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himbos-hotline · 2 years

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fictober prompt two: "nobody warned you about me?" fandom: AEW [fanfiction] Name: I should've known you'd bring me heartache [Almost lovers always do] Word count: 1911 words Ship: one winged cowboys Characters: Adam Page, Kenny Omega, mentions of Doc Sampson Triggers: Unrequited love, Kenny is kinda an asshole here, Very breif mentions of smut but nothing graphic, anxiety, mentions of self harm/ self injury, wounds- mentions of bruises, blood, toxic masculinty Authors note: I know this is late but I got hit by depression which caused a creative block. Until now so I am buring through some. Yeah I really just project onto hanger here. The love isn't rejected. Kenny is just an asshole to hide his emotions. Also none of this is gonna be beta read, so if theres typos or reads weirdly im sorry /gen Taglist: @itsnoosetome @the-house-of-cards

Reblogs are appreciated // kudos and comments are appreciated on AO3

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“What?” he hums, tangling a soft blond curl around his fingers as if he was sewing ribbons of heaven into the clouds themselves. Adam barely feels the tug and suddenly control is the last thing he has, his chin tilts upwards and he gathers Kenny into a kiss that feels like it's outshining the moon. Painted by starlight their bodies shift as one, Kennys name falls from his lips like an angel's prayer, low and bright and shimmering.

Looking into Kenny’s eyes feels like someone pouring salt into his wounds. He runs his tongue against the inside of his lip, ignoring the dull way that it stings. He follows the movement in his mind; left to right, left to right; slow and in time to his breathing. Green eyes focus distantly on his hands, tracing the drying blood that digs itself into his pale skin. It wasn’t a match that neither of them expected and now they sit, opposite ends of the medical room, staring at each other from the corner of their eyes.

Doc Samson sighs, tilting Adam’s head back to survey the wound on his forehead. Gloved hands brush against the fresh clot and blood slowly starts to ooze across his forehead again, brushing against his eyebrows before being wiped away with cotton pads. “A few stitches should keep this closed.” The doctor replies, pinching the torn bits of skin between his fingers.

“Okay..” All Adam wanted to do was curl under itchy hotel covers and nurse a bottle of whiskey as the night rolled past his windows. There’s a dull tug as his forehead is stitched up and soon he’s discharged to the locker room to shower and rest up. He goes to stand before a small voice squeaks in the back of his head and he sits down again, staring at Kenny with wide eyes.

Kenny blinks, pressing an ice pack against his shoulder. “What?” He scoffs, using his tongue to prod at a cut on his lip. Adam tries not to stare as his bottom lip swells slightly but his eyes follow Kenny’s tongue as it toys with the new wound like a lip ring. It's a small movement that Adam has to lean slowly to watch, the bench squeaking under his movements. “Stop staring at me. It's weird.” Kenny complains finally, shoulders hunching forward slightly as if Adam’s gaze was scalding, it sends a pang of emotions through Adam's stomach and he darts his eyes to stare back at his own hands. He hears Kenny sigh and then the sound of boots scuffing against the floor, uneven and stiff.

“I wasn't staring.” Adam complains, slumping against the other side. There's a gentle sigh and then the feeling of an arm wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “You're just a dick.”

“I am not a dick!” Kenny protests childishly, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout that makes Adam puff out a laugh through his nose. Beads of blood begin to bubble out the cut on Kenny’s lip and Adam wants nothing more than to lean forward and kiss them away before they stain his skin. “You're staring again, Hanger.”

“Sorry-”

Anxious green eyes stare at the arm wrapped around his shoulder, tracing bulging veins across the top of his hand; bright blue streams connecting to the river of his wrist, small islands of chewed nails and the sea that made up the rest of his body. His stomach knots awkwardly, suddenly feeling heavy at his swinging feet.

“Are ya done here?” Adam asks eventually, cracking his neck in hope that it breaks the feeling that seems to be slowly flooding his system. It doesn’t work and pain begins to grow behind his eyes, spreading out across his skull in angry waves. He rubs his eyes with his palms, smearing the last of fresh blood against the apples of his cheeks, staining them like warpaint and when stars fall away from his eyes, Adam catches Kenny staring, head tilted to the side. “What?”

“Nothing….Yeah, yeah I'm ready to go. You?” Kenny isn't sure why Adam stayed or why he chose to wrap him close to his body but there's a longing when he pulls away that paints itself so deeply in his bones, Kenny is sure that Adam’s name is branded into his bone marrow.

He shrugs a shirt over his head and smooths sore hands against the fabric and cracks a half smile when he turns back around, finding Adam still sitting on the bench, blood stained and wide eyed on the bench.

He tilts his shoulders back,sticks his chin out a little and holds out his hand. “You comin Cowboy?”

Adam takes his hand, linking sweaty fingers between colder ones and pressing calloused palm to calloused palm.

It feels real, strangely human. It feels like love.

Adam clings to Kenny’s hand as they exit the medical room. Bruises blossom over their skin, blood dries against sweat-stained skin, pain pulses through them like a poison, the tag titles shimmer against the dull lights of backstage. Pride swirls like sky dancers in their eyes and as they share half glances in the locker room mirror, the two of them smile and feel their hearts merge into one aggressive symphony.

They’re laying on the bed; watching the moonlight dance on the ceiling of Adam’s hotel room when Kenny leans closer and brushes his lips against the curve of Adam's jaw. It's quick and innocent and brings blood flooding across the tips of his ears as it drizzles down his face, painting his pale skin in a rose-like blush. Kenny giggles and props himself up on his elbows.

In the morning, pale skin is kissed by the sun's rays and Adam rolls over, feeling his fingers brush against stained sheets. A whine pulls itself from the depths of his chest and he rolls over slowly, eyes blinking awake in the early morning sun. “Kenny?” He whispers, fingers gripping at the last stray sections of warmth from the comforter that lays tossed at the bottom of the bed.

There’s no trace of Kenny Omega in the hotel room; no clothes scattered on the floor, no body that lays warm and human against his fingertips. He was simply a ghost that existed in the dullness of pain and euphoria stained memories. “Oh.” He sighs, collapsing back into the sheets, burying his face in the pillows.

There’s a small part of him that understands. Adam isn’t what people look for in a partner;.people want men who wear greens and reds, people want men whose voice doesn’t quivver. They don't want the anxious wannabe cowboy who talks to animals more than people and dresses himself in doll-like pinks and bright yellows.

People don’t want Adam Page.

Kenny doesn’t want Adam page.

He presses his face against his pillow, pinning it against his face until colors swirl against the white pillowcase and black dots begin to cloud his vision. His lungs burn for air and Adam takes in hefty gasps when he pulls the pillow away. The sun presses its warm hands against his bare skin and Adam jolts away, placing bare feet against the old hotel carpet.

He showers away the last few stray spirits of Kenny off his skin; shame burning every movement.

