one hand. Osamu looked down in surprise before his face softened and he put a hand on Suna’s shoulder.

The thermometer beeped and Suna winced.

“38.7,” the nurse read and pursed her lips. She pulled out some medicine from her lab coat and gave some to Suna. He grimaced. Even in his hazy state, he knew putting something in his stomach wouldn’t go over well.

“Suna-kun, you need to get that fever of your’s down. I know it’s not ideal, but please try.” Suna turned his head away. She sighed.

“Okay, but make sure you take something at home. Does someone need to call your mother?” Before Suna could answer, Osamu interrupted.

“I’ll take him ma’am,” he said, apparently off the phone with his mother.

“Osamu-kun, don’t you be thinking you can just skip out on school,” she warned.

“I would never,” Osamu charmed, “I think it’s the smartest move, ya see. Atsumu is at home with the same illness right now and so there’s no way I ain’t carrying the germs for it. Wouldn’t it be safest if I go home too? Before I infect anyone else. And I can take Sunarin with me.”

The nurse gave him a skeptical look, but then glanced over at Suna. She noticed his grip on Osamu’s shirt and the former’s hand firmly on Suna’s back. It must’ve made Suna look pretty pathetic because she relented almost immediately.

“Oh fine, fine. Does someone need to call your mom?”

“No, ma’am. Just got off the phone with her. She’ll be here soon. Said she’s got no problem taking Sunarin in ‘til he’s all better.” He squeezed Suna’s shoulder and Suna relaxed knowing he wasn’t at risk of infecting his little sister or aging grandmother. He sighed and smiled gratefully at Osamu.

It was comforting to know that Osamu was going to be looking after him. Because, if the swirling in his stomach told him anything, he was in for a really long night.

[susiequaz12]

Carrot Top- 13: Punished

I guess these chapters are getting progressively longer and longer. I think I’m okay with that. As always, my inbox is always open with any questions about the story/characters/world/tag list/etc, or if you just want to talk! So anyways, here’s part 13! (Side note: I didn’t expect to actually continue so far with this and have it have so many parts, but I’ve already got 18 chapters written and a whole storyline, so I guess there’s no turning back now.)

CW: (Finally a bit of fluff/comfort) not for long though, restraints, muzzled, dehumanization, captivity, non con touching (nonsexual), possessive whumper, blood.

Tag list: @imagination1reality0, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @thehopelessopus 

The next 24 hours while Andrew continued to rest from Howe’s procedure were arguably worse than some of the previous times he’d been alone with Splice.

He was constantly bothered. 

After Splice had placed the muzzle on and left, Howe came in looking exasperated. He cut open the leg of his pants, and stitched up Andrew’s leg as best as he could before putting the boy back to sleep. When he finally woke up a while later, Splice came in just to torment him. He gave him another grammar lesson- removing the muzzle for a few minutes just to hear Andrew plead and beg out of fear. He would wait for the boy to give him the answers that he wanted before placing it back on his face again.

That happened several times. And by the third or fourth lesson, Andrew began to believe it. The words that he was forced to repeat echoed over and over in his mind.

He belonged to Splice.

He was an object to be used whenever, and wherever that he saw fit.

Because he deserved it.

- - -

When his chest had healed enough for Howe to remove the bands holding him down, the boy found that he still couldn’t move. 

It was as if his limbs didn’t work. They were stiff and achy from being stuck in the same position for so long, his body weakened and deprived. He let out a weak cry as he attempted to bring a hand up to his face. He barely got his wrist off of the table before the muscles in his arm gave out, crashing back down. 

The doctor placed a gentle hand on his back and lifted him up to sitting. Andrew whined through the muzzle as his muscles flared up, and his head lolled to his chest. Howe began to rub the feeling back into the boy’s arms, stimulating his muscles, making sure they still worked.

With the Doctor’s help, he guided the boy to the other side of the room. No doubt he would have carried him if he could, but the boy was at least a head taller than Howe. As Andrew’s toes met the floor, his legs immediately buckled under his weight. If it were not for the Doctor’s steady arm around his back, Andrew would have crashed to the floor. 

It took a few moments for the boy to regain some balance before they were able to move away from the table. Andrew limped drastically, putting most of his weight on one leg, and the doctor, as he shuffled and dragged his feet trying to keep himself upright. 

Howe helped him change into some cleaner cotton pants- the same grey capris from earlier- and pulled a thin, white t-shirt over his head. He sat the boy down on the edge of the soft bed he had initially been placed in when he first met Howe. 

Andrew immediately sank into the softer material. It was much nicer than the examination table- far more comfortable. It had soft sheets, and a thin blanket with an old pillow, but it was comfortable. 

To Andrew it felt like a cloud. Like he was floating. 

He let his body fall into the soft bed as his muscles collapsed underneath him, letting the material of the mattress contour to his aching body- cradling him in the comfort. He didn’t put up a fight or a struggle when Howe restrained his ankles to the bottom of the bed. 

The boy curled over on his side, tucking his hands to his chest as the blanket was pulled over top of him. 

He huffed a small sigh of relief and comfort as he nuzzled his head up against the pillow.

He’d cherish this while he had it, because he knew it wouldn’t last long.

- - -

When Andrew was healed enough to no longer need the constant watchful eye of Howe, he was moved to a cell. 

Well, they called it his room, but it was essentially a cell. 

It was kept inside of the nicer part of the building, the part that connected to the lavish mansion that Splice lived in. Andrew could tell that it was originally meant to be an office, a storage room or something. But all the walls were bare- there were no windows, no outlets, or a lightswitch or anything. The only thing inside the room was a small closet in the corner furnished with a toilet, a cot with a single blanket, and a bench on the opposite side of the room. 

Everything was bolted into the tiled floor.

The door was always heavily bolted from the outside, and guarded with at least two people. Andrew was monitored whenever he left the room, and whenever he came back. It wouldn’t surprise him if there were cameras hidden in the small room as well. 

It had been three days since he’d been moved from that medical room. 

And once he’d realized he’d been here over a week, he knew no one was coming anytime soon. 

His friends were mad at him, surely. 

He’d gotten into a fight with Justin before he left, and it was all his fault. Ali would surely take his side.

All he could think was that if he hadn’t gotten mad at them, hadn’t wandered off on his own, he wouldn’t be here now. 

So Splice was right. 

He deserved it.

Andrew laid on his back on the cot. He had his feet wrapped up in the blanket, the rest of him exposed. His feet were always cold. He wouldn’t dare to ask for something as small as a pair of socks. 

Maybe he could ask for a book or something. Or even a pad of paper- he’d been thinking of taking up drawing again. It was something he was really into during high school, but he’d lost it over the years. 

He just wanted something simple to fight the boredom. 

Something to fight against the monotony. 

Wake up, eat, endure through whatever the heck Splice felt like doing that day, eat again, sleep. And repeat. 

Most days were filled with examinations. He sat in a room filled with “doctors” (the fake ones that Howe had talked about), and was poked and prodded and violated and examined and tested on. 

After all, that’s what Splice did here. He captured their kind, people with their abilities, to examine and experiment on them and see how they worked. 

And then he used those experiments to genetically modify their abilities. 

Some days when Splice got upset, he would take it out on Andrew. There was never a moment the boy went without pain, or discomfort. Constant fear, anxiety, and trauma, invaded his new day-to-day.  

A knock sounded on the door.

Here we go again.

Splice sauntered into the room, carrying a small plate and a glass of water. 

“Good morning carrot top!”

The boy immediately scrambled back into the corner of the wall upon seeing the man but quickly stopped himself.

Splice chuckled. “One of these days you’ll stop acting so scared when you see me. Do I really frighten you that much?”

Andrew paused. Should he answer? The man had taught him many things while he had been there. The consequences that came from talking out of turn had been one of them.

“N- no sir. Sorry sir.” He lowered his head towards the bed and tried to steady the shaking in his limbs as the man stepped closer. He sat on the edge of the bed and held out the plate.

“Eat up. Come on now.” 

Andrew tentatively took the plate. A single piece of toast with a protein spread on it. He gingerly took a bite and kept his eyes down as he chewed.

When he finally managed to choke down his breakfast, the man handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank.

Splice removed the blanket from his feet and unattached the chains that kept him tied down to the cot. On shaky legs he managed to rise and move to the closet in the corner to use the bathroom. When he was done, he limped back to the bed and sat down on the cot.

Splice reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pulled out Andrew’s least favorite part of the day. 

The muzzle.

The foul thing was taken off while he slept and while he ate. Other than for those few times, he was constantly forced to wear it.

He saw the thick leather coming towards his face and imagined the bit in his mouth. All he could feel was it suffocating him, trapping in his breath and his words. Making it hard to swallow, forcing him to choke on his own blood, and vomit. He was sick of wearing it constantly. He wanted to be able to speak he wanted to breathe freely, he wanted to-

“--no.”

The word came out before he realized what he had said. He clamped his hands over his mouth and shook his head. The tears already poured down his face as Splice recoiled in shock.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?” 

The boy kept his hands over his mouth as he mumbled. “I- I’m sorry, msorry- I shouldn’t hve, I- I didn’t please- please, sir, I-”

Splice threw the plate and cup down to the floor where it clattered. The boy flinched. 

“Did you tell me no?”

“I’m - I’msorry I’m sorry, please don’t- I- I”

Splice grabbed the boy’s wrists in one hand and pulled him off of the bed to his feet. He stood on shaky legs, most of his weight leaning to one side.

“Kneel.” 

The boy surprised himself with how quickly his knees hit the ground. He winced as pain flared up his leg- the one that had been stabbed through a few days ago.

“Who do you belong to?” 

Andrew sobbed. Wrists shaking as they were held up in front of him like a forced plea. He leaned forward and put his head in his own hands. 

“You- I- I belong to you.”

“Good.” Splice stated. His other hand went to the back of Andrew’s hair. He pushed the boy’s head into his own chest as he knelt on the floor in front of him. He kept a grip firmly on the boy’s wrists as he stroked the pale hair. The hair that had once been colored with fire, just like the boy’s attitude only a few days ago.

“Now, what did you do wrong?”

Andrew’s chest shook with a sob. 

“I- I said no.”

“Good, and?” Splice prompted.

“And I- I spoke out of turn. I didn- didn’t do what I- what I was s’posed to.”

“Good.” Splice shuffled forward on his knees. The boy leaned backwards to accommodate and Spliced inched further as he did so. 

“You didn’t do what you’re supposed to, exactly.”

He kept a grip on the boy’s wrists and on the back of his hair as he moved forward, pushing the boy down until his back was forced to the ground. 

Andrew’s eyes got wide out of confusion and he let out a small whimper as he untangled his legs out from underneath him to lie flat on his back.

“Can you tell me what happens when you don’t do what you’re supposed to?” Splice moved his hand from the back of Andrew’s hair to the collar around his neck. Once again marking his ownership with a simple piece of fabric.

Andrew choked on his words. Knowing the answer but not wanting to say it. “I- I get- I get punished.”

“Very good.” 

Andrew barely noticed as Splice pulled the small knife out of his suit coat. 

He only noticed when it began to dig into his arm.

He flinched out of instinct to try and move away and Splice tsked under his breath,

“Oh no, hold still now. You can be good, right?”

Splice let go of the boy’s hands and rearranged himself so he was no longer kneeling besides Andrew, but on top of him. One knee pinned his left shoulder down, while the other straddled his opposite side, forcing his arm to the ground.

“You can be good- right?”

Oh no- Splice had to repeat himself, the boy thought. That was bad, he was going to get angry, and when he got angry he would be punished again, and being punished hurt- and he couldn’t, he didn’t want-

The boy nodded, shaking his head eagerly, tears filling his eyes. He wanted to be good. He needed to be good because if he wasn’t- then-

Andrew winced and clenched his eyes shut as he felt the same cold hands on him.

Splice used one hand to push up the sleeve of his thin t-shirt, and pressed the boy’s shoulder into the floor. The other gripped the knife, and began to start where he had left off.

The knife dug into the top of his arm, near his shoulder. 

Andrew whimpered through his teeth. He kept his eyes tight and his breaths shallow, but he did not scream. 

The blade traveled down, down through his bicep, stopping halfway between his shoulder and his elbow. The blood seeped out, warm and sticky as it dripped onto the floor around him. 

The knife left the cut and Andrew breathed out a sigh of relief. His neck arched back, chest rising in pain as it entered his skin again, only an inch away from the first cut. He clenched his teeth and tried to breathe, but with the weight on top of him, and the pain rushing through him, it seemed nearly impossible. 

Finally the knife left and he opened his eyes to see the knife in front of his face.

“Think of these as tally marks.” Splice stated. Andrew’s eyes remained deadly focused on the knife in front of his eyes. “One, for saying no. And another one, as a reminder.” 

The flat side of the blade pressed into Andrew’s cheek and wiped across his face. Andrew closed his eyes, heart pounding at the anticipation of pain when he felt the cold metal across his other cheek. The rest of his own blood from the knife was wiped off onto his face. 

He winced and his eyes shot open as a hand wrapped around the top of his arm. He struggled to stay quiet, struggled to breathe as the pain shot through his arm. But as Splice squeezed the muscles in his arm, he couldn’t help it.

A strangled cry erupted from his mouth followed by a bottled up scream. 

“A reminder to do as you are told. A reminder that you no longer make your own choices. Understand?” 

Andrew nodded through his scream. 

“Do you understand?” 

A nod wasn’t good enough.

Andrew breathed through the pain. Hissing in air through his teeth. Splice gripped his arm tighter.

“I- I arrgh! I- ah- I uh-understand.”

“Good.” 

Splice released his grip and patted the side of the boy’s face, leaving a bloody handprint on his cheek. He reached and ruffled through his hair, leaving it sticky and matted with his own blood.

The knife wavered tauntingly in front of Andrew’s eyes. “You know, I quite like the look of blood on your face. It suits you.”

Andrew shut his eyes as the tip of the knife poked into his forehead, and then trailed around his temple, down to his jawline. It left a faint trail of blood through the skin that mingled with the rest that had been smeared on his face.

 Splice stood up, leaving the boy lying on the floor. He picked up the plate and cup that he had thrown earlier and put the bloody knife back in his pocket.

