#<- going heavier on the trigger tags than i actually feel which yeah...

[bread-tab]

ooof

going through papers looking for a misplaced piece of paperwork and found a note from after one of my last sessions with my crappy therapist

"[Therapist] not the type to be harsh w/o good reason so I'd better sit up & listen even if it felt mean. It shows faith in me that she would be brutally honest w/ me even though she knows I'm sensitive as hell - She believed I could take it."

actually no, bro! if your therapist makes you feel like this that is a RED FLAG 🚩

seriously if you're in therapy and the vibe gets this bad there needs to be major work done to repair the relationship and if you feel like you can't safely bring it up then get out of there. get a different therapist. this is NOT how therapy is supposed to go. there has to be TRUST before you can get anything actually done

the "harsh" talk was in reference to me being repeatedly late, a problem rooted in my adhd and anxiety, which was interfering with everything in my life including getting to therapy. in some strange coincidence, after i stopped going to my therapy appointments i started slowly getting better about that! almost as if the way she was addressing the problem was making my anxiety worse!

even if you are partially at fault in a situation like this, there are healing ways to address issues and set boundaries. someone you are going to for help should not be tearing you down further. therapists are trained to be actively not shitty about things like this even if they're frustrated

i can't believe i put up with this person for nearly a year 😠

[beann-e]

“ honestly Suna sometimes it feels like your just sitting there — calculating — thinking of ways that you can piss me off” you let out in a huff of anger as you slammed your hand onto the arm rest placed in the middle of the car. Voice loud enough to be heard from a mile away and then some “ And then you don’t even fucking care “

“ I’m sorry you feel that way “

“ seriously ? seriously Suna “

“ oh I’m sorry would you like me to say it jokingly? “

The silence that towered over the both of you was tall and it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon “ WELL WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY “ his hand came up to run down his face as he sighed

“ look I'm sorry baby but — “

“ but nothing — I'm tired Rin—I'm tired of you screwing with me“ you groaned “ honestly at this point just fuck off “

he moved to pull the keys from the car unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door as your jaw hung open “ what the fuck Suna — “

“ I'm fucking off you ungrateful bit—“

“ you asshole — all of a sudden you take everything literal right ?? huh only when you want to right “

“ y’know what— no you fuck off —ok y/n “

“ see that’s what I'm talking about “

“ honestly I doubt you even know what you were talking about in the first place “

your steps quickened as you followed after the male who stopped at your front door imputing the code and opening your house door “ This is what I mean by you keep fucking with me Suna “

“ oh “ he moved to sit down on the couch arms flung behind it and legs spread wide out in front of him. “ is it really— because , the 40 minute argument in the car about your best friend hitting on me didn’t quite make that clear “ he scoffed shaking his head along with it “ your shitty reasoning must of gotten lost on one of the many streets of Japan y/n “

His eyes glowing body perking up with his next sentence “ yknow what how about you go find it hmm then we can have this little talk sometime later -- preferably when I'm sleeping id hate to be awake for another one of your hellish complaints babe.”

your anger was only growing as the argument continued “ you fucking douchebag I bet you don’t even know why I'm pissed off “

He let out a small sigh of a laugh his legs shaking and hitting each other in a wave before they resumed their earlier position “ I don’t“

“ and you don’t care either do you “

“ I don’t “

Your heart broke for the first time ever in your relationship with the stoic male after hearing his words and tone. In all the time you and your boyfriend had been together you two never argued about his lack of emotion or care.

It never bothered you

It never affected you

until it did

4 hours ago

You smiled up at the taller male as his mouth continued to run while talking to the rest of his volleyball team. This was the first time you’d ever seen him talk for more than 5 minutes with anything other then yeah’s and small mhmms.

The both of you had been invited to a class reunion and you only decided to go because of his new teams constant nagging

Suna had been telling you all week to find something else to do and that you didn’t have to go with him. That it would be too boring and long and that you would be better off having fun without him.

Of course you put up a fight but, ultimately lost and decided to hang out by yourself for the earlier half of the day spending last weeks paycheck on this weeks shopping spree

it felt nice to treat yourself but you couldn’t help but want to treat your boyfriend too. The thought of him being bored alone plagued your mind and you had to get it out.

The only way to do that was to go to the reunion.

Now how you imagined it would go is you show up in your fancy new dress surprising him smile a bit , talk up some of the host and sneak your way in and then mingle and go home and cuddle and kiss your boyfriend all night

funny thing is somewhere in that prewritten script you had created you didn’t realize imagination is not always reality.

The sight of your boyfriend leaning against a wall with a glass in his hand and his other on the string of your best friends dress had you reeling in the disgust that you wanted to spill so badly on the floor right now

All you’d done was go to the restroom but now you sat with your eyes widening while you watched his eyebrows come together in annoyance with the string that wouldn’t come undone.

Your best friend faced away from him back to his chest and a small smile on her face. Cheeks heated from his touch and in that moment you cursed her for having a look on her face that made it visible how much she enjoyed his warmth. You wished she didn’t make it so obvious how the closeness to your boyfriend was making her feel

how it was encouraging her

Your heart broke when you seen Suna finally relax and blow air out of his cheeks before nodding softly almost thanking the gods that he figured it out and it was over

Your feet moving before you could even process what to say to either of them.

“ y-y/—“

your hand came in contact with your best friends face before she could even finish the loud slap echoing through the room as everyone turned to find the source of the noise

Eyebrows raising when they noticed it was not only a slap but a full on one sided battle between you and the girl who everyone seen as nice and quiet during your school years

They never knew of the undercover bitch that was lurking behind the surface. They’d never see the way she was smirking as she took every hit given to her in stride. Your boyfriends hands wrapping around your torso as he looked down and seen that you were hovering over her ripping her to bits

You never letting go of the grip your thighs held around her own as she whispered to where only you could hear “ aw poor y/n’s defending someone that doesn’t even want em—gonna go to jail for someone so unloyal huh “

Your eyes lit up with pure hatred as the security made their way over to you reaching to take you from Sunas hold and lessening your grip on the woman beneath you

“ sir we need you to let her go “

“ don’t touch me until you actually make it all the way to police academy you fucking lowlife. “ you spit out “ how the hell do you only make it to security much less high school reunion security “

“ the hell do you know — you don’t even know how hard police academy is asshole “

“ ah I bet your kids’ll be real proud “ your eyes squinted at his name tag “ todd — you kiss your wife with that mouth “

you laughed eyes rolling from him to suna “ or are you like this asshole and kiss your mistress with it instead ? huh toodles ? “

“ ha — ‘m gonna have fun with you--ya little prick. sir — let ‘em go or else i’ll pull out the big guns — they snuck in here and now their disrespecting an officer “

“ big guns “ your laugh circulated through the room “ ‘k sure let me stop before I get pepper sprayed “

“ my hands already on the trigger you lil bitc— “

“ hey “ sunas voice growled behind you “ watch who the fuck your talking to toodles“

“ just— get—get the fuck off dude I didn’t go to police academy so I could avoid this — their full on disrespecting me come on man get off“ your face scrunched up in annoyance as you saw the security look like they were about to cry

“ well I mean — “ he sighed “ it’s not like your a real officer right“ suna sighed out as he began to bite his lip in worry “ I mean we can let this slide right ? “ he nodded looking towards the males name badge “ uh toodles“

He coughed “ todd — I mean todd “

“ I’m sorry but, even if I could “ his gaze dead set on you “ which I really don’t want to — seeing as though they disrespected me “

His voice sounding proud as he continued “ and I'll have you know I'm security guard of the mouth asshole “

“ oh whoop dee fucking do Tinkerbelle ”

“ y-fucking-/n “ you could feel the way Suna was seething above you breath hot and you could tell his face was made up in a snarl “ if you don't shut the fuck up I swear on Atsumu’s unwashed boxers ill leave your ass prison letters starting tonight “

“ see —— sir I'm trying “ he sighed “ I really am trying to let this go but — “

“ their with me — “

“sure “ he scoffed “ I'll need to see some relations or — “

“ their my s/—their my plus one “ his eyes moved to look at everyone surrounding you guys then back to the position he now held you in before finally dropping you to the floor. Your heart dropping and ears tuning everything out from that point on.

Everything on mute until you got in the car and were finally met with his low voice as he buckled you in and walked to his side turning the car on “ y/n “

You turned to look out the window “ y/n that — “

His voice was so hard but so weak “ y/n that was so fucking embarrassing “ Your body shivered at his words

“ having to watch my fucking s/o almost get fucking arrested “

His hands tightened their grip on the wheel “ then turning around and having to talk you out of it in front of our whole graduating class “

his voice went deadpanned as he swerved a bit on the road mixing lanes “ and — and my team — oh fuck my team “

he started to breathe a bit heavier as you began to feel bad hearing the sadness in his voice. His body shifting in his seat “ all so you could “

he laughed a bit at the situation “ all so you could take your ugly ass insecurities out on your friend ? “

he scoffed looking from you to the road and back to you “ when did you two even stop being friends huh ? did I miss that or ?? do friends just go out and leave bruises on each other or is that something new? What-- is it like a new TikTok trend -- a fashion statement huh ?? the fuck is it because, I'm not a friend person so maybe you know something I don’t “

He scoffed “ maybe — maybe I'll never be a friend person after something like that. If friends are just beating each other’s asses in broad day light out the fucking blue then I'll just stick with ‘tsumu at least I know I can beat his ass if he were to pull some shit like that “

‘ friend ‘ you thought silently

“ poor kid didn’t even see it coming “ he shook his head at you turning back to the road “ holy hell that’s shameful y/n “

he whispered “ I don’t even wanna think about the rumors that’ll spread about us tomorrow “

The car was quiet only for a minute as Suna re arranged his thoughts before he could beat into you again “ friend Suna ? “

your voice was dry “ Rin do friends help each other out of their clothes ? “

your eyebrows creased “ do they focus so intently on another woman while their own is in the same room “

“ I didn’t know you were there “

“ SO YOU ONLY TAKE FRIENDS CLOTHES OFF WHEN IM NOT THERE “

“ NO I “

“ YOU ONLY TOUCH OTHER WOMEN WHEN IM NOT THERE “

“ y/n jus— “ he took a deep breathe and let it out “ just shut up its not like that “ he let out an uncomfortable and tired scoff of a laugh “ it wasn't like that “

“ it’s always shut up Suna it’s never ‘ what’s wrong y/n ‘ ‘ are you ok y/n ‘ it’s just ‘ shut up I don’t wanna talk so you don’t wanna talk either ‘ “

you locked eyes with the male in front of you “ I'm done Rin I'm— I'm done “

“ you cant leave me-- heh not after that shit you pulled back there  “ 

“ fuck if I cant--you don't look like my legs to me and as far as I know their still Bluetooth connected to my mind so-- “

“ you'll be an overnight clown you-you need me y/n “ he shook his head “ we need each other “ 

“ no you need volley ball because you need money-- because guess what asshole as of right now-- your homeless”

“ fuck you as if “

“ we’re over Suna don't let my words finally hit you when you walk out the shitty door”

“ that’s fine by me “ he scoffed “ get the hell out for all I care — I'll pack your shit for you “

“ no— I'll pack your shit asshole your living  in my house bottom feeder “

“ if you don’t shut the fuck u— “

“ then what ? huh what — you’ll leave me “

“ I swear to god I'll —”

“ you’ll what cheat on me with my best friend ah I'm so scared — “ your voice holding nothing but mock enthusiasm “ I can just imagine the way you’ll kiss her when I'm not there — these thoughts for some reason almost feels real y’know “

you watched as the man you’d taught yourself to love for 7 years since high school finally walked out the door. His perfume from earlier still hanging in the air long after the door slammed. Your mind racing when you were finally brought to one thought

‘ how did we end up like this and how the hell do we get back ‘

[dreadpoetssociety]

Fevers Don’t Exist

TW: Fever ? (I’m not sure what counts for triggers so pls lmk if I miss anything)

Prompt: hi!! could u do one maybe where like, the reader is an actress on supernatural and she plays like their younger sister on the show or something and she gets sick at a con or something? Thanks !!

NOTE: Hey guys, I’m alive!!!! I know I have a lot of Spencer prompts atm, but it’s really hard to write them when I’m not like, hyper focused on Criminal Minds. I am going to try though! So sorry I’ve left so many of you in the wind, I am a very inconsistent person, my bad. But here’s this! It’s REALLY bad because I’m terrible at being realistic but like idk it’s something.

I really don’t even know what to put for tags on this. 

()()()()()() 

Ah, September. You knew what came along every September, and looked forward to it for the first eight months of every year. Secaucus, New Jersey. You loved every con you went to, truly. Everyone was so nice, you love staying in hotels, panels are such a great time, the whole thing. It's a great experience outside of the set to get connected with fans. And, they loved you almost as much as you loved them. You were typically closer in age, since you were still just a teenager. You also started out as a fan of the show before somehow snatching a role, so you really were with them at one point. Everything that excites them excited you just as much. And, you loved making friends with them. You weren't allowed to be reckless with your phone number, so you made a snapchat that you shared exclusively with con goers, whom you made swear to secrecy. It was like a club, and you just enjoyed genuinely talking to everyone. But, when you woke up that first morning, you knew it was going to be a long day. Your body ached, and you were still pretty exhausted. You had a fever, but didn't really know if it was a fever because you were still young, and God forbid you ever decided to recognize the signs of you being sick. It was almost like a form of denial, not knowing. You were sweating, but freezing, and your throat felt particularly dry. Your headache rested underneath your eyes for the most part, to which you just blamed on being tired. Your stomach didn't hurt, but you definitely weren't hungry. Even though you hadn't felt exactly 100% the past days before, and you obviously weren't feeling right now, you just deduced that it was all because you were tired, and had a late flight in. As a responsible person does, of course. You didn't even bother taking any medicine for it, because hey, you obviously weren't sick, you'd feel better in a bit, and you didn't have any, so why waste the time, right? 

You groggily got dressed and met up with "the boys" (even though they were all older than you) for the free breakfast downstairs, in a separate room, since fans did happen to stay in the same hotel. You grabbed some Cheerios, only to conspicuously throw them away after. 

"You good, Y/N?" Jared asked out loud, gaining the attention of Jensen, Misha, and Alex. You could feel their eyes burning through your skin. Or, maybe that was the fever. It had to be their eyes, you convinced yourself, you didn't have a fever. You were fine. 

"Yeah, why?" you asked, faking the perk in your voice and confused eyes. Your eyes felt really heavy, you noticed. 

"You just... You look exhausted. And pale." he said, "And you threw away that cereal without eating any of it." 

You looked down at yourself as an effect for what you were about to say, "Wow, well that's one way to make me self-conscious. I thought I looked kind of poppin'." you laughed slightly, trying to play it off. 

"W-wait, no that's- that's not what I meant! You look fine, I just-" he was embarrassed. You and the others chuckled.

"I'm kidding. I'm all good, just went to bed late, y'know?" you smiled. It was hard to try and mask the rasp in your voice, and doing so made you feel the need to cough, so you downed some water until it dialed down a bit. He nodded. In your mind, you blessed your acting skills, thinking you got away with it. What you didn't know was that Misha, Jensen, and Jared, as fathers do, knew every trick in the book, and each noted to keep an eye on you. Not to mention, they'd been acting far longer than you had, and could just tell when one switches into a character. They all figured that if you weren't sick now, you would be in days to come, and exchanged glances with each other, while Alex innocently continued to chew on his toast. 

"Well, if you're tired, I don't think you have a panel or anything for another hour or something, maybe you could catch up on some sleep then." Jared suggested. You shrugged.

"Nah," you said, "I've got photo-ops in like, twenty minutes. I should actually probably get going. I'll catch up later!" 

You left with a wave, and disappeared into the hotel somewhere. You stopped in your room, allowing yourself finally to set free the coughs living in the back of your throat. You blamed it on your throat being dry since you didn't drink enough water. Not on germs. So, you grabbed two water bottles from the small fridge in your room, and left, making your way towards the convention center.

  You felt slightly better during photo-ops, which just confirmed in your mind that it was impossible that you were sick right now. You smiled and talked to everyone. There was one girl, who introduced herself as Meredith, who stuck out in your mind. She gave you this super cool hand painted keychain, which you very excitedly put on your keys instantly.

"Dude, I've been looking for a cool keychain. Not just one of those janky ones you find at like 7-11, like a cool one. This is so exciting." you smiled genuinely. You had just recently bought yourself a car, and thought that your keys looked a little lonely, and searched for hours on Etsy for something to spice it up a bit. A weird obsession, thinking about it now.

She laughed, "I'm glad you like it!"

"Hell, yeah! Now, are there any poses you wanna do? Or do you just want to hit that casual look? I could make it look like I'm meeting you." you stupidly rambled. One of your traits that was so widely known was how funny and awkward (in a good way) that you were. It took you a long time to get to that point, though, because you were always anxious about meeting others. You still are every now and then, but it's different here. 

"I was just hoping to get a hug." she said, "If that's okay with you." 

"Yeah, that's cool!" you wrapped your arms around each other and shot the camera a grin. The girl looked a bit confused. 

"Hey," she said, quietly, "are you like, okay? You feel really hot."

Nervously, you replied, "Oh, no, yeah totally fine. I'm just wearing two layers, and it's getting spicy in here."

"Yeah," she answered, "don't push yourself, okay?"

"I won't, thank you. It was really nice meeting you!" 

"You, too! Thanks!" she waved goodbye and you moved on to the last few people in line. She was right, though. You realized that you felt worse than you did when you walked in. You thought it had gone away for a while, but now it was just amplified. You noticed you were cold again, but that you were sweating as well. It must've just been the temperature in the room. These conventions aren't always able to keep a steady temp in the entire building, right?

This day, you didn't have much to do. Most of your events were on the other days to come. You had one panel in a few hours, and then a panel with Jared, Jensen, and Misha a few hours after that, and then bam, the day was over. You just had to get through those two events. Just two. 

Two, events. And both were an hour. So, two hours out of the day. Rookie work. Yet, as your panel approached, the headache had expanded from under your eyes to anywhere that there was space to hurt, your throat ached and so did your lungs from how much you were going off somewhere to cough in privacy, your body felt heavy, you couldn't tell if you were hot or cold at this point it was some weird combination of both, your stomach hurt just slightly, the world was moving around you a bit more than it usually would, and the fever you "didn't" have had climbed a degree, probably two. And, at some point during the day, you got pretty congested. You felt like you could just fall asleep at any moment. Jared and Jensen happened to be walking by where you had been waiting by yourself, away from any congoers or employees, and noticed that even though you were leaning against a wall, you somehow were still swaying.

"Y/N?" Jensen called out, worried. You heard him, you knew you were supposed to respond, but didn't know how. Maybe you did have a fever, and maybe you sort of let it out of control. It was like you were comprehending them, but not at the same time. You heard everything, but it just swept right through your feverish mind. The walked in front of you and examined you within seconds. You felt Jared's cold, really abnormally large man hand sweep your hair back and land on your forehead. 

"J, she's burning up." you felt another hand on your face. You, quite exhaustedly, swatted it away. They couldn't figure out how it'd gotten so bad so quickly. You were sick this morning, but not to this degree. They knew then that you had just shrugged it off all day, and your teenage fever brain probably didn't even think to take any kind of medicine or anything for it, even if you were trying to hide it.

"I'm good. Just tired. Fevers don’t exist." you finally mumbled, taking a few deep breathes, which you hadn't really been able to do in a bit without being rudely interrupted by a bone-shaking cough. It felt nice, almost. The boys sighed at you and shook their heads. 

"Y/N, you should go back to your room and get some rest. We can bring you some stuff that'll help." Jared suggested. You shook your head and opened your eyes, which somehow felt even heavier.

"Nah," you said to them, "I've got a panel, I think, in like, I ‘dunno, some minutes or something. Something I-" you pushed yourself off the wall to try and make your way somewhere, but stumbled a step or two, which result in Jensen and Jared instinctively to grab you in order to keep you steady.

"Like hell we're letting you go to that, Y/N, you can't even form a sentence, or stand for that matter. You're out of your mind. We're going to bring you back now, we'll take care of your panel thing." Jensen stated pretty sternly. You were about to fight back, and they could see it, but you coughed a few times, and they could almost feel it in their own chests. You just nodded in defeat.

"Yeah, maybe I could just like, sleep, for an hour or two." you whispered, tiredly. The two were still holding you steady, and could see you already falling asleep before even going anywhere. 

"Or six, by the looks of it." Jared joked lightly.

"Poor kid." Jensen said to Jared as the were walking out of your room. They helped you get there, and you were gone before you even saw the bed, "Why do they always have to pretend like they aren't sick? Look where it gets them."

"Don't know, man. You can't talk, though. You literally tell people you are immune to illness." Jared laughed quietly, shutting you door.

"Well I am. I am the perfect example of health. I don't get sick." 

"Yeah," Jared rolled his eyes, "Right. Watch you catch what Y/N has. You practically carried her all the way here. There's no way you're escaping it." Walking towards the center, the back way of course, Jensen scoffed, "Please, germs take one look at me and know not to mess this up. And, by the logic, that means you're already infected, too. So, tell me, princess, what sort of soup do you want spoon-fed?" 

Again, Jared rolled his eyes, and the two laughed. They weren't making fun of you, they were making fun of each other, and knew that you would've wanted in on that action.

"Y/N probably would've destroyed us if she heard that. Something along the longs of 'You want me to tuck you in? Carry you bridal style?'" Jared pitched his voice a tone higher for it. Again, the two men laughed.

They made their way backstage of what's supposed yo be your panel, and informed the crew about what was going on. They were just going to fill in for you, probably tell a few embarrassing stories.

When they made their way through the curtain, the crowd shouted. They were obviously excited to see the two leads, but also were obviously confused. "Alright, you're probably confused." Jensen stated the obvious, "Because obviously, we look nothing like Y/N, and thank God she does not look like us." The crowd laughed.

"Anyway, Y/N can't make it today. She's really sick-" the crowd cut Jared off with a unison "awe." People yelled out that they hoped she felt better, tell her to take care of herself, and so on.

"Yeah, poor kid looked like she was just going to fall asleep right where she was standing. She literally tried to come anyway, like, kid, you're making no sense. Y/N couldn't really fight against us, though, so she's sleeping now." Jensen explained, "So we came here to chat in her stead, but just know she really was planning on coming. That kid loves you guys." and again, the "awe" rolled through the crowd. 

"If she wasn't sick, she could totally kick both your-" the last word was cut off, but was implied anyway, someone screamed from the crowd, which resulted in laughter.

"Yeah, probably. Even if we were stronger than her," sarcastically, of course, "she'd still beat us. Kid's too fast, and I'm too old." Jared laughed.

In the last ten minutes of the panel, Jared decided to give you call. Not only to check in on you, but so you could at least say hi to your crowd. When you heard the phone ring, you groggily opened your eyes and aimlessly reached for it.

"Hello?" you answered. Jared almost frowned at how sick you sounded, even with just one word.

"Y/N?" Jensen stepped in, "It's Jensen."

"Unfortunate." you sighed exhaustedly. It was joke, a really tired one, but still enough to make the crowd laugh.

"We're here at your panel, we thought you might want to say hi." Jared said loudly, holding the speaker of his phone to the microphone. 

"Panel?" you asked. Panel? What panel? Your delirious mind was clearly confused, "Who's that?" 

"Y/N, the con. The convention panel?" Jensen actually sounded worried. They probably should've thought to give you some sort of medicine to do something about the fever you had before they'd left.

"Oh," you closed your eyes again, almost falling asleep, before remembering finally what it was they meant, and after a moment, "Oh! Crap, the panel thing, I'm late."

"No, Y/N, stay there, we've got it covered remember? You can't come. You can say hi to them, though." Jensen interjected quickly.

"Okay, hi guys." you just followed as told.

The crowd responded with a series of hello's. 

"'M really sorry. I hope they aren't boring you." the two men could practically hear you closing your eyes. The crowd responded in inaudible chatter. Jensen and Jared walked from the mic for a second.

"Sorry if we woke you, kid." Jared apologized, having just realized they probably could've left you alone, "W also just wanted to check in. See how you're doing."

"How are you feeling?" Jensen asked, but got a mumbled word in response, "Alright, well, just go back to sleep, we'll be up there soon." 

Jared hung up the phone, and the two began to answer the last few questions and close up. They waved their goodbyes to the crowd, and started heading back your way.

"Jensen, you got any over the counters with you? Thermometers or anything? All I've got is Advil, and I don't even know what's really bothering her yet other than that cough and being tired."

"Yup. Danneel always makes me carry literally an entire medicine cabinet, just for these moments. I'll go get 'em and meet you there. It'd probably do her some good to eat something, too. I don't know if she's got like, a stomach virus thing going on, though." Jensen answered.

"I'll see what she'll say and let you know." 

The two parted ways, and Jared made his way to you. Even though he'd only talked to you just a few minutes before, you were dead to the world by the time he opened the door. The room was boiling, and Jared looked over to the thermostat to see that you'd at some point put it on to 90 degrees. 

"Jesus, Y/N, I know you've got a fever, but damn." he said, more so to himself than to you. He looked over at you after turning it down to see you curled beneath what looked like any blanket you could find. He came over and started removing the blankets slowly, and shook you gently to wake you up.

"Y/N, wake up for a minute, it's Jared."

"'Mm." was all you said, until you realized your layers of warmth had been moved, "What're doing? It's cold."

"Y/N, you're dripping in sweat. It's the fever making you cold."

"I don't have a fever." you retorted, "I'm good. Just tired."

"Kid, you've been tired the whole day. You've been sleeping this whole time." he tried rationalizing.

"I have?" you questioned, closing you eyes again. Jared put his hand to your forehead again. Somehow, it was warmer than the first time he'd done it before the panel. It was then that Jensen finally appeared, a whole bag of things in hand, "Could you bring the thermometer over?"

"Yeah, gotcha." He walked over and rummaged through the bag at the same time, pulling out a thermometer.

"Y/N, we need to take your temperature." Jensen said.

"No need." you said, "'M not sick."

"You are so obviously sick, I'm not asking." again with that stern voice. Jared gave him a "Hey, she's sick, back off a little" sort of look, but it had worked, and you let them take your temp. They were almost shocked when the thing beeped at 103.

"Should we take her to a hospital? That's way too high." Jared asked. 

"If it gets any higher, yes, but let's see if we can bring it down first." Jensen replied.

"No hospitals." you demanded, opening your eyes and glaring at them. 

"We aren't bringing you yet, Y/N, but I need you to eat this so you can take some meds." he held out two pieces of toast that he must've brought from his room. You hated toast even when you weren't sick.

"I'm not really hungry." 

"I know, but it'll help. You haven't told us what's bothering you yet, either." Jared responded.

"Nothing's-" you coughed a few times, a bit violently, "bothering me." "We can see that." Jensen said sarcastically.

"Everything's bothering me." you whispered, giving up.

"Your stomach hurt?" Jensen asked. You waved your hand from side to side to signal a so-so, "Think you'll get sick at all?"

"No, it's not like that, I don't think." you breathed out, another cough escaping you. You took a few bites out of the toast. It made you uncomfortable, but it was then that you realized you probably felt that way since you really hadn't eaten much that day or the one before, which probably contributed to the splitting headache. It didn't go away after, either though. You pushed yourself up. You almost fell over, but Jared put a hand out for you.

"Alright, good. Take this. I'm going to be frank, it tastes disgusting." Jensen handed over a small cup of liquid, "Sometimes, if you take it like a shot, it helps. But you shouldn't know how to take shots, but if you do it, I won't judge." And so you did, causing the two to chuckle slightly at you. 

"You were right, about the sleep thing." you slumped back onto the bed heavily, like a brick.

"When am I ever wrong?" Jensen asked, "Don't answer that, actually."

But you were already sleeping again, and the boys decided to stay nearby for now. The next panel wasn't for another few hours anyway, and they just didn't want you to be alone. Also, incase you were wrong about the toast, and it decided to make its return. Jared's phone began to ring loudly, to which he very quickly tried to answer so his obnoxious ringtone wouldn't wake you up again, not that you wouldn't have just fallen back asleep anyway.

"Misha? Hey, what's up?" Jared answered. Jensen walked over to hear what was going on on the other side of the line, but Jared just decided to put it on speaker.

"Where are you guys? I haven't seen you all day. Felicia, Alex, and I are going out for lunch, we were wondering if you guys want to come. I tried calling Y/N, but she didn't answer, so." he rambled.

