#implied/referenced rape/non-con

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (14)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, slow burn—really slow burn, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out, hurt/comfort, implied/referenced gang rape/non-con, non-graphic rape/non-con, non-consensual drug use, sexual violence, physical violence, vomiting, food poisoning.

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 8k

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⚠️‼️WARNING!!! TRIGGERING SCENES AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS ABOVE!!! ⚠️‼️

*****

Jungkook woke up feeling wet kisses splaying on his face. He begrudgingly opened his eyes, neck stiff because of his unforgivable sleeping position across your bedroom door.

"Mornin' Kookie~," 

"Hmm?" Jungkook blinked. His brain had yet to catch up on what was happening, but his blurry eyes could already make out the tiny figure of his son.

He saw Soobin waving his little hand and smiling down at him.

"Soobin?" Jungkook blinked. Soobin beamed at him in response, prompting Jungkook's sleepiness to be washed away. He unconsciously wrapped his arms around Soobin's body to pull him closer.

"Kookie, hello!" 

Jungkook winced when his son embraced his neck and tried to climb over his shoulders. It's true that children had the energy of Olympians. Jungkook wasn't able to protest when Soobin decisively climbed his shoulder, using it as a foundation to reach for the doorknob.

Soobin didn't hesitate. With a twist, the door flew open.

Shit.

Jungkook was caught off guard. He was leaning on the closed door, so he and Soobin fell sideways when it opened. Thankfully, he immediately caught his son and protected his head from colliding on the tiled floor.

Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief. That was close. Hell would break loose if you saw even a small bruise on Soobin's skin.

"What's wrong with you two?" Your voice sent shivers down Jungkook's spine. Speak of the person, and they shall appear. His decelerating heartbeat spiked up again at the sound of your pissed-off voice.

Jungkook was forced to flick his gaze on you. He was surprised to see you on the ground. 

You appeared to just have been woken up, too. You scratched the back of your head and yawned.

"Did you sleep on the floor near the door?" Jungkook couldn't help but ask. He sat up and helped Soobin get on his feet, wanting to check if his son got injured. But before Jungkook could do so, Soobin was already jumping into your arms.

"Ma!" Soobin pulled at your neck, visibly making you cringe. It solidified Jungkook's conjecture that you also dozed off on the floor.

However, you vehemently denied it.

"Soobin, no hugging for now. Your Mama got a stiff neck from sleeping against the door."

"I did not sleep here!" You growled at Jungkook as you fought a yawn. This was in contrast to how softly you whispered to Soobin to lay low with the hugs.

Jungkook dramatically gasped, acting all scandalized. "It's not good to lie in front of your kid, you know~."

For some reason, Jungkook was in a good mood. You, sleeping on the floor and against the door, hinted that you weren’t as unaffected by what had happened a few hours before. You probably listened to Jungkook's speech with your ears against the door.

Perhaps you went as far as almost opening the door for Jungkook—this was dangerous wishful thinking, though. Jungkook had to force himself to shake the thought away. There was another way to see if you intended to allow him to stay.

Call him selfish, but Jungkook wanted to test that theory. He licked his lower lips, eyes ogling at you, who was unconsciously mumbling that your neck only hurt because you cracked it the wrong way.

"I know how to relieve stiffed necks." Jungkook started before trailing off. He couldn't stop himself from staring at your neck.

Jungkook forced himself to clear his throat.

"Do you want me to massage your neck?"

The thought of physical contact would make you recoil if you were disgusted by an ex-convict. Jungkook's hands were clammy. It was his idea to test the waters with you, but it didn't mean he wasn't nervous. He had only developed the habit of smiling, joking, and thinking about sexual stuff when things were making him anxious. It was his coping mechanism.

A few seconds had passed now. Jungkook was half expecting you to reject him, already content with the thought of feeling your neck pulse.

At least you were alive, Jungkook thought. You were alive and near him. This should beenough. You also hadn't explicitly told him to go, so he could—

"Alright."

Jungkook's train of thought paused at that. He didn't know if he ever whipped his head so fast it felt like it almost snapped.

He didn't care. Jungkook had to look at you and confirm if he heard you right:

He did.

"You can massage my neck later." You carried your son and stood up. You unconsciously purred when Soobin kissed your cheeks and requested omurice for breakfast.

You looked pointedly at Jungkook. "You heard your kid. He wants to eat. Chop, chop, Kook."

You didn't wait for a response and just went straight out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.

Jungkook breathed out, suddenly feeling hollow. But in a good way. The anxiousness filling his heart was emptied.

He smiled to himself. Omurice sounded good for breakfast.

***

The neck massage was scheduled another time even though your neck was stiff now. Blame it on your phone, which had been ringing nonstop.

"It's the team." You rolled your eyes, though one could see that you weren’t annoyed. It was more of a fond gesture.

It was lunchtime now. Your breakfast went well. You and Jungkook dropped Soobin off at the daycare. The kid's schedule was packed since it was the school's foundation day. Jungkook didn't want to leave Soobin alone, but the teacher advised that kids Soobin's age should learn how to adjust and be more independent.

You had no choice but to drag Jungkook away from the school premises. You had other things to do, anyway. Your beeping phone was one of your agenda.

"The team's calling to know if you've accepted our job offer."

Jungkook stopped licking his ice cream in a cone, head twisting to look at you to see any sign of mirth.

You were dead serious. You furrowed your brows at Jungkook. "What."

"Nothing," Jungkook bit his ice cream until his teeth ached. "I just thought you've retracted the offer."

"Why would I do that." You frowned and offered Jungkook a tissue. What a disgusting asshole. His hands were covered with melted ice cream.

Jungkook took the tissue to cover the sight of his trembling lips. He wanted to throw the ice cream as he couldn't bear the cold. However, he didn't have the heart to waste food. He was constantly reminded of what he had to endure as kids threw ice cream at him while wearing the clown costume.

Those days felt like a lifetime ago, yet Jungkook was still here. It didn't change the fact that he felt like shit.

"You read the paper I handed you," it wasn't a question. Jungkook knew you knew of his past now. There was no way you would stay still after knowing that the person who babysat your son used to be in prison.

Frankly, even until now, Jungkook was waiting for you to drop the news to him—that he would have to leave sooner or later. You showed mercy earlier, but who's to say you wouldn't change your mind?

"I didn't." You surprised Jungkook by this admission. You squared your shoulders and snatched the ice cream cone from your best friend. You threw it in the trash can. Jungkook was about to protest, but you shushed him.

"You look stupid trying to finish that ice cream. You should have thrown it away if you didn't want it." It was Soobin's dessert in the first place. The kid handed it to Jungkook earlier before you left. Soobin thought his father wouldn't miss him so much if he had ice cream with him. "And wipe your goddamn mouth and shut it, will you? Don't look too surprised that I didn't read the paper. I told you I was shocked and needed time, but you didn't exactly give me time to process shit with your cheesy line last night."

"I'm sorry." Jungkook's cheeks heat up. He dodged your gaze, but it didn't take long for him to look at you again. You were scoffing at him.

"Now you're actin' all shy? I'm telling you now, bastard. If what you said last night was shit, I swear I will fucking—"

"It's true." Jungkook cut you off. "I mean it."

It was only then that Jungkook noticed your frozen body. Your shoulders sagged in relief upon hearing Jungkook's confirmation.

"Good." You held your head high, "Because I'd rather hear the truth from you than that paper. Do you still want to have dinner with me?"

"Lunch." Jungkook looked at the wristwatch you had gifted him. You had time before Soobin got off school. "Let's have lunch. In our usual place."

Jungkook realized he didn't want to bare his heart out in a fancy restaurant where people acted all stiff and fancy. He wanted to be in a safe and familiar environment where he knew there would be no judgment on whatever he did. No one would eavesdrop as everyone was busy in their own world.

It's the ADA. Jungkook hadn't been here in years. Many things had changed, but sadly, the one thing Jungkook hated the most remained.

Natsume--the fortuneteller who sang his prediction, was still in business. Jungkook met Natsume's teasing gaze. He started playing his guitar, ready to piss off the brunet. Luckily, you had come prepared. You immediately pulled Jungkook inside the ADA restaurant.

"I warned you earlier that Natsume still sings. You said you don't mind." You gave Jungkook a warning look. "Don't fight him. We didn't go here for that. You have a responsibility to me."

Jungkook clicked his tongue and wriggled out of your iron grip. He sighed, "Fine."

You chose a table far from the window. You couldn't have Jungkook distracted because of Natsume. Thankfully, Jungkook didn't talk about the fortuneteller anymore. He looked deep in thought. Jungkook wasn't sure where to start. The paper he gave you last night was the summary of his criminal case. Jungkook envisioned you reading that paper and bombarding him with questions.

