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nblesbianbenhanscom · 3 years

Note

43+45 for kaspbroughzier or streddie

anon! hello! a million years later, and your fic is ready! are you even still here? i hope so ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

i had to go with the kasproughzier cause i love those goofs and also sonia is the perfect no, really you don’t want to meet my family.

the prompts were ‘trust me, you don’t want to meet my family’ + ‘you may technically be an adult, but you are still my child.’

***

read it on ao3

Little Dashes of Doom

“Eh-Eddie, your phone is r-ringing,” Bill says. It’s the tenth time in the last half hour.

“Just turn it off, Bill. I’m not going to answer it.” Eddie doesn’t look up from his computer.

“Buh-But it’s your ma.”

“I know, Bill. I already told her when I was coming home. She can chill.” He sounds tired, and Bill just wants to wrap him up in a blanket and make him relax between him and Richie. This semester had really kicked all of their asses.

Bill watches the phone as it stops ringing. It dings a moment later with a voicemail. Bill picks it up and turns it off. He kisses Eddie’s hair as he sits it on the table next to him.

“H-How’s the puh-aper coming?” Bill asks as he opens up the fridge. Bill himself had just finished his own last final just a few hours before.

“I hate fucking Shakespeare,” Eddie growls.

“Th-That good, eh?”

Eddie doesn't respond while Bill looks through the fridge. He finds a beer and heads to the couch where Richie is playing on their shared Switch. His legs are spread awkwardly, one up and over the back of the couch, the other hanging down by the floor. Bill sits in between his legs, pulling Richie’s leg into his lap.

“Hey, babycakes, you ok?” Richie asks without looking up.

“I’m ok.” Bill takes a sip of his beer. “You ok?”

“Yeah, fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Shit! I just fucking died!” He sighs and lets the Switch fall to his chest. “What are we doing for food?”

“We have l-leftover p-pizza,” Bill says.

Groaning, Richie sits up and tugs himself closer to Bill with his legs. He leans close and kisses Bill’s neck.

“I am so tired of pizza.” Richie scrapes his teeth against Bill’s chin. “Maybe I’ll just have you for dinner. How does that sound?” They giggle and Eddie huffs from the kitchen.

“Ugh, rude of you to start without me,” Eddie grouses, but there’s no real heat to his words.

Bill and Richie giggle again.

“S-Sorry, E-Eddie!”

“We were just discussing dinner.” Richie kisses Bill’s neck again.

Giggling, Bill pushes him away. “Shhh… St-Stop.”

Richie just pulls him closer and they giggle again.

“If I fail my final, it will be all your faults!” Eddie yells.

“Wh-What d-do you want for d-dinner?” Bill asks.

Eddie is silent for a minute. “Surprise me.”

Bill turns and kisses Richie. “We’re guh–nna go p-pick up dinner.”

“We are?” Richie asks. Bill nods. He holds his hand out and Richie takes it. They go to the door, tug on their coats and boots. It’s cold outside, but Bill just holds tightly to Richie’s hand.

“Where to, Big B?” Richie asks after they’ve climbed in the car.

Bill shrugs. “I don’t care.” He thinks for a minute. “Wh-Where do you—”

“I already told you what I wanted.” Richie winks.

Leaning back against the passenger seat headrest, Bill smiles at him. “Ok, b-but like a-actual food, Richie.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Richie says. They talk for a few more minutes and end up going to the local diner. They get pancakes, fries, salad, and pie. Sometimes Eddie has trouble eating when he’s stressed, and they want to make sure to get him something he’ll eat.

When they get back, Eddie’s computer and his books are in a neat stack. The bathroom door is closed and they can hear him screaming at someone.

“I am working on my finals, mommy!” Eddie screams. Richie and Bill hesitate in the doorway. They look at each other but creep in. It’s been a while since Eddie had gone off like this. When they’d first met him a few years back, he’d yelled a lot more. Richie liked to tease that he was a feral chihuahua until Eddie’d absolutely lost it and tried to beat Richie up. It hadn’t gone well; Richie was so much taller than him and he had just pulled him into a hug, apologies sliding off his tongue. He promised to never do it again. After that, there were less and less explosions until there were none.

“No! No! You listen! I’m doing my work. I’ll be home in three days. Three! You have my–” Eddie pauses. “Please, would you just–”

Richie puts the food on the table and Bill clears away Eddie��s school work.

“God damnit, mom! They are not my roommates, they are my boyfriends. We have been over and over–” Another pause. “Well maybe I won’t come home then!” There’s another pause followed by a loud banging sound and then Eddie begins to sob.

Bill and Richie look at each other as they sit there listening to Eddie cry and yell at himself. Bill can’t quite make out everything he’s saying, but he knows it’s not good. He hears things like pussy, and coward, and little bitch. Things that he’d been told his whole life. Things Bill had thought he’d worked through.

Bill had apparently been wrong.

“I’m gonna go get him,” Richie says, and gets up. Bill catches his hand, and shakes his head. They sigh.

“Wuh–ne m-more m-minute.” He swallows hard. Richie sits back down slowly. Bill hates this just as much as Richie, but he doesn’t want to push Eddie too hard.

Slowly, Eddie’s sobs lessen. Bill wants to get up and go to him, but still he hesitates. Richie leans into his space and rests his head on Bill’s shoulder.

“Can we go get him now?” Richie asks.

Bill licks his lips. He’s about to say yes when they hear the bathroom door open, and Eddie sees them as soon as he looks up.

“Oh,” he says softly. His eyes are red and puffy. He swallows hard several times. “I-I–” And then tears fill his eyes, and his face crumbles, and Richie and Bill go to him, pull him close and let him cling to them as he cries.

“It’s ok, Eddie, we’ve got you,” Richie murmurs into his hair. “We’ve got you.”

“L-Let it out, b-baby,” Bill whispers.

Eddie’s fingers dig into Bill’s shirt as he sobs. His whole body is shaking and Bill wishes he could find Sonia Kaspbrak and give her a piece of his mind, but he tries to push these thoughts away as he kisses Eddie’s hair.

They sit on the couch, and it takes a long time for Eddie to calm down. Even after he’s stopped crying, he still clings to them. He whines when Richie pulls away.

“I’ll be back, my love, just going to get you some water,” Richie says as Eddie grips his shirt hem.

“But I–” Eddie’s hoarse, and Bill can’t help but feel sorry for him.

“I-It w-will help,” Bill says. He reaches out and pulls Eddie’s hand free. “It will help.” Slowly, Eddie lets go and lets Bill lace their fingers together. He leans back into Bill and closes his eyes.

After Eddie drinks his water, he looks around at them with heavy sad eyes. He’s cradled between them, both of them pushing into his space.

“I’m–I’m sorry,” Eddie says.

“What for, love?” Richie asks. He strokes Eddie’s hair, kisses his temple.

“Because I–Because I’m such a freaking mess,” Eddie whispers.

“Yo-You’re n-not a m-mess.” Bill kisses Eddie behind his ear and Eddie’s eyelashes flutter a little.

“Your mom is a fucking cunt,” Richie says.

Bill frowns at him. Eddie usually freaks whenever someone says something bad about his mom.

“Yeah, she is,” Eddie says.

Bill and Richie make shocked noises. Bill squeezes him.

“I’m just so tired of her. She’s...” His voice waivers and takes a deep breath. “I have to use the bathroom.” Eddie gives them each a kiss before he gets up.

Once the door is closed, Richie looks at Bill, scowling.

“What the fuck is that bitch’s problem?” Richie growls.

“I d-don’t kn-know.” Bill sighs. He scoots closer to Richie. “I h-hate her so much. It’s been s-such a l-long t-time si-since–”

“Yeah, he’s been doing so good.” Richie huffs. “I just wish I could meet that bitch just one time so I could–”

“Trust me, you don’t want to meet my mom,” Eddie says. Richie and Bill jump, neither of them had heard the toilet flush. “C’mon. I’m hungry.”

Sharing glances, Richie and Bill get up and follow Eddie into the kitchen. He’s sitting at the table, pulling the food out of the bag and frowns at the fries.

“Aww, fuck, they’re cold.” Eddie’s lip trembles a little. “I’m sorry. I should have waited to call. I just finished my final and I–”

“N-No, b-baby. It’s ok. Th-The fries w–ill heat up,” Bill says.

“Yeah,” Richie agrees. “That’s why God invented microwaves, right?” He picks up the container and throws it in, pushing buttons quickly. “See? It’s fine.”

Sniffling, Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Nuked fries taste so gross.”

“I think we got some cheese and Ranch. That will help.” Richie goes to the fridge as Eddie looks at the rest of the food and looks up at Bill.

“You two are the best, do you know that?” Eddie asks. Richie kisses his hair as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders.

“N-No you,” Bill says.

Wrapping his fingers around Richie’s forearms, Eddie kisses his inner arm. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you, too.” Richie pulls away as the microwave beeps.

After they eat, they curl up on the couch to watch TV. They’re all crossed limbs and elbows in stomachs and pulled hair, but they don’t really care. Eddie just lets the others hold him close, pet his hair, kiss him.

“Are you doing better?” Richie asks after a bit. Eddie shrugs.

“Wh-What happened?” Bill asks.

Eddie shrugs again. “Just the usual. I finished my paper like right after you left, so I decided to call her before she called the police like she did that one time, and she said since I was done with my finals that I needed to come home right away. When I said I want to stay with you two, that my ticket is nonrefundable or exchangeable, she said she didn’t care about the cost, that she’d pay and…” He sighs. “She just wouldn’t listen. She kept saying, ‘You may be an adult, but you’re still my child.’” He huffs. “I’ve been financially independent from that old bag for over a year. She has no right to say shit like that to me any more.”

“N-No, she doesn’t,” Bill agrees.

“Honestly, she never should have talked to you that way, ever,” Richie says. Eddie leans a little closer to him. He plays with the strings on Bill’s hoodie.

“I know,” Eddie whispers.

Bill can hardly believe what he’s hearing. His heart fills with pride and he pulls Eddie’s legs into his lap and cups Eddie’s face in his hands before kissing him so, so gently. When they pull apart, Bill pushes his forehead into Eddie’s forehead.

“L-Love you,” Bill whispers. When he pulls back, Richie presses his own kiss into Eddie’s temple.

“You know, you don’t have to go,” Richie says. “You can come home with us.”

“O-Or we c-could go wi-with you,” Bill says.

Eddie shakes his head. “It will be ok.”

Sighing, Richie shakes his head, no. “You shouldn’t have to deal with her alone. Let us come with you.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Eddie murmurs.

“Y-You d–idn’t. We’re t-telling you. We’re coming wi–th you,” Bill says. Richie smiles at Bill.

“You really don’t–”

“Eds, you may as well give it up. We’re coming with you, and if your mom can’t deal, well, fuck her, and we’ll leave early.” Richie pauses. “In fact, plan on it. We’ll all have to change our tickets, call our families, but we’ll split up the break evenly. It will be fun.”

“We can’t afford that!” Eddie protests.

“Y-Yes we c-can! I just got p-paid for th–at piece I wrote a why-while back,” Bill says.

“No, Bill, you were going to use that for a new computer!” Eddie says.

“I’ll j-just st-steal yours.” Bill strokes his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” Eddie murmurs, but there’s a small smile on my face. He sighs and leans into Richie. “You guys are the best, do you know that?”

“N-No, you.” Bill laces their fingers together.

“Yeah, spaghetti, you’re the best.” Richie kisses his hair.

Eddie closes his eyes, and settles back.

“We d-don’t have to m-make any d-decisions tonight,” Bill says. “W-We can t-talk t-tomorrow.”

“Ok,” Eddie says. He sighs again and sits up. “You guys wanna do something?”

“Like what?” Richie asks.

“Play Mario Kart?”

“Only if you don't cry when I kick your butt!" Richie says as he pulls himself free and gets up to set up the Switch. Eddie scoots around and leans into Bill's side.

"Yeah, we'll see who cries, Tozier!" Eddie teases.

Bill knows it is a toss-up between the two; they are both really good. It's Bill that's going to be the loser, but he doesn't really care. He's terrible at video games, but he loves being with his boyfriends.

He sits there listening to them argue about who is the worst player and waits to be handed a controller. He loves listening to them bicker like this, and he knows Eddie bickering is a good sign. Licking his lips, Bill leans into Eddie, eyes closed for a moment.

"You ok, Bill?" Eddie asks as Richie's attention falters. He's fighting with the cords and cursing under his breath.

"Yeah, I'm good." Bill takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Love you so much."

Eddie squeezes his hand. "Love you."

"Got it!" Richie says triumphantly. He tosses a couple of controllers at them and sits near the TV. "You two losers ready?"

"Shut up, buttmunch," Eddie says. "Get ready to eat my dust!"

"Bring it!" Richie says.

Bill struggles with his controller and gets settled. He knows the next couple of weeks are going to be hard. Eddie had agreed tonight that they would change their winter break plans, but that doesn't mean that it isn't going to be a struggle. He knows Eddie wants to break free, but Bill knows it isn’t easy; Sonia has a firm grip on her son.

Bill is not looking forward to the back and forth that is inevitably coming, but he decides there is no point in worrying about that now. Right now, Eddie is happy, Eddie is safe, and the three of them are going to have a good night. Tomorrow is future Bill’s problem, and tonight all he has to worry about is not driving the wrong way on the track. He knows everything will be ok.

#kaspbroughzier #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it #it chapter 2 #i love these losers so much #i'm sorry it took so long #life got hectic #then i took a writing break #i hope you like it.#Anonymous

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friendlylocalwhumper · 4 years

Text

content warning: a central point of this drabble is that there is a lot of blood, to the point that i think it’s gore. also please check the tags for squicks!

Thin, jagged gasps slip out of Lux - quiet, quiet. He needs to listen. Listen to the footsteps, the man walking around. Taking a break from using the knife, or giving Lux time to gather himself for the next round.

The footsteps sound like they’re headed toward the windows. There’s a soft scraping and sliding: the fabric-lined cover of a book getting pulled across the surface of a shelf. The man makes a short amused sound.

“Weird old books. You like to read?”

Twisting his raw wrists in the rope binding them above his head, Lux licks his lips, clears his throat. They’re Emory’s books, but Lux won’t dare mention his boyfriend, put his life at risk. “I, I try.”

“You try? What, can’t read?”

“No, I just…” The blindfold secured over his eyes makes him terribly anxious, but the cloth gag out of its place and resting loosely across his throat is easily worse. Any touch there, any pressure at all, and it’s like his lungs forget how to do their job. It doesn’t help that there’s a knife in his stomach. “Nnh. I, ‘s hard, for me, to s-stay focused. I don’t, I, do-on’t get through books ve-ery fast.”

“Hmm.” The book slides back into its place on the shelf and the footsteps start up again. Lux can’t tell which direction they’re headed in, just that they’re still behind the sofa. He hears a small metal-on-wood sound, a clinking of glass. “Cute picture. You and him really look happy.”

It’s the picture frame from the little table under the windows, the picture of Lux and Emory on the beach. Lux usually feels proud when he sees it, a rare time that he let himself show his scars outside, and even rarer for someone capturing it with a camera - but now he feels nauseous at the thought of it, of this man seeing him and Emory holding hands and commenting on it like Lux isn’t lying in a pool of his own blood across the room.

The picture frame is set down. Footsteps. Lux can’t see, can’t be sure of his hearing. A stray whimper escapes him here and there as he waits for something to happen.

Footsteps on the kitchen floor. The fridge opens with a funny suctioning sound and a whirring hum of electricity. Something clinks. Is he taking something out to drink? Yes, a soda is opened with a crisp snap.

“Such a good host,” Jokes the man, and then he sets down the can, walks over. Lux shudders against the floor and clenches his jaw. “Okay. Tip your head back, now. Better angle.”

A tremulous breath. Lux obeys, or thinks he does, letting his head fall back an inch. There’s movement, the man’s shoes meeting the floor, the sound of someone crouching nearby, Lux has heard that enough times - fingers are in his curls in an instant and his hair is grabbed onto, his head shoved back until his neck is bared.

A moment passes, a terribly tense moment. Is the man angry, watching for rebellion, for a surrender? Is he looking for something? Does he just like to move suddenly and grab so that Lux takes these breaths that squeak with pure terror?

The hand leaves his hair, but the man doesn’t move away. Head still tipped back between his arms, his elbows are straight above him in the air, arms at a loose angle with his wrists tied to the leg of the sofa.

He wasn’t tied the whole time. He was just pinned, and then the weight lifted off of him, and he struggled. He pushed and scrabbled and stumbled to his feet to run. His bloody hands slipped against the walls, his shaking legs wobbled under him - and he was tackled, pinned, beaten. As if the guy didn’t love the rush of letting him think he could escape.

“Time for more of the knife, now. You know what that means, right? Say yes, last thing you’ll get to say for a while.”

“Y-yes.” Fingers brush against his throat, and Lux yelps. His attacker laughs as he scoops up the gag and pulls it back up to slide between Lux’s teeth. He even grabs Lux’s hair to pull his head up and pat his cheek before shifting to reach for the knife embedded in the warlock.

A long, winding keen slips out of Lux along with the knife’s blade. A hand presses over the wound, pushing down on it, around it - not to staunch the bloodflow, but to dip into the blood that spills out. The warlock’s jaw is grabbed, and the smell of the fresh blood so close, his blood, makes him eke out a muffled whine and try to turn his head away.

“Hey, hey. Calm down. Just making it a little more colorful. It’s a real shame that that blindfold’s on, you know? This place is covered in blood, I’d love for you to see it. You’d probably faint. But I guess it’s better this way, huh? Long as the blindfold’s on, you might get to live!” At Lux’s frightened sound, the man hums “mmhmm” in patronizing agreement. “If you see my face, I can’t let you go, can I? That blindfold comes off and you know you’re about to take this knife right in the head. So it’s good that I put that thing on you in the first place.”

Lux nods, petrified and eager to show his understanding, his gratitude. He doesn’t want to die, it’s worth the terror of not seeing what’s coming to get to live.

“Yeah. Okay, more knife.” The tip of the blade taps against Lux’s chin as if to tease him for letting things veer off-topic, and then it’s in Lux again, buried right into him with a quick, harsh stab down into his belly. The muffled scream that comes is answered with the blade sliding back out, and back in, a few inches to the side.

“Bit loud there, Lux. Got you gagged for a reason.”

The warlock whimpers behind the gag, nodding again in a wordless apology. His body shifts restlessly as the knife is pulled out again and dragged across his skin in search of a good place to be pushed back in.

Time drags on like taffy being pulled, stretched, wound across metal arms to droop and fold. Lux’s head remains tipped back as he takes slow shuddering breaths through the pain. He passes out, he thinks - get dizzy and nauseous, and then jerks awake, the knife lodged in a different part of his body, the man on the other side of his limp body. The warlock chews idly on the gag, tongue heavy and unwieldy. He whines.

“What? Yeah, it hurts, obviously. Why you making sounds again?” Fingers tap against Lux’s cheek, then slip under the gag to pull it out. Lux licks his lips and closes his mouth. “What’cha whining about?”

“Mmh, th-, th-...” The warlock’s voice cracks. He wouldn’t need water so bad, he thinks, if he knew he could get some himself whenever he wants to. Knowing he can’t, though, makes the need so much sharper. “Thi-irsty.”

“Oh! Hey, perfect solution.”

The guy gets up and walks away. The knife is on the floor, Lux thinks, definitely not in him right now. Dried blood cracks across his bare stomach as he lets out a slow breath.

The man is back, propping up Lux’s head, tipping a can of soda against Lux’s lips. He drinks eagerly, brows furrowed at the thought of this man having drank from the same can. He doesn’t care about germs, really, it’s just upsetting that this is all so casual, as if they’re close friends and he knows Lux won’t be bothered by it.

“Gotta be flat by now. Been sitting out for a few hours. No use cracking open a fresh one if this one’s sitting around, though, right?” He lets Lux finish off the can. After a second, there’s a rush of air across Lux’s chest and a loud clattering in the kitchen. Lux flinches. The guy threw the can, and missed the trash bin by the sound of it.

There’s a sigh above him. “Guess I’ve had enough time with you.” Fingertips touch Lux’s arm, then his cheek, sliding up to the blindfold. “Thinking about taking this off.”

A chill sinks into Lux’s heart. If the blindfold comes off, he’ll be killed, he remembers. The gag is still out from being given something to drink, he can beg, beg for his life. “Nnh, no, don’t, d-don’t wanna die, please I, I won’t-” The blindfold slips up, pushed so Lux could see if he wanted to. The warlock keens in panic and squeezes his eyes shut. “D-, didn’t see you, I, ple-ease please put it back, don’t ki-ill me, ple-e-ease!”

The man laughs. “Well, you are doing your best, aren’t you? You really don’t want to die. You’re sure you didn’t see me? Not one little peek?”

“N-no I didn’t, m-my eyes were closed the, the, the whole time, please l-let me live, I’ll never - I-I…” Lux isn’t sure what the man wants. He hasn’t said anything about Lux being good. He hasn’t called him a warlock, hasn’t yelled at him for using magic. Maybe he’s just mocking Lux, watching him fumble with his begging before killing him. A whine escapes the bloody, terrified warlock. “I-I just want… Emory.”

“Emory?” A moment passes. “Oh! Your boyfriend? You want him?”

“Mmh, mmhmm. Want… wan’im to sa-ave me, h-help… help me clean up, and f-feel safe, and s-say, say I was brave.” Pitchy warbles take hold of his voice here and there to make it nearly crack into silence. “I, I, d-din’t I… take it well? Di’n’I k-, keep quiet?”

“It’s all those scars, I bet, the ones under all this blood. You’re used to it. And besides, you weren’t all that brave, you made some sounds when you were trying to escape.”

Shame burns across Lux’s cheeks. “I know. I, I… ple-ease, I just, want him to find me, he-elp me.” If begging for his own sake does no good, then he can at least beg for Emory. It would be so much worse for Emory to come home to a corpse than to Lux hurt, bleeding and crying as he so often is.

“...Find you,” Mutters the man, patting Lux’s chest. “Yeah, find you! Oh that’s fun.” The blindfold is pulled back down, and Lux can breathe again. The gag is pushed back between his teeth - frightening, since he can’t beg anymore, can’t argue for his own life - and the knife comes back to his skin. Lux shivers. He thought it would be over, one way or another.

