#feeling tired? in pain? dizzy? try Sitting down on the ground. there are no negative consequences of Sitting on the ground

[aropride]

have discovered that i can just sit down on the ground whenever i want and often people's reactions will just be "man i wish i could do that". you can. join me

[merrumeru]

Let me cheer you up even more: Graham!90 x reader

Words: 1870

Warning: nope, zero

The room was dark. The only light that could enter the room was the glow of the stars and of the tiny moon in the night sky. I was surrounded by silence as the last song on the vinyl record ended twenty minutes early. I had no desire or humor to get out of bed and change it. I focused on my slow and deep breathing. It was supposed to help me calm down, but it didn't work for me. My eyes were fixed on a distant point in the sky. I felt as if I was sinking into my anxiety. But I couldn't understand why. My life was going in quiet rhythm, I had a roof over my head and someone who cared for me. However, the thought of the future made me panic. Looking at friends who knew what they wanted to do in life, at Graham and his thriving career…I was stalled. I couldn't find a place for myself or this one thing that would be my passion. Graham always said that everything is fine with me, that I will somehow put my life in order. That he, my age, was also feeling lost. Still, the thought of working or continuing my studies scared my in the deep of heart. If I can't see my future myself, so does it even exist? I covered myself with the duvet. From head to toe, as if I was going to disappear. I promised Graham I would wait for him tonight. We'll watch a movie and eat something good. But suddenly I lost my desire for anything. I wanted to fall asleep and wake up in a much better mood. I suspected it was almost 10pm and Graham would be back from the band rehearsal soon. 

I heard the key in the door twist. The hit of his backpack on the ground and the sound of shoes being taken off. „Love I’m back”. The mellow voice of Graham sounded so happy. But I was about to ruin it all. On the one hand, I wanted to tell him how hopeless I felt, on the other hand, I preferred not to put stress on him at home. I didn't want to be a sad part of his life, I was supposed to help and encourage him. Graham was more delicate than I was and much more concerned about everything. I didn’t want the negative emotions and stress which he felt through a lack of privacy and high expectations soaking into his heart also in our home. So I pretended to be asleep.

I heard him slowly approaching the bed. He probably didn't expect to find me sleeping. I heard his soft laugh. „Y/N why you always decide to miss the best fun. Okay. I'll put the food in the fridge and lie down too.” 

„I’m awake”. I turned to face him. It was dark enough in the room that I could only see his silhouette.  

„Did something happened?” I heard his voice suddenly turn serious. I knew that he suddenly felt tensed, as if I was about to say that some kind of disaster had happened. I was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. „You are sick? Did something unpleasant happen to you at university? Sorry to be late, but you didn't call so I thought everything …”

„No! No Graham, everything is ok. I’m just tired” I stopped in the middle of a sentence, a lump that appeared in my throat blocked all words. „You will be angry if we put our romantic evening in another evening, or day, or  whatever?”

„Hey, who do you think I am. Of course it's not a problem baby.” I felt the bed on his side slowly bend under the weight of his body. Graham put his hand on my head and lightly stroked my hair. „I'm just worried. You've been sad for a while and I don't know how to help you.” I stretched my hand toward him and squeezed his hands tightly. „Your voice is so weak, yet your grip is still hard”.The moonlight illuminated his face and a shy smile. His thumb gently caressed the back of my hand.

„Nothing happens. I've just had bad days lately. You know, life is too much to handle for me sometimes.” 

„You can always tell me about anything Y/N. I don't want you to feel lonely in difficult times.” Graham released my hand. He took off his hoodie and tossed it next to the bed. After a moment, he was lying next to me, pressing me tightly to his chest. „God, why are you so emotionally unavailable. Will you ever stop being a mystery to me?” He placed a few kisses on my hair. I put one leg on his hip and gripped his T-shirt tighter. I wanted to blend in with his skin.

„I love you so much Graham. I don't know how to express it all.” His heart was beating fast. He radiated a warmth that I missed so much. I could wear a hundred sweaters, be surrounded by several heaters while sitting on one of the sunny beaches, and nothing would warm my heart and hands more than his inner warmth. 

„You don't have to show it or look for ways to express it. Just trust me and let me understand you.” His hand rested on my bare thigh, which I got on his hip.He used his finger to paint little circles. I brought my mouth close to his and kissed him softly. One sloppy stroke of the lips, but right after that a second time, much deeper and passionately.

He pulled me towards him so that I was suddenly on top of him. Our lips hardly detached.I felt hotter and hotter, as if all the accumulated emotions had suddenly burst forth and like a wave and found their way out. I felt dizzy, all my bad thoughts disappeared like clouds after the storm. Graham's hands got under my shirt and rested on my bare back. I opened my eyes and broke off the kiss. I straightened up, staring deeply into his eyes. Graham lowered his hands to my hips and gripped them tightly.

„You have such a handsome face, bastard. We both started laughing. „Handsome, talented… you are made to be star.” I pinched his cheek that he grimaced slightly, small lines forming on his nose.„And these crowds of female fans undressing you with their eyes.”

„I'm just looking for the eyes of one girl in this crowd. And I don't have to undress her with my sight. She does it by herself when we are at our home.” Graham straightened his glasses and rose to his elbows.”I just hope that she listen carefully to my words and will follow them. After all, with me, she doesn't have to be afraid of anything.”

He tucked a few locks of hair behind my ear and placed a hand against my cheek. My head rested on it. „Y/N just take it all easy. You are good enough at what you do right now. Life is not only about challenges. Sometimes there are occasions that come by themselves. Whatever it may be, I will try to be always by your side.” I wanted to cry and didn’t know if it was more of sadness or pure happiness and peace that overwhelmed me. 

“When did you get so mature? Two years ago, you wouldn't have been giving me such deep advice, just trying to make me laugh or whatever. Where's my baby boy gone?”  I smiled at the memories of the beginning of our relationship.  Even though Graham is three years older than me, I have always had the tendency to mother him. His delicacy combined with shyness and frequent confusion made me place my whole heart in his hands. I loved watching him do what he loves and his hard work was paying off.

“You have a great influence on me. I doubt if I could mentally handle this without you.” Graham's eyes were on me as I got up from the bed.”Where are you going love?”

“You don't even know how much I feel like having tea.” I stretched gently because my whole body was asleep and put on his hoodie that was lying on the floor. ”I'll do one for you too. You can easily go take a shower. When I'll come back, let's stay in bed, we've been doing it much too rarely lately”. 

Graham chuckled and get up without one word. Before I left the room,I looked out of the corner of my eye as he took off his shirt. I bit my lower lip. His body was lean, not very muscular. It pained me that he couldn't see how handsome he was. His broad-shouldered silhouette, bathed in the darkness of the night, made me want to approach him, hug him tightly and kiss his back. Graham turned to face me and tossed the shirt in his hand at me. „Don’t peek! You were supposed to make tea hmmm?”

„Oh c’mon mr.She Coxon. I won't give you back this shirt.” 

„Just like my hoodie?” I saw him shift the weight from one leg to the other and cross his arms over his chest. 

„What is this slander towards me, Coxon?” I stuck my tongue out at him and, without waiting for an answer, disappeared into the darkness of the hall.

When I returned with two cups, Graham was waiting for me. The room was lit now by a single lamp in the corner of the room. His hair was still wet, he was wearing sweatpants but still no shirt. The towel hung loosely around his neck.  Graham flicked through the vinyl records, humming some tunes. Eventually he settled on one and put it in the adapter. I put the tea on the bedside table and lay down, trying to guess what music was about to start playing.

Graham positioned himself between my legs so that his head rested on my stomach.I gently stroked his thick, still wet hair. "God, I don't know how I'll survive these two months without you Y / N”. His hands wrapped around my torso.”Fucking hell”.

“You can always lie like this with Damon.” Graham turned his head abruptly, his chin gently digging into my stomach.

“This is a bloody bad idea. Where do you get such strange ideas from”

“I am not the one who has a deep male friendship. Straight fact, baby. I watched a program once about people in the jungle and they did weird things ...” I ran my finger down his nose.

“What the fuck, I won't be in jungle, in fact we even won't be in village. We're not going to a survival camp.” 

“You never know Graham. What if the plane will stuck on a desert island, or the bus will be unable to leave the forest?”

“Maybe let's not go that far. Let's go back to why I'm going to miss you, your body, your words and just being here.” Graham pulled himself to meet my lips.

“But the the-...”

“It won't get the legs and come out by itself. Let me cheer you up even more.”

[mikasaluna]

生きていたんだよな

⚠ WARNINGS：potentionally triggering content ! graphic suicide descriptions ! self harm ! dark content !

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY.

「 Keep in mind your triggers and do not engage if it will provoke negative emotions. You are responsible for your own actions. 」

♥️

notes：gender neutral pronouns, angst, fluff (kind of?), 1,640 words

If you need help I recommend posting on r/suicidewatch or searching for your area’s local suicide helpline using ctrl+f on the following wikipedia page.

♥️

A/N：Also, I didn’t realise until now as I’m writing the tags, that most people spell Kuroo’s first name as “Tetsuro” without the “u”. I wrote it differently because that’s just the direct Japanese spelling and I didn’t know. Sorry about that.

Haikyuu!! / ハイキュー!!

Kuroo Tetsurou 黒尾鉄朗 

Kaji, hatsu, mame. Kaji, hatsu, mame. Kaji, hatsu, mame. You repeated the radicles to yourself as you wrote out the character over and over, feeling the muscle memory in your wrist kicking into gear. Your head was throbbing, hundreds of kanji readings swimming around in your mind. Now more than ever, the pressure of growing up had began to weigh down on you like a pile of bricks. Trying to make sense of all the pre-set rules in your life was difficult enough as it was, but just trying was never good enough. Nothing ever was. For every happy person in the world, there had to be an opposite, there had to be a person like you. It was pathetic. You were so damn pathetic. 

Your relationship with your mother, who’d left Japan to raise you all on her own, was hanging by threads. Could you really blame her though? Your grades had been falling steadily over the semester, and the scholarship which you’d worked so hard for was slipping through your fingers. You’d given up on yourself, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d given up on you too. The things that used to be so easy, laughing together at your little wooden dining table, became so far away, every night like a video tape stuck on repeat.

一体何を思ってるんだろう！バカの？

“What the hell are you thinking! Are you stupid?”

Why should you care? Maybe things would be easier if you just let your life fall to pieces. Maybe once you had nothing left to hold on to, you could finally break free. Maybe all this time, all you ever were was stupid. 

わかんない。

“I don’t know.”

You were lying through your teeth. Of course you knew. You were stupid for ever believing in all the things that made your life worth living, because they didn’t mean a thing at all. Locking yourself in your room, like you always did, isolating yourself. Too craven to face your problems, too tired to care. I can’t do this anymore. You’d been wandering through life aimlessly for so long. Searching for something, anything; waiting for that reason to come into your life, like every other person was insistent it would. Forcing yourself through each and every day, waiting and waiting; but it was time you realised, that reason never really existed at all. It was just another lie people told themselves, to try and make sense of their own existence. You were sure they knew as well as you did now, somewhere deep in their hearts, that their lives, your life, was just another figure on the chart. Another meaningless statistic. Your thoughts were racing, clogging up your brain and threatening to spew out of your mouth. You pulled your diary out from under your pillow;

’Thursday, 24th of December’

「Today’s a special day, isn’t it? I don’t know if I’ll be around for Christmas this year, that’s okay, it was never really my thing anyway. 

お母さん、ごめんなさい。いま、離れなくちゃダメだ。　　」

“Okaa-san, I’m sorry. I have to leave you now.”

With that, you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d been thinking about this day longer than you could bear, drafting your final words over and over in your head. But when it came down to it, was there really a right thing to say?

Grabbing your grey hoodie, you plugged some headphones into your i-pod. You’d figured that leaving your phone behind was a better idea, it meant that no one could call or track you. You’d do it right, and this time you’d make sure not to wake up ever again. Reaching the pavement outside, you began moving along you streets. You walked slowly, taking the time to look along the streets one last time. It was almost nostalgic, dream-like in a sense. The urban road you grew up  which you had never payed much mind, was calming. For once in a long time, you felt truly at peace.

There was a parking building nearby, one which your Okaa-san often parked in. It was tall and old, reaching 7 storeys into the sky, surrounded below by solid, grey asphalt. This was it. In the elevator ride to the top floor your heart was beating hard in your chest, thoughts so loud you thought they’d grow out of your mind and become real. You couldn’t allow yourself to look back now.

Standing by the ledge of the building, you looked out over the city, and wondered if anybody could see you up there. What would they think of you, somebody who’d throw their life away so easily? Hitting play on your i-pod, 生きていたんだよな (ikiteitandayona) by あいみょん (aimyon) began to play. The lyrics were tragic and bittersweet, but the rhythm made your adrenaline pump. You teetered even closer to the building’s edge, legs wobbling. The height made you feel dizzy as you peered down off the drop, and all the way down to the pavement below. But not for a second did you feel scared.

冷たいアスファルトに流れるあの血

♩ ‘On the cold asphalt, their blood flows.’

赤さが綺麗で綺麗で

♩ ‘That red is beautiful, beautiful.’

How long would you fall? You thought, sitting down and swinging your legs over the side of the building. You almost wanted to laugh. It reminded you of all those times you had snuck onto the school roof with your classmate in high school, what was his name again? Kuroo? Right, Kuroo Tetsurou. On the last week of school while you were skipping last period maths together, you had convinced him to smoke a joint with you right there on the roof. Those were the final memories you had ever made together, since you’d each left for different universities. Why were you thinking of him now, of all times?

最後のサヨナラは他の誰でもなく

♩ ‘Their last goodbye,'

Standing up, you leaned back and looking out over the view, one last time.

自分に叫んだんだろう

♩ ‘screamed to nobody but themself.’

You took a breath in, deep enough to feel your lungs burn. Tears stung at your eyes, but you bit them back and closed your eyes. Part of you wished you could fix this all, but you didn’t know how. You didn’t have the energy to try and make things better.

鳥になって 雲をつかんで

♩ ‘becoming a bird and grabbing the clouds’

Shuffling your toes over the edge, you had made the decision in your head.

風になって

♩ ‘becoming the wind...’

Your muscles relaxed, and you allowed yourself to fall off of the edge.

“WAIT-!” You heard a scream for a split second, a hand grabbing hopelessly at the back of your hoodie as you began to descend. It was too late now. The wind in your ears blocked out the voice yelling from above, muffling the sound. It was strangely tranquil here, floating down off the the 7th floor, the clearest your head had felt in months. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but wonder.

Was this the right choice?

Finally, the concrete embraced you as your body slammed into the ground.

[This artwork does not belong to me. I saved it to my laptop a long time ago and now I can’t find the source, if you know the artist please send me a message so I can credit properly.]

________________________________________________________________

Your eyes fluttered open and bright white light flooded your vision.

Where the hell am I?

Everything hurt. Your head was pounding and your mind was fuzzy. Cotton sheets lay underneath your aching body and a mess of black hair lay beside you. Someone was sitting on a chair next to the bed, his cheek resting on your arm, shoulders rising and falling slowly in his sleep.

“Tetsurou?” Your voice came out broken and hoarse. 

He lifted his head slowly, eyes red and swollen, had he been crying? 

“W-where am I?”

“We’re in the hospital,” he said shakily “the firefighters caught you when you fell.”

The memories came flooding back. That’s right, you jumped. So, that wasn’t the ground you felt back then? Your head was filled with questions, but you weren’t sure where to start. He probably thought you were pathetic too, but part of you was just so happy. Happy you were alive to see him again. Kuroo had to be the only friend who ever really understood you and your stupid humor, having him there reminded you of that. Maybe it had impacted you more than you realised, not having a single person at uni who really got you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He uttered quietly from beside you.

“Tell you what, Tetsurou?” You looked over, sitting up steadily. His eyes were filled with pain.

“I was so scared, why didn’t you tell me what was going on!” Kuroo covered his face with his hand, but you could still see the tears falling onto his lap as he spoke. “I-I love you, you know that right? I still love you, and I would do anything... so why the hell didn’t you come talk to me!” His confession was broken and hurt, but it made your stomach twist. You couldn’t even understand it yourself, why you felt like this.

“What was I supposed to say? I’m pathetic, I don’t have any other reason.” It was true. Compared to most people, your life was easy. You had a family, a home, friends, education. What reason did you really have? To try to end your life, to be unhappy at all.

“I don’t care about that, just please... don’t leave me again.” It was the first time you’d ever heard Kuroo being so serious, and it almost scared you. Tears were stinging in your eyes at his words. You felt his big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a safe, warm hug as your tears stained his shirt. Were you really so oblivious that you never realised how he felt about you?

“O-okay... and, Tetsurou?” 

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

[obxdrewseph]

Hard to Love - Rafe Cameron

Description: Pushing away people came easy to you. You pushed away your friends when they urged you to get out more and you pushed away your family when they urged you to eat more. You felt like a burden to everyone and you didn’t want that. You were hard to love with your harsh attitude and pickiness. Once Rafe Cameron, your new friend and classmate, tries to convince you to give him a chance, you wonder what it would mean to be a girlfriend-- someone who gives love and receives it... you wonder: are you even capable of being loved? 

so this is sort of a continuation of High Maintenance, but also can be read as a standalone? I thought it would be interesting to explore the romantic relationship that didn’t get to develop in that fic ... so here ya go! :D

--------

Being your friend was hard, but being your boyfriend was much harder (not that you had one yet, just for future reference). 

Being your friend was hard because you cancelled plans last minute because of chronic pain/aching or because you were going through a depressive episode that made you unable to socialize. 

No one talks about the mental side of physical pain. 

Trust me, you wouldn’t be nice either if you were hungry half of the day and in pain the other half. 

You didn’t want your diet to define you, yet it was like you revolved your entire life around your meal times. 

You pushed your friends away who wouldn’t do enough research on your condition. You obviously didn’t expect them to look up everything about it, but when they gave you food you couldn’t eat or asked you to go on hikes you couldn’t trek without feeling dizzy (or even fainting), you couldn’t help but distance yourself. 

You didn’t want to share all your negativity with them; they didn’t deserve that. 

You were used to being the rock of your group; not exactly the mom friend, but the happy, funny friend everyone went to for a laugh or to have fun. You weren’t the one with problems. You didn’t get to be that person. 

You didn’t want to be that person. 

“I’m a fucking idiot!” You shouted at no one in particular.

“We know!” 

You glared at the girl standing in the hallway who happened to be your best friend and your house mate. You and 3 other girls decided to stay in apartment together for your freshman year and you never regretted your decision. You could never live in the dorms with people making noise all day and night. 

You were already agitated all the time. 

“Go away, Ames.” 

The girl sighed. 

“I made some rice krispies. Do you want some?” 

Yes.

“No. I’m not hungry.” 

That was a lie. 

“Ok, well then why are you so upset today?” 

You paused, wondering if you should confide in her. Despite you guys being best friends, you never truly felt like you could confide in anyone. It was a fucking miracle that you spilled so much to Rafe Cameron, a boy you never thought would become one of your best friends. You honestly thought he would leave you the second you got off that wooden bench, yet you two hang out all the time.

You decided to give her a lighthearted version of what you were feeling.

“I’m not it’s just... random question: am I high maintenance?” You asked finally.

The girl snorted. 

“Yeah, everyone knows that.” 

Your heart sank. You were starting to hate that joke. You knew you had a lot of dietary restrictions and people had to work around what you ate, and before you didn’t mind that, but now you hated when people did that for you. 

You just wanted people to stop asking you out to eat or asking you to hang out. You just wanted people to leave you alone. 

“Fuck you.” You said laughing, it was fake. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Whatever, is that all you wanted to ask?” 

“Nope, I wanted to ask are you still having your bachorlette party next Saturday?”

“Yup, you better be there! No ditching me for whoever old lady author you wanted to see.”

You bristled at her harsh tone and flinched when she slammed your door shut so that you couldn’t argue with her. 

You heard her soft footsteps fade away which allowed you to slip back into your negative feelings. 

All you could think about is that if your best friend didn’t even want to deal with you or fully understand you, how could anyone else? 

---------

“Hello~ Earth to y/n?”

A black line skitted across your face, snapping you out of your trance. You swatted at the pencil floating in front of your face with an angry look.

You were currently in the library, working hard on your essay that seemed like it would never end.

“What do you want?” You snapped.

You were in the middle of focusing your attention on a small dot at the back of the room. You did this to try to take your attention off of the discomfort in your stomach. You wouldn’t exactly call it pain, but it didn’t feel great.

The poor boy’s eyes drooped at your anger.

“Um, sorry you just were spacing out.”

“Well, don’t interrupt my space outs.”

“Got it.”

Why were you being so mean? You never were like this before you got diagnosed. You were so irritable all the time and felt anger build up in you faster than expected.

It wasn’t fair to the boy sitting across from you.

Rafe Cameron.

The boy was dedicated, you could give him that.

You didn’t expect much from the obviously Southern boy who sat next to you in a Shakespeare class. You felt like you were sitting on pins and needles until Rafe started talking to you; you didn’t know why you took a male-dominant class. You weren’t used to talking to guys so often, but you wanted to push yourself. Get out of your comfort zone you embraced so much in high school.

After he apologized for being a dick about eating standards, you easily started to fall for him a bit more.

But that didn’t matter.

His feelings wouldn’t last.

They never did.

“Um, are you okay?” Rafe finally said. You wanted to snap at him once again, but when you saw his concerned blue eyes, you lost your bite. 

You forced a smile. “I’m fine, just a bit tired.” If you had a nickel for every time you gave that excuse, you’d be a billionaire.

“Oh, then we should finish here.”

“No!”

You said abruptly. He lifted a brow.

“No?”

When he saw your face turn a soft pink color, his eyes lit up and he softly bit his lip. He knew what he did to you.

“Um... no, it’s ok. I can still study. I’m ... I’m mostly just upset because I wanted to go to this book signing that’s like a week from now, but I have to go to my friend’s bachelorette party. I really love this author, but I won’t get to see her and she rarely goes on tour... But it’s fine, I’ll get over it and studying helps me keep my mind off things.” You shrugged. 

Yes, your friends were getting married that young. You simultaneously loved and hated your friends. You seemed to always be dropping things you loved for them, but you knew they wouldn’t do the same for you. 

Your friends were great to live with, harder to be friends with. Plus, two were avid bakers and another was an aspiring chef. You hated all of the temptations of their baked goods. 

He laughed at your nerdy confession which rubbed you the wrong way. He stopped laughing when he saw your dark expression.

“Sorry, I was only laughing because I totally get that. There are some authors that just leave an impact on you and you would die to meet them. And plus, those parties are lame. All they do is drink and drink and drink, which you can’t do because it’s not on the low fodmap diet.” 

Well, boy definitely did his research. 

“Exactly! Finally, someone who understands.” You turned your head away so he wouldn’t see you blush-- it wasn’t because you were shy, but it always happened when you got excited about something. 

He nodded and saw your head wobble. A sharp pain fluttered through your head. You probably needed to eat something. 

“Are you... hungry?” The boy said hesitantly.

This got you in the mood to be mean again.

“No, I’ll tell you when I get hungry, Rafe.”

The bite in his words made him move away from you. You hated this. You wanted someone to comfort you, but you pushed everyone away.

Self-sabotage was your middle name.

--------

You felt a warm hand softly tap your shoulder. 

“Library closes in less than 10 minutes.” Rafe whispered to you. 

Shit, I fell asleep. 

You lifted your head and saw the once full library empty out. 

“Shit. I fell asleep.” You said your thoughts. 

Rafe chuckled. God, you loved his laugh so much.

“Yeah, I know. You look cute when you sleep.” 

You smiled, but can’t believe you fell asleep in public. You weren’t the type to let your guard down so easily. When did you get this tired? When did you become this weak?

You felt your stomach rumble silently, signaling your hunger. 

“Um, do you wanna get out of here and get some food?” 

You began to say no, but he stopped you.

“Ok, let me ask that once again, do you want to get out of here and I can cook you food?” 

You felt anxiety build up in your chest. You never trusted other people to cook for you. You had this irrational fear that people would deliberately try to sabotage your meals, but truly people just didn’t know what you can and can’t eat. 

“Uh... you know.”

“Yes, I know, strict diet. I’ll look it all up to be safe.” 

