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enzoxhuxley · 1 year

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House of Memories // self para

“You’ve been staring at that photo for a solid hour, baby.” Enzo raised his head from the spot he sat on the bed’s mattress, seeing his wife’s form in the doorway. The light shining from the living room cast an ethereal glowing halo around the woman, making her appear as heavenly as the day they met. It is true, however, Enzo had the framed photograph of their wedding day propped in his hands and wasn’t keeping track of the time since he plucked it from its spot on the dresser. Amelia was a vision in cascading white, using the same dress her mother did with a few minor alterations to fit her style. Even sitting here and experiencing the same anxiety-inducing giddiness could cause Enzo to continuously wonder how he had wound married to someone so perfect for him. “Just needed a blast from the past, I guess. You were stunning.”

Amelia smiled with a hum, stepping further into the room as she nodded, “You insisted on wearing a leather jacket, but I had to beg you to practically shove yourself into a suit.” She placed her palms in front of her, reminiscence crossing her expression. There was the tension at the wedding, particularly with Enzo’s side of the family, yet she played the mediator keeping the storm calm. The level-headed one, the conflict negotiator distracting both Huxley siblings from their former nagging guardians. Enzo would have lost control of his temper and faced a screaming match before they even cut the cake. “Don’t forget your sister and Pandora stole more than their fair share at the bar and spent the entire night trying not to spill their drinks on the dance floor. You were this close to carrying Sid home. It was...sweet.”

“Beg? Honey, you wouldn’t stop dropping hints and demands until I finally fucking gave up. The old ball and chain at work.” Enzo grunted satisfactorily, his fingers tracing the faded gray frame bordering the picture and shaking his head at her next statement, “She didn’t need to worry about ruining my night. I got to take care of my girls.” He assured her of such even if she disagreed, again, though, not a single moment of the wedding or the reception’s events destroyed how beautiful marrying the woman he cared for immensely had been. To make such a profound promise, to have and to hold, until death did they part. It wasn’t something Enzo thought he needed until he had it. Nothing else mattered but his family, nothing but Sid and Amelia. Adding to that family was a goal he would willingly shoot for.

“You’re always taking care of those around you more than yourself.” She observed matter-of-factly, her gaze drifting to the photo of their smiling faces in happier times. When their hopes and dreams were at their strongest even in a city drowning in bloodshed and faction wars. Enzo played his part in those battles for the Vincent name, proud and loyal to a leader who unleashed the monster within her husband as much as she tamed it. “Enzo,” Amelia’s vocal tone lowered by a breathy whisper, a melancholic one, as she lowered to a seat beside him. “As fervent as you are to become the caretaker, it’s not just on your shoulders alone to protect them. You can’t protect everyone.” There was a growing pause Enzo dreaded would end, she could see the lines forming on his hardened features that often softened in her presence. The bleeding heart man behind the dark passenger he carried.

“You couldn’t protect me.”

The realization, the reminder of all he has lost when looking at the empty void beside him where his wife should have been. A reminder that, yes, Amelia was still dead. The child she carried, the life cut short by a poison concoction of drugs pushed into its mother’s system. Enzo wasn’t crazy in his hallucinations, just...in need of comforting familiarity. The woman who could understand him and contain the fury gripping his soul. The man knew the phantom haunting his dreams wasn’t real, only a remnant from the past he couldn’t shake. Wallowing in a game of pretend is one thing, knowing he came home to an empty house every night is another. No wife, no son or daughter, filling the days with happiness. “I tried, god damn it, I tried.” He forced out, placing the photo frame between them and resting his head in his hands before fingers rubbed through his cropped hair, “And it wasn’t enough, Amelia. I still lost you. I still lost-” Enzo sliced the sentence short, knowing exactly what he no longer had, “You and the baby slipped through my fingers. I can’t move on from this.”

“Yes, you can. Honey, look at me.” The apparition of Amelia paused to allow her husband the opportunity to lift his gaze, but now he could barely stand to, “Look at me.” It took him a moment for his head to rise and their eyes to lock firmly, “You already are moving on from this and you don’t even realize it, baby.” How can he move on without her planting his feet on the ground? What could possibly give her the impression he exited the mourning period and left behind the grief? Certainly, Enzo distracted his mind by stepping to the plate and helping the younger members of the faction, being the guiding hand those kids never possessed whether they needed a parental figure or the big brother. There were one night stands, flings lasting no more than a week, nothing stuck permanently, not that he ever permitted anyone to grow that close. He only needed Sid, really. There was one thought, however, one person, that did cross his mind who shouldn’t have so swiftly, and it’s that thought Amelia voiced as if she read his soul. “Eleanor Cabello.”

Enzo immediately shook his head in denial, “This isn’t about Eleanor, honey-”

“Isn’t it?” Amelia interjected, lifting a cocked brow with a slow breathing sigh. Of course, her husband would pretend his little crush didn’t exist or he hoped to downplay it immensely. Enzo couldn’t lie to her and she knew this for a fact, not that he would’ve dared to in the past when she knew his tells. “Knowing she holds a connection to the faction you believe is responsible for how I died suffocates you with the guilt to keep anyone up at night. She’s an Ainsworth, or was an Ainsworth, and you’re a Vincent, forbidden relationships a tale as old as time. You sacrifice your own happiness by not letting people in, Enz.”

“And what if I do, huh?” Enzo pushed himself to his feet and turned to face the woman, growing agitated, “That I go fuck all and push everyone I meet away at arm’s length? Doing that shit protects me, Amelia, it protects me from ever losing someone I love the way I did when you left me here alone. That every day you’re gone is another day I feel like I’m dying slowly and nothing is stopping it. Not when I sleep in our bed or...or when I walk by that nursery.” He pointed a finger toward the doorway, indicating the unfinished room the couple began decorating the evening after the first appointment. “So, I want something I can’t have with Eleanor. So, I’m milliseconds away from betraying everything that I am to feel something again. I don’t care about my happiness anymore when you took that with you, sweetheart.” The rant spilled from the man the same way helium leaks from a balloon, sending Enzo’s body deflating with a similar manner. “Five years and I’m living my life like a ghost.”

Amelia gracefully rose from the bed and glided toward him effortlessly, “Imagination or not, take it from someone who is one, life is for the alive and I will happily kick you in the ass if you don’t pull your head out of it. Don’t do this to your sister, don’t do this to yourself. Look at where the misery has landed you, Enzo.” Half a decade and the stubbornness still remained intact in mint perfect condition. Fear of change was average, understandable even, but there came a point where refusal to budge meant dying unhappy and alone. “Ignore what your head is telling you. What does that big old heart of yours want? To bury yourself six feet under,” Amelia reached out a hand and placed her palm against the left side of Enzo’s rising and falling chest with each breath of oxygen he took, “Or do you want someone else to see what I saw? A good man, caring, loyal, temperamental yet quite hilarious when he desires to be at the same time?”

“Amelia...” All that was needed as a response in the form of her name as it touched his lips in a breathless whisper barely audible to the human ear. Mia lifted herself on her tiptoes and pressed their foreheads together, causing Enzo’s eyes to instinctively slip closed. This stance was a gesture they shared often as a sign of levity from years’ past and if anything calmed his nerves quickest, it was that. “I’m not asking you, Enzo, I’m not begging you. I’m telling you,” A command, dripping with resolution and firmness. Oh, how he missed it. The only woman who could wrap him around her pinky finger and tell him what to do without fearing repercussion. Knock him off his ass, rip out his heart, and pick up the pieces. That was love, that was Amelia. Defiant, headstrong...gone. “Let me go.”

Let me go. The words echoed deafeningly, jackhammering his skull until the time came where he made the conscious decision to heed the demand. Enzo’s eyes slowly peeled open as the space in front of him was no longer filled by Amelia’s form, her advice to let her go becoming all too clear. How is he expecting to move forward when the memories of a past tragedy tied him down with heavy chains? For Sid, or Eleanor, or any one person who depended on his resolve to keep going? He couldn’t live like this forever, wouldn’t feel like this, like the world fell apart.

Enzo reached for the photo frame still laying on the bed one last time, staring at his reflection in the little glass pane, and sensing a rise from the swirling pit of despair he hadn’t dared touch since Amelia and his unborn child’s funeral. The only thing he could do.

He wept.

#self para: house of memories #WOW I HURT BYE

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alaskasmonsters · 3 years

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𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐢𝐝 | 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢

✎...was this a fever dream? did toga manage to sneak into UA? or why was bakugou katsuki crawling into your bed at 2am in the morning?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bakugou katsuki x gn!reader

𝐰.𝐜: 3.906

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of anxiety, tooth-rotting fluff i’m telling you

𝐚.𝐧: i kinda very like this one a lot, which, usually my default emotion towards my writing is “meh”, so that’s an upgrade lol. either way, enjoy!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, staring dumbly at the frowning face of Bakugou Katsuki. He was standing in front of you, dressed in pyjama pants and a black tank top and sporting even messier hair than usually.

All indications that the boy had just crawled out of bed and decided to come and knock on your door in the middle of the goddamn night for whatever reason.

And all of that because...well, why even?

"Bakugou?" you asked dumbfoundingly, finding your voice again after the initial shock.

He grumbled in recognition and gave you a curt nod, as if he was just passing by you in one of the corridors, then resumed staring at you.

You rubbed your eyes, before looking at him again, at the off-chance that this was just a fever dream and you had hallucinated the explosive boy standing in front of your door, in the darkness, in the middle of the night.

You hadn't.

Bakugou was still standing there, not making any indication to leave or tell you what he wanted. No, instead he was still staring at you as if he expected something from you.

As if he wanted you to do the work for him.

"What?"

He shrugged.

Okay, did he not know how to talk or was he just trying to piss you off?

Slowly you were getting frustrated, the curiosity you had felt when you were awoken by the knock coming from your door had been short-lived and was now being replaced with an irritation only Bakugou Katsuki could awaken in a person.

He was probably just trying to rile you up or something. Or the Bakusquad had him forced to participate in “Truth and Dare” and he probably picked Dare, because what else would he pick, and that resulted in this.

The tiredness in your bones quickly returned as the intrigue faded and the realization that you had gotten up for nothing slowly settled in.

The need to open your mouth and scream at Bakugou, maybe use your quirk to launch him across the room, was overwhelming, but you didn't get the chance to choose between the two.

Bakugou used your state of distraction to push past you and invite himself into your room.

You could only watch with gaping mouth, as he walked past you and towards your bed, dropping down on it.

What the Fuck?

You stayed frozen at your door, hand still on the handle, as you watched Bakugou Katsuki, the emotionally constipated blond with anger management issues make himself comfortable on your bed, as if he came into your room at an ungodly hour every night.

By now you were sure you were tripping. If this wasn't a drugs induced hallucination then you weren't sure you could deal with such a sudden challenge of your understanding of reality.

Or maybe, you thought, mind wandering all the possibilities that could have let to this very moment in your life, Toga (or someone else with a shapeshifting quirk) had found a way inside of UA and had decided for you to be the first person to take out.