“Need more blood. We’re gonna put on a real show for when your man gets back!”

As soon as he opens the door, Emory freezes. Something is wrong.

The lights are off. Yes, it’s daytime, but Lux likes to keep the lights on anyway, so shadows and dark corners don’t trick his mind into seeing movement when no one should be around.

The door was unlocked. Lux keeps it locked, always, so no one can come in without making a lot of noise, or having the key. Especially when he’s home alone, that’s important to him.

Emory steps inside, setting down his bags silently. The framed photos on the table in the entrance are at an odd angle. There’s something smudged on the glass of one of them, but Emory can’t make out what it is in the dark.

He has an ominous feeling that he shouldn’t make a sound, shouldn’t turn on the lights. If someone was here, there’s no knowing if they left.

Carefully, he steps further into the house. There’s another dark smudge, on the wall. As he walks along, he sees bigger smudges, all trailing to a handprint.

He’s near the end of the little entrance hallway now, and there’s more than enough light from the windows to see the color of the smudges. Deep ruddy brown. Dried blood.

Emory turns, stiff with fear, to see a knife on the floor.

There are sounds, he can hear them now, coming from the living room. Whimpers.

He wants to help Lux, he does. He knows those are Lux’s sounds. He knows this is Lux’s blood. It all feels like a nightmare. He just… can’t know what state Lux is in until he sees it. He could just be stabbed through the hand. He could be missing a limb. Emory can’t know. Maybe Lux is dying, maybe he’ll die in Emory’s arms. A small, irrational part of his mind wonders if he can just sit down on the floor, and breathe, and wait to wake up. This can’t be real.

Emory comes out from behind the corner to see it. Lux, lying on the floor, covered in blood. It’s pooled under him, and smeared around him, on the walls, on the rug, on the sofa. Rope is wound around Lux’s wrists to keep him where he is. He’s shirtless, and there are so many new cuts across his front that Emory wonders how long it must have taken to make all of them. His arms are cut into, too, and his sides. It’s so thorough that it had to be slow and deliberate, not a quick brutal attack with rapid-fire stabs and a bolting criminal. This was torture.

Little fluttery breaths make Lux’s ribs rise and fall, blood weeping from the cuts in the skin there. As Emory gets closer, silent with horror, he sees the pink skin of Lux’s scarred wrists, worn raw from struggling. He’s still twisting his arms weakly to pull at rope that won’t give. He’s even letting out little frustrated whines as it gets him nowhere. Sweat beads in the divot between his collarbones, and on his brow.

There’s a strip of cloth tied around his head to serve as a gag, and another one over his eyes. It’s not right, hurting someone in their own home, someone as vulnerable as Lux, and taking away their ability to see and speak. It’s amazing that Lux isn’t sobbing into that gag, that the blindfold isn’t soaked with tears.

Emory crouches next to his boyfriend, hands hovering. Lux quietens his breaths and tips his head to listen. Emory can’t speak, his throat’s clogged with grief.

With his most gentle, most careful touch, Emory tries to move the blindfold.

Lux’s whole body jerks with his flinch, a desperate cry cracking out of him as he tries to hide unders his arms. Wordless, panicked sounds are muffled by the gag. There’s a tremor in Emory hands, now, that echoes Lux’s full-body shaking.

“Hey, Curls, it’s just me. Just me, just Em, honey. I’ve got you.” His voice is hushed. He’s sure that there’s no one else in the house, but this still feels like a delicate, dangerous moment. Lux is so scared, must have been for… hours, probably? Days, maybe.

A smell, one that was vague at first but is stronger now, overwhelms Emory. He blinks, looks around, and finally down at Lux, at his jeans. There’s a slowly growing dark spot there. Emory scared him so bad that Lux wet himself.

The horror settles deeper in Emory at making this more difficult for Lux. How humiliating, how degrading it must be to be tied up on the floor of his own home and cut into, blindfolded and gagged. Emory’s not making it any better.

“I’m sorry, honey.” His voice cracks with guilt. Being upset over seeing all the blood isn’t an excuse for doing this wrong, for scaring Lux after whatever he just went through. There’s so much blood, there are so many cuts, the pain must be unbearable. Lux whines behind the gag. “I’m gonna take off the blindfold, okay? It’s just me, it’s safe-” He tries again, fingers dipping under the cloth, but Lux jerks his head to the other side with a pitchy sound. The warlock is breathing quick and shallow like he’s going to get stabbed for turning away.

“You don’t want it off? ...Okay, that’s okay. What about this?” He taps against the cloth stretched across Lux’s cheek. He gets a hesitant nod in response. “Okay, here goes. Just this one, I promise.” The gag is pulled so it can stretch enough to get out from between Lux’s teeth and be untied. Lux takes deep breaths, rolls his jaw with a wince.

“Em?” Asks Lux, small and unsure. “‘s you?” He shifts uncomfortably, shame settling across his features. Emory cups his cheek and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah, honey. I’m sorry I scared you. I just… I got freaked out. I wasn’t thinking. There’s… a lot of blood.”

A shudder tears through Lux. “H-he said… I know. Ca-an you - please, my arms?” His wrists tug on the rope half-heartedly.

“Yeah, ‘course, I got you.” The rope is wound tightly around itself, stuck in tense knots. Emory pulls at it, digs in with his nails, but can’t get any give at all. The room seems to get physically colder as he remembers the knife lying on the floor nearby. “...Honey, I’ve gotta cut the rope.”

“C-cut the…?” Under all the blood stains, Lux pales. “With the…?”

It’s covered in blood, the blade and the handle both stained. Emory could go get a different knife, or scissors or something… but he doesn’t know if he can stand Lux fearing he’s been left for good when Emory stands and walks into another room. He doesn’t have to patience to do that whole thing. Lux deserves to be free, now.

He reaches for the knife. Freezes, kneeling at Lux’s side, looking down on the blood-stained, cut-up body of his boyfriend, the knife that did it weighty in his hand. If he was Lux, he’s doubt for a second, wonder if he actually did the cutting. But he’s not Lux.

The knife doesn’t do the job as fast as he’d hoped. Emory’s incredibly careful not to slip and nick Lux’s wrist, sawing through one of the rope’s knots. It takes a couple minutes of cutting, Lux’s breaths coming in short gasps, before the rope falls loose and can be pulled apart. As it slides along those raw wrists, Lux moans in pain.

“I’ve got you,” Emory murmurs again as he gingerly lowers Lux’s arms. “There. Better, honey?”

Lux gives a noncommittal groan.

“Do you think I can take off the blindfold now? Now you know it’s safe?”

“Nnh, d-don’t, I - he, h-he said if, if I see him, he’ll kill me, I - d-don’t wanna die.”

The frightened confession steals Emory’s breath. So Lux was attacked, was terrorized. No wonder he’s so scared, even now. “Right. But he’s not here, now. Just me. So it’s safe. He’s gone, you won’t see him.”

Emory slowly helps Lux to sit up, and is beyond relieved to find that there are no cuts across his back. He rubs circles there, eager to comfort in whatever small way he can.

“Mmmnh, but - he… I th-thought he was gone… thought he was, a wh-, while ago, and when - when I tried, to, to get untied, he…” With a whimper, Lux presses a hand to his stomach, over some of the stab wounds. “...Wh-, what if, he’s n-not gone? I, I can’t… I tried, to - to do wha-, whatever I had to, s-so you, you wouldn’t come home, to see… see, me, see me dead.”

Grief clogs up Emory’s throat once again. Lux tips his head to the side, breaths quieting again, listening for a response. He’s scared.

“Sorry, Curls. It’s okay. God, I’m sorry that happened to you. The blindfold can stay on if you want. Let’s just… get you cleaned up, and on the bed, okay? And I’ll… I clean up all the… everything, while you rest. So when you do feel okay to take it off, you don’t see… things.”

Pink bathwater drains languidly from the bath, bloody footprints wiped from the tile floor.

The rug, out in the living room, has been rolled up and shoved under the couch - Emory didn’t think it would be smart to toss a blood-drenched rug out on the curb.

The walls and floor are wiped down, but the stains won’t leave. Emory’s checked his bank account on his phone about ten times to make sure he has enough to spend on covering up the flooring and painting over the walls himself.

Lux lies in bed, passed out, pale. His whole chest is wrapped up in pristine white gauze, winding up from his waist, over his ribs, up over his shoulders and down his arms. He was able to relax once all the cuts were covered up, held secure. Blood seeps through the bandages in little spots.

He shook and apologized when Emory helped him get undressed and step into the bathtub. As if the blood was fine, the deep cuts and torn skin, but the fact that Lux wet himself would be enough to frustrate Emory. He just guided Lux to kneel in the water so it wouldn’t rise above his hips, and carefully wash between the cuts. It would be awful to get them infected - he doesn’t even want to imagine the fever that would come, the pain Lux would be in.

At least he’s asleep now. He went boneless, at one point, between getting his body bandaged and making it to the bed. Emory knew the pain was bad, but feeling Lux faint in his arms, it made his heart clench with guilt as if he piled up all the agony on Lux on purpose to knock him out.

So by sundown, the house is as clean as it’ll get. Lux is tended to, safe, set to heal.

Emory sits on the now-bare floor in the living room. The knife lies in his hands, still stained with Lux’s blood.

All he did was spend one weekend away. A convention: books, like-minded thinkers, seminars, vendors, lunches. Three days away from home. Lux had sworn he’d be fine. They texted, right when Emory got in the car to leave; Lux didn’t answer any of the following texts, not for Emory’s whole trip. He thought maybe Lux forgot to check his phone, or was trying to prove he would be fine alone.

Someone took advantage of that, of Emory being gone. Someone knew he’d be gone. Knew that they’d have three days to spend on tearing Lux open and spilling his blood all over their home.

He can’t help but wonder, as his grip tightens on the handle of the knife, whether this was torture for Lux, or a message for Emory.

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fratboyvivimatthews · 5 years

Text

superstar - jack hughes

summary: with being drafted first comes the media tour, and a lot of time away. something you’re used to being jack’s girlfriend, only this time something seems wrong.

warnings: sad fluff, swearing

word count: [8,190]

“You know I should be happy right now,” Jack admit eyes pulling away from yours, his forehead dropping to rest against your own. “I’m about to get on a private plane, talk hockey for who knows how many days, get to play hockey at the prospect camp, and best of all - sign my contract.” His blue eyes met your e/c again, as you cupped his cheeks in your hands.

“But you’re not?” You asked not understanding fully. “J, this is what you’ve been dreaming about since you started skating. At this time next year we’ll be at the lake house talking about your first NHL season. You should be over the moon.”

A soft smile graced his face while he tilted his head to press a kiss to the inside of your hand. “Yeah, and I am Y/n/n, promise. I’m over the moon, but I’d be even happier if I got to take you to Newark with me. Mom and dad are going, and they said it’s okay if you come. I get your reasoning for wanting not to, I really do love, but I want you there with me. Supporting me, so please Y/n/n you can still come with,” Jack begged a hopeful look in his eyes, but as soon as he saw you start to shake your head, it was gone.

Sighing you offered him a sad smile. “Jack, you know I want to come with. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before college and you the NHL, but babe this isn’t my place to be,” you explained with a frown painting your face. “This is about you, not me, and it should be for you, and your parents. They’re the people who’ve been there for you through it all, I haven’t.”

It was Jack’s turn to frown as he slowly nodded his head. “Don’t you get it Y/n? Your place is there, because your place is with me. Sure my parents have been supporting me forever, but so have you. Who was the person there for me in Minor Midget?”

“Me,” you mumbled looking down at his dress shoes, and your high top converse.

“That’s right you were love. Y/n anywhere I’ve been you’re there following me, cheering me on. You have been since we met and became best friends when we were five. That’s not gonna change now that I’m in Jersey and you’re at Penn State,” Jack rambled, his hands now resting on top of your own. “So this is just as much for you as it is me, and my parents. Please baby, just come with us,” he whispered, eyes never pulling away from yours.

You opened your mouth to speak but were cut of by someone calling for Jack. “You have to go to Newark J, without me. I’ll be fine with Quinn and Lukey - hey why are your eyes watering?” Gently his head shook, and a single tear slipped out of his eye. Your thumb brushed over his cheek wiping the tear away. “J please don’t cry,” you whispered as more threatened to fall, “it’s okay love. You have all of those fans waiting for you, so much planned. Plus we’re still gonna get to talk every single night you’re gone. It’s going to be okay Jack.”

His head nodded as the smile he held for you, and only you grew on his face, “‘m gonna miss you, that’s all.” You nodded quick to agree with him, as he was called for again but his time by Ellen. Your arms snaked around his neck so you could pull him close to you. “God ‘m gonna miss you so fuckin’ much Y/n/n. I just wish you’d come with.”

Turning your head you pressed a kiss to his neck, trying your hardest not to cry. “‘M gonna miss you too J. So damn much, but you know I can’t. I’d feel out of place, spend time with your mom and dad for me. You can call me whenever you want, I’ll always answer you.” He nodded before pulling away slightly.

“Jack come on we gotta go,” Jim called making you both frown.

“I’m coming,” he called over his shoulder before giving you his full attention again. His lips pressed against yours softly before he pulled away from you. “Well I guess I gotta go,” he muttered scared to look you in the eyes as he did.

“You better go J, or else they’re gonna be coming over here to get you,” you answered untangling yourself from him. “Hey, I love you superstar. You’re gonna have a great time there, I know it.”

Jack leaned over grabbing his bag before throwing it over his shoulder. “I love you too Y/n/n, I’ll call you when we land.” You gave him a thumbs up scared to hear the waver in your voice as he pressed one last kiss to your cheek, before turning around and walking towards Ray Shero and the rest of the management staff. Sighing you turned around and walked towards Quinn and Luke who had watched the entire scene play out.

When you made it over to them Quinn’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into him as the three of you walked towards the gate for your own flight. “It’ll be okay Y/n/n, I know it sucks right now, but Jack will understand why you didn’t go with. Plus you’re in good hands with us.”

A smile cracked across your face and you nodded, “Yeah I guess I am.”

“He fucking met Adam Sandler,” you called throwing your phone on to Jack’s bed. “That lucky little bitch.” The door burst open and in came both Luke and Quinn concerned looks on their faces. “What’s wrong?” You asked confused as of why they were suddenly in the one place you found comfort when Jack was gone for hockey.

“There was screaming,” Luke huffed collapsing on the bed next to you out of breath. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.” Your eyes moved up to Quinn who nodded in agreement before dropping down on the other side of you. “But you were saying?”

You scrambled to grab your phone to show the two boys the picture that the Devils had posted on Twitter and Instagram. “Jack got to meet Adam Sandler, and th-” You were cut off by the sound of Jack’s text tone and a notification from him.

In the message was the same picture of him and the actor captioned: met your second favorite hockey player. games about to start. A smile broke out on your face, even if he had broken the news about meeting Happy Gilmore late.

my second favorite player? who’s my first j? well, have fun, and quit texting me! enjoy it babe:)

You were quick to clear out the conversation seeing as Quinn and Luke were looking over your shoulder to see what was happening. “Will you quit looking at our messages? God you’re worse than Jack,” you huff in annoyance locking your phone, ignoring the fact he had just texted you again.

“You’re not gonna answer that?” Quinn asked picking your phone up from where you dropped it. “Oh look he snapped you too Y/n/n, it must be important.” Your eyes rolled as your snatched the phone from his hands.

“Trying to hide something Y/n? Don’t want us to see something?” Luke pressed with a smirk growing on his face, a matching one also on Quinn’s. You shoved the youngest Hughes brother away from you, reaching over him in the process to grab the remote for Jack’s tv. Turning it on you pressed a button bringing up Netflix causing both Quinn and Luke to groan.

Looking between the two you raised your eyebrows, “Something wrong boys?”

“Yeah there is. I swear to god Y/n/n, if you put Gossip Girl on I’m gonna kill you. I don’t get how Jack puts up with it. You’ve rewatched it how many times?” Sheepishly you held up five fingers causing Luke to scoff and Quinn to shake his head. “You guys have been dating for three years, I swear that’s the only thing you guys watch on Netflix.”

Luke was rapidly nodded his head. “It is, sometimes Friends gets thrown in there, but otherwise it’s always Gossip Girl.” Your mouth dropped open shocked that he had ratted you out to his older brother. A smirk of victory painted his face, and you shook your head arms crossing over your chest.

“Fine we won’t watch Gossip Girl,” you sigh skipping over it on your recently watched. “How ‘bout The Office? Some Michael Scott sounds good right about now.” The two of them fell quiet and they knew you were missing Jack, and that’s exactly why they didn’t plan on leaving your side. The three of you soon cuddled up together, your head resting on Luke’s chest. You were so into the show, and bickering with the two brothers that you hardly answered Jack, or heard when he text you.

Occasionally you’d answer his score updates, his random i miss you’s, mixed in with some i love you’s. Your responses were simple; telling you missed him too, that you loved him, a couple thanks for the updates, ended with the “i’m not the priority j. pay attention to the game”. The time must have flown by because suddenly you got a notification that he had posted on Instagram followed by a text message.

on the way to the hotel. talk to you in a few?

of course, i’ll be waiting

“Was that J?” Quinn asked causing you to nod your head from Luke’s chest. “What did he say? Tell you to go like his new post?” Reaching over you slapped his shoulder while Luke laughed next to you. “I’m joking Y/n, what did he actually say? I haven’t heard from him like at all today.”

“He said he’s on his way back to the hotel, and that he’ll talk to me in a few,” you explained your attention falling back on to the tv show. You laughed along to some stupid joke Dwight made trying to shake the feeling that Quinn and Luke were both looking over at you. “Do you guys wanna stay and talk to him or?”

Luke’s body shrugged from underneath you, and you turned to see Quinn do the same. “He’s calling you Y/n/n, not us. We can talk to him another time.” Looking up you watched Luke nod his head to agree with his oldest brother. “We can stay and sa-”

The sound of Jack’s ringtone played throughout his room, as you picked up your phone from where you set it on Luke’s chest. You were quick to hit the green accept button, just seeing his contact picture brought a smile to your face. “Hi Jackie,” you sang smiling brightly up at him.

“Hi Y/n/n, god it’s good to hear your voice finally,” he gushed while setting his phone up so it rested against a lamp. “Hi Luke, hi Quinn. Please stop trying to steal my girl from me,” he teased referring to you still cuddled up to his younger brother.

“Don’t worry J, we’re just here to say hi, but now she’s all yours,” Luke informed shoving you off of him. Him and Quinn both waved at the camera before disappearing out of the room, and closing the door behind them.

Jack sighed on the other line while pulling his black tee-shirt off and throwing out of the frame somewhere. “Are you trying to give me a trip tease J? Because I hate to break it to you, I’m already dressed for bed in one of your sweatshirts and a pair of your boxers.” His laugh filled your ears, but your couldn't help but notice how it seemed wrong. Not in a bad way, but in a way were he sounded like he was sick. A concerned smile crossed your face which didn’t go unnoticed by him, but you were quick to ask him questions. “So how was your day today? The game looked like it turned out eventful.”

He was quick to smile and nodded before picking up his phone and falling back onto the white hotel pillows. “Yeah it turned out pretty eventful,” he answered, hand running through his hair. “But yeah it was busy. I had that podcast, met with some fans, the MSG network thing, and then the game. So yeah pretty busy. What about you love, what’d you do?” He asked eyes glued to you the entire time.

“Well Jackie, my day wasn’t that eventful, but yeah I did nothing. Worked out with Luke and Quinn and that was about it. I can barely feel my body,” you whined causing his laugh to fill your ears, and you couldn’t help but focus on the fact that it still didn’t sound right. “Watched some episodes of The Office, but nothing much.” He nodded his head and your mind started racing, thinking of the podcast he had done, then it clicked. “Hey J, are you feeling okay?” You asked sitting up to rest against the headboard.

Jack’s eyebrows raised in confusion as he slowly nodded his head. “Yeah I feel fine, why babe?” Your shoulders shrugged and you focus back on the TV in front of you embarrassed you assumed wrong. “Hey talk to me Y/n/n, why do I don’t look okay?”

Your eyes went wide as you shook your head no. “God no J, you looked so good in that suit last night, and on that talk show. Plus again today? Wow I can’t believe that you’re all mine.” A pink tint colored his cheeks as you rambled on. “It’s just you sound sick, you know what I'm getting at?” He hummed in response causing you to look back down at your phone to see his face. “Not only that, but you look exhausted babe.”

“Well I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, that talk show and whatever,” he explained and you nodded your head quickly, not fully believing him. “I’m kinda jet lagged, but it’s getting better, but yeah I think I’m fine.” You could tell it was a lie as soon as it left his mouth, and you knew it was a lie because he had called you three times during the night. Each time you missed because you were sound asleep, but you woke up to one voicemail, and two texts; one being the explanation for the calls, and the second being your normal good morning text from him.

It was safe to say you knew he wasn’t okay. “Okay well, if you say there’s nothing wrong, I guess there’s nothing wrong right?” You asked biting into his lie. He mumbled a ‘right’ and you forced a smile. “J it’s pretty late, you should try to get some sleep superstar. You got another big day tomorrow.”

Closing his eyes he sighed. “I know, and that’s why I wish you were here Y/n/n, I could really use one of your back massages right about now.” That was another tell that he wasn’t okay, he never asked for a back massage unless something was really bugging him. “But I get why you didn’t come love, and you’re right I do need to get some sleep. A lot is happening tomorrow.” Smiling you nodded your head, proud of what he was doing, but also sad you couldn’t be there for him when he clearly needed you there with him. Now that was on you.

“Well I guess I should let you go huh?” You asked with a defeated tone not wanting to say goodnight to him.

“Yeah I guess you should, unless you wanna stay on Facetime until we fall asleep,” Jack suggestested with a shy smile. “If you don’t want to I completely get it Y/n/n.”