The thing was, you were feeling generous to him. You didn't immediately go straight to questioning, opting to order food first. You didn't have to ask Jungkook. You knew he liked crab spring rolls. They were perfect with a bottle of soju.

You almost ordered the alcohol but stopped when you remembered Jungkook didn't drink anymore.

"Let's not drink. Soobin is fussy when he smells alcohol." You thanked the server after he placed your order. What you said to Jungkook was an excuse and the truth. Your son would scrunch up his nose whenever he got a whiff of your favorite wine. Jungkook knew of your intention. He smiled nonetheless.

"You're a good mom," Jungkook said sincerely, and with a quick snap, he broke the chopsticks apart to start eating the complimentary edamame. It felt nostalgic to eat this, giving Jungkook the illusion that you two were high school students whose only worry was how to earn money. 

Your lives were way more complicated than that now. You could never go back. You had Soobin and other things to consider when making decisions.

You weren’t sure whether to nod or shake your head. You settled with a subtle cough.

"I try to be. It wasn't easy at first..." You trailed off and shook your head. "Anyway, there were lots of challenges. You're doing better than me. Soobin warmed up to you fast."

Soobin liked Jang Min and Lee Sung, though it took him some time to get used to meeting up with them. But with Jungkook, things were different. You wondered if it had something to do with their biological relationship.

Jungkook couldn't use that fully as an excuse. He thanked the server for bringing in their food before answering you. "I told you before, didn't I? I've experienced handling kids."

You briefly remembered that as you felt your neck turning crimson. Jungkook had a phase where he was obsessed with getting you pregnant. You never really got the chance to know where Jungkook's fetish started. It was his cue to tell you how things started.

With a warm meal before you two, Jungkook told you how he messed up his life.

Nine Years Ago, 2014:

The thought of dropping out of university had been on Jungkook's mind for a long time, though he never gave it much thought.

That was until Jimin asked Jungkook to accompany him in social work. Jungkook didn't get it at first. Jimin was his promising senior who talked money as Francis, his business-minded boyfriend, greatly influenced him.

Jimin recently graduated college, but he was still in touch with Jungkook. As his hubae, Jungkook looked up to his Jimin-hyung. The latter usually talked about improving life, and that was all Jungkook wanted.

He longed to give you a life where you wouldn't have to struggle. You could pursue whatever studies you wanted without having to think about money.

Money talked, so Jungkook didn't understand why Jimin wasted his time entertaining illegal immigrants. It was on the outskirts of Incheon. These foreigners lived underground with their families. Jimin and some other kindhearted people visited them to feed them and offer them some minor work to get them through one day's meal.

Jungkook frowned at this. Jimin was just starting a small business. He often asked for help from the immigrants to run his business. Jungkook thought Jimin was better off with other people who were far more competent than these illegal settlers.

Jungkook didn't even want to be here. Jimin urged him, saying that if Jungkook really wanted to be business partners with him, he had to first see the kind of work Jimin was doing.

Jungkook didn't think interacting with these immigrants would convince him, but his perspective changed when a kid clung to his leg.

The kid was very small and obviously malnourished. He didn't seem to understand the danger his body was in. A carefree smile decorated his lips.

"Hyung, thank you." The kid's teeth were black and yellow. In normal circumstances, Jungkook would subtly kick the child or say something to make him go away.

But something in this child's smile softened Jungkook's heart for some reason.

"You and the other hyung there help my mom earn money!" The kid pointed at Jimin, who was busy talking to a woman. Jungkook figured that the woman was probably this kid's mother.

"We haven't eaten in days. I thought we'd have to get beaten up first."

"What?" Jungkook was taken aback. He was sometimes mean, but he didn't go around hurting people. What did this kid mean when he mentioned getting beaten up...?

The kid showed his bruised arms; he didn't have to explain for Jungkook to understand what was happening:

The kids and the people living underground were exploited. 

Jungkook clenched his jaw. The memory of younger you working in a bar lit up in his head, making him clench his hands into fists.

The indignation that abruptly clogged his veins was too much to bear, acting like a big block stopping his heart from beating.

His vision doubled. It was too much. These kids had gone through so much at a young age.

Just like you.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook dropped to his knees to look at the kid in the eyes. It was not fair. This kid was still smiling despite life being cruel to him. He didn't understand why the innocent had to suffer when far worse people were walking this planet.

"Why?" The kid caressed Jungkook's hand on his cheek. "You saved us! We want to thank you!"

After the kid said this, the other children went up to hug Jungkook. They kept calling him hyung to offer their thank you. Jungkook couldn't accept their gratitude, knowing that this was Jimin's work.

Their pleasant smile should be directed to Jimin and not him. However, when Jungkook looked at his friend, Jimin stood there, offering him a small smile and encouraging him to appreciate this moment.

Jungkook's heart throbbed painfully in his chest, and when he cast his gaze back at the kids, the pain he felt subsided, and it was quickly replaced with pride.

Jungkook smiled with only one thought in mind: I will make these kids proud.

Present, 2023:

You always knew Jungkook was closed off. He was not the type of person who would share personal experiences like this. When Jungkook told you before that he would drop out of college, you thought he was making a mistake—that he was blinded by money and pride. You never knew Jungkook's catalyst to venturing with Jimin was those kids.

The children made Jungkook want to do better, but it was also them who became his downfall.

Six Years Ago, 2017:

Things had already escalated, so Jungkook was forced to retreat to a corner, his back pressed on a cold wall with no way of stepping back.

He fucked up.

He fucked up so badly with business the same way he fucked up with you when he slept with your Jisoo-unnie.

There was no room for regret after that night. Not when he didn't have time to process things. Jungkook had to rush Jisoo to the hospital when they woke up naked on the couch.

Jisoo couldn't breathe. She was vomiting blood. The doctors said it was anxiety and her sickness acting up. Jisoo was advised not to do strenuous activity. Their tacit agreement to relieve their agony was more harmful than helpful.

Jisoo was in a daze. Looking at her made Jungkook's stomach cramp. The silence was suffocating him, too. Jungkook knew how to butter her up regarding business, but outside you, their pain, and Bighit, Jungkook and Jisoo didn't have much in common.

They were strangers who loved the same person and shared similar problems. What happened last night changed it for the worse.

Jungkook couldn't handle it anymore. He spoke.

"I'm gonna tell her."

The braid of promise from last night was combed just like that. Jisoo slowly turned her head to Jungkook, her eyes dead, and her lips were parted slightly.

Jisoo didn't say anything. She simply cupped her stomach before gently lying in bed. She turned her back to Jungkook, sick of his face already. She got what she wanted.

Jungkook sighed. He stayed in Jisoo-unnie's room for hours until he got the signal from the nurse that Jisoo could go home.

Jisoo didn't want to go home. There was no going back now. Not for Jungkook, though. He had problems he had to face, so he went home.

His home no longer felt safe after what he and Jisoo did. Jungkook couldn't bring himself to sleep, the panic and grief catching up to him every time he closed his eyes.

He avoided you like the plague, thinking that things were better off when he was alone. After all, you wouldn't understand what he was going through.

You hadn't met those immigrant kids. You didn't know what Jungkook and Jimin were fighting for. Most importantly, you didn't know what it felt like to be on top and to suddenly fall from grace.

Jungkook could almost taste it: the venom in your voice when he told you his business with Jimin had failed. He could imagine the ‘I told you so’ look painting your eyes. He could also imagine you telling him he should have just stuck to university.

Jungkook didn't really want to see you. He didn't want to see and hear about yourdisappointment in him.

But Jungkook ended up hearing it—only that with a different reason. Jungkook wasn't expecting you to show up at Bighit’s board meeting. He underestimated your capability to get what you wanted. It never occurred to him that you would buy Ango's share just so you could legally attend the meeting.

It was ridiculous. At that moment, Jungkook thought you had come to rub salt in his wound. Why else would you show up there? There was no reason for you to buy a losing share. Jungkook knew you. You would never bet your money on something risky. You didn't even want to invest in the Bighit in the first place. You only did so to appease Jungkook after your previous fight from before.

When you showed up at the meeting, Jungkook made himself think that you had bad intentions, so he hurt you first. He told you he slept with your Jisoo-unnie just because he didn't want to hear you talk shit about Bighit’s downfall.

He thought his belief was warranted because when things truly started going down, you were nowhere to be found.

It was all good at first. Jungkook thought it was better this way. Because more than anything, and despite Jungkook being fucked in the head for betraying you, Jungkook wanted you safe and worry-free. This was why he and Jisoo sought solace in each other's body. They didn't want to involve you in a mess.

