#sobbing crying wailing throwing up on the floor running up the walls laying on a train track going insane

[lo-cinno]

Hi

I’m fucking dying

[pinknatural]

(ao3)

Sometime after Cas gets his grace back, but before Dean knows that the angel riding his brother’s meatsuit is Gadreel, not Ezekiel, Dean finds himself in a pawn shop. Generally, he finds himself in pawn shops pretty often--not as often as like, someone who deals in pawns, but more often than the average person, Dean thinks. 

He’s there to see if they’ve got any guns for cheap, since he basically always needs more guns. None of the ones at that shop strike his fancy, so he walks around and looks at the other things. Browsing. Just in case--he has a house (well, a Bunker, but same thing) now, and maybe he should decorate. Maybe.

Dean passes by the jewelry without much more than a cursory glance, then he doubles back and stares. There’s a ring--a twisted band of white gold and silver, and something about it… It’s not something Dean would wear. He’s not sure what about the ring compels him, but he feels like Gollum as he looks at it and knows he needs it. What for, he has no idea.

Dean buys it. He doesn’t wear it, but sticks it in a flat little box originally meant for a bracelet and slides it into his jacket pocket. 

And he carries it, jacket pocket to jacket pocket, for years. He doesn’t tell anybody about it, but he gets into the habit of patting his chest to make sure it’s still there. Even when he’s a demon-- Crowley goes through Dean’s clothes one day, when Dean’s laying on the motel room bed naked, and he finds the box. 

“What’s this?” Crowley asks, and the First Blade is in Dean’s hand before he can process the movement. The First Blade is in Dean’s hand a lot, these days. 

“Open that and I’ll kill you,” Dean says, looking at Crowley dead in the eye so he knows that Dean isn’t fucking kidding, and Crowley stares back for a minute before he tosses the box aside and goes back into Dean’s pocket. He pulls out a condom, and the box is quickly forgotten. 

Anyway. The ring is there, in Dean’s pocket. It stays there. It’s there when Dean kills the Stynes, when he meets Amara, when he hugs his mom for the first time in thirty years. It’s there when he goes to the Apocalypse World, and the Bad Place, and Purgatory (again). 

And it’s there in that fucking dungeon, when Cas puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder and looks him in the eyes, smiling and crying. Dean feels it, burning a hole in his pocket, as Cas says things like most loving man in the whole world and you changed me and and one thing I want is something I know I can’t have and I love you and, worst of all, goodbye, Dean.

And Dean sits there, sobbing into his palms, and he knows what the ring was for.

--

Dean wraps one hand around an angel blade and curls the other into a fist. He nods at Sam, then Eileen, then he leaps into the dark pit on the wall that haunts his nightmares. 

The Empty is dark and, well, empty. His footsteps echo like he’s on a marble floor, but as far as Dean can tell there’s no difference between the walls and floor and ceiling. It’s just black. 

Dean tightens his grip on his angel blade, and he finds the first body. 

It’s a man in a grey coat. Dean doesn’t recognize him, and he keeps walking. 

Dean sees a woman in a leather jacket, a man wearing a torn polo shirt, and a woman dressed like a lounge singer. He sees a child in a pink dress and a man in a black sweater. Then there’s a fan of red hair, and Dean falters. 

Anna lays in the Empty, hair scattered around her head. Her eyes are closed and her chest moves slowly, as if in a deep, deep sleep. Dean swallows, heavy, and keeps walking. Next time, he thinks. Next time he’ll wake everyone.

The next body he sees is another unknown--old man in a brown blazer--but the one after that is someone familiar. Dean squints, decides it’s one of the douche angels he or his brother has killed over the years.

The body after that one is Ruby, and Dean gives her a wide berth. Then it’s Balthazar and Lilith and Hannah. Uriel and Raphael, Hester and Samandriel. Dagon and Ramiel. Azazel.

Alastair.

Dean keeps walking. For every body he recognizes, laying in a coma-like sleep, there’s four or five more that he’s never seen before. Some of them look vaguely familiar, like a demon he ran into once or Background Angel #5. 

Dean walks by Ishim right before he walks by Meg, and the next couple are random demons Dean vaguely remembers from his own time as one. Dean nearly trips over his own face, then he hustles to keep away from the alternate Michael. 

He’s not sure what he’ll do if he runs into Crowley. Not sure at all. But--

in the distance, a trench coat. 

Dean sprints, slides to his knees. Cups Cas’s face with his hand, leans in close. 

“Wake up,” he murmurs. “Wake up, Cas. Come on.”

Cas doesn’t stir. 

Dean shakes him. 

“Wake up, man,” he says. 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” a voice says, and Dean looks up to see a vaguely humanoid shaped black blob of goo. It crosses it’s arms. “You can’t be here.”

“I’m getting him back,” Dean tells it. “I’m taking him home.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” the Shadow asks. “He’s mine.” 

“No, he’s not,” Dean says.

“What do you mean?” the Shadow asks, tilting its head. Dean considers throwing his knife at it. “We had a deal, and now he is here, and he belongs to me. Fully and completely.”

“Fuck you,” Dean says. “He’s not yours, he’s mine, and I’m taking him home.”

And with that, Dean presses the tip of his angel blade to Cas’s throat. His grace spills out like smoke, spreading through the air, and Cas’s eyes open and he gasps. The Shadow shrieks. 

“No!” it wails. “You can’t do this!”

“I already did, asshole,” Dean spits, and then the last of Cas’s grace evaporates, and Dean grabs onto Cas’s arm, and everything goes white, then black. 

Then Dean’s on the library floor, and he stares up at the Bunker’s golden lighting for a moment before turning to face Cas. 

“Cas!”

“Dean,” Cas says. He’s still laying on the ground, and he props himself on his elbows. “What happened?”

“I got you out,” Dean says. He laughs. Cas is looking at him with wide blue eyes, and Dean feels like he might start to cry. Instead, he throws himself at Cas, tucks his face into Cas’s neck, holds him tight. Cas falls back to the floor, wrapping his arms around Dean, and for a moment they breathe together. “You stupid son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “You can’t fucking do that again.”

“I won’t,” Cas says. His voice is rough and deep, right next to Dean’s ear. Dean thinks he might cry. 

“You have to stay,” Dean says. “You have to stay.”

“I will,” Cas says. Cas promises. “Oh, Dean.”

Dean pulls back, just a little, and cups Cas’s face with his hands. “Cas,” he says. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, eyes bright and sparkly, and Dean kisses him. 

He kisses him, and Cas kisses him back, and Dean thinks--well, if he had an Empty deal that would take him when he felt true happiness--Dean would be dead right now.

He pulls back, drops his forehead to Cas’s. “God, I love you so fuckin’ much.”

“You do?” Cas asks, and Dean hates himself. Cas should know that he’s--he’s Dean’s favorite person and Dean’s best friend and Dean loves, loves, loves him. He reaches into his jacket, into the inside pocket. 

“Yeah,” he says, and he presses the ring box into Cas’s hand. “I do.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

📋 Hello I am putting a formal request in for more Chris Saves Himself AU ft Mama Nakamura taking him I’m home only to realize the full situation

Continuing the Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two |

CW: Grief, memory loss, recovering whumpee, some very brief and very vague references to noncon, minor whumpee (OC is 17), angsty fluff, reunion

It takes six days for the cops to let Akio's mom bring Tristan back to their house.

He's ready to be discharged from the hospital by day two, but there's nowhere for him to go. WRU is still saying there's no record of his existence, even with the barcode on his wrist. Tristan's only known living relative, Joanne Botham, is claiming he ran away from home and she had no idea what happened to him, that what she had told the Nakamura family was out of frustration and anger at Tristan for disappearing. The governor is out on bail facing charges for keeping Tristan in the mansion in the first place.

There are a lot of charges.

Akio feels by turns numb and enraged when he hears a news anchor read them out loud, bloodless words that don't seem to reflect at all how serious their meanings are.

The first few, he can process - false imprisonment, bodily assault - but then they keep going, and they get worse in ways Akio can barely even begin to imagine.

What Tristan has lived through... Akio's brain refuses to let it coalesce fully, but he has nightmares, dreams about Tristan screaming for him and being on the other side of a door Aki can't open.

He dreams about hands on Tristan's body and the way he might have screamed for help. Akio wakes up crying, retching, running to the bathroom to throw up whatever he's eaten that day as if he can rid himself of the poison of knowing.

His mom calls a therapist.

His father tells him to stop watching the news.

Akio just waits until they're in bed and searches for everything he can find on twitter, on reddit, on every-fucking-place anyone is talking about this. And it's everywhere.

He stops telling his parents about his nightmares after the second night.

Oliver Branch says WRU sold him a product they knew was outside the bounds of the law and lied to him about it. WRU says they don't know what he could possibly mean by that and they have no paperwork or documentation that Tris was ever in the system at all, and if he was, then there must have been a mistake about his age. They swear they'll do a total review of every single Box Boy, Babe, or Buddy to ensure absolute compliance.

The soundbites make Akio's mouth dry.

How many are there, then? If they have to keep looking to find more? How many like Tristan?

How many?

Joanne Botham, who never answers Aimi's furious calls and then changes her number after the second day, goes on TV and says she did nothing wrong and there's no proof that anything happened except maybe Tristan lying about his name and age to make WRU agree to take him in. Oliver Branch says he has the proof WRU knew, and he'll provide it in exchange for immunity.

They all point fingers at each other on national television, in press conferences and through their attorneys.

Through it all, Tristan sits in a hospital bed staring out the window at the blue sky as though it will be stolen from him all over again, waiting to be told where to go, what to do.

And it takes Aimi nearly a week to get the police to agree to allow her to take him home. She brings everything she can think of to meetings with the detectives heading up the case, shows them reams of team photos and home movies, folders and folders of everything Aimi and Mrs. Higgs had ever talked about or done together with the boys.

The hospital needs the room, needs the bed. The detectives don't want to put him into foster care when he barely seems to understand he's a person. The social services people won't take him because they're not equipped to handle a situation like this one. The adjustment houses don't want him because of something to do with what kind of Boxie he was, and Aimi doesn't elaborate and something in the set of her expression makes it clear Akio shouldn't ask.

After a week of mostly just being able to look at him through the small little square window in the hospital room's door, Aimi finally gets legal permission to take him out of there.

Akio isn't prepared for the slew of news vans that are there when he and Aimi arrive, someone having tipped off reporters that they might get a glance of the governor's secret Box Boy today. Aimi, though, simply sets her shoulders, slides a pair of dark sunglasses on, and walks through the crowd like a queen with her head held high, a small duffel bag handle in hand.

Akio hurries behind her, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched, hood pulled over his head, trying to ignore ten thousand camera flashes. It's so much worse than the leadup to the Olympics would have been, if he were still performing at elite.

Or at all.

He has a strange, surreal hope that Tris won't be disappointed in him for quitting after Tris died.

Even though he's not dead.

They step into the hospital room around 10 in the morning to find Tristan not in the bed, but sitting on the couch built into the wall under the window, curled up on the crinkly plastic cushions to look out the window, humming low, soft and tuneless.

The hum makes Akio's heart ache with a sudden realization that this odd waking dream he's been living for a week isn't a dream at all. Tears flood his eyes and he has to blink them away as fast as he can. He's heard that hum in his ear as kids during sleepovers, he's heard it when Tris was nervous before performing a new routine, he's heard it while they waited anxiously for scores or studied for school.

"Hey, sweetheart," Aimi says, her voice low and soft, but even so Tris jumps and turns to look at them with wide, startled eyes. One hand goes up to his neck, and Akio swallows when he sees Tris has wrapped gauze around his neck to sit like the collar he was wearing when he fell from the governor's bedroom balcony.

Akio watched the cell phone video that made the rounds over and over and over again. The flash of red hair, shirtless, the bruises he was covered with, his hazy drugged eyes. Over and over and over again.

Watch him fall, watch him land, watch the people run to him and get him out of there when Akio has been sitting here crying his eyes to red half the time for a dead best friend who wasn't dead at all.

"H, Hello," Tristan says, but he doesn't know them. Akio can tell, the way his eyes move between them is uncertain, unsure. "Hello, ma'am. Can, can, can I, what..." He swallows, shivering, and Akio watches the fear move across his face. "What... what can I... do for you?"

His slowed-down voice makes Akio feel sick. He's only ever seen Tristan do that when he's with people who don't understand him or love him for who he is. Now it seems like it's the only way he remembers how to talk.

All Tristan's muscles from gymnastics are gone, leaving only faded shadows of his strength behind. He's skinny, so pale he nearly reflects the light from the ceiling. His freckles are faded, and his hair is shorter than Tris ever liked it.

Being so thin makes his eyes even bigger, they seem to overwhelm the rest of his face.

"Honey, we're going to take you to our house," Aimi says, keeping her voice the same low gentle cadence. "While we figure out what happens next. Aki and I will be taking care of you for a while. How's that sound? Would that be okay?"

Tristan looks between them again, and something shifts in his face. A kind of desperation moves there, and he turns more fully to face them, leaning over a little to look up at them. Hair falls over his forehead, and his hands move to rub over the texture of a loose pair of sweatpants someone gave him to wear under his hospital gown. "To... your house? Would I be... yours?"

He looks at Akio again, and there's something in his face that says he sees that as the best case scenario, that he was ready for far, far worse than simply changing owners. That he's... hoping he'll be Akio's property now.

Akio's stomach flips at the thought and he has to put a hand over his mouth and turn away, catching the sob before it can make its way up out of his throat.

Aimi's arm moves around his shoulders instinctively, and she leans over, pressing a kiss to her son's short black hair. "It's okay," Aimi whispers. "It'll be hard at first. But it's going to be okay, Aki. Saishūtekini wa daijōbudesu. Tristan wa mada anata no shin'yūdesu."

Tristan, sitting on the little couch, blinks a few times. "Friend," he says in English, a little haltingly. "Shin' yu. Means... best friend." He scoots closer to them along the couch, and his eyes are so big and so very, very green. Just how Akio always remembered them.

Aimi's head raises and turns to look at him, her arm tightening around Aki, breath catching in her throat. "You remember that?"

"No." Tristan shakes his head. Scoots a little closer, even. "Yes. I don't know why. Are you..." He looks at Akio. "Wa-... watashitachiha... sh-shin, um, shin-shin'yūdeshita. Yes? Did I-... did I say it right?"

Tristan's Japanese was never great, he'd just picked up some here and there from all the time he spent around the Nakamuras at home and in their car. They used to lay awake at night during sleepovers practicing over and over until Tristan had a new phrase to impress Aimi with.

But hearing his voice, his living breathing real live voice, sounding out the words...

It's too much.

It's too fucking much.

"Yeah, um, y-yeah, you-..." Akio's words are suddenly gone. He chokes on his fear that this somehow is a dream he will wake up from to find Tris still cold in some unknown open grave, and he can't keep the tears back any longer.

His knees buckle under the onslaught of grief and hope and fear and love, and he drops to the cold tile hospital floor, hands pressed over his mouth until his lips are pushed painfully into his teeth, and he wails, muffled but loud enough that there's rustling as the cops guarding the door turn to look inside through the viewing window.

Aimi drops into a crouch behind him, rubbing at his back as he curls over himself. Her voice trembles with tears she doesn't shed. Akio remembers the days after they were told Tristan was dead, how she would cry in her room at night with Aki's dad when he was home from work, but somehow when he and Emi were bawling their heads off, her voice stayed calm, she kept her composure.

Right up until she was alone.

Now, though, she's barely hanging on as her son sobs on a hospital room floor before the emptied-out shell of his best friend.

Bare feet pad along the floor until Tristan drops down in front of him, reaching slowly out. Cool fingertips touch the back of Akio's hand, and he pulls them slowly down to look and see Tristan only a foot or so away from him, kneeling, watching him.

"I know you," Tristan whispers. "It hurts, but... I know... you. Don't, um, don't I?"

Akio can barely see him through the tears that have turned the world to watercolor suggestions. Nothing's in focus. But he grabs onto Tristan's hand, those familiar always-cold fingers, and holds tight.

"You know m-me," He manages. "You do, Tris. You know me. We-... we know you. We want to t-t-take you h-home."

Tristan tilts his head to the side, and it's such a familiar gesture, one he was so sure he'd never get to see again. "My... name is Baldur," He says, softly. "My Sir named me-"

"Please don't call him that. Can you... can you answer to Tristan? Please?" Akio is the one to reach out this time, touching Tristan's shoulder, hesitant. Waiting for him to pull back and away, to flinch like he's been doing when they watch him with the nurses.

Instead, Tris takes a breath and leans into the touch.

"It hurts," He says. "But, but, but, but-... but I can try."

Akio nods, and then Tristan is moving forward, and their arms are around each other and Akio is scared of himself for a second, scared of the welling of feelings he can't control. He's afraid he'll crack Tristan's ribs with how tightly he holds on.

Tristan's face buries itself against his neck, into the crook of his shoulder.

"I missed you so much," Akio whispers against the coppery hair. He's going to start crying again. He can hear his mom sniffing behind him, digging into her purse to pull out the little pack of tissues she always has in there. "I missed you so, so much, Tris."

"I think... I think I, I, I missed you, too," Tristan whispers back, and Akio isn't sure if he can even know if he means it, but he also knows that it's so good to hear the words that he doesn't even care.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

[honorguk]

you console them through a break up➔ skz

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pairing ━ stray kids x friend!reader genre ━ mild angst, fluff warnings ━ mentions of sad skz :( + breakups, pain, etc... summary ━ he’s going through a tough time after a break up, and you’re, undoubtedly, there for him. this is probs how it would go ↳ requested! a/n: i did this in a muuuuuuch longer and different style, i hope you like it because i really did :))

────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ────

─ • CHAN

i can see this happening two ways: he would show up at your door with his head completely dropped towards the ground and eyes glossy, as you’d welcome him with a hug so that he rests on you for just a little bit, or you’d knock at his studio door - in which he’s been suspiciously spending a little too much time in that week - only to be met with huffs and a sad love song dedicated to his ex that both of you know he’ll never release. 

you’d sit there on his couch, listening to his side of things and how inevitable the chances of getting back together are, and would hold his hand throughout. he’d squeeze it at the parts of the story which hurt him most, and then shift his seating so that he’s beside you on the couch, once again, laying his head on your shoulder and taking in the comforting sadness in the room through barely audible sniffles.

─ • MINHO

he was always one of the quieter members, but never this quiet...

when you crawled on top of his bunk to cuddle, as you usually did, it earned no reaction from him, and you know something was wrong when he simply turned so that his back faced you, eyes continuously glued to his phone throughout. you saw him scrolling through the break-up messages, and even though he initiated the break-up, he couldn’t help but feel like a total idiot. you’d lay a soft hand on his shoulder as you silently read through the texts with him, and only when he’s closed his phone and a stray tear ran down his face is when you’d gently collapse onto him, and just lay there. 

soon, he’d turn. his arms would snake around you and he’d press you harshly to him, more sniffles eliciting from the boy, as you’d serve as tranquil comfort. later, when you forced him out of his bed for dinner did he want to tell you everything, but you shushed him up with a forkful of food in his mouth, telling him that everything is in the past, and unfortunately it cannot be changed, so we should therefore, move on.

─ • CHANGBIN

he would definitely be the type to pretend everything is totally fine, until he just can’t anymore. you know him better than most, and aren’t like his members - who’d be too shy or scared to approach the boy in a state like this - so you’d get to the bottom of his constant sulkiness. 

he’d also try to tell you that he’s “on a break” and it’s “not over”, when it totally is, so you’d help him by cautiously telling him to stop lying to himself, and see the bigger picture, and how to work around it. after a waterfall of tears and upset mumbles passes, you brighten his mood using compliments and listing of the things you like about him, before comforting him and getting him to see the rest of the positive things in his life.

─ • HYUNJIN

you would be there with him as he was going through his break-up. when he went upstairs to take a phone call and didn’t come back for over an hour, you’d creep your way to the doorway of your bedroom and see the boy with pale trails of tears on his cheeks, holding onto the phone for dear life as the other party had said something final, and hung up. he’d stare at his screen in utter despair, before loudly wailing and crumbling to the floor. 

you’d run up to him and wrap your arms around his fragile form, as he harshly grabbed your arms and pulled you closer. it would take at least a week of him staying in your house until he wouldn’t cry every night anymore, and you’d do that by simply distracting him. although talking it out helped on the first day, forgetting was much harder to do, so you’d do everything in your power to make him, well, forget -- arcades, cinemas, baking, drawing - anything that lead him to a different headscape would help, and would also help him let out his emotions healthily, whether it was thorugh rage at some stupid gameboy machine or his flow of creativity through art.

─ • HAN

han’s the type to cover up his pain and sadness with jokes, so when he told you that he’s been broken up with and tried to smile through the story, his facade couldn’t help but crumble when you unexpectedly jumped to hug him, silencing the boy with your words, “you don’t have to lie around me.” 

that would be what got him balling, and without telling you the rest of the story - the ending was obvious - you’d let him snot up your shirt, and soon would bring him to your room, in which you’d fix up his face and hair, complimenting him throughout, and giving him advice as you did so. 

