#and now ive forced myself to eat and returned to bed

[local-magpie]

admitted to myself that maybe, possibly, i feel like enough shit to call off today, and lo and behold the instant i allowed myself to feel like shit i realized my body feels like a bag of pears thrown in the wriggler today

[rafecameronscockwarmer]

THE KNIFE I TURN WITHIN MYSELF IV (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

word count: 4.5k

WARNINGS: DUB-CON at times, STEPCEST (sorry lol), drug abuse/self harm, depression, smut eventually I(T IS HERE)!!!! 18+ ONLY PLEASE

Summary: Kildare’s Kook Princess is forced to return home to the Outer Banks for the first time in two years since abruptly leaving for college. Unable to hold yourself together any longer, you’re forced to come face to face with the home and family you left behind and the boy you so desperately tried to forget

writes note: ahahahaha I am SO SO SO sorry to leave u guys hanging i absolutely hate when people do it only for me to turn around and do it too 🤡🤡🤡 18 breakdowns, one psychward trip and 6 months later PART FOUR IS HERE

You had successfully spent the last few weeks avoiding Rafe, choosing to spend your time with Sarah and the pogues at the Chateau, effectively distracting you from the ongoing turmoil that raged within you. You couldn’t avoid him forever, especially not with Midsummer’s coming up. You had missed the last two, and your mom and Ward had made it perfectly clear that your attendance with the family this year was mandatory. Ward had finally returned home, your little family was together again.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was allowing you to avoid him. He knew all had to do was get you alone, and you’d give in to him eventually and as much as he hated the wait, he knew that once Midsummer’s arrived, you would be his again just like you were all those years ago. Rafe knew you well enough to know that his indifference toward you would relieve you at first, before inevitably sending you back to him, willing and desperate for his attention. It’s a sick game, he knew, one he had never hoped to play with you, but your determination to keep your distance was starting to piss him off, so he decided to play the long game. Rafe just wanted you back in his arms, cumming around his cock, where you belonged.

You had found it weird that Rafe hadn’t been pestering you after you left his bed the next morning, your stomach constantly filled with unease as you waited for the other shoe to drop. To others, it would seem as if he was avoiding you but you knew Rafe well enough to know that was not the case. Rafe was consistent and persistent at least when it came to you, so the silence from him had you constantly on edge, and the coke definitely didn’t help.

Sarah and Kie had brought you to the Mainland for dress shopping , an activity you once enjoyed, whereas now you wished to be anywhere else. They both dragged you from shop to shop, nothing ever catching your eye, as they exchanged glances between each other about you.

“So, any idea what color you want to wear?” Sarah asked, nibbling on the fries on her plate as you all ate lunch choosing to take a break from shopping.

“Mmmh not really no, it doesn’t really matter to me.” You responded as you pushed around your salad, opting to play with your food instead of eating it. You couldn’t find the energy to eat let alone engage with Sarah or Kie, not when your mind kept wandering back to a certain Midsummer’s, a few years ago. You smiled weakly, finally trying, “Whatever makes my boobs look good.”

Sarah giggled, happy to see you finally emerging. “Please, your boobs would look good in a turtleneck.”

You and Kie snickered with her, knowing it was true, you had well.. ahem… always been extra blessed in that department.

Eventually, the three of you had made your way back to downtown wandering the cobblestoned streets, gazing into the windows of the shops. A red dress caught your eye from across the street, sparking a light in you that hadn’t been seen for months. Up close it was a deep red, adorned in ruffles on the bodice and sleeves, and it was sheer with a middle split. Very sheer. Not stopping to even check if Sarah and Kie were behind you, entering the shop with determination as you scanned for a worker, eyes zeroing on her when you found one.

“I would like that dress, the red one? In the window, please?” You asked, pointing at the dress, smiling at the sales lady who in turn nodded back to you, making her way to the display.

You sighed happily and clasped your hands together turning to see Kie and Sarah were in fact behind you. Kie looked at Sarah amused as Sarah looked at you with a confused look.

“It’s a beautiful dress, but you know you can’t wear that right? Rose and dad would have a fit! It’s literally see through!” Sarah whispered to you, Kie laughed rolling her eyes with you.

“Sarah, who cares, if I have to go to an event I don’t want to attend in the first place, I’ll wear whatever the hell I want.” You told her, as the sales woman returned with your dress in hand and began ringing you up.

“Whatever, good luck getting that past Dad.” She sighed in defeat, walking away to wait for you outside.

“I think your boobs will look great!” Kie gave you a thumbs up, backing away to join Sarah.

Truth was you knew it would turn a few heads, everyone’s really, but there was only one head whose attention you wanted even if you weren’t ready to admit it to yourself. The dress was trouble and it was sure to cause a scene, you smiled as you thought to yourself . A scene in the form of a boy named Rafe Cameron.

Midsummer’s 5 years ago

All humiliation aside you were having the time of your life. You were upset at first, being stood up was something you hadn’t ever hoped to experience but every girl has her day. None of that seemed to matter after Rafe rushed to your side ensuring you wouldn’t step through the doors alone. You both were dancing with each other giggling drunk earning the disappointed stares of your parents as Rafe spun you in circles. You stumbled almost falling down if it weren't for Rafe, quickly catching you pulling you to his body. You closed your eyes, inhaling the scent of the sandalwood cologne you gifted him for his birthday. Smiling, you looped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder, trying to remain standing.

“I think someone had a little too much champagne,” Rafe teased, holding you in his arms, your body already starting to fall limp as you began to fall asleep on him, the drool on his tux, as evidence.

“Uhhh-uhhh,” you slurred, forcing your eyes wide open in an attempt to wake up. You looked up at Rafe drunkenly, as he beamed down back at you, amusement evident in his eyes. You giggled sleepily, “I know what could wake me up…?”

On any other night, Rafe would have immediately said no and had taken you home, but he was drunk and high himself, his own judgment lapsed.

“Only a little?”

“Only a little.” You confirmed, pulling him upstairs, ignoring the glares of passing patrons, as you both ran to an unused bathroom on the third floor, hand in hand.

You pulled him in, locking the door behind you as he shook his head at you in an amused disbelief, all while pulling the bag of cocaine from his tux pocket.

“Is this what you want?” Rafe mocked, holding it over your head out of reach, laughing when you began to pout.

You pulled at his tux jacket with both hands pulling him towards you. “Don’t tease me, it’s mean.”

The energy in the air shifted as you both looked at each other in a mix of amusement and adoration. You looked at Rafe, smiling softly at how handsome he looked in his tuxedo. The powder blue tux complimented his eyes in more ways than one, and he simply looked angelic. If Lucifer walked the Earth in disguise, you’d find him in the form of Rafe Cameron. An angel and demon rolled into one. Rafe was always beautiful, but tonight he was the most beautiful boy in all of Midsummer’s in your mind. All the girls wanted him, and he blew them all off to be with you. By your side right where he belongs , you drunkenly thought to yourself, sliding your hands up his shoulders.

Rafe gazed down at you, his chest beaming with pride and love. When he beat the shit out of Alex, threatening him to stand you up he never thought it would lead to this. Rafe had always known he loved you, and that it was anything but brotherly, you two were made for each other and he’d spend a lifetime waiting for you to see that. You just needed time, and Rafe wanted to give you that, but tonight was the night he was gonna make sure you knew how much he loved you.

With Rafe distracted in his thoughts, you had taken the opportunity to reach up to snake the coke bag out of his hands dangling it between your fingers.

“Is this what you want?” You mocked back, giggling at the feeling of his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer to him, adjusting you in between his legs as he leaned slightly back on the counter.

Rafe snatched the bag from your hand feeling bold, lifted you and placed you onto the counter. While moving your hair to the side he held your face in his hand, his lips brushing against your cheekbone and ear as he whispered, “Don’t move.”

You nuzzled your face into his, your lips softly grazing his as you nodded in obedience. You were starting to feel hot, hot from the alcohol, hot from the way Rafe touched you, hot from your own need for him. You didn’t know when the lines of your love for him blurred into something it shouldn’t have, but for the first time, you were aware of it.There wasn’t a single coherent thought capable of forming in your brain at the moment, you just wanted to do whatever he said.

Rafe kissed your collarbone softly, causing your flesh to erupt with goosebumps, pouring the coke onto where his lips had been only moments before. He snorted the coke before licking up the residue, your face heating up in embarrassment as a moan escaped from your throat.

“Your turn.” Rafe smirked, you were speechless as you stared at him as he undid his suit and tie, pulling it off. He grabbed the bag, placing it in your hand, and guided it to his collarbone. “Just do what I did baby, pour some right there.” He signaled to his shoulder, the ring on his finger glinting in the light.

You nodded dumbly, as you clenched your thighs as discreetly as possible, a puddle already forming in your panties, before shakily pouring the contents of the bag onto him. He nodded at you reassuringly as you bent down to snort it, instantly feeling a rush, your head even beginning to clear. Feeling bold, you licked up the residue as he had before pulling back, unsure of where to go from there. You clenched your legs again, which this time did not go unnoticed by Rafe. Your face was flushed with a mixture of need and embarrassment, captivating Rafe. Staring back at each other with heavy breathing and lust filled eyes, neither one of you, willing to make the next move.

Fed up and impatient with the lack of action, you grabbed him by his neck pulling him to you, pausing just centimeters from your lips meeting. Fuck it, you thought before smashing your lips onto his. You couldn’t think, you didn’t want to, all you wanted was to feel him on your skin. You both mauled at each other desperate to feel each other. Rafe wanted to pull back, he wanted to ask you if it was okay, if you were sure but he didn’t want to risk you changing your mind and saying no. The thought of you rejecting him only made him kiss you deeper, like he was trying to consume you.

“I’ve always loved you,” Rafe’s grip on your throat tightened, a slight smile appearing on your face as he placed kisses up and down your neck, “You’re mine, you’ll always be mine.”

“Yours, always.”

Midsummer’s had finally arrived, and your entire body was shaking with anticipation at what the night could bring.

“Stop moving! I’m gonna burn you.” Sarah groaned, annoyed with the way you kept fidgeting nervously in your chair, as she attempted to curl your hair.

“I’m sorry. Nerves, I guess.” You apologized to her reflection in the mirror.

“Nerves, right.” Sarah snorted, before placing the curling iron on to the desk. “I’d be nervous too, if I was about to debut half naked with my family at an event frequented by everyone I grew up with.”

“Actually…..”

Sarah stared back at you in the mirror, eyebrows raised in confusion as your sentence trailed off.

“Actually….. what?”

“Well, the only way I can get away with my dress is not arriving with everyone so…. I’ll be arriving a little later.”

“Okay and what am I supposed to tell your mom? And dad?”

“Wardrobe malfunction, I don’t know. Make something up, you were always the better liar!”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know Rose would drag you by your hair out of your room before she allowed you to show up late!”

“Whatever, just cover for me, please?” You looked back at her through the mirror, your doe eyes wide pleading with Sarah, knowing that she would give into your request.

Sarah nodded her head defeatedly as you gave her a wicked smile. Your gaze moved to the red dress hanging on your door, your stomach filling with anticipation for the night.

You weren’t entirely sure how Sarah managed to convince your family to leave without you, especially with Ward’s borderline intense need to display the family as a perfect one, but nonetheless she came through.

You pulled into the parking lot of the club, drugs already coursing through your veins as you made your way to the venue.

Normally, your nerves would be shot to hell, especially showing up half naked at an event like this, but all of that went out the door the moment you got high. Walking in alone with your head high, and a haughty look on your face, you quickly garnered attention from everyone in the venue.

You didn’t care about what any of them thought though, as you searched for your family through the sea of people. When you finally spotted them, your mothers jaw dropped in embarrassment as Ward’s face grew tight with anger. Sarah and Wheezie both stood there amused with your antics. You searched for the missing Cameron sibling, anticipating his reaction subconsciously the most.

Rafe’s blue eyes met yours, his jaw tense but his eyes blown with lust as he stood with Topper and Kelce off to the side, Mai Tai’s in hand. You raised an eyebrow at him cockily before making your way to the bar, knowing it would only be a matter of time before he would make his way to you. Like clockwork, you felt his body move behind yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“It’s taking everything in me to not drag you to the bathroom upstairs, and rip that poor excuse for a dress off your body.” Internally your stomach fluttered, your body littered with goosebumps as you turned to face him, his eyes lingering on your breasts a little too long.

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you.” You scoffed, flipping your hair, as you grabbed your drink, preparing to walk away.

Rafe grabbed at your wrist, pulling you closer to him, and laughed cockily, “You and I both know you would. I mean it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your face flushed with embarrassment and longing as you remembered the night he was referencing, that night at Midsummer’s where you took each other's virginity, ultimately starting the rabbit hole you both had fallen down together so quickly.

You pulled your wrist out of his grasp, as you saw Ward start to head towards you both.

“Dad’s coming over here, fucking behave for once.” You whispered to him as you both straightened up, putting some distance between you both. Rafe rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his drink scowling at Ward, as he approached you both.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Ward seethed, gripping your wrist, in the same manner as Rafe had only moments ago as he pulled you away from the sea of partygoers. Rafe trailed behind you both, watching Ward unwilling to leave you alone with him.

“Umm.. a dress?”

“Y/N, don’t play dumb. What are you trying to pull here? Are you really that desperate for attention you’d parade around half the town practically naked, looking like a cheap whore? I’d expect this kind of behavior out of Rafe, but not you.”

You looked down out of embarrassment, feeling like a child being chastised, before raising your head high and opening your mouth to speak before Ward cut you off.

“But then again, you’ve been gone for two years. Don’t think I haven’t heard what they’ve been saying about you since you've been back. I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

You held back tears as Ward shook his head in disgust walking away, pushing past Rafe as his expression softened. He knew you were seconds away from crying but were doing your best to hold it in.

“Y/N-“

“Just don’t Rafe. He’s right anyways.” You mumbled as you pushed past him to go upstairs and hide. Tears poured down your face as you took the stairs two out a time, desperate to get away from everyone. Pushing open the first door you saw to hide in, not realizing it was the bathroom. Your heart swelled with grief at the realization only making the tears stream down your face harder as you fell to the floor, your sobs masking the sound of Rafe creeping in and locking the door behind him.

Rafe crouched down next to you, firmly placing his fingers under your chin forcing you to look at him. Sighing as he pulled you into his arms, the fight in you all but gone as you let him hold him.

“You’re not a whore, Y/N, ignore him. I, personally, think you look way hot.” Rafe lightly teased, wanting so desperately to see you smile again the way you used to.

Pulling away to look at him with watery eyes, “It’s not funny. He’s right, you know? I mean look at us, you think this is fucking normal?”

“When did you get so fucking ashamed of me- of us? It never bothered you when I was sneaking into your room every night.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief as his mood changed almost instantly, lighting a fire in you that you spent two years suppressing and attempting to snuff out.

“Are you fucking serious? Do you honestly not remember or do you just not want to remember?”

You searched in his blue eyes for some kind of clue, maybe he genuinely didn’t remember, you thought to yourself, Rafe had been so coked out and drunk all the time that summer. The majority of the summer for him was a blacked out blur. But there it was. It was gone as quick as it came, but not before you saw the guilt flash in his eyes.

“I fucking knew it! You just don’t want to remember!”

You pulled yourself out of his arms and pushed him away from you as you started to hyperventilate, growing more hysterical by the moment. Rafe stood there unable to say anything, he knew this was his fault, that he had broken you and there was no one to blame but himself. His own eyes watering at the sight of seeing so much of his own untempered emotions and instability in you. He knew he fucked up, and he knew he’d gone to far that night. There was literally nothing more in the world he wanted to take back but he knew he couldn’t.

You never could call it rape, you loved him way too much even if you knew it wasn’t right. When he came into your room that night as per usual, you had told him no multiple times. You were tired and just wanted to sleep but Rafe was so coked out of his mind he wouldn’t listen. Instead he held you down, forcing himself into you, and ignoring your cries. What you hated the most was how your body reacted to him, already used to his touch, your mind screamed no but your body said otherwise. Rafe didn’t stop until you came around him three times that night before drunkenly passing out next to you. Your body was littered in bruises as you cried in your bathroom while he occupied your bed asleep. When Rafe awoke to your empty side of the bed, you were already on a ferry off the island.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ignored you when you said no. I’m sorry I hurt you in ways I never thought I could or fuck, even would. There’s nothing I can say to take that back a-and I know that, look, I did a lot of fucked up shit that summer and was really fucked up, but you’re the only one whose ever loved me, Y/N, and I’ve loved you for 10 years. I don’t want to remember because it wasn’t me but it was me even if I was high as fuck and I don’t know how to apologize for what I did. I fucked you up, it’s all my fault, you wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t for me. You wouldn’t be doing coke if it wasn’t for me, I pushed you over the edge and I am so fucking sorry.” Rafe’s own tears began to pour down his face as he manically rambled on, “You don’t have to forgive me, okay, I know I don’t deserve it. Just don’t think a day doesn’t go by where I don’t think of how much I fucked everything up.”

Now it was your turn to stand there unable to speak, but you couldn’t find the words in you. You’d spent two years torturing yourself with whether or not he’d ever take responsibility for it, and honestly you never thought he would. Or maybe you just hoped he didn’t remember, but you did and that was enough to keep you gone. You wanted to yell, to scream at him, to hit him over and over again but you just couldn’t find it in you to be angry anymore.

You both stared at each other unable to speak, until you decided to make the next move. Grabbing his hand to pull him closer to you, you contemplated your next words very carefully.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“Do what? Us?” Rafe asked quietly, his eyes beginning to water at the thought of you walking away from him forever.

“I can’t keep pretending I don’t love you anymore. It’s eating me up Rafe. Even with everything you put me through and two years apart, I still love you, I never stopped even when I wanted to kill myself because of it, i couldn’t.. because I didn’t want to leave you alone. Even when I thought I hated you, I didn’t. I just hated how much I still loved you.”

“And now?”

“I still fucking love you.” You sighed pulling him closer to you until your bodies were only centimeters apart.

You pulled at his pants, kissing his neck before unbuttoning his tux and making your way down his chest, pausing to hear the sound of his heart beat with excitement. He groaned in pleasure when you moved your hand over his dick, palming him through his pants, eventually slipping your hand into the band of his boxers. You nuzzled his neck, leaving little bites on his neck before kissing each one all while slowly pumping his dick in your hand.

Rafe dreamed about touching you again for years, and as much as he wanted to savor it, there would be time for later. He pulled away leaving you confused, but not for long, as he yanked you off the sink and your dress off your body. You giggled as he placed you back on the counter like it was a gold throne, kneeling down, kissing you all the way up the inside of your leg before biting on the flesh of your thigh. He reached for your panties, his dick jumping at the image of the soaked lace as he peeled them off of your body.

Rafe kissed back up your body all the way to your neck, nibbling on your ear making you moan.

“Are you sure?” He whispered, rubbing his dick up and down your folds, you were soaked which caused him to groan at the sight.

“Yes-yes-yes please oh my god yes.” You cried, angling your hips, grinding up and down on him, desperate to feel him fill you up again.

Rafe smiled cockily to himself, pleased to hear you begging for him, sighing at how sweet you sounded. He dreamt to hear you beg for him again, to relish in your moans and cries but nothing could compare to the real thing. He was hooked. As much as he wanted to just shove his dick into you he knew he couldn’t, you needed to be taken care of first. He dropped down to his knees again as you looked down confused as to why he was on the floor.

“What are yo-” Rafe cut you off by licking a strip up your pussy, before diving in and eating you like a man starved.

“You still taste so good. I’ve dreamed about this for two years, baby, this is all mine.” He moaned into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice adding to the pleasure as you slumped backwards onto the mirror, lacing your fingers into his hair pushing him further into you.

“Yes yours,” You moaned, “Yours, always.”

Rafe pushed a finger into you before adding another causing you to wince at the pain of the stretch. Two years without sex had you on the edge faster than ever before. You could tell you were closer with each stroke from his fingers as he pushed in and out of you faster and faster, your legs clamping around his head holding him place. You moaned into the bathroom walls as you came, the butterflies in your stomach hardly satisfied.