"That's because Y/N's not feeling well." Jensen said, giving him a solution to his predicament of not being answered, "We're with her right now, so we'll have to pass."

"She's sick? Is she okay?" 

"Yeah, I think so. She's just got this crazy fever we've been trying to bring down. Thinking about it now, Jensen, we should probably check it again." 

"A fever?"

"It's been at 103 degrees for like, two hours. At least for what we know of. She's probably had one all day, but as a dumb teenager does, she just tried to ignore it." 

"If it goes up you should-"

"Yeah, we know," Jared said, "we're trying really hard to avoid that, though. Also, she'll definitely fight against it, I don't know." 

Jensen, from the other side of the room at the sound of a beeping thermometer, could be heard on Misha's end, "It went down, finally. 102.2."

"Thank God, I was getting worried."

"Should I come there? Do you guys need any help?" Misha asked.

"I mean you can, but I think we're good. She's just been trying to sleep it off the whole time, so not much is really going on." Jensen was closer to the phone now, "Like, she's got this cough, a headache, and you can hear how congested she sounds, but mostly I think she's just exhausted. I honestly don't know how because she's just been sleeping for hours."

"Fatigue."

"Yeah, poor kid. I don't think I've ever seen her so tired, it almost makes me tired to be honest." Jensen joked.

"Maybe you're just getting sick." Jared slipped in.

"Not possible. I am immune."

"Nobody is immune, Jensen." Misha sighed.

"I'm not nobody." he shrugged. 

"Alright, well, we're going to get lunch then. If you need anything let me know, and tell her I hope she feels better." Misha concludes.

"We will, thanks Misha." and with that, Jared hung up. For a few more hours, the two hung around. They were there when you woke from some fever dreams, and when you needed a cough drop, or twelve, and wake you up every now and then to check your temperature, which raised and dropped and raised and dropped, but currently was at a very steady 102.4. But, soon enough, it was time for them to leave for the last panel of the day, and unsurprisingly, you tried to follow suit.

"Y/N, we gotta go, but we'll be back in about an hour from the panel." Jared said. You took a deep breath and sluggishly pushed yourself to the side of the bed. Having been sick, and not having sat up in a few hours, the blood rushed from your head, leaving you dizzy.

"What're you doing?" Jensen asked.

"The panel. I missed the last one I should go to this one. I feel okay." you yawned, then coughed slightly.

"Y/N, really, you shouldn't even think about pushing it like that." Jared said. Jensen walked over to you, half on the bed, clearly trying to steady yourself just from the movement of sitting up. The spinning room honestly almost made the toast make a reprise, and you hiccupped, and held your breath.

"Hey," Jensen grabbed a can quickly, noticing, "are you going to be sick?"

Giving it a minute, it went away, and you shook you head no, causing a huge tension to leave the room.

"Alright, well, remember how you said I was right all the time earlier?" Jensen pun the can down.

"No, must've been the fever." you half joked, causing Jared to laugh. 

"Alright- well- okay, shut up. We agreed I'm always right, and that I was right about needing sleep, so I say you need some more." Jensen demanded rather than suggested. 

"Yeah, or at least lay around and do nothing. I can't imagine ever sleeping as much as you just did." Jared joked, pushing you very gently back down, with his hand on your back, knowing you would just hit the bed without it. Your eyes were heavy again, and your throat was painfully dry, and you coughed. Your aching head also agreed with the two of them to your dismay.

"Maybe just a bit more." you mumbled, "A few minutes."

"Yeah a few minutes, sure." Jared smiled, knowing you were probably going to knock out for a few hours once again. You opened your eyes again.

"You think," you coughed, "that they'll be mad?

"Who?" Jensen asked.

Feeling pretty sick, you said, "That I don't go? I don’t feel really good."

Ah, the fever comes to play once again, it seems, but the two felt some sort of triumph now that you've at least admitted to being sick, even if it's been hours. It concerned them, though, if you felt bad enough to admit it.

"No, they'll be fine about it. We'll be back soon. Misha or Alex might come in to check on you, alright?" Jared answered, to which you nodded.

They weren't gone long. You spent half the next day sleeping, too, until you could stand without swaying. You did sneak back to the con, against Jensen and Jared's orders, since you really didn't break that fever and cough for a few more days, only to be caught after a tweet of you at the con was trending and the cast caught wind of it. But, eventually, you were better, and got the chance to help Jared take care of an "always immune" Jensen. And he was more stubborn than you were.

[mrs-harkness]

Run To Me (Part 4)

Pairing: Diane Sherman x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 2.5k

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

TW: Brief mention of vomiting. I don’t want anyone getting triggered, so I would rather be overly cautious!

A/N: If you would like to be on a tag list for this fic, please add a comment below or shoot me a message! Excited about the next chapter, things are coming. Again thank you for the love. I am having so much fun writing this and it means even more when you have people who enjoy reading it!

Even though it had been four whole days since the accident, you were not feeling better. Diane had said that the day after was supposed to be the worst, but it seemed like you felt weaker each day. Diane was keeping a close eye on you though, making sure you weren't running a fever and that the road rash and cuts weren't getting worse. She said if you got any weaker, she would bring you to the local urgent care to make sure something serious wasn't going on.

Though you weren't feeling well, you enjoyed the days spent with Diane in the quiet little house, just the two of you. You had learned a lot about each other in the past few days, developing a routine with one another that always ended the day with a cup of that nasty ass tea, but deep and sweet conversation.

You hadn't gone into too much detail about your past quite yet, about your mother or father or what it was like in the foster home. You shared mainly surface level things and funny memories that were light hearted. You knew the heavier stuff would be discussed eventually. Although you were choosing to keep the painful memories of your past to yourself for the time being, Diane had opened to you almost immediately.

You found out she didn't have parents either, her mother dying when she was a child and she was married when she was very young, to an abusive husband that left her for another woman only a year and a half into the marriage. Soon after she found out she was pregnant and she decided to not reach out to her ex-husband and to just raise the baby on her own. Unfortunately she developed high blood pressure and delivered the baby too soon, and she died in Diane's arms before she even had time to discuss options. Her name was Chloe and Diane chose to live a quiet life after that. She moved to Washington only a few years ago and put herself into teaching, science, and her garden. She always wanted a child, but she was just never able have one again.

When she told you that, your heart broke for her. Of course she was so willing to take you home with her. She was lonely! She had promised to take care of you, but you knew as soon as you were back on your feet, you were going to try and care for her too. In whatever way she would let you. You weren't Chloe, and you could never be Chloe, but you could love her with all your heart.

It had been another rough day, as you had suddenly developed a bad headache and had felt queasy for most of it. You didn't really eat much of your dinner, pushing it around your plate. You didn't want to tell Diane you had vomited up breakfast. If she knew you were barely keeping things down, she may get worried.

Diane cleared the plates from the table and brought them to the sink. She noticed you didn't eat more than a few bites. She didn't say anything but turned to you and smiled.

"How about you go ahead and sit on the couch? I'll be there in just a minute," she said quietly. Her voice had seemed to grow more gentle towards you each day.

You smiled wearily and went to the living room, lazily sitting down on the couch. It could have only been a few minutes, but you somehow managed to fall asleep. You were constantly tired and wanting to nap. Diane said it was a good sign because it meant your body was trying to heal itself.

You were woken up by the couch dipping under Diane's weight. You opened your eyes and saw her smiling at you, holding a bowl of something brown. It smelled sweet and you looked at her suspiciously.

"What's that? No tea tonight?" you asked, hopeful.

Diane chuckled and pulled out two spoons, sticking it into the bowl.

"No, no tea tonight. I don't want you to get too much of those herbs and vitamins. And this, it's brownie batter. Me and my friends as teenagers would make a bowl of it and eat it as we talked about boys and school and our dreams," she said, picking up a spoon and licking off the chocolate from it.

You couldn't help but smile as you took a spoon and licked at it cautiously. You had never had the stuff and it was intoxicating. You shoved the whole spoon in your mouth, ready to inhale the entire bowl.

Diane laughed and pulled the bowl towards her.

"Alright, alright speedy... don't eat it too fast. You'll get sick."

You forced yourself to go slower, but the moment Diane turned around you would be sure to put as much of it in your mouth that would fit. This was worth getting sick over. Diane stared at you, drinking up the image of you enjoying the treat she had brought.

"You know," Diane hummed, "I always thought I'd do this one day with my daughter. Make it a tradition and she'd tell me her secrets and we would be best friends."

You're heart ached in your chest. You knew she meant Chloe and you knew she would rather her be on the couch than you. Suddenly the batter didn't taste as sweet. You put the spoon into the bowl and left it there. You looked up at Diane and saw she was almost beaming at you though.

"I'm glad I get to do it with you," she said, picking up the spoon with her other hand and letting you eat off it.

You felt really confused, but happy at the same time. You knew you weren't her daughter, but sometimes the way she said things or looked at you, it was like she wanted you to be. As if that's how she saw you. You weren't sure if you saw her as a mother though, you didn't really know what that felt like. It was complex for you.

"So, Y/n, tell me. What did you do with your friends? Did you have any special traditions with the girls?" Diane asked, eating another spoon of the batter, it dripping onto her lips.

It broke you from your anxious thoughts and had you now thinking about your past. It wasn't that much better but at least it would keep you talking.

"Well, I really wasn't in one place long enough to make any traditions with my friends. But me and my foster sister, the one who lives in town, we would go and sneak out of our group home and head to the woods behind it. The woods had fireflies in them and we would go see the 'light shows' and talk about a bunch of different things. What our families could have been like, what we were going to do when we aged out, the issues we had at the home."

You remembered those nights fondly, some of the few good memories you had growing up. You wondered if there were any woods in the area and if they had fireflies. Maybe you could go and see a 'light show' for old times sake. You would ask your sister when you saw her. But you needed to call her first.

"Uh Diane, could I possibly use your phone?"

Diane suddenly stiffened, the spoon thudding back into the batter. Her face seemed to harden just for a moment before quickly returning to the warm look she often gave you. It took her a moment to respond, making the air between you thick for some reason.

"Sure. Are you okay?" she said, her voice sounding concerned.

She seemed like she was worried and you wondered if she thought she had upset you.

"Oh yeah! I'm fine. I just actually wanted to call my sister and let her know I made it here and that I'm safe and see when she wanted to meet up," you said in a confident tone, hoping to ease her mind.

Her face seemed to twitch and she swallowed hard, clearing her throat. She smiled at you though and you just shrugged off her strange reaction. She pointed to the kitchen where the phone hung on the wall. Diane had phones with chords still in her house, which you found charming, but also a little inconvenient that you couldn't step outside.

"You're welcome to call your foster sister," she said, saying the word 'foster' strangely, "I'm going to go upstairs and get ready for bed to give you some privacy."

She smiled at you and brushed your hair behind your ear before getting up and heading to her room. You waited until you could no longer hear her footsteps before leaning over the brownie bowl and quickly stuffing your mouth with as much batter as you could. As soon as you swallowed it all, you realized you may have made a mistake, but you could regret it later.

You walked over to the phone and pressed the buttons to the number you had memorized by heart. You felt nervous suddenly even though nothing had changed and you had just talked to her a week ago. Your heart race increased with each ringer, anxious to hear her voice.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice on the other side of the phone croaked.

"Mandy? Mandy, its Y/n."

There was some rustling on the other side of the line and you were pretty sure you had woken Mandy up, but you knew she wouldn't mind.

"Hey! I was wondering when I would hear from you. I was a little worried. You were supposed to call me like two days ago," she yawned.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I had a little set back. But I'm here in town and I'm staying with a woman I met-"

Mandy cut you off with a very obnoxious "Ooooohhhhhh!"

"Shut up. It's not like that. She's just a really good friend that I was lucky enough to meet. Now before you say anything else stupid, when and where do you want to meet?"

Mandy chuckled on the other end. She knew you hated being picked on and anytime she sensed even the possibility of making you uncomfortable, she had to crack a joke.

"Well, I have class tomorrow, but I am free after lunch. There is a nice little coffee shop book store on Howard. You can meet me there at like 2PM. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah, that's perfect. I can't wait. I've missed you so much Mandy," you said, tears prickling at your eyes.

"I've missed you too lighting bug. So tell me, who is this lady you are-"

Suddenly Mandy's voice cut off. You pulled the phone away from your ear, not even hearing a dial tone. You messed with the phone for a moment before realizing the line was dead.

"Diane?" you called out, sticking your head around the corner.

Diane was right there, breathing heavy as if she had been running. She startled you and you stared at her, mindlessly passing the phone to her.

"Your phone line went dead," you mumbled.

Diane put the phone to her ear and pressed a few buttons before hanging up.

"I'll call the phone company in the morning. Sometimes someone hits a line and the whole thing goes dead. Were you able to call your friend though?" she asked, leaning against the wall.

You noticed she said friend this time, but you brushed it off. She didn't know the bond you and Mandy shared.

"Yes! I did. I'm going to meet her tomorrow for lunch."

Diane didn't hid her discomfort this time.

"Y/n, I don't think that's a good idea. You're still very weak. You didn't even eat dinner. I don't think you should go out by yourself. Maybe I should go with-"

"No. It's okay. I'll be fine for a couple of hours. I won't be running a marathon, just having a coffee with my sister."

You wanted to spend time with Mandy by yourself and while you appreciated the thought of Diane going with you, you were still an adult no matter how young you looked. It didn't help that at the moment the brownie batter was now fighting against you and you were hunched over slightly.

"Well maybe consider letting me drive you to town? I need to run some errands anyway so I can drive you and that way if you feel like you need to lay down or rest I wouldn't be far."

You would need a ride to town, but you just weren't sure.

"Let me sleep on it. I hate to think I would be using you just for a ride. And-" before you could finish, you start having a coughing fit. Coughing was nothing new to you thanks to the asthma, but this wasn't that. This was the batter.

You tried to keep it down, but it was too late. You threw up, all over yourself, all over the floor, and even on Diane's slippers. You expelled everything you had eaten that day and more and it took a moment before you stopped gagging, laying in a ball on the floor.

Suddenly fear over took you as you saw yourself and the floor covered in vomit. You know your mom would be so mad when she saw it and you would get punished. You didn't want to be punished. You began to cry and you scooted away until your body hit the wall.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to," you cried. You forgot where you were and suddenly you were back at home. You didn't like going back.

Diane quickly ran over to you, not phased by the vomit and held you in her arms. You fought her off at first but she shooshed you and smoothed your hair, holding you close to her. She knew a flashback when she saw one. She held you and whispered in your ear. It took a moment but eventually you came back to present day. You still felt sick, you now smelled awful, your head hurt, and you were embarrassed. For the first time since you had met Diane, you felt tears prickle you eyes and instead of hiding them, you let them flow.

You cried in Diane's arms as she rocked you back in forth, and you apologized over and over again. You weren't sure if you were saying sorry because you had thrown up on her or if it was because she lost her daughter or because you were the mess of a person she felt fate brought her. She kissed your head and took your face in her hands. She wiped your tears with the pads of her thumb and looked at you with tears in her eyes too.

"Hey. It's okay. Stop apologizing. You're safe now Y/n."

She pulled you back to her chest again and wrapped her arms around you tight as if she would never let you go.

"I've got you," she whispered, over and over.

"I've got you, and I'm not letting go."

[rose-blooms-red]

@universes-mystery you are a menace to society and I am in....so much pain

anyways, long story short, I have been convinced to make an updated fic post thingy after someone went through my blog and made me look at my old fics :’) 

So!! uhh yeah Ro Fic Hype Post take 2 lmao, i have too many fics at this point so im just gonna link some that made me happy or just that i remember having a grand time writing.

Star Wars

“Be the Rarepair content you want to see in the world”: Listing all the ones from this series would take too long. Just know that these were all a joy to write and that there is a Large Variety lol.

not something that you put to bed: my first foray into soft wars! lmao, i was super nervous with this one lol but I do still like it more than i usually like my fics! And i was happy with how this one came out. It’s Edee squad centric, specifically Neyo and Fox interaction and yeah, there’s a reason i joke that my brand is trauma recovery dkjfskjdf.

don’t break the bottle: my second go at soft wars and I do still like this one, it’s Cody and Neyo centric, around Cody getting Neyo’s pledge and dealing with leftover stuff from Priest’s training. There’s things i’d def try and do better but, its nice and not as bad as i feared nkjdfjnd.

sins of the father: this is a second person Boba Fett character study and I do actually still adore it. it kicked off it’s own series actually, that I cowrite with @graaaaceeliz and has expanded far past what i thought would be just a tiny little oneshot to put my boba and jango feelings. It was a fun adventure into writing in a writing perspective i dont use much and helped me get a bit of a grasp on both Boba and Jango

and the whisper in your head goes quiet: another 2nd person Boba fic, made people mad at me jdfnsjkf. Includes the hc that Boba had a chip and it malfunctioned and Jango had the Kaminoans remove it.

the hum in the air (and the gentle love): was really nice to write and i do still love how soft it is,though there are things i’d def change. It’s a soft little codywan oneshot with poetry.

gentling the edges: Neyo and babies, im just...so soft, there is so much soft

little darling: Fox and babies, because i am so soft still over babies and the older clones okay.

you will be alone, always: was a fun one, made some people cry lol. Obi-Wan centric, canon compliant, with hints of QP Codywan.

love or the lack of it: Bly and Neyo centric, lots of fun to write lol. Soft wars, and im still quite pleased with it. a bit heavy, heed the tags.

the art of the mind: Soft wars, Jet and Bacara Centric. i loved exploring them more honestly, i kinda wanna do something else with them.

Messing around in the soft wars sandbox: now that i think about it, just linking this series might be better XD a lot of the next few I was going to put are from here. It’s basically just all fics set within the Soft War’s AU by @thefoundationproject lol

(give me) something soft: one of my first fics in the Star wars fandom, It’s Kix/Agen and I’m still super soft over this pairing and writing this made me v soft.

the burning heat upon my back: another one of my first few fics in the star wars fandom, It’s an Anakin introspection type piece as I was trying to figure out how to write him and getting settled in the fandom.

like a lazy ocean (hugs the shore): Wingfic, Kit Fisto centric, hinted possible kit/monnk. This was just hilarious to write lmao.

calm your mind and quell your fears: Wingfic, Obi-Wan centric, soft, QP Codywan fluff.

name the child innocence: was fun, Wingfic, Jango Fett centric, it’s a lot heavier than the other wingfics tho, so heed the tags.

childhood (strong and full of foreboding): apparently i really like doing explorations on trauma and how the past can shape you and how you can shape yourself in spite of the past and things like that kjdsnkjsdf. It’s told in various Clone’s p.o.v and switches between Anakin and Obi-Wan’s Not Fun Childhoods.

hold your heart (be still): Ahsoka and Rex bonding! set in the same universe as childhood!

DC

the art of siblings is that sometimes you just wanna fight them: A lot of fun lol, batfam centric, the kids being Themselves and Dick is Exasperated lol

we lay here (for years or for hours): which is an introspection and sort of character study on dick that throws out any semblance of timeline or canon. trigger warnings for depressive and suicidal thought and major character injury

setting fire to our insides for fun (to distract our hearts from ever missing them): in which dick is sad, bruce is gone, and dick really just wants his dad, his sleep-deprived mind decides to be kind, because the world is not, this one made me sad

i have tried to hoard your love (and found it slipping through my fingers): a look at Jason and books, and the complex thing that is a childs need to be loved

fault lines: A fic about recovery and the difficulties, or; Dick Grayson and trauma, recovery, and his siblings. Something’s wrong with all of them but they work through it, eventually.

this one is a rough ride, still a WIP and it deals with a lot of heavy topics, flashbacks, trauma and discussions of the trauma, deaths, injuries, rape, broken relationships and dysfunctional ones, borderline abusive behaviour, talks about all of the above, and the healing process. Tread lightly with this one as it deals with heavy topics in it’s quest to say fuck you to certain dc writers.

Bnha

Shock: Kaminari feels, The dangers of electric quirks

Flicker: The Todoroki’s deserve better, Dabi is an angry child who misses his mama

All I’ve Ever Known: Genfic, Dabi is Touya, Fuck gender, Chronic pain, Touya/Dabi needs help

We go down swinging, My lovers and I: Shigadabihawks, Major Character Death, not a happy one folks.

[halstudandruz]

More Than Anything

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Greg Gerwitz (Mouse) x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Mouse meets his baby for the first time

Warnings: None

A/N: Fun fact, I’ve been obsessed with the name Halston for years before I even knew any Halsteads existed. Also, protective Jay in this gif does things to me.

Having your first baby was hard. It was nothing like you imagined as a kid. You had married Mouse right before he decided to re-enlist. You hadn’t planned for a baby, but you had both gotten pretty drunk at his going away party and you would admit you weren’t always careful with protection. So, you weren’t that shocked to see the plus sign appear on the test. However, that did not calm your nerves in the least bit. You knew you were going to have to do this alone, and it was not going to be as you always hoped. Instead of doing a cute announcement for your husband you had to tell him over a computer with spotty internet not even able to take in his reaction as the picture lagged every two seconds. Mouse’s best friend, Jay or your best friend, Kim having to accompany you to doctor’s appointments instead of your own husband. Relying on Jay to help you put the nursery together, or more realistically supervisioring Jay as he put the nursery together. Having to decide on a name through multiple letters instead of on the couch with a baby name book. Enduring the few fights you’d be sure to have over a couple. If you had a late night craving? You had to fix it yourself. Kim volunteered to stay with you a week before your due date, not wanting you to go into labor alone. The happiest moment of your life was also accompanied by an overwhelming sense of sadness and loneliness.

If you thought the pregnancy was difficult being essentially a “single” parent was even harder. You swore your daughter cried more than she didn’t. You had plenty of people offering to help, but you were exhausted. Having to go back to work was a whole other obstacle. Struggling significantly with finding a good enough daycare you felt you could trust without Mouse’s input. You showed Halston his picture everyday. A little nervous of their first meeting. Knowing Greg would be freaking out a little despite his calm composure he would be sure to show on the outside. What if she somehow triggered him? What if her crying was too loud? Too much? These thoughts only heightened your anxiety.

And when the day finally arrived the swirl of emotions running through you was unbearable. You had gotten notice that Greg would be going on leave not too long before and you were just happy that he would be home before her first year of life had passed. Jay stood at your side, 7 month Halston resting in his arms, who was contently observing everyone hurriedly moving around her. You bounced on your heels, hands clasped together ready to attack your husband as soon as your eyes met his face. Jay’s hand landed on your shoulder squeezing it tightly.

“It’s going to be fine. Calm down.”

“I’m worried.” You admitted looking up at him and over to your daughter whose hands were tightly tangled in the front of Jay’s shirt undoubtedly stretching it out.

“I know, but I promise. It’s all going to be okay.” He pulled you into a side hug hand resting on your back as he let you work through your own thoughts for the next few minutes.

Mind going blank as soon as you witnessed Mouse walking towards you. Reaching him in a few strides he caught you in a hug, bag dropping to the floor beside him. You were silent for a few seconds just enjoying each other’s embrace before Mouse kissed your head, setting you back on your feet.

“I missed you so much.” He sighed, cradling your face in his hands as he leaned down to give you a hard kiss. Pulling away his gaze drifted over your shoulder swallowing hard before looking back down at you,

“Is that her?” He asked causing you to roll your eyes,

“No, Jay’s just holding some random baby. Yes, that’s her!” You exclaimed grinning as you pulled his hand towards the two. Mouse took slow steps appearing a few inches away while a look of awe took over his face.

“Can I hold her?” He asked, looking at Jay nerves getting the best of him, making his voice shake.

“Did you really just ask me if you can hold your own kid?” Jay teased with a smirk on his face.

“I really did not miss you two.” He sighed a small smile on his lips.

“Not what you just said.” You shrugged watching as Mouse carefully took Halston from Jay’s arms treating her like a china doll as he brought her closer to his body. He looked down at Halston while she looked up at him with big eyes, bottom lip quivering a few seconds later. When he realized this Mouse began to panic,

“Hey, baby girl it’s me, daddy.” He explained moving to rock her on his hip. She moved to reach for Jay forcing Jay to step behind you pretending like she wasn’t reaching for her dad’s best friend instead of her own father. The tears that had welled up in Halston’s eyes began to fall accompanied by a loud cry. Mouse’s expressions soon turned to sadness, “it’s okay sweetheart I got you. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I love you so much.” Mouse choked out visible tears starting to appear at the corner of his eyes that he attempted to blink away as the crying got more insistent. “Okay okay, let's go back to Uncle Jay it’s alright.” He gave in holding her out to him.

“Greg I don’t-“ He started before Mouse interrupted him.

“Please.” He whispered as Jay nodded, taking his goddaughter back into his arms, which almost immediately calmed her as she stuck her face by his neck. At the realization you could see your husband’s sadness and guilt take over his whole body, practically breaking your heart into pieces.

“Greg-“ You reached for him but he took a step back.

“I’m going to go get my other bag, I’ll meet you in the car.” He faked a small smile stepping forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead before turning around and walking away from you, shoulders significantly more slumped.

————

“Thank you for coming along.” You thanked Jay as you took Halston out of her car seat. Mouse had barely said a word the whole way home. Which only concerned you more.

“Anytime. I’m glad you’re home safe brother.” Jay clapped Mouse on the shoulder.

“Yeah thanks man. I’ll call you later?” Mouse pulled Jay into a tight hug before getting out to grab his bags and follow behind you into your house. Jay yelling a goodbye to the three of you before pulling out. The air around you was tense. This is not how you wanted this to go.

“Well it’s time for baby girl’s nap or she’s going to get real cranky soon.” You informed him.

“Take after her mom?” He joked, but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m going to make her a bottle. Could you take her up?” You urged moving to hand her to him cautiously.

“Actually I think I should unpack some of this stuff if I don’t start now you know how I put it off.” He shrugged, moving to pick a bag up.

“Greg.” You scolded, making him stop his action and look up at you. “Take her.” You ordered.

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He sighed standing up straight again.

“What do you mean it’s not a good idea? She's your daughter in case you forgot.” You huffed.

“I didn’t but it sure seems like she has.” He replied.

“Baby, I get that this has to be hard for you, but you can’t just avoid it. I’ve done this for 7 months alone, and I would really appreciate the help.” You explained hoisting Halston back up on your hip where her head fell on your shoulder eyes getting heavier.

“She doesn’t like me.” He chewed his bottom lip nervously.

“She doesn’t know you, honey. She hated Jay at first too, but I mean to be fair can you blame her? Don’t we all?” You joked earning a small chuckle from him. Shaking his head he held his arms out to take her from you. After being placed securely in his arms Halston started to whimper. Taking a deep breath Mouse began to soothe her, “I’ll meet you up there.” You smiled before heading to the kitchen to get her drink. You knew he could calm her; he just had to be given the chance. You could hear Mouse’s footsteps against the staircase as you busied yourself with making a bottle taking a few extra minutes thank you normally would. You hadn’t heard any loud wails from Halston or your husband so you atleast took that as a good sign. Walking up the staircase in sight of the nursery you stood outside to see Mouse rocking in the chair, Halston rested against his chest as she fumbled with the dog tags hanging from his neck. Standing back out of view you leaned against the wall to hear your husband’s voice,

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here. That I wasn’t here to see you come into the world, but I hope you know how much I love you. More than I could ever put into words. I can only hope I’ll be here to watch you grow up. To see you become a smart, brave, beautiful little girl that is sure to take after her mom. She’s incredible isn’t she? Together we are going to give you everything we have, Halston. I promise.” He kissed her head lightly watching her eyes grow heavier fingers tightly wrapped around the tags, “also while I’m at it I’d just like to point out I’m cooler than your Uncle Jay. You may not know it right now, but I definitely am.” He teased making you laugh as you entered the room.

“He is pretty cool.” You smiled walking towards them.

“She stopped crying.” He whispered to you a smile on his face.

“You know she looks so much like you.” You said hand resting on the back of his neck, “I think that’s what helped me most through the last 7 months. Being able to look at her and see you.”

“I don’t know. She has your eyes and that cute little nose of hers is all you.” He smirked.

“Is it finally hitting you that you’re a dad?” You asked looking down at your daughter who was taking deep breaths now, eyes closed.

“Yeah, and it’s kinda the best feeling in the world.” He answered.