“if you still love them, go get them back - try your best. rejection is much worse than living with the regret of not doing anything at all.”

─ • FELIX

he didn’t even have to tell you; when he showed up at your door with the most bloodshot eyes you’ve ever seen, you’d pout at his state and let him inside with a huge hug. he’d bawl into your shoulders and chest as you sat him in the living room and waited until he got tired of crying, with incoherent mumbles in between. you’d wrap him in a blanket and throw away the large pile of snotty tissues on your coffee table, before you both decided on a movie. he would keep laying his head on your shoulder, and you'd have to pat it every now and then whenever a romantic scene would come, hearing low whimpers and sob erupt from the boy again. 

─ • SEUNGMIN

“perhaps it’s for the best,” he’d huff out unexpectedly as you sat beside each other on the couch. you’d tilt your head on confusion, putting away your phone and turning to him. “they broke up with me.” seungmin would say emotionlessly, almost lifelessly, which was his mechanism for comfort. “what do you mean?” you’d ask, but he’d only sigh. 

“what I mean, is that it’s over. forever.” 

you’d lowly curse under your breath as seungmin sat, soullessly staring at the wall, eyes starting to gloss up at the memory. “this calls for liquor,” you’d say and head to the kitchen to grab two glasses and a whiskey, before returning to a now-sniffling best friend. you’d pour the drinks, click your glasses and put on a show you always loved watching together, and although it didn’t cause the same laughter and smiles as before, it was the best plan both of you could come up with for the time being. he’d rest his head on your shoulder after a while, eyes closing as he drifted off to sleep, his ultimate solution for everything as you carried on with the series.

─ • JEONGIN

the sadness wouldn’t hit jeongin until he was in your arms, being hugged.  “they said they had to think about it...” he would blubber out, wiping his nose and eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. your parental instincts would come in as you’d crouch down to his height, jeongin on the floor of your apartment, and start preaching.

“when you truly love someone, you don’t have to think about things like that, jeongin. the fact that they’re doubting themselves is enough of a sigh for you to let go. so let’s move on, together.” you’d grab his hands as you spoke, yet the words seemed to fly over his head. “we could’ve just remained friends..” he insisted, lying to himself. 

“after everything you’ve been through, you could never just be friends..” you sighed, and watched jeongin’s face contort in another wail, wrapping your arms around his fragile form.

[ghoultramp]

daisies [bakugou x reader] {req}

▷       bnha

↳ pairing: katsuki bakugou x f!reader

↳ content: student!reader w/ undefined quirk, post 298, hospital setting, angst, hurt, comfort, (implied) ptsd, descriptions of injuries

↳ words: 2.5k (w/ bonus drabble)

⇢ summary: there was no amount of training that could have prepared any of you for this. it was chaos, pandemonium, all-out-war. you didn’t want to open your eyes to a world without him, you were sure there was no way that Katsuki could have survived those injuries.

also available on ao3

⇢ note: for ann, thank you for the request, i really did have fun writing this!

loosely based around the events during ch. 285/286. p,s. i also just really love soft bakugou

There was no amount of training that could have prepared any of you for this, not you and your fellow students nor the Pros who fought by your side. It was chaos, pandemonium, all-out war.

You whipped your head around, panicked when you caught sight of Katsuki spinning on his heels to run in a direction away from you. There was no way he would be able to hear your voice over the screaming and shouting around you, nor over the explosions and debris hitting the ground somewhere in the distance but you had to try.

"Kacchan!" you strained your voice, panicking, shouting as loudly as you could. "Kacchan!"

He briefly looked over his shoulder to you, watching as his mouth moved as he continued to run. You shook your head, mouth agape, looking further ahead in the direction he was running; it was Izuku, the green electricity produced by his quirk unmistakable. Your heart beat painfully hard against your chest, eyes flitting from Izuku to Katsuki and back again.

You watched as Katsuki sprinted as fast as he could, pushing through the painful pulling in his muscles. Izuku needed help, he wasn’t about to let him down—not now, not ever again—he couldn’t.  

“Please, wait!” you screamed, almost doubling over trying to raise the volume in your voice. It wouldn’t make a difference. You bore down on your teeth, the tension pushing against your jaw.

No matter how hard you tried, it wasn't until he stopped—a prepared stance with his oversized grenade-shaped gauntlets directed at the floor—were you able to catch up to him. Panting, trying to catch your breath, you looked around at the carnage around you. Katsuki’s face was turned to the sky, his face contorted in a mix of anger and fear. You followed his gaze upward; your hands instinctively reached for your mouth as you gasped.

You watched as Katsuki propelled himself forward, shouting orders to Endeavor and Todoroki-kun who readied themselves on either side of him. Ears ringing, you were helpless as you watched on in shock; where had all that strength and courage gone?

The realisation was a slap in the face; your quirk was of no use here. This battle had gone on long enough, you were feeling just about ready to drop. The guilt ate away at you while others around you pushed and pushed and pushed. You looked back at the group you’d separated yourself from, crying out in anguish when the only sight you saw was a billowing cloud of smoke.

You turned back to Katsuki who looked over his shoulder at you; baring and gritting his teeth in determination. You gave him a quick nod and watched as he, Todoroki-kun, and Endeavor propelled themselves upward, toward the unknown assailant and Izuku.

“Please…” you whimpered through gritted teeth, knuckles turning white as the skin pulled taught against bundled fists.

It happened so fast, too fast for you to properly register what you were seeing after being momentarily blinded by a flash of hot, white flames. Long, dark tendrils reached out toward Izuku, you felt your hand instinctively reach out toward him. You saw the unmistakable trail of Katsuki’s gauntlet explosions, propelling him toward his best friend; his body reacting of its own accord.

Eyes wide, the only thing he focused on was Izuku; boosting himself through the air, nothing mattered at that moment. Katsuki pushed and pushed against his fatigued muscles, his shoulder coming into contact with Izuku’s battered and bruised body.

You now understood the adage of time slowing down, or coming to a standstill; the moment Izuku’s body was shoved to safety, you heard nothing but the whooshing of blood coursing through your veins and the loud, thudding beat of your heart. Helpless, you could only be a standby witness as the long, dark spokes pierced Katsuki’s body.

One. Two. Three. Four.

And they were gone. Summoned back to where they came from.

Your legs carried you forward on pure adrenaline, eyes locked on Katsuki as his outwardly lifeless body fell from the sky. The tears burned at your eyes, fists swinging at your sides, muscles pumping and burning.

No, don’t you die on me, Kacchan!

Don’t you die on us!

“Watch out!” was the last thing you heard before it went dark.

Something heavy and hard collided with you, taking your body out from the side and sending you airborne.

Alive: Numbers Unknown.

Injured: Numbers Unknown.

Dead: Numbers Unknown…

Searing hot pain.

With ease, you could vividly remember the pain that swaddled you, right before the trauma to your head rendered you unconscious. Too scared to open your eyes, you lay there with the image of Katsuki’s smile projected in the darkness. You fought against your lips as they twisted, stopping yourself from crying out.

You didn’t want to open your eyes to a world without him, there was very little chance he could have survived such injuries, a fact you didn’t want to believe, but one you were so sure of.

You watched—confused at first—as the soft smile on his face twisted into a grimace of agony. You watched as he looked down at his shaking hands.

Blood. His blood.

You couldn’t open your eyes, trying so hard to fight against the image, your chest heaving up and down with your panicked breaths.

“Kacchan…” you whimpered, lip trembling, “I’m sorry.”

You watched as his four gaping wounds pulsed in time his heartbeat, grotesque in its detail. This was your own guilt torturing you, telling you, ‘this is what you’ve done.’ It didn’t matter that there was no possible way you would have been able to save him, it didn’t matter that he was the one who threw himself into danger; no, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that you didn’t save him.

You continued to watch as this apparition of Katsuki grew paler and paler, horrified as he coughed on his own blood. He reached out his hand toward you and—

“No!” you screamed, eyes snapping open, limbs flailing against the mattress as you bolted upright, you felt the pull of an oxygen mask around the lower half of your face. 

You whimpered, lips pulling down at the corners as you felt the dam about to burst. You looked down at your bandaged hands and brought them to your face. You worked quickly at removing your mask, choking back against the wailing sobs you knew were coming. The plastic made a horrible noise as it hit the tile floor, carelessly throwing it over the side of the bed.

You buried your face into your hands, allowing yourself to wail, your weary shoulders shaking violently with your sobs. It was incredibly painful, but the grief of losing him… there was nothing else comparable.

Your bandages were soaked, but what did that matter? You turned over your hand, eyes following a tube that lead to an intravenous drip hanging on a wheeled pole.

Sniffling, you made an attempt at taking in your surroundings; if the unmistakable medicinal smell didn’t give away your location, the sterile, white hospital room certainly did. Bright yellow curtains framed the window opposite you, the half-open blinds allowed the golden afternoon light to pour in. Your eyes fell to a small, simplistic bouquet on the table beneath it.

It was pretty and delicate; sweet little daisies surrounded two, beautiful red carnations. You supposed it added some colour, mentally reminding yourself to thank whoever filled the vase.

You growled against clenched teeth, inching your legs closer to the edge of the bed with the intent of swinging them over. It was agony, you wanted nothing more than to curl up into yourself and scream. Scream until your lungs gave out, cry until your tears ran dry.

But you were here. You were alive. You had to be thankful for that. You had to push forward and fight, you couldn’t let anyone’s death be in vain.

Your eyes scanned the walls for a clock, it had to be late afternoon by your guess.

Your feeble hand gripped the wheeled iv pole tightly, holding on for dear life as you lowered yourself to the floor. You were thankful for the warm, fluffy slippers that hugged your cold feet as you began to shuffle forward. Just seeing the face of one of your classmates would be enough, you told yourself while pushing through the pain, the door inching closer and closer. 

It seemed unnaturally quiet as you opened the door, peeking your head out into the corridor, you’d expected far more doctors and orderlies, maybe even patients, but it was silent. It felt too eerie, sending a slight shiver down your spine.

You shuffled forward tentatively, fully emerging from your room. Unsure of which direction to go, you eyed the door closest to you. As you edged closer, you noticed the door was open ever so slightly. The first thing you noticed was the mop of green hair spread across the pillow.

“Izuku,” you said softly, placing a hand flat against the door.

You gently pushed against the door, opening it enough to notice a second figure in the room with him. They were sat at his bedside, hunched over; the only features you could make out from your viewpoint was their heavily bandaged body beneath their light blue hospital gown.

The door groaned when you opened it further, piquing the attention of the second figure. You watched as a tussle of blond hair came into view.

“K-K—“ you stood in shock, the same letter repeating on your tongue.

He placed a hand on the back of the chair to face you, Katsuki’s bright red eyes widened. He moved incredibly swiftly when he pushed himself up, the chair almost toppling with the amount of force he displaced in an attempt to propel himself at you.

 “You’re awake!” he cried, his hands pulling you into his chest, arms wrapping around you tightly.

“You’re alive!” you bawled, throwing your own arms around his broad torso, grabbing at the back of the hospital gown as you fell against him.

Katsuki gently rubbed at your back, holding your trembling body in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, sniffling, rubbing your sodden cheek against his chest, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help.”

He gently shushed you, his hand now stroking the back of your head. Katsuki gently placed his hands around your biceps and held you out at arm’s length; he bent slightly at the torso for his eyes to meet yours.

“I should be the one saying sorry,” he told you, a soft, sad smile played on his lips.

Your eyes glanced over at Izuku, up close, you wondered how he was still alive; his small frame battered from head to toe, his arms bound under thick casts and bandages. You choked back a sob, looking back at Katsuki.

“Kacchan…” you whispered, bringing your hand up to place it on an uninjured cheek.

Gazing into his sad eyes, you watched as they became glassy. You gently stroked your thumb against his cheek, as if to coax out his tears, allowing him to cry. You saw his face twist against his urge to cry but when you looked up at him with your big, sad doe eyes and soft, gentle smile, he felt his walls break.

He grabbed you, grabbed you so hard against him as he heaved against anguished wails; your heart twisted in your chest at his pain.

“If I had only been stronger!” he sobbed, you felt him cling to the fabric of your own gown. “Just a bit faster! If only I—“

You pressed one palm against his back while your other hand found purchase in his hair, gently stroking at his tousled locks.

“Kacchan,” you interrupted him, as gently as you could, “you risked your life.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” he fought back, his voice just as desperate as his hold on you.

“Please, Katsuki,” you told him, adding a sternness to your voice that made him pause.

Begrudgingly, you pushed him away gently, holding him by his bicep to turn him around to face Izuku.

“He’s alive,” you continued. You looked up at him as he rubbed at his wet, red face. “You risked your life for him, and when he wakes up,” you gently lay your head against Katsuki’s arm, “we can be here together.”

bonus drabble:

⇢ the thought of reader making katsuki aware of flower language gives me a kick; i hope you think it’s as cute as i do

 Katsuki looked down at the small bundle of flowers in his hands, they were so delicate in comparison. He was so relieved that you were still alive but, just like Izuku, you were still unconscious. The anger and guilt were so quick to rise to the surface but he told himself that—just this once—he’d sit by your side calmly.

“So, um,” he mumbled and cleared his throat, “you remember telling me about flowers meaning things?”

He took your small hand in his own, he didn’t like how frail you looked, how much your body had endured. He wrinkled his nose.

“I, um,” he groaned, “this is stupid.”

He sat back in his chair and covered his eyes with a large, bandaged forearm. He turned his head to see the vase sat beneath the window. He leaned forward.

“Tell you what,” he said, pushing himself up from the chair with effort. He stifled a wince.

It only took Katsuki three of his wide strides to reach the table. He shrugged his shoulders, grabbing the jug of drinking water.

“It’ll do,” he murmured, filling the vase.

He turned around to make sure he could see you and—had you been awake—you could see him. He frowned and fiddled with the flowers. He gently pulled out two big, beautiful carnations.

“This way, when you wake up,” he began, “maybe you’ll remember what you told me...”

He placed the red flowers, a shade that matched his eyes, in the vase.

“…because my heart certainly is aching.”

He felt his eyes sting when he looked back at you. Katsuki cleared his throat before doing the same with the daisies.

“They’re so delicate,” he whispered, “just like you.”

He felt his cheeks flush, a sweet, tender blush against his skin. 

“And I do, y’know,” he said, now returning to your bedside, “I do love you truly.” 

He sat down, cupping your hand in both of his. He squeezed gently.

“Please,” he fought hard against his sobs, “please, wake up soon.”

He brought your hand to rest on his forehead, he sighed heavily before softly kissing the back of your hand.

“You can do this,” he told you, “I believe in you.”

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (14)

In Which Lila Meets an Eldritch Abomination

Ao3 | FF.net

Lila never came back to class. No one saw her after school, and all messages of “what the heck was that?” to her were ignored. So Plagg was slightly confused when it came to the contract not working. He did worry that she was just gathering her sources for another attack. What was she planning? A lawsuit? It wouldn’t be unlike her. 

“What’s going on?” Marinette asked, as they walked to the bakery. “I thought you fulfilled the last condition?” 

“The powers of destruction come with a small sense of omniscience. I can’t predict the future or even consciously see what’s going on, but I can usually tell when something bad is going to happen, and what it’s going to be.” 

“So what’s up?” 

“Not sure. My powers are drastically weakened while I’m in Adrien’s body. The Miraculous can probably tell something is wrong. My guess is that Lila is plotting revenge.” 

Adrien looked up from Marinette’s purse. “Should we be worried?” 

“You don’t worry about a thing. Guaranteed that she’s out for my blood. I’ll be able to handle whatever she throws at me.” 

“Even if it’s a lawsuit?” Marinette asked. 

“Well...Gabriel can hire a good lawyer. Besides, her mom doesn’t trust her. Why would she enable Lila’s lawsuit?” 

“Maybe not a lawsuit then. But I think she’s going to reach out for help now.” 

“No. I don’t think so. Lila is very much a ‘if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself’ type. I’m sure she’s coming up with something.” 

At this point, they reached the bakery, and Plagg bid them farewell. 

“Are you sure I can stay?” Asked Adrien, sounding far too optimistic. 

“Please. If you were with me, I’d just have to listen to you wax poetic about how much you love Marinette, and how much you miss her, and how badly you want to kiss her.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

Adrien hid his face in her neck, embarrassed. 

“I know him well. I’ll catch you later, Pigtails.” He gave a salute and headed back to the mansion. 

Many things crossed Plagg’s mind, most of which were cheese related. He thought about what he was going to have for dinner. He thought about how Gabriel and Emilie were doing, and if that was being resolved as well as he was hoping. 

But he didn’t expect someone to grab his wrist and yank him into an alleyway. 

His arm was yanked behind his back, and a sharp blade pressed to his throat. 

“Shut up and don’t move.” A female voice commanded. 

Plagg mulled over the sound for a second before asking, “Lila?” 

“I said don’t move!” She shrieked. Her hold on him was tight, but she was trembling. “I’m going to kill you! It’s the only way...” 

“Only way what?” He asked calmly. 

“To pay you back for what you did! You took everything from me! My mom, my job, the class...I have nothing now!” 

“I think you’re being a little dramatic.” 

“I am not!” She howled. The gravel in her voice really accentuated the insanity in her tone. She had clearly snapped. “My kingdom has toppled, and I have to start all over again! Everything was so perfect! I even had you wrapped around my finger...and then you had to go and show your true colors! You’ll pay for this!” 

Plagg very easily twisted out of her hold and away from the knife, but didn’t try to disarm her. She had a pocket knife, with a blade that could still do some damage, despite it being rather small. 

“Okay, that’s enough of this. You’re still in school. Most of your peers don’t even have jobs. Kids have rocky relationships with their parents all the time. All that stuff you ‘lost’? You can get it back, and probably better than ever if you’re genuine and honest.” 

She sneered at him. “That’s all well and good for some people, but I don’t want relationships. I want pure, unwavering dedication. And I had it! Our classmates were willing to do everything for me! But you and Marinette—!” 

“Marinette had nothing to do with this.” 

“I know she did! You didn’t just go from being a pushover to whatever this is for no reason! She put you up to this! She’s turned you on me!” 

Plagg tilted his head up so he could look down at her over his nose. “Is that what you think? That someone as sweet as Marinette is capable of convincing me to play friendly with you to purposely piss you off?” 

Lila’s face fell. “You mean...that was all an act?” 

“Every bit. I hate your guts Lila. I’m glad your so-called kingdom has come crashing down. You didn’t deserve it anyway.” 

She screamed at him and waved the knife in his face. “Give me one good reason not to slice your face right now! That would ruin your life, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t have daddy’s approval with a big ugly scar on your face, would you?” 

Plagg watched the knife passively. “You wouldn’t hurt me. You’re a coward. You wouldn’t get your hands dirty.” 

“Try me!” She shouted, the blade poking his cheek. 

He hummed. “I have to ask myself, ‘what would the real Adrien have done?’ And the answer is probably to grovel and cry...but honestly, I don’t care much for that option.” 

Confusion took over her face. “What do you mean, the real Adrien? You are Adrien.” 

He closed his eyes, and reached up to take off his sunglasses. “Lila, Lila, Lila...Adrien hasn’t inhabited this body in a long, long time.” He opened his eyes, and they resembled Chat Noir’s. Not just with slit pupils, but with acid green sclera too. 

“What...?” She stared at him. 

The paint on the wall next to him started to peel. “I saw what you were doing, and I allowed it, because I don’t care about petty mortal squabbles.” The pavement under their feet cracked, and the cracks grew out and away from him. “But you continued to involve me in your plans, and I don’t like to be manipulated.” 

Totally full of fear and hyped up on adrenaline, Lila punched the knife into Plagg’s shoulder. 

He didn’t even flinch. He just took the blade out and ran a hand over the wound, sealing it. Then he held the knife up in front of her face, letting her watch as the metal melted in his hand. 

She backed away from him, hitting the wall behind her, paint still peeling. “What are you? What the hell are you?! Some kind of demon?!” 

His eyes flashed with a glowing green, and more cracks danced up the side of the building. From deep within the darkness, tiny black tendrils of shadow emerged and made their presence known. From each corner of the alley, from the window sills, from the rooftops, black cats peered around and yowled lowly. The calls filled the space with awful, droning songs. 

“Demon? No.” He chuckled. “Bitch, I’m a god.” 

At this, Lila started crying. She looked frantically from side to side, looking for a way out. A way to escape from this nightmare. “What are you going to do to me?!” She wailed. 

“I haven’t decided yet. Depends on if I want you alive or not. I’m leaning on the not right now.” 

“Oh god!” She dropped on her knees in front of him. “Please forgive me! Please! I’m so sorry!” 

“You’re sorry now, now when it’s too late. And only for your own sake. Selfish witch.” 

“Please don’t kill me! I’ll make it up to you! I’ll...I’ll do whatever you want! You know I can be very convincing! I’ll serve you and do whatever you want! Get you whatever you need!” 