You looked down at Rafe to see him staring at you with a smirk while your chest heaved, desperate to catch a breath. His fingers were still in you as he pulled himself up coming face to face with you. You could see your cum all over his face and your pussy clenched at the sight and again when he kissed you so you could taste yourself.

Nothing needed to be said as you both nuzzled into each other, kissing softly, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

Rafe lined his dick up before pushing into you groaning at how tight and wet you were for him. You braced yourself for the pain that came with the stretch, courtesy of his large cock, as he eased into you slowly. It hurt at first but the pain eventually turned to pleasure, with each stroke Rafe gave you. His hands dug into your hips, no doubt leaving hand shaped bruises as he pounded into you like his life depended on it. It wasn’t long before the band in your stomach snapped, your eyes rolled back, and your body filled with bliss as you came again, this time around him.

Rafe swallowed your moans as his thrusts became erratic and choppy, signaling to you he was close. Pulling away from his kiss you placed your forehead on his looking down at where you two were connected again, mesmerized at the way he moved in and out of you.

“I-I love you!” You moaned cumming again , causing Rafe to cum almost immediately at your words, his mouth finding yours. He peppered your face and throat with kisses, your eyes closing at the feeling as Rafe’s hands cradled your throat and face. You open your eyes to stare at him, his blue eyes dark with possession mirroring your own. Rafe searched your eyes for uncertainty and hesitation, for anything that could tell him you were lying but he couldn’t. You were his again.

taglist: @marlene-the-witch @belcalis9503 @hysteriahall @fangirlwithlou @luvmatchamilktea @slutfordrewstark @whorefordrew

[crookedt44th]

JR.3 MARINARA MAGIC | LMH

PAIRINGS ➳ lee minho x gender-neutral reader (cora)

GENRE ➳ friends to lovers ◦ slow burn ◦ heavy angst ◦ horror ◦ psychological thriller ◦ fantasy ◦ slight humor ◦ ghosts ◦ will add more later!

WARNINGS ➳ mental issues (derealization) ◦ memory loss ◦ inappropriate language ◦ suggestive themes, but no smut ◦ death ◦ gore(?) ◦ smoking ◦ lots of drug and alcohol use ◦ cruel society ◦ adult life crisis ◦ bad life decisions ◦ religious themes ◦ class struggles ◦ hallucinations ◦ food mentions ◦ hints of eating disorder ◦ will add more later!

WC ➳ 6,000+

STATUS ➳ Ongoing.

ABOUT ➳ After dropping out of college, Cora returns home to their small town of Stormvillie with the hopes of reconnecting with their friends they left behind and resuming their carefree previous life. However, things have changed since then. Their friends have grown up and changed, and home seems different now. The wind is getting colder and the leaves are falling. As the night gets darker, strange things are happening.

And there's something in the woods.

NIGHT IN THE WOODS SERIES

CHARACTERS AND THEIR STORIES

PREVIOUS JOURNAL

Scott Pilgrim v. My GPA - Mom Jeans. started playing ...

There’s a quiet inside of this open air. It expands and fills, and soon, you’re walking through the thick, tangible quiet. And if you listen, if you really listen, you can hear the pulse of the world, the old hum we almost remember, the old language etched into us. 

It’s a strange thing, to hear the quiet. 

One day, I’ll be quiet forever. 

One day, I’ll exist in the space between words. 

One day, you’ll hear me whispering into the open air, singing something you can almost understand.

I closed my eyes, fantasized about a quiet life. 

Suddenly, I feel at home.

But when I opened my eyes, I started to see shapes. 

I’m somewhere.

Just not here.

It’s hard for me to see exactly where the hell I went wrong

I never thought I’d see the day we wouldn’t get along

You think I smoke too much, I think your friends suck

September 23, 9:34 a.m.

I feel awful. 

I don’t even know what happened yesterday.

DId I do something crazy yesterday? 

With my head still resting on the pillow, I reach beneath the blanket to find my phone. I lifted my head off the pillow and browsed through my lock screen as soon as I did. Many of Jisung's missed messages. 

Did I say some wild shit last night??

[J.0ne] yo das was honestly the most beautiful speech ive ever heard in my entire life

I don’t want to know.

With a grumble, I forced myself to get out of bed in the hopes that taking a shower would help me feel less disgusted. I put on a large, baggy shirt that was sitting on top of my toilet after I finished my shower. I looked in the mirror as I began to wash my teeth. I look like fucking shit.

Hey, don’t be mean to yourself. 

I have the worst face on earth. 

Well, I mean, you look totally awesome in that big old band shirt you totally did not steal from that one little vendor at the mall where an old man just makes the graphic shirt for you. 

I straightened up my posture and placed my hands on my hip, looking at the shape of my body. 

I should lose weight. 

Nah, you look fine. 

No, I don’t. I should really stop eating a lot. 

It’s cool, dude. Not everyone needs to be super duper skinny!

Fine, I should be more positive about myself, whatever the internet says. I am just a real human being. 

My hands slipped off my hips, and I stood there straight, staring blankly at myself. 

And no one can prove that I’m not. 

…

I should read the messages my friends sent me.

After hurrying to my room to find my phone, I nervously went through the messages Jisung had sent me. I texted him back after learning that he hadn't given me many details about what I had done the previous night. 

[C0conut] wat rlly happened last night

[J.0ne] sum beautiful speech that u did in front of lino i dunno i dun rememebaer anythanng

[VanDivision] you called him a cute boy.

[CB97] And then you puked on his shirt again hahaha 

[C0conut] ಠ_ಠ he prob hates me again

[J.0ne] whu CARRRESS plssssss come by chris outlet job stuff work now me me bored here  

I shrugged and let out a breath before tossing my phone onto my bed. I decided to keep this large t-shirt on, find some jorts, and throw on another flannel. Despite the fact that I had lost my other pair of Converse shoes, these fucked up black vans will have to do. My name was called from the kitchen as I sauntered down the stairs. I figured the breakfast was ready. 

“Heya mom, what’re we having today?”

"Hey, sweetie, you look awful!" Mom giggled as she set down a plate with a sandwich and a bowl of soup. "For breakfast, we're eating sandwiches and soups. Plus, you went to a party; I'm not sure how much you drank, but you needed this soup anyway."

"Awesome." I dug in with my spoon and sipped the warm liquid down my throat, feeling relaxed.

"Rough night?" Mom went on, holding up a book to read.

“You know it.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You hummed, “I saw Minho.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“A little bit.”

"Give it some time. He will get to you." She flicked through another page of her book, "I believe most of the repair workers have left the town center. Some shops are still under construction, though."

"Oh really?" Taking a bite out of the sandwich, I said.

"I remember how much you enjoyed climbing some buildings."

"I've thought about doing it again."

"No, sweetie. You should go to jail for that, no?" Mom arched an eyebrow at me. 

“They’ll never catch me!”

“Your aunt will catch you.”

“Boooo.” I dropped the almost eaten sandwich and slouched down. "I'm going to finish this later, mom; I have to go." 

“Alright, well, have fun! Stay safe!”

I quickly grabbed my shoulder bag from the hanger and bolted out the door. I'm getting a little eager for autumn as I stroll down the street and feel the cool morning breeze. I saw some of the local businesses were closed as I passed by them and noticed a group of elderly men gathered around one of the stores.

"There won't be Stormvillie if we don't start doing business right." Says the tall old man dressed in a business suit.

"Well, it appears that we must take whatever action we can." Says a different large, bearded man. "To make the market take note of us!"

Huh, wild. On my left, where I used to go since I was a child, was the closed doughnut shop. A lot of stores are really closing down.

"Will, you're not listening- it's not of sufficient historical note."

"Brother, most folks don't even give a damn about our jobs anymore. Our pay is really low!"

"There must never be another fight at a stop sign."

I left nonetheless, not wanting to listen in on some of the things adults like to talk about, and went past the old pizza place I used to and still enjoy. The pizza place is still open, at least. Perhaps I should bring my buddies here. Maybe with Minho. 

The middle schooler was once more playing on his Nintendo while perched on the seat next to the statue. I looked up at the bronze statue of the man who built this town, the man holding up his axe. The child was still engrossed in the game and was not aware of my presence when I peered down at him.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" I asked, looking down at the child.

"I'm gonna skip." His little fingers hitting the buttons with aggression, his eyes fixed on the game rather than me. 

“Geez.” 

The boy lost the game and groaned out of frustration, “I’ve been going at this game for hours! And I still didn’t get it.”

“What’re you playin’ this time?”

“Star Wars; Battlefront.” 

“Seriously? Star Wars?”

“You don’t like them?” Lori let out a cry and held his palms over his mouth dramatically. “All of my friends are playing the Star Wars games! One of my friends said they’re coming over tonight to play the games with me on my nintendo 64.” 

“I just don’t get the hype.” I shrugged.

“Hmph!” He again folded his arms in a drama queen manner, then rose from his chair and grabbed the skateboard that was next to him. "Hey, you wanna go to the library for a second?" Lori asked, gesturing to the neighborhood library across the street.

I look at him, then at the library, and I start to wonder if I have time left at all. "Sure," I nodded.

"There used to be strange little letters hidden in some of the books. My friend and I would open every book to find more, sort of like on a scavenger hunt!" Lori kept talking while we strolled towards the library. 

“Weird letters?”

“Yeah! Some letters are about odd cult shit or something.” Cult?

Lori wandered the library, trying to find a certain book. I trailed after him to the Bible area, where I watched him leaf through the books, choose one, and hand it to me. I found the letter by grabbing and turning the pages. "I was not made for this kind of test," the paper said in such a hurried handwriting when I unfolded it. “I will fall apart. I will not stay. I will come undone, and you will never see me again."

"This letter is so weird, right?" He chuckled: "I think there's someone in town trying to troll some gullible kids here for fun."

"Could be. Not really remotely close to odd cult shit, whatever you say, but close enough."  I remarked, still staring at how familiar the handwriting was. 

“Lori, did you save the other letters?” I shoved the letter in my pocket. 

“Nope, Mom threw it away. She thought it’s a curse or something.” He shrugged, taking out his nintendo sitting on the table. 

“Bummer. I’ma go now.”

“Bye, killer!”

“Okay, now don’t call me that.”

Can’t figure out the reason why our parents fight so much

But I’ve given up on luck

But I’m happy here

“Yeah, he’s cute but what are his critical thinking abilities? His political stance? Socioeconomic aspirations?”Jisung began talking nonsensically as soon as I entered the store. Chan, dressed in black dress slacks and a white button-up shirt, leaned against the counter and wore an elegant gold watch that his father had most likely given him. Then there's Jisung, the typical punk, decked out in his trademark red and black. Worn-out black leather jacket with a revolution illustration and a few words scattered throughout it, paired with cargo trousers and tall boots. You already know it.

"What is happening here?" Asking, "Are you seeing someone?" I broke up the talk between the two men' talk, who beamed at me.

"What? No way!" Jisung waved his hand in denial. I stared at the blue-haired man one more time after turning to look at Chan for confirmation. He was stifling his laughter. "All right, maybe, but..."

"Who is it, though?"

"All right, so this guy that I've been chatting with online for a few months now has been arranging to meet me here," Again rambling, he leaned on the counter, clasped his hands together, and bowed his head. "Vanna, on the other hand, does not approve of me going on a date with this guy because I did not know what the guy looked like in person. So this motherfucker is setting me up with another guy.”

“Woah, you don’t know what he looks like? Han, don’t you think that’s pretty alarming?” I frowned, “Vanna is right though.”

"Yeah, but he's sweet, a smooth talker, and so caaaring. She's matching me up with someone I'm not supposed to see until we go on the date, which is scary enough than meeting up with a guy I've talked to already!" Jisung turned around swiftly, looking away from us and folding his arm like if he were a cartoon character being betrayed by bunny bugs or something.

"Dude, whatever." I looked over at Chan, who was arranging the pricey, ornate jewelry and watches—some of which were vintage—on the front table. I browsed the store, enjoying how cozy and antique it seemed—like a grandpa's store in London. It seems to make sense that his father owned the store. "Chan, do you know about shops being shut down?"

"Yes," he said, perking up and nodding before returning his attention to organizing. "What about it?"

"Will this store close down as well?"

"Well. Who knows, probably. In any case, my dad does things his own way."

“...”

“...”

"Would you not want to go to, you know, Los Angeles or somewhere else, if you were so rich? Live in a big modern house?" I inquired, unsure whether it was insensitive or not. But he knew I was always curious.

"I wish it was that simple, Cora," laughed Chan.

“Simple? Don’t you have zillions of dollars to be able to do it anyway?”

“Crazy of you to think we have THAT amount of money.” He snorted, shaking his head. 

"I wish I had an answer for you, kiddo. But recently, things have become more complicated." He stooped to pick up the boxes, which he then carried behind the counter and placed on the floor beside numerous other unopened boxes. Jisung gave us both a perplexed look, and I shrugged at him, feeling uncomfortable and guilty for being overly curious. "Well, I apologize for the sudden mood change. You guys wanna get pizza later today when I’m off work?”

“Oh yeah! Good thing that Marinara Magic is still open.” I exclaimed, getting excited at the thought of us getting together to eat pizza like little kids again. 

"Dude, right now I would kill for a pizza!" Jisung leaped to his feet and followed Chan inside the office. I followed them both as well and went inside what appeared to be Chan's father's office, however he seemed to spend more time here than his father. While the worker was busy finishing up tasks and they were busy chatting, I kept myself occupied by wandering around the office and taking in the many framed awards and certificates. A computer was situated atop an extremely cluttered desk, alongside numerous loose work documents and a few images pinned to the wall beneath the desk. The pictures showed him with his sister, his family, and all of us together. When I gazed upon the following picture, Chan, Minho, and Felix were posing at a high school graduation in their gowns. They wrapped each other's shoulders with their arms while grinning broadly. I turned to face Chan, who was rummaging through the drawers. Even if all he did was dye his hair bright red, which turned into an unpleasant pinkish tone, and he gained weight, he still looked very different. Even though he was only 23, he appeared a little older than his actual age. Maybe, he didn’t sleep at all again. 

I looked at the picture once more, focusing on the boy with brunette hair who was standing next to Chan. I would never be able to pretend that Minho wasn't the cutest kid in high school. Everyone was all over him. He was way out of my league. Even though he is much more stylish and handsome now, his face appears really worn. How am I going to face him next time I see him?

Felix, a ginger freckled boy, stands to the right. I couldn't remember when we had last spent time together. A few months after graduating, he stopped playing in our band and became distant from us. Suddenly, he disappeared from our lives. With his long hair, he now had a much more bad boy appearance, according to the missing poster. He had been, always.

"Hey Cora, would you mind checking to see if they have batteries at the grocery store? I need to work on this..." Chan looked at the surveillance cameras he had taken out of the drawer as he gave me the money. "Vanna works there."

"Oh, sick. I guess I should go then." As I was going to leave the store, Jisung yelled, "GET US SNACKS!" as I snatched the money and jammed it in my pocket.

"YA GOT IT!" I yelled in response.

Since the grocery shop was down the street, the walk wouldn't be too far. Across the street was Poppy's Coffee as well. I thought about going to visit Minho, maybe apologize, and ask him to go have pizza with us later. He used to be my best friend, therefore I should really make it up to him, but the thought frightened me.

Vanna wasn't behind the counter when I went inside the store to look for her. I went through the snack aisle and picked some snacks as well as drinks. I swung around to see Vanna standing directly in front of me, staring at me with no emotion.

"Are you trying to find anything?" Dropping the box and restocking the shelves, Vanna asked nonchalantly. 

“You scared me, dude.”

“My bad. Your head’s okay?”

“Oh, yeah, a little.” I rubbed my head. “You got any batteries?”

“Yeah, behind the counter. What type?” She stopped restocking to go to the counter and searched through the variety of different batteries.

“Type? Shit, I dunno. Chan just said he needs some for the camera or something.”

“What kind of camera? Is it a film?”

“Looks more like a security camera.”

Vanna slammed the product on the counter and began scanning the rest of the items. Vanna didn't seem to buzz, but the sudden loud hum coming from the freezer distracted me. 

“Store looks busted.”

“A lot of shit went down this summer. My boss said he’d order for repairs, but I don't see any motherfucker to come fix it and it’s been months.” As she pushed the objects she had completed scanning in my direction, she said. “No plastic bags either. Someone usually has to bring their own big bag. Better for the environment.”

“Cool.” We both stood silently, just staring at each other.

“So..”

“I didn’t mean anything I’ve said yesterday.”

“It’s cool. I barely remember half of it, honestly.”

“Yeah, me neither. You really need to chill when it comes to drinking.”

“Was it really bad?” I tried not to watch the memory again in my mind as I shamefully rubbed my head.

“Everyone forgot it. I’m sure Minho finds it funny now.” Vanna said as she scrolled on her phone.

I hit my head on the counter and moaned. I'm worried about what Minho thinks of me now, more than whether there's an image somewhere of me getting wasted.

"Do you hate Minho or something?" Sincerely curious, I inquired, recalling vaguely what Vanna had said about him the previous evening.

“No, I was just upset. Just wanted to bring someone up to blame. I should learn not to.” 

“Hm. You wanna go for a pizza with us? Jisung, Chan, maybe Minho.”

“I’m still working.” Vanna looked up from her phone, furrowing her eyebrow.

“Like later.”

“Sure.” 

“Sick.”

“...”

“I should stop by Minho’s work…”

“Good luck, man.” 

So leave my sweater on the porch 

I’ll leave your bag under the stairs

Don’t go back to our old place

It’s probably locked up anyway

I crossed the street tensely, imagining what I should say or how I should apologize as I made my way to Poppy's Coffee. Hesitantly, I paused in front of the store entrance, debating whether or not to go inside or simply walk out and travel to space, never to return. Someone from inside the store opened the door before I could even extend my hand, revealing Minho. His lovely reddish-brown hair and honey complexion glistened in the sun's rays. He gave me a radiant smile.

"Cora! I was just wondering if you were okay." With a broad smile, he flashed his bunny teeth. "I kind of ran to open it for you after seeing you standing there for a minute. You know, you just gotta be a gentleman. Come inside, Co!" Minho laughed as he greeted you with a smile at the rustic coffee shop. The room had a pleasant aroma of roast coffee, antique, charming vintage tables and chairs, and a lot of fairy lights hanging from the ceiling. Since I left, the shop's entire style has evolved. He obviously decorated it, as I could tell. "Oh, and you still enjoy mocha, correct? I can do it right now!" His excitement and sudden outburst of energy reveal a new aspect of him that makes my eyes widen in disbelief.

"What's up with you?" Watching him run in circles and start preparing coffee for me, I blurted out.

"I'm just happy to see you back home," Minho smiled at me, really sweet, and then gathered everything to make coffee on the counter.

“I don’t have any money, dude.”

“On the house!”

“Free drink.. Sick..” I found a table and sat down, observing him prepare a drink. With his small watch on his wrist and a brown apron on top, he had his sweater sleeves rolled up. Now that his hair was groomed, his entire face was visible to me. I completely understand why so many girls were over him. It makes sense that he has a girlfriend. Oh, right.

"I apologize for last night." I looked down, embarrassed, trying to scrape the skin off my arm. And a little disappointed that he actually had a girlfriend.

“Oh, that’s no problem! You were just.. being you again.” With a giggle, he looked up at me and flashed his rabbit teeth once more. "You don't have to buy me a new shirt, by the way. I could easily wash it."

"Well, yeah, I know. I've puked on you twice already, it's ridiculous." I laughed along with him.

"Your hot mocha is here! It's getting chilly outside, and see, I drew you a cat!" Minho approached my table gingerly and set the mug down carefully, revealing a white kitten sketched in cream. Still grinning and gazing at me, he took a seat in front of me as well. I was able to get a closer, clearer look at him. He looked very tired, but his cute big smile topped it off. 

“Since when do you know how to do this?” 

“My mom taught me when I started working. It’s kinda therapeutic actually.” He giggled once again. “God, I’m so giggly today. Maybe, you’re finally here with me again like the good old times.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” I took a sip of the hot mocha and realized it was the best drink I had ever had. "I had a brownie with my coffee the last time I drank it in college, and it tastes really bitter."