You were going to say no, but you wanted this so badly. You just wanted to hang out with a really cute and nice guy without feeling abnormal. It was almost 11pm, but you weren’t going to pass up the chance to hang out with him.

“Ok, take me to your place.”

-------

His apartment was dark and organized. You tried not to laugh at the display of books on the ground... you definitely needed to get him a bookshelf. 

“Do the books feel better on the ground or something?” You teased. 

“Yup, they need their sleep too.” 

He nudged you on the shoulder to let you know he was joking. 

“Oh, and watch the hiking supplies. I went last weekend and haven’t had time to clean it up since I’m going on Sunday again.” 

Hiking... 

“You like to hike?” 

The boy nodded, his face brightening. “Yup, I’m an outdoorsy kind of guy. Love hiking, going to the beach, sports, all that jazz.” 

You nodded, not relating to any of that. 

You looked around, but realized there were only two doors, and one leading to the bathroom. 

“Oh, you live alone?” 

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously.

“Yeah... is that ok?” He asked softly. 

Yes, yes, it’s more than ok.

“Of course! It’s just I don’t know many sophomores who live alone.” 

What you meant to say is you didn’t know many sophomores who could afford to live alone. JJ always joked about Rafe being rich, but you weren’t aware of the extent of his wallet. 

He chuckled. “Yeah well, it’s easier to focus on my studies this way. No distractions.” 

You nodded. You would live alone if you could afford it. 

“Got it. Perfect for the ladies too, right?” You winked. 

Rafe choke on air. You enjoyed flustering the usually confident Mr. Cameron. 

“God, um, I don’t know how to respond to that.” 

You shrugged. “Can’t deny the facts.” 

He gave you a gentle look. “Y/n, you’re the first girl I’ve had in here since my last girlfriend.” Your jaw dropped.

“Really? You haven’t had a single girl in here for... a month?” 

“Unless you count my little sister, then yup.” 

“How does a guy as hot as you not bring a single lady friend here for over a month?” He let out a strangled laugh.

“You think I’m hot?” 

“I know you’re hot. And you know you’re hot.” 

The pink blush that formed on his face made you want to run over and kiss his cheeks. 

But friends didn’t do that. 

“Well, I guess... I guess I’ve been waiting for the special girl to come along.” 

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“Yes, I’m the most special girl in your life, right?” You teased, trying to be nonchalant about the tension in the room. 

He just smiled at you. 

“So! What are you cooking?” You said, changing the subject. 

This distracted him. “Well, I have leftovers from yesterday... I have rice noodles with chicken broth--”

“Um, I can’t eat pre-made chicken broth.” You interrupted before he could get too excited. Thankfully, you hadn’t gotten your hopes up about eating much at his place. People could rarely accommodate to your needs. 

“Oh don’t worry, I made the chicken stock last night with... a real chicken. So it’s not out of a box.” He opened his fridge and you saw a cooked chicken that was sitting there. “See?” 

You paused and evaluated the situation. 

“So... you made chicken pho?” You said blankly. 

He blushed. “Yeah, yeah I did.” 

You thought back to that night. That night when you confessed to him your deepest and insecurities. 

You yelled at him about how you basically only ate Asian food exclusively. 

“Did... Rafe... Ok, if I didn’t know any better, I would say that you expected me to come over today. Unless you just happened to have IBS friendly food.” 

You were joking, well half-joking. You guys always met on Thursday nights to study, so he knew you would be hanging out then. You hated the excitement and fondness filling in your chest; it would be only a matter of time before you pushed him away. Or until he left. Whichever came first.

His face was red now. “Um, I may have anticipated it.” 

Oh God, your heart was so full right now. You didn’t even want the food anymore, you just wanted him. 

But he had put great effort into this. You had to eat it.

“Thank you.” You whispered. 

He shrugged off your words. “It’s no biggie, I know I see you Thursdays and we always study pretty late.” 

You set the table while he dipped the noodles in water to cook them. He made two bowls, one being larger than the other. He remembered that you rarely ate big meals. 

As soon as he set your food down, you realized he had to watch you eat. And you had to make conversation while eating. You hated talking and eating. 

And you got a lot of gas while you ate. Shit. This was a bad idea. 

You pushed those thoughts aside and took a sip of the soup. 

It was amazing. 

“This is really good.” 

He smiled widely. “Thanks, I tried my best.” 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to talk much while you ate. The TV served as a good distraction to that. When you finished your bowl, you waited for the pain to hit you. You felt your stomach gurgle around and you clenched your fists to avoid the pain. 

You had good and bad stomach days. Some days you could go the whole day without feeling any pain, but then you had days where you ate any food and felt a mild discomfort and had to lay in bed. 

You felt a mild discomfort, but it faded quickly enough. Thank God, a good stomach day.

After you both finished eating, Drew put both the bowls in the sink. You tried to do the dishes, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Thanks for the meal again.” You said, anxious to leave.

It wasn’t eating that was the worst part of IBS, it was the anxiety afterwards. You were always nervous that your stomach would flare up hours after you eating, which it sometimes did if you ate something not IBS friendly. 

“You’re always welcome here.” 

You checked your phone. “Um, it’s getting late. I should go.” You turned to leave, but he caught your wrist softly. 

“Wait, y/n.” 

You stopped and turned to face him. He looked nervous as he was still holding your hand gently. 

“Yeah?” You tried to say casually, but you were now extremely anxious for a reason besides food.

He let go of your wrist to brush his fingers through his hair. You loved his messy hair. 

“Um, ok, well... ok I’m just gonna say it.”

“Say it then.” You said out of habit. He glared at you, but you knew he didn’t mean it.

“Fine, well, you’re... you’re really fun to hang out with. Do you want to... go out with me sometime?” 

“We go out together all the time.” You said stupidly. 

He let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah but... like ... as a date.” 

Your heart stopped. 

“A date.” 

“Yes, a date, if you want.” 

A date? What could you both possible do on a date? You hated eating at restaurants, you can’t go hiking or backpacking because who knew when your symptoms would pop in and you were stuck on a mountain with no bathrooms and nowhere to sit. Not to mention, you didn’t eat much so you got lightheaded easily. You weren’t compatible. You would just be a burden to him. 

“y/n?” You almost forgot you were in the middle of a conversation.

You looked up at his pretty blue eyes that were full of hope. You couldn’t do this to him. You couldn’t hold him back like that.

“I... I’m sorry, Rafe... I can’t.” His face fell. “You’re an awesome guy, I swear to God you’re the best guy I’ve ever met. But... you just... we’re just... we’re just different.” 

That was a cop out answer and you knew it. 

“Different.” He echoed. 

You nodded. 

He paused, like he was wondering whether to keep talking to you or just kick you out. You wouldn’t blame him if he chose the latter. 

He then laughed bitterly. 

“That’s bullshit, y/n and you know it.” 

His harsh answer stunned you.

“What are you talking about?” You bristled. Now you were irritated.

“Oh, c’mon, you know I like you, and I know you like me. You can’t ignore what we have.” 

“We’re just friends, Rafe. Just friends.” 

“But I want more.” He said sadly. 

You were on the brink of tears too. 

“I do too.” You blurt. 

“Then why-”

“Because Rafe! You want to go out and do things. You want to treat your girlfriend like a princess-- you’ve said that to me before. And you just can’t do that for me because it’s not possible.

He scoffed. “What do you mean by that? You think you’re undeserving of love? Are you trying to say ‘it’s not you, it’s me’?” He was angry, and he had a right to be. You were running him in circles and you felt bad. 

“That’s not it! I just--” You felt your legs becoming weak, you could never stand for too long, especially in a heated conversation like this. 

“Y/n? Do you need to sit down?” 

You nodded as he was already guiding you to his couch. 

“Finish what you were saying earlier.” He said softly. God, you hated how kind he was to you even during an argument. You were trying to push him away!

“Right, well, I don’t think I’m undeserving of love, but it’s too hard to love me.” 

“What does that even mean?”

“It means, you don’t know how to love me! You can’t take me on dates-- I hate eating at restaurants which is a normal date, so you can cross that off your list of fancy dinners or whatever. I can’t go hiking because what if my stomach starts to hurt on the mountain? And you just fucking saw me getting woozy standing and talking for you too long while arguing. I’ll just be a burden to you.” 

He grabbed my hands and forced me to look at him. 

“Listen to me. You will never, ever, be a burden to me. Got that?” 

His voice was low and pained, like it hurt him for you to think about yourself like that. You didn’t need his pity so you pulled away from his hands.

“You don’t deserve someone who can’t do all the things you love.” 

“Relationships are all about compromise, y/n. I can do those things with my friends.” 

You shook your head.

“Rafe, you’re a great guy. Too good if I might add. And I’m so picky about everything. When I’m mad at you one day and you want to make it up to me, you can’t buy me chocolates or ice cream or whatever. For anniversaries, you can’t just take me out to a fancy restaurant. There might be a day where you run out of tricks and you’ll realize how hard it is to love me.” You laughed bitterly. 

“I can learn what makes you feel good. I can learn how to love you--”

“You can’t learn how to love me! I don’t even know how to love myself!” You shouted. 

A deafening silence washed over the room. 

I don’t even know how to love myself.

The honesty in your own answer made you cry.

How could anyone love you when didn’t even know how to love yourself? You didn’t even know how to make yourself happy. You didn’t know how to spoil yourself. You lived your life just to get by. 

How sad. 

“I’m sorry Rafe, I just can’t do this.”

This time, he just nodded. 

He’d already given up.

----------

Around two weeks had gone by since Rafe asked you out and you embarrassed yourself. You had never been the type to be so negative or so insecure. You hated what you had become. 

You hated how you felt some sort of relief when Rafe let you go. He grabbed you an uber and you went home. 

You both were ignoring the obvious conversation that needed to happen, but it was better this way. You were back to being the chatty girl in his English class and he was back to being the guy who laughed at all of your jokes. Normal. Everything was back to normal. 

“Sup, y/n, how’s it goin’?” 

You tried not to look surprised as JJ Maybank said hi to you. 

You two weren’t exactly friends, but you were friendly to one another. Yes, he could be a dick sometimes, but he was clueless about it.

“Oh hey, it’s going good so far. How about you?” 

“He and his ‘girlfriend’ got into a fight yesterday and needs advice.” Pope blurted. You tried not to laugh at the bluntness of his friend. 

JJ hit the boy. “Dude!”

“Hey, she was going to figure it out soon enough. You can’t shut up about it.” Their banter was always fun to watch. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Rafe asked when he sat down. 

“JJ got into a fight with his ‘girlfriend’”. You made sure to use the same air quotes like Pope. 

“Yes, thank you for embarrassing me further.” You shrugged. 

“It’s not like Rafe knows her.” 

JJ sighed and adjusted his hat to hide his tired face. 

You grew soft on the poor guy. “What kind of advice do you need, JJ?” 

JJ looked at you with sad eyes, but hopped right into his story. 

“Well, so this girl I’m into, she’s this big city girl. Grew up in Los Angeles, and you know me, I grew up in a small town in Alaska. We’re just so... different. She likes doing all this city girl stuff like going to the malls and just walking around a crowded town which is so different from me who didn’t even have a big mall where I was at and you could walk miles without running into another person. 

“I just don’t know how to keep up with her all the time... and she’s rich so she has to go to these fancy events. She told me I had to dress up if I wanted to meet her parents. 

“And she doesn’t like to be on the water ‘cause she gets seasick. And I practically lived on the water when I was in Alaska! What should I do?”

You paused, taking in his situation. 

You heard Rafe scoff. 

“Dude, it’s fucking obvious. Man the fuck up and buy better clothes and learn how to hold all of her shopping bags. Isn’t it obvious?” 

JJ nodded, like this made sense.

You nudged Rafe harshly. “What are you talking about? JJ, you guys sound really different, you have to ask yourself: do I like how I have to change myself to be with her? Am I ok with that? Am I ok with sacrificing things I love to be with this girl?” 

JJ nodded, soaking in your words. 

“Relationships are about compromise.” You rolled your eyes at these familiar words. “If you really like her, you are going to be willing to change.” 

“You shouldn’t have to change for someone else.” 

“Everyone should change, it’s good for the soul. Staying static is boring.” 

“Guys, guys,” JJ stopped you and Rafe. 

“Ok, I get both points. But, I do really like her. I’ve been pining after her for a while now and... and I don’t know, I just want to win her heart over. She’s already starting to push me away because she also doesn’t want me to change who I am. But I’m willing to put in the extra effort.”

“See? Putting in extra effort to impress the girl he likes, that’s what you should do.” Rafe commented. 

You grit your teeth. 

“I agree, JJ, you should always try to be better in a relationship. If she’s pushing you away because of her own fears, that only means you need to work harder.” Pope noted. 

“Or maybe she’s right, maybe you shouldn’t push people to make them feel like a burden to you. Maybe she just wants the best for you because she obviously knows you very well!”

“Maybe he wants to challenge himself because he wants her to feel safe and comfortable around him!” Rafe raised his voice. 

“Maybe he just wants to do that because of his ego.” You said with an equally angry tone. 

“Or maybe he wants to do that because he loves her!” Rafe slammed his hands on the desk and suddenly the room was silent. 

“Um... are you guys good?” JJ whispered, his problems now forgotten. 

--------

Because he loves her.

Loves her.

Love. 

Was Rafe still talking about the hypothetical JJ in this situation or was he talking about himself? 

Because you knew you were talking about yourself. 

Was he doing the same? 

You sprinted out of that classroom once your professor dismissed you. 

“Y/n, wait.” 

You paused outside the door. If you left, it would make you look mighty suspicious. If you stayed, then you could pretend everything was ok and that the “argument” you just had wasn’t about yourselves. 

You decided to make a run for it.

Unfortunately, Rafe jumped in front of you before you could leave. 

“Y/n, please. Talk to me.” 

“What? There’s nothing to talk about. JJ can make his own decisions. What a handful of a girl, right?” You tried to step around him, but Rafe kept blocking you. “Move-”

“We need to talk and I have a class soon. Meet me at my apartment when your classes end, ok?” 

You hesitated, but the desperation in his eyes made it hard for you to say no. 

“Ok.”

-------

Rafe’s apartment wasn’t too far of a walk from campus, plus you took the bus for part of the way. You secretly ate a bowl of rice with beef and broccoli before going just in case he didn’t have any more pho left at his apartment. 

You felt your heart beating out of control as you plucked up the courage to knock on his door.

“C’mon, you can do this.” You whispered to yourself. You raised your hand to knock, but the door flung open. 

Rafe had been back for a while since he was a morning person and finished his classes before noon. You on the other hand, finished classes at 5pm. No hate in the game, this was college. 

You took in his appearance and looked him up and down. 

He was wearing gray sweatpants with a white tank top and a red flannel over it. He looked too good right now for being casual. Fuck. 

You gulped. “Hey.” 

He gave you a tight smile. “Hey.”

You both stood there awkwardly. 

“Can I come in?”

“Oh shit, yeah, of course.” 

As you stepped into the well-lit apartment, you noticed he was sweaty; it seemed like he just got done with working out. All you wanted to do was to take off that flannel and see what he was hiding underneath. 

“Did you just come from the gym?” You asked nonchalantly. 

He raised a brow at your random question, but nodded. “Yup.”

You both stood in silence for a hot minute, the tension filling the air. You noticed his eyes trailing down your body; you knew you wore tighter clothes up top to try and impress the boy. You didn’t think it would work... but it did. 

“Oh fuck it.” You spat. His eyes grew confused at your sudden outburst, but when you took 3 large steps and grabbed his face, they widened.

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered.

“Please.”

And then you kissed him. 

His lips were soft, but his hands were rough on your body. He pulled you close enough so that your chests touched, making you groan at the contact. He deepened the kiss, teasing you with his tongue. 

“Rafe,” you chanted. You didn’t know what you were asking for, you just wanted him. 

He smiled, moving to kiss you all over your face and your neck. He smoothly pulled you into his bedroom. 

His bedroom was bare; only a bed sat in the middle and one desk to the side of it. You didn’t care, as long as there was a bed in there, that’s all that mattered.

Except you happened to miss a large box near the side of the bed that almost made you hit your head on the wooden floor. 

“Oops.” Rafe caught you before you fell.

“Sorry, I forgot to move those.”

Before he could move them out of sight, you noticed something familiar looking.

“Wait... are these--?”

“Wait-”

You picked up the box before he could stop you. You grew confused staring down at the object inside of it.

“Are these... what I think they are?” 

He ruffled his hair and nodded, trying to hide his red face. “Um, yeah. It’s... yeah.” He finished lamely.

You looked down and gently traced your fingers across the extravagant book covers. When you looked inside, they were all signed by your favorite author with a cute message. You felt tears well up in your eyes. 

“You went to the book signing.” You said numbly. 

He nodded hesitantly. He wasn’t sure how you would react. “I did...I wasn’t sure which book you liked from her so I got all 3.”

He played with the bottom of his flannel, anxiously waiting for your next move. 

You set the books down and pulled him in by his shirt. 

“Kiss me.” 

He paused, but only for a moment before he stripped off his flannel. 

Yes, finally.

He laughed. “You’ve been waiting for this to come off?” Shit, you said that out loud. 

He wasted no time pressing his lips to yours. You clung onto his neck, not being able to get close enough to him. Kissing was great, it was fantastic even. But you wanted more. You gently lifted your hips to meet his, rocking back and forth experimentally. 

He groaned at your movement. “Baby,” He whispered. 

You thought you would hate that pet name. 

You didn’t. 

“Yes?” You teased, planting little kisses on his neck, his collarbone, right under his ear. When he didn’t answer, you tugged him back down to you by his hair. 

You’re sure you had been making out for at least half an hour at this point when suddenly he lifted his head up. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

And you meant it. 

-------

You woke up in the morning with the best sleep you’ve had in years. You immediately turned to your side and saw Rafe still fast asleep. You saw his bare chest move up and down, up and down. It was hypnotic. 

You gently moved your fingers across his chest, soaking in the smoothness of it. The feeling of soft pleasure woke Rafe up. He smiled when he saw your mischievous look. 

“Good morning, gorgeous. How’re ya feelin’?” 

“Hmmm, alright.” 

He gently kissed your shoulder blade. What a tease.

“Only alright?” 

He tried to pull the blankets down to uncover your naked body, but it was the morning and you were still shy. 

You laughed at his attempts to turn you on. 

“Stop, Rafe, you horny ba-”

He then leaned in closely to you and whispered in your ear. 

“If I knew getting you books would get me laid, I would’ve done it years ago.” 

You laughed. 

“You didn’t know me years ago!” 

He gave you a crooked smile. 

“Plus, my love language is receiving gifts, so you got lucky.” 

He shrugged, but his eyes softened when he stared at you longer. 

He pulled you down for another soft kiss. You wanted more, but he pulled away before it could get too racy. 

“Told you I would learn how to love you.” 

[jacmyheroacademia]

Hanahaki Bakugo X FemReader Part Three

Writers: Jac and Zeptikye Warnings: Mentions of blood, sickness, and medication Pairing; Bakugo X Female Character All Chapters

[Hey guys! Here’s a longer chapter, sorry for the delays in posting! Also I should have a master list up for this fic sometime today! -Jac]

Katsuki was woken up by the sound of the door opening, immediately jolting himself from sleep as he didn’t recognize this room as his own. Recovery Girl set another glass of water on the nightstand next to him, setting her hands on top of each other on her cane.

“I believe that you should be able to go to class.” she said simply.

Katsuki’s eyes widened in surprise, “Oh shoot-” he muttered as he sat up quickly- “What time is it?” He asked, reaching for the glass. “An hour before Mr. Aizawa should be beginning class. However, the situation’s currently out of my hands as all I can do at this point is provide you with the medication and painkillers if you choose to take them. Since Hanahaki is a rare disease that stems from strange trauma, I cannot force you into a confession; it has to come naturally. So, I believe that you should return to your regular daily life with that kept in mind.”

Katsuki swore quietly, “alright.” he muttered simply, glancing down as Recovery girl put a small bottle of pills on the nightstand that made his heart lurch a bit and the flowers in his lungs flutter as if they knew what was coming.

He thinned his lips, his mind mulling over the different options and opting to grab the bottle of  painkillers instead. Recovering girl sighed softly but nodded, “Take two a day until you are hopefully able to confess- and never take more than that dosage alright.” she told him firmly.

Katsuki nodded, hesitating a moment before pocketing the other bottle and heaving himself to his feet to move towards the door.

“Oh- and Bakugo.” she said as she moved with him to the door, “A confession is still the easiest way to relieve the pain weighing you down. The medication is not supposed to be a permanent solution.” he paused a moment before he grunted with a nod, not hesitating any longer as he immediately jogged down the hall to head back to the dorms to get ready for class.

[Y/N] rubbed her eyes as she tied her tie, having gotten very little sleep last night. She could feel the pills recovery girl had given her begin to kick in, frowning at the heavy feeling they added. She had told Recovery girl earlier in the night that she didn’t want the pills or the surgery, but until she confessed to Bakugo Recovery girl had recommended she take the suppressant pills anyway so as to not let the rose thorn cause any further damage. She closed her eyes for a moment with a sigh, slowly picking up her backpack and trying not to allow the medication to affect her too much.

Her throat wasn't hurting as badly, but the emotional side effects were weighing on her heavily already and it hasn't even been a day. 

She sighed quietly, closing her eyes and holding a hand in her hair for a moment. “Ok…” She mumbled, running through the schedule again in her mind. She would have a period of time from just after classes to around eight p.m where the medication would wear off and she would have to take pain killers- Recovery Girl had warned that taking it any sooner would cause negative effects, but taking it a minute late and her flowers would flare up again.

She sighed as she looked at the ground … She would need to confess to Bakugo soon- she knew that the medication wasn't supposed to be permanent- but she was having trouble thinking of a situation where Katsuki would ever return her feelings. 

[Y/N] sighed, rubbing her temples. She didn't want to lose the relationship she currently had with him- she genuinely liked having him as a friend… But it seemed that option had been taken from her. It was either she confessed and he somehow miraculously accepted her- or she got surgery.

She felt tears well up behind her eyes as she stared in the mirror … How could Katsuki Bakugo ever accept feelings from someone like her?

She clenched her teeth, the numbing feeling pounding down on her body preventing any real opinion she could give.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly before finally turning to her door to leave her dorm. [Y/N] moved out of the building in what almost felt like a daze- her thoughts running blankly.

“[Y/N]- [Y/N]!” She finally heard Uraraka's voice calling to her as she stepped into UA, [Y/N]s eyes widening. “Oh! Yes? Sorry?” She asked quickly. 

She gave her a slightly sad smile, gently tapping her shoulder. “You ok?” She asked softly, [Y/N] nodding softly with a quiet smile. “Just tired, sorry.. what was it?” She murmured with a quiet smile. Uraraka shrugged, “just wanted to know if you were feeling any better” she said honestly as they walked. 

[Y/N] kept her smile on her face, shrugging. “On and off…”

Uraraka nodded, “well I hope you feel better! Recovery girl gave you some stuff to help right” She said off handedly.

[Y/N] nodded weakly, “Yeah- nothing permanent but its supposed to help.” she told her.

Uraraka nodded opening her mouth like she wanted to ask something else but they were quickly interrupted when they walked into the usual commotion of the classroom. She blinked quickly, every sound that reached her ears sounding amplified.

She grimaced painfully as she ducked her head, “sorry- I'm gonna go sit down-” she told Uraraka briefly, making her way to her seat and pulling out her headphones to hopefully block some of the noise.

Her already sensitive ears ached, her lungs following after and causing [Y/N] to screw her eyes shut and set her head on the desk. She set some soft white noise to play on her phone, hoping someone would tap her on the shoulder when Aizawa began teaching.

She kept her head down, her jaw tight and her posture stiff. She closed her eyes as she felt a deep numbness cover her sadness- it was a horrible feeling, and it was only day one.

The medication dampened her despair towards it- but [Y/N] still knew it should be there and could feel it's absence- knowing she wanted to be done with this as soon as she could.

She felt a tap on her shoulder after a few more minutes, [Y/N] pulling her gaze up blurrily. She pulled her headphones from her ears, being able to handle the noise now that it was just Aizawa speaking.