Placing a hand in the middle of Andrew’s back, he helped him sit up and put the muzzle on his face. Andrew sobbed through pain and embarrassment, but he did not struggle or fight back. He allowed the man to buckle the leather behind his head, a little tighter than usual, and his sobs and cries were cut off as the bit sat tightly in his mouth once more. 

“Come on now, don’t cry. You want to be good for later tonight. The doctors have a new drug they want to try, and you better be the perfect patient.”

[faecaptainofdreams]

"When I woke up that morning, I felt good, like REALLY good. My vision felt super sharp, I woke up really easily, I just felt good. But when I went to the bathroom and tried to get ready for school, I kept accidentally breaking things. First, I kid you not, I accidentally broke the cabinet mirror off the frame. I panicked when that happened, and then my hand was stuck to it for a minute! I was like, 'what is going on?!?!' So then I reached for the doorknob and it broke off. That was when I suddenly remembered what had happened the day before... My bite didn't hurt anymore, and I had these patterns. I had to think up some stupid excuse about where they came from, so I went with henna tattoos. I even bought a kit for it later just to make it that much more convincing. So yeah, um, explaining that both the mirror and the doorknob broke at the same time when I was trying to brush my teeth was funny. But like, Ben and May's first thoughts obviously weren't gonna be 'Oh huh, maybe our nephew has super powers all of a sudden.' " You know what I mean? Hah hah! Yeah, so they just thought it was...pfft...a -- a whacky coincidence. After I destroyed the bathroom -- hah -- I went back to my room and kinda started panicking? Sometimes when I walked, my feet would catch on the floor, 'cos of the hairs. And I could hear everything. It wasn't like everything I heard was hurting my ears, I was just hearing a LOT. The fabric of my shirt against my skin, the tiniest rustles, and at one point May, I think, walked by my bedroom and I could feel her footsteps. It just felt like I was tingling all over with all this...uh...sensory input, it was dreadful. I could've probably heard a bird fart outside my window, okay, not gonna lie. Well in that time, I totally forgot that I had to go to school. So Ben knocks on the door -- which scares the shit out of me -- and is like 'Peter, you ready? Are you gonna eat?' And I was like, CRAP! So I had to fight with my clothes a little but I threw on a random outfit, ran a comb through my hair and skipped breakfast, and didn't have my teeth brushed on account of breaking the bathroom. I mean I was hungry, but that wasn't really my priority. I barely even ate at lunch, I just couldn't stomach it. When I came out of my room, Ben was like, 'You don't look so good, bud,' so I told him I thought I actually slept too much, because I had gone to bed at like eight the night before. Said I just didn't have my head in the game. When we got in the car... Oh, my god. Every little noise, every -- every little...THING, it was just, like... I mean it felt like I'd never ridden in a car before. The buckle startled me, the windows being adjusted startled me, and I could still feel and hear all my clothing shifting on my person, and feel all these little vibrations. When we shut our doors I about wet myself, it was -- it sucked, okay, hah hah! For one thing, I'm shocked I didn't break the door, but... Again, though, nothing was hurting me; it was just SO much to take in. I could only guess that this was what it felt like to be hungover without the headache, dizziness and nausea. Basically, in my vicinity, if it could be heard or felt, I heard and felt it. On the way to school I was... Oh -- it was SO messed up. Ben was trying to talk to me and I had to force myself to pay attention. All the colors of everything seemed a tiny bit enhanced, and again my vision, it was just SO crisp. So I'm looking at all these cars and people, hearing way too many peoples' music jamming, Ben had the radio on kinda low, and holy -- when we were in idle, WOW. I could feel that vibration all over my body. Vibrations can get really painful for me after a bit, but in the car I was just sort of irritated. I started having major anxiety about school, because I knew that was going to be a sensory overload. I was right. Paper rustling, feet scuffing, the talking, ALL the vibrations of people walking. And like, at one point during the day, there was a spider somewhere, and the freaky thing was I knew it. I could feel it, it was weird. It was impossible to concentrate, then Ned was trying to hang out with me and I was just like '...!!!' UHH!! Hah hah! He was like 'Dude, are you okay?' And I was like 'Yeah, I slept bad, had some messed up dreams,' and then tried to make myself focus. I really thought about telling him, I really wanted someone to know because I was so scared. I started wondering if I was slowly transforming into a spider, or if I was going to get sick or die or if this was actually just it. Couldn't tell if I'd mutated or was still mutating, it was scary. So you have all this sensory input, school work, and trying to keep it a secret. Honestly, I'm not sure why I felt the need to hide it? It would've been different if I was fighting crime, but I wasn't. I was just a kid that got bit by some spider because the scientists at the tech center were really negligent, apparently. But yeah, I was really scared. In English class, we were studying and everyone was kinda whispering to each other. So the teacher comes up to me and he's like, 'Pst, Peter. You okay?' And I was all nervous but was like 'Yeah, why...?' He goes, 'You look like you need to throw up...out of both ends.' HAH hah hah! I just looked around because I could hear him SO clearly, I thought surely EVERYONE else in the room could hear him. They didn't, though, so I just told him I slept bad. He asked if I needed to go to the nurse, I said 'no.' He kinda lingered there for a minute, I think he thought I was on drugs or something, but he finally left me alone. It was a few days before I realized my sticky hands and feet meant I could literally climb anything. So I did that in my room. I started spending more time in my room, because I was trying to figure out what all I could do and stuff. Ben and May were like, 'Why are you always in your room all the time?' And I told them I just needed some alone time, or I just needed to de-stress from school. Which was true, I mean besides Flash traumatizing me on a daily basis, the sensory input was just...too much. I needed to just be somewhere quiet. Well when I told Ben this, he just smiled and was like 'Ohhh, I getcha. Just remember to lock the door,' and I was just like... Ben... No... I couldn't figure out why I had the markings on my wrists, but then I started getting these urges to make -- you know, my little...rock and roll-looking sign that I do? So I did that, and a frickin' web shot out! So I had this big web thread in my room and had to tear it down, and I was just in there freaking out like HUH?! And that was how that started. Then came the reflexes, the spidey-sense, all these crazy little things, weird urges that I had to not react to, like how I clean my face and stuff. I had to re-learn how to deal with my environment. I got used to it after a couple weeks, and something that really helped me -- and still helps me now, is just focusing on one little thing. I can tune out a LOT of stuff most of the time, which is good. When I started getting the hang of it was when Ben died. I felt awful, like you know, because I thought I should've stopped it from happening -- and I still feel that way. But what was really hard also was the fact that...he never knew, and I never got to tell him about my powers. I wanted to tell everyone, but like I said, for some reason I just...didn't. And then when Ben died, I was sad, because I thought it would've been nice to tell him before that happened. But looking back, I also feel like maybe if I had told him, then I'd be miserable because the one person I told died, and it, that... It's like a damned if you do, damned if you don't sort of thing. There was really no winning with that. So when he died, I felt really guilty about him having not known about the powers, so every day I'd say to myself 'I have to tell someone, I have to tell someone,' but I knew Ned couldn't keep it a secret and May was having a hard time with Ben, and I didn't wanna stress her out. Then I thought about the mutant school, Xavier's school, and thought about how my life might change and how I didn't want that. Then I started fighting crime, and it was like... Well I can't tell anyone now, because it wouldn't be safe for May or Ned, or anyone who got close to me. And yeah, all this going on on top of puberty? Fun stuff! Loved that. It was...it was a tough year. But I figured it out, it's good now. Everything's good, finally. I feel good. I'm really happy, I feel really...blessed, I guess? It's good, I love my life now, hah." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------ (having Autism totally be like ^) XD Like the sensory thing but actually agonizing.

[breakingsomething]

to remember

basic summary: marvin's spiraling.

trigger warnings: mentions of abuse and self harm, flashback to a suicide attempt, much talk of medications, violent thoughts, themes of memory loss, extreme distress

it started with little things.

first he'd forget where he left stuff, like his phone or his cup of tea. that was just normal. but then he'd forget having ownership of certain items altogether. chase had once gotten mad at marvin for leaving a full mug next to his laptop, and it had taken five minutes for marvin to remember he'd made the drink in the first place.

as the weeks went by, thing continued to slip his mind. just small things. street names, words he should know, inside jokes from a while ago. he'd stumble before saying the name of an old friend, hesitate before mentioning that so and so had blonde hair because hadn't they dyed it, or had that been year ago? which of chase's kids liked sonic the hedgehog again? oh, chase kids were missing and he shouldn't bring them up? yeah. he'd forgotten that too.

then it was his medication. he'd been prescribed small tablets of paroxetine to take every day, which he'd done at the beginning. then he'd get so caught up with other things that it'd only be every few days that he'd remember the meds and a jolt of realization would hit him that he hadn't taken them in ages. but it was fine. he'd set a reminder on his phone! which worked for a while, until he'd read the notification and swipe it away with the intention to get up right away, but then get distracted, or even if he didn't get rid of it it would just get buried in his notifications bar and he wouldn't think twice. but it was fine! he was just a bit forgetful. silly billy marvin. so what if he sometimes forgot what his girlfriend looked like or when henrik's birthday was? that was normal, silly stuff. he was just fine.

"marvin, how long has it been since you've eaten?"

oh, someone was talking to him! he startled at the sound, whipping round in the kitchen doorway to face whoever it was and breathing a sigh of relief as he recognized him. jackie. his sweet big brother jackie, big brother who helped him keep his head on straight and comforted him through nightmares of events that marvin wasn't sure had really happened. how much of reality was he making up anymore? he wasn't sure.

"i just ate this morning," marvin said certainly, flashing the hero a smile. "what about you? i haven't seen you eat recently at all."

jackie crossed his arms, narrowing his dark eyes underneath his glasses. "me, chase and henrik ate breakfast together this morning. we had toast and wheetabix with bananas cause chase is on another health kick. where were you?"

marvin's confident grin slipped. "i - i had toast too," he said, trying to keep his voice steady so as not to reveal his uncertainties. "this morning. you guys must have - left."

marvin's heart was racing as he racked his brain. he had eaten, hadn't he? oh, oh, he didn't know. jackie's disapproving gaze was burning into him, making him feel smaller and smaller, like a child on the receiving end of a lecture.

"you can't skip meals, marvin," jackie sighed. he tilted his head and slowly reached his hand up to marvin's face, touching his forehead. even with the warning, marvin flinched. "are you feeling alright? apparently a lack of hunger or a feeling of sickness are side effects of the new medication, so -"

"shut up, jackie!" marvin hissed, face flushing. jackie raised an eyebrow at marvin's response, and the magician unconsciously flinched again. fuck, what was wrong with him lately? he knew jackie wasn't going to hurt him.

"there's no need to be embarrassed about medication," jackie said coolly. "i take paxil for my anxiety. it's nothing to be ashamed about."

"i know," marvin mumbled. he rubbed his skin comfortingly beneath his hoodie, wincing at the feeling of the scars all up his arm. self inflicted. couldn't blame anti for that. "it's not - i don't know. i'm new to all this. the whole - the whole…"

"mental illness thing?" jackie said with only a small hint of amusement in his voice. marvin snorted. the situation wasn't funny at all, so they had to make it that way themselves for it to be survivable.

he hummed, not looking jackie in the eye. another thing he was struggling with lately. he had always been good with things like that, something he excelled in that jackie did not. something else that had been taken from him. "i don't know. my head feels a bit weird all the time, but i don't think i'm sick. i should be ok, but, uh, thank you for the concern."

jackie kicked at a broken panel of wood on the floor, still not moving out of marvin's way. "speaking of medication," he said, and marvin's heart sank. "have you been taking them?"

"yes, jackie," marvin lied, swallowing hard, clenching and unclenching his fists. he couldn't stay still, why couldn't he stay still? his legs were shaking. "taken them every day."

"you're lying," jackie said flatly. marvin breathed in sharply at the undertone of disappointment in his voice, and just managed to look up at his face, cringing at how tired jackie looked. he rubbed at the bridge of his nose, pushing up his glasses. "henrik says you would have needed a refill by now if you had been taking them regularly. but you've barely touched the second packet."

marvin shook his head, breaths quickening. "i - yes i have. i finished the whole box." he'd dump them somewhere when he got a chance alone.

jackie sighed, shaking his head. "stop it, marvin. i looked in your room yesterday. the box was on your desk."

marvin gave a strangled cry. "you - you were in my fucking room? when i wasn't there?" god, he sounded like a child. but jackie knew that things were different after anti. marvin needed his space. he glared at his brother angrily, mouth hanging open with words he couldn't get out. "you fucking asshole, i thought you were going to respect my fucking privacy?"

jackie grimaced, scratching the back of his neck. "we're - we're worried for you, and -"

marvin didn't even say another word. he just shoved past his brother and stormed upstairs, slamming the door behind him.

sometimes he didn't remember his brother's names. that was just something that happened sometimes though, right? sometimes he forgot his street name. that was just a funny little mishap though, wasn't it? sometime he woke up and didn't know where he was and cried himself softly through his panic attack, curled up in the middle of his bed, too afraid to move in case someone came to hurt him, until he passed out from the headache that all the tears ended up giving him. that was normal though, wasn't it? just a silly little one time thing. it didn't mean anything. it could happen to anyone.

and then it happened again. and again. and again.

he awoke from nightmares he didn't remember. he thought about names that meant nothing to him, mouthing the words "dapper" and "naomi" and "jack" to himself. he held knives and thought about stabbing himself in the chest with them just to see what would happen. he shut himself in his wardrobe, shaking so hard he couldn't breath, feeling something hot drooling onto his neck.

the others began to properly notice the day marvin got lost.

he was just going to the corner shop. he bought a bottle of milk, a loaf of bread and a small packet of gum. he left the shop and was instantly hit with a dizzying wave of vertigo, like he was standing on top of a building. he didn't know where he was. he didn't know.

it was fine. there were three streets that branched off of this one, he was bound to belong on one of them. eeny, meeny, miney, mo, and he set off down the street to the left, which went down a small hill. that street then branched off into two other streets, and a long flight of stairs. marvin stared at them, head spinning.

he was suddenly so fucking scared.

he set off down the street to the left again. this one was sloping even further down a hill, tall, pretty looking houses with trimmed gardens and shiny cars parked neatly outside. marvin didn't live in a house, did he? he was certain he lived in a flat. there were flats somewhere in the distance, he could see. he set off towards them purposely, milk carton smacking against his thighs painfully.

it was so quiet. marvin felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, his chest tightening painfully. he wasn't supposed to be here. he wasn't supposed to be here. someone was going to stop him and tell him to turn around and he was lost, he was scared, and -

and the road ahead branched off into three separate roads, all of which were lined by blocks of identical flats.

he wasn't going to cry. he wasn't. he set off straight ahead, down a hill, frantically looking at the buildings around him. it was early spring, and some families were out in the gardens, playing in sprinklers and having barbecues. marvin was too hot in his long hoodie, sleeves covering the ugly scars on his arms. he couldn't breathe. he couldn't remember. nothing was familiar and the world was upside down and he was fucking terrified, was this a prank? was this a prank for his brother's youtube channel - which brother had a youtube channel, why couldn't he remember, he was scared, oh, he was scared!

eventually he collapsed in an empty bus stop, just across from a construction site surrounded by a red fence. he remembered that. there was a field behind it, and there was an abandoned waterworks, and a farm with lots of cows. he rapped his knuckles on his thighs, trying to ground himself. what else could he remember? he knew his own name. marvin mcloughlin, that was him. he tipped his head back and let out a shaky sob, stomach churning. nothing was right. he was too hot and the milk had gone warm and his palm was sweaty from holding the bread.

he sat there for an hour, numbly watching the sun go down. his head hurt from crying. he was too hot and tired and scared and he felt like a fucking child. marvin sat up, scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve, scratching his sensitive skin. his mind felt like soup.

my name is marvin mcloughlin. i'm twenty nine years old. i have been on this planet for three years. i'm bisexual. i have three brothers. i have a girlfriend named naomi gudmundson. i used to be part of an organization called hecate's international network of magic.