Minho snorted, "Obviously, chocolate tastes much sweeter than coffee itself. Of course it will taste bitter."

“I miss Felix’s brownies.” 

“Right, Felix. Do you know about it?”

“Yeah, I always wonder why he left.”

“You think he left? Not like being kidnapped or something?”

“Do you think he was kidnapped?”

With a sigh, he palmed his face and rested his elbow on the table. "Just a hunch on my part. To be honest, nobody in the town seemed to be making any effort to find him. Chan and his family may have tried, but they got nothing."

"Why did you stop talking to Chan and Han?"

"Well, it was a bit complicated." Minho tightened, straightened his back, and gave me a sincere look. "Listen—I am deeply sorry for how I treated you when you told me you were going to college about two years ago."

“Hey, it’s all chill, dude.” 

“No, it’s obviously not. I know you were drunk last night, but everything you said, I’ve thought about it a lot since.” 

“I was just out of my mind. I don’t even remember half of it. Vanna even told me I called you cute, so that’s awkward ‘cause y’know you have a girlfriend and all.” I blurted it out, sulking, and nodding till I turned to face him, who appeared confused.

“...”

“...”

“What?”

“I don’t.. have one?” His head was cocked in confusion at me.

“Dude, that girl at the party, y’know-”

“Pretty sure she’s a lesbian.”

“Oh.”

“I kinda had to dip when she started making out with that girl which lasted for like a long minute.”

“Ooh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oooh.”

“Mhm.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s good.”

“Have you ever had one?”

“Why?”

I scowled at him as I sagged into my chair and folded my arms. "Well, have you seen yourself?" I asked.

"I'm not really chasing it." He was moving a little stiffly, suddenly tense.

"Yes, whatever, boo, tomato," I said.

"Someone has been on my mind for a very long time, and still is." In the end, Minho said, "Just not ready to tell them."

"Oh." I forced myself not to get emotional as I imagined Minho to have feelings for someone who is completely unlike me. "Whatever, do you want to join me, Han, Chan, and Vanna for pizza?"

"Oh? I'll see if I can stop by, but I'm kind of busy all day." Minho smiled.

"Well, I missed us all together."

"I know, sorry, I've been busy a lot lately." The bell at the door rings, announcing that the customers have arrived. He let out a sigh and rose from his chair, eager to resume his job. "I have to go right now. I'll try to see and come by, okay?" Minho smiled at you one last time before returning to his job.

I nodded slowly and watched him as he began to take orders and put back his apron. I got up from my seat and exited the store, expecting to meet him later. 

I bet it still looks the same as when I ran away that day

Everyone was at the Marinara Magic eating pizza and sides and sitting and talking to one another. The realization that the two years I had been waiting for was finally here nearly took my breath away. Even though Chan was trying to talk them out of being too loud and scared that the staff could kick us out, Jisung was being playful as usual with Vanna and they were fighting over pizza toppings. But I was disappointed that Minho wasn't here yet. It appears that the kids are still not on good terms with him. For the last twenty minutes, all I could look at was the front entrance. While Jisung was still yapping and Chan was on his phone, Vanna appeared to notice but chose not to speak out.

Maybe, it’ll be too awkward if he comes.

The pizza place looked precisely the same as it did when I left. The red checkered tablecloth, slightly worn-out wooden seats, leon signs, and several framed pictures of former employees and musicians who had dinner here. The owner, who had been employed there since the 1990s and was now essentially a grandfather, ultimately left due to the death of his son. Unlike most soldiers, who return home to surprise their families, his son arrived in a box. He was "at fault" for electing to join the army of his own free will, but no one believed it was all lies and propaganda. The brutal reality of the American dream was that. You either achieve everything successfully or lose everything. 

Although it didn't taste as good as it used to, it was still better than the pizza I had in the city. Even yet, I feel like throwing up when I eat pizza. I fidgeted as I started to finish the drink in the red glass, wondering when Minho would arrive. Would he even show up at all? Does he even care?

Vanna moved to get closer to me and said in a whisper, "Are you waiting for Minho?"

"Yeah." I glanced at the boys to see if they heard us, but they were still too engaged to respond. "Do you think this would make them hate me?"

"No, they were hoping to speak with him, but that jerk decided not to. That's what I think." With a shrug, Vanna settled back into her chair and took her notebook out of her leather purse. 

“He confuses me sometimes.”

“Are you really confused or just frustrated?”

“I guess, both.” I sighed. 

“A friend,” She quoted, “shouldn’t make you that frustrated, let’s be real.”

“I guess.. I mean, I know he has some rough family issues, that’s all. I don’t know if there’s anything else.”

“You didn’t at least try to talk to him earlier?” 

“I did try!” I pouted, sinking down in my seat. “He’s just.. being complicated.”

“What did he say?”

“I dunno.. Like he was being overly nice and then it got awkward when you know, I asked about his girlfriend which I thought he does have, but he doesn’t and he still hasn’t told me what really happened–”

Vanna groaned, putting her hands on her head. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one being complicated.”

“Okay, well–” Just as I was about to defend myself, I felt a bit offended.

"Vanna's not wrong here, kid." Chan said, still deeply absorbed in his phone.

"I am not a kid!" I yelled at him inaudibly. "He's just making things more complicated,"

"You TWO are being so complicated and annoying!" Jisung also yelled as he pointed jokingly at me with his finger.

"Holy shit-" Vanna places her fingers on her nose's bridge.

"What is happening here?" When someone else's voice was heard, the yelling stopped. There was no way I could pretend that seeing him didn't make me nearly puke again.

"Awkward…" Vanna rolled her eyes and sang.

"We ate the entire pizza!" With a wide smile, Jisung resumed his random hand gestures.

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a slice.” Chan took out his card and stood up.

“No, it’s good, I can just–”

“Shut up and let me buy you one, man.”

“I know, but-”

“Dude, c’mon, we haven’t talked in a while-”

“I’m the one that should make up-”

“No–”

Everyone else at the table chuckled at their interaction as I smacked my head against the table.

It doesn’t matter anyway

‘Cause I’m happy here

"That pizza was gooood, ay?" As he put his arm around Minho, Chan laughed. By now it had gotten late, so everyone left Marinara Magic together to walk home. The staff seemed to already like Chan enough to not throw us out, so I'm amazed they put up with us.  

"But not as good as it was before. I could make it better at home!" Minho replied as Vanna and I just kept strolling down the street in silence as the boys laughed and chatted about how much they used to miss his cooking. I couldn't help but feel uneasy tension when I was around Minho, even though it felt great to have him back in the group like we did in high school. At least, we were all back to normal again. Nothing bad will definitely happen!

I was taken aback by what I had just seen on the pavement and froze in place. An arm mutilated, with blood dripping from the tip. I turned back to give the kids a warning since they were all standing in a circle and talking nonstop, much as when family get together and chat for hours at a time. "There's an arm, guys!" I yelled out and ran to the tree to get a stick, then I walked back to where the arm was and attempted to poke it. The group approached it with caution and began to swear loudly as soon as they saw it.

"Why are you poking it?" Like everyone else, Jisung coughed in disgust and yelled silently.

"It's too much to look at." Vanna stopped staring at it and poked her tongue out.

"How did that end up there? Has there been a murder? That shit barely happens here since like that one incident in 1990," Minho inquired.

"Was that not in 1983?" Chan folded his arm and scowled at Minho.

"No fucker, that's the bite of '83 you're thinking of; it's definitely before 1990." As I was prodding the arm, I snorted, and Jisung burst out laughing and slapped his thigh.

"Sorry, the what?"

"Game reference." Minho stated while awkwardly scratching his head.

Chan said, "He's really back," shaking his head.

“Oh, shut it.”

"Are we going to do shit about this or not? This kid is messing with it." Vanna spoke out.

"Dude, get up." The lighting flashed on us as Chan attempted to grip my shoulder, and I realized who it was as I got up.

"What's going on over here?" My aunt was standing there in her uniform, staring at us expressionlessly.

"A arm!" I gave my aunt a smile and gestured to where it was. She bowed, glanced down, examined the arm, and reported what had transpired using her talkie-walkie.

"You kids need to go home. We will take care of it."

"But-"

"Go. Home." Aunt gave me a scowl. 

I kept glancing back, wondering what the whole "arm" thing was about, but Minho kept trying to pull me out of it and finally we walked home together. Since their routes to their homes differed from mine, half of the group bid goodbye and parted ways. Since Minho and I live in the same neighborhood, we strolled home in silence.

"Wow, that was crazy." He let out another quiet laugh to break the ice. 

"Yeah." Still feeling a little uneasy, I laughed too. When we arrived at my house, I was about to say goodbye, when Minho grabbed my wrist. I was shocked as I looked down and wondered what he was going to say.

"Hey, listen, uhm," The taller one went on, "If you want, we can hang out this weekend?"

I nodded despite standing there taking in what he had told me. 

"Alright, cool. So, see you then?" Minho smiled at me, and I smiled back. We kept looking at one other, and neither of us wanted to break eye contact. I finally hurried to my house and entered, blushing slightly. Is it a date? Nah, nah, you’re crazy. It’s totally not. 

I began to search around my living room for my dad, but figured that since it's becoming late, they might be asleep. I mentally noted that I will talk to him more before he leaves for work tomorrow morning when I woke up. After walking the flight of stairs to my room, I completed my night routine and was soon ready for bed. As I lay in bed tonight, I pondered how quickly today went from being just normal to not so normal. Since I had nothing planned for tomorrow, I thought I should stay home and perhaps look up old strange incidents that occurred in my town a long time ago on the internet. It's been a while since I last hunted a ghost. I should do it again. 

I should just go to sleep.

I sleep well alone now

NEXT JOURNAL ON SEPTEMBER 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➳ this one is kinda rushed but i hope u still enjoy it! make sure u read the warnings before u read each chapter bc i update it every chapter :p

TAGLIST ➳ @estella-novella @melanctton

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[waiting4smthn2happen]

ESME / Psych. Thriller (~1600 words)

AUTHORS NOTE: i am very very new to formatting and posting on tumblr so all tips are appreciated!

TW: strong themes of suicide, manslaughter, derealization

=====

I dream of her. Every night, as my eyes flutter shut and I drift off to sleep, I awake in my dreams with her honey-blonde hair bunched in my palm and her glossy hazel gaze softly resting on my lips. At first, I wonder why she’s looking at my lips but then I realize that she’s watching them quiver as the air flows out through them. She must know I’m a mouth-breather. In return I admire how the ray of sunlight gleaming through the window shines on her cheek and how it causes her to slightly squint her left eye. I almost want to say something– to interrupt the silence– but I opt to scan the room around me instead.

I find myself in a hospital bed, surrounded by hastily painted off-white walls and framed prints of orchids. There’s an IV uncomfortably lodged in the crook of my elbow and HGTV is playing on the tiny television mounted on the wall in front of me. I lose myself in the obnoxious narrative for a few moments, as if an outside force was trying to distract me from my observations. A soft sigh to the left of me breaks my focus on the TV. I look to the source of the noise in mild surprise, almost forgetting that I am not alone. I lock eyes with the blonde and think to myself, why am I in the hospital? As I open my mouth to ask her, she shushes me with a smile. I flinch and suddenly, I find myself sitting at a kitchen table. 

It’s the evening, as shown by the moon’s presence in the night sky, visible through the white french doors that lead to the expansive backyard. I divert my gaze to the kitchen island, where the same honey-blonde haired woman is cutting vegetables. She looks up at me with a grin, then diverts her gaze back down to the cutting board.

“Something on your mind, darling?” She asks me.

I don’t answer. I stare at her in confusion, though I can’t remember exactly why I’m confused. I have a subtle feeling that I was just somewhere else, but a much stronger, almost overwhelming feeling tells me that I’ve always been here. I reflexively check my wristwatch for the time– 7:12pm. It’s dinner time, like usual. That’s right— we do this every day. Nothing is wrong.

Still awaiting my answer, she pauses the dinner preparations and walks behind me. She wraps her arms around my neck and plants a kiss on my cheek.

“We can order a pizza if you’re not in the mood for this salad,” She whispers softly into my ear.

I smile at her. “Nah, I’ll eat the salad. I’m just feeling a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Alright, if you say so,” She mutters after affectionately tucking a loc of hair behind my ear.

She removes her arms from my neck and resumes cutting vegetables. I adjust my collar where her touch lingers and notice that I’m now in a cold sweat. I nervously dart my eyes to her cutting the vegetables and am instead shocked by the sight of her lifeless body sprawled out on the counter. Blood pools around her head and drips off the counter and onto the floor. I sit idly in my chair, processing, while the pitter-patter of the blood hitting the floor comes to a crescendo in my ears. I finally take action by throwing myself out of my seat in a feeble attempt to escape, but as I turn around I am met with a blunt object to my temple. My vision fades to black.

“Do you regret what you did?” A voice whispers.

My eyelids flutter as I come to consciousness. I shift my head from one shoulder to the other and become aware of the throbbing pain in my right temple. I make an attempt to reach at the wound, but I find that my hands are bound behind me. I am seemingly tied to a chair in a pitch black room. My breath catches in my throat and a chill runs down my spine. A plague of goosebumps conquers my body, causing me to shiver and gasp, desperately trying to catch a full breath of air. It’s a meaningless attempt– panic leaves my lungs at half capacity and my head too heavy to comfortably hold upright. I try to scream for help, but the only thing I can let out are wheezes, almost as if I’m being suffocated.

“Or would you do it again?” The voice spits at me. 

I woke up with a jolt. In a panic, I throw myself out of bed and run to my mirror— I see nothing but myself in the reflection. I clear my throat and run my hands through my hair. I examine the bed— it’s empty. I must have had a nightmare. I let out a heavy sigh and sit back down. “What the hell,” I mumble strings of curses to myself. Will I ever get over this? Am I going to be tortured forever? I adjust the sheets and blankets on my bed and head downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water. I make a point of not looking at the newspaper clippings on the fridge. I’ll never forget, but I’ll avoid reminders like they’re the plague. 

I haven’t driven in three weeks. I haven’t left my house in three weeks. I haven’t talked to any real living person in three weeks. I am afraid to check the front of my car. I know that in the eyes of many people I am considered lucky, but when I look in the mirror, I see a criminal. Guilt has complete control over my life.

I killed her. I killed her and I got away with it.

---

I’ve always hated country roads. They’re windy, there’s barely enough space for two cars, and at dark, it’s impossible to see anything. In order to go visit my grandmother, though, they’re an unavoidable obstacle. 

I was on the way back home from Grandma’s when it happened. It was almost midnight, and the sky was a pitch black blanket sprinkled with stars. I remember that my truck was running low on gas, so I was in a bit of a hurry. In my rush, I wasn’t observant– I didn’t see her. All I felt was the sickening thump of her hitting the front of my car and rolling under my wheels. 

I quickly looked behind me, catching a glimpse of golden hair on the road, illuminated by my backlights. “Holy shit. Holy shit,” I say, slamming my foot on the acceleration. I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know why I sped away. But I did. I did and I can’t ever take that back.  

That’s as much as I can remember. Shock erased most of my memories from the event, but I know that the next day I saw her on the news. The second her face popped up on the screen I went to vomit into my kitchen sink. Through the throbbing in my ears I hear the newscaster declare a name— Esme. Her name was Esme. 

“Autopsy reports say that the impact of her skull to the concrete caused her jaw to dislodge and break, which obstructed her breathing. She ultimately died from suffocation.” 

I hear something thwack against my front door. Wiping my mouth on my sleeve, I go to open the front door. Nobody was there but a newspaper laid at my feet. I pick it up and examine the issue. On the front page was, unsurprisingly, a large picture of Esme. “Twenty-three year old woman killed in hit and run”, the caption said. I ripped out the article from the paper and stuck it with a magnet to my fridge.

Today I threw the newspaper clipping of her death in the trash. I also checked the front of my car. A splotch of blood that clearly looked like that of an impact into a human being stained my car. I ignored it and entered my car anyway. 

For the past three weeks, I wondered how this day would go. I didn’t have a plan or a date or a note or anything. All I had was my guilt on my back and a clouded mind. I knew I had to confront the consequences of my actions. The memories of that night will likely torment me forever, pushing me further to the edge of insanity.

I ventured out into the night. The familiar country roads, once a source of dread, now called to me. As the car roared to life, the path ahead of me seemed bright and full of hope– like a path to freedom. 

I drove the half hour towards Grandma’s, aiming for the area right where it happened. When I arrived, my eyes met with a gnarled tree. Driven by an external force, I accelerated. The collision erupted into a beautiful pit of flames and scrap metal, exploding a symphony of booms and screeches into the sky.

Trapped within the wreckage, fire licked my skin and glass from the windshield pierced my body. Pain seared through me, and my mind and heart let out a scream. As my consciousness slipped away, the shimmering image of Esme’s golden hair on the pavement lingered. The crash was no longer just metal against wood; it was the collision of my past and present.

In that moment, the country roads became the final destination that my guilt took me– the final destination of that which is my life. I had finally found my freedom– freedom in the arms of death.

[yourmidnightlover]

comfort blurb request??? maybe Spencer is just taking the absolute most care for you and making sure you’re okay after a hard case

cw: case mentions, mention of abusive and neglectful parents, unsub dies, crying, kind of a breakdown by the reader, spencer being a very nice little bean. *please let me know if ive missed anything*

a/n: so this turned out far longer than i anticipated but i love it nonetheless. thank you for the request, love <3

you were attached.

you couldn’t help it either.

spencer could tell

as you looked at the unsub from around the corner with a sense of sympathy, he recognized a part of himself on similar cases. when an unsub was schizophrenic, or when an unsub had been bullied, or when they had a drug problem that had been forced on them.

but for you, he couldn’t tell why you sympathized with this unsub. they’ve worked cases with unsubs just like this one - while all unsubs are different, their backgrounds tend to meld together on occasion.

in this situation it was abusive parents that would neglect them, no siblings, no grandparents or aunts or uncles to turn to… they were alone and were forced to cope with their own insanity. this unsub… he had nowhere to turn for his own depression and anxiety and he had to cope in some sort of way. he just chose to do that by killing.

now, on the jet ride back home, with 1 hour left, spencer walked over to sit beside you on the couch. for the duration of the ride, you hadn’t been talking. you hadn’t been reading. you were just sitting there in silence, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

the unsub had been shot. he was breaking down. he was going to shoot you. you would’ve let him. hotch took the shot that you couldn’t take. you were angry with him at first. you clutched his shirt in your hands, yet hotch didn’t care. he held onto your shoulders and looked at you with that same look of sympathy you had for the unsub. he hugged your shoulders as you cried into his vest.

“he didn’t deserve that!” you sobbed into his vest. “he just wanted to be okay…”

“i know,” hotch stroked your shoulders, soothing you until spencer walked over.

he took your hands from his shirt and wrapped them around spencer, knowing you’d want your best friend’s shoulder to cry on instead of your boss’s. spencer looked at hotch with a look of confusion, clearly not knowing why she was so upset.

“ask,” he informed spencer, patting his shoulder before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

he practically carried you to the car. you were barely strong enough to keep yourself from tripping over your feet. spencer was your crutch, and that’s how he liked it. you had spent so long putting up this strong front for everyone, it only took one case for it to finally wear down the last of your walls.

“how about we have a sleepover when we get back?” spencer asked, finally breaking you from your trance as you turned to face him sitting beside you on the couch.

you didn’t say anything. you merely nodded and rested your head on his shoulder, trying to conceal the tears that had continued to flow from his gesture of kindness. he wrapped his arms around you and laid down on the couch, allowing you to rest on his chest for the duration of the ride. he knew you weren’t asleep. but perhaps a little piece of your mind was able to stop racing around because of his presence.

everyone saw it go down. but they didn’t say anything. it was obvious the two of you were closer than friends. the way you would put each other before anything, the way you would both simply look at each other. you always hung out after work when you were able to. you would have sleepovers with one another. you would do each other’s work. you would eat lunch together. you would get coffee together… you get the gist.

so seeing him comfort you so tenderly after the breakdown you had… it felt warm. although, derek didn’t hesitate snapping a picture of the way you cuddled into spencer’s chest, his eyes closed with content so he could send it to his babygirl later.

once you got off the jet, hotch dismissed everyone home for two days, something about getting some well needed rest and rehabilitation.

spencer began to drive your car to your place, thinking you’d want to be in the comfort of your own apartment. once you saw him make the turn towards your place rather than his own, you reached across the console and grasped his arm.