“Jack you’re crazy if you think I don’t want to stay on the phone with you. Of course I do, but you have to promise to get some sleep,” you countered with a smile of your own. You hoped this would help you figure out if he really was getting sleep or not. His pinky showed up on the screen making you lift your own. “Goodnight J, I love you. Please, please get some sleep,” you begged while plugging your phone in, and setting it on Jack’s pillow.

Exhaustion started to pull his eyelids down, but his smile for you never faded. “Goodnight Y/n/n, I love you too, and I will. I promise.” It didn’t take you long to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing on the other line, but for Jack it was another sleepless night.

Wiping the sweat from your forehead you pulled the Hughes’ fridge open looking through it for the bowl of fruit you knew was hidden in there somewhere. But not before opening up the Devils new post which just happened to be of Jack and little kids. Squealing you were quick to go through the pictures, double tapping it in the process. The smile on Jack’s face caused your own to grow, Jack and little kids had that effect on you.

Screenshotting almost all of them, you sent them in a message to him along with a picture a picture of tears in your eyes and a bright smile across your face.

j, are you trying to kill me?

You knew you wouldn’t be getting an answer for awhile, but even though it hurt to think about you were okay with it. Locking your phone you went back to the mission at hand, and grabbed the tupperware of fruit before shutting the fridge door. Walking over to the island you set it down, pulled the top off and popped a few raspberries in your mouth as a text from Jack popped up on your lockscreen.

Opening it you saw a selfie of him and a little blond haired boy both smiling widely at you. Your heart raced at the image of your boyfriend with the cute little boy, almost so much that you missed his message.

that’s exactly what i’m doing love. this is chase, he says hi and that you’re pretty. i think he’s trying to steal you from me:/

well since you’re trying to kill me, i guess chase is my new boyfriend;)

“Why are you so happy? We just ran five miles,” the sound of Quinn’s voice caused you to jump and drop your phone onto the counter. “Oh shit sorry Y/n/n, I thought you heard me walk in.”

Grabbing a grape from the container you threw it at his head glaring at him, “No asshole I didn’t hear you walk in. You don’t make much sound when you walk into the kitchen Q.” His hands shot up in surrender as he bent over to pick up the grape that had hit him, and dropped to the floor. “And as of why I’m happy even after a run, your brother is with little kids signing stuff, and he sent me a picture of one.” Quinn didn’t even need to be looking at you to know your smile was larger than life. Everyone knew how happy Jack made you, plus mixed in with little kids? You were a goner.

“Well that explains it,” he answered with a smile of his own before sliding up next to you. “So did he have anything else to say, other than the fact he’s with fans?” The tone of his voice caused your eyebrows to raise as you reached in to grab a strawberry. “Don’t look at me like that Y/n, it’s a serious question.”

You shook your head no, choosing not to speak with your mouth full. “No he didn’t Quinn,” you stated mouth empty of fruit, “he’s still at the meet and greet with them. Busy man and all.” The oldest brother nodded his head to agree with you, popping a couple more grapes into his mouth. But you couldn’t help but focus on the look he was giving you. “You know something don’t you?” You questioned arms crossing over your chest.

Quinn’s shoulders shrugged as he silently ate more of the fruit in between the two of you. Narrowing your eyes you leaned in closer to him in efforts to make him speak. Sighing he caved, “Fine I do. I know that he needs you there Y/n/n.” Your eyes rolled as you grabbed more fruit to eat. “Hey don’t get mad at me, I’m telling you what you wanted to hear.”

It was your turn to sigh as Quinn’s focus never left you. “He looks so happy Quinn, he’s finally getting everything he’s ever deserved,” you spoke eyes staring down to your lock screen which showed a picture of you and Jack in the bathroom mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist, your back flush to his chest, and his lips pressing against the skin of your neck. “He doesn’t need me there.” Your eyes carefully glanced up to gage Quinn’s reaction who just stood there shocked you would say such a thing.

“Y/n/n you guys have been together three years, of course Jack needs you there,” he countered making you let out a huf. “You’re the person he goes to for everything, and he may be happy right now, but god Y/n he’d be so much happier if you were there.” Your heart squeezed at the thought of Jack being sad over the fact you weren’t there.

“How do you know that?” You whispered, pulling your gaze away from his, scared to admit you made a mistake by going back to Michigan and not going to Newark with Jack.

Quinn grabbed your hand away from the bowl of fruit, pulling your eyes with it. “Because I just do, and I just got off the phone with him, he needs you there Y/n,” he confessed with a sad look flashing across his face. “I can’t tell you why, that’s for him to tell, but listen to me when I say he needs you there. Jack needs you Y/n.”

You closed your eyes to stop the tears from falling, ones that shouldn’t have even formed in your eyes. Not when you had agreed with everything Quinn was saying to you. “Okay,” you mumbled opening your eyes to meet Quinn’s, “but only if you help me pack for Newark.”

Taking a breath you walked into the lobby looking around for the blond you had considered your own mother. “Y/n!” Wiping around you turned on your heels to see her open her arms for you to walk into. Even if had been only a couple of days since she last saw you, Ellen had missed you terribly. Almost as much as Jack did, but that’s what happens when you’re always spending your time at their house. “Oh it’s so good to have you here sweetheart, Jack’s missed you so much,” she whispered into your ear as you hugged her.

“Oh trust me, I know. Any chance he can he’s been texting me saying he misses me,” you inform with a large smile causing his mother to laugh. “At least we know he loves me right?”

“Oh please, that kid will never stop loving you. I swear he hasn’t stopped talking about you since the minute the two of you met,” Ellen explained slowly starting towards the doors that led into the arena. “And that was thirteen years ago.” Smiles graced the both of your faces as you thought back to the first time you met Jack. It was a local skating rink in Boston, and he ran into you, not paying attention to anyone other than the fact he wanted to go fast.

“All I remember is him almost crying because he ran into me,” you admitted opening the door for Ellen to walk through. “That and the fact Quinn was standing at your side laughing his head off.” Her eyes rolled as she shook her head at her oldest son. She mumbled a thank you while walking through the door, waiting for you to speak again. “Who knew running me over that day would lead to us being best friends, and now dating.”

Ellen sighed before smiling again. “I had a feeling it would,” she admitted arm wrapping around your waist pulling you towards her. You gave her a questioning look before she responded, “Call it mother’s intuition.” You nodded your head to agree with her as the two of you fell into place next to Jim on the boards.

He smiled over at you before taking his turn to hug you. “Y/n we’re so happy you decided to come out, Jack’s been going insane without you here. Needs someone to keep him grounded,” Jim confessed before pointing out to the ice where Jack was dressed in all new Devils gear. But Jack wasn’t the only thing that caught your eye, the fact that he was surrounded by little kids caused your heart to flutter.

“He’s skating with little kids,” you mumbled to yourself remembering the tweet you had read, “man how could I forget that that was today.” Ellen and Jim shared a look, but let you continued to look out at the ice, more entertained by a cute five year olds than you’re eighteen year old boyfriend. “Wait,” you said pulling yourself from your trance, “is it even okay for me to be here right now?” All of the doubts you had about coming to New Jersey in the first place suddenly filling your head. “Because if it isn’t I can just go back to the hotel, and wait to see him later tonight.”

Jim shook his head at you with a soft smile, “Y/n/n of course it’s okay for you to be here. We would’ve have invited you in the first place if it wasn’t.” Your smile made its way back onto your face having some reassurance that you could be there. “We’re going to go sit down, but feel free to stay and watch right here,” Jim informed. “But if you want to come sit down, we’re going to be right there,” he turned and pointed to somewhere to the left of you and you nodded your head.

But you choose to stay right where you were, watching from behind the goal as Jack messed around with a little boy. Soon his arms wrapped around him so he didn’t have to step over the black buffer. God you were so in love with him, you didn’t have a word to describe what you felt for him in that moment. The way he smiled down at the boy was breathtaking, and how he spoke to him sent you over the edge, love just radiating off of you.

Soon the drill changed, and after Jack demonstrated how to do something you found yourself glancing over to where he now stood talking amongst a couple of official looking people. Jack was standing off to the side, eyes glued to a kid in a red jersey, hardly paying attention to the conversation at hand until he heard what he wanted to hear. “Looks like you got an audience Hughes,” the guy said nudging his shoulder.

“Yeah my parents are here somewhere,” Jack answered not bothering looking around the arena to try and find him. He thought the little kids were much more entertaining than his parents.

The guy tapped him again, “No not your parents, there’s a girl at the other end.” Jack’s eyes snapped away from the kids to try and locate the girl he was getting told about - who happened to be you, but he didn’t know that yet. And when his eyes landed on you he swears he almost broke down into tears. “That’s your girl right?” He was asked, he had recognized you from the pictures Jack had posted, along with seeing you at the draft on Friday night.

“Yeah that’s Y/n, that’s my girl,” Jack answered voice sounding much livelier than it had been before, “if you'll excuse me.” That’s when you saw him skating towards you, his signature smile for you pulling on his lips. “Y/n, oh my god, what are you doing here?” He asked through the glass.

You smiled before shrugging your shoulders, “Needed to see you that’s all.” Jack held his hand up to his ear, a cheeky smile replacing the old one, but it didn’t stop you from playing his game. “Needed to see you,” you called again louder this time and Jack shook his head before pressing his ear to the crack in between the panels of glass. “I missed you, you dork okay?”

“I missed you too Y/n/n,” he admitted before turning to face you fully again, “we’re almost done here, then we’re going to lunch I think? I’m honestly not sure, but you’re going to come aren’t you?” Jack asked eagerly, his voice sounding much better than it had on the phone last night.

You nodded your head, “That’s why I’m here J, to support you, like always.” Jack turned away from you quickly at the mention of his name. He nodded his head before turning to look at you. “Looks like superstar duties call, I’ll meet you in the lobby with your parents.” He nodded and started skating backwards before you called out, “I love you superstar.”

As his smile grew on his face he couldn’t help but shake his head, his curls slightly falling out from his hat, “Right back at you love.” A frown crossed your face at his teasing manner before he said the three words, “I love you Y/n/n, I’ll see you out there in a few.” And just like that he had disappeared back to the group of kids who all lunged forward to try and hug him. Your smile only grew as you couldn’t help but shake your head at the scene.

Soon the kids were making their way off the ice, Jack and the other coaches following behind them. Ellen and Jim made showed up on both sides of you, “So how was Michigan, they boys weren’t burning the house down were they?” Your attention turned away from Jack who was staring at you smiling, over to his mother who couldn’t help but interrupt your staring contest with her son.

You chuckled before making your way towards the doors, “No they haven’t, but they did force me to work out with them. Yesterday Quinn made me go on a run, it was awful.” Your complaints caused the two adults to laugh as you walked through the door and back into the lobby. “But they watched The Office with me so it was okay, can’t complain too much.”

They both nodded their head to agree with you, but before either of them could answer Ray Shero was standing in front of your group. “So next we’re goi-” Then his eyes landed on you and he stopped talking, offering his hand out for you to shake, “Ray Shero, you must be the girl Jack can’t stop talking about. Y/n isn’t it?”

Your cheeks flushed red, and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Jack was talking about you to anybody who would listen. You placed your hand in the general manager for the Devils so he could shake it. “Yeah that’s me,” you said, “Y/n L/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Shero.”

The man laughed before pulling his hand back from yours, “The pleasure is all mine Y/n, but please, call me Ray.” You smiled kindly before letting him continue on with what he came over here to in the first place.

“Hey stranger,” Jack called causing you to focus on him, and not the conversation happening next to you. Once he got to you his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, pulling you in as close as he could. “I missed you so damn much Y/n/n,” he whispered into your ear. You couldn't stop smiling as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“Jack too tight,” you wheezed trying to pull away slightly. His arms loosened around your waist and he offered you an apologetic smile. “But I missed you too superstar, more than you’d know.” His eyes rolled as a muttered a not possible before pressing his lips to your cheek. “Okay so I was told there was going to be food, so I vote we do that first.” Jack laughed, the three adults soon joining, and you frowned, “I’m taking that as no.”

Before you got an answer Ray was leading the group out of the lobby, Jim right by his side talking about something. While Ellen waited by you and Jack. “Come on love,” Jack said offering you his hand, “you’ll get your food soon enough.” Sighing you placed your hand in his, interlacing your fingers together. “Hey, I love you,” Jack added holding the door open for you.

A pout stayed on your face as you pulled Jack through the door, waiting as he held it open for his mom, who you had no doubt was either taking a video or pictures of the two of you. “I mean, I guess I love you too. I’d love you even more if I got that food you were talking about.” Jack’s blue eyes rolled as he opened the car door for you allowing you to get in before following behind you, your hand still held tightly in his.

To say what he had to do was exhausting was an understatement. It was around eleven by the time you had actually went back to the hotel, and you had no idea how Jack had been doing this for three straight days. “All I can say is that I’m happy I can finally take these shoes off,” you stated before dropping down on the edge of his bed to pull the white converse from your feet.

Jack was still standing by the door taking his time to hang up his suit jacket. “All I can say Y/n/n is that I get to be the little spoon tonight.” Soon he was standing in front of you in between your legs, chest bare but his suit pants still on. “Don’t look so surprised, I always let you be the little spoon.”

You shook your head with a little laugh, “That’s not what I was getting at J. You can be the little spoon, that’s fine by me.”

“Then what were you getting at babe?” Jack asked confused, his hands coming down to grab your shoulders. “Is everything okay Y/n?”

Humming you looked up to his blue eyes. “I’m okay Jackie, promise. It’s just, you look like you haven’t slept since Saturday night.” His shoulders shrugged, his attention going to mess with the necklace around your neck that read “jack <3 y/n” on a golden plate. “Jack my eyes are up here.”

He sighed before taking a seat next to you. “That’s because I haven’t,” he admitted eyes running across your face to gage your react before he started to take off his dress shoes.

“What?” You asked shocked. “Why?”

Jack’s hand found its way to yours before he smiled sadly up at you. “Because I can’t sleep without you.” His confession caused your breathing to stop, and you didn’t know what to think. Then slowly it started to make sense. The random text messages you’d get from him while he was on a roadie and you were sleeping, the missed calls, voicemails, and of course the sneaking into his hotel room at tournaments.

Your eyes went wide with realization, and you frowned before throwing your arms around him. “Oh love, you poor thing.” You just sat there in silence, holding him while he melted into your side. “So this is why you needed me huh?” You asked remembering what Quinn had said. “You tell other people you can’t sleep without me, but you don’t tell me?”

Jack’s head tilted upwards from its place on your chest to flash you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know babe,” he whispered as you pushed his hair off his forehead. “I just - I, I dunno,” his voice got quiet and you could see the tears well up in his eyes.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay J,” your voice was soft as you place a kiss to his forehead. “If you don’t know, you don’t know, but for right now let’s just focus on the fact that I’m here with you okay? You’re gonna get some much needed sleep tonight, and for the rest of the summer because I’m not leaving your side.” What you thought would help only caused his tears to actually fall.

Your hands moved from their place on his back, to cup his cheeks in an effort to help wipe away the tears. “It’s not this summer I’m worried about,” he cried softly. “It’s the next four years.” Everything that was racing through your head came to a stop. Jack can’t sleep without you, and here you are, the two of you about to go separate ways for four years. Your heart rate picked up as you tried to make the situation better. Sure there were going to be times in the year you’d be together, but not that often during hockey season. Not when he needed you the most.

Tears filled your own eyes as you frowned down at him. “See? This is why I didn’t want to tell you I can’t sleep without you Y/n. Because you’re going to rethink everything, and with that over think it all.” Jack sat up, pulling away from your hands. “You’re going to Penn State, so don’t even try telling me that you’re not.” It’s like he could read your mind, because that’s exactly what you were thinking. “I love you too much to let you do that Y/n/n.”

“But then what are you going to do Jack?” You asked rubbing your eyes to try and get rid of the tears. “I can’t be there for you during the school year - the hockey season - and you have to sleep bub. It’s gonna kill you if you don’t.” Standing from the bed you walked over to your suitcase, pulling out a pair of joggers and one of Jack’s tee-shirts. “So tell me how I’m not supposed to over think that J. Because I love you, and god I-” the tears that fell from your eyes cut you off.

In a flash Jack was standing next to you, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close to him. Tears still fell down his face as you held each other in your arms. “It’s only 255 miles away from me, I promise I’ll figure something out Y/n.” Your head nodded against his chest, the doubts you were having still prominent. “Okay so maybe I won’t figure it out, because it’s fucking hard,” Jack confessed. “It’s near impossible to fall asleep without you next to me Y/n.”

Your mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Your heart ached at his words. “Then I won’t go to Penn State,” you whispered backing away from him a little to see his reaction. Jack’s mouth opened, but you beat him to it, “I know you told me not to, but J my dream school isn’t worth you putting yourself through that, I don’t want to put myself through that.”

“You’re going to Penn State,” Jack stated. “I’d rather never sleep again then take that away from you, especially because it’s not your fault, it’s mine.” Your eyes looked back up to Jack’s, his tears had stopped, but they were red and puffy. “You have nothing to feel bad about my love, you don’t have to put yourself through this,” Jack explained acting as if this wasn’t a big deal.

“I have nothing to feel bad about Jackie?” You scoffed, trying to not come off as mad. The last thing you wanted was to fight with him over this. “I have everything to feel bad about superstar. You can’t sleep without me Jack, that feels like it’s on me. If I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you J, you don’t sleep.” Jack’s eyes dropped down to the floor, his hands grabbing yours. “If I wake up in the middle of the night, you wake up too. We can’t have you play games tired, I have to be sleeping in the same bed as you end of story, or we have to figure something else out.”

He brought your right hand up and pressed a kiss against your knuckles. “Y/n, you’re going to Penn State, even if I can’t sleep without you in the bed. I guess we’ll just have to figure something else out, but you’re right, it is on you.” Your face fell at this comment, ready to fire back, but then Jack started to smile. “It’s on you that I’m so fucking in love with you, that I can’t sleep without you. That I’m that wrapped around your finger I wake up as soon as you wake up in the middle of the night, and you know what?”

“What?” You whispered eyes looking up at him through your lashes.

“I wouldn’t change it for the world,” he smiled wrapping his arms back around your shoulders. “We don’t have to figure it out right now, we’re supposed to be celebrating this week.” Your head shook at how fast his mood could change. “And you know what’s great for celebrations?” You rolled your eyes, ready to shoot down his idea which you figured would be sex. “Ice cream!”

A laugh escaped your mouth before you nodded to agree. “You know I can never pass up ice cream J. Vanilla and butterscotch has a special place in my heart just because of you, I hope you know that babe.”

Jack gave you a cheek smile, “Oh I know it does love. Now hurry up and change, there’s and ice cream place right across the road, and I wanna treat my girl.”

Your hand was interlaced with Jacks as you walked around the lower level of The Rock. The events of last night seemed like light years away, and the fact Jack fell asleep with a smile on his face, and he got a goodnight’s sleep was all you could ask for, especially since it was going to be another long day. Wake up early to eat breakfast and then gone all day. “Have I told you that you look beautiful today Y/n/n?” Jack asked, causing you to look away from the pictures on the walls to his blue eyes.

With red cheeks you nodded. “Maybe once or twice.” The smile on his face was contagious, and you couldn’t stop the one forming on your face even if you wanted to. “But it’s nothing much, just a t-shirt dress that’s been sitting in my closet, no big deal J.”

“Well dress or not, you look beautiful no matter what you wear Y/n/n,” he complimented before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “And that’s a promise.” If it was even possible your cheeks were a darker red, growing a deeper shade with every word he said about you. “Now, it’s time to go sign a contract with my girl by my side.”

It was your turn to place a kiss against his cheek unable to stop from smiling at him. “And I’m always going to be superstar. Now that you’re signing your ELC that means big bucks are on the way,” you started to tease with a cheeky smile. “Why would I leave when my boyfriend is going to be a hockey stud - well already is - and a millionaire? You ain’t getting rid of me now honey.”

Jack’s eyes rolled as he could hear his mother and father laughing behind the pair of you as you slowly made your way up the stairs. “Happy to know you’re only staying for the money,” Jack said playing into your game, “and not the promise ring around your finger.” Your shoulders shrugged as you smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt.

“Hey you know I love you J, and not the money. Of course I’m here for the promise ring around my finger,” you answered, voice trailing off after realizing how bad that sounded. Shaking your head you looked away from his eyes and down to the stairs. “You know I’m here for you, I’m in it for you, that’s the reason the promise ring is around my finger.”

“You know I’m just teasing you Y/n/n,” Jack sang while nudging you with his shoulder. “And I know exactly what you mean love, I’m in it for you too. So much that I can’t sleep without you.” A shy smile formed on your face as you looked back up to his eyes. “But you already knew that.” You hummed in response, not able to find the words as you came face to face with the door to Ray Shero’s office. Jack’s blue eyes looked down to the shocked look on your face. “Yeah, I know.”

You looked up to him with a smile, “It just doesn’t seem real, and I’m not even the one that’s about to sign an NHL contract.” Before anyone else could say anything you were all welcomed into the GM’s office, and getting right down to business. Small talk was made, as Jack got settled into a chair, his smile only growing in size. Throughout the whole meeting his eyes kept finding yours, and then he did it.

Jack signed his name on the dotted line making it official. Jack Hughes would be playing in the NHL for the New Jersey Devils in the 2019-2020 season, and it brought tears to your eyes. The boy who ran into on a rink thirteen years ago, the one you’ve watched grow into the player he is today, was finally getting to live out his dream. You were just thankful you got to be the one by his side for it all.

“Oh, and we have one more thing to show you all,” Ray smiled standing from his chair and leading your group out of his office. “If you’d follow me please.” Just like that Jack was at your side again, his hand sliding into yours as you made your way back down to ice level. The pace Ray had set was fast, clearly set on showing you all the surprise within the next couple of minutes.

And when you got there you could see why. Jack stared in awe at the dark arena, as he kept pulling you towards the light coming off the screen. Turning your head you watched as Ellen and Jim stopped and stood by the zam area and you thought you should do the same. So your tried to pull your hand from Jack’s but he stared at you confused. “What do you think you’re doing Y/n/n, you’re coming with me to see this.”

Shaking your head you smiled. “Jack just go,” you said trying to pull your hand back from his again, “I can wait by your parents. Go embrace it babe.” He shook his head with a cheeky smile, tugging your hand towards him, not letting you pull away from him. “Jack come on, quit being stubborn,” you huffed with a serious face.