-

it was night before his mind returned to him.

he fucking sobbed when it did, immediately scrambling to his feet and racing in the direction his mind was telling him to go before he forgot it. the milk and bread bashed his sides as he ran, and he definitely looked like a goddamn idiot, crying and darting through the streets with his shopping in hand. by the time he got to a street he recognized, a street he remembered, he was full blown sobbing, so hard it was difficult to catch a breath. and oh, when he saw chase sitting at the window on his ds, marvin could have cried out in relief. his little brother must have sensed him coming and turned to look at him, grinning, but his face fell as soon as he saw what state marvin was in. he leapt down from the window and disappeared, and marvin fell against the front door, not caring anymore if anyone saw him. he was scared, he was just so scared, he was just so, so scared.

as soon as the lock clicked and the door swung open, marvin threw himself into chase's arms, dropping the warm milk and crushed bread to the floor. "chase, chase, chase, chase!" he gasped, heart racing as his legs gave out, feeling like jelly. "oh my god, chase, chase..."

"what happened?" chase cried, clearly alarmed. he ran his hands across marvin's back soothingly, knowing not to touch his hair in case he set him off further. "did someone hurt you? do you need henrik? marvin, talk to me."

he couldn't talk. he was so overwhelmed, so fucking terrified out of his mind that he couldn't manage words, he just couldn't. all he could do was dry heave, coughing into his arm but still trying to cling to his brother because if he didn't he would disappear and marvin would be alone again and he couldn't be alone again he couldn't anti would get him anti would hurt him and dapper again and he'd punish him because kitten had disobeyed the rules and cut off his hair and anti would make him go into the spare room by himself again without anyone to touch him or talk to him fuck fuck fuck he was so scared!!!

he slept in jackie's bed that night. he couldn't speak, too overwhelmed, too afraid he'd be punished. he curled into a ball and hugged himself, confused and delirious, too shocked to speak. anti in his head. anti in his bed. dapper, anti, kitten, which name was his again? none of them sounded right.

everything came crashing down on him the next morning when he woke.

oh, oh, oh, had that all really happened? had he really gotten lost going to the corner shop, had he really had an hour long panic attack in broad daylight while clutching a bottle of milk and a bag of bread? a slapping wave of humiliation washed over him, and he shuddered, sitting right up in bed. was that real, had he made it up? he groaned softly, clutching his head. let it have been a nightmare, please, please.

he knew it hadn't been when jackie woke up and immediately started badgering him.

"who hurt you?" were his first words. "who upset you? what happened, why were you gone so long, tell me!"

"no one hurt me," marvin croaked. he hadn't spoken in hours, and his voice was hoarse. he curled tightly into himself, gently gracing his fingers across the skin of his neck to soothe himself. "just my own head. just my own head, jackie, jackie, jackie."

the conversation went by in a blur. marvin couldn't remember it.

my name is marvin mcloughlin. i'm twenty nine years old. i have been on this planet for three years. i'm bisexual. i have four brothers. i have a girlfriend named naomi. i used to be part of an organization called hecate's network of magic.

-

he didn't care what his brothers thought anyway. he was fine. it was just a silly memory lapse. ptsd? henrik, you're being ridiculous. jackie, don't agree with him! is anyone here on my side? chase? well, fuck you guys, i don't need you! no more doctors, no more doctors, i don't need you!

naomi was there for him. naomi, his best friend, his girlfriend, girlfriend, there was a change! he'd never loved that word more than now. he'd never loved her more than now. she was wonderful. she didn't treat him like he was fragile. he loved her.

"so how've you been?" she asked one morning when he was round at her shop, nai's blomma magi, yet again. he was there often, especially as of late. he didn't want to be around his brothers. all they did was talk in hushed voices and look away when he entered a room and speak to him gently like he was a bratty child. naomi didn't. naomi looked at him like he was her best friends and she loved him. he was so grateful for her. he thought she was the string holding him to the earth to stop him flying away.

"i've been good," he said cheerfully, swinging his legs on the counter where he was perched. naomi leapt up next to him, blowing upwards to push her caramel hair from her face. marvin wasn't used to it being so short. he thought it looked pretty. he stretched out a hand to run through it as he spoke, because they were dating and he could do that now, though he kept his eyes trained on naomi's despite how hard it was for him just in case she showed any signs of not liking what he was doing. "been busy. lots to do these days you know." he shot her some finger guns. "vibing."

she chuckled, rolling her eyes and shifting closer to him, knocking their legs together. "oh, the usual then," she joked, returning the finger guns. ""it be like that sometimes" and all that? are those the vibes, pye?"

he snorted, elbowing her side. "i am begging you to stop trying to use teen lingo. or - is lingo a word people use anymore? god, i don't fucking know. my point is please, please stop this madness."

she took his face in hand and titled it towards her, booping her nose against his. "ah, but you love me and my attempts at speaking like i am generation z," she laughed. "don't deny."

he knocked his forehead to hers, realizing how unprofessional they would look to anyone who might come inside. but honestly, he didn't care. he had no dignity left to lose. "i do love you," he murmured, before gently pressing his lips to hers, fingers brushing her warm cheeks. he couldn't stop himself from grinning ridiculously, giggling slightly as he pulled away. "ah, naomi, i'm bad at this."

"i'm no better," she admitted. her dark eyes flickered from marvin's lips to his eyes, making him automatically glance down at their entwined hands despite wanting to continue looking at her face. "i haven't had a relationship in years. what do we do? i mean, i won't lie, i enjoy what we're doing now. just this."

he kissed her again, just wanting to be close to her, not wanting to think. "naomi, naomi," he said softly against her lips, like a chant, like he was an actor memorizing his lines. "love you, naomi, naomi."

"that's my name," she whispered, her breath warm on his face. her fingers traced the scar on marvin's lip, the one anti had given him that day he tried to run away and he had made dapper slash his face with his knife as punishment. "you have a pretty name too, marvin. i should say it more often. marvin, marvin, marvin."

he felt light as a feather all of a sudden, like the air had been let out of him with just one stab of a knife to the face. marvin, marvin. forbidden. he didn't know that name.

he pulled away. stared into those chocolate eyes, his vision blurring as his exhaustion began to catch up to him. marvin, marvin, marvin, he didn't know a marvin.

"i don't understand," he mumbled.

the woman frowned, eyebrows furrowing. "what's wrong? pye, are you ok? you've gone very pale."

his fingers had gone very numb. he clumsily pushed himself off the counter, head swimming dizzily, his body moving sluggishly like he was wading through honey. "i'm not meant to be here," he slurred, tongue too big in his dry mouth. "i can't - i don't understand."

anti, anti, there was a name he knew. where did he go, kitten didn't know where he was or what he was doing - pye? pye wasn't his name. he didn't know what was. anti would know.

"marvin," his girlfriend was saying, naomi something, naomi gudmundson, his best friend. "marvin, hey, calm down, it's - uh, it's ok, i'm here. i - do you have your phone? i'm going to call jackie."

her voice was so lovely. marvin remembered days spent hypnotized out his mind, so desperately trying to remember the girl who called him names he wasn't allowed to know in his dreams, the two of them performing magic together. kitten wasn't allowed to perform magic anymore. his hands burned, and he clutched them tightly to his chest, tears forming in his eyes.

his phone had fallen out his pocket. "password, marvin," she asked, but he didn't know. he was suddenly so deep in his own head that he didn't know where or who he was. he was dimly aware of someone taking his hand and pressing one of his fingers to a sensor, of words being spoken, of a man with anti's face arriving and walking him home, of babbling tearfully about monsters and names and memories and girls in his dreams and twins who spoke with hands and charcoal and chocolate eyes and knives slitting his face and ropes and chains and predictive dreams and a man who held him tightly, crying, whispering "marvin, it's ok, it's ok, it's ok."

my name is marvin. i'm twenty something years old. i have been on this planet for three years. i'm bisexual. i have five brothers. i have a girlfriend. i used to be part of an organization called hecate.

-

they took him to a doctor.

jackie went with him. he was the only one marvin trusted, the one who's reddish hair and dark blue eyes and splattering of freckles across scarred cheeks was most comforting, warm, safe. the doctor's name was - something. she was kind, dark hair and glittering black eyes. she asked him questions. "have you been in any accidents recently?" she started in a tinny american accent. like chase. chase had an american accent.

jackie answered for him. "he's recently had a bad concussion, fell down the stairs and hit his head. that's the main thing we can think of."

that wasn't true. and yes, jackie and henrik had argued about lying. "they could incorrectly diagnose him, and then he could be put on the wrong medications, he's already on antidepressants and we can't risk something making his condition any worse!" henrik had cried. "this won't work!"

"then what do we say - "our brother deeply hypnotized him and locked away a ton of his memories, gaslighting him so badly he didn't remember his own name for like three days?" no!" jackie had hurled back. "a concussion is something more easy to explain. i can fake hospital records, aaron can help me if i need it, and -"

"we can't fake this!" henrik despaired. "this is a genuine problem, this is his life, we can't just fake hospital records and hope they magically come up with the correct diagnosis based on the lies you tell them -"

"this isn't your thing, hen, this is marvin and i am doing what's best for him -"

marvin had been sitting at the top of the stairs listening to them fight. he rubbed his burning hands together, wincing at the pain of the contact. how long had it been since he'd been able to use his magic? months. but he couldn't use it. he'd get in trouble. it wouldn't be ok, though. anti would let him use his magic before he exploded.

chase came to sit next to him. "i'm sorry," he said softly. "this is - shitty, i know."

everyone was always sorry. marvin shoved his hands between his knees and didn't respond until chase got the point and walked away again.

eventually, they had just gone with the concussion story.

the doctor turned back to him, smiling reassuringly. marvin fucking hated her. "does anyone in your family have a history of alcohol or drug misuse?" she asked.

chase, marvin dimly thought. then she realized he didn't mean that. "don't have parents," he said hollowly. "all i have is -"

"- is us," jackie interrupted, shooting marvin a look. "our parents are dead. there was no history of any of that, no. not that i'm aware of."

she glanced at her computer, ponytail swinging as she turned in her chair. "i see you're currently taking paroxetine, two 10mg tablets per day?" she asked, and marvin nodded. "have you had a history of mental health issues before this?"

"recently got diagnosed with depression," marvin mumbled, looking at his purple boots.

"have you ever self harmed or made a suicide attempt?"

"what does this have to do with memory loss?" jackie suddenly snapped, squeezing his brother's hand. marvin smiled, but shook his head at him, clearing his throat.

"it's ok, jackie," he said softly, and turned to the doctor again. "uh...yes to both."

"ok, ok." she was silent for a moment as she typed. "i don't see a log here for… any time recently. when did you make said attempt?"

a knife that anti hadn't taken back. he was out, gone away doing whatever he did, and marvin was in the bathroom, blade pressed to his wrist. it could all be over. dapper, brother, don't rewind, i want this to be permanent.

marvin turned to jackie, panicked. the older man immediately spoke up, leg bouncing rapidly. "i - last year, around july. he - there should be records, uh, i can see…"

jackie's boyfriend was going to be busy with these fake records, marvin thought, amused. records for a concussion, records for a suicide attempt - marvin hadn't yet met aaron, the man who had swept jackie off his feet while he was away, but he got the feeling the poor bastard was going to think he was a total nutjob.

no, that wasn't a nice word. naomi wouldn't like him using that word. a pang of guilt went through him; he'd left naomi for a full year with no explanation, kissed her a few times, freaked the fuck out and dipped. maybe she'd think he was insane too. no, no, bad word. he shouldn't be thinking such things about himself. naomi would never think that.

the doctor asked him a few memory related questions: what he'd had for breakfast, what his parents names were ("jack and… donna," he'd said), his address, ect ect. then he did something called a "mental state examination" that honestly felt like a test at school. he did a quick physical exam. then they'd asked to draw his blood.

that had been an immediate no from marvin.

"you - you can't do that," he stammered, pulling his hands inside his sleeves and wrapping them around himself. just the thought of someone coming near him with a sharp object sent him into an immediate sweat, his fight or flight instincts kicking in. "i - i don't like - i can't do that."

the doctor sighed. "we have to test for certain things, such as vitamin b-12 deficiency and thyroid disease," she said, like she was reciting from memory. "although given all i've heard, i think we may be able to diagnose you, but we have to make sure. we'll likely still have to do an mri to make sure."

