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elegiesforshiva · 2 years

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HI!!!!! firstly, i hope you have been able to sleep a bit better :( if not, i wish you more awesome cookie eating and zelda playing :) - kae pt. 1/?

i just wanted to say that when you sent out that very first ask about how lovely my messages were with all of your super cute emojis (i’m on my computer so it’s a little harder to send emojis haha) and how you would try to reply as soon as possible and just how much they meant- AHH my heart felt so full and my smile widened across my face!! you’re so cute!! i’m so happy they could provide a bit of brightness to your day. i hope they continue to provide you warmth like an infinite bonfire with toasty marshmallows ehehe you don’t ever have to apologize for taking the time you need to respond!!! (apologize appreciated, but totally not needed!!!) thank you for sharing the tidbits about your process with asks like these! i’m like that too where sometimes i just need to read it and let my brain and being sit with it and mull over it before i can properly feel up to hashing out something back. when i was reading your response to my messages and hm how do i say this - it makes me feel like i have lovely company right by my side … but through my screen LOL. i only hope that others continue to give you so much love and check in on you from time to time and continue to read your awesome stuff!!!!!! i really do appreciate from the bottom of my heart how much love you put in your response right back - from dissecting sasuke’s existence as a victim/abuser to into/sakura’s relationship. again, i just think you’re deeply intelligent, kind and in touch with your personal psyche and are able to articulate your perspective very powerfully, and it shows in the way you respond to people on your blog/in comments and through your writing! /I/ am so happy to mention all the awesome things - and there’s so many other things that i haven’t brought up, but truly Ghosts is such a gift because there’s so much to process in it, and every time i sink my teeth in it, i come out with something else entirely. sometimes i feel like i go into zombie mode but instead of saying “brains.. braaaiinnss” i just go “writing… sooo… GOOOODDDD” and i mean this in the best of ways! like it makes me truly speechless and flabbergasted LMAO again i’m SO sorry for being like “i’m so excited that you’re going to continue writing” i was silly and was just looking through the #sasusaku tag and then assumed the most recent one up was the most recent update and i had already sent my ask and was like uh oh i should scroll through the blog thoroughly to see what is ACTUALLY up - GAAAHhHHH. my apologies again about that TvT and UH HUH i mean this in the KINDEST way possible but literally you have NOTHING to thank me for. there is no patience i am giving you - i feel like not expecting anything from writers in terms of updates, etc. and being on their side when a fic might not get completed is the bare minimum and anyone who says otherwise can be sent MY way (where i will put them in fic 101 boot camp and tell them to write and hopefully by the time they’ve been booted all the way through they will realize how much time and work goes into writing for FREE. i am blowing my figurative whistle at them right now and wearing a shirt that says “kae’s fic writing bootcamp”). i could rant about how readers have no sense of empathy and only have a sense of entitlement yadayada but long story short - you’re awesome. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise - they can tell ME

i’m really sorry to hear that things aren’t so hot - and are only hot in a turd on fire kind of way. i really hope that you are able to get an apartment and get that quiet even if not to write, but just to have some peace in the palm of your hands. (as i’m typing this, i feel my heart beating and my fingers tingling as i try to put into words what i want to say - interesting. kinda freaky. kinda magical. i don’t think it’s quite how i wanna word it but this is what i’ve got). i don’t know if you believe in a higher being out there - weirdly enough i don’t either, but i as a random stranger on the internet, do promise to you that you’ll get there. There is a safe space that you belong to that you will be able to come home to, where you can sleep and meet your dreams and wake and have them walk with you. Your hopes for how i'm doing brought another big smile to my face. i’m really lucky in my life.tThere’s a lot of people that i love and i am loved by a lot of people and for the first time ever I’m really aware of that and it’s a really cool feeling. Sending all of my love right back to you - I’m blowing some kisses your way. MUAH MUAH MUAH <3 - kae pt. 10/10

I hope you know this was an absolute blast to read the first time and it’s no less great as I’m rereading. I’m sorry I definitely don’t have the time right now to give as much love as you gave me so long ago. Thank you for sending this, I need you to know I’m feeling AAAAAAALL the hugs through the screen rn, and have been since you first sent this 5 million years ago lmao. Thank you for them!!!!!!! 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰

I hope you didn’t actually feel too bad or embarrassed, I still love hearing about how much people adore Ghosts!!! It was my absolute heart for so long and I never get tired of hearing how much people like it!!! I am really glad I could give what I did of it...thank you for loving it as much as you have, and for giving me that love directly in my ask box too...💘

Fandom culture is honestly such a ride right now?? It’s changed so much, and I want to stab western consumerism in it’s small nutsac because I know it’s contributed to a lot of the shittier parts that have been manifesting, including the entitlement of readers from fic authors like you mentioned. I really don’t know how younger creatives are keeping up with these pressures. I don’t know how anyone is.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH *falls onto my knees and sobs* I forgot how hopeful about my life I was when I last responded to your messages.......pretty sure the crash from those turn of events is what made me wanna dig a hole and never come out of it again. Yeah, the apartment isn’t happening but thank you for the well wishes and all the sweetness though—you’re literally so obscenely kind lmao I love how fun and lighthearted your energy is in these, you’re a darling and I already know anyone who has you in their life is very lucky to.

Thank you again for all the praises, well wishes, all the love...There was honestly so much positivity in here lmao. It really means a lot to have someone say this to me, it startles me receiving it sometimes. I want you to know I’m giving it all back tenfold!!! I genuinely find a lot of my readers from Ghosts come from a higher level of emotional intuition and processing, probably because of the heavy and dark nature of that fic, but it’s just so cool to see me moving the exact sort of people I instinctively love and admire with my work. I love the arts. I love them endlessly... Sending hugs and kisses kae!!! Sorry for less emojis this round, I’m on desktop too! And also sorry for the long ass wait, I really hope you’re doing amazing these days 💕 💞 💓 💗 💖 🥰 🥰

#smooches!!!!!#love notes

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creepling · 3 years

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am i not enough? (quackity x reader) - apocalypse!AU

( 。・_・。)人(。・_・。 ) | part of the @quackisinnit 1k event !

THE PROMPT IS . . . “ AM I NOT ENOUGH ? “

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader (apocalypse!AU)

word count: 3,306

summary: the reader and alex become a duo while coming across each others paths during a zombie apocalypse. tensions rise as they set up camp in a warehouse, where alex begins to confess how he feels towards the reader. (angst into fluff <33)

tw: zombie apocalypse, blood (ment), cursing, guns, death, eating.

It had been three months since the fallen of mundane life. Three months of complete abnormality, everything known to be in existence that was worth caring about; completely gone. jobs, currency, education were becoming a historic relic. The world was put back to zero. Instead of cavemen and dinosaurs, the new species of flesh-eating corpse’s roamed in packs and seeked for fresh meat. They may have been slow, but they travelled in numbers and they could smell you from a mile away. I learned that your scent became less of a problem when you didn’t keep hygenic. My stence blended with the earth and blood and the roamers didn’t catch us out as much; so we used that to our advantage.

I only had one companion, his name was Alex. He was absolutely dumbfounded when I discovered him. I raided his abandoned home looking for supplies, and when I had to kill a roamer that vacaded in his bedroom; I found him curled up in a ball under his bed. He told me that he had been hiding the whole month when he realised help was to never come; so his only plan was to hide out until he ran out of supplies. That became a problem when I attempted to take them. We made the mutual agreement that if I was to take the supplies, he would come with me. I refused to stay and hide; that is how you get yourself killed. Thankfully he agreed to come with me, and we have been inseperable ever since. However, our bond is nothing close to a friendship, we just had to stick together to survive.

Alex’s main idea was to find a group, hoping by now someone had turned one of the surbubans into a mini civilization. We had travelled between three cities however and we found no sign of good company. As a duo, we have only killed one human within these three months. A man who tried to kill us at gunpoint in hopes of taking our things, to which we scarsely saved our lives by ducking behind a bar table. With one aimless shoot, I shot my gun and it pierced through the man’s chest. I saved our lives, but the sight of the man’s lifeless eyes still haunts me in my sleep.

One night, Alex found a two-store warehouse to shelter in while on a supply run. He suggested we camp on the second floor and catch up on our sleep and starvation, since we eventually got ahold of sleeping bags and tinned food. I agreed, but reminded him the stay can’t be perminant. He agreed also, still fixated on the idea of finding a commune.

While I made a fire and cooked food, I obvserved Alex drawing in a notepad. I failed to make out what he was doing so I asked, “What are you drawing?”

“I’m trying to draw a map.” He said to me, “It’s not accurate, but it will give us a rough idea of the roads until we find a map.”

“I didn’t take you as a smart person.” I said, hoping he didn’t think I meant it seriously. It was rare for me to joke in times like these, but when I did, my humour came off dry. Thankfully, my comment made Alex scoff out a chuckle.

“And I didn’t take you for a fighter.” Alex said. Since being with each other for two months, we both naturally adopted different roles that benefitted us. Alex was the navigator, the finder; he seemed to have a good sense of direction and I relied on him to not get lost. He also had a good eye and was always good at finding things such as second-way exits or food hiding in obscure places. For me, my job was a lot more physical. I was a good shoot, I knew how to make a fireplace, or bandage a wound. When things got dirty, I would get lucky and save our asses.

“Your food’s ready.” I said, handing him his warm can of chicken soup and a packet of chips. He thanked me, putting his notebook down and sitting cross-legged beside me. As we ate we sat in silence, the only sounds in the warehouse being our mouths chewing the food. We hadn’t ate in nearly a week. I tried my best to chew my chips before swallowing so I didn’t end up with stomache pain, but the instant flavour shot through my tongue and I instinctly ate them quickly. Alex finished his food within minutes, licking the chip packet and his fingers; scraping every last bit of soup from the can and into his mouth. I reluctantly did the same, feeling a little embarrassed; I have never felt so starved in my life.

“That was fucking amazing.” Alex sighed out, now heating his hands over the fire. I nodded in agreement, collecting the empty tin cans and keeping them next to our things. They will be handy for traps, tying them with strings and hanging them in the woods while hunting would let us know of intruders. It was the small things like that that has made us survive this long.

“Are you gonna go to sleep now? I could keep watch.” I offered, observing Alex’s bloodshot eyes. If we had mirrors, we would flinch at our reflections. Alex looked rough. He always wore his beanie, which he apparently did even before things got bad. He always had a collective spot of dirt on his nose and cheekbones no matter how clean we were, it’s where it always collected the most. His hands were the most dirty, dirt under his short nails and inbetween his fingers. From the rare occasions we touched hands, I felt the softness of his hands, compared to mine that felt aged and rough. His knuckles were stained with blood. Out of both of us, I was covered in the most blood. When I looked down, my hands had a reddish tint, observing more I could see small cuts on my hands from being idle with my knife when striking roamer’s heads. Without having to see, I knew I had sprays of blood on my face from the amount of times I killed roamers. To think when life was normal we cared so much about our appearence, but now activities like doing makeup, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth seemed so pointless. We were slowly becoming used to primitive life and deep down that scared me. I think it scared Alex too.

“I’m tired as fuck, but I know I won’t sleep.” Alex said in a low tone, looking at his hands full of shame. I nodded my head in understanding, knowing exactly how he was feeling. We hadn’t slept properly in months, instead when one person kept watch, the other just lay down with their eyes closed. We forgot what it was like to dream, or to feel hazy. We were constantly alert.

“Since we have no intention of sleeping. Why don’t we play a game?” Alex said. I cocked my eyebrow up in question. What game could we play that didn’t involve making noise and attracting attention?

“We ask each other 20 questions. Normally if you don’t want to answer a question- you would have to do a dare. But hey, wants the point in hiding nowadays?” Alex said, looking at me contently.

“We should be hiding ourselves more than ever, I think.” I said, adding fuel to the fire to keep it burning. “That way no one knows our weaknesses.”

“So you don’t trust me?” Alex said. His question threw me off. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, but maybe I was unwilling to get to know him. I had already lost the people close to me, and I was still in grieving. I was too afraid to get close with Alex. I always had the thought in the back of my head that one day, I might end up losing him. His intelligence may only get him so far.

“I understand.” Alex said, taking back his question. Seeing the hurt in my eyes, he must have realized what I was thinking. He lost his close ones too. We both lost so much, we had a mutual understanding about that. Yet, I looked at Alex, and he still felt like a mystery to me. He always pulled out jokes, even in times like these. However, in moments when he thought I wasn’t looking, I could see the pain concealed in his face. Sometimes I even heard him cry at night when he thought I was sleeping. Maybe it was about time we opened up to each other, instead of feeling like we need to suffer alone. We could be there for each other not just physically, but emotionally.

“Okay then, since it was your idea, you ask the first question.” I said, hugging my legs to my chest. Alex smiled a little at me, going into thought as he tried to think of a question.

“So, what did you do when life was normal?” He asked first.

I let out a sigh then replied, “I had a very normal life. Lived with my family, did average in school, worked a job to get money. I actually had plans of moving out to the city, I always wanted to go to LA. I never really had aspirations, just wanted to be content.” It sounded boring, but I was happy with my life. I had my ups and downs like everyone else. “What were you like?”

Alex smirked and looked away from me, seeming to become bashful. “I was a twitch streamer.” He said. “And had a Youtube channel. God- it sounds so stupid now that I say it. Like it was all pointless-”

“Were you like- famous?” I asked, trying to conceal a smile.

“Um- I guess you could say that. I had millions of followers.” Alex shook his head, “But I also went to college. I was studying law. I was always staying up late, barely sleeping; both studying and streaming all the time. It took up my whole life, that I just kinda forgot about everything else.”

“Well, you were obviously not famous, because I didn’t know who you were.” I jokingly said, nudging his side. That seemed to make him smile and feel less embarassed.

“So how the hell did you learn how to shoot if you lived such a normal life?” He asked.

“I just learned while doing it. My dad kept a gun.” I admitted, looking at the very same gun I had in the holster wrapped around my thigh. “He would teach me now and then how to use it, but I was never a shooter. The more roamers I shot, the more I got used to it.” Thinking about someone close to me made me chew the inside of my cheek anxiously.

To deflate my melancholy, I asked the next question. “Did you always wear that stupid hat?”

Alex chuckled and rubbed the top of his hat. “Yeah, twenty-four seven. I don’t why, I just find it comfortable. My “fans” would joke that I was bald because I never showed my hair.” He said, “God- saying the word fans sounds fucked up . . .”

“Maybe you’ll bump into one of them.” I said, “Heck- maybe there’s a commune right now dedicated to you, trying to find you and keep you safe.”

Alex laughed again, covering his face with his hands. I laughed alongside him, the first time I genuinely laughed in a good few weeks. Looking at Alex, seeing how I uplifted him, it struck a chord with me. As much as I didn’t like to show it, but he made affects on me that were indescribable. He made me feel just a little more contempt, without him I would probably not be able to cope for this long. We eventually locked eyes with each other, Alex’s gaze being longer than I expected. If it wasn’t for the blood, my face would have exposed the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Have you ever fell in love, (Y/N)?” Alex then asked me, which set me aback. The question was out the blew and I think Alex realised that as he looked away shyly, his gaze fixated on the flames of the fire to avoid my gaze. I still stared at him, almost in amazment, trying to conjuct a reasonable answer.

“I don’t know.” I answered. “I have loved people, yes, but- I don’t think I have been in love. You’re suppose to know when things like that happen, right?”

Alex didn’t answer me, he kept staring at the fire. I found myself admiring his side profile, watching how he slowly bit his lip; concealed in thought. I noticed how the glow of the flames contrasted with the darkness of his eyes, how the light outlined his complexion. When I realized I was staring for too long, I looked away, instead my eyes looked out the warehouse window, my eyes tracing the stars in the night sky.

“I feel like I have known you forever.” Alex admitted all at once. “It’s only been two months, but I have gotten close to you more than anyone I have in my whole life. It might sound crazy but- I believe we were suppose to come together that day.”

My gaze turned back to Alex when I felt his eyes lay upon me. His stare was soft, something I only seen in passing times. I was able to admire him for the first time since we met. In this moment, in the dead of night, away from danger and suspicion; I could look at him with full sentiment. I didn’t need to admire him when he was less suspecting it, afraid of receiving decline or making things awkward. In this moment I realized, I may have developed feelings more than companionship towards him. That excited me. But also terrified me.

“I feel that way with you, Alex.” I admitted, “But . . .”

I decided to choose my words carefully. This conversation was heading in a direction that made me nervous. The world is falling apart around us, and I couldn’t help but question our motives. We should be focusing on survival, not developing a relationship that could be destroyed at any second. Once we step out this warehouse, our chances of losing our lives become high. I wasn’t prepared to damage my mental state, it was already bad enough. I realized my long pause was making Alex shift nervously, so I looked at him in hopes my words would slip from my mouth.

I caved in, muttering lowly, “We should get some rest.” I got up on my feet and was ready to grab my sleeping bag and make up a place to rest, until I heard Alex get his his feet and say words that made my heart sink.

“Am I not enough?”

When I turned to look at him, the hurt was glistening in his eyes. He gulped dryly and he fumbled with his fingers. My eyes shifted from side to side as I was stuck with my words. I kept stammering, and I rubbed my face in stress, ready to plead my case. Until Alex jumped in.

“Don’t think I’m only saying these things to you because there is no one else, (Y/N). I have been thinking about this for a while, everytime I am left with my thoughts. I am certain I will still have the same feelings if we met when things didn’t go to shit. I don’t just think this because we have been the only people for each other. I really really like you, (Y/N). And because of the way the world is, I never want to lose you. I never want you to feel alone ever again. I not only want to protect you because we’re a team, I want to protect you because the thought of losing you pains me so much.”

For a split second I thought Alex was about to burst into tears. That was when I did something I thought I would never do again, which was pull him into my embrace. I hugged Alex so tight that I heard him gasp, freeze, until he eventually wrapped his arms around me and held me just as tight. My face buried into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his body, his soft hands caressing my back and brushing his thumb down my spine in a soothing manner.

“You are enough, Alex.” I said, my words muffled by his body. I reached my lips to his ear so he could hear my words clearly. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to like me, or be forced to like me just because we were brought together. I was afraid you thought you were stuck with me.”

I anticipated the day that once we meet other life, Alex would slowly fade away and forget who I was. Once he meets other people, we would go our seperate ways. I never knew why the hypothetical idea pained me so much, until now. As Alex pulled away from my embrace, looking me in the eyes in a loving manner that was foreign to me, his hands on my shoulders, I realized why that idea made my heart feel heavy. I never want him to leave me, I want him to always be by my side. Alex’s gaze was enough proof that he wanted the same.

Stimulated by his touch, I was taken aback when I felt his hand cup my cheek. The warmth of his breath breezing against my cheek, I inhaled as if oxygene was nonexistent. I never realized the proximity between us was slowly closing in and when I did my eyes fluttered shut. Alex hesitated for a split second before pressing his soft lips against my own. My neck bent slightly backwards and I shifted my head to the side to deepen into our kiss, my blood-stained hands grabbing the edges of his open jacket and holding him dearly close. The heat of the kiss intermingled with the heat from the fire, my cheeks and ears grew hot. Alex’s hands were surprisingly warm as he reached his hands under my shirt, pressing his fingers and palms on the middle of my back before running his touch down my spine. My breath became shaky and I felt my legs grow heavy under me, my hands cupped the back of his neck to keep myself uplifted, and luckily Alex’s arms held my weight and pressed my body against his. It felt like hours had went by between our lips moving in sync, our tongues grazing our bottom lip’s, our hands moving and resting on different parts of our bodies. His touch felt contagious, his kisses ranging between soft and passionate. I didn’t want to stop, I never wanted to let go. Between kisses I would mutter you are enough, you are enough which made Alex smile against my lips.