Kenny calls him an hour after he steps out of the shower. His voice is soft and buzzes around Adam's head like a bee, it stings his ears and Adam feels like there's spiders under his skin.

“You're unnaturally quiet Cowboy. Whats sup?” Kenny asks, chuckling over the sound of video game music.

“Why did you leave?” The question falls from his mouth like dying petals and it sits on the floor in front of him, draws itself like a chalk outline on the sheets mapping itself around the long since shaken out indent that Kenny had left behind. The phone line crackles and Adam tilts his phone as if trying to make Kenny’s voice fall out of it.

“Nobody warned me about me?” Kenny laughs and it makes Adam feel dirty. “It’s just a thing I do with my partners. We win, I sleep with them and then I go back to my room. It's like a reward. Afterall, I did get the pin yesterday I think I deserved something.``

“Oh…right.” He’s picking awkwardly at his phone case, nails tapping against the plastic annoyingly. Adam wishes his hands would still, that his brain would whirr up sentences. But he feels like he's shutting down.

“You’re just something to do, Hangy.”

Adam doesn’t say anything. Just feels his lungs still in his chest and feels his mouth go dry. His teeth feel on edge as if someone had brushed them with barbed wire and cotton pads. The line clicks close and Adam tilts his body forward, pressing aching fingers to his temples. His blunt nails scratch against the stitches that peak out his hairline like a curious snake. He curls a finger and yelps at the pain that floods his system.

He thumbs over bruises and half expects his hands to come back soot stained and filthy and Adam is almost surprised when he’s met by the same pale skin he always sees.

Dirt feels like it sticks under his skin and Adam feels like he needs to turn his skin inside out. He retreats to the shower, turning it to its hottest setting. The water blanches his skin a red and he tries to not focus on how familiar the red looked on his skin. How it almost matched the red that painted his face as Kenny whimpered his name, pressing his face into the curve of his neck.

Water turns red, then pink, then clear again as Adam creates a canvas of wounds over his hips. A private artwork done by a shattered artist that will never be put on display. It tingles and he rolls his head back against the wall as he drops his implement of creation.

He turns the water off and stays leaning against the wall, blinking through a curtain of dark hair and chilling water droplets that trace their way down his cheeks. The feeling of disgust is still there, burning like a wildfire in his heart.

His reflection stares at him from the foggy mirror across the hall. Judgemental eyes blink at him and Adam wants nothing more than to slam his balled up fists against his reflection face until the glass shatters and he's as unrecognizable as he feels. Instead, he just grabs a towel and drops his chin, walking past the mirror as if it was a judgemental parent.

He dresses, long sleeves and loose jeans and smiles thankfully when room service changes his sheets, joyfully relieved when the cleaner doesn't spot stray stains against the white.

The cart wheels squeak as she pushes it out his room and finally alone, Adam curls back into bed. He closes his eyes and pulls his legs to his chest.

Maybe he had warned himself about Kenny omega. Maybe he should have held his heart closer to his chest, drowned it so deeply in alcohol that it painted his bloodstream amber brown and sap like in his veins. Maybe he should paint his body in gloriously disgusting scars until he’s being held together by strings of tendons and the last ribbons of muscle.

Maybe destroying himself would make Kenny’s heart call back to his swan song.

#fictober22 #writing challenge #aew wrestling #hangman page #kenny omega #OWC #one winged cowboys

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1heartfanfics · 4 years

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Nauseous Nathan and Hazel on a date?

Okay I’ve been avoiding this prompt for a while now, sorry about that anon, I’m not sure why I usually love writing some sick Nath! Anyway, here it is, it ended up getting really emotional...

TW: mentions of abuse

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“Is something wrong with your food?” Hazel asked, trying to catch Nathan’s eye. He wouldn’t look at her for some reason, and he wouldn’t eat any of his dinner either.

“I’m just not that hungry,” he shrugged. ‘Not hungry’ was an understatement. He felt like if he put anything into his stomach he would throw up right there in that restaurant.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Hazel laughed, “Is this kind of not hungry where you end up eating three pieces of pizza after or the real kind of not hungry?” she asked.

“I had lunch really late at work today so I’m just not hungry yet I guess,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders again.

“Okay, what did you have for lunch?” Hazel asked. There was clearly something else going on here, but she was waiting to see if he would just tell her himself.

“Uh, they brought in sandwiches from that place in the mall,” he said, still looking down at the plate of pasta that he was just stirring around. Looking at it was making him feel even more nauseous than he already did, but he knew he couldn’t look at Hazel without giving himself away.

“Oh, I love that place! That’s cool that they brought in food,” Hazel smiled, watching him sadly. He obviously didn’t feel well, she didn’t understand why he couldn’t just tell her.

“Mhmm,” he hummed in agreement, stabbing at a piece of chicken on his plate. Hazel sighed, rolling her eyes and flagging down their waitress.

“You guys doing alright?” the waitress asked.

“Could we get the check please? And two to-go boxes,” Hazel asked her.

“Of course, I’ll be right back,” she said, heading back towards the kitchen.

“We’re leaving?” Nathan asked, looking up at her for the first time since they’d sat down. He tried not to sound too relieved, but he honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, lay down, and hopefully rub his belly into submission.

“Yeah babe,” she sighed.

“Here you go,” their waitress came back, setting down the two boxes and their ticket.

“Thanks,” Hazel smiled, already pulling out her wallet. She placed a $20 on top of their bill and scooted it towards the edge of the table.

“Are you mad at me?” Nathan asked, “I’m sorry I know I haven’t been super fun tonight, I’m just really tired I guess.”

“You’re not just tired, I know you aren’t feeling well. And yeah, Nath, I am kinda mad. Because after all this time we’ve been together you still don’t trust me enough to just tell me when something’s wrong, and that kinda pisses me off,” she snapped.

Nathan was quiet, staring down at his food again. Hazel moved her food into the styrofoam box, then reached over and pulled Nathan’s plate towards her to put it in the other box. He continued to just stare down at the table though, blinking back tears. He wished he could tell her, he really did, but it just wasn’t that easy. She didn’t understand.

“Ready?” Hazel asked, standing up with both of their boxes of food.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, standing up as well and following her out of the restaurant. Once they’d gotten in her car she handed him the boxes, setting them in his lap. The smell of the food wafting up towards him was too much though, and he gagged.

“Nath?” Hazel asked, looking over at him. He had a fist pressed to his mouth, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. His face had gone a deathly shade of pale.

“My stomach is really messed up right now Haz, I might throw up,” he was finally able to answer, breathing through his nose. After a few more deep breaths he was able to get his stomach under control, enough to stay in place for now at least.

“Alright, okay let’s put these in the back seat,” she took the boxes from him, having realized what had set him off. She twisted around to put them in the backseat, then turned back to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. He felt tears welling in his eyes again, spilling over down his cheeks this time.