"i can't do the blood, i can't do the blood," marvin chanted. he was shaking so ridiculously hard. when did he get this pathetic, this weak? "i - i'm sorry, i'm sorry, can't have sharp objects, jackie, jackie, jackie -"

jackie took his both his hands, glancing at the doctor helplessly. "he - he gets scared around sharp objects," he said apologetically. "marvin, hey, it's ok. no blood today, no blood."

"we'll have to reschedule if we can't do this today," she sighed again. marvin was getting sick of her doing that. "can we do tomorrow at… right before ten? maybe five two? that's when the trucks come to take away samples, and results would be quicker if we could get it done sooner."

jackie hesitated. "marvin?"

marvin couldn't breath. couldn't breath. "no, no, no, i didn't do anything wrong," he sobbed, flapping his hands in a circle with his eyes screwed up tight. "don't hurt me, i didn't mean it, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, leave me alone -"

he thought he blacked out. memories were fuzzy. days passed, maybe. maybe he got his blood drawn somehow. he didn't fucking know. time meant nothing anymore.

my name isn't mine. i'm too old. i have been on this planet for so long. i'm real, maybe. i have a lot of brothers. i have people who i think love me. i used to be somebody.

-

they diagnosed him with ptsd and memory loss. then he got started on donepezil as well as his paroxetine. two medications for two of the many things that were wrong with him.

he visited naomi and told her the truth.

"i lied to you," he said. he stood in front of the counter like a customer, eyes dry and voice flat. "i wasn't staying with a friend last year. i told you that because the truth is fucking awful and i didn't want to burden you with that."

naomi looked unsurprised, but concerned. she frowned, raising her hand like she was going to touch him, but held back. "marvin," she said softly, and the name grounded him. "you can tell me anything."

she shut shop for the day and he told her.

they were both crying by the end of it. it was a lot, to be fair; marvin had years of trauma to unload, though most of it had happened within the last year and a bit. he almost expected her to kick him out - he was damaged goods, too fucked in the head to even function without constantly being doped up on meds. but she never did. instead, she pulled him in for a proper hug, kissing the side of his head and gently rubbing his back. "marvin mcloughlin," she said, naomi said. "i can't even put into words how fucking sorry i am that all that happened to you, i - my fucking shit, that's so horrible."

marvin had been so unbelievably touch starved for so long that for a moment all he could do was linger in her arms, stunned, eyes so full of unfallen tears that he couldn't see. "please don't let go," he choked out, and he was still scared, but he knew her, had known her for a long time, and trusted her with his life. he somehow always had. maybe he'd fallen in love with her the moment they'd met. "you don't hate me. you don't hate me?"

he heard her snort, shocked. "you think i would - hate you for what?" she almost laughed, her short hair brushing marvin's forehead and getting caught in his barrettes. "marvin, you are more than just my boyfriend. you're my goddamn best friend and i love you more than i ever have loved anyone, and that is - väldigt läskigt, i am forgetting english. but i would never, ever hate you. well, do you - do you want the truth?"

he nodded into his shoulder, the movement making the tears overflow and spill down naomi's back. he quickly scrubbed at his face, embarrassed, but naomi hardly seemed to notice. she buried her face into marvin's neck, her voice slightly muffled as she spoke her next words.

"i was so lost when you left," she murmured. "i had made you my anchor. i blamed myself for you leaving; blamed my bpd, blamed all the depressive states you'd seen me go through, blamed all the mania you'd had to talk me out of. but you know what? i got a therapist and i learned i couldn't blame myself for the actions of others and i continued to love you every second you were gone. i knew you'd be back. i did. i never doubted you and i loved you, so so much, and with the help of my therapist i think i figured it all out."

she sat up, knocking her nose against marvin's. "you are a person and not an anchor. not a - a puppet or a magician for your brother to use. you are a person and so am i and this makes no sense, i don't even know if i'm speaking english but i do know i have always loved you and always will and i'm so glad you're alive."

and it was those words that finally broke marvin. he let out a noise that was almost a wail of despair, shoulders shaking as his chest heaved against naomi's body. she was crying too, he could hear her. so for a long while they just held each other through the pain, and eventually marvin wasn't sad or mourning, he was just hugging his best friend. just comfortable, just warm, just happy. just in love. just alive.

he would be ok.

and as he kissed her once more, this time certain of who he was, where he was, what he was, this time certain he knew he was ok; as he did that, he remembered himself one more time.

my name is marvin mcloughlin. i'm not dead and i'm not going to let myself hurt anymore and anti can suck it if he thinks i'm going to fall to his whims anymore. my name is marvin mcloughlin and i love my family and my friends and myself. my name is marvin mcloughlin and that glitch bitch better hide as well as he can, because a storm is coming and i'm going to be in the eye of it.

[scullyeffect]

ok at this point even though i’m getting tested on tuesday, i’m just cautiously self-diagnosing myself with a mild case of covid-19. this thing is like labour. if you’re experiencing it, you’ll know. i am not a person who gets sick for more than a couple days, and usually i can work through it. my country has been out of quarantine and i’ve been back at work (with kids) for about 3.5 weeks. i woke up this morning (day 6) and the thought of having to get out of bed and walk to the bathroom was so daunting that i promised myself i’d get breakfast while i was on my feet because i’d need to rest afterward. 

what i will say is that the last time i was truly ill was in 2018 when i got a sore throat and lost my voice for about a week. on a scale of 1-10 so far i’d rate what i’m experiencing as a 5, but the fatigue level gets at least a 7.5. i’ve never been this tired, and i’m doing practically nothing but sleeping. 

rundown of symptoms: (keeping in mind that even though this thing is respiratory, not everyone develops those symptoms. a lot of what we’re reading about are scary, hospital-worthy cases)

evening day 1: tiredness, slept 12 hours, didn’t suspect anything was wrong

day 2: around 6pm i got a headache in centre of forehead, felt feverish (but no thermometer), took paracetamol 500, intense fatigue, went to bed at 9:30 and slept 15 hours

day 3: woke up with SLIGHTLY tickly throat and dry cough (but not painful, very infrequent, and only to try and clear my phlegmy throat), very tired, in evening i had severe chest pains while walking (that made me actually take a taxi home instead of continuing to walk 20 minutes) that lasted a few hours and disappeared after i rested (these might have had something to do with anxiety since i was starting to suspect i was ill), definitely feverish in the evening but not as bad as day 1, took paracetamol, slept 8 hours. at this point i also notified everyone i’d seen in the past week (9 people, luckily 5 of them children) that i was showing symptoms.

day 4: woke up exhausted, had breakfast and felt better, walked to the doctor and had a fever of 37.8 (100 f) and got a prescription to take the PCR test, felt woozy walking back home, took paracetamol. cough VERY rare. by 6pm i was exhausted and took a shower thinking i’d need to work the next day, fell asleep around 7pm till 11:30pm, woke up cold but sweaty (though it’s very warm outside and i slept with the window open under a duvet wearing socks), had a temp of 39 (102), took paracetamol and fell asleep. slept 11 hours.

day 5: woke up cold again even though i’d worn a t-shirt, long sleeved shirt, leggings, and socks to bed. achy especially in legs (around knees), and lower back, and later in the day i was achy all over. so tired i barely got out of bed. scheduled covid-19 PCR test. fell asleep at 5pm thinking i’d just doze, woke up at 9:30pm feeling hot and just...gross. temp of 38 (100.5). phlegmy throat was back, along with dry cough, but it didn’t hurt. it was more just frustrating because i couldn’t clear my throat. eating dinner was like...i was so tired i didn’t feel like bringing my fork up to my mouth. and all i ate for dinner was a can of corn. fell back to sleep around 3am because i couldn’t get comfortable. slept 10 hours.

day 6 (today/ still morning): woke up exhausted and extremely achy. had a shot-glass of carrot juice which tasted about half as strong as usual, and a plain yogurt. i guess i only have the sensation of “tasting” if i smell what i’m eating. dry cough back but still not painful, still not breathless, temp only 37.5 (99.5). my eyes are also a little scratchy but maybe i’m just STILL tired lol. 

i’m okay and i’m not going to die and i’m doing everything right (hydrating, resting, trying to remember to eat although i can’t manage much, taking paracetamol, keeping track of symptoms and temp). the thing is the symptoms change. there are times when you think you feel fine, and then suddenly you’ll get hit with the need to sleep and you’ll end up taking a 5 hour nap and STILL waking up tired. so don’t worry too much! i’ll keep updating you but i think it’s important to share that even if this is just a bad case of the flu, it can look a lot like what we’re seeing, so don’t dismiss it. the major clue i had was that flu symptoms generally come on quickly, whereas mine come and go and some only get worse, whereas others (like fever) seem to get better especially during the day. 

[thedukedudeinadress]

Godparents- Chapter 3!

Ships: Prinxity/Logicality

Warnings: Swearing.

Chapter 3: Babysitting & announcements.

———————————————————————

Patton had just left & Thomas had ran in to play with some legos as Decie woke up & started screaming.

“I’ll take care of him” Virgil said & was just gonna go upstairs but stopped at the second step “Tell Thomas to play in the kitchen so you can keep an eye on him while you make the food”

“Okay, what do you want, Virge?”

“Whatever, just not lasagna again” Virgil said, kissed Roman on the forehead & went upstairs.

“Okay! Thomas, come play in the kitchen instead! If you want to you could even help me cook!” Roman said as he went into the kitchen.

“Okay! Coming!” Thomas quickly collected all his toys & ran into the kitchen only to quickly spread them out around him again.

“So, Thomas! Read anything interesting lately” Roman said jokingly as he took out ingredients and scrambled around in the kitchen.

“Uncle Roman, you know I can’t read properly!” Thomas said & laughed.

“Yeah but you like to read, don’t you? Now come over here & hand me the carrots” Thomas laughed again & ran over to his uncle & climbed up at a stool next to the counter just to help his uncle cook. He loved to cook with Roman & would do it every time he was there.. since like 2 months ago.

“That’s true. But I like this more” Thomas said joyfully as he handed his uncle a carrot.

When Virgil came down the stairs with Decie he saw the 2 of them joyfully working together. Whatever fancy food Roman was making clearly excited Thomas.

“Hi, babe, what are you 2 cooking?” Roman shivered slightly as his boyfriend started talking but then he just smiled to himself.

“It’s a secret, darling! You’re gonna love it tho!” He said as he kept slicing the various different vegetables in front of him.

“Ah! Of course!” Virgil had came closer to look down on the counter which resulted in Decie pulling Roman’s hair. He swirled around to face his boyfriend & baby.

“DECIE! You where god damn lucky I had just put down the knife! I could’ve cut myself!” Virgil laughed mildly before wrapping in his hand in his boyfriends shirt to pull him into a warm kiss & Roman made a satisfied hum.

“Uncle Roman! Can we keep cooking now?” Thomas looked at him with slightly annoyed eyes & Roman laughed.

“Sure, Tho. Virgil, stop interrupting” Virgil laughed, said something teasingly about being ‘unwanted’ which in its turn resulted in Roman kissing him & Decie all over their faces to prove him wrong which made them both laugh a lot & then left with the baby to feed him.

“Sorry, Thomas, let’s get this done, haha”

A while later Roman told Virgil to get into the kitchen & he nearly dropped the baby. His mouth feel open.

“Ho- wh- HUH?!” Virgil put down Decie in the baby chair & looked at the table. Roman laughed slightly before starting to talk.

“I talked with your mom, this is your favourite, right? Her own recipe” Virgil just kept looking at the food. It looked just as when his mom used to do it. He was almost crying as Roman walked over to him & hugged him.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart” Roman whispered & Virgil looked up at his boyfriend with tears in his eyes. He really thought Roman had forgot.

“Yo- You remembered” Virgil’s voice was barely hearable but Roman heard.

“Of course I remembered, stupid. Now let’s eat” Roman said & kissed Virgil on his forehead. “Okay Thomas! Ready to try the food?” He said to Thomas who was playing at the floor.

“Yeah! Let’s eat!” He said & came running up to the table.

After they had eaten Thomas quickly changed into his pyjamas & got into bed. After Roman had read him some Dr. Seuss he went down into the living room & sat down to wait for Virgil to get the baby to sleep. He opened Netflix & chose a disney movie to watch. Around 10 minutes into the movie Virgil came down & laughed slightly at the familiar view.

“Hi, babe” he said softly as he sat down next to his boyfriend & gently played around with his hair. He was basically asleep which was pretty common ever since they had gotten Decie. Roman shivered a little before opening his eyes.

“Oh, hello” his voice was tired but he stretched a little & sat up properly & Virgil chuckled slightly.

“I got something for you” he said & pulled out a box from one of his hoodie’s pockets & handed it to Roman “Open it” he said & Roman did. He brought his hand up in front of his mouth & blinked back tears. In the box there were a simple, rose gold ring with the engraving ‘Sanders’ “Roman, will you marry me?” Roman burst into tears & hugged his boyfriend from under his arms & held his shoulders.

“Yes” he nodded repeatedly as he took a little distance “yes, of course” he said, wiped away his tears & then kissed his boyfriend deeply. Virgil smiled & then he whispered ‘happy anniversary’ & Roman chuckled. Virgil put the ring on Roman’s finger & then kissed him again.

“Come on, Ro, let’s go to bed” Virgil said, stood up & reattached out his hand to help Roman get up.

“Okay, honey” he said & took Virgil’s hand.

Virgil woke up early the next morning, he took a moment to just look at Roman’s sleeping face, smile & relax but that relaxation quickly turned into worry when he realised something & he carefully woke Roman up.

“Roman, Decie haven’t screamed once tonight! What if he’s dead! What if he’s sick! What if he has been kidnapped! What if-“

“Virge!” Roman started & held onto Virgil’s shoulders “He’s fine! He has woken up less lately. It’s a good thing! However, if it would make you feel better we can check on him but if he bites me again I will lose it!”

“Okay, okay! It’s fine” Virgil took a few deep breaths & then got up from the bed & together with Roman he went into the nursery.