He laughed. “With what? Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m Adrien Agreste, one of the most famous people in Paris, if not all of France. And you have no credit anywhere. That’s why you pulled a knife on me, remember?” 

She was on her hands and knees. “Please? Please just give me some time!” 

“One week.” He smirked. 

She looked at him with hope. 

“One week, to run and hide, and then I’m coming after you. If you leave Paris, you’ll probably be safe. But if I ever see you again. You’re dead.” 

She looked like a ghost, she had gone so white. She just stared with the biggest eyes as the shadows started to disappear.

“Get along now, dear. You’ve got some packing to do.” He stepped aside, and gestured to the alley’s opening for her. 

Lila staggered to her feet and took off running, and he could hear her sobbing all the while. 

The ring finally, blessedly beeped. One minute to get home before they switched back. 

Oh god, only one minute! 

He too ran out of the alleyway, much less frantic. 

—

About an hour later, Adrien awoke on a hard floor. Last he remembered, he was with Marinette, watching a movie while laying in her chest. He must have fallen asleep, but why was he on the floor? 

He blinked awake, seeing the lobby of the mansion. He was lying on the cold marble floor. 

And Plagg was sitting in front of him, in his Kwami body, and eating some Camembert. 

“Wakey wakey Sleeping Beauty!” He sang. 

“Plagg!” Adrien shot up. “You’re you! And I’m—“ he held out his hands and looked at his fingers. “I’m me! Look! I have fingers! And toes!” As he stretched, he pulled the muscle in his shoulder and curled in. “Ow! What the heck is wrong with my shoulder?” 

“Oh sorry, Lila stabbed you.” 

“She what?! Oh my god do I need to go to the hospital?!” 

“Eh, probably not. I’m not a healer like Tikki, but I can cauterize the wound at least. So you won’t get infected or bleed to death. Maybe see a doctor if it keeps hurting in a month.” 

“Wow, great. Thanks,” he couldn’t help but laugh. “What did you do? Why did she stab you—me?” 

“I don’t know. Mad about outing herself I guess. I scared her into thinking your body is possessed by an eldritch god. Which was true about an hour ago. And sorry, by the way, the transfer is always so much harder on you than me.” 

“No apologies necessary, buddy! You’re a lifesaver!” He grabbed the little creature and pressed a dozen kisses to his bulbous head. 

“Ew! Gross! Stop! Stop!” Plagg giggled. Then he shouted, “Alright! ENOUGH!” and tore away from Adrien. “Geez, smother me, why don’t ya?” 

“Sorry, I just…you really fixed everything.” 

“For the most part.” Plagg added. “Relationships take cultivation to reap the benefits from.”

���What, now you’re onto farm analogies?”

“FARM WISDOM!” Plagg sang. “But yes, essentially. You and Marinette have a great beginning. Just keep communicating, and encourage her to be honest and open with you. You and your father need some serious help. I’m glad he confessed about the whole Hawkmoth thing, but you both need to get some serious therapy. Once he comes back with your mom, I hope things will be better.”

“I know they will be. Mom was really good about making sure we communicated. And dad was a happier person when she was around.”

Plagg nodded, knowingly. “But you should still put in effort, as you have been doing. It won’t work if you just assume things are going to be better because your mom is back.”

“Oh, I see.” 

“And finally, Lila. I’m pretty sure she’s out of the picture now. However, there will be more Lila’s in the future. You’re a celebrity, and there will always be people that will try to take advantage of you. You can be nice, but don’t put up with it.”

“Should I annoy them with my extensive knowledge of Skyrim?”

“Save that as a last resort.” 

“Will you help me?” 

Plagg screwed up his face as he went back to his wheel of cheese. “My help comes in two forms; vague analogies and full body possession.” 

“Guess I’ll have to get better at understanding analogies, huh?”

The kwami smiled, then added. “But you don’t have to come just to me for help. You have a pretty extensive support network now. You can talk to Nino, Marinette, your parents…you’re not on your own anymore, kid.” 

Adrien sat up a little straighter at that. “Wow…you’re right! I have so many people I can confide in now! This is great!” 

“And just maybe…you should check in on Marinette? Once we transferred back, I woke up in her room and left without a word. She’s probably worried.” 

“Noted! Plagg, claws out!” 

“I just got out of your stinky body~!” He shouted as he was absorbed into the ring. 

Adrien started running. He knew his end goal was the bakery, but for now, he was just excited to be in his own skin again. He could eat whatever he wanted! He didn’t need to stay cramped in a bag all day! He could shower! 

And HE COULD KISS MARINETTE! 

Why the hell was he wasting time!? 

He turned about and rushed to the bakery, making a dizzying amount of leaps and turns. Then he collided with her balcony, his landings being a little rusty. 

“Plagg?” Marinette asked, as she opened the door. “What’s going on? Why did Adrien leave so suddenly? Hey—you’ve got your normal suit on!” 

In a pounce, he was on her, lifting her out of the window by the waist and up into his arms. “Oh My Lady…” He whispered. 

“Adrien?”

He smashed his lips to hers, tired of waiting. Tired of holding back his affections. Tired of not physically being with her. He kissed her face, her cheeks, her chin, any swath of skin he could find. It wasn’t good kissing, by any means, but it was her, them, together. 

“Adrien!” She giggled. “Calm down!”

“No!” Kiss. “I’m too—“ Kiss. “—Excited to—“ Kiss. “—Stop!” 

She let him kiss her silly, until he was huffing and puffing. 

“Are you good?”

“For a few minutes, I think.” 

“Then can you put me down?” She chuckled. He was still holding her by the waist, and she was dangling through the skylight. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, my love.” He let her down into her room, onto her bed, and then released his transformation. 

“Blegh!” Plagg gagged. “I purposefully avoided kissing her while I was in your body, and you STILL made me experience it! Betrayal!” 

“Oh calm down, Plagg. I’m sure it won’t be the last time.” 

Plagg groaned anyway and zipped off to find Tikki. 

“Would you like to come in?”

“Please!” He slid in through the window and tackled her down into the mattress, cuddling up to her chest. “It was nice laying on you when I was two inches tall, but this is way better.” He squeezed her waist and kissed her collarbone. 

“So what happened? You and I were watching a movie, and then you just got up and left without a word!”

“That was Plagg! Last I knew, I was on your chest still. Apparently, he scared Lila right out of Paris and then made a mad dash for home. He made it to the lobby before he collapsed.” 

“He scared her out of Paris?” 

“That’s what he said.” 

She raked her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching along his scalp. He immediately melted into her and started purring. “Ohhh yes, my lady. I could get used to this.” 

“It was nice having you with me all the time, but I still missed you. It wasn’t the same talking to Plagg’s body. I love you, after all. All of you.”

“I love you too, My Lady.” 

She stopped petting him for a minute. “You’re not going to keep wearing terrible outfits, are you?”

“God no.” 

—

The next day, Adrien was brought to school by car. He wore a white shirt, black t-shirt, jeans, and his orange sneakers…and no sunglasses. Upon exiting the car, he spotted his friends talking. 

“NINOOOOOOOO!!!” He shouted as he sprinted. 

Nino only had seconds to brace himself before Adrien launched himself into his arms, wrapping his legs around his waist. “I missed you!”

“Dude you’re back!?”

“In the flesh!” He got down. “Thank you, by the way, for everything you did.” 

“It was nothing! Anything for my dawg,” and he added with a whisper, “and little dude.” 

Plagg peered out and gave him a wink. 

Marinette spoke up. “Why don’t I get a morning greeting like that?”

He kissed her sweetly. “Next time I see you, I’ll leap on you like a majestic monkey.” 

Alya squealed. “Is it official then?! I knew I saw you guys making goo-goo eyes at each other! But every time I mentioned it, Marinette said it was nothing!” 

“Yes Alya, we’re officially dating now.” Marinette wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his chest. In return, he rubbed her shoulders and leaned his head against hers. Now that she had gotten a taste of being close to him, she never wanted it to stop. Even if it was obnoxious to everyone around her, she was home. 

“Hey, has Lila been talking to anybody since yesterday?” Alya winced. “I mean, that whole thing was totally bonkers. I just wanted to get some answers.” 

“Yeah, no. She’s super gone. She stabbed me, so she left Paris.” 

The collective paling of faces made him realize he left out some details. 

“SHE WHAT!?” 

“I got better.”

--

This is officially the end! Thank you for reading!!

[beauvibaby]

little family - t.seguin

a/n: the inspo for this was me having a very bad week at work haha

Nearly two month old Laila was finally started to calm down as she laid on your chest, Chase, your two your old was grumpily playing with his toys, claiming he wasn’t speaking to you because you were “mean” to him. His version of mean was you putting him in time out for coloring on the wall. You couldn’t help but let out an exasperated sigh as Chase stood walking over to you, “mommy?” He spoke sweetly, you hummed in response, carefully sitting up, trying not to wake Laila. “Snack?” He asked, giving you those big eyes, he looked so much like Tyler in that moment, brown eyes staring at you with happiness swimming in them. You let out a soft chuckle, “yeah, honey, you can have a snack.” You mumbled, carefully standing up, cradling his sister to your chest. She stirred, soon beginning to wail as you rushed to give your son his snack, settling for some goldfish crackers as it wasn’t too long until Tyler would be home and you’d be making dinner. “No!” Chase shouted, you looked down at him with raised eyebrows as you started rocking Laila. “No!” He shouted again, throwing the open packet on the ground, “Chase, pick those up right now.” You demanded, glancing at Laila who was turning red and you knew she was about to spit up. Right as you went to move her, she spit up all over the floor, it landing by Chase who started crying at the sudden appearance of it. He went to run off because he knew he was in trouble for throwing his food but his foot caught the spit up and he slipped, landing on his butt with a thud and the screams doubled.

At the sudden screaming the dogs came running over, finally choosing to check if everything was ok. “Marshall!” You gasped when he started licking up the food, “no, no, Gerry!” You snapped, visually gagging when he liked up Laila’s spit up. You scooped Chase up, grimacing as his foot covered in spit up wiped all over your shirt, Laila was still whining, desperately searching for her pacifier. “Chase, you’re fine bud.” You hated that you had to pick which child to comfort, but he was not really crying from the fall, more for attention. You set him down, watching as he wrapped himself around your leg, clinging to you, repeatedly shouting mommy, only breaking your heart further as you lugged him along on your leg, gasping in relief when you found the pacifier, popping it in Laila’s mouth. She finally calmed down, still squirming but the crying had stopped, Chase was still dramatically sobbing, your head shot over to the door when you heard it opening. “Oh thank god.” You whispered, barely hearing yourself over the crying boy. “Look, daddy’s home!” You cheered down to your son, “no, mommy!” He shrieked like you had just told him he was getting a punishment. Tyler raised his eyebrows at the sight in front of him, “hey, buddy.” He kneeled, holding his arms out for his son, who only gripped you tighter. “Tyler, can you just take her please?” You mumbled, giving him a silently begging look. “Yeah.” He sighed, pushing away the heartache of his son not even wanting to say hello, but he knew it wasn’t personal, after all Chase was in the middle of a temper tantrum. “Hi, my little-oh god, stinky princess.” Tyler mumbled taking Laila, grimacing as you both suddenly smelt her soiled diaper. You smirked, “she’s just saying how much she loves you.” You gave him a quick peck before squatting down to your sons eye level as Tyler whisked off with Laila, cooing to her about how much he missed her today.

“Look at me.” You demanded softly, placing a hand on your sons back, he looked up at you with a huge pout and tear stained face, you reached out and cupped his chubby little cheeks. You pushed your insecurities aside from letting him cry for so long, it was part of having two little kids, but it didn’t make you hurt any less. “We don’t throw food, and we don’t color on walls.” You spoke soft, but stern, he nodded still in your hold. “Are you sorry?” You asked, removing your hands, he nearly knocked you over, “I sorry.” He mumbled hugging you tightly. You smiled at his actions, kissing the top of his curly mop of hair. “You know, I think it would make daddy very happy if you went over there and gave him an even bigger hug and a kiss. He missed you today.” You spoke sweetly, Chase looked up at you with a grin, running off towards where Tyler was with Laila, Tyler was on his way back, Laila only covered in a diaper. “That was a huge blowout.” He laughed, letting out an over dramatic groan when Chase ran into his legs, you took Laila back from him, watching with a quivering lip as Chase was lifted happily up into Tyler’s arms. You watched your son wrap his arms around Tyler’s neck tightly, hugging him before leaning back and giving him a cute little kiss. Tyler enjoyed every second, it was no secret Chase was a mommas boy. “Did you have a good day?” He asked his son, but glanced over to you, doing a double take when he saw the tears pooling in your eyes. He went to speak but you shook your head, “I’m gonna go get her some clothes.” You whispered, walking past him before Chase could see you begin to cry.

You slipped Laila into a simple onesie, constantly wiping your tears as you admired the little girl before you, you loved your kids, with every ounce of your body, and always would. You’d do anything for them, and everything for them, and with that being said, you did, and you were tired. So damn tired, and you didn’t blame Tyler at all, because when he was home he was just as hands on as you were, he was never one of those dads you had to ask twice to do something, he just did it. It was hard still, most days were good, but Laila was an easy crier, so different from how Chase was as a baby, and today was a bad day, you’d been up since before Tyler had even left, Chase coming in to your room not feeling good, Laila waking early and eating in clusters all day, Chase being on his worse behavior. It just got to you today, and it made you feel worse that it got to you. It shouldn’t, you’re their mother, you shouldn’t feel so burdened, you wanted them, you prayed for them your whole life and they were here and they were perfect. A knock on the door made your head shoot up, you were sitting on the edge of the bed, Laila laying beside you, peacefully looking around. You saw Tyler standing in the doorway, arms crossed as he looked at you softly well Chase ran over to you, he had a note in his hand and skillfully climbed into your lap, he put the note down and gave you his pouty lips, not the sad ones but the ones he made when he wanted a kiss, you smiled tearfully and gave him a kiss, your heart bursting with love as he wiped the tears off your cheeks before running back over to Tyler silently. He gave you a smile as he usher Chase out, shuttling the door as they left. You opened the note, sniffling as you read Tyler’s slightly sloppy handwriting,

“don’t come downstairs until we get you!”

You rolled your eyes, not hesitating to oblige, you placed the note into the drawer of your nightstand, carefully moving to lay beside your sweet little girl. “Hi.” You whispered, grabbing her little fist when she looked at you, gurgling softly, “we’re really lucky you know, you’re daddy’s great, and your brother is gonna protect you so much when you’re bigger.” You laughed softly to yourself as you thought about the future, “don’t worry, I’ll make sure they let the good guys get to you.” You teased softly, smiling as your emotions leveled out a little, sometimes you just need a good cry. You grinned down at her blank expression, lightly tickling her stomach, her lips cracked up a little and you gasped, stopping your movements, did she just smile? You did it again, and she smiled, a real toothless smile and you cheered jumping to your feet. You wanted Tyler to see it, but you didn’t want to ruin whatever little plan he had Chase all excited about, so you pulled out your phone and FaceTimed him, he answered, holding the phone extremely close to his face, not letting you see anything. “Yes?” He sang, “she’s smiling!” You shrieked, pointing the camera to her, you did your earlier actions, her face lighting up again. “Oh my god!” He grinned, his eyes lighting up, “that’s my baby girl!” He cheered, speaking to her through the phone, she continued smiling, and you knew instantly, she would be a smiley baby now. “When can I come down?” You asked with a laugh, turning the phone back towards you, he quirked a brow. “Let me confirm with my assistant.” He joked, pausing the video you laughed, scooping Laila up as you heard two sets of footsteps running up the stairs. Really it was more of Tyler’s and Chase lightly padding before him, you hung up the phone, slipping it back into your pocket.

The bedroom door opened and your two boys smiled at you, “mommy!” Chase ran over to you, Tyler follows slowly behind him, holding his hands out for Laila, he took her but not before pressing a short but sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He whispered, laughing when Chase started pulling your hand, “I love you.” You repeated to him before allowing your son to pull you along. “What did you two do?” You teased, Chase kept his eyes focused on the stairs, something he was getting better at walking down. “Patience.” Tyler scolded, walking right behind you. He laughed under his breath when you glared jokingly at him. “Oh my goodness,” you gasped, looking down at Chase who was looking at the living room proudly, they cleaned up the toys, and laid out pillows and blankets all over the floor, against the couch. Of course, yours and Chase’s favorite Disney movie was set up on the screen, Moana. You lifted your son up into your arms, he giggled as you smothered him in kisses. “Mommy, stop!” He shrieked, pushing at your face, his face turning bright red from laughter. “Alright, alright, I have to cook dinner.” You mumbled, stopping long enough for Chase to catch his breath. “Oh no you don’t, we’re having a junk night.” Tyler laughed, wrapping his free arm around you, “I ordered Chinese.” He mumbled, you sighed in relief. “Thank god.” You whispered leaning into his hold slightly. “Aw, honey.” You cooed to Laila, it was time for her to eat and she was letting you know as she went from peaceful to wailing in about half a second. You lowered Chase down and he happily cuddled himself up into the pile of blankets looking at you and Tyler cheesily. “By the time she’s done dinner will be here.” Tyler sighed, handing her over, “thank you.” You responded, he shook his head, looking over when the doorbell rang and the dogs hopped up. “Don’t thank me.” He laughed, pushing you off to the living room as he went to get the food, you sat in the chair, propping her and your arm up on a pillow as Chase paid no mind to you feeding her, he was used to it, never even asked any questions about it, which surely surprised you and Tyler.

Dinner has since come and gone, the credits to Moana playing on the screen as Chase slept on the floor in front of you, Laila was sleeping on Tyler’s chest, you had your head on the part of his chest she wasn’t taking up. “Y/N?” Tyler whispered, fingers running up your arm as spoke, “yeah?” You lifted your head, hearing the concern in his voice. “Are you okay? Really? I know it’s hard, baby, and I wish I was here more.” He spoke softly, you smiled softly, he was searching your eyes for anything, he needed an answer, he needed to know what he could do to help you. “Ty,” you mumbled, placing a hand on his face, his beard slightly tickling the palm of your hand. “It was just one bad day, you know I’d tell you if it was anything more.” You assured him, he was so attentive, he never wanted to make you feel like you had to do it all, you were equal partners in this life. “You’re a great mom, you know that?” He questioned, looking at you expectantly. “I know, and you’re a great dad, now can we please get them to bed, I just need to shower and sleep.” You teased softly, carefully standing to your feet, he laughed but agreed, following your actions, somehow you picked Chase up, carrying him up to his room, placing a kiss to his forehead once you set him down. “Goodnight sweet boy.” You whispered, tucking his blanket up over him, quietly shutting the door and walking down the hall to where Tyler was in your room, placing Laila down in her bassinet. “Come here.” You mumbled, standing in the middle of the room, he walked over to you, smiling down at your childlike expression. “I,” you paused, kissing him, “love,” another one, “you.” One long kiss, and he pulled away a little surprised, but grinning like someone just told him it was Christmas. “I love you too, so much.” He sighed, kissing your forehead softly, “hopefully they’re better tomorrow, but how about that shower?” He teased, hands sliding lower down your back. “No funny business, we don’t need another one yet.” You chastised, he put his hands up in surrender, but smirking when you walked away with a little extra sway in your hips. “Hurry up before I change my mind!” ��What? No-I’m coming.” He tripped over his pants as he kicked them off following you, he laughed along with you when you were stood in the bathroom watching him with a grin. When he stepped into the shower with you, truly being nothing but sweet, showering you with kisses and whispers of sweet nothings, you knew that you would go through a hundred bad days if it meant you still had a great night like this with your little family.

Taglist: @thathockeygirl @literarycharleton

[brahkest-fr]

CW: trauma, maggot/worm imagery, blood, general violence | Titan n Chimera have a moment

Titan rushed down the hall, long tail flailing mercilessly behind him, tripping cursing guards as he sprinted through ancient corridors that reeked with the stench of dust and mold. Another tundra stood at the end of the dungeon, old eyes cold and weary, not at all surprised at the other’s sudden appearance. He crossed his arms as Titan approached apprehensively. He didn’t meet his gaze but the elder bore through him with a fire that could raise the dead.

“Let me see her,” Titan demanded, rare harshness in his voice.

The other tundra squinted. “Be my guest. She will be dealt with by the morning,” he spat and pushed past him, frail old shoulder barely nudging Titan’s massive frame but the sentiment was there. “I told you something like this would happen.”

He waited until the other left before gingerly opening the wooden cell door, its creaking overwhelming the deep, pained breaths from within. His jaw slacked as he gazed over the hunched form of Chimera, kneeling on bare stone, arms folded behind her and chained to the wall. She peered upwards, head heavy and swaying. Her vision was blurry but made out Titan’s broad shoulders, haloed in the dusty light of the door frame. Angelic. She thought she was dying.