In their own fucked up way, Jungkook and Jisoo loved you.

Jungkook never heard from you again after confessing his betrayal. He tried to reach you, but the case of Bighit was beyond saving. Jungkook, along with Jimin, was facing the consequences:

"When will Mushitaro arrive, Jimin-hyung?" Jungkook's skin felt itchy. The unforgiving cold wall rubbed his body, only proving to him that their current predicament was truly pitiful. He and Jimin were both grown men forced to be cramped into a small jail cell. It smelt rotten here.

Jimin couldn't do anything to appease his friend, though. He scratched his skin and was also getting agitated by the overall atmosphere of the place. "I'm not sure, Jungkook-ssi."

Three hours had passed since the police officers arrested Jimin and Jungkook. They were two different people, but Jimin said they would be having a joint lawyer. Mushitaro, their chosen representative, had yet to arrive after Jimin contacted him earlier. The law enforcers refused to let them call again.

Jungkook was antsy and feeling aggrieved. Though Mushitaro was representing him too, he still had the right to call someone—you. It was unfortunate that the officers were treating him like shit. Jungkook couldn't complain. This wasn't like the last time the police invited them over. They had an arrest warrant now, leaving him and Jimin no choice but to have their hands cuffed. It had been a few days since their last board meeting. Their other board members flew out of the country, but it didn't matter. Almost all of Bighit’s operations were handled by Jungkook and Jimin. They couldn't escape liability even if they wanted to.

This was made clear a few hours later when Mushitaro finally arrived. The lawyer knew what he was doing. Jungkook and Jimin were transferred into a much bigger room, and they were given a cup of cold water to cool down.

Jungkook normally kept his cool. He was a manipulator at best. Surely, he had thought of a way to get out of this mess. Unfortunately, the laws were difficult to circumvent as Bighit’s operation extended to illegal immigrants.

"Piercing the what?" You interrupted Jungkook's storytelling when you didn't understand the legal terms. Jungkook was at the part where he was repeating what Mushitaro had told him years ago.

Jungkook took a bite of his crab spring rolls as he responded to you, "Piercing the corporate veil."

You struggled to listen to him. Jungkook explained that companies usually had limited liability, meaning that their obligations couldn't be passed down to their board directors and stockholders. In short, if the assets of the company reached zero in value but still had some liabilities, the creditors couldn't run after stockholders like him and Jisoo.

However, with the piercing of the corporate veil, the general rule would not apply. Jungkook and Jimin were going to prison.

"The probability of Jimin-hyung and I being convicted at that time was high. That's how piercing the corporate veil works. We are both board members who oversee the operations of Bighit. We can't argue that we don't know what's happening in our company when our signatures are mostly needed in our transactions."

Jimin's boyfriend, Francis Fitzgerald, was also a board member of Bighit. Francis was a certified public accountant, so naturally, he dealt with the company's financial statements. Unbeknownst to Jungkook and the others, Francis used the company's money for his own gain and concealed the fact that the Bighit was incurring debt.

"But why are you affected by it? Isn't it solely that son of a bitch Francis' fault?" You questioned. Jungkook's chest heaved as he repeated to you what Mushitaro had said. This whole thing was still painful to talk about, but:

Generally, Jungkook and Jimin were not liable since corporations like Bighit, weren't similar to partnerships where the board members had a fiduciary relationship. Jungkook might not be the one who orchestrated the fraud, but he concealed it after finding out the truth.

You scoffed at this. But in Jungkook's defense, he and Jimin only concealed the fraud because they were trying to protect their employees.

Bighit was a business process outsourcing organization. The people they hired to take calls and be in the customer service department were the same illegal immigrants underground. Jungkook and Jimin wanted to give these people a chance at living, so they helped fake their documents and hire them.

They were good at their jobs. Jungkook never hesitated to give them a profit share and higher benefits, especially for their retirement fund. Fitzgerald embezzled the money that was supposed to be for the employees. Even their legal reserves that weren't allowed to be used or to be distributed were gone.

Jimin signed documents and trusted the auditors Fitzgerald hired. Meanwhile, Jungkook blindly followed where Jimin was going. He was getting billions of money in the beginning, so he didn't mind. What more could he ask for, knowing that their employees and their families were basically worshipping Jungkook?

When things started going downhill, Jungkook was caught off guard. He was imprisoned with Jimin, and all his assets had been frozen. Mushitaro did his best to defend them, but this was a case that enraged the public. He also couldn't milk enough money from his clients so in the end, he did the bare minimum just to have the case closed.

It was difficult. Mushitaro was being harassed by Bighit’s employees too. Most of them were deported, while the other went into hiding. They threatened the lawyer to pass their messages to his clients, saying that they wished Jungkook and Jimin to both rot in hell and that they made their lives worse. They were doing okay underground, but now they couldn't even spend time with their deported family members, and they were hiding much stricter under the police's noses.

The employees said they wanted their backpay and promised retirement funds. Once, Jungkook was visited by someone in prison. The police officer said his visitor went by your name, so Jungkook cleaned himself up for the first time in days and immediately went to see you.

But you were nowhere to be seen. Jungkook came face to face with a Bighit employee instead. No one knew how the immigrant managed to bring a knife with him, but he did. He was raging when he slashed Jungkook's eyes with a knife.

The officers were quick to seize the immigrant while some of the guards went to attend to Jungkook. He was obviously shocked. He covered his eye, feeling the blood trickling down his hand. He heard loudly how the immigrant cursed and told him to die.

That was the beginning of Jungkook covering his eye with a bandage and the hell he'd face in prison.

"Wait." You grabbed your best friend's hand to get him to stop talking. It was all in the past now, yet you couldn't seem to take it. You also had too many questions.

"Y-You went to jail after I flew to France? Where..." You stuttered a breath and trailed off, feeling your heart clench tightly in your chest. Your ramen had gone cold now. You didn't have the stomach to eat it. All you could think about while looking at your spicy red broth was the blood cascading down Jungkook's eye from before.

Regret poked at the pit of your stomach. You wanted to vomit, but you couldn't. This wasn't about you. It was about Jungkook. You bit your lip and forced yourself to ask, "Where was Jisoo-unnie...? She....she didn't help you?"

Didn't she tell you I was gone? Despite leaving and not wanting to deal with bullshit, you made sure to leave traces so that Jungkook and Jisoo would know where you went off to. Sue you for being a hypocrite, but you were desperate then. You wanted your best friend and sister to see you thriving in spite of their absences in your life. You were pretty sure Jisoo managed to find your address in France because of the clues you left.

You hated your sister, but at the same time, you craved her validation and longed to see the pain in her eyes as you hurt her back.

Why didn't Jisoo tell the convicted Jungkook about your whereabouts?

"Jisoo-noona and I never talked to each other again after...." Jungkook didn't complete his statement, yet you understood it. After we betrayed you. Their last proper conversation was when Jungkook told you that he slept with Jisoo.

They didn't exactly talk at the hospital when Jungkook brought Jisoo there. However, Jisoo showed up at Jungkook's door a few days after you left. She brought a bottle of wine and soju.

Jungkook resolutely refused the offer, almost slamming the door in the older woman's face.

"I can't, Jisoo-noona," he held the doorknob tightly. "I'm not going to drink anymore." Not after what happened. Not after we fucked up. Not in this lifetime.

Jisoo understood what he meant, though she still deflated. Her pain was too much. Her body felt like deteriorating. Her chest was hollow. She begged, "We're not going to do something stupid, Jungkook. I'm just lonely. My little girl isn't answering any of my phone calls."

She had the audacity to get sad after what she had done, but Jisoo was just human, after all. She couldn't take the separation from her sister. She missed you despite everything. Talking to Jungkook gave Jisoo the illusion that you were still within reach.

Jungkook couldn't deny it, either. He missed his best friend, too, but he knew he messed up. He had a lot on his plate right now and couldn't be bothered to carry more burden and guilt by hanging out with Jisoo.

Besides, Jungkook knew his free days were numbered. He couldn't keep involving your sister in this mess, so days after his arrest and that immigrant slashing his eye, Jungkook wrote to Jisoo. He told her not to visit or associate with him as many of Bighit’s employees were indignant with him and would lash out at anyone close to him. Jungkook also told her to extend the same explanation to you.

Jungkook wrote to you every day, yet he didn't get any response. He assumed you really didn't want anything to do with him anymore. It was both a relief and a shame.

Despite everything, Jungkook continued writing to you. It wasn't to get you to visit him or anything. His days in prison became slightly bearable every time he let out his emotions through his letters.