That night, everything we had to worry about became last priority. The focus all throughout was each other, making up for the days where affection couldn’t be shown. In the dead of night, there wasn’t a roamer in sight. Instead of hearing narls and groans or screams of pain, there was only the faint sounds of nature. The full moon glistened, as if to be a prediction for the emotions spilling between us. I promised myself from this moment on, as I admired Alex, I would protect him no matter what. I will make sure he always feels safe as long as he is beside me. He will always be enough, if not more.

TAGLIST: @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069 (join my taglist)

#quackity x reader #irl!quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #gender neutral reader #quackity x gn!reader #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #youtuber imagine #quackity angst #quackity fluff #apocalypse!AU #mcyt apocalypse au #quackity apocalypse au

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twst-bs · 3 years

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TWST Dorm Leaders and an Anxious MC

This is the first piece of written specifically for this blog!

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Riddle: Had they broken a rule?

Even if Riddle had improved by leaps and bounds in the anger management department, he still held his rules in high regard. And the way his brows furrowed when he looked at them from across the table, was he angry about something? He couldn’t exactly punish them - they had no magic to lock away, and they were a dorm leader in their own right, so he didn’t have any right to discipline them, but what if they had done something on a personal level? Offended him in some way? They had barely mastered social cues in their own world, what if they messed up in Twisted Wonderland? What if -

...Riddle had said something, and was clearly waiting for a reply. In their internal panic, they had missed whatever it was.

“I-I’m sorry, Riddle, I was kind of zoning out. What did you say?” Were there rules against zoning out? Probably, that seemed like something that would annoy him.

“I asked if you were alright.”

“...Huh?”

Riddle set down his tea cup - it was a pretty, delicate little thing, gilded gold along the edges and handle, with roses painted beneath the rim. His mother would be mortified if she knew he was drinking strawberry milk tea with an ungodly amount of sugar out of it, Riddle had once said with a small, almost sheepish smile. That same mouth was now downturned as he regarded them with concern in his wide gray eyes.

“You seemed to be under a lot of stress lately,” he spoke slowly, like they were a frightened animal. Maybe they were. “Is everything alright? Are you sleeping well?”

They weren’t, but that was more of a side effect of their stress than the cause of it. They idly tapped their fingers against their own tea cup, a matching one to Riddle’s. They had been drinking lavender tea in an effort to calm their nerves, but it clearly hadn’t worked.

“I’m fine, promise,” they grinned, hoping it looked convincing.

By the way Riddle’s face scrunched up, it did not.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I know I’m not the best at handling emotions, but if I can help in any way…” Riddle trailed off, looking embarrassed.

They felt their stomach twist in horror. These little tea parties were the highlight of their week, a little moment of reprieve for the both of them to just relax and enjoy each other’s company. And they had gone and ruined it because they couldn’t figure out how to human properly.

“I’m sorry!” they burst out. “I’ve been so anxious lately, and I haven’t been able to sleep, and I’m worried about my grades slipping because I don’t know the first thing about magic and -”

They didn’t even notice they were starting to spiral until Riddle had reached across the table and grasped onto their hand. Their chest was heaving with barely-contained sobs, and they weren’t sure if the trembling they felt in their hands was theirs or Riddle’s.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured. “Deep breaths, now.”

He was parroting what Trey would tell him to help him calm down, they knew, but it was good advice. They knew that he had talked Riddle down from many an anxiety attack before, but the fact that Riddle, someone who suffered from severe mental health problems, was the one calming them down made something sour begin climbing up their throat.

“I-I’m making everything worse…” they mumbled, squeezing Riddle’s hand tighter. “I should be able to handle this without freaking out, but…”

Riddle reached out and brushed away a tear they didn’t know had fallen away with the back of his knuckle. “I know better than anyone how it feels to be under pressure.” he sighed. “Please, don’t think you have to deal with all of this stress on your own.”

Leona: “Will you sit still for five minutes?”

They hadn’t thought they had been making that much noise. Certainly not enough to wake Leona up from his nap, that was damn near impossible. So either the floorboards in Ramshackle dorm were worse than they thought, or Leona hadn’t actually been sleeping.

“Sorry,” they mumbled, staring down at the worksheet in front of them. They had been trying to finish this homework for hours, and the incantations were starting to blur together. What language were these even written in? Were they in the demonic section or nature section?

Leona sat up from where he had unceremoniously plopped himself on their bed. “You’re fidgeting like a rabbit, herbivore.”

“So you weren’t sleeping after all.”

“Hard to sleep when I can practically smell your anxiety.”

“Then go sleep somewhere else.”

Leona clicked his tongue, sounding annoyed, but they both knew he secretly enjoyed it when they got snappy with him. Not a whole lot of people had the guts to give him sass, and he liked having someone to verbally spar with. “And miss watching you squirm?”

“I’m not squirming.” they bit back.

“So that chair squeaking was just the ghosts, then?”

“Maybe.”

They could practically hear Leona roll his eyes, but they still didn’t take their eyes off of their textbook.

“Staring a hole into the page isn’t going to solve the equation.”

“How do you know?”

“Shut up and get over here.”

That made them look up. Leona had stood up, motioning them over with a tilt of his head. “You’re taking a break.”

“But -”

“You’re. Taking. A. Break.” he punctuated his words by grabbing the back of their desk chair and pulling. Just enough to jolt them, they could tell by the way the chair stopped that he was purposely holding it steady. Even so, they couldn’t help the small noise of surprise they made.

“Leona, I have to finish this!”

“You’ve been staring at the same page since I got here, you aren’t finishing anything.”

Subconsciously, they knew that taking a break would probably be good for them. But the part of their brain that was panicking about failing was telling them that if they took a break they were essentially giving up. And giving up wasn’t an option.

“Herbivore.”

The soft growl in Leona’s voice snapped them out of their thoughts. Leona had gone back over to the bed, flopped onto his back with his arms splayed out. To anyone else, it looked like he was just lazing about, but they had been with him long enough to realize that this particular position was an invitation.

It was then that they realized just how sore their neck and back were from being hunched over their desk. And how badly their eyes were burning from staring at the miniscule writing in their textbook. And how their legs and arms were one wrong move away from cramping because of how tense they had been.

...Okay, yeah, maybe a cuddle break was in order.

Leona grunted when they plopped on top of him, face buried in the crook on his neck. “Shit, herbivore, that hurt.”

“Suck it up.” they muttered, internally melting a little when he brought his arms up to wrap around them.

“Tch,” again, he sounded annoyed, but they knew better. “Learn to take better care of yourself.”

Azul: There was so much stuff to do.

Even if Crowley made sure they didn’t have to worry about money, a lot of the responsibilities of dorm upkeep still fell on them. They had to buy groceries, clean the whole dorm, make sure the place didn’t fall apart, follow Grimm around and make sure he hadn’t scorched any curtains...and that was all after they had done the assigned homework.

All things considered, they did a pretty good job, but sometimes they laid awake at night thinking of all of the things that needed to be done. Which left them in a less-than-ideal state for class the next day.

Gr-gr-grmmble…

They winced, hoping no one heard that. They had slept soundly through their alarm this morning, to the point where Grimm had to slap them awake, and therefore didn’t have time to snag breakfast. And it was really hard to focus on Trein’s droning lecture when they were both hungry and sleep-deprived.

Ace looked at them out of the corner of his eye with a raised eyebrow, but thankfully didn’t say anything. It might have been because the last time they got busted talking in class the spiel from Trein had been worse than if Riddle had just collared them, but still.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Trein dismissed the class. They still had Alchemy before they could go grab lunch, and even though mixing potentially explosive potions in their current state seemed like a terrible idea, Grimm skipped class enough. They didn’t need to add to his track record. So, feeling distinctly zombie-like, they made their way through the halls towards the alchemy lab.

Maybe they could dash by Sam’s shop really quick and grab a protein bar just to hold them over? No, Trein had yammered on until the last possible second, and they only had a few minutes before their next class started. There was no time. Maybe -

“Oof!”

“Whoa!”

Well, that’s what they got for not watching where they were going. Their books clattered to the ground as they ran headfirst into someone.

“Ah, damn, I’m sorry,” they bent down to pick up their books. Now they really were going to be late.

“Are you alright?” they looked up to see Azul stooping down to help them. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine!” they grinned sheepishly. “Just wasn’t paying attention, is all.”

Azul frowned, picking up their Alchemy textbook before straightening. “You look exhausted. Another rough night?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Pale blue eyes widened and Azul flushed red. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” he stammered, “I just - I merely - “ he cleared his throat, quickly recomposing his gentlemanly demeanor. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

“Relax, Azul,” they laughed, standing up from their crouched position. “I was just teasing you.”

“Must you do that in public?”

“Are you saying you like it when I tease you in private?”

“That is not what I said.”

They laughed again, reaching for their books, but Azul held them out of reach. “Hey, come on,” they pouted. “I’m going to be late.”

“Seriously, are you alright? You look kind of pale.”

They sighed. “I didn’t sleep very well last night, and then overslept this morning, so I haven’t eaten anything. Happy now?”

“Not really, no.” Azul frowned. “Come on, I’ll treat you to lunch at the lounge.”

“But I have class.”

Azul kept walking, and they had no choice but to follow considering he still had most of their books. “I’m sure Crewel will understand if you miss one class. You have an otherwise perfect track record.”

“How do you know that?” they asked. “We don’t have any classes together.”

“I have my ways.” Azul smiled cryptically at them.

“Which one of them was it?”

“Jade.”

“Knew it.”

Kalim: “...and then, there was this one time, the baby elephants broke out of their cages…”

They wanted to pay attention, they really did. Kalim was a great story-teller, even if he was a bit all over the place. And stories from a magical noble family, no matter how mundane to Kalim, were always fascinating. They could sit here and listen for hours.

Well, usually, anyway.

Nothing in particular was wrong, really. They had just woken up feeling off. It could have been anything. They could have had a weird dream, they could have forgotten something minor, the planets could be slightly unaligned, it didn’t matter. It was just an off day, and they were feeling it.

“...hello? You still in there?”

They nearly hit the ceiling when Kalim snapped his fingers in front of their face. Where they had been sitting there being anxious about trying to figure out what was making them anxious, Kalim had crawled across the floor where the two of them had been having lunch in his room. He had wanted to have a picnic on the flying carpet, but Jamil had put his foot down. Literally, he had stood on the carpet so Kalim couldn’t ride it.

“Sorry!” they yelped, almost knocking their tea over as they were forcibly brought back into the present.

“You looked kinda worried there,” Kalim frowned, quite an unusual look for him. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” they looked down at their lap and bit their lip to stifle a gasp. While they had been worrying, they had subconsciously been picking at the skin around their fingernails. There were a couple tiny drops of blood beading up around their nail beds. Maybe Kalim wouldn’t notice?

“Hey, you’re bleeding!”

Damn.

Kalim’s expressive, ruby-red eyes went wide and he lunged forward to grab their hands. “When did that happen? How did that happen? Do you need to go to the infirmary?”

“Kalim, I’m fine, there's barely any blood.” they sighed, gently prying their hands away from him. “I do that a lot.”

“You just randomly start bleeding?!”

“No, Kalim,” they laughed softly, shaking their head. “I pick at my nails when I get anxious.”

Kalim pouted, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “You’re anxious? Why are you anxious? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, it isn’t you, I promise!” they idly swiped at their nails. The places they had picked open had already closed. “It’s just...it’s a thing. I just have anxiety in general, is all.”

Frowning, Kalim sat back down in his original spot. “Isn’t there a way to fix that?”

“There’s a few ways, but none of them are quick.” they shrugged. “I was doing better, but suddenly coming here brought back a lot of my old habits.”

“Hm…” Kalim stared at them intently before the apparent storm passed and he brightened up again. “Well, we’ll just have to get you new habits to replace the old ones!”

“I...don’t think that’s quite how that works…”

“Here!” Kalim reached down and took a bangle off of his wrist. It was gold, with an elephant charm hanging off of it. With a big, eye-closing grin, he handed it to them. “When I was little, I used to get scolded for squirming a lot, so my mom told me to play with a small toy instead of running around. I know it’s a bit different, but maybe, instead of picking at your fingers, you can play with the charm instead? Would that help?”

For a moment, they were quiet, just staring at the shiny gold bracelet in their hand. Then, a small smile split across their face. “Yeah, I think it’ll help.”

Vil: “You haven’t been sleeping.”

“Hello to you too, Vil.” they sighed, flopping unceremoniously onto the stone bench beside him. Usually they at least tried to hold themselves to a higher standard when they were with the Vil Schoenheit, but they just didn’t have the energy. “How could you tell I haven’t been sleeping?”

“Unless the undead look is a new fashion trend, but bags under your eyes are very telling.” he reached over to tuck their hair behind their ear, both in an affectionate gesture and to get it out of the way so he could assess them better. “You’re also breaking out. Are you stressed?”

“Isn’t everybody stressed?”

“Don’t get existential, just answer the question.”

They huffed, letting their head rest on the hand that was still at their ear. “Yes, okay, I’m stressed, happy?”

Students were watching the two of them on their way through the gardens, but Vil paid them no mind. He had plenty of practice at ignoring the masses. “We’ve discussed this, haven’t we? Mental health is just as important as physical health.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” they closed their eyes, unable to look at him.

“I didn’t mean that to be scolding,” this time, Vil sighed. “Just a reminder that you need to take care of yourself. Maybe a spa day is in order.”

That did sound nice. “Can we do hair masks?”

“Of course, my dear.”

Idia: “Big Brother, you have a guest!”

Idia fought the urge to groan when Ortho popped his head into the room. Why did people always have to bother him on raid night?

Just as he was about to tell Ortho to send whoever it was away, a second head appeared.

“Hey, Idia.” the Ramshackle prefect sounded drained, enough to make him type a quick “AFK” into the chat and turn to them.

“Everything...alright?”

They stepped fully into the room, returning Ortho’s cheerful wave before closing the door and collapsing face-first onto Idia’s bed. “There’s too many people out there.”

“Mood.”

“And they all want me to do stuff for them.”

“Also mood.”

“So can I hide in here for a little? Please?” they turned their head to look at him with pleading eyes. “I’ll be quiet, I know it’s raid night.”

Idia turned to glance at the screen. The team he had gotten saddled with this time around was garbo - three tanks and no healer, honestly - so he was fairly confident they weren’t finishing the dungeon. Shaking his head, he clicked a few buttons and the screen returned to his desktop.

“Bunch of losers anyway,” he mumbled, getting up from his chair. “Wanna play something else?”

“Can we play Skull Girls?”

A few moments later, they were sitting side-by-side on the bed with the opening for the game playing on one of Idia’s monitors

This was what they needed. No people besides the two of them, no lazy Headmasters asking them to take care of problems way beyond their physical and emotional capacity, no chaotic cats threatening to light everything on fire. Just a nice little break.

Slowly, careful, so as not to startle him, they leaned over until their head was resting on his shoulder. He tensed, but his hair didn’t turn red, so they counted that as progress.

“Thanks, Idia.”

“N-N-No problem.”

Malleus: Okay, so this probably hadn’t been one of their better ideas.

Sleep just wasn’t happening tonight. All of the things they had to worry about kept running through their head, and every time they thought they were about to drop off, something else popped up. Eventually, they had given up and decided to take a walk.

Unfortunately, they had completely forgotten how cold it could get at night. Even with the jacket they had pulled on over their pajamas, they were shivering.

“You’re up late.”

The deep voice startled them, but they managed to compose themselves before turning around. “So are you, Tsunotarou.”

Malleus Draconia smiled softly at the nickname, looking absolutely ethereal with the small green lights flitting around him. “It’s dangerous to be out alone at night, Child of Man.”

“The gargoyles will protect me.” they said cheekily. Malleus chuckled.

“And what of me?” he asked. “Do I not get the honor of protecting you?”

“You can fight the gargoyles for the honor.”

Again, Malleus laughed, before noticing the subtle tremors that wracked the human’s body. “You’re cold.”

“This wasn’t my best-laid plan.” they sighed, tugging their jacket closer to their body. “I always forget how cold it is at night.”

Malleus hummed before opening his arms. “Come here, then. I’ll keep you warm.”

They hesitated for a moment before stepping into his embrace, sighing as his body heat seeped into their being. “Wow, you really are warm.”

“Dragons run hotter than humans,” he explained, tugging their head beneath his chin. “It’s why I have no trouble roaming around at night.”

“Lucky.”

“Well,” he murmured. “I’ll simply have to accompany you on your nighttime adventures to keep you warm.”

#twisted wonderland #disney's twisted wonderland #twst riddle #twst leona #twst azul #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twst malleos

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scabopolis · 3 years

Note

Ummm because my brain could never come up with something as genius as yours, I will ask—nay, BEG—for more LoVe Vampire AU from Day 1 AU week.

Title: do not engage (part two of this little ficlet) Rating: PG-13 (some swears…because girl is still stressed) Pairing: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars, Additional Tags: Secret identity, vaguely vampire hunter related things, filed under: relationship obstacles, sharing of bagels, vampire Logan is probably far too schmoopy, tried to write angst but whooops I think it's fluff? Word Count: 1,800

For you, dear, @ayy-ohh? Anything. This one really got me stuck because...like...world building? What is that? And would vampires eat bagels? And why DOES Logan have a cell in his basement? So many questions. Anyway! Here it is! *** That she can’t remember ever seeing Logan Echolls in the daylight should have been Veronica’s first clue.

It’s just, given the nocturnal demands of her profession and thus her morning grumpiness, it was easy to miss. Easy to be grateful for. Easy to be relieved that Logan wasn’t like her college boyfriend—the kind of guy who insisted they wake up at 6:00 AM to go running and felt a day spent inside with the shades drawn was a day wasted.

There were, of course, other clues she missed.

Weirdly cryptic statements and obfuscations. (Given she was also prone to said crypticism, she didn’t press for fear he’d do the same.) His reticence towards beach days. (It seemed logical! Who doesn’t hate dodging tourists?) The weird way he’d linger at doorways of unfamiliar houses. (Again, given her own antipathy to socializing, his hesitation was something she understood.)

In retrospect, given that not pressing Logan on his vague answers landed her here—in a weird cell gnawing at the ropes her ex-boyfriend tied tightly around her wrists—she supposes she should have tried harder. She hears Logan’s footsteps on the stairs into the basement but doesn’t stop her attempt to undo the knots.

“I hope you have a good dental plan,” Logan says. She rolls her eyes and continues to work at the strands with her teeth. “Is there even a vampire hunter’s union? Might be something worth looking into. Though, given the general mistrust the position requires, electing a president might prove tricky.”

“God, staking you would have at least gotten you to shut up.”

“But then there’s the crushing guilt.”

“I would have managed.”

Do not engage. In the 36-ish hours she’s been in this cell, that’s been her motto. The secret to coping with the fact that your boyfriend is a vampire and that you and your dad are vampire hunters is to remain detached and cold.

