#GOD IVE BEEN WANTING TO TRY OUT THE CHALK BRUSHES I NEVER USE

[snazzi-strawberri-artz]

The sketch of this was super old but i decided to color it in today!! >:D

[frunbuns]

Slick With Crimson

I got a request to write a fic where Five gets injured and doesn't tell anyone about it, resulting in him passing out in front of all his siblings. This is what came out of it.

Read on Ao3

It’s stupid, really. Just a silly accident. If Five had been faster this would have never happened. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, but the commission could be tricky. And while Five is good, he’s not invincible, despite what some people might think.

Sure it hurt, but he has experienced worse. Compared to that it is honestly just a gash. He could take care of it when they got home. Nothing to worry about, really. No rush. He had lived through the apocalypse after all.

Well actually, it hurt a lot. Gunshot wounds, Five finds, hurts in a different way. It burns. Really burns. Like he’s being split open. His abdomen is on fire. Honestly, it was just his luck that he’d get shot when his shrapnel wound had finally healed. Five had really thought he was done limping around. They really could get no rest.

Five drops his weapon of choice, a gun he’d nabbed off the first guy he’d taken out. It clatters to the concrete floor, echoing throughout the empty room. With a last look around he jumps out of the room to look for his siblings, ignoring the way the jump makes his abdomen flare up in pain.

Luckily for Five he finds Diego, Allison and Klaus in the next room, while Vanya and Luther are in the next. They’re panting slightly, but otherwise they seem okay. Just a little worn out from the fight. Much to his relief.

“Are you okay, Five?” Klaus asks him, gesturing to his blood soaked sweater-west.

Five brushes him off with a gesture of his hand, subtly adjusting his jacket to cover it. “It’s not mine,” he lies effortlessly. 

Vanya gives him a look, but Five pretends he doesn’t see it. He straightens himself up and schools his expression, even as his skin feels clammy and his heart flutters in his chest.

“What do we do now?” asks Allison, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We should probably get out of here before the police show up.”

“So we just leave them?”

“We can’t exactly…”

Five’s heart is pounding in his ribcage. His head is swimming and his vision blurs in the edges. He’s distantly aware of the bloody spot on his sweater-vest expanding, the shirt under warm, and clinging uncomfortably to his skin.

Five would kill for a coffee right about now. Maybe they have some at the Academy. Or have they run out? He can’t quite recall the last time they went grocery shopping. Friday? Or was it Thursday? 

Didn’t he have coffee this morning though? Or was that yesterday?

“—ive?”

What day is it again?

“Five!”

Five blinks, startled. Diego stands in front of him, crouched down to his eye level. On a normal day Five would have been offended. He would have retort or an insult ready on his lips, but today it totally slips his mind. Instead, he dazedly stares at his brother.

“You with us, Five?”

“What?” He blinks. “Yeah.”

Diego frowns, clearly not convinced. But maybe if Five wills him to, Diego won’t ask.

“You sure there, bud? You look a little pale,” Klaus comments.

Five scowls before he’s even had time to think of a reaction. “I’m fine.”

Klaus takes a step back, as if he’ll get physically injured if he stands too close, and throws his hands up, showing off his ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ tattoos. 

“Allright,” Diego says then. “We’re leaving.”

Oh. Already?

“Car is just around the corner.”

They walk out, but it takes a few seconds for Five to register it and he has to sprint up to them to follow. Which he immediately regrets once his visions momentarily fades and swirls. It’s a miracle he doesn’t stumble or fall.

He stays at the back of the group. Partly because he hopes it’ll be harder to notice that he’s hurt, and partly because his body feels weak and shaky and he’s definitely not wheezing. not at all. He’s fine. He can rest a little in the car. It’s a-ok. 

But then it’s farther to the car than he can remember and suddenly he’s not so sure that he’s fine after all. He feels cold and clammy. His thoughts come out muddy and incoherent at best. His breaths come hard and shallow and his body just feels plain wrong. He’s vaguely aware of the blood trickling down his leg.

His siblings are chatting to each other, but Five has no idea what they’re talking about. Frankly, it all sounds muffled and confusing to him. It’s like he can hear that they’re talking, but not the actual words they’re saying. 

That can’t be good.

He hopes the bullet hasn't travelled too far. That wouldn't be good.

And then there’s a crack in the pavement and the world goes dark.

Five’s body hits the pavement with a thud and a quiet groan, startling his siblings.

"Jesus—"

"Five!"

Diego is by his side first, despite previously being at the front of tbe group. He's quick to turn him onto his back, something about this whole situation feeling eerily familiar.

He gently taps the boy's cheeks, calling his name, but Five's face remains lax and unresponsive. Worry gnaws at his insides. And then Luther lifts his shirt up and Diego curses.

Of course Five hadn't told them he was hurt. Why would he? That would be out of character.

Diego tosses the keys to Allison. “Get the car!” he yells.

Allison doesn’t need to be told twice, and she sprints away.

Diego doesn’t waste any time either. As soon as the keys are out of his hands he puts pressure on the wound, putting his entire weight into it, because god damn it he is not losing his brother today. Especially not after so long. And especially not over some measly bullet wound. Diego has seen Five take a lot of shit and he certainly won’t let this kill him.

Vanya kneels down next to him, looking timid and scared as she brushes Five’s bangs from his face. She pats his cheeks and calls out to him. There are unshed tears in her eyes and Diego tries not to think about the fact that they were friends when they were kids. Before Five had run out the door and didn’t come back.

Five’s breaths come out wheezy and shallow. Diego’s hands are drenched in crimson. Warm, slippery crimson. Slick with his Five’s blood. The pavement beneath him is red, soaking into the knees of his pants.

She grabs his hand and squeezes it in hers.

Luther paces behind him, not able to do much but wait.

No. It’s going to be okay. 

As if on cue Allison turns up with the car, parking it right next to them. She jumps out and helps them move Five into the backseat, and before they know it they’re racing back to the Academy, leaving only a small puddle of blood behind.

The car ride goes by in a blur, and with a bit of teamwork they get Five inside and into the infirmary where their mother takes over. It’s a relief, honestly. All they can hope for is that Five makes it through.

The first thing Diego does is march straight to a bathroom. He fumbles with the tap before he manages to turn on the water, after managing to smear blood everywhere. He doesn’t really care about that though. He just wants this blood off him.

Diego has seen a lot of blood in his life. They all have. It’s just something that comes with their lives. But it’s always unpleasant when it’s one of their own. Even if Five can be an annoying bastard.

Diego scrubs and scrubs at his hands until there’s no blood left, and then some more.

~ ~ ~

Five feels strange. Like he has no body. His mind feels muddled and far away. It feels...good. He could be like this forever and he wouldn’t mind. Five can’t remember a time when he felt so light and relaxed.

Wait. That’s not right.

Weren’t they just out? How did he get here?

Five cracks his eyes open, squinting at his surroundings. It takes him a few seconds to realise where he is. He’s back at the Academy. In his room. His walls are still covered in white chalk and Five vaguely recalls Allison wanting to get it painted over.

The problem is; he can’t remember going back. And he certainly can’t remember going to bed. 

Wait. Hadn’t he been shot?

With sluggish hands Five pats himself down. Although his fingers are clumsy and everything feels strange he does feel something under his shirt. Bandages. He must have passed out and been brought to the Academy. He can’t think of any other explanations.

And even if he could he wouldn’t need to because at that moment his siblings decide to come in. He watches them with tired eyes as they filter in, one by one.

“You had us worried there, old man,” Klaus comments with a hint of amusement.

Allison has her arms crossed over her chest, and Five would think she was angry at him if it wasn’t for the smile on her face. In fact, they all look relieved.

“You didn’t think to tell us you were hurt?”

Diego looks at him with a raised brow and an unimpressed expression. Five averts his eyes, shame welling in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Five mumbles.

Vanya steps forward. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asks timidly, and she looks so sad and worried that Five can’t not answer her. No matter how much he doesn’t want to.