“It’s okay, I probably shouldn’t have snapped at you anyway, you’re not feeling good,” she shrugged, feeling guilty for making her sick boyfriend cry, even if he was being a stubborn idiot.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you...” he said, trailing off. Tears continued to fall, dripping down his face and making spots on his jeans.

“Then why don’t you? I mean you know that I’ll always take care of you, so I just don’t understand why,” Hazel sighed, feeling exasperated.

“At home,” Nathan sighed, sniffling and wiping a sleeve across his eyes to dry the tears, “At home we didn’t g-get to be sick. It’s a weakness. We’d get y-yelled at o-or hit or...” he cut himself off with a sob.

“Oh, god sweetie,” Hazel cried, tears welling in her own eyes. She pushed the middle console up and slid over next to Nathan, pulling him into her arms. He pressed his face against her shoulder, sobbing into her shirt as he clutched onto her.

“I’m s-sorry,” he grabbed a fist full of her shirt in his hand. His other arm was wrapped around his tummy, rubbing it over his button up.

“It’s okay baby, you’re okay, I’ve got you,” she said, rocking back and forth slightly and trailing her fingers up and down his back, running her fingers through his hair with her other hand.

“Haz I’m so n-nauseous,” he cried, biting back a gag.

“I know, I know, just try to calm down okay? You’re getting yourself all worked up here. Just take some deep breaths Nath,” she said, feeling like a terrible person. Here she was yelling at him for not telling her when he was sick, when he’d grown up getting beat for it.

“Hngg,” he moaned, squirming against her. She felt his body go stiff, stomach contracting with a heave that thankfully didn’t bring anything up.

“Here, let me help okay? Just keep breathing,” she instructed. Then she reached between them, unbuttoning his shirt so she could rest her hand on his bare tummy. It was a little bloated, but still soft. She started to rub his upset belly, gently at first, in circles, then slowly adding more pressure. She mostly focused on the area over his belly button, but occasionally circled closer to his belt or up towards his ribs.

He sighed in relief, letting out a string of burps, turning limp in her arms. He nuzzled against her neck, having finally calmed, stopped crying. Must’ve just been all that trapped gas making him feel nauseous.

“Better?” she asked, still kneading the soft mound of his tummy.

“Yeah,” he sniffled, “I’m sorry for ruining our date.”

“You didn’t ruin our date love, it’s alright. I’m the one who’s sorry. I am so sorry I got mad at you, I had no idea,” Hazel shook her head.

“You had no way of knowing,” Nathan shrugged, sitting up to lean back in his own seat. He buttoned his shirt back up, but kept a hand resting over his tummy. “I should’ve told you about that a long time ago, it’s just hard to talk about I guess,” he continued.

“Yeah, I know. And I’m so sorry you had to deal with all that. Just know that I will never be upset at you or judge you for being sick. And that you can talk to me about anything, whenever you’re ready,” she told him, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. Then she scooted back over into the drivers seat and started the car.

“Okay,” he sniffed, “I love you Hazel,”

“I love you too. Now let’s get you home,” she said.

“My tummy’s still a little upset,” he agreed.

Hazel smiled. At least he was being open about it now. Progress.

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kryptsune · 7 years

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Doubt {WTU Frisk X Sans mini drabble}

So as you can see I got an anon ask to do a writing prompt which I adore doing especially if it’s shippy stuff like this. These two are my pride and joy <3 I am such a sap RIP. I love my floof This is a mini angst drabble with Red and Frisk that was requested. I am more than happy to do more of these if you all enjoy my writing just toss it into my ask box. @riskyredfontaine

~**SELF DOUBT PROMPT**~

~“I’ve made a lota mistakes sweetheart and you ain't one em.”~

Frisk had been with him for a couple months now. The skeleton she had once desperately tried to escape had trapped more than just her this time. He stole her heart. Once the barrier was down he had been his usual self except that changed when they returned to the comfort of their Snowdin home. Boss had already picked up on it causing a rather flustered scene at dinner one evening. The day had started just like any other. Frisk had been helping him with making the batter for the pancakes when he asked her if she was seeing any humans on the surface. Her response was just to shake her head and stare into the bowl of dry ingredients. The humans thought she was nothing but a messed up young girl. She lived with monsters, had monster friends, and was the adoptive daughter of one. To them it was unnatural and something that clearly made her sick in the mind. They were under the impression that she had some kind of Stockholm syndrome.

After a few moments of silence, the eldest skeleton brother added another word to the mix, “I SEE. PERHAPS A MONSTER THEN?” The question caught her off guard as she looked at him only to flush and continuing with her stirring. She was about to open her mouth when she heard a yawn from behind her accompanied by a familiar voice, “Mornin all.” She spoke up turning around with a smile, “Good morning Sans.” The younger gave her a raised eyebrow bone in question, “Yer pretty chipper this mornin ain'tcha?” Boss was looking at the two out of the corner of his eye socket in curiosity. He had already finished the batter but he pretended to look busy.

Frisk just shook her head gently, “What do you mean I am always like this.” He had his head gently resting in the hand he had propped up on the table with his elbow. He was just watching her with his red eye lights a little bit brighter in color than normal and a lazy grin on his face. Ever since that day he had been a nonstop flirt with her and now was probably no exception. It felt a little awkward though considering his brother was right next to her. A brother by all intensive purposes that could end them both if he really wanted to. He leaned a little forward on the counter, “Well guess ya got me there doll. Kinda hard not ta notice yer lack of energy lately.”

Frisk blinked in confusion and surprise as her smile faded from her lips. She supposed that she had felt rather distant lately but that was not anyone's fault but her own. She did not want to make anything complicated for them. They were her friends and family and her feelings were of no importance. She knew or rather hoped desperately that the feeling would pass. She looked at him with an expression that could only be one of pain and smiled, “I’m sorry I will work on that. There has been a lot of things on my mind.” She could feel his eye lights boring into the back of her skull as she turned to finish her breakfast duties with Boss.

Sans did not say a word as they all ate their breakfast in peace. It was the usual delicious spread with juices, and pancakes, some fruits, and toppings. When the Fontaine family had meals it was truly five star. In Boss’ book, it was beyond that which she could not blame him for in the slightest. He was still head of the Royal guard though it was not used as much anymore. He had looked into starting his own career on the surface or at the very least, and she was quoting here ‘that the humans deserved to try something rather than the slop they called food.’ She would not know as she had stayed in the Underworld long after the barrier had come down. She quickly helped with dishes only to begin the ascent to her room. The peaceful quiet was interrupted when she finally made it inside her room and shut the door.