Her eyes scanned the classroom, getting caught on the back of Katsuki’s head, the angry blonde slouched in his chair as usual, [Y/N] feeling a soft tint of blush meet her cheeks as she thought about him. The comfortability of him being there actually being one of the only emotions she could feel a little deeper.

She subtly shook her head, trying again to focus on what she should be. She opened up her notebook to take a few notes on what Aizawa was saying, glancing at the short list she had made the night before of prospective ways to confess to Katsuki- recovery girl has said it might help tame the flowers a bit.

[Y/N] chewed on her lip as she read over them, huffing a small sigh. She was still so new to the idea of love, to the strange feeling in her stomach she now recognized as romantic attraction, even if it was dulled by the medication. But it didn’t change the fact that none of the ideas on the list really felt like … her- or like anything Katsuki would particularly like.

[Y/N] sighed, shaking her head as she folded the list and pocketed it- not finding anything in it that would actually help. Right now she needed to focus on her school work, she would think better about the situation with Katsuki when she wasn’t supposed to be paying attention to something else anyway.

Class seemed to drag on for two times longer than it should have, [Y/N] already tired. By the time the bell finally rang she was already feeling ready to go back to the dorms, forcing herself to sit up a bit straighter as Aizawa left the room to be replaced with Present Mic. She furrowed her brows, closing her eyes a moment and taking a deep breath- as her aching throat has caused her to breathe shallow and therefore have a moment of dizziness.

“Hey- you okay?” Momo asked in concern from behind her, Todoroki looking to her earnestly as well. “You seem really tired- if you want me to take notes for you I can.” She offered, Shoto nodding as well. 

[Y/N] forced a smile and shook her head. “I can make it, I don't want to bother you.” She murmured. Shoto seemed to see right through that excuse, giving her a piercing look that had been perfected over a year of the two of them being able to practically silently communicate. 

‘what's actually going on?’

She shrank slightly, ducking her head. She sighed, discreetly signing a miniscule response.

‘not right now.. please? I'll tell you later.’

Shoto looked concerned but nodded anyway, Momo looking between the two of them and pulling out her phone to give them at least a bit of privacy, Shoto reaching forward and squeezing her hand. 

A soft smile managed to pull it's way across her lips, [Y/N] gently squeezing back and moving her fingers up to sign a silent ‘thank you.’

Shoto nodded, offering a miniscule smile onto his face before leaning back in his chair, [Y/N] happy to be reminded she had a friend to talk to. She sighed as she sat back in her chair, closing her eyes a moment before refocusing her brain. It was going to be a long day.

…

Katsuki growled as he stuffed his things in his backpack quickly, forcing his way past people and towards the bathroom as he felt another freaking peony try to make its way up his throat. He clenched his jaw together, silently cursing.

The day had moved excruciatingly slow as Katsuki did his best to power past his new sickness, steamrolling himself into working even harder to prove to himself he could do it. 

He grit his teeth and shook his head violently, trying to shake off the exhaustion as he stomped down the hall.

“Whoa dude- you looking even more murderous than usual.” Eijirou said as he caught up to him. Katsuki simply seethed, hiding the pain and the exhaustion with a scowl. Kirishima raised a brow but ultimately shook it off, probably just assuming Katsuki was in a bad mood. 

He managed to swallow back a few of the massive flowers- the petals immediately blocking his airflow and causing Katsuki to choke as he began to run towards the bathroom. Kirishima yelped something in surprise but Katsuki didn't hear it as he ran into the men's bathroom, stabilizing his hands on the sink and coughing violently. 

Katsuki hacked up another bout of flowers, his breathing strangled and fast as he tried to catch it again.

He took a few struggling deep breaths as he looked into the mirror, his lips stained red with blood, his face pale and dark circles under his eyes. 

He thinned his lips with a growl, ripping paper towels out of their container and ridding himself of the blood- doing his best to clean the sink.

The sight of the flower petals made his stomach hurt, as if his love for [Y/N] was something inherently wrong, destined to slowly torture him from the inside out … How could something so genuine turn into something so vile?

He stared at the flowers miserably as he dumped them in the trash, his lips thinning as he tried not to shiver.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad- to confess his brain tried to argue, you two are already friends, and romance is just friends with … Kissing? I guess? His brain tried to rationalize, but Katsuki shook his head, that didn't feel right- his emotions went deeper than just wanting to kiss her. 

He genuinely… cared. Cared about her safety, cared about if she was happy, cared about wanting to make her happy, cared about keeping her safe, cared about keeping her his friend… He cared about a lot of things. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening jolted him back to reality, Bakugo scowling and stepping away from the sink. He loved her … Genuinely loved her- … Why was that so freaking scary to come to terms with? 

He wiped his hands clean again and combed one through his hair, forcing air down his lungs as his brain tried to make coherent thoughts.

His stomach ached as he realized he hadn't eaten anything since the night before, Katsuki quickly scooping up his backpack from the bathroom floor to head to lunch. 

Kirishima was standing outside, leaning against the wall and biting his cheek in concern. He immediately pushed away from the brick as he saw Katsuki, falling into step beside him. The red head didn't say anything about the weird behavior, but the silence was almost more exhausting than listening to his endless jabbering. 

“Shut up.” Katsuki grumbled as they walked, Kirishima raising a brow- “I didn't-!” He tried but Katsuki interrupted him. “You're thinking too hard, idiot. Let it go.”

“I… O-ok..” Kiri replied hesitantly with a soft sigh, shuffling his feet for a second.

The two made it to the lunch room in silence, Katsuki glancing to the left as he saw [Y/N] sitting at her usual table beside freaking half and half, a sight that usually made him so upset now just being a minor numbed annoyance. 

He allowed Kirishima to guide him towards the line, sulking behind him as he examined the two. [Y/N]s hair was pulled up and away from her face, her beautiful eyes looking tired- or maybe that was just her talking to Todoroki who was almost always emotionless. 

He glowered quietly, trying to distinguish what they could be talking about, shaking his head with a snort a moment later. Katsuki made to turn his attention back to the line, yet his eyes found themselves drawn back to [Y/N] as she sat up with a sigh.

She pulled her hair loose, combing it away from her face and holding a palm to her forehead as she fisted her [hair color] locks. A [eye color] eye cracked open, a faint grin touching her full lips as she replied to whatever IcyHot had said.

Why'd she have to be so freaking gorgeous.

His cheeks immediately reddened at the thought as he reprimanded himself, he shouldn't be focusing on things like that- he wasn't one of the freaking pervs like grape head … but it was hard not to when it was her. 

It was unfair, really, how beautiful she was without realizing it- both inside and out. He growled at himself, thinning his lips as he tried again to pull his attention away.

The petals in his chest writhed like angry vines twisting around his lungs, wanting him to acknowledge his feelings. She was … Stunning. The way her hair fell, the muscles in her back, the way her figure curved so perfectly like it would fit in Katsukis arms if he could-

He stopped his thoughts there abruptly, huffing angrily and shaking his head. It was ridiculous, really- to think she could… They were just friends…

Him and Kirishima moved forward in the line, Katsuki losing sight of [Y/N] and staring at the floor.  He wasn't good with emotions, with expressing himself, being soft-spoken, quiet, kind… None of the things [Y/N] probably wanted in a partner. 

A hiss left his lips, under his breath but apparently loud enough for Eijirou to hear. He nudged him again. “Can I know what's going on now?”

Katsuki considered for a long moment, Kirishima was his friend- arguably his best friend besides [Y/N] … And maybe he knew more about this stupid lovey stuff than Katsuki did. “Let's get lunch and go to the roof… Then maybe.” Katsuki finally muttered. 

Kiri pouted for a second before he huffed, grinning softly with a nod. “Alright. You ok? It sounds like you're dying.” He joked, nudging him with his shoulder. Katsuki only grunted unpleasantly, punching him lighting in the arm.

Eijiro looked like he wanted to say something more, but Katsuki simply pushed past him to get food.

The pill bottle was in his backpack if he needed it, he had taken one of the pain killer pills a few hours ago- and Recovery girl has said he could take two if needed … but Katsuki shook his head, he didn’t like the way the medication messed with his head.

It made him more confused, if anything. Katsuki shook his head in an attempt to clear it, taking his food and sliding a chip into his mouth. Kirishima nudged him, holding up his own food. “To the roof?” he asked, Katsuki grunting and beginning to walk that direction- hoping that [Y/N] wouldn’t be mad that he didn’t eat lunch with her.

Besides not quite knowing what in the world he would say- he didn't quite think being around her without meds was a smart idea.. he didn't know what the flowers would do. He closed his eyes, sighing softly. Didn't change the fact that he was fully, hyper aware of where she was in the room and how far away he was moving.

“Dude … what’s going on?” Kirishima asked in genuine concern as they moved into the stairwell. Katsuki grunted again, simply trudging up the stairs.

“I'm sick, g*dd*mnit.” He grumbled. Kirishima’s eyes widened in surprise, “You’re what?” he said in quiet shock. Katsuki curled his lip, shooting him an annoyed look- the ever constant pain making him cranky.

“Sick. What- you deaf?” He growled, shoving his shoulder against the door to take them outside. Kirishima gave some sort of stumbled yelp as he followed after him, “Sick with what?! It’s not serious is it?” he asked  nervously.

Katsuki huffed, plopping himself down against the wall roughly. “Well I would say puking out flowers along with every other internal organ I have is at least annoying.” He snapped sarcastically. Kirishima’s crimson eyes widened in confusion. “You’re puking up what?” he asked, clarifying. Katsuki gave him a flat look, shoving a bite of food into his mouth before answering- already feeling somewhat better with the sustenance.

“I have Hanahaki, you dunce.” He mumbled. Kirishima’s eyes widened, “Oh … oh shoot.” he muttered quietly, “I didn’t think that was a real thing people actually got!” he said in shock. “What’re you gonna do about it?” he asked quietly.

Katsuki grunted as he continued eating, silently pondering how large the rock he’d apparently lived under had to be to not know what this was at the start.

“Don't know. But I ain't planning on surgery.” He murmured, uncharacteristically quiet.

Kirishima nodded, “I’ve heard the surgery is living hell …” he said, eating a bite of his food as well. “Do you know who … uhh-” he asked.

Katsuki nodded, ignoring the faintest tint of pink on his cheeks as he shoved more food in his mouth. Kirishima stayed anxiously silent for a bit before Katsuki finally found himself spitting it out, as if a part of him desperately wanted someone to confide in.

“ It’s [Y/N].” he spat after a moment. His friends blinked in startlement, sitting back for a moment before a smile split his face and he slugged his arm “Well no duh.”he joked lightly. Katsuki scoffed, “Don’t act so happy about it- … I don’t know what I’m going to do about it.” he grumbled, coughing slightly and taking a deep drink of water.

Kirishima tilted his head, propping a knee up as he leaned back against the wall. “Well, why not confess?” Katsuki turned to him with an incredulously raised brow, “Are you kidding me? And risk freaking her out and losing her friendship? No way- took way too long to earn that already.” he grumbled angrily.

Kiri shrugged. “Well you don't know that, and it doesn't have to be a big deal, you can still be friends if she says no, right?”

Katsuki shook his head, “Recovery girl doesn’t think so. She said if she doesn’t return my feelings the flowers will just keep growing.” he said, his face an angry grimace.

Eijiro furrowed his brow, biting his lip as he slowly came to the realization as to what that meant. “Oh..” Katsuki nodded, “It’s s***” he muttered, setting down his half eaten food.

He propped his knees up and draped his arms over them, ducking his head as he went silent.

“Well…” Kiri murmured quietly. “I think your best option right now is to tell her.. and we'll figure it out from there..” A growl left Katsuki’s throat as he shook his head, “You don’t get it!” he exclaimed, “It’s not as easy as just telling her-” he yelled before a rough round of coughing interrupted him, Katsuki gasping in pain.

Kirishima immediately moved to help him, Katsuki swatting him off at first until another hacking cough shook his body.

“...Well then.. Could you explain it to me?” Eijiro replied after Katsuki caught his breath.

Katsuki’s shoulders shook as he felt like he was having to break through the wall that his small dose of medication had put up in order to accurately capture his feelings.

“I just-” he coughed again, the flowers seeming to know what was on his mind. Kirishima waited patiently, rubbing his back. Katsuki growled, pushing Kirishima’s hand away. “I don’t have time for this!” he finally managed, “I’m not ready for this. I’m trying to stay on top of school, and training, and hero work. I can’t give her a decent relationship, I don’t have the time or the emotional space to give her what she deserves.” he stuttered, finally feeling like he was scraping the top of the truth.

A gentle laugh from Kirishima surprised him. “I think if you're already in the mindset of making sure she has ‘What she deserves’ proves that you already have the emotional state..” Katsuki growled, “No- you don’t get it.” he argued, the flowers in his chest squirming- “I’m not- … I wouldn’t be- …” he growled, heaving a sigh.

“If she accepts my feelings then she’ll expect us to start dating, spending time together, I’ll have to worry about her emotions and she’ll have to worry about mine. She won’t just want a highschool romance she’ll want a real meaningful relationship- and neither of us are ready to hold up that responsibility with all the other crap we’re dealing with.” heword vomited. “I … I’m not ready for that responsibility.” he finally forced himself to admit. 

Kirishima smiled ruefully, tilting his head as he set it on his knee. “But you can’t make that call for her, you don’t know what she’ll decide, not really. And that’s the entire point of talking to her, so you can figure it out between the two of you.”

Katsuki went silent at his friends annoyingly rational thinking … “It still just feels like a bunch of bull crap…” he muttered. Kiri snorted with a roll of his eyes. “Then I don’t know what else to tell you, man.”

The food on his plate had gotten cold by now, Katsuki glowering down at it as he tried to process … he knew Kirishima was right- he had no right to try to read [Y/N]’s mind or what she wanted versus what he thought she deserved … all he could tell her was the truth.

He growled a huffy breath, ducking his head in frustration with a sigh.

[hotchocolatewriting]

It’s a kind of magic #6

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Awesome drawing Villain wanted something warm. It was their first thought after they woke up beside their bed. Hero was still asleep, but not for long. Villain grinned as they got to their paws and looked at hero. The person that had been taking care of them for months now. Villain was happy with them at their side and they loved them more with the day, but that didn’t mean that they had to make it easy for hero after what they did to them.

Hero’s eyes were closed and their hair was a mess. They looked so calm, their chest rising and falling, their expression peaceful. Villain grinned as they jumped on their stomach with two of their paws. Hero startled awake and screamed in surprise.

“What?! Villain! You can’t.. okay you can, fine.” Villain made a sound that almost sounded like they were laughing and hero knew they did. They turned again and wanted to close their eyes, but villain grabbed their shirt with their teeth and pulled. ‘Come on, I want something to drink and you are to only one here who can make something for me.’ Hero seemed to have a little trouble with reading villain’s thoughts. They almost squeezed their eyes shut trying to concentrate. They yawned before they rolled their eyes.

“You want your hot chocolate?” hero asked, their voice was still a little sleepy. Villain nodded, tail slowly moving in the air. “Can I sleep for a few more minutes?” Hero pulled the blankets up again. Villain pocked them with their horns, no they weren’t going to sleep again. Villain also barely slept because of the nightmares. They wanted out, now and hero had to help.

‘Not really, now out of my bed, I need your help.’ “I can also decide not to help you, you know. I would be nice to me if I were you,” hero grinned. ‘You wouldn’t have to help me if you hadn’t turned me in the first place. It’s not completely my fault that I can’t make my own drinks or food or take a normal shower or sleep in a bed without destroying the mattress or..’ Hero sat up, their eyes had widened and they seemed a little hurt.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Just give me a few minutes, I’m coming, okay?” Hero ruffled through villain’s fur. Villain leaned into the touch. They loved it when hero did that. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that, right? I know I messed up, I was just joking, I won’t leave you alone, you need the help.” Villain smiled and rubbed their head against hero’s arm just like a cat. They were careful not to hurt hero with their horns.

‘I know,’ they thought, ‘of course I know. You’re searching for a solution every day and you tried so much already.’ It was almost once a week now that hero tried something on villain to turn them back, but so far nothing had worked. Hero read book after book, searched wherever they could, and tried everything they could think of. They were getting desperate, trying to find a way. Villain didn’t care. They hadn’t cared for a long time now. They had lost hope as soon as supervillain put them in that cage and they had turned for a reason. They were bad.

“I just wish something would work. So I could really hear your voice and not talk to you by reading your mind. I know you don’t like it.” It was true, villain had hated it so much in the beginning, but at the same time they had no problem with it. It was a way to talk with someone and now that a few months had passed, they were used to it.

Sometimes hero woke up from villain’s thoughts. Villain could be a loud thinker, especially when they were in a negative mindset. They couldn’t really help it, sometimes they still thought about supervillain and hero’s betrayal. Hero did everything to make it right and villain knew that, but the hurt was already done.

‘It’s fine, at least I can let you know what I want and what I’m thinking of.’ Villain tried to make their bed on the ground as they listened to hero getting out of theirs. “Yeah.. but some thoughts are just private and sometimes I’m not sure if your thoughts are meant for me or not. I ruined enough, I don’t want to steal your private space too.”

‘I know and I’m sorry,’ villain thought. “What are you sorry for? You did nothing wrong.” Villain tried not to think, not to let their thoughts float in their head for hero to read, but it was hard to stop and so hero could read it. Their eyes widened with every thought they read.

“You’re sorry that you made me think I had to curse you? Villain…” Hero took a few steps towards villain. Villain took a few steps back and growled angrily. ‘Stop reading my thoughts. It’s true, right? If I hadn’t been acting like that, if I didn’t hurt people, you would never have done it. I am a beast, a monster even if I would live in human form!’ With that villain walked away.

---

Hero had made the chocolate and put it in a dog bowl for villain to drink. Villain didn’t leave the carpet they were laying on. Their eyes were closed, but they could smell the hot chocolate standing a few meters away from them. They knew hero was worried and they also knew hero was secretly reading their thoughts, so they tried to hide behind a mental wall. They felt sick and didn’t want to do anything. They just wanted to be left alone.

At that moment hero left the room. Prove to villain that they had heard that thought. Villain looked at the dog bowl. The damp still rising into the air, the smell sweet, something they would have loved if they hadn’t gotten so nauseous.

A few hours had passed. Villain’s stomach hurt, just like their head. They felt tired and laid in their bed again, the soft blanket on the ground beside their old bed. It didn’t feel right. During their time with supervillain they wouldn’t have been allowed to rest. Why would they now? They were a beast, beasts didn’t sleep on nice pillows and blankets.

Villain shook their head and tried to think of something else. They could smell hero’s sent in the room, something that made them feel a little bit better. Yes, they had been arguing this morning, but hero was nice to them and cared for them. Villain still loved them for everything they did, for the conversations they had. They loved to tease hero a little and they always did the same. They had grown to be friends, maybe even more.

Villain was restless and walked towards hero’s working space. They had turned villain’s working space into a more magical one. It was now filled with books, cards, gemstones, plants, and all kinds of herbs. Villain knew that hero loved to sit here and think.

They found hero sitting behind their desk, reading through a book. They didn’t see villain coming, until villain lay their head down on hero’s lap. “Hey little friend, everything alright?” Villain closed their eyes and shook their head, which only caused more pain as their head was pounding. “Hey, villain? What’s wrong?” Hero let their hand go slowly through villain’s fur. Villain sat down and tried not to fall from the dizziness. ‘Just feeling a little sick. It Will be fine, I wanted to see you. I’m sorry about this morning.’ Hero looked at them as they let their hand rest on villain’s forehead. "Then go, sleep, you need some rest and please take the bed, it’s so much better for you then the floor." Villain shook their head and hero sighed about them being stubborn again. "You're not with supervillain anymore, if you feel sick, just sleep it off, it's alright." Hero went with them to the room. Villain refused to lay down in the bed, but hero managed to give them a warm blanket at least.

“I hope it isn’t anything too bad. I don’t know if I need to take you to a hospital or a vet when something isn’t right.” Hero stroked a few more times over their head. Villain closed their eyes, enjoying the lovely touch.

“I found something that could work, today. We will try it tomorrow, okay?” Hero said quietly. Their tone as hopeful as always. ‘Okay, but if it doesn’t work, I want you to stop trying. I don’t care anymore and I’m getting tired of all the rituals, spells, and terrible drinks. I just want to close this chapter. You can try one more time and if it doesn’t work, we stop, okay?’ Hero nodded, but villain could see they didn’t want to give it up, although they would for villain.

‘It’s okay, really, you spent whole days trying to find a way. I want you to rest and I want some rest too.’ Hero nodded again, but their sad expression didn’t change. Villain knew they didn’t want to rest until they had fixed what they had done. “Then I will make sure it will work this time. I’m not going to sleep before I’m one hundred percent sure it will work.” 

[newbornwhumperfly]

if I had an orchard...

CW: intoxication, negative self-talk, references to non-con, references to punishment, (brief) reference to vomiting 

so i’m back on my bullshit, and by bullshit I mean I wrote another spinoff fic of the GW series!!! *hides face* insp. by my own ask (lmao) https://haro-whumps.tumblr.com/post/614488313974407168/if-you-would-consider-a-very-very-drunk-galo  once again, I hope @haro-whumps enjoys!!! 

the title of this fic comes from “helplessness blues” by fleet foxes

Galo is very, very drunk. 

Well, maybe not twice very but he’s not sober, that’s for damn sure. He knows better than to try and stand now, at any rate, cause the ground keeps tilting in a funny and not-at-all scary way. Like a gentle roller-coaster. Or a see-saw. He needs to keep his eyes on the not-ground right now – probably a good idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have sat on the porch swing when he went outside to drink but, well, hindsight is…better. He giggles a little bit but it isn’t very silly and sounds all snotty, given that he’s crying and all.

He should probably stop crying.

Should is a great word. Means there’s something you ought to have done. Haven’t done yet. Are supposed to be doing.

He’s fucking everything up and he hasn’t the first clue of how to stop.

Case in point – this wine seemed like a really good idea at the time, especially after the second top-full glass had been swallowed. He’d only meant to get a bit buzzed, honest. It wasn’t healthy or wise but he found himself leaning more and more on the distraction when something inevitably crumbled around him. It was only once he’d wandered far into the realm of tipsy that he dimly wondered if getting hammered was the mature thing to do.

Fuck it, he’d decided with his big magnificent brain, and swigged straight from the bottle.

Seemed like a good idea at the time, isn’t that how the saying goes?

You’d think after all the Sunday school lessons he’d know when he was laying down paving stones on a winding trajectory straight to hell. Trying to do the right thing doesn’t mean shit when you hurt people anyway. No matter what you do, it’s gonna hurt, one way or another. Isn’t that what he’d said to himself? Giving himself an out to do whatever the fuck he wanted anyway?

Why did he get those gifts? Stroking his own ego? He didn’t mean to…but there it is. He’d wantedto do something and he just did it and dug the pit so much deeper and if he falls down and breaks his crown, well, too fucking bad, Jack. Should’ve thought of that before you went and stuck your foot in it. It’s so much worse than merely breaking his crown though, his crown was fine. He’d be fine.

He’s left them all tumbling after him. That’s the sin, the unforgivable blunder which sits on his chest. A heavy, cold, unyielding stone of guilt cramming the joy out of his lungs, pressing until his words sit sour on his tongue and every smile feels scraped hollow. He’s making it worse with his absurd self-pity, feels the taut chill of tension stretch the air thinner with every meeting.

He’d heard what they were saying. He didn’t mean to – spying on people was shitty and wrong. He’d been in the kitchen in the middle of the night and didn’t think anyone would be downstairs, ducking into the pantry at the sound of voices. If he hadn’t been so tired, he’d have thought better of it. What else is new? He’d have thought better of a lot of things.

What he’d heard between Nyla and Sasha and Evan was…horrible. The stuff they said, speculated on as casually as tomorrow’s weather, dropped his heart, icy and spinning, into his stomach, settling there to thrum shallowly and churn the swelling nausea.

How he’d clearly meant to show them that things such as eating or wearing clothes or sleeping in a bed or having hair and not being raped were…privileges. That they all ought to be grateful for less than basic fucking humanity. To be…allowed…to merely exist without pain and humiliation was to be seen as a precious gift from their Master. That they all ought to be grateful.