“what?” he asked with a questioning tone.

you shook your head, “i don’t wanna go to my place,” you continued to shake your head rapidly as he pulled the car over.

“hey, hey,” he placed his hand on the sides of your face to ground you. “we’ll go to mine, alright? whatever you need, we’ll get you,” you finally nodded your head before spencer reached over and kissed your forehead.

so, he took you to his apartment. he wanted you to feel safe, and if going to his place would provide that, then he would supply. he insisted on carrying your bags so you could walk on your own, so you did. but the second you were inside, he dropped the bags by the couch and wrapped you in his arms once more.

“go lie down on my bed, alright?” he whispered in your ear. “i’ll order us takeout and get you some tea. you get comfortable.”

you nodded and kissed the side of his neck before he released you, his hand lingering on your waist as you began walking down the hallway. his eyes lingered on your figure as you walked away, your arms wrapped around yourself as you entered his room.

he sighed before turning back to make your tea. perhaps chamomile would help you relax. he picked up the phone while the water was boiling and ordered you your favorite takeout. after the order was placed, he poured the boiling water into a mug with the tea bag and a dash of honey for sweetness.

“hey, bug,” he called as he entered the room. you were sitting on the edge of the bed, arms still wrapped around yourself in a self-soothing manner as he sat beside you. “here’s your tea, and the food should be here in around 20 more minutes.”

“okay,” you sighed as you took the cup from him, taking a sip. “thank you - for everything.”

“you don’t need to thank me,” he told you. “i’m happy to make sure my best friend knows she’s cared for.”

“no, i need to thank you,” you sniffled. “it’s not very often that i actually need to be taken care of, and i’m just not used to it. i’ve spent most of my life caring for myself and others and… and i really needed this - needed you,” you placed your free hand on top of his and gently squeezed it.

“i would take care of you forever,” he whispered, the look in his eyes telling you that he meant every word.

“i love you.”

“i love you.”

you both said in unison.

spencer’s eyes searched yours for the same meaning his portrayed - yours secretly doing the same.

“i’m in love with you,” you sniffled. “i have been for a while,” you shrugged.

“i am too - in love with you,” he smiled. “i’m so in love with you it hurts. when i saw you crying, i… i wanted to take it all on myself. you don’t deserve to hurt. you’re the one person who actually cares about people and takes care of them with no expectations.”

“thank you,” you grinned. “i know you want to know why i was so upset tonight, but…”

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you aren’t ready,” his hand gently squeezed your thigh.

knock. knock. knock

spencer rose from his seat on the bed and retrieved the food. he returned to see you scooted up to one side of the bed - the side you always slept on during your sleepovers. your tea was sat down on the bedside table and your legs in criss-cross applesauce position.

“hey,” he knocked on the door so he wouldn’t startle you.

“hey,” you smiled as he climbed in bed beside you.

he began passing out the food, and you ate in silence. it was a comfortable silence, one that the two of you had become accustomed to. your arms would accidentally touch, causing the both of you to blush and smile like idiots at the other.

once you were finished, spencer cleaned up the food and you went to brush your teeth, him doing the same after you. upon his return, you were already in your night clothes - a large t-shirt and some shorts you’ve had for ages. your makeup was removed and your hair was in a messy bun at the bottom of your head.

“you’re beautiful,” spencer couldn’t help but speak as he went to change his clothes.

“so are you,” you spoke up quietly. “i don’t think people tell you that often enough.”

“i’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he chuckled as he grabbed a pair of old sweatpants to change into. he came back in an immediately cuddled up next to you in bed. “how do you wanna cuddle? or do you even want to cuddle?”

“is that even a question? of course i wanna cuddle,” you scoffed as you took his right arm and began snuggling with it, your fingers intertwined with his, your head rested on his chest as his free hand was tracing circles on your waist. “i love you so much, spencer.”

“i love you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“say it again, please,” he felt his skin begin to dampen where your eyes were.

“i love you,” he moved his free hand to stroke your hair.

“again, please,” you sniffled.

“i love you, y/n,” he whispered. “i love you so much,” he continued. “i love your kindness. i love your spirit. i love your generosity. i love your humility. i love everything about you. i will always love you,” pressing one more kiss to your forehead, he heard your steady breaths and knew you had finally fallen asleep.

and in that moment, with you clutching his arm as you snored softly, he knew that he’d never let you go.

[queerminalminds]

10th doctor x male reader

10 | doctor?

a/n: this is a part 2 to "pet names and cuddles"

y/n: your name

y/n's pov

i shuffle a little in bed, just waking up i move my leg and it hits something. i perk up a little and see there's another figure in my bed. i freak out a little but realize it's the doctor and i smile.

he's still asleep. i thought. i lean over to see his peaceful face while sleeping. he's so beautiful. his breathing is evenly paced, my arm is around his chest and i can feel both of his hearts beating proudly. i mess with his hair a little, trying not to wake him. i decide to get up and get dressed, then realizing i was in the doctor's room, not mine.

i quietly leave the room, giving the doctor a final look before heading to my room. i go and get dressed and head to to the kitchen located down the hall from the doctor and i's room. i get out bowls and pans, i decided that i was gonna make the doctor some eggs, beans and toast. a generic scottish breakfast. since this regeneration is scottish.

it takes about 20 minutes to make all together, i hope the doctor isn't up yet. i put everything on a big plate and bring some juice along with it. i walk slowly to the doctor's room, trying not to drop everything. i enter and see him shuffle in the bed, good timing he's just now waking up. i stand there, not wanting to scare him. he sits up and runs his eyes then looks up at me.

"oh y/n."

"hi doctor, i brought you some breakfast. im not really that good at cooking though." i handed him the plate along with the juice.

"y/n, you didn't need to do this for me." he says as he looks down at the food.

"i like spoiling you, i just felt like giving you breakfast in bed today." i reply and sit down next to him.

"what is this stuff?" he asks.

"it's a generic scottish breakfast, eggs, toast and beans." i explain.

"what's scottish?" he tilts his head and i laugh.

"it's the accent you have silly." i giggle.

"yes, right that. sorry i was blanking out a little." he shakes his head a little and runs a hand through his messy hair. i stare at him with a concerned look.

"doctor are you alright?" i ask and he doesn't reply, in fact he doesn't even look up from his food.

"babe?" i whisper, you can hear the concern in my voice. he finally looks up.

"huh?" he says.

"are you sure you're alright? you didn't answer me when i said your name." i put my hand on his shoulder and he leans his head down to rub against my hand.

"you said babe and i answered you though?" he tilts his head again.

"no your real name, doctor." i say.

"right yeah that's my name doctor?" he asks.

"ok somethings definitely wrong with you." i say as i put my hand up against his forehead. his forehead seemed kind of warm and i frowned and stood up and left the room.

"y/n where are you going?" he asks as i leave, i don't answer him and i walk up the stairs to the tardis console.

"god i wish you could speak tardis." i said as my hand ran along the console.

"somethings wrong with the doctor, he doesn't even remember his own name. he only responds to pet names i give him." i ramble to the tardis, knowing i won't get an answer in return. suddenly i heard the tardis wheeze and the tardis shook, like we were moving.

the tardis eventually stopped and i walked towards the door, a bit scared on what i will find. i open the door and we are outside of an apartment complex. i took in my surroundings and saw a blonde girl running towards me. i shut the door so she couldn't see inside.

"no way! how? how can he be back? doctor?" she asked me and i looked at her in disbelief.

"uh im not a doctor sorry." i say nervously and scratch my head.

"but this is the tardis. are you the doctor's new companion?" she asked, she seemed to know a lot about the doctor.

"how do you so much about the doctor?" i asked.

"im rose tyler, i was the doctor's companion once. but how did you get here? this is an alternative earth. it's almost impossible to get here." she explains.

"oh yeah he's talked to me about you." i say and she smiles.

"really? it's been years for me since i've seen the doctor."

"hey rose!" a familiar voice calls out from behind her. she turns around and i see him, the doctor, but it wasn't him. he was wearing different clothes. not his usual attire, otherwise he looks the exact same.

"doctor?" i ask and stare at him.

"who are you?" he asks and he grabs rose's hand.

"i-im y/n." i introduce my self and i shake his hand.

"nice to meet you y/n." he says and smiles, god that smile, the same.

"how-" i start and rose cuts me off.

"long story but he isn't your doctor. he has 1 heart, he's human." she explained and i nodded trying to follow along.

"why are you here anyways? and where's the doctor?" she asked and my mood went from confused to upset.

"im not sure, the tardis took us here all by herself." i replied shrugging.

"but there's um, something wrong with him. he doesn't remember his own name. but i, i call him by pet names and he responds with those but not his own name." i explained and rose giggled a bit.

"let's see if we can help shall we?" the other doctor asks leading us to the door of the tardis. i open the door and we all enter.

we head back down to his room and i tell them to say outside so he doesn't get freaked out by seeing himself and rose. he told me that he loved rose and it still has me jealous.

"hey handsome?" i say in more of a question and he turns around from whatever he's doing and smiles and runs over to me.

"y/n!" he exclaims and embraces me tightly. i smile and look behind me, seeing rose just giving me a wink and a thumbs up, rolling my eyes i look back to the doctor.

"you still feeling okay?" i ask and he nods.

"never been better? who's with you?" he looks around me and his eyes widen.

"ive seen you before haven't i!" he says and points at rose.

"it's me doctor. it's rose." she says softly and walks towards the doctor.

"i-i don't know a rose..." the doctor stutters and backs up a little towards his bed. rose stops heading towards him and backs up towards her human doctor.

"y/n- why does that guy look like me?" he breathes heavily and i sit down on his bed and force him to sit. i put my hand against his chest to feel both of his hearts beating way too fast.

"he's like your doppelgänger baby, it's fine." i explain and i feel his hearts beat slow down and he sighs loudly.

"y/n, now i do feel kind of weird. my head feels all fuzzy." he says quietly so the other doctor and rose can't hear.

i curse quietly at myself and stand up and pace around the room, fingers yanking at my hair.

"y/n come here for a second." rose says and i stomp over to her.

"sorry im not mad at you, just myself." i apologize.

"not your fault. when did this thing all start?" she asks.

"earlier this morning, i made him breakfast in bed." i answer.

"what did you make him?"

"eggs, toast and beans." i say and rose and the other doctor look at each other.

"beans are evil. i don't like beans." the doctor says and that confuses me.

"beans are sometimes bad yeah but is something wrong with them?"

"why did he eat the beans?" rose asks quietly to herself.

"do beans do something to the doctor?" i ask, very confused.

"they kind of twist up the doctor's mind when eaten, he must've not been paying attention to what he was eating i suppose." rose states.

"hold on, is this even possible?"

"yes, it's very possible y/n." the other doctor replies.

"how do we fix him? i really need my old doctor back."

"y/n are you coming back?! i want cuddles!" the doctor yells from inside his room.

"cuddles eh?" rose smirks.

"another time, please? we have bigger problems here." i beg and she nods.

"the only way to restart our system is through drinking some sort of vinegar, doesn't really matter what kind. it's bloody terrible though." the doctor says.

i walk back into the room and quickly grab the doctor’s arm and drag him out of the room.

“y/n, what are you doing?” he asks as i drag him over to the kitchen. luckily we have apple cider vinegar in the cabinet. i poured a little into a cup and gave it to him to drink.

“what’s this?” he asks as he studies the liquid.

“it’s apple juice.” i lie as he immediately downs the drink and starts coughing and then he practically passes out on the ground. i quickly grab the cup before it hits the ground so it doesn’t break.

a couple seconds later the doctor sits up and looks around.

“y/n? what are we doing in the kitchen? weren’t we just in my room?” he asks and stands up.

“doctor?”

“yes?” he replies and turns around and scratches his head.

“you’re back. thank god. rose it worked!” i yell down the hall.

“rose!?” the doctor shouts and he runs towards the direction where i yelled to. i quickly follow behind, back to his room.

“they must’ve snuck out.” i say to myself.

“why did you say rose? like rose tyler? what happened?” he asks frantically, in a state of panic.

“calm down doctor you’re fine, you just had some bad food earlier.” i say gently.

“it was pretty tasty, you’re a good cook y/n.” he winks and runs up to the tardis console.

“hey doctor! you’re still in your pajamas!” i yell and he comes running back down and into his room.

“thank you!” he yells on the way down and i laugh as he gets dressed.

a/n: summary of this is, beans are evil.

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “Situations”

A/N:  WHAT?! BACK TO BACK UPDATES?! Yes, you're not dreaming, it is happening and even I, am surprising myself. I'd like to thank you all for the support even though I haven't written in a while. I've never received much more heartfelt messages and comments. With much encouragement, this next chapter wrote itself quickly. :) I hope you like it. As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground

XXXXX

“Are we on for lunch next Friday?” she asked, three blocks away from her home. 

“Actually, I’ll be going on a two week business trip to London.” Jamie answered. “I need to look at our office down there, catch up with our staff and clients” 

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mention it earlier. But my schedule is going to be cramped.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s work!” Claire bumped his arm with her elbow. “Message me when you’re back and settled and let’s catch up then.” she followed, hoping to keep communication lines open in line with what seems to be a long break. 

“I will.” Jamie noted that offer. “How about you? How is your week looking?” 

“Uhm, between my rounds, surgeries, and department duties” Claire counted with her fingers for emphasis. “My days are pretty much full. Lunch, late evenings and the weekends are generally my free times.” The answer also serves as an indirect information Claire hoped Jamie would figure out about how unpredictable her time and availability is.

A brief silence and then Claire asked the question that was on her mind since the afternoon. “Erm, why didn’t you tell me you were popular?” 

“What?” Jamie chuckled. “What is the world are ye talking about?” 

“It has come to my attention that you, Jamie Fraser, apparently, is one of Scotland’s most eligible bachelors.” Claire said and Jamie groaned. 

“Ugh, how’d you find out?” 

“Geilis mentioned it earlier. Apparently, there are magazine pictures that I should see. She’s showing me her copy on Monday.” she added, earning another joking sigh. “I wondered why it never came up and/or why you didn’t tell me?” 

“One, I thought you, at least, knew. I mean, it was in a national magazine. Second, it’s not the first thing I share with the people I meet. How would you feel if I said, ‘Hi, I’m Jamie Fraser, did you see my photo on Tatler?” he saw her tilt her head and stick her tongue in feign disgust. “Exactly.” 

“I guess that’s a valid point. Still - I guess, I’d rather knew about myself first or you.” 

“I’m sorry, Sassenach. It just comes with working at a local, historic business, keeps us afloat, ye know. I’ll warn ye ahead of time of any write-ups about me out there.”

“What’d ye call me?” Claire stopped walking.

“Hmmm?”

“You called me a Sassenach?” she raised her eyebrow. 

“Aish, it’s not as bad as ye think it means. It just means Englishwoman, an outlander, not from Scotland.” Claire didn’t look convinced, forcing Jamie to explain further. “It was my first thought about ye when you slipped under my umbrella. I guess it kinda stuck and is what I’ve been calling ye in my head.”

“Mhmm, alright.” She shook her head and smiled. “This is me” 

Jamie looked at the Georgian building and took note of the place and surroundings. “I guess, I’ll see you in two weeks.” 

“I’ll see you in two weeks” Claire waited briefly if Jamie had anything else to say or do but when he didn’t move, it was her cue to leave. “Bye, then.” 

“Bye.” Jamie watched Claire enter her home and when she was safely in, he walked back to his car, berating himself if he missed a big opportunity. 

--

Claire reached the emergency room and immediately asked for a patient in the nurse’s station. “Tammas Baxter?”

“Bed 4” She quickly went to where the nurse pointed and opened the curtain to find a pale, sickly, boy, a frightened grandma, and a fidgety young lady. 

“Hi, I’m Dr. Claire Beauchamp and I’ll be checking on Tammas today. Are you his family and what seems to be the problem?” She asked the ladies on the other side of the bed as she examined his physical state. 

“Yes, we are. I’m Mrs. Fitz, his grandma and this is Laoghaire, his cousin. He came home from school this afternoon and just started vomiting and developing a head and stomachache.” 

Claire leaned down and smelled Tammas, having a hunch already on what the boy might be going though but she needed to confirm. “Tammas, my name is Claire. I know you’re in pain right now but I need you to tell me something so we know what medicine to give you, okay?” The boy nodded weakly. 

“Did you eat this?” Claire shared a photo on her phone and despite his frailty, everyone saw the panic in his eyes looking from Claire to his grandma. Claire looked at the old lady as she soothed rather than scold her grandson, telling her he was in no trouble and just needed to tell the truth. With that, the boy turned to Claire and gave a nod to confirm her suspicions. 

“Thank you, good lad.” Claire patted the boy and proceeded to order her treatment to the nurses. “Get blood and urine samples, hang an IV and start to give him a dose of anti-poisoning” 

After getting a clear from the nurses, Claire invited his guardians outside to explain his situation better. “Hi, Mrs. Fitz, was it?” the older lady confirmed and she proceeded to explain the situation. “Tammas ingested a plant called Lily of the Valley. It is incredibly poisonous and you made the right decision to bring him in immediately. We caught it at the right time and we’ll treat him with fluids and medicine and we’ll observe him in the next couple of days until his situation improves. He’ll be just fine.”

Mrs. Fitz sighed in relief and then hugged Claire which she returned. As a pediatric surgeon, she’s already used to these moments but it always warms her heart when it happens. Mrs. Fitz then asked her niece to check on admitting Tammas and left. They checked on Tammas again, the boy now asleep after being medicated. 

“I’ll check up on him before my shift ends. I’ll ask the nurses to page me if anything changes on his condition.” Claire said, signing his chart and placing it back on the caddy. 

“Thank ye, Doctor.”

“Please call me Claire” 

“Ye know, it was my nephew who told me to go straight to the ER and look for Dr. Beauchamp. He didn’t mention, though, that Dr. Beauchamp was a pretty lady.”  

A blush threatened to creep Claire’s cheek but she kept her composure. “Jamie called ahead as well, told me that you were coming. I was free and was able to come down to the ER. I’m happy to help” 

“And how did ye know it was poisoning right away?” 

“I dabble in medicinal herbs sometimes. The plant has a distinct smell that I picked up while I was examining him. Jamie also had a hunch and told me about a tradition with the boys about eating the plant as a right of passage. Between those two, it kinda showed itself.” 

“I see. And how long have ye known Jamie?” Mrs. Fitz found the opening and she took it. 

“Not too long.” Claire smiled and answered honestly. Just then, Laoghaire returned with documents for them to sign and she excused herself out. 

As Mrs. Fitz finished the paperwork, her thoughts flitted back to Claire. When she asked about Jamie, she somewhat expected the lass to immediately gush all over him as what she’d experienced with his previous affairs. 

But what she found, instead, in their short conversation thus far, was a genuineness that was incredibly refreshing to see. She didn’t know the extent of their relationship, yet, but for whatever’s worth, she knew Jamie found a good one. 

---

“You were right, it was poisoning. Yep, no - he’ll be fine now, Jamie. We’re treating him and should be able to go home in a few days.” Claire put the phone on speaker as she signed documents in her office. It’s been a week and a half since they last saw each other and due to the nature of their jobs, they’ve texted sporadically, just catching up or checking in, here and there. But, today, the emergency forced them to communicate more directly and urgently to which each of them welcomed.

Jamie was on the other line, wanting to hear the update himself. “I told the lad not to do it and he still did. Mrs. Fitz might not have a thing to say anymore to him but I might have” 

“Like you were not a ten year old that broke the rules before.” she gruffed. 