Except it hasn’t been easy. Because her wrists hurt, she smells bad, and oh yeah, apparently she’s not as out of love with the bloodthirsty monster wearing the hell out of a henley and holding a bag of takeout as she thought.

“I got bagels,” he says.

As soon as he says it, the scent of cinnamon raisin wafts from the bag. He doesn’t wait for her to stand; simply slips the paper bag containing her bagel through the bars and slides it to her. Much like he’s done for their previous shared meals, he sits on the ground a safe distance from her and settles into eating his own.

She tears the paper bag and sees that not only has Logan brought her a bagel, he’s also brought her some sort of sandwich and a chocolate chip cookie. God. What an asshole.

What is his endgame here? If he wanted to kill her, he would have done it by now. It’s only a matter of time until her dad begins to question whatever story Logan texted him from her phone. Her dad will show up and he will have questions. What will Logan say then?

“What will I say to who?” Logan asks.

Shit. Detachment is also easier when inside thoughts remain inside thoughts. “No one.”

“If you’re talking about your dad, he’s out of town for the rest of the week.”

She concentrates on the pattern of the cinnamon swirl laced throughout her breakfast. “What do you mean?”

“According to the text he sent you last night, he had to go to Vegas. Vampire gambling ring of some sort?”

“You’re lying.”

“Takes a liar to know a liar.”

Veronica rolls her eyes and takes a large bite of her bagel, surveying the interior of her holding cell. And yes, fine, she technically has a policy of not engaging with the pointy fanged one, but she has questions.

“What is the point of having a cell in your basement? Is it for weird sex stuff? Or weird vampire stuff?”

“Who says those two things are mutually exclusive?”

She rolls her eyes. “Spare me, please. I’m eating.”

“I’ll tell you but you won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“My friend, Mac?” He extends his legs out in front of him. “Once a month, this is her guest suite.”

Veronica frowns. “For weird sex stuff?”

He raises an eyebrow in amusement which, fair, she should probably stop using the phrase weird sex stuff.

Wait. Is he saying—?

“Logan,” she says carefully, “is Mac a werewolf?” He nods, and Veronica’s bagel drops to the floor. “Could you be more of a vampiric cliche? Honestly! Does a zombie do your taxes? Does a ghoul trim your hedges?”

“I trim my own hedges, thank you very much.”

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or it might be the remaining vestiges of adrenaline leaving her body, but Veronica laughs. Just a little bit. At best it’s a chuckle. Still, it’s enough to make Logan smile in that way he sometimes does—like he can’t believe his luck that he even gets to be in the same room as Veronica. It makes something feel heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. Do not engage.

“You really didn’t know?” she asks.

Logan’s answer with a slow nod. “I didn’t know.”

“Then how—?”

“It wasn’t an ambush, Veronica.” He pinches off a small piece of his bagel. (Sourdough, she guesses. Probably with jalapeno cream cheese because the man added jalapenos to everything.) She watches as Logan rolls the bread between his fingers. “The date was real but one of Dick’s friends recognized you somehow.”

“You were the one who threw me into a tree.”

“Yeah, and as far as they know, you’re dead. As far as they know, I was so enraged a vampire hunter tricked me that I took you home to finish you off.”

“Which means if you let me go—”

“They’ll know I lied.” He shrugs. “Either they kill me or your dad does. This way you’re safe.”

“Logan—”

“Sorry,” he says. “You called dibs on the killing?”

“Poor little vamp with a death wish.” She doesn’t mean for it to sound so fond. What is wrong with her?

The corner of his mouth twitches with a fleeting smile. There’s a ticking clock on their time together and now they both know it.

“I’ve never seen a vampire eat as much food as you,” she says.

He sets his bagel aside. “Dine with a lot of vampires?”

“Enough to know you eating that bagel is like me eating a bag of sour gummies.”

“Meaning?”

“You might like the taste of a lightly toasted sesame bagel, but an hour later you need to puncture the carotid artery of a single mother to really satisfy yourself.”

“You know sesame seeds get caught in my teeth. And single mothers come with too much guilt.”

“Hedge fund managers?”

“Now you’re talking.”

Veronica has questions, of course she does. More questions than she can properly express—wonders how old he is, who turned him, who gets him blood and how, why he’s friends with Dick Casablancas, if Logan is safe with Dick as a friend—but she doesn’t ask any of those. Because he asks the most important question first.

“What are we going to do, Veronica?”

She stands up, brushes cinnamon raisin crumbs off of her pants. (She catches a whiff of her unshowered self and cringes. So much for their farewell existing as a perfectly preserved memory in the mind of her undead ex-boyfriend.) “There’s no we, Logan. There can’t be.”

He can’t let her go, he can’t keep her locked up, and she can’t stay.

Logan pushes himself up off the ground and comes to meet her at the bars to the cell. “Yeah.”

“First, you’re going to let me out of here.” She wraps her hands around the bars. Logan does just like she’d hoped and does the same, his pinkies barely grazing her knuckles. “And then I never want to see you ever again.”

“That’s what you want?”

God. What a fucking idiot. Of course that isn’t what she wants. What she wants is to go back two days. To return to that night when Logan made pancakes for dinner, and they got drunk on rum and cokes, and then he kissed down her spine as they lay in bed.

She nods anyway. Presses her head against the bars.

“Fine.” Veronica squeezes her eyes shut. “If you ever need anything?” She nods again and she feels the gentle touch of Logan’s lips to her forehead. How is he always so warm? It never made sense.

“I won’t.”

And then, much to her surprise, he walks away. Without letting her out.

She opens her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he says, a portrait of portrait insouciance once more. “You didn’t expect me to let you go now did you? What if this show of emotion is a long con? I could wake up to find you standing over my body poised to pull back my black out shades.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Nighty night, Veronica.”

Logan doesn’t return to the basement and eventually she falls into a fitful sleep, waking up sometime before the sun rises. She definitely needs to pee and she’s so sick of the ‘toilet’ in her cell. Logan should still be awake. Maybe if she yells really—

Finishing that thought proves to be unnecessary because as soon as Veronica’s eyes adjust to the dim light, she notices the door to her cell is ajar. She’s barely thinking as she jumps from the bed and races up the stairs.

“Logan!” she calls out.

Her first stop is the kitchen, where she maneuvers a knife in between the strands of the ropes around her wrists and works to free herself. Her cell phone is waiting for her on the wireless charger Logan keeps in the kitchen. No messages from her dad, but she sends one to check in. She rubs at the tender skin on her wrists as she searches each room of Logan’s house.

As far as she can tell, there isn’t much missing. Some of his toiletries are gone (her toothbrush is still beside the sink) and she thinks maybe some of his clothes too. His motorcycle is still in the garage but the BMW is gone.

So. That’s it? He’s just gone? What about his house? There’s a housing crisis in southern California and this asshole thinks it’s acceptable to simply abandon a perfectly good home? He didn’t even leave a note.

It’s really the irresponsibility that—

Her call rings through to his voicemail. Rolls her eyes at the Dylan Thomas quote that greets her. That’s new.

“If you think I’m watering your plants for you while you’re gone, you are completely delusional.”

He responds while she’s in the shower. (What? She’s really supposed to put up with shitty water pressure at her place when he has a rain shower and heated bathroom tiles?)

Miss me already?

She responds with a garlic emoji.

#vm fanfic #lv fanfic #logan x veronica #veronica mars #logan echolls #still all the way out of my comfort zone!#but here we are! doing the damn thing anyway #never stories #otp: the one person #c: veronica mars #c: logan echolls #p: logan x veronica

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ultimatetrashyfanfic · 3 years

Text

Wooow, first time writing a fic for this fandom. I’m stupidly nervous. Also I only just finished SDR2 so I’m just gonna make this a Non-Despair AU in case there’s any big events in the next canon games I don’t know about yet. Plus i want everybody to be alive and well (chapter four hurt). This is also the first time in years I’ve written any fanfiction, so forgive me if I’m rusty. I do love this pairing. Can be taken romantically or platonic in this one (as this isn’t my only ship for Hajime so I tried to keep it ambiguous). - Circle

Also posted to AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/33332596

Warning: sickfic, descriptions of vomiting (I don’t go into much detail), nightmares/general anxiety.

Kazuichi was the only person Hajime knew with a worse sleep schedule than his own. For months he hadn’t realised - everybody had their own space on the island and Hajime was occupied enough with his own fatigue - but as Fuyuhiko saw how much Kazuichi grew to trust and confide in Hajime, he reported the issue.

“He’s like a fucking baby,” Fuyuhiko muttered bitterly. “If he gets tinkering on something he’ll be at it for days without sleeping. You gotta make sure he doesn’t overdo it. I can’t babysit that dumbass by myself.”

Hajime nodded, letting the insults sail over his head. Fuyuhiko may swear and yell and tell everyone over and over that Kazuichi and Hajime and Akane were the bane of his existence, but he was really the closest thing their group had to a mum friend.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Hajime promised. It was an easy enough job. At least it gave him something to do. Whenever Hajime found himself unable to sleep now, he’d go hunting for Kazuichi. More often than not he’d be at the airport, dismantling or building things as the mood struck him, and all Hajime had to do was hook his collar and ignore the whining as he dragged his friend away to bed.

But that night was different. Hajime could sense it the second he walked into the airport. Since the other students rarely went in there, Kazuichi had taken over the space, scattering bits of parts and machines in various stages of completion. But he wasn’t hunched over with a fiddly screwdriver or hidden underneath some big contraption with only his legs visible. He was sitting against a large machine, resting his head against the cool metal, his thumb rubbing at the motor oil embedded under his bitten fingernails.

That was concerning. Kazuichi was never still. He was forever biting his fingernails or twirling his wrench idly in his hands or messing with the pockets on his jumpsuit, dragging the zips up and down over and over. It used to drive Hajime mad, but after knowing Kazuichi for so long Hajime could recognise it as a nervous response and he knew not to complain about it.

Because kazuichi was fragile. Not physically - he could easily haul heavy engine parts around and didn’t buckle when Akane jumped on his back - but it was pretty easy to upset him. When Fuyuhiko had started mocking Kazuichi over his obsession with Sonia - “you gotta bully the shitty behaviours out of people, Hajime.” - it had led to Kazuichi knocking at Hajime’s cottage in the middle of the night, tearfully asking him why Fuyuhiko hated him.

Sometimes Hajime really wished they had an Ultimate Therapist on the island.

So now, looking across the abandoned airport to Kazuichi behaving in a very not-Kazuichi way, Hajime proceeded with caution. He made sure to step purposefully, his footsteps loud on the linoleum floor; he’d once surprised Kazuichi from behind and almost received a wrench to his temple… as well as a burst eardrum from the screaming.

Kazuichi looked up, hastily fumbling with his glasses and shoving them into his pocket. He hated anyone seeing him wear them, so Hajime knew not to comment.

Usually Kazuichi’s face brightened when he saw any of his friends, but now his smile was wary, reserved. “Hey, Hajime,” he said, his voice thick with fatigue.

“When was the last time you slept?” Hajime asked bluntly. “Or ate?”

Kazuichi turned back to face the hunk of metal beside him (unidentifiable to Hajime), though he still didn’t start tinkering. “Not hungry.”

“That doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“I slept yesterday. I think… It’s Monday, right?”

Hajime sighed heavily and hooked the collar of Kazuichi’s jumpsuit with his fingers. “Come on, get up. Bedtime. You’re not even doing anything.”

“Mmn. Can’t seem to focus tonight.”

“That’s because you’re exhausted. Go to bed.”

“Okay! Jeez, man, you’re acting like my mother,” Kazuichi whined, sounding more like himself.

The pair walked out into the cool night air together, Hajime taking hold of Kazuichi’s sleeve when he stumbled. Just how long had he been awake? He was acting like a zombie.

“Fuyuhiko said you weren’t sleeping,” Hajime grumbled. “You should take better care of yourself.”

“Fuyuhiko said it? So why did he make you come get me? Are you sure he doesn’t hate me?” Souda pressed.

“Yes, I’m sure. I told you, he was only harsh because he wanted you to leave poor Sonia alone.”

“Well. I have been, haven’t I?” he muttered.

Hajime assumed that was meant to be a rhetorical question, but it came out like Kazuichi was looking for reassurance. It hadn’t occurred to him how often Souda seemed to do that, as if he was worried anything he said would elicit a bad reaction.

“I’ve even been nice to Gundham,” Kazuichi said, much more irritably. “Though that’s a damn uphill battle, Hajime, I’m telling you. I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about half the time.”

Hajime snorted. Watching Souda trying to interact with Gundham was becoming a running joke between the other students now. There was always a five second pause when Gundham finished talking before Kazuichi could reply, his face contorted as he hastily tried to translate.

“You’ll get used to Gundham. I didn’t understand him much at first either.” Hajime frowned as Kazuichi wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. “Are you cold?”

“I’m freezing. Maybe I do need to sleep better. I’m not feeling so good…” He stumbled again as they went across the uneven boardwalk to the cabins, bumping Hajime’s shoulder.

Hajime caught hold of him instinctively - then paused for a second. He quickly cupped both hands over Kazuichi’s cheeks.

“H-Hajime?!” Souda reeled back so fast he almost toppled right off the platform. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You have a fever, Kazuichi,” Hajime groaned. “You’re burning up. That’s why you don’t feel good.”

“I do?” Souda cupped his own cheeks contemplatively. “Huh. That makes sense. I couldn’t focus properly all evening.”

Hajime sighed heavily. Souda could be so oblivious at times it was hard to believe he was so talented with his machines. He seemed so much more confident when he spoke about that stuff. When he’d started getting closer to Kazuichi, Hajime once asked about some little mechanical toy Souda was making - and Souda’s face had just lit up. He talked Hajime’s ear off for a good fifteen minutes about every little piece of the toy and how it worked. Hajime didn’t understand the majority of it, but he always made sure to ask Kazuichi about his various projects after that. Souda was delighted every time, his words tripping over each other with excitement and his eyes shining like beacons. For a second Hajime wondered if that was how it felt to be Sonia.

“Well, you’d better come with me for now,” Hajime said. “I know you don’t have any first aid supplies in your cabin, and we don’t need Mikan to tell us you have some standard virus. I’ve got painkillers and fever reducers.” Hajime held onto Kazuichi by the elbow, guiding him along to the correct cabin. He seemed beyond argument. He flopped onto Hajime’s bed as soon as they went inside, curling onto his side and closing his eyes.

Hajime hovered over him, feeling a pang of anxiety. He wasn’t used to caring for any sick people except Nagito, and caring for Nagito was a wholly bizarre experience all around. Hajime had never seen anybody swing so wildly between self-deprecating, passive aggressive and strangely clingy when he was forced to babysit a sick Nagito. Hajime figured Kazuichi might fall into the clingy category.

Hajime grabbed fever reducers from the bathroom cabinet and went to crouch beside his bed, shaking Kazuichi’s shoulder. Maybe it was the fever or the several days without sleep, but Kazuichi already seemed to be breathing deeper. There was a red flush across both his cheekbones, garishly bright against his pink hair. Hajime checked his forehead again; it was burning.

“Hey, dude, wake up. You’ve gotta take some medicine and go back to your own cabin,” Hajime said, shaking Kazuichi’s shoulder harder. Kazuichi whined irritably, reaching out a clumsy hand without opening his eyes. He managed to find Hajime’s face and tried to shove him away weakly.

“Kazuichi!” Hajime caught hold of his wrist, sighing. “You have motor oil on your hands. Look, I don’t care if you don’t want to take medicine, but go sleep in your own cabin. This happens to be my bed.”

Kazuichi didn’t move, breathing deeply. Hajime wasn’t sure if he was actually sleeping or just ignoring him.

“I kissed Sonia,” Hajime lied.

No response. Hm. Maybe Kazuichi really was asleep.

Well, what was Hajime meant to do now? He didn’t feel mean enough to boot his sick friend off the bed. He supposed he could go stay in Souda’s room, but he didn’t know where his key was, and he didn’t want to go rifling through Kazuichi’s pockets for it while he was sleeping - and maybe Souda needed somebody with him in case his fever got worse. Fevers could turn nasty, right? Not that Hajime would be any use, but he could go get Mikan.

Sighing resignedly, Hajime went to the unoccupied side of his bed, lying back to back with Kazuichi. Most of the bedsheets were trapped under his sick companion no matter now Hajime yanked them, but Souda was so hot Hajime was soon uncomfortably warm. The sleeping boy was taking up a lot of the bed too; he had Kazuichi’s hair in his face and elbows jabbing his ribs no matter what sleeping position Hajime tried. He sighed again. “You’re an utter pain to deal with, Kazuichi,” he mumbled into his pillow. “You need to take care of yourself before you get really sick.”

Hajime, though sure he’d never be able to even doze in this situation, must have slept at some point, because he woke with a start to find the bed shaking so violently he almost toppled off it. In his drowsy state Hajime wondered for a second if the island had any seismic activity, but the earthquake seemed confined to the bed alone. He sat up and fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned to his sleeping friend.

Kazuichi was shaking violently, curled into a foetal position. His face had bleached several shades whiter and his fists were clenched tight, crumpling the bedsheets. His brow was furrowed and he made intermittent whines in the back of his throat, barely audible. Whatever dream was playing in his feverish head, it clearly wasn’t a pleasant one.

“Kazuichi,” Hajime called, shaking the sleeping man’s shoulder. Hajime could feel the heat radiating through Kazuichi’s clothes. “Come on, man, wake up.”

When he received no response, he shook harder, momentarily panicked. It was a mistake. Kazuichi jolted awake with a scream, the momentum sending him tumbling right off the bed onto the floor. He banged his head hard on the skirting board.

“Shit! Fuck, Souda, are you okay?” Hajime cried, hurrying over to Kazuichi. Souda scrambled backwards in a panic, clonking his head all over again when he hit the wall. His eyes hadn’t focused yet and he was breathing far too quickly. Hajime was starting to think he really should fetch Mikan.

“Kazuichi, it’s just me. Hajime. You know, your…” He paused, cringing. Only Kazuichi ever called them by that dumb name. “Your soul friend.”

Kazuichi looked up, locking eyes with Hajime. He didn’t stop shaking, but his breathing calmed slightly. For what felt like several minutes, both boys stared helplessly at each, unsure what to do or say. Souda swallowed thickly and finally whispered in a hoarse, rasping voice, “I’m gonna puke.”

“What?” That certainly broke Hajime out of the awkward staring contest. He grabbed hold of Souda by the wrist and yanked him across the bedroom to the bathroom, shoving him firmly towards the toilet. He turned to leave - he didn’t want to witness any of that - when something snagged onto the back of his shirt.

“Are you serious?” Hajime groaned. Souda felt too nauseated to dare opening his mouth, but he tugged insistently at Hajime’s shirt.

Hajime paused. Part of him - maybe even most of him - really wanted to brush Kazuichi’s hand away and flee the room before anything gross started happening. But Souda looked so… pathetic, sitting there trying not to vomit, still shaky and tearful from the nightmare, his hair tangled across his sweaty face.

Damn it. Hajime shouldn’t have looked at him.

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, kneeling beside Souda on the bathroom floor. He hastily gathered Kazuichi’s messy hair away from his face as the sick boy leaned further over the toilet. “You owe me big time for this. Especially when I end up catching this from you.”