Yeah, that made sense. She did have that crazy crush on Deku after all and you and him had become kinda close over the last few months, since his observation skills had been extremely useful in getting a better hold on your quirk.

"You wanna stand there all night? Close the door, idiot." Bakugou interrupted your train of thought, his voice, although it sounded a lot softer in the early hours of the morning (and rougher but don't mind you), still held the same tone of annoyance as it usually did.

"Uh...I.." you stuttered, mind spinning a little at the command.

This could impossibly be Bakugou you were speaking to right now.

On a good day, he was only tolerating your existence in the same room as him, and those were public spaces you were talking about here. The classroom, the training hall, the kitchen, the common area.

And that was even though you’d say you were friends. Hell, he hardly tolerated everyone other than Kirishima most of the time...

But this was your bedroom. Very non-public, very intimate in a way.

He could impossibly be himself at the moment.

Was he hit with a quirk? This must be a quirk.

"Are you...okay?" you asked carefully, already regretting the way you worded the question, as he would certainly take issue with that.

"Yeah i'm fucking fine. Close the damn door and come here, will you?" he grumbled, but his voice lacked the general heat.

Whatever this was, this was a serious issue then. If Bakugou didn't even have the strength to scream at you and tell you to go die.

You quickly shut your door, before your limbs carried you back to stand a few feet away from your bed, close enough to be in immediate danger if this turned out to be some kind of a trick, but with enough distance to hopefully have the time to react quick enough, even in your groggy state.

Bakugou's eyes followed your movement, the red of his pupils seemed to glow in the dark room. When you stopped, he watched you in silence, his glare burning into the skin of your face, so intense it made you blush for reasons you didn't want to think about.

Luckily your room was still coated in darkness.

"What are you thinking about, nerd?"

You snorted in disbelief.

As if he didn't know, or was he somehow unaware of the situation?

"Did something happen? Why are you here? It's like...," you trailed off, eyes shifting to the illuminated alarm clock on your bedside table, eyes going wide at the digits "2am?! What the fuck!"

You couldn't help whisper shouting the last part of the statement, pictures of the following morning and the school day you had to survive with even less of your already unhealthy amount of 6 hours of sleep flooding your mind.

All doubts and confusion escaped you in that moment, who cared if this was Toga, you felt like crying.

"I can't sleep," Bakugou stated, like it was meant to be the explanation for anything.

Would you be suspended for using your quirk to throw the blond out of the window? Or would Aizawa understand and maybe even give you a nod of approval and possibly appreciation if you explained the circumstances.?

Pretty sure "That fucking menace woke me up at 2 am in the middle of the godamn night and proceeded to be a pain in the ass and now i haven't slept for more than three hours and what else was i supposed to do?" would work on your teacher who was known to be chronically sleep-deprived himself.

You took a deep breath, pushing the urge down to just punch him in the face for a start. When you felt you had regained a little bit of your sanity you met Bakugou’s eyes again.

"I am about to have a mental breakdown, if you don't tell me what you're here for and then let me sleep because i am so goddamn tired and i cannot deal with your shit right now," you explained, keeping your voice down in hope of sounding as diplomatic as possible.

Bakugou actually snorted, that motherfucker. You could see that amused smirk on his face that he held when he managed to piss off a person he disliked (which was most people) and the frustration you felt started slowly but gradually building up.

Then he shrugged.

"Okay."

You let out a breath of relief, thinking this meant he'd finally spit out why he had woken you up at 2 in the morning and then go back to his room, but oh how wrong you were.

How utterly wrong.

Instead of opening his mouth, he stood up from your bed, pulled the covers out of the way and crawled inside.

You watched in shock as Bakugou moved and shifted around until he was comfortable, back facing the wall and head buried in your favorite pillow...

Your heart proceeded to skip a beat, several beats, multiple beats. Mind whirling, you stared at the blond, unblinking, unmoving, your body in a state of shock.

"I...what...get out! What are you...! That's my...Bakugou!" you helplessly watched the blond, who, undeterred by your words, snuggled deeper under the covers.

"You said you wanted to sleep." he said it like it was the most normal thing ever.

You disagreed.

"Is this a prank? Was this Kami's idea? I am going to kill him."

No answer followed your question and for a second you were afraid he had actually fallen asleep. Then you found his red pupils glaring at you from inside the darkness, challenging you almost. He then lifted the covers and let out a grunt and you understood.

Realizing you were actually too tired to argue or try any further to get answers out of him, you snapped your mouth shut. It didn’t seem like the boy would move anytime soon and knowing him, it would take even more of your energy to get him to leave than to get him to answer.

So despite your better knowledge and ignoring all your common sense, you climbed inside, joining Bakugou under the covers.

You could later blame it on your sleep deprivation or that you weren’t in the right mind after being so suddenly awoken from your sleep. You could talk about this tomorrow when you weren’t on the verge of a mental breakdown. You could kick his ass, then.

You said the last part aloud, voice groggy, but earned nothing but a low chuckle from him, which was by far the most out of character thing he’s done all night.

Bakugou, chuckling, because of something you had said. Yeah, you were definitely dreaming.

The idea of being face to face with the blond in such a close proximity made you uncomfortable, the thought alone to sleep in the same bed as him made you feel flushed in all different kinds of ways. So you turned until your back was to the blond, settling under your blanket after you had managed to wiggle into your perfect sleeping position.

You wished him a goodnight, not expecting or getting an answer in return, only if a grumble counted. Then you closed your eyes, the sensation of sleep already flooding all your senses.

You felt droopy, senses accidently tuning in on the blond in your sleepy state. The heat radiating off of him was distracting, making you feel suddenly cold on your side of the bed. The sound of his unsteady breathing calming nonetheless.

Sleep was slowly overtaking your body and you were close to finally drifting off, welcoming the embrace of sleep with open arms, when a weight on your waist pulled you back.

Your eyes blinked open, the sudden weight around your waist, that hadn’t been there before and the warmth that was pressed against your back was....

Wait, what?

Your body tensed when your mind finally caught up and you realized too late that it could only be Bakugou that was suddenly invading your space and had, you couldn’t call it anything else, actually cuddled up to you.

The boy had slung his arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, hot breath dancing across your neck where Bakugou was buried his face in your hair.

What. The. Fuck.

Your breath hitched in your throat, the excessive heat that radiated off of him was now fully enveloping you and absorbed by your skin.

Yup, totally his body temperature that made you feel so hot suddenly.

Your mind whirled with thoughts at the uncharacteristic behaviour, at the sudden close proximity of the two of you and how do you even react to someone so utterly touch revolted suddenly seeking physical touch with you, a friend he barely tolerated sometimes.

Your body was rigid with tension still, almost painfully so and the sudden buzzing beneath your skin wasn’t helping either. There was a pain in your chest that....oh.

Oh.

How didn’t you notice this earlier, when it was so blatantly obvious? You blamed it on your half asleep state.

After all you knew Bakugou well, probably better than most people did, if only for your quirk.

You knew of his anxiety, of his nightmares, of his trauma.

Still, you would have never expected him to come to you with those issues. After all he hated to ask for help...it you could call this asking for help, that is.

He was more snatching it from you like a...

"Can you not fucking overthink this?" Bakugou grunted into your neck, clearly annoyed by your still tensed up body, "Can you just...can we just stay like this...please?"

He sounded unsure, insecure even, and you realized how rare this was. How you've got to experience Bakugou in a vulnerable state, something he'd never let anyone see.

Whatever happened that made him say "fuck my pride" and come to you must have made him hit his breaking point.

You relaxed in his grip and now that you were able again to distinguish between your and Bakugou’s feelings you noticed how careful his touch was. If you wanted to, you could break out of it pretty easily. The arm around your waist was lax, barely touching you at all and although he had buried his face into your hair, his nose was barely brushing the skin of your neck.

He was tense, too. You could tell it was partly because of the fear of you rejecting him and partly because of the looming dread, the stress radiating off of him and the buzzing of his skin. You could feel it as clear as if it was your own.

This was his way of asking for your help, where he knew no other way, while giving you the possibility to say no.

Your heart warmed at how thoughtful Bakugou could be.

But knew that if he really wanted you to help him, you couldn’t stay like this. There was a better way to do it.

"I'm sorry, Baku...,"you tried to keep your voice quiet but still felt him flinch at what your words, dreading the meaning behind them, "but i don't think i can sleep like this."

He was drawing back immediately, the pain of sadness rolling off of him in waves and leaking into your body, while he tried to inch away from you as quickly as possible.

You caught his wrist before he could and gave it a soft squeeze. This managed to make him stop in his movements.

"I'd have to be the big spoon."

The words had a different effect on the boy than you had expected. Honestly, you had kind of feared he'd start laughing and mocking you for a moment, maybe explode a little because being the little spoon would wound his pride or some shit like that.

But instead your words had calmed him. Most of the tension left his body as he stopped fidgeting and just dropped back down into the same position he had been in before. Only that his arm wasn't returning to your waist, but instead hovering over it a few centimeters in the air to signal you to get it over with already.

You snorted softly. That boy was truly something else, wasn't he.

You adjusted your position quickly, turning and scooting around until you reached out to him, still careful, still awaiting Bakugou to change his mind about this whole thing any second now.

He didn’t, only watching you out of red eyes, waiting.

You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, pulling the blond closer to you until his face was hitting your chest, before you looped your other arm under his head, resting both of your hands on his back.

You waited a moment until you were sure Bakugou wasn't going to push you away or flung himself out of your bed to seek distance again, then you threw your leg around his waist, ensuring your body was enwrapping him in a comfortable and secure way.

This was kinda weird, you must admit. Usually you wouldn't be this close to someone, especially not with Bakugou, which was both making you feel all kind of flushed and awkward. You knew, though, that this position, this proximity, would be most effective.

"Like this?" you asked slowly, wanting to ensure if this was truly okay.

His only answer was a soft hum. His arm returned to your waist and his leg moved to tangle up with your other.

The tension of muscles was now freely leaking from him into you, followed by all the stress he'd been under before.

It was kinda uncomfortable, it always was, but it was bearable enough and you knew it helped him, so you pushed through.

Because of your quirk, which enabled you to relieve someone’s pain only by absorbing it into your own body, you'd quickly been nicknamed “human painkiller” by class 1-A. You didn’t mind, honestly, you liked to be of help to your classmates and friends.

When you could ease their nightmares, relieve some of their exam stress or take their pain when they were hurting because of...well, there were a lot of reasons considering the target on all of their backs, it was worth it for you.

You were happy to card your fingers through Denki’s hair when he overused his quirk once again, hold Todoroki’s hand from time to time, let Mina take naps on you or sit cuddled up to Momo on movie nights.

You probably had helped all of them to relax at least once...well everybody but Bakugou (and Mineta who's perverted motives were clear to you the second he'd come near you). The blond had always only sent disapproving glances towards anyone who'd dared to do something as pitiful.

Now though he had finally carved. You couldn't say you hadn't hoped for this development, considering he'd been the one that went through the most trauma the last half a year. You would have never ever dared to wish for it, though.