The messages were mostly nonsensical—at least, this was how it started. Jungkook would reminisce about your moments together, tell you about his life in prison--how he was coping with his Jimin-hyung there, and how much he missed you.

Jungkook thought it wasn't that bad until he started receiving letters from people underground. The immigrants were still feeling resentful toward him and Jimin. They detailed how worst their lives had become after being deported. Those who were hiding in South Korea managed to hide their identity, but the blame and pressure were palpable in their letters.

Even the kid who clung to Jungkook’s legs before sent him an alarming message:

My mother hanged herself. I alone now. Blame you giving false hope. You break me. The letter was written childishly. The kid forced himself to write in Korean despite knowing too little about the language. Jungkook took the letter to heart. He couldn’t sleep nor eat. And it wasn’t like there was something to fill his stomach with.

New prisoners were treated like garbage. Jungkook spent his days two cells away from Jimin. He got away from the immigrants wanting to hurt him, but the people in prison were much worse.

“You stink,” Jungkook’s cellmate spat on his face. He hadn’t eaten in two days, his mouth smelling like rotten fish and acid. Jungkook managed to get a small cup of miso soup by massaging the kitchen head’s feet for two hours. Unfortunately, Jimin didn’t know how to navigate a life in prison. He was too righteous, igniting the anger of most prisoners. He wasn’t given any ration, so Jungkook set aside his hunger and gave Jimin-hyung the soup.

“Pardon me, boss.” Jungkook didn’t wipe the spit on his cheek and just bowed his head obediently. “I’ll stay in the corner, but you can call me any time you need something. I will do anything for you.”

It was the lowest of the low, but Jungkook had to swallow his pride. This person he called boss had a lot of food stash. He was quite popular in this place. Many prisoners tried to curry favor with him. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to please him. People like him got an ego boost whenever they thought they were being worshipped. True enough, he clicked his tongue and threw a KitKat bar to Jungkook.

“Eat that for now. Come sit with me at the table during lunchtime. Ya gotta eat, your breath will kill me.”

“Thank you, boss.” Jungkook ate half of the chocolate and saved the other half for Jimin. The boss shook his head disapprovingly. He thought Jungkook was stupid. He used the little money he had to buy papers so he could write a letter for someone outside the prison, and yet. The boss shook his head one more time, and yet he never received a response.

“I didn’t receive any of your letters.” You interrupted the storytelling again. “Where did you send them? How…” How stupid are you to think I could ever bear to see you suffer? Do you really think it would take me more than two letters to respond to you? But you didn’t say any of this. It would break Jungkook’s heart more. You changed your question, “What did you write to me?”

Jungkook didn’t have any appetite anymore, either. But reminiscing his life in prison made him want to stuff all the food before him in his mouth.

“I was told you got my letters.”

Life in prison started to get better when Jungkook started buttering up Fukuchi—the boss, though he had to face some initiation at first.

Jungkook couldn’t refute anything. He was tired of deep diving in the sea of the prison’s garbage truck just to get him and Jimin something to eat. Jimin joined his food-searching quest, but he wasn’t much of a help.

“You’re making this harder for me, Jiminnie-hyung ~ Can you just sit there and watch out for the prison guard, hmm~?” Jungkook maintained his sweet tone in spite of his exhaustion. He had to remind himself that Jimin-hyung was hurt; hence, he couldn’t move fast. His cellmates had beaten him up again. They said they didn’t like the way Jimin looked when they admitted to using his toothbrush to clean the floor. His cellmate's exact words were, “You should be thankful we’re cleaning our space with your damn toothbrush. Aren’t you acting all pure and shit? Your saliva is our holy water. Save us, Saint Jiminnie.”

The precious nickname Jungkook made up for Jimin was now tainted. They laughed and kicked Jimin when the latter told the officer what his cellmates did to his toothbrush.

Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to tell Jimin to just let it go. But at the same time, he felt like Jimin-hyung should have known better than to fight those idiotic cellmates of his. He was both frustrated and empathetic toward his friend. All he could do for Jimin was search for some food on his behalf.

Thankfully, Jimin listened and watched out for guards as Jungkook swam in the sea of garbage. He found a half-eaten pudding and handed it to Jimin.

“It’s expired,” Jimin said. They weren’t in the position to be picky, so Jungkook only beamed at him.

“I haven’t met anyone who died because of expired food. Come on, Jiminnie-hyung.~ That would do.” Jimin was on the verge of passing out. His face was pale, and his lips were chapped. He needed to eat something. With a few more coaxing from Jungkook, Jimin finally swallowed the expired pudding.

He felt a little better for a while, but Jungkook had terrible luck—his words were jinxed a few hours later. Someone from Jimin’s cell banged the gate, calling the officer’s attention to report Jimin’s state.

“Heyo! Anybody there? The blond lad right here is dyin'. We don’t want his rotten corpse in here. Help!”

Jungkook jolted awake at that. He desperately stuck his head on his cell gate, hoping to see Jimin-hyung. His action was for nought, so he helped bang the gate to get the officers’ attention, too. Fortunately, the guards appeared and were able to bring Jimin to the hospital. Jungkook would never forget the image of his friend curled into a ball while clenching his stomach. He was vomiting as he got food poisoning from eating the expired pudding.

It was a blessing in disguise, though. Jimin was able to eat slightly better food at the hospital. Jungkook swore he would never let his friend suffer again. His choice led to some drastic consequences, but he couldn’t care less:

He sought Fukuchi’s protection for his and Jimin’s sake. The initiation was hell. To Jungkook’s horror, even the correctional officers licked Fukuchi’s bottom. Everyone turned into a slave when money and power were involved. They did not bat an eyelash when Jungkook ran around the prison hallway. A group of prisoners chased after him while the others stayed locked up in their cells, watching menacingly through the crack of the gated cell how moronically Jungkook ran.

Jungkook was in the shower room. He slipped and fell because of the wet tiles marred by mold. The prisoners caught up to him. They dragged Jungkook’s already fragile body to the ground.

"Don't make trouble." Someone pressed Jungkook’s face to the floor until he couldn't breathe properly, and then he felt that person grabbing his hand, his fingertips caressing Jungkook's wrist. "It'll hurt more if you resist."

The brunet felt the syringe sinking deep into his skin. It hurt at first— but soon, it only tickled. His heart started beating so loudly that he thought it would burst inside his ribcage. His vision was doubling, too, but the euphoria pumping through his veins made him lose his inhibitions. Every emotion was amplified. Jungkook giggled when someone took off his pants, spreading his legs wide until he felt a police baton sinking deep into his hole.

Jungkook screeched. There was blood everywhere, yet the prisoners did not stop. He lost count of how many times the syringe corrupted his bloodstream. Every hole of his body (his ears, nose, mouth, and even eyes) was coated with the sticky liquid coming from those men.

His body was painted with nasty teeth marks. The shades of blue, purple, and green were such a sore in the eyes that Jungkook had to cover his body with bandages even after months of the attack. It fucked him so badly, but he could only swallow his grievances for his and Jimin’s sake.

At least now, they were not treated like trash. They had full meals now, and Fukuchi grew more satisfied with Jungkook’s mind. One day, Fukuchi introduced him to someone outside the prison.

“Lee Sung.” The outsider offered his hand for a shake. Jungkook was forced to accept the greeting. Lee Sung was a sadist at heart, though. A blade was hidden in his palm. It slashed Jungkook’s skin when they shook hands.

“You look alive. Aren’t you using the dead apple?” Lee Sung let go of the brunet’s hand, acting as if he hadn’t just caused Jungkook’s hand to trickle down with blood.

Jungkook was unfazed. He gently wiped his bloodied hand in his pants. He lied through his teeth, “Well, someone has to be sober for this, don’t you think, Lee Sung-san~? We can’t all be Snow White.”

‘Dead Apple’ was the drug injected into Jungkook on the day of his initiation. The effect of the drug was unapparelled, bringing the user into a different universe because of the ‘high’ feeling. It was called Dead Apple because the users would often lose consciousness or act like hypnotized zombies who would do your bidding as long as you hit something inside of them. For example, Jungkook saw Jimin through rose-colored glasses, so one of the prisoners who injected him with Dead Apple pretended to be Jimin and Jungkook, under the effect of the drug, fell into this pretense and didn’t question whatever those men did to him. It was only after some hours after the assault did he come back to his senses. 

Coming to his senses didn’t necessarily mean he would forget the assault. He remembered it all too well, and nothing—not even the unadulterated euphoria would convince Jungkook to try it again. He associated that drug with his loss of freedom and more hatred for his already wretched body. One could call him a hypocrite because despite knowing the deadly effect of Dead Apple, it did not stop him from letting other people have access to it.