“See, he’s fine” Roman said as they entered the room & saw the baby standing, holding onto the bars of his bed with one hand & chewing on the other “Wait! Can he poison himself?!” Virgil laughed at that.

“Hahah, no, babe, he can’t” Virgil said & walked over to Decie & took him into his arms. “Hi there, Dee. Are you hungry? Let’s go make breakfast” He said & took the hand he had had in his mouth so he would stop chewing on it.

They went down to the kitchen to feed Decie & then make breakfast & had just begun making breakfast as someone rang on the doorbell.

“I’ll take it” Roman said & went out in the hall.

“Patton!” He said as he opened the door for a very happy Patton. “I’ll take that overly sunny look on your face that your date went well” Patton chuckled & came in.

“Yeah, it was great! Thanks for not letting me back out” the last couple of words was said slowly & he looked straight at Roman’s left ring finger.

“You’re welcome! Want to stay for breakfast?” Patton was still staring at his hand but mentally shook himself & looked up.

“I have a feeling I’ve missed something so yes” he said in his usual happy tone but Roman could hear something serious in it “Is Thomas awake yet?”

“No, he’s still sleeping. He wanted to help me cook yesterday. He’s so smart! How is he only 3,5?”

“Yeah.. he has a lot of different fusion genes that happens to make him learn faster than most kids.. I’ll go wake him up.” Patton ran upstairs & Roman went back into the kitchen.

“Did he see the ring” Virgil said, still focused on what he was doing & laughed slightly as he talked & Roman chuckled.

“Absolutely, he didn’t even try to be discreet” Roman walked over to Decie who sat in an automatic baby swing & stopped it to lift him up. “He’s gonna wake up Thomas & then join us for breakfast” he said, now walking over to Virgil who was frying the eggs, holding Decie with one arm on his hip.

“Yeah, I heard that” he said & turned his head around to give his fiancé a quick kiss & then turned his head back to focus on what he was doing “I’m kinda scared tho, he hasn’t really had the best experience with marriage so I didn’t tell him abot it &-“

“Virgil, calm down. You know he’ll always support you. Yes, there’s a risk he might question it a little but he won’t go against your judgment nor your decision, okay?”

“Yeah, you’re right I just.. AGH! I should’ve told him I was planning to propose!” He said as he turned off the stove & put the eggs on plates “He doesn’t like when I don’t tell him things that could be.. life changing..” Roman made a deep sigh & went over to the table to put Decie in his chair.

“Look, whatever happens, it’s going to end fine! He might need a little time but he will be fine with it! If not at once.. he’ll come around later”

“Yeah, yeah! You’re right.. oof!” Virgil took a deep breath before walking over to his fiancé to give him a firm kiss before telling him to help set the table.

When Patton & Thomas got downstairs Roman & Virgil was setting the table, both smiling. Virgil got eye contact with Patton which resulted in him quickly looking down & his smile to slightly disappear. Patton didn’t like the tension in the room so he started to talk.

“Well, doesn’t this breakfast look delicious! It sure looks breaktaking!” Roman looked up at him, chuckled & shook his head but Virgil was still just focused on what he was doing.

“Not one of your best ones there, bud” he said as he put down a plate filled with different breads on the table.

“Ah! I tried!” He said before turning his attention to Virgil “Virgil, won’t you even say hi? What did I do now?”

“Hi, Patton” Virgil was still focused on setting the table & didn’t even look up at his brother & Roman chuckled nervously.

“Don’t bother him, he woke up with anxiety”

“Oh, Virge, are you okay?” Patton looked worried as he knew that if his brother woke up with anxiety it would be a bad day for him.

“Yeah, I’m fine” Virgil mumbled as he put the cups on the table & sat down.

“Can we eat now?” Thomas had been seemingly asleep in his fathers arms for the whole conversation & him waking up got them all to settle down. Thomas ate his sandwich quickly & then got down at the floor to run out to the living room to play. Virgil didn’t wanna talk so he stood up & was just gonna go after him as his fiancé grabbed his sweaters arm & got him to sit down again.

“You’re not running away from this, Virge” he whispered.

“Ugh! Fine!” He said & turned his attention towards Patton & took a deep breath “..I proposed to Roman yesterday” Roman’s eyes widened, he was not prepared for it to go that easily. Patton tilted his head & looked at his brother’s anxious facial expression.

“Why would you be so anxious over that? That’s awesome” he wated to sound more excited but choose to speak calmly to calm down his brother. Virgil looked at him & slowly a smile appeared on his face.

“Oh thank god!” Virgil laughed slightly & leaned his head against the side of Romans shoulder.

“Like for real! I wanna know!” Patton said jokingly & walked over to his brother & sat down in the chair next to him. “Virge, don’t think I would ever let my problems get in the way of your happiness” Virgil teared up & hugged his brother.

“Thank you” he whispered.

“No problem, kiddo” Patton said & broke the hug “Now, Roman, I gotta see the ring!” Roman laughed & showed the ring “Ah! Virgil! You won’t even give him the chance to discuss the name?” He said teasingly & Virgil laughed.

“Oh hell no! No way I’m gonna give him the chance to convince me to be named ‘HOPE’!” Virgil said & carefully elbowed Roman in the side but he just laughed.

“Oh, it’s fine! Roman Sanders has a nice ring to it” Roman chuckled & winked at Patton.

“I’m so proud of you, Roman” he said seriously & laid a hand on his shoulder before all 3 of them burst into laughter. Decie made a little sound in his chair where he had comfortably fallen asleep.

“Shh! Not so loud! We’re gonna wake the baby” Roman whispered & they all toned it down. “Imma put him in the stroller & check on Thomas, brb” Roman got up, got Decie & went out into the hall.

“Okay but seriously, Virge. Never, & I mean NEVER be afraid that I would let my problems be in the way of me being happy for you. I don’t know if I’ll ever get married again but that doesn’t mean you can’t. I trust Roman, you’ve been dating for 6 years & he’s clearly good for you. Like remember the mess you were in before you 2 started dating?” Virgil looked at his brother with big eyes & then chuckled slightly.

“Yeah.. oh god, I was a mess! What did Roman ever see in me?” Patton was just gonna say something as Roman interrupted him.

“I saw everything. Most people just saw what you showed them but not me. I saw a sweet, scared person who tried to scare away people so he wouldn’t become more scared himself. I saw the fear of getting better, the fear of keep on living & the fear of someone else finding out. I saw everything I had felt years earlier.. & I knew I couldn’t let you keep up the act because I knew how much it hurt.. & slowly but surely, as we got to know each other.. I fell in love” Roman’s tone was serious & he stood leaned against the doorframe, crossed arms & looking down, trying not to get eye contact with either of them. He had never told Virgil (or Patton for that matter) about the depression he’d had as a kid & telling them both like this was hard for him, scared how they would react but after a moment of silence he closed his eyes & was just gonna leave as Virgil hugged him.

“Never be afraid that my problems.. would get in the way for your happiness” he glanced at his brother who smiled sappily & nodded slightly. “It’s okay for you to have problems too, Ro. Okay?” Roman nodded slightly & Virgil is smiled slightly. “Good” he said, placed a finger under Roman’s chin to bring his face up a little & placed a firm kiss on his lips.

———————————————————————

A/N: DAMN! That ended up being long! Well! I hope you like this chapter because it took days to write! Anyway! Virgil proposed, we got to know a little more about Roman & Decie doesn’t try to bite them all the time anymore!

I’m new to this tag list thingie! Do I have different tag lists for each story? Idk.. help me.

[thewritenerd]

This Life and the Other: NaNoWriMo Day 6

‘Uh yeah I guess.’ ‘Well then you should tell her. If we survive tonight.’ With that she skipped off leaving me to follow behind. Honestly that girl.

I woke up in the sanctuary feeling sick to my stomach. Maybe we could just do the whole “I don’t feel well” trick? Instead of knocking myself out and risking putting myself into a coma. But the nausea was probably due to anxiety about today. Tonight? Living in two time zones at once can be confusing. I ate my breakfast in silence, not that Ezra or Apolo seemed up to talking much. Ezra especially looked an odd shade of green. When we were finished eating we all stood up and headed towards the greenhouse. The greenhouse is the closest thing we have to an outdoor area. It’s a huge dome with a grass field and an athletics track. We only see it once every six months. As we all stood in a row waiting for either Medved or Ovenchi to arrive I leaned closer to Apolo. 

‘You remember what you need to do?’ I asked. He nodded before turning to Ezra, who at this point was shaking uncontrollably. ‘Hey Ez you okay?’ Apolo asked. ‘Hmm? Oh yeah I’m fine.’ He didn’t sound too convincing. I remembered how on our last fitness test he’d barely scraped by. And I’d noticed he seemed to have started moving slower than before these last few months. Sometimes I’d seen him wince in pain whenever he stood up or sat down. I thought about saying something, but before I could figure out what the doors opened and Mr Medved came marching in. ‘Right you lot shut up and look at me!’ he barked. The few of us who’d been talking quickly shut up. Medved walked along the line, staggering a little as he did so. Was that guy ever not drunk? I thought. He ordered us to find space and start performing “warm up” exercises. I’m not an unfit person, skinny and not interested in sports in any way shape or form sure; but not unfit. Still Medved’s warm ups lasted an hour with no break and felt more like a full routine. We were then told to get into five separate groups alphabetically, so group one was anyone with a surname starting with the letters A to E, group two with the letters F to J and so on until group five, U to Z. My anxiety about the plan only increased when I realised that it meant I wouldn’t be able to communicate with Apolo, as his last name was Wasape. My group were sent to the running track first with instructions to just keep running around the track until time was up. While I ran I kept looking at the clock that hung above the entrance watching as 11 am, the time we’d decided to set the plan in motion, ticked closer. When I did look away I noticed Mr Medved was leaning right into Ezra’s face. Slowing a bit as I passed I tried to listen to what he was saying. ‘Well Mr Hart what do you call that?’ Medved asked with a sneer on his face. ‘What do you mean sir?’ ‘You know perfectly well what I mean. Personally, I’d call that pathetic. I mean how hard is it too lift some little weights?’ He leaned closer dropping his voice so I could no longer hear him. Before I could really think about what I was doing I reached into Ezra’s mind just in time to hear Medved whisper, ‘I don’t think we should waste our resources on someone like you.’ With that he leaned back and started looking around. ‘Mr Kelbeck!’ he snapped. I jumped pulling myself out of Ezra’s mind. ‘Did I tell you to stop running!?’ ‘Uh no. Sorry sir!’ I called back before returning to my running. I hadn’t meant to stop moving, I hadn’t even realised I had.

When it was finally eleven I was standing by the weights waiting to be told what to do. Apolo, thank goodness, was standing where we were doing co-ordination tests which involved throwing and catching balls. Exactly where I needed him to be. When Mr Medved came over to give us our instructions I glanced over at Apolo and gave him a small nod, which he returned. Looking away I tried to make it look like I was listening to what Mr Medved was saying. But the whole time I was thinking, don’t duck don’t duck don’t…

I woke up with such a start I nearly fell off the sofa. ‘Glad you could join us,’ Aiden said when he saw I was awake. ‘Uh yeah.’ I sat up. I was tempted to reach up and touch my head. But I knew there would be nothing there. I looked around to see that everyone else was standing around waiting to go. ‘Here.’ Ezra said handing me a pink and white walkie talkie. ‘My favourite colour,’ I said sarcastically as it took it from him and slipped it into my pocket. Aiden shook his head before turning back to the others. ‘Right does everyone remember the plan?’ he asked. Everyone nodded serious expressions on all their faces, even Ronnie. ‘Good,’ he turned to Cam and me. ‘You two will be going ahead. And quickly if you miss the last trucks then we’ll miss our only chance. We both nodded and headed off. The idea was Cam would sneak under the truck while I stayed on the other side of the road and kept an eye on things through Cam’s eyes. They had been reluctant to agree to let me do that, but eventually with enough pleading from Lalita they agreed. Once across the road we slipped back behind the low wall and lay in wait. After only a few minutes we saw a row of three black trucks driving down the road. ‘Get ready,’ I whispered. ‘And remember wait until they’ve checked round the back of the last truck.’ ‘I know,’ Cam hissed gritting their teeth. ‘Hey I’m just making sure you remember. We are asking you to take a big risk here. Okay they’re on the last truck.’ Cam didn’t move from where they were crouched, wanting to stay hidden for as long as possible. The second the guard began to walk away from the back of the truck I reached into Cam’s mind. Cam started running full sprint across the road. It felt so odd watching the world through their eyes. The guard seemed to have slowed to a stop, as if they were frozen in place. I watched as Cam dove under the truck and grabbed on to the underside. After what seemed like ages, seriously did everything move this slowly for Cam? No wonder they’re so impatient all the time. The truck began to move through the gate. Once it was inside the garage I heard the sound of a door open and close and footsteps walking around. ‘Come on you lot. The sooner we can get this equipment back to the storeroom the sooner I can get home.’ Said a female voice. ‘Sounds good to me.’ A male voice replied. There were more noises until eventually it went quiet. Then everything went dark. Shit, Cam thought. The place had no windows making it pitch black with the lights out. I heard more movement, this time it was Cam crawling back out from under the truck, for a moment it was quiet before Cam switched on their torch. They blinked in the sudden light before looking around. They headed towards the garage door and started scanning the wall. On the left side was a keypad with a red light glowing. I saw Cam’s hand move out of the corner of their eye before hearing a quiet beep. ‘Saren.’ Hearing Cam’s voice through both their ears and mine startled me out of their head. ‘Saren are you there?’ I pulled my walkie talkie out of my pocket. ‘Yeah I’m here.’ ‘Are you seeing this?’ ‘The keypad? Yeah I did. Unfortunately in order to answer you I couldn’t keep using my telepathy. And because I can’t see you I can’t use it again.’ There was a pause before I heard the walkie talkie beep again. ‘Sorry.’ I sighed. ‘It’s fine you didn’t know. Just try and look for a password okay?’ ‘Okay.’