Titan conversely became aware of the dull, raspy sound of Chimera’s wheezing and the utter nothing coming from his own throat. Knees buckling, Titan faltered to the floor, hand grasping at the stone as he crawled towards her in a silent frenzy, hesitantly cupping his dear friend’s face with soft paws, head pressed to hers. Her breath quivered, recognizing the gentle touch and glimmering fur that encased her trembling form in a warmth that seemed foreign and unbelievable. He smelled like spices and sun, strong on her dull senses that have been subjected to the stale, putrid jail cell. She mouthed something weakly, spittle dribbling down her chin. He wiped it away, running his hands gently down her shoulders.

She shuddered, gray and melting in the dark of his shadow.

Chimera always saw beauty in bruises. Never was anyone more moved by the blossom of welts and the flush of cut flesh. He briefly wondered if she would have thought the way she appeared now, broken and stiff, was pretty.

She would. Even this dark place - she would.

“I’m so sorry Chimera...I should have stopped you sooner. I should have been with you before-” he gasped as he nuzzled her forehead, ignoring the blood oozing from her cuts.

Should. Should. Should. He always should have something.

“Titan,” she hissed, “It’s not your fault.”

He felt her cool blood seep into his fur, a jarring sick wetness.

He lowered himself, peering into her sickly yellow eyes that struggled to flutter open. They were pussy, glassy - tired. He ran the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away thin tears she didn’t realize had fallen. He kissed the wedge of her snout, nauseated by the coldness of her skin, the stillness of her body other than minute flinches. He wrapped his plush tail around her, fur coated in the filth of her blood and sweat. She collapsed into his body, for what little slack the chains gave her. Pressing gentle fingers to the base of her spines, he massaged her neck, earning an exasperated choke from her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked in the smallest voice he could muster.

Chimera’s eyes widened, manic and fearful though her body remained defeated and limp. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “The same. Always the same...” she sobbed.

He constricted her body, desperate to hold her pieces in place. “Where are you?”

Chimera grit her teeth, “It’s all red. All red and flesh and fog. She’s watching me again. But her hands are around me... I can feel her nails-” she heaved into a wailing bob back and forth, Titan pressing her to his chest.

It was routine for him, holding her, talking her through her delusions. It was the same story each time but progressively getting worse, an assault he couldn’t stop. A nightmare he couldn’t end. At first he thought Chimera simply had many peculiar fears here and there, bad dreams and the like as everyone does. But when her tough facade melted away into pure terror, screaming into the morning because she thought the hand reaching from her throat was real, Titan couldn’t pretend it was nothing. He wished it was nothing.

He loathed to be helpless when he shook her awake, failing to convince her she was safe. How the paralysis of sleep and fear would take her - how his very touch would send shock waves up her spine and out her maw as whines for help. How he was a sailor lost in the midst of her storms, throwing him wave after wave into her darkness. Drowning always inevitable. But the sun would rise and she would be there, resting on the railing of their sinking ship. She’d be pale in his nightmares. Dead. But he would hold her, tell her she was really alive and really there with him. The dark would come and swallow them whole. A story he knew the end to. He’d wake up and in a mad scramble would find Chimera sleeping restlessly in the guest room, tangled in ripped sheets. He’d breathe and slide down the door frame. Content. A moment of relief betrayed by continued suffering.

Titan was her rock though crumbling.

In all their years together, she could only cope with his hands stroking the whole of her back as the terrors would keep her up at night and plague her throughout the day with visions she couldn’t understand nor ones he could ease away. Chimera was always her strongest out in the city where she put on a brave face that day after day cracked slowly, along fault lines that he knew too well - the pinches to her forehead, the distant look in her eyes, the smile that was painfully fake. She tried her best to avoid being a burden though Titan would never consider her as such. It was hard to convince her that this nightmare was his own as well, something he chose to participate in, something he wanted to help heal. She’d look at him like a bug to flick away but like a tick he stuck to her side, sharing in the cursed blood. The gods awful nights and tortured days. The unholy body in alien skin.

Often Titan’s thoughts looped back to Sorrow, the vile witch they visited years ago for some semblance of an answer. It was said she knew everything. Foolish of them to think they would get a straight answer from a creature who delighted in the plights of dragons. The snowy, angelic imperial whose divine body was draped in silk and stars smugly sneered, a soft hand trailing down her own neck to chest, indulging in the deliciousness of their desperation.

“The gods certainly like to choose their favorites, don’t they? How cruel of them,” she laughed sweetly, predatory evil behind cold alabaster eyes.

It was hardly an answer but answer enough. Chimera was a victim of divinity, an ant under a magnifying glass. But what solution they could muster would elude them.

It would break them.

And now sits Chimera, kneeling under a shadow of death, oblivious to the world around her except the all consuming thoughts worming holes in her mind since childhood. Squirming like maggots in a wound, hungry to burrow and fester, their chafing claws scratched at her ears, throbbing rustling heartbeats haunted her sleep and peeled away her resolve. She’d pick at them like dead skin, indulging in habits that would only give her seconds of relief. A fight here. A fight there. Hours of physical training. Her mood was always electric and frenzied, focused on the next thing that would distract her. The worms hollowed the space just under her skin, slithering like plump veins in sickening patterns only she could see. Scratching. Wriggling. Squirming.

Titan often had his aristocratic duties and she knew that’d she’d have to cope alone, avoided by neighboring dragons too fearful or annoyed at the ridgeback who stalked the streets with a fervor that danced on the edge of violence. She suffered in silence, other than her wails that verbalized at the cusp of dawn in the arms of her friend who forced her to share his home, worried what such terrors would make her do. What they did make her do.

-

The grand library was dead silent. Dark. Titan's feet froze on the cold marble floor that could not be a more obvious sign to leave. She’s gone, he thought briefly - unwillingly - and shook his head. No. No. He can help her. She’s here and he’ll help her.

He found her deep in the basement of the library, surrounded by books meant to be locked up now lay open faced, ghostly runes visibly tearing themselves from the pages. Screaming wails from nowhere bounced off the walls as Chimera sat in the middle of a magic circle, muttering a language not even the Shade knew, lost in thought. Possessed. He yelled to her, held back by an invisible force of her own creation and she turned, face wet and screaming, desperate to end her torment. While an ancient tongue left her lips, she mouthed, help me.

Please.

Titan, filled with a fury and desperation that puppeteered his movements, tore through the magic barrier with a feral violence masked by the ghostly paleness of his face: a visible trace of doubt should he fail.

Why couldn’t he be here sooner.

He pulled her away from the cursed tomes but not without a fight as she flailed, child-like and dangerous, claws narrowly digging into the scruff of his throat. In this effort he forgot how strong she truly was, tangling themselves in a heap of limbs. In a last attempt to summon some gods’ forsaken horror, Chimera flew to a book, screeching its words like a siren until Titan grabbed her by face, tearing her away along with a vibrant strip of flesh from chin to eyebrow. Reeling back in pain and blinded by blood, she collapsed, pooled in sweat and sobs as she held her cheek, crying for it all to end, for the maggots in her brain to cease their chatter. Her back arched and she tore at her scales as if covered in ants, rolling along the cool floor to disperse the heat in her muscles. Titan loomed over her, hands unsure what to hold, how to touch. It was a piercing self awareness of his vulnerability in that moment. He heard yelling from above, likely guards posted outside. Chimera kept screaming, scratching, panting, crying. He shakily stared at his paws, fur now sticky with sweat and blood and grime. He wiped his hands in frantic motions, desperate to clean himself of the viscera he drew but it only smeared and matted his fur in pungent red. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong. He didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t know what to do.

-

He was beside her again now, no more confident than before but he could hide that, for now. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as she wailed, biting into his flesh, drawing crimson over his sunset fur. The pain was dull and fleeting while his thoughts were scattered and distant in the love he wished was enough. Her ribs cracked as she heaved in coughing fits, delicate and ready to burst. He wanted the floor to fall away, enveloping them in a comforting darkness - a place of attractive nothingness. He wished for a lot of things in that moment.

His tailed tightened, python-tight and unwillingly to let go. The torn flesh cutting across her eye festered, swollen and red. He forced himself to keep from turning away. You did that. Her sobs slowed and she was coming back to the present, away from the pit of worms who for now would slumber, buried deep under her skin, ghosts pricking their nails in anticipation against her bones. He stared at the chains bolted to the wall. Brittle.

“Chimera?”

She hung her head. Resigned.

“I want you to run.”

[i-write-you-songs]

Caged

chapter five

THE WARNING ⚠️

Shock torture, rape mention, yelling, cussing, beating, starvation, dehydration, forced eating, arachnophobia, spiders, crying, puking, panic attack, muzzled Remus, blood (if I’m missing any please please please tell me I don’t want you to have a bad day)

(@imma-potatoo)

Enjoy🙃

“What do you think he’s doing to them?!” Roman yelled, pacing the cage.

Logan held Thomas’s head in his lap, trying to ignore the painful cramping in his stomach. Although Logan was extremely concerned for Thomas’s health.

Thomas was a human, not a side. He could die from starvation in a few days if he doesn’t get food and he must be dehydrated, since he only got one cup of water two days ago. Thomas’s face was pale and he wrapped his arms around his stomach.

“Will he feed us soon?” Thomas asked quietly. Nobody answered his question and he let out a whimper and curled into a ball. Logan just hugged him and sighed.

Roman paced until he door opened, making him run to the bars and peer through.

Roman felt nauseous when Virgil pushed Janus in, with how skinny he was. His scarred skin stretched across the weak bones and he seemed covered in a white substance Roman didn’t want to focus on. What disturbed him was the fact he was half naked, his eyes dull and tears still streaming down his face.

Remus followed closely behind him, a muzzle on his face. Virgil pushed Janus in and the side crumpled to the floor, crawling towards the corner to curl into a ball and hide his face.

Virgil pulled the muzzle off of Remus’s head and pushed him in, quickly slamming the door shut behind him and locking it before leaving.

“Did...” Logan looked at Remus for answers. Remus nodded and a sob escaped his throat as he sat next to Janus.

“He- he did. In front of me.” Remus’s voice broke off and he gently grabbed a hold of Janus’s hand. Patton slapped a hand over his mouth as he convulsed, bile threatening to spill out of his mouth. Logan flinched and slumped against the wall, rubbing his eyes. Thomas’s eyes flicked to the two but he didn’t have the energy to say anything. Roman walked over and sat next to Remus, trusting that Janus wouldn’t attack him. He pressed himself against Remus, silence lingering between the six before Patton sighed and stood up.

“We can’t just sit here and sulk the entire time! We have to find a way out of here!” He said, glaring at the cell door. “I can try and unlock it.” He said, searching through his pockets to find nothing.

“Can you guys summon anything?” Patton asked, looking at the creativitwins.

“We’ve been here 16 days, Patton. We’ve already tried we can’t.” Roman mumbled, looking up at the fatherly side.

“Thomas is dying. If he dies, we die and I don’t think Virgil has thought this through. We only have a few days.” Logan said, looking at them all.

The others just sighed. Remus had his arms wrapped around Janus, who had already fallen asleep. Roman and Remus leaned against eachother while Logan and Patton leaned against the wall. Thomas was already drifting off when they decided to go to sleep.

Maybe they could think of something tomorrow.

————

Logan jumped when the door opened and Virgil walked in, the poker in his hands as he walked towards the door. Virgil sighed when he saw how dirty the other sides were and shot Logan a confused glance when he spotted Thomas.

“Janus! Get up let’s go.” Virgil said, unlocking the door but not opening it. Remus glared at him but allowed Janus to stand and walk towards Virgil, who opened the door and let him out before shutting the door again and locking it. Just as he turned to leave, Logan stopped him.

“Your killing Thomas, Virgil. He hadn’t had food in 17 days and 36 minutes. He’s human, remember? He needs food and water to survive!” Logan yelled, running his fingers through Thomas’s hair. Thomas patted Logan leg softly.

“I’m okay, Logan. You guys need food too.” He said quietly, his voice breaking and he winced in pain.

Virgil just shrugged and pulled Janus towards the door.

“Find out a way yourself. Janus did, and he’s perfectly fine!” Virgil smirked as he left, leaving a starving Thomas and a very scared Logan.

Remus watched Janus leave with pain in his eyes and he slammed his fist against the wall. Patton jumped at the noise but didn’t get mad at him.

Thomas’s breath was shallow and he tried to focus on Logan but the world spun around him every time he moved. The pain in his stomach wouldn’t stop and he let out a low groan of pain.

Logan was quick to hush him and try and comfort him, trying to get Thomas to focus on his voice but his eyes were distant.

Logan seemed surprise when Virgil came back a few minutes later, holding Janus’s arm and pushed him into the cell.

Parts of Janus’s arms were a deep red and one part was even a blackish color.

“Did they burn your arms?!” Remus ran forwards to him but Virgil entered the cage and yanked him back.

Virgil looked at everyone in the cell before his eyes rested on Thomas, a smirk coming to his lips.

“I’ll take Tommy next.” He stepped forward to grab his host but Roman jumped in front of him and the weaker side tried his best to push Virgil away from Thomas but Virgil just shocked Roman and continued walking towards Thomas.

“Don’t hurt him!! Are you some sort of idiot you could kill us!” Logan yelled, standing in front of Thomas. Thomas lifted his head, wincing before pulling himself to a sitting position with a hard struggle. He finally sat up, gasping for air.

Virgil watched the whole thing in amusement.

“He’ll be fine. I might even give him food after, if he’s a good boy. And to make it even more fun I’ll do whatever I’m doing to him in front of you because you obviously care about him so much!” Virgil looked excited at the idea and Logan’s face flashed with fear.

Thomas let out a noise of fear as Virgil pushed past Logan and grabbed the front of Thomas’s shirt. When Logan reached forward to get Thomas, Virgil kicked him away and dragged Thomas out of the cage and locked it behind him.

Thomas lay in the middle of the floor on his hands and knees, eyeing Virgil closely. The world still spun but he still tried to keep his eye on Virgil.

Virgil held the poker close to Thomas’s face, a deep scowl on Virgils lips.

“If only you’d listened to me more.” Virgil thrust the poker forward and Logan had to cover his ears in an attempt to block out the scream of pain that left his Hosts throat.

“I told you not to trust the dark sides! Now look where it got you!” With every other syllable Virgil pressed the poker to somewhere on Thomas’s body, shocking his host. Thomas don’t have time to catch his breath before the next shock came, stabbing sharp hot needles into every nerve in his body. His scream broke of by the sixth one.

“You’re so fucking stupid! All you had to do was say you wanted to leave, to say that the dark sides should stay here forever! They don’t fucking help you, Thomas!” Virgil started beating him with the electric stick, each time it swung down it sent bolts of electricity throughout Thomas. Thomas tried to curl in on himself to try and protect himself but he couldn’t move.

Virgil eventually resorted to punching and kicking, beating the man until he was blue.

Once Virgil was done, his spit on him, his face twisted in disgust. Thomas felt as if he was breathing through a crumpled straw and let out a low keen of pain and tried to watch Virgil through his black eyes.

“And there’s so much worse I could do to you, Tommy. I could make you scream for me to stop. Scream my name, even. I could break you forever. You’ll never want to marry anybody when I’m done with you.” Virgil said quietly, trailing his finger down Thomas’s bruised jaw line.

“Don’t you dare!” Roman yelled, glaring at Virgil through the bars.

Virgil looked over his shoulder at Roman before shrugging and standing up, going over to the desk on the right and snatching a few carrots covered in... covered in hundreds of adult and baby spiders. Patton cried out in fear as Virgil made his way over to Thomas as a bunch of spiders crawled all over his hand and the carrot. He crouched next to Thomas, waving the food in front of his face making Thomas’s eyes widen and jerk back. Virgil let out a small coo as he ran his spider covered hand through Thomas’s hair. Thomas let out a high shriek despite his throat being sore and swat at his face as spiders crawled around his head. This made him sob even more and Virgil let out a sigh before opening Thomas’s mouth and shoving the food in his mouth, forcing his mouth shut and holding his nose until the man chewed it and swallowed.

Virgil held Thomas’s mouth shut and hands behind him as he led him back over to the cage, pushing him to the floor inside and shutting the door. The entire way there Thomas squirmed and let out muffled screams.

He heard puking and screaming as he left the room, satisfaction filling him.

Thomas puked up the food, spiders crawling out of the bile and running around the cage.

Thomas continued to sob, trying to swat the spiders out of his hair and head.

He itched at all the spider bites, crying and letting out painful wails of fear as he panicked and continued to throw up.

Even after all the food was out of his stomach he continued to throw up until he was dry heaving, making him panic even more. His breath hitched and he cried out every time he felt something touch his face.

Logan so badly wanted to rush forward to help him but he didn’t know what to do. Thomas had to get the spiders out and he knew Thomas’s brain and body was going to make him throw up even though he has nothing left in his stomach.

“Thomas! Thomas look at me! We can get the spiders out if you stop moving so much!” Logan said, finally running forward and grabbing Thomas’s arms.

Thomas tried to wrestle his arms away, barely getting breaths in before another sob racking his body. It was a struggle for Logan to get him to calm down enough to get all the spiders out and he hushed the sobbing host as he did so, trying to get him to calm down. Thomas gasped in air and mumbled quietly to himself.

Once they were done they lied on the floor, Thomas still crying softly and Logan running his fingers through Thomas’s hair. Thomas was half laying on Logan, his back leaning against Logan’s torso.

After a few minutes Logan was convinced they got all the spiders out of his hair and he wiped blood off of Thomas’s cheek.

“Hey. Hey Thomas can you look at me? Can you hear me?” Logan asked softly, trying to catch Thomas’s gaze.

Thomas nodded slightly and looked up at Logan, visibly trembling and shaking.

“There’s no more spiders, I promise.” Logan told him softly, looking at him with pity in his eyes. Thomas nodded silently before looking back at the wall and curling in on himself.

He had two black eyes and bruises littered his torso and neck. His nose was bleeding along with a cut on his cheek, but he didn’t whine about that.

Patton was on the other side of the cage with Roman, Remus, and Janus. He was also shaking but he wasn’t crying.

The cage was silent for the rest of the night.

[darkmulti]

Purple Panties

Bully!Felix & Hyunjin x female reader

⚠️Warnings: humiliation, degradation, choking, language, slapping, spitting, spanking, dacryphilia, double penetration, anal, threesome, physical abuse, sadism, readers first time, exhibition kink

Part 2

THIS CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL SEX!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

——————————————————————————

“Felix, I-I’m so sorry! I d-didn’t mean to, I swear!”

Y/N stutters out an apology before Felix gets up and forces her to the ground. He slaps her multiple times and even spit on her face. Felix picks her up and wraps his arm around her throat.

“EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS FUCKING WHORE. SHE’S ENJOYING THIS. I BET HER LITTLE CUNTS WET FROM ME SLAPPING HER.”

Everyone laughs at the girl and all she could do is cry. Yes, she had been embarrassed multiple times, but never like this.

He grabs her hair and drags her to the boys washroom, and Hyunjin, her other bully follows behind.

“This is what you wanted huh? More beatings from me?”

Felix slaps the girl and tackles her to the ground. He tightly grips her neck and sits on top of her. Hyunjin had made it to the stall and locked the door.

“Hyunjin look at this slut! She’s already choking under me.”

“Please! No please let me go!”

She pleaded and struggled to breath under the heavy man. Hyunjin takes off his belt and orders Felix to pull her skirt down.

“No no no please! Please don’t do this to me! I swear I will do whatever you want, not this please!”

Felix ignores her and continues to take her skirt off.

“Oh look at this. Our dolls are wearing purple panties. How cute”

He growled out before ripping it apart. He gets off her body and flips her over, then angled her ass up and used his foot to keep her head down against the dirty floor.

She sobs harder when she feels a hard spank land on her soft butt cheeks. Felix took it even further and spread out her ass cheek so her private lips were visible. Hyunjin swings the belt back and spanks her ass as hard and he could. He repeatedly did this until he was satisfied with the marks left behind.

“Please stop! Please I beg you! Don’t please! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to spill my milk on you! Please!”

“Stop fucking talking you cunt. I will tell you when you can talk.”

Felix says in a husky voice. He picks her up and takes her out of the stall in front of the mirror.

“Look at yourself.”

He had one hand on her throat and the other was pulling her hair back. He slightly bent her over the sink, and in anger ripped her blouse open revealing her bra. Hyunjin quickly comes in and rips her bra off and throws it into the hallway. Her tits were now out for anyone to see. The taller male stuffs his fingers down her throat, making her choke, while Felix prepares to let the beast out.

The girl tries to protest, but instead she had a dick thrust into her virgin cunt. She screams and bites down on Hyunjins finger, making him hiss. He takes his fingers out and slaps her across the face while Felix pounds into the dry, bloody cunt.

People walk past the washroom and see the man fucking the life out of the abused girl. Her tits going back and forth as she cried harder and harder, and begs them to stop. She even looks at the passing student with pleading eyes that screamed “help me.”