Galo had only kept from vomiting at the knowledge they would hear him. It was the first thing he’d done when able to sneak back to his room, hurling into the toilet. Panicking on the tile until he was sick again. He hadn’t cried that night, weirdly enough. It was all so raw, bloody and fresh in his mouth, it was like he hadn’t swallowed it yet. He didn’t truly feel the horror until he woke up, fitful and sweating, from a nightmare into the cold dawn and knew he had failed.

He was having nightmares now. No more sex dreams for good old Galo – at least, not good ones. More like utterly fucking horrific. He knew better, technically, then to let it haunt him. Knew that the dark dream-shadow of himself was a twisted echo of his own pain. It didn’t make him any less able to forget the way he was trapped inside himself during those nightmares, a puppet dancing on monstrous strings as he writhed and thrashed against his own fists and feet and arms and fingers, crushing and twisting and hitting – no.

His heart couldn’t give a shit what his big-smart-boy-brain calmly explained about these terrors. Smart enough to know it wasn’t real, that he’d never, for love or money or fucking God, hurt these people. Not smart enough to know how to make them know that.

The worst part about this living nightmare was how it was effecting everyone. More and more, Galo felt trapped in his own body, unable to stop his misery from bleeding through and staining the atmosphere with red, oozing tension. He was trying so hard to keep his smile soft (not brittle), his hands loose (not shaking), his eyes kind (not wet). He has taken to keeping out of their path as much as humanly possible, a delicate dance of dodging and sidestepping which left him dizzy and often more uncertain than ever. He’s almost certain that it isn’t helping. If it was a barbell to hoist or a level to beat or a paper cup to scoop off the grass and toss into the garbage, he could do that. But this? This can’t just be…fixed.

He can’t avoid them forever and he shouldn’t.

He just…doesn’t know what to do.

He should. He should fix it. It hurts.

Galo shook his head, violently, glugging the dregs of his bottle into the glass and letting it roll of the swing, hit the floor, break. He’s gonna have to clean that up, he thinks, downing his final glass before setting it on the ground near swaying feet. How dare he? How dare he feel sad? He’s not the one who thinks he’s gonna be beaten or raped or brutalized in some sick way he probably can’t even invent but has been done to these people who he ownsand can do anythingto and nobody’s stopping him but himself. Yeah, he should feel really fucking sad for himself right now.

It doesn’t stop the deep sobs dragged from his lungs, hitching his shoulders, seizing his limbs in feeble twitches. It is pathetic and despicable and he can’t stop. He hasn’t cried like this in a long time, not from regret, not from pure, cold, hard, driven misery. It’s mixing with the wine and making him dizzy and ill and that all only fuels his sadness. Awfully, stupidly, he wants to be comforted. Feels like a big fucking kid and just wants someone to pat him on the shoulder and say he did his best.

But he’s an adult.

A goddamn useless adult and he’s alone and helpless and his best isn’t enough.

Useless.

He sobs into his hands.

Useless.

                                                  ~          ~         

Nyla doesn’t realize she isn’t alone for a moment.

When Lilah squealed, sudden and sharp, from the tub with the fretful worry that she’s left her gloves outside, Nyla glided from the basement to find them as the only one still fully dressed. She moved quicker than usual, since nobody was around to see her, abandoning a little grace in favor of haste as she searched the porches encircling the house. Only at the final stop at the back of the house did she spot the object of her quest.

Slipping through the back door, shivering in the wintry air, she had plucked the bright mitts off the swing when she heard a muffled noise.

Heart leaping into a frantic pace, Nyla spun about, clutching the soft knit to her chest like a shield. An animal? A guest? She blinked hurriedly against the halo of dim lamps and through the blur, eventually, made out the source of the sound.

Master Galo.

She goes alert in a second, less, hairs on end on her nape and forearms, as she clasps her hands demurely in front of her and feels her smile slide easily into place, pulled quick across her face as a curtain on a rod, neat and wide and polite.

Perfect.

“Good evening, Master. I apologize for disturbing you.”

She notices that Master seems…hunched, for lack of a better word, curled in on himself on the farthest swing. His large legs are cross and tucked up under him, wide torso curved over his knees. It is only once he raises his head at her voice, ringing light and soft across the night air, that she realizes his face was buried deep in his enormous hands. It is another moment before she sees that he is…he is…

Master Galo is crying.

Sobbing. Even startled out of it, he is quaking, big body trembling with great heaving gasps.

“N-Nyla? What, what’re you, what, what’re you doing here?”

He is slurring and Nyla glimpses the glint of glass, a shattered bottle and discarded cup scattered below the swing beneath Master’s feet. He has been drinking and Nyla cannot suppress the shiver coiling through her body. It is more than the air, frigid and unrelenting against her flesh, which makes her shudder. She has never seen him really drunk before, doesn’t know what he might be like. It frightens her.

“I was searching for an item I left outside and came to retrieve it, Master.”

“’m sorry, can’t hear you?”

Nyla breathed. Low and steady, once, and strode forward, drifting like one of the snowflakes until she floated to a halt directly in front of Master Galo. At close quarters, the yellow glow of lamplight outlines Master’s face. It is wet, eyes puffy, his mouth turned harshly downwards at the corners.

Her smile widens without her trying, a mirror of her Master, corners stretching taut to her ears until her lips hurt.

Why is Master crying?

“Is there anything you require, Master? Whatever you wish, I am honored and ready to be of service.”

Master Galo nods and his mouth trembles, fingers curling below his chin, as he sniffs and tries to speak. He has to try more than once, most likely due to the alcohol. The broken bottle is empty, only a few drops of wine dripping from the shards upon the planks. Like blood.

“Of course you are. You’re always, you’re so good. So, so sweet all the time. You know that Nyla? You know how good you are?”

“Thank you, sir. I am grateful, Master.”

A moment after those words leave her lips, Master Galo’s mouth crumples and his shoulders begin to quake once more as tears pour anew down his soaked cheeks. Nyla goes abruptly cold, down through her skin to her blood, flowing frantic and freezing through her limbs. Master is displeased.

Nyla is spinning, airless, icy water trickling down her chest, a frigid current swirling around her heart. Master is crying. She doesn’t…she doesn’t knowwhat she is supposed to do? He is displeased but he is not angry. He is crying and not yelling or smiling in a bad way or a good way and she doesn’t know what to do.

She knows what do to.

Folding swiftly to her knees, she leans forward, bangs brushing Master’s dangling shins.  

“I apologize, Master. I reacted poorly.”

“Please don’t say that, Nyla. P-please…you don’t, didn’t do anything wrong. You never do wrong.”

His hands, wet and shaky, fall into her periphery and he touches her shoulders, tugging upwards with his fingertips. His hands are like blocks of ice, chilling through the thin fabric of her gifted gown. She lets him guide her up and over until she is seated beside him on the swing. As soon as she sits, his touch flies from her, like he is flinching away from touching something too hot.

There is nothing she can do but remain where she has been placed, perfectly poised, perfectly still, perfect. Master Galo presses his hands to his face again, hitching once more, lurching forward to gasp and shudder into his palms. Nyla does not move or speak, presses down on the urge to apologize or offer or anything but sit like a quivering stone on the furniture while her Master is crying and wait.

“Don’t know what to do, Nyla.”

She suppresses a flinch at his muffled voice, still, wide-eyed and still-smiling as Master Galo raises his face again and stares at her mournfully. She finds herself pinned in place by his swollen green eyes, spilling tears which roll and drip off the end of his chin. He is the very picture of anguish and Nyla’s heart is fast and aching and a little sick.

“I…know I’m not, I’m trying but I…you think I wanna hurt you and I know why. Everyone’s fucking shit and, and, and you were sohurt. And it hurts me, fuck, no that’s…I’m sorry. I can’t do shit and it hurts because I don’t wanna hurt you or anyone and it’s not, I can’t make it different and I should. And you’re so scared. You’re so scared all the time.”

Master Galo shuts his eyes, rattling breath drawn deep, and he brushes his fingertips against her clasped hands.

“You’re scared right now.”

Nyla can’t breathe. She isscared. Fear courses, dark cold water, through her veins, ears thundering and swelling her throat closed. The water is inside her, choking her, a river in her chest where her heart should be, a crashing rumble against her ribs.

Her smile falters with the pain in her jaw, radiating through the strain in her mouth. She runs her tongue, furtive and quick, over her chapped lips. She lets her palms unclasp and fall open, the pooled sweat cooling in the open air as she lets Master Galo’s fingertips fall into the raisined cup of her hands.  

“Master, please, if you would…tell me what you wish, I would do anything you require.”

Master’s hand shifts further within the little oval her palms have made and something she cannot name twinges when his palm twitches and presses, like a wild animal trying to hide and run at the same time. It is the nameless pang which causes Nyla to fold her hands shut around her Master’s, cloistering it, protecting it.

It is ridiculous and horrifying and wrong, how her two hands barely enfold his one. The chill of the palm draws the clammy heat from her touch and she squeezes, once, barely. She doesn’t breathe.

Master Galo’s sobbing stops, the hitching slowing. Nyla repeats the gentle squeeze, daring, somehow, to brush both thumbs, light as cobwebs, over his knuckles. His hiccups slow to juddering inhales and then, finally, soften to wet and raspy breath. His eyes are still shut but they aren’t clenched and tears no longer flow. Though his mouth is still tremulous and downturned, the crumple begins to smooth.

“Thank you.”

Nyla’s blood warms, slows, from its frigid undertow at the words. Fear doesn’t abate but it loses its bite. She loosens her squeeze, ceasing the movements of her thumbs and merely cradling the palm now. He is smiling now and Nyla does not know why she feels like he has mirrored her now. It is a silly thought, fleeting, and she lets is melt against the swirl of wariness and concern and confusion. But his eyes are gentle when he opens them and, in that moment, she cannot find it in herself to be afraid.

“I was grateful to be of service, Master.”

[neutralish]

Sakamaki Subaru x reader (part 2)

(H/L): hair length

(H/C): hair color

(E/C): eyes colors

(S/C): skin color

-------------------------------------------

"Ah~ I knew I shouldn't have talked to Reiji-san..." you sighed while rubbing your neck stinging with pain. You see, you had the brilliant idea to actually go to Reiji-san and tell him about your will to go back to the river. And nice as he was, he told you off by nearly drugging you with his fucking tea and harshly biting you. Thankfully, he throw you out rather quickly, telling you if you don't come back before school start he'll "punish you so hard that you won't even think to go out again". Just by thinking about his threat made you shiver down your core. "Girl, think positive, think positive, no negative thoughts or threats should ruin your little trip!"

You where walking into the forest bathed in the dim light of the greyish sky. It was in the middle of Fall so you didn't really expected a bright sun with a clear blue sky. You didn't bother changing your uniform as you where to excited and impatient to go back to your little paradise. After your first (and last) trip, you had been rather roughly punished by the Sakamaki brothers, especially the triplet who made sure to not let you step a foot outside unless it was for school. They harassed and tortured you in many ways but you still managed to survive, even you don't know how you did it but anyway... Here you were in the cold, with the wind blowing out, making your (H/C) hair flying around. You, again, forgot to bring a coat so you were just protected by your white blouse stained with, still, dripping blood from your neck, and your thin black jacket. You where sure to be sick but meh... who cares, as long as you got to see you little place.

The forest was more lively in the day: some birds where chirping while the cracking leaves under your feets where accompanying them. Some squirrels where passing there and by as you watched them searching for foods with admiration in your eyes. But you where mostly the one to make the most of the noise. Multicolored leaves upholstered the wet mud, giving the forest a warm sensation despite the cold. Some mushrooms where sticking out of the leaves but almost everything else was covered with leaves and branches, only moving when a gush of wind swirled around or when they'd stuck on your shoes. "Dang, I wish I had rubber boots" you muttered to yourself as you watched helplessly, your shoes and feets being moistened by the ground and, again, the leaves.

Finally, you arrived to your destination.

Despite feeling a little bit dizzy, you ran up to the river covered with some leaves and branches but still beautiful as ever even if the weather was greyish. Crouching and bending down a little, you saw your own reflection, it was actually a little bit worrying: your (E/C) eyes where a little bit dull and looked quiet tired, your dark circles where a little bit too much obvious, your skin looked quiet pale, even grey, and you poor lips where quite cracked and colourless. Yeah... It wasn't quiet looking good. "... I really should take care of myself more..." You tried to really take care of yourself but it was so difficult because of these blood sucker always chasing you, teasing you, torturing you... Even sleeping became impossible!

Lost on your thoughts, you didn't noticed the shadow getting closer and closer to you. It's only when it reflected on the floor that you took conscious that something or someone was behind you... The old ugly feeling of panic came up at once, you felt cold sweat running down on your body as you breath started started to sped up," Oh God please, not Laito! I don't want him to soil this place..." you mentally prayed.

If you directly thought of him it was because of his clingy behaviour. Of course, Laito is known for his insatiable lust but lately it got worst and you saw... You saw, while riding back in the limousine from school, his dangerous green eyes on you (more like on your thights), his tongue licking up his lips in a flirtatious way, his hands tightly gripping the car's seats while surely having strong naughty thoughts. Even Reiji told him to calm down which made you relieved, not supporting his gaze anymore. And this is why you where panicking. You could almost hear his high lusty chuckle but you refused to see what (who) was behind you, sternly focusing on the river. You waited... and waited... and waited... but nothing came. "Ok, this must be a jock again... but may-"

You jumped a little when you felt something nudging you, wait...

Nudging ?

Finally turning around, you felt relief washing you as you saw who it was.

It was the same deer that scared you last time. "Ah~ Seriously it's the second time that you scare me" you said with amusement. You where still on your guard but you let yourself breath out properly, not feeling how much of breath you held in you from your previous scare. Facing again the river, you took a deep breath of the wet wood and maroons smell. Hearing the deer moving, you turned your head to see the brown fur animal sitting down in a graceful and majestic way.

Slowly getting up to not startle him, you took off your black socks and dirty brown shoes and gently placed them on the ground, no need to make them dirtier or you'll hear from mama Reiji. You calmly went into the cold water. Despite the temperature, the icy water didn't seem to bother you though branches kept bumping into your legs. You were looking at your (S/C) legs, they were a little bit dry because of the soon to be winter season but they still stayed smooth. Strangely, they where no fish, only a few tadpoles but you didn't think much of it as your attention drifted to Subaru... Again.

Since your last encounter with him, you thought of every possible scenario to talk to him or to make him open up but they all failed since you didn't know well how it'll end knowing his character. Unfortunately, as much you wanted you couldn't imagine the white-haired boy out of character and by this you meant: a cute baby Subaru blushing while angrily yelling at you to "shut up!" and then spilling out his surprising feelings for you and then slamming his lips on your, destroying your poor teeth.

No you just couldn't imagine this...

Feeling your legs getting numb, you decided that it was time to get out of the water, no point to put back your socks since your legs were wet. Instead, you just went beside the deer, feeling the lack of sleep catching you. Slowly you lay down, not caring about your hair getting dirty. Maybe you felt safe, maybe you felt protected by the brown fur animal maybe that why your eyes didn't hesitate to close by themselves. Not thinking about anything, you fell into a deep slumber.

"...e up" a voice said

Hm?

"...ke up!" Yelled an angry voice

Strange... I feel like it's Subaru talking to me..."

"Fucking hell! Wake up goddamnit!"

Your eyes immediately fluttered open. Slowly rising up in a sitting position, you tried to remember where you were. Still dazed with sleep, it took you a minute or two to remember that you were in the forest. Wait...what time is it ?! Looking at the sky, you saw that night has fallen. "Shot! I'm so screwed..." you mentally cursed yourself for carelessly falling asleep here.

"Shut your stupid nonsense anger get your ass up! We're already late because of you" you looked at the voice owner, it was indeed an annoyed-looking Subaru that greeted your view. "The fuck you where thinking falling asleep here alone? Do you have this much of a death wish?" He spatted in a venomous tone. "I wasn't al- " oh... the deer left you all alone again... "Oh just shut it and get your clothes on! "

Not wanting to make him angrier, you hurriedly put back your black socks and your brown shoes. Since the wind was gushing out, you put back your blazer, no need to catch a cold right now. Looking back to where he was, you saw that Subaru went ahead of you." Well, what a gentleman...". You took one last sight of the river and the beautiful reflection of the moon on it. You tried to memorize as much as you could since you, unfortunately, didn't know when you'll come back. One thing was sure, it wasn't going to be soon...

You were walking in the now quiet forest, only the locusts's sounds and the crackling leaves could be heard. Subaru was still walking really fast as you tried to match his pace but it was difficult, so you were kind of left behind.

Right now you were asking yourself if you should try to talk to him about something because you felt uncomfortable from the silence here. It was the kind of silence filled with discomfort and uneasiness making you want to talk about everything and anything just to not support this atmosphere. But what will be the subject? As far as you know, Subaru only liked flowers - even though he destroyed them sometime- but you didn't know a thing about them. You didn't know what he likes to do in his free time if he has a favorite kind of music or something else. Heck, you didn't know if he even has a favorite kind of food. You did notice he is a sadistic -like his brothers- but Subaru could be quiet...extreme. So yeah, you where quiet lost about how to start a discussion with the angry boy. "Silly me! I could at least ask him how is he tonight." Filled with determination, you started to open your mouth when he cut you right off. "Don't you dare to ask anything about me." His voice was low and came out as a growl but it did give you the chill. You just looked at him, he didn't turn around so you were still facing his back. Maybe it's why you had the courage to talk again. "Still, I'm going to ask you, so how are you doing?" Your voice was a little bit cracked from the lack of water but it was filled with gentleness and determination.

Silence...

Abruptly, everything went quiet.

"Why does it happen when I try to help the world!?" Your determination started to falter as the silence only continued for a minute or two before Subaru turned around to face you. His face was devoided of emotions, it was a little bit disturbing since you expected an outburst of anger from him. But then he spoke. "What don't you understand that you piss me off with this fucking attitude of yours and your useless attempts to get me in your bed? What? Did you really thought that once I've told how I feel, I'll run up into your arms and cry like a goddamn baby!" As he spoke his expression has changed to become an enraged one, filled with anger and fury. He didn't even let you talk as he continued. "You really think that I'll fall into this trap of yours? You've been a whore for my brothers and just like idiots they stuck to you but what made you think I'm like them? You're just like other women, using us for your personal needs and then throwing us away like fucking trash! So let me give you one fucking last warning..." his voice became low almost like the growl from a predator "Ask me one more thing, bother me one more time and I won't hesitate to kill you."

Right now, you where shocked, heck, beyond shocked. What he said was way to insulting!

First, he literally insulted you of whore, then he compares you to an apparently bad kind of woman and then tells you the you where annoying. But his outburst did help you to understand one thing, he has a grudge against the womankind. He lowly spoke of them so maybe something bad happened to him in his childhood or even now?

"Quick! I need to say something, this may be my chance to understand him more. " but as much as you wanted to speak, your brain seemed to have frozen. Not a word wanted to roll out of your tongue as you opened and closed your mouth several times, trying to form a sentence. "Great now I must look like a fish... but why can't I think of anything! I've had some scenario prepared in advance for this kind of situation, so why can't I talk?!" You cringed at yourself at this moment right now, you where embarrassing yourself in front of the angry vampire and you seemed to have frozen yourself in time as if you couldn't move.

Subaru watched the strange girl who looked quite shady.

Or maybe constipated...

He was mad right now but he was trying to not throw an outburst at (Y/N) 'cause he didn't need another hearing of the so claimed "scientist". Was she stupid or something? He did everything to stop the (H/C) girl coming near him, and by everything, he also meant mean and sadistic things, but she kept coming back like a bee for its honey.

How can she do it? Where does she find the fucking strength to get back up and to fight him and his brothers? She should be dead, heck even smashed and broken to piece since death seems to simple for her but here she was, looking like a sick fish but alive, the white-haired boy could even spot some life in her dull (E/C). It wasn't fucking fair! She was a mere human and he was beyond powerful: he was above the poor humankind. He possessed everything as vampire, powers, supernatural abilities he even has royal blood from his filthy father! So why does he feel weak, why is he even weak? A simpleton like you could fight and get up after every wound you received but not him?! How is this possible! Subaru didn't understand.

As if the weather was listening to the vampire emotions, the wind started to gush more violently than before making every tree move, the multicolored leaves and muddy branches went flying away. The moon's silvery light cast itself on where the two protagonists where standing making it the only visible light out here but the two of them seem to not care as they were lost in their own thoughts.

Unfortunately, Subaru's anger didn't seem to calm down as he keeps watching you, on the contrary, it rose more up as he saw you opening your mouth, ready to spit nonsense again. So, he took a swing with his tight fist and directed towards you.

You didn't see it coming. You only felt the wind's strong movement beside your head. You only felt pieces of woods collide on your skin. But damn...You really didn't expected a fucking punch! You eyes where so wide that they could have budged out of your eyes sockets. His tightened fist was still in the tree behind you. He was looking quiet mad as he watched you with a renewed fury, much stronger than before and to be honest... You where starting to get scared. It was comprehensible after all, you where in a quiet dense situation: all alone with a mad vampire in a dark forest devoided of all form of life, as if everything abandoned you to left you on your own. You couldn't move a finger, your body weighted like a big rock and your mouth had gone dry, your felt like your tongue was glued to your palate making it difficult to utter a word.

You didn't felt yourself breathing, strangely your lungs felt tight as a vice. Oh... Maybe it was because Subaru was tightly pressuring your neck. In your fear you didn't saw his other hand coming towards you and choking you but he didn't try to choke you to death, no, he only applied a painful strength on your neck making you wince pain. Was he torturing you here, in the forest, where no one will hear or find you if you needed help ?

He only kept pressuring your neck further and further to the point that you started to see black dots in your blurry vision. You didn't understand, why can't your hands move, why can't you stop him from almost killing you ?!

You where slowly becoming deaf to all sound, your head started to spin as your vision only darkened but you still managed to hear the vampire's shouting. "I fucking hate you! Why can't you stop messing my head with your stupid words. I already told, I won't fucking fall for your dirty trick so shut up already!" Loosening his grip on your neck, he threw you on the wet floor. You started to violently cough while trying to somewhat regain your unsteady breath.

You looked up at him seeing the mad vampire looking at you with deep hatred. You didn't how, but his deep ruby eyes seemed to be glowing in the dark but even weirder, you found them beautiful. How the heck can you think about his eyes in this situation?! "Get a grip girl, try to get up and keep some distance between you two" with this thought, you tried to get up but your legs wouldn't listen, they felt like jelly and your still dizzy from the lack of breath.

Out of nowhere, you found yourself caged by Subaru who ,you don't know why, was above you. Gathering tha last bit of determination and courage left in you you spoke."What do you really want Subaru?" Your voice faltered as you talked but it wasn't filled with anger. You did understand the havoc caused in his mind but you needed him to understand that breaking walls and being angered by everything weren't the answer to everything. Of course you where scared, scared to die by the hands of the vampire, scared to loose all your efforts in a single night however you still had this bit of determination left in you. The white haired boy only looked at you, he almost seemed lost on thoughts, maybe he was thinking of a way to kill you! But no... unexpectedly, Subaru put his head closer to yours and only whispered these word before doing the unbelievable "Stop trying to help me and give yourself into the pleasure to being destroyed by me."

You felt his silky yet chapped lips on your dry one, kissing you forcefully. It wasn't filled with love nor passion, only with anger, an unnamed lust, and confusion. You didn't know how you managed to put names on these emotions as your breath was again being taken away from you but thankfully, or maybe not, you felt Subaru's lips parting away from yours. Your cheeks were red from the effort and embarrassment. How could he kiss you out of nowhere?! You didn't even have the time to think about it that you, again, felt his lips on you but this time on your already bruised neck "Tch... which bastard touched your blood again! Do they even have a brain?"

You felt him licking up your wound but you knew what was coming. No matter how many the vampires do this, you would never get used to them licking you like this, it always made you shiver in disgust but this time you felt something else, something new. Was it because of your tired state or because of Subaru? You'll never new... you felt him grazing your neck with his fangs before roughly plunging them in your neck. A cry escaped from your mouth, your eyes were tightly shut. You felt the pain growing larger and larger as gulping sounds where heard. It was so painful, more than usual. Was it his punishment for caring too much? You didn't understand anything.