“Still, my da told on me.” 

“Jamie, I’m sure Tammas would have plenty to hear about it by the time you come back.”

She heard a sigh on the other end and she knew she’d saved the lad against more scolding from his family. “Yer right. I’ll just settle for a really, really stern look and not give him his presents” 

He can hear her roll her eyes and moved to change the subject. “Who accompanied Mrs. Fitz, Sassenach?” 

Claire smiled, still not use to the name but truthfully, she liked it because it came from him. “A granddaughter, I think her name was Laoghaire.”

“I see.” he said plainly and Claire caught on. 

“Anything you’d like to share?” she pressed but instead the call ended and rang again, this time a video call. 

Claire was surprised but took a quick look at her mirror and accepted the call. 

“Yes?” 

“Nothing. Just wanted to see how are ye” 

“You called after I mentioned Laoghaire. That is suspicious.”

��There’s nothing to tell other than, she might have a wee crush on me, Sassenach.” 

“A wee crush. That explains the weird look she gave me earlier today.” 

“What weird look?”

“Like she was sizing me up or something. Didn’t last long, though, Mrs. Fitz had her do all the errands earlier. 

It was Jamie’s turn to make a face and shrug. “Don’t let her get to ye, Claire. I’m no interested in her” 

“Oh yeah? Why so?” she quipped back. 

“For starters, she isna my type and…” 

Claire cut him off, “Alright, alright, no need to say more” a laugh bubbling as Jamie looked so serious on her screen. “Anything else, you need to say, Mr. Fraser? Some of us have to work here.” 

She saw Jamie scratch the back of his head, turn red, and hear the shuffling of his feet. “Erm, Claire, would you be free this Saturday evening?” 

She looked at her calendar, “My schedule is free so far” 

“May I have the pleasure to take you to dinner then?”

“Are you asking me out, James Fraser?” Claire asked, eyeing him adorably. She was not at all surprised that their lunches would eventually become dinners. It was only a matter of time. If they we’re not interested in each other, they had stopped meeting a long time ago. 

“Aye.” Jamie replied, anticipating her answer.

“Pick me up at my place around 7:00?” 

“It’s a date, then.”

[ka-writes]

——————

Notes: I was at camp. Sorry for posting late... in return I gift a long chapter!

——————

In Case you missed it:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 2:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Warning: Characters being trapped, mentions of IVs, Cussing, yelling, characters being restrained, nightmares, mentions of murder, a guy being arrested.

——————

“Humans are [add text here]”

Chapter 3: A Wild Crow Father has Appeared

Phil wasn’t expecting to be returning to Planet A112 so soon but Wilbur had sent a distress signal and that was the Dream Team Craft’s next stop.

The planet itself stood as a port market place. There were many of these planets around the galaxy, but it was probably the more popular ones for criminal ships and such. Poachers and Scientists alike came here to get supplies to take the biggest beasts in the galaxy, Humans.

Phil never understood the appeal, but both of his sons had gained that sort of adventurous aspect that he had lost so many celestial years ago. He assumed the only reason people ever chased the creatures was to fill their pride.

That was the exact reason Techno had joined the poacher ship three years ago. He only returned when it had crashed three months ago. To this day he has yet to reveal what horrors had gone on the ship.

Wilbur had another reason to go after the infamous creatures. His crave for knowledge was eating him up as was for most scientists. He joined the Dream Team Craft only six months ago and was already heading back to the SBI Craft.

Techno was pacing around the marketplace studying different weapons and supplies. Phil had been standing off to the side, leaning on one of the building walls. Every once and a while he would check his communicator to see where Wilbur was. Thankfully he had turned on his location so Phil could easily watch as he made his way through the maze-like market.

“Is he getting close?” Techno asked running low on patience.

“He’ll be here in two minutes or so.” Phil bit his lip, “You can head back to the ship, I don’t mind waiting for him.”

“I am not leaving you. Prime knows what Wilbur brought back this time.” Techno replied. Wilbur always had a knack for bringing back things he found interesting. This wasn’t the first time he had left the SBI Craft. This would be the 37th since he turned 14. Now he was 24 and the Craft had been designed to handle whatever he brought back. There was a holding room fit for literally any species, a mechanics room full of technology he gained an interest in. A garden and a gardener which was also retrieved by Wilbur. And of course Wilbur’s pride and joy, the laboratory.

“If you want mate..” Phil said, shaking his head.

Not even two minutes later he saw Wilbur coming from the middle of the crowd. He was carrying what looked like a hurt child.

“Well this should be interesting.” Techno mumbled as he spotted Wilbur.

Once the phantom saw them he strode over and they made their way over to him.

“What do you have this time mate?” Phil asked, curiosity filling him to the brim with questions.

“Someone I can’t explain till we get to the ship.” Wilbur states with a tone he had never heard from his son.

After a second of standing awkwardly they had come to a silent agreement to head to the ship.

It took less than five minutes. Wilbur was half sprinting to the lab before Techno’s assistant had even registered that Wilbur was back. Phil gave a quick greeting to the gardener and assistant before following Wilbur to the medical part of the lab. He almost fainted when he saw what was laying on the medical bed.

“I know it looks bad, but I couldn’t help myself.” Wilbur said apologetically, “I know you’re gonna want answers but I really don’t have a lot of time before serious damage is done to him. I’ll explain after I fix him up.” He glanced up with a face full of sincerity.

Phil sighed pushing aside any fatigue and collecting his thoughts. “How can I help?” He states without an ounce of shown-fear in his voice.

Wilbur took a moment before answering. Prime the silence was loud. “Keep everyone out of the lab, and set up another room.. that would be great.” Wilbur said. The worry in his voice was apparent, but Phil said nothing of it. Instead he started on the tasks that came with being the captain of the craft.

——————

He woke up to LED lights blinding him. Tommy blinked a bit before sitting up.

He was sitting on what appeared to be a hospital bed. An IV was attached to his wrist and there were strange alien restraints attached to his legs but not to his wrists. That would be a mistake if he knew how to take the sticky black cuffs off. Which he didn’t. Plus he was too weak to attempt.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked around. The bed was pushed into the back corner directly across from a window. There was no glass or plastic covering the window, only a shiny force-field looking thing. The window also was the length of the wall. To the right of the window was a little slot and shelf, clearly used to deliver food. To the left of the window was a place for a door. The only thing was there was no visible door, just more of the light blue painted wall. To the left of the space was a bunch of shelves with a bunch of weird toys, games, books, and puzzles. Across from that was a card table and two comfortable chairs. At the end of the bed was a bench looking thing in which the lid lifted up.

All in all the room was clearly used to keep people occupied while keeping a close eye on them. The inhabitants of the ship had prepared it so it could withstand most things. The furniture in the room had been nailed to the floor. The chairs could move either closer or farther from the table with whoever was sitting down using a strange contraption. None of the toys on the lower shelf could be eaten and all games and puzzles were on higher shelves. The books were also all hard covered. There were even plastic bookmarks in a small container next to the shelves. The window was clearly impossible to get through and looked like it would absorb whatever you threw at it. The food shelf had three mechanisms that wouldn’t be easy to get through. There were no vents or places to hide. It was very apparent they had done this sort of thing before.

The last thing Tommy looked for was a light switch. By some sort of luck he spotted it. It was a weird sort of dial thing that was right by the IV stand. It was currently at 100 and he then dialed it down to 35. It was dim enough to sleep but bright enough to see everything clearly. Not even five minutes later he fell into a deep sleep.

——————

“YOU BROUGHT A HUMAN?!” Tubbo yelled, fluttering his wings furiously, making him hover ever so slightly.

Ranboo swiftly put his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder pushing him back onto the ground. The enderian shifted anxiously making Techno ponder if he was also gripping Tubbo to keep himself grounded. Phil stood near Will expectantly. Wilbur shifted from foot to foot and rubbed his arm, yet kept his head up to look at everyone. Techno was leaning against his security desk, side eyeing the now asleep human.

“I knew you were stupid, I just didn’t know you were this stupid.” Techno stated without a hint of remorse. Wilbur scoffed before attempting to collect himself.

“I couldn’t just leave him there! It was a mission built for researching humans. Meaning they would be doing nasty experiments for prime knows how long!” Wilbur snapped, with a seriousness Techno hadn’t seen since Wilbur brought back the other children on the ship, “He is a kid. Not an adult that had nowhere to go and was doing prime awful things. He is a kid with no family, no home, and barely making it through the day. I read through his file and he has gone through awful shit. I wasn’t gonna let him die in misery too. If you don’t want him on the ship, then I will get myself my own ship.” Wilbur threatened with a tone not to be questioned. Techno took a moment to think through Will’s response before coming up with an answer.

“He can stay. As long as you keep him in line and take care of his rations. He is not to leave his room until we make sure he can do no damage. If anyone wants to visit him, you are either outside the window or I am present. No excuses.” Techno finished satisfied with his answer. Phil may have been the legal captain of the ship, but when it came to rules Techno was always the one to make them.

Phil nodded in agreement. The two children nodded aggressively, both of which clearly had no intention of going near the human’s holding cell. After a minute Wilbur nodded.

“Fine. If those are the rules I will comply.” Wilbur said, “I need to adjust some things, I will assume Techno will be coming with me?” He asked reluctantly.

“Yes.” Techno bluntly said.

“So be it.” Wilbur snapped. Techno just brushed it off as they headed towards the lab cells.

——————

Tommy was running through the forest on the edge of town.

It was his favorite trail and the only one his parents let him go on alone. Which cost a long series of promises and supplies he had to go with.

Usually he would be running on the trail for fun but this time it was a sprint home. He didn’t know what was wrong but he knew something was wrong. Especially when he saw the blue and red lights light up the evening sky.

“I didn’t do anything you bastards!!” His dad yelled over the sirens. They had him in cuffs repeating the Miranda rights to him as they pushed him into the back seat.

“What’s going on?” All Tommy could manage his throat was tight and he was struggling to hold back angry tears. He caught one of the officers' attention. She smiled softly.

“He got caught doing something bad to his wife.” She said sadly.

“What did he do?!” Tommy cried even louder this time tears slipped down his face. At this point the officer got more serious.

“I am not obligated to say.” She bit her lip before continuing, “Why don’t you go back to your parents?” She replied softly. This was the first time Tommy got angry, not annoyed or that childish angry. The kind of anger that makes you wanna burn the world down. It was a quick flash but enough to make him snap.

“You took my dad…. What did he do to my mom?” Tommy answered coldly. His answer clearly shook the officer.

“Aw kid, I- .. I am sorry.. he killed her.” Tommy already knew the answer. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He heard someone scream from far away. Maybe it was him, maybe someone else. They pushed him through a series of questions all of which he could barely answer. His mind was somewhere else. He couldn’t calm down. Everything was too much.

He woke up in a cold sweat. Tears were running down his face. His breath was rapid and uneven. He hadn’t had a dream like that for a couple of months, granted he barely slept. After a few shaky breaths he calmed himself enough to grasp where he was. He wiped the tears just in time for the spot where the door was to open.

In stepped Wilbur along with a really tall alien. The tall alien stood in front of the door as Wilbur rushed to Tommy’s bed. Tommy lost control of his breathing, barely calming down.

Wilbur grabbed his hands to which Tommy snapped his head towards the alien. “I want you to breathe with me okay?” Wilbur said softly. He moved Tommy’s hand to his chest and started taking deep breaths. After a minute Tommy managed to even his breath to Wilbur’s pattern. “Good, good. I am gonna take off your IV since you don’t need it anymore. After that I can get you some food and water, then we can talk alright?” Wilbur said, keeping his tone soft and slow. Tommy rubbed his eyes and nodded.

Wilbur took his arm, there was a small pinch then the IV was off. Wilbur quickly left and came back after about two minutes. Within those two minutes Tommy got a better look at the other alien.

The alien had light pink ruff skin with neat pink hair tightly braided. They were wearing a puffy cream shirt that was tucked into dark brown pants, which were tucked into black boots that went up to their knees. Their knees bent backwards and the boots were shaped weirdly, like they were built for hooves. They had hooves where their hands would be, that somehow had thumbs. They also had tusks poking out of their mouth. Along with blood red eyes that had white pupils. Their ears poked out of their hair and were both torn and pierced with gold earrings. They also had a gold chain necklace with a stone that resembled an Emerald. They also wore a black belt with a gold clip. Attached to the belt was an alien sword leaning against their right hip, on the other side was what resembled a gun.

Tommy swallowed down food that was threatening to come up. He waited patiently for Wilbur to come back, trying his hardest not to stare at the other alien.

“My name is Techno. He/him. Same with Wilbur and most of the crew. The only one who has other pronouns is Ranboo who goes by he/they.” Techno, stated bluntly. Tommy collected himself before responding.

“I am Tommy Innit, er- he/him.” Tommy finished with a shaky voice.

Luckily the awkward tension didn’t last long as Wilbur practically sprinted through the door, shoving Techno out of the way. He pulled a tray that was neatly folded out of the wall and put a glass of water and some food on a plate.

“Some parskey with hatatoes. It tastes good I promise.” Wilbur explained. He then went to grab something he left outside and sat at the card table. He put two plates down and Techno joined him. The door closed after that. There was no button or anything, it just closed. Tommy was a little baffled by it but looked towards the food put in front of him.

It was a white meat, similar to chicken, with a brown version of mashed potatoes. He looked over to the other two who were talking in a different language while eating the same food. With that Tommy decided it was okay to eat. Just like what it reminded him of, it tasted like chicken and mash potatoes with small differences. Like the meat was dryer and more salty and the potatoes were a little sour. Either way it was still good. He then drank the water. There was no odd taste this time so he assumed it wasn’t drugged.

Once he finished he attempted to listen in but was only met with a series of strange sounds. He gave up and pushed the tray away. Almost too quickly he fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t even notice when the visitors took their stuff and left.

——————

Ranboo poked at his food glancing up every once and awhile. The two crew members had returned from the human’s room and decided to finish their food with the rest of the crew. Everyone sat in a tense silence.

“So,” Phil clapped his feathered hands and turned towards Wilbur. “What do we know about the kid?” He asked.

“His name is Tommy Innit, pronouns he/him. He is 14 and was living on the run for six months. No family according to him and he’s allergic to nuts.” Wilbur answered.

“From what I can tell he isn’t super dangerous, just fearful. He already trusts Wilbur, somehow. Though I think it is due to Wilbur saving his life. It will be harder for the rest of us to gain his trust.” Techno added. Ranboo swiftly wrote the responses down, making sure to keep major notes.

The rest of dinner was uneventful and everyone awkwardly washed dishes and went to bed. Assumingly to sleep. Everyone except Ranboo that is. He couldn’t wash dishes due to his biology and he didn’t really sleep. Every time he tried the void would wake him up or he would go into a half-conscious state that the crew deemed as enderwalking.

So for what felt like the hundredth time they stayed awake laying in bed. This time however their mind was racing with thoughts. Traveling through situations that used to seem impossible before the human boarded the ship. Still curiosity was eating their insides.

With a half made up mind Ranboo shot up in bed. They stalked over to where the human was being held and peered into the window.

Almost instantly the human sat up. After yawning and getting into a position he was comfortable in he just stared at Ranboo making them incredibly uncomfortable.

“Who are you?” The human asked, Ranboo couldn’t remember his name.

“Oh! Uh, I am Ranboo.. I am kinda like an assistant, I-I guess.” Ranboo said, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Ah cool. I am the biggest man! Tommy Innit. You should be grateful to be in my presence.” The human practically flowed with confidence making Ranboo question if all humans were like this. He shook off the questions and turned back to the human who was now playing with the light monitor.

“So… what was your planet like?” Tommy asked, startling Ranboo a bit. “I-I mean you don’t have to answer of course.. just wondering..” the human stuttered. They took a moment to go through their thoughts, narrowing down what they could.

“I guess it was peaceful.. in a way.. no one really fell out of line. It was unified, creating a peaceful haven. It wasn’t like people couldn’t fall out of line it’s just they didn’t want to. M-most of them were content with the way they were… but if there was something wrong they would absolutely take any measure to destroy it.” Ranboo finished bitterly, trying to shake off his old hurt of how they treated him. “W-what about your planet?” Ranboo asked.

“Ah.. Earth is interesting to say the least… We don’t all follow the same rules. And there is a lot of falling out of line… But I guess that’s what gave it a certain charm and a certain aspect that made it brutal.” Tommy finished his serious tone melting in an instant, “But that’s there not here! I wanna know what everything is like.” He said looking at Ranboo with curiosity.

That’s how Ranboo created a bond with the strange blond creature. They bounced from topic to topic mainly ending with one of them going into a deep explanation of one thing or another. They talked until both of them ended up passing out sitting next to the window.

——————

Chapter 3- End

Words- 3,212

——————

Techno- “Don’t go near the human without my presence.”

Ranboo- ._.

Ranboo- Ima do it... >:p

——————

(That was a bad one but oh well..)

——————

End Notes: I got carried away a bit... I have a few more filler chapters before we start actually getting into the plot.. also after this should I start a super hero AU?

Ignore minor mistakes... I did reread through it this time so there shouldn’t be too many...

As always likes are nice but reblogs are better! Please share this with people of you enjoyed, I hope you did!

Go get some water, sleep, eat food, and stay safe!! Love y’all <3

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Chapter 4:

[chronicals-of-top-surgery]

9 days post OP 6/4/22

Discomfort level 1/10

Ive had to re-wrap my ace bandages every morning because they get so tangled throughout the day and at night. Obnoxious as hell, I hate it. On the bright side, my surgeon was right and my swelling has gone down now that I've made sure it's tightly wrapped up.

My left nipple still looks way darker than my right, especially since my right looks so healthy and fresh right now. It's really making me nervous but I have that Monday follow up on the 6th so fingers crossed.

I'm getting a lot more strength in my arms and chest and I'm able to push myself up easier. Ive startled myself a few times and I have to remind myself to not push it and to be super gentle and careful with my arms. My range of motion and strength has been quickly returning, though that has only made me more antsy.

I'm itching to not have this wrap on and to sleep on my side (I tried it, not comfortable), and to just in general do a lot more. I basically have to force myself to stay put. I've gone out and done errands with my mom, like driving with her to take her puppy to the vet and go shopping, but I don't carry more than a few things at a time and we've been careful to not keep me out of the house for too long. I stay up late laying in bed, I sleep in, I sit and recline on the couch, we go get food or do some errands, eat, then I lay down again. Kind of the routine now. I feel weird being such a lump but I know that's in part a ✨trauma response✨

My mom is getting way better but it's still stressful and tiring being with her. She hasn't done a ton of bad stuff, especially with how she used to be, but it's not like being with my partner which is 99% relaxing and once in a while he gets on my nerves. That's normal. My mom is more like a 60/40 split right now, in her positive favor, but still tiring compared to what I'm used to.

The hardest thing right now is quelling my anxiety and antsy energy in order to rest. I know I could be better at resting right now but hopefully I haven't impeded the recovery too much.

[quillandink333]

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part I

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.9k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

A deafening blast jolted me out of my slumber. I snapped upright.

As a member of law enforcement, I was painfully familiar with the sound of a gunshot, and that was exactly what I’d just heard.

I strained my ears with bated breath, trying to hear over my own thundering heartbeat.

Loud, frantic footsteps raced down creaky, wooden stairs. Then a terrified scream filled the halls of my childhood home.

I tore away the sheets and rushed to where the scream seemed to have come from. When I reached the parlour was when I stumbled upon the scene. There, right at the foot of my mother’s memorial, was my godmother’s cold, lifeless corpse. Kneeling beside her was her granddaughter, Paya, weeping into her open palms in shock.

Only a minute or two had passed since I’d awoken at the sound of gunfire. “Wait here,” I ordered, then made a break for the front entrance, the nearest and most instinctual escape route.

But when I threw the doors open, there wasn’t a soul to be found.

I returned to the parlour with my tail between my legs. Then my toe hit something heavy and metallic that clacked underfoot. When I looked down and saw what it was, I froze. With caution, I ever so slowly stepped away from the weapon.