“I don’t know,” he mutters, fiddling with the hem of his pyjama shirt. The others look at him expectantly and Five hates how small he suddenly feels under their gazes. He hates when he feels small and vulnerable. It definitely doesn’t help that he looks like a small child. And it probably doesn’t help that he’s definitely still feeling the effects of whatever painkillers he’s been put on either. “I guess…” He swallows. “I guess I just got so used to being alone and I’m not used to having help.”

It’s uncomfortable. Feelings are uncomfortable. He’d always been bad at them, and the apocalypse certainly hadn’t helped at all. Five wants to leave, but he doubts he’ll be able to use his powers in this state and he doesn’t trust his legs to get him very far right now. Besides, if he did try to make a run for it he wouldn’t be able to make it past all his siblings.

Even so, he adds; “And I didn’t want to worry you.”

“You could have died!” Diego cries.

“It was fine.”

“It clearly wasn’t! Do you have no self-preservation at all?”

“That’s bold coming from you—”

Vanya sighs. “Guys, please,” she says. Much to her surprise they both stop fighting immediately. For a second she’s not quite sure what to do. “It’s just...Five we care about you, and we worry about you.”

The others nod in agreement.

“You know, you can tell us if you need help,” she finishes.

Five is quiet. He looks down and fiddles with his hands, not sure how to respond. After a while Five mutters, “Ok.”

Vanya smiles. 

“I’ll take it into consideration.”

Klaus snorts and Vanya sighs exasperatedly, but she can’t help but smile either. The rest of the siblings do the same, a sense of amused annoyance in the air.

“You bastard,” Klaus comments. “Ben says you’re an idiot.”

[elisaphoenix13]

Protecting You Is My Calling

They were only running errands.

Sure, it was getting dark, but Quill wasn't worried and Scott and Cassie trusted him to keep them safe. He always did. Tonight was different though. They had to take the subway back to the tower since Tony wanted to add a couple of upgrades to their car, but no big deal. It was a little crowded in the station, but the three of them stuck together while they waited.

Of course that's when shit hit the fan. Some lunatics walked into the station waving around guns, demanding everyone to empty their pockets and bags, and Quill's first instinct was to push Scott and Cassie behind him. If bullets went flying, he was putting himself between them and his family. His second instinct was to slowly back them away and out of sight behind a wall while peering around the corner to watch the thieves.

"Hey Spaceman...now would be a good time to use your powers." Scott whispers.

"That's a terrible idea. Look where we are." Quill motions around them.

"You're choosing now to be the voice of reason?!" Scott whispers incredulously.

"If they piss me off while I use my powers, I could bring the whole station down! If I don't do that, I might turn on innocent people after I take care of those douchebags."

"Shouldn't there be security guards or something?" Cassie asks and Quill looks around the corner again.

That was a good question, but it was very likely these guys took them out before they came down to the platform. They were already having everyone sit on the ground against the wall and taking bags, purses, wallets...anything of value, and the reality was that only Quill could do something about it. Scott didn't have his suit or his portable shrinking and growing discs, and Quill might not have his guns but he did have his powers. He couldn't go into his god mode, but he had enough control over his powers that he could use them in his hands. No light pillars this time.

A hand at his bicep pulls his attention from the lunatics nearby and Quill looks down at Scott who points behind them at what looked like a power box. It was a power box. Well that's convenient. So Quill motions for Cassie to keep and eye out as he moves over to the box and carefully pries it open when he finds it locked. He bites his lip when the metal screeches just the smallest bit and the two of them freeze, waiting for the thieves to come tearing around the corner, but Cassie waves her hand at them. The criminals probably thought it was usual subway noise. Once they get the box open, Scott positions himself at the switch and Quill moves back over to his previous position, moving Cassie behind him again.

"Wait, it's going to be pitch black if we turn everything off." She whispers.

"Don't worry." Quill assures her before nodding to Scott who throws the switch.

As Cassie predicted, the entire station went pitch black and everyone screamed at the power outage and the thieves started yelling at each other. Quill also had enough control over his powers that he could use his galaxy eyes to see in the dark, and when he stepped out from their corner, collective gasps resounded from the hostages and the thieves aimed their guns at him. They couldn't see him but they could see his glowing eyes.

"What the fuck is that thing?!"

Quill didn't give any of them the chance to shoot though. He briefly slipped behind a pillar so they would lose him and then snuck up behind the closest man and grabbed his gun as he knocked him out. With the gun he stole he pistol whipped the next guy, and Quill continued with his assault as grunts (followed by thuds as bodies hit the ground) filled the station. He took down all six of the perpetrators in a matter of seconds and made sure to keep the guns away from them and the hostages. He didn't need a fear driven innocent to get trigger happy.

Quill turns toward the wall that Cassie and Scott are hiding behind after making sure the situation isn't dangerous anymore. "Hey! You can turn the-"

Gunshots echo through the station and the celestial gasps loudly as bullets not only pierce through his back and come out the front, but some even remained buried in his body. Quill grunts and fights through the pain as he turns to his attacker and finds a seventh man that must have been standing guard and then came when he heard the commotion. Quill sends a single orb of light at the thief to disarm him and quickly follows through to grab him by his throat and slam him into the wall. It took a lot of willpower not to lose his shit and let his god side take over, but the man's head hit the wall and instantly knocked him out so that helped Quill keep control. As soon as he drops the body, he makes sure to look around thoroughly while holding his bleeding wounds that were dripping blood onto the ground with every step he took. The wounds caused by bullets that went all the way through were already healing, but the ones where bullets entered and remained stayed open.

"Sh-shit..." He mumbles as he leans against a wall. "It's safe now." He calls out and the lights turn back on.

The hostages murmer amongst themselves when they finally get to see what, who, saved them, and there were more collective gasps that followed. Either because Quill wasn't the monster they probably expected or that there were seven unconscious people littered across the platform. Maybe both. Sirens reach his ears as Quill wills his galaxy eyes away, and then he hears Scott.

"Quill!" Running footsteps approach him and Scott moves close to examine his boyfriend's wounds. "Cassie, call Stephen."

Everything from then on was a blur for Quill. He may have been a god...he may be immortal...but it was still a lot easier to kill him than it was to kill Ego. He could still die from these bullet wounds and blood loss if they weren't taken out soon so his body could heal itself. Noises were a jumbled mess, he was only vaguely aware of Scott trying to keep pressure on his injuries, but he did remember having to slide down the wall so he could sit on the ground because standing was becoming a chore. The floor seemed to fall out from under him but he just chalked that up to him hallucinating from the blood loss, and then more pain followed from being poked and prodded at. That's what it felt like at least.

When he became more aware of reality again, he wasn't in the station anymore. He was in the medbay. So maybe feeling the floor give out from under him wasn't a hallucination. Stephen probably portaled him here and the poking and prodding that followed was the sorcerer digging the bullets out of his body. Quill winces as he pushes his blankets away from his bare chest to check his wounds, and sure enough they were bandaged. The bandages could probably come off since he only felt a little sore, and he knew that wasn't because of drugs. Stephen and Bruce still haven't made any painkillers that Quill's celestial powers wouldn't burn through as fast as they gave them to him, so it always sucked when he got hurt.

He looks to the side at one of his arms and reaches over with his other hand to grab the IV, but a smaller hand stops him.

"Don't. It was helping you stay hydrated while you...regenerated." Cassie pulls his hand away from the IV and Quill instead brushes her hair back.

"Hey sweetheart. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Not even a scratch." She confirms and Quill looks around the room. "Dad's taking a shower. He was covered in blood."

Quill's eyes widen. "What?!"

"It was just yours! He doesn't have a scratch on him either. He was just trying to slow the bleeding."

"Good..." Quill covers his face. "Can I get out of here now?"

"You're officially the most impatient. Peter is a close second." Bruce says as he walks in.

He checks Quill's wounds, and like the celestial suspected, they were completely healed over and only a couple of them left behind a scar. No big deal. Quill thought scars were pretty badass. They were proof of what someone survived. He felt the same way about the scars on Scott's neck, but that was still a little different and it always broke his heart whenever he looked at them. The self blame never really went away. Quill was convinced he could have saved Scott from that whole mess.