Life, especially in prison, was not like a fairytale. The initiation he had to be part of Decay of Angels—Fukuchi’s group, wasn’t enough to prove he was worthy. Jungkook had to strategize to keep Fukuchi’s business prospering. He was in charge of thinking of ways to supply the other inmates with drugs while making sure the higher-ups would not suspect a thing. Some officers were part of this scheme, but not all of them could turn a blind eye. Truthfully, Jungkook had been devising plans to get the officers already in this plan to keep supporting them.

Fukuchi soon realized how essential Jungkook was to this whole ordeal, so from being a chess piece, Jungkook was promoted to king. He had the privilege now to meet members of Decay of Angels who were not in prison.

Lee Sung was present at this meeting. He was tasked to get a feel of the king in prison. One look and Lee Sung already knew Jungkook was dangerous. Lee Sung had to find a way to break him.

“And how does staying sober benefit the Decay of Angel, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook tilted his head as he raised his hand to show his five fingers, “Five percent.”

Lee Sung was quick to snort at the number. Fukuchi came to the rescue, “Lee Sung, I know it sounds insignificant, but do note that Jungkook-ssi right here has been in this game for only a few days.” He also explained that the officer who had been eyeing the Decay of Angels had been transferred to another jurisdiction, all thanks to Jungkook’s effort.

Now, the drug dealing in Incheon was much more free. 

Lee Sung finally looked pleased because of this. He jutted his chin out, “Very well, then, Jungkook-ah.~ Just tell me what prize you want, I can give it to you.~”

Jungkook jumped into the offer at once. He wrote a name on a piece of paper and handed it to Lee Sung. The latter laughed, thinking that Jungkook wanted someone killed. That could easily be arranged, but the brunet was enigmatic. Lee Sung never would have thought that someone could be this stupidly sweet.

“Consider it done,” Lee Sung stood up and saluted. Sometime later, Jungkook received a letter from Gogol. It contained printed photos of a kid smiling while holding hands with his adopted parents.

Choi Yeonjun. Did you like his new name, Jungkook-ah? The bottom of the letter said.

Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief. The kid who clung to his leg was okay now. Jungkook couldn’t stop with just this, though. Every time he did something for the benefit of the Decay of Angels, he would ask Lee Sung to grant him the favor of helping the previous employees of Bighit. Unfortunately, his efforts were not enough. He slowly incurred a lot of debt to Lee Sung. The latter said it wasn’t his money. It was his boss who lent Jungkook the money.

The death threats toward him and Jimin lessened, too. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Jimin. He confronted Jungkook about it, knowing well that his friend was behind this. Jungkook had always been one step ahead of everything. Sadly, he was not one to make rational choices.

It was easy for Jimin to figure it all out. Jungkook would sometimes joke that Jimin could see the future, therefore giving him the ability of flawless. “Your conjecture has always been flawless, Jiminnie-hyung~!” Jungkook used to tell him.

It wasn’t any different now. Jungkook was being treated like a God in prison these days. He had the privilege to sit beside Fukuchi, and Jimin was not blind not to see the rampant spread of Dead Apple. In fact, one of his cellmates offered him to try the drug. Jimin firmly refused. He easily connected the dots, and when his conjecture had truly become ‘flawless,’ he then confronted Jungkook.

“This is dangerous, Jungkook. You have to stop.” Jimin was not one to resort to violence, but he couldn’t help but grab the younger man’s shirt and slam him against the wall. “You are dealing with illegal drugs, for Pete’s sake. Aren’t you afraid? You only have a few months in your sentence. Don’t make a decision that would harm you.”

I’m doing this for you. Jungkook wanted to shake Jimin. I’m doing this for the people who used to believe in us. I can’t abandon them. You said they’re important to you. I just want to make you happy, Jimin-hyung.

However, vulnerability and truth didn’t sit well with Jungkook. He wriggled out of Jimin’s grasp. “Just trust me, Jiminnie-hyung.”

Jungkook was in too deep. He needed to pay his debts to Lee Sung’s boss, save some money for himself, and start all over again. Their sentence was only reduced because the Decay of Angels paid some of his dues. They were billions of yen as their case impacted the Korean economy.

Jungkook wanted to reclaim his life and maybe…maybe see you again.

You still hadn’t responded to any of Jungkook’s letters, but he didn’t plan on giving up. He tripled the letter he sent, hoping that you would find it annoying and finally reply to him. He would take anything from you, even if it was just pure hatred.

Everything would be okay in no time. He would be out in prison with Jimin soon, so he smiled at his friend, thinking that Jimin understood him.

Except that he didn’t. 

Jungkook had no one else to blame—

Only himself.

He should have known Jimin wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. He wouldn’t blindly trust Jungkook when the well-being of other people was involved. It didn’t matter if they were prisoners. Jimin wouldn’t want these people to harm themselves more.

Jimin was righteous. He couldn’t just watch Jungkook destroy himself and the others, so he did what he thought was right: he told a police officer about the drug scheme in prison.

What a joke.

Did he really think he could make a difference? The police officer nodded along with Jimin, even escorting him to where he could report such a crime.

Jimin sighed in relief. He thought he could sleep well that night, but he couldn’t.

Jimin wasn’t escorted to report the crime. He was stuck in the giant walk-in freezer in the prison’s kitchen.

At five twenty-four in the morning, Park Jimin was found dead. 

********

A/N: Hello. It's been almost a month since I last updated. I hope you still remember this fic ~~

I know this chapter is upsetting. :(( I'm sorry, there might...? be more to come.

Also, a little update: life is being a total bitch to me. I have a hard time adjusting at work, and would sometimes use the little free time I have to just cry. It was a public holiday in my country last Friday and this coming Monday, but being in accounting means having no break. I still need to work :// My health is being compromised lately as I am working the night shift. It's super stressful because almost everyone around me keeps saying that I am losing too much weight. I KNOW it already :((( anyway, I'm rambling. Please tell me your thoughts about this chapter.

If you feel like dropping this fic, please do so! But please be kind in the comment or don't tell me at all.

Thank you ~~ See you next time! (Hopefully soon, but damn it's quarter close next month, so I will probably be busy waahhh)

Got more suggestions about the tag/warnings? Feel free to tell me. The goal here is to be more mindful.

[wangxianficrecs]

I'd Be Home With You by thunderwear

I’d Be Home With You

by thunderwear

T, 5k, Madam Lan/Cangse Sanren

Summary: “And if I steal her away?” “Then we figure it out together.” What if Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze took Madame Lan and her children from Cloud Recesses to live happily ever after? Kay's comments: Sometimes I just think about Mama Lan and I get so sad. She deserved better, OK? And today, in my time of need, this fic came to me and offered my a lovely canon divergence where Mama Lan was Cangse Sanren's first love, so of course she's going to Gusu to break her out of her jail and of course Wei Changze is there too, absolutely supportive. Cangse Sanren has two hands!! One for Mama Lan and one for Wei Changze. And I love that for all of them. Excerpt: “Do you want to meet my son?” She asked, giving one last squeeze to Luo Sihua’s waist. They pulled back to look down at A-Ying who hid a little bit farther behind her robes at the sudden attention. There was one last hitch to Luo Sihua’s chest before she took a deep breath and then leaned down to introduce herself to A-Ying. “You can call me Madame Lan.” The fury that ripped her was unexpected but not undeserved. He’d taken everything else from her, and now she didn’t even have her name? “No.” Wei Ying jolted in surprise beside her when she spoke and hid his face in her robes again, but she didn’t have it in her to care. She was too angry. “No, A-Ying, you’ll call her Luo Sihua.” Luo Sihua looked up and met her gaze with a soft, sad expression on her face, and neither of them looked away as Cangse Sanren bit out, “My son will not call you by his name.”

pov cangse sanren, canon divergence, cangse sanren and wei changze live, madam lan live, madam lan deserves better, cangse sanren/madam lan, cangse sanren/wei changze, family feels, polyamory, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, gusu lan sect rules, lan family feels, wei wuxian isn't adopted by the jiangs, families of choice, fix-it

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[samanddean76]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: John Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Wesson, John Wesson, Zachariah (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - It's a Terrible Life (Supernatural), Angry Sam Winchester, John Winchester Tries, Sam Winchester Has a Plan, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but it's not real, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Still Not Real, Revenge, Or Justice, Mystery to be solved, Prompt Fill Summary:

Sam Wesson is trapped in a dead-end job, all the while supporting his father. Or is he? The only thing he knows for sure is that he's in love with his father, and the dreams are getting worse. But Sam has a plan, that hopefully will earn him the one thing he wants more than anything in this world. His father's admiration.