It might take Halston a little to warm up to him, but you had no doubt when she did she wouldn’t want to leave his side.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Stay Safe Part Five: Dark Past

Fandom: The Mandalorian [Star Wars]

Pairing: Eventual Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: At last, broskis! We have come to what is arguably my favorite episode thus far. I hope this installment is to your satisfaction. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @toxiicpop @helplessly-nonstop @culturalrebel @literal-fand0m-trash @sinnamon-bunn @fioccodineveautunnale @hxldmxdxwn @lizajane3 @thewaythisis @nellyneko @absurdthirst

Part One: Should Have Known Better

Part Two: Tranquil Turmoil

Part Three: Vibroblade Mettle

Part Four: Reaching Out

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to PTSD, and vividly vague mentions of past trauma. Stay safe!]

"The worst possible thing has finally happened." You announced, thumping your head against the empty shelf. "We're all out of the nutrient paste. Y'know, the good one." You glanced over at the armored man, who was currently sorting through another one of his many crates. "This is the end. I'll have to go back to aurelac mining just to eke out a living." You continued, dramatically slumping to the floor. 

You were only half-joking, of course. The variety of food was waning, but at least there was still sustenance to be had. The real issue was credits, or the lack thereof. Nutrient paste wouldn't buy repairs.

"No. No mining. I need all my appendages." The Mandalorian mumbled, his mind clearly elsewhere. He roused himself after a moment, looking over at you. "It's not that bad, we still have some reserves." He said, gesturing vaguely at the small pile of dented cans and faded-looking tubes beside him on the deck. "I'll...I'll get in touch with someone."

"It's too late for us, my metalline companion. You must...take the child…"

"You keep these antics up and I'll sell you to the Hutts." The Mandalorian teased, reaching out to squeeze your chin playfully. "Bet they'd offer me good credits for you, what with your strong back and skills with the younglings." You could hear his smile and your heart tripped a little.

"You would sell me?!" You gasped, pretending to reel with shock. "This betrayal will not stand. Avenge me, child!" You flung a hand out towards the baby, who stared at it for several seconds wide-eyed before proceeding to gnaw gently on your index. "There, you see that? They are swearing a blood oath to free me from your cruelty."

"Uh huh." The Mandalorian didn't sound particularly convinced, his hand still cupping your chin. For whatever reason, you got the impression that he was mulling something over in his mind. Something a little heavier than your lighthearted joking with the child.

"Are you alright?" You asked softly after a minute, putting your hand over his own.  

He started at the sound of your voice, jerking his gauntlet away like your touch had burned him. You tried not to let it get to you. It might be that he just didn't like being touched; it was entirely within his right to shy away.

"I'm...yeah." He assured you, grabbing the lip of the crate to haul himself upright with a grunt. "There's just--it's complicated. I've got an idea, I don't know…" he trailed off.

"What's the problem? Talk to me, maybe I can help."

Instead of answering, the man headed up the ladder into the cockpit. You dusted your knees off and hoisted the child, clambering up the ladder one-handed in pursuit of the armored man.

The Mandalorian had apparently begun calculating new coordinates, the sextant whirring to life as he cycled through the charts. "We're going to see an old friend of mine." He announced from his position in the pilot's seat.

"Why do I feel like you don't mean an actual friend?" The armored man yet again didn't deign to answer you immediately and you groaned, setting the child down on the co-pilot seat and stretching your arms out over your head. 

"He owes me a favor."

"Mm, what kind?"

"The kind that I can get payment out of." The Mandalorian said curtly.

"You don't seem to be too excited to visit this friend of yours."

"Things have changed since the last time we worked together." His words were quiet, contemplative. "There were...a lot of jobs I did back then that I wouldn't touch now."

It hadn't occurred to you that he had fallen into bounty hunting as a cleaner occupation. What could he have been involved in that made collecting dangerous, often violent criminals for a living seem like the better career path? Maker, you wanted to ask, the curiosity burned at you. But if you had learned anything about the stoic man in the time that you had spent traveling together, it was that he only spoke when he saw fit to. 

"I want you and the kid in the bunk for the duration of these negotiations." He muttered after several minutes of silence. "These are rough people and I don't need any distractions."

He didn't mention Calican by name and you were grateful for that much. It stung a little that he still considered you a distraction after that tense standoff. Nuisance. You nodded all the same, focused on the floor plating. "I understand." 

You could say that you did, anyway.

Fake it 'til you make it, I guess.

...

You got the feeling that something may have gone a bit funny in the negotiations. The Mandalorian hadn't mentioned anything about having to use his own ship for the job.

You could hear muffled voices on the other side of the bunk's shutter, and you had departed the station ages ago. Where were you headed?

There was a sudden, hollow rattle from the outside. Beskar. He had moved quickly, for whatever reason. It was a strange comfort to know that he wasn't in the cockpit, but here in the hold keeping an eye on the individuals he was working with. Though that begged the question of who might be piloting the craft.

Something large struck the wall beside the shutter with a dull boom, the impact making you jump. What were they doing out there? You moved your eyes from the wall back down to the child, who had just rolled their ball to you yet again.

Another impact, and this time there was a loud beep! That was the lock for the retractor on the bunk hatch, which meant--

The bunk shutter slid up into the ceiling, revealing yourself and the baby sitting on the bed. You paused mid-motion, raising an imperious eyebrow at the motley crew of characters that filled the hold. 

An eternal second passed where a bald human man, a Twi'lek woman, a large Devaronian and the Mandalorian just...gawked at you.

"Sweetheart, you didn't tell me we were having guests!" You exclaimed in feigned surprise, doing your best to appear like you weren't scrambling to figure out a solution to this problem. "I would have picked the place up if I had known!"

Fake it 'til you make it, right? 

The Mandalorian stayed stock-still as you climbed out of the bunk, the child secure in your arms. "I'm so sorry about the state of the hold, everyone." You apologized profusely with a bow, "it's difficult to keep everything tidy. Little ones, you know how they are!" The hulking Devaronian who was half-in, half-out of the refresher appeared downright flummoxed when you brushed past him to stand by the Mandalorian, while the bald man across the way quickly adopted a calculating look. 

"Is this yours, Mando? Did you two make this?" He asked, grinning broadly as he got to his feet. "Look at you! Look at those ears!" He chuckled, moving in to fawn over said ears on the child. "Can I hold him?"

"I'd really rather you-" In a clean jerk of movement, he swept the baby out of your arms. "-Didn't." You finished, less scared and more irritated now. Just who did this guy think he was?!

The Twi'lek woman, who had been silent up until this point, started to giggle quietly to herself. The noise set your teeth on edge, to say nothing of the openly hostile look she was giving the Mandalorian. "I didn't take you for the type, Mando." She crooned, a small knife winding its way back and forth between her deft fingers. "Maybe that code of yours has made you soft." You knew an insult when you heard it, and you wondered what history the Mandalorian might share with her to warrant such a caustic reaction.

You could feel the tension rolling off of the Mandalorian in waves while the bald man toyed with the child. You took in the bracer of pistols he wore and your stomach twisted with nerves. The last thing you needed was more blasters near the child. "Me, I could never really get into the idea of havin' kids. Didn't have the temperament for it." The man remarked, "patience, y'know."

The baby's face scrunched up threateningly, heralding a deafening wail of distress. "Oh, quick, let me see him, he's going to pitch a fit." You said hurriedly.

No sooner had you stepped forward to take the child back (possibly by force) than an unfamiliar mechanical voice announced, "dropping out of hyperspace...now."

You barely managed to snatch the baby away from the bald man before everyone in the hold was thrown off their feet, the whole ship rolling under the strain of the abrupt change in navigation.

"Commencing final approach...now."

You stayed where you landed and clutched the child tight to your chest, ducking your head in case some of the cargo pulled loose. The ship banked hard and your body slid sideways on the floor.

"Cloaking signal...now."

Metal hit the deck on either side of you with a stereo clang!, making the child start to bawl but preventing you from sliding any further. An armored thigh plowed roughly between your legs and your eyes sprang open on reflex, sighing in relief when you were greeted with the familiar sight of the Mandalorian's visor. "Don't move." He muttered as the ship continued to pitch and sway.

You nodded, more than content to stay exactly where you were. His body caged in your own, solidly-armored form providing shelter for both you and the child. "Thank you." You breathed.

He merely shrugged in reply.

"Engaging coupling...now." The voice intoned overhead. The Crest plummeted and the Mandalorian swore under his breath, bracing himself on his forearms as his body was pushed down against your own from the force of the drop. The ship finally came to a stop with a rough shudder that made your teeth rattle in your skull. 

"Coupling confirmed. We are down. And relax. Commence extraction now."

The Mandalorian propped himself up with one arm, curling his other protectively around you and the squalling child. "Everyone alright?" He rasped after a few seconds had passed. "Status report."

"That useless droid didn't even give us a proper countdown!" The Twi'lek spat, getting shakily to her feet.

"It's a droid, Xi'an. Y' expect too much. Now, are you two gonna' be able to be friends during this or am I gonna' have to put you in time out?" The bald man inquired, gesturing between the Mandalorian and the Devaronian. "Remember Burg, Mando let us use his ship."

"Al-right Mayfeld." The large man groused, struggling to extract himself from the refresher. "But you had better shut up that baby before I make it into a snack."

Your body tensed at his threat and you heard the Mandalorian chamber a round for his flamethrower, the click deafeningly loud in the relative quiet of the hold. 

"Easy, easy. Burg, you gotta' be respectful." The bald man stressed the word, shooting you an apologetic grimace. "Flyin' makes him anxious."

"Making me anxious too." You managed to get out, using the hem of your tunic to mop some of the tears off of the kid's face. They had faded into sniffling and snorting, worn out from the scare and subsequent bumpy ride. You moved to sit up and the Mandalorian shifted back onto his haunches, one hand on your shoulder. You patted his hand and he squeezed gently before he rose to stand once more.

Mayfeld called up the ladder, "Z, are you sure they can't see us?"

"The Razor Crest is scrambling our signature, and I am inside the prison system. It's impressive that this gunship had survived the Empire without being impounded." The automated voice replied from the cockpit.

"Alright we got a job to do. Mando! You're up." The bald man ordered, gesturing at the floor port.

You saw the brief hesitation where the Mandalorian considered not obeying, but then he heaved a sigh and started rummaging around for something in one of the many crates.

"So, he never takes that thing off?" Mayfeld asked curiously as the Mandalorian crouched to work on the hatch encryption.

"Never. And I wouldn't ask him to." You replied firmly, bouncing the still-whimpering child on your hip. 

"You don't know his name or what he looks like, and you're bumpin' uglies with him?" Mayfeld's incredulous tone made you wish the ground would swallow you. "That's nuts."

"I know him. That's really what's important in a relationship, isn't it?" You posited cooly, spying the Mandalorian squaring his shoulders underneath his cloak. Whether he did it consciously or not, it was a little humorous to see someone as stoic as he was blatantly preening. "Knowing a person has always been about way more than just knowing their name or what they look like. Knowing a person is…" You paused thoughtfully, keenly aware of the daggers Xi'an was glaring at you. "Well, there's just more to it that a lot of people don't seem to understand."

"Oh you'll fit right in with their merry little band of Creed-followers." The Twi'lek woman murmured, her tone sarcastic as she enquired, "I suppose you'll be getting your helmet fitted shortly?"

"Why do you think I'm doing this job in the first place?" The Mandalorian growled. No one was caught more off-guard than you, and you barely managed to stop yourself from shooting Xi'an a smug smile. "Beskar isn't cheap." He continued, free hand reaching back to wrap carefully around your ankle. "Plus, I'd have to surrender a piece of my beskar to be smelted in with their new helmet's beskar." He tapped his scored breastplate with the crypto device, which carried on beeping. "Need a lot more wear and tear than this before I can justify that level of commitment."

It was a legitimate struggle to keep from laughing out loud at Mayfeld's continued expression of bewilderment. "You Mandalorian guys are even more ridiculous than I thought." He muttered as the crypto pinged.

The hatch slid open with a soft click, and the Mandalorian got back to his feet to coil and stow the cabled device. 

After some light bickering amongst the group, Mayfeld graciously agreed to go first. "You better hang onto this one, Mando." He joked, whacking a hand into the armored man's pauldron and then gesturing up and down at you. "Otherwise, I may just steal 'em for myself. If they're crazy enough to get freaky with you, maybe they'll settle for a guy who's a little more...normal." The smile he directed at you didn't reach his eyes, all teeth like a hungry animal.

You chose to heroically ignore his attempt at teasing you or inciting wrath in your 'partner'. "Stay safe, love." You crooned sweetly, deliberately attempting to be as saccharine as possible while you perched up on your tiptoes to touch your forehead to the Mandalorian's helm.

His hand found your own, fingers twining clumsily together. "You too," he hesitated before gruffly mumbling, "love." 

Xi'an followed after Mayfeld (making a gagging noise at the Mandalorian as she went), and then Burg dropped like a brick into the ship below. That was the last of his team departed through the hatch and yet he still stood there, just staring down at you.

"Was that too mu-" you began to whisper, only to have him cut you off by shoving you bodily against the wall. You started to stammer out another apology but ended up falling silent when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. One large hand cradled the back of your neck while the other gripped your tunic at the small of your back, and he leaned down to touch his helm to the top of the child's head.

The embrace reeked of a strangely-poignant possessiveness that had your heart aching, causing you to almost mourn the loss of him when his hold loosened. "I'm so damn sorry." He muttered, releasing you fully and turning towards the hatch.

You caught his hand before he could leave. "H-Hey, I meant what I said." You mumbled, half-hoping he didn't hear you. His head jerked to the side to look at you and your confidence waned considerably under his expressionless gaze, making you drop your eyes to the floor. "Y'know, um, stay safe." You chickened out. Really, how could you have thought you would get away with telling him something like that? Seconds before he headed off to do something he had clear reservations about doing?

He was still for several seconds before he shook his head and swung himself down to the ladder. "Stay in the bunk." He instructed, and then he too was gone.

…

Time passed at a slow crawl while you were sequestered in the bunk space. You did your best to keep the child occupied and quiet, astonishing them via a cat's cradle made from your boot laces.

You thanked the stars again and again that the kid hadn't been hurt when the ship landed, your hip still aching from how rough it had been for you. At the same time you staunchly avoided musing on the Mandalorian's body over your own, how quickly he had moved to protect you. It didn't bear thinking about. Just like his embrace before he had left, solid beskar molding to the curves of your body. 

Didn't mean anything. He was making certain the child was safe. If you were safe as well, it was strictly by proxy.

You shook your head at your silly thoughts, then stopped abruptly when you heard footsteps above you. You hushed the baby, moving them a little further back in the bunk as those footsteps shifted to impacts on the metal ladder. 

Stay in the bunk. The Mandalorian's words echoed in your ears and you swallowed hard. Stay in the bunk, but what if someone comes for me while you're gone? What then?

You heard someone fumbling with the keypad and you held your breath, hoping against hope that whoever was on the other side of the door wouldn't be able to figure out the combination. Please, please, just this once. But despite your fervent prayers, you saw the shutter begin to rise for the second time that day.

It was a compound-eyed droid. The aforementioned Z, if you had to guess. They stood in front of you, head cocked slightly to the side as if to study you. "Curious." They mused flatly. Then, they raised their rifle. 

Frantically, you scrambled for a plan. You weren't fast enough to outmaneuver a droid in a shootout. You didn't even have a blaster! Your knife was still strapped to your leg, precious little good it did you there. 

Cold reality dawned on you, that this...this could be it. The baby whined warily and you shifted your body, bracing your arm on the wall and doing your best to be a human shield for the child. "It'll be alright, sweetheart." You whispered to them, swallowing your panic to reassure them as best as you could. "I won't let them hurt you."

You heard a whir of servos and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation, unable to keep from cringing at the harsh report of the rifle. It sounded even louder in the cramped space. You waited for the pain, even though you had felt no blaster bolt impact. You assumed you were already in shock, ears ringing with the echoes of the gun.

Instead, a leather-gloved hand seized your arm, dragging you and the child out of the bunk space. You covered the baby's head, tucking them into the crook of your arm in an effort to protect them from the next attack. "No!" You cried, trying to struggle out of the person's grip so you could grab your knife. "No! Let me go, or I'll-!" 

Metal met your shoulder and you heard a ragged exhale of, "shit." At the familiar sound of that modulated voice, you dared to open your eyes. 

The droid was on the floor, a hole blown in its headgear. Most of your field of vision was taken up by a large form clad in beskar, whose forehead was resting on your shoulder. 

"Oh." You said softly, concerned when you felt him sag against you. His other forearm hit the wall above your head, taking some of his not-insubstantial weight off of you.

There was a wound between his breastplate and pauldron, still slowly trickling blood onto his flight suit. "I don't have much time." He said hoarsely. "Have to get that Twi' back so I get paid. Qin."

"Tell me what you need from me." Bold offer, when your legs still felt like gelatin. The fingers of your free hand grappled the sleeve of his flight suit, holding it tightly. Maker, you had thought you were dead. 

Relief and dread rushed through you in equal parts when he said, "Qin's out cold for the time being. Need you to stay in the bunk until I come get you." He hesitated, swallowing hard. "Please."

"When this is all over, I'm not going anywhere near that bunk ever again." You threatened weakly.

"That's fine." He nodded against your shoulder. "Just a little while longer. Qin is getting me triple from Ran."

"We'll see about that." You huffed. He straightened up, then leaned in to press his helmet to your forehead. You closed your eyes, not able to handle being studied at that moment. "I-I thought it was going to kill the-"

"I know." The Mandalorian breathed. "I'm sorry."

"I was so scared." You admitted, your voice cracking. The hold you had on his suit tightened even further. "M' sorry, you're the one who's hurt but I can't seem to get myself together." You shook your head with a sad little laugh, moving to pull away. 

The armored man kept you where you were though, his hands framing your shoulders. "I promise. We'll be safe once I deliver that Twi' to Ran, at least for a little while." He drew his thumb down the center of his breastplate, then tapped the chin of his helm with two fingers. "Promise."

"I'll hold you to it." His helmet hung mere inches from your face, and you stood on your tiptoes to press your forehead to his once more. "Do what you need to do. We'll be here." You promised, mustering up a smile. "Stay safe."

His hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing for a second. "Wait for me. This won't take long."

…

In spite of your trepidation you ended up dozing off with the words to the lullaby on your lips, thoroughly worn out from your trying day. The child was glued to your side, snoring quietly even as you drifted in and out of consciousness. 

Thinking back, all you could recall was hearing the ramp hiss open, the hollow echo of voices in a large hangar space. After that, just the smooth hum of hyperspace travel.

When the Mandalorian finally came to retrieve you, even the unflappably stoic bounty hunter seemed like he had gone through the wringer. His steps were unsure, and he clung to a cargo net despite the level deck. "Need your help." He said thickly once you had swung your legs out of the bunk space. 

Instantly awake at those words, you left the child to nap peacefully and followed the armored man back up the ladder to the cockpit. There, he all but fell into the pilot seat. 

"Something's wrong." He muttered. "It's just a cut, but something…" He trailed off, shaking himself after a moment. "Can't focus."

"What do you need me to do?" You asked.

"Hands aren't steady. Need...need to get the beskar off. Peel the suit. Fix the damage." He sounded breathless, like he was rushing to force the words out. 

"You have to walk me through this, okay? I won't touch anywhere you don't want me to touch, but I need your help." 

"Just-" He cut himself off with a low groan. "Gods, my head. That rancor-sized bastard broke every knob in that stupid control room off with my helmet."

"Hey." You murmured, placing a careful hand on top of his own. "Stay with me."

"Right. Important." His helmet rolled back for a moment. "Dammit, come on." He snapped in frustration, shaking his head. Fumbling fingers unlatched his beskar breastplate, the metal clicking softly as he pulled it from its gription mount. 

Next came the mount straps for his pauldrons, and here was where he really needed some help. The latches were worn to a smooth bronze patina, sliding out from beneath his shaky hands again and again. You carefully placed your fingers around his own, guiding him through undoing the simple fasteners before you tugged his pauldrons free. The harness slowly flopped forward, then landed on the floor with a muffled clunk. 

He exhaled hard and started dragging at the upper zippers of his flight suit, quickly getting them caught for his trouble. "Sweetheart, hang on." The endearment slipped out automatically, your mind already focused on this next insurmountable task. "Let me do this for you, okay?"

He lolled his head against his shoulder silently, dropping his hands to rest on his thighs. You stepped closer in between his legs and then slowly worked free the jam he had created for himself.

One of the Mandalorian's hands suddenly flew up, grabbing your sleeve. "Didn't kill anyone." He slurred, almost panicky. "I swear. It was all droids, and the one guy...Xi'an killed him, not me, I t-tried to talk him down, and Xi'an..." 

"I believe you." You assured him, gently patting his hand. "It's over now, okay?"

"Xi'an killed him, I just…" He trailed off, his head falling forward to rest on his chest. He might have been watching you fight with the zipper. "Told Mayfeld to ask about Alzoc Three, that bitch." He muttered, "like it was a joke. Like it was a joke. Alzoc Three was a nightmare, Ran almost died, I couldn't get the klesir...the smell…" He actually retched, "Burning, and I did what I had to but…they all had so many eyes, and it was so dark--"

"Whoa, hey. What are you even talking about?" You interrupted him, more than a little concerned. It wasn't like him to rattle off on such a wild tangent, frantic.

"Mines, we were sent into the mines blind. They didn't tell us about the T-Talz." He rambled on like you hadn't said anything, gesturing with one hand. "Dark. Cold. Talz, enslaved, mining...their whole lives, dying in those pits and it reeked like hatred." 

Your hands went still on his zipper when his voice cracked. He sounded seconds from weeping, his next words punching indelicate through the modulator.

"Imps shove the young ones into the pits. Say their fur will cushion the fall. I landed in a pile of bodies." He breathed. "So many little ones. Tiny, tiny...tiny bodies, and the klesir, the death-rot, I-I--"

You abandoned the fight with his zipper to shift forward, mindful of his wound as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His helmet dug into your collarbone and you laid your cheek on top of it, feeling his shoulders tremble slightly. "You're not there anymore." You whispered, cradling the back of his helmet like you did for the child's head.

"It's s-so dark…" He mumbled brokenly into your tunic. "Came at me with a rock crusher and I couldn't--I couldn't...oh gods..."

"Shh, sweetheart." You shifted your hand lower, resting your fingers tentatively against the exposed skin on the back of his neck. He felt fever-hot, the area clammy and damp with sweat. "It's alright now. You're here with me. Breathe, okay? Just keep your face there and focus on breathing. We'll get through this together."

"Did that bitch poison me?" The Mandalorian half-sobbed, grasping desperately at your arms. "I can't keep my eyes open. Can't...can't keep them open...g-gods, it's so dark…"

"Love, look at me." You coaxed him, holding the sides of his helmet steady. "You're on your ship. The child is safe. You're safe."

"Are you sure?" He asked, the uncertainty in his voice breaking your heart. 

Fake it 'til you make it.

"I promise." 

"The kid-"

"They're asleep in the bunk right now. Do you want me to get them?"

"No, no." He waved the suggestion off, nearly hitting you with the haphazard motion. "S'okay. I believe you." His hands dropped to rest on your tunic over your hips, fingers clenching tight in the fabric as if he was trying to ground himself with your presence.

With a little creative positioning and more than a few swears, you managed to get the flight suit peeled down to his elbows without dislodging his helmet. The liner shirt you resorted to shoving up until it was out of the way, finally getting a good look at the damage. 

He was littered in bruises. The angry contusion from that sniper bolt had mercifully faded, but in its place bloomed a veritable forest of new, smaller marks. Rounding out all these fresh acquisitions was the stab wound. It wasn't particularly large, though it sank deep into the tissue that connected his shoulder to his chest. If it didn't heal properly, it might impede his movement. 

A strange, bluish residue darkened the dried blood at the edges of the wound. Your eyes narrowed. "Do you have an anti-tox kit? There's some crud here I don't like the look of."

"Blue?" When you nodded he reached for his belt, finally tugging free a small vial from a side loop. "Bathe area with half." He instructed, his breathing ragged again. The minute effort had clearly worn him out, which was incredibly worrisome. 

You nodded, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. "I need you to lie down, okay? Otherwise this will just run off." 

The bleary Mandalorian gamely left the chair and dropped onto the floor, his normally-smooth motions reduced to something resembling clumsy puppeteering. You rummaged through the rear compartments for one of your clean rags and a bacta patch. This was no simple mark from a gaudy belt buckle, after all.

"I can't b-believe she poisoned me." He remarked faintly, sounding indignant. "What the hell did I ever do t' her?"

"Maybe you were just too devastatingly handsome. She couldn't take it when you left." You suggested dryly, carefully tipping half of the vial's neon purple contents onto the open wound. 

The Mandalorian hissed out a pained laugh, his whole body tensing briefly before relaxing again. "Shit, that mus' be it." He slurred. "Crazy Twi' was always stabbin' me. Wanted t' get m...me outta' th' beskar." He brushed his knuckles against your cheek. "Not like you. Y' always tellin' me t...to...to stay safe. Like you'd be sad 'f I got hurt." 

You longed for a beskar steel helmet at that moment, mentally cursing your cheeks for flushing as hot as they did. This wasn't the time! He was still soaked with sweat, his shoulder jumping erratically under your touch. It was difficult not to notice the way his chest was heaving, the rise and fall of battered olive skin almost hypnotic. This was only the second time you had seen him in such a state of undress and, despite how terrible the current situation was, you still treasured this display of the trust that he placed in you. Just to ask for your help in general-! "Of course I'd be sad." You said quietly, trying to focus on smoothing the patch over the edges of the wound.

His thumb traced your jawline. "Really?" He asked, sounding somewhere between incredulous and seconds from passing out. "S'nice. You're nice. Nice t' look at, too. Mesh'la. Xi'an was jealous." He mumbled. You could hear his smile; he was gloating, the smug bastard. Leave it to a man who had been poisoned to gloat about an old flame being petty! "Jeal-o-us…" He tapped your nose, and then his hand flopped to the floor.

You had to sit back on your haunches, exhaling hard once you heard his breathing even out. This day was just getting stranger and stranger! Nice to look at, he had said. Xi'an was jealous. Maker, were you still blushing?! 

You shook your head, for once not bothering to fight back your fond smile. "She sure was, wasn't she." You whispered sadly, daring to caress the side of his helmet.

You didn't want to leave him alone while he 'sweat out' the poison in case something went wrong, so you chose to curl up in the secondary co-pilot chair and keep him under observation. After several minutes, a hand fumbled up to grab your own. "H-ey." He breathed. "St…Stay here. Don' leave, okay?" 

"I'm right here with you. I'm not going anywhere." You assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

"Can you...sing me th...that song. The one--the one...th' one the kid likes?" He turned his head slowly to look up at you, the side of his helm hitting the floor with a solid thud. "Keeps the dark...keeps th' dark outta' my helmet."

"Yeah, absolutely. Whatever you need." He squeezed your hand, which you assumed was his way of saying thank you. You then slid off of the seat and back onto the floor, carefully lifting his head so you could lay it in your lap. 

He groaned at the motion and you apologized softly, stroking your fingers down the front of his helm like you did for the kid. You got a quiet sigh out of that. His hand shifted over to pet your thigh, and you felt his shoulders relax ever so slightly.

"Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you…" you sang, deliberately keeping your volume as low as you could manage.

The Mandalorian hummed along with the tune off-key and the sound made your fond smile return, despite your best efforts.

"But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me…" 

…

You were uncertain of when you had fallen asleep, only knowing that your own dreams were far from restful. Fraught with images of dark pits and frenzied clawing through the void, the muted horror of an undefinable stench clinging to your body as you searched for him...

"My f-f-friend, if you are receiving this..." 

The staticky voice startled you from your nightmares and you gazed blearily up at the Mandalorian's back. Somehow you had ended up back in the co-pilot chair. When…?

He appeared to be listening to a message, his form hunched over slightly so you couldn't see the individual's holo on the control panel. "...means you are alive. You may be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even." 

Your brow furrowed as the Mandalorian scoffed, shaking his head.

"...lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown."

Ex-Imperial? You were wide awake now. You tucked your legs beneath the blanket covering you, huddling yourself up tight before you realized that it was actually his cape. He must have draped it over you after he woke up from his post-poison fainting spell.

The message rattled on, "They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy but we cannot get close enough to take him out."

"Osi'kyr." The Mandalorian hissed through his teeth, scooping his gription harness up off the floor and settling it back on his shoulders. "Of course not, of course." The grit in his words was unfamiliar, violent. You remembered what he had said about not touching certain jobs anymore; frantic, guilty rambling about Alzoc Three, dark pits. What else had he done before bounty hunting?