As soon as the bandages and the IV were removed, Quill sat up and slid off the bed. He was always voracious after his body healed itself like that, and he was very intent on getting back up to their floor so he could eat everything he found in the fridge. Eat and then sleep for a couple of days. It was a solid plan. Except Cassie had other ideas. She followed him up to their floor, promptly pushed him up to his and Scott's room where he could hear the shower running, and threw one of his tank tops and sleep pants at him. Cassie left him blinking down at his clothes after demanding him to change and take a nap, and promised to wake him up for a proper meal. He wasn't going to complain. An actual meal sounded much more appealing than grazing through the fridge.

So he changed, flopped onto the (much more comfortable) bed on his stomach and immediately passed out. He briefly woke up when Scott came out of their bathroom and got dressed, pulling the younger down on the bed next to him so he could nuzzle Scott's neck before dozing off again. Not before hearing him huff fondly and say something along the lines of 'You're such a suffocating teddy bear'.

Quill knew. Not only because Scott constantly reminded him, but also because he lived to have the younger thief in his arms. He lived for that weird scent of mint and oranges that he always smelled on Scott. His eyes that shined gold in the sunlight...his smile. Fuck. Everything. Once upon a time, he loved Gamora...but Scott? Quill lived for him. Scott was the reason he believed in soulmates, and he would do anything to keep him and Cassie safe. They were his family. Not like the Guardians were his family, but family.

When Quill woke up again, it was to Cassie knocking on their bedroom door to let them know that lunch was ready (as he had slept through the night after the subway incident). Scott moved to get up, but the celestial wasn't having it. Not yet. He wanted a couple of minutes to hold him while awake.

"Come on Spaceman. You need to eat...and no, I'm not an option."

Quill smirks as he opens his eyes and pulls Scott tightly against him so he can gently nip at the unblemished parts of Scott's neck. His breath hitches at the attention and he unconsciously tilts his head away to give the god more space to work with. Quill prided himself in knowing just what buttons to press. He knew what spots got Scott frisky, which ones had him turning into a boneless heap, and he knew how to help Scott relax. Giving attention to his scars or just his neck in general always turned Scott into a boneless mess...as long as the scars weren't bothering him.

"Quill..." Scott murmers as he fists his hand in the pirate's hair.

"I've got you Sugar." Quill purrs into his ear. "I always got you."

He slips his hand under Scott's shirt and his hand makes it halfway up to his chest when they're interrupted by a shout.

"NOW!" Cassie yells from the kitchen and Quill huffs.

"She's lucky I love her." He grumbles and Scott laughs as he bats Quill away.

"You do need to eat Spaceman. You can have me all to yourself later."

Quill sighs. "Fine."

He releases his hold on Scott and they both get out of bed, and Quill grabs him around the waist to stop him again when they get to the door.

"Are you kidding me Quill?! You're-"

"Completely and totally in love with you? What gave it away?"

Scott opens and closes his mouth for a few stunned moments before finally deciding to turn to Quill and pull him down into a kiss. When he pulls away, a small smile graces the younger's face, and blush creeps up his cheeks to his ears.

"I love you too big guy."

"You know I would move heaven and earth for you right?" Quill whispers.

"I do now."

[reactivebangtan]

REQUEST: Are your requests open? I didn’t see anything saying that they weren’t so I’m sorry if they’re not. But if they are could you possibly do a BTS reaction to when their S/O comes home after a really stressful day at work and something really little and trivial sets them off and makes them cry? I work in a memory care facility and today was literally the worst. REQUESTED BY: anonymous WARNINGS: nothing! NOTES: this is so late but i hope your day got a little better!  ♡ 

he could see it as soon as you walked in the door — your usual smile upon hearing his ‘ welcome home, sweetheart! ’ was dim, your eyes seemed distant ( he’d bet anything that your head wasn’t where your body was ), and even your feet seemed out of place as you moved from the front door. there was no telling what caused it or how bad the damage was, but he didn’t bother second-guessing himself when he asked: ❝ are you okay, babe? ❞ from his place in the kitchen — he’d gotten so used to cooking meals late to accommodate your work schedule that he simply found himself there around this time everyday — he could see the way your whole body tensed, the way you paused, the way his question rolled over you and he could see exactly when it hit you. it seems that was all it took, as even though your mouth never opened, the tears that immediately welled in your eyes and shook your shoulders answered his question all on their own. instantly, you had two strong arms wrapping themselves around your body and supporting your weight, allowing you to lean into him completely as the shell you’d precariously built around yourself came crumbling down. sobs shook your body, your limbs trembled with every inhale and your chest squeezed with every exhale, and even though seokjin held you up it felt as if the floor was coming out from under you. after consistently holding it in all day it felt almost therapeutic to let it go, though, and once he sat you down and your cries calmed into little hiccups and gasps you could feel the weight of the day sliding off you in languid, heavy waves. every once in a while his thumb would pass over your cheek to catch a stray tear, or you’d feel his mouth press to the side of your head, as if he wanted to make sure you knew he was still there, sitting with you — he never asked another question, never bothered to shush you, simply allowing you to get it all out until you couldn’t cry anymore. and, by the time you did finally stop, he smiled at you like your eyes weren’t puffy and your nose wasn’t running and your make-up wasn’t streaked all over the place — he smiled like it was his first time seeing you walk through the door, like he’d been missing you all day, like he didn’t mind all the mess. there’s no ‘ do you feel better, now? ’, no ‘ get it all out? ’, no trying to cheer you up and simply move past this, just the serene calm that washes over you when he brushes your hair back and kisses your forehead one more time. ❝ how does a bath sound? you can soak the day off, and dinner should be finished by the time you get out. come on — i’ll start it for you. ❞

yoongi tried not to take it too personally when your response to him showing up at your place was dismissive and almost tired, brushing it off as you simply being exhausted from working so much lately. he even chalks up the way you grumble to yourself while in the kitchen to mere fatigue, opting to hover in the doorway rather than get in your way as you seemingly argue with the vegetables and scowl at the seasonings. it isn’t until a certain scent hits his nose that he actually makes his way into the warzone, sniffing all the way up to the undeniable source before noting it as blatantly as possible: ❝ you burnt the rice. ❞ when his gaze moves from the mess inside the pot to your face he expects to see that glare fixated on him, but instead is met with you covering your mouth and turning away as soon as you notice he’s looking at you. a strange reaction to say the least, but then you were never exactly normal by any means, and it’s another thing he’s willing to excuse away until he sees the way your shoulder trembles and your breath shudders out of you, choking halfway out. it takes all of five seconds to realize what’s happening, before he’s rushing towards you with all the intent to make it stop and no real idea how. the first words that clumsily tumble out of his mouth are: ❝ it’s not that bad, ❞ but when your immediate response is a choked ❝ it’s not that, ❞ his shoulders are slumping a little further and his brows furrowing even tighter. he doesn’t try to assume what’s got you upset, aware of the fact that you’ll tell him sooner or later and that it takes more than an educated guess to understand. instead, he opts for taking you into his arms and shushing you, holding you as close as he can without completely suffocating you. yoongi has never been the best with affection, but he’s certainly not the worst, either — this shows, now, with the way his hand cradles the back of your head and leans it on his shoulder, and how he says nothing when he feels your tears soaking into the material of his shirt and hitting his skin. it isn’t the first time you’ve cried in front of yoongi, and yet you still feel ashamed through the tears and the sobs and the whimpers — clutching onto the material of his shirt, you try to stand up straight, to get yourself together, but your knees are weak and you’re so tired and all you can do is lean against him and apologize, because what else is there to do? ❝ i’m sorry — ❞ you start, but he doesn’t let you finish, quieting your weak, trembling voice with a strong: ❝ don’t be. just let it out. ❞ and, you swear he holds you a little tighter, pulls you a little closer, before you’re wrapped entirely in him.