The others arrived not long after all the the guards but one had finally left. ‘Hey Saren, how are things looking?’ Aiden asked me. ‘Not sure, I lost visuals when they tried to talk to me through the walkie talkies.’ Aiden nodded but looked worried. ‘Can you try and contact them again?’ he asked pointing to the walkie talkie. I nodded back and pressed the talk button. ‘Cam?’ There was a pause then, ‘I’m here. And I’ve found the pass code for the door.’ ‘Good. Listen The others are here now. I’m going to pass you over to Aiden.’ ‘Alright.’ I passed Aiden the walkie talkie. ‘Okay Cam we just need to get past the guard and then we’ll be with you. Stay by the door, but do not try to open it until I say so.’ ‘Got it.’ Aiden turned to Iesha and Lalita. ‘Are you two ready?’ he asked. ‘Kinda.’ Iesha replied. ‘Not really,’ Lalita sighed. ‘But I don’t think I’ll ever be. So let’s get this over with.’ ‘Good lad.’ Aiden said. The two of them stood up and started to head across the road. We watched as the approached the security guard and started talking to him. The idea was they’d pose as two innocent little kids, which technically they were, and lure the guard out of the booth by asking him for help. So far the plan seemed to be working as we watched him leave the booth and walk closer to the two of them. When he bent down speak to Iesha she breathed a cloud of pale green gas into his face. Startled the man fell backwards, he tried to stand up but Iesha and Lalita pinned him down. Their individual weights didn’t add up to much, but the two of them together combined with the effects of Iesha’s gas was enough to keep him on the ground. It was hard to see what was happening but I knew Lalita was forcing the mans eyes open so he could alter his memories, making him forget he ever saw anyone. When he was done they both stood up and gave us the thumbs up. ‘Okay come on quickly.’ Aiden said before leading Ronnie and myself across the road. Once we were all there Iesha slipped into the booth and pressed some buttons to unlock the smaller walk through gate. Quickly we slipped through and snuck across the car park. Once we were outside the garages Aiden lifted his walkie talkie up to his mouth. ‘Okay Cam open the door.’ For a moment nothing happened, then I saw a crack appear in the bottom of the garage door at the other end. We headed over there and one by one slipped under and switched our torches on. ‘Hey Cam could you lift it a little further?’ Ronnie asked from the other side of the door. Cam reached down and began to pull the door up a little further. Eventually Ronnie was able to squeeze herself under so we were all standing in the garage. Aiden gestured for us to follow him and lead us towards the door into the building. He reached to turn the handle but it wouldn’t budge. ‘Ronnie? Would you do the honours’ he said taking a step back. ‘Yes sir.’ She gave him a mock salute and walked over.  

[mostly-optimistic]

What Family’s For

Summary: Barry helps Taako through a bad day (ao3)

Taako could tell that this was going to be a bad day from the moment he woke up. He could already feel the anxiety and loneliness clawing at his chest. Ever since his family had been returned to him he’d had less and less days like this but they certainly still happened sometimes. He reached out across the bed, more than anything he just wanted to curl up with Kravitz and ride this out, only to find that the reaper had already left for work. Disappointed, Taako buried himself further in his blankets, pressing his face into his pillow and ignoring the tears forming in his eyes.

If Kravitz wasn’t here that meant that the house was empty. Angus wouldn’t be home from school until the weekend and nobody was here visiting at the moment. Lup was out on a long mission and wouldn’t be back for another couple of days at least. With a heavy sigh he dragged himself out of bed and pulled on a pair of leggings and a sweater that definitely used to belong to Magnus. After he was dressed he just stood there for a moment and stared off into space, caught up in how sluggish and exhausted he felt, before finally finding the motivation to leave his room.

He didn’t bother with the rest of his morning routine. At this point he was counting it as a win that he’d even gotten dressed. Instead he headed straight out the front door and made the short journey to the house directly to the right of his own. He quickly cast Knock and let himself in. When he walked into the living room he found Barry on the couch reading. He’d barely looked up when Taako entered the room, used to his family dropping by unannounced. It was only when Taako hesitated too long that he really looked at him. Barry knew what bad days for Taako looked like. It was the sort of thing you learned about someone when you spent a hundred years in their company. Especially when you considered that someone your brother. Knowing not to address the issue, Barry held out his arm in a silent gesture for Taako to join him while going back to reading. In a moment Taako was curled tightly into his side with his face buried in his shoulder. Barry tried not to react except to pull the blanket from the back of the couch around the both of them. Once Taako was settled Barry started to card his free hand through the elf’s tangled mess of hair. Taako let some of the tension melt from his body as Barry’s fingers raked through his hair. It didn’t take long before the sensation of it lulled him to sleep.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he woke again. If he had to guess he’d say it was still morning. It at least hadn’t been long enough for Barry to move from under him but that wasn’t saying much. The dude was way to patient. Taako shifted until he was fully sitting up, though he didn’t move farther from Barry than he had to.

“How are you feeling bud?” Barry asked him.

Taako shrugged noncommittally. “A little better I guess. Still not great.”

“Want me to call Lup? I could go take over for her if you want,” he offered. Taako scoffed a little, pulling his knees up and hugging them to his chest.

“You don’t gotta drag my sister home just because I’m feeling a little off Barold,” Taako replied with forced indignance. Barry laughed a little at that and turned to face him more fully.

“If you’re sure then,” he said. “Is it anything in particular today?”

Taako looked away. “No I just...didn’t want to be alone I guess. And Krav was gone when I woke up and Angus isn’t home so I just…”

“Hey,” Barry cut him off. “I’m glad you came here Taako. Seriously. You know you’re always welcome here.”

“Yeah,” Taako agreed quietly. Silence settled over them for a moment before Barry spoke again.

“Hey isn’t that my sweater?” he asked.

“What? My dude this was definitely Magnus’,” Taako said, a little caught off guard by the change is subject.

“Yeah but you definitely stole that from my closet,” Barry pointed out.

“I did not!” proclaimed Taako. He had no idea if that was true but he was sticking with it. He was not about to surrender his favorite sweater to Barry.

“You did too. Remember that cycle you convinced me to go swimming with you in the middle of the night? We went to that lake we had landed near and I ended up getting really sick because it was so cold. Magnus let me have that sweater because I was freezing for a whole month after that,” Barry told him.

“Actually I do remember that,” Taako said, biting back a laugh. “I can’t believe you let me talk you into that. What were you thinking Barold, honestly?”

“It sounded like a good idea at the time,” Barry laughed.

“Well even if I did steal it from you this sweater’s mine now. Finders keepers and all that,” Taako told him.

“You can keep it,” Barry said dismissively. “I found the really soft one when we were cleaning out the Starblaster anyways.”

“You what?” Taako shouted. Barry only shrugged, grinning at him with a smug look.

“Barold J. Bluejeans if you don’t tell me where that sweater is I will tear this house apart until I find it,” Taako threatened.

“You can certainly try,” Barry said. Taako stared at him for a moment before taking off in a sprint towards Barry’s room. Barry just laughed good naturedly and chased after him, hoping to prevent too much damage to his room from Taako’s search.

When he caught up to him Taako had already made considerable progress in dismantling his closet. Barry just sat on the bed and watched as Taako fruitlessly turned his room upside down. When he ran out of places to look Taako flopped down on the bed next to him.

“Give up?” Barry asked amusedly.

“Do you actually even have it?” Taako asked in frustration.

Instead of answering, Barry just drew his wand and summoned a chest from the ethereal plane. Taako only got a glimpse of it before it disappeared again.

“You sneaky son of a bitch,” Taako said accusingly. Barry just laughed, completely unperturbed by Taako glaring at him.

“You know it sure would be a shame if Lup found out you’ve been hiding that sweater this whole time. She’d probably destroy you,” Taako said. Barry’s eyes went wide.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Barry said.

“I might,” Taako said. “Or I might not. You won’t know until it does or doesn’t happen. That’s what you get for letting me waste my time Barold.” Before Barry could respond Taako was already up and walking out the door.

“C’mon, Taako!” Barry called after him but there was no response. With a sigh he followed Taako out of the room and found him in the kitchen.

“Whatcha making bud?” Barry asked.

“French toast. I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. You want any?” Taako asked as he rummaged through the cupboards.

“Sure,” said Barry.

“You better get out of my kitchen then,” Taako said.

“You know this is actually my kitchen right?” he asked. Taako shot him a glare and Barry raised his hands in surrender, going to sit at the kitchen table instead. Barry kept an eye on him as he cooked, trying to gauge how he was holding up. He still looked a little tense but not nearly as bad as he had been earlier. It was good that he’d actually decided to come here though. Barry remembered the early days on the Starblaster when Taako refused to seek comfort from anyone but Lup. Cycles when she was dead or even just not around were a nightmare.

When they’d first gotten their memories back Barry had wondered how long it would take them to rebuild the trust they’d so carefully cultivated over the years. After spending so much time on his own, Barry worried that Taako would try to distance himself from them again. Even Lup had told him she’d worried about how her relationship with her brother had been altered. Taako was doing his best to pick up where he’d left off though. It was obvious that it was hard for him sometimes but he tried nonetheless.

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted when a plate was dropped in front of him.

“Still with us Barold?” Taako asked.

“Yeah sorry,” Barry said.

They talked idly as they ate about everything ranging from work the next family meeting. Taako told him that soccer would be starting for Angus soon and that they’d all be forced to attend. He tried to pass it off as a complaint but Barry could hear the pride in his voice. He was so happy that Taako was able to build a family for himself here, even if he refused to call it that.

They spent the rest of the day in each other’s company. Taako baked while Barry got some paperwork done. Later they moved on to playing a few very intense games of cards. Barry eventually had to throw the game because of Taako’s “we don’t stop playing until I win at least one round” rule. Said rule had been known to lead to some incredibly late nights on the Starblaster. The day ended much like it began, with the two of them curled up on the couch together. Taako had drifted off to sleep again, this time in Barry’s lap rather than his shoulder. Barry had nearly nodded off as well when he heard someone knocking on his door. He cast a quick mage hand to open it rather than disturbing the elf sleeping on him and Kravitz walked in looking a little concerned. That look turned into relief when he saw the two of them together.

“Oh good he was with you,” he said.

“Yeah he’s been here since this morning,” Barry informed him. Kravitz’s brow furrowed at that.

“Is he ok?” he asked.

“What, he has to not be ok to come spend the day with me?” Barry teased. Kravitz just rolled his eyes at him.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said.

“I know,” Barry conceded. “He was just feeling a little off today I think. He’s been doing better though.”

“I can hear you two gossiping about me,” Taako said. He slowly sat up and stretched his arms above his head, trying to wake up enough to tell the two of them off. Kravitz sat down by his side and pressed a kiss to his temple before he got the chance.

“Hello darling,” he greeted, wrapping him up in a hug. Taako went willingly, letting the cool skin of his boyfriend wake him up the rest of the way.

“Hey yourself,” Taako responded.

“Ready to go home?” Kravitz asked. Taako nodded.

“Yeah I think so. Unless Barry’s gonna starve to death on his own here.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Barry said with a wry smile. He stood up to walk the two of them to the door. Before they left Taako turned to him and looked him over for a moment before wrapping him up in a hug. Barry was surprised but returned it almost immediately.

“Thanks,” Taako said softly.

“Of course,” Barry responded.

Taako pulled away and returned to Kravitz’s side. They said their goodbyes and headed home, leaving Barry alone. He couldn’t help but remember his time as lich when it sometimes felt like he’d never have this again. They’d lost a lot in those hundred years but losing his family had hurt worst of all. Now that he could once again spend entire days with his brother, he couldn’t be more grateful.

[emeto-things]

My Emetophobia Story!