"If you would consider one last commission, I would very much make it worth your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize." His shoulders snapped tight. "So here is my proposition: return to Nevarro. Bring the child as bait. I will arrange an exchange and provide loyal Guild members for protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want."

The Mandalorian was shaking his head again, knuckles rhythmically striking the edge of the control panel. He was angry. His presence seemed to fill the cockpit, robbing the space of everything except the silent fury he radiated. Like when he had been staring down Calican, the mudhorn about to charge.

"If you succeed, you keep the child and I will have your name cleared with the Guild. For a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile." Weirdly, the Mandalorian went dead still at that. The wording obviously had some kind of heavy impact on him. "I await your arrival with optimism."

"I'll bet you fucking do, you-" The Mandalorian seethed, reaching for his breastplate and then pausing when he saw you were awake. He continued the motion after a moment, clearing his throat. "We're headed back to Sorgan." He enunciated calmly, affixing the plate to his harness.

"Why?" You inquired, a little wary. Gone was the slur in his voice, the clumsy movements he had displayed only a few hours back. Also gone was his rage. He was somehow even more closed off than before, his body language bordering on unreadable.

"I'm going to need backup."

Part Six

[justanother-unluckysoul]

Working My Way Back To You 10/11

Killian gets captured. When Emma finally rescues him, he’s traumatized and nearly broken from the torture he endured. Thankfully Emma is close at hand to help him through it.

Heavy on the hurt/comfort, with some whump because I couldn't help myself lol

A/N: Some fluffy comfort for the prompts “hugs” and “kisses.” Short and (hopefully) sweet! We are almost at the end of this story, just a quick epilogue to go. I can’t believe it! Thank you, all my lovely readers, for giving my little story so much support! Epilogue will be up early next week. It’s all finished so there’s no point in making you wait a whole week for it.

Warnings for this chapter: brief and vague mention of rape (though i’m sure if you’re still reading this story you don’t mind that)

Unbetad as always so mistakes are all mine.

Tagging @cocohook38 as requested.

Read this chapter on AO3

Working My Way Back To You

Hugs + Kisses

After their wonderful time together in the forest, the complete bliss and contentment Killian felt while cuddling with Emma under the blankets lingers for some time. He makes the most of his rediscovered confidence with her at night, making love until they are both exhausted and sated (and gods he missed this; the feel of her around him, the expression on her face when he begins to thrust into her, and the way she can take him apart and put him back together so easily, leaving him worn out and absolutely satisfied). And Killian assumes – he hopes – that his mind has finally given up on tormenting him with the memories of his torture. Perhaps he’s even cured of that PTSD thing. He’s certainly less jumpy now, less prone to startling and he hasn’t had a nightmare in a while. His broken hand has healed – Stacy’s not-so-gentle methods have helped return the strength to it, so Killian is able to spend some more time on the Jolly Roger with Henry, properly preparing the ship for a much-needed day out on the water.

“A family outing?” Emma asks with a smile.

Killian’s heart soars and his stomach does a strange sort of flip at her casual use of the word family in this context. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

“Aye, we’ll take her out far enough that it’s just us and the sea,” he says.

Henry is practically bouncing up and down in excitement as they make their plans. It’s been too long since they’ve done this. Emma checks the weather forecast and they schedule a sailing day. Killian tries to conceal the fact that he’s just as excited about it as Henry is, but the way Emma’s smirking at him in that way makes him think he’s not doing a good job of doing so. So he gives up on hiding it at all. It doesn’t matter anyway, because they both already know how much he loves sailing his ship. There’s just something about being on the water that is both exhilarating and calming. And to be out there with Emma and Henry? Even better.

-\-

A few nights before their planned outing, Killian’s nightmares return. And it’s as bad as ever. He’s not sure what triggered it, but it’s nasty combination of what was and what could have been, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s dreaming but he can’t seem to wake up. He tries to call out to Emma so she can help him. The words stick in his throat. He can’t move. His captor has Pan’s face, which seems wrong because Killian knows this setting isn’t Neverland, but he doesn’t have time to contemplate that because Pan is grinning evilly and pushing him back against the wall, and Killian knows what will happen next.

“This isn’t real,” Killian tells himself, desperately trying to wake up. His voice trembles and breaks.

“Are you sure about that, Killian?” asks Pan, his childlike voice sickeningly sweet in Killian’s ear, too close, too much, “Does this not feel real to you?”

Killian’s breath catches in barely concealed dread, gooseflesh breaking out across his skin at Pan’s unwanted touch. And it does feel real, terribly so, and Killian wants to fight, wants to resist, wants to wake the hell up, but his limbs stubbornly ignore his commands. He squeezes his eyes closed tight instead and braces himself for what’s coming, but then Pan is Rumpelstiltskin, and Killian’s on the Jolly Roger, lashed to the mast with ropes that are squeezing the breath from his lungs. The crocodile cackles at him, holding Killian’s heart in his hand.

“No,” Killian whispers, “Please.”

“Reduced to begging so soon, Captain? I thought you were stronger than that.” His hand tightens around Killian’s heart, the agony of it blacking out everything but the crocodile’s next taunt. “But it seems you are a coward after all.”

When the pain in his chest abates Killian finds himself back in the cellar, bent over a table, trying to support himself on his elbows because his hook is gone and his hand is broken and everything hurts and his captors are laughing and he can barely keep his feet from the rough thrusts of the man behind him. Tears roll down Killian’s cheeks but that’s wrong, he didn’t cry, he wouldn’t…

Killian, wake up.

The fingers on his skin feel different suddenly, skittering light and gentle across his forehead and dragging a little heavier across his chest and now that is real. Movement returns to his frozen limbs in a rush. And then he’s falling, and the landing is hard, rattling his bones, and he’s nearly choking on his own breaths in his panic as his stomach strongly suggests it might like to purge itself. He’s shaking violently, his skin crawling, and it’s so bloody dark he can’t orient himself.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m- Damn it. Killian, are you okay?” Emma.

At least he assumes it’s Emma, and not another trick of his mind. He is awake now, right? Emma switches on the light while Killian’s swallowing against the nausea between his ragged gasps, knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself, rocking slowly back and forth, trying to calm down – the way his body is trembling, he doubts he has the strength to get to the bathroom in time if his gut really rebels. The sudden brightness burns his eyes but he doesn’t dare close them lest he find himself back in the dreamscape.

“Hey, it’s okay, Killian, you’re safe,” Emma says, and she slowly kneels on the bedroom floor in front of him and doesn’t touch him, “I’m right here.”

“S-swan.” He meant sorry, but her name is apparently the only word he’s capable of saying right now.

He forces himself to reach out and lay his hand on her arm, just to reassure himself that he’s actually awake. That she’s really here. That he’s not alone.

“I’m here,” she repeats, “Let me help you, Killian.”

She always moves slowly when he’s like this, waits for his permission to touch, always careful not to startle him and scared she’ll make things worse. But Killian’s teeth chatter when he tries to speak, so he clenches his jaw and nods instead. With careful, deliberate movements Emma shuffles closer and lifts her hands to his cheeks. His face is wet. It seems he had been crying in the real world too.

“That’s it. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

She wipes the tears away gently as Killian sniffles and swallows and tries to pull himself together.

“Do we need to move to the bathroom?” she asks softly, knowing him so well.

But thankfully, the rolling of his stomach has begun to settle, and he’s quite certain he will not actually vomit. Not this time. He shakes his head, shifts his legs to a more comfortable position away from his chest and runs his unsteady hand through his hair.

“M-my apologies,” he mumbles, embarrassed by his reaction, “I’m…” He swallows hard. “I didn’t…”

Gathering the correct words and ordering them out of his mouth is a challenge, and he decides to give up on it for the moment. Bloody hell, he is pathetic. It’s been a while since his nightmares were this intense. At least this time it seems he’ll be able to find calm before his panicking turns into an actual attack, his breaths already starting to slow down as Emma moves closer to hug him.

“Shhh. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I w-woke you,” Killian points out.

He’s clinging onto Emma now, curled close against her with his head on her shoulder, and even with how ashamed he feels for this blatant show of weakness, he can’t bring himself to let go. She’s rubbing his back soothingly, cradling his head against her, her embrace comforting him, pushing away the remnants of his dream.

“Yeah, you did,” she says softly, “But it’s okay, I don’t mind. I just wish I’d woken up sooner, really. I tried to wake you up, but I guess I was a bit late. That was a bad one, huh?”

There is no point in lying to her.

“Aye.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. His heart is still beating too fast, his throat dry from his gasping.

“Do you want some water?” Emma asks, as if she can hear his thoughts, “I can just… magic a glass up here. We won’t have to move.”

“That would b-be nice.”

Emma moves one hand off him to use her magic and momentarily she’s holding a glass of water, which she carefully passes to Killian. His hand trembles a little, but he’s able to bring it to his lips and quench his thirst without spilling any.

“Feeling better?”

Killian nods.

“Thank you, love. But perhaps…” He winces at the thought but presses on anyway. “Perhaps I should sleep on the couch for a while. So I don’t disturb your rest again.”

“Absolutely not,” Emma says, a bit severely, though still hushed so she doesn’t wake Henry who is sleeping in his room just down the hall, “I’m not letting you deal with these nightmares on your own.”

Killian pretends he’s not relieved about that.

“Now, let’s get back into bed, okay?”

“Okay.”

They untangle from each other and climb back into the bed, where Killian immediately pulls Emma close again to keep his anxiety at bay. The light is still on, and that helps too. He hopes Emma won’t turn it off yet.

���You okay?” she murmurs, settling with her head on his shoulder and her hand over his heart.

“I just…” Killian sighs deeply, his frustration coming to the forefront now that he’s less frightened. “I hate this. I hate that I can’t… I can’t move past it. It’s been months, Emma.”

He doesn’t know why it affected him so much – Archie said it’s likely a culmination of the burden of unresolved trauma he’s been through in the past, this most recent simply one too much for his mind to handle. And that’s also why his nightmares often included such old events along with the new. Pan and Rumpelstiltskin featured tonight, but sometimes Hades makes an appearance, mutilating him with his own hook and threatening to drop him in that accursed river.

“You are doing better though. This is the first time you’ve had a nightmare in a while. And the flashbacks aren’t happening very often anymore either, are they?”

“No, they’re not. But it’s not good enough,” Killian says bitterly, and the disgust he feels for his continued cowardice is so strong it could drown him. I’m not good enough.

He should be the one protecting Emma, comforting her, not the other way around all the bloody time. He’s so tired of it. He can feel himself retreating, if not physically then at least in his mind, the terrible weight of not good enough pulling him down, down, down…

“Hey, stop it.” Emma props herself on her elbow so she can plant the softest of kisses on the furrow between his brows, pulling him back to himself and to her. “You’re healing. It’s a process.”

His hand may be healed now, only the scars remaining that will fade even further with time, but at times like this Killian fears his mind may be beyond repair, despite the assurances from both Emma and from Archie that he’s healing. But Emma continues to pull him out of his morbid thoughts, kissing the scar on his cheek next.

“I never want you to think you aren’t good enough, Killian,” because of course she heard the true meaning behind his words, and there’s a feather-light kiss for a faint line of scarring on his shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut and his lips parting on a quiet gasp, “You’ve been through…” Emma’s lips find another old injury. “…so much. You just need some time.”

Killian thinks this would probably be arousing if it wasn’t so soothing. He can feel how much love she has for him – she’s pouring it into every touch, every word, every press of her lips. Perhaps she’s using a little of her magic to do it, or perhaps it’s simply because he’s still fragile from his nightmare, but the sensation is powerful and wonderful, his very nerves seeming to hum happily under his skin in response.

“Emma.” It’s little more than a helpless whimper. Desperate. Though for what, he can’t be certain. It’s not that he wants her to stop. “What are you doing to me?”

“Loving you,” Emma says, in a voice that means he has no choice but to lie back and take it, “Now sshh, I’m not finished.” She curls her fingers gently but firmly around his bicep, anchoring him in place.

She’s slowly kissing a path across the scars on his body between sentences, the knots and lines and hollows that map out a lifetime of surviving, too many lifetimes really. Her tender affections feel like they’re filling a void inside his soul with warmth and love and it’s almost too much to handle. All he can do is keep his eyes closed and wrap his arm around Emma’s waist as she continues.

“You take all the time you need to heal, and I’ll be with you all the way,” she takes his left arm in her gentle hand, and he knows where she’s going next, “However long this takes. However many bad days, or nights, that you have. You just need to…” Her lips brush against his sensitive inner wrist, just beside the ugly and numb scar tissue that covers the blunted end of it. “…to let me help you. I love you, Killian. Please, don’t pull away from me.”

“I won’t,” his voice breaks, and if she doesn’t stop smothering him with all this kindness soon, he’s going to start crying. Again. “I promise I won’t. Emma, I…”

She moves and takes his right hand from around her waist and softly kisses the scars on his fingers and across the back of his hand, and there’s a feeling of all the broken pieces of him being drawn together, sharp edges smoothed over by Emma’s love and it’s too much. A tear slips from under Killian’s lashes and his breath shudders, his heightened emotions too intense to be contained any longer.

“I love you,” he breathes, looking up to see Emma’s own eyes glassy with tears as well.

“I know.” She smiles down at him, raw and open and honest as her thumb brushes the tear from his face. “And I mean what I said. I’m with you, Killian.”

Her next and final kiss is granted to his lips, and she takes her time there, her palm resting against his cheek while his fingers tangle in her hair, allowing him to reciprocate before she settles down into his arms again, and Killian wants to stay in this moment forever. Comfortable and safe, basking in the wonderful feeling of being so wholly loved. How does his Swan always know what he needs?

“What have I done to deserve you, Emma?” he asks once he’s regained control of his emotions.

“What have I done to deserve you?” she counters.

He smiles, and lets the silence stretch on, his limbs feeling heavy and his thoughts turning sluggish as sleep pulls him away. It almost claims him, his eyes closed and his breathing even, when the light he could still just barely see behind closed lids suddenly goes out and he startles, eyes flying open as he pulls himself back to reality with a jolt. He’d turned over onto his side in his almost-sleep, and now Emma’s pressed against his back with her arm around his torso, squeezing a little tighter to combat his flinch. She’s switched the light off, he realizes, plunging the room back into darkness.

“Sorry, I thought you’d gone back to sleep,” she whispers, “Is it too dark?” She doesn’t wait for his response. “Hang on a second, I’ve got an idea.”

She moves her hand, a casual flick of her wrist in a way that Killian recognizes – so at ease with using magic these days – and the curtains glide open, letting the nearly full moon cast its light into the room. The tension flows out of him almost instantly, coaxed away by pleasant memories of nights aboard the Jolly Roger with the bright moon shining through the windows of his quarters.

“Better?”

“Aye, that’s perfect. Thank you.”

He can’t find the words to convey just how thankful he is for her, for everything she does for him. He hopes she knows. She probably does. She’s quite perceptive, he thinks with a smile. He closes his eyes again and sleep finds him quickly. When he dreams again, it’s of the sea, and of Emma, and of the moon shining down upon the deck of the Jolly Roger where they’re lying entwined in peaceful respite.

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

I’ll Be There For You {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: This story has potential triggers which I have in the tags as “tw __” and discusses heavier subjects (miscarriage, abortion) which is why I’m forgoing my usual like/reblog note. Certain aspects were taken from true events. 

"This is not something I would have expected from you," Aizawa commented evenly. "Or Bakugo, for that matter."

Her head hung in avoidance of the sharp gaze of her teacher. He wasn't harsh, but his words veiled what was surely his true opinion of the situation. She wouldn’t be able to handle seeing disappointment in his eyes.

"I know, sir," she said quietly, her focus on keeping her voice steady. "But as unexpected as it is, I... I’ll face whatever the result may be. "

Aizawa regarded the student in front of him, wondering how she truly felt about what was happening. She was intelligent enough to know the responsible answer but he wanted to know what she was thinking, his interest falling more on her stance towards the other student involved.

"I approve of your request to leave school grounds under the condition that you are accompanied by a UA staff member."

She bowed at the waist. "Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."

"What staff member do you feel comfortable going with you?" he asked tiredly. This wasn't something he expected to deal with today. "For a potentially distressing situation, we may suggest Hound Dog for his guidance services however I don't believe that’s the best choice in this case. If you would like Midnight or Recovery Girl, I can make the arrangements."

"If Recovery Girl is able to, I would appreciate her company."

Nodding, Aizawa watched her for an additional moment before curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "May I ask why you chose to make this request alone? Surely Bakugo would want to be present for—”

"Sensei," she breathed out, interrupting him, "I want so desperately for Katsuki to be with me for this, but... I believe that there won't be anything for him to be present for. I’ve never heard it before."

He cocked his head to the side. "You've used your quirk on Bakugo?"

"I have," she admitted. "I've heard five years into his future about our relationship but, well, I’ve never heard this. I've heard of a small apartment with blue-grey sheets on a queen size bed and an argument over a rice cooker. I've... I've heard so much. But not this."

"What you must understand is that life can and will deal you unexpected blows," Aizawa told her. "There will be gains and losses. Life and death can be dealt without our permission, and the future can always change. If there’s nothing to report, so be it. But if there is, make the most of it. Sometimes that's all you can do."

His words applied to her situation, but his eyes didn't meet hers; they focused out the window to her left where the setting sun had begun to paint fluffy clouds in brilliant orange and pink.

Three days later, her off-campus trip long over, she laid on her bed in the dorms with Mr. Aizawa’s parting words from their meeting swirling through her thoughts just as they had been since they were spoken. She wondered where his mind went as he gazed at the clouds, wondered what his life’s unexpected twists and turns were for him to speak so sagely.

A chirp from her phone drew her from her thoughts and she rolled to her side to check the incoming message of, “coming back around 6. Tempura for dinner after I shower?”

“sure. not feeling super social so can we eat in my room?” she replied.

“yeah, you good?”

She bit her lip, heart fluttering at Katsuki’s concern but stomach flipping at how to answer. Deciding on the simplest version of the truth, she sent back, “been a long week and I miss you”

“few more hours and you get me for the weekend”

Warmth bloomed in her chest at the thought of having him back by her side for two whole days, craving the closeness that would hopefully ease her mind once he was there. Still, nerves twisted with anxiety at the talk they needed to have and she could only pray that she could keep her composure as she said what needed to be said.

It was difficult waiting when the hours ticked by so slowly. Distracting herself with schoolwork at least allowed her to finish her assignments to ensure her weekend was completely free, but with more time to kill she resorted to reading and rereading the pamphlets she had been given earlier in the week, ones she’d been too overwhelmed to try looking through until then. Part of her mind was eased as she read and her decision was seeming less intimidating the more information she consumed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity later, she had a text saying that her boyfriend was back and starting their dinner, he’d be up within half an hour or so. Butterflies filled her as she texted back an affirmative and she took a deep breath. The conversation they were going to have wouldn’t be easy by any means but she was ready. She had to be.

Repeating in her head what she wanted to say she waited for the knock on her door, and when it came she laid her palms flat on her small kotatsu in an attempt to ground herself as it opened to her boyfriend with two dishes in hand.

“You better never question my feelings for you,” he said with a grimace. “I just had to fight off both Uraraka and Kirishima from stealing your damn food.”

“Who said chivalry is dead?”

He snorted, setting the food down on the wooden surface of the kotatsu and sliding hers in front of her as he sat down to eat. Between mouthfuls he recounted his patrol with a sidekick of Endeavor’s through downtown and how they had taken down a few low-level criminals with shitty quirks, watching as she nodded and pushed her food around with her chopsticks. She’d eaten half but slowly, absentmindedly; that wasn’t normal by any means.

“Something’s weird with you,” he stated, crimson eyes studying her intently. “You get a shitty night’s sleep?”

“I’m not sleeping that great but that’s just, you know, stress. Are you too tired to talk for a while?”

Inwardly she cringed at her lack of tact when he narrowed his eyes at the abrupt subject change. “The discussion better be about what’s wrong with you.”

“Uhm, it… it is. I went to a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday because I’ve been feeling sort of… off. I was examined and—and I found out that… that I’m pregnant, Katsuki.”

His eyes widened before dropping into a squint as his brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly. He stayed quiet, seemingly absorbing the information. The lack of an actual response might have been scarier than any other one she had conjured in her mind from the anxiety about this moment. That anxiety was back tenfold and getting more stifling by the silent second.

“I’m sorry I waited to tell you but I wanted you to have time to think about everything without having to go on patrol with this fresh in your mind. I know you need to keep your focus but I want you to know that the appointment I have scheduled this coming Wed—"

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or ask me to go with you?”

“I didn’t think this would be the outcome,” she admitted shakily, every rehearsed word she had leaving her mind completely. “I’ve never heard it any time I’ve listen to your future; where our relationship is concerned it’s always just been us for as far as I can hear. Honestly… I just… I expected a false alarm.”

“But it wasn’t,” he snapped. “It wasn’t a false alarm. You’ve got my kid… you’ve got my baby growing inside you and we’re eighteen fucking years old trying to become pro heroes! How the hell are we going to make this work? We need to figure so much shit out—”

“I’m not having this baby,” she said quietly, silencing him momentarily.

“Not hav—what the fuck are you talking about? You want to…to get rid of them? That’s our kid! Just because you never heard about them when you listened to my future however long ago doesn’t mean it hasn’t changed to fit them! Our decisions change and that means our futures can too. Why would—just—come here! Listen to my future again!” he insisted, moving closer so his chest was easily accessible to her. The desperation in his voice broke her heart, but she knew that listening to his heartbeat would bring back to her the murmur of what would be his last words if they went down the path he was suggesting.

She shook her head sadly. “Katsuki, the future can be changed, yes, but it’s because I want to change the future that I can’t have this baby.”

He blanched. “Are you saying you don’t want me in your life?”

“No!” she nearly shouted. “I want you in my life and that’s the entire reason I can’t do this!”

“You’re not making any damn sense!” he screamed, his hands flying up to tug at his hair in frustration. “Say what the hell you mean, this isn’t the time to dance around your words! We have to fuckin’ talk about this!”

She took a shuddering breath, eyes closed. “At the appointment, I learned that I’m roughly eight weeks. They let me hear the heartbeat and because I knew your future never included us with a baby, I activated my quirk when I heard it and focused on your role in their life. The apprehension about what we would do to make this work was there just like it is now, but then I heard the excitement from you as you got used to the idea and kept wondering who they would look more like. Then—then there was grief. You were screaming and saying it couldn’t be right, they had to work harder to find a heartbeat.”

He grimaced. “You’re gonna lose them.”

Nodding, she continued, “I’ve never really had much experience with my quirk listening past the… death of the person whose heartbeat I hear, but this was different. They were gone but the effect they had on you, it consumed you completely. You kept saying that you couldn’t focus on anything but what we’d lost and it threw you off horribly at the worst possible time. During your patrol, a villain—you couldn’t think and—and—"

“I… died?”

She closed her eyes tightly and it was enough of an answer.

The things her quirk allowed her to hear were based on the decisions and intent of those involved, and if her decision upon finding out she was pregnant was to keep the baby then what she had told him made sense. Still, he had to ask, had to make sure.

“And no matter what we do… there isn’t—we can’t…?” he cut himself off, frustrated. “There is no outcome where we have this kid, is there?”

She wished she could say yes, would’ve given anything to be able to. But every other option they had she’d explored and it made no difference.

“No, there isn’t. I just—I want you to be okay, and for us to be okay, and to be able to stay toge—”

“Hey,” he said, cutting off her rambling as her eyes turned glassy, “we’re gonna be okay. I’m here for you now and I’ll be there for you for the rest of our shitty lives.”

“But I’m sorry Katsuki, I know this isn’t something you expected to deal with right off of patrol and this is all so much to just be throwing at you and I’m so sorry—”

He laid a hand on her shoulder and the other tilted her chin up to look at him. “Listen to me. You have nothing to apologize for, okay? We… we did this together and we’re gonna get through it together. I love you and I ain’t going anywhere, you got that? You can listen to my future all you want and that’s guaranteed to be my answer every fuckin’ time.”

She brought a hand up to cover her mouth as a choked sob left her, shoulders shaking as he brought her to his chest and hugged her close. He cradled her head in one hand and hoped she didn’t feel the tremble as he tried to calm his own breathing while she cried against him. Thousands of thoughts raced through his mind and he tried desperately to grasp even just one.

And the one he settled on was the fact that right at that moment he was holding his entire future. She had within her the power to create a future he had only dreamed of in secret. He could only pray to whoever was listening that if they couldn’t have it now, they could someday.

“This Wednesday is when I go back to the clinic,” she said quietly. “Aizawa arranged for Recovery Girl to go with me again but I—I wish you were coming too.”

“Of course I’m coming with you.”

She looked up at him over tearstained cheeks. “Your work study—”

“Fuck ‘em, you’re more important. I’ll figure out—"

“Hey, don’t just skip out on patrol, okay?” she reasoned. “Talk to Aizawa, he might be able to do something. Talk to him first.”

He stared at her for a long moment before his eyes narrowed in determination. Then he leaned forward and kissed her softly, pulling back to press a second lingering kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Impatient knocks echoed through the small teacher’s apartment of the 3-A dormitory, Aizawa’s already tired spirit deflating even more when he realized he would need to speak to another person.

Crossing the small living area, he opened the door to find Bakugo standing before him with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his sweatpants. Aizawa raised an eyebrow.

“Something the matter, Bakugo?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The blonde shuffled his feet—hesitantly?—before meeting his eye. “Can we talk about this privately?”

Aizawa stepped aside to allow him into the apartment.

He watched him take in the minimalist setup, even going so far as to say that he saw a ghost of a smile cross his features. The sight was enough for his curiosity to be piqued—first asking for a private conversation and now a smile?

“Did the old lady tell you what’s going to happen?”

The older man pushed away his thoughts at the question, cocking his head. “I would assume you’re referring to Recovery Girl and the situation with your fellow student.”

Bakugo scoffed. “Drop the ‘fellow student’ bullshit, you know that we’ve been dating since first year. She’s my damn girlfriend, you can say it.”

“So this is about her.”

“Of course it’s about her!” Bakugo snapped, hands free of his pockets and crackling. “Of course it’s about the girl who’s pregnant with my kid! Everything I fuckin’ do is about her! I’m in love with her!”

Aizawa stared at him.

“It’s about the girl I’m hopelessly in love with who’s way too goddamn good to be with me but sticks around anyway! It’s about the girl who believes I can become a hero because of what’s in my heart and not just because of the explosions I can make with my hands! It’s—it’s—it’s…” He choked out a shuddering breath, crackling palms now just smoking, before continuing softly, “it’s about the girl who wants a future and a family with me and is fighting like hell to keep us both on track to be heroes and still get that family someday.”

Passionate was a good word to describe Katsuki Bakugo. He’d thought so during the entrance exam and from the first moment he had officially met the boy. Rough around just about every single edge, but passionate nonetheless. He had always been passionate to become a hero of course, but now Aizawa saw that the passion extended so much farther past his career choice.

“She does so fuckin’ much for me,” Bakugo said, his voice thick from beneath spiked bangs obscuring his face. “For once, I want to be able to do something for her. That’s why I’m here.”

The blonde lifted his head and leveled his teacher with a determined gaze, Aizawa choosing to ignore the glint of tears he saw gathered on his lash line.

“I came to get permission to go with her and the old lady, work study be damned. Regardless of what’s going to happen I’m still their dad and I need to be there for their mom.”

He had never been more moved by the student in front of him than he was in that moment, though he declined to show it outwardly. Pride was swelling in his chest and he hoped that Bakugo would one day truly understand how much maturity he had gained in his years at UA.

"I approve of your request to leave school grounds under the supervision of Recovery Girl. I expect you to behave appropriately. Both of you will be excused from classes Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Your work study will be notified and grant you a leave of absence for the entirety of the next week.”

Bakugo blinked. “What are you telling them to give me a leave?”

“It would be illogical to tell the full truth due to the oftentimes conservative mindset of many in the world of heroes, which could unjustly damage both of your reputations. So, they will be informed that as your teacher and work study sponsor I have requested you be granted leave for an important familial issue. It’s not a lie.”

“And the class?”

“I can tell them the same thing,” he offered. “As I said, it’s not a lie. If you want to elaborate further that’s your choice as well as hers, but I would be mindful for the same reasons.”

“You gonna keep class rep off our asses too? Because I’m not leaving her alone in her dorm after everything’s said and done. She’s gonna need me.”

“The fact that you need her too means that yes, I will keep Iida under control.”