“Great...” I muttered, seeing as now it would have my toe prints on it. But the longer I looked at it, I realized I’d seen this revolver somewhere before.

Then it hit me. It hit me like a two-ton train car.

I quickly made sure Paya’s head was turned. Then with terribly trembling hands, I did what I had to do and carefully tucked it away in my nightgown.

I’d feared the precinct wouldn’t allow me to participate in the investigation seeing as I’d been on the scene at the time of the crime. However, it seemed they trusted me enough to even appoint me as the lead investigator. Granted, I had done a lot to earn their trust over the past three years, but this was unheard of.

Nevertheless, I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The next morning, at seven o’clock sharp, I returned to the scene of the crime equipped with all the necessary tools of my trade.

I looked out the window of the cramped police buggy at our destination in utter astoundment. There were already droves of officers there, awaiting the arrival of me and my partner. The sight of the place I’d once called home being chained off and hidden from the public like this was jarring, to say the least. Of all the strange crime scenes I’d seen, this was the strangest. I never could’ve imagined I’d be returning here, not to eat Auntie Impa’s delicious pork buns or to hear Auntie Purah talk about her latest technological endeavours, but for work. How could I have?

“Zelda! Good—good morning!” greeted a rather skittish Paya when she opened the door for us.

“Good morning, Paya.”

She nearly lost her smile when she noticed Constable Fyori standing beside me. “Please, come in.” She stepped aside, and he and I entered into the low-ceilinged yet stately vestibule, removing our shoes and leaving them by the door. “Can I get either of you anything? Some tea, maybe?”

My assistant opened his mouth, but I raised a hand, silencing him. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. We have important business to take care of.”

“Oh, yes, of course! Silly me,” she chortled. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”

The first order of business was to examine the body. In most cases, a specialist would be needed to perform an autopsy, but unlike most inspectors, I had the forensic knowhow to take care of it myself. One might have said this was a side effect of my hobbies and my avid interest in all things related to science that I’d harboured since grade school. However, a full autopsy complete with the weighing of the body and the removal of the organs would come later. For now, it would suffice to determine two simple things: the time of death and the cause of death.

But before I could even get close to the body, I was stopped by my assistant, who grabbed me gently by the arm.

“You don’t have to do this,” he uttered in his typical, mousy tone. “I can call for someone else to come and take care of it for you.”

The look of real and profound concern seated deep in his aquamarine eyes pulled at my heartstrings. It had been a year, roughly, since he’d first begun working under me. He was always so worried for me, and I always felt terrible because of it. I unhooked his hand from my arm, putting on a warm smile. “I’ll be okay, Link.”

He looked at me as if to ask, “Are you sure?”

“Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry,” I insisted. “Thank you, though.” This finally got him to return my smile, albeit only briefly.

I already had a decent estimate of the time of death. The period we were looking at was between half ten at night, when the last person awake (which had just so happened to be me) had gone to bed, and three in the morning, when the gunshot had given me that rude awakening. Really I should have examined the body as soon as I’d discovered it. In most other cases I worked on, I even wished I’d been the first on the scene, before the stiff had yet to even go stiff. Of course, the one time I happened to be one of the first to discover a murder, it had to be like this.

And yet, until I knew who was responsible for this atrocity, grieving could wait.

Right off the bat, I could tell that this had been a homicide. This may have seemed obvious to someone like Paya, but as a detective, I’d had to forcefully train myself to assume nothing and question everything. Based on the characteristics of the hole running straight through her neck, however, I determined that the gun had been shot from too far a distance for it to have been suicidal. Auntie Impa’s arms simply weren’t long enough.

But for a death caused by hemorrhage from a severed jugular vein, there was a shockingly small amount of blood. The rush-woven mat beneath her was nearly spotless, and I knew from experience how difficult it was to get stains out of these mats. Even when I checked underneath the mat, there was still nothing. No blood, and no bullet.

With a final nod, I stood up and signalled the other officers to take the body away.

“Now, let’s see here...” I said to myself, scanning the area immediately surrounding the corpse before approaching my mother’s altar. But when I laid eyes on the damage it had sustained, I stumbled back.

Though she hadn’t been a follower of the same faith held by the Sheikahs, my mother’s memory had been enshrined here because, like myself, they’d been like a second family to her.

With all due caution, I picked up what remained of her photograph. The glass was shattered, and a bullet had completely erased her face.

If this wasn’t a sign of the Yiga organization, I didn’t have a clue what was. Who else would’ve borne such ill will toward Hilda Hyrule, the town’s beloved last mayor who’d been dead ever since the tragic “accident” at City Hall eighteen years prior? That massacre had been what had ushered in their age of power, and with no one left to stand in their way, they’d been terrorizing the city ever since.

Before I’d even had the chance to begin my analysis, I heard Paya’s timid footsteps shuffling up to me. “Zelda?” she whispered, obnoxiously tapping her finger on my shoulder. “Excuse me...”

I turned my head and forced a grin. “What is it?”

“Umh, I didn’t know he’d be accompanying you today.” I didn’t even have to follow her gaze to know who she was eyeing.

I suppressed a sigh. “Constable Fyori is my partner,” I reminded her politely. “I take him with me on all of my investigations.”

“Yes, I know, but...” Now her gaze was nervously flitting back and forth between me and Link. “I-I wasn’t prepared to see him again after so long. What if—what if he says something to me?”

“He won’t,” I huffed. “Now, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh my, I’m so sorry,” she fretted. “I’ll get out of your hair.” I gave her a nod of the head in thanks, and she kindly stepped back and out of my space. But even after that, I could still feel her intense stare from across the room. I let out the sigh I’d been holding in. Sure, Paya was irritating, and I was going on maybe four or five hours of sleep at most, but there was no excuse for me to be irrational, especially since it would get me nowhere in my line of thinking. What I wouldn’t have done for a nice, hot cup of chamomile at that moment.

Based on the extreme angle of the bullet’s trajectory, one could tell at a glance where the shooter had to have been positioned. They’d have been standing above the altar with very little space between the two—definitely not enough for an entire person. Therefore the bullet that had taken the victim’s life had to have been a different one. This was backed up by the absence of any blood around the hole or anywhere else on the shrine. So why had I only heard one gunshot that night? And where in the world was the bullet responsible for Auntie Impa’s death if not on the scene of the crime?

After photographing the hole and scribbling my thoughts and observations down in my notebook, I began the procedure of extracting the bullet from the altar. This was a delicate task, one that I admittedly had a hard time trusting anyone else in the force with. Once I’d succeeded in retrieving the bullet, I determined it was of the same calibre as the one that had passed through the victim’s throat, meaning it was likely that it had been fired from the same gun. Unfortunately, all these facts corresponded with the weapon I’d found on the scene mere hours ago, two chambers of which were empty. There may have been no prints left on the trigger, but even so, I simply didn’t have it in me to run a striation comparison.

Standing up straight and taking a quick, deep breath, I turned to my assistant, who seemed to be investigating the mantelpiece. “Right, then, Fyori.” He turned his head as I approached him. “Anything to report?”

“No, madam,” he replied solemnly, avoiding my gaze and peering straight ahead over the top of my head.

“Is that so...?” I tapped the end of my pen against my chin habitually. “We seem to have a dreadfully diligent killer on our hands.” I gave the room another once-over from where I stood beside him. “You’ve been thorough in your search as always, I presume?”

“Of course.”

“And you found nothing? Not even a fingerprint?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Then let’s move on,” I sighed, turning toward the doorway leading out into one of the building’s many corridors. He followed, just a few paces behind me. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to check since we got here.”

“That’s strange...” muttered Auntie Purah as she jumped through the footage captured by the front entrance’s security camera. “Symin, did I miss something?”

The Sheikah estate’s security supervisor shook his head. “Not that I could see.”

“Let me check it again.”

But even when she rewound and skipped through it a second time, the only person to appear was still myself on my initial search for the killer. Link gave me a furtive glance. I smiled at him in reassurance.

“Perhaps the other cameras caught something,” I suggested. “It would make sense that the culprit wouldn’t want to simply waltz right in through the front door.”

Auntie Purah looked to Symin. “Well, there are three other cameras, but two of them are so far removed from the scene that I doubt they’d be of much help.”

“And the third?” I asked, reaching for my notebook and something to write with.

“That would be the courtyard camera.”

“Ah, perfect!” The courtyard was located at the very centre of the property and served as an intersection between the four main hallways. “That one’s bound to have caught something. Let’s see.”

But this, too, would turn out fruitless. Throughout the night, there wasn’t even the shadow of a clue as to the killer’s movements.

“This...” I gaped. “This is impossible.” I knew for a fact that this particular model of camera was designed for the very purpose of protecting its footage from being altered or obstructed. Could the killer have made themselves invisible somehow?

“I don’t believe it.” Auntie Purah shook her head creakily. “Our company takes great pride in the reliability of our security cameras!”

Enraged, the tiny, old lady tried to stand up from her seat. Then a loud crack resounded throughout the cramped surveillance office. She screamed.

“Miss Purah, please calm down,” urged the kindly Symin, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she seethed, adjusting her glasses. “Thank you.” I didn’t know the man as well as I did the rest of the family as he had become a part of it a few years after I’d left the nest. However, it seemed like he would make a fine successor to Auntie Impa’s role of keeping her elder sister’s enduring impulsivity in check.

“There’s no reason to worry, Auntie. This is no fault of yours or your company’s,” I said, hoping to ease her pain a little. She’d suffered a terrible loss, and it was taking a great toll on her. It was difficult to watch such a brilliant mind come undone because of something like this. But after hearing my words, she looked up at me with a wrinkly smile. “My partner and I will just have to do an even more thorough inspection of the property tomorrow.”

The ride back to the precinct wasn’t a pleasant one. By the end of the day, my own mind had deteriorated into a swirling whirlpool of confusion, resentment, and woe. The investigation so far had borne so little results, it was hard to imagine that tomorrow’s search would be that much more successful. Of course there was still so much more that needed to be looked into, but right now, I just couldn’t see this turning out well. I still hadn’t solved the mystery behind my mother’s death in eighteen long years. Why, in this case, would I prove to be any less of a failure?

I curled my fists against my legs, trying my hardest to forget about the empty feeling in my stomach. Despite this, I knew I didn’t have the energy to do much more rational thinking today, if any at all.

Then my colleague broke the silence. “She was important to you, wasn’t she?” he asked, but such a personal question was strangely out of character for him.

“Yes.” I smiled sorrowfully into my lap. “I never really thought of her as a mother figure,” I admitted, “but she did put a lot of time and effort into raising me, in my actual mother’s stead.”

“She must’ve been a wonderful person.”

This made me laugh, to both his and my surprise. “Well, she would often scold me and Paya with the strictest attitude you can imagine, but I suppose she always had our best interests at heart.”

The longer I thought about Auntie Impa, the more I mulled over who could possibly have wanted her dead. She had already been getting on in age. Had the perpetrator’s need to kill her really been that dire? The only time people ever went that far was when their victim’s life would’ve put them in danger somehow if they’d have allowed them to go on living. But then again, there was the Yiga organization. They went around committing murders a couple times every week for seemingly no reason other than to flaunt their power. Perhaps Auntie Impa really had been just another one of their prey. Even so, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that there was more to it than that.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?”

The constable cocked his head, but kept his eyes on the road.

But then I stopped myself. There was still no proof of the Yiga’s involvement, so there was no point in bringing it up now. “Well, all of it is quite strange, frankly,” I amended. “The lack of blood, the missing bullet...”

“Could the killer have moved the body from somewhere else, perhaps?” he tentatively suggested.

“Very good, Link. That’s exactly what I’ve been theorizing.” The tips of his ears flushed, and he seemed to shrink back into his seat a little. “Oh, but then...wouldn’t that make it more likely for the cameras to have caught something?”

“That is true,” he concurred. “And there’s still been no sign of the murder weapon?”

I swallowed hard. “No...” My eyes flickered down toward my briefcase. “None.”

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 22

masterlist

Hello, darlings! Second update of the night because I lack any and all impulse control, and I hate myself! But I love all of you!!-- chaotic puff.

“She won’t eat. She won’t sleep. She just… she just lies there.” Namjoon whispered speaking to Jin from the other side of the bed. “I don’t know what to do, hyung. It’s like she’s dead.”

“How long has she been like this?” He asked his voice just as soft, just as serious as he gazed down at the woman.

She was curled in on her side staring unseeing out at the world as she lay tucked up under the covers. Moni was curled up in a puff near her stomach. Namjoon never let the dog on the bed, but he made no move to move the creature now, not when Y/N loved him so much.

“Since the other day. Since the meeting with those bastards from GOT7.”

“Dammit, Namjoon!” Jin hissed running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I told! I told you it wasn’t a good idea to bring her there.”

“I know.” The man’s eyes dropped to her prone form. “I fucking know.” He growled turning his gaze back to the doctor. “How do I fix her?”

Jin glared at the younger man but moved to sit beside her on the bed. He gently lifted her wrist checking her pulse before moving on to check her temperature. “Her pulse is normal, and there’s no fever. Physically, she seems fine. Y/N? Sweet girl, can you hear me?” He asked softly brushing her hair away from her face. She didn’t move, nor did she give any indication that she heard him.

“She hasn’t responded to anything since we got home.”  Namjoon sighed pacing agitatedly. “I don’t know what to do, Jin.”

Jin looked between the pair. What a mess they made. Namjoon looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and Y/N was catatonic. “I can put her on an IV and give her something to help her sleep, but there’s not much else I can do.”

“Jin,” Namjoon pleaded coming to kneel by the bed taking her limp hand in his. “I can’t lose her.”

“I’ll do what I can, but it’s up to her to come out of this. She’s…” He paused trying to think of the right words to say. “She’s been through a lot. I think it finally all hit her. She just needs time.”

“She can have all the time she needs so long as she comes back to me.”

“She’ll need to eat when she wakes up. Something light. Her stomach will be delicate after a few days of not eating. Try to make her comfortable. Surround her with things that make her feel safe.” Jin recommended feeling sorry for the other man. “She likes Peonies.” He suggested gazing sadly down at her, the guilt eating at him for not fighting harder to keep her away from that meeting.

Jin carefully set up the IV leaving her with a saline drip and a sedative to put her to sleep for the first time since Jackson had allowed her to be sold off in the name of an organization she had no part in. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the guilty look on Jackson’s face, the smirk on JB’s face. She felt Namjoon’s touch on her skin. The oblivion of the sedative was a relief, a dreamless sleep to take her away from it all. Namjoon was not granted such relief though.

He stayed by her bedside, watching over her as she slept for the first time in days. He wanted her submission, but he did not want her like this. He cursed Jaebum over and over in his mind already thinking of way he could get himself out of this “alliance” and put a bullet in the bastard’s brains, Jackson’s too. He never should have agreed to letting her come to that meeting. When he was through with them, there would be no such thing as GOT7.  

Y/N slept for two days the entire of which time, Jin remained in the estate monitoring her progress. He’d even managed to force Namjoon to take a break eventually shoving the man into bed before he could collapse from exhaustion. Yoongi had been placed in charge of the business much to the man’s annoyance. He preferred to keep to the field. He was a brilliant marksman and a ruthless negotiator, but he hated the administrative side of the business.

“Is she awake yet?” Namjoon asked returning in a rush after having been called in by Yoongi to deal with something.

Jin looked up from his book to look at the bedraggled man. “No, Joon. The sedative’s all out of her system by now though, so she’s just sleeping.”

“How long till she wakes up?” He asked settling into the chair Jin had vacated taking her hand in his.

“She’ll wake up when she wakes up.” The doctor shrugged.

“It’s been three days, Jin.” He murmured softly rubbing circles into the skin on the back of her hand. “She has to wake up. She has to.”

The doctor shrugged again. “She’ll wake up when she’s ready to. Give her time, Joon.”

“Three days.” And Namjoon looked like he hadn’t slept in any one of those three days despite the sleep Jin had forced him to get.

“She’s been getting IV nutrition. It’s not ideal, but she’ll be okay for now. If she doesn’t wake up on her own by tomorrow, we’ll take her to the medical center. Okay?”

Namjoon nodded his agreement though his attention was focused on the woman lying in the bed just as she had for the past week. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the days when she had lain there vacant or the days of this endless slumber. He longed for her to wake, to see her look at him with anything but those terrible empty eyes she had had ever since that meeting.

“Please, wake up.” He whispered placing soft kisses on the back of her hand. “Please. I’ll give you anything you want. Just come back to me.” He pleaded eyes fixed on her face. She looked so peaceful, but he would give anything to see her open her eyes. He’d even be happy to have her screaming at him again just as long as she’d wake up.

Namjoon was not an easy man by any means. He had fought for his position building Bangtan up from the ground until he was internationally feared and more powerful than he had ever imagined, but his woman made him soft. In his eyes, she was such a fragile thing, and yet he knew she held remarkable strength. She’d been fighting him ever since he’d brought her here, and as much as he craved her submission, he still wanted her fire as well.

“We can go to Jeju.” He murmured talking even though he was unsure if she could hear him or not or if she wanted to hear his voice. “I have a vacation house there. You’d like it. It’s by the sea. We could have the wedding there if you wanted, or we could have the wedding here in the garden. I know how much you love the gardens.”

“Come back to me.” He begged moving a strand of hair away from her face. “Please. We’ll be better. I’ll be better. Just come back.”  

His heart nearly stopped in his chest when he saw the first flutters of her eyelids.

“Y/N?” He asked grasping her hand tighter in his as she stirred. “Jagi?” His voice was barely above a whisper in fear that if he spoke any louder it would break the spell and the stirring would be a dream, and she would still be lying there like death. “Please, jagi.”

Her eyes opened slowly blinking unseeingly as she came out of her drug induced slumber. “Jagi?” He grip on her tightened again. Her eyes were still hazy, but they were looking at him. He jumped and sprinted to the door. “Jin!” He screamed into the hallway. “Jin, she’s awake!”

Namjoon rushed back to her side.  “Jagi? Can you hear me?” She groaned noncommittally and curled onto her side. “No, no. You have to stay awake, jagi.” He cooed climbing into the bed beside her, propping her up halfway against the pillows and halfway against his chest. “Stay awake for me, jagi.”  

“Tired.” She groaned snuggling into his chest closing her eyes again.

“I know, but you have to stay awake.”  He cooed checking to make sure her IV was still positioned well. “Jin needs to check you over.

“Jin?” She asked.

“Yeah…” He murmured into her hair. “Jin will be here soon. He needs to make sure you’re alright. You’ve been asleep a long time.”

“M’ tired.”  

“No sleeping.” The man felt a wave of relief go through him as Jin rushed into the room medical bag in hand. “Jin, she’s awake.”

He smiled also relieved by the development. “I can see that. How are you feeling, sweet girl?”  The doctor was all gentle hands and soft voice as he began to check her over. “Do you have a headache?”

“I’m tired.”

Jin hummed in agreement running a thermometer over her forehead. “I know, but you can’t sleep yet. You’ve been asleep for three days, sweet girl. I need you to stay awake and eat something for me. Can you do that?”

“I don’t wanna.” She whined scrunching her brow and burrowing back further into Namjoon’s arms and the pillows.

“You have to. I’ll have Miss In prepare some porridge for you and some tea.” He smiled looking at Namjoon whose sole focus was the woman in his arms. “Do you think you can get her to eat?”

“I can try.”  He nodded.

“My hair… is itchy.”  She whined making both hair chuckle.

“She seems okay. But she needs to eat something.” Jin informed giving the pair a relieved smile as he disconnected her from the saline drip. “I’ll be back later to check on her again after she’d eaten. Don’t let her go back to sleep, okay?”

“Can she wash her hair?” Namjoon asked remembering her complaint.

The doctor thought for a moment but nodded. “That should be fine, but don’t leave her alone in the bathroom. She’s a little hazy still.”

“Thank you, hyung.”

“Don’t let her sleep.”  Jin turned from the door to shoot them both a stern look rolling his eyes in exasperation when he saw her beginning to nod off again, and Namjoon paying very little attention to him. “Namjoon. I mean it. No sleeping.”