Subaru was still drinking your blood while tightly gripping your shoulders. He expected you to cry, scream in pain, squirm like a pathetic worm but no you did nothing. You did nothing at all. Taking off violently his fangs from you, he throws you a glare "Why aren't you reacting? Entertain me, give me some thrill you useless mortal!" He shouted at you with a mad smile. Blood was dripping from his mouth, his eyes were wide and concealed excitement but to you it was craziness. But strangely, you found him more handsome than ever

Maybe you were the weird one here, liking and finding a bloodthirsty vampire beautiful. You were feeling light-headed, your vision was starting to falter again but you still managed to talk with a determined voice " I won't... I won't give you this satisfaction. I will give you reactions if you let me help you-" Subaru's hand found once again his way to your neck but he didn't apply pressure. " Why... Why do you stay close to me? Don't you see what am I? I almost killed you, if I want right now I could drink all of your fool tasting blood and live you to rot in this place so tell me, are you out of your fucking mind? " His ruby eyes where still wide but the excitement was gone, it had been replaced with confusion and bewilderment toward you.

"I already told you, and I'll still repeat it, I want to help you because to me you're someone important and special. I don't know if it's love but I do feel right when I'm beside you but I don't support the fact that you aren't feeling right at all, it's just isn't fair! So please let me just help and love you" you continued on, letting your thoughts coming out of your chest, " I hate how you and your brothers treat me and surely treated the other bride, I hate how you don't respect me, how you insult and treat me like garbage and how I'm nothing to you but a bag of blood but I understand why you all act this way. I know that you all didn't have a good childhood, heck, even a good family, but it does mean that you need to stay like this forever! So please, please, let me at least show you the good side of life."

You knew that your plea won't have much effect on your dear vampire but at least, you tried. Somehow, you knew that you'll need to sacrifice something much bigger than your will to make him listen but what do you have to lose in your life? You prefer to be with him forever than being alone in a world filled with mad people and lusty bloodsuckers.

Subaru wasn't moving so you slowly snuck up your arms and gently placed them behind his neck. You tried to give him the feeling of a warm hug, the kind that you'll want after a hard day or after working too much. You felt his head slowly resting on your shoulders. Not a sound was coming from both of you. Only the forest seemed to come back to life, wind was slowly swirling, leaves were dancing on the floor, insects were playing their music but the two of you stayed quiet for a moment before Subaru spoke, "If I trust you, will you give yourself to me, will you give me your whole existence?" His voice was still harsh but filled with calmness.

You pondered over his question.

Where you really ready to entrust your entire self to him?

"I just want to be with you" your voice was speaking your mind, you were set to help him and love him but you were sure that you won't give your whole existence, you needed some sanity to save him from the madness of his life.

Subaru pushed you back again on the floor, more carefully this time, and looked at you with a demented passion burning in his eyes, "Then prepare yourself to breakdown, cry and hate me because I won't go easy on you. I'll break you down so much that you'll regret begging me to help me. (Y/N)... you will be stuck with me forever into an eternal dream, Hell or Heaven, it's up to you. "

You only smiled, opening your arms to him. He only went down for your lips, kissing you violently with a mad passion.

This night, you gave your entire mind and body to him as he did the same. You saw and engraved these memories inside of you, never wanting to forget them even after death.

Yes, maybe it was absurd and foolish to want to love him. And yes, maybe you were a fool, but you loved every bit of it. You knew that he'll only make you fall deeper and deeper into the pleasure of his madness but you didn't mind, as long that you could save him from himself.

And after a month, it's finally done ☻☻.Hope you all enjoyed it and I don't know what I'll write next but we'll see.

Neutralish

[reddie-fangirl24]

Eddie, The Patient Chapter 4     (A Reddie Fanfiction)

“Eddie? Hey, Eddie, wake up.”

Feeling himself being lightly jostled awake, Eddie moaned, opening his eyes only a smidge. Even though the lights were turned off in the little room it felt like thousands of stage lights beaming in his eyes. Clutching at the burdensome churn in his stomach, the pain in his cranium was worse. Just the slightest movement hurt. 

“Feel like going home?” A familiar voice asked softly.

Home. That question felt like an understatement. “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. 

Gently being lifted up from the pillow, Eddie’s muscles felt like limp rubber. His head felt like a bowling ball, hardly able to lift it up. Still not able to open his eyes all the way, Eddie’s head fell against what felt like a rather muscular shoulder. 

Turning his nose up, Eddie gagged at the scent of cologne. He couldn’t stand any smell!

Wait. Cologne? Bill never wears cologne.

Finally, Eddie’s eyes opened further, looking up to see who it was. Richie cracked a smile, “Looks like someone has seen better days, huh?”

In that instant, Eddie drew back, his back hitting against the wall, staring at his husband in shock like he was seeing a ghost. “Richie, what the hell are you doing here?”

Feeling a sting in his gut, Richie placed a comforting hand against his shoulder. “Your boss called me telling me that you were as sick as a dog! I’m here to take you home.” He stated matter-of-factly. This gave him a chance to study Eddie more, able to see how sickly pale he was. Even just sitting looked like too much of a challenge for him. Guilt swam in his knotted stomach.

Shivering, Eddie shook his head. “I told her to call Bill!”

“Bill must be busy trying to figure out how to write a good ending,” Richie lightly joked, rubbing Eddie’s knee to soothe him. They enjoyed the solitude of the room listening to the distant voices from the office.

“No, you should be at work,” Eddie quivered, looking away from Richie in shame.

“Man, I gotta take you home!” Richie was kind enough to keep his voice low. Eddie’s head looked as if it could explode. 

“You have more important things to do. That show you are recording for you told me airs in... a week, and-and that show...” Eddie just trailed off, unable to go off on one of his normal tangents. Saddened by Eddie’s lack of energy to think proper words, Richie gently touched his face to get the man to look at him. He looked worried as though he were about to be lectured.

“Eddie, let me tell you something. You’re way more important than me standing on a stage performing to an audience,” he said to him with all the love in his voice.

It took a moment for Eddie to understand what the man said to him, but his mouth curled into a tiny bleary smile. He felt his heart warm, staring into Richie’s sincere eyes. Smiling crookedly, Eddie’s eyes were unfocused, glassy. Just feeling the heat rising off his face, Richie pressed the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Jeez, what did you do, explore the inside of a volcano?” Richie remarked. With that, he stood up from the bed and helped Eddie stand. “Let’s get you home.”

Dizzy, Eddie stumbled, clinging to Richie who kept his arm secured around his waist. Grabbing his satchel from the chair and throwing his jacket around Eddie’s shoulders, Richie kept him steady, practically holding him up from the ground. 

“How are we getting home?” Eddie asked in a weak voice.

This is just sad. “I got us a taxi,” Richie replied as his hand fell on the doorknob.

Eddie drew back from him. “No, no, Rich, no that’s not a good idea!” Eddie anxiously rubbed his arm.

“Why not?” Richie asked confused. He took his hand away from the door and touched Eddie’s arm in comfort. How Eddie even had the strength to stand was beyond him.

Eddie’s expression turned to pure shame. Recalling a time when he was four when his dad was very sick, and getting worse, his mother ignored her husband’s pleas when he didn’t want her to get a cab to take them home. And of course, along the ride, Eddie’s father threw up in the backseat, upsetting the cab driver greatly. His mother was not happy either, having to pay extra for the mess. They were already struggling with expenses to begin with. 

Clutching at his stomach, Eddie averted his gaze from Richie’s understanding eyes. Was he going to be sick at any moment? “Taxies are too expensive to throw up in...” he managed to say.

Thinking back to how easygoing Harry the driver was, Richie smiled down at him. Staring into Richie’s eyes, the man never shamed him. Instead, he looked at him in half-pity, but pure love that made Eddie’s heart throb. “I got some news for you, man, I think taxi drivers are used to that kind of thing,” he reassured his love in a soft tone, looking into his tired eyes. 

With that, Richie planted a kiss on Eddie’s forehead. Eddie’s heart instantly beamed, and his eyes sparkled like the way he did when he was a kid. Richie’s heart melted, too, having missed tender moments like these with Eddie. Now it was obvious how little time they’d spent together.

“Let’s take our chances, come on, let’s get you home, you little turd!” Richie grinned as they exited the room into the main office. Richie kept an arm around Eddie’s waist, as the man leaned against him, holding his stomach, and not saying a word. Some teachers were present, looking up at the men. Eddie didn’t want to look at any of the teachers’ faces. They were ashamed.

“Goodbye, Eddie, feel better!” Mrs. Alliston cheerfully called out from her office. “We’ll miss you!”

Miss me? What did that mean?

His stomach started making those gurgling noises again as they finally made it outside, the fresh breeze hitting Eddie’s face. The yellow taxi came into view as Richie helped him down the steps. Even though the driver smiled, nodding to him in sympathy, that didn’t make Eddie feel any better. 

Opening the door, Richie let Eddie slide in first. Based on the fermenting smell, it was obvious that this taxi had a history of car sickness. Eddie grasped his stomach, trying not to think about it, or gag. Oh, this ride was going to be awful!

Getting his husband’s attention, Richie let Eddie lie down so he could use his leg as a pillow. Comfortable, Eddie gripped Richie’s knee, and closed his eyes, listening to his husband recite their address to the driver. Even while they were driving Richie made jokes with the driver. Everyone knew him. Who wouldn’t want to know Richie? Was Eddie just another person to the world of Richie’s fame? Or was he going to become a negative outlook because of this incident?

Three blocks. It was just three blocks. That felt like hours!

Gently rubbing Eddie’s shoulder, Richie kept him steady, even opening up the windows to let some air into the car. Unlike the drive to the school, it didn’t feel as nervewracking this time. There weren’t as many stops and people were at least observant. 

Hang in there, Eds. Almost there, Richie assured his love who emitted uncomfortable moans every so often, clutching at his stomach. Little did Richie know that Eddie was dreaming about his student’s disgusted horrified faces. And his boss. Was she angry? Yes, of course, she was! She must have already been planning to fire him.

The car stopped. Oh no, traffic? No, they were home. Home.

Helping Eddie out from the car, he could hardly stand, looking as though he would vomit at any second. It was best to get him inside and fast. Leaning him against the car, Richie turned back to the cab driver.

“Thanks, Harry! You saved both our asses!” Richie said, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket.

“No problem, and no charge.”

“What, no, you hauled us around town! You need something for dealing with me!”

“You’re Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier. Giving you a ride means more than anything,” Harry said to him with a big thankful smile.

As Eddie waited, he wrapped his light jacket tighter around his shivering body. How could he feel cold when the sun was shining? That churning feel returned, showing no signs of subsiding, gurgling and ready to make it journey venturing up to its destination. At least it was rewarding in the end.

“Richie...” his voice was weak, but he was able to make it sound panicked.

Just as Richie made the cab driver accept a five-dollar tip, Richie turned just in time to see a green-faced Eddie’s cheeks puffing up. Shoving his wallet back into his pocket, Richie took Eddie around his waist and lead him towards the front stairs. “Thank you!”

“Anytime. Feel better, sir!” The driver called out.

Getting up the eight steps to the front door was normally easy, but Eddie hardly had the strength, leaning against Richie who hurried him along, bouncing him about, only making matters worse. Eddie almost misstepped, feeling it come closer and closer. Maybe Richie should actually think about installing an escalator.

“Richie...” Eddie painfully moaned once more. Richie hated whenever Eddie said his name like that. It only reminded him of that dreadful moment where he had to witness Pennywise slice through the love of his life right in front of him. Believing that he was going to lose him again, Eddie pulled through. Yes, he pulled through.

“Just a few more steps, Eds!” Richie attempted to assure him in whatever way he could. These words strengthened Eddie and before they knew it, they were inside after Richie struggled with the house key, racing to the bathroom in the hallway.

Falling to his knees, Eddie violently vomited into the toilet in a matter of seconds. It hurt. Despite his own stomach lurching, Richie smoothed a calming hand over the man’s back, holding him. “I gotcha, Eds, I got you. Better out than in,” Richie soothed him, gently giving his shoulder a squeeze. What’s even in there?

Once Eddie emptied the contents of his stomach, he fell to the side of the toilet practically rolling up in a fetal position. How long was this going to last? His insides felt as if they were going to explode from the pain. Sweat dripped from his warm forehead as Eddie whimpered, his head pounding. 

Carefully, Richie led Eddie to the bedroom. Jumping at how Eddie’s cold and clammy against his skin, a funny joke came to Richie. “Jeez, man, your hands are like ice and yet you’re burning up! What should I do, put you half in Hawaii and the other in Antarctica?”

Eddie lightly smiled, liking Richie’s attempt at cheering him up.

Dressing out of his clothes, Eddie got into something more comfortable. He realized that he never put on a tie that morning to go with his now sweat-soaked clothes. Eddie was too sick to even care as Richie helped untie his shoes for him.

Once he sat back into the pillows, Eddie’s eyes closed. This was the most peaceful bliss he could feel all day, snuggling under the warm covers. In that instant, he felt so much better. 

Feeling something tap at his knees through the bedcovers, Richie pecked straw at his mouth. “Ginger ale. It’ll make your stomach feel better.”

Taking a couple of sips, the bubbly liquid made his nose itch. Now he was thankful that they kept ginger ale in the house at all times. He always chewed out Richie when he drank too much in celebratory after one of his shows. 

“Not too much, now. You don’t want to get sick again.” Richie said with a smile putting the glass on the nightstand next to the bed.

As tears leaked into his eyes, Eddie felt anything but better. Why was everyone being so overwhelmingly doting to him when he’d messed up everything? His students were trapped in a room with an awful fermenting smell, a substitute had to be called in, Richie had to leave work, and his boss was disappointed in him.

“Oh, Rich, I’m sorry!” Eddie cried rolling onto his side, hiding the tears from Richie.

“Hey, don’t be sorry, Eddie. I know how you feel!” Richie gave his husband’s arm a tight squeeze. He was close to tearing up himself. Seeing Eddie cry was the worst. But, Eddie being sick, oh that was enough to make his heart crack. “I would never have let you leave the house this morning. I’m sorry, man.”

Eddie was too sick to plead his case any further. Sleep was already taking over. Rolling up on his side, Eddie was asleep in a matter of seconds.

“You just sleep, Eddie. I’m here if you need me,” Richie said softly as he rubbed his side through the blankets. 

Relieved that Eddie was finally getting some rest, Richie stood up pacing the bedroom fuming. What the fuck was wrong with him? Everything could have been avoided if he wasn’t so busy in his own world that morning! Why, why did he answer his phone to talk to his boss? If he noticed Eddie struggling to hold himself up, or his odd behavior, he never would have let Eddie go to school. He was better than this. Now, he really let Eddie down. 

Feeling his cell phone buzz in his pocket, Richie was relieved when he saw that it was Bill calling him. Collecting himself, Richie reluctantly left the bedroom to answer. “Hey, Bill, what’s up?”

“Richie, is everything okay? Audra and I both got a call from the principal of Eddie’s school saying that he’s sick. Are you-”

“No, Bill, I’m sorry!” Richie interrupted digging through his hair. He leaned against the wall, tiredly. “Eddie is home. I got him.”

“Oh good. Why did she call us anyway?” Bill asked him.

“Eddie didn’t want to have the office call me because he was afraid of interrupting me from some scheduled rehearsals I had scheduled for today. He refused to tell me that he was sick this morning. Course I was wrapped up in everything. The car decided to kick, my manager scheduled an interview, and Eddie slipped out the door while I was talking on the phone. Ugh, I feel so stupid!”

“Rich, don’t beat yourself up,” Bill said to him. “It happens to everyone.”

“That’s easy enough for you say! Eddie has the flu. He’s never been this sick before. You know how bad he is even when he gets a cold!” Richie yelled into the phone. Realizing that he was still close to the bedroom, Richie lowered his voice. Clearly, Bill could hear the stress in his voice. “Sure, I’ve taken care of him before, but this is different.”

“Do you need Audra and me to come over there?” Bill asked. Richie heard something slam shut in the background which he guessed was Bill’s laptop. “Don’t you have a show tonight?”

Richie shook his head. That was right. He almost forgot. “No, Bill, you don’t have to come here. Eddie is way more important than that show. I need to do this. He needs me.”

“Okay,” Bill said in understanding. “Listen, I know how you feel. How many times do you think Audra stopped me from going to work because I was sick? And once Audra put on her makeup before heading to the studio and the director had to call me to come and take her home.” Bill chuckled. “It was the first time of me telling her, ‘I told you so!’”

Richie laughed, too, making him release some of the tension. “Thanks, Bill.”

“How are you, Richie?” Bill asked after a moment.

That question. Since Richie had always been closed off, he dreaded answering those questions. He couldn’t let Bill know that he was struggling, at a loss, feeling like a failure to his own husband. Spoken like a real loser. 

“I just feel like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’, Bill,” Richie tried to laugh to make the situation a little better, to no avail. “It’s the flu. What if... what if, I don’t know...”

“It’s okay. Just keep him hydrated, make sure he gets plenty of rest, and if he needs to throw up, help him. I know it isn’t pleasant, but it helps. And keep the TLC going!”

Richie laughed. “That shouldn’t be a problem!”

“You’re welcome. And keep me posted. I swear Audra and I will come over there if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Bill. Listen, I gotta run. I need to go check on him.” Richie said appreciatively. Hanging up the phone, Richie felt some weight lift off his shoulders. Friends. What would he do without them?

Walking back into the bedroom, Richie found Eddie still asleep. It broke his heart to see him look this sick. This pale. And so... still.

Wait, was he... no, he couldn’t think that. Yes, he was emitting little breaths from his mouth as he poked his head closer.

Pulling up a chair, Richie took out a magazine, watched Eddie for a few moments, keeping watch of his dear husband who slept. I’m right here, Eddie. I am here.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Birthday prompt #5

Read on Ao3 Birthday prompts masterlist

@aini-nufire

[Ok, how about Cris saves Picard from some danger (jumps in front of him/pushes him out of the way) and gets hurt himself and we get some feels from Dadmiral Picard?]

After what the brass had dubbed the “Coppelius stunt,” Jean-Luc Picard owed Starfleet so many favors that he was hardly in a position to refuse Clancy whenever she requested that he and his unorthodox crew go deal with the odd diplomatic mess. Many non-Federation worlds reacted better to him personally than to Starfleet envoys, it seemed, and it was often very useful. Right now, staring at half a dozen arrowheads all pointed at him and Rios, Picard sincerely wished he’d told the Commander in Chief to get lost.

(The bows were originally ceremonial, but the reinforced tritanium arrows looked operative enough. Picard could feel Rios’ glare from where the Captain was standing.)

“I fail to see what you are trying to accomplish here,” Picard tried to reason. “Harming us will not make the Federation listen to whatever demands you might have.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m aware,” the demi-King said with a genuine laugh, his accented Standard quite informal for the leader of a third of the Keetureh planetary system. “And that’s partly the point. To be honest, this really hasn’t much to do with the Federation.” He waved one of his four nigh-translucent hands around, gesturing to his people surrounding them. “You have just no idea of what killing you guys would do for my approval rating.”

Picard’s eyebrows climbed to vertiginous heights. He stared, quite dumbfounded, and a quick glance in Rios’ direction was enough to determine that the younger man was just as confused.

“This is about getting re-elected?” Cris attempted to clarify. Picard could tell that he was offended by the notion.

The demi-King nodded in confirmation, a vaguely contrite smile on his lips.

“Sorry,” he apologized with a half-shrug. “I would bet that you’re both used to being threatened for more personal reasons. The truth is, most of my people are backwater idiots who are dying to see me ‘take action’ against big evil Starfleet and all of you offworlders. I wouldn’t risk killing an actual ambassador, but I figure they won’t know the difference.”

Picard’s perfectly regulated synthetic heart managed to skip a beat as hope ignited within his chest. He stepped forward, ignoring the wary soldiers’ growls of warning, and held up his hands to get the demi-King’s attention.

“Then let my friend go,” he offered before the man could order his troops to shoot him, or knock him out. “His name will mean nothing to them, and my death alone should suffice to impress your electorate.”

It was a rather bold – reckless – move, but the opportunity was too favorable to pass up, and Picard had spoken before considering much beyond the obvious need to secure Rios’ safety. He was taken completely by surprise when the strong negative reaction that he was preparing for didn’t come from the Keeturehan, but from Rios himself.

“Fuck that,” Rios snarled, and before anybody had the time to react he dived for his comm badge, which the demi-King had carelessly left lying on the table. “Raf, beam us out,” he barked in the device as he snatched it up.

The demi-King shouted something in his own language and the gears of the mechanical bows turned, leaving a mere half-second delay between the twang of the strings being released and the woosh of air rushing past Picard’s ears as he was tackled to the ground. Rios’ muffled grunt was lost in the transporter beam.

When they materialized on the transporter pad at the back of the ship, Rios was the first to get to his feet, getting up before Picard could fully register that the younger man had been shielding him with his body. The crew’s surprised exclamations were what got him too look up, dizzy as he was from the experience. He froze.

Rios was wobbling unsteadily, his right hand stretched out as he tried to find the bulkhead for support, his left hand pressing against his lower abdomen and the Keetureh arrow protruding from it.

“What the—” Seven swore as she rushed to steady him.

Raffi crashed to the ground next to Picard, her hands hovering nervously as she tried to ascertain whether or not he was injured as well. He batted her hands away impatiently, getting to his feet with Elnor’s help just as Rios’ refused Seven’s offered support.

“I’m fine,” the man growled, before – to their collective horror – gripping the end of the arrow’s thin shaft and breaking it off. He tossed it to the ground right as the EMH flickered on.

“Captain!” the holo exclaimed as he came online, “Sir, are you alright?”

“I think tritanium messes with your scanners,” Rios deadpanned, pushing the hologram out of his way as he stumbled toward the stairs.

The medbay was down there, but so were his quarters. Agnes seemed to realize this as she jumped in front of him and tried to block his way.

“Cris, wh— what are you doing?” She stammered, voicing their shared incredulity. “You need to sit down!”

Rios’ expression softened minutely, but he brushed past her off the same. It was all Picard could take before the irritation that had been steadily swelling up his chest exploded into anger.

“Rios,” he snapped, “what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

That got the Captain’s attention, and his dark eyes dropped to Picard’s. They were stormy and unreadable, and Picard was not in the mood to indulge Rios’ aggravating tendency to brood.

“What?” Rios asked through gritted teeth. As he was wavering on his feet, the blood stain on his shirt growing larger, Picard assumed that the strained voice was because of the pain.

“Rios, you will sit down and you will let the EMH examine you before we move you to sickbay,” Picard instructed, gesturing at the half-arrow still sticking out. “And for goodness’ sake, do it before you collapse. You have been foolish enough for today.”

That had apparently been the wrong thing to say, but Picard didn’t realize it until Rios slumped against the wall and glared at him with all his might. The others hovered awkwardly in the background, aware that their help would not be welcomed.

“Foolish?” Rios repeated hoarsely.

Later, Picard would look back on that moment and rightly beat himself over his appalling lack of sensitivity and common sense. At the time, he pressed on, somehow convinced that a stern commanding voice and clear orders were what a stubborn ex Starfleet Commander needed to start acting rationally.

“Taking such a risk on my behalf was reckless and ill-conceived. Now sit down so you don’t add your death to my conscience,” Picard said firmly.

And just like that Raffi flinched badly, and Seven let out a low “damn.” Before Picard had time to consider why, Rios’ face went from stony to downright furious, absolute rage etched on each line of that face they only knew as cool and collected.

“Yeah, because it was all about you,” he spat. The hand clasped over his wounded side was trembling badly, Rios’ legs shaking, sweat trickling down his neck as he conjured the last dregs of his strength in an a desperate effort not to collapse. (Even propped against a bulkhead and his blood puddling on the ground, he still managed to stand taller than Picard.) “It’s always all about you old Starfleet cabrónes and your grand heroic moves and your fucking egos and your Messiah complexes. Aweonao.”

But after that he deflated, and he looked impossibly tired. When he staggered from the wall and made his way to the stairs with the EMH following worriedly, nobody stopped him.

“He is very sad,” Elnor stated when Rios had disappeared from their field of view. And then he turned to Picard and frowned at him. “And I think it is your fault.”

“What happened down there?” Soji asked, the only one who had not once voiced her opinion or tried to intervene in any way since Picard and Rios had beamed up.