Grumbling aside, Hajime stayed, managing not to complain or pull too many faces when Kazuichi was vomiting. He focused on holding Souda’s hair out of the way, glad he had one job he could manage. This comforting thing was way out of his depth. Souda kept one hand reaching backwards to clasp Hajime’s shirt, as if he didn’t quite trust him not to run away.

When the retching finally tapered off, Hajime released Souda’s hair and reached up to flush the toilet, grimacing. “Better?”

Kazuichi made a noise between a whine and a sob, head resting on the toilet seat.

“Well, at least it’s over. I’m gonna go grab you some water, okay?”

He stood up, but Kazuichi hastily lifted his head, looking outraged. “You’re leaving me? I could be dying here!”

“You’re not dying, Souda. Honestly, sometimes I think you should’ve been Ultimate Drama Queen.”

“Stay with me.” Kazuichi shuffled away from the toilet and latched onto Hajime leg.

“Souda, it will take me literally thirty seconds to grab a bottle of water. Now get off.” Hajime tried to yank his leg free, but Souda had a strong grip, even when ill.

“Nope. Don’t leave.”

Hajime sighed heavily. “Then get up and come back to the bed.”

Souda slumped down onto the cool linoleum floor, making sure to keep his arms around Hajime’s ankle. “Don’t wanna move. Everything hurts.”

“Oh, for fuck sake!” Hajime tried to pull Souda up himself, but Souda let his body go limp, sprawling across the bathroom floor, and Hajime couldn’t lift him up when he was dead weight like that.

“You know that’s exactly what toddlers do when they don’t want you picking them up,” Hajime snapped. Honestly, this was almost as bad as Nagito. Why did everybody mess with him when they were sick?

“I can see why. It’s very effective,” Kazuichi muttered.

“I could just leave, you know. Just say fuck it and let you lie there on your own.”

“Don’t.” The jesting tone had disappeared from Souda’s voice. He looked close to tears again, flat on his back and staring up at Hajime pleadingly.

Hajime tried to hold onto his frustration, but he couldn’t. Not with Kazuichi looking at him like that. He sighed and sat on the floor beside Souda, putting a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Keep your hand there,” Kazuichi mumbled. “It’s cold.”

“Fine. But if you let me leave I could get you a cold cloth for your head.”

“Noooo…”

“Okay, okay.” Hajime paused. Souda’s eyelids were drooping again. If he wanted to ask, Hajime had to do it quickly. “Hey, Kazuichi..?”

“Mn?”

“What happened? Earlier, I mean.”

“I puked.”

“No, you dope. Earlier than that. When you woke up. You seemed really terrified. Were you dreaming?” Hajime was already regretting asking. Kazuichi was sick and over-emotional. They were sitting on the bathroom floor, for God’s sake. Nothing good could come of emotional conversations on a bathroom floor.

There was another silence, so long Hajime checked to see if Kazuichi had dozed off. His eyes were wide open now, staring at the ceiling. “It was just a dream. That’s all.”

“Do you remember what it was about?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kazuichi mumbled.

Hajime sighed. “Look, it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. But it clearly freaked you out really bad. If there’s something you’re worried about or something that’s scaring you, I can-“ Hajime stopped as Kazuichi sat up abruptly. He kept his face turned to the wall, but Hajime heard the sniffles, saw his shoulders start shaking.

“Fuck,” Hajime muttered helplessly. “Kazuichi, I’m sorry. I’ll just be quiet. You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m messing this all up, I’m such a fucking idiot sometimes.”

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Kazuichi sobbed. “So stupid I still dream about him! Why can’t he just go away!” He went on talking, but he was howling too hard for Hajime to understand. He’d seen Souda cry countless times before, but this was different somehow. This wasn’t just wailing because some girl he liked had turned him down. This was raw, painful terror.

“Hey hey, calm down! You’re gonna make yourself sick again,” Hajime said, trying hard to keep the panic out of his own voice. He took hold of Kazuichi’s wrists, pulling him gently away from the wall. He’d meant to lay Souda down in the same position as before, but Souda instantly fell against Hajime’s chest, practically knocking him over.

“Right. Um. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” Hajime mumbled, patting his sobbing friend awkwardly. He wasn’t used to embracing people. It felt strange and unnatural but not unpleasant - and Souda clearly needed a hug more than anything else right now. “Souda, breathe. It’s okay. You’re safe. The fever is probably making it worse. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked about the nightmare.”

“Home,” Kazuichi gasped.

“Huh?”

“I was dreaming about being back at home.”

Oh God. Where was that Ultimate Therapist again? Hajime didn’t know how to handle this. He couldn’t sort his own problems, let alone anyone else’s. “Oooh. Okay. Shit. Your dad..? You mentioned him once before.”

“Don’t. Don’t talk about it.”

“Okay. Sorry. So your dream was a memory? When he… hurt you?” Hajime guessed.

The sobbing, which had been gradually calming, quickly returned to near-hyperventilating.

“Sorry, sorry. Breathe, okay?” Hajime’s own heart was thumping hard. This was way more than he could handle. “Look… You’re away from there. He’s literally across an ocean. It’s just me and you here. Because you usurped my bed tonight.”

Kazuichi gave a snort that could’ve been a laugh. “It’s not… not usually this bad,” he said, his voice still jerky with sobs. “I-I can handle it on my own. The nightmares.”

“Fevers make nightmares worse. I think. I’d have to check with Mikan,” Hajime said. “But at least you were here this time.” He was surprised to find he really meant that. He couldn’t bear to think of Souda dealing with all that on his own.

They sat in silence for a long time, until Souda’s sobs died down to sniffles, his head still resting on Hajime’s chest. The front of Hajime’s shirt was now damp with tears and snot, and Souda’s feverish body was like a furnace, but he didn’t suggest they move. After a long time he found he’d wound his arms around Kazuichi’s shoulders.

“Are you still awake?” Hajime whispered eventually.

“Mn. Barely…”

“Listen, this is important. If you have dreams like that any other night, you can come over here. If you want. Just knock hard so I wake up.”

Kazuichi shifted in his arms to look at Hajime’s face. “You don’t have to do that. Don’t feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“Maybe I don’t mind being stuck with you,” Hajime retorted.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Kazuichi’s face, though he was still red and tear-stained. “Then you’re fucking crazy.”

“It’s not crazy to want to be your friend, Souda. So will you ask me for help next time you dream something like that? Please?”

Kazuichi wound his arms around Hajime’s middle and squeezed so hard it made Hajime gasp. “Okay. I’ll come get you.” He paused. “Thanks, Hajime.”

Kazuichi fell asleep soon after, still pinning Hajime to the bathroom floor with his weight. And though Hajime would moan about how sore and stiff he was the next morning, he was still glad Souda came to him for help. Just about.

#danganronpa 2 #danganronpa #my writing #kazuichi soda #hajime hinata #dr emeto #emeto tw #emeto #dr sickfic #sickfic #fever #writing #our writing #mod circle

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janeyseymour · 3 years

Text

Have You Been Taking Care of Yourself?- a fanfic

prompt: Have you been taking care of yourself?

WC: 2044

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Jane Seymour to be seen around the house, around the theatre, around the town doing what she could for others. It was very rare that she ever took the time to take care of herself, although she would tell you that by taking care of others she was taking care of herself.

“Okay guys,” Jane addressed the group as she loaded the dishes from dinner into the dishwasher. “So, tomorrow we only have a night show- no matinee. I’ll clean up around the house in the morning, but then I promised Val I would help out at the library for a little bit- you know just clean up some of the children’s sections and organize a bit. You know how kids can get.”

The blonde closed the door to the dishwasher before forgetting that she didn’t put in the dish detergent. “Do you think you could all manage to get to the theatre on time? Because Joan wants to run that new little lick that she thought would go well in my song before we put it in. And then the next day, I think I’m going to volunteer at the food pantry in the morning before the shows, but I was thinking we could all have dinner after? I’ll cook. And oh, Kat: don’t think I’ve forgotten about that shirt I told you I would embroider.” She closed the dishwasher once more, this time loaded with detergent before pressing the start button. Turning to her family, she put her hands on her hips and looked at the youngest. “I’ll do that after the show tomorrow.”

“You sound like you really have your days planned out for the next few days,” Catherine noted diligently.

The third monarch grinned. “I like to stay busy. Now, I’ve got to go to my room to coordinate a few things for tomorrow with Val, but I’ll be sure to make my rounds before I head to bed. If you need me, don’t hesitate to knock, yes?” The other five queens nodded their heads, watching in wonderment as the woman dressed in grey made her way up the stairs.

“Does she-” Cathy started.

“There’s no way she doesn’t,” Anne finished.

“She’s well aware that Edward's birthday and her death day are coming soon. She’s doing what she can to distract herself,” Catherine stated as if it was obvious. “She isn’t ignoring it, although she’s doing her best to try.”

“How are we supposed to help her?” Kat wondered.

“I suppose we just let her live. If she wishes to distract herself, then sobeit. We just have to be there when she breaks.”

“I think we can do that,” the fourth queen affirmed.

A week had passed, and Jane was still on the move- desperate as ever to get her mind off of her son and her untimely passing. Only, it was getting harder.

Any time she slept now, Edward haunted her dreams. Sometimes it was his birth all over again, the feeling of a three day labor returning. Other times, it was as though she was an angel watching over him as he mused his wishes for his mother to come back. Once it was the blonde boy confronting her angrily over her death- how could she leave him with such a horrible father, and wasn’t she supposed to be the first woman he would ever love; but he would never get that chance since she had the audacity to slip away from him before they could properly meet.

The blonde had been making meals for the queens for days now- something that each of the other queens knew was Jane’s way of coping. The third queen was already in the kitchen cooking or baking more than the others ever were, but it was more and more that the house smelled of something sweet being baked. Jane never ate any of it; she gave it away instead to those that she loved: her family, the food bank down the road, those at the theatre she thought could use a pick-me-up. The thought of food at this point made the woman nauseous. Not knowing if she could stomach the food, she had resorted to supplementing with a protein shake before continuing on with her hectic days she had planned.

“So, are we going to ignore Janey’s death day like she is or...?” the second queen questioned after the silver queen had excused herself from the table that night. Edward’s birthday had come and gone, and it seemed as though Jane was doing just fine.

“If this is how she’s coping with it- I know it isn’t necessarily healthy- but who are we to try to get her upset over it?” The writer wondered aloud.

“I’m not sure she’s coping with it very well though,” Kat sighed into her hand, half asleep. “Last night when I went to her room, she was wide awake. I didn’t think she’s been sleeping at night, so I stayed awake all night. She was awake too, until like five in the morning. I could practically hear the gears in her mind turning. Once she fell asleep, I did too, but when I woke up she wasn’t asleep anymore.”

“She was downstairs and saw me out for my run at six this morning,” Cleves muttered. “Has she not been sleeping at all these past few nights?”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I have to go talk to Jane.” Catherine pushed herself up from her seat before beginning to make her way out of the room.

“Don’t you think-” Parr started.

“Querida, whatever is happening is far more unhealthy than Jane just letting herself break. Someone needs to talk to her,” the gold queen stated triumphantly before continuing up the steps and towards the grey room.

“Jane, love? Can I come in?” When the first queen heard no response, she assumed that the third queen was finally getting the shuteye she needed, but her light was still on. Turning the knob and letting herself into the room though, she found a puffy-eyed Jane Seymour awake and trembling.

“Oh honey,” Aragon sighed as she made her way across the room.

“I thought I could handle it this year,” the blonde winced as she busied herself with folding laundry. “If I just continued on like it was any other day, I thought I could handle it.”

Catherine plucked the shirt out of the trembling woman’s hands before folding it and placing it in the pile. Grabbing another, she asked, “Have you been taking care of yourself? Like, really and truly taking care of yourself? None of that ‘by taking care of others, I am taking care of myself’ shit.” Jane shook her head defeatedly.

“I haven’t slept more than two hours a night in the past two weeks, Lina. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is him.”

“Him?” The gold queen froze, the pants in her hands half folded.

The silver queen looked at Catalina for the first time since she entered the room before solemnly whispering, “Eddie.”

“Oh honey.” The pair of pants having been dropped to the ground, the elder queen embraced the third with all the love she could muster up. “You must be exhausted.”

“I am,” the younger monarch’s voice broke a little as she buried her face in the other’s shoulder. “I haven’t been able to eat either. I don’t think I can stomach anything at the moment, and I haven’t been able to since three days before his birthday.”

“When you went into labor,” Catherine sighed, a wave of sadness twinging through her for her friend. Jane nodded. “I’m so sorry, love. Why didn’t you-”

“Because I knew you would all dote on me, and I just don't know if I could handle that again. It’s like it makes it worse when you do. All that swims through my mind is Edward and the fact that I-” the younger queen pulled away from the woman dressed in yellow before mumbling, “-I failed him. I thought if I could take care of others, it would help me like it usually does but...”

“Querida, this is a completely different situation, and you did not have to go through it alone.”

“I’m sorry,” was all the troubled woman could breathe out.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for honey. But instead of taking this all on by yourself and constantly caring for others, why don’t you let us take care of you for a change? Nothing has to be out of the ordinary.”

“How would we even do that?”

“We treat it as though you’re on your period. I’m assuming you’ve been having phantom pains that you’ve just been ignoring?” Catherine voiced. When Jane meekly nodded, the first queen all but scooped her up into her arms and placed her in her bed. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”

“Please don’t leave me,” the blonde whimpered out.

“I won’t be but a few minutes,” she assured the woman in bed. When she noticed the pout that was beginning to grow on the younger woman’s face, Catherine pulled out her cell phone to text Kat. “What if I had Kat come keep you company while I just do a few things downstairs? I promise you I won’t be more than ten minutes.” Seeing that Jane seemed content with the plan, she asked the fifth queen to come keep the third monarch company for a few minutes.

“I’ve been summoned?” the pink haired queen joked before sliding onto the bed next to her maternal figure. When Jane grimaced in pain, Katherine immediately backed off.

“No, no, please come here. I’m fine.” The blonde waved a hand dismissively. “Just a bit of cramping, but nothing will stop me from-”

“Say no more Mum. You just tell me if you get uncomfortable, and I’ll help you in any way I can,” Kat told the woman gently.

Satisfied that Jane was finally taking a moment to rest, Catherine made her way out of the room.

When Catalina walked downstairs, she heard the television playing softly, but all eyes were on her.

“So?” the television show now forgotten about, the four women on the couch were staring at her curiously.

“She hasn’t slept more than two hours each night since three night’s before Edward’s birthday. She hasn’t eaten much since then either, unsure if she could stomach anything other than a light protein shake in the mornings. It’s no wonder she looks like absolute hell: the malnutrition along with the lack of sleep would have anyone looking like a zombie.”

“And yet she still looks like our Janey, although a few pounds lighter if I do say so myself,” Anne noted.

“Her sweater did look a bit bigger on her now that you mention it,” Cathy added on.

“So what are we doing about it?” Anna looked ready to help in any way she could.

“She doesn’t want us to make a big fuss over it. Says it makes it worse than it already is. I told her we could handle it like we handle any particularly bad period for any of us.”

“I’ll go get the heating pad.” Cathy stood from her place and headed to her room.

“I’ll make some toast,” Anne replied and made her way to the kitchen.

When Catherine gave her a stern look, Cleves sighed. “I’ll go cut up some bananas for the bread and make sure Boleyn doesn’t burn down the house making toast.”

“Very well. I’ll be in Jane’s room.”

That night, Jane slept peacefully with her five housemates by her side. For the first time in three weeks, the blonde queen was able to close her eyes without being harassed with terrible thoughts flooding her brain. Instead, her dreams were pleasant: a young blonde boy, a striking image of Jane (no Henry could be detected in this boy), enjoying the day with his mother- the five other queens included.

When the third queen woke up the next morning, she was greeted with a breakfast made by the house’s very own Catherine of Aragon. At her place sat a note:

Take care of yourself, and when you can’t: Let us take care of you.

#six the musical #six musical #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #jane seymour six #six jane seymour

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Light the Pyres |Rise| - SUNGYOON

Sungyoon + mc finally start getting their shit together I'm gonna scream

Pairing: Sungyoon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst, bits of fluff, apocalypse!au

Triggers: cursing, implied death, semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 4.6k

As the world burns its last goodbyes, you find a jewel amidst the ashes.

Previous: Light >> Rise >> Next: Burn

Golden Child Masterlist

Walking with Sungyoon is slow.

It isn’t like you expected anything more, considering the injured leg and all. Still, as you start off down the highway, you can’t help but feel like he was walking faster yesterday when you two came back to find his family.

Maybe it was adrenaline. Worry. Fear for loved ones can give you a lot of strength.

Or maybe it’s just your imagination.

You try not to show it. You’re the one who offered to let Sungyoon come, after all. He even raised the issue of his leg before agreeing. But impatience rears its ugly little head every time Sungyoon falls behind, forcing you to slow your steps down never-ending streets and highways until he ultimately needs a break and you sit in what miniscule shade you can find.

If it wasn’t so silent, you might be able to stomach the walk better. Maybe if you and Sungyoon were on good enough terms to have a conversation, walking wouldn’t feel so endless and slow. But after you gave each other your names that night in the house, there hasn’t been much conversation other than “break?” and “let’s go.”

Daeyeol was quiet, but in a comfortable way, in a way you’d known for two decades. Sungyoon has a reserved quietude about him. Definitely not comfortable.

Though given the circumstances under which you met, that isn’t surprising.

Which is why you don’t expect Sungyoon to bring up the issue and not you. You always figured at some point you’d explode from keeping quiet too much and say things you couldn’t take back, but one week after you leave, Sungyoon opens his mouth and starts talking instead of eating the granola bar you put in his hand.

“Are you tired of walking with me?”

You blink once. Twice. You still have the presence of mind to be thankful you just took a mouthful of granola bar and have to chew and swallow before you say a thing.

“No,” you reply, lying through bits of granola stuck in your teeth.

Sungyoon raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Really.”

Indignation rises in your chest. “Well, what do you want me to say?” you snap. “Why are you even asking? What does it matter?”

He looks down. Shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says, voice smaller and suddenly very tired. “I would’ve gotten tired in your position. I’m sorry.”

That just ups the guilt you feel for having those stupid thoughts. “Why are you sorry?” you say harshly, trying to disguise the emotion threatening to spill out of your mouth. “Last time I checked, doing whatever you did to your leg wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t land properly.��

“I was the one who told you to jump.” You grimace at the memory. “So unless you had practice in jumping off fucking buses before this all happened, I don’t see how that’s supposed to change the fact that you couldn’t control your jump from a bus taller than you.”

“I’m still slowing you down,” Sungyoon argues.

“What is this, a competition of who’s done worse?” You scoff. “In that case, if you didn’t remember, I forced you to choose between leaving your family or me killing them.”

Your words are acerbic. Grating. They burn guilty on your lips and tongue and you’re surprised Sungyoon doesn’t do anything more than swallow and look away, teeth worrying his lips. “They were already dead.”

Bitterness. Resentment. Not a lot, but just enough to tinge his words with a sickly venom that eats into your skin, filling your throat with bile. He doesn’t believe that, not yet, which you can’t even blame because you’re still trying to convince yourself it isn’t his fault that Daeyeol is dead.