[tarlos-spain]

Don't stop dreaming just because you had a nightmare

Acknowledgments: Thanks so much to my betas @lire-casander @morganaspendragonss @chaotictarlos that made me this fantastic banner.

Chapter 02

TK woke up in a hospital room, in a silence broken only by the machines controlling his body. Carlos was sitting next to him, his healthy hand in his, kissing and caressing his. Next to him was Andrea, rosary in hand, praying softly, while Owen had sat on the other side of the bed and was staring out the window, stroking hs arm.

TK rolled over in bed but protested as he felt the intense pain in too many parts of his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, looking for a position that would be more comfortable and not make him want to cry and finally his brain decided to wake up and allowed him to open his eyes.

No one said anything at first, they had been told to give him time. The shock was severe enough that he was groggy at first.

So they waited.

"Carlos..."

"Ty, my boy..." Carlos walked over to the bed and smiled.

"What... those people... the ones who... me..." TK tried to stir again and that brought back the pain in his abdomen and made his insides burn with the senesation that incandescent irons were being thrust into him. "Hmmm Carlos... dad... It hurts so much."

"I know, son, that's why you need to stay calm and move as little as possible." Owen told him. "I'm going to let the doctors know you're awake in case they want to..."

"No please...Dad, don't try...please. I want to sleep."

"Ty, babe, we need you to stay awake a little longer. The doctors want to run a couple of tests on you and then you can sleep again, I promise." Carlos told him, sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his boyfriend's cheek. "Besides, your eyes are too pretty and I missed them."

TK loved it when Carlos got cheesy and said those tacky things. He smiled and and made an effort not to laugh, because he knew the pain would come later. But Carlos got his point across and just for that alone he stared at him.

"That's..."

"Carlos... it hurts..."

"I know, my love, that's why we asked also doctors to put you on an adequate dose of painkillers enough to make you feel good but not pose any problem."

TK trusted his life to Carlos with his eyes closed, so as much as the thought of being on any kind of drugs or substances, no matter how much they would take away his pain, scared him, he knew Carlos would do anything to help him

"Is there anything you need mijo." Andrea asked him and TK shook his head. He just wanted to sleep and forget and since the latter wasn't possible, sleep would be enough.

But Owen called his doctor and three people came into the room. Too many people, he didn't like it, it made him suddenly uncomfortable when there were so many people around him, especially when they were strangers.

Keep reading on AO3

[lifblogs]

The Devil in You

Whumptober 2022 @whumptober-archive NO. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack

Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Mature Pairing: Implied Non-Con Samifer Word Count: 1344 Summary: During Sam's mental health stay after the events in the beginning of Three Birds, One Stone, another patient triggers a panic attack in him. READ ON AO3

Sam had dumped his lunch into the trash (he’d waited till lunch was over and a nurse or occupational therapist wasn’t around so they would think he was eating), and was just bringing the empty tray back to the nurse’s station when one of the older men also in this unit with him grabbed his arm. Sam turned, expecting an attack, pulling himself out of his surprisingly strong grip, and held the dark red tray in front of him like it might be a shield.

Before he could say anything, the man, now wide-eyed, was pointing a finger at him.

Sure, maybe Sam could ignore him, go on with his day, try once more to find a way out of here, but for some reason, the way his dark eyes held him kept him captivated.

“You’ve got the Devil in you, boy.”

Sam opened his mouth and tried to say something, but nothing came out. He swallowed, and licked his suddenly-dry lips.

He thought maybe his heart had skipped a beat or two.

“Wh-what?”

“You’ve got the Devil in you,” he repeated.

Sam wanted to snap at him, maybe as an attempt to hold back the fear that lived in him constantly, the fear that was always ready to spring.

I did, but not anymore!

Yet he had his mark on him, his hand branded into his skin while he’d slept during his horrid stay on the lower floors of the hospital in one of the medical wards. It was a reminder that Lucifer knew exactly where he was, knew that he was alive, and that he could come for him at any time.

“Leave me alone,” Sam got out, wondering if this man was truly mentally ill or if somehow he knew who and what he was, knew he had been touched and violated.

Sam tried turning away, but the man grabbed his tray.

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“You’ve got the Devil in you! He’s got the Devil in him!” he started screaming, accusing.

In moments, the man was trying to attack him, still screaming. Even with the extensive scarring on his back, and the stiff joints in his hands, Sam held him at bay. Even as he felt a tremble building up in the base of his spine.

Nurses came, trying to diffuse the situation. A security guard had to grab the other patient. Freed from the grip of his awful accuser, Sam backed away, nearly collapsing against the nurse’s station, finding that his knees were all wobbly, like they’d turned to Jell-O.

The man continued to yell, truly angered and terrified.

Hands shaking violently, fingers suddenly weak, the tray fell from his grip.

He tasted blood on his tongue, felt pressure that quickly turned into pain deep in his body.

Lucifer was pressed against him in Castiel’s body, buried deep in him. He was growling in his ear that he was his to do with as he pleased, that Sam was made for him.

Dean was screaming.

The tremble released itself up his spine, scraping along each and every muscle. It beat against the rhythm of his panicked heart.

Sam couldn’t feel his hands, his chest hurt so badly he thought he was going to die.

The brand on his chest burned, down through the layers of his skin, through muscle, through nerves and bone, down to his scarred soul with wounds that were still raw and bloody.

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” Sam breathed.

There was a nurse in front of him, he thought, but all sounds of her voice were muffled, like he was hearing it through water.

Sam looked around wildly, needing a place to hide, to lock himself away from the world till he was clean, to lock himself away from Lucifer.

He was here.

Wasn’t he?

He felt his touch, heard his voice.

Dean was by his side now, had rushed over from where he’d been sitting and stabbing a notebook angrily with a pen. His rectangular-framed glasses had slid down his nose a bit.

Dean tried to hold Sam’s trembling arm, but Sam pulled out of his grip.

Fuck, he was going to be sick.

Sam lost all feeling in his body, thought maybe he wasn’t real.

He’s got the Devil in him! He’s got the Devil in him! Evil! Evil! He does!

How could he be real when he couldn’t breathe?

He thought maybe he heard someone gasping and panting, like their lungs were begging for air, but that couldn’t be him, right?

He thought maybe someone was calling his name.