Hi my name is Abby and I’ve had emetophobia since 2011 when I was only 8 years old. It was the winter and the flu was going around. My brother got it, and for some reason he makes himself sick on purpose so he can feel better? Idk. Either way, my bedroom was next door to the bathroom. I woke up to the horrendous sound of g* and v*. I ran into my parents room and asked my mom what was going. She told me he was purposefully making himself sick and that everything was okay. After shaking and crying, I went to bed and couldn’t sleep because it made me so awake. I ended up catching the flu a couple hours later. I was so worried that I was gonna v* too and my mom could NOT convince me that it wasn’t part of the flu and he didn’t that on purpose. The whole time I had the flu I slept barely any, constantly worrying i’d v*. Thankfully I didn’t! After the flu was gone, I was back to my normal self. Until 2013, when I was 10. I was talking to a pen pal online and we decided to make a movie together. I was in charge of everything, and she’d call me everyday asking if I had worked on it. It stressed me out so much that I developed anxiety. Later that year, I was in the car and felt totally fine but had a scary thought of “what if I get motion sickness?” I had motion sickness when I was younger and I still might I just don’t wanna test it. I started to cry and shake uncontrollably and I didn’t know why. I guess that was my first glimpse of a panic attack but I didn’t know such thing existed back then. I realized my friend was not so much of a good friend after all and decided to cut ties with her. My anxiety kinda disappeared again. I then started to develop OCD. I would constantly check her social media’s and read our old messages obsessively to the point i’d Be sad that I left her. It took me monthsss to get over that. But I eventually did. In 2014, my fears got far behind me and I was having a really good life. I don’t remember having anxiety at all much that year. It was the best year ever to this day. In early 2015 when I was 12, I started having strange, violent thoughts. I’d be sleeping with my dog and get a random “urge” to want to shove him off the bed and hurt him. The thoughts scared me so much since I love him and would never want to hurt him. I started having them more. I’d have an “urge” to kill a family member or poison them. It made me so uncomfortable and scared and I thought I had a serious problem and was going to end up a serial killer. It wasn’t until a few months later I was researching OCD and found that those thoughts are an extremely common OCD symptom and that you’d never actually act on it. I felt so much better! I found out I wasn’t a crazy person! Now I don’t even have those thoughts anymore. I was going pretty good until April 2015. I had been in an art class for about 6 months, but I’m this particular day I went, apparently a sv* was going around but I didn’t know about it. And apparently someone in my class was s* and still came in. It was a very tight class with a lot of kids and we were all sharing the same markers and pens and pencils and one girl (I believe who was the s* one) coughed with her mouth open all the time and we sat literally right next to each other that I could feel her breath on me. I didn’t have emetophobia then so I didn’t get all freaked out. Besides, I didn’t even know anyone was sick! If I did, I wouldn’t have gone. Not because I was scared but because of common sense. (This part may be a little triggering but i’ll Try not to be. Skip this part if you want.) 2 nights later, I’m asleep. I wake up around 4am with a very bad feeling. I didn’t think I was s* I just didn’t feel good. I tried to go back to sleep but I couldn’t. I had a small stomach ache, I was kinda dizzy and my head felt really gross. I was also kinda hot & cold and kept having weird dreams every time I’d start to fall asleep. Since I had anxiety in the past, I figured it was just anxiety so I googled ways to calm down and then eventually, my stomach ache went away and I fell asleep. I was extremely tired & basically fell asleep during a small panic attack which is unusual. I woke up again at 7am and I remember my first thoughts were “omg I feel even worse than I did earlier” and I rubbed my head and felt kinda hot. Idk how to describe how I felt it was just horrible. I went on my iPod and went on twitter and was watching YouTube videos to keep my mind off of whatever I was feeling. I then suddenly just g*d. I went into my moms room and told her I had been feeling bad for a while and didn’t know why. She asked me if I was nervous about anything and I said no. I told her I hoped I wasn’t sick. We were counting the days of places I’ve been to see if it was a possibility for me to be sick. And when I said “I went to my art class the other day” my mom realized that could be a possibility but didn’t wanna say anything. She said she still thought I probably wasn’t s* though. I went back to bed and watched more YouTube videos. I suddenly got reaaaaaally tired and decided to listen to calming music. I put on a song and in the song, someone made a noise that sounded like a g* and that triggered my reflex since I was already feeling it anyway. I knew v* was about to happen but I kept on keeping it from happen. I even started to feel better. So I told my mom I was feeling better and would be downstairs for breakfast soon. I got dressed like I normally would, just feeling tired but not really s*. I went downstairs and got a banana and sat on the couch next to my mom. I ate two bites and started to feel s* again. She had on a cooking show which obviously didn’t make me feel any better. I told a joke to my mom that made me start laughing hard and then my headache and pain all came back. I went from laughing to g* within seconds and then it happened. I rushed to the sink, did my thing and then that was it. I ran back to the living room and started crying like crazy and screaming “what is wrong with me???” But thankfully I didn’t get s* again but I was just super tired and drained the whole day. But we had a birthday party at my house that night since I was feeling better. Since that day, everything has changed. The very next day, I started wondering about every bodily symptom that before then I would’ve totally ignored. Just thinking of bananas sent me into panic, my mom couldn’t watch her cooking show around me and the smallest stomach pain would send me into a panic spiral. Over the summer I got really busy and my phobia got pushed aside. I still worried about it more than I ever did before but I wasn’t panicking and I could get my mind off of it pretty easily. I even got to meet my favorite band (The Vamps) that summer! Which totally distracted me from everything. It was going pretty good until October 2015. I went to Starbucks and got a pumpkin coffee, and had a strange thought of “what if I’m allergic to pumpkin?” And I started to have trouble breathing (not because a health issue, it was my anxiety - but I didn’t know that then.) I calmed down, and the day went on like normal. That night, my family came over and I was in my room singing. I got extremely hot out of nowhere, so I ripped my boots, jacket and scarf off and turned on my fan. I got even more hot. Then my lips went tingly and so did my hands and feet. Then I started getting really dizzy. I ran downstairs to my mom. I had NO idea what was happening. I cried for hours and my grandma (who also has anxiety) helped me and told me it was a panic attack and how she has had them before. They really calmed me down, and after it was over I was so thankful and was glad i’d Probably never experience another one. I was wrong. The next morning, the panic symptoms came back and I was on the verge of another one. I had a panic attack everyday for around 2-3 weeks. I was miserable, tired and my nerves never got a chance to relax because any time I was almost calm, I would panic again. At the same time, my dad lost his job, my brother had a horrible cold that I caught (I’m not even telling that story because it’s too long. I didn’t v* though!!!) and my anxiety was the worst it had ever been. Christmas that year was a total blur because I was so sleep deprived and out of it that I honestly barely remember what happened. In 2016, my anxiety got a lot better. I was still very careful and worried a lot but I wasn’t panicking all the time. I developed OCD hard core though. I couldn’t do simple tasks like cleaning my room because I would have to refill a certain article of clothing 50+ times due to my OCD. My OCD would say “if you don’t fold it like this, you’ll get s*” so I listened to it. I feel like I was dead that whole year. My hair was dry and brittle and almost coming out because I stayed in the shower so long trying to get clean and I brushed my hair super hard because my OCD told me it was the only thing to prevent s* from happening. Thanks to a lovely girl online who helped me with OCD and the help of praying, my OCD went away almost completely!! I was so happy. This was in January 2017 when I was 14. My family had a stressful year though due to family problems. But around June 2017, my anxiety and emetophobia started to pick up again and it’s been bad again ever since. I worry about food and viruses more than I ever have and I’m starting to have panic attacks again. So sadly, that’s where I am now. 15 years old atm. My life is still pretty good I guess. I don’t have controlling OCD anymore, and since I’m older I’m able to think more logically than I used to. But I’m nowhere near recovery yet. Hopefully soon! Sadly, I can’t end my story on a positive note because I have recovered yet. But for all of you out there dealing with this horrible phobia, I know what you’re going through. You’re not alone. I know what it feels like to shaky uncontrollably worrying that any second you’ll be s*. I know what fake n* feels like. I know what worrying to the point you just want to sleep feels like. I know what it feels like to want to die than rather be s*. I know what you feel like! I’ve felt it several times and it’s horrible. But we can get through this together. We are so much stronger than we think we are and we won’t let this phobia beat us. I know it can be so controlling, but we can do it. Getting s* is soooo uncommon. People rarely ever v* and if they do, it’s because they were doing something us careful people wouldn’t. We are so careful that we have way less of a chance than people who aren’t like us - and even they won’t be s*!! Don’t worry. You will be okay. Remember all the times you’ve felt this way and been scared all for nothing. Each time you have a panic attack, it makes you stronger. And remember not to google your symptoms. Google doesn’t know everything and there’s a lot of liars and people who don’t know much out there. Some people probably post things just to scare us health freaks! You’re going to be okay. And you won’t be s*. Keep telling yourself that! You’re okay and we’ll get through this, together. Stay strong my loves!❤️❤️❤️

[hold-my-hair-back]

E4 for Emmett of the emeto-ish prompts! Your writing is so cute :)

I’m so sorry it took so long to get this one out. I know it’s been in my ask box for quite some time now. Like a month, probably. Well, here it is finally. The request was “I can’t stop burping”.

After the death of his father and the mental decline of his mother, Emmett didn’t often contemplate the aspect of having a family. When his mom wasn’t working, she was out drinking or at home sleeping off the most recent binge. Basically, Emmett hadn’t considered himself to be part of a family for a long time. This was probably why the idea of going to Aiden’s family reunion was so daunting. When Aiden first asked if he wanted to go, Emmett almost said no and had tried to come up with an excuse. However, after giving it more thought, he decided to go. Not only did he want to make Aiden happy, but he also couldn’t help but think this was his chance to become part of a real family. He and Aiden have been best friends for kindergarten, and boyfriends since middle school, and yet Emmett never had the opportunity to meet much of his boyfriend’s family. This was something he couldn’t pass up. Besides, Aiden had insisted that they were all eager to finally meet him.

The morning of the reunion, Emmett woke up to an empty bed beside him. He and Aiden didn’t often share a bed since Aiden’s mom wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but since the two of them had graduated high school last month, she seemed to be becoming more lenient about it. Lately, Aiden had been spending nearly every night with him and Emmett was starting to enjoy not waking up alone every morning to an empty house. It was strange to not see his boyfriend in the bed beside him because even if Aiden woke up first, he always waited.

Emmett wanted to get out of bed and find Aiden, but his exhaustion was winning him over and he instead buried his face into the pillow his boyfriend had used last night. It was the middle of July, so Emmett wasn’t entirely sure why he felt so chilly. He pulled the blanket around him and closed his eyes again and was just about to drift off when he heard footsteps coming into the bedroom. Emmett opened one eye and watched as Aiden – dressed in something other than a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants for once – moved around the room as quietly as possible. Emmett was surprised he wasn’t being told to get up seeing as if Aiden was already fully dressed, it must be getting late. Emmett couldn’t help but smile as Aiden began to pack for him, quietly putting three t-shirts and an extra pair of jeans into a duffle bag. “You don’t have to pack for me, sweetheart” Emmett said into the pillow, words barely audible. “I’ll get up in a minute.”

Aiden was clearly surprised when Emmett began speaking and he turned around quickly before relaxing with a bright smile. “I don’t mind, Em,” he promised, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge. “You looked like you needed the sleep.” Emmett closed his eyes again as he felt Aiden’s gentle fingers begin to rake through his hair.

“I’m fine now,” Emmett insisted, forcing himself to open his eyes again. Why was he so damn tired this morning? If he remembered correctly, he had gone to bed rather early last night, falling asleep during the cartoon Aiden had put in.

“Em,” Aiden began softly, looking at him with big eyes. “Are you sure you feel alright?”

Emmett knew he and Aiden could read each other like books, which meant they could never get away with hiding something from the other. There was no point in lying to his boyfriend about how he was feeling. “I just feel a little off,” Emmett admitted. “Not bad, just tired. I dunno. I probably just need some coffee and food.”

Aiden smiled softly and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. The gesture was so sweet and so loving, and despite the fact that Aiden did it several times a day, it never ceased to bring a smile to Emmett’s lips. “Lucky for you, I happened to wake up early enough to bake some muffins. I know how much you love banana nut. There’s coffee in the pot too.”

Emmett sat up in bed with a big smile. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asked, pecking Aiden on the lips. “Thank you, sweetheart, you spoil me.”

Aiden blushed and looked away, biting his lip just like he always did when given a compliment. “Well, seeing as you’re traveling four hours with me to spend three days with a bunch of people you’ve never met, I feel like breakfast is the least I can do.”

Emmett still wondered how he had managed to keep someone as wonderful as Aiden in his life. Despite how sluggish he felt, Aiden’s smile made Emmett feel as though everything was going to be okay. It brought him the strength he needed to finally drag his ass out of bed and shuffle over to the closet to throw on some clothes. Emmett glanced over at Aiden who looked more than uncomfortable in his outfit. The sweater that he slid over the collared shirt was much tighter than the baggy hoodies he usually wore. It wasn’t a surprise that Aiden’s arms were wrapped around his whole middle in an attempt to hide his body. As much as Emmett wanted to slip on a t-shirt and jeans, he figured if Aiden could force himself to wear something nice, he could too.

“You look very handsome, Em,” Aiden said with a smile as Emmett walked over to him, wearing his black dress shirt, blazer, and slacks.

Emmett looked over at Aiden and returned the smile before taking a seat on the bed next to him. “So do you, sweetheart,” Emmett said, kissing his cheek. “I know you don’t think so, but just know that I do, okay?” With Aiden’s various mental illnesses, what Emmett said wouldn’t make much of a difference, but at least his boyfriend would know.

“Promise?” Aiden whispered and it damn near broke Emmett’s heart. He wrapped his arm around Aiden’s shoulders and held his boy close as he kissed the top of his head.

“Promise. Now, I believe you said something about muffins?” Strangely enough, as appealing as it sounded earlier, Emmett was finding the idea of eating difficult. Usually, Aiden’s baking was the ideal perfect morning, but now it felt more like an obligation. Emmett would never say something like that to Aiden, though, knowing how much pride his boyfriend took in the food he made. Baking seemed to be one of the few things that Aiden was really proud of. No way in hell would Emmett take that away.

“Muffins,” Aiden agreed, standing up and taking Emmett’s hand. “I know food is always the first thing on your mind when you wake up in the morning.”

Emmett let Aiden lead him downstairs and into the kitchen as he tried to think of something to say in return. Aiden was right about food usually being his morning priority, however, it just wasn’t the case on this particular morning. In fact, a small part of him knew his stomach was telling him to skip the meal and just go back to bed. Emmett didn’t have time to try and think of an excuse as Aiden was already sitting him down at the table and putting a plate full of three muffins in front of him.

“There’s more if you’re still hungry,” Aiden said, kissing his cheek before adding a mug full of coffee to the table. “I already ate.”

Emmett didn’t believe that for a second, but he knew pressing the matter always resulted in Aiden having a bad panic attack about his appearance. It was something they were slowly working on as a team, but Emmett knew Aiden needed time with this. “Thank you, sweetheart,” Emmett said sincerely, despite not wanting anything to do with the food that was in front of him. Luckily, Aiden walked back into the kitchen to pour himself some orange juice, so he wasn’t able to see the face Emmett made as he swallowed his first bite of muffin. It tasted incredible, but the feeling of it going down his throat was less incredible. Already, his stomach was beginning to feel heavy as he continued to make his way through the muffin. When it was finished, Emmett pressed his fist to his mouth and burped into it as he leaned back in the chair. Aiden came back to the table a cup of orange juice in his hand. “You alright, Em?” he asked gently. “Are you still tired?”

Figuring this was his exit, he nodded. “Yeah, didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Are you going to be okay to drive?”

Emmett could hear the worry in Aiden’s tone and he smiled warmly. “Of course, sweetheart. I’m not gonna fall asleep or anything.” Another burp escaped him, this one louder than the last and giving him no time to stifle it. “Excuse me,” he said, gently patting his stomach. “Guess I got air in my belly.” Emmett knew his table manners usually lacked, so him letting loose at the table wasn’t out of the ordinary. “These muffins are really good, sweetheart, but I think I’ll take the other two to go. That way we can get to there sooner.” Really, Emmett needed an excuse to not have to eat two entire muffins under Aiden’s watch as he knew his stomach wouldn’t appreciate that very much. He felt like he had eaten ten muffins instead of one and it was making his stomach turn.

“Sounds good,” Aiden said, finishing off his orange juice and walking over to the sink to rinse out his glass. The moment Aiden’s back was turned, Emmett brought a hand up to his swollen middle and he began rubbing soothing circles through the material of his shirt. There was no way he was letting an upset stomach get in the way of this, though. Aiden had expressed more than once that support was needed as social gatherings made his anxiety even worse.