“I’m not being stubborn, but I need you by my side for this,” he answered walking backwards towards the dark arena, “please?” Sighing you nodded, letting him pull you towards the area where the ice and boards should be, lit up by the jumbotron that had his face and number displayed on it.

The area fell silent and when your eyes should’ve been focused on the big screen you couldn’t pull them away from the astonished look on Jack’s face. Then the smile that came with, “And for the first time in The Rock, number eighty-six, Jack Hughes.” His hand squeezed yours before his blue eyes met your e/c ones. His tongue wet his lips before smiling widely down at you.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Jack confessed as you walked towards his parents. “Can somebody pinch me, because it doesn’t seem real. None of this seems real. I just signed my first NHL contract, with my three biggest supporters by my side, and heard my name called for the first of many times. But god it doesn’t seem real,” Jack gushed unable to shake the smile from his face.

You stopped, causing Jack to turn and look at the proud smile on your face, “Well you better get used to it superstar, because it’s gonna be happening for a long time.”

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #j.hughes #new jersey devils #fratboyvivmatthews masterlist #jack #hughes

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truthbehindthemysteries · 4 years

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~I Will Always Catch You~

A/N” One shot fic request: Fainting in Enobaria’s arms.

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People knew very well not to underestimate Enobaria for how much a beautiful mysterious danger she was. - After all, she had not only a reputation for how she was the victor of the 62nd Hunger Games but the fact that she had f a n g s – teeth filed sharp enough to resemble deadly incisors. Anyone who got to close would see how intelligent, blunt, dangerous, fierce she was. No one knew she had a heart of gold deep down. No one knew she could be soft, gentle and vulnerable. Except you. Everyone loses a piece of themselves to these vile games that prey on the lives of young children , forcing them to fight to the death until one one them remains standing, bathed in riches that others could only dream of. All at the mercy of a capitol who punishes them for others long ago committed.

You and Enobaria were in a close relationship. Growing up in District 2 { one of the wealthy districts who are close to the Capitol in wealth, loyalty, etc. }, You two had been best friends whose mothers were best friends, father's worked together. You two went to the same school and could go to each other about anything. Well that was of course after the fact that she stood up to a bully for you. You had something happen to you that gave you an injury that needed time to heal, someone had made fun of you and wouldn't seem to stop. Enobaria being … well, herself? Formed a fist and landed a punch so strong to the boy's jaw that he had to have surgery to get his jaw back in place. A dangerous serious process that if went wrong, he would never be able to use his mouth again and have to be fed through a tube.

Not long after that, sexualities were questioned and accepted but you two are together, happily in love, each other's rock when the other wants and needs even if they might not realize it. Anyway, it was the morning of the day where You, her and the other victors of previous games would find out the next tributes for each district for this years Quarter Quell. Now remember when I said that these Games take a piece of someone. It isn't something you can get past after all, just a young child thrown into dangerous situations and made to fight, hurt, k I l l other scared ones like you, hardened into little soldiers by ones older using you for their own greed, for their own e n t e r t a I n m e n t. Ones meant to love and care for you, protect you and keep you safe. Lets just say that you like anyone else had developed PTSD and panic attacks. There you and Enobaria were, sitting on a luxurious couch of a house you two shared together. Soon enough, President Coriolanus Snow himself showed up on the screen and started to speak,

“Ladies and Gentleman, this is the time in which we will begin the 75th Hunger Games, where specially, we'd also have the Quarter Quell.” Anywhere around, people had their eyes glued to the screen, you and Enobaria among others who watched with bated breath, not out of excitement like some might by unease, a want to get this over with and try to live life the best possible in p e a c e. As if that could ever be completely achieved in the world in which they lived in. Amongst the cheering, President Snow continued,

“It was written in the charter of the games that every twenty-five years, there will be a Quarter Quell. Now on this , the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell.” A drop in your stomach seemed to happen as you started into those eyes shown on the screen, you had a bad feeling about this. Not that you didn't seem to have them at times and always turn out to be right but those cold eyes as they addressed the nation, seemed to stare into the souls of everyone he made suffer. What you heard next was enough for you to intake a breath, rushing to your head resorting in a dizziness that had you fearing the idea of standing. You just might collapse, others would cry and unleash anger.

“As a reminder, that even the s t r o n g e s t cannot overcome the power of the Capitol. On this, the third Quarter Quell game, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district.”

You could barely focus on Enobaria's hand tightening in yours as she arched upward to look into Snow's slow smirking face with a look so murderous one would shiver and fear for their life. Feeling the beginning of a panic attack, you felt the pain as it got harder and harder to breathe. It came out in pants as you tried to calm it, slipping your hand from your girlfriend as it clutched at your chest. Moving forward on your knee's , you fell to the ground in front of the couch, your hands at your fall. Your body felt numb as you tried to catch your breath, panic inside your body like the rapid fluttering of a hummingbird's wings.

Immediately you heard Enobaria yell your name then you felt her arms encircling you as she helped you the best she could to get you back to reality, to her where it was s a f e. “Y/N!”, came her serious worried voice. A strangled choked up noise seemed to happen, not even realizing it was your own tears spilling down your cheeks, voice not able to form the words they so badly wanted to express. Eyes blurry with wetness, you felt her cup your cheek, “Y/N, sweetheart, look at me please. Come on, show me those beautiful eyes.”, she began to slowly and gently speak. You looked up weakly at her as she wiped the tears from your eyes, seeing love for you in hers despite the anger she was feeling, the murderous anger that was barely contained. You really were her anchor bc she would put it aside so long as you were safe, happy and alright.

“How could- I thought that we- that's not su-”, you tried to speak but you would choke up, cough and tear, your voice would crack. She rubbed at your shoulders, shaking her head from you trying to speak more. If you continued to get out of control with your breathing, your heart would only race faster. You were weak and dizzy enough, she didn't want to see you pass out bc if you did, that wouldn't be anything good. You were relatively good with taking your anti-depressants but bc of the ptsd that you had experienced from your own games – you often had nights where you woke up screaming, where you would flinch at any beginning of violence, anything that reminded you of all that you went through like anyone else and you would be inconsolable. The only ones who could manage to bring you out of it IF NOT Enobaria were any of your family still around.

“i will not let anything happen to you, I promise you. You know I have always stood by that. Try not to think on it now and just lean on me baby, im here and I am never going to leave you. Breathe with me.. come on , that's it.. in and out.” and she started to do it with you as your hands remained comfortingly and gently on you as you kept your eyes on her, intaking a breath and releasing it after holding it for a little bit, getting air back into your lungs. Making your body go back into a stable state, you and her stayed like that for what seemed forever but may have only been a half hour, hour? When it seemed like things could be okay at least for the moment, you felt her arms around your waist, her hands clasping at your hands tightly “Come on, lets stand okay, lemme get us some water.”

You nodded, afraid to speak, any moment you felt like you could cry. Not just from anger, so much anger it could rival your girlfriend but unlike her, you didn't have fangs that could sink into another's throat with enough strength to rip it out, causing the unfortunate person to choke on their own blood and die. Maybe thats what Snow deserved. You felt your hands balling into fists at the mere thought of how someone could be so heartless, without remorse or pity. It made you sick to your stomach and you had enough of those kind of feelings what with having panic attacks. Hoping the water would help as it sometimes did and should, you kept your mouth shut, not wanting to spill any contents in your stomach onto your clothes and the floor as Enobaria helped you stand.

Still feeling slightly dizzy, you almost wondered if you should say something but you urged that you dealt with this before, feeling weak and dizzy. You only ever fainted if it got really bad and always someone was there. The only times that someone wasnt was a rare occasion but any unlucky person who came upon you with dark intentions would regret it, you were so protected. A darling of District 2. As you made to follow her into the kitchen, everything went black as you fell. Unconscious to the scream as Enobaria immediately caught your fainting body in her arms, worry on her face as she gently tried to shake you awake but only receiving no answer from you.

Not wanting to immediately jump to conclusions, she held you protectively in her arms as she went about the process of getting you medical help, refusing to leave your side. For those who suggested, one glint of her fangs in the light was enough for them to hold their tongue lest they want it ripped out. While they did the work to help you, she in a corner not to far from you , paced back and forth, w a I t I n g until she saw your beautiful eyes again. When you finally did flutter your eyes open, it was after the doctor's left you both to have some privacy, telling Enobaria that the reason you had fainted was not only from a possible slip up in taking medication, dehydration and stress, they advised you get plenty of water, rest, stay active in the medications and do anything relaxing to get rid of the stress. Maybe start talking to someone, it could help get the stress off your shoulders, as they say.

Once the door closed behind them, your { e/c } eyes seemed to flutter open, your lips parting to crack , “en..” you coughed, “enobaria?” She immediately rushed to your side, sitting down beside you and taking one of your hand in both of hers. “How are you feeling? “ she ended up scoffing, “Stupid question..” she looks at you, “i'm right here.” You smiled weakly, memories of what happened flashing before your eyes and tears started to well up. Immediately sensing the change in your, she cupped your face, 'Keep calm for me babygirl, im right here. Whatever happens, it's you and me always right? As we promised.”

Your heart raced but you forced it to slow, to even out and calm yourself down. You slowly nodded, clenching your throat as you swallowed, “Forever.”, you muttered softly, lovingly, with no hesitation. “Scoot over.”, she muttered as she stood, moving to remove the blanket a little from you. You weakly tried to move, an adorable frown forming on your face as you looked up at her, “Won't they sa-” She shook her head as she lied down beside you, gently pulling you into her arms so you could cuddle into her, the blanket over both of you now, “Just them try and stop me from holding the woman I love.”, You felt butterflies in your stomach, she was always so good to you – what did you do to deserve someone like her, Enobaria, the fierce badass everyone was scared to come into contact with but realize there was another side to her. A good side so worthy of the truest of loves, something you two found together. Like a home. She caresses your face, making you look at her, as if you wouldn't choose to willingly anyway,”

“Wherever you go, I will follow if you wish and anytime you fall, I will always catch you.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you felt her arms encircle you more, holding you against her chest and your two’s legs entangling together under the blanket. Resting your head against her chest, you and her breathed together, your eyes closing shut once more and hers following suit not long after you. At some point you would be discharged to be able to go home but until then? You would find peace in the arms of the woman you loved. Everything would figure itself out one way or another. One day Snow would realize the wrongs for which he has done and pay for them accordingly. Taking one day at a time, you would make sure that you would be okay, that the ones you loved would be okay.

You would always say that you never deserved someone as fierce and dangerous as Enobaria who was sweet and romantic and cuddly deep down but truth was maybe it was the other way around with her feeling she didnt deserve you. Sometimes people didnt even approach her for the reputation she had but you weren’t like the others, You didn’t treat her like she was a monster to hold at arms length for fear of being ripped apart. You broke down all her walls and made her f e e l. She could never thank you for that, having someone as angelic as you but every rose has it’s thorns and she knew that together, you two could accomplish anything. Not just the best but the worst of times.

#warning: medical #warning: panic attacks #enobaria #the hunger games #hunger games #soft fluff #angsty sadness #one shot fic requests

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imaginedisish · 5 years

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Atlas: Touch (Five Hargreeves x Reader) (The Umbrella Academy)

A/N: HEEEYYY GUYS!!! So this is based off of a request I got today, and something I personally wanted to write. (The whole Five comforting the reader thing) The title + kinda sad nature of it all is based on Atlas: Touch by Sleeping At Last. I feel like this may be kind of a mess, but it’s honestly because today was just such a bad day. SOOOO ANYWAY, THIS IS GONNA BE A TWO PARTER!!!! YAYAYAY!!! Also, it’s a little shorter than what I normally write because of that...Soooo just be aware of that...now ENJOY!

Summary: Five comforts the reader after having a vision she really wished hadn’t seen...(Reader can see the future)

Warnings: References to murder, killing, blood, language, implied panic attack, a really terrible childhood, angst, cliffhanger (that will be resolved in part 2) FLUFF!

Word Count: 2,381

The wind is harsh and brisk, passing straight through your body as it eradicates any sense of warmth you once felt. A chill rolls down your spine, and a feeling of uneasiness fills your gut. The area around you was barren of life, save a large, vibrantly colored sycamore tree far off in the distance. Its presence made no sense, since there was no other sort of growth in the area.

It was almost dream like. You look up at the lightless night sky. Not a single star was shining. The moon was nowhere to be seen. It was dark, ominous, and strangely malevolent in sensation.

“Where the hell am I?” You ask yourself.

Then, you see a familiar shape lying under the tree.

“Five?” You call out as you begin to make your way over to him.

No answer.

“Five?” Your voice echoes back to you.

No answer again. You squint, trying to get a better look at Five. He wasn’t in his Academy uniform. He was wearing a Bowie shirt, with a flannel over it, and dark blue jeans. You walk a bit closer, and you start to see more.

In the center of his chest, you notice something dark, something staining through his shirt. In the center appears to be some sort of a hole.

Then, it hits you.

The dark stain was blood, and the hole must have been where a bullet entered Five’s chest.

Five had been shot, and you weren’t there to stop it. You were too late.

“NO!” You cry out.

You break out into a sprint, rushing over to him as fast as you possibly could. “Five!” You scream as you come closer to the great big tree. Suddenly, crows burst into flight from the branches of the tree, their shrilling squawks shaking you up a bit.

Finally, you approach Five. You kneel down by his side. Tears well up in your eyes. “F-Five?” You croak, swallowing harshly. You grab his shoulders. “F-Five, p-please. Stay with me, please!”

No answer.

You extend your index and middle finger underneath the right end of Five’s jawline, searching for a pulse. “P-please, p-please s-stay with m-me,” You stutter. You refuse to move your fingers, even though you feel absolutely nothing.

You shut your eyes tightly, and tears begin to stream down your cheeks at free will. You collapse in Five’s lap, sobbing heavily. You chant incoherently, “Wake up, wake up, wake up.” But he doesn’t. He can’t

He’s gone.

The crows that had left seconds ago return again, circling around the tree, cackling their cacophonous cries, telling the gods above that they had correctly predicted yet another death.

Then, there’s nothing by darkness. “Five!” You scream as you open your eyes, pushing yourself up in your bed. Light fills the room, but you can’t fight the overwhelming darkness you feel deep down inside.

Rain patters loudly against the window next to you as a tear slides down your cheek. You take a deep breath, but it feels like the air that once filled your room was sucked out by some sort of vacuum. The walls feel as though they are closing in. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest.

What the hell just happened? You ask yourself.

Your visions had been growing worse lately, but that specific one had taken you by surprise. Your visions never showed how something would truly happen, but they would give you some sort of intimation as to what would come to pass. Five and the rest of the Hargreeves swore to help you learn to use and control your abilities the minute they met you. They promised that with their help, you could dive deeper, and figure out more about your premonitions.

It was hard, of course, when you couldn’t stand to experience whatever it was you saw. All your life, you couldn’t stand your power. Most of your visions came on without warning, and depicted terrible, horrendous things. Worst of all, you were unable to control who’s future you saw.

Yes, being able to see the future could be a blessing at times. But, more often than not, you felt as though it was a burden. You had grown up in foster care, which had only added to your stress as a child. Not only did you deal with a power you couldn’t control, but you had no one to depend on. Your outbursts due to your premonitions caused you to move around quite a bit. Every foster parent you had deemed you “impossible,” which ruined your chances at becoming adopted. Kids bullied you from group home to group home, and you struggled to stay stable. One fateful day, when you finally felt as though you had enough, you ran away.

You planned to move to New York, and pursue music, the one thing that helped you throughout your life.

You stopped for some coffee at Griddy’s on your way out of town, and that was when you met Five. The minute he sat down next to you, you had a premonition: Five would temporarily lose his powers, causing him to be captured and tortured by The Commission.

It was often obvious to those around you when you had your premonitions, since you essentially travel to a dream world in some distant stream of you consciousness. Five immediately knew that something was wrong.

“I’m sorry, but are you alright?” He asked. You decided to take a chance on Five, and explain to him what it was you saw. There was something about him that told you he was just like you; he was a dysfuctional outcast, who simply wanted to be loved.

By the end of your conversation with Five, about what you had foreseen, as well as your powers, Five decided it would be best for you to come back to the Academy with him.

You had nowhere to go, no one to take you in. Somehow, running off with some seventeen year old boy who could move through time became your best bet.

Over the course of the last few months, you and that very same seventeen year old boy had created an unbreakable bond. Your childhood made you feel unlovable, and Five made you feel the exact opposite. Five cared about you. He was usually sarcastic and nonchalant with people. But with you, he was kind, and sweet. He made you feel like things were going to be okay, or possibly even better than okay.

Maybe things could be…good, just for once, You thought to yourself.

Most importantly, Five was the first person to ever say those eight words to you:

“I hate most people, but I love you.”

You hadn’t expected him to feel anything for you. Your whole life you felt worthless, and unwanted. But Five wanted you. He saw how incredibly special and important you were.

“I love you too,” You said back.

It was abundantly clear that you couldn’t lose Five. Not now. Not after everything you had told him, not after all of the late nights that you two had stayed up talking. You had built a relationship with him, and it was the first relationship that had ever truly mattered to you.

Suddenly, a knock at the door brings you back to reality. You look in the mirror across the room, revealing your puffy, tear filled eyes and red, soaked cheeks. You swallow harshly, frantically reaching over to the tissue box on your nightstand.

“(Y/N)?” Five calls, knocking again. “Are you okay?” You can’t speak. Everything hurts far too much. You look over to the door, and watch as the knob twists, and the door creaks open.

Five’s crystal blue eyes meet yours. He studies your face, instantly recognizes how disheveled and destroyed you look. You break down again, simply at the sight of him. You sob heavily. “I-I d-don’t kn-know what t-to d-do F-…” You choke on your words. Five rushes over to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your shivering body.

“What happened?” Five questions softly. “Did someone hurt you?” His tone immediately changes at the thought that someone did this to you. “I swear to God I’ll fucking kill whoever did this.”

“N-no o-one h-hurt m-me,” You stutter. “I-I c-can’t t-take th-this a-anymore Five, I can’t d-do this sh-shit anymore,” You say in between sobs. “I can’t fucking do this.”

Five furrows his brows, and presses a soft kiss to the side of your head. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” He whispers. “Shuuuush, it’s okay, I’m right here.” Five’s voice is soft and low. He holds you tighter, rocking you lightly back and forth. “I’ve got you now.”

You press your face into Five’s chest, sobbing heavily. You couldn’t breathe. “I-It’s n-not o-okay,” You struggled to say. Five pulls you in even tighter. “I-I saw something, F-Five. F-fuck, I-I c-can’t lose you.”

Five’s fingers gently come through your hair. “You aren’t going to lose me,” Five coos. But his words cut like a knife. Truth was, you knew you were going to. Everything felt so overwhelming. It felt like a family of elephants had sat on your chest, and your respiratory system could no longer function because of it. The walls of your room continue to close in on you and Five.

You pull apart from Five for a second, trying to catch your breath. “E-everything is too much. I c-can’t h-hande my p-powers anymore,” You cry out. “I can’t j-just be happy, for once? Things can’t just stay good, for once in my life?” You’re screaming now. “Of course all of this was too good to be true. I don’t deserve any of this! I’m nothing, and no one. I’m worthless shit!” More tears stream down your cheeks.

Pain and confusion spread across Five’s face. He inches closer to you, wrapping his arms around you yet again. You bury your face in his neck. “You are enough, (Y/N). You are more than enough. Everything anyone has ever lead you to believe about who you are, and what you’re worth, is absolute bullshit,” Five coos, his hands rubbing gently against your back. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Y-you d-don’t know that. I’m going to lose you, Five,” You sob.

“Tell me what happened,” Five whispers. “Where did all of this come from?” He asks.

You swallow harshly, preparing yourself to explain to Five what you had seen. “I-I h-had a premonition,” You pause, attempting to collect your thoughts. “Y-you, w-well y-you…” You trail off, pulling away from Five. You study his face, his piercing blue eyes, his chocolate brown hair. A single tear falls from your eye and rolls down your jawline “Y-you d-died. Y-you’re g-going t-to…” You can’t go on. Five pulls you in again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Five says, his fingers combing through your hair again. “You aren’t going to lose me. It was just a vision. For all we know, it’ll remain a vision. It might not turn into anything more.”

You sniffle. “I know what I saw. Five, s-someone i-is g-going to sh-shoot y-you.”

Five stops playing with you hair, and he has no response. Silence looms over the room. Unfortunately, your visions were more ‘accurate’ if they showed a specific cause of death, and the bullet wound in Five’s chest was a clear and specific cause of death.

“Wh-what a-are we going t-to do?” You ask, pulling away from Five. For once in his life, Five is at a loss for words. He always had some sort of response for everything. He always had some sort of answer. Sometimes, it came off as cocky, or smug, but regardless, he always knew what to do. He always had a plan.

This time, however, was different. This could very well be the end of everything.

Five swallows harshly, his ocean eyes searching yours as if it was the last time he would ever be able to see you. “I-I d-don’t know,” Five says, standing up. He begins to pace back and forth. “Do you know who k-killed me?” Five asks.

“N-no, but you were under a sycamore tree. I don’t know what was so important about that, but that was…well, that was where I f-found y-you,” You explain.

Five shakes his head. “Maybe it’s The Handler, or The Commission,” Five begins to pace faster, his steps becoming more rushed and frantic. “Are you sure it was a bullet wound? Maybe Vanya somehow escaped again? Maybe it was her?”

You simply shake your head, unable to give Five a real answer. It’s impossible for you to form coherent thoughts or sentences at a time like this. Whoever killed Five could be anyone, or anything. Maybe Vanya did escape, and maybe she found a gun. Maybe The Handler caught Five messing with time again, or found something new to blame him for. Nevertheless, everything was happening so quickly. All hell was breaking loose.

“Is there anything else you noticed about what you saw, anything that could help us?” Five questions. He stops pacing, and sits back down on the bed next to you.

“Wh-when I f-found y-you, i-it was night,” You explain, sniffling a bit. You remember what he was wearing when you found him. “You had on a Bowie shirt, and a flannel, and jeans.”