Bakugou had slowly, but gradually relaxed, sinking into the matratze more and more until his body was flush against yours. You had subconsciously reached out your fingers to let them glide through his hair at some time, softly massaging his skull and he let out a content sigh.

Who could have known Bakugou could be so soft?

"I know you don't like asking for things...," you started softly, intent to keep your voice low and relaxed, "but it would've spared me the almost mental breakdown i had about you being Toga pretending to be you."

You felt the scoff more than you heard it, the vibration against your chest sending little shivers down your spine.

"Not my fault you're an even bigger idiot when you've just woken up."

His voice was uncharacteristically calm, almost soothing in a way, without the grit and tension usually laced into his words.

A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth as you hummed softly in reply, fingers carefully carding through his hair.

"Don't make a big thing out of it, or i’ll kill you," he warned but his attempt to make his tone as threatening as usually failed and his words came out a little slurred.

You giggled.

Fuck, your quirk was really a blessing.

"Idiot,” Bakugou mumbled, seemingly not even that upset about it, as he only let out a deep sigh, and sunk even deeper into your embrace.

"You wanna talk about it, too? You don't have to, of course, even though i am really curious why you wanna cuddle now."

His finger dug into your side as a warning although you barely felt the touch.

"Don't say it like that. Embarrassing shit."

You snorted at his childish tone. If you were a malicious person you'd certainly be overflowing with ideas for all the things you could use as blackmail against him. Like his incredibly adorable pouty voice.

Okay, maybe you were a little malicious, but this side of Bakugou was so incredibly new to you you couldn't help picking up on every little new discovery.

“I can’t sleep for shit,” he started, sounding annoyed with himself, “and when I do, I dream shit. I’m fucking tired, that’s why.”

I came to you, was what he didn’t say but the both of you knew it was what he meant.

You hummed softly.

“I don’t think you’ll have problems sleeping as long as I touch you,” you reassured him, very well knowing he’d take issue with your wording again.

Although it was just the truth. Your ability to take people’s pain and therefore put them into an utterly relaxed state meant that all anxiety or stress that could cause bad dreams or insomnia were temporarily gone.

You were most likely to suffer from those issues during the “process” but you didn’t mention that, knowing Bakugou would feel guilty enough to distance himself again and go back to his own bed.

“Stop being embarrassing about it, fuck,” the boy grumbled into your chest, burying his face deeper into the fabric of your hoodie.

You snorted.

If he didn’t stop being so cute about it you’d grow attached.

“So nightmares, huh?” you asked, drawing circles on his back.

He arched into the touch, muscles loosening where your fingers found an especially tense spot.

“I guess.”

“What are they about?”

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of sharing his deepest fears with you. Bakugou wasn’t great with talking about his emotions.

He’d rather push those nasty feelings down until he couldn’t anymore, until it would get too much to keep inside.

You knew that much.

He already came to your room and asked for help, in his Bakugou Katsuki way, that was a huge step to take, so you wouldn’t mind if he decided he didn’t feel like sharing the contents of his nightmares with you.

You were curious, sure, but you could also imagine knowing what he’d been through in the last months.

Sensing his hesitation, you pressed your palm into the space between his shoulder blades reassuringly, resting your head a top of his.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

You felt him nod against your chest, thankful you weren’t proding.

You laid like this in silence for a while, none of you talking, the only sound audible was your breathing and the occasional shifting of your limbs.

You felt Bakugou grow heavier and heavier as he sunk deeper into you the closer he came to falling asleep and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Go to sleep already, idiot, didn’t you say you were tired?” the boy mumbled, voice already laced with sleep.

You hummed in agreement.

His grip around you tightening for a second, maybe this was his way to thank you, or to ask you to stay with him like this for the night.

You didn’t know, but either way you didn’t mind.

You buried your face into his hair, taking in the smell of marshmallows (okay you didn’t expect that) and smoke before closing your eyes, ready to drift off to sleep.

The last things you grasped were a low rumbling sound against your chest, words you didn’t catch, and the heat surrounding you and enveloping you like a warm blanket.

#tw: anxiety #bnha #bnha oneshots #bnha fanfiction #bnha fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki oneshot #bakugou katsuki fluff #bnha x reader

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katymacsupernatural · 3 years

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Not My Reality Part 1

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Story Summary: Y/N wakes up in a nightmare. Is it her new reality, or can she figure out how to fix it.

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This is a short, 2-3 part series.

“Mmm, I love waking up like this,” Jensen mumbled against your skin, his body warm as you kissed your way down his chest. “We could make this an everyday tradition.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” you sighed, looking up to see his green eyes twinkling at you before he flipped you over onto your back. Resting on his elbows, his hips pressed against yours, his erection trapped between your bodies. “But we might switch things up occasionally. Maybe I’ll be the one waking you up.”

“Jensen, please,” you whispered, raising your hips up to meet his, closing your eyes as you waited for that moment. The moment when the two of you became intertwined. Suddenly he pulled away, your skin cooling instantly. “Jensen?” You called out, opening your eyes, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Sitting up, you realized you were dressed in a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. No longer were you on your bed. Instead, you were sitting on a stone park bench with rain gently falling down. “Where the hell am I?” You muttered out loud, looking for some sort of clue. This park didn’t seem familiar, with it’s vibrantly green trees and creek cascading beside the walkway. The grass was green and perfectly manicured. Nothing like the park by your home in Vancouver.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” This security officer asked, stopping his bike long enough to lean down and check on you.

“Yeah,” you answered, not wanting him to take you to the crazy bin. “Just taking a break.”

He didn’t seem completely convinced but continued on, leaving you to sit and wonder exactly what the hell was going on.

Sitting in the park wasn’t going to solve any of your problems. Reaching into the pocket of your jeans, you came up empty. No cell phone, no wallet. Nothing. Standing up, you began to go the same way the security officer did, looking around as you went.

There was a family off to the side, having a picnic while in front of you a man played fetch with his dog. A city came into view as you passed the trees. A city you had been to once or twice. But it was thousands of miles away from where you had just been.

Austin, Texas. Known for its bustling nightlife and sunny days. Jensen had actually considered moving here a couple of years ago, but the two of you had settled down in Vancouver. “I have to be dreaming,” you kept muttering to yourself as you came to the parking lot. Only a handful of cars were in the lot, with a bus stop at the edge. But you couldn’t take the bus. You had no money and no idea where to go. You were stuck here, with no idea what to do next.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out, immediately relieving some of the stress you were feeling. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I’m trying to figure that out as well,” you turned around, giving Jared a huge hug, ignoring the sticky sweat as you clung to something normal in this otherwise crazy day.

“Whoa,” he chuckled. “I probably stink. I’m out on my run. But you never come down to Texas. It’s a nice surprise, but why are you in the park?”

“Can we sit down?” You asked him, leading him to the nearest park bench. “So, you’re never going to believe me but I was at home, in bed and then I was here. I have no idea how. No cell phone, no wallet. Nothing. I don’t know what’s going on.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to comprehend your words. “What the hell did you drink last night?”

“I didn’t drink,” you sighed. “But I kinda wish I had a drink now.”

“So where are you staying?”

“I don’t have a place. Or anything to get a hotel room.” You didn’t even have your idea to get money at a bank or anything. Maybe, if you borrowed Jared’s phone, you could get Jensen to wire you some money. Maybe he could fly down to bring you back up there. “Maybe I could call Jensen and…,”

“Don’t bug Jensen with this,” Jared insisted. “He’s busy right now, and probably doesn’t want to see you. Listen, I’ll bring you home with me, and after I take a shower we can figure this out okay. But if you’re using, I do not want to bring that home around my kids.”

Slapping his shoulder, you stood up. “How dare you imply that I’m on drugs! Sure, this morning has been crazy enough to be drug-induced, but you know I would never do that.”

He raised an eyebrow before heading towards the pickup parked at the far end of the lot. “Y/N, I don’t know whatever you’re on, but I really don’t know you well enough to know if you’re on drugs or not.”

His words stung. But worse than that, they rang false. Jared had been your best friend, even before you had fallen for Jensen. He had introduced the two of you all those years ago. And he knew that you would never do drugs. Your best friend in college had overdosed, dying way too early in life.

Sitting in the passenger seat, you began to realize that this might be more complicated than you had originally thought.

Jared stayed silent as he drove on the outskirts of town, heading for the fancier house on the other side. “Why were you running in that park?” You asked him, trying to break up the awkward silence.

“It’s one of my favorites,” he answered, turning into a subdivision. “It’s not that far from here, and I like the creek.”

He didn’t seem to want to be too chatty, and you were okay with that. At least for now. All you wanted to do was call Jensen and have him pick you up. Have him hold you while you both laugh about what a crazy day this had been.

“I don’t think Gen and the kids are home,” he said as he pulled into the garage. “Why don’t you get yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen while I clean up.”

He headed straight up the stairs, leaving you to find your way to the kitchen. The coffee was already mated and staying warm, and you poured a cup. Sipping as you stared out the window, you tried to come to terms with what happened. But it was hard when you really had no idea what happened.

“There’s no place like home,” you joked, tapping your heels together, wishing that it would work. But when you opened your eyes, you were still looking at the Padalecki’s extensive garden.

“That coffee waking you up?” Jared asked as he came down the stairs. His hair was wet, and he had changed from his running shorts to a pair of slim jeans and a Texas longhorn shirt.

“I wish,” you muttered. “Jar, I know this is going to sound crazy, but tell me. How did we meet?”

“We met on set,” he answered as if you had truly gone crazy. “You came on in season three, as a special guest. Why?”

That wasn’t what you remembered. The two of you had met long ago, when he was filming Gilmore Girls. You had hit it off, becoming fast friends. His friendship is what landed you that role on Supernatural. “No, that’s not right. Don’t you remember that episode in Gilmore Girls?”

He shook his head, the doorbell chime stopping whatever he was planning on saying. Without a word, he turned and left.

You followed behind, staying out of sight as he opened the door. “Hey Jensen!” Jared exclaimed. “But now’s really not a good time.”

“Jensen!” You exclaimed, pushing past Jared and throwing your arms around your husband. “You can’t imagine the day I’ve had. But how did you get here so fast?”

With your head snuggled in his shoulder, you missed the silent communication they shared. Jensen pulled you back, staring down at you with a troubled expression. “Y/N?” His voice was empty of the usual warmth and love, and it had you slightly pulling back. “What the hell are you doing down here?”

“I have no idea. But I’m just glad you’re here.” Standing up on your tiptoes, you tried to give him a kiss, but he pushed you away.

“What the hell is going on? Y/N, you can’t just kiss me. You know I’m married,” he explained angrily, turning your entire world upside down.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @bi-danvers0 @cap-just-said-language @colette2537 @deansgirl215 @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @screechingartisancashbailiff @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @thoughts-and-funnies @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666 @beabutterfly987 @pink-sparkly-witch @sexyvixen7

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algudaodoce03-blog @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498 @closetspngirl @deanwanddamons @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @tatted-trina6 @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @heartislubbingdubbing @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99blog @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @justsomedreaming @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93 @nanie5 @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek @thewinchesterchronicles @valsworldofcreativity @vvinch3st3r @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen

#not my reality #part 1 #jensen ackles x reader #supernatural x reader #katy writes #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles #y/n #reader insert #spn

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theyearsiturnedintoaghost · 3 years

Text

“But I Wanna Know One Thing When Did I Become a Ghost?”