Oh, God. Daeyeol.

Two bites of granola bar churn in your stomach. “I killed them anyway,” you manage, trying not to hurl.

“But I got Daeyeol killed.” Sungyoon turns, his eyes burning into yours.

Your fingers crush the remains of the granola bar still in your hand. Bits fall onto the ground, but you’re too busy focusing on a point in the distance to care, avoiding Sungyoon’s gaze for fear that you’ll launch yourself at him, claw his eyes out, throw him against the tree he’s sitting under –

Oh.

You stop throttling the granola bar.

This must be how he feels about you, too.

“Don’t tell me you don’t believe it.” Sungyoon’s voice, oblivious to your whirlwind of thoughts, is soft, bitter, but understanding. “Remember? The only reason I’m still here is because I’m living on his time.”

Bile stings in your throat, but you force yourself to lock eyes with him once more. “Yeah,” you croak. “Yeah. I do kind of believe it. But you also believe I killed your sister and her boyfriend, even if you keep saying they were already dead before I did it.”

His jaw tightens. Gaze shifts. But Sungyoon doesn’t argue.

You sigh. “I know the facts and I know it isn’t your fault, Sungyoon.” His name sounds weird on your tongue, but you push away the strange feeling and continue. “My brain just doesn’t want to believe it. Yet.” You swallow, hard. These next words better convey sincerity. “I don’t mean to act like your life only matters because Daeyeol sacrificed himself for us. It doesn’t. I do want you to stay alive if only for you to keep living. It’s just…” Another sigh. “I’m sorry.”

The truth doesn’t fall too flat, at least.

“Mine doesn’t either.” Sungyoon doesn’t raise his head, but one hand goes up to rub his downcast eyes. You fight the urge to tell him not to, that the dirt from his skin might cause an infection. “I would’ve had to kill them, one way or another. You just did it for me. Inevitable.” He looks up. “I shouldn’t blame you. I’m trying not to. Maybe I shouldn’t even have brought it up, I just didn’t want this to keep… festering.” He winces. “I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies.” You wrap up the remains of your granola bar, too drained to contemplate another bite even though you probably need it. “No more guilt. I think we’ve both done enough shit to each other to cancel most of it out.” And it feels weird. “Also, just because I’m impatient about you walking slowly doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you behind. I asked you to come. I’m not an absolute shithead. When you walk it off, you’ll be fine. Maybe we can find some bikes or something in the next city. I don’t know.”

Sungyoon blinks, then nods. Silence falls, a little less tension-filled than before. Then –

“I used to run track.”

You blink, trying to register his five word statement. It feels so out of place, but then you remember you were talking about going faster. “Were you any good?”

A brief glint of pride flashes in Sungyoon’s eyes. “One of the best.”

“Well, track boy, I guess we’ll have to wait until a horde finds us to verify that statement.” Your lips almost curve, and you feel a small bit of satisfaction as Sungyoon’s mouth twitches similarly. Morbid humor. Maybe that’s something you, him and Daeyeol have in common. “Go to sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

He sleeps, then, more quietly than you’ve ever seen him. And as his breaths begin to even, there’s a hint of the peace you used to feel when it was just you and Daeyeol instead.

It lets you pretend that things aren’t really as bad as they seem.

. . . . .

And things aren’t too bad, at least not for a while. Limping along, you and Sungyoon make it through a second week and then a third without ripping out each other’s throats. There are still infuriating flashes of fury and anger when Sungyoon does or says something that reminds you a little too much of Daeyeol, and sometimes you catch him glancing over with lips pressed together, eyes torn in grief. But it lessens. A little. Two weeks after that initial conversation, you find Sungyoon almost pleasant company. On some days, you even consider taking out the almost.

Until the horde attacks.

You and Sungyoon manage to run fast, to lose most of the zombies in a maze of abandoned buildings in a dusty city. The last few you shoot dead. When that’s over, you both breathe a sigh of relief.

Then Sungyoon faints, of all things, and when you finally drag him into one of the empty houses nearby and get him to come to, he can’t put weight on his leg without collapsing on the floor. The skin is tight, the limb swollen. Running that fast on whatever injury he had made it much worse.

Fuck.

Your hands aren’t those of a doctor, not even those of a biology major. All you can do is manipulate machines, not blood flow or heartbeats. Yours is dangerously high as you step close enough to touch his leg with trembling fingers, feeling the swelling flesh beneath your skin.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Sungyoon says when you remain silent, dropping your hands from his prone body. His voice is weak with pain but strong in anger, though whether it’s anger at you or something else you aren’t sure. “Maybe a bigger fracture.”

“How do you know?”

“Got a few injuries running track.”

You swallow. “How… how long?”

“Probably a few weeks.” He looks down.

Weeks. Several weeks. It took around two months for you and Daeyeol to make it two thirds across the country, and part of the way you were driving. On Sungyoon’s leg, you’ve only gone a third of the remaining third, if you’re being generous. Probably more like a quarter.

Three quarters of a third left. You may not have been in a math class in months, but you can still calculate that you have a quarter of the whole way to go.

A quarter. A whole damn quarter. Two or three weeks would cut that down at least by a third. A half if you moved fast enough. But now you’re stuck here for that amount of time, waiting for Sungyoon’s leg to heal.

He doesn’t say anything when you walk out of the room, doesn’t call you back when you disappear into the hall and close the door and put your head against the wall and scream, silent, as pressure builds behind your eyes to signal tears you won’t let fall.

Sungyoon definitely hears when you kick the wall. He also definitely hears your muffled grunt of pain, judging by the look he gives your foot when you walk back into the room, trying to keep the emotions off your face.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, putting your bag down with as little force as you can in the corner. “Need anything?”

He shakes his head. Swallows around what looks like a dry throat. You raise a disbelieving eyebrow and take a half empty bottle of water out of the bag, tossing it over. He catches it easily. “Don’t lie to me,” you say, successfully keeping a bite out of your tone. “If you’re thirsty, you’re thirsty. No sense in hiding it.”

Behind the bottle, Sungyoon nods. The plastic crinkles slightly in the silence as you turn back to the bag, staring at the dwindling mess left inside. Some more granola bars, two full bottles of water, a few empty bottles, clothes and a couple sheets. Sungyoon’s pack probably doesn’t have much more.

You sigh. One of you is going to have to go out and hunt for supplies and with Sungyoon’s fractured leg, it’s clear which one has to go.

There are zombies lurking everywhere. The bullets in your gun are the only ones you have left. You need ammunition, food, and water, and you have no idea where to find it.

Great.

The sun is still in the sky when you look out the window. There are three, maybe four hours left before sundown, which gives you a little time to at least scope out the neighborhood you’ve ended up in. “I’m going out,” you say, standing up. “If I’m not back in three hours, assume I’m fucked. Stay here.”

“And if you are fucked?”

The way Sungyoon says it simultaneously makes want to smile but also want to punch him in the face. Humor. It always seems to come back when you’re at your lowest points. “Then you’re fucked,” you say as flippantly as possible. “At least you have one water bottle and a granola bar to see you through a day or two.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say you hear Sungyoon snort as you leave the room. Though it was probably just the creaking door.

. . . . .

According to your watch, you come back two hours later with several bottles of water, a scraped leg, and two less bullets in your gun. “No food or ammunition, though there’s a cafeteria where I found some water,” you announce, wincing as you sit on the floor. “And zombies are still everywhere.”

“How do you think they find us?” Sungyoon asks, disconcertedly looking at the blood you’ve started dabbing off your leg. “And how did you get that?”

You pause, a strip of sheet pressed to your skin. “I… don’t know,” you admit. “I feel like they probably can’t see very well given their weird eyes and the fact that they still bump into buildings when trying to get at us. Hearing or smell?” You shrug, pouring a tiny bit of water onto the sheet. “And I got this running away from a group. Lucky they don’t move too fast or I wouldn’t have gotten back.”

“How many bullets left?”

“Ten.”

Sungyoon sucks in a breath.

“Yeah.” You glare at your gun, as though staring will somehow bring the two bullets back. “Might need to find some other sort of weapon.”

And transport. Like a bike or a car that miraculously still has enough fuel for you to hotwire. Though that’s secondary, considering you’re stuck here until further notice.

Silence falls as you finish cleaning your wound, wrapping it behind a strip of sheet with a sigh. “Hungry?”

He doesn’t answer. You frown. “Sungyoon?”

“You could go on. Alone.”

Your lips thin. Plastic crinkles in your grip. Just in time, you drop the water bottle in your hand before it explodes over the ground. “Hungry?” you ask again, voice choking.

Sungyoon doesn’t answer.

“Okay.” It takes all of your effort not to scream or shout or shake as you place a granola bar on the floor within his reach, along with a new bottle of water to replace the empty one sitting by his feet. “I’m going to take a nap. Say something if you need anything.”

He doesn’t say anything as you curl up on the floor, resting your head on your backpack. He doesn’t say anything as you turn around to face the wall.

He doesn’t say anything as you drift into an uneasy sleep.

. . . . .

Sungyoon doesn’t have a gun. Sungyoon doesn’t have a gun or bullets and the only other weapon you have is the blunt knife hidden in your backpack and you are thankful for this, because the next few days are unnerving.

He’s silent. Barely moves, never talks. He only ever eats when you threaten to shove food down his throat and doesn’t even half-smile the way he used to when you crack a sarcastic or morbid joke.

His words don’t leave you, either. You could go on. Alone.

It isn’t as though the thought hasn’t come to mind, you’ll admit, but every time it does, you brush it away. While you might have actually considered it when you first met, Sungyoon has grown on you (even in his silence) that you don’t feel comfortable with the idea of leaving him behind, even if he’s the one who brings it up.

You saw the loneliness and fear in his eyes that day you buried the bodies. You heard the emptiness in his voice when he said he didn’t have anywhere to go. You offered to let him come. You held out that offer even when he reminded you about his leg. Even a few weeks ago, when you were still restraining yourself from ripping out his throat every time he did something that reminded you too much of Daeyeol, you wouldn’t have rescinded your offer and left him alone unless he’d done something absolutely unforgivable. Which he never did.

So you won’t consider it. Even if it means taking longer to get to your mom. Beyond the fact that it just isn’t right, what would she say if she knew you abandoned someone you offered to take along?

But Sungyoon only ever speaks to bring it up, and every time, you pretend he never said anything. If you actually respond, you’re pretty sure it’ll deteriorate into either a yelling match or one of you just leaving the room. And considering Sungyoon can’t move, the one who leaves will be you.

The mental energy required for this conversation is too much for you to deal with right now.

But then you come back from a trip outside, limping on a re-bloodied leg and clutching a sheet to your bleeding arm an hour later than you told Sungyoon you’d be back. It’s dark when you enter the room, but the faint moonlight is just bright enough for you to see that the bed is empty and that the lump of Sungyoon is now on the floor.

The sheet drops from your hand.

“Sungyoon!”

A cracked cough sounds from the ground and you rush forward, ignoring the pain in your own limbs to lift him back up onto the bed. “What happened?” you ask, squinting into the darkness at where you think his leg is. “Did you make your leg worse?”

“You were late,” Sungyoon wheezes.

Frustration rises in your chest when he doesn’t answer the question, but you only nod tersely. “I had to hide for a while,” you say, trying to check his leg in the dark. “I’m sorry. But what were you doing?”

He still doesn’t answer. “Are you bleeding?”

“Sungyoon!” you snap, straightening. Your drop your bleeding arm and put weight on your injured leg, ignoring the resulting pain. “Answer me!”

“Why don’t you just leave?” Sungyoon half yells, burying his face in his hands. “Why are you injuring yourself because of me? I’m a nobody, I got your literal best friend killed, and now I’m preventing you from finding your mom –”

“SHUT UP!”

Sungyoon snaps his mouth shut. Swallowing hard, you do too, waiting for deadened groans to surround the house. Stupid, stupid, why did you yell? Keep your goddamn temper, will you?

One minute. Two. Five.

You finally let yourself breathe. “Are you done?” you snarl in a hushed whisper. “Are you fucking done?”

“Not until you either leave me here or give me a reasonable explanation as to why you still keep me around!”

“Do you think I’m heartless?” Your bag lands on the ground with a thud and you sit heavily beside it, giving in to the stinging of scrapes on your skin. “Do you seriously still think –”

“No, I think you’re stupid,” Sungyoon snaps.

“Stupid for what? Keeping you around when I’m the one who asked if you wanted to come along?” you retort. “It’s called basic human decency, Sungyoon!”

“And leaving me behind would be called the basic right decision for you!”

You scoff. “The right decision? Trading a human life for a week or two of time is the right decision?”

“You want to go and find your mom!” Sungyoon yells. “I’m only keeping you behind! We don’t even know each other – what even makes sense here?”

Everything in you wants to scream again that it’s not right, it’s not fucking right until you get it through Sungyoon’s thick skull, but just enough sense remains in your brain to force you to shut up and think.

Think. Why is he so set on this? And why are you so set on the opposite?

Guilt. He feels guilty that he’s keeping you behind. Which – understandable, if you calm down enough to think about it.

But how would you feel if you left him behind?

Unpleasant emotion rises in your chest. Guilt, horror, even pain at the thought of leaving Sungyoon. It’s alien – you’ve only felt this way about Daeyeol before he died, and certainly not around the few other travelers you met for brief moments on the way home, but somewhere along the way, Sungyoon has become a semblance of a companion.

A lump fills your throat. You think you know how Daeyeol felt, now, every time he heard or saw someone in need.

“You feel guilty,” you say slowly, leaning back against the wall. “Which I get. I think.”

“How –”

“Let me talk,” you interrupt, glaring. He probably can’t see it very clearly in the dark, but at least he shuts up. “You feel guilty for keeping me behind. Which I get, because a month ago I would barely have had second thoughts about moving on without you.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “As you should.”

“Will you quit it?” you snap. “If you feel guilty, think about how I would feel if I left you behind! You think I wouldn’t feel guilty? Instead of wallowing in your fucking guilt, try and think of me!”

And miraculously, Sungyoon falls silent.

“If you were in my position,” you continue, more softly, “what do you think you’d feel? If I asked you to leave me behind? Maybe I wouldn’t grudge you for it, but would you grudge yourself?”

Sungyoon remains quiet.

“It’s humanity,” you say, staring up at the ceiling. Daeyeol, I understand now. “It’s part of being human. I couldn’t leave you behind, not at this point when you can still be helped.” You swallow, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m not selfish enough to do otherwise.”

And as the silence continues, stretching as light fades in the window, you relax against the wall even with blood still trickling down your skin and onto the forgotten sheet. The last of your frustration sloughs away, the bitterness of blame and guilt gone from your throat.

Because you understand. You understand why Daeyeol tried to save everyone he could. You understand why he would risk his life to save a boy whose name he didn’t even know. You understand the guilt he would’ve felt if he didn’t try, didn’t lift a single finger to help, even if it meant possibly losing his life in the process.

You aren’t at that level. You may never be. You probably never will reach Daeyeol’s heights of selflessness, the quality you always admired him for. But you can understand this much.

It isn’t Sungyoon’s fault. It never was. As much as your brain wanted to believe it, it was no one’s fault – not Daeyeol’s for being selfless, not yours for failing to notice the zombie, not Sungyoon’s for being in trouble and needing help.

Not his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault. With every repetition, the three words grow clearer in your mind, a clear truth rather than a blurry mess you have to force yourself to decipher through gritted teeth every time they play in your head. It isn’t his fault.

It never was.

You blink a few tears away from your eyes, lowering your head to stare at Sungyoon’s dark body on the bed. “Let me see your leg,” you say softly, tongue free of the taste of blame. “You probably hurt it, falling off the bed.”

Sungyoon doesn’t protest, just lets you make your way over to the bed. Pale moonlight guides your hands as they skim over the swollen flesh. “It doesn’t hurt more,” he says, voice small.

“Doesn’t seem that much worse than yesterday,” you agree, pulling back. “You’re lucky. I didn’t run track, but I’m pretty sure falling isn’t supposed to do wonders for a fracture.” You frown. “What were you even doing when I got back, anyway?”

“You were late,” Sungyoon says. “By over an hour. I tried to see if I could find you.”

Something in your heart cracks at the tinge of fear in his words. He hides it well, but you can still detect the terror that frays his voice. It was in yours every time Daeyeol came back so much as a minute later than he told you, and in his every time you returned with a single scrape or cut on your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, sitting on the floor. Your back presses against the bed. If you looked up, you could probably meet Sungyoon’s eyes, but exhaustion weighs your head and limbs. “I got chased by a few zombies and had to barricade myself in a building before they finally left. When I decided it was safe to go, they apparently hadn’t left, and I fell a few times trying to escape.”

Sungyoon sucks in a breath. “Didn’t you have your gun?”

“Too close quarters.” You shudder at the memory. “I didn’t have enough space to pull it out. Easier to just outrun them.”

Silence falls as you try to shake off the feeling of cold, dead hands trying to grab at your arm. Then Sungyoon sighs. “I’m sorry for pressing you,” he whispers, so soft you almost don’t hear him. “I just don’t like being useless. Or when I’m holding people back.”

You purse your lips. You can commiserate. But how do you make Sungyoon understand that he isn’t useless, even if his leg is costing you time?

“Think about it like this,” you finally say. “If it wasn’t for you, I might’ve gone insane by now. Might not even be alive. I don’t do well when I’m completely alone in my thoughts, especially not when I’m stressed.”

“Extroverted?”

“Not exactly.” You sigh. “Just… I sometimes spiral. And if I don’t have someone nearby me in those moments, I don’t make the best decisions.”

“… We never exactly talked much.”

“Just a presence helps,” you clarify. “Knowing someone’s there is enough. And…” Might as well be out with it. “I was scared of being alone. Terrified. Still am.” You swallow. “Even if it’s silent company, it means a lot to me.”

Sungyoon remains silent for a moment. You almost think you’ve said too much before he speaks. “Me too,” he mumbles. “I was scared, too. Of being alone.”

A pang of guilt resonates in your chest. “I’m sorry –”

“No apologies, right?” Sungyoon breaks in, reminding you of the conversation from just weeks ago. “It’s not your fault. I know that now.”

He does. A sharp certainty edges his words, still inlaid with sadness but free of bitter blame and anger. He has finally reconciled your actions with reality, the same way you’ve reconciled him and Daeyeol, too. And even if you still feel the weight of two murders on your hands, the knowledge that he doesn’t blame you anymore lifts your heart, just slightly.

“I guess I was afraid you would leave on your own terms, once you realized how much I was holding you back,” Sungyoon mumbles. “So I tried to make you go first. I thought if I was the one who made you leave…”

“Well, you can’t get rid of me now.” You lift your head to give him a lopsided smile. “I’m still here, Sungyoon. Doesn’t matter how bad your leg is, I’ll be with you until it heals and then some. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sungyoon breathes. Then – “Thank you for staying. And forgiving me.”