Five scratches the back of his neck anxiously. “That’s what I was going to wear today. I had the day planned for us. I was hoping you’d want to go see a showing of The Man Who Fell to Earth at that old theater downtown…” Five trials off.

Tears continue to stream down your cheeks. “Th-then t-today i-is…” You don’t have the strength to finish your sentence.

“Not if we don’t go out. Maybe we can cheat death,” Five’s eyes light up with hope.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

To Be Continued…

tags: @drawingsupernova

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terapsina · 5 years

Text

Mary’s is a Long (Island) Sad Tale

Summary:

The phone rings for a few moments and then switches to voicemail - ‘This is Kate, you know the drill.’ - Mary ends the connection and tries again.

“C’mon. C’mon Kate, please pick up.” She whispers. One ring, two rings, three rings... voicemail. For half a heartbeat she wants to just keep calling like a crazy person until Kate answers but she forces herself to take a deep breath because that would be insane. She can leave a message, like a calm and reasonable person whose mother didn’t just admit to faking a missing kid’s death. “Kate, hey, I didn’t know, you have to believe that I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, please just... just call me back, okay?

/or/

The time between Mary's mother telling her the truth about her involvement in Beth being announced dead and Mary barging into Wayne Tower. Plus a little bit of the time after.

- ao3 -

As she flinches away from her mother’s touch, bile rising in her throat, the thought that makes her spinning mind come to a screeching halt is her words about Kate. Her mom said she didn’t want Mary to hear this from her stepdad or Kate.

Which means that Kate already knows.

Her eyes skitter around the pier, avoiding the sight of her mother’s tearful face, sure that if she doesn’t she’ll throw up right there in broad daylight. She can’t be here, she has to get the hell away from this woman she’s loved all her life and thought she knew, away from the face that now feels like it belongs to a stranger.

So she does, she stumbles past her mother and then she rushes off, hands tight around her middle, trying to contain the scream that hasn’t passed her lips but is echoing through her mind anyway.

For the next few minutes all she does is hurry to put as much distance between herself and her mother as she can get.

Her mother forged the evidence that made her stepdad stop searching for Beth, which means that right now Kate absolutely loathes Mary’s mom. And that’s fine, right this moment she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to forgive her mother either.

How could the woman who taught her the difference between right and wrong have done this? And... oh god. What if Kate thinks that Mary had already known?

Halting in place Mary grabs her purse to search for her phone, - her fingers shaking so badly she almost drops it before she can unlock the screen, - after a moment she gets to her contacts and scrolls down to her sister’s name to call her.

It rings for a few moments and then switches to voicemail - ‘This is Kate, you know the drill.’ - Mary ends the connection and tries again.

Because that didn’t sound unhinged at all.

Mary looks around, glares at the group of people throwing strange looks at the crazy, crying girl and doesn’t know what to do. She can’t go back to the car, even if she gets there first it’s not like she wants to be driven home. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near her mother right now.

What she wants is to talk with her sister.

Her eyes rove around the street, searching for inspiration and land on the five star hotel on the other side of the street. It’s as good as place as any to wait for Kate to call her back. And hotels have bars.

It’s half an hour and one Tequila Sunrise later that she tries to call Kate again.

“Hey, I know you probably don’t wan’t to talk with anyone right now but can you please call me back? Mom... my mother told me what she did. I’m so sorry, Kate.” Mary says, and after spending a few minutes hopefully waiting for Kate to call her back this time, she waves over the bartender for another glass.

Usually not getting a response from Kate wouldn’t feel like this big of a deal, she’s used to it. But today she can’t help analyzing what it means, because if Kate is about to disown her stepmother then a stepsister is such convenient collateral damage.

The phone finally rings maybe ten minutes after that but before the relief has had a chance to set in she sees her mother’s face flash across the screen. In the picture her mother is smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners that make her look kind and loving and-

Mary swipes left on the red button, chest tightening with simmering anger. She finishes off her second drink in two big gulps.

She doesn’t want to hear her mother’s justifications, or her apologies, as if it’s Mary that needs to hear them. What she wants is for it to be yesterday when she’d thought that the worst thing her mother had ever done was occasionally make Mary feel like the family embarrassment.

“I can’t believe she’d do that.” She mutters into the speaker, head down on the counter. “I mean how did she even justify that to herself? I could-”

“Hey there.” Interrupts an unwelcome voice from beside her. “What’s got a girl as pretty as you so down?”

“Get lost!” She snaps at the sleazy white guy as soon as she picks up her head from the shiny wooden surface of the bar, she puts him to be at least fifteen years older than her, not that it would have changed much even if he was her own age and cute. Right now she wants to be hit on almost as much as she wants to ever again be in the same room as her mother.

The guy hisses something quietly under his breath before he leaves, Mary misses it under the smooth sounds of the piano that’s running as the background noise for the hotel bar but she can make an educated guess as to its nature.

She rolls her eyes and as soon as the guy’s gone turns her focus back on her call, only to find it’s already disconnected again.

“Shit.” She says and reaches over to finish off her glass but stops mid-reach, throwing a suspicious look at it and then the seat beside her. She hadn’t been watching the glass, and she’s still sober enough to remember to be cautious.

She pushes the half empty glass back to the bartender and asks for a Mai Tai to replace it.

“If you’re avoiding me because you think I’ll take Mom’s side you don’t know me at all. What she did was horrible and I would never ever ever ever ever- ever is such a weird word have you noticed? What was I saying?” Mary says cutting short and hiccups, it seems to jump-start her short term memory, “I’d never ever take her side. I hate her.”

It hurts to say, it hurts even to think it but it’s the only word that fits how it feels to think of the harm her mom’s done. To remember all those times when Kate would say that she knew that Beth wasn’t dead and Mary didn’t believe it, and her mom sat on the other side of the dinner table and said nothing for more than a decade.

She wipes her cheeks for what feels like the hundredth time in the past few hours, the movement making her head spin around her feet even though she’s sitting. It’s possible she might have drunk a bit too much.

Time to change her plan of attack, waiting for Kate to call her back is clearly not working. She needs a cab.

Kate’s apartment being a bust has brought her to Wayne Tower - Kate wasn’t home, not even mad would Kate have made Mary bang on her apartment door for ten minutes straight without letting her in.

So now she’s facing the world’s most stubborn security guard. Though Mary is going to get past him, because he might not know it but if there’s one thing that being raised by She Who Won’t Be Named has made her ready for, it’s elbowing her way into wherever she wants to go. And right now that’s to see Kate.

“I’m sorry Miss, I can’t let you in.” The man says rushing to catch up with her as she storms her way toward the private elevator.

“I’m here to see Kate.” She says and fends off his attempt to steer her away back toward the exit and pushes the elevator button.

“Miss Kane isn’t seeing anyone right now.”

“Well I’m not anyone and if she plans to avoid me just because Mom turned out to be the Evil Stepmother she’s got another thing coming.” She says and steps into the elevator as soon as the doors slide open, leaving the guard with the choice of either following her or physically carrying her out. He’s not going to try that second one yet though, Mary can tell. She pushes the uppermost button on the elevator, - it’s always the uppermost button, - and then she waits.

A minute later, as soon as the elevator door slides open again she rushes out, dragging along the guard who, in a last ditch effort to stop her, is now holding her by her elbow.

“Kate?! Kate!” She yells. “I need to talk to you, okay? I hate her too. Kate?”

It turning out that Kate’s been off somewhere with Alice the entire day that Mary tried desperately to get in touch with her, to make sure she wouldn’t be losing her sister in the upcoming parental divorce is so typical it’s almost funny, - if ending up curled up on the ratty couch of the clinic that’s hiding inside an abandoned building, under two musty blankets as she finishes off the last slice of pizza given to her by Kate’s associate-assistant-real-estate-person Luke, and fighting off a migraine - can be considered amusing instead of depressing.

She finishes the last bites, throws a look at the dark screen of the phone and after a moment of hesitation turns her back to it to lay down and maybe finally catch some sleep.

Who knows, maybe she’ll wake up in her own bed at home and this past day will just be a bad dream that never actually happened.

She doesn’t wake up in her own bed. She also doesn’t wake up alone. Her feet are laying across someone��s lap.

“I’m mad at you.” Mary whispers in the darkness at her visitor.

“I know.” Kate says back.”I talked to Luke.”

For a minute Mary doesn’t know what else to say so she lets the silence speak in her place. Eventually though the thing she’s been trying to get Kate to hear all day spills out. “I didn’t know what Mom had done. Not until this morning, I would have told you if I'd known.”

This time it’s Kate who doesn’t answer but she reaches over to squeeze her hand and Mary sighs in relief.

“What were you doing with Alice?” She asks, not sure if she wants to know but nothing else seems to come to her mind and the silence is turning oppressive.

“She brought me to show what happened to her after the crash.”

Mary freezes in place, her throat closing up. She’s known that story couldn’t possibly turn out to be good since Kate had said that Alice was Beth. But now whatever happened will always at least partially be her mother’s fault. Because her stepdad would have never stopped looking without the evidence of those skull fragments, and maybe they would have found her.

Maybe she really could have grown up with two sisters.

“What...” She’s terrified to ask what Kate has learned but she also needs to know. “What did happen?”

“Mary.” Kate says in a pained voice and falls silent, like the words don’t want to come, or maybe like she’s trying to protect her from them.

“Just say it.” Mary says, harsh.

“She was found by serial killer. Apparently, he wanted a playmate for his son.”

In a second Mary is off the couch and rushing for the door leading to the only working bathroom in the entire building. She gets there just in time to throw up those slices of pizza and numerous cocktails. By the time Kate follows her into the bathroom and belatedly turns on the light she’s still dry heaving over the toilet seat, tears running over her cheeks. It doesn’t help, she’s still sick to her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Kate.” Mary says and looks up to her.

Kate looks like the world has broken to pieces under her feet, like an earthquake has ruptured something vital and all the light has been leaked out of her. The closest Mary’s ever seen Kate looking to this was five years ago when Sophie broke Kate’s heart. But even then she didn’t look as hopeless as she does right now, back then she had that anger that managed to carry her out of the city. Now even that seems absent.

It’s enough to make Mary bring herself together. She gets up, quickly washes out her mouth and then steers Kate back to the room they came from.

Once they’re back to sitting though, this time with one of the blankets around Kate’s shoulders, Mary’s at a loss again.

What can she possibly say to make Kate feel better? She doesn’t even know how to make herself feel better.

The silence between them grows again.

Eventually it’s Kate herself who breaks it.

“You don’t have to kill anyone to get me to talk to you, you know.” Kate says, the sound tired but with just enough of a hint of real humor to make Mary think Kate will be okay. Eventually.

Then her words register and Mary’s eyes narrow. “How much exactly did Luke tell you about my visit to the Wayne Tower?”

“That was about it. He told me you’d tried to find me, found out I was with Alice and then said that when you left. He was quite insistent I should talk to you though. Why?” Mary sees Kate side-eyeing her thoughtfully with a twist to her lips and a raised eyebrow.

Mary doesn’t blink. She knows that look on Kate too, it’s a curious look. It’s a look that means Mary needs to go back to Luke the first thing tomorrow morning and either swear or threaten him into keeping his silence.

First though she needs to distract Kate and she’s got the perfect thing too. She’s been thinking about it for a bit now, though she’s pretty sure she wouldn’t have gotten up the courage to actually mention it without the added incentive of making sure Kate never hears about the things Mary had said today while upset.

“Hey, Kate?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I go live at your place for a bit? I don’t think I can stay in the same building as Mom right now and I... I don’t actually have anywhere else to go.” The words rush out of her so fast she’s not sure how she’d kept them in until now.

Mary looks up, uncertain, and finds Kate looking somewhere over Mary’s shoulder but after a moment she focuses on her and nods.

“Okay.” Kate says. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

And that seems to be all that Mary needed to be pushed over the edge because she immediately bursts into tears. Except this time she finds Kate bringing her into her arms, starting to rock her in place as she runs soothing circles over her back.

“I’m sorry.” Mary says and then repeats it, again and again, like she’ can’t stop. She’s so sorry. She’s sorry her mom did this, she’s sorry about what happened to Beth, she’s sorry she can’t be the sister Kate actually wants.

“It’s alright, Mary. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”

#mary hamilton #kate kane #batwoman #batwoman fic #hamilton kane sisters #fanfic

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kitty-chan17985 · 5 years

Text

Again. It just had to happen again, didn’t it?

She already lost him years ago when he went back to the restaurant in a fit of rage, not thinking about what consequences would come to him, only wanting to take it out on the machines that once brought children and even adults so much joy. Not thinking about his wife, his five-year-old daughter, his sons, his oldest son’s partner...none of them. None of them were in any part of his thinking process as he destroyed the machines, setting their souls free...hiding away, he thought he could escape, not knowing that his already greatly emotionally damaged wife, still recovering from brain trauma from Foxy’s bite years prior, had followed him there, only to watch him be torn apart from the inside from the same incident that permanently scarred and damaged him for the rest of his life.

She was still recovering from the sight when she found work at the horror attraction. Years of silence on her end as she could never talk to anyone about her late husband, not even her therapist, not even her own son or his partner, not even her own daughter, brought her there. She’d been advised against it by Michael’s partner, who had still been recovering from the disappearance of his husband at the time. Still, she went anyway. She still remembers how William acted so much differently; driven mad by obsession, left as nothing more than emotions left behind by his monstrous side...she still remembers how it felt when two boards fell on her, breaking half of her ribs, nearly shattering her spine, breaking one of her arms and her nose, how it stung to not even be able to see her husband before she was yanked out of the destruction and fell unconscious for a week. She was hardly able to recover, hardly able to do anything, before Michael was scooped, before he went to work at the new place. She remembers running in there, having a brief heart-to-heart with a very dead but somehow walking and talking Mike about her being there being dangerous before being taken out, only to be confronted by her daughter after she found out about what her father was truly like. Of course, Skylar had insisted that Penny not push it, considering their mother’s sensitivities.

Then...it all burned. Again.

Letting the remaining kids mourn for a bit with each other, the completely emotionally ravaged woman wails into her pillow, letting out nearly two and a half decades worth of tears as she digs her nails into it. By now most of her face is wet, the room seeming even more glum than before. She never let herself sleep anywhere but their room...she was always so protective, selective over who came in and who didn’t. She only ever allowed the kids to come in, but anyone else received frantic screams to “just go away”. While the still living children try to find a way to calm their shattered mother down (with scoldings from the older brother, insisting that they not ask anything more about William’s past until their mother is okay), she pushes herself up and away from her pillow, her chest aching from the remaining soreness in her ribs and heartache she never knew could be so deeply painful. She curls up on the bed, her even longer brown hair an absolute mess, her eyes red and puffy from sobbing, her nose red from sniffling, her face pink from so much stress. She pulls her legs in tighter, her hands reaching under her mess of tangled locks. She had put on her usual yellow sweater, a white skirt, pink stockings, a pair of white flats, and her blue butterfly hairpin...the outfit she wore when they first got together...the first time she felt okay, the first time she felt truly happy and satisfied with life in years. She sobs as her throat had gone raw from wailing and screaming. She can’t stop the tears anymore. She’s been crying for over forty-five minutes and she hasn’t stopped...at this rate, she’ll be too dehydrated to eat anything. It’s not like she’s been especially good about eating since William died anyway.

She opens her previously squeezed shut eyes as she shakes violently, gripping at her cross and rings tightly. She falls quiet for a moment, thinking that maybe she’s finally done...but another burst of emotion runs through her as tears run down again. Throwing herself back down onto the bed, she pulls the covers up over herself, unable to handle the amount of grief she’s having to let out. She’s never cried this much...not since the incident with Fredbear, not since she woke up from that coma, not even since William died. She’s crying harder than she’s ever cried before, and she isn’t sure exactly why.

Why does grief hit her so hard specifically?

She winces and coughs as she keeps a grip on the covers with one hand, the other arm still stuck in a cast, unable to help the searing pain that goes through her sides now, a harsh reminder of this horror story’s beginning. She tries to settle herself down enough to stop crying, but she can’t now. Nothing can keep her from relentlessly sobbing, no matter how much she wants to stop. She feels a chill centre itself on her uninjured arm’s shoulder, her hand moving to it as she forces herself to sit up. That chill then centres itself on her hand, which she tries to think nothing of for now. She felt a similar chill when she went to the horror attraction, a similar chill when William died...a similar chill when she went to the now burned down restaurant. She sniffles as she lowers her head, her hair covering most of her face as she tries to settle her breathing.

“It’s okay, love...I’m right here,” an all too familiar voice sounds from behind her, startling her a bit. She gasps softly, wincing before looking behind her...only to find someone she ever expected to be there. A much younger looking version of her late husband, looking down at her, smiling at her. A see through copy with shorter hair, the old rectangle glasses he wore so long ago, still retaining the scars from the first springlock incident from so many decades ago, his once silvery blue eyes back to a much more vibrant blue colour, though still slightly greyed.

The hazel-eyed widow can’t help but go wide eyed from shock, the spectre still smiling at her as a see through hand rests itself on her cheek. She feels like her heart stops as she feels the chill move to the same cheek, staring in disbelief. She thought she had run dry of tears, but an even bigger stream of tears runs down her already tearstained face, her eyes narrowing as she tries to wipe the tears away, not wanting to lose sight of him. How...? Is...is his spirit still trapped here? If so...why is he so much younger?

“My, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he jokes, giving her a slightly concerned smile as she reaches up to where she feels his hand is, though her hand goes right through it. She sniffles a bit as she slowly works up the ability to speak.

“...h...h-how...a-are you still...t-t-trapped here...?” she asks. God, she sounds so pitiful. She sounds like a terrified child. His hand moves away from her cheek briefly, much to her displeasure as she tries to grab at it, forgetting that she can’t touch him. He moves to sit next to her on the bed without phasing through it.

“You don’t need to be worried about that, love,” he replies. “I’m not trapped so much as I am...wanting to stick around a while longer,” he explains simply as she bites at her lip, trying to keep tears from flowing so much, not wanting the sight of him to leave her. She doesn’t want him to disappear ever again...she doesn’t want him to leave. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it wasn’t fair to him to have her want to stay with her even after he’s been laid to rest, finally at peace with himself...but can one blame her?

“I...I-I’m so sorry, W-W-William...” she whimpers, her breathing shaky as she covers her eyes with one hand. “I-I’m so sorry...I-I-I...I-I wanted to h-help you...I-I-I wanted to keep y-you away from F-Freddy’s after you and H-Henry c-c-closed it down, I...I-I knew you’d...you’d go back, a-and...i-if I had just gotten th-there sooner, I–”

“Angel, please...stop blaming yourself. I went back because I was furious. I went back because I wanted to vent my anger. I wasn’t thinking about you, Penny, Skylar, or Michael...it’s not your fault I made a selfish choice,” he argues, though he keeps his tone calm as he rests a hand on hers. “I don’t hold any of it against you. There’s nothing you could have done in that instance. Even if there was...in all honesty, what happened there was deserved. I know you’ll disagree with me–”

“Y-you never deserved th-that...”

“–but I assure you, it was necessary. The suit became my prison, and for the longest time I turned into nothing but the monster I had become. But when you came back...something in me found clarity. The recent fire at the now destroyed Freddy’s...it freed me, it freed Michael, it freed Charlie, it freed my Elizabeth. The real versions of all of us finally have closure...and the monster that started all of this is finally where he deserves to be,” he says, his brow furrowing. “He is now in purgatory, but...I’m still here,” he finishes, smiling at her again. “I wanted to at least say a proper goodbye to the wonderful woman that showed me how to be me again,” he adds, cupping her cheek once more, planting a chilled kiss to her lips.

“D...d-does...d-does that mean...y-you’re leaving me soon...?” she asks, a pained look on her face as she asks that. She sniffles a bit, squeezing her eyes shut. “P-please...f-for as long as y-y-you’re comfortable w-with it...j-just...stay with me...” she begs quietly, whimpering softly. “I-I’ve...recently f-f-found that...A-Alzheimer’s runs in m-my family, and...I-I-I’m terrified that...in the n-next twenty or so y-years, I...I-I’ll forget everyone...I-I don’t want to...I-I-I never want to f-f-forget you, o-or Penny, or...or Skylar, o-or Michael...” she cries, her chest heaving as she starts to break down again. “P-p-please, just...s-stay...e-even if you can’t f-for long, I just...I-I never want to f-forget you...” she whimpers, her voice breaking as she squeezes her eyes shut. She feels the chill suddenly wrap around her, causing her to look up. His spectre wraps his arms around her for a hug as she moves to wrap an arm around him, though it’s more like her having to hold an arm up in an awkward place. She feels like she’s just hugging air, but she knows he’s there.

“I’ll be here for as long as you need me...but please, try to take care of yourself. And...be kinder to yourself. You’ve held a grudge against yourself for so many years. It’s time you let it go...”

She can hardly muster a response, just staying in place as he holds onto her. How he can hold her, she’ll never know, but she isn’t going to complain. Even if she can’t touch him, she’s glad he can still touch physical things...she’s needed this closure, or at least a goodbye. She never wants to lose him again. She knows he can’t stay forever, but she hopes he can pop in every so often...not just for her own sanity, but she’s sure he’d want to see his little girl again. For the first time in a little over two decades, she feels...okay.

“Don’t worry about me, love. I’m here.”

“I-I-I love you, W-William...dead or alive...”

“I love you too, Angel, so much more than you know.”

#nefarious-inventor #drabble #Angel #Angel Ferguson #William Afton #FNAF #Five Nights at Freddy’s

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lets-imagine-danganronpa · 6 years

Text

Do Robots Believe In Ghosts?

Things have gotten quiet around here, so I’ll be posting a Kiibouma story I did with @crybabysapphire on here. If it has conflicting writing styles, that’s because it was a RP. Enjoy!

"Kiibo~ I need someone to go in this haunted house with me, and you're coming with me. Kay?" Kokichi said as it wasn't really an option.

"O-ok...?" Kiibo sounded really confused. "What for?" Kiibo wondered what his boyfriend did NOW.

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell..." Kokichi drawled out. "I may have lost a bet with Kaito and now he wants me to go into a haunted house with a camera." The smaller boy clinged to Kiibo's arm. "And I need you to hold the camera for me."