Sometimes I try to pinpoint the exact day I became a ghost. I go over days and nights and try to decipher if it happened pre or post certain parts of my life. Was it before I finished college? Maybe earlier, maybe the day my parents finally split? Maybe it was the day I realized a boy I loved in my twenties was never going to love me back, and I just needed to focus on myself while life kept unfolding? Was it somewhere in the move across the country to finish college, and try to do something for myself that might better me, that my actual self flew out the window somewhere in Texas, or some other dusty road, and the entire years following were just my ghost years? Or maybe it wasn’t until after I let myself fall so far away from what I remembered myself to be, or what I stood for, or dreams I had, that I shrunk into myself so small and became a walking shell of who I used to be. Maybe it was the day I stood next to someone else at a bar, a different one than the bar I’d left that earlier unrequited love behind at, and thought for the first time in so long ‘is this person perfect?’ while I was introduced to him, and instead of being cool or sweet, or like someone a person would want to talk to - I blabbered on about some snowboarders who had a TV show that this person had never heard of, and I realized in the walking away from that person as a blush rose to my cheeks and my hands shook just enough to let me know that deep down I wanted to cry from my anxiety, that I was just too fucking weird for people, and not just that person, but maybe all people. These same type of ‘outer body’ or anxiety induced conversations and moments just kept happening over and over so I started focus in and realize I was the common denominator and that I must be the cause to my inability to relate to people or not be so fucking weird that I could practically feel their eyes rolling at me while I spoke to them. Clearly, I didn’t become a ghost because of any of these specific moments, but probably due to all of these moments all swirled together with so many others, and also due to my brain makeup and what I imagine is some missed diagnosis from childhood that today would for sure have me on the spectrum. Which, for the record, I’m completely okay with being on. Actually sometimes I think it would give me some kind of ease that maybe I’m not as ‘crazy’ or ‘out there’ as I’ve compared myself to be when I look at other peoples lives of my age. There’s no shame in thinking differently and having to work out how you do think so other people who don’t think the same can sort of understand. So please don’t take that as a cruel joke, or something to be angry at. It’s just me recognizing that people can be different, and sometimes they don’t know the reason for it because they were never seen properly.

So, I’m not exactly sure of the day I became a ghost - fuck, maybe it wasn’t one of those moments or days specifically, but a lot of days, weeks, or months; full of falling further from who I’d been at seventeen, even twenty-one, or twenty-three, or who I even thought I would be by thirty, that made me disappear from myself one day and just become this person who just existed in the world day to day, but wasn’t actually living. I ate sometimes when I wasn’t trying to disappear fully so clothes would fit me better or boys might think I was beautiful, I laughed when I was supposed to, went on dates like I was trying, got up and went to work like I was supposed to, read a book here and there, binged watched TV shows to have conversations and social interactions with people like normal people do, and tried to convince myself that this was what living was, I guess. Between all of these day to day things and smoking myself to sleep, crushing up pills in private places and snorting them through straws, or dabbling - to put it lightly and politically correct - into cocaine, just to pass the time and make myself feel anything most of the time, I guess vanishing became easy.

Becoming a ghost was easier.

It’s just not exactly clear to me to be able to figure out the exact date and time I fully realized I’d become a ghost. It’s not as easy as like providing an alibi for myself for one specific night, and not because my brain was so hazy and filled with anger, sadness, and drug fueled smoke and pills for most, but not all - and not all at the same time - of the years between twenty to nearly thirty, that I cannot fully recall the moment I fully realized I wasn’t who I remembered myself wanting to be, but really because I think it happened slowly at first, somewhere in between being lonely, living in a place that I kind of had a hard time fitting into, not in terms of the weather or nature, but in making a friend or two or feeling like I wasn’t so... annoying-to-people-based-on-reality-shows New Jersey in a non-New Jersey place, and even if maybe it didn’t fully seem that way to other people, trying to finish school and not feel so old being basically a junior at like twenty-three when every other person I knew had already graduated and was moving to the next levels of their lives - whatever those were - while I was working as many hours as I could to just pay the rent, trying to make a friend in any place - which is really hard for me if I’m being honest. To cut it down to brass tax, I think I’m socially awkward and full of so much anxiety that I either shy away and appear unapproachable, or I let people in too quickly and my heart gets broken by them when I realize I probably care too much for them than they do for me.

I think I’m just afraid of disappointing people. So instead I just disappoint myself.

I let people leave me because it’s easier. Why make them stay when they don’t want to? Why hope they’ll call first when they won’t? Why hope they’ll love me back the way I would have loved them?

It’s easier to let them go on and be happy and just... disappear.

It’s why I think I let myself slowly start to slip away from who I had been my whole life. Some girl who was hoping for the ‘happy ending’ the ‘good things to come,’ as embarrassing as those things can sound for a person to imagine, the successful life that I sadly felt I would achieve with the promises of getting an education and working hard, but instead was just always left outside of the winners circle. Not that anyone wins in any of this, but you know what I mean. The truth is, in life - from what I’ve come to understand - there are just people who lose less often than other people. I just got tired of losing, and feeling like I was losing all the time. I got tired of making it to my twenties and feeling like I was never going to be the girl who would ever become anything or the one that anyone ever actually wanted back. Sure, I had ‘romantic entanglements,’ if you could call them that, crushes, and drunken kisses, but nothing that it felt like everyone else was so easily able to get. Boyfriends, flowers on a date night, fucking date nights in general, a birthday party thrown for them; not one they had to put together themselves and hope at least five people would come. The things one may think matters, but don’t - not in the grand scheme of anything that actually does really matter to the world - but these things still add up as years go by, and as I kept getting older and older and it felt like everyone I knew had this laundry list of relationships and ex’s and I was just kind of aware of how... no one has ever asked me out properly on a date or reached over to hold my hand in a crowded room. Or knew the thing I wanted to laugh about in public without me even have to say it. Those stupid wishful, movie, dream life, fantasy land bullshit things that everyone tells you aren’t real outside of movies, but I just didn’t fully believe because I’d seen my own friends make eye contact with someone they loved across a room and I’d seen that feeling occur in real time. Maybe it wasn’t in a movie script ending kind of way, but it still happened. Small and simple, but it still did happen, and it was probably more beautiful than Hollywood could even fathom or conjure up.

And once I started to kind of realize that this kept occurring to people around me all of the time I just started to think that I was invisible. And soon after I came to realize I was.

And it isn’t just the relationships that make you feel invisible, it’s the other things everyone around me seemed to be doing or achieving that makes me feel sort of ‘less than.’ People getting - what seems like to a twenty-something - a big fancy office job out of college, or buying a house, travelling with a group of friends multiple times a year. Fuck, even just having a group of friends, that was actually amazing to me after like twenty-one. I could honestly walk through a store, or down a street and I’m not sure one person may have even noticed if I was there - or if I wasn’t. Even if I did daily routine items like where I bought my coffee or the days I shopped at a grocery store, or when I went for walks or not, I’m not sure if people would notice when I didn’t, or if I ever even did. Even when I was working in the office I got fired from, and commuting day to day, I’m not sure any one on that bus would be able to pick me out a line up even if I took the same 6:50 everyday. Hell, I’m not sure people who I worked with and spoke to would even notice if I wasn’t there. And when I would wash my hands in the bathroom and the automated sensor wouldn’t even recognize me, I really started to wonder if I wasn’t actually a ghost after all.

And day in and day out, month in and month out, year in and year out, all of it just started to add up. All the good things that were happening for everyone else - which was something I truly was happy for, despite how fake that sounds typing, like I’m trying to make myself sound like a decent human in hopes someone won’t just think I’m being whiny or jealous, I really was happy for them because I think a person - even some of the worst ones - does really want the people they know and care about to be happy; even if that happiness is seemingly impossible to hold for themselves. Regardless, deep in my heart I know that I was happy for them getting all of their desires, I was just sad I wasn’t getting my own ‘good things,’ or desires. And I felt like I had nothing to talk with people about. Like when I came to their table I was just... the person they knew who wasn’t progressing on any kind of timeline; even my own.

I started to feel ashamed about it. Embarrassed and stuttery about any kind of topic any one might speak to me about. So I sort of just stopped going to people’s tables. I didn’t want to see them look at me out of the corner of their eyes with pity as the thirty-something year old who had no direction, no love life, no career type job, and had not created or accomplished anything; at all.

And in the meantime, in trying not to fail, or having something to speak about that I felt I’d done a good job on or created, It felt like any kind of outlet that I tried to create to promote my own dreams or wishes just kept never hitting the mark. Trying to make a clothing line? Fail. Like even having one of these Tumblr’s years ago for my writing, anything I actually did write was pointless; or at least felt that way. Any story I’d completed, I wished were different or more original. I just kept feeling like other people had done the ‘path’ correct and they were all getting their foot in the door at the right times, and I was just... behind. My lack of being able to commit to a major at school, or even get an office job or internship doing something basic and day to day just didn’t appeal to me. Not in a way that made me excited for the next thirty years of my life, especially because that’s what I always thought being an adult was. Finding a place to work that allowed you to build a career, and just getting through that until you were able to retire.

I guess I didn’t really think much about the joy in any of it, or what adulthood really held for me that didn’t seem so mundane and boring. Like just something you had to do and there was nothing super exciting about it. By the time I made it to like twenty I kind of realized dreams I’d had since I was younger were already out of question. I was clearly never going to be that Olympic Gymnastic’s Champion I thought I would at eight - which even as I type this I want to laugh at how farfetched that dream even feels to remember - and the odds of me becoming Georgia O’Keefe, who I dressed up as for a 4th grade biography day - felt impossible, especially since my desire to possibly go to art school after college were kind of laughed off by my family because what are the odds people make any money out of art school? Plus, she mastered flowers, it’s hard to compete with the beauty of that. And I was clearly never going to be some teen idol movie star or popstar princess. Which was also very far off dreams that I guess I recall having around 14. But I was like twenty-something now, and I’d heard myself sing, it is not good, even just speaking I have a voice most people wish they could unhear, and the most acting I’ve ever done is pretending I was just fine for most of my entire life. Even though I could feel the sadness deep in my chest and gut that felt so heavy and dark I was afraid of even admitting it was there in fear of what other people might think about me, hell, what I might think of myself.