❝ hey, babe! ❞ hoseok’s cheery voice on the other side of the phone line is almost enough to lift your spirits right away, and you almost feel as if he knew you weren’t feeling like yourself — he always seems to call when things start to look gloomy, especially when he couldn’t be there — the thought bringing a little smile to your face. ❝ hey, hobi, ❞ comes your exhausted greeting, spoken on a heavy sigh ( he’s always done that to you, dragged the air right out of you somehow, like a simple breath could knock away the weight of the world, like he has the right to steal your breath away ). ❝ what’s up? ❞ you exchange your usual conversation collectively recounting all the little steps of your day, odd chatter in the background of his end filling the silence between words and your solemn breathing, all as you prepare your dinner and buzz about your kitchen. another thing you loved about him; he listened to anything you had to say, soaking it all in like a sponge and relishing in it, all because he couldn’t be there with you to experience it all firsthand — it’s second best to the real thing, but it’s enough. it isn’t until you accidentally swipe your hand over the counter in a grand display to what you were explaining that conversation stops mid-sentence and he’s left questioning you as to why you’ve gone quiet — you say nothing, already feeling your throat closing up at the sight before you begins swimming in a blend of color and shapes as tears fill your eyes. food — the last of the food you have in your house — is now all over the floor and painting the sides of your counters, and you swear you see a crack in the side of the bowl you had put it all in. all hoseok gets is a quiet chanting of ‘ no, no, no, no, ’ and more questions than answers. sure, it was cheap food and the bowl was plastic, but you were looking forward to finally sitting down and enjoying something today, and yet it seems the divines have other plans. ❝ what happened? are you okay? ❞ ❝ no, ❞ you whine, voice now clouded and thick with the frustration and despair that had built a home in your chest and decided to, apparently, live there. his chest aches, too, when he hears the way you whimper helplessly into the phone. ❝ my dinner is all over the floor and i have nothing else to eat and the bowl is broken and it’s everywhere and — ❞ ❝ okay! okay, hey, breathe, ❞ it’s all he can do to cut you off, evening out his own breathing and listening for yours to do the same. ❝ it’s okay. it’s just food, right? you didn’t get hurt? ❞ waiting again to hear your affirmation, the smallest of smiles worms its way onto his face — god, you could be wailing at the top of your lungs, and he’d still think you’re cute. ❝ i’ve got an idea — can you wait to clean it up? ❞ ❝ yeah, i guess... ❞ you sniffle, wiping away the few stray tears that escaped your eyes in the midst of your despair.  ❝ why? ❞ ❝ 'cause i’m coming over to help! ❞ he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you can just hear the door close behind him as he saunters out into the world, on his way to find you.  ❝ and, i’m bringing pizza. unlock your door for me, okay? ❞

a sudden gasp and a yelped ‘ no, please don’t — ! ’ from the other room is enough to get namjoon up and out of the professional stupor he’d been in for the last three hours, finally leaving his pen and paper behind for the sake of whatever you’d gotten yourself into this time. he’s prepared for something spilled or something ripped or perhaps something broken, but what he isn’t prepared for is to see you standing over something spilled, ripped and broken with tears in your eyes. your latest book, one you’d been particularly excited about reading, lay at your feet with the pages soaked through with juice you’d left sitting on the side, words bleeding out into the paper and smearing, one page even half-torn and dangling just past the rest. in an effort to save it, you’d grabbed the closest thing available — which ended up being one of your shirts from the day before — and began desperately pressing it to the pages in order to soak some of the mess up. it did very little, and only caused you to get more frustrated, which ended up in another influx of tears.  ❝ hey, babe, it’s okay, ❞ namjoon’s soothing voice washes over you as he steps farther into the room, causing you to finally look up from the disaster before you.  ❝ i can buy you a new one, alright? please don’t cry over it. ❞ his words drip with honey, sugared in sympathy and a level of care that only he can produce, just as his hands reach out to wipe away the freshest of your tears as they trail hotly down your cheeks. ❝ it’s not just the book, ❞ you start, lip quivering — his heart breaks a little at the sight of it. ❝ everything’s been going wrong today. everything. ❞ 

it’s impossible to imagine how frustrated you must be just by your words alone, but he’s got a pretty good idea — he’s well acquainted with the sentiment, knowing far too well how it feels to have everything seemingly out of your control, crashing down around you and swallowing you up in the aftermath. watching as you spare another glance at the mess that is your destroyed book and seeing the way your shoulders sag in defeat, he spares one last glance himself at the door he’d walked through only moments before and sets his mouth in a hard-line; work can wait, he decides. ❝ well, we can’t go wrong with takeout, right? ❞ a smile alights his face when you shrug in response, nodding shortly after.  ❝ how about we call some food in and just chill out for the night? we can... watch some movies or something. something with a happy ending. how does that sound? ❞ his smile only grows when you notices your own slowly bringing itself to life on the deadened features you’d taken to, just as you reach up to swipe away the last of the evidence of your minor breakdown. you glow, again ( at least, in his eyes ). ❝ yeah... that sounds perfect. ❞

you’ve held it in all day, expertly avoided questions like ‘ hey, are you okay? ’ and smiled every time someone got a little too close to seeing through your facade. it took all the willpower you had to not either leave or breakdown in the bathroom, already beyond frustrated with most everything going on — it didn’t help that nothing seemed to go your way, everything that could go wrong was and absolutely no one seemed to care but you. because of all this, you can’t help the relief that washes over you when you’re standing in front of your front door, knowing that beyond lay not only a bottle of wine and a cozy bed, but also your loving boyfriend.  ❝ jimin? ❞ you call out as you shut it behind you, unable to help yourself from seeking him out almost immediately. getting a soft ‘ back here! ’ in return, you begin trailing to the back of your shared apartment, a little smile beginning to bloom on your lips as the comfortable silence in the house lapses over everything else and peace surrounded you. you’re no longer paying attention to what room you enter or how your body swerves around different corners, only aware of the fact that he’d be waiting there with open arms and that dazzling smile of his at the end. it isn’t until your feet hit the cold tile floor of your bathroom that you stop to notice the walls that encase you and, in turn, the divine scene set before you. candles were precariously placed on all the places they’d fit ( one balanced on the sink, on the back of the toilet, two on the thin rims of the bathtub, even one on the floor ), water was filled to the brim of the tiny tub with petals delicately scattered over the surface and a pleasant aroma filled the air — cinnamon and sugar and sweet almond, a soft blend that hits you just as your eyes settle on the man you’d been waiting hours to see. ❝ what is all of this? ❞ you ask, and he doesn’t seem to notice the tremble in your voice right away, instead smiling sheepishly in return and averting his gaze nervously. ❝ well, you texted me that you weren’t feeling well, and you always do this sort of thing for me when i’m not feeling my best, so... ❞ when all he gets in silence in return he finally forces himself to look at you and gauge your reaction, as, for some reason beyond him, he was utterly terrified to see what it was. did he do too much? too little? did he mess something up? the horror only doubled when he saw you covering your mouth and tears springing to your eyes, threatening to flow freely any moment — the candles flickered against them, alighted them and gived them a glow, and suddenly all he wanted to do was snuff them out. despite the fear and anxiety, he rushes to you within an instant and hovers just outside of touching you for fear of provoking you further:  ❝ ah! did i do something wrong? i didn’t mean to make you cry! ❞ ❝ no, ❞ you manage to choke out, one hand shooting out to balance yourself on his bicep, squeezing and trying to ground yourself; eventually, you have no choice but to shut your eyes and let the tears fall from your lashes.  ❝ it’s nothing you did. this is — this is wonderful, jimin, thank you. ❞ the fear dissolves as your words spill as clumsily from your lips as your tears from your eyes, but the anxiety remains nuzzled into his chest, just as you do a moment later. this time, without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you and supports your weight as you try to calm yourself down, reign yourself in, and when you fail to do even that. ❝ did something happen at work today? ❞ ❝ something like that, ❞ comes your weak response.  ❝ i’m sorry, jimin. you must’ve worked really hard to do all of this, and yet i’m... ❞ ❝ it’s okay, ❞ his voice is so sweet, so soft, whispered right into your ear, warming your skin.  ❝ you know i don’t mind. besides, you can still enjoy it, right? ❞ sinking into his arms and filling your lungs with air ( and, in turn, the scent he’d chosen ), you allow your heart to settle in your chest and the tears to slow, the ache in your head subsiding — how did you ever get to be so lucky?     ❝ can... we enjoy it? ❞ a chuckle is your immediate response, before he’s kissing the top of your head and smoothing his hands down your sides — he takes his time sliding his fingertips beneath the hem of your shirt and lifting it just as slowly, caressing the dip of your hip and the curve of your waist as he does so, and the rest of your clothes are slipped off all in the same way:  ❝ i’d like that. ❞   