"Kokichi!" Kiibo scolded. "I thought I told you not to make bets anymore!" Kiibo sighed and shook his head. "But I will hold the camera... Just don't wander off. The building could be very unstable."

"Nishishi~ Okei Dokie Kiiboy!~ You can always cling to me if you get scared." Kokichi said with a wink.

“Do not mock me!”

"Sorry..." Kokichi muttered loud enough to be heard. "Now let's go!" He exclaimed as he began to tug Kiibo's arm in the direction of the haunted house.

*timeskip*

The house was abandoned. Cobwebs littered the outside, and the wood was rotting. "I wanna go home..." Kiibo muttered. "This is a horrendous idea..."

"Well I don't!" Kokichi lied, he really wanted to go home and forget about the already creepy scenery. "Now come on, let's get this over with." He said with what little bravery he had.

"R-right!" Kiibo walked over to the old door and opened it slowly. It was pitch black inside. "I've put the camera on flash so we have a light..." Kiibo walked a few steps inside, his robotic heart pounding.

"W-well, get to it!" Kokichi demanded, his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. "Here. You can hold onto my hand so that way you don't get lost." Kokichi said as he outstretched his hand. He thought that if he held his boyfriend's hand, it would help calm his nerves. Kiibo sighed and grabbed his lovers hand. "Let's go." They walked further into the house, with Kiibo noting the damaged structure and dusty photos.

"I wonder what happened to the people who lived inside this house?" Kiibo mused.

"I heard that one of them went crazy and killed everyone in their family. Some say their spirits still haunt this house to this day, looking for revenge." Kokichi stated, remembering the story Kaito told him about the place. "But that's just one story, no one really knows what happened..." He finished the story.

"Ghosts don't exist!" Kiibo protested. He was about to go into a rant when he heard a sound. ".....Did you hear something?"

Kokichi jumped slightly. "M-m-maybe it was the wind?"

"Shh! Be quiet!" The sound was much louder this time. Kokichi froze in fear, clinging to Kiibo's arm like his life depended on it.

"...Let's go check that noise out." Kiibo started moving towards the source, which seemed to be in the dining hall area.

"This is how people get killed in the movies Kiibo..." Kokichi muttered but followed Kiibo nonetheless.

"This place is abandoned, don't worry!" Kiibo puffed out with confidence. "I'm sure it's just part of the building collapsing!"

"Yeah. That's probably it." Kokichi said, gaining some confidence. "It was probably nothing. But I wanna make sure."

Suddenly, the noise went from a faint rumble to a... child's laughter? Kiibo froze on the spot. "A child... in here? Oh no, they must be in shock!" Kiibo tensed up, about to take off.

Kokichi grabbed Kiibo's arm. "H-Hey! At least wait for me!"

Kiibo heeded no attention and took off, leaving Kokichi in the darkness. "Do not worry, little one! K1-B0, the Ultimate Robot, is here to help!"

Kokichi ran after the robot, feeling a little upset that Kiibo didn't pay attention to him. But he knew how impulsive Kiibo got.Kiibo's voice can be heard in the dining hall yelling in shock.

"W-what?! This cannot be!"

Kokichi finally made it to the dining hall, he placed his hand on the door frame to support him while he started to pant heavily. "K-Kiibo... You need to wait for me..." He didn't even look up.

"I'm sorry, but that's not the issue!" Kiibo's eyes looked fearfully around the hall. "There's no one here!”

Kokichi looked up and was immediately filled with dread. The dinning room really was empty, it was full of dust and nowhere stable enough to hide a speaker. "Th-then... Where did that voice come from?"

Kiibo shook his head. "I don't know! There has to be an explanation for this-" Kiibo suddenly broke up, looking at something behind Kokichi. "K-Kokichi... Whatever you do, DO NOT move."

Kokichi froze in place, fear keeping him in place. Kiibo saw the outline of a little girl, her body covered in stab wounds. "I found the source..... You may not like what it is, though."

Kokichi began shaking slightly. "Wh-what is it?" He wanted to run to Kiibo and hold onto him, but his body wouldn't move.

"Honestly, I didn't think ghosts existed, but I was just proven wrong."

Kokichi paled and ran to Kiibo in a flash. "What-what the hell?!" He exclaimed in shock.

Kiibo seemed to be stunned. "This is crazy... None of this is real....." He started to shake. "We still need to explore the rest of the house! We were probably just hear and seeing things that weren't there."

Kokichi clinged to Kiibo, but refused to let any tears fall. The camera was still on after all. Yeah. That's the reason. "O-Okay, just don't run off like that again." Kokichi whispered. "I need you with me..."

"I understand." Kiibo whispered back. Kokichi didn't want to leave the comforting hug, but he had to if he wanted to continue with the dare.

"L-let's go check out some of the other rooms..."

Kiibo nodded and pulled away. "There seems to be a second floor in this house."

"Let's hope it doesn't collapse on us..."

Kiibo grabbed Kokichi's hand again and walked up the stairwell to the second floor. The creaking sound was unsettling to Kokichi.

"S-so... Which room should we check out first... The left or right hallway?" he asked.

"The left. There seems to be a noise similar to someone tapping a wall in one of the left rooms. I want to investigate what is causing that sound." Kiibo responded, pointing towards one of the several rooms.

"You are insane..." Kokichi said as he headed to the room making the noise.

"That's robophobic!" Kiibo hissed as they stopped in front of the room.

"This is where the sound is coming from. We will NOT enter the room. We will just open the door so we can see inside." Kiibo twisted the knob and slowly cracked open the door so they could just see almost 3/4 of the room.

"It's not Robophobic, it's a fact." Kokichi muttered. He looked around the room, but didn't see anything suspicious, which unsettled him.

"Hmm...That's odd... Should we go in there after all?" Kiibo wondered.

Kokichi took a deep breath already regretting his answer. "Yeah... What's the worst that could happen?"

A lot... A lot a bad things could happen, but he didn't voice it. Kiibo nodded in agreement and thumped into the room along with his boyfriend. The instant they were in the room, the door slammed shut, causing Kiibo to drop the camera in shock.

"AH!"

Kokichi jumped and clinged to Kiibo before heading to the door to try to open it up. "I-it's locked!"

"W-what you'd say?" Kiibo thought he was on the verge of crashing at this point.

"I said it's locked, Kiibo." Kokichi took a moment to observe the door. "WHAT THE HECK???" he exclaimed in disbelief. Kiibo looked at him with fear and confusion.

“W-what is it...?”

"THERE ISN'T EVEN A LOCK ON THIS DOOR!"

Kiibo lost it at that moment. He started babbling out random strings of letters. His neck visor started flashing with numbers. Kokichi’s eyes widen with shock.

"Kiibo, listen, I love you, but you got to pull yourself together." Kokichi said placing a hand on Kiibo's shoulder. "We will get out of here... We just have to be creative." Kokichi wanted to curl up and cry, but he had to put on a brave face for his boyfriend.

Kiibo almost snapped out of it. He tried to calm down. But it was just too much for his AI to handle. And he promptly crashed.

"Kiibo? Kiibo!" Kokichi called, shaking his boyfriend. "Pl-please don't leave me... Not right now..." He felt himself have a panic attack, a strange feeling that the walls were closing in on him didn't help.

Kiibo seemed to be rebooting. "S Y S T E M R E B O O T I N G. W I L L G O B A C K O N L I N E I N 1 2 H O U R S"

Kokichi was already curled into a ball, crying out of fear. He couldn't wait that long, it would be too scary.

"Please... Hurry..." he whispered. Eerie voices could be heard approaching the room.

Kiibo was still knocked out. Kokichi was still curled into a ball. He wanted to scream and tell them to go away, but he didn't want to be found by the voice. He didn't want Kiibo to wake up to see him dead.

Kiibo twitched. He went back online for a couple minutes. He grabbed Kokichi's hand and squeezed it. "I'll protect you....." he murmured.

Kokichi looked up to see Kiibo and immediately tackled him in a hug. "Kiibo... I'm scared..." he whispered.

"I know..." Kiibo squeezed his boyfriend tightly. "I am too.......... Just get some rest, ok?" Kiibo went back offline.

Kokichi took some deep breaths and closed his eyes, holding the unconscious robot as he tried to get some rest.

The voices were in the room now. They whispered death threats and torture plots. Then they knocked Kokichi out cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kokichi woke up first. "Mmnmn... What the hell? Why... Why is it so dark out?And why are we outside?" Kokichi looked around and saw Kiibo. "Kiibo! Are you okay?"

Kiibo started twitching slightly at Kokichi's voice.

"Kiibo! Please wake up!"

Kiibo opened his eyes slowly. “K..Kokichi...?”

"Kiibo!" Kokichi tackle hugged him. "Oh thank god you're safe!"

"I'm more concerned about YOU." Kiibo hugged back gently. "Are you hurt?"

Kokichi shrugged. "Other than a huge bump on the back of my head and a few scrapes, I'm fine." He snuggled closer to Kiibo heavily relieved to see his boyfriend safe. "Wait... Where's the camera?"

Kiibo held it up. "It's right here. Strange that the ghosts didn't dispose of it..."

"Maybe they just don't show up on camera. Or they don't know what cameras are. Or both... That'd suck." Kokichi sighed. "I'm just glad you're awake and well."

Kiibo smiled and turned on the camera feed. "Let's see if we captured any ghosts on camera."

"I hope not... I don't wanna relive that experience..." Kokichi muttered but looked at the video anyway.

Kiibo yelped at one point. "Look!" he pointed at the screen.

Kokichi leaned forward. What he saw was the whole ghost family as the door was opened to kick them out. "Ho... Ly... Shit..."

Kiibo watched in shock as the family grabbed the two boys and hurled them outta the house in one go. The camera went black. Kokichi was in stunned silence.

"This never leaves this house..."

"Hmm?"

"We will never tell anyone about this ever..."

"Why not?"

"If we tell anyone, the word would get out to Korekiyo, then out to Kaito, who will freak out, and then with the evidence of this video tape, then everyone will want to see the ghost for themselves. And if everyone comes to see these ghosts, they'll never get any rest and become more hateful to humans."

"O-oh... Should we dispose of the camera then......?" Kiibo asked with a shake in his voice.

Kokichi paused. "No... Let's just make a phoney video of just static. That'd be convincing enough."

"I’ll simply edit the video so it looks like static.”

"See you in my nightmares, ghost family..." Kokichi said as he witnessed the static video. "Unless..." Kokichi muttered.

"Unless what?"

"Well... It's a dumb idea... But it would be a semi permanent solution for the ghosts in the house..." Kokichi started speaking.

"What if we bought the house when we're older... That way no one will trespass and the ghosts would only have to deal with us..."

"Hmm........... That seems like a logical choice." Kiibo nodded. "But in any case, let's get a ride home. You must be tired."

Kokichi let out a yawn. "Alright, but only if you cuddle me in bed."

“Of course!” Kiibo would never refuse an offer like that.

The couple stayed to their word and never told anyone about what had happened that fateful night. They hoped that no one else would bother the ghostly members of the place so they could finally get some rest.

Key word is “Hoped.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shuichi and Kaede stuck closely to each other as they walked towards the room on the left of the second floor.

“T-this is where that sound was coming from....” Shuichi breathed out as he opened the door to the room. He took some shakey glances around. “I don’t see anything.. Let’s go inside to investigate further.”

Kaede nodded fearfully and followed the detective inside.

The door slammed shut behind them.

They woke up outside with headaches not long afterwards.

#kiibouma #mod kaede #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma #oma kokichi #Kaito Momata #Kiibo #keebo #Danganronpa V3 #danganronpa #Shuichi Saihara #Kaede Akamatsu #saimatsu

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hammytegnar · 5 years

Text

Final Call

TW: d e a t h

Prepare to be sadness?

John

I woke up, chained to a post in what seemed to be some sort of room. The few memories I had of the previous night came flooding in. I was at a local bar with my fiancé, Alexander. Alex had left to use the bathroom when a tall, slim man approached me. He began to flirt with me, telling me to follow him. I declined, but he continued to pester me about it. I told him to leave, then feeling something poke my arm. Everything went black.

Now I'm here, chained up to something with some sort of tape covering my mouth. "Ah, so you're finally awake," the same man from last night said, approaching me. I noticed the gun in his hand, eyes widening and attempting to get away. "You can't get rid of me that easily, John, was it?" I nodded slowly, slightly shaking from fear. "Well John, sorry to say but you won't be on this earth much longer." My eyes widened and my face paled. As he walked closer, I attempted to scream, coming out more muffed due to the tape. He laughed slightly, still walking closer. "However, you can make one final call, can't be the police though, as you'd die immediately. So, who'll it be?" He handed me a phone, not being able to reach for it due to the chains. He ripped the tape off my mouth, immediately replacing it with his hand. "Scream, you're dead, try to fight back," he held up the gun, "you're dead." The chains were separated just enough to hold the phone. "Well, you have 30 minutes to make your call, after that, goodbye forever." He left the room. There was a one way mirror, evidently, so he could monitor my call.

I dialed the number into the phone, being answered quickly after two calls. "Hello?" He said.

"H-hi Lex..." my voice was raspy from the screaming.

"John! Where are you? Where'd you go while I was in the bathroom? Oh, you had me so worried. Are you on your way home?" He had worry lacing his voice heavily.

"I— no, I-I won't be c-coming home..."

"W-what do you mean?" He sounded like he was on the verge of tears, while the waterworks had already started on my end.

"This i-is my l-last call, Alexander. I- he's going to..."

"To w-hat?" His voice cracked.

"He... a gun... this is the last call I c-can ever m-make, h-he's gonna k-kill me, Lex. I h-have half an hour left, please u-understand, I'm scared." I could hear him sobbing on the other end, making more tears spill from me. "I l-love you, Alexander. P-please make this last call c-count?"

"I love you so much, John. D-do you know w-who t-took you?"

"L-last night, h-he said his n-name was... Francis, K-kinloch, I th-think. But there's nothing y-you can do, please just m-make this c-count."

"John..."

"Please?"

"O-okay... I l-love you John, please don't leave me you're all that's right about this broken world, John I n-need you! I can't live w-without you..."

"For the time I have left, c-can we think of happy memories?"

"Of c-course, love. Um... h-how about, the proposal?"

"Heh, y-yeah... you could barely get the 'yes' out, w-we we're both crying... I love you, I wish it d-didn't have to e-end this way."

"John, p-please, I n-need you home... I— it's getting worse, the depression... and I don't think I'd be able to go on without you, please j-just come home alive, J-John..."

"I want to... but I-I'm chained up, and h-he'll kill me if I call the police, cherish the last time I have..."

"John," He began sobbing uncontrollably, barely being able to utter a word, "h-how ab-bout that t-time we c-confessed s-sen-ior year? W-we were playing..."

"Apocalypse of the D-Damned, right? A-and you suddenly p-paused the game... t-turning to me... heh, you l-looked so sc-ared."

"I w-was... John, i-imagine if th-that didn't h-ha-happened? W-where'd we be... I knew w-we shouldn't h-have gone t-to that b-bar, we'd both be h-home t-together, I r-recommended it, J-John, it's all my fault! I-I-I shouldn't have left you-"

"Alex t-try to calm down, it's not your f-fault, I'm still alive f-for now, please calm d-down."

"You got 5 minutes, hurry it up," Francis called from outside.

"I-I have f-f-five minutes Lex..." I began to panic, even more tears falling. "N-no! I'm not r-ready to d-d-die, Lex, please please no!" We we're both now sobbing like there's no tomorrow, which there wasn't for me.

"John, I love you, d-don't leave me..."

"I don't want to... these chains! Alexander, help me... I— no, you c-can't I'll die s-s-sooner if you do anything, just wait here w-with me..."

"I w-will... just stay alive, I n-need to see your b-beautiful face o-once more... happy m-memories?"

"H-how about... our one y-year anniversary? We w-went out... to s-some fancy restaurant...we w-went for a long lovely walk i-in the park... that's when I knew for sure I love y-you..." I chuckled sadly, "we d-didn't get much sleep th-that night."

"One minute!" He called from outside the small room.

Alexander seemed to have heard that. "J-John... you d-don't deserve this..."

"N-neither do you, Alex. I w-wish I could stay longer, I don't want to leave you."

We continued to share a few more memories until the door opened. "N-no, not yet, no no no!" I whisper-yelled.

"W-what? No John, stay alive!"

"5" he counted down.

"Tell all our friends I said goodbye, and I love them all in the most platonic way-"

"4" he began to draw his gun.

"Tell my parents I love them-"

"3" he held out the gun.

"I love you more than anything else in this world-"

"John n-no!" Alexander was sobbing uncontrollably along with me.

"2" he pointed it to my head.

"I love you so, so much. Take care of yourself-"

"1"

"I'll see you on the other side, my love. Raise a glass to freedom-"

He pulled the trigger, a bullet entering my skull. I dropped the phone. The last thing I heard was Alex screaming my name, bawling loudly. Everything went black.

Alex

I could hear the gunshot through the phone. I was sobbing even harder than before. "JOHN!" I heard the phone drop to the ground. "NO!" The heavy breathing stopped. Footsteps faded as I heard the door shut. There was no sound. The world had stopped. My world was gone. I was frozen to my seat. The world turned upside down.

I didn't sleep that night.

Or the next.

I had barely moved until I heard my door being opened. "Alex?" It was Eliza, my best friend. I still didn't move. "John?" Just the mention of his name made me break down crying. "Alexander are you alright? Is that you?" She walked into my room, eyes widening at my horrible state. "Alex! What happened? Where's John?"

"G-gone," I muttered between sobs.

"What? Did you break up or something?"

"N-no... he—" I paused, a broken sob escaping my mouth. She sat down next to me, attempting to soothe me by rubbing circles into my back. "H-he's d-d-dead... he was murdered, Eliza! Kidnapped and m-murdered, I can't, he— he's my world, I'm empty I have nothing left..."

She engulfed me in a warm hug in attempt to calm me. She was now crying too. I clutched onto her, sobbing into her shoulder. Her cardigan's shoulder was now wet from tears, but she didn't seem to mind as my shirt also had tear stains.

Eliza came over everyday to check on me. She had apparently told the others, them coming with her one day. I felt like such a burden. She doesn't really care, does she? I had begun to cut again, after being clean for a few years. John helped me cope, but now he's gone. No one else could do what he did. I no longer had a will to live. Sure I cared for others, but there was no emotion left.

Nothing.

No one.

...No more suffering.

I took my depression pills from the bathroom cabinet and went back to my desk with them. I wrote a note for the closest people in my life. The longest one being for Eliza, as she was my best friend. I put them in a neat pile on my desk. I took the glass of water from my desk, emptying pills into my hand. "Raise a glass to freedom..." I swallowed about 10 pills before the world went black and I dropped to the floor. It's only a matter of time, John. It won't be long now.

Eliza

I was heading back to Alex's apartment to check on him again. When I got there, it was oddly quiet. "Alexander?" I walked into his room, noticing a pile of papers. He writing again at least. I walked further in, shocked at the sight. He was blocked by the bed, therefore not seeing him initially. But there he was, Alexander lying on the floor. He looked too pale. I panicked and checked for a pulse. When I felt nothing, I screamed. I noticed the pill bottle in his hand and the shattered glass of water. I started crying uncontrollably. No he can't be dead! "ALEXANDER! WAKE UP! NO, NO NO!" I was panicking even more. I called my girlfriend, Maria. I was hyperventilating.

"Liza? You okay?"

"N-no, Mari, Alex, he-he— dead, p-please come, now!"

"I'm on my w-way."

5 minutes later, she bursted through the door, Laf, Herc and Peggy following closely behind. I was clutching Alexander's lifeless hand while sobbing on the floor. They engulfed me in a hug, all crying. We eventually read the notes, barely being able to finish them.

A week later, we held a funeral for both John and Alex. John was never found. I visited them every week. As Alexander said in his final sentence,"Take your time, I'll see you on the other side"

Alexander and John reunited in the afterlife, staying by each other's sides even then. They were happy again. The others were eventually able to move on, growing old before meeting Alex and John again.

~Fin~

1825 words

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yoosungimagines · 6 years

Note

Omg I'm so glad you made this tumblr! Uuuuh. I've got a request: imagine Yoosung finding out that the MC is a few years older than him (either before they have even met and he's developing feelings or when they're already a couple)? Hope it's not too much I'm asking for ;-;

took way too long to finish I’m sorry!! This is fairly long cause well, oops? i’m dramatic haha

also i made it so they’ve met but they’re not a couple i’m sorry if that’s not what you want aaaaa

this is actual trash i’m sorry

Rating: PG13

“Say, Seven, I’m not what they call a…”

Your voice was sheepish as you spoke into the phone, your eyes resolutely trained onto the ceiling and away from Seven’s picture displayed on your phone. There was an expression of defeat mixed with pure embarrassment on your face and your grimace would’ve made for a fun blackmail picture for the redhead.

“A what?”, he drawls teasingly, and you can practically feel the mischievous smirk on his stupid face. “Spit it out ______. I won’t know what you’re trying to say until you say it clearly.”

You wanted to slap him, but alas, his cheek was too far from the palm of your hand. “A-A,” you take a deep breath. Your next words come out in a high-pitched squeak, your fingers clenching around the fabric of your shirt. “A c-cougar!” Your eyes squeeze tightly and your hands fly up to cover your reddened face, a loud stuttering groan of embarrassment leaving your lips.

Seven’s hysterical laughter fills the room, making your ears bleed; you knew putting him on speakerphone was a bad idea! “Oh my god!”, he spits through his giggles. “I can’t believe- haha! A-A cougar- HAHAHA!” You groan again and the urge to hide yourself under the sheets have never been stronger.

“Shut up Seven!”, you cry, his laughs growing in volume at the sound of your suffering. After what feels like forever, his laughter slowly starts to subside, but you can still hear his small giggles between his panting breaths.

“Wh-Why do you ask? What makes you think you’re a c-cou-”, he snorts and you can hear a loud BANG. “C-Cougar-HAHA!” You roll your eyes in exasperation and you consider hanging up on the redhead. He obviously isn’t much help now. Laughing at you isn’t going to do anything for your crippling sanity.