Sam blacked out.

~~~

Sam came to with a splitting headache, and a burning at his chest. He tried to cry out, putting a hand to his head. His motions were sluggish. But he felt calm, almost. Something pulled at his chest. Tape?

Feeling groggy, like the world around him didn’t make much sense, Sam pulled his T-shirt to look down at his chest. There was a fresh bandage on it, held there with tape. Already it was a dark pink with blood.

What happened?

Sam began to realize that he had been conscious when he’d blacked out.

Had he done this to himself?

It made sense. Before, while aware of himself and his surroundings he had tried to claw or cut the brand off of him. He’d actually once used a project he’d done during an art therapy session. They’d painted on clear plastic, coloring in the divots and dips that made a picture of a rising sun. While alone he’d broken it in half to make a sharp edge. When that had been taken away, he’d discovered with careful work that the plastic comb each patient was given could be used to cut his skin.

There was some blood under his fingernails this time though.

Had he been clawing at himself? What had he been given? His right bicep was a little sore, like he’d gotten an injection.

There was a knock on the door and then a nurse came in.

“Hey, Sam, how are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” was all he could think to say.”

“I’ll get you some pain meds. Ibuprofen okay for you?”

Sam nodded, and then rested back against the bed. God, he was sleepy. Which should’ve made him panic because now he wouldn’t be able to fight if Lucifer came.

Really, how could he fight the Devil on a regular day though?

It was as if his reactions were being repressed, like everything inside his body was being pressed down and kept at bay. It felt kind of nice, actually, which he wasn’t sure was something he’d ever tell Dean.

The nurse came back with a paper cup, and a smaller plastic cup, one with water, one with a large, white pill.

Sam sat up and took the medicine.

“Sorry about your headache. Haldol can do that sometimes,” the nurse said.

“Haldol…. Was—was that what I was given?”

The nurse nodded. “We had to, unfortunately. You were hurting yourself.”

Sam apologized, but wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Do you want to talk to your therapist you have for the night shift? From what we can tell, you had a panic attack.”

“I think I blacked out.”

“Yeah, that can happen sometimes.”

Sam thought about it, but decided—even in his more agreeable state—that no, he wouldn’t want to talk to anyone. Only Dean would know, only Dean would understand.

“Can I talk to my brother?”

The nurse seemed to resist making some sort of facial expression (probably a negative one, then), but he said that Sam would be allowed out of this room if he promised he wouldn’t hurt himself, or anyone else.

Sam promised, and said that he was all right.

One of the many, many lies he told in here.

Walking carefully, headache still pounding right above his eyes, he went to find the only person who would understand his pain, the one who had been through it all with him, and suffered by his side.

And hopefully, Lucifer wasn’t on his way.

[czeriahshiptank]

Hi ! New fic just dropped....

Heaven envies the geese - Czeriahx

Summary:

Just as I was about to lay Tiān Zhīnǚ onto one of the bed, she grabbed my arm and, for the first time, spoke to me. Her voice was as soft as a breeze, made rough by her earlier crying, but I felt my heart flutter at being acknowledged nonetheless.

“My, my coat. You saved me, you have to give me my coat back.” “Your coat ?” “Yes. If you think any good of me, Lán HuáiYì, find my coat and give it back to me. You gain nothing while keeping it, I assure you.”

As soon as the words escaped her lips, I remembered the words of my master, and for the first time of my life, I lied.

“I will my lady.”

And then, he did not.

-----

Or, my take on what happened to Madam Lán, with a healthy portion of divergence and shapeshifters.

----------------->>>  https://archiveofourown.org/works/43880899 <<<-----------------

[lgbtqlegends]

woo here's day 11!! maybe someday i'll be able to stop posting at 230 in the morning, but today is not that day obviously.

Summary:

No. 11: "911, What's Your Emergency?"

Prompts: Self-Done First Aid / Makeshift Splint

In which Sara takes a few days off of the Waverider because she needs some space to clear her head. She stays in Star City and goes on solo patrols during the night. One night, she gets hurt and hides out in the Bunker while she patches herself up, not wanting to go to the hospital or worry Quentin. Felicity finds her and convinces (or rather, Tells) her to go back to the Waverider.

[diddle-riddle]

Dark Angel

[Warning for potentially triggering themes: - implied / referenced: underage rape / non-con (not described or explicit, but stated - NOT between Bruce and Ed) - teen pregnancy - a setting with Alpha / Beta / Omega dynamics (Edward is an Omega in this)]

...... .....

Edward Nashton stroked lovingly the thin blond fuzz covering the top of his baby's head.

Stephanie addressed him a questioning gaze, her Caribbean blue eyes wide open making her permanently resemble a curious bird eager to discover the world, explore her surroundings and have a contact with everything around her.

He smiled, in awe of the tiny creature. The one month old baby petted the soft pale skin of his left breast with her minuscule fists, sucking on the nipple in her mouth.

It's the second time his Omega body goes through this change: his flat chest developed during his pregnancy, until it formed two small but round bosoms, that will entirely deflate post-breastfeeding.

He attested with Jason, whom he nourished up to the Alpha's twentieth month of existence, that the breasts fastly disappear once they don't secrete milk anymore, for him to fully regain his normal masculine silhouette.

Everything made him insecure during his first pregnancy: the changes, the waves of hormones of a new kind triggering his male Omega biology, the judgemental gaze of people in the streets when seeing such a young person carrying a life, the crushing anxiety of not knowing how to raise that child he had out of a night in an alley with a female Alpha who took more than she was allowed. Driven mad by heat, at thirteen, he could only spread his legs and beg for release.

Such a dark life period.

Such a... drastic opposition to his current situation, nearly five years later, in which things improved.

"Is something wrong?" The low voice of the symbiote who lives in his body inquired, worried when he felt his host shaking like when he is scared or cold.

A symbiote going by 'Bruce', the name Eddie gave to the extraterrestrial who bonded with him while he was three months pregnant expecting Steph. Touched to be proposed an Earthian appellation, the alien adopted it... and adopted them.

Edward, Jason and Stephanie Nashton.

Bruce learned everything about Ed's story after they became 'roommates', more by accident than anything. He took a sincere liking on the young Omega mother, who raised on his own a little Alpha and was pregnant of a second child, conceived by someone who left him when finding out about the pregnancy.

"Art is not a bad man," Eddie had sighed once Bruce suggested they stop by at the Browns' house and deal with the couple of Alphas, Arthur and Crystal Brown, who cast him out when unveiling the truth. "He simply... didn't want a baby, and he is married. If I chose to get rid of Steph, he wouldn't have asked Jay and I depart from his home. Since aborting from my baby was out of the question... here we are."

And 'here' was good.

Edward rents a modest flat, Bruce protects him and his children, he morphed into their 'extraterrestrial guardian angel'.

"Nothing wrong," Eddie murmured at present, when a smooth hand wiped the tear that rolled down his cheek. "I am just... happy."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Humans do that, sometimes. They... cry because everything is alright, they don't know how to express their joy otherwise."

"Humans are weird."

Yet... one thing certain is that Bruce found a family.

He will do anything to keep them safe and make them feel loved.

...................

Read “Dark Angel” on AO3 here Discover the rest of the DC Symbiotes Series on AO3 here

[mmhm-vids]

Title: Kill the Lights Fandom: Revolutionary Girl Utena Vidder: nanatamago Music: The Birthday Massacre - Kill the Lights Summary: from the vidder: "In the end, both the prince and the castle where eternity dwells are just illusions. I shall now reveal reality to you" A tribute to the endurance of Utena and Anthy's friendship, even when what they knew wasn't as it seemed. Warnings: canon typical implied rape; canon flashing lights and quick cuts

[artfulacrostic]

whumptober begins!!

flying headfirst into fate

Dick let go. He'd fallen farther before, he was sure, but in the moment, as his grapple gun snagged on one of his gloves and sent him tipping sideways, he couldn't remember when.

OR: Five times in Dick Grayson's life that there was no safety net, and one time that there was.

+

Whumptober 2023 Day No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” Safety Net

[alexanderpearce]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: In the Earth (2021) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Parnag Fegg/Zach, Martin Lowery/Zach Characters: Zach, Martin Lowery, Parnag Fegg, Alma, Olivia Wendle Additional Tags: Forest Sex, in the literal sense of the term. he has sex with the forest., Character Study, Old Gods, Blood and Gore, Self-Harm, Rituals, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, no beta we die like men

Zach and the thing in the forest, entwined.

[tarlos-spain]

Whump Tarlos Week Day 2

Prompt: TK STRAND WHUMP: "What do you mean TK never made it there? I saw him leave a half hour ago - he should be there."

Title: Don't stop dreaming just because you had a nightmare

Summary: "Owen, when you said it's been a tough day for TK, what did you mean?"

"His last call was rough. A kid, twenty-five years old, overdosed. They did everything they could, but they lost him."

"Oh no."

"Exactly. When he came back, he was, you know...quiet, he looked sad, hurt, but he didn't want to talk about it. He took his stuff and as soon as it was time, he left. He said he was going straight home."

"Shit... I'm going to go out and look for him, maybe he wanted to walk and didn't want to talk to anyone."

As they were talking, Carlos heard a new incoming call on the phone. He looked at it and, seeing Lexi's name, it felt like he stopped breathing. He hated knowing his instinct was always right.

Carlos looked at his watch. He knew perfectly well how long it took TK to get home from the firehouse; sometimes there was a little more traffic and the bus was fifteen minutes late but it had been over an hour and his husband still hadn't arrived home.

He had sent him a couple of messages and he hadn't even read them. He had called him and TK hadn't answered. Carlos wasn't the type of person who would let himself get carried away for no reason out of anguish, especially when it was about TK, but on this occasion, he felt it inside, he felt that something was wrong, something had happened to his husband.

He called Owen, hoping that TK had stayed behind at the firehouse talking to him, joking with the guys; he even hoped that he had fallen asleep after too long a day.