She felt that familiar tingle of magic just behind her as a pair of skeletal arms came to wrap around her waist causing her to fall back into a ribcage. One that she had been quite familiar with. He was a little taller than her just enough to rest his chin on her head as she felt his fingers wandering. Why did he insist on doing this? It only made it that much harder on her, “Heya kitten thought ya might wanna spend tha rest of tha day with me~” She felt a knot forming in her stomach, “Sans p..please.” He nearly purred in her ear like some kind of predatory cat. She could feel his warm breath tickling the back of her neck and ear as he spoke, “Please what kitten. Tell me what ya want.~” He nipped at her jaw lightly with those sharp teeth as she pulled away cheeks flushed turning to look at him, “Sans don’t do that kind of stuff!”

The skeleton had her in his grasp. He could feel her slowly melting against his small ministrations before she forcefully pushed him away which only left him looking at her in confusion. He could see that light rose that dusted her cheeks as she yelled at him. He was confused. He thought she liked his teasing which even though her mouth said otherwise he knew too well how her body betrayed those signs. He slowly shifted his weight to his one foot placing his hand partially inside the pocket of his black pants so the thumb still peaked out. The deep maroon belt he wore made a small jingling sound as he did so, “Thought ya enjoyed it.”

Frisk shook her head emphatically holding back the emotions that were trying to force their way out of her. Her lip was trembling. She had to keep telling herself that the feeling would pass that her friendship was just that, a friendship. He took a step forward towards her only for her to try and mirror him with a step back. Her body wouldn’t move, “I….I can’t.” She nearly choked on the words as his hands came to rest on her arms gently, “Talk ta me.” She couldn’t look at him it was too much. The humans were right, maybe she really was a freak. She was in love with her best friend. She had been for a while and when he did those kinds of things she felt it but to him, it was only a joke. A way to tease her and cause her to squirm. Even after their horrid encounter at his sentry afterwards, he had played the same game just to fluster her. It was cruel in its own way but he would not have known that “Frisk look at me.” When she refused to do as he asked his hand came up to take a hold of her chin and gently turn it to look at him. What he saw was a deep-seated pain hidden within the depths of those gemstone like eyes. The way her lip trembled as he closed the space between them. She was driving him mad but the look on her face told him something else was wrong. She had never complained about his advances before so why now. That’s when she spoke up with her trembling lips and choked words, “It’s just a game to you. It always has been...” He felt his hands slipping from her to rest on her hips rubbing small circles there which made her tense he could feel it, “Ya think how I feels a game?” Frisk shook her head as her hand came up to wipe at her eyes, “You do that with everyone it’s just a joke to you. It’s… not to me.” She had said it. It had taken her months perhaps longer to admit it. She may have been through so much during her time in the Underworld but she was still a fragile human girl with an easily broken heart.

He didn’t stop his small touches as her stiff posture eased. It felt good and it wasn’t invasive in any way just soothing and calming. The tension returned as he spoke, “Ya really think that after all, you’ve done? That yer just some kinda mere human ta me still?” Frisk sighed painfully and closed her eyes, “I don’t know… should I Sans?” All she heard from his was a resounding ‘NO’ which sounded much angrier in tone than usual. She gently opened her eyes to look at him. His eyebrow bones were furrowed, shark-like teeth gritted together. He was pissed off and she had made him that way. She cursed her inability to say the right thing around him at any point in time. His expression softened before he looked off to the side scratching the back of his skull, “I shouldn blame ya. I know how I come off but no it ain't justa game.” He looked back up at her flicking those red eyelights her direction but never actually moving his head.

She couldn’t feel his hands rubbing her anymore but she could still feel their weight on the hem of her top, “What are you trying to say, Sans?” She finally had the courage to place her hand gently on his shoulder. He raised his head to stare at her for a moment, “Sayin ya ain't like anyone else kitten.” She flushed at the comment. Did he...like her? All she could do was watch him carefully, “Sans...I… have.” She sighed softly before she mustered but the courage, “I have feelings for you. I know your teasing but it...it hurts to have you act that way and not feel the same. I’m sorry. You are my best friend and I don’t want to ruin that. We have been through so much together and I treasure you above all else.” She had never seen his eye sockets widen so much before. The expression only lasted for a moment when his mouth curled up in a sharp-toothed smirk, “Good thing I feel tha same way bout you sweetheart.” She could see those half-lidded eye sockets burning with the bright red as he looked at her.

She blinked in flushed surprise only to be met with a deep long and passionate skeletal kiss. Sans had never once attempted to kiss her before. His thing was the more handsy approach which he continued to do as he pulled her against him. She never would have thought in a million years that he would see anything in her that would warrant such a reaction but here he was holding her as if he was afraid if he didn’t she might disappear entirely.

That night as they sat down for dinner the both of them were quiet. It was like a weight was lifted so that she no longer felt as though she needed to hide anything. Her energy had changed a great deal since that morning with a soft smile on her face. Sans seemed just as relaxed as simple accidents during the making of dinner would cause him to tease her as she flushed. They already acted like a couple before they even knew it since Boss had his suspicions. Not that they would admit to it. They had been avoiding each other for months. The silence was broken when Boss spoke up which was not uncommon for him to do but Frisk had been halfway into chewing before, “WOULD YOU TWO JUST GO MAKE OUT ALREADY?” Frisk choked and sputtered as she pushed her plate away to reach for a glass of water. Once she downed the contents she realized Sans eye sockets were empty of all light, “P...Papyrus why would you-” The taller skeleton cut her off before she could finish, “BECAUSE YOU TWO FAWN OVER EACH OTHER INCESSANTLY AND YET NEVER DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. IT IS DISTRACTING.” Frisk looked to the hollow socketed skeleton who looked like he had just been slapped before those red light like eyes returned to blink a few times. Frisk thought it best to speak for him, “We… w...what?” Boss tapped his finger on the island making a slight scraping sound of bone upon granite, “ANYONE WITH EYES CAN TELL. SO ARE YOU FINISHED PLAYING GAMES OR ARE YOU JUST GOING TO CONTINUE THIS POOR JOB AT HIDING YOUR FEELINGS?” She was not entirely sure if that was directed to her or Sans but the look on his face said it all. She spoke once more, “Papyrus… that’s not up to-” She was cut off once again but this time by Sans, “Heh. That obvious? Answers yes Pap.” Papyrus looked relatively pleased by this as Frisk just looked at him in shock. If Boss knew about this then everyone else did too. How embarrassing.

That night she had admitted to her feelings right there and that would lead her to the present day in which they had been dating for nearly half a year. Even in this short time period, she began to feel self-doubt. She trusted him, spent time with him, and most of all loved him. He treated her like a treasure in and outside of the house practically showing off his doll. He called her sweet pet names and took her places where they could just enjoy each others company. She noticed he also had grown into the overprotective role over the first few weeks. He nearly sucker punched Asriel into a wall when her sibling expressed his dislike that she had chosen Sans. Who did not help with his taunting. She ended up separating the two as they glared at each other from across the room.