The other man waved him off already easing the woman out of bed and into a bridal hold to carry her to the bathroom. “I’ve got her, Jin.”

“You better.” He huffed. “I’m still holding you accountable for all of this.”

“I know, hyung.” He sighed tightening his hold on her as her head lolled onto his shoulder. “I’ll take care of her.”

With that, Namjoon took the still hazy woman to the bathroom to take care of that hair. He set her down on the counter leaning her back against the mirror as he moved to prep the tub. While the water was filling, he came back over to gently as possible help her out of the silk camisole and pant set she had been lying in before stripping himself down as well.  He knew better than to allow her alone in the bath while she was still so out of it. While her compliance was nice, it was also disconcerting. She never would have allowed this if she was fully herself.

“Okay, jagi.” He cooed scooping her up again. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He eased them both down into the warm water settling himself against the tub and her against his chest letting her rest there as he took a rag up and down each of her limbs carefully going over every inch of her. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but relish the feeling of her in his arms allowing him this sort of intimacy with her.

“Is it alright if I wash your hair for you, jagi?” He murmured gently gathering her hair to one side.

“Yeah.”  She whispered sitting up to give him more access now that she was more awake.

Namjoon’s long fingers gently worked the shampoo through her hair massaging her scalp in the process earning a hum of pleasure from the woman. He repeated this process again after rinsing before working the conditioner through her hair as well allowing her to rest once more against his chest as they waited for it to set.

“You scared me.” He sighed wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“Please,” He groaned burying his face in her neck. “Never do that again.”  

She didn’t say anything. Her eyes were instead staring ahead of her unfocused and solemn. Every piece of her longed to sink back into the dreamless sleep she had so blissfully been in less than an hour ago.

Namjoon waited for a reply even when none came. Eventually he gave up on that instead choosing to hum some tune under his breath as he rinsed the conditioner out of her hair. When that was done, he helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a towel leaving her in the bathroom as he went to grab them both something clean to wear.

He returned dressed in a pair of sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt. It had to be the most dressed down she had ever seen him, she noted as he helped her into a new camisole and pant set in a light pink silk before slipping a soft silk robe over her shoulders as well.

“Let’s dry your hair, okay?” He asked leading her to sit down. “We don’t want you to get sick.”

Eventually, they were both dressed and dried, and Namjoon carried her back out to the bedroom settling her on the large, cushy sofa that sat at the foot of the bed across from the television. He moved to leave, but her hand shot out to grab his wrist, much to his surprise.

“Stay?” She asked willing to take any form of comfort at this point.

“I have to get you something to eat.” He murmured placing a kiss on her forehead. “But I’ll be right back. Would you like me to bring Moni?”

“Yeah.”

part 23

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-Five

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII, LIII, LIV

cowritten by @lux-scriptum​

Sorin hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but when he stirred the next morning, Cyrus was still breathing, even if he was still very much unconscious. Sorin checked that very carefully, resting his paws on Cyrus’ chest and sniffing at the witches face until he felt Cyrus’ breaths ruffle his whiskers. Satisfied with how steady they were, Sorin dropped to the floor silently and padded into the kitchen.

Cameron was already up, or maybe he’d never gone to bed. He was currently cooking, and he even had coffee going in the correct coffee maker. Sorin padded closer, tail tip twitching. He propped himself up, poking his head above the counter. Being the size of a large dog, he didn’t need to do much to see what Cameron was cooking: bacon and eggs and judging by the smell coming from the oven, biscuits too.

“Shift back,” Cameron said.

Sorin’s ears flattened, but he did so, taking a step back from Cameron now that he had two legs and a pair of hands. Rather than snipping at Cameron, Sorin pulled down a couple of mugs. “How is Darius?” he asked.

Cameron flicked his eyes in Sorin’s direction before sliding back to the bacon he was currently focusing on. “He’s sleeping,” he said, after several heartbeats. “I’ll need to make more food that he can eat, if Lev was anything to go by.”

Sorin lifted a brow. “Well feel free to use our kitchen,” he responded dryly.

Cameron just put a plate in Sorin’s hands before promptly returning to his cooking. Dismissing him.

Sorin set the plate down, looking back at the bedroom. “If he needs easier food, we’ve got everything to make chicken noodle soup. The chicken is in the freezer.”

Cameron nodded tersely. “Thank you,” he said, stiffly.

Sorin nodded, and then paused, picking up on movement in the bedroom. He padded away , and all but threw himself on Cyrus as soon as he realized the witch was pushing himself upright.

“Ow,” Cyrus muttered.

Sorin hugged him, before he pulled back. “Hey. You’re okay?”

Cyrus nodded. “Yeah, just tired.” He reached over, ruffling Sorin’s curls. “No magic, though.”

As Sorin watched, Cyrus rubbed his face with shaking hands. “No magic?”

“Cant feel any,” Cyrus muttered. “I expect that was the price Asmi mentioned.”

“Cameron is making breakfast.” Sorin fluffed Cyrus’ pillows. “You feel up to eating?”

“Yeah, just help me up,” Cyrus said.

“Oh, no, I meant-”

Cyrus leveled him a patient look. Sorin shut up and helped Cyrus to his feet. When Sorin settled Cyrus at the table, Cameron placed a plate in front of him too.

“I told Cameron that he could use our kitchen to make Darius soup.”

Cyrus gave Cameron a long look, and then gave a very convinced, “Hm.”

“Glad to see you’re still alive,” Cameron said with a straight face.

“Are you and Darius staying here?” Cyrus asked.

“We’ll be gone within the next few hours,” Cameron replied.

Cyrus took a few bites, likely just so Sorin would stop glaring at him, and then waved a hand to shoo him away, even when Sorin huffed at him. “Is he awake?” Cyrus asked.

“Not yet,” Cameron said, finishing up the food he was preparing, likely for Darius. “I’ll let him sleep for a bit yet. I imagine he’s feeling a bit drained. Until then, I will leave this in your refrigerator to eat when he wakes.”

Cyrus dipped his head. “Of course,” Cyrus said. “I would like to talk to him before you leave, if he’s up for it.”

“I will make sure he knows,” Cameron said. “Do you need anything else from me?”

“No,” Cyrus promised. “I’m sure I’ll nap for a good several days once you’ve left, but that can wait.’

“Alright,” Cameron said. “Then I’ll excuse myself while you eat.”

Cameron went to wash his hands carefully before disappearing back through the house, likely to Darius’ room.

Sorin watched Cyrus until he was sure that his witch had eaten his fill, and then scooped him up. Cyrus might have an inch on him, but Sorin had demonic strength to help. Once he was sure Cyrus was tucked into bed, he ducked back into the kitchen to start cleaning. And maybe get himself a cup of coffee.

---

Cameron quietly slipped into Darius’ bedroom and shut the door behind him. Darius’s eyes were closed, making his face smooth and serene in his sleep. That particular look, that expression, that face had been buried so deeply into his subconscious, Cameron hadn’t let himself think of Darius not even once since after the punishment bestowed onto him by his brother and the horde of demons under his thumb.

Cameron moved to sit on the chair he had placed next to the bed; as close as he could get without disturbing Darius in his sleep. Cameron laced his fingers in his hair and heaved a quiet, low sigh, dragging more weariness from his chest.

Even if he could go back and do it again, if he was left alone to be beaten and fucked to the point of blood and pain and blackout, Cameron would have made the exact same decision and received the exact same punishment without any regret.

Cameron closed his eyes and breathed for two heartbeats before carefully brushing his fingers along Darius’ folded hands. Warmth was still leeched away, unsurprisingly, but they were still soft as they had always been.

He tracked every rise and fall of Darius’ chest, even through the tightness in his throat. He tried swallowing it down, trying to force it down. Even though it didn’t budge. It was almost as if the last five hundred years of very carefully placed glass started splintering around him and he couldn’t cement them all back together- couldn’t refortify them.

He hastily wiped away any wetness from his cheeks and scrubbed his face, only to be met with a very cool hand on his.

Cameron’s head snapped up and he almost pulled back, but Darius was already latched on, weakly, but latching on nonetheless. Cameron forced himself to look up from the delicate brown hands in his pale ones to the gold, concerned eyes staring at him.

“You should be asleep,” Cameron said, ignoring the tightness in his voice. He cleared his throat, or at least tried. “You need to be resting.”

Darius gave him a faintly amused look that suggested he was well arrested enough as he brushed his thumb across Cameron’s cheek.

He pulled back only to grab the stick-it notes from the night stand to scribble, 'You should try it sometime, my Cameron.'

Cameron’s nose wrinkled, but that didn’t stop him from trying to blink away more tears. Darius cocked his head and wrote, 'When was the last time you slept?'

“I’ve been busy.”

'Busy taking care of everyone besides yourself,' Darius retorted.

Cameron was too exhausted to roll his eyes and slumped forward against his will. Darius running his fingers through Cameron’s hair made his throat close up even tighter. More tears shed than he cared for, but he wasn’t able to stop them.

Darius pressed his lips to the top of Cameron’s hair, inhaling deeply. He heard the stick-it notes be moved to the bed. After a heartbeat, and then one more, Darius' voice could hardly be made out. “I forgive you.”

---

Cyrus waited until Cameron was off packing the car (with what, Cyrus wasn't sure, but he suspected it was a ploy to get out of the house for a moment) before he snuck into Darius’ room. He meant to stand and talk to him, but as soon as he made it to the room he flopped down beside Darius.

“Nice to talk to you without relying on magic,” Cyrus said, eyes sliding shut despite himself.

Darius scribbled a 'You as well.' On his pad of paper.

“You’ll have to get my phone number when Cameron gets you a phone. I doubt I’ll be allowed to visit any time soon. I’m pretty sure I’ve been barred from demonic territories. Understandably so.”

Darius nodded thoughtfully. 'Of course. I’m sure I can have Cameron bring me to you if needed. Maybe this time there will be less black magic and a little more black tea?’

Cyrus smiled. “I’d like that,” he said tiredly.

Darius returned his smile. ‘You should rest.’

“I should,” Cyrus agreed. “But you are my guest.”

‘I will be out of your hair soon.’

“You’re not a problem,” Cyrus assured him.

Darius looked rather amused with Cyrus’ sentiment, but his eyes flicked to the doorway where Cameron appeared moments later. “I’m finished packing the car,” Cameron said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve already wired money to your account for your troubles.” He turned his focus to Darius. “I’m ready when you are.”

“You don’t have to pay me,” Cyrus said.

Cameron looked at him as if Cyrus were a pest that needed swatting. “And yet I already have,” he said, dismissively. “Put it in charity and I’ll double it. Besides, I’m sure you’ll be looking for a new place to live soon since you’re exiled from Razya.”

Cyrus sighed, looking over at Darius instead. “Good luck, going home with him,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll need it.”

Eyes crinkling, Darius’ warm smile returned, more amused than anything else.

---

Lev was the closest, so he trotted tiredly to open the front door when he heard someone knock. He was quite surprised to see Cameron carrying Darius. Lev skittered back automatically, even as a smile broke across his face.

“Darius!” He switched his gaze to Cameron. “You’re home.”

Darius waved at him, but Cameron had already started down the hall, presumably to the bedroom. “Is the kitchen clean?”

“Is the- oh!” Lev scampered after him, eyes wide. “Yeah. Yes. I went over it twice once Nik was done cooking. There’s even some leftovers in the fridge for you too.”

“Good.”

Lev scrambled to open the bedroom doors once they reached their destination. He watched Cameron hesitate, ever so slightly, before walking in and gently placing Darius on the made bed. “I will be taking residence in one of the other bedrooms, as this one already belonged to Darius. You and Nik will also sleep elsewhere- in your rooms, if you wish.” Cameron very pointedly didn’t look at Darius as he said any of this. “Is the loud-mouth still here?”

“Nik?” Lev asked, in confusion, before, “-Oh. Ash?”

Cameron gave him an irritable-yet-patient look.

“Yes, Ash is here. And Celeste and Dakota. I’ve been trying to help Celeste.” He hesitated, “And keep an eye on Nik. He’s been in a mood.”

Cameron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “When isn’t he in a mood,” he muttered. “Will you go find him before he cracks his head open on the way here?”

Lev ducked around him, surprised to find Cameron let him as he threw his arms around Darius as gently as he could. When he breathed deep, the scent of cinnamon and sunlight was mixed with the faintest, almost familiar scent of death. “I’ve missed you,” Lev promised, pulling back.

For just a moment, Darius pulled him back enough to hug him a little tighter. When he let Lev go, there was a small smile on his face. Lev squeezed his hand, and then turned around.

“I’ll go get Nik,” he promised Cameron, lingering long enough to almost touch Cameron’s hand.

“I said Ash,” Cameron said.

“You-?” Lev frowned, pulling back. “Oh. Sorry?” He backed out of the bedroom.

Ash was sitting in the makeshift nursery they’d set up for Dakota, holding the infant. Celeste was reading in a chair nearby, but she looked up when Lev came in the room.

“Is everything okay, Levant?” Celeste asked.

“Yeah,” Lev said, watching Ash angle his head in Lev’s direction. “Cameron’s home. He wanted to see Ash.”

“Well it’s not like I can see Cameron,” Ash retorted, but glowered once Celeste cut him a look. “Stop looking at me like that. I know you’re looking at me, Celeste,” he said, irritably.

“Then stop giving me a reason to look at you like that,” She replied, getting up to take the sleeping babe from Ash’s arms. “He’ll go with you.”

Ash got to his feet and started in Lev’s direction. Lev hesitantly took Ash’s arm, avoiding Ash’s russet gaze even if he couldn’t see anything. The walk back was a very quiet one. The silence was particularly pointed, and Lev was not willing to break it.

Cameron was seated on the edge of the bed by the time they got back. Darius had laced his fingers with Cameron, and didn’t seem inclined to let go. “He’s on the bed,” Lev said to Ash.

Ash focused his attention in that direction. “Well? What did you want?”

“Are you able to do your healer thing or are you only as good as your magic?” Cameron asked, ignoring the cutting look Darius gave him. “If you are, I can have Lev retrieve Sazra.”

Anger and embarrassment warped Ash’s features. “Not without my equipment I can’t. I’m about as useful as a human, no thanks to you.” Darius looked pained, but Ash seemed unfazed.

“I can go get Sazra and see if she has equipment you can borrow,” Lev offered.

Ash pulled away from him. “Oh you go do that.”

Lev winced, but went trotting off again, stifling his sigh. It seemed like everyone was in a mood today. Sazra certainly wouldn’t be pleased to see him; she never was.

Her striking silver eyes pinned him in place the moment he stepped into her workspace. As always, he tried not to be unnerved by the lack of pupils, and instead took a small breath. “Um. Cameron sent me? He, uh- Ash? Needs to borrow some equipment? Darius- Cam brought Darius home. And- um. Please?”

Sazra pulled out from her desk. “I’m not too sure what that blind fool can do with my supplies and I do not feel like letting him try, either.” She grabbed a few supplies. “I will come myself, as he is a demon. Your angel can focus on being useful for someone else.”

Lev nodded quickly. “O-oh okay,” he said. “Can I help,” he added automatically. He flushed, and added, “Carrying things or, um, anything?”

She gave him a very long assessing look before holding out her supplies. “Don’t ruin any of these,” she warned. “They’re older than you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Lev said, cradling them close.

When she swept out of the room, Lev scuttled after her, keeping a respectful distance between them. If it seemed like she hesitated before leaving her basement rooms, well surely Lev imagined it.

---

Raziel knew better than to leave her wings out; or at least, it was an old instinct she had yet to curb. In the demons’ castle, it’d never been a good idea to flaunt that she was an angel.

Still, she was here on official business; this meeting had been set almost a year ago, now. If she was the type to think so, she would have thought Biela had set it so far in the future on purpose.

But no, likely the young queen had lots of things on her plate. Raziel didn’t need her magic to tell her that.

Biela didn’t keep her waiting. When Raziel knocked on her office door, she got called in immediately. Though she knew how busy Biela was, Biela’s desk was clear. It didn’t surprise Raziel, but she was quietly pleased about it nonetheless.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Raziel said politely.

Biela gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat. What did you want to talk to me about?”

Raziel sat, folding her hands over one knee. “It’s been several centuries since I’ve been able to ask this of a monarch in Razya. I used to come freely, to speak with Mizra in their temple, and I’d like permission to do so again.” She smiled slightly. “I have had a connection with Mizra for a very long time, and the most recent war has kept me from visiting. While Baylor is working to dismantle the structures Mikael built to disrupt the gods’ presence in Liewen, I’d like to reestablish contact with Mizra here.”

Biela had not returned her smile. “Yes,” she said, folding her hands on the desk. “I imagine war puts a damper on spiritual practices. We’re still in the process of rebuilding many of our temples that Mikael’s army burned to the ground. Very few were left untouched.”

Raziel inclined her head ever so slightly. “That was something else I wanted to speak to you about. I’d like to help fund some of the rebuilding; not just for Mizra’s temples, but the rest of them, too.” For the most part she left her mind open, so Biela could see without effort that she meant it.

Biela leaned back and eyed her, gaging her. But eventually she said, “That would be helpful. There may be a temple or two you could go to, though it will be entirely up to the priestesses there if they allow you to connect to Mizra. I am not about to overstep my bounds with the priestesses. They can be rather troublesome when provoked.”

“I’m aware,” Raziel promised. “It’s been a while, but Vanja and Kanta should still remember me, if they’re still around.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “I believe they’ve managed to keep out of the crossfire. I believe they managed to save some of the older texts as well. I would suggest reaching out to them first- so they are not caught off guard. Many of the priestesses are new and rather leery of outsiders.”

Raziel nodded. “Of course,” she promised. “I wouldn’t want to cause them any more distress than they've already been through.”

“It is the decent thing to do,” Biela said. “Was there anything else you needed to ask of me?”

“No,” Raziel said, standing. “Thank you, both for your blessing, and for your time.”

“Very well, then,” Biela said. “You may take your leave. And tell your granddaughter to stay out of trouble while you’re at it.”

Raziel nodded, and would have passed through the doorway without another word if something hadn’t struck her. While her connection to Mizra had waned, the blessing the god had given her was still considerable, when she listened. “Congratulations,” Raziel said automatically, looking back at Biela, before she closed the door behind her and went on her way.

---

Sazra finished looking Darius over and confirmed with the witch and her useless mate that Darius was indeed intact and healthy. She only noticed his weakened muscles and his fragile state as the result of not being used for well, five hundred years due to the unfortunate circumstances of being dead.

“I think that a similar treatment that you used on that one will suffice for Darius. There seems to be nothing out of the ordinary besides being rather weak.” She cut Lev a sharp look. “And if there is a heat, I would suggest doing as your body wants instead of falling ill. I do not think it wise to tempt the gods a third time with idiotic choices.”

Lev made the choice of climbing up on the bed next to Darius, as if the weakened demon between the two of them was a sufficient defense against Sazra’s ire. Darius took her hand in his as if to say that he would follow her advice to the T.

If Sazra was the sentimental type, she might even say she missed him, too.

Sazra took her hand back and smoothed down the simple grey dress hanging from her frame. She turned to Cameron, who was watching her rather keenly. “I do warn you, he has been dead for a far longer period of time than your pet was. So it may take longer for him to be back to peak form. He might not even get back to peak form at all.”

Toying with things outside the realm of nature rarely had good consequences. There were sure to be consequences for this latest bastardization of natural forces. At least if the screams she had heard the day before were any indication.

“Noted,” Cameron said, evenly. “I will have you check on him every few hours then. You and the witch and hash out a schedule later, I’m sure.”

The lady witch nodded. “I will be sure to talk to her later,” she promised.

With Cameron’s permission, Sazra found her way back to where she belonged, in the rooms Cameron had needlessly made larger when he inherited the house from Asmadai’s death.

She had not stepped foot outside of this house in well over three thousand years and had no intention of ever doing so again. She found her little dwelling the least stressful and full of far fewer threats to face.

She went to work finding and making more medicines and ointments that would surely help aid Darius in his recovery from, well, death.

She made sure to include the angel’s suppressants in her work as well. She did not need any more extremely loud and annoying children disrupting her learning and working.