Bakugo’s jaw set as his lips twisted into a grimace. “I have to be strong for her, not the other way around.”

“You need to be strong for each other,” Aizawa corrected. “Grief is an ugly thing to face alone and if you don’t have to, you shouldn’t. You’re each losing something, someone, important to the both of you and to shoulder grief or guilt or anything of the sort on your own may be a natural reaction to heroes like us, but it’s a self-destructive one. I would know.”

It felt like ages had passed since they’d woken up and joined Recovery Girl as she escorted them off campus and to the small clinic in town. She’d been very pleasantly surprised to see the blonde by her side, saying as much when the two laced their fingers together. The older woman then took the travel time to explain exactly what would happen and how long it would take, more for Katsuki’s benefit than hers since it had been explained at her prior appointment.

“He’ll be coming back with me,” she’d said softly. “I want him there.”

“That won’t be a problem, dear,” Recovery Girl told her, and when they arrived it hadn’t been.

It was quick, quicker than either of them really expected. She’d gone back first and then Katsuki was allowed to come sit by her side after a short wait, and when the anesthesia had her sedated enough it began. Roughly ten minutes of holding her hand later, they were sitting in a recovery room for another two hours before going back to the dorms.

Recovery Girl made sure she was comfortably set up in Katsuki’s room with everything she would need for the next few days before beckoning him out to the hallway with her. When the door was closed behind them, she spoke in a quiet voice.

“You’ve been very good for her through this but it doesn’t end once the drowsiness wears off. I don’t mean just getting pain relief or food or keeping her comfortable. Support her just as much as you have leading up to the procedure now that it’s over.”

“What makes you think I’d—”

His angry words had been cut off by a hit to his shin with her cane. “I’m not saying you won’t, you stubborn child, I just want you to understand that she still needs you. You need to let yourself need her too so you can both work through this together. Now, if either of you need me you know where to find me.”

Once the old woman was gone he’d turned back and entered his room, his girlfriend looking at him sleepily. She looked small, soft, from where she was tucked in his bed.

“C’mere,” she’d whispered, hand reaching out to him. He went to her, sliding under the blanket and gently pulling her close.

They laid together throughout the day, sometimes sleeping and sometimes just talking lowly between themselves. He would bring her pain pills every few hours and help her up when she needed even as she fussed that it wasn’t necessary. He let her rest her head on his chest, knowing she had activated her quirk when a relieved sigh passed her lips with a barely whispered “you’re alive.”

He had a lot of time to think throughout the day, his thoughts wandering but always trailing back to what they had been forced by fate to give up. It was while she laid asleep beside him sometime in the early afternoon that the heaviness in his chest became almost unbearable. It hurt. It pierced his skin and cracked through his ribs to squeeze his heart tightly, the pressure unrelenting as the sun shone through the balcony curtains.

He hated it. He hated that he had lost someone he never knew but loved nonetheless. It was hard to accept and he knew it would take time—even if he wasn’t a patient guy he never backed down from something difficult. But it hurt.

So maybe that’s why when his eyes started to burn and his vision blurred he curled himself around her sleeping form, tucking her head under his chin as he closed his eyes tightly. She was the only other person who knew exactly how it felt, and he now understood what Aizawa and Recovery Girl had advised about his grief. It wasn’t easy to share the weight of his emotions with someone else but if it was her, he could do it. He would do it.

But not today—today was for her recovery. When the drowsiness was fully gone and they’d had a full night’s sleep beside one another he would open up. If the sting of tears returned then, he would let them fall.

With the late afternoon sun painting his dorm room a warm orange, they laid together on his bed in silence. They could hear their classmates in their own rooms and the occasional ding of the elevator as it stopped on the floor. Some of them came to his door to see if he was there, his friends curious as to what could possibly make him skip class if he was off of work study duty. Not once did they give any indication that they were in the room though, unwilling to invite anyone into their space for the time being.

After hours of stillness and peace, Katsuki turned to meet her eye when she continually shifted beside him.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured, fingers absently running over her shoulder.

She sighed. “During that first appointment, they offered to do a blood test to determine risk factors for certain genetic conditions. Recovery Girl encouraged me to get it even though I had already decided what was going to happen. When they gave me my discharge papers they told me the results were there too.”

“You’re worried that’ll say something about why they wouldn’t have…?”

“No,” she said, voice wavering as her bottom lip began to tremble. “That blood test could also determine gender.”

He felt his chest constrict even more at her words and he watched as a tear rolled down her cheek to land on his pillowcase.

“It hurts enough to know that we don’t get to meet them,” she whispered. “I don’t know if it will hurt us more to know if we lost a son or a daughter.”

It made sense in a way. Gender never particularly mattered to him so all this time he had been picturing her with a baby bump and on one or two rare occasions, just a sleeping baby swaddled in a blanket with no real defining features had entered his thoughts. Learning something about the child they would never meet, though, would paint pictures of a future impossible to live.

First a little boy who would probably end up looking like he did as a toddler, big red eyes and spiky hair, though probably colored like hers or maybe even just a different blonde than his own. Little skull shirts like the ones he had worn at that age were probably still easy enough to come by and if not, his parents rarely ever got rid of clothes due to the cyclical nature of fashion. As far as a quirk, it could have gone either way—explosions or hearing the future were both great quirks to have but he couldn’t help but picture a little boy discovering he could blow up his toys.

As for a little girl, he could only picture ash blonde hair and darker red eyes gazing up at him with a pouty look. Her hair wouldn’t be as spiky, it would lie more like her mother’s, bouncing as she ran about. Dresses could probably have skull prints he decided, and even if they didn’t he was sure his parents could make a few. If his little girl didn’t like dresses the skull shirts could be put on her too. And her quirk he had to picture as a combination—he thought that pressing her palms onto someone’s bare skin would allow her some kind of foresight into their future.

Both images left him hurt, and he could only think that his girlfriend had probably made her own determinations about the child now too. Maybe part of what hurt was the unknown, he thought. He didn’t know if it would truly make any difference to know but he had made up his mind.

“Maybe it’ll hurt,” he agreed, “but maybe it’s something we need to do. I think we should look.”

She hesitated, worrying her lip between her teeth, before nodding and starting to sit up. He quickly laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

“I’ve got it.”

He easily rolled off the bed and crossed to his desk where the paperwork sat. Rifling through the headers he found the blood test and grabbed both sheets before making his way back to her.

He tilted them towards her. “Do you want to look?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I want you to look and tell me.”

With a deep breath he glanced down at the paperwork and began scanning through the results and test descriptions. He only vaguely registered what he was reading until his eyes landed on one word that drew a thousand new pictures in his mind.

Male.

A/N: I debated posting this for a while before deciding that its important to explore these subjects and emotions. I truly hope I’ve done them justice. 

[breakingsomething]

october tenth - part four (end)

basic summary: while jack bonds with chase and someone new, anti tries to fight back his ever growing pain by making many, many bad decisions. tagging @beebmo for inspiring this idea!

trigger warnings: blood, murder mention, self harm, suicidal ideation, knives

aiden finally came home five days after their fight.

jack had just been making coffee, wearing only his flamingo shorts and a pair of mismatched socks. no one was here anyway, and he had a few videos prerecorded, so he didn't really have to do much of anything. might as well just do whatever. he let his head hit the kitchen sideboard, half falling asleep standing up as he waited for the coffee maker to finish.

when he sat up, aiden was standing next to the door.

"bloody mother of mary, aiden!" jack cried, jumping and accidentally slamming his elbow into the table. then he took a closer look at him. aiden looked… so tired. big bags under his eyes, curly hair greasy and skin pale. he was wearing an oversized purple hoodie that jack didn't recognize, and he was staring at the ground in front of him, not daring to look up.

"oh, shit, aiden," jack murmured, much softer. he wasn't sure what to do, nervously cracking his knuckles and rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm - i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have hidden it from you, i shouldn't have tried to hide it, i should have -"

aiden cut him off. "save it," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "it's cool. i don't wanna talk about it anymore."

jack nodded, his eyes suddenly burning. the coffee maker pinged, and he turned and busied himself with that, afraid that if he kept looking at aiden he'd start crying again. he'd been doing enough of that lately.

aiden was suddenly standing beside him. "i'd hug you," he joked. "but you're not wearing a shirt and it might be a bit weird."

jack cracked a small grin, and aiden just stared into the sink, neither one looking at the other. everything felt very odd between them for some reason. like in the few days they'd been apart, the distance between them had stretched for another thousand miles.

"so you're… aiden, you're gonna stay here, right?" jack asked tentatively, not wanting to set him off again. aiden's expression soured, his eyebrows narrowing, and his fingers dug into his sleeve.

"don't call me that." he almost spat, and jack set down his mug to properly look at him.

"call you… aid, that's your name. what else -"

"anti," he said, not glancing up from the sink. "call me anti."

they were silent for a moment. and for that moment, jack saw something in his friend that made his heart feel so much heavier than he could have imagined. something that he couldn't have explained if he tried. it was like the pain of losing something important to you. the pain of looking at something you love and knowing it's not going to be around much longer. and just the thought of that made jack's eyes well up with tears, and he turned away before he pulled his friend into a hug and never let go.

"ok," he said quietly. "ok."

-

nothing was the same.

despite staying in the same house as him, aiden was definitely avoiding jack. he barely saw him, and when he did, they almost never spoke. and when they did… jack couldn't bring himself to call his friend "anti." the name felt so… harsh. so painful. like aiden had just rejected everything that jack had ever made him, given him, those almost four years of friendship. was jack really that much of a terrible friend that aiden would just throw everything away?

apparently so. but soon, jack found something else to distract himself with - an unnamed number he recognized calling him up one morning while he was washing dishes. he'd raced into the living room to answer it upon hearing the default ringtone, but aiden was already there, holding it out to him without looking.

"it's the hat wearing one," he said nonchalantly, staring down at his laptop screen. jack bit his lip and took the phone, wondering if aiden was hoping he wouldn't answer, if he was supposed to put the phone down and tell aiden he was the only one who mattered. but his friend's expression gave nothing away, and jack uncertainly left the room and stood outside the door, answering the call.

"...chase?" he faltered. "that you?"

he heard a breath on the other end of the line. jack leaned against the wall, hitting his head again it gently.

"is this a butt dial call?" he tried to lighten the tension. "or one of the kids? hello, connor, louise, is that you?"

another second of silence. jack hesitated.

"if… if this is one of the kids…" he started. "can you tell your father i'm sorry i freaked him out, and i'm sorry i didn't tell him the whole truth straight away when i should have? i only made things worse for all of us, and i was stupid. will you tell him that? please?"

there was a small chuckle. "hey. it's just me," chase murmured. "just me. sorry to disappoint."

jack snorted, a smile appearing on his lips. "aw man, get off the line. put connor on the phone." relief filled him when chase laughed, a full, real laugh. then he sighed, biting his lip. "listen, chase… i -"

"can we talk irl?" chase interrupted. "i, uh, don't have a lot to do today and… i wanna get out the house anyway."

jack nodded, feeling dumb when he remembered chase couldn't see him. "yeah, sure, absolutely," he said, running a hand through his hair. ugh, he could feel how greasy it was. he had been wearing a hat for videos because he'd been too lazy to wash it. "let me take a shower first. then we can… costa?"

he heard chase exhale. "yeah, yeah. costa sounds good right now."

once he'd hung up, jack had to go through the living room to get to his own room. aiden barely looked up at him as he passed through, pausing hesitantly by the stairs. "aid - anti?" he questioned. "are you alright?"

aiden grunted, not taking his eyes off his laptop. jack waited for a second before speaking again. "i'm going out with chase." at this, aiden blinked, his expression changing for only a split second before he got it under control again. he didn't reply for a moment.

"good for you," he mumbled, and pulled his computer closer to him so it covered his face. jack sighed before going up the stairs to get ready.

once he'd showered and gotten changed, he took a moment to just look at himself in the mirror. he looked exhausted. he'd barely been sleeping lately, opting to cover the bags under his eyes in makeup so no fans would be concerned for him. his hair was getting too long, swooping almost in front of his eyes. he would have to get that cut soon. his lips were chapped and slightly bloody from how often he bit them, and his skin was blotchy from how much he'd been crying. he looked exhausted. he looked pathetic.

he tried again with aiden on the way out. "hey, man. i'm… you're gonna be ok here?"

aiden finally looked up at that, unamused. "yes, jack. i will be fine on my own." he monotoned, and jack winced. "go do your thing with jinx hat. i'll be perfectly fine, thanks for the concern."

jack swallowed and left without another word.

chase was waiting for him in costa, biting his knuckles and staring out the window. jack nearly lost all courage and turned round, but really… he had nothing left to lose at this point. besides, chase had seen him through the glass and had visibly brightened, sitting up and waving. despite himself, jack smiled as he went inside.

"hey," he said as he sat down across from him. chase looked tired too, but he managed a smile. "how have, uh… how've you been holding up?"

chase shrugged, spreading his hands out. "'bout as well as i can be," he said casually, spinning his phone round the table on its pop socket. "everything's been a bit… hectic, recently. i don't know. what about you?"

jack mimicked chase's shrug. "same for me, i guess." he hesitated. "look, i'm sorry about… the subway thing. that was a lot, and i'm sorry."

chase gave a shuddering breath. "oh, yeah, that was definitely a lot." he glanced up, tilting his head back slightly on his chair. "but i'm totally over it." he laughed. "actually, no, i'm very much not. i don't know why i said that."

jack nodded. "do you want me to try and explain?"

"oh, please do."

they got up and ordered (a green tea with a white chocolate and raspberry muffin for chase, a flat white coffee and chocolate chip cookie for jack), and talked quietly as they did so. well, this time jack mostly talked, chase listening. by the time they'd sat back down with their stuff, jack had pretty much filled him in on everything.

"holy crap," chase murmured. "that's… a lot. once again."

"are you alright?" jack asked. "i get that i, like, just blew your entire existence. if that makes any sense."

"give me a couple minutes to come to terms with this," chase said, sipping his drink. they were silent, both lost in their own heads.

"this is a prank," chase eventually concluded, turning to look jack right in the eyes. "right? where are the cameras or whatever, is this some kind of prank show that you're a part of?" he laughed without humor. "very funny, you really got me."

"chase, i swear -" jack started, but chase cut him off.

"i looked up that youtube channel you told me about," he said. "jacksepticeye? looked it up. it doesn't exist. shit's not real. god, you could have at least tried."

jack blinked in shock. "but it - it does!" he spluttered. he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. "here, i'll show -"

"i'm not a complete goddamn moron, jack," chase muttered, but then jack pulled up his channel which was, thankfully, still there, and chase's eyes widened.

"but i - i looked it up last night on my computer - there was nothing!" he stammered. he slumped back in his seat. "i swear, there was - i'm not lying!"

jack shifted in his seat, suddenly restless. "i don't know. i don't know, ok? maybe you spelled it wrong." and before chase could protest further, jack changed the subject. "anyway, fuck. i don't wanna think about all the technical improbabilities of this fucking world. i don't even know what i am to be able to create people."

chase fanned his face with his hands, breathing heavily. "fuck!" he said, a bit too loudly. "fuck, man." he suddenly stilled. "so does your friend hate me? aiden?"

jack paused before nodding slowly. "uh, at the moment, yes. but… maybe if you got to know each other, that could change?" he winced. "i don't know. that sounds dumb. but… what do you think?"

chase unwrapped his muffin, also nodding. "i mean, yeah. i'd be down. if you're certain he wouldn't kill me."

jack laughed, relaxing slightly. "he wouldn't kill you, man. he's just… he's a bit aggressive sometimes. he's got some antisocial tendencies. and he's, uh, a bit… doesn't like new people."

"yeah, i definitely got that," chase said, and they both laughed.

a few days passed by. chase and jack kept in touch, meeting up a few times to walk around town and talk. aiden continued to avoid talking to jack. and with the end of september came a burst of extreme cold so bad that school was briefly cancelled and everyone was to stay inside as much as possible.

"it's never this cold, even in england," jack joked to aiden, who was sitting at the kitchen table on his phone. he didn't even acknowledge jack had spoken.

suddenly, he'd had enough. "are you ever going to talk to me again?" he demanded. aiden made a face, and jack felt anger and hurt rising up in his chest. "please, aiden, anti, whatever, can you just -"

"hard to want to talk to you when you won't even respect my choice to change my name," aiden interrupted, and jack deflated. he blinked away the tears that rose up in his eyes.

"anti," he said finally. anti looked up, something in his eyes that jack didn't recognize. "anti. i'm sorry i've been such a douche. ok? i'm - what else do you want, man?"

anti didn't say anything. then he craned his neck to look at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair. "dunno," he mumbled. "to go back in time, i guess."

that wasn't something jack could do. he chewed the inside of his mouth and stayed quiet.

-

anti stared at the flats, biting his lip with frustration.

they'd fucking spelled the place. anywhere he tried to get in just shocked him, so badly he couldn't seem to push through. had it been the cat who'd done it, or something other powerful magician that the two of them knew? it didn't matter. he couldn't fucking get in.

he cursed red and the cat under his breath. they were smart, he could see that. and powerful. far too powerful. it might even end up that they could be a match for anti.

whatever. they couldn't stay in there forever. he'd get them one day. one day. and then they'd fucking pay.

-

chase called him that night in tears.

"chase - chase, calm, i can't understand what you're saying," jack said, pacing the kitchen with his phone to his ear. anti, on the couch in the other room, snorted loudly.

"she's k-kicking me out," chase sobbed, voice slightly slurred. jack could hear car horns in the background. "she says 'm a bad example for th'kids, says she's afraid i'll - i'll hurt -" he cried out, the connection fuzzing for a moment. "i wouldn't hurt them, jack!"

"hey, hey, i know you wouldn't," jack consoled, trying to stay calm. "chase, where are you?"

there was a rush of noise on the other end and then the call went dead.

"f- oh, for fuck's sake!" jack despaired. he went round the corner to the living room, looking in at anti. "dude, can you help me?"

anti yawned dramatically, stretching his arms above his head. "with what?" he asked slowly, knowing exactly what jack was going to ask.

"chase is - his wife kicked him out, apparently, he sounded drunk and upset, i need you to help me find him. you can track cell phone signals, right?" jack blurted. anti sighed, rolling his eyes.

"hmm, some days i can. other days i just… can't, you know?" anti said with a small smirk. jack balled his fists up and resisted the urge to scream.

"anti, for fuck's sake, i am not kidding around tonight," jack spat, practically shaking with silent rage. "can you help me or should i go out looking for him myself?"

anti blinked at jack's anger. he evidently hadn't been expecting jack to be so upset. "ok, yeah, i can track signals," he mumbled. he got to his feet, swaying slightly on the spot. "i'll - fuck, i guess i'll help if you want."

"thank you, anti," jack said softly. anti just made a noise and grabbed his jacket, going towards the door.

anti traced the signal all right, but the time they got to where it had been, chase was long gone. anti tried to find the signal again to locate where chase's phone was now, but in such a big city with so many people, everything got muddled up into one. they searched for hours, to no avail, and went home defeated.

"can't believe i wasted my evening on that fucker," anti announced as they walked back in. "fucking waste of time, waste of a good -"

"thanks anyway," jack interrupted before anti could go on a spiel. "you, uh, didn't have to help me, but thank you for doing that. even if we - yeah."

anti softened for just a moment, brown eyes warming, before glancing away from jack and stiffening again. "whatever," he mumbled, and said nothing more.

chase called him the next afternoon. "jack!" he said, sounding a lot more chipper than jack had expected him to. "jack, my friend, i have something awesome to tell you!"

jack furrowed his brow. "didn't your - man, are you ok? where were you last night?"

he could almost hear chase grinning. "stayed with my new friend henrik!" he said. "and i think you'll definitely want to meet him!"

jack yawned, rubbing the space between his eyes. "mmhmm, yeah. chase, do you have any idea how long me and anti spent searching for you last night?"

chase paused. "oh, shit. man, i'm - i'm sorry. i got… extremely drunk." he gave an embarrassed laugh. "really sorry. i meant to call again."

"yeah, it's cool," jack said, shaking his head. "i'm sorry about your wife, man, it's a shitty situation. why do you want me to meet your friend?"

"oh, you definitely will," chase said, and jack could hear someone shout something in the background. "i'm fucking hungover as all hell, dude, and i feel like absolute shit in every sense, but i think we should meet up. uh, maybe tomorrow, cause i think i might throw up sometime very soon. can we do that? i need something to take my mind off of, well, everything."

jack heard a crash from the other room, and anti cursing loudly. "uh, yeah, if you wanna. where?"

"i'm - i'm pretty broke, not gonna lie. henrik's pretty well off at the moment, but we decided to go cheap. you ok with mcdonalds?"

jack peeked into the living room. anti had dropped his glass of water, and it had smashed on the floor. he was on his hands and knees, attempting to pick up the pieces. "yeah, sounds cool. i gotta go, k?"

"yep!" chase said cheerfully. "see you at maybe twelve or so tomorrow?"

jack made a noise of affirmation and hung up, rushing into the living room. "anti, you ok?"

he didn't say anything, just continued trying to pick up the glass with his hands. jack sighed. "man, don't do that, you're gonna hurt yourself."

"don't give a shit," anti mumbled. he gave a small gasp and dropped a piece, grabbing at his wrist.

"aid - fuck's sake, get back." jack pushed anti's hands away and scooped up the glass with a dustpan. "how did you drop the glass, did you trip or something?"

anti made several odd noises. "hands are just really shaky lately," he said quietly, and when jack turned to look at him, there was blood slowly dripping down his arm.

"shit," jack groaned. he took the glass and dumped it in a bag before putting it in the outside bin. "i'll help -"

"i'm ok," anti insisted. he stood up, shaking out his hands. "i can deal with it myself."

"anti, wait," jack protested, and in a moment of desperation, grabbed anti's arm as he tried to bolt away to his room. anti gasped in pain and shoved jack off him, pushing him into the wall.

"fuck off, jay!" anti said angrily. he held his arm close to him - the arm he hadn't hurt with the glass, jack noticed. "seriously, mind your own!"

"anti, are you hurt?" jack frowned. anti stepped back onto the stairs, shaking.

"yeah, i just cut my bloody hand with a piece of fucking glass. you were right there." anti spat. "now i'm gonna go up to my room, if you don't mind."

jack couldn't even protest as anti glitched out of sight. somewhere above him, a door slammed.

-

oh, but it hurt.

not the cut on his hand. that was barely a scratch. but his body. oh, his body fucking burned. every inch of his body was constantly wracked with pain, like permanent pins and needles throughout his entire being. anti had never hurt like this all at once before.

and it was constant. constant. for nearly three weeks now, he had been like this; barely able to move half the time, his head throbbing and feeling like a thick soup. some days he physically could not move, no matter how much he tried. he wouldn't even be able to speak or cry out for jack, not that he would have even if he could. he became static at random times, his phone and laptop short circuited, he was constantly sick and depressed and so, so angry.

and he'd tried everything to fix it, everything. he'd drank a shitton of alcohol one night, resulting in a seizure that lasted almost a full minute. he'd went out running, thinking maybe the exercise would help, but that had somehow made it worse. he'd even tried causing himself voluntary pain, like that would help the rest of the pain dull, but it did nothing. everything hurt. everything hurt.

he was dying. that was the idea that had planted itself in his brain, and he couldn't shake it out. he was dying and it would only be a matter of time before he couldn't physically form at all, left just a glitching husk of nothingness, and then gone entirely. no one would notice but jack. no one would even notice but jack.

and maybe… his mind drifted to rhudy. rhudy who was so nice to him. rhudy who didn't lie to him or abandon him. anti almost wanted to go see him.

anti was going to die and it was jack's fault.

he's trying to kill you, was the delusion that he had convinced himself was truth. jack wanted him dead so he could spend all his time with chase, so that he could find the doctor and the hero and the magician, the ones who weren't broken and fucked up like anti was. he wanted anti gone. he wanted anti dead.

anti hugged himself and tried not to shake or throw up. he felt so fucking replused with himself, with everything.

he wanted to go see rhudy. he wanted to, but he didn't want jack asking questions, he didn't want to talk to jack at all. feeling sick, he sat up on his bed and let out a shuddering sigh. he wanted to go see rhudy.

maybe he didn't have to tell jack, he suddenly thought. it wasn't like he'd care anyway. as soon as that thought entered his mind, he stood right up, his head rushing from the movement. anti stumbled over to the window, yanking it open despite how his bandaged arms screamed in pain, and swung his legs over the windowsill. he was on the second floor, and it was maybe five meters or so to the ground - not enough to kill him. he pushed off the sill and glitched before hitting the grass, landing safely with a soft thump. for a second he doubled over, nearly screaming from the sudden pain, then straightened and began to jog unsteadily in the direction of the high street.

it was starting to get dark as he reached the store. he could see rhudy standing out the front, smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone. even from here, anti could see he had google open and was searching up "ikeas near me." he almost laughed as he walked over, swaying on his feet as his legs burned.

rhudy looked up as he got closer, a grin breaking across his face. "hey, anti, what are you doing here this time of day?" he asked warmly. then his smile faded as he saw the state anti was in. "hey man, you ok?"

anti didn't say a word. he just threw his arms around rhudy's neck, holding on tightly as his legs gave out beneath him.

"anti!" rhudy exclaimed. he helped anti walk over to the shop door, unlocking it with a key from his pocket. "shit, man, what's up?"

anti groaned, clinging to rhudy's shoulder. "you own this store?" he mumbled.

"uh, yeah, i do," he said, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights. "i might have forgot to mention. you're hurting, aren't you? i can't - usually i can figure out reasons, but not now, for some reason."

he helped anti sit down in a chair at the side of the room near a stack of vinyls. anti didn't usually spend a lot of time in the main section of the store, so while rhudy rushed to the back to get him some water, he took a minute to properly look around. the store looked a lot smaller in the busy hours when there were tons of people, but he could now see how big it actually was. everything was in rows and stacks, signs detailing what sections each thing was in hanging from the ceiling. the walls were a light green and windows stretched all the way round them, letting in the soft evening lights and showing off the streets outside. it made anti feel very exposed, and he curled in on himself, hugging his shoulders.

"here," rhudy said, handing him a plastic bottle and sitting down next to him. anti smile gratefully and took several gulps, his hands still trembling so badly he spilled some water down his front.

"are you ok, man?" rhudy asked quietly. "you're shaking, what happened?"

"nothing," anti murmured, attempting to screw the cap back on the bottle. after a moment of watching him struggle, rhudy took it and did it himself, letting out a small laugh as anti's face turned red and he mumbled a thanks under his breath.

"are you sure it was nothing?" rhudy said. he turned his head to look at anti properly, his brown eyes looking more orange in this lighting. "you can tell me if something's wrong, you know."

anti made a small noise. "can we play some music, or - or something?" he asked, staring down at his bouncing legs. his mind was racing, he needed some kind of fucking distraction.

rhudy nodded, jumping to his feet. "what do you want on? any preferences?" he stopped and made fingers guns at the air, hair falling in his face. "wait, don't tell me. you like…" he suddenly giggled. "you like queen?"

despite it all, a grin spread across anti's face. "wow, you can tell just by looking at me?" he joked, and rhudy laughed as he crossed the room, popping out a vinyl of queen's a night at the opera and holding it up for anti to see before putting it in its player. anti smiled even wider, a pang of something hurting in his chest.

the first few notes of bohemian rhapsody began to play, and rhudy danced round back to anti, clicking his fingers and spinning in circles.

"is this the real life?" he sang dramatically, and anti couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous he looked and sounded. "or is this just fantasy? caught in a landslide, no escape from reality…"

he grabbed anti's hand and pulled him to his feet, twirling him round despite his noises of protest. "i'm just a poor boy, i need no sympathy!" he cried, and anti giggled.

"you're a dumbass!" he grinned, and rhudy raised an eyebrow.

"sing with me then, asshole. you can definitely sing." he challenged.

"is that the clairvoyance talking?" anti asked.

rhudy raised his chin. "let's find out!"

he grabbed anti's hand and pulled him close to his chest. "any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me…"

anti joined in at the next part. "...to me!"

the two of them swayed on the spot, giggling like idiots as they tried to sing. and for some reason, anti suddenly didn't care if anyone looked through the window and saw them. he couldn't even feel the pain anymore. all that mattered was this. not jack, not chase. just this. this man, this song, this fucking moment.

he was sure they both looked ridiculous. rhudy was not the greatest singer, and really, neither was anti, but they both knew all the words and that was what mattered. "too late, my time has come," they sang in unison. "sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time…"

anti paused to take a drink, and rhudy continued dancing by himself, leaving a gap and holding his arms out like he was holding a partner. when anti laughed and joined him again, rhudy twirled him round and nearly dropped him. "mama, ooh!" he crooned. "i don't wanna die, sometimes i wish i'd never been born at all!"

rhudy grabbed his guitar from the table behind him and attempted to play it along with the song but it was too fast and he gave up, pretending to play it instead. as the song sped up, so did they, taking turns singing the galileo's and bursting into fits of laughter.