water thoroughly soaks through the material of your clothing and the chill that comes with it sinks into your skin and aches in your bones, all of which cause you to tremble and shake. you can see no sign of the rain stopping anytime soon, and all you can think is how this is the perfect ending to the worst sort of day — it can’t get any worse, you mock yourself in your head. now all i can do is look up! right. you couldn’t look up if you wanted to at the moment, unless you wanted to drown, both physically ( which you know isn’t exactly possible, but after considering your luck for the day you decide not to take the risk ) and metaphorically.  the noise of water hitting concrete drowned out your groans and little whimpers, the cold coaxing them out of you over and over, until you weren’t sure you knew how to make any other sound. thankfully, you managed to find an overhanging roof that you could tuck yourself under, but every so often the wind would blow the rain onto you anyway, and it dripped incessantly from above, soaking into your hair. without truly realizing it, you begin to tear up, salt mingling with the fresh water clinging to your form — it isn’t until you feel the warmth racing down your cheek and cooling by the time it drips off your chin that you truly realize.  it made sense, after a day like this — it seemed no matter how hard you worked things wouldn’t go right, and you could see the annoyance in your co-workers eyes every single time you messed up even slightly, until you couldn’t bare to look them in the eye anymore. those you were helping never seemed to be satisfied, and your help seemed to just add to their problems, until you tried to hang back and interact as little as possible. eventually, this all added up to you getting yelled at and reprimanded for things you couldn’t really help, which, although it wasn’t your breaking point, it was pretty damn close. and, if that weren’t enough, you were looking forward to finally going home and being able to relax, maybe grab a glass of that good wine you’ve been waiting to serve and take a hot bath, until even that was taken from you as soon as you stepped up to the exit. you could feel the cold from the other side of the glass, and you tried to prepare yourself, you really did, but the walk back home was far too long for weather like this. still, you had no other choice. it is, afterall, how you got here. the world around you seems bleak, without life and color, and the sheer loneliness of it has you clutching at yourself in order to ground yourself — the feeling brings you back to the real world just enough for you to shove your hand into your bag and rummage around in order to find your phone, finally resorting to your last option. when the line clicks and you hear him shuffling around, you don’t even give him a chance to say ‘ hello? ’: ❝ tae? ❞ ❝ y/n? is everything okay? ❞ ❝ if ‘ okay ’ is being drenched and freezing, then yes, ❞ you try to reply smoothly, but you’re certain he can hear the tremble in your voice. ❝ are you, by any chance, busy? ❞ ❝ too busy to come pick you up? no, ❞ his reply is smooth, though, and it eases you just a little.  ❝ send me your location. ❞ waiting there for him seems to take forever, and the lonely streets only get lonelier and lonelier the longer you’re left standing there, by yourself, anticipating everything and nothing all at once. you find yourself thinking things like ‘ what if he doesn’t come? ’ and ‘ what if he forgets? ’ despite knowing he’d never do such a thing. and, you thought you were crying before, but the relief that washes over you when you finally spot taehyung’s car is enough to bring it all back, your lip trembling and your eyes stinging. it’s damn near overwhelming, how it forces the air out of your lungs and has you clutching ever tighter to yourself. it doesn't get bad, though, until you actually see him stepping out of the car, your eyes immediately meeting through the thick curtain of water dividing you. with an umbrella in hand and his destination seemingly nothing but you, you get all choked up and practically run to him when he’s close enough. the umbrella just barely shields you both from the onslaught of rain, but it’s enough to get you both in the car, his clothes, for the most part, unscathed.  and, in the immense relief comes even more as you feel the hot air coming out of the car, momentarily blinding you to the fact that you’re still crying. it was impossible to stop yourself, to shut it all down, and by the time you’re trying to simply it and the evidence of the torrential downpour off your cheeks, he notices.  ❝ bad day? ❞ he asks, reaching out far enough to lay a hand over your thigh, squeezing. ❝ yeah, ❞ you breathe. ❝ the worst. i’m sorry for taking you away from whatever you were doing, though. ❞ ❝ don’t be — i didn’t even know it was raining until you called, otherwise i would’ve come to pick you up at work. ❞ not once today has someone said ‘ don’t be ’ to you today when you apologized, not once have they showed you sympathy, and not once have they shown you care. that is the final straw. ❝ thank you, ❞ you start, eyes watering and mouth turned up into the softest, shakiest smile. he only looks at you briefly, trying to keep his attention fixated on the road, but whatever he manages to see is enough to make him frown.  ❝ thank you, taehyung. ❞ ❝ thank me when we get back to the dorms, ❞ comes his curt reply, another swift squeeze on your thigh stopping you from saying otherwise or arguing with his decision.  ❝ they’re closer, and i don’t want you getting sick from staying in those clothes. this project shouldn't’ take much longer, anyway, so i should be able to spend some time with you tonight. we can... order take-out, and just sit around or watch a movie or something. how does that sound? ❞ ❝ sounds like the best thing i’ve heard all day. ❞   