Blood was streaming down her thighs and Felix took himself out and pushed her into the stall again. Hyunjin enters in, and shoves her against the wall, then lifts the girl up and slammed himself into her. She grabs onto his broad shoulders and cries into his neck. Hyunjin was a lot longer then Felix and stretched her pussy out even more. Her legs dangled helplessly as she screamed louder with each thrust. Her eyes squeeze shut in distress until Hyunjin lowly barks at her,

“Keep those fucking eyes open or else I will cum in them. Look at me when I fuck the shit out of you.”

Her innocent and pure eyes meet the eyes of the sadist. Tears were rolling down her cheek every second, and Hyunjin licks them away.

“They taste delicious.”

He abruptly stopped and harshly threw her down onto the floor. The two men towered over the small girl. Both of them felt so powerful. They loved how helpless she was against them.

Felix gets on his knees and hovers over the petite girl. He picks her up and lays her on his chest, then inserts his red cock into her pussy.

“What are-”

She faintly says, but she couldn’t finish her sentence because of the lack of energy.

“Shhh, baby girl. This is gonna hurt.”

“What’s gon- AHHHHHHHH, PLEASE OW. NO NO STOP PLEASE THAT HURTS PLEASE!”

Felix tightly hugs her body, so she wouldn’t move. Hyunjin in the back gave no mercy and held her throat up, before completely destroying her asshole.

She struggles in Felix's grip and eventually gives up and starts crying her heart out.

“Please! What have I ever done to you? I never even talked to you, why do you bully me?”

She sobs out feeling completely broken, physically and mentally.

“Why? Why do we bully you? You’re an easy target sweetheart! Look at how well you're taking both of our cocks.”

Hyunjin spanks her ass and goes even harder into her. She tries to hold herself up and for a brief moment she did. Her tits were swinging back and forth until Felix roughly grabbed them and pulled them down, making her collapse on him. He then grabs her face and pulls her into a deep makeout. Not passionate though. He would make her swallow his saliva and push his tongue down her throat.

Jealous of the kiss, Hyunjin pulls her up and makes her ride Felix's cock, while he tilts her head towards him, so he can kiss her too. His hands wandered to the girls breast and he played with them, like it was water balloons. He forcefully made her bounce on his cock, even though her tears were rubbing off on his face. Hyunjin put an arm around her waist and his other arm around her throat, before releasing the beast.

His hips started moving faster and faster and he slowly started to lose control. He pushes her forward to get in the perfect position. The girl starts wailing when Felix starts thrusting into her as well. She holds onto Hyunjins big hand and sobs uncontrollably, feeling the two cocks go at it inside of her.

“Hyunjin! Stop! P-please it hur-rts so ba-ad you don’t understa-and!”

She squeaks out desperately. Her wanting him to stop, pissed him off even more. Hyunjin held her harder and went at it, making her scream and cry from the pain.

Felix also increases his speed, looking at her desperate figure. She drove these two men crazy. That’s why she was getting fucked by them now.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“No! N-not in mee please! I’m too young.”

“Too bad.”

The sounds of skin slapping were echoing off the walls, turning the boys on even more. Felix grabs her hips and completely loses it. He hit her gspot making her cry even harder.

“Come in baby. Have your very first orgasm with us.”

Hyunjin whispers from behind.

The girl trembles violently. Her breath became shaky, and soon enough she was out of breath and panting. Euphoria takes over her body and tingles run around in her lower abdomen making her sob loudly. Her pussy and ass clench around the two boys, and eventually the cum comes rushing out squirting all over the boys. Hyunjin holds her body from behind and Felix lends her his hands.

“Good girl. Just like that darling.”

Felix and Hyunjin both release at the sight of the destroyed girl. They stayed in that position for another minute until Hyunjin gets up.

“Let’s go to my place. You won’t be able to walk for the rest of the day darling.”

She nods in agreement and Hyunjin picks her up off of Felix’s now soft cock.

“Here wear my shirt.”

Felix gives his shirt to her and grabs her skirt. The two men quickly dressed her up and Felix carried her out of the school, into Hyunjin’s car.

“Well, it looks like we have a new little doll.”

——————————————————————————

Not a request, but I was in stray kids feels✌️😚

Edited🔐

Hope you enjoyed❣️

Xoxo N❣️

[tara-the-quiet-bookworm-2016]

Pulse (Yandere! Connor x Female Reader.) (Chapter Five.)

Authors Notes- And here I am with the second last chapter of Pulse. Here our boy Connor finally, after so long has the Reader in his grasp. And trust me things aren’t going to go well for poor Reader.  As you can gather I like to give you lovely people a heads up when it comes to triggering things. Soooo, in this chapter it will feature some abuse, a little bit of bloodshed. If none of this is your cup of tea then this where we part ways. But I’ll remember our time fondly.

Chapter Five: Let Me Love You

You were finally his. Finally, after what seemed liked forever you were in his clutches. And now that you were you he wasn’t going to let you go. Smiling to himself Connor watched as you slept in the apartment he had managed to get for you. It was perfect, after all there was no way he could keep you at Hanks that was the last thing the old lieutenant needed was him keeping his love interest captive in his house. So here he was in this small two bedroom apartment in the heart of Detroit away from your old home. You wouldn’t need that place anymore, after all Connor had so painstakingly decorated this one much liked your own. 

He hoped you’d like it. Even though he knew you’d be pissed when you woke, but you would learn to live with it. You had no other choice. 

“Mmmmm.” A low groan jerked Connor from his thoughts, his eyes immediately going to where you lay, noting the bruise on your neck from when he had subdued you. The corner of his mouth turning upwards as he looked at it. Relishing the way it looked on your skin, he couldn’t wait to mark your skin more but that could wait, one thing at a time, he didn’t want to rush things now that you were his.

Blinking your eyes you looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling, your brow furrowing.

“I see you’re finally awake.” A calm voice spoke, making you look to your right, your heart beat quickening when you looked to Connor. Your mind flashing back to that time in your apartment when he... he...

Panic gripped your chest as you struggled to get to your feet, you needed to get out of here, to get away from him. Leaping off the bed you raced towards the door not bothering to look back as you raced out of the door, Connor calling after you. Making your heart beat quicken as you raced through the living room, the door was in your sight, you were so close. Your heart skipping a beat at the thought of escaping.

But Connor had other ideas, letting out a frustrated growl Connor grabbed a hold of you, slamming your roughly against the door you were trying to escape through. Finding  yourself pressed roughly against the door you couldn’t help but cry out when Connor grabbed a hold of your arm and twisted it roughly behind your back, His face mere inches from yours, anger shining in his eyes.

The two of you remained that way for a few minutes, when Connor finally spoke, his voice devoid of emotion, sending chills down your spine. “I see that you don’t trust me.” He sighed, his breath brushing against your cheek, making you shiver. “But know this I don’t care you if you don’t want to be with me. Or be here in this home I made for you, but you are never getting away from me. You are going to learn to be with me.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as he gave your arm one final twist, before pulling you off the door, and all but dragging you to your room, tossing you unceremoniously onto your bed. 

“You killed Gavin.” You choked out. Swiping a hand under your nose. “You’re a monst-”  Before you could utter another word Connor wrapped his hand around your neck.

“Please,” he said coolly, watching as you clawed at his hand. “Do not ever utter that name in my presence ever again.” He said.

Letting you go he watched with some sick satisfaction as you coughed as air rushed back into your lungs. He knew he shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t hurt you but you needed to learn this. He had put up with you throwing yourself at Gavin, while ignoring him he wasn’t going to put up with that anymore. You were his now. And if he had to he would make you see.

Anger shone in your eyes as you rubbed at your bruised neck. You had once thought of Connor as your friend, but after today you felt nothing but anger for the android looming over you. Wish you had never met him, wishing you had seen that something was wrong long before... before...

No, you couldn’t think about him now. 

“You think you have feelings for me?” you asked, your voice devoid of emotion as you wiped the tears from your eyes. You weren’t going to waste anymore tears on this bastard. “That’s a joke.”

Connor blinked as he turned back to you. 

“You think this is how you win someone’s heart? Killing the man they have feelings for? Kidnapping them? Hurting them?” You scoffed. “What a joke, Connor. You may be a deviant now, and you may think  you have feelings for me, but this isn’t how you go about doing it.”

Connor moved towards you, making you move back up on your bed, a shiver running down you spine as he loomed over you. You wondered if this was what deviants saw before Connor deviated and set aside his ways. Fear gripped your heart as you bit down on your bottom lip. 

Connor chuckled, his fingers brushed against your cheek, and you did the only thing you could think of, and that was biting down on his hand, biting down on the plastic casing of his hand, and making him jerk away. Shaking his hand out Connor struck you hard across your face, making you cry out. Blood trickling from your cut cheek as you dropped to the ground.

“You think I don’t know what love is? Or what I’m feeling?” Connor asked, as he watched as you huddled on your bed. He wanted to feel guilty, but he couldn’t you needed to learn even if he knew it was wrong. “I can assure you I do. I know my emotions are real.” His fingers carding through your hair as you flinched away from him as he suppressed a sigh. Taking a few steps back Connor turned away.

He would give you some time to be alone, to adjust to your situation. Saying nothing he locked the door behind him...

Your eyes remained glued to the door as you heard Connor lock it behind him before a fresh wave of tears spilled down your cheeks. He wanted you to stay here, in this... prison. He wanted to forced you to love him, to love the monster he had become. What had happened to him? You wondered as you lay on the bed he had given you. He seemed so sweet, so kind when you had first met him, sure, the staring thing had been a little creepy but you never expected this. Never expected him to kill Gavin or kidnap you. God, you wished you could go back in time and do... something to prevent this. 

But here you were trapped by someone you thought was a friend. A friend who had betrayed you... Swallowing thickly you pushed up from your bed, your tears drying as you came up with a plan. You needed to escape, you couldn’t stay here, wouldn’t stay here. Worrying at your bottom lip you looked around the room, a sick feeling washed over you when you saw how similar this room looked to your old room. 

That bastard had been in your house before. Shaking that thought from your head you tore your gaze away from the all too familiar posters on the wall and looked to the window. The window looked out into the city, unlike the one at your apartment that only looked towards the neighboring building. You couldn’t stay here any longer. Biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as you looked for something to break the window. Seeing a lone chair sitting near your bed, the very same one Connor had been seated in not too long ago. Nodding to yourself you grabbed it and tossed it with all your might towards the window. Heart pounding in your chest as you heard the glass shatter. Casting a glance towards the door you wasted no time breaking off the extra pieces as you scrambled out the window.

Crying out as jagged shard of glass sliced into your left arm as you all but tumbled out the window. Grunting in pain as you fell on to the fire escape. Picking yourself up you raced down it as you heard Connor chasing after you. Let out a whimper you picked up the pace, letting out a scream as you felt his hands close on the back of your shirt, before he clamped a hand over you mouth, silencing you. 

You were so close, you had been so close to being free. You thought as you watched as people and cars raced by as you were dragged back into the shadows by this fucking android. Letting out a whimper you continued to fight as he dragged you back home. When you bit down on his hand again, making him cry out, seeing your chance you broke free. But were only able to get a few steps away from him before he grabbed a handful of your hair, jerking you back.

“I’ve had enough.” Connor growled, as you continued to fight him as he shoved the door open and tossed you in before looking around to see if there was anyone watching him. Seeing no one he slammed the door shut and moved to where you lay on the floor, sobbing quietly to yourself.

 “You thought you could escape.” Connor commented, circling around you, his LED flashing red as it cut through the dimly lit room you were in. “Thought you could run from me.”

You said nothing as he continued to circle you, You tried so hard, and for nothing. A long, painfilled wail escaped your lips, which was quickly cut off as Connor grabbed you by your hair once more, as Connor dragged you to another room. One he had chosen as his, before slamming the door shut behind him. He had been so intent on winning you over but now... now he realized that trying to convince you was out, now, he realized in order for you to see things his way he would have to break you. Smiling cruelly Connor realized it didn’t seem like a bad idea. A thrill running through him as he moved towards you, as you whimpered, scrabbling against the floor, until your back pressed against the wall as he advanced...

[bnhabadass]

This last week has been kind of rough, but I still managed to write this angsty pangsty Akaashi x Reader Fics for the BNHA Sanctuary Valentine’s Day Collab. I am not the best when it comes to writing angst and this is definitely not my best work, but I am still proud of it regardless.

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader Genre: Angst with happy ending Warnings: Pervy and some non-consensual behavior from Terushima Word Count: 3,212

He found you on the bathroom floor, eyes closed, naked body huddled into itself as water from the shower head sprayed onto you. You were tuning him out as he screamed your name, only coming to when you felt the consistent patter of the water stop and the weight of a fluffy towel was tossed on you.

“Bokuto?” The name came out in a breathy moment of confusion as the young, panicked man tried to shield his eyes from your naked form.

“What happened? Are you okay? Did you fall?” It was almost comedic, the way he shifted his body and frantically moved his arms to shield his eyes.

“Why’d you turn the water off?” you mumbled, looking down. “I still have soap in my hair.”

Finally, Bokuto opened his eyes to see that you did in fact still have bits of soap covering your hair and running down your back. “Are you okay?”

You nodded once, twice, before he felt confident enough to slip out and let you finish showering in peace.

You were finally dry, dressed, and was towelling off your wet hair as you walked into the kitchen.

Bokuto was eating breakfast and scrolling through Tiktok, not an unusual sight to see from him on a Saturday morning when he had nothing to do and could take his time eating.

“Coffee?” You held the empty pot up.

He looked up from his phone and shook his head. “Can’t have caffeine.”

Looking back at the pot you remembered that this was not the first time the two of you have had that conversation. “Right.” You put up the pot for yourself and grabbed a piece of bread out of the plastic bag on the counter. You didn’t bother toasting it before stuffing it in your mouth. “Fanks again fo wettin me stay hewe.”

“It’s no prob,” he smiled. You were amazed that he could understand you with all that bread in your mouth. “You’d do the same if my boyfriend dumped me.”

You swallowed the bread, a pensive look on your face. “But your boyfriend isn’t my best friend.”

He seemed to be thinking hard about what you had said. “That’s true,” he admitted. “But I’ve heard both sides of the story.”

The events between you and Akaashi were also not an uncommon thing to be discussed as of late. For the first two days of you sleeping on Bokuto’s couch, he left you alone for the most part, only asking you unrelated questions like if you wanted takeout or if you wanted to watch a movie or something. Then he asked what your plan was, if you planned on staying for a while or if you planned on going back to work soon. The last week was taxing on the both of you, but Bokuto was still incredibly supportive of everything, even if that involved him having to listen to you complain about his best friend.

“Does Akaashi know I’m staying here?” Your eyes stayed on the stream of dark brown liquid as you poured the contents of the coffee pot into a mug for yourself.

“You’re back to a last name basis?” The kicked-puppy look on Bokuto’s face made your heart want to melt. He had done such a good job of keeping his mood swings in check while you needed him to be your rock for you, but now that you were a bit more stable, he let himself back off a bit and turn back into the loveable baby Bo that everyone knew him as.

You smiled, repeating what you had asked. “Does Akaashi know I’m staying here.”

“No.” He stuck a piece of bacon in his mouth and nervously chewed it.

“Good.” Sitting down, you pulled out your phone and enjoyed your coffee in silence. You were sure that if he ever did find out, the consequences for Bokuto would be much more trouble than it was worth.

It was around five pm when the doorbell rang. Bokuto sprinted up from his spot on the couch and answered it. He swung the door open and on the other end, was a slightly sweaty Akaashi wearing exercise clothes, unlike his usual dark academia attire.

“Agaashi? You’re not pizza.” Bokuto cocked his head to the side.

“Sorry I’m not who you were expecting,” Akaashi apologized. “May I come in? I just...” he trailed off. “I just really need to figure this out and get everything out of my head.”

Fukorodani’s former ace was about to let him in, be there for his best friend, but he paused when he remembered that inside the apartment was you, Akaashi’s problem. Bo leaned his hand against the door frame. “No you may not.”

Akaashi wrinkled an eyebrow up. “And why is that?”

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, Bokuto answered, “because my place is a mess.”

“When has that ever stopped you from inviting me into your apartment?”

Leave it to you to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. This seemed to be happening more and more frequently. “Bo, is that the pizza?” you called from the kitchen. Stepping out towards the front door, your face fell as soon as you saw exactly who it was at the front door.

Akaashi’s face turned into that of pure disgust. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

At those six measly words strung into one of the most simple sentences, your heart ripped in half. You felt like you could cry. As full of rage as he was, looking at you like you were the trashiest piece of filth he had ever seen, you still wanted to find the man you fell in love with underneath. You still wanted to find the person who would give you shoulder rubs after a hard day of work, the person who read to you as you’d rest your head in his lap and never want to get up. As you looked into his eyes, all you could see was disgust and pure hatred. The love that once clouded his irises wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Agaashi, wait,” Bokuto started. “I can explain.”

“How the hell can you explain this?” he scoffed. “After everything I’ve vented to you, every hardship I’ve had this week, you’re sleeping with her?”

The pounding heartbeat you could hear in your ears was replaced by an evergoing ringing that’s volume increased with each passing second. He thought... he thought you and Bokuto were sleeping together? You tried to find your voice but couldn’t.

“That’s not what’s happening,” Bokuto said, a sad sense of worry engulfing his voice. “She’s just staying on my couch because she has nowhere to go.”

“And why would you even bother hearing her out?”

You didn’t think your heart would be able to crack even more than it already had. You wanted to stand up for yourself, stand up for Bokuto who was about to lose his best friend in the world all because of you, but your voice caught in your throat every time you would part your lips to speak.

“I can’t believe this.” Akaashi turned around to walk away and it was at that moment that you realized that everything was over. No more shoulder rubs after work, no more laying on his lap as he read to you. You were through, and there was nothing you could do to stop him from walking away.

Falling to your knees, hitting the hardwood floors and not even caring about the bruises that would appear in the next day or two, you let out a sob. As loud as a child throwing a tantrum in the candy aisle of a grocery store, you sobbed and wept as it all began to sink in. You had just lost the love of your life.

You didn’t realize it, as your eyes were clouded over with a thick layer of salty tears, but Akaashi stopped at hearing your wails. A chill ran up his spine at such an ungodly and painful sound. You were broken and even though he was hurting just as much as you were, a little part of him wanted to help fix you.

Not much time had passed, not much time at all, before you felt gentle fingers brushing the tears out of your eyes. Looking up, Akaashi was towering over you. He gripped onto your arms and you braced onto him while standing up. You were surprised as he nodded at you, but you nodded back regardless. As he led you over to the couch, you held onto his ring finger, just in case he tried to go away.

Bokuto placed a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder after he stopped. Bokuto could read him as easily as Akaashi could read the books lining the walls in his apartment. “Please hear her out.” His voice was shaky. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing his best friend. “You don’t have to forgive her, but I don’t want to see either of you hurting anymore.”

Akaashi let out a strangled breath. Looking back at you crumpled into yourself on the floor, he realized that he didn’t want to see you hurting either. Your body was limp and you began coughing with each heavy sob you let out. Walking over to you, he wiped your tears away. At seeing your e/c eyes looking up at him, no matter how glassy they were with a fresh layer of tears, he felt lighter, like a piece of him that had been missing all week had finally returned.

He led you over to the couch and the both of you sat down. There was a great enough distance between you where you still felt the tension between you two, but it was much less suffocating than before.

Bokuto made you a pot of tea and set two cups in front of you. Akaashi reached for the pot and poured it into the cups. Then he waited, waited for you to do or say something, but you didn’t know what to say. You only looked down, picking at the dirt under your nails while waiting for him to speak up.

“Your tea’s getting cold.”

You nodded but made no move to drink it.

“Bokuto said that we should hear each other out.” He was looking down at his running shoes. “Would you like to go first?”

You swallowed and felt an ache in your dry yet tacky throat. “What do you think happened?”

He hesitated. “Well, I came home and I saw beer cans everywhere. I remembered you saying you had some friends coming over. And then, well.” He was clearly stalling. He didn’t want to say what you knew would come out of his mouth, and you couldn’t really blame him. “I heard laughing from the bedroom. So I walked in and saw you underneath Terushima.” That name felt like acid dripping off his tongue.

Of course the two of you knew each other, having gone to the same high school and being a part of the same volleyball club. It was a silly little get-together you planned, the last time you saw him, and you had even told Akaashi about it. You wanted to throw a little gathering for Misaki’s birthday. You had stayed in touch with your fellow senior manager all these years and wanted to do something special for her.

The get-together was at your shared apartment with Akaashi, who was out working late that night. Everyone was having fun drinking and catching up, and by the time it was late and almost everyone had left, Terushima was on his seventh drink of the night and could barely stand up on his own.

No one wanted to take him off your hands, especially since he would be such a pain to drag into a taxi, so you let him spend the night at yours. You left out a bucket for him just in case and made the couch up, finding a nice fluffy blanket for him to get comfy with.

But then he threw a fit. “No!” he whined in a slurred voice, spittle bubbling at the corners of his mouth. “Bed.”