"so you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?" rhudy yelled, pulling anti closer to him and laughing breathlessly.

"so you think you can love me and leave me to die?" anti yelled after him, and at that point they gave up on singing and collapsed to the floor next to a record stand, wheezing and catching their breaths. and fuck, fuck, it was such a warm, joyful feeling, and for a moment anti didn't even feel any pain, just happiness. all he wanted was to feel like this forever. he wished there was a way he could feel like this forever and never have to stop.

rhudy turned to him, and suddenly their faces were very, very close. far too close. anti's smile faded slightly. this was normal, right? this was how normal people found happiness?

maybe he could feel like this forever.

anti had, obviously, never kissed anyone before. doing so felt… odd, to say the least. it didn't feel like much of anything except touching faces with someone else. but this had to be it, the solution to his problems. this had to be what would make him happy. he'd been so happy while they were dancing and talking… this had to be what those feelings were. it had to be.

and maybe it did feel nice to be so close to another person, and that was what mattered.

he moved his head back to take a breath. rhudy opened his eyes wide, blinking. this close, anti could see pale freckles dotted across rhudy's nose.

"oh," rhudy said softly.

"shit," anti said just as softly.

he kissed him again and it felt wrong and right and it distracted him from the pain and anti never wanted to stop.

the song had ended. the room was getting very dark, as the lights had long ago flickered out. he let out a breath, almost too overwhelmed to speak.

"i - i should close up," rhudy murmured against anti's mouth.

"do that," anti said. "i - i don't really have anywhere to go tonight."

that was a lie.

"you can stay at mine," rhudy said. "if you want."

anti still had time to back out.

"i do want."

-

the next afternoon, jack was getting ready to go out again.

he wasn't really surprised that anti had gone out. he was more surprised that he had snuck out the window. had he wanted to avoid jack that badly? actually, maybe he wasn't surprised. jack sighed as he attempted to fix his hair in the mirror despite how it kept standing straight up at the ends. whatever. it wasn't like he cared at this point.

chase texted him to let him know he and henrik were inside the mcdonalds. it was crowded, and two little kids slammed into jack's legs as they ran out. frowning, he tried to scan the crowd to see his friend through all the people. he'd said he'd gotten a table, so maybe - ah, there he was, up against the wall and waving cheerily at him despite his clearly tear splotched face, and there was someone with him, someone…

jack stopped walking right in the middle of all the people and didn't breathe.

"jack!" chase called, standing up and beckoning him over. jack almost couldn't move. the man next to chase looked confused as well, tapping his arm rapidly and saying something jack couldn't hear. he slowly walked over to their table, his legs feeling like jelly.

"jack, meet henrik!" chase beamed, gesturing towards the other man. the man who, like chase, like anti… looked exactly like himself.

"hey," jack murmured, sitting down tentatively across from the other two. henrik nodded, mouth hanging open slightly in shock.

"henrik, this is jack," chase said, twirling his hand around. they both bobbed their heads up and down, staring at each other.

"it is… nice to meet you?" henrik said uncertainly, and jack jolted at his german accent. holy shit, it was him. it was him. henrik stretched his hand across the table for jack to shake, and he took it. "henrik von schneeplestein, if you please."

"jack… mcloughlin," he said, forcing a smile. then he turned to chase. "chase, can i talk to you for a second?"

chase frowned. "uh, yeah, sure," he said, and jack stood and walked over to the other side of the room, grabbing chase's arm as he followed him.

"dude, what the fuck? we've left henrik alone over there!" chase hissed.

"chase, i - where did you find this guy? how do you know him?" jack asked.

chase yawned, scrubbing at his face. "met him at a bar, his wife has just kicked him out too. we bonded over it, apparently." he laughed. "we didn't recognize that we had the same face until later."

jack glanced over at the man, who was awkwardly scrolling through his phone at the table. his mind literally could not wrap around it.

"he's a practicing doctor," chase said, snapping him from his thoughts. "studying at the local university. is this guy… is this guy the doctor you told me about? the one you made to help aiden?"

"i think so," jack said. "this is - this is fucking weird." he turned to chase. "did you tell him?"

"what, that everything he knows is fake and he's not even real?" chase snorted, fixing the brim of his cap. "no, i didn't. i barely believe it myself, i'm still convinced this is a very elaborate prank. i'm only going along with this because it'll get a lot of views on my channel if we can make this funny enough."

jack rolled his eyes and began to go back to the table. "sure, whatever."

henrik smiled as they sat back down. "everything ok?" he asked, tapping his fingers on the table. as he looked at the two of them, jack noticed a few slight differences between himself and henrik and chase. henrik's hair was flatter with a small streak of grey, and his eyes were a much lighter blue. chase looked almost younger than jack, and there were a few freckles splattered across his face that jack was sure hadn't been there the last time he'd seen him. it was so surreal, knowing he had somehow brought them into existence. that if anti's theory was correct, they were pieces of his soul. the thought made him feel almost sick.

"yeah, it's fine," jack said. "do you guys, uh, wanna get food?"

"i would," henrik nodded. "then maybe we can talk about why you are my exact copy and chase did not think to tell me this."

-

this ceiling wasn't his. these walls weren't his. this room wasn't his.

anti blinked at the lights streaming through the windows for almost thirty seconds before he remembered.

shit. oh shit, oh shit, please say he hadn't done what he thought he had. he sat straight up, panic coursing through him, and - nope, this wasn't his bed. he was shirtless, and rhudy was laying beside him, asleep.

ok. ok. this was fine, anti reassured himself, fumbling for his clothes. this was fine. rhudy stirred slightly, making a small sound in his throat. anti felt sick.

because it wasn't fine. nothing was fine anymore. he fucking hated this, he hated it and he wasn't supposed to. he had been so happy last night - why hadn't this fixed him? why had he been having a good time until he kissed rhudy, why had he convinced himself this was what would help him? jesus fuck, anti was going to be sick. he was going to be sick.

he was going to have to kill him.

that was the only thought in his panic stricken brain. kill rhudy and get the fuck out of there, go back to jack, maybe kill him too if he still felt like it. anti frantically began getting dressed, looking for his knife in his hoodie pocket. it was still there, thankfully. he unfolded it grimly, tapping it against his hand as he breathed heavily, trying not to scream. bile rose in his throat as he looked down at the other man, thinking about slitting his throat.

he'd done it before. why couldn't he do it now, why was he suddenly scared? why had he formed an emotional attachment? he grabbed at his hair, his knife dangerously close to his face. this was fucking pathetic. he took several deep breaths, and lowered the knife to where rhudy was laying. right next to his throat.

why couldn't he do it? what the fuck was wrong with him?

he didn't have time to think about it, because rhudy's was awake and he was staring at anti, eyes wide, almost not daring to move.

"anti?" he said, shocked. "what are you -"

anti yelped and leaped off the bed, stumbling back into the wall as rhudy sat up, holding both hands up next to his head. "hey, hey!" he cried, and he looked terrified, and anti held up the knife in front of him, warning him not to move.

"d-d-don't -" anti stammered, but suddenly his voice wouldn't cooperate and neither would his body. he glitched wildly, yanking his hair and crying out through the pain ripping through him, almost collapsing from the agony that had come out of nowhere. after he'd collected himself, he managed to glance up, still holding onto his head. rhudy was just… looking. just looking. horrified. anti stared back, far too aware for how disgusting he looked, half formed and probably insane. this had been a mistake. this had always been a fucking mistake.

he glitched away and rhudy didn't move to stop him.

-

his face burned.

it wasn't just from the humiliation of what had just happened, either. it felt like an actual, genuine burn, like someone was dragging a lighter down his cheek. as he quickly darted down the streets, getting as far away from rhudy's place as possible, he swiped at his face with his sleeve, trying to figure out what it was. something wet - blood, he assumed, but his sleeve wasn't stained when he pulled away, and when he touched his face with his hand it came away clear, like water, like -

oh, oh. like tears. anti was crying.

he had never cried before. never. he gasped and scrubbed at his skin fiercely, ignoring the pain. why did it burn? jack had cried before, he never told him it burned so bad, oh, it hurt. he gritted his teeth and pushed through it. fuck, he couldn't go home in this state.

he decided to just go get food at the mcdonalds near the park. might as well. it was pretty crowded, which anti was fine with; no one would notice him in a crowd. no one, except… his mouth dropped open when he saw. surely not. surely not here.

chase, sitting at a table across the room, saw him first. he tapped jack's arm, and he turned around to see him, along with the other man who was next to him. three of them. last anti had checked, that was one too many. the other man wasn't the hero, wasn't the magician… he must have been the doctor, finally found. anti looked away from them, too overwhelmed with everything to even care.

once he'd ordered and calmed himself down, he casually wandered over to their table, slamming both hands down on the surface and grinning wickedly. "hey there, assholes," he said, delighting in how chase and the doctor jumped at his sudden movement. jack just sighed. anti tilted his head at the man next to chase. "doctor schneeplestein, i presume?"

"how do you -" the man started, and anti just laughed. he was fucking furious all of a sudden, and just this man's presence was making it worse. "who are you?"

anti pulled his signature move of turning his eyes black, smirking. "is it cliche to say your worst nightmare?"

"anti," jack interrupted, about to stand, but anti pushed him down again forcefully. that didn't stop him from trying, though, and he struggled against anti's hand. "stop this, man, please."

anti was about to say something else, probably a snappy comeback or something, when jack's brow furrowed and he looked concerned. "anti, what happened to your face?"

anti snorted. "what do you mean?"

jack shrugged anti off and stood, too close to anti's face. "man, there's a big - it looks like a long, thin, burn mark, anti, what did you do?"

"i didn't do anything!" he protested, but then jack held up his phone on the front camera and - oh. he did have a long, thin burn mark on his cheek, trailing down from his right eye. oh, shit.

anti took several steps back, not wanting to look. he glared at the three man, frantically trying to think of something else to say that would put him back in control.

"order 107!" called a woman behind the counter, and anti glanced at his receipt. that was him. as he went up to collect his order, jack scrambled over to talk to him.

"anti, anti," he said breathlessly. "fuck, are you alright? where did you, uh, go last night?"

anti laughed without humour. "you wouldn't believe me if i told you."

jack made a noise of resignation and shook his head. "ok, sure, be vague about it. listen, i'm… i'm going to talk more with chase and henrik, ok? i -"

"ooh, the doc has a first name?" anti said in a mocking tone. jack threw up his hands.

"jesus shit, anti, listen to me for once! they're going to be round at the house sometimes, and you're going to have to just deal with it, ok? i'm allowed to have other friends apart from you. and these guys… well, you know what the situation is with them. i just… i have to learn more about what i can do, i guess. and i want you to be with me." he tapped anti's shoulder gently, his expression softening. "you're my best friend, dude. you got that? i'm not going to replace you."

but he already was, and he didn't even realize it. anti was dying, and jack didn't know. would he care if anti told him?

jack bit his lip, obviously concerned about anti's lack of a response. "you wanna come sit with us?"

did he? not really. but there was a small part of him that thought, maybe… he should. he should go sit with them and apologize for being an asshole. he should talk with them and find out more about their lives. he should let jack slowly explain everything to them and become friends and tell jack how badly he was hurting and then he'd fix him. wouldn't he? he could just do that. anti was so close to just giving in and letting himself do that.

but once glance at the doctor and the father at the table, looking over at them with confused and worried expressions, was all that anti needed to confirm what he wanted to do.

"no, i don't." anti said firmly. and with that, he turned and left, taking his food and not once looking back.

-

true to jack's word, chase and henrik were round at the house several times in the next three days.

at this point, anti couldn't tell if anyone had told henrik about the whole being-created-by-jack thing, and he didn't care to find out. henrik and chase tried not to be pushy or in his way, which he was slightly grateful for, but just their presence in the house annoyed him. he ended up staying in his room all the time, watching stuff on netflix and hacking phone lines when he got bored. he could often hear talking through his door and would sometimes just sit and listen. it made his chest hurt to hear jack so happy when he was so fucking miserable.

one day he bumped into chase when he left his room to get some food from the kitchen.

"shit, sorry," chase said, holding up a hand apologetically. anti just glared at him until he backed off, grinning awkwardly. "uh, you alright, dude?"

anti was getting pretty sick of people asking if he was ok. "the fuck do you think?" he snarled, taking a step forward. chase flattened himself against the wall, hands in a pose of surrender.

"fuck, man, relax," he said, laughing nervously. "i'll get out of your way."

"you fucking better," anti spat, revelling in the fear in chase's eyes. "or i'll tear your goddamn throat out with my teeth."

chase nodded frantically. "ok, ok, cool, i got it," he babbled, eyes darting back and forth down the hall. anti laughed at how pathetic he looked. he knew he should back away and go back to his room. but suddenly, this just wasn't enough.

"you know, you fucking disgust me!" anti said cheerfully, and chase paled. "i honestly do not know why jack puts up with you. you're so… boring, you know?" he yawned exaggeratedly. "boring, and just plain depressing. you get me? you're genuinely such a misery to be around." he laughed, and chase made a terrified squeak that was like music to anti's ears.

he stepped back, giving chase the room to move even though he chose not to do so, still plastered against the wall. a grin cut through anti's face.

"you don't have many friends, do you, jinx hat?" anti said, still smiling. chase's hand touched his head self consciously. "i wouldn't imagine you did. not many people would miss someone so boring, would they?"

he bounced back to his room, leaving chase alone in the hallway.

-

"anti."

he sighed loudly upon hearing jack's voice, and didn't get up from his bed. "that's me."

he heard jack tap the door gently. "i, uh, have a surprise for you."

anti raised an eyebrow despite jack not being able to see. "yeah? and what's that?" 

"come and see!" jack said, excitement in his voice. "i think you're definitely gonna like this."

anti entertained the idea of ignoring him and going back to sleep. but he was, admittedly, slightly curious, and he was all prepared to be angry if it was a terrible surprise. jack grinned when anti opened the door, clapping his hands together once. "yes! come on, come to my recording room."

"are jinx and the doc here?" he asked suspiciously as they walked across the hall.

"nope! and you know, they have names." jack pushed open his recording room door, gesturing towards his computer. "go and see!"

anti stepped in, glancing around, but he couldn't see anything out of place. the only unusual thing was that jack's computer was on and loaded up to a game. anti frowned and stepped closer, staring at the screen.

"yeah, so you got the new five night's game. so what?" anti said, turning round confusedly. jack grinned.

"you know how when i was sick and you recorded that one video for me?" he said, spreading out his hands. "well… here's a series of your very own! happy early birthday!"

anti couldn't breathe for a second.

"you're… you're letting me…" he swallowed, suddenly feeling very small. "you're gonna let me play it… as you?"

jack laughed and looked down at the floor, rubbing his neck. "yeah, i am," he said. "i've been planning it basically since i heard it was coming out. i figured it'd be fun for you."

anti's breath hitched as he tried to gather words. "i - i, um… thank you, holy shit." he blinked rapidly. "fuck, i… after i've been such an asshole?"

"you're not an asshole," jack said quietly. "i - i've been a dick too, ok? and i feel like this is a… well, a good start."

anti turned back to the computer and watched the loading screen glitch. it was weird to think that he wasn't the one causing it.

"it came out yesterday, but i could only get it now," he heard jack say. he came to stand beside anti, putting a hand on his shoulder. "what do you think?"

anti ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of how to respond. "i'd love to play it," he murmured. "fuck, thank you."

jack hesitated, then pulled him in for a hug. anti nearly burst into tears then and there, too scared to speak or move in case he did. he let jack hold him for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around his friend, resting his face against his shoulder.

"i'm sorry," jack whispered.

a pause.

"me too," anti whispered back.  

-

the game took about two and a half hours to complete. it was strangely terrifying, knowing that people were going to see this, to see him. but he tried his best to keep it cool. at several point he almost had to stop from how much pain his body was in, but he was sure it was fine. he filmed four episodes in all, changing shirts between each one so it wouldn't seem like he'd played the whole game in one day; which, now he thought about it, wouldn't have been that weird for jack. once he'd finished, he considered watching it back to see if he'd made any obvious mistakes in his imitation of jack, but there wouldn't be much he could do to change it now, so he didn't really care that much. he decided to take the liberty of sending the videos to robin himself and then went out to see jack, feeling happier than he had in a long time.

jack was in the kitchen, making popcorn. anti stood at the door for a minute, listening to the popping sounds, before jack noticed him and broke out in a grin. "hey! how was it, did you finish?"

he nodded, suddenly almost shy, looking down at the chair legs. "i sent the videos to robin," he said. "and, uh… thanks again."

"no problem, dude, i'm glad you liked it." the microwave beeped and jack took the bowl out, yelping at how hot it was. "ouch, fucking burning bastard. do you wanna watch a movie or something?"

anti gave a small nod. "if you want. any ideas?"

jack moved past him into the living room, eating the popcorn dry. "well, this movie came out on netflix today. the siege of jadotville. it's irish."

anti snorted. "just the name alone is putting me to sleep."

"did i mention it's irish?"

"irish, smirish, it sounds crap!"

the two of them laughed, and anti felt warm again.

-

the movie was boring, as anti had predicted. he barely stayed awake long enough to get half an hour in before drifting off on the arm of the couch, jack gently playing with his hair. when he woke, it was late afternoon, jack was gone, and a blanket had been draped over him. he sighed warmly, not wanting to move.

"aid - anti? you up?"

he glanced up to see jack coming into the room, looking worried. anti pushed himself to his elbows, yawning. "i am. what's the problem?"

jack raised his arms behind his head, blowing all the air out his cheeks. anti immediately recognized something was wrong and sat up fully, throwing the blanket off him. "jay? what is it? come on, man, spit it out."

jack took a deep breath and folded his hands. "you know how you sent the videos to robin?"

a thick feeling of dread rose up in anti's chest. "yeah?" he said quietly, almost afraid to hear.

jack hesitated before continuing. "the, uh, files got corrupted," he mumbled. "glitches everywhere. it's… unusable, i think. i'm sorry."

neither one of them said anything for a long moment.

"post it anyway," anti said eventually.

jack sighed and sat down next to him on the couch. "dude, i can't. the facecam footage looks terrible, it's always staticy and glitchy, and you can't even be heard at some points -"

"then edit that out!" anti yelled, leaping to his feet. jack got up again right after. "edit that out and post it, it's fine, you let me film that, jack! i've waited years for you to let me appear on the channel!"

jack flinched back, shaking his head. "anti -"

"no!" he screamed, grabbing at his hair. "no, no, that's not fair, it's not my fault!"

"i thought you had your glitching under control?" jack said worriedly, holding out his hands to try and calm anti down.

"i did, i did, i have for years!" the sound of static got even louder, and anti could feel himself slowly losing control again. "it's your fault, it's your fucking fault, it's your fault that i'm dying!"

jack just watched helplessly as anti screamed, clawing at himself and glitching so wildly he couldn't stay together. "anti, i -"

"i've tried everything!" he wailed, his whole body searing with pain as he tried to piece himself back. "i tried drinking, i tried exercising, i tried burning myself, i tried - fuck, i even tried sleeping with my only other friend, nothing works and it's your bloody fault!"

"anti!" jack cried, alarmed. "i -"

someone knocked at the door.

anti whipped round, eyes blazing. "and who's that?"

"well, uh, i think it's chase and henrik - we - we were gonna go out for a bit - anti, wait -"

"oh, come in!" anti called, in a perfect imitation of jack's voice. "door's open!"

the door opened, and anti could hear the two other men chattering as they came inside. jack visibly swallowed. "anti," he said, very softly. "anti, stop."

"jack!" anti heard henrik call in that fucking german accent. "where are we going, i have -"

they stopped dead in the door when they saw what was going on. "is… is this a bad time?" henrik asked tentatively.

"oh no, you're just in time!" anti said, almost hysterically. he grinned, his body stabilizing for just a second. "just in time!" 

another glitch ran through him, and he doubled over from the pain. chase and henrik turned to leave, but anti suddenly appeared in front of them, blocking their path. "oh, don't leave so soon!" he cried. "you'll miss all the fun!"

"anti, aiden, please stop!" jack sobbed, trying to grab anti's arm. he pushed him away, almost too forcefully, and jack slammed into the table behind him. "shit, stop it!" 

but anti's attention was on chase now. chase, who was holding henrik's hand and backing towards the door, shaking. "w-why are you doing this?" chase stammered. "please, dude, we never meant to hurt you!"

anti laughed without mirth, his hand on his pocket. "a bit late for that, jinx!" 

he made a sudden move, grabbing chase's neck in a burning rage and throwing him back into the wall. one of chase's legs shot to and kicked anti's knee, and he stumbled back, henrik attempting to help chase up so they could get out. anti straightened and lunged for henrik this time, wanting to kill him, to kill him, to -

and jack was yanking him back by his hood and trying to get him off -

and anti whirled round and lashed out -

and jack fell, and anti had a knife in his hands, when did he get a knife in his hands -

and jack was on the ground and anti had a knife pressed to his throat.

there was dead, dead silence.

"aiden?" jack said softly.

aiden could see the terror in his eyes.

then someone was pulling him off of him, shoving him to the floor. anti gasped, crying out as the contact sent shocks through his body. henrik, the doctor, standing in front of jack, holding - anti's knife was gone, slipped from his hands. henrik held it, looking so tired yet so fierce. in that moment, anti had to admit he was impressed by how unwavering he was.

"stop this." henrik said. he very deliberately closed the knife and tossed it behind him, where chase was slumped against the wall.

anti got the message and left.

-

three hours later he was on the ground in an alleyway with blood on his hands.

how many people he'd killed, he'd lost track of. so much blood on his hands. he stared at them, shaking so badly it hurt, the uneven ground wet from the earlier rain. he hugged himself, his vision blurring, tasting blood in his mouth.

he could never go home now. never. not after what he'd done, not after the way they'd looked at him.

and with that sudden stabbing realization, the tears that were threatening on the ends of anti's lashes finally fell. and unlike last time, he couldn't do anything to stop them. a great sob tore from his throat and he almost screamed as the water burned his cheeks, his shoulders shaking with pain and the force of his crying. his chest tightened and he could barely breathe. he curled into himself as he sobbed, almost hyperventilating, like a panic attack he couldn't come down from. he'd never felt this kind of distress before - usually his negative feelings manifested in the form of anger, but now it was everything. sadness, rage, fear, grief, all combined into one meltdown. 

he buried his face in his knees and didn't move for several hours. when he finally did, his face stung in the places his tears had rolled down. all the nearby streetlamps had gone out and he was left in darkness. as usual.

-

he was standing just outside the doors to the corner shop, staring into the distance with his hands in his pockets.

jack almost turned and left. almost. but he had to face this eventually, even if his neck still ached with bruises and stung from the small cut anti had given him. he would have to talk to him at some point.

anti turned as he got closer. he must have known jack was there. his expression was completely blank, though jack couldn't help but blach at anti's face as he grew nearer.

"what happened to your face?" were the first words out of his mouth as he got right next to anti. his face was red and blotchy, like he'd been crying, and there were reddish looking scars down his face liked he'd been burned. anti scowled, glancing away and not answering.

they stood in silence for a little while, both wondering what to say. then jack spoke again. "this is it, isn't it." he let out a shuddering breath. "for us."

"i don't know," anti said flatly. "i would believe so."

jack blinked rapidly, swallowing hard and clenching his fists so tightly his nails dug into his palm. "ok."

another pause. the wind blew through their hair, and jack noted how different he and anti really did look, in the end. maybe they had always been like this and jack had never noticed.

"you're not going to post the videos i made." anti said. "you're going to film something entirely different and try to forget i ever existed."

"no," jack said, even though that was almost entirely true.

"i'm not stupid, jack." anti said. "and i hope you know i won't make it easy for you."

jack's breath hitched, and a tear fell from his eye. "i know. you wouldn't be aiden mcloughlin if you did."

"you're not understanding me," anti said, turning his head away slightly. "not that you ever have."

jack closed his eyes. "i wish i could have. i'm sorry."

"no you're not."

"i am, of course i am. i love you."

he opened his eyes to see that anti had vanished.

he said it anyway. 

"happy birthday."

[divineluce]

Southpaw and Witchfire || Adam & Luce

Timing: May 30th, 2020

Location: Deep in the Woods

Tagging: @walker-journal​ & @divineluce​

Description: Kindred spirits in grief, Adam helps Luce work through her pain.

Triggers: Derogatory language CW

When Adam had messaged her, with his stupid offer of fighting, Luce hadn’t taken him seriously. But here she was, in the middle of the forest, her sparring bag slung over her shoulder. About to meet Adam for some kinda… bullshit, punch away your feelings session. Real Fight Club style, just with fewer cult vibes. As she walked into the clearing that she’d been to so many times before, Luce tossed her bag on the ground and began to warm up, swinging her arms. The scratches and bruises she’d sustained while running through the woods had faded away to fresh scars and yellowed skin, and you know? Why the fuck not bring some new ones to the game. She didn’t give a shit. Noticing movement to her right, she looked up and saw Adam walking into the clearing. “Hey. You showed up.” She said with a nod. “I heard you wanna fucking go, bro?” Luce joked, though the words came out more aggressive and threatening than anything else. She didn’t care. She was angry and if he wanted to fucking fight, she’d fucking fight.

There were certain decoctions that could dull a Hunter's strength for a time. Adam had used them when he was very young and terrified of accidentally crippling classmates or a girlfriend in a reflexive burst of superhuman strength. Indeed, Adam had no intention of winning this fight, only surviving it for long enough to maybe give his sparring partner some brief release. The liquid had been absolutely foul, but a numbing sensation and feeling of heaviness signaled that it’d worked its way through his bloodstream. His mutant healing should let himself survive pretty much anything Luce could dish out without guns or fireballs, but now there’d be no danger of him accidentally crushing her ribcage. 

“Yeah,” Adam said, winding athletic tape around his hands. “You’ve kinna been acting like an uppity cunt and your weird carny sister biting it has pretty much made you fucking unbearable. Time for a reality check.” 

Lip curling at his words, Luce stared at him for a moment, her hands shaking at her side. Her carny sister-- How fucking dare you say that about my sister. How fucking dare you.” Gritting her teeth, Luce rifled through her bag and grabbed a pair of MMA gloves. Hand to hand wasn’t her forte, she’d never gotten good at it. Swords, swords were her strength. But, looking at his smug frat boy face, his stupid angular jawline? Luce wanted to beat him into the dirt herself. She wanted to feel him hurt the way she hurt. Which is why she chose the gloves over the blunted training swords or the ratan single stick she had in her bag. The gloves didn’t have much padding, but it would be enough to ensure she didn’t break a bone in her hand when she smashed this fucking asshole’s teeth in. Sliding the black gloves on, she stared at him, her blood boiling with rage. “You’re going to regret saying that shit to me.” She said, thinking about Kaden as she ran at Adam, fists raised and ready.

The Hunter calling being what it was, most of the fighting stances Adam had been trained in were explicitly intended to kill with cold brutal efficiency. Each said style had a specific kind of physiology and type monster movement pattern it was designed to counter. Adam, being a strictly Code-observing Hunter, had intentionally abstained from learning all fighting techniques designed to quickly maim or dispatch other human beings. So today’s stance was nothing fancy. 

Adam stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, left foot turned toward Luce. He made a loose fist with his right hand by his chin with the left hand in front of his face.

Old School boxing stance any coach would teach you. Chin Down. Eyes Up. Don’t Die. 

“Why? She was the only one of you three that had her shit together,” Adam said, making a taunting beckoning with one of his weathered brown MMA gloves as Luce advanced towards him. “Your Mom even fucking said so,” he said bicep’s bunching as opened with a quick Left Jab, the boxing punch typically used to gague your opponent’s distance and defenses in order to step up stronger heavier punches. “You’re the weird lesbian problem girl who...what was it…” Adam feigned a smirking thoughtful expression as he aimed a Right Cross right for Luce’s face. 