“Seems clear enough to me,” Raffi muttered, shooting a glare at Picard. She suddenly clapped her hands, startling them. “Okay, here’s tonight’s rule, and you’d all better respect it. No following Cris, no talking to Cris, no trying to get Cris to open up. I’ll make sure he’s alright.”

Elnor, Soji and Agnes all looked like they were ready to protest, and Picard felt like it too, as he considered that he deserved some form of explanation for Rios’ outburst, but Raffi shut them up before any of them had time to voice their complaints.

“Guys, no offense to you, but I know him. He won’t want to see any of you,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I know you’re worried, but that’s really not the important thing here.”

And with that, she strode after their Captain and disappeared in the belly of la Sirena, leaving Picard to ponder what he had done so wrong and how he could best apologize once he understood. Seven noticed his troubled look, and she walked to him and snatched his arm, leading him to the bridge before he could protest.

“One of you activate that stupid Hospitality Hologram to clean up all that blood,” she threw over her shoulder to their three younger shipmates. “And you,” she told Picard with a hard look, “you and I need to talk.”

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When Picard sneaked past Raffi’s quarters late that night and made his way to Rios’ room, he was fully prepared to get thrown out and have to face the wrath of the whole crew. She’d told them all that she and Cris had talked a bit, drunk a bit more, that he was as good as cold be expected, and that he was still off-limits. Picard imagined that Rios had locked himself into his quarters, away from prying eyes and careless words. It thus came as a surprise when the door slid open at his simple request, welcoming him into the very heart of that ship he now called home but had yet to fully know.

Rios was facing away from him, sitting in one of two armchairs with a book in his hands and a new shirt on. He didn’t look up at the whoosh of the door panel, probably out of indifference. Picard rapped his knuckles against the door frame, awkwardly clearing his throat when it was clear that Rios didn’t intend to react in any way.

“May I come in?” He asked softly, because he had done his day’s share of overstepping.

Rios finally deigned looking up and eyed him warily. Then he closed his book and gave a nod – a sharp jerk of the head, really, motioning for Picard to enter. Picard slowly came closer, moving to stand right in front of his host. He didn’t dare examine the room for too long, lest he appear rude, but he still noticed the spotless surfaces, the tidiness, the appearance of perfect life-discipline that might just be a cover for a near-pathological need to clean up and keep things ordered.

As his eyes landed on Rios again, Picard couldn’t help but notice the slight bulge under the shirt then, the red tinge of that slightly wet patch on the fabric, just under the ribs. Still no dermal regenerator, apparently.

“Are you alright?” Picard inquired carefully, because he hated to think that Rios considered mere bandages an adequate substitute to tissue regeneration.

The man probably had no interest in painkillers either.

Rios raised an eyebrow at the question, a bit weary, a bit sardonic, just enough Rios that it helped put Picard’s mind at ease.

“What do you want?” Cris asked flatly.

Was Picard like that to most people? A riddle wrapped in an enigma, keeping all emotions to himself and leaving his friends and acquaintances to fruitlessly try to guess what it was that he was thinking or feeling?

Taking in a deep breath, Picard gave Rios a sheepish smile.

“May I?” He inquired again, pointing at the second armchair.

Something shifted in Rios’ stony demeanor, like another defensive wall going up, but he didn’t say no, and so Picard sat. Rios stared at him for a few moments before smiling wryly, a sight that Picard had dearly been hoping to see.

“If we keep answering questions with more questions, we’re never going to get any talking done,” Rios commented with that smirk of his. He poured himself a glass of alcohol and downed it in one gulp, absently holding his left side. “Go ahead.”

Picard cleared his throat again.

“It has come to my attention— Well, Seven and Raffi ensured that it came to my attention— that I have behaved quite tactlessly upon our return from Keetureh.” Rios snorted but didn’t interrupt him, which encouraged him to continue. “You said something, about being all about me… I don’t think I understand.”

“I don’t think I care,” Rios said back, pouring himself another drink. “You’re kinda making it all about yourself right now.”

Picard sighed.

“Rios, I can hardly apologize for something I don’t know I have done.”

Rios got up without drinking his second glass of brandy and walked to the opposite wall, leaning against it with his forearm and staring at the soft lights above his bed wordlessly.

“This is about Captain Vandermeer, isn’t it?” Picard pressed gently.

He had forgotten earlier that this Captain before him wasn’t the fearless lone spaceman that he often pretended to be.

Rios’ vulnerability had been on display the day after Nepenthe, when he’d brought Soji onboard. That day too, Picard had somehow managed to make a mess of things by failing to see the depth of Rios’ anguish. But that day they’d also talked, the young Captain had opened up, and Picard had caught glimpses of a bright and optimistic Starfleet XO eager for the approval and respect of his superiors.

He now remembered how Rios had once called him “old man” when that nickname apparently belonged to his late commanding officer, how he’d said “jefe” to him. So Picard waited, confident that this connection at least would get Rios to give up a snatch of information, or the merest hint of a confidence.

Rios stared at the lights for a long while before rubbing his eyes tiredly with two fingers. It lasted just too long to be a simple symptom of fatigue, and the hitching breath that followed was just too short to be from the physical pain. Rios breathed in through his nose, though it sounded almost like a sniff, and giving up all pretense, he wiped his eyes.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Yeah, it’s about Captain Vandermeer. It’s always about Captain Vandermeer.” He gave Picard a weary look and let out a slow, pained chuckle. “It’s always about Captain Vandermeer because he couldn’t wait ten minutes before blowing his brains out. He just had to do it there, right in front of me. It’s always about you because you’re the retired Admiral with a brain abnormality that flies away with my ship to commit suitably heroic suicide, and still has the gall to beam down at the last possible minute because your death wouldn’t dramatic enough if you kicked the bucket on my bridge.”

Picard blinked, taken aback. Rios wasn’t done.

“It’s always about him and you because you always have some red stain to wipe off your ledger, some nasty thing to clear off your conscience, some big screw-up you can’t live with and have to atone for. And nothing else in the world matters.”

Picard was beginning to get the picture.

“I supposed that you’re entitled to be angry at my self-sacrificing tendencies,” he gently acknowledged. “It would be hypocritical of me to deny you that after my own outburst.”

Rios’ eyes hardened.

“I’m angry at you assuming that you have the right to make me live through anything like my Captain’s death and your death a third time,” he corrected harshly. But then his voice faltered, and he looked away again. “I’m angry at you thinking that you have the right to choose between saving my life and adding to what you’ve already made me carry.”

I am terrible at this, Picard thought as memories of all his similarly awkward conversations with Elnor, Soji, Raffi or Agnes flashed before his eyes. Of their seven people crew, it really appeared like Seven of Nine was the only one who had no need for his paternal guidance. Trust the universe’s twisted sense of humor to make Jean-Luc Picard the fatherly figure to an entire ship full of badly damaged adults and youngsters. His Starfleet crews had been mostly emotionally balanced – or at least bound to stay professionally distant.

“I’m truly sorry,” he said softly, because words of comfort seemed pale and inadequate here.

Rios nodded slightly before wincing, the sheen of sweat again visible on his pain-creased brow. He crossed the distance to his bed and all but collapsed on the mattress. He didn’t lie down, sitting up as straight as his injured side would allow, but it was clear that he badly needed to rest.

“It’s okay,” he said tiredly. “I’m not— I’m not that angry.”

And here it was, the vulnerability, the easy forgiveness of a young First Officer who held Captains and Admirals in too high regards, weighing his own faults as heavier than all of theirs, endlessly comparing himself to those he looked up to and founding himself lacking. Picard had seen it many times, had seen the same behavior in young ensigns and decorated officers alike.

“I was very worried about you,” Picard confessed, because it felt important.

Rios deserved to know that he cared, as clumsily as he did. To shoulder such a burden of pain and trauma without the assurance that of reciprocated affection would have been intolerable. And it was the core of the problem, wasn’t it? Vandermeer and Picard had both ultimately failed to prove that they cared. They’d made it about them.

“No need,” Rios quipped, his speech now slightly slurred. “Wasn’t even the first time you’ve seen me with tritanium stuck somewhere.”

“I don’t much care for a repeat, frankly,” Picard gently admonished, although he was disappointed that Rios had addressed the physical aspect of the issue and neglected to acknowledge the underlying message. He studied Rios’ waxy complexion and he took in the tremors running through his shoulders. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Don’t really care,” Rios shrugged. He finally lowered himself onto his back and stared at the ceiling without a word, breathing in and out, and Picard hated to leave him like this.

“Thank you,” he finally said. “For getting us out of that mess. And for saving my life.”

“Hmm,” Rios eloquently answered. “You’re welcome.”

Just as Picard was getting up to go, the inexplicable urge to check on Cristóbal one last time forced his steps towards the bed and not the door. The Captain was already asleep, his skin clammy and the red patch on his shirt larger, his pained breaths escaping through slightly parted lips. Picard had never been one for physical displays of affection, but he couldn’t help the hand than strayed to Cristóbal’s forehead, brushing away some of the wayward curls.

“Pops,” Cristóbal breathed out in reaction to the touch – whimpered, almost – causing Picard to withdraw his hand immediately, feeling oddly guilty.

The EMH decided to silently appear right then, the medkit materializing at his feet. His gaze met Picard’s and they exchanged a nod.

“Go,” the EMH – Emil – murmured. “I’ll take care of it.”

Picard left, still a little troubled, still a little humbled. He’d have liked to stay longer, to make sure, perhaps, that Cris was alright.

But that had been today’s lesson, hadn’t it? It really wasn’t about him.

[snortyport]

Trapped - JJK Chapter 5

Summary- A long walk through the woods has everyone on edge. Those sounds you keep hearing, are they animals or something more sinister? Will everyone make it to safety?

Rating- PG

Word Count- 2664

Pairing- Jungkook x reader

Warning- swearing, minor character death

A/N- Thank you to everyone reading this! I love you all!!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

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The walk to the cabin is long and exhausting. Jeannie started complaining after 10 minutes of walking and demanded a piggyback ride. She’s been taking turns on someone’s back since.

You’ve had to stop a bunch of times for Jamie to have a rest. He’s been getting dizzy after getting a little worked up from the walk. Each break has taken him about five minutes to get his head to stop spinning. It’s driving you crazy having to stop so many times but you’d rather he be ok then push him too hard and something worse happen to him.

Everyone is grumpy and snapping at each other over the littlest things. Kyle went against his usual chill personality and yelled at Graham for walking too close to him. Hayley yipped at Jeannie for pulling her hair while taking her turn giving a piggyback, which made Jeannie cry and avoid her. Jamie snapped at Tanner for “treating him like a baby” because he keeps fussing over him.

Everyone is tired and hungry and ready to be done with the day. Yourself included.

As much as the kids are driving you crazy with their bickering, there’s one thing that’s been bothering you more. You’ve been walking for hours now and no car has driven by. You’re sure someone would have had to come by. A nightshift nurse going home, or a part time worker done for the day. Someone should have driven by you by now.

You’re really getting nervous. If someone hasn’t come by yet, will anyone? The phones aren’t working and no ones driving home. How are you supposed to get help?

Maybe Old Man Busby has a phone I can use.  You hope with everything in you that another adult will come by so everything isn’t on your shoulders anymore. Every little thing that’s adding up is raising your shoulders higher towards your ears with tension. You’re going to need a massage and two, no three, bottles of wine once you get back home.

You’re not sure how much more you can take. You’re just one woman. One woman whose never had to deal with someone cheating on a test, let alone a bus crash and two dead people.

“Come on, guys! It’s not too much farther,” you say with as much fake cheeriness you can muster. Every single on of them groans as they stand back up from their break.

“How much longer?” Lilly asks, a hard edge to her tone.

“Well if it wasn’t for Jamie needing a break every five seconds we’d probably be there already,” Will angrily mutters, just loud enough for Jamie to hear.

Jamie hangs his head in embarrassment and starts walking slower to get to the back of the group. “I’m sorry, everyone. I don’t mean to be so slow.”

“Don’t listen to Will. It’s not your fault, Jamie,” Hayley says softly. “Will is just being a baby and throwing a tantrum like he always does.” The younger kids snicker and giggle behind their hands.

“No need to be a bitch,” Will says, making the younger kids gasp at his language, looking at Hayley.

“Watch your language, Will,” you scold him. He stares at you incredulously.

“What about her name calling?”

“Well, stop acting like a baby and she won’t have to call you names,” you tell him. And you’ll admit, telling him off makes you feel good. You’re definitely over the whole I-need-to-be-nice-because-I’m-his-teacher. Today has been too long and difficult and he’s getting on your last nerve with all his sarcastic quips and negativity.

Hayley looks over her shoulder and smirks triumphantly at Will, which makes him huff and cross his arms. Jamie and Tanner look at each other, and then turn away trying not to laugh. Ok maybe the rest of them aren’t getting on your last nerve. You bite your lower lip to cover your smile.

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You continue to walk, the sun starting to sink lower into the sky. The bugs have been chewing you up for a good thirty minutes. You’re itchy, and hungry, and cranky. Your feet hurt and your legs burn from all the walking. Maybe I should start working out.

You have it easy though. Jamie pushed himself to hard and almost passed out which caused the trip to be delayed for twenty minutes until he was lucid again.

Hayley’s ankle has gotten worse and has slowed down your walking speed. Noah offered her his arm to help her, which did mean you could speed up a little bit. She blushed and accepted and the two of them have been talking quietly since. Will has been silent since Noah offered but he keeps looking over his shoulder to glare at them. It might be making you a little happy to see Will so angry at Noah and Hayley hitting it off. Watching them has made the tedious walk just a little more enjoyable.

But at least you are almost there. The road to the cabin should be around the next curve. Your feet are screaming at the thought of getting to sit down.

“C-can we stop,” Jamie asks, one hand clutching his forehead. “I’m-I’m starting to f-feel dizzy again.”

“Of course,” you say with a fake smile on your face. As much as it’s nice to have a break, you’re almost there and you don’t want to stop, you just want to get there. But you’re not going to force him to keep going and have another almost fainting incident.

Will groans loudly but walks off the road to lean against a tree. He sinks to the ground and stretches his legs out and rotates his ankles. Kyle sets Jeannie down and he and the rest of Will’s lackeys follow and sit beside him in a circle.

Noah helps Hayley to the ground and then sits in front of her. He asks her if he can see her foot to see how bad it is. She places her foot in his lap. He proceeds to take her shoe off and move her foot in different positions, which makes her hiss through her teeth. He starts massaging her foot, her pained expression turning into one of pleasure. Noah’s cheeks burn a brilliant red. Will does his best to ignore them but you catch the angry glances he makes their way.

“Just let me know when you’re feeling good again, Jamie,” you tell him, sinking to the ground, as he walks with Tanner and Jeannie to a different tree.

“I will,” he mumbles. Lilly sits down right by the road. She designated herself to be the lookout for in case someone drives by.

Another break, another chance to sit with your thoughts. At least when you’re walking you can focus on walking and how each step is getting you closer to a comfy seat and hopefully a phone. Sitting and resting has your thoughts wandering to places you don’t want to be thinking.

Like why has no one driven past yet? Most people’s work would be over by now and they should have driven past to go home. Someone should have come. Not to mention, why didn’t anyone from the school send someone down this bus route when you didn’t get to there. Why hasn’t someone come looking for you?

Also, if your phones don’t work, will the house phone? And what even is going on with the phones? Why aren’t they working?

“Did you hear that?” Noah suddenly says, straightening his back and looking past the trees.

“Hear what?” Kyle asks, looking into the forest as well.

“I thought I heard a branch snap,” he answers. He drops Hayley’s foot and stands up.

“And what? You think someone’s stalking us?” Will asks sarcastically.

“Not someone, something,” he continues sweeping the area with his eyes looking for any sign of movement.

“I don’t see anything,” you say, also standing up and looking around. You notice Hayley slipping her shoe back on her foot quickly.

“I think we should get going,” Noah says, holding his hand out to help Hayley up. She accepts his offer and he pulls her to standing. The younger kids get up and crowd around you with different levels of scared written on their faces.

“Why? There’s nothing there,” Graham says nonchalantly, although he does stand up too.

“Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” he says, turning to you, “Miss YLN?”

“Jamie, how’re you feeling?” you ask him, laying your hand on his forehead.

“I’m ready to go,” he says quickly. You think he’s a little scared, and you don’t blame him, you’re a little scared that something might be out there watching you.

“Seriously? We’ve barely been sitting,” Will says. He’s still sitting on the ground not looking any bit worried.

“I’d rather we be safe than sorry,” you say rounding the younger kids up and walking behind them back to the road. “Let’s go, guys.” Noah and Hayley following close behind you. Lilly gets up as you pass her and trails behind Noah and Hayley.

Graham, Kyle, and Adam walk after you. Will sighs heavily but eventually stands up and follows, muttering angry words with every step.

-------------------------------------------------------

You continue walking. Everyone is trying to walk faster, except for Will who is still adamant that there’s nothing there. You keep looking over your shoulder, you’re positive you’re going to see something. Your paranoia getting worse the lower the sun sets. Is it just an animal or are you in a horror movie and some machete wielding madman is after you? Would that be too cliché?

Your heart is beating so fast and for once since you started walking it’s not from the exercise. Well at least not from just the walking. That last hill really took your breath away.

You let out a relieved sigh as you round a curve and Old Man Busby’s cabin road comes into view on the right.

“Just a little further, guys!” you say happily.

Noah, who had been leading you down the road, stops suddenly and cocks his head to the left. Everyone stops behind him and looks into the forest. Unfortunately, you can’t see past the first two rows of trees. The forest is too dense and dark to see too far into.

“What is it?” Hayley leans against him and whispers.

“I’m not sure. Maybe a cougar, or maybe a wolf pack. I’ve heard more than one branch snapping, but I haven’t been able to tell if it’s one animal or more,” Noah says, he starts walking again and everyone trails behind him. Jeannie holds onto your and Kyle’s hand as she walks between you.

“And we’re just supposed to believe you? How do we even know wolves are in this forest?” Will asks.

“Why would I lie?”

“Maybe there’s a pussy you’re trying to impress, hm?” Will sneers. “One I’ve already been in? Loser like you trying to get my sloppy seconds?” Graham and Adam snigger to themselves as they walk beside him.

“Shut the fuck up, Will,” Hayley says quietly, anger radiating off her body.

“Will, that’s enough,” you say sternly, turning to look at him, Lilly’s annoyed face coming into view first before you shift your gaze to Will’s smirking one.

“Oh please. I’m just saying the truth,” he says. Kyle looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“No need to be an ass though,” he mumbles.

“What was that, bro?” Will calls out, an edge to his voice.

“Nothing, buddy ole pal,” Kyle turns and gives him an over the top smile.

“Everyone shut up!” Noah says loudly, stopping in his tracks again. Everyone, even Will, shuts their mouths and looks from side to side.

Your heart starts beating faster, adrenaline shooting through your veins. Your skin feels prickly and you have the biggest urge to just run, to get out of there. But you can’t. You need to be here for everyone.

“Whatever is out there is surveying us. Trying to find the weakest member to pick off,” Noah says quietly, putting his arm around Hayley’s shoulders. Jeannie grips your hand tightly and lets out a whimper.

“Like to eat?” she whispers.

“Let’s keep going,” Noah says. “Let’s go faster though. We’re almost at the ro--,” a loud snap to your left cuts him off.

Everyone freezes.

It was so close to the edge of the trees.

The sound of growling hits your ears next. You’re so scared that you feel like you’re trapped in a corner with no where to go. You don’t hear Noah yelling to run. You don’t hear the terrified screams of the other kids. All that you’re focused on are the yellow eyes that emerge from the trees as the first wolf takes chase.

If it wasn’t for Kyle pulling on your hand you would have just stood there becoming wolf bait.

You snap out of your terror, almost tripping over your feet. Kyle is pulling you along by the hand as you race down the road, Jeannie wrapped around his torso. Your already tired legs burn as you push them harder than you ever have before. The sound of paws hitting the road and low snarls are the only thing keeping you going.

Noah and Hayley hit the cabin’s dirt road first and they take off it, quickly getting swallowed by the trees. Jamie and Tanner are right behind them with Lilly closely following. Please don’t let Jamie get dizzy right now. I can’t lose another one.  

You dash onto the other road, the cabin coming into view about 500 metres away. You hear Graham, Will, and Adam’s feet hit the dirt road seconds after you.

Your lungs feel like they’re on fire, but you keep pushing. You feel like a wolf is going to rip you to shreds at any moment. You can hear their teeth gnashing together as they nip and bite at the air.

You can hear Tanner yelling at Jamie to hurry up and that’s when you notice that you’re almost running on top of them. Jamie stumbles and trips, landing hard on his knees and arms.

Your heart stops.

You try to stop but with your momentum you don’t have time and you run right by them. You rip your hand from Kyle’s and spin around. That’s when you see just how close the wolves are. There are six wolves running towards you. They’re huge, their backs easily up to your hips. Their sharp teeth sending shivers down your spine as they gleam and glisten with saliva in the dying light.

“Go! We got them!” Graham yells at you. Kyle grabs your hand again and pulls you after him. You put your trust in the older boys and you take off running again. If you don’t, you’d be wolf chow and then what good would you be to the kids?

Noah and Hayley get to the door, swinging it open and running inside, Lilly running in right after. Thank fucking god it’s unlocked.  They peek their heads out, shouting at you to hurry.

You’re so close.

You push your legs harder. Your breath barely coming out. A stitch in your side so painful you want to cry.

A shrill scream rips through the air just as your feet hit the wood floors of the cabin, right behind Kyle and Jeannie. Graham, with a small body in his arms, then Adam, then Will follow after you seconds later. Will throws his body against the door to shut it. You stare at them as the screams continue to ring out.

Why are they only carrying one? What happened?

Nine pairs of eyes stare at you. Lilly covers her ears to block out the screaming. Tears pour down Hayley’s face.

As suddenly as the screams started, they stop just as fast, getting cut off like someone paused a song.

The deafening silence settles around you, its thick fingers wrapping around your throat, suffocating you in its oppressive embrace.

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Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had fun writing it. I’m super excited for the next couple chapter as JK will be making his appearance soon!

Tagged: @sugalarity

[writeintrees]

Carter Part 1 of 4

Summary: This is it, Carter is going to die here. His torturers are relentless and no one is coming for him. At least that is what he thinks until a mysterious stranger busts into the building searching for their sister. Carter is brought to the rebels, who surprise him, keeping him on his toes and helping him to work through a few things. This group is so happy and kind and better than he could ever dream of. 

Found family, trans mc, chronic pain mc, trauma, hurt/comfort

Content warnings: torture (simple physical injury and neglect), blood, low self esteem, negative self talk, history of physical and mental abuse from family and a partner, self harm scars, panic attack, getting triggered, derealization, dissociation

3155 of 15060 words total

part 2, part 3, part 4

“Just kill me.” Carter says, his eyes staring at the floor. “I’m not going to tell you anything.”

No one knows he is here. Hell, it will probably be days before anyone notices he is missing. And his neighbors or boss would not know where to look even if they did care about him. Everything about his life is shallow attachments and long hours at home alone. No one will even miss him when he is dead, he thinks bitterly. There is no use in stringing this out. 

“We have ways of making you talk.” The woman says with an oil slick of a smile. Two box braids run down the back of her head. The hair ombres to platinum blonde as it goes. She reaches to run her finger reverently over some metal instrument. Which one it is does not make much of a difference to Carter. He is sure it will hurt. They can hurt him in a thousand ways, he is not doubting their skills. He just has significant experience with pain.

He has no idea why this random vase is so important to them. He just knows he hates these people to his core and does not want them getting whatever they want. They will likely kill him anyway so what is a little more pain to cause these fuckers further frustration. Maybe his life is good for something after all. He would not hate going down fighting for something even if he does not know what is going on.

“I’m sure you do. But any pain you inflict will either be something I’ve felt before or it will make me pass out. Pain isn’t new to me. Just do yourself a favor and save your time and energy. A clean body is easier to dispose of anyway.” He cringes a little at the self loathing that creeps into his voice. He hopes they will not keep him alive just because of that. 

The woman does not seem to hear his words though as she grabs a blade. “You’ve never had to deal with me before.”

-------------

Cuts litter his exposed skin, oozing clotting blood over the textures of existing scars. Some he is proud of and some he is trying to accept as part of his story. The one that puckers around his right shoulder. The twin curves under his pecs. The cigarette burns and parallel white stripes along his wrists, belly, and thighs. 