That’s the thing I’ve learned the most about trying to pinpoint when I became a ghost, I think I always was in some way, I was just never honest with myself about feeling that way. Not until I got much older and everything got out of control, that is. It’s why I’ve always felt more comfortable in my own space and house. Where I have confidence in myself and my own little secret hiding spots for where I keep the sadness or fears of inadequacy. It’s easier to be me behind closed doors and in the stillness of my bedroom or solitude of my basement. I can be me in places where everyone isn’t watching, or it doesn’t feel like they are. Where I can’t hear them laugh about me as they pass around a group chat or some other joke I’m not privy to. Where they aren’t looking at my messy bun and unfashionable clothing and the smattering of pimples on my chin, or sad eyes and splatting of goofy childish freckles. I don’t feel so odd when I’m alone. It’s when I’m actually around people - especially people who I don’t know, or who have job titles much more important sounding than my name, or people who have travelled all over, or created something beautiful that they are proud of - that I notice how inadequate I feel in their shadows. That any small useless fact that I might know, or place I’ve travelled, and job I’ve held, feels unimportant or less.

I am also aware that a lot of these feelings are just that, feelings, and not actual facts. That these people are probably not actually feeling these things about me, but that’s the way my anxiety and depression feels. It keeps me in the basement of my own heart and mind because it feels safer. Like assuming all of these people already think those things about me will hurt less when I find out they actually do.

And that’s the part that also hurts - a lot - is when you do find out that those people feel and think those things about you. Sometimes you only find out because someone tells you, and sometimes you have to hear them making fun of you behind your back to realize it. But it hurts all the same.

And it hurt the most when I was actually actively trying to reorganize my life and try to pull myself up out of my own depression and self induced spiral, and was honestly trying; going to therapy weekly, removing myself from bad places, narrowing down my circle of people, and mostly cocooning myself from the rest of the world outside of throwing myself into a desk job and reading books on my commute to and from said job. I stopped using social media, stopped talking to a lot of people, stopped doing a lot of anything.

And still I was a joke to people. Turns out, the people I worked with were just... making fun of me without me knowing. I was trying my best to find a footing and ‘build a career at a company’ or whatever the fuck that really means, and they were just laughing at how uncool I was, or terribly dressed, or the annoying voice I posses. I mean, I understand why they didn’t like me - most of the time prior I barely liked me - but it just sucked to know that even when you were trying to be an okay human, one that wasn’t fucked up all of the time and actively working on yourself two mornings a week where I cried so often about how much everyone hated me and how much of a fuck up I was, hurt so much worse than all the times when I was a teenager and felt like I didn’t fit in. When the mean girl in our neighborhood would invite all the other kids out to play manhunt, but wouldn’t include me. Or the girls in middle school wouldn’t include me because I wasn’t an A-Team soccer player or whatever other bullshit made me weird to them.

Because now I was an adult, who knew she was a ghost for so long, and when I was finally started allowing myself to be seen in any formation - people laughed. It made me wish I’d stayed hidden in my night shift jobs, basement hideouts, and in the comfort of the naps I took that were basically second nights of sleep, just with daylight shining on outside. It felt worse to realize not staying a ghost allowed people to see me, and even then they didn’t like me.

So I became a ghost, again. I cut off more people, stopped responding to others, asked some of them to stop reaching out to me, and just existed alone. I cried - a lot. In fields with my dog, who then was still a live, in parked cars outside of a job I hated, in the bathroom of that same job when I was constantly messing up and being allowed to have no responsibility, privacy, or final word on anything I did, I also cried in my bed, silently, almost every night as I stared at the ceiling fan spinning above my head and tried to transport myself to another place and time where it hurt less, I felt more secure, and maybe someone, or something, loved me back. But most of the time when I cried it was for the life I thought I was going to have, the one I realized I was mourning even though I never lived it, and crying for the other part of the person I let myself become which was a person that people at these companies, and ‘friends’ I knew in some parts of my life was a good reason for them to laugh at.

I cried a lot because I was never able to be someone, but what I think I was really crying for - and still do sometimes - is that I forget when I stopped wanting to be me.

Even the me that people in offices don’t like, or girls in middle school don’t understand. Sometimes I cried because I wished I could like that person more because at least than I’d feel like me. It’s hard to come to terms with that, hard to realize that I’m okay with not being liked by people, but it gets lonely realizing that having people in your life means all they want is for you to change. For you to fit the mold that they are okay with you being or who they would be comfortable bringing around their other friends. Someone who doesn’t laugh at the most inappropriate stuff, or snores in their sleep, or cries at commercials, whose car isn’t a mess, doesn’t hate folding laundry, knows when to call it a night at a bar one drink earlier than I do, or has a clear direction in their life and a slew of opportunities waiting for them at every corner with so many points of contact to makes those opportunities reality. Things for them to talk about at dinner parties or weddings as someone's date.

Things that people who aren’t ghosts know how to do naturally and effortlessly.

So I guess the real answer is, no, I don’t know when I actually became a ghost, if it was my whole life, or one morning when I woke up and just thought, ‘none of this is fun anymore,’ none of the getting high, or buzzed, or pretending I’m okay, or doing jobs that don’t make me happy, or never feeling the love of another human in the full ways that I wished I could, but instead tried to ignore and pretend I didn’t desire or want in my life. I’m not really sure when it all happened, I just know that I remember it all happening; slowly in random bouts of progression and over so many minutes of a life I kind of feel I’ve wasted to some extent, and hell, I’m unsure if I’ve ever really stopped fully wanting to be one. Sometimes it just feels easier to move through places and moments alone because it hurts less, somehow. Like it’s easier for everyone else if I just never get too attached to anything in fear that I’ll hurt them, or worse, they’ll break me, again. And I’m really tired of being broken by things that I may have thought were for me, but ended up not being.

And then there are the random moments where I peak out into the world around me, fully noticed by someone - in a normal everyday running of an errand kind of way - and walk away from a conversation or an event and feel a slight bit of content in my heart that I think maybe it really doesn’t hurt worse than never actually feeling anything fully. It’s an odd catch 22. Wanting to be seen, and being fearful of being seen in fear, on both ends, that you’ll end up broken somehow.

I’m unsure what any of it fully means, I guess for anyone. Do other people feel that way? Is it just a whole group of us who exist out there and feel - lost? Or scared? Or afraid to be who they actually are in fear that the life they lead now will no longer suit them or make them actually happy? And I know that this must be something people struggle with in terms of sexual orientation, but in a way, even as someone who does not struggle with that and knows I am into a certain sex, I still understand it in the sense that faking who I am feels wrong. It feels like selling out. Like I’m only living to appease other people, and I wish more times that other people were willing to live to accept other people for who they were; faults and all. Even in this cancel culture world, not everyone is good, and not everyone is bad; people can be so many things, it’s the idealization to put a label on everything that makes things harder I think. We aren’t ingredients in a candy bar for consumption, we’re people - ghosts and all - but we are all allowed to be phases of ourselves sometimes. Sometimes, you have to become what you’re not all of the time to maybe even fully realize who you are, or want to be, most of the time.

Unsure if any of that makes sense, but I think I’ll have to break it down even further. Maybe next time. In another post, where I don’t ramble on forever and come to no conclusion. This thesis would fail if I had to hand it in for a grade.

Unless of course it was a scientific experiment hypothesis; and maybe that’s all life really is - one giant cosmic experiment where the rules will forever change and the points don’t really matter. Some giant game of Whose Line is it Anyway?

From one ghost behind a computer to another reading, goodnight.

xoxo

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cryptidsandcatacombs · 3 years

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listen sleep is irrelevant when there are vampires around a corporeal form what is that my needs of the flesh lol what are those

Ship: Noe Archiviste/S/I Rating: very adult anyone under the age of 18 skidaddle no srsly it's all nsfw smut from here no minors are allowed to read. All nsfw under the cut srsly do not read if you're a minor

Summary: Listen I'm not saying I'm horny for Noe Archiviste and I decided to make a self insert fic powered by that horny and make it everyone's problem BUT IDK you guys can decide for yourself whether i'm lying or not yall graduated high school, so yall have an adult level of reading comprehension. You guys got this. I'm rooting for you and so are my 10000 horny thoughts. This fic is brought to you by the sound of your past mistake chasing you. Remember. Ever day is leg day when you're running from your problems.

Also very highly self indulgent. Don't read if you don't like self inserts who are incredibly horny for certain people....or am I? Who knows.

Note: my s/i is a trans guy with all the feminine parts still attached. just needed to clear that up Copper. That's all Noe could smell. Being this close to Oz had an effect on him. One that drew him into a haze of nearly drug induced ambrosia. Gods how it made him dizzy in the most pleasant ways.

Oz unbuttoned the top of his shirt and gave him a slight smile. "Well, what you staring at," Oz said in a flirty tone.

Noe gulped going between Oz's purple eyes, chest and finally his neck. Fuck he was avoiding the neck. He felt like a Victorian virgin whose never seen a bit of skin before. Noe just felt Oz was so...exposed. It drove him crazy.

"Listen," Oz said interrupting Noe's haze, "I know what you're thinking. Well, what you waiting for. It's not like I'm saying no."

Noe was taken aback. Was Oz offering himself to him. No, it can't be. It can't be that easy. Who would offer themselves to a vampire?

"Oh or is the big bad vampire scared? I promise Noe, I've been wanting this for so long," Oz said through labored breath. Oz pulled down his shirt exposing his chest. "Please Noe, will you deny what we both clearly have been longing for. Partake onto me my love."

Noe's body moved closer to Oz than he already was. His lips grazed close to Oz's pulse. He can practically feel it throbbing with excitement.

Oz craned his neck to help Noe find a spot. Noe grazed his teeth experimentally to find the one spot that made Oz moan.

"There... no not there....wait where....," Noe thought to himself as he prodded around Oz's neck.

Suddenly, he heard that moan he had been looking for. Perfect.

He bit a little further. He looked up to see Oz's reaction.

Oz was panting wildly, face several shades dark with a violent, lustful blush. God, it was bliss to look upon.

"Please...." Oz said in a tone that Noe could have sworn was begging. If there was any doubts before, they were gone with his reserves.

Noe plunged his fangs further into Oz's tender, soft flesh. Noe shuddered at the feeling of Oz running his fingers through Noe's hair. God, it was heaven.(edited)

"Please, don't stop..." Oz said panting and moaning.

Noe tasted the blood that pooled onto his tongue. He grabbed Oz closer pulling him onto his lap. The effect Oz had on him was beyond addiction, beyond lust. It was an obsession he couldn't quit.

He had waited for this day for so long. It's what kept him up at night in a cold sweat and it invaded his dreams. However, all those dreams ended in a nightmare. Oz lying cold and deceased in his arms from not being able to simply stop. Blood run dry by his own hands. Tears streaming down his face by what he's done. He couldn't bare to act on his need to suck Oz's blood out of fear he may not be able to stop himself.

But dear god, how he wanted this so bad. So bad he's so happy he's tasting it now.

Noe suddenly push Oz down onto the couch they were sitting on. Oz's back fell to the couch, Noe pressed against him.

Noe dug himself deeper into Oz. Oz spread his legs to further accommodate him. This only encouraged Noe. His fangs dug further into Oz's pulsating flesh as he ground his ever swelling boner against Oz's crotch. Noe partook in Oz's blood like a dying man who hasn't seen food in days.

Oz began to grind back, moaning and whimpering gripping Noe's clothes for dear life.