among the top of the list of things you love about jungkook is his spirited, competitive mentality that always seemed to push him to do his best in anything and everything — it was one of the things that attracted you to him in the first place, one of those things you find endearing ( most people look at you weird for that, but you don’t mind ), and something you deal well with. sure, you might get a little competitive yourself, but it didn’t seem to matter who really won to you when you were with him. whether you won or lost you got something out of it, whether it be his cute pout or his beautiful smile. this is why, after you got home and he could practically see the stress rolling off you in tangible waves, then proceeded to offer to play you on your favorite video game you couldn’t see it going wrong. a perfect way to unwind after a long day and vent your frustrations, right? wrong. every time you got your score beat and your ass virtually kicked it just seemed like a repeat of the whole day — you couldn’t do anything right, the buttons weren’t working the way they were supposed to and you just kept failing. you couldn’t even win one time! not once! just as quickly as the frustration had melted away when you stepped through the front door, it seemed to return just as fast the longer you stared at that damn screen, the bright colors and lively music taunting you. where his usual little whoops of triumph and victory dance might’ve warmed you on a normal day, today they only set the feeling in stone and weighed down on your shoulders like absolutely everything else. it isn’t until he wins for the tenth time that you really start to feel it, though, that overwhelming and suffocating sort of frustration that makes your chest ache and your head hurt and everything in you tense at the sensation of it. the controller protested with a subtle crackling noise as your hands tightened around it, and it was all you could do to simply look away and clench your jaw. i will not cry over this, you chant in your head. i will not cry over this. no matter of trying to convince yourself would work, though, as even though your eyes are closed you can feel the tears building up behind your lids. the heat of them is overwhelming, burning their way past your lashes and trailing down your cheeks before you can even try to stop them. ❝ babe? ❞ jungkook breaks you from your inner turmoil, just as he’s leaning close to you to get a glimpse of your expression, but can’t quite reach that far. ❝ you’re not really that mad about losing, are you? ❞ it’s all you can offer, a shake of your head instead of words that come out on a shaky breath and crack halfway up your throat, so weak in tone that you just feel that much more worthless. you know he can hear it anyway, that he knows, that you’re not hiding it as well as you would’ve liked to. ❝ babe? ❞ he asks once again, his question now soft and tender and so, so aware.  ❝ are you... are you crying? ❞ there’s no need to look at him to know his mouth is turned down and his brows are pinched together, and there’s no need for him to see your face when he already knows tears are marring it all the way down your cheeks. suddenly, though, he’s moving from his seat to stand in front of you, his controller tumbling from his lap and clattering to the floor — the noise has your eyes popping open, only to see him standing there, looking at you with those big, worry-filled eyes. the sympathy is damn near tangible, rolling off of him in thick, languid waves that wash over you until you’re crying all over again. ❝ i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ it’s not you, ❞ you start, assuring him of your words with a squeeze to his bicep. ❝ today has just been — ❞ the words get caught in your throat just from remembering it all, leading to you momentarily choking on them. ❝ nothing’s been going right, i kept messing up at work, i can’t even do this right, and it’s making me feel so — so worthless. ❞ he never knows what to do in these situations, can never think of the right thing to say, too caught up in the fact that you’re hurting to think of anything else. the best thing he can do is run his hand down the length of your arm until he can lace his fingers together with yours, holding on to you as tight as he can in hopes of grounding you here, with him. ❝ you know i’m not... good at this sort of thing, but is there anything i can do? ❞ it takes you moment to think about it, but the idea comes quickly enough:  ❝ could we maybe just... lay down for a bit? ❞ the idea of being all wrapped up in him is almost as therapeutic as the real thing, and you can feel your heart slowing down at just the thought — even if it’s just being close to him, or the smell of him, or his heat radiating against your side you feel calm instantaneously.  ❝ yeah, of course, but are you sure you want me there? i just made you cry. ❞ ❝ it wasn’t you, ❞ you remind him, squeezing his hand right back. ❝ i couldn’t think of anything else today, other than coming home to you. being near you, it... it helps me. you help me. ❞ a sheepish smile works its way onto his lips, and he’s finally looking like himself again — worry is still evident on his features, but it’s become dim and overwhelmed by the joy now twinkling in his eyes from your words.  ❝ let’s go, then, ❞ he replies, taking to picking you up straight out of your seat and depositing you into his arms, holding you close to him even when your squirming and exclamation of ‘ kookie! ’ says you can walk perfectly fine on your own. ❝ what? we’ll get there faster like this! ❞ ( and, despite your pushing at his chest and adamant wiggling, a smile has bloomed upon your face and your tears have begun to dry, that renewed twinkle reflecting in your eyes as well. )   

[sherrybaby14]

The Past Gives A Present

This is for @multi-villain-imagines challenge

I took the prompt: Catching up: We all have that one person, from the past we rather not meet again. But what happens if we do?

I did not go very heavy on the AU, really the only thing different is Negan’s past and we are in A/B/O territory.

Words: 3k Part 1 of 2 Warnings: Swearing, abuse, A/B/O Tags: @thecynicalnerd @marauderice @mac5323 @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @negan--is--god @kellyn1604 @i-am-negan-trash @roschelesworld @taintedgenre @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl @purplemuse89 @blondesouthsquad @enchantingoblivion @jmackie1983 @jasoncrouse @theonethatgotaway213 @negans-network

A/N: I really wanted to do this in one! But I felt like this was a good place to stop.  I’ve never seen Uncaged, but felt like this prompt fit what I know about the movie and I’ve always wanted to write a story on this Gif:

“This better be good.”  Negan held Lucille over his shoulder as he followed Simon through the Sanctuary.

“I don’t know if it’s good.” Simon shrugged. “I told you it was weird.  Some guy showed up at the gate demanding to speak to who was in charge.”

“And you don’t recognize him?” Negan glanced behind as his number two shook his head. “And you didn’t kill him?”  

“He doesn’t seem dangerous.” Simon stepped in front of Negan and pushed the door open. “He’s a Beta and you said all new recruits are filtered through you now, but I don’t think he wants to stay.”

“You know the rules, you know where the Sanctuary is, you either assimilate or we decimate.” Negan grinned at his rhyme.

It was a pity the guy was a Beta. Alphas were harder to keep in line, but once they settled they were a hell of a lot better warriors. Negan needed his army large and strong if the Saviors were going to keep on saving.  

They strode in silence towards the fence. Negan wished he grabbed a pair of sunglasses as the sun blinded him.  

“Well boys, who do we have here?” Negan twirled Lucille in front of him.  

“Sharkey?”

The name made Negan freeze.  

“Sharkey is that you?”  The man at the gate walked towards Negan, his guards letting him go by.

“Holy fuck of fucks, Reggie?”  Negan opened his arms and gave his old friend a hug.  

“What’s it been 20 years?” Reggie pulled back.  

“At least?” Negan thought he would never see anyone from that part of his life again.  “What are you doing on the east coast?”

“What am I doing? What the hell are you doing Sharkey? This place is gigantic! And you’re in charge?” Reggie laughed. “I got to say you always did know how to keep the whores in line better than anyone.”

Negan gave a nervous laugh and looked around, the only one in earshot was Simon who gave him an accusatory smile.

“It’s Negan now.”

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck you like man.”  Reggie pointed towards the main building. “You have to have a sweet set up here. Bet you have tons of food, guns, women?”  

“You always did go straight for the grift Reggie.” Negan scratched his head, the excitement of seeing someone from his old-old life fading. “Whatever con your planning, don’t bother.  We may go way back but that doesn’t mean I won’t bash your brains in to protect my people.”

“Your people?”  Reggie laughed. “I remember one time that hoe Janice started talking back and you…”

“That’s not my game anymore.” Negan held his hand out, silencing the man. “I didn’t enjoy it back then and I certainly wouldn’t enjoy it now.  Let’s skip the trip down memory lane. How the fuck did you find this place and why the hell are you here?”

“Spotted a car, followed it. These colonies are popping up all over the place.” Reggie brushed his shoulders. “I’m still in sales baby.”

“If you came here trying to push drugs maybe I will have to bash your head in.” Negan was losing his patience.  

“Hell no! Who the fuck wants to get high in this bullshit life?” Reggie held up both his hands. “The dead walking around trying to eat you?  The last thing anyone wants is a bump.”

“Well then what are you selling?” Negan put Lucille back over his shoulder, really tempted to swing her just to shut Reggie up.  

“Something you are going to go crazy for.”  Reggie grinned.

Negan was about to say fuck it and hit him, when the next word slipped from his mouth and changed everything. ~~~  

It was dark and hot in the trailer.  So hot.  You crumpled on the ground, not even with enough energy to lift your head. If they didn’t give you water soon you were going to die, but after the last week that didn’t sound like such a bad option.  

“Holy shit does it reek.” The back of the trailer opened and you struggled to open your eyes.

“We have to keep them surrounded by garbage.” You cringed at your captor’s voice. “The damn things smell so sweet they attract Walkers, probably why so few of them are alive.”

“Shit are you sure she’s alive?” The strange voice was almost booming.

“Yeah. Meg here is just taking a nap.”  Reggie grabbed your head and tilted your neck.  A bottle was brought to your lips and warm water filled your mouth.  

Any inclination to avoid the water vanished and you started chugging, knowing it was the only sip he was going to give you for at least another day, probably more.

“When I first picked her up she was a real fighter.”  Arms went under your legs and you were hoisted in the air. “I don’t like to waste supplies on the merchandise either.”  

“How long has she been in here?”

Your skin was on fire and even through shut eyes the sun felt like flames.  You leaned into Reggie for protection from the rays.  

“Grabbed Meg up about a week ago.”  Reggie dropped his arm and your legs fell.

You were too tired to support yourself and collapsed on the dirt floor.

“Jesus Christ Reggie.” A hand bent down and touched your forehead. “She’s burning up.”

You winced away, fell backwards, then turned and curled into a ball.

“Maybe her heat is coming on? Good for you Mr. Alpha.”  Reggie’s voice was like nails on a chalk board.

The man was a moron if he thought this was a heat fever.

“More like she’s about to die.” There was anger in his voice.