Her parents had given her the talk which Asgore could not believe he was having with her. He was not a fan of Sans either which confused her considering he trusted him implicitly before. It must have been a dad thing. Either way the more she thought about it the more her heart sank. She found herself at home bundled up in a blanket on the couch staring at the pages of a book that she was not even reading. These last few months were the happiest of her life and yet there was more doubt creeping into her mind. She could feel a sadness trying to take a hold of her as she lifelessly starred at the collection of letters.

Sans had sensed the change in her for a week or so now. She smiled at him but not the way she used to. She acted like she was present but was not at the same time. It was starting to concern him. He walked out from the kitchen with two mugs in his hands. He had made hot chocolate for them both since they were being snowed in, puns aside. He set the first on the table and the second he held out to her, “Here ya go sweetheart. Watcha readin?” Her eyes finally lifted themselves from the useless collection of bound paper in her hands to look at him. She closed the book and set it down on the coffee table only to gingerly take the cup from his hands, “I was not really focused, to be honest.” She pressed the warm mug to her lips and took a sip as he came to sit on the floor next to her to grab his own mug. They had made a habit of this when they were not going out. It was nice to just relax and curl up. He had even taken up his bright cobalt round-rimmed glasses again when he read. At first, he had been using tape to keep them on his face but now he used his own magic instead causing the blue framework to glow purple in a few spots since his magic mixed with the frame color.

Frisk was still staring into some unknown headspace as she sipped her chocolatey drink, “Sans we need to talk.” She had become a little bolder since they had been together. He must have been rubbing off on her. She heard the cup clatter on the table as he turned to look at her and take off his glasses, “Whats goin on sweetheart?” She turned her head to look at him before she stared into her mug hands shaking, “Sans I think…” He rested his hand over the top hers squeezing firmly, “Don't ya say what I think yer goin ta say.” Her eyes slowly traveled from their hands to his face. He did not usually show emotion well but every since that day six months ago he had been more open. The look on his face was one that was enough to break her heart. She wanted to be with him more than anything but the more she thought about it the more her heart sank, “Sans...I… don't know what to do.” His expression never faltered as he moved to place his hand gently on her head, “What do ya mean sweetheart? Did someone hurt ya cause they are goin to fuckin pay if that's what happened!” She shook her head gently eyes filling with tears. She could barely see as her eyes glazed over with water, “I don't want to hurt you.”

She was trying to hold it together and as soon as she blinked the tears slipped down her cheeks. It was unnatural to have a monster and human be a couple. One of the main reasons was that their concept of a significant other was much deeper than just a marriage vow. It was a soul bond. Her lifespan and his lifespan were so different meaning he would continue on with his life with only half a soul. The pain would be unbearable if he had to live that way. She was also afraid that he would become bored of her in all that time as she aged. She was pretty and cute now but what about 10...20….30 years from now? Wasn’t it better to spare him that suffering?

Sans was confused as he watched the tears roll down her cheeks. She was in so much pain and he had not noticed. What kind of boyfriend was he if she couldn’t confide in him? He raised his hand to wipe those tears away. When had he grown so soft? Granted he was still the same skeleton that he was before with everyone else but when he was alone with her. It was different, “Hey whatcha talkin about sweetheart? Don't cry.” He wanted her to just tell him what was wrong because he could see and feel that her soul was quaking within that ribcage of hers, “Talk ta me.”

Frisk sniffled lightly as he placed his hand on her cheek, “I can’t have you suffer because...because of what I am. It’s better if I spare you that. I am just a human Sans I am not special I a-” She saw his neutral face downturn in a frown, “What the fuck are ya sayin Frisk? I don’t think that bout ya at all.” She interject herself now in a single moment in which she lost self control, “Sans I am going to die and...and leave you all alone! You are a monster my life is so short compared to yours! What happens when I grow older will you still look at me the same way or… or….” She felt her throat tightening as she forced the words from her mouth, “Are you going to find someone else…” The tears were now an open floodgate as she stifled her crying with words. He had been and was a notorious flirt. He had been with so many monsters that she was afraid he would one day just be bored of her, “I can’t bare it. I can’t put you through that. I love you more than anything. It’s better if...if…”

Ouch. He knew his reputation but this was different. That was during a time that he had nothing to hold on to, someone to hold on to. That explained why she had been so distant lately. He had to explain himself before she up and left in a sobbing mess. He knew her better than anyone. He always had in a way and he knew that if he remained silent that would cause her to think that her fears were possible, “Frisk ya don't think I don't know about this? I still wanna be with ya. It's one of tha reasons it took me so damn long. I love you, that will never change and don't think that just cause you'll change that it'll be different. It's different fer monsters. Its my soul. Yer ma soulmate Frisk so please don't say stuff like that. I ain't goin ta let ya just walk away.” He stood up and came to sit on the couch and pull her into his lap and just rub her back as she buried her face into the warm black turtleneck that he wore, “I’ve made a lota mistakes sweetheart and you ain't one em.”

Frisk just stayed there in his lap as she sniffled and let out all the held emotion she had for over a few weeks now. She just wanted to curl up and stay there for the rest of her life but she lifted her head cheeks a light pink, “I couldn’t bare it if I was with anyone else. It would put a hole in my soul.” She felt fingers running through her hair playing with it gently. Those concerns were nothing to him and they shouldn't be to her either. He felt her relax in his arms before she replied softly, “I’m sorry.” She would, of course, apologize for thinking such horrible things and having these doubts and yet he never scolded her for it. She was content to stay here before he spoke, “Don't be sorry kitten but know that those fears ain't ever gonna happen alright?” She smiled gently with a look in her eyes that were filled with all the love in the world. He chose her and he knew. He loved her and she, him. They had been through so much and even if hard times came back to the two it would not change a thing. She kissed his cheek gently before whispering softly, “I know.”

After a while, the two returned to their usual activity without another word on the subject. Frisk was curled up next to him using his shoulder as a back support as she finally read her book peacefully. He kept her close with an arm around her waist underneath the hilariously stereotypical black and white skull and bone fleece blanket. It was a quiet afternoon where the two sipped their hot chocolate and just enjoyed each other's company with small smiles playing on their faces. It was not as if those doubts would ever just vanish but there was one thing that was for certain. That no matter the circumstance they would always be there for each other.

~**END**~

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nhlhoser · 7 years

Text

On The Rocks - 26

Part 25 Masterlist

3816 WC

Swearing and emotions

Getting out of bed was easier yet still hard with my lack of energy and still sore body.

Deciding to yield Noahs instructions to get out of the room and try to get breakfast, I head to the bathroom to shower first and wash some of this sick off my skin and get a fresh start but also tame my horribly gross hair.

Gingerly I heave myself off the bed on shaky legs and sore muscles.

My legs don't give out on me but it's a damn near thing when my bare feet are shocked by the change from carpet to cold tile. My movements are stiff as I maneuver around the bathroom, arranging the towels to be easy to grab when I come out and one on the floor so I don't create a puddle.