Emmett stood up from the table slowly and thanked Aiden as he began to put the muffins in a brown paper sack. Emmett hoped that after a while, his stomach would start to feel better. The last thing he wanted to do was to show up at a large gathering with twenty other people, feeling sick to his stomach. “Alright, sweetheart,” Emmett said, grabbing Aiden’s hand. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just go with my parents and brothers?” Aiden asked, pulling Emmett back just slightly. “I don’t want you to do this because you think you have to.”

Emmett turned around and faced Aiden before pressing a soft kiss to his boy’s lips. “I’m certain, baby. I want to spend this weekend with you and I want to meet your family. Don’t make me drag you to the car.” Emmett’s stomach was still shifting, but Aiden’s bright smile made it all worth it. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t feeling one hundred percent, he was going to do this for him.

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“Em? You doing okay?”

It was the third time Aiden asked that since they left the house an hour ago. Emmett knew his boyfriend was only worried, but he wished Aiden would stop asking him that. Mostly because it was getting increasingly more difficult to lie about how he was feeling. He shrugged his shoulders and brought a hand to his mouth to stifle yet another burp. “I’ll be fine,” he answered with a soft hiccup.

“You aren’t feeling good,” Aiden protested. “You haven’t been feeling good all morning, have you?”

Emmett wanted to lie, but he also knew that there was no hiding how he felt from Aiden, not with how long they’ve been in each other’s lives. “I can’t stop burping,” he murmured, deciding to dodge the question instead. As if to prove his point, Emmett felt his the gas bubbles in his stomach shift again, sending air up his throat and out of his mouth.

“Because your tummy is sick,” Aiden said softly. “That’s why you couldn’t eat this morning. I knew something had to be wrong when you didn’t even look at your coffee. That’s usually the first thing you need in the mornings, right next to food.”

Emmett swallowed thickly as he listened to Aiden talk. “Yeah, I get it. Can we maybe not talk about food, though? You’re right. My stomach is upset.”

Aiden bit his lip and looked out the window, something he did when he didn’t know what else to do. “I’m sorry I made you come,” he said softly, and the tone of his voice actually broke Emmett’s heart because Aiden sounded like he truly hated himself for this.

“Okay, hang on,” Emmett said, sparing a quick glance over at him. “This was my choice, okay? And I don’t regret it. Yeah, my stomach is a little upset, but I’ll survive. It’s not like-” Emmett was cut off as a small burp caused an acidic taste to splash the back of his throat. His mouth was filling with saliva and he was feeling uncomfortably warm. He was kept one hand on the wheel as the other covered his mouth. The sound of Aiden calling his name with a worried tone sounded like nothing more than background noise as he quickly pulled the car over onto the side of the road. As fast as he could, Emmett unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, sticking his head out just in time as a mouthful of vomit poured out of his mouth and onto the dirt below him.

“Oh, Em,” Aiden said softly, reaching over and putting a hand on Emmett’s back. “It’s going to be okay. Just get it out.”

Emmett hated the fact that this had to happen on his way to meet so many people. Hopefully, he just needed to throw up whatever he had inside of him, and he would be good to go. He spat out a mouthful of bile and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, taking a few deep breaths. “I feel better,” he told Aiden truthfully as he sat back up in his seat and shut the door. “I think I just needed to puke.”

Aiden looked like he wanted to protest but instead opted to bite his lip and nod. “Okay,” he said with a small smile. Emmett felt himself relax further as Aiden’s soft lips pressed against his cheek. “If you need to go back home, please don’t think I’ll be upset. I would much rather you be comfortable and not surrounded by a whole bunch of strangers while feeling sick.”

“I’ll be okay,” Emmett said, trying to sound reassuring. “Really, I want to go to this reunion with you, sweetheart.” The smile Aiden gave him definitely put Emmett at ease. He started up the car again and pulled back onto the road, hoping that was the end of it.

As always, luck didn’t prove to be on his side. A little over an hour later, Emmett started to feel the familiar pressure deep in his gut. It was a hot, summer day, and both he and Emmett had been drinking a fair amount of water. At first, he felt fine, but now everything in his stomach was beginning to slosh again. They were stopped at a red light and Emmett was glad to be able to take his hands off the wheel for a moment so he could use them to stifle a dangerously wet belch while simultaneously resting a hand on his bloated stomach. “That didn’t sound good,” Aiden said, glancing over at him. “Your stomach is upset again, isn’t it?”

Emmett knew there was no hiding it. He sighed when the light turned green and began to drive again, trying to think of something to say to Aiden that would make him stop worrying. “No,” he answered after a while, knowing honesty would be best. “I probably drank the water too damn fast or something.” Emmett burped again and quickly brought one hand to his mouth. He was doing the best he could to stay focused on his driving, but that was becoming increasingly difficult as his stomach continued to churn. There was a gas station in view – he just needed to be able to make it there. However, when he burped again, it brought up a torrent of watery vomit which spilled down his shirt and onto his lap as he kept his eyes on the road.“Oh, Em,” Aiden whispered as they pulled into the gas station parking lot. “I feel so bad.”

Emmett had no idea why Aiden was feeling guilty, and he wanted to ask, but he knew he was going to be sick again. Without saying anything, he cupped his hand over his mouth and exited the car, sprinting into the building as fast as he could. Fortunately, he reached the bathroom without losing anything along the way, and he crouched down in front of the toilet, not bothering to lock the stall door behind him. The whole bathroom smelled foul and probably hadn’t been cleaned in days which was definitely not helping the state of his stomach. As he stared into the water, a long, wet belch echoed in the bowl making him shudder. Emmett wrapped his arm around his queasy belly as he drooled into the toilet, feeling too exhausted to fight it anymore.

“Emmett?” Aiden’s voice was filled with worry and Emmett was starting to feel guilty about all of this. Aiden was stressed enough about the reunion, he didn’t need this on his plate. Still, the comforting hand on his back was welcomed and made him feel just a little better momentarily. “Did you get sick yet, Em?”

Emmett shook his head as he burped into the toilet again. “Close, though,” he warned. His stomach ominously gurgled and the burp that followed brought up a mouthful of puke that splashed noisily into the bowl.

“There you go,” Aiden whispered as he continued to rub Emmett’s back.

Emmett knew he was empty again and he reached up and flushed the toilet, looking away from the vomit that went down. “I’m sorry, Aiden. I’m not sure what’s going on with me today.”

“You probably have a tummy bug,” Aiden said sadly as he gently rested his hand on Emmett’s stomach. “Should we go home? I really won’t be upset.”

Emmett didn’t want to be surrounded by people for the next few days, but his exhaustion outweighed that. “We’re more than halfway there,” he pointed out. “And I don’t think I’d be able to drive all the way back.”

“I understand,” Aiden said softly, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. “Em, I’m so sorry you don’t feel good.”

Emmett shrugged his shoulders and stood up, following Aiden out of the bathroom. “I’ll live. I can handle a little stomach bug, Aiden.”

The rest of the drive was far more brutal than Emmett thought. He had to pull over twice more to throw up the water Aiden was begging him to drink, and he pulled over once to drive heave miserably. Emmett could also tell this was starting to increase Aiden’s anxiety which was the absolute last thing he would ever want to do to his boyfriend. Aiden had enough to worry about; a bug should not be on the list of priorities.

Finally, a large log cabin came into view. It was a nine-bedroom rental with lake property and apparently, the entire family had chipped in to have it for the few days during the reunion. Since a few members of the family lived nearby, Emmett and Aiden lucked out with getting a room to themselves. Emmett appreciated that even more now that he was feeling so crappy.

“How do you want to do this?” Aiden asked him gently, reaching over to rub his back. “Do you want me to go ahead and tell everyone to leave you alone for a little while?”

Emmett was extremely uncomfortable with attention while sick, and the last thing he wanted was a bunch of random people to stop and ask him how he was feeling or if he was okay. He had absolutely no idea how he wanted to handle this situation, so he opted to simply rest his head on the steering wheel as he shrugged his shoulders. It didn’t help that he was now incredibly underdressed for the occasion too, seeing as he got sick all over the only dress pants he had. He was now back to wearing just a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans, hoping the entire family wouldn’t pass judgment on him for it.

“Emmett?” Aiden asked again, and Emmett realized he had just been sitting there quietly, lost in thought.

“Just… take me inside,” Emmett answered. “I kinda just wanna pass out.” Emmett lifted his head and looked at Aiden whose big, blue eyes were full of worry. “Hey,” he began, softening his voice. “It’s just a bug, sweetheart. You don’t need to worry so much, okay?”

Aiden nodded slowly, pressing another loving kiss to his cheek before stepping out of the car, Emmett following his lead. It was a bit of a relief to step out of the car that still smelled like puke despite the fact that Aiden had scrubbed at it with cleaner as Emmett laid in the back seat for a while. He had tried to tell Aiden that he could clean up his own mess, but it also seemed to make Aiden feel a little better.

“People are gonna wanna say hi and stuff,” Aiden warned as walked with Emmett toward the cabin. “Just… tell them you’re tired.”

Emmett nodded and he swallowed thickly, keeping both the nausea and nervousness at bay. As they stepped through the door, they were both immediately greeted by Aiden’s mom.

“There you two are!” she exclaimed, pulling them both into a hug. “What took so long? We’re all in the sitting room talking about tomorrow’s activities. You two should join in.” Aiden’s mom looked over at Emmett and smiled. “Even you, Emmett. You’re part of the family, too.”

A comment like that would usually bring Emmett joy, but in that moment, he dreaded the idea of being introduced to so many people. He felt Aiden wrap his arm around him in silent support and he swallowed again. “Ma’am, that’s very kind–”

“You know to call me Sharon,” she corrected quickly. “None of this ‘ma’am’ nonsense. You’ve been like a son to me for years.” Emmett was about to say something when an older looking man and woman began to walk toward the three of them.

“You must be Emmett!” the older man greeted. “I’m Stu, Aiden’s grandpa. This is my wife, Maureen.”

Emmett forced a smile on his face as he shook hands with his boyfriend’s grandparents. “It’s great to finally meet you two,” he said honestly. He wished it could have been under better circumstances as Aiden had always talked about his grandparents very fondly. Maureen took a step forward and before he knew it, Emmett was pulled into a tight embrace that only made him feel worse. Not only did the hug put pressure on his already sick stomach, but she also had a nauseatingly sweet smelling perfume.

“Aiden can’t stop talking about you whenever he and I chat on the phone,” Maureen told Emmett. “I’m so thrilled you could make it.”

Emmett forced a smile on his face and he nodded slowly. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he choked out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Emmett hated just walking away from Aiden’s grandparents, but he figured that would be better than throwing up on the floor in front of them. As he started walking, he realized he had no idea where he should go to get sick. The last thing he wanted to do was panic, he also wasn’t thrilled with the idea of ruining the floor.

“Upstairs,” Aiden whispered and Emmett felt himself being quickly guided away. Halfway up the stairs, an acidic belch forced its way up and Emmett quickly cupped a hand over his mouth. Aiden’s blue eyes widened and he picked up the pace, keeping a hand on Emmett’s back as he steered him to the closest bathroom. By the time they reached it, Emmett already had a mouthful of vomit, causing his cheeks to puff out. He stood over the sink because it was closer and opened his mouth, wincing as the vomit in his mouth poured out into the sink.

“It’s okay,” Aiden said gently, rubbing his back. “Em, you’re going to be okay.”

The worry was evident in Aiden’s voice and Emmett just wanted to reassure him that he was okay. However, the moment he opened his mouth, a loud heave sounded through the bathroom. That was just what he needed – the whole house hearing him get sick in the bathroom. “Damn,” he muttered, spitting into the sink.

“If they ask, I’ll just say it was the long drive,” Aiden said softly. “I don’t think anyone other than my mom and grandma would say anything about it, though.”

Emmett shrugged and wiped his mouth with a washcloth Aiden handed to him. “It is what it is, I guess. I’ll be okay, sweetheart. You don’t need to be so worried.” Emmett turned around and faced Aiden hesitating a little bit before he kissed Aiden’s cheek. “Think I could crash for a little while?”

Aiden nodded and took his hand. “Of course. This way, Em.”

Aiden led him to a nice bedroom with a large bed in the middle. It looked just as Emmett would imagine a room in a log cabin to look. Everything was made out of wood and it even had a wood stove in the corner of the room. “It’s nice,” Emmett said, walking over to the bed and plopping down about as ungracefully as possible. He smiled as he felt Aiden begin to untie his shoes and pull them off for him, setting them down gently beside the bed.

“Are you going to sleep?” Aiden asked, crawling onto the bed beside him. “Do you think sleep will help?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep,” Emmett admitted. “But, yeah, I’m probably gonna crash if I can. Are you gonna go downstairs with your family?”

“No, I’m staying with you.” Aiden rested his head on Emmett’s chest the two fell into a comfortable silence.

The silence was interrupted moments later when a loud gurgle sounded out from Emmett’s belly. Emmett turned his head and burped into his fist, wishing he could have at least an hour of peace before his stomach decided to act up again. “Sorry,” he muttered quickly before belching again.

“Are you going to throw up?” Aiden asked, lifting his head.

Emmett contemplated this before shaking his head. “No, I think I just needed to get the last bit of air out. It’s a little better now, just hurts.”

Aiden slid down the bed a little bit and slowly lifted Emmett’s shirt. Before Emmett could ask what he was doing, he felt Aiden’s soft, sweet lips brush up against his stomach. “Kisses make you feel better, right?” Aiden asked, looking up at him with big, blue eyes before kissing Emmett’s stomach again.

Emmett loved how sweet Aiden was. He loved that no matter what, Aiden would always just want to make him feel better. He closed his eyes as he felt his boyfriend’s soft hands begin to rub his stomach in gentle, soothing circles. “Much better,” he murmured with a smile, already feeling himself begin to drift off.

“I love you, Em,” were the last words Emmett heard before falling into a peaceful rest.

This is almost 5,000 words. Why is it so long? Haha. I hope y’all like it, though! Thank you, @tomato-sickfics for the sweet request!