“If you’d just stop laughing, I’d actually tell you.”

“O-Okay, okay, lemme just,” he pants, chuckling under his breath. “Calm myself down… Hooooo~ I can’t breathe.”

“I wish you’d stop breathing.”, you mutter bitterly and he snorts again.

“So cruel ______! I thought we were friends!”, his dramatic yell does nothing but annoy you even further and you tell him so, resulting in another heartbreaking shout.

“Seriously Seven, am I one or not?” His pondering hum makes you nervous and you pull the fabric of your bedsheets taut between your fingers. “You’re gonna have to explain to me why you think you’re a cougar first ______,” he says. Your mouth twists, displeased. “Because personally, I haven’t seen you do anything ‘cougar-like’ in the chatroom.”

You muster up the loudest, most tired sounding sigh you could make and you hear him chortle in amusement. “My friends joke around a lot. About me being a cougar and all,” you explain reluctantly, letting the silk in your grasp fall from your fingers. You instead pick at the stitches in your shirt, a worried lilt in your voice as you speak. “You know how I’m one of the oldest members in the RFA? I told my friends that and well, yeah…” The way your voice trails off is suspicious to say the least, as if you were hiding something from Seven.

“That still doesn’t explain why they think you’re a cougar. You do know what that word means, don’t you? It means to be sexually interested in younger men,” he rattles off, so casually that you wonder if anything can embarrass Seven. Then, his voice turns into something mischievous. “So? Who’s the lucky guy?”

Your flustered sputtering confirms his accusation. Mortified, you turn your body and bury your face into a pillow, your shrill screaming muffled. “______?”, you hear. “______, c’mon it’s not bad to be interested in someone younger than you. And knowing you, you’re probably not interested in just sex, right?” You squeal at the lewd word, pulling another chuckle from him.

Eventually, you turn your head away from the pillow, inhaling to calm your nerves. “Yoosung…”, you breathe out.

“What about Yoosung?”

“Th-The guy I’m interested in… It’s Yoosung.”

“…”

Your teeth snags onto your bottom lip when a lengthy silence comes from the other end. “S-Seven? You there?”, you ask, voice shaky. “I know it’s weird bu-”

“HOLY SHIT!”, you wince from the scream Seven emits. “HAHAHAHAHA YOU LIKE YOOSUNG?! DAMN ______! I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE INTO COLLEGE BOYS! HAHAHAHAHA!”

“I hate you, I hate you so much,” you hiss into the phone. “Laugh one more time and I’m keying your cars!”

He chokes on his laughs, struggling to plead with you through hacking coughs. “W-Wait ______! Let’s be reasonable here!” Seven’s frantic tone in his hoarse voice brings a smug smile on your face. “My babies don’t deserve this! Take me instead! Please!”

You haven’t your rolled your eyes this hard since… Well, ever. “Will you just-! Help me?!”, you huff, the desperation clear even through the annoyance in your voice. “I… I really like him and I don’t want him to be creeped out when he finds out that I’m like 6 years older than him.” You cringe at the thought, heart aching at the image of Yoosung’s face twisting in disgust.

“You mean you haven’t even told him your age?”, Seven asks softly. He sighs, clearly disappointed in you. “______… Yoosung won’t be creeped out.”

“How do you know that?”

“Have you not figured out what type of stuff this boy’s into? Trust me, you’re fine ______. Just tell him. It won’t change his feelings for you at all.”

“His feelings? For me?”

His chuckle feels more reassuring now, the slightest bit of confidence seeping into you from the deep sound.

“He likes you too ______. Probably way more than you think he does.”

“And then he shouts at me for not getting the item in time! Like, how was I supposed to get it when I was literally carrying his sorry butt?!”

Yoosung’s whiny rants were nothing but adorable to you. Admittedly, you were a little disappointed that the only reason he invited you over was to vent, but Yoosung is Yoosung and you’re weak.

You sink into the comfy couch, head lolling to the side to watch as he talks animatedly about his LOLOL raids, hands flailing about and lilac eyes alight with passion.

It’s been a week since your… Enlightening conversation with Seven and it’d be a lie to say it hasn’t been crossing your mind ever since. In fact, it’s concerning just how much you keep thinking about it. Every waking hour - in the shower, while you eat, while you work - it refuses to leave your head.

“He likes you too ______. Probably way more than you think he does.”

If what Seven had said was true, then…

You wet your lips nervously as Yoosung stops his babbling, your silence concerning him. “______? Are you okay?” His eyes peer deep into yours, worry shining in his hues. His pretty pink lips were pulled into a frown. You want to kiss it off of him.

‘He likes you too…’

‘Just tell him.’

‘It won’t change his feelings for you at all.’

“I’m 27!”, you blurt.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“Wait- Shit! Fuck! I didn’t mean to-!” With a loud, excruciatingly painful groan, you bury your flaming red face into your hands. You hadn’t meant to admit it so abruptly! Stupid Seven!

You can hear Yoosung shift next to you, his movements making you even more anxious. “Uhm,” he finally says. “Well, I’m 21…?” You can hear the question in his voice and you groan even more in embarrassment. Great, now you confused him…

“______? C’mon, tell me what’s wrong!” Yoosung’s hands reach out to grip at your wrists, his touch sending electric shocks up your spine. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your skin, each stroke shooting an arrow through your heart. “You know you can tell me anything right?”

You quiver under his stare, teeth latching onto and chewing your bottom lip to shreds. “My friends,” you manage to choke out, averting your gaze. His wide violet eyes were not good for your sanity. “My friends were teasing me… A-About how I’m a cougar.”

“A cougar?” He cocks his head in confusion. “What’s that?”

You want to D I E.

“Well you see Yoosung, when a woman loves a young man very very much…”

His eyebrows furrow. “So you’re telling me, you love someone and your friends are teasing you about it?”

“W-Well yeah, but the thing is he’s… He’s way younger than me and they just like to joke about that.” Yoosung looks strangely conflicted now, eyes downcast and mouth a thin line; it’s worrying. “Yoosung…?”

“Who is it?”, he asks, painfully hushed.

You could only stare at the blonde, confusion clear in your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Who’s the guy?” He looks as if someone had stabbed him, betrayal and sadness embedded in his violet hues. “Who’s the guy you… you l-love?”, he practically spat out the word.

A sudden, dawning realization falls upon you and wow holy shit I’m an idiot. Yoosung was jealous. Kim Yoosung was JEALOUS.

You couldn’t help the smile that split across your face and you shake your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “Yoosung,” you laugh, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, pressing your foreheads together. “His name’s Kim Yoosung.”

You watch his expression transition from hopeless to shock to finally, glee. “M-Me?”, he sputters, his cheeks a beautiful red. “You love me?”

Your nod had him beaming up at you, your heart stuttering at the sight. He places his hands atop of yours, staring into your eyes with adoration. “I love you too.” he sighs, pretty lips curved into a dopey smile. He leans in to press a kiss to your nose and you nearly cried from how precious he was.

“Kiss me properly.” You grin when you see how flustered he’s become, puckering your lips to tease him even more. Warm lips capture your own in a tender kiss and you hum, pleased with his boldness.

He pulls away to kiss your cheek, then along your jaw and up to your ear, your little gasps fueling his actions. His warm breath against your skin send shivers down your spine, your ears a bright red.

“You know,” he sighs, his hands sliding down to take ahold of your hips, tugging you closer. “If you were a cougar, I wouldn’t mind if you pounced on me.”

#yoosung #kim yoosung #yoosung kim #mystic messenger #mystic messenger imagines

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years

Text

A Hundred Lesser Faces: (Seven)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

This story stems from the premise: what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh?

Links to past installments: (One) (Two) (Three) (Four) (Five) (Six)

Many a red-headed man I’d passed on the long road from Lallybroch. Every single time, my stupid, desperate heart had leapt with joy; and every time, I cursed myself for the fool that I was. For Christ’s SAKE, why the bloody hell should he be on the road from Inverness, Beauchamp? Jamie Fraser is south, in Edinburgh, with his wife. With his daughters. Happy. So, pull yourself together.

So deep had been my longing, though, that my traitorous eyes had tried over and over to convince me that it might be, it MIGHT be this time! (even when the actual travelers hadn’t looked remotely like Jamie). Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, one had been a very tall boy no more than twelve, and I still had had to see his face from ten feet before I would allow my heart to quiet. Not him. Not him.

Blind hope, indeed.

But this time, as I whirled and fell on the hillside, heart exploding, in a single moment, I was certain. Even from a great distance, even two decades later, even not yet able to see his face through the snow-flecked gloom, even had he not been screaming my name, yes, I’d know the shape of that man anywhere. It was Jamie, tearing toward me on horseback, riding like the hounds of hell were at his heels. And the SIGHT of him? A relief and a love smashed through me, so deep and so visceral that I staggered downward; not running, not even making my way down the hill; just slipping, pulled toward his orbit.

Alive. I had known for months, believed, had confirmation from Jenny herself, and yet the proof was now there before my eyes. Not under a stone on Culloden Moor; that nightmare was now banished forever. Jamie Fraser was ALIVE.

I saw him kick hard, spurring the horse to an even more astonishing pace—how loudly must he have been screaming that I had been able to hear him from so far away?—and found myself bursting out with joyous laughter at the way his shirt flapped like a sail in the wind. Nothing changed, then, if the ridiculous man had ridden without a coat or a cloak against the wind and the sn—

Wife.

No.

Daughters.

Please....please, no.

This changes absolutely nothing, Beauchamp. This ends with you going through those stones, sooner or later. Make it sooner.

But he came for me—Jamie came! He’s HERE.

He’s happy. He may have come, but he’s happy. Don’t make him suffer by forcing this impossible choice.

Just let me say goodbye.

Please.

Let me hold him, just for —

Beauchamp:

Can you honestly do what needs to be done if you have to look him in the eye and pull yourself out of his arms?

“CLAIRE!—What are ye—? S T O P !”

I was running up the hill, stumbling and tripping, going as fast as I could. I couldn’t stop. If I looked at him—If I touched him...

Everything seemed to slow to single frames, impressions:

The slow shrill cry of my breaths,

the grass suddenly inches from my nose as I staggered low over a boulder.

Hoofbeats, closer, louder.

I’m running for my life through quicksand,

every footfall sinking me deeper, and slower, as the monster gets closer and closer and—

A fierce whinny, a curse.

A voice— my voice—screaming. “STAY AWAY!”

Boots hitting the ground,

“CLAIRE, STOP!”

Running, both of us running,

and I couldn’t stop.

I must not st—

Time smashed into its normal pace again as I fell, mere yards from the crest of the hill, and cried out in pain.

“CLAIRE!” God, he was so close, pounding up the hill behind me, no more than thirty—

“Don’t!” I shouted as I scrambled to my feet.

“CLAI—”

“DO—NOT—TOUCH—ME!” I screamed it over my shoulder with all the violence I possessed, a feral beast, cornered and ready to go for the throat as it went down.

Silence fell on the faerie hill. Stillness, and absolute silence.

When human thought returned, I was on my feet at the very top of the hill, the stones screaming their evil song behind me. My body was slung sideways, both arms raised in defense; my head hung at an improbable angle so as to look nowhere, see nothing: not the stones, not him. It was elemental in my body, in that moment: the absolute imperative not to look at him. If I could keep from looking, keep from getting trapped in those eyes, everything would be alright.

It was a ridiculous logic, I knew; somewhere in the recesses of my consciousness, that was obvious. Jamie Fraser was HERE. He wouldn’t simply let me walk away unacknowledged; but such was the depth of my panic and hysteria that I couldn’t move. I was bare millimeters from completely falling apart, abandoning all my noble resolve, and flinging myself into his arms, begging him to choose me — take me — and damn the fucking consequences.

But it still wouldn’t change a bloody thing, the rational half of my mind whimpered. He would still be married. He would still have his children. We still could not be together, or at least not under any circumstances that honor would permit. I still could not force him to make that choice.

Hold yourself together, Beauchamp. No tears, remember? You said you could do the same for him; could be calm and sure for him. Now, do it. Stand strong.

“....Mo nighean donn?”

That flower-stem snap.

That voice—Jamie’s sweet, clear voice; my very heart speaking aloud, quietly, but with every ounce of pain and longing that I felt in my own breast.

“Look at me, mo nighean donn.”

Stand. strong.

My mouth was dry and my entire body was shaking, each word an effort. “— Can't—”

A sudden, vicious snarl. “LOOK at me!”

I half-growled, half screamed, “I—CANT!”

Desperate. So desperate, that ‘can’t’. I was shaking. Going into shock, in fact. Could feel the darkness and the manic energy and the absolute inability to retrieve words or actions closing—

“Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.”

He said it like he always said his own name: low and distinct, with honor in every syllable.

BE STRONG.

“I have ridden,” he said, in a voice so quiet and deep and measured, “night and day for nigh on a week, terrified that—terrified th—*Please,*” His calm vanished and the words were tumbling out of him in a frantic rush. “Please, for the love ye bear me, for the love that brought ye to find me: TURN.”

STAND.

God, but I can’t stand.

“By everything that is holy...” A whispered moan. “Let me see your face, mo ghraidh.”

....and damn my weak, foolish heart, I turned. I looked.

Day and night for a week, he’d said, and I believed it. Even at a distance of twenty feet down the hill, I could see just how bloodshot his eyes were, wide and wild. He was pale, underneath the red of wind and exertion, paler than I remembered. That glorious hair was now worn long. If it had been tied back, the ride and the wind had undone it. It was wild and tangled, whipping about his face, his chin covered in stubble that nearly amounted to a beard. His clothes—nothing but shirt, breeks and boots— were filthy and torn and splattered with mud. He looked, quite simply, dead on his feet.

He was the most beautiful sight I'd ever beheld.

God, you’re so like her, I wanted to moan. I’d known it, had had my heart broken every day to see the proof of him in our daughter, and yet seeing him now before me, I was absolutely run through to find her broad, good-humored face there, the same dark blue eyes aslant the high, flat cheekbones and wide mouth.

He’d aged, of course, as had I. The lines around eyes and mouth were deeper, the skin more weathered and coarse, but it was still him. His nose had been broken, at some point. It made him look fiercer, though perhaps that was simply fatigue and the vast waves of emotion obviously rushing through him, through us both.

Jamie had staggered back a pace or two back as he stared up at me, nearly toppling down the steep incline. “Jesus....Christ...” he whispered. The back of his hand was pressed to his mouth as though to stifle a cry, “You’re....You....” The hand became a fist and he shook his head as a gasping smile broke from him. “Claire—God, Claire, mo chridhe!” He moved, about to sprint up the hill.

I jumped backward. Raised my arms against him. No.

Hurt. Betrayal. Pain. It was as though I had shot him at point-blank range...And something deeper shone beneath it all: some blazing intensity I couldn’t quite identify. He looked as though he would bleed out there on the spot, from this newest wound.

So will I, my love.

But he heeded me, standing completely still. His hands shook, half-raised before him. He simply didn't know what to do with them—I knew because I didn’t know what to do with mine. His mouth worked as he tried to speak, to ask, to say something, but failing. Those eyes held everything, though. Pleading.

Silence on the hill. Silence and screaming.

“You—survived,” I managed at last, weakly, with something like a laugh.

“Aye—” He exhaled in a huge rush, clearly grateful that I'd broken the stalemate. “It was a verra close thing.” He spoke fast and frantically, babbling, even, as though terrified to let silence fall again. “I should have died in the battle, or from the firing squads after, or of my wounds festering, but— Aye, I—I was—spared.”

“Thank God,” I whispered, and his eyes lit with such hope and relief that I could have cut my bloody tongue out at the root.

STOP this instant, Beauchamp. Nothing has changed.

Jamie was the one to break the silence, this time. “Your letter,” he gasped out.

“You read it, then?” A stupid thing to say. He’d obviously read it, but I clung to conversation just as he had. The stupid words were something, something to keep from falling off the edge of this insanity. “When?”

“By providence, I arrived at Lallybroch the same day you’d left, and....Oh, God, CLAIRE....”

Oh, God, Jamie.

Each time my name left him, it seemed to tear a piece out of both of us. I could only look down at him, waiting.

“When I saw your hand on that letter,” he said, voice shaking uncontrollably, “the print of your ring in the wax, I ...”

He shook his head, at a loss, mouthing it over and over. I...I....

Through the snow, though darkness was creeping steadily around us, I could see the first tear sliding down his cheek. “....I felt as though I were dying.”

So did I. So do I.

“To know you’d survived—that you’d come back, and—and,” his eyes lit up. “Brianna.”

From his lips, our daughter’s name sounded like strange music from another world, and I wanted to listen to it forever.

“It would have been enough—more than enough—only to ken our bairn had lived, that the both of ye had lived and been cared for, but to....Claire, I simply couldna believe my eyes.” He shook his head, violently. “To see...to SEE the lass...our daughter.” Jamie released his sobbing breath and closed his eyes, holding out his hands before him, tears streamed down his cheeks. “Her entire life, there before me... and she so happy and so braw and bonny and—God, it tore out my beating heart.” He heaved a breath and smiled up at me, beaming with love and joy, though it was difficult for him to get out the words. “She’s—more wonderful than I ever could have imagined, mo ghraidh....Our Brianna.”

I forced a smile and choked down a sob. “I’m so honored,” I whispered, so haltingly, so carefully, so, so carefully, “to have been able—to bring her to you, in some way.”

My love.

My own love.

Nothing has changed.

I know.

I took a step, two steps, backward toward the stones. This was the part where I was to be strong.

Jamie’s eyes snapped into laser-focus, a predator’s, and that unknown intensity I’d seen earlier flamed now into life. It was anger.

“Why would ye just GO?” His voice was still wretched with pain but he was snarling, stammering, growling in mounting fury. “Ye—ye came for me and—Ye came all the way from your time through the stones and then meant to go back and leave forever wi’out even—Damn ye, woman, ye didna even—If I hadna come just in time—Foolish—wretched, FOOLISH—” He hurled the demand toward me with his entire body. “WHY?”

“You *know* why.” It was all but a moan.

He growled again. “Ye dinna ken —”

“I know that you’re married,” I got out, moving sideways around the rim of the hill, countering his advance. “I know you have children. Jenny told me everything—how hap—”

“No, Claire, ye dinna understand!” Something had shifted in his eyes — relief? — and he was once again still, though scarcely fifteen feet in front of me down the hill. “Jenny lied. She lied, Claire,” he insisted, the words falling out of him. “She lied and made ye think I was—”

“You're not — ??”

Jenny lied! Thank the bloody stars above, the horrible bitch LIED!!! Jesus H—

My smile broke through like the dawn, a blaze of glorious, raging happiness as I gasped out, “Then, you’re not married?”

And I watched as that hope shriveled and vanished to dust. His eyes dropped to the ground. “I am marrit.”

I swayed, eyes closed. I couldn’t bear this any longer, couldn’t take this agony raging in my heart, both the emotional and the physical heart. I felt light-headed, felt pain in my limbs. I couldn’t be strong. I couldn’t.

Just a little while longer. Say your farewell, and be gone. It will be alright, Beauchamp.

“Then she didn’t lie,” I said, simply, my throat burning with the effort not to wail. “You have a wife and two beautiful daughters.” I caught my breath and opened my eyes, managing to smile, though I was so very near the brink. “I meant what I wrote in the letter. Every single word. I want you to be happy—and I’m glad that you are. I’m glad that you have a family and that they have made you happy.”

His brows were drawn up, making him look absolutely crazed. He mouthed the word like he’d never heard it before. Happy?

“But I—” Somehow, I kept up the smile as I whispered through wooden lips and burning throat and the tears. “—but it means—that I have—to go, now— before—”

“NO,” he snarled, springing with sudden force. I staggered still further away around the hill as he bellowed, “You’ll NOT—”

“BE STILL!” I bellowed back.

And once again, he heeded me.

“For God’s fucking SAKE, you bloody — Scot!” I shouted down at him, suddenly just as furious as he. “Have you NO notion of what — Don’t you understand? I’m giving you up! I’m letting you go!” I gestured wildly behind me to the stones, choking on my tears. “I’m leaving so you don’t have to choose! Do you think I’m so arrogant as to believe I’m worth upending your happy—”

“DAMN YOU, woman, I havena been HAPPY in TWENTY YEARS!”

Silence on the faerie hill. Silence and screaming.

When he spoke again, it was once more in that quiet, aching whisper.

“Jenny led ye to believe otherwise and may she be damned for it.” He took a step forward, pointing. “But in that letter, ye renewed a promise to me; and I’ll give ye the same, now.” Another step.

I stepped back.

He surrendered, went to his knees, hands clenched in the posture of oath-taking. “No lies, Claire.” His eyes blazed into mine. “Nor secrets. Not ever. Not now. I swear it on Brianna’s life.”

God, my heart...

“Will ye hear what I have to tell?”

...it simply couldn’t take this.

But I nodded.

“I left Laoghaire more than a year past.”

“LAOGHAIRE?!?”

The outburst was so violent, so loud and so shrill in the wake of my long silence, that it startled us both. Jamie had to put a hand out to steady himself as he jumped, and the acute panic of a fresh hell showed across his face. “She—Jenny didna—?”

“No, she BLOODY well DIDN’T!”

“Aye, well—ah ...ehm...Claire?”

He was peering leerily up at me, and little wonder, for I was laughing—actually, CACKLING with laughter, hands clutched to my belly as I doubled over with it.

“No, Jenny didn’t tell me who,” I sighed, when I had calmed down (marginally). “The only detail your darling sister deigned to divulge about your wife—”

Of all people. Of ALL the marriageable women in all the bleeding Highlands. He had married —had had children with—loved—

All levity, all scorn dropped out of me, and my voice cracked, a whispering shell. “—was that you were happier with her than she’d ever seen you....And that you had two little girls that call you Da.”

“But they’re not mine, Claire. They’re not mine,” Jamie said again more urgently as I stared. He gritted his teeth. “And I shall wring my sister’s neck for a wicked liar when next I see her, for she kens fine that I’ve not had ninety-nine happy minutes in that marriage since it began.”

I was so cold. Frozen, in every cell.