A small, genuine smile replaces the lopsided expression you wore before. “Thank you for forgiving me too.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for enduring forgiveness :))

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waithyuck · 4 years

Text

melody

pairing: siren!park jisung x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: supernatural au, angst ?? ig ??

word count: 2k

warnings: borderline/full on obsessive behavior (by the reader), some kissin but nothing explicit yk, mental instability, descriptions of drowning/death, hey uh major character death !!

a/n: I’m sorry lmao (also sorry for the long ass wait, it’s been a rough one out here lads), also of course there’s no smut in this!!! *cue me preparing for this to not do well* UNEDITED

< previous | next >

~12/03/2020~ YIKES

~~~~

it was fairly common for you to stay up until the early hours of the morning for no reason. sometimes you’d even make it to see the sunrise before actually falling asleep, only to wake four hours later to get up for the day. it seemed like your body didn’t require much to sleep to be able to run, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or resentful for that.

tonight was the same as many; you were casually laying in your bed scrolling through your phone, enjoying the quietness that ran through your entire small apartment building.

usually, there would be the hustle and bustle of the day echoing throughout the walls, but considering it was about four in the morning, there was no one awake to create that common noise.

you were obviously minding your own business when you heard the sound of muffled singing start through the wall next to you, accompanied by the rush of the running shower. at first your brain couldn't process what you were hearing, but then you figured out it was just your new next door neighbor, park jisung.

jisung was undoubtedly one of the most handsome young men you had ever seen, and upon meeting him for the first time you found it hard to keep that thought to yourself. you managed to quiet your racing through you, but still ogled at him as he introduced himself for the first time to you.

he was young, around the same age as you. it baffled you that he was able to love out on his own at such a young age, and be financially sound enough to not have any roommates. you didn’t question him though, and made the decision to keep your distance from him just in case you couldn’t keep your mouth shut the next time you were face to face.

well, that didn’t work out for you.

of course every time you left your apartment you seemed to bump into him, and after a while you two became familiar with each other. he acted pretty bashful around you and you couldn’t deny that you were also a little shy, but it really felt like the two of you had some sort of underlying connection.

you developed a crush on him, and you were pretty sure he liked you too, but you were too much of a scaredy cat to do anything about it. you both would often strike up conversations when you’d see each other in the hallways of your apartment building, always smiling and giggling in each other's presence.

even after a few months of knowing each other, (and months of you destroying your sleep schedule) you had never once heard him sing; the honey-like deep tone of his voice had you almost in a trance. it was sickly sweet, dripping with talent and you found yourself unable to think straight as you stood suddenly from your bed, walking like a zombie out of your bedroom and to the front door.

your heart was pounding in your chest and blood was rushing in your ears as you flung your door open carelessly and trudged out into the hall, swinging a sharp left immediately to situate yourself before the angelic boy’s door.

you, now seemingly completely out of your mind all of the sudden, frantically clawed at the wood of his door, banging and scratching like it as four in the morning. you could slightly hear the sounds of rustling coming from the apartment beyond the door, and you felt your heart leap at the prospect of jisung coming closer to you.

“park jisunnggggg,” you whined out lazily, your words slurred as you leaned against the door. “hmmmm, jisungieeeee,” you drew out as soon as he opened the door, a towel wrapped around his neck and a confused expression adorning his handsome face. you stumbled forward slightly, the door now not there to support your ragdoll like body. you fell into him and he hurriedly tried to steady you, his hands gripping your shoulders and then your waist as you slumped onto him for support.

“y/n?” he questioned quietly, trying his best to steady you onto your feet. “what are you doing? It’s four in the morning--”

“you never told me you could sing,” you cut him off, giggling loudly as your eyes looked up at him from where your head was now perched on his shoulder. you were too far gone (something that your brain wasn’t even questioning, therefore you felt absolutely zero alarm from the way you were acting), to register the change in his eyes, from confusion to pure dread as he stared at you.

“wait,” his eyes grew wide as he spoke, and your heart practically melted as you swooned at the color of them, which were unusually royal blue instead of his normal brown. “you heard me sing???”

he was clearly panicking, but your mind was so hazy that all you could do was stupidly smile at him, picking your head up and leaning in close to try and pick up the scent of his shampoo.

“mmm yeah,” you mumbled, your head falling onto his shoulder once again as he tried to keep you upright. “you’re so good at singing...like an angel.”

it was like you were drunk on him now, your body and brain not able to control themselves properly in his heavenly presence. his hands were fumbling awkwardly on your waist and you giggled at the contact, his large, warm hands somehow brushing up your shirt and against your skin.

you felt his chest rattle against you as he let out a shaky breath.

“fuck,” he muttered, gripping your skin as he pulled you abruptly into his apartment, quickly closing the door and locking it as best he could with a singular hand before gently guiding you to sit on his sofa.

you happily followed him as he maneuvered your body to rest on the couch, your brain feeling like it was in the clouds as he frantically paced back and forth before you.

“is there something wrong, jisung?” you questioned softly, a dumb smile still on your face as you sat back aginast the cushions behind you.

jisung stopped before you and stared down at you, his deep royal blue eyes causing your heart to flutter, and all you wanted to do was get as close to him as physically possible in that moment.

when he didn’t speak, you sat up straight, preparing to stand and get close to him, but he stopped you with his own body finding its way to rest right before yours.

“just,” he grunted frustratedly, placing his hands on your shoulders. “stay there, y/n.”

you pouted up at him, but reeled at the feeling of hands on your shoulders. “I wanna kiss you so bad, jisung.” you whined out, your conscious mind completely overtaken with the need to kiss him, hug him, devote yourself to him.

you could see his facial expression clearly, even in the dimly lit living room. he looked to be fighting with himself regarding his feelings toward you.

truth be told, jisung really wanted to kiss you too. but this situation...it felt wrong. his voice had done something to you; it called out to you, putting you in an intoxicated trance, and now he wasn’t sure what to do.

you would kill others trying to be by his side. you would kill yourself. it was that serious.

jisung suddenly sat down beside you, his expression void of emotion as he stared at you, your eyes sparkling at the close proximity of his body to yours. you didn’t hesitate to lean in to capture his lips without even asking, but hesitated when his hands met your waist for the second time that night.

“one kiss.” he said sternly, swallowing heavily as he looked at you. “only one.”

you were disappointed, but nonetheless took what you could get and gently met his lips with your own.

his lips were plush and soft as they moved with your own, and you sighed contently into the kiss as it progressed. it didn’t deepen like you were hoping, and after a minute or two of soft kisses, he pulled away.

your heart ached to feel more of him, and you were ready to cry when he stood up and distanced himself from you.

when he began to silently walk down his hallway, you were ready to pounce up and follow him like a dog, but he seemed to already predict your actions.

“stay,” he demanded, looking over his shoulder at you. “just...stay.” he sounded almost solemn, but there was still a slight void of emotion in his tone, like he had been through this exact situation many times before.

you poured but listened to him, busying yourself by looking around the room, not even noticing the light sounds of the bathtub being filled down the hall in the bathroom where jisung now found himself.

it wasn’t long before he called out to you from down the hall as he made his way back to the living room.

“hey y/n?” jisung called from the hall, immediately making your head snap in his direction.

“yes? do you need something?” you were frantic to reply, your head spinning with the need to make him happy. he shook his head no, a blank look in his eyes as he stared back at you.

“no, no I don’t need anything.” he deeply retorted, wringing his hands. “I drew a bath for you, if you wanna hop in.”

surprise etched onto your features at the kind gesture, but you nonetheless were grateful and instantly shot up to make your way to the bathroom with him.

you’d probably do anything he asked you to do, even if it was as simple as getting in the bathtub.

you didn’t really notice him shutting the door and locking it behind him, and you had barely been able to try to take off your clothes before he had shoved you into the tub roughly, causing you to knock your head on the side.

you panicked, not understanding why all the sudden he would treat you like this, and you struggled as he grabbed a hold of you tightly and flipped you onto your back in the water, looking into your eyes one last time.

“this is for your own good, y/n.” he said, voice breaking. you stared up at him, your eyes seemingly shaking as tears formed. “this is no way for you to live.”

with those final words, he shoved you beneath the water, his strength overpowering yours as you screamed in protest, bubbles the only indication you were making any noise at all. you squirmed and tried to fight, but you couldn’t escape from his hold. he looked away from you entirely, not wanting to see your face as you tried to save your own life.

your lungs burned and you closed your eyes, your vision fading out anyway. your struggles grew weak as you were effectively drowning, your last breath escaping you as it finally all faded to black.

jisung sniffled, finally letting go of your limp body to wipe away the tears that escaped his eyes. he never wanted this to happen. deep down he knew that it was for the best; you would have never been able to live without him after hearing his cursed voice.

with one final glance at you he stood, unlocking the bathroom door and walking out to figure out how he was gonna deal with this mess he had created for himself.

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aomine-ryo · 4 years

Note

GoM with a s/o that overworked herself please? I like your stories and thanks for all of them

I’m glad you like my work!! :) I hope you enjoy this one too! xx

Headcanons: GOM with an s/o that overworked herself

Kuroko

He’s a very observant person so he’d been noticing the change in your habits for a while

He knew that you were hardworking, but you were also quite organised so he just assumed that you had scheduled enough time for yourself to relax

However, when he noticed that you were more tired than you usually were in the past few days, he got a bit worried

“Y/N-kun, are you okay? You don’t look too well,” he asked you, remembering that you had been studying late when he texted you the previous night

“Uh yeah,” you said, taking a minute to process what he had just asked you, “I didn’t get much sleep.”

“Don’t you have to work after school today? That’s very irresponsible of you, Y/N-kun,” Kuroko scolded.

Needless to say, he becomes extremely concerned about you overworking, knowing how bad it can get from observing the people around him who just didn’t know when to stop

So, after school, when you went to your part-time job, Kuroko left his basketball practice a bit early to buy you some hot tea from a cafe that you frequent

You hadn’t been able to go to that cafe recently because you had been so focused on other things, so when he visited you after work with that cup in his hand you were so happy

“I know how much you’ve been working so I brought you some tea to help you relax.”

He walked you home and instructed you to go to sleep immediately after you showered

You still had some work to do, but he gave you no opportunity to argue

You decided to listen to his instructions, not wanting to raise his concerns any more

From then onwards, he made sure to give you reminders every now and then to make sure that you took it easy, and you were truly grateful to have him there to make sure you were okay

Kise

He likes how serious you were towards your work, however he would also get very clingy and pouty if you don’t spend enough time with him

“Y/N-cchi, I barely get to see you these days. I miss you,” he’d whine to you

It was kind of good that he was like this though because it forced you to take time out of your work and relax with him

Recently, you hadn’t been able to get the time to go out with Kise because you had been so slumped with work and you were constantly on the brink of exhaustion

Kise knew about the dangers of overworking and the moment he noticed that you hadn’t been getting the rest you needed, he made you his top priority

He’d constantly check up on you throughout the day, be it through texts, calls or just dropping by, he’s always making sure you’re taking breaks

He especially liked dragging you out of your room mid-studying to take you on little dates at your favourite cafe

And he wouldn’t take no for an answer

“Just let me finish this one thing—“

“No we have to go now!” He said frantically, taking your hand

“Why do we have to go right now? It’ll just take a minute—”

“Because!” he said, trying to sound serious though the wide grin on his face wasn’t helping his cause

“That’s not an answer,” you giggled before allowing yourself to be whisked away from your desk by your cheery boyfriend

You really loved spending time with him like that though

As much as you’d resist and whine about him dragging you away from your work, it truly did help you unwind and you began to look forward to it over time

You did make sure to thank him for taking care of you like this

“You don’t need to thank me... actually on second thought, you can thank me with some kisses,” he said with a wide grin, and you happily obliged

Midorima

Midorima knew you were a hardworking person so he didn’t think too much about it when you had began to spend more time doing work

However, when he started seeing you less and less as days went by, he couldn’t help but miss you

You would always walk home with him after his practice, but you had become so consumed with your work that you had stopped doing so, which hurt him a bit though he didn’t say anything about it

He quickly noticed how tired you began to look in school though, which raised his concerns

“Y/N, are you sleeping properly?” he asked you

“Huh? I’m fine. I’ve just been staying up a little longer to study,” you said drowsily

“I don’t think you should be doing that. You’ll overwork yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” you brushed him off, the lack of sleep making your tone sound more cranky than you were

Although he left you alone after that interaction, he very well knew that you weren’t going to be fine

So he took the liberty in making you a schedule which would prevent you from exhaustion

He also made sure to leave space in your schedule so that you could walk home with him after practice again

“Here, I made you a schedule so that you won’t die of overworking,” he said one morning before class as he handed you a sheet of paper with a very detailed schedule as well as small tips on how to be more efficient

“Aw Shintaro, you didn’t have to do this,” you said to him, though you were grateful for his concern

“Yes I did. You’re just a few more sleepless nights away from becoming a zombie. And I don’t want to date a zombie,” he said sternly, making you giggle

“Well, thank you. I’ll use it. I see you’ve made some time for me to walk home with you again,” you said with a grin as he averted his gaze

“Yeah, well, I miss walking with you,” he mumbled before suddenly being pulled into a hug

He wasn’t one to engage in PDA other than just holding hands, but he didn’t hesitate to hug you back because he missed your touch

“If you need any help with your studies I can help, just say the word. I’m always ready for a study date,” he added, trying to find more ways to spend time with you

“I will. Thank you, Shintaro,” you smiled.

Aomine

Aomine was aware that you took your work seriously

He was awfully protective over you so if he ever noticed that you were overworking yourself, he’d go full mom-mode on you

You tried not to let yourself get swallowed by your work because you didn’t want to worry Aomine, however it was inevitable when your to-do list seemed never ending

As someone who never did any of his work, Aomine had a lot of free time to spare

So whenever he wasn’t playing basketball, he’d visit you to make sure you were okay

If he was ever busy and couldn’t visit, he’d make sure to text or call you

Since the InterHigh was around the corner, he hadn’t had time to see you, so when he finally found the time, he wasn’t too happy to find out that you had overworked yourself to the point where you had caught a cold

“Y/N! You’re sick! Stop working, you idiot,” Aomine said, marching towards your desk and pulling your pen out of your hand

“But there’s so much to do,” you croaked, rubbing your heavy eyes

“I don’t care. Sometimes, work just doesn’t need to be done.”

“I don’t think that’s good advice—”

“Shut up and go to bed,” Aomine huffed. “I can’t believe I’m the responsible one in this relationship.”

You let out a snort as you climbed into your bed, “You skip practice and you never do your homework, I’d hardly call that responsible.”

“Yeah well, I’m not the idiot that got sick from working too much,” Aomine retorted as he tucked you into bed

This back and forth went on for a while until you eventually drifted off into a slumber

As much as Aomine lectured you about overworking yourself, he was glad that you finally got some rest

You didn’t hear the end of his lectures for the next few days; he’d constantly annoy you about it

“My God, Daiki you’re giving me a headache. I’m sorry for overworking myself. I won’t do it again,” you groaned in attempts to get him to stop lecturing you

“Good. Less working means more Aomine time,” he grinned before placing a kiss on your lips

Murasakibara

Murasakibara always gets grumpy whenever you don’t spend enough time with him

So you spending more time on your work often resulted in endless texts checking up on you

It took him some time, but he started to notice that you were looking more exhausted as days went by

He knew that when you got absorbed into your work, you neglected your health completely

So as soon as he realised that you were overworking yourself, he got extra clingy and concerned

“Y/N-chin, you’re overworking yourself again, aren’t you?” he said when he saw you struggling to stay awake after class

“No I’m not.”

“What time did you go to sleep last night?”

“...4 am,” you mumbled

“You’re going to get sick if you keep this up,” he sighed, munching on his snacks. “You better take a nap when you go home.”

“I’ll be fine, I need to finish some homework first.”

“Nope, you’re gonna nap,” he shook his head, finality in his tone

You didn’t argue because it wasn’t like he could actually force you to sleep

But you were wrong

Murasakibara walked you home and followed you into your house to make sure that you went to bed

“I’m not leaving till you fall asleep,” he said, tucking you in before taking a seat at the foot of your bed

You had no choice but to sleep because he seemed like he wasn’t going to budge

When you woke up that evening, you found Murasakibara asleep in the same place he was earlier

After that day, he did his best to make sure you were taking care of yourself

When you mentioned that you hadn’t been eating much because you were so absorbed in your work, he decided to cook you a meal

You enjoyed that meal so much that Murasakibara began to cook for you more and more often

He was just glad that he could help you in any way he could

Akashi

Tbh I don’t think he’d ever let you get to the point where you overwork yourself

If you somehow managed to slip under his radar and overwork yourself he’d notice almost immediately

“Y/N, I think you should take a break. This isn’t good for you,” he said to you during recess, where you sat in the classroom and continued to work

“I’m fine. There’s just a lot to do,” you sighed, just wishing that your to-do list would come to an end

“Did you not bring anything to eat for lunch?” He questioned, noticing that there was no lunchbox near you

“Huh? No, I guess not. I’m not that hungry anyways,” you shrugged

Akashi walked off and returned with his lunchbox in hand

“Here, have my lunch.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m not hungry,” you shook your head, before returning to your work

Akashi took the pen out of your hand and closed your books, making space before placing his lunchbox in front of you

“I insist,” he said, and you decided to give in

If you ever overwork yourself, he would not leave your side until you got better

He’d also make sure to arrange some study dates with you where he would help you in working more efficiently so that you don’t end up overworking yourself again

He cared a lot about you so he didn’t want you to put your health in danger

He adored the fact that you were hardworking but he didn’t let you get too carried away with it

He’d call you quite often to check up on you and give you little reminders

He also really liked to go on walks with you so that you could unwind as well as spend some time together

He is always so concerned and caring towards you that you felt lucky to have someone that looked out for you as much as he did

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #aomine daiki #kuroko tetsuya #kise ryouta #murasakibara atsushi #akashi seijūrō #midorima shintaro #generation of miracles #kuroko no basket x reader

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fringchound-a · 3 years

Note

1, 6, 13, 15, and 16

Tread On My Ground || Accepting Until Fully Breached

1. What’s your oc’s most irrational fear? Is there a specific reason this fear came about?

Open Skies and Spaces. It's a fear not entirely irrational when you consider what she calls both home and mother. To other veteran stalkers of Schwarzwald, it's actually a very common one. But to those outside the boundaries of the Black Forest, it's seen as bizarre. She's learned by now to hide the unease open skies give her, the tangible vibrating nervousness of wide spaces of simply nothing. It's a survival tactic, she's sure the secret police in Stuttgart especially are trained to read certain types of questionable body language, so she hides this unease with loosely crossed arms and finding things to stand under. Shade trees, parasols, the eaves on houses and businesses. So far, it keeps her safe in public, and doubles as giving her a calmness to have something constantly over her head. You don't spend half your life in the gloom of leafy canopies and labyrinthine forests without experiencing a want for it later.