“...Hides in her shed,” Adam said in a stilted impression of a Turkish accent. “Let’s face it,” he said, continuing to attempt to circle Luce, throwing  out quick jabs mainly to test what kind of reflexes and guarding he was up against. “Beatrice was fucking carrying both of you…..but when then she actually needed you for once? Where were you?” 

Adam let out a sardonic chuckle, abdominals tightening as he aimed a kick at Luce’s stomach. “Useless, MIA, hiding in your fucking little shed while someone hacked her to pieces. Kinna late to come to her defense now Lucinda,” 

While Adam might have had the advantage of Hunter training, Luce had years of bar fights, run-ins with monsters in the woods, and pure, unadulterated rage on her side. Her untrained eyes didn’t pick up on his stance, or the way he was testing the distance with his jabs. She didn’t give a fuck about technique. “Don’t fucking bring my mother into this.” She growled, smacking his cross out of the way with a rough punch of her own. At his horrible attempt at a Turkish accent, Luce felt her neck burn red. A growl escaped from her throat and she rolled back and forth, ducking and dodging his jabs. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she did her best to make it through the barrage of punches. Adam was stronger than her, taller than her, with longer arms that could throw harder punches than she could. But she’d been through worse. 

When he kicked out at her, Luce sidestepped and caught his leg in the crook of her arm, pinning it to her side. “Shut up! Shut up! You don’t know a fucking thing!” She spat as she punched the inside of his leg with her free hand before pushing him away, trying to send him into the dirt.

Adam had to admit that a little regret about being so thorough when the enervating decoction Luce proved that she could handle herself amply. Even in the dusky forest, Adam could see the faint splot of red-stained yellow on the inside of his leg that signaled there'd be a bruise there pretty soon. Still on the ground he tried to swing out the uninjured leg to try and knock Luce off balance. 

“Really?” The Hunter sprang to his feet and attempted to shove Luce back in one alactious motion, attempting to exploit the leverage of his own brawny frame to knock Luce down. “What I see is a trampy tomboy screw-up who never fit in, so she puts on a scary Alpha Bitch act, but doesn’t actually have what it takes when someone actually needs her.” 

Adam aimed a Left Hook in a wind-up that sent a semi-circular punch towards Luce’s jawline.

Watching Adam tumble to the ground brought some small amount of satisfaction to her. But, that moment was lost when she kicked his leg out and Luce found herself joining him in the grass and dirt as he knocked her off her feet. Scrambling to get back to her feet, to regain the high ground, Luce did her best to avoid his shove. “She told me to stay away!” She yelled, bitter angry tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced them back. She couldn’t allow her vision to cloud. But, as she tried to control her emotions, the punch Adam sent her way clocked her right in the jaw. Her head whipped around and she fell to the ground, stunned. Her teeth bit into the side of her cheek and she could taste blood in her mouth when she hit the earth. Fuck.

Fuck. As she lay there for a moment, head wringing from the shot to the jaw, Luce’s mind was going a mile a minute. If she couldn’t take a goddamn punch in the woods, if she couldn’t handle this then how the fuck was she going to save Bea? How the fuck was she going to do what needed to be done. With a growl, Luce spit out a thin stream of blood and rolled back to her feet. Her hands were low, she didn’t give a fuck about defending. She wanted to make him hurt. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She hissed before lunging at him, her shoulders low as she made an attempt to grapple the man.

“Well of fucking course she did,” Adam grunted at he attempted to catch Luce’s charge. Slayers and Wardens were innately faster then Adam even by the superhuman standards of Hunters, so the less specialized mutant had to leverage raw strength through his size and build in order to pull his weight on Hunts. However Luce wasn’t a Alghoul or Spawn, being lithe and unpredictable in a way only rage can make you. Through a grapple was arguably Adam’s strong point, this was proving more than he’d bargained for. “Why do you think that is?”

“I fought beside Beatrice you know,” Adam pointed out truthfully. “Saved her from a Fext.” The Hunter himself felt really the ‘saving’ had gone both ways there, and the late sorceress had more than held her own. However Adam was trying to incite Luce into giving her all, and dredging up all the rage and fury that you can’t reveal in public when people are endlessly reciting nice-sounding platitudes about your loss. Objective truth wasn’t a priority here. 

“If I’m a stupid mouth-breathing Frat broy,” Adam huffed through gritted teeth, broad shoulders knotting as he tried to force Luce to give ground in the grapple before sheer physically. “What’s that make you Lucinda? If I can come through where you can't?” 

A bare-toothed sneer broke across Adam’s hard jaw-line. “Guess Bea’d still be alive if she’d relied on me ‘stead of you.” 

Face pressed against Adam’s side, Luce held onto him, keeping him close as she began to smash her fist over and over into his stomach and ribs. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up, she thought with every impact of her gloves against his body. “Shut your fucking mouth.” She spat, though the words sent her reeling, almost more than his punches. Bea knew she’d been too weak, too fucking weak to do anything. Which is why she’d told her to stay away. Why she’d told her to protect herself. Because she wasn’t strong enough. 

Feeling the way he was using his muscle mass to try and force her to tap out, to try and wrestle her into submission, Luce twisted and turned, thrashing wildly to escape from him before he could reverse the move. She managed to wrench herself free from his grasp, but she could feel strands of her hair being pulled and torn from her head as she pulled away. “You think I don’t know that?! You think I don’t fucking know that Bea would still be here if someone, if anyone else had known?” She shouted, panting as she backed away from him. Her arms were aching, her lungs heaving. The adrenaline, which had propelled her forward in the fight, was waning and in its wake there was nothing but tiredness. Her anger, while still present, was fading fast. And the numbness, the sadness… that was all that was left. “I know Nell beats herself up for being targeted and for Bea, for Bea saving her. But I wasn’t even there! I should have been there! I should have fucking known!” She howled before throwing herself back at Adam, fists raised halfheartedly. She wanted him to hurt her, to punish her the way she deserved.

Adam had reasoned from what Penelope had told him that the perpetrator of Beatrice’s murder had a high probability of being human, or at least ‘humanish’ (A surprisingly broad category in the paranormal underworld) He hadn’t pressed Nell for any details the other night, not wanting to stir up all that pain. Adam was not a therapist. Thus when he saw Lucinda’s spirit flagging, he perceived the same necessity that had informed his own parents. This was a dark and unforgiving world, and caring for someone means ensuring that they were a survivor by any means necessary. 

“Yeah you should have,” Adam snarled back at Luce  in a baritone made thick by heavy breathing. “What ...the..actual fuck is this….” The Hunter’s harsh voice reaching a deeper note at Luce’s passionless defense. “The fuck you are you doing Luce!?” Adam’s face took on a livid tinge as he began a true assault. “They’re going to kill Nell! Kill you!” The previous ambient bird and animal noises were hushed as Adam’s yelling continued into a stream of dark profanity broken by an unrelenting barrage of uppercuts, right crosses, and kicks. The Hunter no longer bothered with any guarding or dodging, focusing all his muscularity and energy into a tool of violence. If his words couldn’t reach Luce, then Adam would fall back on the neanderthalic method. 

“They’re like me! They’re killers! They won’t fucking stop just because you beg or Nell’s innocent,” Adam hissed through clenched teeth, knuckles raining down in blow after blow toward Luce. “You give up and you’ll both die! Because you’re weak! Where’s that fucking fire?” Adam swung a roundhouse kick Luce’s way. “Step up or die in the dirt cunt! Killers don’t care if you’re mourning!” 

Words. His fucking words. Luce could handle the onslaught of kicks and punches, she let them fall without blocking them, her body absorbing the blows. His fists against her arms, his feet against her legs, his elbows knocking against her stomach. Each impact sent a firework of pain through her body but she let them come. She could deal with the pain. She could handle the pain. But his words, his goddamn words. Luce closed her eyes as she curled up in on herself, her arms coming up to protect her head, as if that would stop the words he kept hurling at her. “I know! I know they’d kill us in a heartbeat! I know they would!” She yelled, though the words were more of a sob. They’d killed Bea without a second thought, they’d do the same to her, the same to Nell.

But when he asked about her fire, her fucking fire, Luce’s eyes flicked open. He wanted to see fire? He wondered where the flames were, where the spark was? While part of her had died the moment she’d found out about Bea, another part of her had been unlocked. Flames fueled by hatred and sorrow and loss. He wanted to see fire? Dodging out of the way of his roundhouse kick, Luce stepped back, extending her gloved hands. “You want to see my fire?!” With that, she let out a roar of anger and grief. Blue flames exploded from her hands, shooting around the two of them. The flames formed a giant circle around them, their blue tongues reaching higher and higher as Luce stared at Adam with pain filled eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes to save my family! Whatever it takes!”

Adam flinched as the witchfire roared around them, a wall of phlogiston sapphire that made the Hunter’s vision ripple in a heat haze, as very air had become a boiling liquid. Blue fire was at least two thousand three hundred degrees if not more. The white sweat-stained fabric of Adam’s sleeveless gym shirt curled at the edges, fraying as small black-ridged holes appeared. Wave after wave of dry heat washed over Adam, a searing pain mountain even as his nostrils filled with the faintly sulfurous scent of his own singing hair. 

Adam lowered his hands to his own knees, the deep breathing of physical exertion made labored by the flame burning away the oxygen inside the ring. His brown eyes met Luce’s, bruised features painfully turning into an expression distinct from the contemptuous smirks and leers he’d been assuming. Adam walked to Lucinda across the blackened grass, gait a little stiff as the flaring heat accentuated the previous blow she’d landed on his leg muscle. 

If Lucinda permitted it, Adam attempted to catch her  in an embrace of sweaty bruised arms. “I know you will.” 

The air between them shimmered with heat as the fires roared around them. Luce could feel the energy rushing out of her body, her strength being consumed by the hungry flames around them. But, she couldn’t let go of the fire. She couldn’t release them. The sorrow she carried, the pain, the emotions were reflected in every flickering strand of light that surrounded the two of them. As Adam approached her, she watched his movements with a wary, tear filled eye. She wouldn’t burn him, wouldn’t do that to someone. But, if he said another foul thing against her and her family, if he doubted her abilities…

When his arms reached out for her, it wasn’t a headlock or a grapple or any other move she’d been bracing for. Instead, Adam pulled her into a hug.

The second his arms closed around her, Luce felt all the sadness and grief return to the surface, unfettered by the anger and rage and guilt. The fires died, leaving nothing but a circle of charred earth around them and smoke curls. Wrapping her arms around Adam, Luce buried her head into his shoulder and sobbed.

[fanficsbykay]

Girl Meets Senior Year | Ch. 2

Summary: Three years have passed since Lucas and Riley fought on the first day of High School. The two never spoke again until one fateful night, the night Lucas saved Riley. Now he must save her from herself and not fall for her in the process. Rucas AU Centric. Joshaya x Smarkle x ZayxOC

Word Count: 1,968

Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse

[1]

Chapter 2 Girl Meets Shattered

3 Years Later

"I believe that two people are connected at the heart, and it doesn't matter what you do, or who you are or where you live; there are no boundaries or barriers if two people are destined to be together" - Julia Roberts

Riley sat at the counter of her Mother's café and scribbled feverously in her notebook.

"Cake?"

Riley looked up and saw Zay standing in front of her with a slice of chocolate cake. Zay grinned and placed the small dish in front of her notebook. She smiled softly and stuck her finger in the chocolate mousse. Riley brought her finger to her lips and moaned at the taste of the sugar.

"Zay you are awesome! I am glad my Mom gave you this job" Riley commented as Zay passed her a small silver fork.

Zay had scored a job at Topanga's a year ago as a Waiter and it has helped him keep everything on track. Riley wasn't surprised that Zay was good at his job, he loves the people and they love him. Between serving the guest and snacking, he made everyone feel important. He was no longer Robin Lunch; he was Zay Best Waiter Ever.

"Well it does help that you are one of my best friends," Zay said as he took a bite of her cake.

"Zay!" Riley scolded with a laugh.

"Quality assurance" Zay mumbled with his mouth full.

"And?" Riley said as he took another bite.

"It's ok" He joked and Riley let out a laugh.

"Zay Man!" Riley turned around to see Maya walking with a messenger bag.

"No love for me Peaches," Riley said, taking a bite of her cake.

"Well that depends on you Honey, did you finish the next chapter?" Maya asked.

Riley smiled triumphantly and pulled out her iPad and notebook. Maya grinned and snatched the two out of her hands.

"Riles! You've been holding out on me! Now I can draw Violet and Peaches, I've been lacking some great art time" Maya cooed and flipped through the pages.

"I still can't believe you two are creating a graphic novel," Zay said as he took the last bite of cake and grabbed the plate.

Riley tilted her head in disbelief of Zay eating her snack and let out a chuckle. Yet he was right who knew that Riley Matthews could write so well. It was well known Maya had amazing artistic abilities, but one day Farkle and Maya read a short story that Riley wrote. They couldn't believe that Riley had a way to convey her emotions onto paper.

So junior year Riley and Maya began writing a series called Violet and Peaches. The series was about two best friends that fought crimes and had the ability to turn into cats. It was a silly idea, but anything could be possible in their world.

Their little crew actually would have weekly meet-ups and read the adventures and discuss what they believe should happen next. Maya would sketch the new ideas and Riley would write it all down. Farkle has even suggested that they submit it to publishing companies to get offers. However, Riley declines every time while Maya boasts about being the next great graphic designer.

"Believe it, Zay!" Maya said and stopped at a page.

"Riles this is it, this is Violet and Peaches next adventure, I love it," Maya said and a bright smile graced her face,

"Thanks," Riley said and shrugged.

"No drawing Maya we have to head to the Homecoming Game!" Zay said as Maya pulled out her sketchbook.

"Do we have to?" Maya whined and frowned.

"Of course Riley here is our homecoming queen nominee," Zay said and threw his apron onto the countertop.

"Zay you have to lock up," Topanga said as she came from behind.

"But Mrs. M, the game, Riley, Cheerleaders!" Zay rambled and widened his eyes.

"Mom, I got it," Riley said and walked behind the counter.

"Riley aren't you supposed to be at the game to walk across and everything?" Topanga asked.

"I'll be a few minutes late it's fine, really besides, we are closing in twenty minutes, guys go have fun, it gives me private Riley writing time," Riley said and placed her hands under her chin.

"Riles, you sure?" Maya asked as she stood from her seat.

"Totally fine Peaches!" Riley said and grinned.

"Zay!"

Riley's grin faltered from her face when she heard the familiar voice. A voice that she didn't hear often, yet it still sent waves throughout her body. She looked down at the grain of the counter before she felt his presence nearby. He didn't acknowledge her or greet her, but he did glance at her.

"Lucas dude what are you doing here?" Zay asked as Maya glanced between Riley and Lucas.

"Dude you said we were meeting up at four-thirty, it's almost five" Lucas laughed as Zay patted his arm.

"Sorry late shift today, but come on we are all going to the game now," Zay said as Maya grabbed Riley's hand.

"Coming Maya?" Lucas asked as he turned to the Blonde.

"Yeah, Huckleberry" Maya retorted before giving Riley a squeeze.

The three began walking towards the door as Topanga followed slowly behind them. In a silent walk towards the subway, the three of them did not say anything. It could have been the awkward tension or the fact that Riley's mother was a few feet behind them.

"What the Princess isn't joining?" Lucas asked and rolled his eyes.

"Lucas!" Maya scolded and pinched his arm.

Maya didn't want Lucas bashing Riley especially in front of her own mother. Lucas wasn't surprised at Maya's actions; however, he was surprised at her using his name. He didn't make it easy for his friends to spend time with him whenever Riley tagged along.

Somehow he would end up canceling or make Riley feel uncomfortable that she would leave. It was like a switch came on inside of him that made him have to hurt her feelings. Maya had every right to be protective, but he just could not help himself.

"Sorry, Maya I guess I forget you have to protect the Princess" Lucas said and let out a chuckle.

Maya rolled her eyes and shoved him into Zay which made them fall on the ground. Topanga came over and Maya pulled her away from the two boys. Zay jostled Lucas off of him and stood up.

"Why Lucas? Why do you have to be an ass about Riley?" Zay demanded.

"She makes it easy Zay," Lucas said and stood up from the ground. He wiped his jeans and shook his head in anger. Lucas clenched his jaw and made fists before releasing them.

"Cut it out, at least for tonight! It is our last homecoming game and I want to enjoy it with all my best friends" Zay begged and clasped his hands together.

"Whatever let's just catch up to Maya so we can't sit with Smackle and Farkle," Lucas said as he pointed to the subway.

"Crap I left my wallet back at Topanga's, I think Riles is still there" Zay commented and smacked his pants.

"Look I got it don't worry, I won't say anything mean to the Princess," Lucas said and rolled his eyes.

Zay bit back his words and just held up his hands to allow Lucas to go to the café. At least in his mind, the two had to say something to one another. Lucas handed Zay his MetroCard before walking back to Topanga's. He had no idea what he was going to say to Riley and he hoped he didn't have to. He walked down a flight of stairs to see the door closed and the lights were off inside of Topanga's.

Lucas was surprised to see the lights were all off at Topanga's and placed his hands on the glass. He peered into the darkness to see nothing but an empty café. He pulled the door to see that it was unlocked and felt uneasy about what was going on. Despite not speaking to Riley, he knew she wasn't irresponsible to leave the place unlocked.

"Um hello?" Lucas called out as he walked into the dark café. The bell rang over his head and he reached to his left to find the light switch when he saw something from the corner of his eye. Lucas fell back into the glass door with a heavy shove shattering the glass. He groaned and noticed that the person was dressed in all black and was running up the stairs.

Adrenaline began to build up in him and he scrambled onto his feet. He scurried inside and began looking for Riley.

"Ri- Ril - Riley?!" His voice shook with vulnerability and he was surprised he even got her name out. Chairs were strewn haphazardly on the floor and the café counter was bare except for a rag. Lucas heard a whimper and knew where she was. He slid to his knees and saw Riley lying face down behind the bar. Her hair was spread out around her and her skirt hiked up.

"Riley?" Lucas cried and picked her head up as she cried again.

"Lucas?" She questioned as tried sitting up.

"Riley, please stay still I have to call the cops" Lucas begged as he searched for his phone in his pocket. His fingers trembled as he dialed the police and his voice cracked. After reading off the numbers to the police and hanging up he looked down at Riley who was curled in a fetal position.

He studied her as he noticed her underwear further away from the two and he froze. That was a question he didn't want to be answered right now. All that he knew was that she needed him and the three years of anger melted away. She pulled down her skirt and tried sitting up which made Lucas move away.

"No Lucas please, don't leave me" She cried and held him tightly.

"Please I know you don't like me, but don't leave me alone, please Lucas, please"

He held her tightly as she broke down within his arms.

"Don't worry Riley I got you, no one will hurt, no one" He whispered.

He held her for about five minutes before the cops arrived. Before he knew it Riley was on a stretcher and cops were asking him about twenty questions at once. Yet it didn't matter because he just stared at Riley as she was strapped in and crying.

"Son?" The Officer asked.

"I … I … didn't see him sir, but I know he was heavier and taller than I" Lucas croaked.

The Officer noticed Lucas's gaze and patted him on the back. He comprehended that Lucas was not going to be helpful until he knew that Riley was going to be alright.

"Lucas?" Riley cried and Lucas walked over. She grabbed his hand and began to cry as the paramedic placed an IV in her arm.

"I'm right here Riley," Lucas said as she squeezed his hand.

"Young man, only family can ride with her, you can meet us at Mount Sinai," The Paramedic said as Riley gripped his hand tighter.

"Please" Lucas begged as the stretcher moved away from him and Riley thrashed crying for Lucas.

Lucas stood dumbfounded and watched Riley begged for him. Thumps filled his ears and he realized his own heart was racing for her. He was scared for her and he did not know what to do.

"Son?" The Officer said and Lucas turned to him. The Officer handed Lucas's what he could only figure was Riley's bag and some papers.

"Go to her," The Officer said as Lucas without a second thought ran out of Topanga's.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 38

Chapter Summary -   Benedict and Sophie arrive for dinner, which is a nice affair. When Sophie gets Danielle alone, the pair speak about how it is to be the other half of the "Internet's Boyfriends."

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“I see you fitted in some stress relief.” Benedict joked as he walked into the house, giving Tom a hug as he did.

“Do you two ever stop?” Sophie shook her head and laughed, having already entered and given Tom a similar hello. “I love this table.” She commented, looking at the table that Danielle had inside the front door.

“Sophie, no stealing Elle’s things,” Ben warned, earning a confused look from Tom. “She stole my mother’s bowl recently.”

“Your father gave it to me,” Sophie argued.

“Without telling mum.” Ben countered.

“I didn’t know that.” She pointed out.

“He’s hated the fucking thing for years, so first chance he had to get rid of it, and it ends up in our place.” Tom chuckled at his friend’s overdramatic reaction to a bowl. “So, where’s Danielle?”

“Kitchen,” Tom led the way.

“Ooh, what books does she have?” Sophie asked, glancing into Danielle’s living room on the way.

“Elle, frisk Sophie on the way out,” Ben called out in warning. “She plans on robbing half your home.”

“It’s actually so nicely done,” Sophie added, heading to the kitchen, looking around as she did.

“Actually, it appears she’s just robbing the whole fucking thing.” Sophie elbowed him slightly.

When there was no response, Tom frowned. “Elle?” he called going for the kitchen door. A sniffing noise caught their attention. “Mac, get away from the door.” There was another sniff and a grumbling noise before Tom opened it.

“Tom, he got in when I was throwing out bread crusts for the birds, but I am prepping food so I can’t touch him.” Elle apologised.

“Got it, come on, big man.” He grabbed a baked pig ear and caught the dog’s attention, allowing for Ben to open the door.

“He’s huge,” Ben commented. As soon as Mac Tíre realised there was someone new to sniff, the ear was forgotten about and he trotted over to the guests. “Soph, remember the pup I told you about.”

“You said he was a scrawny rat.”

“Well, he is getting a bit fatter these days, Diana is overfeeding him.”

“She is not, he’s supposed to be fatter than you have him.” Tom defended.

“I’m sorry, did your father have a vet practice?”

“My father was in charge of the company that sold your father pharmaceuticals.”

“Actually they manufactured them, not sold them, that is done by the parent company.” Danielle corrected, sticking out her tongue at him.

“So, yes, this is apparently my girlfriend, acting like a four-year-old.” Tom indicated to Danielle as he spoke to Sophie.

“He’s just annoyed I caught him on a technicality, I’m Danielle.” Danielle dismissed as she walked over to Sophie, cleaning her hand to shake hers. Sophie, however, walked forward and hugged her. “Oh, okay. I thought English were not supposed to be overly affectionate at the beginning.”

“I am half Scottish.” Sophie smiled.

“Ah, that explains it.” Danielle grinned back. “So, what’s this bout robbing my house?” she looked to Ben, who came to hug her as well.

“Sophie is an undiagnosed kleptomaniac apparently, and your house and everything in it is next.”

“Benedict!” Sophie looked at him appalled. “I just said I like your hall table and wondered what books you had on your shelves.” Sophie put her hands up as though she was being ordered to by authorities.

Danielle just laughed. “Thank you, it was my parents, I effectively took everything from the house with me here, so anything nice, it was probably theirs and as for the books, literally, you could find anything in there, there is no rhyme or reason to it, ask Tom, it annoys him.”

“It does not.” Tom dismissed, smiling like a fool at how immediately Elle had taken to Sophie.

“You glare at it, do not deny it, I can see it in your face.”

“I like your book organisational skills as much as you like my grey shoes.” He retorted.

“Ouch!” Danielle laughed in slight disbelief, “That is cold.”

“Those shoes are fucking tragic,” Benedict interjected, though his face was a jestful one. “I mean really, Tom.”

“Funny, he said you have two pairs.” Danielle joked.

“Ooh.” Tom pointed at Benedict as he laughed at his disbelieving look at the young woman. “That turned quickly.”

“Come for dinner and I get abused.” Ben shook his head, scratching Mac Tíre’s ear. “Why do I bother?”

“I think it is something to do with the food.” Elle joked, going back to the food. “Mac, out.”

“He is fine if you want to leave him in, so long as he won’t jump on Sophie.” Ben dismissed.

“Mac isn’t allowed jump on anyone or on the couch.” Tom showed him the ear again, regaining the dog’s attention. “Bed.” Taking the ear gently, Mac trotted to his bed. “Good boy.” He smiled, “Tea?”

“Please.” There was an eagerness to Sophie’s voice that was slightly dramatic.

“Very domestic,” Ben joked.

“Yeah,” Tom smiled as he looked at Danielle, who was busy prepping something for the dinner. “Oh, Elle is making…what is…is that your…”

“Good to see Eton and Cambridge paid off, proper coherent sentences there.” Ben joked.

“You may be laughing, but you have not had Elle’s Roast Lamb and veg.”

“Nice and exotic.” Elle shrugged.

“Does it come with potatoes?�� Ben asked curiously.

“Gratin and roast.”

“I am never leaving.” Ben declared as Tom handed him a cup and thanked him, then watching as he handed one to Elle. “That’s not a cup, that’s a tankard.”

“You know Irish people drink more tea than us.” Tom pointed out.

“With cups that’s size, it’s hardly a fucking surprise.” Ben laughed. “Seriously, why would anyone need a cup that big?”

“Because they want that much tea.” Elle grinned, “Food’s on, so here or the living room?”

“If just to annoy Tom with your disorganised books, we’ll go to the living room, but no promises Sophie won’t rob you.” Ben joked, rushing through the door before his wife contemplated throwing her tea at him.

*

“So, how did the music shoot go?” Ben asked as he bit into another piece of the dinner.

“Fine, all things considered. Though I think I can put my hand on my heart and say it is chaotic and completely off-putting.” Danielle responded.

“The shoot or the person.”

“The shoot, the person I wasn’t overly bothered by, considering I am two and zero on that front, the song, however, as tragic as the ‘singing’ is once again, is not exactly very nice.” She looked to Tom apologetically.

“Yeah, I read about it, ‘The Heeler’, peculiar name,” Sophie added.

“Not really, makes perfect sense, it’s about Tom and myself and I was a paramedic.”

“But it is spelt wrong.” Ben pointed out.

“Wait, H-E-E-L-E-R is it?” Sophie nodded.

“Smart play on words there.” Danielle commended. “It’s clear she didn’t come up with this on her own.”

“How?” Tom asked.

“Does she seem like a professional wrestling fan to you? I mean; did she sit down and watch Summerslam when you two were…whatever you did together?” she asked.

“Summerslam?”

“That’s a no then. Professional wrestling, The Rock, Triple H, Stone Cold Steve Austin, John Cena, all those guys, the WWE, it’s a term they use. Their good guys are called ‘Baby Faces’, or ‘Faces’, and their baddies are given the term a ‘Heel’.” She explained.

“You literally will watch anything on the TV.” Tom shook his head.

Danielle shrugged, “I rather that that Keeping up with Whoever is in Vogue This Week and other reality toilet paper.”

“Definitely.” Sophie agreed, “I feel like I am alone in a sea of gossip fodder when people start waffling on about that.” she turned to her husband, who was eating more gratin, “You are going to regret that later in the week when you are running it off.”

“Don’t care, too good. Tom, how are you not going around another ten kilo’s heavier?”

“Because I don’t get it cooked for me often, Elle’s staying at the hotel and I was over stateside doing the voice work. It’s good, though, right?” Tom smiled knowingly at his friend, Ben nodded.

“I’m just glad you guys like it, I mean, it’s not Michelin star stuff.”

“Good, that stuff is shit, it’s the size of a two-pound coin, costs two hundred and tastes like rubber.” Ben scoffed. “You can’t beat the basics.”

“You can bring the boys to Hollywood.” Elle smiled as she drank some more wine mixed with a soft drink.

“Private school boys, if that counts.” Sophie chuckled.

“Says Ms Oxford.” Ben retorted.

“God, posh people,” Elle sniggered, causing Tom to chuckle and Sophie and Ben to stop bickering.

*

“So, you said this was your parents?” Sophie was getting ready to go upstairs after a pleasurable evening of talking.

“Yeah, my mum got it in some weird boutique place in the bog arse of nowhere back home.”

“Didn’t she mind you bringing it over here with you?”

“No, she and dad, they’re…gone.”

Sophie’s face filled with horror. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…what…?”

“It’s fine, I mean it’s sort of commonplace, isn’t it?” Elle shrugged with a sad smile. “She had cancer, and dad just wasn’t the same after, his health went downhill fast, he was so stressed before and it was worse after for him, he was a workaholic so it was always her that made sure he ate and looked after himself, so with her gone and me in college…”

“You moved over after…”

“Yeah, didn’t want to stay there, dad was saying how there were more opportunities over here, and when I dropped out because I decided I rather do something different, I thought it was the better option to come here.”