“You can’t sleep in my bed, Teru. Where are me and Keiji supposed to sleep?” You left to grab him a glass of water and when you came back, he was gone. He had stumbled into your bedroom and had collapsed half on the bed, half on the floor. The fluffy blanket was still wrapped around him, making him look like a burrito.

He smiled as he hoisted himself up onto the bed. “Mmm,” he mumbled. “Bed.”

“Teru, you can’t sleep in here.” You tried to pull him off the mattress but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he brought his hand out of the blanket burrito and reached out to pull him on top of you. You let out a yelp but couldn’t get up.

“Come cuddle.” His hand slithered down your back-side.

“Teru, let go.”

He rolled on top of you, trapping you between him and the mattress.

You couldn’t even let out another protest because you heard someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Akaashi stood there, dumbfounded and red-faced, not believing the sight in front of him.

“Oh thank god, Keiji, I–”

“Get out.”

You didn’t know what to say. “Baby, I–”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

You had never heard Akaashi yell before, and you’re sure the neighbors who peaked their head out from their doors late at night had never heard him yell like that either. You sobbed, pleaded for him to hear you out all while Terushima snored in the background.

You’ve thought about that fight every day and night for the last week. Looking up at Akaashi now, you could still see the anger boiling inside of him.

“Is there a reason I found him on top of you?”

You let out a shaky breath and nodded. “I let my drunk friend stay the night and he took advantage of my kindness.”

He waited for you to continue.

“I was going to let him crash on the couch but when I turned my back he darted for the bedroom.” As you spoke, you could see the visible change in Akaashi’s stature.The way he sat loosened up as he was finally hearing the truth of what happened. You rubbed your tired eyes. “I tried to pull him off but he dragged me onto the bed with him.”

Akaashi felt sick. “He didn’t...” he trailed off, not able to get the words out. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You shook your head. “No. I haven’t spoken to him since then so I don’t even know if he remembers what happened.” You could tell from the way he rubbed his fingers practically raw and the way he hunched over himself that Akaashi was getting anxious. What was going on through his head, you were unaware of, but you were sure it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.” He needed to take another moment to find the right words. “I’m sorry that that happened to you.”

You nodded and picked up your cup of almost luke-warm tea. Hearing him say that, even if he was shaking at hearing that news and trying his hardest to keep it together, you felt a slight calm wash over you. It wasn’t perfect, but the thoughts that trailed in and out of your head, the ringing in your ears every time you thought of what happened between you and him, you and Terushima, the hot pelts of water falling down on you from this morning. It was all going away.

“I am so sorry.”

You nodded.

“I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You looked up at that moment and realized that hot streams of tears were quickly working down Akaashi’s face. “Keiji,” you said, and you paused, realizing that that was the first time in a while you had said his first name.

“I am so...” he couldn’t even get the rest of the sentence out as hot breaths and an oncoming panic attack overtook him.

You stood up and set your tea cup onto the coffee table. Half of the contents inside sloshed out but you didn’t care. You sat right beside him and put your arms around his shoulders. Your fingers worked through his hair, greasier than usual but still soft and fluffy.

He gripped onto your arm and it hurt a little, but you knew he didn’t mean for it to hurt you. If anything, he was making sure that you were really there, that you wouldn’t dematerialize any second.

“I...I–”

You squeezed him tight and shushed him the way you would shush a fussy baby who wouldn’t calm down. “I know. I know you didn’t mean to.”

And then there was silence. Only staggering breaths that Akaashi let out and the sound of you running your fingers through his hair. It was almost serene, the way the two of you just sat there listening to the little little sounds in Bokuto’s apartment.

“I had a rough day at work,” he broke the silence. “I know that isn’t an excuse, but I was just hoping that after hours of deadlines and papers piling on top of each other and my back hurting, I could come home to you.”

Your gut wrenched as you realized that’s probably why he assumed you and Bokuto were being intimate with one another when he saw you earlier. “But when you saw me underneath Terushima.”

He nodded. “And I know that’s no excuse. And I am sorry, truly sorry for ever doubting you or questioning your loyalty to me as your boyfriend.”

You kissed the top of his head and nuzzled your nose in his hair. “I know, and I forgive you.” It’s true that you were in pain for that whole week, not having the energy to eat, sleep or even stand up in the shower, and all you wanted to do was cry, but after seeing the pain and regret on Akaashi’s face, all you wanted to do was squeeze him and never let go.

Neither of you left the couch for the next hour. You just held onto each other, not caring that it was getting late or that you had to pee or that your faces were stained and blotchy with tears. You barely spoke, just listened to each other breathe up and down.

“Will you come back home?” Akaashi broke the silence.

You looked up at him from his chest where you had been laying. “Of course.” Stretching up to give him a peck on the lips, he smiled at you.

“You know, tomorrow’s Valentine’s day.”

You were aware of the holiday, of course, but in the last week you couldn’t help but look at the paper hearts and other decorations lining store fronts with disdain. “I do.”

He pulled you into his embrace, rubbing your shoulders with a warm hand. “It’s too late to get any restaurant reservations, but would pizza and a movie suffice?”

“I think it will.” You smiled into his chest and nuzzled against him. Finally, after a miserable week away, you’d be going back home.

[untaemedqueen]

The Lions Den

Mafia!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 5.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings For This Chapter: Gory Descriptions, Shoddy Medical Work From A Non-Professional, Mentions of Suicide, Character Mentions They’re Ready To Die 

TagList- @ayyyocee​​​​​​​​, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune​, @imaforeigner​​​​​​​​, @yeonkiminnie​​​​​​​​​, @stories1907​​​​​​​​​, @ppersonna​​​​​​​​​, @brilee64​​​​​​​​​, @gooplibrary​​​​​​​​​, @vivpurple7​​​​​​​​, @xjoonchildx​​​​​​​​, @brightwingr5​​​​​​​​, @yaniposts22​​​​​​​​, @rjsmochii​​​​​​​​, @taeslittletiger​​​​​​​​, @pjmcth​​​​​​​​, @bts-chub​​​​​​​​, @kpoppingthempills​​​​​​​, @kim-ji-hyeons-world​​​​​​, @jikooksgirl19​​​, @yoong-i​​​, @ruinsofangels​​​, @absolutefantrash​​, @chiminies-noona​​, @eclectically-esoteric​

Sequel to The Bird Cage

A/N: A super big shout out to my resident nurse forever @youarejesting​, she’s the absolute greatest and I’m really grateful for her help!

The drive to the warehouse was silent apart from the sound of squealing tires and Jimin's heavy breathing. His eyes were screwed shut, sweaty hand gripping at yours as it rests on your lap. You can hear Namjoon's lips smack together as he whispers under his breath. The tires squeal loudly before turning onto the deserted road of the warehouse.

In the distance, as the sun rises you can make out Hoseok's SUV. The warehouse doors were swung wide open and you squeeze Jimin's hand as Namjoon slams on the brakes. Jimin’s eyes snap open before wiping his hands on his pants. Through the windshield of the Escalade you can see splatters of blood on the dirt path into Jeongguk’s famed warehouse and your stomach begins to roll.

Hoseok was nowhere in sight and your heart stops for a fraction of a second before you’re shoving open the car door and jogging out. “Y/N!” Hoseok screams and you take a deep breath before jogging into the warehouse.

The stench of blood has your body faltering backwards, your eyes straining to see in the dark wooden repository. Then you see it, Jeongguk laid out on the ground, blood pooling around him. Hoseok above him shirtless pressing his black t-shirt onto Guk’s body. “Oh my God.” You mumble before running over to them.

Jeongguk has a cold sweat, face pale as his eyes stare up at the wooden rafters above him. Black hair stuck to his face like it’s been glued and you can hear Jimin curse loudly behind you. You fall to your knees, hand caressing his sweating face before looking up at Hoseok. His eyes are puffy and red, he’s been crying for his little brother. “Noona!” Jeongguk slurs as a smile breaks onto his face. 

His voice is hoarse and you take in a deep breath before looking down at him. You can’t find it in yourself to answer him as you take over for Hoseok putting pressure on his wounds. You can save him, you have to. “Get the car ready, we have to move him.” You tell Hoseok who in turn sighs gently.

“He’s been bleeding for almost an hour, he’s not going to make it.” He whispers in your ear before sobbing gently. 

“Yes, he is. He’s going to make it. Go do as I said.” You whisper fiercely as Namjoon’s hands grip under Hoseok’s armpits before he hauls up his body without a word. You can hear Jimin sob loudly before he’s crashing onto his knees beside Jeongguk’s body. The knees of his pants get caked in blood as he runs his hand over the youngest’s forehead. “What’d you do?! Kookie, you fucking idiot.” Jimin whispers before putting his hand over the black t-shirt as it soaks in his blood. 

Jeongguk gives a quiet laugh before closing his eyes. He coughs gently before cringing and gasping for air. “Noona?” He whispers trying to lift his hand to try and grab your arm. 

“Don’t move, Guk, please.” You whisper as Jimin peels back the shirt before crying harder. His eyes screw shut, before he presses harder on the wound taking over for you.

“Am I going to die now?” He asks before licking at his lips, he coughs gently before looking back up at the ceiling. 

“No! You’re not fucking dying! I’m going to help you.” You tell him as your nasal passages begin to burn with raw emotion. Guk cringes, a short breath invades his lungs before he finally grabs your wrist.

“Noona. It’s okay. I’m ready.” Jimin presses down harder on the wound as he bites his bottom lip.

“No! You aren’t! Stop talking!” You seethe to him before your eyes become blurry with tears. You look up, eyes blinking rapidly to see clearly before you spot the workbench of tools Guk uses. Standing up on shaky legs, you drag yourself to the iron table before swiping your arm over your face. You whine gently as you peruse the tools, he has nothing to help stop bleeding. You wouldn't expect him to in his line of work but you had wishful thinking. 

“How deep is the cut?” You ask your husband who doesn’t hear you over his own wailing. 

“Car is ready!” Hoseok yells into the warehouse.

Namjoon enters, hair absolutely disheveled as he rushes over to Jeongguk. “How deep is the bleeding?!” You yell out in hopes someone will hear you.

“Deep! You can almost see his fucking guts!” Jimin screams back to you as he stands up. Your jump on your toes, the shock beginning to set in before you eye the clamps on the iron table. You turn your head as Jeongguk’s body begins to writhe on the floor. 

“Call Doctor Song!” You yell to Hoseok as he opens the car door. Quickly, your hands grab the clamps before looking around. Your teeth find the skin of your bottom lip, peeling some off before taking in a deep breath. You have to save this kid. You fucking have to.

“Blowtorch. Where’s the blowtorch?!” You scream loudly as Hoseok runs behind you with his phone pressed between his face and shoulder. He rushes past you towards the chains that are attached to the wall before digging through them and throwing you the torch. Kicking up dirt off the floor, you jog back over to the younger man.

“Okay, okay.” You mumble before setting the clamps down on Jeongguk’s legs. 

“What are you doing?” Jimin mumbles before sniffling. You ignore him as you fish into Jeongguk’s hoodie and pull out his bottle of cognac. The cap goes flying off and you can hear Hoseok mumbling into the phone on the other side of the warehouse.

“Guk. You gotta tell me what to do. You’re medical, you need to help me.” You tell him as you douse the clamps with the alcohol. 

“You’re wasting my alcohol.” He chuckles to himself before wetting his lips with his tongue. 

“When I say, lift off the shirt.” You tell your husband, he stares at you before pushing his black hair back.

“You can do this, Kitten?” He questions before looking at your stomach. 

“It’s not the first time.” Many times over the years you’ve had to help out the crew whether it be that Jeongguk was not there or he was the one hurt. But, he was never this drunk and willing to die before. You feel lost but you can’t let it swallow you. Your eyes flick to Jeongguk as he begins to cough again, harder and weaker this time around.

“Now.” You say to your husband. He lifts the shirt and your stomach rolls at the deep wound. Blood lazily traipses over the sides of his body as the pressure is released. 

“I’m sorry Kookie.” You whisper quietly before dousing the wound with the cognac. He chokes on a breath before groaning. You shower your hands with the alcohol before discarding the bottle. 

“Noona. You owe me for that bottle.” He mumbles to you and you chuckle gently before nodding. “I’ll buy you another one.”

You light up the blowtorch, before setting it down on the floor. With a shaky hand you grab the clamps and run it through the flame. “Jeongguk, tell me what I’m doing.” You mumble to him before meeting his eyes.

He shivers before gasping gently, “Heat up the clamps.”

Your bottom lip purchases between his teeth before heating up the clamps until they turn an orange tint, the metal radiating heat. “Put it where I’m bleeding out.” 

His instruction makes you swallow thickly, you can feel your mouth salivating out of sheer queasiness. Jimin looks down at the wound before clearing his throat. “Bottom right.”

You lean over the wound before pressing your lips into a straight line, you whimper before looking at the youngest as he shuts his eyes. “Just fucking do it.” He whispers before clenching his teeth.

You pull the clamps away from the fire, the metal glowing red before shaking out your limbs. You whine gently before groaning. “Okay. Okay.” You whisper to yourself, trying to will yourself to press the hot clamps into the large cut. 

Namjoon grabs your wrist as you whimper before dipping the hot clamp into Jeongguk’s wound to cauterize the veins, a second feels as if it is forever, before Namjoon is pulling out the clamps. Jeongguk screams loudly, feet lifting off of the floor. You cringe before apologizing numerous times to the younger man. His body shivers as he shuts his eyes. 

“Don’t pass out. Stay with me.” Jimin tells his younger brother as he runs his fingers through Guk’s hair. 

“Am I bleeding still?” Jeongguk asks through clenched teeth, Namjoon covers your eyes before peaking into the wound and shaking his head. “No.”

“Get me to the fucking hospital if you want to save my life so badly.” He mumbles before his body stills. Jimin takes off his shirt before pressing it to the wound and looking at everyone.

“Hey, Guk?” Jimin calls gently to the youngest before tapping his cheek gently. Jeongguk makes no movement before he’s being hauled off of the floor by Hoseok and Namjoon. 

“Get him to Park Hospital. I’ll take Namjoon’s car.” Jimin says to them as they exit the warehouse. He wipes at his face before looking up at you. Your body falters back before you’re laying on the floor, eyes dazed up to the wooden rafters above. 

“Kitten?” You hum gently as you close your eyes, hands still shaking gently as you clear your throat. Then it sets in, quite like it did a few years ago when you took care of Yoongi’s wounds. Your body shakes before a sob rips from your throat. 

“Okay.” Jimin whispers before your body is being picked up by his arms. He coddles you to his body before kissing over your forehead. “Let’s get you home. You and the baby need your rest.”

You lean against the door frame, staring at Jeongguk’s sleeping form before rubbing your hands together. He had been brought back not too long ago and you’ve been watching him sleep for quite some time. You sigh gently before sipping the ginger tea Mirae had made for you. He looks so peaceful as he sleeps but you know just how tormented he is when he wakes.

You enter the room before sitting in the armchair next to the bed. Watching as his eyes shift quickly behind his closed eyelids. You put down the tea before crossing your legs, hand running over your lips before you let out a small sigh. There was a time where Jeongguk reassured you during your time of need, being a shoulder to lean on. And now, through all of your guilt and your own selfishness you left him to wallow in his own self pity without taking care of him. You close your eyes before running your hands over your face.

A groan emits from his sleeping body and you’re quick to look up before pressing your lips into a straight line. “Noona?” His voice is hoarse and weak and it makes you whimper.

You stand up before sitting at the edge of his bed and running your hand over his tattooed arm. “Do you want water?” Your fingers brush his long hair out of his eyes as he nods slightly.

You grab the water bottle from the side table and crack it open for him. He lifts up before groaning loudly and falling back onto the bed. “Take it easy. You’re not going anywhere.” You whisper to him as he grabs the water bottle from you. 

His eyes find yours, before he grabs your hand. “I’m sorry I’m worrying you.” 

You shake your head at his words before rubbing your thumb in soothing, circular motions. “You need to stop drinking, you need to come back to reality Kookie. I know it’s so hard to see her around you but you need to stay with us.” He closes his eyes before drinking the water again.

“I’ll stop drinking.” He whispers before putting his head back and looking at the ceiling. “We have another baby coming soon. I want you to be around for them.”

He takes in a sharp breath before closing his eyes, “I’m so sorry. I’ll shape up.”

“You were there for me once when I needed to be found. You were by my side supporting me and I’m here for you. I’ll be here for you when you find yourself again.” He grabs at your hand before squeezing it tightly. 

You have so many questions for him, so many things you want to say but you only find yourself asking one. “Why’d you cut yourself so deeply, did you really want to die that badly?”

He clicks his teeth before sighing, “I didn’t cut myself. There was someone in the warehouse that I was going to torture and I was too drunk to make sure he was shackled properly. He got me and he got away.”

You widen your eyes at him before his bedroom door opens to Jimin. “Who was in the warehouse?” You ask before looking over at your husband. “One of the Ims men. He stole a shipment not too long ago.”

“You’re telling me you took it upon yourself to put an Im in one of our warehouses without an order?” Jimin pipes up, nervousness creeping into his voice. Jeongguk flinches before nodding.

“Yes. While I was drunk and now he’s on the loose.” Jimin pulls out his phone before cursing loudly, the room falls silent as Jeongguk attempts to sit up against his headboard. 

“Namjoon, there’s an Im running around that needs to be taken care of before he goes and tells them what Jeongguk did to him.” He hangs up the phone before narrowing his eyes at his younger brother. “You better hope Namjoon finds him first. Or I’ll have your head. Kitten.”

Jimin holds out his hand and you sigh gently before standing up and walking over to him. His hand lands on the flat of your stomach before slamming the door shut. Whether or not the Im is found. Hell was going to freeze over, you can feel it.

[ak47stylegirl]

Sick days: Chapter 11

Okay here’s chapter 11! XD 

Poor Allie isn’t having a good time at all 😞😟😭This cold is really being horrible to him, and he’s struggling to deal with it. (Partly because of his age, he’s still very much young child, the poor baby 😥)

Anyway I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 😁

Rest of the chapters found here. 

---

Alan pov

He blinked his eyes open; his vision was blurry as he took in his room. It was still dark out, the sun having not risen yet. It was still night-time. He squinted at the digital clock on his bedside table, trying to see what time it actually was.

12:43 am  

He groaned in misery, rolling over to lay on his other side. He has been up for the last 30 minutes now, and no matter what he did, he couldn't get back to sleep! His head felt like a balloon about to pop, his horrible headache not going away for even a moment, and his nose would not stop running, so he needed to blow and wipe it frequently.

Which kept him up and made his nose burn like fire. 

His throat felt like someone had poured hot metal down it, and it hurt so, so much to breathe. And it seemed like he was solely breathing through his mouth, unable to get any air through his swollen nose. 

And that made it hurt so much more! He thought as he broke out into coughing fit, spluttering everywhere as he tried to sit up a bit to lessen the feeling that he was suffocating. His arms gave out beneath him, causing him to collide cheek first with his pillow. 

He whimpered, still coughing slightly. He didn’t feel well, not even a little bit, he thought as he rolled over again, this time onto his back. He felt like he was drowning in sweat, he felt so overwhelmingly hot and feverish he was surprised he hasn’t combusted into flames yet. 

But at the same time, he was also shivering from the cold; he felt so weird. He was cold, then he was hot, then he was freezing, then he was boiling, and it started all over again! 

His blanket was discarded at his feet as he had kicked it off a while ago and he just didn’t have the energy to...to-

He sneezed into the open air, watching with tired watery eyes as the sneeze particles floated in the air above him, before landing back down on his face. He sniffled damply, feeling another sneeze building before launching forward, catching it with his hand. 

Only to realise that he now had snot all over his hand and face, thick gunky snot running down to his chin. He moaned as he reached blindly for a tissue, wiping his nose with what felt like sandpaper. 

He blew into the tissue, making his ears pop and his head hurt. He could hear himself groan, even to his own ears, he sounded dreadfully sick and congested. 

Maybe if he could just fall asleep, he'd feel better, he thought as he rolled on to his side again, throwing the tissue off the bed. 

He didn’t care where it landed; he felt too sick to care about anything. He looked at the clock one last time.

12:57 am

He whimpered and closed his eyes tight, forcing himself to focus on sleep and not how terribly sick and tired he felt. He just needed to sleep; he felt so tired, he just wanted some sleep…

He felt himself drift off…

---

1:34 am 

He stared at the number, barely able to think straight as he continued to stare and stare. He had only been asleep for half an hour, and he couldn’t even really call that sleep. He had been constantly tossing and turning, on the edge of sleep, but his body refused to let him get there. 

He wailed softly, covering his eyes with his arms as he started to sob. He just wanted to sleep, why was that so hard?! Salty tears ran down his cheek and down the sides of his nose, causing his already sore and swollen runny nose to burn. 

He sniffled, his nose running so much that his upper lip was starting to get really sore as it was constantly moist. He wiped at his nose haphazardly, trying to stop the flow to no avail.