Stepping into the shower the hot water is almost too hot but feels amazing on my skin and my tight muscles. Stretching my arms above my head a series of pops rattle down my spine and through my shoulders, releasing tension as the hot water works on melting the rest.

Working on my hair is rough with my lack of mobility but I eventually am able to free the knots from my gross hair with the products I recognize from the shower I had at Austons over the weekend. He must have snuck them in here before he accidentally woke me up.

Standing under the water for a couple moments longer, I don't want to get out yet because as much as I want to believe that I am relaxed right now, I know I am not as the weight of the water hitting my shoulders, chest, and face is heavier than it is in reality.

My ever-present anxiety is growing larger than it's been in a long time as I usually have a better handle on it but the energy I am executing just by being sick- makes it impossible to ignore the nagging pain in my chest that could only be explained by my anxiety and illness.

My energy level makes me just want to lay in bed for the rest of the forsee-able future and avoid life all together but I can' exactly do that right now being that : I am not even in my own country, I'm ill and have to leave my room for it to be cleaned but also I have to get on another plane in the next day or two too go home and maybe then I will be able to wallow in my own self-pity and get my emotion in order.

I have to get myself under control before I lose it again but HOW? I could call my brother or maybe my dad but that would stir even more stress and drama as my dad would hope on the next flight and throttle the entire Leafs management staff and probably anyone that may try and stop him.

Even then I don't usually involve anyone in my own problems I kinda just deal with them or accept that they are there but right now it's too prominent to ignore. Maybe, I should involve someone that is already aware of some of what is going on?

Noah? He'll probably think of the medical aspect rather than the emotional side and may not understand.

Any of the guys are just out of question because of playoffs and thats just a lot on their plate already plus they barely know me.

You've started to let Auston in already.......

A small voice whispers temptingly more aware than I am.

But he has hockey to worry about I reason with my own inner thought.

yes, but he there's already something he wants to say, we don't have to really say much. What he wants to talk about could ease us enough to get us back to Toronto. If not we have Ricky who we could rant to because he cares you know. We need to let someone in before we break.

Whatever part of my brain this is, it is really sad.

I'm your heart, you need to listen to me more.

Maybe.

Shutting off the water I stand in the tub a moment longer staring at my hands still holding onto the tap. Purple and yellow bruising from boxing the day before last and the scars from the years gone by resembling how my heart might look if ripped from my chest- something I'm scared someone might just actually do if I let them in.

Stepping out it's much easier to move and faster thankfully because the air is cold against my damp skin as I wrap a towel around my middle and twist my hair into another. Catching myself in the mirror I definitely look as sick as I feel, my complexion pale but my cheeks flushed slightly pink from the fever and my eyes slightly sunken with dark bags beneath them.

Sliding into a pair of my new leggings and Austons shirt, I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling again, my energy almost spent just from the shower. My mind still overworked by the panic attack earlier with Noah, the urge to scream wrapped around my neck like a cord again but this time producing fat tears and a gasp for breath that pulled on my sore diaphragm as more tears leak from eyes and down to my ears. (A/N: if you've ever cried well laying on your back this is a chilling experience)

The memory is nothing new but it hasn't been brought up in a long time and it still scares me just as much the first time when I thought it was just some nightmare my brain had conjured up due to trauma but when I told my dad about it he sorrowfully correct that even though I don't even to this day understand it completely it was something that did happen.

The memory is the last of my mother but also it was the last of a couple month period after my 16th birthday due to an injury that I have no memory or details of. With the help of the little family I had around me and a patient-therapist I was about to mend a life for myself

A swift knock on the door startles me from my trance and back into reality, still staring at the ceiling now dry-eyed.

"Who is it?" My voice sounded hoarse with the edge of being broken on the inside.

"Auston," came barely audible through the door. "Can I come in?" followed only this time a little bit louder..

"Do you still have a key?" I move to be sitting on the edge of the bed, my face in my faces as I work on wiping away the tears with my palms.

"Uhm..Yeah?" He sounded almost sheepish

"Come in," My voice still hoarse and ragged. My heart rate spikes as the sound of Auston unlocking the door registered in my brain that someone is going to see me like this.

In a last stitch effort for whatever composure I can must I run my hands through my damp hair, dragging the strands from my face with a deep breath as the door opens revealing Auston- a loaded shopping bag in hand.

"Gatorade and- you're up?" Auston's step stuttered a little bit as his eyes landed on my freshly showered hair instead of the mess he last saw.

"Up is a bit of an over-exaggeration," I mumbled laying back down in a huff, watching Auston continue into the room a small frown on his lips.

"How are you? Now?" Setting the bag on the floor Auston sits and lays on the bed parallel to me and turns his head to face me.

"Honestly?" My voice cracks under the emotion I've pent up as I turn my face to look him the eye, they're soft and full of concern.

"Fucking shit," a sarcastic laugh follows my brief confession with a small tear falling down my cheek before I could wipe it away Auston's rough thumb swipes it away for me and continues to my right cheek with his left hand tenderly.

The sheer tenderness of the moment and the level of vulnerability oozing from both of us causes a rough sob to wrack through my chest, my eyes squeezing closed in an attempt to hold back the floodgates a little bit longer.

This prompts something in Auston to move from just holding my face to wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest, holding me with a strong yet soft force. His hand starts to work through my hair slowly in a calming manner trying to soothe me, as a painful hiccup jars my extremely sore diaphragm.

Whimpering at the pain Auston pulls me in tighter and continues to run his hands through my hair and over the pulse on my neck to cradle my head his large hand as he pulls back to examine my face. Opening my eyes I am met with his searching eyes as they scan over my face, his eyebrows draw in creating a crease to form on his forehead.

"From being sick?" Auston's tone suggested that he knew that it might be more than just the flu I've been dealing with causing my meltdown.

"No," I sniffled.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not yet,"

"Okay. I'll wait," Auston pulled me in so my ear rested on his chest again.

The sound of his heartbeat lulling me back in peace and almost sleep if the fact I need to get out of the room for a bit popped back in my head and that Auston started to speak.

"I'm sorry for withdrawing before leaving.It's just the playoff's made me feel a new level of nervous that scared the absolute shit out of me. I needed to get my mind in order and that caused some casualties on the way," His voice vibrated through his chest as he laughs nervously. "You know who shined the light in my eyes?" he added.

"Mitch?"

"Well, he definitely was part of it but I was talking to mom after you left that night and I might have been ignoring her also and she was not having it and she tore me a couple news one but when she calmed down she asked me about you,"

"Me?" I pull up surprised that Ema Matthews even knew i existed. "why?"

"You made that dinner that I could heat up and have them over instead of going out - which totally shocked them- but anyways she knew it wasn't me that made the food and it couldn't have been ordered because it was made in the dishes she bought for me-"

"She also knows you can't cook for shit," I added interrupting him.