“Why Suffolk though?”

“I’m not a city person, I prefer the quiet of the countryside, Suffolk was by chance, I found an opening here, decided it was the place for me, used the money from the sale of my parents place and my dad’s practise to get a nice house, which,” she looked around her. “I think I did pretty well with, and it just so happened that my neighbour was a nice woman who I spoke to the day I was viewing it and she convinced me to buy, saying it was a nice area, quiet and someday a great place to have my family and when I moved in, her kids came to help me, one of whom happened to be Tom.”

“That must have been a shock.” Sophie chuckled.

“It was, I mean, I like comic book movies, so I knew of Loki, but when Tom was in front of me, I hadn’t realised who he was, and was just looking at him with that funny suspicious look of ‘I know you from somewhere’.” Elle blushed as Sophie laughed.

“Oh God, really?”

“How he did not walk out of the place and have his mum file a restraining order, I don’t know.” She shook her head in shame.

“Ha-ha, sorry, but that’s hilarious, I love it.” Sophie laughed.

“How about you, Ben said you met on set years ago?”

“Yes, back when he was a bit of a nobody in the game too, a few bits here and there, but we had other people then, and by the time we started something, he was huge.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how you do it, the public stuff, and all they write about you and Christopher, and probably now this little bubble too.”

“You can’t let it get to you. Sometimes it’s jealousy, sometimes spite, others just want to bitch about anyone and others…I don’t know what their problem is, but they can just get over themselves, I love Ben, he loves me and Kit, and we live pretty normally off the red carpet, and as long as it stays like that, we are happy.”

“But you are accomplished too, you’re in his game, I am just a set person, I can only imagine what they will say if it gets out.”

“‘When’ not ‘if’,” Sophie corrected. “You will get some heat, after all, Tom and Ben are the ‘Internet’s Boyfriends’ but most will love that you are not a stick-thin, Hollywood Barbie, you are exactly what they all dream would happen, as cliché as it is, you are ‘The Girl Next Door’ literally.”

“God, that is fucking cliché.” Elle laughed.

“And it gives them a little hope too, that is something.”

“It is also going to add some heat.”

“Yes, I read what the papers wrote after the dinner with him and his mum.”

“You read a lot of gossip stuff?”

“Normally no, but after meeting Ms Swift, I wanted to see what they were saying about poor Tom and I saw the whole thing with you and him on a few papers.”

“Yeah, some were not very nice.” Elle played with her fingers.

“Tabloids never are, but the other’s will be the majority opinion, ‘wholesome’ is not a word used much in entertainment.”

“It sounds a lot like the word fat.”

“By some standards, yes, you are, you are supposed to be a size four to six, eat once every four days and snort more cocaine than you can handle to stave hunger pains, and you are not that, so they will hate you for it, because Tom clearly prefers you and that is not what their magazines tell them is sexy.”

“Thank you.” Elle gave a small smile. “I really wanted to talk to someone about this, but Tom doesn’t get it from this point of view, I mean, he understands, but doesn’t understand, if that makes sense?”

“He comprehends it, but does not feel it himself, so doesn’t have first-hand experience of it.” Sophie nodded. “I know that feeling.” There was a small hint of bitterness in her tone. “I thought for ages that no one could understand what it was like, especially when it was revealed we were engaged, even more so after it was announced I was pregnant.”

“Who helped you?”

“Amanda, Martin’s other half, she literally just came up to me one day, hugged me, threw the men out of the room and demanded I tell her exactly how I was feeling, and pushed and pushed until finally, I caved.”

“You never acted like it affected you.”

“In public, God no, but behind closed doors, I was terrified, and Ben had no idea how to help, Amanda saved us, I was so scared, I wanted to run and hide and never go in front of a camera again.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, you guys are amazing, and your son is the most gorgeous little cutie going.”

“When he wants to be, he can be temperamental.” Sophie smiled fondly.

“Hey, he’s male, it’s to be expected.” Elle dismissed, earning a loud laugh from Sophie.

[irageneveart]

there are so many things a 16 years old person should be doing beside throwing hate, BUT HERE YOU ARE BEING A BRAT

@bfmyers I really can't take this anymore, are you really that full of hypocrisy to scream TOXIC left and right while you yourself use your free time to only spread hate? I don’t usually do this and I try to stay away from useless discourse but you're just kicking on my nerves way too much

under the cut cause boy I have a lot to say. (really, it’s long. I needed to point out everything)

I'm going to kindly tell you to fuck off artists' backs.

you have 0 fucking knowledge of what you're talking about yet you're making callouts and worse, people agree! the same people who supported the artists before by reblogging and liking their art are now shitting on them and "ihh no more reblogs from them" only because you write a lengthy shit in which not only that you threaten a human being, you don't even know how to argue. a link to a picture and screaming "toxic" ISN'T A GODDAMN ARGUMENT

people of this community, PLEASE use your fucking brains and don't bow your head to what every nameless kid has to say. you don't have to believe me either, just use your fucking brain and heart and do the decision making yourself

Now, you did a callout post on @dbd-omija pointing out how toxic they are!!! omg gasp animal death? abuse?? HOW IS THAT pOsSIbLe

where have you been until now because this is a horror community:

in the TCM universe inbreeding is mentioned multiple times

in the Halloween movies Michael kills two dogs and eats one of them

omija clearly stated they went with the 1978-2018 timeline BUT NO YOU KEPT SCREAMING BECAUSE HOW DARE THEY SAY SOMETHING AGAINST YOU

on that matter: in the halloween movies Michael's cult makes him rape his niece, in another movie Laurie, before jumping to what it seemed her death, kisses Michael's mask lips. GASP, when will you sue the directors?

after he escaped, Max literally slaughtered every living creature in that farm. put the DBD devs on your "I need to sue them cause I have something to say against this horror game!!!" list

If there’s something I can agree with you on, it’s about tags. Yes, these are triggers, yes tagging is important, but let’s not forget that being in this community IS about being surrounded by triggers. out of courtesy sure, we should tag our stuff accordingly, but to go all out to say “omija, if you’re reading this, i’m going to pee in your mouth.” HOW. IS. THIS. ACCEPTED?! HOW

HOW THE FUCK PEOPLE WHO REBLOGGED THAT CALLOUT THOUGHT YES THIS IS GOOD?!!?!

now you said that Omija's making all of these seem cute and that’s the real problem. this is where you are sooo wrong and let me explain:

a round head doesn't instantly make everything cute. there are many many details that the human eye perceives as cute, things that artists go to when they want their art to be seen as cute. from the color chosen to the way their eyes and mouths are drawn, to the very line work they’re using. yes, shapes count too, but this is not the case and we should get out of our tiny box and see the big picture. Their comics are not meant to be cute, actually much respect to them for being brave enough to approach well known subjects that are not explored. But that’s it. If YOU see it as cute then it’s your problem really. Art and fiction is prone to interpretation

If anything, how much cute stuff we have in the community should be the anomaly, not that someone draws anxious Bubba

omija's Amanda and Bubba art is problematic! someone asks why, you: because is toxic!!!

really? I actually think that, given their individual personalities, omija portraits the ship’s dynamic really well. Amanda is not dealing well with her feelings and with humans and Bubba has problems understanding things in general. they are two deranged people finding a way to cope and to accept another human presence nearby. "Amanda is picking on a disabled person how can you say it's well!!!!" let me remind you that his entire family is picking on his disabilities and the fact that he loves but also FEARS his family is a big theme in Leatherface's story and personality

Also, another argument of yours was about “the power play” and how that’s problematic. I’m...honestly surprised you even thought of this argument because the entire slasher fandom, the movies, everything slasher related IS BASED ON POWER PLAY. Have you read what they wrote for Laurie/Michael to say the ship is based on power play and it’s wrong? No, me neither, cause I don’t care, but you seem to care enough to vomit about it. Go read some things and tell me how problematic the writing is, you need to call out writers too after all

Btw, surprise! I don't ship neither of the mentioned ships, but I can use my brain enough to see what omija does is actually well made and well thought, sick, weird in some instances, but well thought. kudos to you artist. I can also see those who ship Laurie and Michael are still nice people

But just like you and many others I have my own morals (do you now? Exposing yourself like that to NSFW content while so many people are scared for their life because of people like you? hmmmm) and I can’t really stand explicit pedophilia. I’ve read so many books or seen so many movies where it was mentioned, it’s a trigger factor, it’s taboo, therefore is normal to be used in darker works. It all depends on the circumstances and the way it is presented, cause it’s a piece of fiction. Nobody attacked George R. R. Martin for the controversial things he had written in his books right? I wonder why

Because, another surprise, fiction is different than reality and only this argument alone should be enough, but some monkey brains out there will come to scream at me how fiction affects reality. Someone who writes a murder mystery isn’t actually killing people when they put pen to paper. People who play shooter games do not wish to shoot people in real life. Someone who writes about rape will not welcome the rapist in their arms nor do they wish to rape someone. So on, it’s simple, again, we just need to use our brains.

If you have bullying-related or a family related or any thing related trauma and you see a Michael/Laurie fic or Quentin/Freddy or whatever other ships or subjects you have seen around, and decide to click on it, and then you have a negative reaction, that fiction is not harming you. Your unresolved trauma is harming you. Your decision to read something when you know it triggers you is harming you. The past actions of yourself and those who inflicted harm upon you are harming you. All of those things – your trauma, your real-life bullies, your actions – are real, and have the ability to harm you. (the italic bits are from @dracfics who said it better than I ever could put in words. Thank you)

next on your "who am I going to shit on today" is @renlvbon

not gonna lie, for the omija callout I read everything searching to see whenever you are right or not. I don’t personally know either of the artists but I could read enough to see you’re just a self entitled person with something to say regarding everything. for ren's callout I simply skipped after I saw your argument.

you're not doing gods' work by opening people's' eyes that they can or should portray the characters the way they are, disabled and gross. no, you're just picking on someone's art style

Can we stop this toxic nonsense???

don't get me wrong, I agree that we shouldn't make them supermodels and we shouldn't erase what they are, fucking ugly and gross killers, but saying people who don't draw them a certain way are cowards or calling them out or whatever else shit is TOXIC and ANNOYING. We all change them more or less, we have to because none of us are the original creators! We’re just thirsty people making them to be what we want and what we imagine because they’re fucking fiction

I’ve seen people agreeing with you saying the artist should consider real people with disabilities or on the heavier side (“like me” they pointed out). I’m so sorry if this comes out as rude but if you search or need validation in a horror community that’s not a good thing at all! Body positivity and a healthy approach to disabilities should. not. be. searched. in. a. horror. community or any community on tumblr for that matter. You want some positivity on that? In a real case scenario with them we all would die, no matter how you look like

Going back to the artists, some people don't have experience/ are insecure/ are uncomfortable drawing body hair or fat bodies or whatever. That doesn’t make them fatphobic or whatever shit I saw you writing in your tags.

Drawing a black character less than the color YOU think is good? Have you ever tried to color skin? There are so many ways to do it, there are so so many colors you combine and you play around with + lighting and shading that alters everything. and yeah maybe some people pick a different color, a lighter one, or a more yellow one than they should for asiatic people, or whatever. but these tones are NOT easy to get well (you can always put a brown color down and to call it a day, but maybe people won’t want that. They don’t want to be disrespectful, exactly cause there are predators like you that don’t know how to help, only how to fucking scream). Or maybe they simply don’t know how. Every artist has their own range of comfort zone, be it about subject - composition - colors - etc. I don’t do well with neon colors for example, it happens. Hell even the screen you’re using alters the colors

How about giving actual tips, support and explanations instead of rude call outs? And don’t come at me with the “color picker” shit cause color picker from a real life photo is hell and if you don’t know some color theory your art is going to look dull and lifeless regardless

The only time I can agree that whitewashing is wrong is when white-supremacy, nazi and other ugly shits like these are coming into the topic. But it’s not the case here

some young artists don't have the skill to draw certain body shapes, or body hair, or even a non-anime face. some others think putting a scar on the character’s face make them 'uglier' and ‘scarier’ and for them that's enough AND THAT'S ALRIGHT

drawing something that's supposed to be ugly but still having anatomy and proportions and a functionable mouth or eyes placement or whatever ISN'T EASY. ofc, you can go all out if that's what you want, but personally I want things to still be working because at the end of the day every single one of them is human. I'm not drawing dark fantasy in this fandom, I'm drawing slashers

NO ONE IS DRAWING FOR YOU. NO ONE IS USING THEIR SKILL TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD. art and writing, especially when is made in the free time of the creator, is made FOR THEMSELVES. If there are people enjoying it? Yay, that’s a win, but no one expects everybody on this planet to like what they’re doing. We’re getting back to that golden rule, DON’T LIKE: MOVE THE FUCK ON/ BLOCK AND LIVE YOUR LIFE. EASY. no one uses these unnecessary callouts for anything, if you have something to say do so kindly, if you can’t, just vent to your friends

So now let’s wrap it up cause IDK how many of you even make it through this point

can we fucking stop making young artists and writers cowards for drawing or writing how they can and however they fucking want? Please and thank you

this shit going on with "the best artist/writer for x y z character" or "conventionally drawing ugly Bubba uwu" will just destroy the confidence of whoever wants to keep drawing or writing or joining the fandom. There’s no competition who draws Bubba the ugliest nor who writes Michael the best. if you can do things a certain way, do it, and let the rest draw and write whatever they can WITHOUT FEARING THEY'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

now I'm waiting for your very "well" argumented reply but I hope you'll understand that what you're doing is TOXIC and you should stop or at least change your way to address things. You’re talking to other human beings, not a void when you can throw any random thought you have in the morning. I don't care about you to be honest, but there are so many people out there following your words mindlessly and the creators are suffering and it's not fair.

don't forget to tell me to go kill myself. have a nice day

[pandabearisaunicorn]

You Are My Weakness (SPN Fanfic)

You Are My Weakness Chapter 9 Demons

Previous Chapters: Intro Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 

Warnings: Mention of violence, hurt and angst Word Count:  2198

…Theresa’s P.O.V…

 Me and Louise was out on our first hunt together and alone. The boys weren’t happy when Louise told her idea and didn’t get happier when I actually tagged along. Sam was worrying his ass off and called me every 20 minutes. Sure, his actions were cute and all but I sure don’t have time to answer his every damn call. Louise and Dean on the other hand, he had called her once and it wasn’t pretty. I have never seen Louise so mad at anything human before, it sure was a sight to see. I guess he was really mad at her for even going after a demon by herself, yet alone with me, another girl and not him. I did understand his concern but Louise is a good damn hunter, she will make this just fine, we will make this just fine.

“You want to talk about it?” I asked and she glanced over at me. My hands still tight around the steering wheel. “No, he’s a total sweetheart every other hour of the day except when I could be in danger, then he can be a total pain in the ass” She said, I could almost feel her eyes rolling. “He cares about you Lou, I guess he just has a weird way of showing it” I said almost with a laugh. “You can say that” She said and in that moment I thought maybe she would just confess whatever was happening between the two of them but no.

 We sat in silence for a while, not that awkward silence that gets when no one knows what to say or when you dislike someone. No, that comfortable silence you get when you really like the person you spend time with. I like that kind of friendship, I like Louise. She’s such a good friend, a friend that’ll always be by your side, I feel like she’s one of those.

 Soon we were nearing the small town Boulder, Colorado. It has been so many killings in a short amount of time. Brutal killings and sulfur was found on almost every murder sight. It couldn’t be anything other than demons, it just couldn’t. Maybe it was a bad idea for me and Louise to take a demon or more by ourselves but we at least had to try. I mean the boys needed to fight a wendigo in a town in Alaska, I wasn’t sure which town they were in and that sure scared me. Hunting wendigo wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t easy. They could just as easily die as me and Louise. Realizing that I got scared, damn my Sam was in real trouble. I pulled up by the sheriff station, our badges in hand as we walked inside. Louise and I were wearing black suits with white dress shirts. Our hair pulled back by sunglasses as the sun was beaming down. Confused eyes met our bodies as we moved towards the front desk, a young boy maybe in his early 20’s looked up at us. A flirty smile evident on his lips as Louise leaned onto the counter. “We’re here because of all these unsolved murders” Louise said and showed him her FBI badge, I did the same. “Oh, yeah uh what to you want to know?” The boy said and sounding nervous as he spoke. “I want every document about these killings, every single one” She said, saying the last three words slowly.

 And like that, the boy were gone and his scent was still evident. Louise looked up at me, a proud smile and a raise of her eyebrows. I just smiled and laughed at her. Soon the boy was back, a huge pile of files in his arms. He dumped them on the desk and Louise handed me half of them.

 “Thank you so much dear” I said before we walked out the station and I could feel the boys’ eyes staring into our backs.

 We were now back in our car, Louise was now driving as I looked through the files. It was almost ridiculous how similar all these killings were, every man or woman was killed exactly the same way and by the same knife. How stupid could the police be? I mean almost anyone could solve these.

 “It’s almost funny how similar these killings are, it’s like the demon wants us to find him” I said and a shaky breath left Louise’s lips. “That’s almost humoristic, I mean I do have a bad past with demons” She said and I looked over at her, her face looking sad yet tense. Her grip on the steering wheel tightening. “That’s how your parents died wasn’t it?” I said with sympathy in my voice. “Yeah, Sam and Dean saved me. I don’t know what I would if they didn’t” She said, a tear rolling down her cheek and I could tell that this had been tearing on her soul. “Yeah, those two are truly knights in shining armor” I said and continued to read.

 The car feel silence as Louise suddenly stopped the car, it was now dark outside and I light the papers in front of me with a flashlight. I turned it off as I looked outside, a huge family home. The house was painted red with white details around the windows and doors. You could tell that this family once loved to take care of the garden and keep the house looking fresh and clean. Now, it was dead flowers, leaves all over the once green grass. It looked abandoned and I was hit with sadness. I was shook out of me dreams as the car door slammed shut, I followed Louise outside. She stopped walking as she neared me, her arms hanging by her side and her whole body slumped. I had never seen her like this. She started walking again, walking up the stairs of the house like she had done it a million times. I followed her inside, walking past the mailbox who was filled with letters and newspapers. My face turned into a frown as she bent down and took a spare key out from the doormat, her eyes scanning it for a bit before opening the door and walking inside. I hesitated before walking with her inside as the smell of rotten flesh hit my nostrils. I had no idea what I was expecting or why Louise knew all of this. It’s like she had done those actions a million times before, like she knew this house by heart. Then it hit me.

 “This is your family home isn’t it? That’s why Dean’s so mad over this” I said, her face turning to look at me. Eyes wet from tears. “Yeah, I want to be the one who kills the demons who possessed and killed my parents” She said, her eyes darkening and I didn’t like this look on her. “I understand that but maybe we should do some more research on this demon” I said with a shaky voice.

 Suddenly the house got extremely cold and windy, the lights flickering. I could feel panic raising inside of me, I was scared. I could tell Louise was too. Her body standing completely still and jumped as a loud bang was heard in the living room. To my surprise she walked into the room, her shoulders tense and to my dislike I had to follow her. My gun securely trapped in my hand. As I turned the corner of the doorframe I saw a tall man, maybe in his 40’s, standing in front of Louise, his black demon eyes looking harshly on her. I loaded the gun to be prepared for anything that could happen.

 “Louise Chapman, nice to finally meet you” His dark and evil voice spoke up as he walked closer to her. “What do you want her?” I spoke up, surprising myself as I opened my mouth. “Oh, you brought a friend, that didn’t really include in my plan but that could be rearranged” He said and that was all I remember.

 After that everything went black and when I woke up, they were gone. She was gone. I stood up in panic and started to look through every room in that god damn house. Fear taking over my body. If she had killed that demon she would still be here with me. She would never leave me here alone. How long has it been since I passed out? And why did everything hurt?

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket and I was quick to pick it up. I was hoping Louise’s number would be listed but no, it was Dean. Fuck. I pressed the answer button and held the phone up to my ear, trying to get my breathing under control as I sat down on the porch outside the house. “Finally one of you picked up, what the hell has happened? Are you okay?” Dean’s worried voice triggered my tears to fall, the tears I had been holding in for so many minutes running around looking for her. “Tess, you hear me?” “She’s gone Dean” I whispered out, tears falling uncontrollably down my cheeks. “Who? Where is she?” I could hear his voice getting more and more worried. “She’s gone, it wasn’t anything I could do, when I woke up she was just gone. I have been looking everywhere Dean” I sobbed into the phone, feeling myself panicking. “What happened Tess, tell me what the hell happened!” Dean’s voice was getting angry and the panic inside of me getting worse. “The demon, he took her”

 …Louise’s P.O.V…

 My body felt heavy as I opened my eyes, feeling like I had been out for hours. I looked around the room, it was filthy. Bloodstained carpet and the walls almost falling apart. I tried to move but I was tied against a chair. I moved my arms and legs in panic as my breathing got heavier. Still not able to move them. I could feel my legs hurting, my head hurting, everything hurt. The last thing I remember is the demon throwing Tess into the wall and she passed out and now I’m here. What has he done to Tess? Is she hurt? Fuck, she must be wondering where the hell I am. I took a big look around the room again, trying to figure out anything. To my loss, there wasn’t even a window. It was just a dark filthy room. Soon the door opened, the lights turning on and there he stood. That filthy demon.

 “What have you done to me?” I whispered out, not being able to speak louder. “You my dear, have really pissed us off” He said as he kneeled down in front of me. “How?” I said, my voice weak and my eyes could barely stay on him. “You see, when your lover Dean Winchester killed two of my men, I sure was mad. I wanted you” He said as he dragged his knife against my cheek, I hissed at the sudden pain. “Why me?” I said, a bit more louder as I started to gain more power in my body. “Oh if you only knew. When we possessed your parents we got a huge insight of who you really were. You were chosen to fight us, to beat us Louise. You were chose, just like Dean was once” He said and I looked at him in disbelief. “Why me? I’m not anything special” I said, thinking that he just had a lame excuse to kill me. “Oh, you’re special. Truly. But you know, you’re not even going to have a chance to be anything special”

  …Dean’s P.O.V…

 I stood up quickly from my chair as I heard the garage port close and Tess’ footsteps in the corridor. Sam and I hurried down to meet her. I barely recognized her as she walked towards us, her face scratched, her back hunched and tearstained cheeks. She looked up at us, her eyes getting glossier as she ran into Sam’s arms. I tried to wrap my head around all of this. I was hoping Louise would walk inside with her, that all of this was just some cruel joke. But she never came, I could be standing there all day waiting for her to walk inside that door but she wouldn’t.

 “I have done everything I could to find her. I have been searching the whole town but she’s gone” Tess sobbed out as she looked up at me. Her blue grey eyes looking deeply into mine. “I know you did” I whispered out, trying not to take my anger out on her. This wasn’t her fault. “I can barely live with myself, what if she’s dead” She whispered out and something inside of me snapped. “SHE ISN’T DEAD, I WILL FIND HER” I screamed out making them both to look at me in fear. “We will find her Dean, I promise” Sam said as he held my head to look at him, my eyes watering as the thought of losing Louise hit me. “We will find her”

[salty-donut-collecter]

Why Not?

Part 9   Masterlist

Prompts: “Do I look like I give a fuck?”, “I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I’m feeling a lot of  it.”, and “Not to dictate your life, but drop your shitty friends.”

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, police, hypnotization, and some anxiousness.

Please tell me if I need to tag anything else. (No matter how silly it may seem.)

A/N: Oof oof oof. I feel like it’s been forever! So, sorry that this took as long as it did. I’ve been pretty busy, but I tried working on this every chance I got. Also, Scoot with kids? What would you guys think? Cause I think it’s adorable! Also, sorry if everything’s super far apart, but I figured if I was having a hard time reading it (because there isn’t a good way of indenting that I know of) most other people would, so... Uhhhmmm, yeah, I think that’s it for commentary though! I hope you guys like it! :D

Tony turned to Stephen, "I don't want to make this decision without you, Stephen." then a sigh, "But they don't have long, so if we're going to make a decision, we have to go, lickity-split." his usually playful tone returned.

Stephen nodded towards the hallway, "Let's talk then. You and me. In the hallway, right now."

This sounded very sexual from literally everyone else's perspective, but nobody really cared anymore. They were always all over each other, no matter how much Stephen wanted to "keep a "suitable" reputation".

As soon as they were gone, however, Y/n looked to the remaining Avengers.

"So, was Mr. Stark right?" she asked, "About who you wanted to adopt?"

The group shared uncomfortable stares. Did they actually want to have seven kids running around while they were working? Would they actually be able to care for everyone?

"We get it if you don't want to adopt us." Scarllet spoke up, "We can make it on our own. We were just hoping--" Her eyebrows furrowed as Malissa shot her a warning glance, "Ha," she nervously chuckled, "Nevermind, it's pointless." she smiled bashfully, shrinking into herself. Everyone noticed the blush spreading across her pale cheeks.

Now everyone felt guilty. Maybe they should. It would be morally right after all... They should. 

It was decided. They're going to adopt them.

Unfortunately, fate had yet to be so kind.

The door burst open and cops entered, guns ready to fire if necessary.

"Put your hands in the air!!" One of them shouted.

"Down on your knees! Now!" Another roared.

Where and why the fuck?! Y/n wondered, Like, where the fuck did they come from? Who called them? An eye roll and a sigh happened as she realized, Fucking foster parents. Must they ruin everything?

Everyone obeyed their instructions, getting down on their knees and putting their hands on top of their head and such.

Well, accept Y/n. (She just doesn't listen, huh?)

Steve went to tell her to get down, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the barrel of a gun was against the back of his head. 

"You have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, it can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have a lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire." The 'leading' police officer exclaimed over all the outside chatter.  

"Excuse me," Y/n spoke up. She too was surprised by the fact that she had yet to be pinned down. Everyone else had been, after all. "but what the fuck are you doing? These guys have done nothing illegal." She was completely calm, which honestly freaked Steve out a little, but he kept quiet.

"Kidnapping you and your foster siblings." The officer answered.

Y/n squinted ay him as if she were looking through him and dissecting his soul. 

"They didn't kidnap us, they met us here. My Chloe is sick and Mr. Stark wanted to help pay for her medical bill because he knows that out foster parents will be unable to." she explained, her voice sounding unusually soft, "In fact, she's still sick." She stepped closer, her legs moving seductively as she lightly bit her lip, 

"So could you please go? I'm sure there are plenty of people who need you guys much more than we do... hm?" she looked him up and down, her voice so soft, Peter's eyelids were starting to feel heavier. 

The police officer slowly nodded, slowly moving the gun from the back of Steve's head, "Of course, ma'am." he nodded, then going into action.

Everyone was gone within a matter of minutes. 

"Okay, first of all, how in the fuck?" Sam spoke up.

"Have you always been able to do that?" Steve asked, growing slightly concerned. 

Y/n chuckled, "Nah, it's both a skill and a power. My eyes change to a more alluring shade of purple that people somehow never notice, then I change my voice so it's softer and goes with the really high pitched frequency that I transmit. All of it together kind of..." she waved her hands, trying to find the right words, "hypnotizes people." She shrugged.

"Speaking of," she looked over to Peter, who was still trying to fight off the hypnotic sound of Y/n voice, "You're free now," she smirked and snapped her fingers.

Rhodey looked between Peter and Y/n, his eyebrows furrowing as his anger grew. "Did you just--?" he pointed to Peter, "Did you just hypnotize him?!" he shouted in question. 

Y/n didn't flinch. Instead, she just sighed.

"Weak minds are easily taken. I didn't let him do anything, relax." she snapped.

"Wait-- what happened?" Peter asked, looking towards Natasha, who just shook her head.

"You're fine Peter, Rhodey's just upset because he doesn't like Y/n's attitude."  she replied, "You're not hurt."

Y/n refrained from rolling her eyes. So these were the Avengers... Well, most of the Avengers.

"So... where's Scott Lang? I haven't met him yet, and I've heard he's good with kids." Y/n asked, scanning the room as she went.

She'd lied though. Y/n and Scott had actually met, but that was so long ago she was sure Scott wouldn't remember her.

"Here!" a middle-aged man called, gladly raising his hand. He honestly hadn't expected anyone to remember his existence.

Y/n smiled, then nodded towards the hallway, "Good. Let's talk."

Taglist (thank you guys for being patient!): @introvertedsin, and @galacticalstarcat 

I hope you guys like it! :D