He breathes steadily and stares straight ahead. The woman brushes the flyaways angrily from her forehead. “Fine. Let’s kick it up a notch.” Her eyes are wild when she pulls out the pliers. Before he registers what is happening, she grabs his hand tight to the point of feeling his bones shift against each other. With a sickening tug there is the feeling of a thousand paper cuts. She grins as he gasps. She inflates with confidence at being back in control. She walks slow circles around Carter’s heaving body while preening, taking in his pain while she sips from a water glass. He scrunches his eyes closed for a moment, struggling to breathe through the newfound pain before it settles into the background with all of his existing pain. 

After a minute he looks up at her with newfound boredom stemming from dissociation. Mostly through depression and having to accept the pain because it does not fucking stop. 

She grabs his hair roughly and tugs his head back at an uncomfortable angle. He stares at the ceiling beside her head. There is a crack in one of the tiles and another has a brown stain on it. Must be from water damage. Or some other fluid, knowing this place. He does not actually know this place, has no idea if these torturers have set up shop here or if it is just an abandoned building they are using as a one-off.

“Hey!” She spits. “Look at me while I’m talking to you!” She pulls him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even realized she was talking. “As I was saying, you’d better tell me where the vase is or I’ll have to make things worse for you.”

“Don’t waste your time. I’ll bleed out before I tell you.” His voice betrays just how tired he is. He hopes it lends him credibility.

With a yell she grabs both of his shoulders and… he is on the floor and his chest refuses to expand. The room is spinning and his head has a sharp pain at the back. He dully remembers a loud crack and now his head is against the pavement, his chair toppled with him still tied securely to it. It takes him a few dizzying minutes to be able to breathe again and when he is able to it hurts like a motherfucker. His ribs and abs hurt with each intake of breath. He thinks she might have kneed him in the gut but he is not sure.

“Be ready for more tomorrow.” She laughs callously. There is a clack and the screech of a door barely on its hinges. “Get him into his cell.” Her voice is distant and reverberates through the passageways outside this concrete room. 

There are two sets of footsteps. It is too bright with the lights bearing down on him, but then there are shadows over him and wrestling his arms and legs out of their restraints. They fumble with the ropes across his chest before one of them makes an irritated noise with a low voice. Carter reflexively cringes at that sound. No matter how many years later, he always cringes, wants to stay small and quiet. That is probably why he doesn’t cry out or have a witty comeback when the world goes tipping on its axis again. He hangs his head and focuses on not throwing up from the vertigo. His ankle hurts and he shifts his leg to see a large strip of skin has been taken out by the rough edge of the chair leg as he was righted.

The rope comes loose and he almost goes careening to the floor. It seems too close, like gravity is pulling him from two directions. It is a good thing that the two guards -- or whatever they are -- grab him by the shoulders and manhandle him to his feet. When he stumbles they jab sharply into his ribs but the increase in pain makes him even more out of it. He is way beyond the point of pain sharpening his senses. His brain is floating miles away and watching this whole scene play out through a small screen. 

The cell is concrete too because of course it is. This whole place is gray and sharp and uncomfortable. Heat immediately begins seeping from him when he faceplants onto the unforgiving ground and embeds grit into his knees and the heels of his hands. 

As the door scrapes closed he tries to come up with something witty to say. He is stuck on what he had been telling the torturer for hours. “You don’t fucking listen to reason do you?”

And with that he is closed into the room.

It is more of a closet in dimensions. Maybe they split a normal room into smaller cells. All he knows is it is small and dark. The only light comes from the seams around the door and from a crack in the wooden ceiling above him. And all the light reveals is the texture of the rocks petrified in the walls and the thick, wet dust in the air. There is the muffled sound of screaming through the ceiling.

He is still shirtless. The air is room temperature but he finds himself shivering. He wraps his arms gingerly around his sides as he lies down on his side. Sitting causes a hot, sick feeling to rise in him from the torn muscles in his abdomen. His throat constricts and he mumbles to himself “don’t throw up don’t throw up” until it passes. He pulls his knees up one by one with his hands, not trusting his hips to do the work. The blood across his skin is mostly dry and he still has his pants. It could be worse, he thinks as another shiver wracks through his body and causes a dull oof to escape his lips when his abs tense. The cuts itch and he closes his eyes tight against the memories. 

The next day is more of the same. Cuts and burns and a lot of punching. Every time he makes a sound she has this slimy smile that scares him more than the pain to be honest. She looks at him like an ant she is about to set fire to and he knows that she will draw this out for as long as she can. 

He is able to stay on his feet the next time they shove him into his cell. That is a victory. He smiles and keeps eye contact with the guards as they heft the door shut. This time there is food and a ratty old blanket waiting for him. The wrapped hamburger is cold but he eats it so fast that his stomach hurts. The blanket smells like dogs and piss but he wraps it around his shoulders anyway. He is unable to lower himself to the ground so he sits propped up in the corner and the blanket takes the skin gouging power of the concrete down two notches. 

There is a jittery feeling under his skin that he recognizes from the times he has forgotten to fill his pill case. Withdrawal. It fucking sucks but when all of the medications leave his body over the course of the next few days he realizes with a pang that most of them did not help anyway. Well that is one way to rule them out. The ones meant to work towards his fibro at least. The rib pain is back with a vengeance and fire streaks through his joints with the pangs of emotion.

As it nears a week he gives up on them listening to reason. He does not give up on the witty retorts though. Even if there is no reaction to them. He feels delirious, spewing out half-formed comebacks that might not even make sense. Sometimes they are in response to what the torture lady has done in his dreams. Reality is frayed at the edges and he has no reason to work to repair it again. He just laughs in the face of it all. Maybe if they see his sanity slipping they will give up on him finally. 

Instead he just gets new forms of torture, them ramping up their techniques thinking he will talk. Even the thought makes him laugh. The worse they are, the more resolute he is that he will never give them anything. They cannot take away his spirit and he will fight until his dying breath. He revels in their frustration just as they revel in every flinch and gasp and scream that comes from his mouth. And there are more than he can count. More injuries across his skin than his many moles and more bruises beneath. He throws up blood one of the many times they make the pain bad enough for his stomach to empty its contents. He spits the acid onto his torturer’s boots and she plants her toe into his diaphragm.

Back in the cell he is leaned up against the wall. His pants are tattered but not in a trendy way. They are also stiff with blood. His skin is blotchy with cuts and burns and bruises. Some of the older ones have gone to green-yellow between where new ones overlap. 

His eyes follow up the grey wall to that cracked floorboard. He used to rock climb once upon a time. Maybe if his abs heal he could try scaling up to the ceiling and prying the board loose. Even though every part of his body is worse each day than it was the last, he clings to that impossible fantasy of escape as he drifts into fitful rest.

In the morning of his eighth day he hears noises. He is no sooner conscious than the door is thrown open. He prepares himself to make the guards’ jobs as difficult as possible but the scowl on his face gives way to confusion. Instead of the two normal guards, there is someone entirely new. They are wearing all black but hold themself with authority, hand-gun poised at the ready. Their brown hair is tied into a ponytail down their back that swishes as they turn to move onward.

“Wait! Who are you?” What is going on? 

They stop with only one foot visible through the opening of the door. “Do you know where the others are kept?” Their voice is cold.

“I think there’s someone in the next cell over.” He tries to push himself to stand but his vision spots and slants and he is back on his hands and knees. Heat splotches across his skin sickly. He focuses on his breathing.

“Hey, are you okay?” They have entered his cell and are knelt in front of him, one hand on his shoulder. 

Carter laughs bitterly. “Do I look okay?” 

They grimace, their eyes wandering over the cuts and bruises and brands that litter his skin. “I’m looking for my sister. Do you want to come with us?”

He looks into their eyes, astonished. Why would they help him? He had already come to terms with dying here. There was nothing beyond getting through the day. Now the unknown opening up in front of him is dizzying. He nods, not trusting himself to speak past the flood of thoughts and emotions through his mind. He tries to get up but has to fight the sudden nausea that sweeps over him. That causes a little panic. He needs to not fall behind. He needs to not slow them down. This is his only chance.

A hand grasps his upper arm -- with a grip so unlike the guards -- and helps him to his feet with care. He thinks that the hard mask from before must have taken a lot of concentration for them to keep up. It has fallen into concern which settles naturally onto their features. The stiff blanket has come halfway off but he pulls it up with him anyway. Once they see that he seems steady on his feet, they walk back to the threshold and glance back at him to check if he is following. He hurries into the hallway, pulling the blanket tight around him.

It is an incredibly different experience from the days previous. He is able to walk freely and take in the details that he was oblivious to amid his fear and pain. His rescuer types in a code to the door and is pulling at the handle before the latch even clicks open. Light floods the room to reveal a shape in the corner.

“Tasha?” They call tentatively. The person bolts upright, looking towards them with unfocused eyes. They run to her side and fuss over her in a blur of hands. “Tash. Oh my goodness what did they do to you? Where are you hurt?” They keep pulling their hands back, drawn to the visible injuries but scared to touch them. Her body looks much the same as Carter’s own with cuts and bruises. She has on torn pants and a sports bra. Her hair is the same shade of brown as her sibling’s but shorter, more of a bob.

“Em? Emille, how…? What?” She mumbles out. 

Emille is frantically struggling out of their black jacket. They tug the sleeves off inside out then try to force it onto their sister whose eyes have fallen onto Carter. He shuffles awkwardly, hoping his presence will not crowd or overwhelm his fellow torturee. Her head lolls slightly as her sibling manhandles her. Her eyes are glazed over in a way that tells him she is not hearing much of what they are saying. 

Emille is unraveling before them. “God damn those fucking bastards are going to pay. Tell me everything they did so I can do ten times worse I swear to fucking-”

“Can you stand?” Carter interrupts.

Tasha’s eyes focus slightly. He wonders if he just imagined it with how the silence stretches on. “Yeah.” She rasps finally. She grabs onto her sibling’s shoulder and they stand together, walking towards the door with Emille’s gaze concerned and unmoving from their sister.

“Alright then. I assume you didn’t incapacitate everyone so we should get going, yeah?” Carter waits for Emille’s response. They nod and start striding confidently back into the hall. He follows their lead. The way Tasha steps on only half of her left foot leads him to believe at least a couple toes are broken. She does not complain though. If she did it would probably cause Emille to stop on the spot. She might realize this or she might just be used to hiding the injuries to keep the torturers from that satisfaction. He would understand that too.

Carter has never been to this side of the building. There is very little that he has seen, to be fair. They go up a back staircase slowly. The way Tasha swings her legs up makes him think that her hips have been injured.

When the door opens the light is blinding. But he has very little time to adjust because no sooner does the door swing open than there is yelling echoing behind them. The siblings shuffle out and he follows blindly and almost eats it when the ground drops out from under him. He catches himself with a straightened leg and the shock echoes all the way through his body and rattles his already concussed head. He sucks in a breath and steadies himself. Alarms start blaring from the building behind.

Emille is helping Tasha into a red SUV. Carter walks himself to the car and lets himself into the back seat. 

Emille rushes around into the driver’s seat. “Let’s get the hell out of here!” 

Carter’s head knocks against the headrest behind him. He shuts his eyes against the headache that blossoms around the back of his skull. He keeps his eyes closed for most of the jolty drive. He is pretty sure Emille runs some red lights and takes turns way too quickly. Eventually the drive evens out into a gentle drift from start to stop and back again. 

It is comforting knowing he gets a break and feeling his body heat being bounced back by the fabric of the car seat. He hopes he is not getting blood on it. He can always come back to clean it later. For now he is just taking slow breaths and reveling in it all.

next chapter

[herstarburststories]

the night hurt us.

A/N: Hey. Hope you guys like it. I had to keep Jason from calling his S/O "doll" and similarities.

Also, we hurt in the night, so the night hurt us back and we hurt the night, and so the night hurt us back are so related somehow.

Beta is @lyss-91, thanks.

Request: Helloo, I was wondering if I could request a Jason Todd (Titans) where y/n and him are working together and one of them gets hurt badly leading to confessions (and possibly mild smut)?? Love your writing!! Thank you x

Disclaimer: mild smut (I haven't write any related to smut so it may be a not so good part), the usual violence.

━─┈ ✧

"Easy like that? The big bad bat let you go chasing your childhood idol?" You asked while punched another bag of ribs, making the man grow in pain. "I'm sorry. That wasn't the kind of moan you were expecting tonight?" You questioned rhetorically, disgust almost dripping from your tongue, so different of your tone just seconds ago.

"Yeah. Kind of. I need to hand him some fills. People he used to know are dying." Jason, or Robin as he was dressed of, explained and kicked the rapist's accomplice calf muscle which leaded him to fall on the ground. His face was already painted in blood, but neither of you cared. By how you saw it, he deserved it. Even worse. What kind of monster rapes 3 women in one week? Surely a type that won't be able to speak for months. "The police couldn't do their job as usual and they crawled to us. Batman told me to go after him with the information as soon as he noticed. He knew I wanted to meet the old Robin."

Jason's man stood up again, apparently not tired of getting hurt over and over again. Well, that wasn't the worst thing that Todd would deal with. In fact, beating up a freaking scoundrel constantly was very appreciated by him.

"Combine business with pleasure. Try not to pester him for an autograph." You teased him, a delighted smile on your lips. Jason lived for reading about Robin when he was younger, suddenly he became Robin himself and now the boy was going to actually met the first person who wore his cape. As you smacked the man you were fighting's jaw from the down to the top, a kind of selfish thinking invaded your head. "How long you will be gone?"

"Two days. A week if most." He shrugged, not really paying attention to that. Another punch, Robin huffed. "You are making it way too easy, man. But could I expected from a tool who covers his friends for fucking raping woman, huh?" Jason threw him against a vehicle, your car, often beating up his face. "Are you missing me already?"

"Please. It will be the best days of my life." You resorted his innocent, usual provocation. "And be careful with my car. I don't want his blood all over my baby." Hiding your early melancholy for being apart from home, even just for a little amount of time, you finished your criminal by giving him a knee against his teeth. Your lips opening way for the imagine of your own teeth, a proud smile giving in. Unlike him, there was nothing brooke inside your mouth. "Touch a woman one more time and what just happened will feel like a fucking carnival compared to what we are going go make you go through." You used the same offensive expression he'd call the girl who had ran away at the begging of this combat.

"That's hot." Jason smirked, referring to how you would handle that situation and put that asshole in his place, right after he stopped the hitting circle, throwing the unconscious man away. You rolled your eyes, checking if the man was still awake, your back facing Robin. Time for you to call the police, if the neighborhood hadn't yet. Since there was no sound of sirens, the answer must be negative. You couldn't say it was surprisingly. After all, that was Gotham. People didn't want to mess with maskered psychos or anyone else, to be exactly. "You know, you could co—"

Jason's speech was interrupted by a grunt. You recognized this hoarse voice, retraing his pain as if it was some sort of overload weakness. You worked with him on partner patrols for long enough to know how a hurt him sounded like. Yet you'd never hear that, a grunt substituted by a rigid shout. He was in more pain than you'd ever be conscious of.

When you turned around, ready to face what made your heart throbbing, the man who Robin fought was found with such a sharpy penknife embed in Jason's back. Before he'd attack him from the back again, you jumped his direction, your injured hand from the previously disturbance grabbing a knife to situate that on his skin. Which was made only a few seconds later, you stabbed his stomach twice and then rested your white weapon against his used hand to harm your friend. His whinny screaming got you even angrier.

"Shut the hell up. At least I didn't attack you from behind like a coward."  You growled, putting your knife back inside your night uniform, kneeling down beside Jason. "Robin, are you okay? Fuck, of course you are not okay. I'll call Alfred, just help me to get you in the car." You said exasperated. You never dealt with a situation like this. Sure, you did hurt a couple of bad people so bad they needed to rush to the hospital, even a come once. Through they were horrible human beings, your sense of revenge for the ones who couldn't get it themselves always louder than that tiny guilty part. You didn't care. Otherwise, you were in front of a bleeding Jason who couldn't even stand up straight this time. It was different.

Everything with him as different.

You put his hands over your shoulders while you held his torso, walking baby steps, calm and soft, there was no need to hurt him even more, when both of you attempted to reach the car. Ultimately, you opened the car's door and put Jason in, trying to be as gentle as you possible could.

"Thought you didn't want blood all over your precious car." His weak voice tried a joke, although it came out as coughs and drops of blood.

"For once in your life, Jason. Please shut up. For your own good." You replied, the tone coming out of your throat sounded fragile, almost like the closest way you'd be from begging.

"Come on, (Y/N). You are no fun. I'll be okay to rip off more stupids soon and—" He noticed your state, but didn't think it was serious. You were worried. As much as it pleased him a lot, it wasn't uncommon for someone to be a trembling mess when their friend was bleeding on teir automobile.

"Jason, please. If not for yourself, for me." After closing the back door, you went to the driver's place, sitting there and turning on your car. Jason was dizzy, in pain and feeling what he'd assume was his heart beating trough his whole body as he pressed his hand against the wound to keep blood from slipping away, but that scene was clear as looking at the sun: you, sat down, eyelids pressed together hardly, fingernails cutting part of your steering wheel because of how strongly you were holding it. That was just a microsecond before you recovered your mind and opened your fearless (Y/E/C) orbs, — a piece of fear inside them, pictures by non poured particles of water, tears of pure worry that you didn't let cross the line between your cheeks and the exterior world. — enlaced with his image on the car's prismatic rear-view mirror and speed up to the Batcave. Fortunately, one of your strong sides from your training were reflexes, so you were able to watch Jason, the street and call Alfred at the same time, the only thing you couldn't control, yet were so desperately making an effort to, were how your head ached from keeping tears, how your sobs choked you up, how you denied any thought on how may Jason didn't make it. Because he needed to. Gotham needed him to. You needed him to.

"Don't worry, Miss (Y/N). Master Jason will be recuperated soon." Alfred announced, taking off his dirty gloves, covered be the current Robin's blood, other liquids of his organism and medical things that you couldn't pay attention to. "Master Bruce will be here as soon as he can."

"Joker causing trouble again?" You'd ask, glancing an all tied up Jason. He looked better, indeed. Healthier. Alfread was such a lifesaver as he always had been, since Bruce was just a kid, even before Bruce was even born. For now, you were just grateful for him to be here.

"I am afraid so."

"Thank you, Alfred." You thanked him with a warm smile. He just nodded, grabbing his surgical tray.

"I will bring you some tea. And then let me exanimate you." Didn't sound like a question to your ears, because it wasn't. You pouted like a kid, but it didn't matter. Alfred had enough work on Jason, and calming you down while helping him. He didn't need to be busier now.

"Alfred."

"Please, Miss (Y/N)." You sighed, aware that would be a helpless cause. After all, some band-aids sounded good at this point.

"Okay." Then, Alfred left. And you are back to glaring Jason. Blood a hundred per cent inside him, exactly where it was supposed to be. His features calm, as if he was getting the rest he'd be rooting for. You put your hand above his, caressing it.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)." A quiet voice spoke, and you raised your head, looking into his green eyes. "For worrying you."

"Jason, you are the one in this room who just got a kind of surgery or medical preceding, I don't care." You shook your head. The image of Jason between life and dead playing in your head like a sick game. "The fact is, you were the one dying. You shouldn't apologize."

"It was a stupid mistake. I failed somehow I shouldn't have." You took a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. Here he was again, too worried about his performance to even think about his life.

"Jason, you didn't fail. Everyone makes mistakes. Batman won't be disappointed on you and neither should you. Next time, watch your back. Be sure the idiot isn't up. You already know it, don't beat yourself for this slide. Just..." He looked down, facing your hand on his, such a beautiful contrast. The look in your eyes didn't leave his memories, how horrified you were. Adding the fact that Jason wasn't able to do nothing about it, that was what hurt the most. Not that fucking stab, or the stitches Alfred would use to fix him. What mattered were you. How scared you were. You needed him by your side and he wasn't there. "Just be happy that you are here. Alive. With me."

He looked up to you, his arm moving to place his hand on your face. Some annoying pain showed up, but he didn't mind. You leaned in to help him, your own hand making its way to his neck while the other one worked as your support, holding on his sretcher.

"I swear I won't worry you like that anymore." Jason caressed your chin. For the first time, you let a solitary tear fall down your cheek, which he quickly still delicate washed away. "I hate to see you cry, especially about me. I told you I would be okay. What's a stupid bastard against the fucking Robin?"

"Holy shit, I can't believe I'm in love with such an idiot." You huffed, closing your eyes, kind afraid of what he was going to answer.

"You better believe it. Because I'm an idiot and I'm also in love with you." He pulled you closer as your eyes opened. His finger stroking your skin, both smiling lips getting closer, closer, closer...

No one knows who started it, but a kiss emerged from a long time of secret feelings. Calm at first, just two young people trying to figure out how it felt to be adored, to be loved, to feel. It was like home itself, after waiting so long in a trip, you finally got where you knew that was your soul's place. But things started to get a little too touchy.

"Come here." Jason whispered between kisses, pulling you to the medical bed he was laid on.

"I don't wanna hurt you." You intercepted, biting his neck while both tried to regain oxygen.

"That's the last thing you will do." He said, his hands going down on your back. You grinned and got in the stretcher, carefully to not hurt him more.

Jason smiled openly, grabbing your butt as you came back to his lips. Your hand coming inside his shirt to touch his well defined abdomen. How long have you been dreaming about this? Being able to touch him regardless, hearing his moans because of how good you made him feel. And by the way he possessively hold your ass, you could tell he felt just the same. Sitting on his lap, it was obvious that Jason was getting very excited with your little foreplay. His kiss got rougher, you pressed your clothed parts together only to get that dense voice to moan your name.

Until another voice said your name.

"Miss (Y/N), could you get off Master Jason? And master Jason, let go off Miss (Y/N), please." Alfred walked in and you jumped off Jason scared, falling to the ground. Needless to say your soon to be boyfriend laughed his ass off after checking up you were okay.

[dwaynepride]

Silence Broke The Levees

When Tammy is stabbed and rushed into surgery, reader tries to be strong in the wake of frayed nerves and a quiet hospital room. / tammy and breaks down in front of them pleas?? 

Words: 1,715

Warnings: a knife wound

Tags: @tammy-gregorio @pageofultron @stanathanxoox @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

Notes: I didn’t plan on this being a oneshot but the gay gods shined their light down upon me for this angst

The hard knot twisting your stomach tight can’t possibly be as painful as whatever Tammy is feeling right now.

God, you feel guilty for even thinking that the knot hurts. It’s surely nothing compared to the feeling of knife in your gut. Having a sharp, serrated piece of metal stabbed into the soft bit of your stomach, right below the ribs.

Tammy’s lucky she made it to the hospital. Screw Pride and his ‘the knife didn’t hit anything important.’ Did he see how much blood there was? Did he hear Tammy trying to talk and breath? Her little yelps of pain that she tried to keep muffled because she’s so damn tough, but the pain was obviously too much. Those sounds still echoed around in your head and they won’t go away.

Pacing back and forth in the waiting area, you tried to focus your thoughts on the last interaction you had with Tammy before the stabbing. Unfortunately, it wasn’t anything miraculous or romantic. You both just sat next to each other at breakfast, conversing with the rest of the team about the current case. She asked you to pass the syrup and you handed it over without a word. You didn’t even tell her you loved her today.

That’ll change. You’ll tell her every chance you get.

And you’ll make her wear a vest more often. Tammy wouldn’t have gotten stabbed if she wore a damn vest. If it can stop a bullet, it can stop a knife-

“Y/N, dear.”

Loretta’s voice cuts into your frantic thoughts. Makes your head whip up from staring at the ground, watching your feet walk back and forth. And Loretta doesn’t seem worried. At least, not as worried as you thought she outta be. “What?” You asked her flatly.

“You’re making me dizzy, all that pacing around. Sit down before you wear a hole in the floor,” Loretta says, her hand patting the chair beside hers.

Sit down? She wants you to sit down when Tammy could be bleeding to death? You shake your head, arms crossing over your chest while staring at the double doors she disappeared through.

You hear Loretta sigh before she stands and comes up next to you. One of her hands is on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. Somehow, it does make you feel better. If only a little. “She’s going to be fine, you know.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Your attention whips back to the coroner, eyebrows drawn low. And you don’t mean to be so negative with her, but how could she be certain? “You didn’t see how much Tammy was bleeding. When people lose that much blood...”