6. What kind of clothes is your oc least comfortable wearing?

She's never been too fond of anything that shows too much skin. A peek of a shoulder, or a wrist, an ankle, her neck... That's one thing. She considers that as dressed down as she'll ever feel comfortable with. But she never truly understood the need for things that show off more than you're willing to give. Some people like that, that's fine. In a way, she envies them their comfort and confidence with showing more than she would. She's more comfortable in her heaviness and layers, with maybe a rolled sleeve or pant leg here and there for heavier, dirtier work when absolutely necessary.

13. What’s your oc’s dream home like?

She never had one she considered a 'dream home'. She lives in the tavern, has an apartment in Stuttgart from an old family friend she uses when in the city. She has a room set up here and there for her in various hamlets and in Central, in her Zone. She has a Castle who she is more than sure would keep her with it forever if it could, if she wanted. If she had to choose, she'd choose the place she makes her family as her dream home, a place in the moment and the now, a place with memories already attached. Which really doesn't leave out a lot where she rests her head.

15. What’s your oc’s morning routine like?

Out Of The Zone ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She rarely sleeps well away from her dark muffled gloom, the sound of creaking trees and the calls and movement of local wildlife and people. She's likely already awake with a lead of hours on most normal early risers. A zombie in mind and movement, stumbling in a mess of mane and whatever crumpled fabric she's swathed herself in the night before to use the facilities and give herself an existential crisis with the mirror. Or maybe she's too tired now to think in personal philosophies and instead goes through the motion routines of brushing teeth and trying to somewhat tame that nebulous bramble patch she calls hair. It's a futile effort at this hour, and she gives up the latter task when it eats the hairbrush and flings it across the bathroom. With grumbled vehemence, it's showertime, and she uses hot water and conditioners to finally brush the beast out. It won't last for too long, once it dries that's the end of it. But at least it's clean and untangled for five minutes. Papa is awake by the time she's out, and he always makes sure she has a cup of coffee to stave off the creeping morning crises while he makes breakfast. By the time the plate arrives, she's awake enough to look over the inventory sheets from the night before to determine a shipping order for later. She writes down product and quantity as necessary, as well as anything else she can think to add to the list and as soon as she is done eating, lets Papa look over it for approval after he's cleared the table. She gets herself dressed with the mane properly restrained, returning with the empty coffee mug and wearing something less conspicuous than the usual stalker-wear. It doesn't deviate much, but just enough to blend in properly with the public, which is what she needs to do. She picks up the approved shipping list and plants an affectionate kiss to the old Russian's cheek, waving farewells and grabbing the truck keys on her way out to Stuttgart.

In the Zone ~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not the feel of sunlight that wakes her, but the soft twittering of songbirds and the clacking rustle of familiar leaves. An ambiance she's used to, one that lulls her to sleep the night before and wakes her come dawn. Mornings in the Forest aren't as difficult as out of it, even if she sleeps indoors as now. A hamlet nestled somewhere in the German side of the sea of trees, a room in the house of an Oma. The little old anomalies live up to their name and culture, consistently providing for those who might need it. So long as thanks and politeness is given and their hamlets thrive, they will be happy to provide. The whisper of an early morning breeze through the Patrol Trees that surround the hamlet wisp in through the window, and the sound of groaning wood of the Forest herself coming awake are what wake her ever-faithful Guide. Along with the smell of sizzling ham. The one thing she notes as always being difficult regardless of where she wakes is the battle of her mane. She rises clad in whatever this Oma has given her for the night and once more gives up halfway through attempting to run a brush through the impossible inky mass of her hair. It stays there, anchored for later like a forgotten monument to the arrogance of God. She is in the dining room before she remembers how she got there, sitting down to a steaming slice of ham with jam on a slice of rye bread and a cup of tea; coffee culture does not exist in the Zone, so tea will suffice as substitute. The Oma is not in sight, but she is nearby, evident when breakfast is munched on and the brush starts to move. Wulf can only let it happen and does, letting her mind defragment itself into some semblance of a working order between mechanical chewing and sipping and the rhythmic pull of the brush. The plate is clean, the cup emptied as she is told her clothes are cleaned and folded upstairs. Thanks is given as the brush is handed back to her to return to its place. She should clean it out, to prevent leaving behind more of herself, but the Zone already has much of her blood, what worse could come from leaving a few hairs behind. Once it is returned to the vanity top, she finds that the Oma speaks true and the dirty layers she had come traipsing in the day before are cleaned and ironed and folded neatly on the freshly-made bed, the jacket hanging on a hook on the room's wall with her boots polished beneath it and the arsenal and baggage and respirator settled nearby. These things are not for the Oma to clean, so they remain in a state of grunge for the Guide to handle herself. She changes, leaves the night clothes folded in a haphazard neatness on the bed in their place and, after arming up, somehow appears at the front door of the cottage. It is time to leave then and as she exits, waves a gracious thanks to the little old anomaly sitting on her porch weaving. Another time, another place...

16. What’s your oc’s nighttime routine like?

Out of the Zone ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sleep is more driven by exhaustion than anything. Cut off from the fabric that remade her, she loses energy almost immediately, an imbalance that can fix itself with sleep. Getting there is a short journey that feels like it lasts for longer than it should. Unloading her equipment and baggage and placing it in an alcove behind a false wall made to look like the rest of the foundation, she defines her trail to the bathroom with a line of dirty clothes she'll pick up as she returns that way, layers released and weight she's suddenly sensitive to shed. The last thing to release is the braid and the now unrestrained hair flies into its normal cloud once undone with a spray of captured foliage pieces and a few hapless hitchhikers. Anything left will be washed away in a few moments' time. She doesn't remember how long she's under the water for, long enough it runs the hot water out. She's more than sure by now that she is clean, pale skin red from scrubbing maybe a little too hard in places. It will heal. Her mane is clear of intrusion finally, no sticks or brambles or wayward eight-legged friends left. A grueling job, but running around in dark passages and through ever-moving thickets is unkind to a mass of ink such as this. She's out and across the basement to her room, having picked up and piled her breadcrumb trail of dirty clothing, dropping it in a pile next to her door for washing later before the next excursion. A quick dry and slipping into an old t-shirt she's had since she was at least seventeen complete the nightly routine and she is quick to drowse off, waiting for her appetite to return to normal and sleep to settle in and take her. It will be a restless night.

In the Zone ~~~~~~~~~~~

"And so shall you sleep, O Child of Blood and Bone. Sleep within the embraces of that which knows you best of all..." Sleep comes easiest in the embrace of her mother. Getting there is not so difficult either. The gloom of the Forest Proper makes it hard sometimes to tell what time of day it is and the inability to use something as linear as a watch -even an old wound watch- makes it harder still, so she can only run until she is exhausted. Sometimes, she is near hamlets or one of the towns. They usually provide lodgings for peaceful stalkers, and especially the Guides. Sometimes, a friendly Castle is nearby with warm promises of lodging for a spell, regardless of it being hers or not. But sometimes, there is no civilization to help, and so she resigns herself to the trees. The Forest always provides safety when asked kindly for it, and she finds herself enveloped in its faerie tale embrace, a feeling it can't quite release itself from. Old beech trees, with their massive gnarled trunks and roots, are a favorite hovel to crawl into when provided, carefully dropping heavy armament and equipment to one side but always within range. She will coil into the depression between roots, settle herself so there is no tension, pap a bag beneath her head as a makeshift pillow. And she will sleep, listening to the creaking of the Zone around her, a sort of lullaby played in the shifting tones of groans provided like a mother tucking in her sleep-addled child.

@connor232universe

#Ask Meme #OC Questions #connor232universe

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beautifulletdownfics · 4 years

Text

Twenty Good Reasons :: Part Fourteen

Read Earlier Chapters Here My Masterlist

Part Fourteen, This Is Family

The following morning was like a balloon slowly deflating.

I woke up dozens of times during the night. Nurses would come and go, a night doctor came to check on Laykn a few times, and every time Harry moved underneath me, it tugged me back to the room. It felt like waiting for a flight, there was this restless stillness in feeling like something was coming, and I needed to be ready for this to be the time I woke up to it.

There was a sense that morning would come, and Laykn's doctors would waltz back in and have answers.

What really happened was that my parents returned from their hotel just after seven a.m. and when Laykn's doctor came back to see us, he wanted to wait until the late afternoon before changing anything. I flicked between watching Dr Davies as he spoke and looking to Harry from where he was standing in the far corner to me, giving up his seat so each of my parents could have one. He frowned through the news but gave nods of understanding where he seemed to agree with what was being presented to him.

But I wanted to know now. I wanted Laykn to wake up now.

I felt we had already waited entirely long enough.

"Has he gotten better overnight?" I asked carefully, but I could taste the impatience in the words, right on my tongue, "I just—Is he, I mean …"

Dr Davies gave me a look that said he really couldn't hypothesise, "Looking at the monitoring from overnight, he's definitely not gotten any worse which is sometimes the best news you can have at this stage. We're not seeing any of the things we worry about—a spike in temperature, further bleeding, swelling—so, so far Laykn's doing well. He's doing okay for now. I know it seems like nothing, but I promise you it's not. We'll review and talk again in another six hours, but we'll know even more in twelve. That's when I'd be thinking we'll start to see a shift and be able to talk about trying to wake him up for you."

"Twelve hours," I repeated aloud, mainly for myself. Harry gave me a small but infinitely reassuring nod, "Okay."

"In the meantime, stay with Laykn by all means, but Nina and Harry," he looked between us both, "You should go back to wherever you are staying and freshen up, have a nap, eat something. Laykn's going to need you all as he comes through this, and you're useless if you're not looking after yourselves. And each other."

"Thank you," my mum said for us all as Dr Davies left the room. She turned to Harry and I, "He's right. You came straight off the plane here, you haven't even checked in—oh, is that going to be a problem with your hotel?"

"It's fine," Harry pacified, "I let them know we wouldn't arrive until today."

"A shower and a nap," my mum reached for my arm as Harry started collecting our belongings, "You'll feel a thousand times better, trust me."

I thought about telling her I didn't know that I could feel any better, much less a thousand times so, but instead, I pulled her in for a long hug. I took the handle of my small, carry-on suitcase from Harry as he gave my parents both a hug as well.

"You'll be a new man too, Harry," The warmth in my dad's voice was evident, "Can't imagine you can feel any of your limbs right now after a night of Nina sleeping on you?"

"She's pretty comfortable, actually," Harry returned with a smile, "We'll call you from the hotel. Was there any problem with yours?" He asked as an afterthought, frown settled back on his forehead, "I can—

—Ours was perfect," my mum confirmed, giving Harry an appreciative smile. Something warm chinked together in my chest at Harry's care for my family, "Go now, both of you need showers and something substantial to eat. And you should call your family, Harry. We spoke to everyone at home last night."

In the hotel bathroom, Harry stayed under the spray of the water much longer than me.

I stood in front of the mirror carelessly towel drying my hair, wearing the pyjama set Harry packed for me. The steam from the shower and the smell of hotel soap had the whole bathroom giving off the perpetuating clean, warm feeling I enjoyed most.

Neither of us was speaking, and there was no song being hummed under Harry's breath as he stood behind the thin glass pane. When he eventually got out and stood behind me to dry off, he was frowning tersely, as if deep in some thought he couldn't get a hold of properly. I gave him a slight smile and tried to ask the question with my eyes: are you alright? While we ate, Harry called his mum and told her what was going on, and listening in on that conversation added another layer of realism to this whole thing. As if he read my mind, Harry's neck turned away from our reflections, and he gave me a concerned look.

"Your mum is right. You hadn't had a meal since we left London," his hand thoughtlessly gestured out from where we are in the direction of the suite where we'd just finished a couple of plates of room service, "We're going to have to take some food back with us if we're going to spend long hours at the hospital."

I was suddenly too tired to have the conversation I knew needed to happen, "I know," I agreed readily, part of the hollow feeling I'd had for the last twenty-four hours now filled with food, "But right now I swear all I want is to lie flat. Can we nap and then make a game plan?"

Harry paused, if only for a moment, "Yeah, we can."

"We both look like zombies."

Ten minutes later, under the perfectly crisp hotel sheets, Harry rolled over on his side to face me, "This doesn't feel like it's really happening, does it? I don't even know what day it is anymore and it's only been one day."

I hooked my knee up onto his thigh and pressed my forehead against his shoulder, "It doesn't feel like Laykn's even there, does it?" I whispered, "Like, without him being awake, it's like … I don't know."

"We should figure out where he was staying, go get his stuff," Harry said, "His passport and all that."

There was silence then for a few moments then, all I could hear was Harry's breathing and the soft hum of the city outside the hotel room. The sheer volume of thoughts and feelings I'd had in the last twenty-four hours was overwhelming, and as I took in a slow breath, the smell of Harry's clean skin was a final straw.

He heard me sniffle and pulled his arm out from between us to wrap it around my body, "I know," was all he said, which was somehow the perfect thing for him to say.

I cried against his shoulder until the release of it had simmered down all the conflicting emotions rising up in me. Eventually, it was just both our steady breathing, and the only way I knew Harry wasn't asleep was from watching his eyelashes blinking on his profile, lit slightly from a crack in the curtains. His fingers had stilled on my skin, and there was no sound from him. Just blinking. Just staring at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" I whispered.

"The baby," Harry replied easily. "And Laykn. And how quickly life can change without you realising it's going to. No warning for either, you know?"

I smiled minutely, "Well, we had a little warning with the baby. Just didn't know it was a warning, did we?"

Harry's hand fanned out on the top of my back, "That's true. I'm just—I'm glad that in both those things, in both these things, I've got you. I'm so grateful for …" his voice strained. Harry squeezed my shoulder to his side, "For you, and for us being solid but mainly I'm grateful you told me to pull my finger out a few months ago because boy I don't know if that douchebag could've handled this shock to the system. Not well, anyway."

"I'm grateful for you as well," I pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

"I think we should call your doctor in the morning," Harry said quickly, as though it had been right on the tip of his tongue to say, "Tell her what's happened and find out what we should do or even if there's anything we can do."

"You're worried, huh?"

"Yes," he turned his head towards mine, "I'm worried. I'm worried about everything. But I can't do anything about your brother, and I can't make your parents feel any better, and I can't quell your fears either, I can make sure we look after you right now."

"Are you worried about the tour as well?" I said quietly, sure it would be on the list somewhere.

"I'm really not," Harry rolled completely on his side, "I don't give a shit about it, I can do a tour whenever. The only thing I'm—I don't like that postponing dates will …"

"People are going to talk about it," I finished for him.

"Yeah," Harry sighed, "Dan sent through the statement earlier, do you want to read it?"

He was already reaching behind for his phone on the bedside table. The room lit up as Harry unlocked his work phone and held the screen between us, flicking through until he found the Mail app and opened it.

From: Dan B.

To: Harry Private

Subject: RE Statement, Clean

Mate, we can make any changes you like x

It is with deep regret we announce the indefinite postponement of the final leg of Harry's tour following a family emergency. At this stage, we do not know when the dates will proceed. We know this news is upsetting and will come as a shock to you all. We ask that you respect Harry's privacy at this time, and the privacy of his loved ones. Full Stop Management, on behalf of Harry Styles.

Will be posted as white text on black background on all channels. Comments disabled where they can be.

Awaiting your approval.

Love to you all, DB

We didn't say anything, and I knew Harry was waiting for me to speak first. It was straightforward and clinical, which was often the way with the communication out from Harry's team. This felt different, though, because it was talking about something deeply personal, without talking about it at all. I knew the layer of distance was protection. Harry was very deliberate in putting there.

"I think that's what you have to say, right? Is there anything else you'd like to include?"

Harry shook his head, "No."

"You didn't want it to come from you?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I only wanted eyes on it, I'm turning off my work phone after this. Dan can reach me if he needs to. Otherwise, I'm not working right now. I want this handled professionally, not personally."

"Okay," I wouldn't have minded if he'd felt the opposite, but wasn't surprised to hear him say it. "Well, I think you give them the okay then turn it off."

I watched him type out a quick response and do just that. He didn't hesitate or second guess it, just sent off his approval and that was that. The screen went black a few moments later, plunging the room back into darkness and I wondered if Harry was thinking about the fallout. What the next step he wasn't going to be involved in would mean. I wrapped my fingers around Harry's wrist and brought it to my mouth, kissing the warm skin there and then holding it to my lips.

"I'm not worried about it, Nina," he said eventually, turning his head to the side once more and finding my temple with his mouth, kissing me, "Just want Layk to be alright."

I woke up four hours later to Harry's phone ringing.

"Shit, sorry," he jogged into the bedroom and ripped if from where it was charging, "It's your mum."

I sat up in the sheets straight away, the initial shock of waking to the noise increasing tenfold by who was on the phone. Harry had it answered and on speakerphone almost instantly.

"Hi Mae," he said, lowering himself down to sit on his side of the bed.

"Hello, love, we just tried Nina's phone—"

"—I was asleep, I'm here, is he okay?" I cut over her speaking, staring at Harry's face in front of me.

I could hear movement behind her in the speaker, "Yes, yes, yes," she reassured us, I watched Harry let out half the breath he was holding, "The doctors have just been in, and they've made the adjustments that will wake him up. They think it'll still be another few hours—"

—We'll be there within the hour," Harry told her nodding despite my mum not being able to see it.

"Hopefully before that," I added quickly.

After getting off the phone with my mum, Harry and I sat still for half a beat before I realised I'd been clutching the bedsheets too tightly. My white knuckles released the material slowly and rubbed my palms down my face.

"Have another shower," Harry suggested, still watching me, "Wake up properly. I'll order some room service we can pack and take with us."

"Did you sleep at all?" I asked as he stood up and started walking out of the room, I pushed back the covers and rose to my knees.

"Yeah, I got up about half an hour ago to check in with mum and for a stretch, got some kinks in my back from the flight and—

—And me sleeping on you?"

He scrunched his nose up at me, "Maybe a little bit, now go," Harry nodded towards the bathroom door.

The shower helped with the fuzzy shock still hanging in my skull like a cloud. Eventually, the reality of the call with my mum set in and urgency set in. I shut off the water and got out, feeling something close to optimistic hope bloom. As I dried off and found fresh clothes to put on, I could hear Harry moving around the room. By the time I was coming out of the bedroom looking for the shoes I'd deserted when we had arrived earlier, he had a few brown paper bags and pieces of fruit sitting on the hotel dining table ready to take with us.

"Can you see my sneakers?" I asked him vaguely, hopping over his open suitcase that somehow hadn't made it into the bedroom.

He looked up from his seat, "At the door."

I hopped on one foot when I returned to the living area where Harry was, and, eventually, I dropped down onto the sofa beside him to slip on my shoes. Just as I was about to ask Harry if he was ready to go, his phone rang out loudly again.