His breath caught, and he started to hitch, sneezing all over himself once again. For the next couple of minutes, all he did was sneeze and wipe his nose, falling into a foul trance of misery. 

He groaned, wet tissue held over his burning red nose. He hesitantly removed it and threw it away, thinking the sneezing fit was over for the moment, but then his nostrils flared, and his breath caught again, and the cycle started all over again. 

As he reached for another tissue, his eyes watering immensely, he saw the time on his clock. 

2:04 am. 

He stared, his hand frozen in mid-air just above the tissue box, his nose dripping relentlessly. 

He has been sneezing and wiping his nose for almost half an hour; he realised in horror as his nose started to protect not being tended to soon enough as it began to flare and twitch. 

An unbearable itch built in his nostrils, causing him to gasp and hitch as he desperately tried to grab a tissue and bring it up to his nose in time, but it was too late, he launched forward and sneezed all over himself and his side table. 

He groaned in misery, collapsing back down against his pillow, tissue held to his nose. This was going to be a long night…

---

He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable no matter what he did. He felt so hot and bothered, but he also felt so cold, so he was constantly pulling his blanket back on or removing it. 

He sneezed into his pillow, which turned into a throat tearing coughing fit. He moaned as he wiped his nose, he just couldn’t win...

He coughed again and heaved himself up on his elbows, starting to cough so harshly he was almost gagging. He felt like he was going to be sick as his chest rattled with each painful cough, his elbows starting to shake and tremble beneath him.

All of his limbs felt like lead and were getting harder to move each minute he couldn’t get to sleep; he felt so light-headed and weak. His elbows finally gave way, causing him to slam suddenly into his pillow mid cough, making it one thousand times more painful. 

He glanced over at his clock and groaned, covering his eyes with his arms.

2:40 am

---

Just as he was about to fall slightly asleep, nature decided to call and complain that they haven’t talked since yesterday morning. In other words, he was bursting to go to the toilet, he thought with a groan, clenching his stomach.

He felt so exhausted and so, so very sick and out of it at this point that he was tempted to just go where he laid instead of getting up. It wasn’t like his brothers would be surprised by it because after all, he has a history of accidentally wetting the bed from time to time. 

And it was becoming a serious challenge just to hold it, he thought with a whimper, crawled up into a slight ball, his legs held tightly together. And he was sure if he didn’t get up soon, he would have an accident no matter what. 

It was only the fact that he would have to lay in his mess for the rest of the night, (Or get Scott and tell him he wet the bed, either way, he would still need to get up...) that made him slowly sit up and swing his legs off the edge of the bed. 

He pushed himself off the bed, and instantly regretted it, having stood up too fast. He latched onto the bedside table swallowing deeply as he suddenly felt dreadfully dizzy and nauseous. 

He swallowed deeply, almost having an accident there and then, but he was able to catch himself with only a little bit escaping, wetting his undies slightly. But unfortunately, it was wet enough to make the need to go even more intense. 

He whimpered, making his way out of his room the quickest he could, stepping out into the dark, empty hallway. His bare feet touched the cold wood floor, causing shivers to run down his spine. 

He didn't like the dark, and he was suddenly freezing, shivering where he stood. 

(which did not make holding his bladder any easier, his wet undies were freezing cold against his skin.) 

He clenched his door handle, scared to wander into the dark, but his need to go to the toilet overpowered his fear. 

He leaned heavily against the wall for support as he made his way to the toilet room, navigating the hallway the best he could in the state he was in. It was like every step he made seemed to drain his energy more and more, he thought with a little groan, turning left of Gordon’s bedroom and into a little mini hallway. 

The bathroom door was to his right, adjacent Gordon’s bedroom and the toilet room was right in front of him, at the end of the hallway. The momentary relief was almost instantly replaced with horror as his control over his bladder started to slip away at an alarmingly fast speed.

And what followed was a mad dash to turn the toilet room light on, close the door, lift the toilet lid, get his pants and undies down and do all that before he fully and thoroughly wet himself. 

After he finished doing his business, somehow just making it in time with his pyjama pants and undies only getting slightly wet. He stepped out of the toilet room feeling drained of all of his energy, the adrenaline-filled run having used all of it up.

His head was throbbing from the sudden light change, and now that his bladder wasn’t screaming at him anymore, all the other things that had been ailing him all night started to speak up, he thought with a congested sniffle, entering the bathroom. 

He turned the bathroom light on, whimpering slightly at the brightness of the room. The itch in his nose, which he had started to dread feeling, came back full force and left him sneezing multiple times into his elbow, the world spinning around him.  

He grabbed the door frame to steady him, for a second feeling like he was going to throw up. He sniffled damply, his nose dripping immensely, but he didn’t have any tissues on him, so he wiped his nose with his palm.

And almost started crying as his swollen red nose screamed at him, stinging so much that his eyes began to water even more. He sniffled, he just wanted to sleep….

He slowly made his way to the sink, pushing the little stool that normally stood to the side, in front of the sink. He needed the stool to reach the sink, as he was still too small to reach it on his own. 

He stepped onto the stool and turned the tap on, washing his hands with soap like his brothers’ taught him, the cold water feeling nice against his hot, feverish skin. He glanced up at the mirror in front of him and felt his shoulders drop; he looked just as sick and exhausted as he felt...

His eyes were red-rimmed and watery, with dark purple shallows developing under them. His skin was blotchy and covered in sweat, really pale in places but also flushed red from fever in other places, like his cheeks. And the thing that stood out the most, the thing that had been causing him the most misery, was his nose. 

It was rubbed raw, a bright irritated red that stood out against his otherwise pale skin; thick oozing snot hanging out of his inflamed nostrils.  

He stepped down from the stool and walked out of the bathroom, forgetting to turn the lights off as he made his way back to his bedroom in a daze, feeling too sick and exhausted for his brain to function correctly. 

He collapsed belly first onto his bed with a groan, crawling up to his pillow and crawling up into a ball of misery, catching a glimpse of the time.

3:38 am

---

The sun was taunting him! Because with every inch it crawled higher into the sky, lighting his room up, was another minute of possible sleep slipping from his fingers like sand. 

The sun rising was concrete proof of how little sleep he has gotten, and his sick body was struggling to function on so little sleep. His symptoms had steadily worsened as his body gave way to the cold virus that was wracking his system, unable to fight properly in its exhausted state. 

He coughed weakly, staring blankly up at his ceiling, his eyes glazed over with fever and fatigue. His nose decided it wanted in on the ‘fun’ and started to itch, his red nostrils getting damper by the minute. 

He brought his hand up as he hitched and gasped, the itch in his nose getting unbearable until-

He launched forward and sneezed into his hand, some of the stray missing his hand and floating in the air above him. He sniffled and instantly regretted it as that triggered another sneeze, this one bigger and more out of control than the last. 

Which was followed by another one, and another. By the time he was done sneezing, his nose was streaming relentlessly, and his hand and lower face was covered in snot. 

He groaned in agony, coughing slightly as he reached for a tissue. He gently wiped his nose and upper lip, whimpering as the tissue tore across his swollen nose like sandpaper. He threw the used tissue away and grabbed another one with a stuffy sniffle, being it up to his nose and blowing into it.

His ears popped and his head screamed, his headache worsening. He blinked wetly up at the ceiling, tissue still held over his nose, a couple of tears leaking out of the side of his barely opened eyes. He was so tired...

He sniffled into the tissue, his nose starting to feel irradiated and itchy again. His stomach churned at the sensation, dread filling his entire being as he began to hitch and gasp again, before launching forward and sneezing into the already soaked tissue.

Five more powerful and moist sneezes followed, each getting messier and more out of control. By the time he was finally finished sneezing, he was shaking, and tissue in his hand had almost pulp, completely soaked through.

He moaned as he dropped it off the bed, reaching for another tissue but his hand met thin air. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he sat up slightly and reached for the tissue box, spotting the time on his clock briefly.

4:25 am 

His tissue box was empty; he had no more fresh tissues, he realised as he stared down at the empty box, his nose starting to twitch and flare again as another sneeze built. He sneezed all over himself and all over the bedside table, unable to cover in time.

He swayed where he sat, feeling so awfully sick and light-headed, in desperate need of sleep but unable to get any. He collapsed back down onto his pillow with a groan, his bottom lip trembling as he tried to keep the tears away. 

His nose was running, and no amount of sniffling was going to stop it. And to make things even worse, he sneezed again, causing the snot to run even more. He rolled onto his side and spotted a scrunched up tissue lying near the edge of his bed; he grimaced as he reached for it, bringing it up to his nose.

Using the dirty tissue wasn’t pleasant; it was damp and soaked already, the moisture irritating his nose as it was rubbed across his nose. But It was better than using his hand, even if it still left his nose somewhat wet. 

---

He heard Scott get up for his morning run a while ago, which told him it was around five in the morning. And his clock confirmed that fact.

5:24 am 

He would have called out to Scott, (oh he so wanted to) but he just didn’t have the energy, and his throat felt like someone took a razor blade to it, and then poured molten tar down it, so he really couldn’t...

Everything hurt so much, he thought with a whimper, crawled into a ball facing his window. His nose was one hundred times worse now ever since he had to start using the dirty used tissues, his nose glistening with moisture as it glowed bright irritated red. 

He could barely keep his eyes open, and he was flashing in and out of sleep, never able to stay asleep for more than a couple of minutes at most. He could barely move, his limbs feeling boneless and immensely heavy, not wanting to work for him.

The whole act of reaching for a tissue and blowing/wiping his nose, was so exhausting, leaving him so drained. He felt so hot and bothered, his pyjamas soaked with sweat. But he was also getting cold chills, which left him shivering and shaking where he laid. 

One minute he was overwhelmingly hot, and then the other, he was freezing cold, wishing for his blanket which he had kicked off the bed.

He didn’t have the energy to sit up and get it; he barely had the strength to blow his nose, let alone do that, he thought as he broke into a coughing fit, his chest heaving and rattling with each cough. 

He just wanted to get some sleep, any sleep, he thought with a damp sniffle, a used tissue clenched in his hand. He sniffled again, before sneezing into his pillow. 

He brought the tissue up and dabbed at his nose, feeling too weak to do much else. The dirty tissue didn’t really work; it just spread the snot around instead of wiping it up. 

It felt like he was wiping wet sandpaper back and forth his sore nose. His upper lip was feeling the pain as well, seeing as his runny nose dripped onto it.

And he was breathing through his mouth, which was starting to chap and dry his lips out and in turn made them sore. 

He heard voices in the hallway, which sound like Scott and Virgil. Scott must have gotten back from his run, he thought, coughing as he glanced over at his clock. 

5:47 am 

Usually, six or six-thirty was the time Scott and Virgil would get them up for school, Scott getting up an hour earlier to fit in his morning run. John and Virgil woke up earlier than him or Gordon as well, but he knew for Virgil it was out of necessity, not a choice. 

He didn’t know if John was a morning person or not, he was normally gone by the time he woke up, as John had to catch a train into the city and be at his collage by eight at the latest. 

He sniffled, before starting to hitch, breaking into a loud and messy sneezing fit, which was followed by an equally violent coughing fit. 

The hallway went silent.

His bedroom door cracked open, causing him to look over with a sickly groan. Scott was standing in the doorway, his hair wet from his morning shower, with a concerned expression on his face.

“Allie, are you okay?” Scott asked softly, opening the door a little more. “You don’t need to be up yet sweetie..”

He blinked, his exhausted brain taking a while to realise that Scott, his big brother, was standing right there, but once it did? His face scrunched up, all of the night’s frustrations and sorrows rising to the surface. 

And he burst into tears, wailing loudly.

[bird-in-a-cage]

Zombie

Do not provoke the patient.

Do not touch the patient.

Do not ask any leading questions that could cause trauma to the patient.

If the patient touches you at any time you will be pulled from the room for decontamination and not permitted to return.

Do not pass anything to the patient. If caught doing so you will be arrested and charged with tampering with government properly.

Steve stared down at his hands on the table, under two layers of latex up to his elbows. He'd been forced to wash them three times until they were pink and raw. Thoroughly decontaminated.

When Max had handed him the very official looking letter, shaking with tears right in the middle of Family Video he knew it was serious.

He didn't think it would be this serious.

The room he'd been taken too was plain. Had no windows and only two doors. A table in the middle with two chairs. All of it bolted to the floor. It was cold stainless steel, not that Steve could really feel it through all the layers. Opposite was a large mirror that took up most of the wall. Clearly two way. The room behind probably full of officials and scientists, all very proper looking with ID badges and miles of abbreviations after all their names.

Apparently Neil had wanted to burn the letter. Ignore it completely like it never existed. Max had snatched it away and ran. Skitched behind a bus nearly the whole way with little care for safety. Robin read the letter first. Let Steve try and calm Max down somehow. The full severity of the situation hit home even harder when Robin's eyes blew wide, like she couldn't believe what she was reading.

Billy Hargrove was alive.

The room smelt overly sterile. Steve tapped his sneakers in plastic bags on the floor, waiting. They bounced hollow with no squeak. The door he hadn't come through was pushed open, and someone wearing a lab coat and a white mask walked inside with the ‘patient’. Set him down in the opposite chair on the other side of the table, and left without a word or even a passing glance.

Steve was shocked into silence.

This wasn't Billy Hargrove.

He remembered Billy being full of life and fire, eyes that could pierce at a thousand yards, a dangerous tanned frame, and a quick tongue within a mouth that was too smart for his own good.

The person in front of him was none of those things.

His hair was completely gone. Shaved short. His eyes looked black and bruised with fatigue, those once deep ocean blues sunk in and hidden, staring down at the empty table top. He was pale. Thin. Gaunt.

This wasn't Billy Hargrove. This wasn't the boy he'd known, had a whole secret life with away from the gossips of high school. Had spent nights with at the quarry getting high, drinking and talking, listening to mixtapes in each others’ cars. Playflighting about Billy’s love of metal and Steve’s love of anything that wasn’t. Making out in backseats in the rain.

This felt like meeting a stranger.

"I had a feelin' she'd ask you to come," Billy spoke. His voice cracked like it hadn't been used for a while. He raised his head and dared to smile, but it didn't look right. He felt forced and it was too big for his new face. Wasn't bright or menacing. Just felt like a mask. Hiding the pain underneath.

"She tried. Wasn't allowed in." Steve just watched as Billy rolled his shoulders in a silent laugh to himself, pulled his arms up with some effort to rest them on the table. They were lined with white scars and tracks, poked with obvious needle marks. His wrists were thin. Steve could see the tendons shift in the back of his hands when he moved his fingers. Rolled his hands into fists and released.

It made Steve’s heart fall into his stomach.

"H-how have you been?" Steve winced at his own question. It was obvious to see how Billy had been but he couldn't think of anything else to ask. Two days ago he, and the rest of Hawkins, believed Billy had died in Starcourt. The town chose to ignore the whole thing, not knowing the true story. It was just a terrible electrical fire that had spread too wild before it could be controlled. The government forbade Steve from talking to anyone about it aside from his specially appointed therapist once a fortnight.

It didn’t do very much. 

It’s hard to talk through being tortured by Russians in a secret underground base in the town that used to be your home but now just feels like a shell and all the memories you made there feel like lies. It’s hard to talk through fighting monsters and having to make split second decisions to either save your own life or a bunch of kids’ you barely know. It’s hard to talk through nightmares that are just endlessly long tunnels and a snarling noise and rows and rows and rows of teeth dripping slime clamping around your face and eating you alive soft parts first.

It’s hard to talk through losing the one person who understood you inside and out, even if you never completely opened up to them, but you just didn’t have too because you were both on the same page of the same chapter of the same book somehow. And that was all that mattered.

Steve had slowly made peace with the fact he was never going to see Billy again. Quietly. Alone in his home that he now felt like a ghost walking through. Acting like nothing had happened. It had taken months but he was slowly getting over his fear of the dark again. Was getting over waking up alone again.

Seeing Billy though, even as small and un-Billy like as he was sat on the other side of the table in a strange building it had taken three hours driving through the middle of nowhere to get too, with Max in the passenger seat bouncing her knees and going between wanting to throw up, cry or just scream out the window, had ripped open every wound Steve had tried to let heal.

It was the most alive he’d felt since July.

“I’ve been better,” Billy answered, with a small coy smile. “Been worse too.”

Steve blinked and he was back at the mall. Back when it was all over. The air thick with gunpowder and smoke. A single wail of despair echoing from a soul too young to deal with something so horrible.

They were all too young to deal with something so horrible.

Billy on the ground. Lifeless. Nearly torn in two. Cold eyes at the sky. Covered in black and blood. Laying in a puddle of indistinguishable fluid.

Yet here he was. Clean. Breathing. Alive. Eyes still bright despite obvious pain. It was a miracle.

"How?" Was all Steve could think to ask next. 

Billy shrugged, bony shoulders within hospital clothes. A pale mint coloured loose fitting top and matching pants. He didn't have shoes.

"I try not to think about it. They say it's not good for me to think about it. Causes too much stress."

They. The government. Doctors. The Russians. The monsters that could still very well live under Hawkins. The monster that was inside Billy the whole time unseen by those who should have cared enough to notice.

Steve would never forgive himself for that.

"But I fell asleep there. And woke up here. Only way I can put it."

It was November now. Thanksgiving was in two weeks. Billy had been three hours away for five months. If the letter had never been sent no one would have ever known. If Neil had burnt it no one would have ever known. His eyes flashed dull for a moment, dragged down to the table keeping them apart, looking at his own reflection or trying not to get pulled into remembering something awful Steve couldn’t tell.

His fingers itched within the layers of latex. To just reach over and touch and confirm this was all real and not some crazy hallucination. To feel Billy, alive Billy, breathing Billy again. Hold Samson and will his power back. Will all of this to be over for good. Kidnap and smuggle him out of here somehow so they could run away from nightmares and monsters and Hawkins forever. Start again somewhere where it never got cold. Where they could both get tans and be happy.

“Max says hi,” Steve said instead, keeping his hands between his knees. “Well, she says more than hi…”

Billy chuckled like a cough, matching Steve’s eyes. “I figured.” He slowly rubbed his chest like every heartbeat was aching.

Do not ask the patient about any procedures.

You have been asked to come here to stimulate cortexes within the patient’s brain. Sight alone should be sufficient but we understand you may wish to exchange a few words.

“Do you know if you’ll ever be out of here?”

Do not ask any leading questions.

Billy���s face fell. He tapped his fingers on the table. Thinking. His voice was small and sad. 

“No.”

Steve released his hands from being clamped down where it was safe and put them on the table, slowly inched over until it just barely touched Billy’s fingertip. Blue eyes sparkled a little. Felt like home seeing them like that again.

Do not touch the patient.

“I miss you,” he said quietly, forcing down a self pitying sob, focusing straight ahead. He heard a door behind him swing open. Billy rolled his hand over the latex. Squeezed tight. The door behind Billy swung open too. The doctor started coming towards them.

Do not touch the patient.

“I miss you too. Tell Max I love her, okay?” Billy smiled so genuinely as he put his hands up in surrender. Looked like he was practiced in that movement now. He was marched away without a glance back. The door was closed sharply and it was like nothing had ever happened. 

Steve had just spoken to a ghost.

Outside in the car Max was still in the passenger seat, waiting for news. Steve’s hands were even pinker after more decontamination cleaning. They tingled but he still felt the weight of Billy’s hand somehow. Felt the slight compression. She stared wide eyed at him getting in and slipping the keys into the ignition so they could return to Hawkins and pretend none of this had ever happened once again. One more lie wouldn’t hurt.

“He’s okay.” 

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Three

Words: 4.8K

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, angst

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"Viv?" I barely hear her voice as Tansy gently nudges at my shoulder, worriedly, while I'm staring at the TV after calming down from hyperventilating, my mind starting to collect itself as my sorrow begins turning into pure rage. 

"Vivian." Her voice becomes crystal clear and I'm shoving her away from me, into the floor, as I scream, "don't fucking touch me!" 

"Vivian, I'm sorry!" She pleads. "We couldn't tell you!"

"We?!" I grit out. "Who the hell has known about this?!" 

Her silence is speaking volumes and I roll my jaw, stomping to the door with her crying motivating my anger further. 

I'm banging on Tommy's door, hearing him and Nikki chuckling, and the second the door opens, I'm grabbing the full Jack bottle out of Tommy's hand and throwing it at Nikki. 

"How could you let this happen?!" I shriek at him, tears of anger streaming down my face as I start picking up everything in sight and throw it at Nikki. "What have you done, Nikki?!" 

"What the fuck, Vivian?!" Nikki's yelling back at me as Tommy tries to get me under control, but all I have to say is, "Me, God, and everybody just saw your fiancée brag about getting to marry you," and Tommy's stumbling back in shock, the look on his face is the same as Nikki's and they know they're all fucked. 

"Vivian--" 

I shut Nikki up by throwing a bottle of wine at him, missing him, but it smacks into the screen of the TV, causing a loud banging noise as glass goes everywhere,  before I'm grabbing a stray heel off the floor that one of the groupies left here with Tommy, hurling it at him and it hits him in the face, hard. 