"Rude but I told her about how you had agreed to make me hot dinners and when she called to rip me a new and was civil again she asked what I had to eat and when I told her I just had dinner you made for me- she told me to thank you for her and I realized I didn't even thank you," The volume of Auston's voice drops through the story as he starts to sound awkward and sheepish.

"Then Mitch text me saying 'Fix it' with zero contexts but followed up with the information you just got home and were withdrawn," Auston kind of nervous laughing now,

"So, this is me fixing it. I really didn't mean to be a dick,"

"It's okay Auston but let's go down a get breakfast and hope Noah doesn't catch you in here and scold you because you might catch this," I reminded the boy with a fake sternness in my voice.

"You never told me to leave," Auston whispered in my hair sounding sleepy.

"I know," I signed relaxing into his arms even further as the sound of his heartbeat and soft breathing started to coax my eyes into closing. Breathing in the scent of detergent, cologne and generally, the smell didn't help either.

"Auston," I whispered earning a soft groan to rumble in his chest. "Let's goooo" I whined as I dragged my body off of his regretfully and standing in front of his legs still dangling off the bed. I press my knees to his and push with some force.

"Aus, Come one," I grab his wrists I tug and he finally opens his eyes and sits up staring up at me with a look in his eyes I can't place but it feels meaningful. Slowly he circles his arms around me again and presses the palm of his hands into my back pulling me into an embrace so his face is nestled against my collarbone and neck sort of.

My breath hitches slightly as a knot tyes in the back of my throat at the sudden rush of emotions from being held so tenderly. A small gasp escapes me as Auston's arms tighten as if he can sense the sudden rush of my emotions.

He probably heard the spike in my heart rate from where his ear is resting.

Returning the embrace my arms rest on his shoulders and my hands going into his hair as I held his head against me, resting my forehead on the top of his hair like he had done earlier.

Pulling his head back slightly my hands drifted to rest on the nape of his neck and slightly under his jaw as his eyes hold mine in what feels like a loaded moment to only have it interrupted by a knock on the door of my room.

"Who is it?" I instinctively put my hand over Auston's mouth even though he hasn't made a sound.

"It's Noah," My eyes widen slightly then glared into Austons "I didn't see downstairs and wanted to make sure you were alright,"

"I'm fine. I just got of the shower, I just need to get dressed and I'll be down," Implying that I'm naked got a rise out of Auston as his shoulders shook slightly and he raised a questioning brow at me.

"Oh-Okay see you down there then," Noah soundly sheepish as his footsteps could be heard walking away from the door and down the hall.

Pulling my hand away from Auston's grinning mouth he shakes his head at me with the same brow raised.

"You have to go down first because we can't show up at the same time," I said as I stepped back giving the still grinning Auston Room to stand to his full height.

"What?" I questioned when he just kept giving me that look as I grabbed my sweater and pulled it over Auston's long sleeve to stop the chill on my skin.

"He totally just thought of you naked," I pulled the rest of the hoodie over my head quickly as I stared at Auston wide-eyed.

"He did not," stuffing my keycard and phone in my pockets I grab a Gatorade and wait for Auston at the door. "Come on breakfast," I signaled Auston through the door.

"I'm a guy I know for a fact that he did," He commented passing into the hall before me with a smug smirk. "Because I know I would of," He stated just as smug.

"Go eat," I waved him off as my feverish face turns even redder. Auston walks away laughing, I close the door again and rest my heated face against the cool surface to get composure back.

"He's the worst," I groan into the door with mild bitch fit before I school my breathing and feature to calm and collect before re-opening the door and leaving the room stuffing the Gatorade in my hoodie pocket.

Walking into the slightly crowded restaurant despite the fact food service just started, the scent of food assaults my senses and instantly causes a split reaction in my stomach; Hunger and nausea. A shiver runs down my spine as I fight the urge to gag and end up coughing instead.

Shaking it off, I walk towards the food with a grimace as the smell gets stronger making me breathe through my mouth rather than my nose to stop the smell from connecting to my sore stomach. I view the different foods in awe and sadness as they all look so delicious but I can't stomach much or any of it yet.

Drifting passed all the warm yummy foods, I end up grabbing a banana, plain toast, and a mint tea.

The other food just too harsh for my recovering stomach and throat.

"Amelia," the ginger goalie appeared to my left quietly. "How are you? Auston practically describes that you were dead," Freddie gently threw an arm around my shoulders and rubbed my arm soothingly with a teasing smile on his face. Cleary seeing that I am not dead

"I feel like it thats for sure," The rasp in my voice visibly hits Freddie's ears as he winced and chirped that I sounded like it too, his arms still around me as he guilds me to the same table as yesterday where Auston is residing with plate a of half eaten food and a mug of what I'd guess to be coffee.

Settling in the same seat as yesterday, I arrange to face the boys with my back against the wall taking my Gatorade out of pocket and cracking the deal and taking a test sip of the sweet drink. My stomach doesn't react prompting another but still small sip, the cool fluid providing relief for my sore throat.

Setting the bottle on the table with a sigh both of the hockey players are staring with pitiful eyes and a grimace, Sticking my tongue out at them they look away with small smirks and continue to eat.

The banana goes down without resistance as does a little bit of tea but my stomach starts to have a fit when I go to pick up the toast. The smells stopped bothering my stomach so didn't try and push what little comfort I achieve as I sip my tea absorbed in whatever conversation is happening around me.

Couple more bodies had joined us with plates overflowing with nutrient foods and some chirps about me not being in as bad of a state as Auston had described to which Auston would defend if they'd been there and I saying that I sure as hell still felt like death.

My body was still remarkably sore especially my diaphragm that is putting a damper on my breathing because it hurts. My body shifts between hot and cold about six times in a minute that doesn't go unnoticed when my cheeks get really red then I start shivering.

Matt was watching me from the end of the table with worried eyes but I waved him off which brought the curious eyes of Mitch and Wiliam as my cheeks started to flare again then to cuddle into my layers.

The conversation was steady and light currently on the subject of Auston's ripped jeans and shoe collection being bigger than some of their girlfriends but Auston just rolls his eyes at them.

Resting the back of my head against the wall, my eyes start to droop with the need to sleep again and the comfortable feel of safety the guys surrounding me provide with their slightly intimidating size even Mitch.

"Noah hooked her up to banana bag and saline last night," Austons voice was soft as he whispered to the table. "She was puking all night," There was a deep layer of concern in his voice.

"Poor girl, Shouldn't she be in bed?" Matt's mature side coming out as he joined the whispering and some sounds of approval with i'd guess nodding along.

"Noah advised for her to get out of the room so the cleaning service could come through and for her to try to get some food or fluid," Auston's sparknote version of what I told him earlier. The conversation lulled as only typing on phone could be heard.

"It says here, Banana, Rice, Applesauce, and Toast are the most recommend things for someone with the flu to eat," Mitch recited smartly.

"I think she already knew that," William whispered.