---

Raziel was surprised at how quickly the priestesses had approved her visit. She’d expected to wait months, and she’d not even left demonic territories before they’d invited her to come. She’d turned around when she knew; no point in wasting a trip and coming back later.

Mizra’s temple, or at least the one Raziel was visiting, had been mostly untouched by the war, though she assumed that was partly because of how deep in Razya it was hidden. The temple itself was pretty simple, but there was an elegance to it that Raziel had always appreciated.

She moved through the temple quietly, making sure that she kept her gaze politely averted from the younger priestesses. Their gazes followed her, and the weight of the confusion, fear, and even a little anger. Understandably so. Raziel was an angel in their holiest of places, their sanctuary from all the horrors of the world that they’d already faced. She hated knowing she was the one to cause them more distress.

Vanja was the one to greet her, and if the warmth in her green gaze was buried under tiredness and grief, it was still there. Her blonde hair was eternally swept up in a half bun, out of her face and still free to tumble down her back like rays of sunlight.

“It’s been a long time,” Raziel returned the greeting, forcing her mouth up into the socially correct smile. “Even for us.”

“It has been a rather long war, I would say. It is a pleasure to see you as always.”

“Would that I could have returned sooner,” Raziel said, refusing to hold the tension in her shoulders any longer. “I didn’t see Kanta. How is she?” Considering everything that had happened in the excessive amount of time since Raziel had visited, she was surprised that Kanta wasn’t glued to Vanja’s side, even with her duties. They’d been close, exceptionally so, the last time Raziel had seen them.

A warm, rather loving smile graced Vanja’s face. “She is well. In fact she is helping a few new acolytes get adjusted to their new home. Mizra surely will be glad to have such devoted followers.”

Raziel dipped her head. “Kanta was always good with the younger generations,” she conceded. “I’m sure I’d have appreciated her guidance when raising my sons, and my grandson. It was never as easy as she made it seem.”

“I am sure she would have loved to help you. I do miss when tensions were not so high. It was easier to share knowledge with each other- and not not feel the weight of death so frequently.” She inclined her head. “I am sorry for your losses.”

Raziel was practiced enough to keep her old grief tucked far away from her expression and tone. “It’s part of life that some end earlier than others, as much as I’ve hated outliving partners and kin alike. I appreciate your condolences, however.” She waited the appropriate beat before, “I was hoping I could attempt to restore my connection with Mizra today.”

“Of course, of course,” Vanja said. “We mustn’t keep them waiting. I am sure they are aware you have arrived.”

“As they are of all things,” Raziel replied with a smile. She followed Vanja back to one of the empty alcoves that dotted the temple. Not really empty, Raziel corrected herself, as there were candles and plants and even pillows to kneel on, but certainly devoid of another person at the moment. Though Vanja had taken care to situate her far from the acolytes that inhabited the temple, Raziel noted.

“Thank you,” Raziel said, touching Vanja’s elbow with a featherlight touch. Yet another learned gesture, but a well practiced one. “I appreciate your willingness to accommodate me, even after all this time.”

“Of course,” she said. “I will leave so you can acquaint yourself unencumbered. Please let me know when you wish to leave so I can make the necessary arrangements.”

“Of course,” Raziel promised. She waited until the priestess made her leave before she settled in the alcove, unable to fully shake the stiffness she held herself with as she closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she was in a familiar room. The iridescent decor was as delicate as she remembered, and, unsurprisingly, Mizra looked exactly how she remembered them. Pale skin, nearly translucent, and hair the same color, or lack thereof. The only bit of color on the god beyond the simple grey dress were the same striking silver eyes Raziel herself had. A gift, or so Raziel understood it, that went along with the magic Mizra had bestowed upon her all those millennia ago. Raziel no longer remembered what she looked like with the golden eyes Lev had inherited. As far as she was concerned she might as well not ever had them.

“Well it is about time you graced yourself with my presence.”

The first genuine smile Raziel had worn in months cracked her usual facade, though it was small and quickly faded. “I missed you too, old friend,” she replied. “Much has happened, and I’m sorry this war has kept me from you for so long.”

Mizra sniffed and waved a dismissive hand. “You silly mortals and your silly wars. It is as annoying as it is hinderous. I find it tedious.”

“As you do many things,” Raziel countered. “I think the war is over, for now. You’ll have my company for a few centuries before another breaks out, I should hope.”

“Oh yes, yes,” Mizra said. “Your little rulers do seem to be competent in their jobs. Baylor sharing my gifts should hold promise.”

“Should,” Raziel agreed. “I’m sure you’ve got plenty to tell me.” Even as she thought about sitting, a chair was there, so she sank down in it with a contented little sigh. “I’ve missed our talks.”

“I have as well. My siblings can only hold my interest for so long,” Mizra said, sinking gracefully in their own chair. They had two cups of tea appear in their hands. “Tell me more about Cameron. He has been rather… distant and I find his lack of acknowledgement to be rather insolent on his part. Now that that awful woman is no longer tied to his life.”

“I imagine he doesn’t have anyone to point him in your direction,” Raziel mused. “And from the very little amount of time I’ve spent in his presence, I think she’s still very much tangled up in his mind and heart, as much as he’d refuse to admit it. Asmadai did damage to his mind and spirit that only a mother could.” She blinked slowly, accepting the cup of tea handed to her. “Though I did not expect him to become so entangled with my grandson.” She couldn’t quite lie to herself and say had she known she’d have raised him any differently, but...

“Oh yes,” Mizra said, eyes sharpening in thought. “Your interesting little breakable bird of a grandson does make Cameron all the more captivating. He and his little band of broken boys. I want you to fix him for me.”

“I’m not a therapist,” Raziel replied with a frown. “And stars know I was never a good mother; I’m not the best at guiding anyone down the path they should take.” Her frown deeped. “I’m sure you know he doesn’t trust me. He has no reason to; I’m half convinced he’s only a step from open hostility at all times when it comes to me, though I’ve done nothing to him personally.”

“I am sure it was your little war that has his mood so sour,” they said. “Anyhow, I do not care for his feelings, I care that he is worshipping me so he can access the full extent of his abilities. He’s so far disconnected from me, he might as well be magicless.”

Raziel considered her words carefully. In the end she simply said, “I will do my best to send him your way. Subtle maneuverings will get us nowhere; I’ll simply tell him you wish his presence. Even Cameron wouldn’t dare tell a god no.” She hoped, anyway.

“If he values his self preservation as much as I know he does he will,” Mizra said, glibly. “Besides, what does he think kept his skin attached to his bones for the last five hundred years. His winning charm? That would be incorrect.”

Raziel found herself laughing, albeit quietly. “You guided him well, even when he could not hear you. I’ll try to help put him on your path, or at least point him towards the correct signs and let him think he’ll figure it out on his own.”

“Yes.” Their eyes narrowed in deep thought. “Men do think they’re far more intelligent. Their little wars would be less violent if they listened to reason. It is with good luck that Cameron chooses to listen to what I have to say. I expect results, Raziel, do not fail me.”

tagging:  @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

[indigonite]

so online classes right

i wake 20min before it starts just to have enough time to rub the sleep off my eyes, kiss my dog good morning and make some coffee. maybe grab a few crackers if im feeling particularly sexy

anyway everything goes as usual. wake up. force myself to roll out of bed. wash my face. kiss my dog. grab some coffee.

the coffee pot is already out, which means i dont have to do it. nice

theres barely any coffee left in there. not nice

what can you do right? i pour whatevers left in a mug promising myself that ill make a proper one in the afternoon, add some milk (since my body cant handle too much caffeine or sugar and i refuse to buy decaffeinated, not because its bad or anything but im stupid and always forget to check), grab forementioned crackers - i may not classify my mood as bootylicious but i feel like i deserve them due to current circumstances.

breakfast in hand, i return to my room. classes are about to start so i sit down, getting as comfortable as i can, ready to halfheartedly listen to todays lesson while i type away in a document thats surprisingly lengthy for someone who used to say "i prefer taking notes by hand". anyway i open the doc, eat one my crackers and grab my less-than-half-way-filled mug to savor the only thing able to make waking up in the morning a bearable task and

it just

it tastes so bad dude

like i dont get. what did i do wrong? i mean i did the same thing i do every morning and afternoon minus the fact that there was noticeably less coffee because apparently everyone forgot that i also live in this house, therefore i also deserve to have a drink.

i cant even point out whats wrong with it but it just... the taste is off. by a long shot.

ive never been so disappointed. never have i felt so betrayed. all my motivation, all my kindoffake enthusiasm to get shit done was just washed away as i swallowed what was supposed to be just a nice and simple cup of coffee but ended up tasting like the liquid manifestation of every single thing that has ever let me down.

at this point i didnt feel like getting up and giving my breakfast a 2nd try because 1) class already started; 2) id actually have to brew some more coffee and im really not feeling it right now; 3) meant id have to throw away that half full mug (shit was so bad id consider a few drops of it as half full given the amount of willpower it would take to drink) and if you know me you know i dont throw food away no matter how bad it taste, thats a waste and i cant have that

so for the next 15 minutes or so i just slowly drink the thing away. i let it get cold because who cares right i sure dont anymore (i will say that for some unknown reason as it chilled it started to taste somewhat o k a y so maybe my brain just accepted that this is what we were doing and told my taste buds to take a rest for a few minutes so theres your silver lining) and sure enough the beast was slain

classes continued as nothing ever happened because god is uncaring and the whole thing happened in like, as i said, 15 minutes so its not like anyone would think that being absent for this long was abnormal let alone that the person was having a mental breakdown over a drink

its 3pm already.

6 hours have passed since all that went down and im still not over it

that was such a goddamn disgusting coffee

[super-secret-sick-fics]

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

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

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

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

Sick at School: a SunaOsa fic

Pair: Sick Suna, Caretaker Osamu

Word Count: 3,024

Warnings: vomit & swearing & soft cuddles

Part 2 Here

_________________________________

Suna was confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suna nodded in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmmm.”

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

“Mmmm.”

Within a few seconds, Suna felt himself drift off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully, Osamu had his back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-no,” Suna said stubbornly.

“Yer an idiot.”

“Y-yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thermometer beeped and Suna winced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[the-darkfactory]

A SICK GIRL.

This text was written and published in November 2018. This is the first time I translate to English. Hope it reaches those who need to read it most. Much love.

I was born dying. I was dragged from my mom's belly straight to the intensive care unit and spent a month in the incubator until I could breathe without machines. I was also born whole and no one ever told me that, one day, my mind was going to split in two.

I was very little when I first felt strange. Very strange. I was already 5’6 feet tall when I started my last year in primary school, finding clothes that fit me was torture. However, for my graduation party, I found a purple dress that seemed perfect. When I tried it on, under that all-showing light in the changing room, I felt fat. That was the first time I was disgusted by my reflection.

After a summer tinged with school farewell melodrama, I started high school. I spent most of my free time studying, listening to the Backstreet Boys or reading Harry Potter. At the end of the first semester, I got the best grades in my class. While everyone at home was happily celebrating, I made a pact with a friend: I was going to stop eating.

My thinness brought about new habits and what I remember the most is how cold I was: during school recess, my friends would go out to play and I would stay in the classroom wearing every sweatshirt I could find. It would take me forty-five minutes to eat an apple and before going to sleep, I would go over each food item I’ve had in the day and calculate the calories. I also learned that I had to get up slowly to avoid the dizziness that turned my room into a washing machine.

One day my family and I went to one of those “all you can eat” restaurants. After two sandwiches and a bit of cake, I started crying because I had an intense stomach ache, but it was all a premeditated drama I staged so they wouldn't make me have dinner. Two days later, my mom dragged me to a clinic. I had to take off my clothes and stand on an ice-cold scale. "You weigh 39 kilos," the doctor announced. "You're anorexic."

I was taken to a hospital that had a team specializing in treating people like me. We waited for hours until my name was called and I was met by an anti-anorexic army: a nutritionist, a clinical doctor, a psychiatrist, a psychologist and others I never understood who they were. They made my parents leave and Anorexia and I were interrogated. They asked us if we vomited, if we had thought about committing suicide and if we had ever been abused. When we talked about my parents' divorce, we burst into tears. Then they faced the back of two chairs and asked us to separate them according to how far apart we felt they had to be from each other in order for us to fit between them. We did it and passed the test: we knew we were tiny. The doctors said I was on the verge of hospitalization. I was a sick girl.

Once our relationship was made official, we went to the hospital three times a week. Long waiting, weighing, talking. We were forbidden to be physically active and we had to write down how much of what we ate a day. Mom sometimes comforted us and sometimes shouted at us. One night she yelled a lot because we had only had a piece of fruit for dinner, but how could I explain to her that eating made Anorexia hurt and so it hurt me too? We were sent to a psychologist we stared at in silence for an hour. We finished our junior year with straight As, enslaved at home and undernourished.

Anorexia and I did everything together. I would start a sentence and she would finish it. When I moved my hand to grab something, she was the one who forced my fingers closed, and if something bothered her, I did whatever was necessary to calm her down. One afternoon, we went cycling with our friends and we were carried on the handlebars so we wouldn't move. Everything was going beautifully until a sudden stop made us fall face first to the ground. We got up spitting teeth and blood. We broke our four incisors, skin came off our lips and we split the right side of our face. That night before showering, I stared at our skeletal, beaten up reflection. Days shy of my fourteenth birthday, I cried my heart out asking Anorexia what the fuck had she done.

I wanted her to go away. The only thing I could do to get her to leave was eat. Sometimes she won, sometimes I won. Once, she lost 100 grams and I went home after the medical check up feeling a killer urge. Another day, I gained 200 and that night she didn’t let me sleep. It was war. If Anorexia told me to hide food, I ran off to snack with my brother. If she hated sandwiches, I'd buy a dozen of my favorites. For every complaint of hers, a food bite of mine, and so, bite by bite, I filled her mouth with silence until I could no longer hear her speak.

I started my second year of high school with a seemingly healthy weight. I went to the hospital once a week. Eventually, I was told I could go once a fortnight, once every twenty-one days and, somehow, I stopped going altogether. I don’t remember how or when that decision was made. The only thing I do know is that during all that time I ate almost nothing from Monday to Friday and a lot from Saturday to Sunday in order to weigh more at the Monday check-ups. The thing was that once the pact between Anorexia and I had been made, she would try and talk to me every day. People didn't notice but I knew she was still there. We were still the best students, we lifted weights after eating a salad and we never got our periods. We were stopped on the streets to be offered jobs at modeling agencies and we realized that our bond had the aesthetic approval of society. I forgave her for all she had done and gave her, again, space in my body to grow.

When we turned seventeen, Anorexia changed. She screamed at me and didn't feel like doing anything. We quit the gym, gained weight and developed insomnia. One drunken night, we came home and went straight to the kitchen. We opened the fridge and devoured, on our knees, all the leftovers from dinner. We then shoved our fingers down our throats. That's how Bulimia arrived.

Bulimia was fiercely hungry. My cheeks, arms, and chin grew like a fatty bubble. I was disgusted by my body and I got dressed in the dark. I stopped studying, I couldn't concentrate on anything else. At prom I had two drinks and passed out. I woke up in hospital with an IV in my arm and my worried mother by my side. I didn't know how to explain that for weeks and in order to be skinny that night, everything I ate, Bulimia vomited.

I wanted to feel normal. I was very weak and exhausted, but Bulimia was young and confident. She never shut up, she would even eat raw polenta in spoonfuls and vomit it all, leaving me tired and confused lying in my bed. Her arrival was abrupt because Anorexia had already drilled holes in my head: they were different versions of the same thing and a pattern of destructive habits that infected everything. They turned my life into a living hell.

We vomited so much that we spent hours burying our heads in the toilet seat and we would only stop when we saw the first thing we had eaten leaving our body. We did it five, six times a day. We used every bathroom we set foot in. The ones at school, my friends' houses, restaurants, my grandmother's, my dad's. I developed arrhythmia and thought that Bulimia was going to get me killed. Some nights, while dreaming that I was violently bingeing, I would wake up desperate and ready to stick my fingers in my mouth until I realized that, that one time, the binge had been a dream. That feeling of “fake need to vomit” was the closest thing to peace I felt during those times.

Bulimia didn't want me around anyone. She made me think I was crazy and that I would never be able to be separated from her. I stayed away from my friends. I stopped having dinner with my family and we would lock ourselves up in my room. Mom would bring me trays of food that Bulimia kept in plastic bags. I once found a rotten chicken inside the closet. It was full of maggots. We were almost found out when my brother saw a glass of vomit in the bathroom that we had forgotten to flush down the toilet. He brought it to me and said, "Is this yours?" while retching. We nodded and took it away from him as if it had been a misplaced shoe.

I don't know how I managed to free myself from anorexia and bulimia, but for the last three years I have hardly felt their presence. Sometimes I wonder if I started traveling around the world to confuse them and leave them stranded in another part of the planet. Maybe they got bored of my criticism and couldn't stand my will to not share my body with them. One thing I’m sure of is that love played a major part. It was crucial to understand that I did not choose to live with them and that asking a person with compulsive thoughts to stop having them is like asking a paralytic to simply stand up and walk.

Anorexia and bulimia stole my time and energy. I gave them my will to live, my projects and motivations. In return, they gave me anxiety, panic attacks, depression and suicidal thoughts. They still whisper to me every now and then but I can ignore them. It’s not always easy. I don’t know, this coexistence has been very strange but they definitely don’t own me anymore. Looking for the reasons I developed this disorder is complex. I know that I was affected by the pressure I felt from a very young age to be perfect, the weirdness that arose in my family dynamics after the divorce and feeling that for society I was worth more as a woman the skinnier I was. The final trigger must have been a genetic predisposition and a bit of mystery: there is still a lot that science doesn't know about all this. Once my disease was established, it became a vicious, out-of-control cycle that was perpetuated by the worst evil of all: silence. I felt a deep shame, thought it was my fault and that, hence, I deserved what was happening to me. That made me sicker and I vowed to hide it, which was possible because these disorders are invisible: they lock themselves inside bodies of all types, gender, background, shape and turn them into slaves.

When I stopped vomiting and regained control of my hands, I wrote this. It feels weird. After seventeen years of being in a symbiotic relationship, there is something I still don't understand: if I am no longer a sick girl, then who am I?

[triestoohard]

lets get personal asks: Multiples of 9

all of them? ... uh well :D

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

i dont think so.

18: Do you believe in karma?

i want to but in my experience people who are trash often get what they want bc they trample others sooo

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

people sneezing. it triggers me so much bc my mom has to sneeze constantly when she's drinking and smoking its like a hick up and thats when she is/was her worst with me. also left me alone with huge responsibilities at a young age.

cats purring, rain, wind rustling leaves and grass, theres a lot ^^

36: Define Art.

something that makes you feel. any emotion. you know it when you see it hear it feel it. imo a lot of things are art <3

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

a horse kicked my full force in the stomach and my liver tore. thankfully it wasnt too bad but yeah. also once got in between a horse and a metal fence and since then my rib cage is asymmetrical and my spine kinda crooked

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

a fly protection mask for my horse. its pink :p

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

emotional manipulation i learned from my family food. i cook and bake pretty damn good.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) yes totally bitches i finally want all the love and affection you denied me my entire life just to shoot you down and drop you like a hot potato which leads me to b) go wild. pack my bags and my pets, take up a credit and spend it like im literally gonna die lol c) not really. if youre dead ur dead

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

i dont want a tombstone i want to be laid out somewhere in the wild so animals can eat me. sounds morbid but its the only way of funeral that gives me mental piece. the sky above me, the grass underneath. not being BURNEd or BURIED in a small space. i also dont really want to be remembered, not bc i hate myself so much™ but simply bc we all return to the dirt one day and how is my dead meat better than a fox or a deer in the woods.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

shurg. see who put them there or if they are sentient talk to them? ive been seeing sleep paralysis demons since im very young so as long as theyre not trying to choke me fine.

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

pls make low cal/healthy food affordable for everyone. also healthcare and housing. burn pedos and animals abusers publicly at a stake. thanks for listening.