"How could you do this to me?!" I cry out as he starts trying to walk to me, trying to keep his anger low, but I get away from him, throwing a hotel lamp at him, only for it to shatter on the wall behind him. "What did I do to make you hate me so fucking much, Nikki?! To make you pursue another girl--one of my friends--so fucking hard that you propose to her?! Am I just that fucking forgettable?!" I'm throwing dirty dishes Tommy's used tonight, all of them breaking when they miss Nikki by merely centimeters, hitting the wall. 

"Vivian, fuck it off!" He barks and I grab Tommy's switchblade off the nightstand, throwing it next, and it barely misses Nikki's face. 

"I hate you!" I say back. "I fucking hate you!" 

He's pouncing before I can grab anything else, tackling me to the bed, holding at my arms.

"I have done nothing but dedicate the last six years of my life to you, asking you 'how high' every time you have told me to fucking jump, trying to help you the best I could, and trying to keep my shit together for you and this is how you repay me?!" I'm overcome with sadness once more, a wave of sobs drowning me, and I try to get him off of me, hitting at his chest.

"Viv--"

"--How long has this been happening?! How long have you been fucking her?!" 

"Vivian, stop before you get us kicked out." He orders sternly, trying not to raise his voice anymore. 

"I am humiliated!" I wail out, pain threading through every layer of my voice. 

"What the fuck is going on?!" Fred and Doc come in with Tommy, I didn't even notice Tommy had left. 

I take a few breaths, pushing Nikki off of me and he stumbles back after I shriek, "Get away from me!" and sit up on the bed. 

"Vivian--" Doc starts. 

"Shut up! I don't wanna fucking hear another word because it's all fucking bullshit!" I seethe at him. 

"Vivian, we can talk about this calmly, because screaming--" 

"--No! I've had everyone's foot on my throat for the past four years, telling me how to act, how to look, how to make sure he's happy, and it just took less than 45 seconds for her to blow every fucking thing to fucking hell and let me know I did all of it for absolutely nothing!" I say through thick tears, bubbling anger starting to rise within me again.

I'm suddenly lunging and clawing at Nikki's face and neck before I can stop myself.

"Vivian!" Nikki hollers, his face bleeding as he tries to swing at me but Doc blocks him, yelling, "both of you calm the fuck down!" 

I'm starting to breathe quickly, my whole body feeling heavy as Fred and Doc keep us separated.

"How the hell did this happen?" I ask him, more so demand.

"Vivian," Doc says, catching his breath. "We'll talk about it later."

"I just found out…" I can't bring myself to say "my husband's been cheating on me" without feeling like I'm going to vomit. "...and you just wanna talk about it later?" I ask him, appalled and he looks at Nikki. 

"I'm not…" Nikki trails off, shaking his head, looking as if he's about to cry before heading to the door and slamming it shut. 

"Oh, God, please." I beg, holding at my aching chest, my eyes squeezing closed as tears topple down my cheeks. 

"Come with me." I hear Doc lowly say to  Tommy. 

"Viv," Tommy slowly starts and I shake my head at him. 

"You were suppose to protect me." I hold back a sob. "You've always protected me and when I needed you to the most...you  were suppose to protect me and you didn't." I finally muster out and tears break over his lashes.

Before he can say anything, Doc's leading him out of the room, leaving me with Fred. 

"Vivian," Fred says, genuinely concerned. 

"I-I-oh, God." I can't make myself speak, tears and snot running down my face but I don't care, and he nods as I shake my head a little.

He just grabs one of my hands, squeezing it, comfortingly. 

We got kicked out of that hotel and because of my tantrum, we had to pay them back for the broken lamp and TV, but I didn't care. 

 I had done everything. Everything I could, everything I was told to do, and it still wasn't enough. I still wasn't enough. My best still wasn't enough.

I lay on the bathroom floor of our new hotel with the door locked, not crying as extensively as I was, but it's a steady stream of tears puddling on the floor, as everything I overlooked runs through my mind. 

Those nights I'd come home to see Vanity passed out in my house, the way everyone would get a little uncomfortable when she would hint at something and I was the only fucking one that didn't think anything about it...the fucking "V" tattoo on his arm that he played off as a five, when he just as easily at least could've have said it was for "Vivian" or something. Anything. 

"You are the world's biggest fucking idiot." I whisper to myself. "How could you be so stupid?" 

I'm so tired, I've been crying for the past four hours, but anytime I try to sleep I can't. It's not because I'm on the floor and I'm uncomfortable, but because my mind won't quit replaying every scenario there is imaginable of Nikki and Vanity touching each other. 

A one night stand would have been something I'd still be shattered over...but an entire relationship?

I don't even want to know how long it's been happening. 

I just want to sleep. 

"Vivian." I hear Vince say from the other side of the door and I sniffle, not wanting to talk to anyone. "I'm sorry, alright? But what the fuck did you expect? We're rockstars. It's common sense how we live. You should have known Nikki wasn't an exception to that, when you married him." 

"Get out!" I scream at him, getting all the strength in me to open the door and shove at his shoulders to the room door. 

"Vi--"

"--Leave me alone!" I demand, snatching the room key from him before opening the door and pushing him out, slamming it shut, resting my aching forehead against the cool wood. 

I try to take deep breaths to calm down, but I'm unable to. 

I slide down the door, my mind continuing to race.

I couldn't sleep at all.

My eyes, nearly swollen shut from crying for two days, are glued to the screen of the TV set before me, Doc, Fred, Nikki, Tommy, Vince, Mick, Tansy, Sparkie, Donna, Emi, and everyone else at risk of being asked about this shit show by the press, as a recording of Vanity's interview is replayed to us.

"Yeah, I'll be Vanity 6 once again. Isn't that nice?" 

 "I heard that--now, Nikki, uh, he's not ma--"

"--Mötley Crüe." She states what he's known for and cuts Arsenio short. 

"Yeah, I read about Nikki in, uh, Fresh Magazine."

"Oh, no, you've read about him." Vanity says, causing the audience to laugh uncomfortably along with Arsenio. 

"Is he here?" He asks.

"Texas. He's in Texas." She explains. 

"He's in Texas with Mötley Crüe."

"Right." She nods. 

"And they're probably partying with some chicks up in the room." He jokes, trying to carry on as smoothly as possible with this whirlwind she just dropped.

"Oh, I'll kill him." She laughs out. "I'll kill him." 

Again, everyone laughs. 

"When are you getting married?" 

"Oh, probably December, maybe Christmas, maybe New Years, we haven't decided." She replies. 

"Are you--you seem like you're in love, you're very bubbly, you're glowing." Arsenio points out and she nervously rubs her forehead. 

"Oh, I--I know, I feel stupid, I know. I look stupi--"

"--No, no, that's great." He argues politely. "And this ring is something else." He states as he looks at it. "You don't get no crackerjacks with this, I mean that's a nice ring." He chuckles, along with her and the crowd. 

Doc stops it there, anger of the highest degree on his face as he glares at Nikki, who's got his sunglasses on and refuses to even look my way. 

"I told you--" Doc stops talking for a moment, nearly shaking, having to take deep breaths. "--when you got together with that coked out bitch to not be--" he loses it, throwing his bottle of water at the wall, "--fucking messy!" He yells. "We have done everything we could possibly do to help you and what do you do in return? Bend all of us over and just," Doc thrusts his hips forward a few times as if he's screwing a girl, "fuck all of us!" 

Nikki let's out a heavy breath.

"Her sister called last night and that ring she's flashing around, Sixx, is Viv's." Doc states and I feel my bottom lip shake as more tears come to my eyes. "You can't tell me you didn't play a part in this shit. You can't. Vanity's crazy, but she didn't just wake up one day and decide to say she's engaged to you. You helped prompt this. You can't tell me you didn't." He points at Nikki and Nikki sits quietly. "Jesus fuck." Doc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Okay. This is what we do. I've been on the phone for the past two days with the office, the label, Vanity's people...and everyone agrees that playing this off as a misunderstanding on Vanity's part is the best option." He tells us. "What she said about being engaged to Nikki is-is technically right thanks to his fucking smack and crack binge that lead to that bright fucking idea--but instead of accusing her of lying, we'll say it was a 'misunderstanding'." Doc replies and I squeeze my eyes shut. "It could get ugly for us if you two are at each other's throats over this, publicly, so you two are just gonna have to play nice for the cameras and hash this out behind closed doors." He adds. "Because if we say it was a misunderstanding but you two are having issues, they'll know we're bullshitting."

"What if I want a divorce?" Nikki--Sikki--boldly asks and Doc clenches his jaw while I brush away tears as quickly as possible, playing it off. 

"You can split when this tour is over, that way you can blame it on something other than asking another woman to marry you while you've been married to the girl you've been with since 1981 for four fucking years."

I'm too exhausted to protest the idea of staying with him until the tour ends. 

I just want to go home. 

"So if anybody asks any of you about it 'no comment' the fuck out of them. And if you absolutely have to say something other than 'no comment', you laugh a little bit to make it seem like it's nothing, and tell them--verbatim--'It was a complete misunderstanding.' And if I find out anybody doesn't answer with one of those, word for fucking word, you're done." He threatens in a serious tone. 

I've never seen Doc this mad. 

"Do I make myself clear?" He asks us and everybody nods...except me. "Viv?"

"I want to go home." I tell him. 

"If you go home right now, it'll look like something's up--"

"--Something is up." I let out hoarsely and everyone lets out a sad breath. "I just want to go home for a couple days." I say, my voice cracking.

"Not like it's gonna do you any good to run home. They knew about it, too." Sikki mocks me, referring to Duff and the guys. 

"Dude." Tommy says to him as if wanting him to shut up. 

I just get up and go to walk out of the room, stopping in front of Nikki, getting in his face.

"Burn in hell." I say and he turns his head to look at me, smirking. 

"That's the dream." He replies.

I get out as fast as I can, Fred following after me, and the second I get out, I'm throwing up, hoping nobody in there heard, especially Nikki. I feel like his inner evil fucking psychopath junkie will delight in my discomfort. 

He was angry because I refused to see him after he had tried to get Fred to convince me to speak to him. 

I didn't know what to say to him, and I didn't want to hear anything from him, yet. 

I just needed to get away from him for a few days and think about what I wanted to do. 

Did I want a divorce? Did I want to pack my shit from the house and never go back to him on tour and send him the divorce documents in the mail? Did I want to try to fix things? Did I think things could even be fixed at that point? I didn't know what to do, other than go home.

I finish packing all of stuff into my suitcase as Fred comes in, clearing his throat. 

"Look, I, uh...I talked to Doc. He decided it's a good idea for you to go back home for a couple days and come back with a clear head--well, as clear as it's gonna get." He explains. "But, the Rolling Stone dude is still coming on this week, so Doc wants you gone no longer than three days." He adds.

I completely forgot about Rolling Stone wanting to do a big issue on Mötley Crüe's tour in the midst of everything that's happened recently. 

"Which of course now, they're definitely chomping at the bit to get to nitty-gritty on everything and if you're not here, that's gonna send off some red flags, according to Doc." He explains and I let out a groan. 

"But Doc's currently getting you a flight for this early this evening, and I'll drive you there and we'll get someone to pick you up." 

I don't reply, letting out a breath and he gives me a small smile. 

"It'll be alright, Viv." He assures me. 

"I've been telling myself that since 1981. Nothing's fucking alright."

Going out in public was a mistake from hell.

 Every reporter outside of the airport here is shouting "Vivian" followed by invasive questions about Vanity and Nikki, and I'm happy I have my sunglasses on so they can't see me about to burst into tears. 

"Vivian, are you going home to file for divorce?!"

"Is Nikki and Vanity engaged?!"

"Are you and Nikki divorced without public knowledge?!" 

"Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?!" 

"We were under the impression Vanity was your friend?!" 

"Is this a polygamous relationship?!" 

"Do you have any comments on the recent bombshell about Vanity and Nikki?!" 

"Bless their hearts." I reply with a sarcastic smile, damning Doc's little gag order. 

This causes them to start popping off my questions like a swarm of piranhas.

I'd be hearing about that comment I made, from Doc,  the next day.

I'm praying there isn't a swarm of press outside as I make my way to the front exit of L.A.X., but my prayer is answered, kind of, when I only see Axl waiting for me with Duff's car. 

We don't say anything to each other until we get to the first stop light on the road. 

"It's fucking shitty we didn't tell you--"

"--Axl, I don't wanna hear it."

"No, let me finish." He demands. "Look at me." 

I sigh and glare at him. 

"We wanted to tell you, Viv."

"Then why the hell didn't you?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, matter-of-fact, without a doubt, if one of us came to you and told you Nikki and Vanity were seeing each other, you wouldn't have lost your fuckin' mind?" 

I don't say anything. 

"We've been trying for months to get him to leave her alone, or come clean to you, and he'd just say, 'I'm working on it'. We had no idea they were that fucking deep into it."

I roll my eyes, my eyes blinking back tears.

"I'm being serious--Viv, hey." He says and I look at him. "If we would have known that, that's how you would have found out, we would've told you sooner. I swear to fucking God, Viv, we woulda told you sooner if we knew that's how you would've found out." He promises. 

This is possibly the most sincere I've ever seen Axl.

Which lets me know he's being honest. 

No matter how angry I am at them, they didn't tell me to save my feelings. 

Their intentions were pure, but horribly executed. 

When we get to the Franklin, we walk in to see the guys in the living room of Axl's place, watching cartoons. 

I don't say anything to Izzy, Duff, Steven or Slash, and none of them try to speak to me once Axl gives them the look that says I'm not in the mood to speak about anything. 

"I'm gonna shower." I say, taking myself to the bathroom with my stuff, locking the door behind me.

I shower, then proceed to stay in there, avoiding everybody and everything, until I hear a soft little knock, and Stevie's voice.

"H-hey, Viv? We got some food...if you're hungry, I mean." He says on the other side of the door and I exhale.

"I'm not hungry, Steven." I say, sniffling, wiping tears away that have been flowing since I turned the shower off. 

"Are you gonna stay in there all night?" He asks next.

"It's my business if I do." I snap back and he lets out a breath. 

He doesn't say anything else, I just hear him walk away. 

Steven, as nice as he always has been, had no problem setting someone straight if needed. He was never aggressive with me, because I usually stayed on his good side, but if someone rubbed him the wrong way, he'd get in their face and ask them what the fuck their problem was. I expected him to break into that bathroom and ask me what my problem was, but he knew what my problem was, I guess…

...Izzy on the other hand…

"Izzy, what the hell?!" I yell as the door swings open after he picks the lock. 

"We're fucking pieces of shit and the assholes they come out of, I get that. Axl gets that. Stevie gets that. Duff gets that. Slash gets that. We understand collectively that we are gross for not telling you. But we didn't tell you in hopes your dumb-fuck husband would wise up, like we have all been trying to get him to do, and break things off with the bitch. But he didn't. But we were hoping he would so we wouldn't have to witness your firey wrath sent straight from the gates of fucking hell. But we are anyway, apparently. We tried dropping hints. Countless hints. Obvious hints but you were too busy getting fucked by cupid and having a too perfect view of love to notice. But we tried. Extensively. If we knew she was going to embarrass you like that, we wouldn't  have kept it from you, at all. But it's too fucking late now, and we can't do anything about it except just be here for you, I guess, but you coming home and being a bitch to us for not telling you something that would've been so fucking obvious to you if you would have paid a little more attention, is fucked. Next time we'll just tell you he's fucking one of your best friends and rip the fucking bandaid off." He says to me, stunning me. "Now quit hogging the bathroom because some of us need to use it."

I can usually take Izzy's tough love, but this time, I can't.

"I gave her a key to my house." I say randomly, more tears coming to my eyes. 

"No, no, you're suppose to tell me to go fuck myself." He says. 

"And the codes to our gate and...24/7 access to my husband, and I was too fucking stupid to realize I was just letting her have him anytime she wanted him." I choke out.

The door cracks open a little to reveal Duff behind Izzy, and he cautiously steps to me, hugging me tightly to him.

One thing I was beginning to realize: the first thing I said to Nikki was, "how could you let this happen?"  

 I was beginning to see that it wasn't meant as a "how could you let yourself do this to me?" but as a "how could you let her embarrass me like this?"

I knew something was up, subconsciously, I had this feeling that I knew something but I didn't know what exactly I knew until I was publicly humiliated over it.

I spend the rest of the night not speaking to anyone, not necessarily because I'm still angry, but because I'm just not in a talking mood. 

By the time everyone else is going out, Duff and I are heading back to his place so I can try to sleep. 

"You can have whatever side of the bed you want." He lets out, a little awkwardly being that we haven't spoken all night. 

I nod, going to the side of the bed I slept on the last time I stayed here. 

He looks as if he wants to say something else to me, but chooses not to as I get into bed with him, turning my back to him, hoping to get some form of rest, but even a couple hours later, it never comes. 

I lay next to Duff, his soft snoring sounding through the small room, his bare back to me, and in the lights from the street that are filing through the window, I can see the smattering of acne scars along his back, and I can't stop my hand from reaching out, grazing over them. 

He moves a little in his sleep and I let out a breath, tired of being awake with my own thoughts that are just overflowing with whispers of Nikki. 

I wish I was in bed next to him. 

I wish he never would have done what he did in the first place. 

I wish I wouldn't have been so naive.

I wish I would have listened to my gut before we got married. 

Finally getting tired of it, I pull myself up and stumble to the kitchen, looking around until I find a bottle of NyQuil syrup.

I take the correct dose of it to maybe help me sleep before going back to bed. 

 "Will you quit it?" I grin, chuckling as his lips brush against the space between my shoulder blades as he hovers over me while I'm laying on my stomach at the foot of the bed. "I'm trying to finish this." I add, referring to the blank paper before me and the pen in my hand. 

"You weren't worried about writing it for the past two hours." He teases, peppering my bare back in kisses and I giggle, trying to worm him off of me."You're almost done with school, what's one missing paper gonna hurt?" He questions. 

"It'll hurt when it counts as a chunk of my final grade and I haven't even gotten a thesis statement figured out. And if I when I bring home a crappy final grade, I don't think my mom will appreciate, 'I couldn't do my thesis paper because I was too busy fucking your worst nightmare that I snuck in through my window'."

He lets out a scoff, kissing my skin one last time before I'm turning over to face him, still holding the pen and paper in my hand laying above my head, my other hand tracing over his cheek.

"I can write it." He says after a moment of thinking and I furrow my brows. 

"Write what?" 

"Your paper." 

"You want to write a thesis for paper for twelfth-grade English?" I have to stop myself from laughing.

"Sure." He shrugs. 

"Didn't you drop out of school?" I question and he snatches the pen and paper out of my hand and sits up, grabbing the book I was using as a hard surface to write on. 

"If I can write a song, I can write a thesis paper." He states and I raise my brows. 

"Whatever you say." 

My eyes slowly blink open, and my whole body starts hurting again, gut wrenching pain that's suffocating my heart in a stronghold as my swollen eyes start to weep again. 

"Oh, God, please. Please, God." I beg, trying to be quiet enough not to wake Duff up. I'm not sure what exactly I'm praying for, I just know my spirit is crying out for mercy and relief of any kind. 

He spent a couple days writing that paper, collecting sources and proof to back his thesis statement: 'The way today's christian and conservative groups view and sacrifice secular music genres, specifically rock n' roll, and the artists within those genres, is completely counterproductive of the teachings of who they worship because their approach is judgemental and belligerent.' I just copied it word for word in my handwriting and kept his original work of it which is framed and hanging in our house today.

Those were the main memories that would replay in my dreams: us when we first started fooling around and slowly seeing each other exclusively.

Small little things that just added more reasons to why I was so in love with in to begin with.

Things we completely lost sight of by 1987. 

Those were the ones that would hurt like hell to wake up from.

I'm unable to fall asleep again, so I take another dose of NyQuil, and wait for it to go in effect. 

I fell asleep, but woke up every couple hours, and immediately started crying each time, not forgetting I was heartbroken in the slightest because I'd dream of Nikki. 

I'd just lay there saying, "God, please," not knowing what I was praying for him to do.

And, in a slightly irresponsible and reckless attempt to go back to sleep to stop the pain,  I'd take another dose of NyQuil every time, not thinking anything of it because it was an 'over the counter' drug. After taking four maximum doses of the stuff in a 6 hour period, my body started freaking out.

My heart is pounding in my chest, my breathing trying to compensate for what feels like an inability to get enough air as something in me is telling me to wake Duff up.

"Duff, Duff." I gasp out, shaking at his shoulder and he wakes up, confused, tired eyes looking at me. 

Apparently it just takes one look at me to wake him up fully, because he's sitting up as fast as he can. 

"Something's not right." I say breathlessly. 

"Viv?" He asks, at least I think that's what he says.

His hand suddenly grasps at my wrist, his fingers on my pulse point, and his eyes widen. 

"We gotta get you to a hospital." He replies as calmly as he can, but I can tell he's frantic in his mind.