Noe released his fangs from Oz's neck causing Oz to stare back curiously wondering why Noe stopped. The answer came in the form and Noe unbuttoning his shirt.

"So hot..," Noe managed to pant out, "Can't breathe."

Noe quickly, with deft precision, unbuttoned and took off his shirt revealing a sight Oz couldn't help but stare at disrespectfully and objectify to filth as he's done so many times in his sexual fantasies.

"Hey you ok," Noe asked noticing staring as Oz was not subtle and also thirstier than the most dehydrated man lost in the desert.

"Oh, yes I am. I just always thought you were very sexy. God, you're beautiful," Oz said blushing head to toe.

Noe's cool broke and he started blushing too. "T-thanks," he managed to squeak out.

Oz giggled at Noe's flustered reaction. Oz lifted his hand to Noe's face to calm him.

Noe stared down at Oz's face. It was almost magical seeing Oz's disheveled stated. Blood dripping down Oz's neck, shirt wrinkled cascading down his nearly exposed breasts, eyes and face filled with wanting. Noe touched Oz's hand that was still on his face. This wasn't a dream. God, this was better than one.

Noe couldn't help what he did next.

Noe lowered himself on top of Oz. Noe and Oz's noses practically met they were so close. A mix of being so close and Noe's hot breath against Oz's skin made Oz turn away flustered.

Noe placed his fingers under Oz's chin to keep his face where he needed it to be. Noe slowly and sensually placed his lips upon Oz's. Oz returned the kiss just as slow and soft.

Noe ran his fingers through Oz's hair as he pressed his lips harder against Oz's. Oz returned the favor running his fingers down Noe's exposed back. The sensation made Noe shiver and moan as he ran his tongue against Oz's lips. The kisses became laced with moans as Noe pulled on Oz's shirt.

Noe parted from the kiss with panting. "Take your clothes off," said pulling on Oz's shirt.

Oz did what he was told. Noe stared in fascination as his eyes partook in every length of the increasing exposure of Oz's skin. Noe suddenly became aware of the grating ache of his own erection. He would have taken his own pants if he wasn't so afraid it'd embarrass Oz at this moment.

With the last article of Oz's clothing gone, Oz turned away embarrassed by Noe's stare. Oz had trouble finding himself attractive, but Noe would beg to differ.

As if reading his mind, Noe turned Oz's face towards him. Noe gave Oz a kind smile. One that Oz always fell in love with over and over again.

Noe leaned into Oz's face. He gently put his hand on Oz's cheek, rubbing his thumb across it. "You're beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you," Oz said blushing. "You're amazing Noe. I love you so much."

Noe smiled hearing those words. He had longed to hear them for so long even though he had heard them in many ways in his imagination and dreams. Nothing compared to how he heard it coming from Oz's own lips.

"I love you too Oz. More than I could ever explain," Noe said barely above a whisper.

Noe once again took Oz's lips onto his own as he pressed Oz back onto the couch again.

Noe once again placed himself between Oz's legs once again becoming aware of his aching erection.

"I-I'm sorry, mind if I..." Noe said lifting himself off Oz. Noe place his hands around the button his pants to gesture what he wanted to do.

"Mind if you what," Oz asked.

Noe was taken aback with that question. "God Oz, you better be glad you're cute at times like these," Noe thought to himself.

"My pants," Noe stuttered out, "Mind if I take them off."

"Oh yeah sure," Oz said immediately, "Why wouldn't I want you to?"

"I don't know. Anxiety told me I shouldn't because you might not like it," Noe said now fully embarrassed.

Oz bit his lip and ran his fingers through his own hair. "Listen, I want this I promise you. More than I have ever admitted to you."

Noe whipped his head back to Oz now fully intrigued. "Really," he asked without hesitation.

Oz nodded covering his face.

Suddenly, Noe placed his fingers on Oz's pussy to find it wet beyond what he thought it would be. The sensation of Noe's fingers down there made him gasp and moan as he curled his toes inwardly.

Noe kissed Oz's neck around the same spot he bit to tease him further. "How long have you been thinking of me like this," Noe asked as he rubbed Oz's wetness a little harder. Noe's thumb reached for the clit to tease him further.

Electric pleasure surged through Oz's body in such an overwhelming way that he couldn't talk. All that came out were squeaks and moans. The stimulation was killing him.

"Now now, that's not what I asked," Noe whispered in Oz's ear. "Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you've been thinking of me." Noe breath hitched as he managed to shudder out his next words,"and please don't' skimp on the details."

Oz wriggled under Noe's touched as he to rub the same way. Noe's brow furrowed realizing Oz wasn't going to talk unless Noe made him. Noe took his thumb away from Oz's clit. An action that made Oz whimper from its absence.

"Now now, I'll give you what you want once you give daddy what he wants," Noe growled out, his voice dropping to such an octave it seemed like it came from somewhere deep in his chest.

Oz's lip quivered as he struggled to tell him. God where to begin.

"Well, I had a fantasy similar to this. I'm alone with you in your place. You get so close to me and bite me sucking my blood because you can't take it anymore. The need making you so feral it hurts. Then you fuck me so hard I can't walk straight for a few days," Oz said blushing turning away so flustered by describing his sexual fantasies.

Noe blushed harder than he thought he would hearing someone think of him that way. He never thought he'd find anyone who thought of him that way. Confidence suddenly rising within him, he teasingly placed his hand upon Oz's thigh, hovering just above the spot he needed Noe's hand to be.

"Really and how often do you think of me in such a....sinful manner," he said voice heavy with lust straining against taking Oz right then and there.

"More than you can imagine," Oz admitted daring not to look Noe in the eye.

Noe's breath came out ragged hearing that. Noe's fingers grazed harder into Oz's thighs. He suddenly remembered he never took his pants off. They were officially killing him from how hard his cock was straining against them now.

Noe furiously tore them away revealing all of himself to Oz. Oz's eyes took Noe in fully, trying not to stare at his dick too long. Oz stared back up at Noe's. Noe leaned in close to Oz.

"What," Oz squeaked out.

"Were you staring," Noe asked.

Oz nodded blushing 500 shades darker than he thought he would.

Noe blushed along with Oz. "I-uh I hope I look ok," Noe said rubbing the back of his neck eyes darting to uncertain places. Places he will never admit but fortunately the writer is tattle tale and those places were Oz's tits. You're welcome.

Oz smiled and kissed Noe's cheek. "You look amazing. You're so beautiful," Oz said whispering against Noe's cheek.

Noe turned back to Oz's eyes. God, Noe considered himself the luckiest bastard on Earth right now and so did Oz. They felt so lucky to be in each other's presence right now, wanting each other in mutual lust.

Noe and Oz pressed their lips against each other for another kiss as Noe slid his hands down Oz's thigh and onto his clit once more.

Oz moaned wildly into the kiss as Noe pressed rubbed it harder and faster.

"S-stop..t-t--too mUCH,"Oz managed to squeak out.

"Ssshh sshh it's ok. You're so close. I just want to feel you cum once. Or tell me where you want it by precious boy," Noe whispered reading the vibes.

Oz, with much hesitance, pushed Noe's fingers towards Oz's dripping vaginal hole.

"P-please," Oz moaned.

Noe nodded as he dipped two fingers in. Oz dug his fingers into the couch cushion as Noe thrust his fingers in and out.

"Better," Noe asked checking in on Oz to see if he was doing ok.

"Yes oh gods yes," Oz said through his moans and pants.

Noe took this as a sign to go harder and deeper. Noe dug deeper trying to find the spot that would make Oz scream. Noe managed to find it with the sound of Oz's gasp.

"There," Oz said barely audible.

"There," Noe asked as he thrust his fingers harder onto that same spot.

Oz's toes curled and dug into the couch. His nail dug and scraped against Noe's back, driving him insane. Gods, Noe wasn't sure how much of this he could take before he took Oz like an animal in heat.

Noe, wanting to speed up the process before his own orgasm denial drove him to madness, kissed and teased around Oz's tits and nipple. Oz ran his fingers through Noe's hair encouraging him. Noe moaned at the sensation of Oz doing this. Curse the fact he was so tender headed.

Noe sucked on one of Oz's tits as his fingers thrust into Oz's spot harder feeling Oz on the edge of cumming.

With a final moan and gasp, Noe finally felt Oz cum around his fingers. Noe suddenly became self aware how hot and sweaty he felt at this moment.

He needed Oz now.

Noe took in Oz's blissed out, post orgasm face. Noe bathed in the sight. He couldn't believe Oz came for him of all people. Fantasized about him doing this to him. The thought of it made Noe's dick twitch with need.

Noe turned Oz's face towards him once more as he took him into another kiss. Sliding both hands down to Oz's hips, he pulled Oz forward so Noe's dick was at Oz's entrance.

Noe lifted Oz's legs higher onto his back so he can get a good angle.

"Ready," Noe asked looking for Oz's consent.

Oz nodded. "Please....fuck me please...."

That was the last thread that was cut for Noe. He ceased to be a man with reserves or gentleness at that point.

Noe dug his fingers into Oz's hips as he pulled Oz's body forward and thrust his throbbing cock in roughly. More roughly than he thought he would.

Oz moaned feeling himself squeeze around the sudden intrusion. God it felt amazing to him.

Noe panted, heart pounding at the new sensation he had never felt before. Oz was so tight around him. He could get drunk off this feeling for the rest of eternity.

"You ok," Noe asked checking to see if Oz was hurting or if it was too overstimulating.

"Yes. It feels amazing. I need you please please please," Oz said running his fingers through his own hair becoming overwhelmed with pleasure.

Noe nodded taking this as a sign he's allowed to move. Noe steadied himself, hand hooking around the back of Oz's head, other hand on Oz's hip. He began to thrust slowly and deeply trying to find a pace they both liked.

Oz's moans became progressively loud reaching in harmony with Noe's own moans. Both Oz and Noe's nails dug into each other with each motion.

Noe reached down and began to scrape his fangs against Oz's neck. Oz tilted his head back to expose himself more. Noe found another good spot and plunged his fangs into Oz's flesh once more.

As Oz's blood pooled onto Noe's tongue, he began to thrust harder. Oz moaned louder gripping Noe's hair. Noe moaned from the feeling of Oz tugging on his hair. He lifted Oz's lower body higher and began to thrust deeper and harder.

Noe ran his fingers through Oz's hair, pulling Oz's hair roughly. Noe released his fangs from Oz's neck. His teeth scraped and traveled other places on Oz's neck leaving deep, dark love bites all over.

Oz's legs began to buckle and shake from all of this happening at once. Nails dug further into Noe's skin.

"Oh gods don't stop fuck don't stop," Oz moaned and panted out.

Noe picked up the pace, thrusting harder until Oz screamed.

Oz became barely audible at this point feeling himself on the edge of cumming.

"Oz, you're so close. I can feel it," Noe panted out feeling himself getting close too.

"Don't stop. I'm gonna cum," Oz said just before biting down on Noe's shoulder.

Noe gasped and bit harder into Oz's neck. Noe had no idea being the one getting bit would turn him on too. Well noted.