“Two years ago, we wed,” he began carefully. “She was marrit before, twice, and found herself a widow wi’ two bairns to feed just as I was newly come back from England.”

His words were running together, a bit. There was so much warring within him, so much he clearly wished to say, but cold and fatigue and emotion were taking their devastating toll.

“I’m fond of her lassies—Marsali and Joan. They're aged fifteen and twelve and have had a cruel, rough way of it, in lives so short. Wi’ all that they’ve endured, I was glad—honored, even— for them to take me into their hearts as a father, but hear me, Claire.” He held my eye. “I've shared scarce more wi’ them than what loving gentleness I could offer, and a scant few months of meals shared ‘round the same table. No more.” He shook his head with a sound of shame and regret. “Christ, I sound an unfeeling wretch. I do care for them, I do.”

But they weren’t born of his love; nor had he had a hand in raising them.

“Their mother...She...”

She.

“I did have hope, at the beginning; hope that perhaps there could be some — tenderness between us. Nothing like—” He make a vain gesture up at me and closed his eyes, as though he couldn’t bear it. “—like what I kent it could be between a husband and wife, but something good to keep me sane; keep me alive....Can ye see?...Have ye kent that same hope, Claire?.... Only she couldna; or I couldna. I’ll accept the blame in full, but in the end, the ‘why’ and ‘who’ dinna matter. It was a broken thing within months, and I knew that if I’d stayed....”

He hung his head, and for the first time, I could truly see the twenty years that had gone from his life.

“I left for Edinburgh; have been there ever since. I provide for them, but I havena called Balriggan home for over a year...nor shared her bed since long before that.”

The wind whistled between us. What he was saying...

I was numb. I was...It was like I was underwater, with news being shouted to me from dry land as I slowly drowned.

“I’ve lain wi’ three women, since you’ve been gone,” he blurted suddenly, urgently against my silence, his voice so miserable, his eyes imploring. “Laoghaire, and two single-night encounters, and from one of those—From one of those nights...”

Oh, Jesus...

“William,” he whispered, nodding in confirmation, his eyes absolutely wretched but shining with the need to confess. “He’s a — a bastard, in England, and I shall never see him again. I’ve never told anyone of him, not even Jenny or Ian. His mother, his putative father—they’re both dead. He’s highborn, in the care of a man I trust. John will give him a good life; better than ever a convicted traitor could.”

He closed his eyes and I could see his mouth working furiously as he tried both to form words and to hold back his weeping. “But he’s my son,” he whispered. “My only son, alive in the world because of me, and he’s bonny and canty and strong, just like Brianna, and there are days when I canna seem to live wi’out seeing him, holding him, or —” And he went silent, hiding his face in his hands until he could manage to speak. “Nor can I regret that he lives, for those years I had near Willie were the closest thing I’ve had to—to — And that only a shell of what....”

He raised a hand up as though he would cup my cheek across the chasm between us; then dropped it. Both hands lay on his thighs, aimless.

“No. Happiness has not been granted me, Claire.” He stared at his palms, speaking in the barest, broken murmur. “My heart left wi’ you and the bairn; and while it is my duty to go on, to care for those under my protection, as I shall do, I've had little joy save the knowledge that at the end, I'd die and be able to find ye, just as I promised. Two hundred years, I said I’d wait. I’ve been counting.”

The snowflakes danced around us in the near-night, oblivious to desperation or to miraculous sparks catching in dark, deep places.

“And to then learn in a moment that you’d come back...”

I tried to speak; but I was shaking so hard that I couldn’t open my mouth. I clenched it tight, feeling the tears slipping over my lips.

“Claire?” he moaned, reaching out a hand. “...Lass?...Love?...I feel as if I shall die if I canna touch ye....Please.”

My knees had locked — everything within me had locked, between Jamie and the cold— and as I tried to adjust my footing, I accidentally stumbled backward a pace.

Despair escaped out of him and he jumped up as though to run to me, but he thought better of it, and came back down to his knees.

“Twice, I brought ye here to send ye away, mo nighean donn, because I knew a better life awaited ye on the other side of those accursed stones. Perhaps it does, this day, as well, but this time, I shall beg. Don't go.”

He raised both clawed hands to me. The tears were flowing so violently and his face was so deeply contorted so as to be barely recognizable.

“Don’t go. Stay wi’ me. Stay. I canna...I canna do it...Please....*please*....”

I was paralyzed, completely immobilized by — by —

“Is it too much to forgive, Claire?” came the cracked moan of my heart through the darkness that had suddenly hidden him from me entirely. “Laoghaire and—and William? Do... do ye not want me?”

“God, Jamie...” I whispered, so softly that surely only the grass and the snow could hear.

It was the first time I had said his name aloud to him.

“....you're all I want.”

“Then what else matters?”

“....Nothing.”

Nothing else mattered.

And I was flying down to him, and he was flying off his knees to catch me, and the feeling of his arms around me, of Jamie’s arms around me at last was —

Like lightning, striking upon the sand. A flash of light, of power, instantly transforming the hundreds of tiny fragments— the millions of shards weathered to all but nothing by time—into a single, molten one. A whole.

END OF PART I

#;mod bonnie #A Hundred Lesser Faces #seeeee if i'd kept this with part 6 it would have been wayyyy too much #Angst Angst Baby #dm-dm-dm-dm-dididi-dm #also #sorry for the bolding #i usually avoid bold text but i found i needed it #why do mega-italics not exist #as if i needed more tools in my formatting-overkill repertoire

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missmarquin · 6 years

Quote

The destruction was far worse than he could have ever feared. He took pride in being calm and collected most of the time, keeping a cool head. But he could feel the beast rising with in him, ready to burst from his chest in a violent fit of rage. His hand clenched tightly, trying to calm the blood boiling in his veins. His wolves had no self-control. They had attacked and pillaged this village, killing all who had resisted. And his humans had resisted, that he could certainly see. He stood in the aftermath of Kiso-cho , taking in the smoldering buildings as the smoke burned his nose. Death surrounded him. This wasn’t what Kouga ha d wanted. He had loved this quaint, little place. These were his people; they lived in his lands, even if they were human. They had paid their taxes and in turn he protected them. The thought turned sour in his gut—some protector he was. He would never have condoned this. “Lord Kouga,” said a voice from behind him. “Ginta,” he responded almost immediately. He didn’t turn to face him though , instead rubbing at his nose to stop the itching. “We’ve rounded up the ro gu es, M’lord,” he said to him. Kouga nodded. “Thank you.” He wasn’t an evil person and perhaps that was his flaw. His wolves had made mistakes; what were rules, if there wasn’t someone to break them? His soft, understanding heart had been lenient, only banishing them. But oh, how the regret filled him. What was the human phrase? The one about hindsight being perfect vision? He let out a heavy sigh as he considered the thought . “And the humans?” “I haven’t found any alive, but it’s hard to tell. Through the smoke and blood, I can’t smell a damn thing right now.” Ginta paused, hesitating. “The rogues, sir?” Kouga nodded again. “You know what I will ask; I leave them to you.” The words felt sour in his mouth. He tried to keep the emotion from his face, forcing his tone into hardened steel. It wasn’t easy. Many of these men he had known for a long time, decades even. Curse his soft heart. “I will continue to look around,” he finished with a resigned sigh . “M’lord, you don’t have to—” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Kouga waved a dismissive hand at him. Ginta regarded him for a moment before bowing and heading back the way he had come. Kouga turned his attention back to the scene before him, the weight of responsibility pressing on him. His gut twisted at the sight of the poor, pitiful village. He forced himself to walk towards it, charred twigs and stones crunching under his feet. He had all but led his men to slaughter them. He paused short of a woman sprawled across th e ground, barely out of her hut, her kimono pulled open and askew. She was marred by deep gashes across her gut, her lifeless eyes stretched skyward. He regarded her sadly for a long moment before kneeling and reaching out to close her eyes. Her skin was cold underneath his fingert ips as they slipped lower, pulling the neckline of her kimono shut. There was a shuffle to his left and he paused , his hand hovering over the burnt silk . A whimper floated through the air and his ears twitched, his head whipping towards it. He saw nothing, save for a few potato sacks and a large stack of firewood against a storage shed. He lifted his nose slowly to sniff at the air, but only caught the metallic smell of blood and ashy smoke. He left the woman to investigate . A sack twitched the tiniest bit and his arm whipped out with blazing speed to pull it away. A little girl cowered there beneath him, arms held over her head as she trembled in a bent over lump. Sobs wracked her body and the salty scent of her tears assaulted his nose. He paused, unsure what to do. It wasn’t often that he came across human children, let alone crying ones. He was entirely out of his element. Finally, he knelt beside her, trying to be as gentle as possible . “Hey there,” Kouga soothed. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She flinched, afraid and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she knew exactly what he was. He knew what she expected from him and it left an ill taste in his mouth. He hesitated before grasping her arm softly. The girl started, darting from him with surprising speed, barely slipping through his fingertips. She didn’t make it far though, stopping dead as she stared at the woman on the ground. He watched as she fell to the ground beside her, trying to shake the woman awake and then letting out a pitiful cry when she didn’t move. Kouga watched as the child screamed and cried and poured out her heart , realizing that the woman must have been her mother. He took the m oment to kneel beside her again and this time she was too distraught to flinch. “Girl,” he said softly. She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes wet and red. “Don’t c ry-- child, please.” She gained some of her sense back, trembling as she regarded him. He couldn’t blame her ; she had seen what his men had done to her village. With great hesitance, he pressed a thumb against her cheek to rub away the tears, being mindful of his claws. Instinctually, she must have realized that he meant no harm and she leaned into the touch. Without a second thought, he picked the little girl up, cradling her close to his chest as he stood. Her sobs quieted, leaving only silent tears trailing down her face. The girl was in immense shock. She either didn’t care what was happening or didn’t understand. Kouga pitied her. His wolves had done this. It was his fault that her family had been ripped from her. He should have killed them outright. Betrayal held a steep price and his heart had been far too soft. His hesitation had orphaned this poor girl. He turned and walked from the ruins, ready to wash the scene from his mind. The girl remained quiet, sinking into his arms and steady pace. He found Ginta on the edge of the village, his fingers and face stained with fresh blood. A confused expression flashed across his features, his head cocked to the side as he regarded the girl , as he licked his claws clean . Kouga glared at him in warning, daring him to ask. Ginta didn’t, opting to remain curious. “There is a woman who lay dead, back in the town. Bury her.” Ginta nodded without question, taking his leave once more. Kouga looked down at the girl tucked into his chest, surprised to find her watching him. She regarded him with large brown eyes, hollow and sad. Unfeeling, almost. Shocked and full of despair. His heart clenched painfully. “Come on girl,” he finally said, placing a comforting hand on her head. “I’ll take care of you.” ----- ==== ----- Teaser from my new Inuyasha AU, inspired loosely by Mulan and Princess Mononoke. Like Romance? Action? Politics? Betrayal? Please check out Lotus, here on Archive of Our Own!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/13084374

#Fanfiction #Inuyasha #Rin #Sesshoumaru #Sesshoumaru and Rin #Shipou #Shippou #Kouga #AUFanfiction #Lotus #Lotusverse #Author

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noikracs · 4 years

Text

Summary: Reiji has a major ptsd attack and instinctively crawls into the vents of the house, for his parents to find him

Clutching his hands on his neck, he felt it ache but it’s not like he cared, he had something worse on his mind.

Don’thurtmedon’thurtmedon’thurt—

“Reiji, Reiji, b—baby, you need to stop clutching your neck, your skin it’s— it’s breaking,” cried Tajima, trying to take his voice down though.

The boy still shook, and gripped even harder before Sugai grumbled, “fuck it,” and grabbed his hands and pulled them to his lap.

Reiji only sobbed, his tendrils unleashing but other than that, he stayed still despite the shaking.

“B—baby, it’s just us, we won’t hurt you— we could— could never. Please, just breathe,” Tajima coaxed shakily.

Suddenly the boy looked at them, realization hitting his eyes before jumping into the vents, tendrils assisting him.

Sugai nearly screamed out of instinct while Tajima froze.

“Let’s go get h—him,” said Sugai, his hands lighting up a bright orange from his quirk, to help find the boy.

Immediately, Tajima put his hands on Sugai’s. “Let’s get him another way, babe... I don’t want to scare him.”

With frustration, the man grumbled with a groan, “Either do I, but this is the most efficient way to find him.”

Tajima was about to argue but stopped himself, just muttering, “Just trust me on this,” as Sugai felt like he had to nod.

“Cal,” Tajima called out, “Check for heat signatures in the vents.”

The AI took at least thirty seconds before saying, “It seems there is Sir Reiji in the vent above the gym. He is making his way in there as we speak.”

Sugai looked over at Tajima, only for the slightly elderly man to nod as they made their way into the gym, a floor below them.

“Love? Reiji, please come out. We aren’t going to hurt you,” said Sugai, seeing the shadow in the corner of the dimly lit room.

No response except a small whimper.

Tajima took a deep breath. “Baby, you aren’t— you aren’t th—there. We aren’t going to hurt you,” he said cautiously.

“Leave me a—alone,” the voice belonging to Reiji whimpered, like an injured dog.

Shakily, Sugai rasped, “We can’t— we can’t do that, sweetheart. T—talk to us.”

Reiji’s voice turned from the sound of an injured dog to an angry one as he barked angrily, “I said leave me alone!” He stood abruptly, his teeth baring.

“N—no, bambino, calm down, you’ll hurt yourself,” Tajima nearly sobbed, as Reiji dug his nails into the same spot on his neck.

The boy hissed, “Stay away from me! I’ll only hurt you!”

Sugai’s voice hitched. “You won’t— you won’t hurt us, love. Just come to us, sweetheart. Please.”

“I’m a m—monster! Stay away from me!” he growled, his whole body shaking.

Gently yet sternly, Tajima said, “You are not a monster, miele. You could— you could never be a monster.”

Reiji looked like he was about to say something before silencing himself, slowly and cautiously walking towards them.

“That’s it, love, just come here,” Sugai cooed, opening his arms as Tajima did the same.

And then slowly yet surely the boy buried himself in their arms, sobbing loudly.

Sugai stroked his hair as Tajima sobbed, just holding the boy tight.

“I’m— I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Reiji screamed and sobbed, his whole body shaking.

Gulping, Sugai cooed, “Love, you need to stop crying, please. Your shaking too hard...”

Reiji didn’t listen, and only cried harder, tears and snot falling violently down as Tajima wiped as much as he could with his finger, feeling more tears run down his own eyes.

“I ru’n e—everything! I’m such a— a fucking mistake!” sobbed the boy, biting his tongue enough for it to bleed and blood coming out of his mouth.

The taller man nearly jumped back in shock before gently prying the boy’s mouth open to look, ignoring the snot and tears before mumbling, “D—dear, you need to stop h—hurting yourself.”

Tajima let out a sob and buried his nose in Reiji’s hair. “Baby— baby, please stop, please— please, I’m begging you,” he cried.

“D—daddies...?” Reiji suddenly coughed, tasting blood and eyes wide.

Immediately, Sugai nodded. “Yes, yes, love, it’s us. No one’s going to hurt you, sweetheart,” he cooed, feeling relieved the boy was calming down.

Reiji wiped his tears before asking quietly, “Why do I taste b—blood?”

“You were biting your tongue, bambino,” murmured Tajima, his voice still muffled by being buried in Reiji’s hair.

Wiping his own tears, Sugai said gently, “Come on, let’s go sit on the couch, yeah?”

Reiji sniffled. “Can we— can we stay here?” he spluttered, his usual bright green eyes dull and nearly dead.

“Of course,” Tajima said, gathering the boy in his arms and sitting down on the gym floor with him in his lap.

Sitting down with them, Sugai examined the boy’s neck before seething at the sight of his broken skin.

Reiji asked, shocked, “What’s wrong?”

“Your n—neck, you were gripping it a— a bit too hard, lovely,” he responded, his voice breaking.

The boy mumbled, “Sorry.”

Tajima gave a reassuring smile. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. If you don’t mind me asking, wh—what triggered this?” he asked cautiously.

“I don’t kn—know,” Reiji murmured, choking up a bit.

Rubbing circles in his back, Sugai nearly whispered, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Sometimes nothing has to trigger it. Sometimes things like this just happen,” he explained gently.

Reiji blinked away some tears. “Really?” he asked, slightly shocked.

“Of course.”

“Oh.”

Cocking his head slightly, Tajima asked, “You okay?”

Reiji paused before nodding. “Yeah. I’m sorry for all of this.”

“We already told you, this isn’t your fault,” Sugai nearly grumbled, stopping himself from getting frustrated, knowing Reiji just didn’t like causing trouble.

The boy sighed. “I h—hate them so much,” he grumbled, referring to his biological parents, the ones who traumatized him— who caused this all.

Tajima nodded. “We all do, baby.”

“They sent someone to do some experiments on me and— and I killed them. I’m a monster,” cried Reiji, starting to shake again.

Though both parents were shocked, they had to calm him down first.

Sugai cooed, “Shh, love, it’s okay, you are not a monster. You— you could never be a— that.”

“But— but I—”

“It was self-defense. It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I would’ve done the same thing.”

“R—really?”

“Really.”

Slowly, the boy nestled himself in Tajima’s lap, just burying his face in his chest, despite it being covered in tears and snot.

Sugai asked gently, “Are you tired, baby?”

“Y—yeah,” Reiji murmured.

Rocking him back and forth slowly, Tajima coddled him in his arms. “Let’s get you fixed up first, piccolo. Does that sound good?”

Reiji mumbled, “Wh’ you mean?”

“Your neck,” Sugai said gently, cringing at the sight of the raw, broken skin.

How could he grip it so hard?

Reiji made a small, ‘oh’ noise before trying to stand, before falling back in the shorter father’s lap and letting a cry out of shock.

“Oh, honey,” cried Tajima, before bringing the boy close to his chest, stroking his hair.

Crying, the boy sobbed, “I’m sorry I didn’t— I didn’t mean to— to—”

Sugai cut him off, saying sweetly as he could, “This isn’t your fault, love. We can carry you, okay? Do your legs hurt, dear?” he asked shakily, even more worried.

“I d’t think so,” Reiji slurred a bit, his eyes watering still.

Taking a deep breath, Tajima nodded, bringing the boy’s hair to his lips and lifting him gently.

Sugai said calmly, “Let’s just get your neck healed up and check your tongue too. Then if you’d like, you could take a shower,” he offered.

“O—okay,” Reiji mumbled before embarrassingly saying, “I don’t know if I can by myself. I still feel nauseous,” he admitted.

Giving a reassuring smile, Tajima tried to stay optimistic by saying, “That’s okay, babydoll. We can help you if you want.”

Reiji gave a grateful smile. “Th’nks.”

“The first aid kit is in the kitchen, right?” Sugai asked, as Tajima nodded.

It was Tajima who mainly carried the boy since he was already in his lap earlier, though Sugai eyed them, worried he’d drop the boy— forgetting Tajima’s strength.

Sugai helped set the boy on the counter, before getting the first aid kit in the bottom shelf, before opening it and taking a moment to find the things he needed.

“Will this h—hurt?” asked Reiji as he gripped Tajima’s hand tightly.

Nodding slightly, Sugai said, “A little, maybe. The skin is broken. First, let’s just get it wet with water. This shouldn’t hurt that much.”

The man gave Tajima a cotton ball as he put some water over it, before putting it over the broken skin gently, Reiji groaning slightly, still gripping his other hand.

“It’s alright, love, shh, I know,” Sugai cooed, stroking his silky brown locks.

When Tajima finished, he kissed his forehead and said a small ‘good job.’

Sugai grabbed some ointment. “This may hurt a bit more. I’m sorry, honey, but this is the last part. Though I want to take a look at your tongue when we’re done with this.”

“O—okay,” Reiji murmured.

This time, instead of having Tajima do it, he did it himself, putting the cream on his finger and rubbing it in gently.

Reiji sucked air through his teeth and gripped the shorter father’s hand.

“There, done, love,” Sugai said and kissed the crown of Reiji’s head, giving a small smile.

Kissing his ear, Tajima cooed, “You did so well, sweetheart. Can Sugai take a look at that tongue now?”

Reiji nodded, opening his mouth and awkwardly showing the tip of his tongue, a deep gash in it.

“Yeah, dear, you did quite damage there,” mumbled Sugai, grabbing a piece of gauze and putting it on the tongue to stop the bleeding.

A groan was heard from Reiji, but he didn’t sheath his tongue, just groaned.

Tajima gripped the boy’s hand and said encouragingly, “Your doing great, baby.”

“There we go. Now we just need to put some ice on it. Not for long, just a little,” said Sugai, giving the same encouraging smile as Tajima.

The boy nodded, still sticking his tongue out just out of pain.

Sugai came back after grabbing an ice pack from the fridge and putting the big pack on the tongue, just holding it there for a good thirty seconds before taking it off to look at it.

“I’ it goo’?” Reiji asked, his voice sounding different from having his tongue out.

Chuckling, Tajima said, “It should be. Right, Sugai?”

Sugai nodded, giving the same fond smile as Reiji. “Should be. We should check on it tomorrow as well, though.”

“It still hurts,” Reiji mumbled, putting his tongue back in his mouth.

Concerningly, Tajima asked, “Can you still taste blood, honey?”

Reiji shook his head. “No. Just still hurts,” he mumbled.

“You might want to take a break from eating quickly or salty foods for awhile, love,” said Sugai, cleaning up the medicines.

A groan was heard from Reiji. “So does that mean no saltine crackers?”

“Yes.”

Tajima smiled. “It’ll be okay, Reiji. Wanna go take that shower?”

“Can it be a bath instead?” Reiji asked shyly, rubbing the wound before the taller father stopped him.

Sugai’s eyes narrow, he said sternly yet gently, “Of course, just stop touching the wound. And here,” he suddenly grabbed a band-aid and put it on the wound gently.

Reiji sighed. “Sorry.”

“No need for apologies. Let’s just get you cleaned up, yes?”

After they finished, Reiji in a giant baby yoda T-shirt, he asked quietly, “Can I sleep with you guys?”

“Of course, miele,” Tajima said, beaming.

Sugai helped the boy sit in between them and they cuddled for the rest of the night.

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