“You want her or not?” Now Reggie sounded annoyed. “Because we’d like to sell her before she dies.  If you’re not interested, we will get another buyer.”

“Simon, pick her up and take her straight to Carson. The rest of you start unloading Reggie’s supplies.”  Hands were under you lifting you into the air again.  

They didn’t feel like Reggie’s, but you were too out of it to care at the moment, wanting nothing more than sleep.  

“Remember we get fifteen guns, fifteen boxes of ammo, two month’s supply of food and three month’s supply of water.” Reggie’s voice trailed off as you were carried away. ~~~ “Ughh.” Your body was stiff, but your head no longer felt heavy.  You shifted in the bed and turned to your side.

“You’re awake.”  A chair rolled across the room. Your eyes shot open.  You were in a strange looking room, cabinets and medical supplies.  It was not your attic, but more importantly it wasn’t the back of Reggie’s trailer.  Before you sat up all the way a man in scrubs was in front of your face, flashing a light before your eyes.  You smacked his hands and sat up in the bed, pulling your legs to your chest in the process.

“Sorry.” The man held his hands in surrender. “I’m not familiar with Omegas. Was I overstepping? I know you can be a nervous bunch.”

Frustration rolled through you.

“How would you act if you were kidnapped and held in darkness without any food or water?” You sneered at the man, unable to understand the stereotypes. “Where the fuck am I?”

The last thing you remembered was wanting to die on the floor of the trailer.  

“Fair enough.”  He dropped his hands. “My name is Dr. Carson. You’re Meg?”

You shook your head in disbelief and leaned it down on your knee.

“That’s what Reggie called all of us.  As in Omega.  Get it?”  If it was just the Doctor getting out of this place might not be so hard.  

“Oh.” He shrugged. “You came in with a bacterial infection.  I put you on antibiotics.  Your fever broke about twelve hours ago.  I think you should follow up with pills for a few days.”  

“Suppressants?” Your ears perked up at the mention of pills.

“That is something you will have to take up with Negan.” The doc shook his head.

“Who the hell is Neg?”

“NO.”  

Your head snapped to the voice in the doorway.  An Alpha looked down at you before walking the rest of the way into the room.  His eyes alone were enough to give away his makeup and you looked away, not wanting your biology to kick in.

“How’s the patient Carson?”  Negan stood next to your bed.

“Should make a full recovery.  Observation for the next few hours, antibiotics twice a day taken with food for the next ten days.”  Carson placed a bottle in Negan’s hand.

“That’s good news.” Negan tucked the bottle into his pocket, you wouldn’t look up. “Why don’t you go and treat yourself to some extra dessert? They’re about to start dinner.”

The Doctor stood up.  Now the only thing in your eyesight was an empty chair.  Negan wasted no time sitting down.  You kept your chin tucked, not wanting to deal with Alpha bullshit. The door to the room shut and you struggled not to bring your hands to your shoulders.

“What’s your name Doll?”  He leaned forward, trying to get a look at your face.

“Fuck you.”  He could look all he wanted, but you would not deal with the Alpha intimidation.

“Hmmm, your parents must have been strange to pick that one.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sandwich.  Your stomach grumbled at the sight. “Alright if I use FU for short?”

He held the food out and you snatched it away.  There was time for pride and a time for survival.  You wasted no time taking a giant bite. As if the man had a magic bag he pulled out a bottle of water.  You weren’t that thirsty, but grabbed it out of his hands too.  Undoing the lid and taking a chug.

“Carson hooked you up to an IV.  You’re filled with fluids, so take it easy.” You glanced at him to see a huge grin and your anger flared. “Maybe a thank you is in order?”

“Why would I thank someone who bought me like a piece of cattle?”  You wiped your mouth, still not daring to glare at him.

“I didn’t buy anyone Doll, you fell into my lap from the sky.” Negan laughed.

Fifteen guns. Fifteen boxes of ammo. The memories of your sale came back. You had to grit your teeth to keep from throwing up in repulsion.  

“Omegas are people too.  We were making great progress before…”

“Before the world went to hell and all of your kind died?”  Negan tried to turn his head, begging you to look at him. “Spare me on the Omega rights history.  It’s a new world now.  Tell me, are there any of your kind left?”

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. “I was alone. Reggie said there were three before me.  He hunted them one at a time.”

“But your scent attracted the dead?” Negan sounded interested.

“Everything attracts the dead.” You couldn’t help but glare at the man.  He did not try to hold your gaze and you relaxed a bit. “We don’t turn. We just die. I heard the government tried to round all the Omegas up for experiments. Find a cure.”

You took another swig of the water.

“But that’s a bunch of bullshit.  There is no government.  Nobody is trying to find a cure.” Once you broke eye contact with the man you realized he was using his Alpha presence on you, the fucker was just skilled enough to not make it so obvious.

“I would say you’re correct.” Negan laughed.

“Fuck you.” You turned your head to the wall and took another bite of your sandwich, vowing never to look into the man’s eyes again.

“Clever Omega.” Negan reached out and touched your leg, causing you to flinch.

“Asshole Alpha.” Your retort was the best you could come up with.

It did not have the affect you wanted as Negan burst out laughing and started to clap his hands.  

“Aren’t Omegas damsels in distress?” He scratched his head. “You break the mold Doll.”

“Omegas are people, not a stereotype.”  You took the last bite of the sandwich. “If you didn’t buy me, then let me go home.”

“Don’t bother. Never going to happen.” Negan reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of pills.  He set one on the bed. “If you don’t take that I will shove it down your throat FU.”

Long past wishing for death you didn’t hesitate to pop the pill.  

“Come on.” Negan stood up. “I want to take you to your room while everyone is at dinner.”

Everyone.  That could mean five or twenty people.  You swung your legs over the bed and realized you were in scrubs.

“You were changed and bathed.  You smelled like shit.”  Negan didn’t look behind. “Don’t worry. Some Beta females. But babydoll, your scent is coming back full force.  If I let you stay here any longer I’m going to end up killing some of my people. I don’t think either of us want that.”

Negan held open the door.  You kept your head low and stepped into the hall.  Your mouth fell open. Even the one hallway looked huge.  Any ideas of twenty people vanished.

“This way.”  Negan didn’t try to make eye contact as he moved through the hall. “Try and run.  Someone will grab you and it will not be pleasant.  You seem like a smart girl.”  

His voice carried an equal balance of honesty and threat. You fought down the tiny sense of pride that came with an Alpha’s compliment and followed his footsteps.  Of course you were barefoot, finding shoes would be a necessity.  

“I’m going to have to sequester you for a while.”  Negan stopped in front of an elevator and hit the button it came to life with a ding.

“What the…”. You lifted your head and noticed there was electricity everywhere.  The last few days made you oblivious to the wonders going on around here.

“The Sanctuary is fully functional.  We have gardens, clean drinking water, hot water, working showers, it’s the Ritz.” Negan stepped into the elevators as the door opened.  

You walked inside, your head feeling heavy.  You lifted a hand and braced yourself against the wall as the door shut, still feeling the after effects of the fever.

“I would have liked to let you recover longer, but the infirmary is no place for an unclaimed Omega.” Negan did not try and touch you.  

“Unclaimed now?” You took a breath. “So you buy me and then plan to mate me? How does it feel to be a human trafficker?”

“I didn’t traffic anyone.  And like I said, I didn’t buy you.” There was a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Hypocrite.”  Your arm started to shake. “Tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night.”

Negan ignored you and pulled out a key.  He hit the top floor and turned the small object before the light came on.  The two of you rode up in silence, your eyes getting heavier as you rose.  When the ding came your feet moved, but you tripped and started to fall.  Before the floor came arms were around you, cradling you in the air.  

“Someday you will look back at this and realize how much shit I put up with for you.” Negan walked out, his footsteps echoing.

As weak as you felt you lifted your head. There were too many points to be made to ignore at the moment. “Try and mate me and I will claw your eyes out after I bite off your dick and shove it down your throat.”  A small smile spread across your face.