"Richard?" He said quickly as soon as he answered, Harry, held his phone vertically out between us. "We're just about to leave the room."

"Oh good!" My dad's voice rang out, happy and lighter than it felt I'd heard in days.

Had it really still only been a day?

"Lakyn's awake!"

"What?" I exhaled, "Mum said it would take hours."

"That's brilliant," Harry said after me, a surprised grin on his face, "How is he?"

"Talking to your mum in the room now," dad continued, "He's groggy and a little disoriented, but he's awake."

The tears burst out of me immediately, loud, ugly tears that didn't arrive quietly, "Dad."

"I imagine he'll be asleep again by the time you get here," he told us, "But we told him you're here. He gave us a dopey smile."

"We're coming right now," Harry promised urgently. "Just as soon as Nina can manage to get her second shoe on."

My thumb kept slipping, and my heel would land outside the shoe again, I swatted Harry's shin at his teasing.

"It's because she doesn't undo the laces. And get her to stop crying," dad laughed, "You know how her brother hates any grand show of emotions."

"Shut up," I sniffled to them both, relief flooding through me in waves I couldn't quite believe. I violently shoved my foot into the sneaker one last time and wriggled it until it slipped in properly, "Ah! It's on. We're on our way, dad."

Harry deposited his phone into the pocket of the short sleeve, button-up shirt he was wearing. When I met his eyes, we were both smiling.

Harry shook his head and laughed, "Your fucking brother."

"He's awake!" I squeaked, crawling over Harry's lap and crossing my arms behind his neck. His hands settled on my waist, warm and steady, I planted a firm kiss on his lips, "I love you."

He smiled against me, "I love you too. Let's go."

Laykn slept for nearly six hours.

It was nearly 2pm by the time we got to the hospital, and when we arrived, my parents were sitting on either side of my brother, each with a book opened on their laps. A stark contrast to having sat watching him for any sign of movement for almost the entire twenty-four hours previous. There was a new calmness to the room, it felt less like an emergency situation somehow.

"Hi," Harry said behind me as we walked in and interrupted them.

My mum was up and hugging us both hardly a moment later. Harry and I got the recap on Laykn, and what his doctors were saying now he had woken up and fallen asleep. While we were talking, Harry slipped out, and it wasn't until he returned with four take away cups of tea I realised where he disappeared to.

And so then we waited.

Harry and my dad found a deck of cards and worked their way through all the games they knew between them. For a while, I sat to moderate and score. My mum sat at Laykn's side with her book, and about three hours in I pulled out Harry's laptop to try to get a few bars of symphony down. I gave up after another hour or so, his software wasn't up to date, and I couldn't remember the section I wanted to work on. Where momentary relief had cured my mind for most things, it still wasn't in work mode. I could hear the game of Snap starting to get nasty, Harry with his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration while my dad completely crushed him each round. I interfered before the name-calling could get particularly nasty, plonking myself down on Harry's lap and declaring my hunger to the room.

"I'd have beaten you that time," Harry insisted, dropping his cards on the table, "Nina broke my focus."

My dad rolled his eyes, "Sure you would've, son."

"Harry's got sandwiches," I announced, "One of them has mustard in, I had a sneaky peek as we left the hotel."

My mum stood up and stretched out her back, "I" m not quite ready for food yet, we did tell people at home we'd call them when it was morning their time. Richard, I could use a walk?"

My dad stood obediently, and pressed a kiss to my head as he walked past, "Look after our loser," he said of Harry with an amused smile on his face.

"Well," I let a puff of breath out once Harry and I had the room to ourselves, "That was rude? Why didn't they want to eat with us?"

Harry started pushing me off his legs, "Because we only had lunch two hours ago. They' v been in this room all night, I understand the need for a walk. It's good you're hungry, though."

I watched as Harry rummaged around in his backpack and pulled out a brown paper bag and two bottles of water. He returned to the table but took the seat my dad left, resting his elbows on the table and watching me with mild humour as I tore into the bag.

"I have to tell you something."

I frowned through chewing my first bite, Harry's face was unreadable if not a touch guilty, "What?"

Harry's eyebrows dug down as he looked to his hands on the table, "I told my mum … About being pregnant."

An incredulous laugh bubbled out of me, "Harry! You told her? What?"

"I know!" He cried out, "We're not meant to. I know. But with everything going on, I was so worried and stressed and fucking terrified for you. I didn't know how to deal with it all without talking to someone."

"Harry," I said softly. He was so earnest, and the concern was apparent on his face, "I'm okay."

"Didn't know that this morning," Harry mumbled. "I just needed her advice and help with what to do."

"It's okay," I took another bite of mustard and cheese goodness, "What did she say?"

That's when the smile appeared on Harry's face, "She's really happy about the baby. It was hard to keep her on track, really. She had good advice as well, just needed a clear head in on it with me, you know? I mean, then your dad rang and now things are a little lighter."

I knew how much Harry trusted his mother's judgement, and I truly loved it about him. Anne was a steadying force in his life, and when Harry couldn't trust himself, he could always trust her to have the answer. I had come to trust her voice in our lives as well.

"She's happy?"

"Yeah," Harry breathed out, and his smile turned into a megawatt grin, "Bloody elated."

"I'm glad you told her," I said honestly, "I'm sorry you've had to be so worried. I—

"—Hey, no," Harry frowned at me again and gestured to Laykn's bed without looking, "This is exactly where your head is supposed to have been. The baby happened so quickly before we left, it's… It's hard to keep everything in my brain at the moment, really."

"Whose baby?" A voice across the other side of the room said.

Harry and I both shot to our feet and turned to Laykn whose eyes were open and looking at the hospital ceiling, unfocused, but once I was at his side, they were clear and unmistakably those of my younger brother.

"Laykn," I breathed out, "Laykn, hi."

"Hey," he croaked out, "You're having a baby?"

I could barely see him from the tears brimming in my eyes, and just as I was about to evade the question, Harry spoke.

"We are."

"Harry," I hissed through an almost-laugh. "Stop telling people!"

"I might forget," Laykn piped up again, "Although I remember mum and dad saying you two were here … Was that today?"

"Yeah, mate," Harry responded, pressing his hand on the bed above Laykn's shoulder and leaning up over into his line of sight, "You spoke to them this morning. It's nearly 5pm now."

An expression fluttered on Laykn's face but couldn't stay there from the bandages. When he spoke, it strained his voice to try and inflect the humour behind it, "So my brains aren't leaking out my ears?"

"Laykn!" I scolded.

"Not yet, Layk," Harry said evenly.

I watched Laykn's eyes close in an exhausted flutter, "Are you really having a baby?"

Something softened in me at the sudden vulnerability in his voice and the way it was clearly difficult for him to be conscious this short amount of time, "We are," I told him, "We only just found out though, so you've got to keep the secret for us. Mum and dad don't know."

"Ah," Laykn sighed, "I can keep my mouth shut, but it'll cost 'ya."

I sniffed back, tears, "You idiot."

Whether it was our news or the moment, or Harry hovering over him and me scolding him, I watched Laykn's eyes pool as well. The skin around his eyes reddened, and a tear budded and then rolled down his cheek.

"I'm really fucking glad you're both here," he said through the emotion.

"Of course," Harry responded, "We love you. It's so good to hear your voice, mate. You scared us all."

"I scared me," my brother added quietly.

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jamaiskookie · 4 years

Text

bangtan headcanon: OT7 IN HIGH SCHOOL 📓✂️

☞ genre; fluff, crack

☞ warnings; excessively stupid

masterlist u wanna talk to highschool!bangtan?

《KIM SEOKJIN》

class clown

always manages to sneak kimbap in class, and stuffs his face despite being in the front row.

he’s alarmingly good at sneaking food into places.

cafeteria ladies love jin so much.

and every christmas he brings in his perfected sugar cookies and never shares them.

(he’s in the cooking club)

((he’s the only one in the cooking club))

will interrupt the teacher to make a bad joke.

“yes so helium is the fo- oh yes seokjin?“

“i was reading an excellent book about helium, i couldn’t put it down!! ahHAHAHHYUKHYUKAHHAHAHHA“

nobody’s?? really sure?? if he’s dating namjoon or not?? it’s the schools biggest mystery, there’s currently a betting pool going on worth about $500

likes to annoy namjoon and yoongi about holding bake sales.

is surprisingly good at planning parties?? but never hosts them?? hoseok always gets him to plan his parties and he even planned prom!!

he’s particularly proud with the theme he came up with.

‘zombie meets elegance‘

it was actually pretty nicely pulled off (much to the shock of the entire student body)

《MIN YOONGI》

student council president

takes his job very!! seriously!!

fights with the principal on funding daily.

doesn’t come to school without coffee and resting bitch face.

even the teachers are afraid of this short little emo boy.

is the only one who actually wears the school uniform properly with the little tie and jacket because that’s how you show school spirit.

definitely that closeted gay in high school who thinks nobody knows about his homosexuality when in fact, everyone knows.

(nobody has the guts to bring it up to him though)

“hyung why are you staring at jimin’s as-“

“-NO WHY GET BACK TO WORK”

actually enjoys doing morning announcements.

“make sure to check out jin’s dumb bake sale i think he’s selling brownies for some charitable reason anYWAYS time for min’s advice column!!“

min’s advice column is yoongi’s free therapy. namjoon suggested adding an advice column to the school paper so now yoongi just judges his classmates’s decisions gives subpar advice.

“i personally think you have no chance with this girl, but you’re clearly hell bent on asking her out. it’s a dumb choice. good luck.“

《JUNG HOSEOK》

fuckboy

throws obnoxious parties at his parent’s huge ass mansion.

somehow?? is?? the nicest? playboy??? evER??

will respect your girl’s boundaries but also would 300% hit on her when you’re not looking.

aftercare king wILL cuddle with you and help you clean up or whatever until jimin eventually comes in screaming.

his school id says “hobi 💦👅” ... noone knows how he managed to do it (taehyung thinks he seduced the secretary)

surprisingly good at romance even though he deTests dating

“it’s a waste of time, money, and ass.“ “- what?”

gives everyone dating advice whether they want it or nOt- he lives his *shhh very secret* romantic fantasies through his best friends.

once helped taehyung ask out his girlfriend... they’re still going strong!!

defo has daddy issues that he never talks about,, maybe if a girl finds it sexc™️ in that kind of messed-up-bad-boy-she-could-fix vibe he’ll bring it up

kinda failing science lmao he probably needs a tutor.. but will never admit he needs a tutor for sake of his pride.

most definitely has had sex in the janitor’s closet a couple times, up until yoongi caught him once, reported him to the school board and got him suspended... for a month.

(yoongi has no regrets, that was the best month of his life.)

《KIM NAMJOON》

student vice president

honestly would probably be the council president and is the most qualified for it but can’t be bothered.

plus he hates public speaking and the president has to speak at assemblies.

genuinely enjoys learning!! bUT HATES GROUP PROJECTS

because every single fucking time taehyung and jimin pester him about teaming up and he ends up doing like 75% of the work.

not because anyone forces him to or anything.

it’s because jimin and tae are such dumbasses every time they finish their work namjoon has a sudden uRGE TO REDO ALL OF IT BC THEY GOT IT WRONG.

tries to take all AP subjects.

gives up and drops half of them by the second semester.

great student but also will “no yoongi i don’t want to fucking play basketball i've been awake for thirty hours trying to finish this goddamn essay that’s due tomorrow. wHAT DO YOU MEAN WHY DIDN’T I DO IT EARLIER I WAS BUSY TAKING CARE OF MY BONSAI TREES.“

started the school paper!! it’s called “persona post”

writes about actual relevant things like political events and global problems, but everyone else just writes about school gossip *sigh*

although that one column examining hobi’s sex and dating life was a pretty fun piece of writing to read through.

he sits in the back of the classroom and never raises his hand even though he knows the answer like 95% of the time.

definitely has a crush on seokjin

《PARK JIMIN》

the one everyone has a crush on

and when i say everyone i mean everyone, even hoseok has had a crisis over park jimin.

(jungkook is definitely president of his fan club) ((in case it wasn’t clear, he’s dating jungkook))

school’s golden boy, basically gets away with everything with a bat of an eye... and the most infuriating thing is he doesn’t even realise it.

“omg jimin!! you’re so cute!! this shirt looks sO good on you, can i touCH?” “omg thank you i didn’t think it fit well because it’s my boyfriends but that’s so sweet!!” “boy... hm?”

mom friend: sweetest bitch alive and is always worrying about his friends but everyone knows he’s secretly really fucking kinky.

(again, jungkook has no comment)

the kind of person who celebrates christmas in june.

literally- he starts putting decorations in his locker and around the school mid june. by november, he’s wearing reindeer ears to school.

*lowkey kind of a nerd* genuinely enjoys studying with namjoon.

“well, studying with anybody else is just too stressful!! plus, namjoon’s so chill. he doesn’t look like it but he actually is super sweet and nice!!!“

“... please take those reindeer ears off, it’s embarrassing.“

half of the school would probably cut off an arm to sleep with him. seriously, he gets offers like everYDAY it’s kinda getting tiRING

is considering starting a youtube channel where he just takes videos of all the dogs and babies he meets throughout the day.

“idk i think vlogging would be fun“

《KIM TAEHYUNG》

art hoe

nEVER FUCKING STUDIES OR PAYS ATTENTION BUT GETS DECENT GRADES.

the definition of bisexual mess, WILL trip when he sees hot people.

exclusively wears wired gold glasses and soft neutral sweaters to school. if it’s a good day he’ll wear a beanie. on special occasions he’ll maybe throw in some fUN loafers.

dyes his hair to match ~the vibes~ of that season. the most recent wild hair colour is cool toned teal.

jungkook said he looks like leprechaun shit, but tae really likes it.

tried to go vegan countless times, failed each and every one when he passed by a mc donalds.

carries his sketchbook wherever he goes. he has that thing around 24/7, 100% would not be surprised if he slept with it under his pillow.

really quiet until he has a point to make;; like that time where he launched into a three hour screaming lecture on how phineas and ferb is an animated masterpiece.

drinks tea purely for the aesthetic of it.

goes to hipster coffee shops to pretend to study... ends up watching barbie movies and critiquing them on the writing blog that he thinks nobody knows about.

watches anime in class (he recently rewatched all of ATLA for the third time,, failed his econ class but worth it!!1!!1)

《JEON JUNGKOOK》

preppy jock

once again, everyone is attracted to him, but he’s so whipped for jimin everyone’s crush fades away once they talk to him because-

“oh it’s so cool that you have a dog!! you know, i think jimin kind of looks like a pomeranian sometimes it’s sO CUTE- hm? oh jimin’s my boyfriend.“

... it’s disgustingly adorable.

plays almost every sport and is somehow always the team captain. not out of obligation or with leadership skills or anything, everyone else just votes for him.

mess with his friends and he’ll put a stink bomb in your locker.

his nickname is “golden baby” because he’s good at everything, teachers love him so much.

grades? sTELLAR. sports? he’s done them ALL. creativity? pAINTED THE SCHOOL MURAL. service? volunteers at a pet shelter whenever he can (the bunnies love him for some reason)

everyone either is

a) in love w him, wants to fuck

b) jealous of him but is also secretly gay for him

pretends to not know how talented and cool he is and plays it off super cool

proceeds to fail, the only thing he’s bad at is humble bragging.

“wow omg lol i got a 100 on my bio test and yesterday i got a hole in one in golf, my first time playing it but it’s chill i guess hahhah day in my life amirite.“

**this headcanon is the start of the bangtan school series, stay tuned**

wanna be tagged in school series or my writing? here or send me an ask

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null-whump · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 7

I need to stop cutting this so close to the deadline wow. Anyway this is technically a continuation of a section I posted a while ago, found here, but it can also be read stand alone.

Warnings: Sickness? Nothing else really

Word Count: 946

Whumptober Prompt 7 – Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

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I was cold, so cold, and my head pounded in a rhythm with my heart. My breathing was shallow, and my chest hurt whenever it expanded. I was shivering violently, but my clothing and hair was drenched with sweat. My mouth was horribly dry, and my throat felt like I had swallowed knives. I knew, distantly, that I must be sick.

I heard something, a voice, far above me, but everything sounded like it was underwater and I couldn’t focus. Something pushed against my ribs and I groaned weakly. I felt a hand, brushing through my hair, then my head was lifted off the ground. I cracked my eyes open and saw, blearily, the figure in front of me, before I let my eyes slide shut again. I heard angry muttering, like a buzzing in my ears. I whimpered and curled in on myself further.

“….Can’t believe you’re sick…” I heard, then more buzzing.

I felt more movement, and made a weak noise of protest, then felt the ground disappear from under me. I gasped at the sudden sense of vertigo, clutching weakly at the arms that I realized were carrying me.

“Don’t get used to this,” I heard, and had just enough presence of mind to be afraid of the icy voice.

But being held was warm, and I was so cold, that I found myself relaxing into his grip. Then I was being lowered, and the warmth was moving away, and I tried to protest but couldn’t get the words past my raw throat. The bond in the back of my mind tingled with worry, and for a moment all I could see was Sam, her eyebrows pinched together in concern, sitting beside me while I was sick. Without thinking, I reached out, desperate.

“Don’t leave, please…Sam, please.”

I felt more movement, then a voice again. “…Fever must be higher than I thought.”

The warmth retreated completely, but then I felt something being pulled over me, something warm and heavy and comforting. As I began to drift off into sleep, lulled by the sense of comfort, I felt a hand brush against my forehead.

When I awoke again, I had only a little more awareness; enough to recognize the scent of warm broth in the bowl that was being held to my lips. Drinking it soothed my aching throat, and I felt it warm me from the inside. Then the bowl disappeared and was replaced by the cold rim of a glass bottle. The contents slid into my mouth, and I recoiled at the taste, horribly bitter. I tried to turn my head away, but a firm hand was keeping me in place.

“Stop resisting,” a low voice ordered. “Drink it, pet.”

I managed to force down the awful liquid, then eagerly drank the water that was offered after. I slept again, and when I woke again, I was given more of the terrible potion before sleep pulled me back under. I awoke several more times, sometimes greeted with water, or more broth, or nothing at all.

Finally, I woke and found that I could think clearly. The first thing I noticed was the softness of whatever I was laying on. I twitched my fingers, coaxing my hand into movement, and stretched out my arm, feeling the surface. I froze.

A bed. A blanket – more than one blanket. A pillow. My eyes flew open and I pushed myself onto my elbows, wincing at the surge of dizziness caused by the sudden movement. I hadn’t been imagining it. I slowly looked around the room, almost afraid of what I might find. There was nothing out of the ordinary. I recognized the room, a spare bedroom that had only been used one time that I could remember.

The door opened, and I flinched, then my fear mounted when Varren stepped into the room. Surely he would be angry – I wasn’t supposed to be here, not in a bed – I somehow managed to pull myself off the bed and land on the floor, too scared to register the pain in my knees.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t – I didn’t –”

Varren cut me off with an exasperated sigh. “Really, pet? How do you expect to get back up now, in your state?”

I froze, unsure of how to react. My initial panic had faded, and now I realized that I was horribly tired, and I didn’t think I could move my limbs at all. Varren stepped forward and placed something on the low table next to the bed, then reached down. I flinched, expecting him to pull me roughly to my feet at best, and was surprised when he moved slowly, then gently pushed me back into the impossible comfort of the bed.

I swallowed nervously, afraid to speak. Varren picked up what he had set on the table, which I now saw was a bowl – soup – and held it out.

“Go on,” he said when I didn’t move. “You’re not much use to me when you can barely move.”

I carefully reached to take the bowl, trying to keep my hands from shaking. It was with monumental effort that I was able to eat, my hand shaking whenever I raised the spoon. Varren watched me the entire time, his face expressionless. He took the bowl when I had finished and turned to leave.

“Sleep,” he ordered, and I barely registered hitting the pillow.

It was another day before Varren ordered me out of bed, and I could walk and function properly again. I didn’t have to be told what to do. I lowered myself to my knees, slowly, my body still protesting the movement.

“Thank you, sir.”

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Tag list! Let me know if you want to be added or removed, or if I somehow missed your name.

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @shameless-whumper @whumpity--whump--whump @whumpitywhumpwhump @nervous-writer @this-zombie-will-eat-you @abyssshifter @whumpersworld @whatwasmyprevioususername @scared-and-crying @whatwhumpcomments @blackrosesandrhyme @amethystpath

#whumptober2020 #no.7 #carrying #enemy to caretaker #sickness tw #whump #nonhuman whumpee #my ocs: felix #my ocs: varren #my ocs: sam (mentioned)

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