Your voice trails off, not having the will to finish the sentence.

But Loretta caught on to what you’re saying. And her hand squeezes your shoulder just a little harder. “I know because she’s strong, and she has someone like you waiting for her after surgery,” she says calmly. And you wished so hard that you could believe her.

Your attention drifted from Loretta when those double doors opened back up, and an older-looking doctor came walking through. His gloves and coat had some blood smeared on it, but not a lot. That was a good thing, right? You couldn’t help but hold your breath as he neared, wanting to meet him halfway but your legs didn’t seem to want to work.

“Are you both here for Agent Gregorio?”

You nod viciously, and your feet finally find it within themselves to take a step closer. “Is she okay? Did she...”

Dammit. Again with not being able to finish a whole sentence before the fear takes over.

But the doctor gives a little smirk. And his head is nodding. “Oh, she’s fine. The stab wound wasn’t too deep. It nicked one of her intestines, so we had to repair the damage....”

His words faded out of existence. You saw his mouth moving. Felt Loretta hug your arm and pat your shoulder. But everything was mostly just white noise. Nothing had any substance, as if the air was sucked out of the room so sound couldn’t travel.

Tammy was fine.

That’s all you needed to hear.

“Can I see her?”

Your question brought sound back to the world. Almost all at once, so you winced a little when a nurse called something out across the hall.

The doctor nods again. “She’s asleep right now, and if she wakes up, she’ll probably be a little out of it. But you’re more than welcome to wait by her bedside.”

He walks away, and you don’t move for a few moments after he does. Not until Loretta gives you a small push toward the doors. When you look back to her, she’s smiling wide. Eyes full of relief that Tammy really was okay, and you knew you should look the same. You were still a little numb, though. “Go on. Go to her. I’ll call Dwayne and everybody else,” she says before motioning away.

Your feet take slow steps. And then normal ones. By the time you’re through the double doors and closing in on Tammy’s room, you’re nearly jogging.

Her door comes up, and your shoes make a sharp sound against the tile at your sudden stop. The blinds are drawn and the door is closed all the way; you remember the doctor saying she was asleep. You’ll have to be quiet, because the last thing you’re going to do is wake her up. Not when she needs all the rest she can get.

The door handle is freezing cold, but you grip and turn it anyway. Pushing the door open slowly until you see Tammy laying there, blanketed in stark white sheets, connected to a bunch of wires. As much as it was a relief to hear her heartbeat on the monitor, she just seemed so...small in that bed. Fragile, almost. Her skin paler than it outta be because of the blood loss, and it looks no better under hospital lights.

Carefully, you shut the door behind you and make your way to her bedside. And honestly, you expect Tammy to wake up any moment. Blink her eyes open and look at you and spout some smart comment about how you worried for nothing. That you look terrible with that messy hair and red eyes with tear streaks going down your cheeks. Right now, you’d take anything you can get.

She stays asleep, though. And she does look peaceful, despite her worrying appearance.

You fall into the chair sitting beside her bed, and you’re just silent. What should you be doing? Talking to her? No, she was just sleeping, not in a coma. Loretta was calling the rest of the team. And you didn’t exactly have the nerve to pull out your phone and try to busy yourself with it. Maybe you should go for a walk or something. Or maybe call Sebastian, because he outta be just as worried as you were-

Something fell down your cheek; warm and wet and pulling your attention away from Tammy for a moment. Your hand went up to wipe it away quickly. Why the hell were you still crying? Tammy was fine. Alive. You can hear her heart monitor, and if you looked up, her chest would be rising and falling with each breath.

And yet, you were crying again. Another tear fell down your cheek before you hastily wiped that one away, too. No, you weren’t going to cry at Tammy’s bedside. You had to be strong, in case she woke up. She might be confused and disorientated and even a little scared...

Dammit. The tears kept coming, and there was no stopping them. A hurricane of shock and frayed nerves stormed inside of you and the levees of your willpower finally burst under the heavy silence. Your elbows hit your knees, face buried in your hands to try and muffle the crying as best as you can. But it was hard, and it’s not like there was anything in the room to drown it out.

If only Tammy was awake right now. If only you could talk to her. If only-

“Hey, why’re you crying?”

Her voice was strained and tired, but undeniably Tammy’s. And as much as you wanna burst out of your chair and get as close as possible, you’re still crying like a child. So you lift your head only enough to see her out of your hands, still trying to stem the crying and wipe the tears away. “I dunno,” you answer her truthfully. The tears came without warning.

She blinks tiredly, inhaling deeply and shifting just enough so she can better face you and your tear-soaked face. “I’m fine. Don’t worry,” she mumbles. And as weak as she looks, she still manages to hold out a hand. Fingers beckoning for yours.

You use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe some tears before reaching out and gripping her hand tightly. It went a long way in assuring that she really was okay, but the tears kept coming. “I was so scared. There was so much blood, Tammy. And I was waiting for so long; nobody would tell me anything. I didn’t know what to do.” Well, so much for being strong. You babbled out the words while the tears kept falling, unable to hold them back.

Tammy didn’t seem to mind, though. She was so much stronger than you; Loretta was right about that. You were so ready to be the strong one here. To be there for Tammy if she needed you. It never occurred to you that the situation would be reversed.

Her hand squeezed yours, albeit weaker than normal. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a knife to take me away.” Her voice is tired, but so firm in that belief that you had no choice but to believe it.

You take a shaky breath and nod your head. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you. I love you so much.”

Tammy’s lips pull up at your words. Her eyes were half-lidded, like she was about to fall asleep any moment. And that was okay, because the tears were starting to dry up, and you told you that you loved her.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Without Question (3)

Steve Rogers x Reader

Content: Little fluff, angst

Warnings: None.

Word Count: Do not take the days when you are healthy for granted and do eat vegetables. Please.

A/N: Feedback is always welcome. Let me know through any means (ask/comments/reblogs/messages) if you’d like to be tagged in the fic.

MASTERLIST

Your room is silent again. The fear laden breaths now calm.

What the hell was that about?

The nightmare felt real. Way too real inside your head.

You looked around your room again, moving your fingers over the white sheets covering you, trying to absorb the silent reality through your skin by feeling the soft cotton under your tips before the surface changed to a coarser material.

Your jeans.

Even though the Avengers facility’s staff had provided you with all the amenities within your room, somehow a change of clothes for the night had slipped their mind.

Not their fault, really, you think to yourself, I wasn’t even supposed to wake up for two months. Missed some quality sleep right there.

Well, at least your brain was the usual weird self.

Taking a relieved sigh your hands involuntarily move to your throat pulsating with thirst. You turn towards the side of the bed to look at the empty glass bottle resting there.

Right, I’d filled up Stacie’s bowl.

Despite the gruff feeling inside your throat, your body sits still under the sheets only to finally throw your head back into the pillow as you rub your tired eyes and groan.

“Fuck,” you erupt into the air around you before getting up, sliding your jeans over your dry legs and picking up the bottle. Stacie sleeps by the edge of the bed, clearly tired from showering you with all the love in one night as she does not even budge when you get up from the bed and move away.

With one final deep inhale, you twist the door handle and step out into the corridor.

Soft lights overhead mark the path for you- as if someone had dimmed the brightness for the night, which amazed you even though you knew whose home this was- making it watch your step. As much as you wanted to call out to Friday to know where the kitchen- or the nearest place to get drinkable water in this fabulously furnished labyrinth- was, you are scared of disturbing someone who might have been up at this hour.

Registering the weight of your phone in your jeans, you pull it out to look at the time. Nearly twenty minutes to two in the morning.

The entrance to the corridor where the elevator stood comes into your view, making you take long strides in its direction and open it with urgency.

The reflective insides of the mobile space greet you after a ding, making a cold wave rush through your entire body as you are reminded of the recent nightmare. Immediately your eyes revert away from your reflection, taking a one-eighty turn as soon as you step into the elevator.

Forests and open space, you repeat to yourself.

Forests and open space.

The elevator buttons have different letters for different floors except for the first floor, which you are sure led to anywhere but the kitchen. Picking the first thing that clicks in your mind, you press TF.

Why? Why would you choose that?

A tiny voice calls inside your head.

I don’t know, woman! My stomach read it and all I could see was The Food. The Food!

Sigh.

You really should’ve just slept.

The elevator opens to a similar large hallway that goes down into a corridor. You step out cautiously but not before there’s a tinkle of a tiny bell that makes your heart jump.

It takes you a moment to realise the sound is from the bracelet half-hanging from your pocket out of which you pulled your phone just moments ago.

Don’t lose that, Y/N, you scold yourself, as you remember safely tucking it in your pocket before you’d decided to plant the cherry blossom in your backyard. Carefully stretching the intricate red threadwork, you slide the bracelet over your fingers and around your left wrist. The little silver bell chimes again. Feeling the sound won’t be much to wake someone up from their sleep, you walk down the corridor to find what you came for.

This labyrinth turns into a hallway of blue walls with glass standing on one side at certain intervals that emanate nothing but darkness from the other side unless you stop and look closely enough to make out shapes of different pieces of equipment kept in there that the soft glow of the light above you tries its best to outline- without turning off any alarms inside your head- for your tired eyes.

Thump.

A sound comes from somewhere in front of you making you stop and evaluate your senses.

Silence.

A tired and frustrated exhale leaves your lungs.

Thump, thump.

You freeze again.

The repeated thumping slowly takes you down a turn like a piper, making you forget the looming darkness overhead as the periodic lights that once lit your way now lie dead in this hallway.

The walls are blue here too; relatively a tone darker and cold to the touch of your fingers lightly grazing over them. The thumping grows heavier as you see an opening come close to you, lit up by a fluorescent white light on the inside.

Coming to a halt by the doorway, you peek inside to find it opening to a room- larger than the area your house covered- filled with workout equipment and practice rings with safety mattresses laid out in places. The walls are covered with every type of gear one at the Avengers facility can come up with. But none of this is what catches your eyes.

A low grunt escapes the man who tortures the punching bag with his fists repeatedly, his black tee drenched in sweat from the back while his dark hair glistens in its presence under the harsh light.

The source of that unsettling thumping you've been hearing.

Your brain makes a subconscious decision of holding your breath as you see every muscle on his back under the black cloth outlined perfectly- while the exposed pale skin glistens, wet from the sweat from the heat the punches have been building up inside- flexing at the movement of the bulky arms ready to rip the fabric at any moment while his legs try to keep him in place with a stance that does not help the guilt rising in your stomach as you admire the perfectly shaped rear from where you stand.

Mother of all shapes, you hear your mind speak.

As if your thoughts had spiked the air around you, the punches on the bag stop with the last one ripping the leather apart, allowing the sand to scatter on the ground, bringing you out of a dizzy trance and making you cross the distance to the other side of the doorway before you are noticed by the man.

You stand there, breathing as slowly as possible, waiting for any sounds from inside the room that may be a warning of having known your presence.

Did he see me?

A clank and a thump followed by another clank answers your question with a negative.

You breathe out with relief and walk down a few steps towards the end of the hallway marked by a window that is letting the moonlight in with all its lustre, to take a turn only to find yourself at a dead end.

No kitchen?

Even though it was obvious a few steps back, your shoulders still slump in defeat at not finding what you were looking for in a training area and your body turns around to go back and start the search all over again only to slam into a hard wall. Or someone that feels like one.

Dark blue eyes penetrate your skin with the iciest glare, making every tiny hair on your body stand up with fear that gushes through every strand of your nerves. The glass bottle slips from your cold sweaty fingers but is caught by a pale hand before it can even reach halfway to the floor. You back away from the figure only to run into the window behind you, forcing your insides to scream, the first reflexes of your body as it drowns in the sensation of fear. The brooding face comes a little closer, poetically lit partially with the moonlight- just showing the eyes while everything else is shrouded by the darkness surrounding both of you. The eyes of a beast, with a hint of a familiarity within them.

And that's when you soak in the presence of Steve Rogers towering over you, nothing like the man you saw a few hours ago as the beastly glower in his eyes sends all the worst signals inside your mind.

This was not the man you met earlier. This was someone else. This was something else.

The familiar scent drenched with the odour of sweat flares up your nostrils, making you weak in the knees, not in a good way whatsoever.

You try to gulp down the uneasiness in your throat only to be reminded by the pain of why you were seeing this in the first place.

"I," you hear your voice tremble under his dead stare, "I was looking for..." Your voice trails away into oblivion as you weakly point at the bottle that now looks so small in his huge hands.

He doesn't move.

Tiny beads of sweat line up his brows, his forehead, his cheeks, and a liquid line smoothly glides down from the side to his jaw, moving further down his neck till it mingles with the black fabric that has been seeing it for some time now. Even in this gut-wrenchingly crude aura that surrounds him, he seems no less than a God; a God who was disturbed at his most vulnerable.

What disturbs you more is the languid rise and fall of his chest at this moment when you just saw the strength that ripped apart a body that definitely weighed more than you.

Is he even human?

You finally see a movement in his eyes.

He looks away from your shaking gaze to something a bit more lower from his field of view, lower than your face even.

A sudden cold sensation over your exposed skin makes you flinch and back into the window with a loud thud, making you close up like a sensitive bud before you realise what just happened. The bell on your bracelet chimes mid-turmoil- a warning for ships heading for the rocky shores during the stormy night.

Steve's icy fingers come for your shoulder again- only this time you're ready- roaming smoothly over the marks running on the entire right side, covering the space above your collarbone. Sparks run through the wounds on his touch down your body, your exhaled breath shattering in that second. As if that wasn't enough to break the strings of strengths holding you on your legs, his exhaled warmth breath smashes over your neck and jaw, the close proximity building up the time-and-again forgotten ache inside your throat.

"Does it hurt?"

If that bottle was still in your hands right now you could swear on ever tightened muscle inside your body that it would've cracked and pierced right through your skin the moment those raspy words left his mouth and teased every one of your senses.

Your eyes close themselves; shutting out your surroundings being their best bet to survive the daze setting inside your brain.

His fingers still feel the tiny red troughs over your uneven surface as if they are trying to memorize every little indentation, every last mark, every inch of skin that was ripped apart.

"Only when I've forgotten about it," you hear yourself say.

You open your eyes to face him. The beast still lurks behind the sapphire blue that glints under the moonlight as it meets you, waiting for some undisclosed moment to come out- neither sooner, nor later.

But for now, it goes away, melting into the warm ocean that is somewhat recognisable.

__________

"Just let Friday guide you if you need anything next time."

Steve leads you back from the floor solely dedicated to a kitchen, dining room and an evening lounge- something you deem as a waste of space for people you'd dined with, in the living room while sitting on couches, watching The Addams Family as they gorged on takeouts from their favourite places.

"I'll remember that next time," you agree, holding the now filled bottle close to your chest, watching the broad shoulders in front of you and thinking how many soldiers must've followed him into battle with this view of the captain walking with a strong resolve, his gait so effortless and easy to be mesmerised by as he leads you to his room.

Wait. What?

You see him open his door, knowing full well yours is just down the hall, the very last one, in fact.

No, he's just going to his room. He's not taking you in there, woman!

"Goodnight, sir-captain, I mean!" You babble before quickly turning away, your heart coming up in your mouth as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Wait," he calls out, instantly making you stop and turn back while your free hand goes up to scratch some unseen itch on the back of your neck.

You watch him go across the room and open his closet. As he is taking out something, a shirt falls down on the floor, which he ignores as he comes back to you.

"Here," Steve hands you a pair of his sweatpants and a sweatshirt, "we only brought your dog in a hurry. We can go back in the morning-"

"Yeah, I'll go with you," you announce, nodding your head in agreement. "Thank you-"

"Please, like I said, call me Steve."

The warmth in his voice melts your tensed up heart rate.

"Thank you, Steve."

"You're welcome, Y/N."

You carefully hold his clothes in your hand as you start to walk away before turning back to him but he's already gone inside, walked across the room again to pick up the shirt that had fallen down as he aimlessly throws it on the grey loveseat by the window before reaching for the one he wore from over his head, pulling it over his back in one effortless move, exposing his worked up muscles to your curious eyes.

You can see the faint marks on his upper back, almost like nails digging into his skin and the thought sends the most frantic shivers through your core as you trespass into sacred grounds and step inside the prohibited waters when you imagine yourself being the one to leave them.

And just as you do, another image hits you, making your eyes go wide in horror, your hands go cold while your legs rush to the safety of your temporary abode.

You close the door behind you before allowing your mind to unleash the forgotten horror.

You did hold Steve like this before.

You did dig your nails in him at the very places where the marks still show. You did hold him within inches of you, grabbing him with everything you had.

All of this, you did in your nightmare this morning when you saw the black blob with fangs come for you.

Your nightmare, it seems now, was more than just a hallucination.

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[erickadracula]

Uncertainty - Chapter II

   They had finished filling the last tube with that liquid that he had trouble ignoring, although it was true that for years he had domesticated his passion for blood, there were times, from time to time since Ericka had arrived, where that sweet essence made him to be curious and have an itching in his throat. He felt very guilty the first few times in which he had apologized to the blonde during a confession in which he felt like the worst of monsters and which she only found funny and also some excitement about those dark thoughts.

   "You crave it, right? Don’t deny it." She looked at him mischievously as she withdrew the arm in which they had just injected her.

   That joke took him out of those thoughts and he broke with seriousness that scene

   "I ... I ... Ericka! why do you say that and in front of the doctor?” He felt slightly embarrassed at that inquisition, his wife knew how to make macabre jokes.

   "I would say it's more like a statement, dear." giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek, while trying to calm him down, Drac looked like a mess, his impatience was reflected in his feet that repeatedly hit the ground and the sound of him grinding his teeth.

   The doctor gave one of the nurses the tray with the samples, hoping that they would not throw them away with one of her clumsy movements, while preparing to continue with the consultation.

   “Countess, there are some routine questions that I want to ask you to make your medical history, luckily you are in good health and had not had the opportunity to attend you.” He approached her with a notebook.

   "Excuse me, could I get up while you ask me your questions?, I'm tired of being here and it would be good for me to stand up a little bit." Feeling like a patient in a hospital did not help her at all and it was making her bad.

   "I would recommend that you do not, you could suffer dizziness, wait a bit to stabilize." He approached with a chair and started to fill out a pre-designed form.

   When she heard him, she remembered how a couple of days ago she'd felt sudden dizziness, but she had considered them insignificant enough to not have mentioned them before, it must have been something that had made her feel bad or some kind of decompensation. She wondered if it was reasonable to say it in front of Drac, who would probably start with a reproach full of exaggeration for not having said it before. The vampire was a being who cared for her continuously and she avoided feeding that behavior.

   “I felt dizzy ..." she turned to see him quickly and then returned the look again to his interlocutor "A few days ago"

   Gillman did not have to be a genius to guess what that could be about.

   "Excuse me Count, but what I'm going to ask your wife is necessary." The doctor could not deny that it really bothered him that Dracula was there, but what could he do, he was used to that behavior every time someone from the family came to consultation.

   Ericka saw this situation very strange, the doctor was afraid of Dracula and did not allow him to do his job well and she frankly wanted to finish all this as quickly as possible. So, she should interfere for the poor guy.

   "Dear, maybe it's better for you to wait outside and let me talk to him alone." The doctor seemed to thank her for that suggestion deeply.

   "But why?" he raised his voice surprised, "If I am the kindest and most attentive husband there is, I have behaved well..." crossing his arms and pouting, he did not understand why he could not be present, he was not doing anything bad, more than worrying about his beloved wife, like any normal husband would do.

   "Come on! in return I promise not to work overtime, yes?” Winking at him and hoping that would work, she had played her trump card, which she reserved for special occasions. With this, he could not say no, and it happened. The poor vampire had not realized that he had left Ericka's hand red because of all the nervousness that he had, he had kept it all this time firmly grasped.

   He left as if he were a punished child, slowly and with the eyes of a puppy, she felt certain tenderness to see him like that, but now she understood why Mavis and the others disappeared to go to the doctor without telling anyone, surely this was the reason.

   She had been sitting in a chair where she could be more comfortable, or at least that she believed so, because she did not deny that getting out of bed had been a very bad idea. Each of her joints had hurt at the time of getting up, but she would not simply recognize it. She did not want to stay in that place, she had never been in a hospital and she hated it.

   “Let the formalities outside please.” She tried to break the ice and tried to remove all those formalisms that she detested, even while being a captain and while having an education based on status, titles, rankings and positions, she had never got used to that.

   "I'm more comfortable like that, Countess. The series of questions I'm going to ask you will seem intrusive..."

   "Go ahead, I know you are just doing your job." She tried crossing her legs but immediately uncrossed them because of the pain.

   “Do you and your husband take any kind of precautions?” biting his tongue at that audacity, he thought it would have been a good idea that another doctor had attended her and who would not have been cornered by those fangs. He did not want to be on his skin right now.

   “Do you mean that if we are taking care of ourselves with some type of contraceptive? I understand what you are referring to Doctor.” She laughed a little at the shyness of someone who looked professional enough to have all the confidence of the Dracula family.

   "Yes, the dizziness and fainting make me believe that you could be..."

   "Pregnant? I don’t think so Doctor, Drac and I have talked about that and we have not considered it, it is not within my plans." That was ridiculous for her and for some reason it was making her get the creeps.

   “Countess, it is not that you consider it or not, I’ll ask you the question again: Do you and your husband take any kind of precautions, use contraceptives?”

   "Are you serious? No, vampires don’t use condoms, it's not like they could use them anyway, you should know." That was starting to irritate her, that possibility was not pleasing her at all and she was starting to feel terrified. “And as for me, I don’t take any kind of pills or hormones."

   "Please, keep it only as a possibility, it can also be anemia or something minor, do not get upset." He did not know how to handle things, he would only have to wait for the analysis to be ready so he could not be blamed for anything, that blonde woman also looked dangerous.

   Gillman and Ericka were aware of what the statistics on fertility among vampires said, which was much lower than that of humans and also the chances that she could get pregnant drastically decreased because of other factors: like her age. She knew that to at age 35, pregnancies could not only be riskier, they were less frequent and some did not come to an end. She had never cared about this topic, she had not really thought about motherhood and although her great-grandfather had once touched the subject by telling her that it was necessary to marry in order to procreate -- that it was an obligation and her duty to the Legacy, for her it had only been foolish words that had been ignored but that was before meeting Drac. Then, like any couple, they had spoken about it and he had been open to the possibility and had even told her some stories of when his wife was pregnant with Mavis. He sounded very happy with those memories and she could not deny that all this caused a little jealousy, doubts and many insecurities. What if he could never love her in that way? or worse, love their child as he loved her daughter? it hurt to think of those possibilities. He was a model father, she could see that, but she did not think it would be the same in her case, although it was true that Drac had previously joked that he was too old to have children and she was not exactly a young girl.

   A few months after having married, just returning from her honeymoon, she had missed a menstrual period, she had felt those nausea, everything pointed to that she could be pregnant. She did not want to say anything to the vampire to avoid any disappointment, she had decided to take a trip to a nearby city. She had entered a pharmacy and had bought with all the embarrassment in the world a pregnancy test. She had gone to the bathroom of a restaurant and having waited for the necessary minutes and with her hands trembling, she saw that result: negative. She decided to go buy two more, it could have been a mistake. She had to be sure that she had not gone there in vain. She tried the second one, she was afraid and when she looked at it she only saw a vertical line, a resounding no again, what if the third one the difference, what if two vertical lines appeared but sadly it was not like that ...

   Leaving the bathroom, with her eyes on the ground, on her cheek ran a single tear. Her face reflected sadness, she had murmured hundreds of times on the way there that should not be any hopes up, that it could be a false alarm and that they were not looking for it anyway.

   That memory came to Ericka as a whirlwind, suddenly reality hit her. She was sitting there, still in pain listening to the doctor's words, the last thing she understood was that he was recommending vitamins and that their sleep schedules to be more regular.

   "Thanks doctor, can I ask you one last thing?"

   "Yes of course whatever you like," he said while signing a recipe with some kind of scribbling that could not be distinguished well. “When your results are in, I will contact you.”

   She tried to choose her words and rubbed her hands nervously “Don’t tell my husband, I would prefer to tell him myself. Also, we have to see what the results say."

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