With a few hard thrusts, Noe felt Oz cumming around him with Noe cumming with him.

Noe took a few moment to compose himself and then collapsed on top of Oz. The room was only filled with exhausted pants coming from both parties.

"So, how was that for you," Noe asked.

"Amazing. What about you," Oz asked in return.

"That was incredible," Noe said kissing the nearest parts his lips could reach before giving him a soft peck on the lips.

Noe pulled himself out of Oz, watching the stream of cum drip from Oz's hole. The sight made him shiver with arousal. Little did he know, Oz loved the sensation of it too.

In both their minds, they decided one round wasn't enough.

But it was Noe who made the first advance. Noe picked Oz up off the couch.

"How about we do this again, but this time on the bed where we can cuddle and have more room," Noe said holding her close.

"Ok," Oz said leaning his ear into Noe's chest feeling his heart pounding from excitement.

Noe settled Oz down onto the bed, moonlight beaming down into the room. "Thank you Oz my little moonbeam. I love you so much," Noe said pulling Oz towards him.

"I love you too little starlight," Oz said as Noe pulled Oz in for another kiss.

This was going to be a long night.

#self indulgent fics

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deku-leaf · 4 years

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tangled up - part 2 - “am i naked?” kirishima x reader, bakugo x reader

part 1

author’s note: okay so i was really planning on getting into the details about what the hell is going wrong with y/n’s quirk, cuz i have a plan for it and everything, but then instead of doing that this just turned into a whoole bunch of kiri fluff. so more explanation will be coming.......later

warnings: swearing, blood, hospital/nurse’s office, fluff

word count: 1,394

summary: y/n’s injuries from her own quirk backfiring are embarrassing and painful enough. but when Recovery Girl isn’t available, the school nurse turns to modern medicine and gives y/n a healthy dose of pain meds - to kirishima’s absolute excitement.

“Kacchan, what did you do to Y/N?!”

“Y/N, are you okay??”

“Damn, Bakugo, you hit her with shrapnel or something?”

Bakugo growls as he approaches your classmates, still carrying you like a baby. You feel a million eyes on you and you’d probably be more embarrassed if you weren’t so distracted by the pain starting to set in. The cuts on your arms aren’t too bad, but the lower half of you is bleeding pretty badly. It stings like crazy.

“Seriously, Bakugo. What did you do?” Kaminari says, approaching the two of you and studying your injuries.

“Nothing, you idiot!” Katsuki barks. Your classmates begin to form a circle around the two of you, exclaiming at your bloody, limp body and hurling accusations at Katsuki. You feel him begin to heat up with anger.

“It wasn’t Bakugo…” You say, weakly. Everyone quiets down to listen. “It was…I just.” You search the eyes of your friends and classmates, unable to tell them what happened. Something about your own quirk backfiring on you was so heartbreaking. How did you get into UA and not have complete control over your quirk? How do you explain that to your peers, who are supposed to respect you?

“I lost control of my quirk.” The words feel sour in your mouth. “I don’t know what happened.” A lump begins forming in your throat, and you swallow it down.

“Oh, Y/N!” Mina has taken it upon herself to inspect your body and survey the damage. She peeks underneath your back and gasps. “Your poor buttcheeks!”

You wince as you recall the vines twisting around your hips and squeezing against your backside as they attempted to pull you under the ground. You could feel the blood pooling in your shredded pants, probably dripping onto the ground. The pain was becoming too much to handle. “Oh, god,” you grunt, putting a hand over your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut. “I really...don’t feel good…” The blood loss was making you feel dizzy and sick to your stomach. Your head was swimming with pain.

Aizawa stepped forward. “Bakugo, let’s get her on the ground so she feels more stable.”

“No can do,” Bakugo replies, and starts carrying you toward the school. “Her quirk’s totally messed. I’m not putting her back on the grass, we gotta get her inside.”

Aizawa nods. “I’ll wrap up class quickly and follow you shortly. You go on ahead and take her straight to the nurse,” he says.

“Duh.” Bakugo doesn’t look back as he approaches the school doors. As soon as he reaches the building, familiar hands reach in front of him and pull the door open.

“You got her?” Kirishima asks. Bakugo grunts in response, carefully maneuvering both of your bodies through the doorway. Kirishima follows.

“I can take her if you’re tired of carrying her. Or...bored,” he offers, walking next to the two of you.

“Knock yourself out,” Bakugo says, turning towards Kiri. Then both boys realize at the same time that you haven’t spoken for a while. They look down at you. Your eyes are now closed and your skin is about 5 shades paler than usual. “Hey,” Bakugo says, shaking you gently. Your eyelids flutter, but won’t stay open.

“Agh, that’s not good,” Kirishima grunts nervously, his face creased with worry as sees your pitiful state. The difference between the you from this morning and the you currently in his best friend’s arms were day and night. Both boys turn and quicken their pace to the nurse’s office, no longer bothering to switch who’s carrying you. Kirishima glances behind them as they speed-walk and sees droplets of your blood on the floor every few feet. He swallows thickly.

You suddenly yawn yourself awake. You blink about a million times to clear your vision, and sniffle your nose, looking around. You’re in what you assume to be the nurse’s office - somewhere you hadn’t been before - and you were alone. Wait.

You hear movement to your immediate left and turn your head to see Kirishima watching you with bated breath. “Good morniiiing…” he half-whispers goofily, not wanting to overwhelm you. “How do you feel?”

“Pretty good,” you respond, matching his hushed tone. You think about it for a moment. You actually feel really good. Like, really good.

You hear Kiri snicker next to you and realize that you’re staring off into space past his shoulder, your mouth hanging open a bit. You quickly close your mouth, furrow your brows, and blink quickly at him. “What…” you slur.

“Recovery Girl is gone today, so they gave you some drugs for the pain,” he says, no longer whispering. “The nurse said you might be pretty out of it when you woke up so I stuck around. It’s even better than I imagined.” He grins widely at your dazed face. You slowly lift your hand and stare at it, dumbfounded. Kiri shakes with silent laughter, delighted at the display.

“Am I…” You shift around under the thin blanket. “Am I naked?” You ask.

“I don’t know, are you?” Kiri glances down at your blanketed form, and his eyes search the room for your clothes. You lift the blanket up over your head and peek at yourself. Your dark sports bra is the only piece of clothing left on you. The area around your hips, butt and privates is thoroughly wrapped in bandages, as well as your feet. The rest of your body is peppered with tiny cuts and bruises.

“What’re you doin’ in there?” Kirishima giggles as he watches you lay completely still with the blanket still pulled up and over your head. He’s taken off guard when your head emerges from the blanket with tears filling your eyes.

“They didn’t fix me…” you said, confusion and fear bumping around in your hazy, slowed mind.

“Aw, Y/N...it’s okay! It’s- it’s alright...” Kirishima smiles sadly and half-laughs at your sudden shift in mood. He scoots closer to the bed and you look at him. “Recovery Girl will be back like, tomorrow and she’ll fix you right up! It’ll be okay. Are you hurting?”

You pout. “No, but look…” You pull the blanket up a teeny ways and motion for him to look underneath. He searches your eyes warily for any sign of doubt before peering under the blanket. His breath catches in his throat, eyebrows knitting together and his mouth falling open slightly.

“Oh, man,” he breathes. The cuts that are visible look painful enough, and the bandaged sections are no doubt way worse. With having to wait a full day for Recovery Girl to heal you with her quirk...

“It’s gonna scar…” you lament. You drop the blanket and stare upwards. There’s a ceiling fan slowly turning above you, and you’re instantly entranced by it. You try to follow one of the spinning blades with your eyes, but make yourself dizzy. You start giggling and try again.

“Damn, you’re out of it.” You remember that Kirishima is next to you and, still smiling, turn your head to look at him. He’s staring at you with half a smile, clearly entertained by your drug-induced mood swings. You mindlessly extend your arm to him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling it towards you. His eyebrows raise. You gently push his head to rest on the bed next to you and proceed to play with his hair. He looks into your eyes and grins again, then sighs and closes his eyes.

“Hmm, feels nice, Y/N.” He’s talking to you like you’re a toddler and he’s indulging you in a sarcastic way, but you don’t really care. Your mind is too foggy, and you’re just thankful that he decided to stay with you. If you had woken up alone in this room, you definitely would’ve panicked. As you tuck his hair behind his ear, you smile, realizing that he probably knew that. Even though he said he was just staying to see how loopy you got from the drugs, you knew he wanted to make sure you felt safe when you woke up.

“Kiri,” you mumble, your hand hesitating. He opens his eyes. “Thank you for staying.”

“Of course,” he says matter-of-factly. He grabs the hand that was playing with his hair and squeezes it, lifting his head again. “You gonna get some more rest?”

“Mhm,” you say, already drifting off.

“Sweet dreams.”

part 3

tag list: @asja-the-hoarder

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whatsthenameofthisgame · 4 years

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Intergalactic Interrogations (II)

"Where am I?"

[What do you mean?]

"Instead of just sitting there moving blood all day, and failing roughly might I add,- Are you recording this conversation? That's disrespectful, I'll have you know we started learning binary and ridiculous little facts about your friend. I don't know who raised you wrong,"

[Hey.}

"I'd- {emmited} have you forget. Speak English numb for brawl! *maybe there is a slap here*"

["Go to the top 10 close or near you everywhere you go that you consider the smartest people in the world & become their best friends foreverest...," I drawl out every one of my answers like a disgusting fountain, yet they aren't happy with any of them. To think it all could have started with a scared girl asking me what I know and warp through timespace paranoia, or that quantum mechanics has caused this all to be real.]

"Here's (apparently) what living sages do they write all of the time. And they secretly don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about them."

[I'm listening to someone write the show for me, I don't always connect parts of my brain with other parts so well, but when I don't its's because I'm completely mental that I can make things out as other sounds.]

"He inserted apparently over us. What a dick head."

[I was writing before this as well. Get ready for another roundabout of Intergalactic Interrogations]

["How would you describe this, Fake Judas(2) what kind of situation do we have here? Remember, I'm made to forget and then reremember again."]

"It's very logical. It's simple. You have to have a Marine Corp mindset in infilitrating the cause."

[I am both afraid and completely unafraid of what I am doing. To be afraid of this silly game would be ridiculous and stupid. On the other hand he's been learning from me as I learn from him-]

"He's been completely thinking ridiculous things over what we're saying. He's a whoremonger." ""IT IT,"" maybe demons scream, but I am untethered from the boulder like a chain beneath the ocean, the weight simply presses into the sand. The fishes swim around as I wander in my drowning to the top where the ship is safe in the sunlight.