"Hey Carlos." There was surprise in the tone of his father-in-law's voice. That could only mean he didn't know where his son was.

"Hey, Owen, tell me you know where TK is, tell me he's still over there."

"No, TK actually left for home as soon as the shift ended. It's been a hard enough day for him. Why, hasn't he come home yet?"

"No, I've been waiting for him for quite a while but nothing. I've texted him, I've called him... Owen, TK isn't answering."

"Oh, shit. I'm going to ask Tommy, Nancy and the others."

"Owen, when you said it's been a tough day for TK, what did you mean?"

"His last call was rough. A kid, twenty-five years old, overdosed. They did everything they could, but they lost him."

"Oh no."

"Exactly. When he came back, he was, you know...quiet, he looked sad, hurt, but he didn't want to talk about it. He took his stuff and as soon as it was time, he left. He said he was going straight home."

"Shit... I'm going to go out and look for him, maybe he wanted to walk and didn't want to talk to anyone."

As they were talking, Carlos heard a new incoming call on the phone. He looked at it and, seeing Lexi's name, it felt like he stopped breathing. He hated knowing his instinct was always right.

He told Owen he'd call him as soon as he heard anything, even though he knew, as much as he tried to believe otherwise, he wasn't going to give him good news.

"Tell me you found TK; tell me he's okay."

"I see you were expecting bad news," his former partner said on the other end of the phone.

"Fuck, Lexi, I’m not expecting bad news, I just want my husband home. Where is he, what happened?"

"We're two blocks from your house, the alley behind Target Market." Carlos knew that was ten minutes from the loft. Why hadn't TK come home then? "I don't know how to tell you this in a way that sounds less terrible than it is, but someone beat up your husband, Carlos."

He stormed out of the house, cell phone in his pocket as his only companion, and almost left his keys behind. He broke into a run, not remembering ever getting anywhere so fast. As soon as he arrived, he recognized the 126 ambulance and the figures of Tommy and Nancy still on shift and worried that this victim could have really be TK.

Keep reading in AO3

[lifblogs]

Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Explicit Pairings: Royce Hemlock/Tech (Non-Consensual Pairing), Tech/Phee, Tech & Crosshair & Wrecker & Hunter & Omega & Echo Word Count: 3632 Summary: Tech is facing his first mission since Tantiss with trepidation. A word said to him in comfort is enough to bring repressed and forgotten memories to the surface, and he feels like he's being torn apart inside. WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, PTSD, Flashbacks, Attempted Self-Harm, Near-Attempted Murder-Suicide, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Author's Note: I'm so sorry.

[blackveine]

Language: English

Chapters: 6/6

Words: 39973

Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series), The Legend of Vox Machina (Cartoon)

Rating: Mature

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Relationships: Percival “Percy” Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vax’ildan

Character(s): Percival “Percy” Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Vax’ildan, Scanlan Shorthalt

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, not between any of the main characters but important to be aware of, Pre-Stream, minimal spoilers for canon events, Mutual Pining, not actual unrequited crush, Slow Burn, it’s all about the romantic tension, Developing Friendships, Pre-Relationship

Series: Vox Machina Fics, Pelor’s Harvest

Summary: Sequel to Pelor’s Harvest. The morning after introduces even more complications—a kidnapping plot that lured the group from Emon, an alchemist who’s been making an aphrodisiac, and a truly incredible amount of mutual pining.

[princecosmosanon]

I would go into more details, but that leads to spoilery territory and I’ll only give them out if you or someone else requests them (and it will be under a cut).

Ohh I would love to hear them!!

Haha, alrighty you asked for it! I’ll be putting the answer under a cut. And for those who want to dive in, this is a response to Why Zuko is Acting Out at the end of chapter 6 in Hearts on the Mend.

Also, the following content can be upsetting to some, so please tread carefully and as always, mind the tags:

So, first off, Zuko is a victim of abuse in this fic, which happened to him when he was a child. I have already tagged this in the story itself as “implied/referenced child abuse” and “implied/referenced rape/non-con” and someday Zuko will explain about that, but I will say for the sake of keeping it more sanitized here, he has some incredibly averse reactions to being touched or cornered.

However, he cannot escape the fact that he is a member of the royal family, he is the next heir to the Fire throne, and he will need to have heirs of his own someday. Thus, his current predicament.

Despite this, however, he does not hate Sokka as it seems to be implied by his words or actions. Zuko is actually what I call “scent attracted” to Sokka; he has an incredibly strong reaction to Sokka’s scent in general and it compounds his own physical attraction to him.

As you can guess, this is also what Sokka is currently going through.

But then why did Zuko react so badly to Sokka’s smell at the end of chapter 6?

Well, Zuko is very stressed, and he feels as an Alpha he has a certain level of power over Sokka, and the imbalance of power is fueling his anxiety. Sokka did not hear the entire conversation between Zuko and Iroh, and before he heard what he did, Iroh (being an uncle) was just teasing his nephew a little to try and help with his tension. It backfired causing Zuko lashed out at someone who he thought wasn’t there and couldn’t be hurt by his words, which we all know as readers that is not the case.

Zuko’s biggest fears are turning into the people who once harmed him; of becoming someone who abused their power in order to physically abuse someone who cannot fight back. He’s not being stoic, he’s holding himself back. He’s not being stuck up, he’s trying to ensure he won’t become a danger. It isn’t uncommon for victims to feel like they are the ones who fucked up, like they are the reason bad things happened to them and that they’re bad people who are going to turn into those same abusers.

Zuko has a lot of trauma to unpack and heal from, and as the prince it’s not something anyone can easily speak about for fear of listening ears.

Someday, Sokka will hear Zuko’s story, and it’s gonna be hard on both of them. But this is a story about overcoming trauma, healing, and learning to handle relationships when the worst of us rears it’s ugly head. That’s why it’s called Hearts on the Mend. There’s so much healing to be done. Hopefully, you and everyone else reading will be able to appreciate just how much Zuko is trying once the full reality of the situation comes to the fore.

Thank you again for reading! As always, if anyone has any questions they are free to ask, and I am always willing to answer even if it’s full of spoilers because I like talking about my writing.

[diddle-riddle]

Dark Night

[Warning for potentially triggering themes: - implied / referenced rape / non con (NOT between Bruce and Ed) - teen pregnancy - Alpha / Beta / Omega dynamics - An overall very creepy atmosphere in that one. I know I tend to be more of a fluff writer (especially in my short fics), but I also try other tones / settings.]

.............. ..............

Alone a freezing night in a shady district of Gotham City, wrapped in a worn out trenchcoat that once belonged to a scarecrow, Eddie Nygma is crying.

Sobbing. Salty water runs down his cheeks, his mint green eyes cloud with tears, a sour taste clogs his mouth, his throat dries, his hiccups rock his frame as strongly as if someone gripped his shoulders and shook his frail body. He is damaged. Sad. Angry at the world for the way it treats him.

His Omega biology has always been a burden he hauls behind him. His whole life, it brought nothing but abuse. Fifteen years of constant pain and repeated humiliations. From his family, from classmates at school, from random citizens he encounters since he moved to Gotham, from people he thought he could trust. From the person he thought he could... love...

Thinking about Jonathan exacerbated his fury. Crane dumped him many months ago, he should be over it... Yet the recent mess with Arthur Brown awoke older insecurities. While nothing near an intelligent or sympathetic fellow, Arthur had been supportive enough to host him under his roof when he most needed it. That is, until the man took more from him than he should have and Eddie ran away... then realized he kept a 'souvenir'.

The waves of hormones triggered by his teen pregnancy don't help when he meets thirsty clients in seedy places. Even though Omegas don't go into heats over the nine months they carry a life, then a couple of weeks post-delivery while they breastfeed, their spiced, pronounced pregnant scent often suffices to arouse Alphas as efficaciously as mating cycles. It was not a client but a colleague from the smuggling ring that couldn't keep her hands to herself tonight. The female Alpha cornered the younger male Omega after he fulfilled his drug dealer activity in the sordid network he joined. This pays and it's an evolution compared to selling his body to greedy Alphas during heats like he did previously... until it reached its breakage point and another Alpha acted again like a monster.

Edward locked the door of his minuscule studio behind him. It's a miracle in itself he obtained this undeclared lease agreement. Comprehensive, the male Beta who owns this apartment complex isn't regarding of the age or social status of those who rent his dingy flats.

He went straight for a shower. Cold: he can't afford hot water all month, but it's better than nothing. He appears clean on the outside whereas he feels so dirty, soiled on the inside.

What happened?

Crying in a lane, he lost consciousness, likely passed out from the pain and exhaustion. Then... the sensation of something sliding inside him, punctuated by a white noise in his head...

He blames this on the pregnancy and how critically it disturbs his hormonal cycle.

Among others, it pushed in him the poisonous refrain of 'I must find an Alpha to assist me, to provide for me, to help me raise my baby, to be the father of my future litters...'

The ginger felt a sudden warmth on his four-month-old baby bump, as if a gentle hand applied against the slightly distended belly and stroked the soft skin.

"You don't need an Alpha. I will protect you," a low, rocky voice assured.

Edward startled, he frantically looked around in the cramped bathroom...

"Worry not, little one. I've been watching you. I know you. I can take care of you. Of both of you. And if you want, I'll help you take your revenge on those who hurt you or dared to raise a hand on you. After all... I always had a soft spot for lost children and broken things."

In the mirror, Ed finally saw the creature, half-way through a black bat and a giant snake, whose neck is... attached to his left shoulder.

Eddie fainted at the sight, under the Bat's skeptical glance. How rude of his new host, not to greet him properly.

.................

Read “Dark Night” on AO3 here Discover the rest of the DC Symbiotes Series on AO3 here