"I did," I added not opening my eyes and getting comfortable in my little corner and preparing to actually sleep this time. "At least wait for me to actually fall asleep before you start talking about me, " A tired smile pulled lamely at the edges of my lips as I pull the hood up over my head and ended over my eyes.

I do actually end up falling asleep this time with my head resting against the wall, legs stretched out in front of me knocking someone's ankles, and the neck of the sweater pulled over my nose.

That lasted until Freddie tapped me on my shoulder saying they had to go get their act together for the morning skate. I sleepily nodded and followed behind the group of athletes with my Gatorade into the elevator.

If i could i would have tossed my body into the freshly made bed but I carefully crawled under the covers and cuddled up into dreamland for some more precious sleep.

Noah comes back around to check on me around 1 pm checking temperature, breath sounds, lymphoid and throat. My temperature was high but coming down and he only made a small face well inspecting my throat with his pen light.

"Well you're not worse which is good at least you're stable," He started packing up for the 3rd time today and was out with the same 'call me' stick.

I shed a layer of clothing by removing the hoodie and socks, a sign i was really tired because I never can sleep with socks. I grab a water and gatorade from the fridge and crawl back into bed with the tv remote trying to find something to make the room less dead.

Settling on a what looks like comedy by the appearance of Adam Sandler yelling at a kid - a good sign.

I fall back asleep quickly.

A weight on the side of my bed alerts me to the presence of someone. Instinctively I roll over giving said weight room to lay down instead of being sprawled in the middle.

"What time is it?" I mumbled being roused awake.

"1:30 pm," Came the deep voice I expect.

"Isn't it time for your pre-game name?" I rolled over to face him.

"What do you think I'm doing," with that the covers lift and he settles in.

"Hmm," I barely hum snuggling into the pillows and blankets.

Strong arms circle around my waist and Auston snuggle me with a sigh.

#auston matthews imagine #auston matthews #on the rocks

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height-is-might · 6 years

Text

Scraps

So I have 200+ pages of a not-too-thoroughly thought out fic that’s actually just thinly veiled torture p0rn sitting around. I want to share some of the not too awful bits that I kinda like. I’ve been writing this shit off and on for almost 4 years. Why am I like this.

Warning for physical abuse, emotional abuse, general grossness, I guess gore. Definitely creative punctuation & formatting…

Red lies still and lets his head empty, a dissociative meditation he has nearly mastered in captivity. The heavy collar around his neck affords him no sleep, a few hours of blessed oblivion would be too kind of his captors, but if his breathing and heart rate remain above threshold he won’t be electrocuted- a luxury Red is grateful for.

They’ve had to lessen the severity of his torture considerably, failing to take his fragility into account could easily kill him. Another fate to be ruled out, again that would be far too kind of his captors. Torturers. If Red were to die, who would be their example?

If he had the energy he would have ripped the camera out of the wall mounted behind him.

But they’ve done very well with keeping him too weak to walk, or object, let alone resist. He can’t even will himself to sit up right now- still curled up on the dirty floor of his cell where he was left hours before. Where another three had their fun. He doesn’t shudder, but cold crawls up his spine at the recollection. Rather than dwell on this Red returns to draining his mind of thought, pulling the plug and letting it all swirl down down and finally away to emptiness.

He’s shaken out of his trance again by the sound of footsteps in the corridor leading to his cell. Fear crawls back into him, he forgets that he is being recorded and lets out a long and fearful whimper, curls further into himself. But the footsteps grow quieter, not fainter as if moving away, but the echo dies off and the only the true sound of very light footfalls remain. Still, Red expects the worst, holds himself perfectly stiff and still when the lock mechanism clicks and the door creaks open. But it’s a short sound- the enterer slips in and closes the heavy door behind them in not even a second. Red can’t remember anyone who has hurt him that was so small. He starts to take a quick mental inventory when a hand on his cheek shatters both his thoughts and composure. It’s hardly the kick or whip he was expecting, but he still jerks away the same, an undignified yelp escapes him to echo off the walls. He can feel a small body beside him recoil in surprise.

“Oh! Oh, sorry Red. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Red uncurls a bit, some tension leaves him and he looks up- or rather, turns to face the direction Bob’s voice comes from. He flinches again when Bob gently feels the sutures running along the seams of his eyelids, dull pain pulsing where pressure is applied.

“They’re looking a little bit better…” he trails off, produces a cloth from somewhere on his person to gently wipe the area clean. Red stifles down more pained noises, holds himself stiff as not to move away.

Quietly, he manages, “It still hurts.” Bobs hands fall away in realization. Red can hear Bob sigh, quietly, pitying. Silence settles between them, but Red hears some rummaging about.

“Here, I’ve been holding onto this for you.” Bobs small hand gently grips his wrist, guiding him to touch something soft. A small blanket? A towel? Red takes hold of the material, rubs it against his palms, runs it between his hands, it seems familiar. Realization hits him suddenly.

“Our robes?” His brow furrows, an odd gesture with his eyes sewn shut. He’s still facing the material in his palms, as if staring at it. “Is- is this Pur’s?’ His voice cracks with emotion; he stammers half thought thanks, thoroughly distracted, overwhelmed by the small gift. Eventually his mind becomes so occupied his jaw just clicks shut, and he very abruptly buries his face in the frayed fabric. Red huffs out a gasp of a breath from behind the cloth, he’s clutched it tight, knuckles paling around fistfuls.

“It’s alright Red,” but the solidarity goes unnoticed, and muffled sobs start to filter through and fill the room. Bob looks on silently, unsure of what to do, unsure what he was even expecting, he questions giving this to Red after all. He elects to close the distance between them, lay a hand on Red’s arm to comfort. As if on cue, Red degenerates into full on wailing. Defeated, heartbroken, he clutches Purple’s robe to his chest, curls around it and openly sobs over the loss of his brother.

“Gentian, come back, come back, please. I need you!” Over and over he wails, tears leak around the sutures in his eyes and fall patternless down his cheeks. The constant beatings, all the abuse and starvation he could weather. But the faint smell of Purple and this scrap of what their lives used to be are enough to make the dam burst.

It’s too much.

Lying there naked and sobbing- eyes sewn shut, a myriad of other wounds left open, the grit of the cell floor embedding into his skin and dirtying him further- Red is undone.

Bob sits with Red until he exhausts himself, gently rubbing uninjured parts of Reds arms to offer what little comfort he can. Eventually Red comes back to himself, capable of thinking beyond his sorrow. His tears slowly dry, his breathing evens out, the flood waters swirl and blur circling the drain until emptiness fills his head again. The scrap of his lost brother’s robe remains clutched tight under his chin.

The ending is a little too terse but I couldn’t seem to make it prettier. Ugh!

Criticism and grammatical corrections welcome!

also posted to Ao3

Part 2 (kinda) can be found here

#fic #Invader Zim #Almighty Tallest Red #Almighty Tallest Purple #Table Headed Service Drone Bob #just awful #mine

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