“If only you had any idea how much you were turning me on FU.” Negan smiled. “But I’m not going to mate you. Not tonight. Not until you’re ready.”

“I will never be ready.” Now you smiled triumphantly.

“Alright.  That is your choice.” Negan’s smile didn’t drop. “There are fourteen Alphas under me.  When your heat hits you can decide.  Take me, or I will toss you in a pit of them.  See who survives.”

Fear hit your veins.  After the past week you went through the stages of grief.  Tonight you were more interested in defiance.  But now you were afraid.   “You’re a monster.”  There was a sharpness in your voice even you didn’t expect.

“Maybe.” Negan was not phased. “Or Maybe my past caught up to me tonight and I’m trying to make it right.”

“By buying a woman and then threatening to rape her or have her gang raped?” You didn’t understand his logic, anymore than you understood why you weren’t fighting to get out of his arms.

“If it was rape I would take you right now. Lord knows I want to.” Negan chuckled. “Twenty year old me would have.  He would have put a smart like yours in it’s place, but times change and people change.  Everyone who arrives at the Sanctuary gets the same choice as you Doll, assimilate or decimate.” He stopped at set you down on a bed, before sitting on the edge.  You lifted your head and tried to look around. It was a gigantic open space.  Almost like an office building that never got around to putting the walls up.  Then you looked down.  It was a king sized bed, covered with pillows and a brand new fluffy blanket.  There was no scent attached to anything up here.

“I’ll be back in the morning with some breakfast.”  Negan stood up.  He didn’t try and look at you. “Get some rest Omega.”

“Fuck you.” The pillows were so cuddly you couldn’t help but grab one.

“My apologies.” Negan laughed. “Get some rest Fuck You.”

A smile crossed your face. You didn’t want it too, but between the exhaustion and the comfort you cozied into the bed and let out a sigh of relief.  At least you weren’t in that trailer any longer.      

[bolbiistroganovsky]

this is gonna sound crazy cause my little sister is only 12, but i honest to god dont think i can continue living under the same roof as her for my own personal health. like she is just so horrible to me and there is nothing i can do about it because everytime ive tried to fight back or demand i be treated better i become the “bad guy” and am “overreacting” because im supposed to be older and be the bigger person. but im so tired of having to be the bigger person. i really dont think the way she treats me is normal sibling stuff either. thats why no one ever takes me seriously. they just say its normal sibling stuff but its not. its not just small arguments over who gets the TV or a borrowed sweater. shes just routinely rude and mean and judgemental. like ill do anything just being silly having fun and shell make the most judgemental face and cross her arms. or like today, we had an early thanksgiving and all day she was just making jokes about me being ugly even though its clear to anyone with eyes that im insecure about my appearance and like she just brushes it off as just jokes.i finally was sick of it so i told her point blank that i dont think those jokes are funny and they just ake her seem like a mean person and then i walked off and went to practice harp. then like two minutes later she barges in and starts yelling at me for overreacting, hits my harp, then storms off. and its a cycle. shell do something like that then an hour later shell come hug me and be really sweet and apologize and say all these nice things and then nothing changes and it happens again a day or two later. today actually the cycle happened twice in one day which i think is a new record. and its like, at this point id rather her just not apologize cause theyre clearly empty words. ive taken to saying “thank you for apologizing” very blankly and not saying anything else instead of “its ok” or “i forgive you” because i dont forgive her. er i think i forgive her which is why i keep getting hurt but i also know that itll happen again and i know that this apology ultimately means nothing so why tell her i forgive her when in practicality i dont? and i know sometimes i can be mean to her but not in the repeated antagonistic way she is. when im “mean” to her its like ill take the front seat even if she calls shotgun or ill say something like...honestly i cant even remember. i tried to think of something fairly recent and i cant recall a time where i started a fight by saying something mean. and whenever  tried to talk to her about the clear issues we have she always uses those few and far between things to justify everything she does to me. and my parents do it to. and ive always felt like thats just wrong that i am the primary victim but ive always chalked that up to bias. no one ever htinks theyre in the wrong, but now i feel justified in thinking im not in the wrong in these situations because i know that i dont antagonize her the way she antagonizes me. i dont push on her sore spots like bruises. shes always talking about how she has mroe friends than me, how shes the favorite, how shes mroe athletic than me, how shes better than me in every concievable way and i know i have neverintentionally pushed at her insecurities. and i know this because in the moment ive thought of what i could say that could make her hurt as bad as i do and i never say it partly because i know its wrong to say things like that, and partly because i know that if  did i would be treated like the villain even though ive been putting up with this ever since she could talk. its not like shes always been verbally horrible to me, but before shed be selfish with toys or shed intentionally ruin something i was doing and thats what would get to elementary school and middle school me, but now what gets me is when she intentionally pushes at my insecurities and then thinks all fine and dandy because she was “joking”. and i just cant stick up for myself. I honestly cant wait to graduate and leave. i love my family anf my school so much but she is the sole reason i want to leave. and like i really honestly hate her. i do not like her at all but i also still love her because she is still my sister. and it kind of sucks. i wish i could just not care about her at all and just be like “you know what? fuck you” and be done with it. but i cant because stupid ass me doesnt want to hurt anybody’s feelings. sometimes ive thought like what if i killed myslef and wrote a note about how i did it because i couldnt take living with her cruelty anymore? i dont actually want to die or kill myself because i love all parts of my life but her, but it feels like it would finally show everyone how horrible she actually is. like id be able to feel vindicated from the grave that everyone finally saw that i wasnt just being dramatic she actually was horrible to me. sometimes ill accidentally picture a family member dying and ill feel sad and ill tear up and think how much itd hurt but when i do it witih her, i feel like a terrible person admitting this, but i dont think id be that sad. id feel a little bit sad but id also feel relieved that id never have to deal with ehr again. but im also worried about her. like she has problems keeping friends and my mom always comforts her and tells her that sometimes things are meant to be and my sister will tell how the other girl is being snooty or mean and my mom drinks it up that my sister is the victim, but i cant help but think that she cant keep friends because she subconsciously treats them similarly to how she treats me, or that she attracts a similar kind of mean person like she is to be friends with. and i dont want that for her, i want her to be able to have friend and be nice. i want her to learn how to be a good person cause i know she can, but its like she cant learn she cant understand that what shes doing is wrong. and i feel conflicted becuase i wantto help her be better and i want to support her like a good big sister, but i also want to fight back and cut her out of my life. but i also feel bad cause like am i overreaecting after all? cause how could a 12 year old be this horrible to me? people always tell me shell grow out of it. they told me that when i was 7 and she was 3 and they told me that today and she hasnt. and im tired of waiting for her to grow up. i just want to be done with this. it feels like my instinct to stand up for myself and fight back is fighting my instinct to be a good sister. i also feel ashamed that i let my little sister get to me this badly. like im older and bigger and stronger and more experienced. i should be the one with the power. but for some reason i just cant. like i feel ridiculous for feeling like im being take nadvantage of by a 12 year old but its happening. i cant keep doing this anymore. im so sick of it. i just wish i could leave and never come back. everyone has always told me that well be best friends when were adults but ive always known that that wont be true. but now it doesnt even feel like we have enough of a relationship to even be regular friends after i leave home. i mean maybe thats a bit dramatic writing off our entire lives even though shes only twelve but i dont even think i would want to try and have a relationship with her even if i could in the future. it sjust too ddraining being aroudn her. its been too draining for nearly ten years and i just dont see that stopping. im just tired. she makes me tired. of being around her of living in this house of just living tbh. ughhhhhhhhhh. i think this is the worst its ever been. 

sorry this is such a long ass post. i could probably say more but i wont. im just tired of bottling it all up. i talked with my stepmom about it and she agrees. she says she understands that its not me and she told my sister that shes potentially jeopardizing our relationship in the future. and its such a breath of fresh air to have someone understand that its not me. she thinks we should go to counseling which we probably should. god ive gone to so much counseling whats wrong with me. anyways heres your sob story for the day. sorry