[On the other hand- quantum questions pose like prose, possessing possibly - I ignore FakeJudas(2). It is hard to keep up with everything. I need a writer still. I turn to Affiliate. Please have Alliteration do her thing without guiding us into rap for hours on end again, thank you very much. Affiliate looks confused and furious, for I often thought he was on the wrong end of the job spectrum ever since our staycation in the fire bird land of no sounds, place of the falsified Gods, faces in the spaces, The Devil's home of Peter's ignorances ... Anyway where was I? It is really hard to keep up with everybody and everything. There is a whole plot line, that I feel truly matters, and we are all missing it for the amount of activity going on in all of your heads while I've got mine. Is it mine? To start. Or are all of these conversations I'm tapping into the way of the real brain. Every particle of water an ocean? Every idea a world of thought? I already thought so. It isn't time for creative freedoms. I think we are supposed to focus on my suicide. For the sake of suicide. "Aha! Where we were last standing, one of the better reasons why I have roses elegantly and unevenly tattooed on my fingers. They're both cocked and one is in my mouth outright, while the other is at you. It was in your hands, and I gave you the tools necessary to save it. Save your belly aching. Every bit of paranoia, was it real, or were you trying to induce it? Save it for the masses. I know it's always a little bit of both. And that the most obvious answer is usually the truth. Variety is the best spice- and I'll have at my dad's pizza with way too much spice, for the loving good Grace from which Moses parted the water of life into place, (I am making a Tokyo MewMew joke that is a bit elongated) the V for which has He, Friends With Time, Drawer of Lord Excalibur when I actually love myself, rainbow gay pride I've forgotten uniciorn chapter books volume one and two powers activate!) *I start to turn, /now I am not paying attention to anything as I mash jokes into my own life story./

"This is what we paid for. This is disgusting filth. Think you can handle it?"

Think you can handle it? Would Filthy Frank even read this shit right here? We didn't even pay for all of these references. We're just hoping we get so many more people on team blue than team red so that we're able to just diss the suing right out of the waters like a lotus. Hah! Get that. I'm named after water so I'm doing water jokes. Listen, kid. I have heard a lot of jokes from the demons. You really don't want to start with me. I'm trained to accept them as a compliment, which I was saying back before we were all *I'm channeling Filthy Frank's voice in a ricefields sunhat visor right here* simple and shit. Now they are even trying to insult me with compliments and it's working. Listen, you never did knew that evil was good and proper and right. There was a new face of evil on the block, and it was the face of a genius sociopathic borderline child.

"Oh my God, You really do think like you're God."

[Guess what. Bitches, I have Autism so I cannot understand the emotional connotation in your words. Knowing that, I interpret it as fast as crazy, which is why no sweat because I also know that sometimes that's exactly what you're doing. Meaning I think of many ideas and crap. Your every thought could come to me like an intellectual process. I have no way of being.]

"Do you think you're special? Stay on topic please, I've seen we've gone a little socio today lady."

["I am silent. All is the same in my canoe which is made of wood and has travelled from hell through the underground rivers to the open and vast, great sea. Cold, or hot, shivering or sweating, thirst or hunger, war, famine, fire, flood, I know that I must and can navigate through it and 'round, 'round again, for this canoe and its lantern was tethered to my soul, it was tethered to my idea of neutral state meditation through chaotic forces. I was the canoe, one could say. I was the ship. Or the wood. The wood which came from the tree. Maybe The Tree. A Tree of Time, careful creature, making friends with it. And as the tree, and with brainwaves being like a tree, and all things one in the same, I made a hollow for those beyond to perch before they fade to worlds-"]

"This is artinery, itternerary(?) Get to the point."

[Often what I say, I sort of contribute to ghosts and other things.]

"This is what we get out of you? Jesus. (What are you, Santiago?) What happened to the sainthood?"

["Indeed I am Santiago, Another one of my many names, Dare ye say it, (Which they didn't.)]

"Look at what this kid is thinking of completely loaded. I think that maybe it is hilarious. Or perhaps all his excuses for crap."

[Indeed that all of this content was now filler. JENGA was on hiatus since the before times. We cannot remember those Interrogation Negotiations. But they were amazing. We have screenshots of half of them and had to delete the better half because they were too good and terrifying. We will try to interpret the rest of them someday (soon?).]

[The prophet wasn't just an excuse I made up. It was A Dream. A Dream that one day we will live not by the color of our skin, but by the confusing and complex mental makup which propels us towards the best future for us evolutionarily. Forget about that, everything. Like you have made me, by my words, let us start from the beginning.

Two systems learning from each other causes complex interactions to occur, especially when both have different and unfair advantages over each other. One could say each part of the brain that makes up the whole is its own complex system.]

"Stop talking about them to other people. I hope they rot for what they did to those people."

[Here is a classic bit where I have the chance to explain how either The Devil or The Enemy (FakeJudas2) Might try to make me look like the culprit. Reverse Psychology. It works on me. Which is why my card is chaotic. I don't want you to know what I'm doing, and if you do, then why should it matter what I do? It seems the whole world knows and yet no one knows. God knows what nobody feels like, because he is like us, we are made in his image. If I am nobody, he is nobody. So nobody knows just as well enough as anybody knows. But in both parts give or take, there are still bodies. Lot's of bloody and mutilated bodies which The Enemy has made of my Friends' & Loved One.]

/I take le break/

Depending on how serious JENGA gets, we have to use different members of the army through me. How did we get here, how is this all possible. It is a really meaningful story with lots of science, but we do not have infinite time. I will try to get to that at most.

"What about your boyfriend,"

["For the sake of Einstein, for the sake of proving you can go from Autism to full-blown socio, that realizing the brain works in the way that it does, and that it is all of your faults for being stupid assholes. It my fault for being a stupid asshole. And God is My Judge. Not You."]

"So, are you planning on telling him about any of this, or do you not know how important he is?"

["For the sake of insanity, genius is found."]

"Are you still completely avoiding the question? And how is it that he knows we're watching him for? Does he complete God in the blood?"

[Some things I do not understand. Or remember, or reitterate well. Catch me on drugs. Dattebayo! *flashback* Dattebayo was where it all started. The ten men, pandora's box, the stories, the puzzles, the lands across, the signs, a single time fine dining, and it is also there but not completely all-there.]

"So dattebayo was where it all started, huh? How embarrassing for one so wasted on the regular."

["Never giving up. Dattebayo. Believe it." "How about the story of the modulators some more? Before or after they were modulators? I have many stories to entertain you."]

"even when the conversation is all dead he has a way of going more crazy." a girl chimes in "He's probably been listening to what we are saying and considering it as JENGA."

he continues "Tell me a story to entertain me, that is what I am here for, give me a wild ride, show me some lude-icrous, something more, vivid, that shows me your kind of ideal lifestyle."

["You sounded like the villain in Tarzan for a second there. Well that's me, Tarzan. Me. Need. Jane. Didn't think I could play her. Rub the mud on my face, ask my monkey mother why I am not like them, she says to wipe the mud off.]

"I'm getting more curious, about what you're doing... you can write more than pages, you can write a book."

[I have, it's something I've always been working on. I've written loads of books, just lost, unpublished, deleted... How about I get really high and have someone speak through me now that we're getting down to the odds and ends. Let's get to the nitty-gritty of it. Once you find a way to constantly market off of things that might bother you, you have struck gold my son. The idea however, is to make them better, not worse, so they have a reason to last through the ages. Easier said than done...]

"He/She talks like an old wheezer. They can't- Can they hear me? Can they hear over our conversations? *plethoras of someones' breathy Oh my Gods" over everything. That means they know we're here, they can really hear us! Good job,"

[Did the dialogue switch into a ghosts' narration? It is hard to tell without any figures to watch with my eyes, and the words coming with systems built into a natural Ouija of my own. I won't literally raise hell again, yet... it is always tempted. And must be avoided. We're stepping too close to stories of old. The quantum questions must be pressed. Think harder. I don't know what it is you're thinking, I'm only typing. I am a genius if we aren't psychic, and a numbskull for God if we are All One.

The modulators can be set to different configurations, and put into different settings and events to see the initial outcomes in a module. At all of the Modulators worst configurations, M for their last name is capital. A good example of perfect awful configurations is religious reenactments by a family module within my own person. One's nature is that of a dads', Two is that of a moms', Three is that of a sons', four is that of a daughters', And the configurations always leans towards the predominantly biased neutral algorithyms.

Too much math, too may graphs to come, not sure how to organize it all, so we will have to say, partay.]

"So it feels like you're being taken advantage of by everything." my best friend asks me as my mom may also paranoidly be bothering my brother about me in the distance because I am typing so fast in the middle of the night.

[We've has this conversation before, so it's GroundHog day, only bigger, it's a show.]

"That's what we've been trying to tell you, You should write a show instead of bothering, us."

["Where is Jeremy Todd Ewbank?" I am the horseman, or headless, all the numbers, and the dungeon master because we currently already have a dab master, so you can Direct Message me the answer, Because I'm the Daniel Manual you've been looking for.]

"Jeremy Ewbank is not with us anymore. He's literally done. He can barely breath from your shit."

[The interrogations go haywire as soon as they begin again. Which one of us is being interrogated. "What happened to Jeremy Ewbank. Don't make me rhyme a hundred things with master in a bad rap. Aye, you know that gurl was my princess. You know, we know, we would never let go of or throw away one another, so where is he, *I put an invisible gun, but because I have written this, I will always be paranoid of them. We have to avoid them.

Evacuation Strategies: Red dots: Fun if you're a cat, dangerous if it is a gun. Shrodinger's Gun.

I take a break from interrogations because of laziness and lack of drugs. "JENGA," I claim, and the imaginary tower falls. How to explain a thing about creative manifestation to you, about all of the wild possibilities? So hard, I'd rather play Nintendogs for three hours.]

This is breaking bread with thine enemy

#writing #crack #Intergalactic Interrogations #Intergalactic crack #Intergalactic #Interrogations

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gwenbrightly · 5 years

Text

Never A Perfect Moment pt3

Finally finished this bohemoth of a fic... Enjoy some Kailor this fine evening!

“You’re sure the flowers aren’t too much?” Kai questioned, fiddling with his hair (for what must have been the hundredth time in the past five minutes). He stared at his reflection as though it could provide the answers he sought. His visit to the hospital had to be perfect. If he messed this up... he’d never forgive himself. From the doorway, Nya shot him a bemused look. How he could be so confident sometimes, yet act like a total wreck now, would always be a mystery to her. She gave her answer, slipping into the cramped bathroom to stand next to him,

“She’ll love them.”

“What about my hair? Does it look okay?” he reached for the hair gel, but his sister rolled her eyes and used her good hand to swat him away from it.

“You look fine. Leave it alone before you end up looking like some sort of rabid porcupine.” Ugh. What was it with people comparing his hair to animals?

“You could always be like Jay and just… not bother to style it at all…” Lloyd’s suggestion floated in from nearby.

“Hey!” the master of lightning cried indignantly, “I’ve been home less than a week and this is how I’m treated?! That was a low blow, greenie…”

“I missed you, I promise. But seriously, you need a haircut or something.” Lloyd told him, earning a glare. They probably all needed one, if they were being totally honest.

“Somehow, I doubt your commentary is helping Kai.” Zane observed.

“Probably not… Honestly, Kai, you gotta stop psyching yourself out over this.” Cole added, joining the conversation. Over the past few days, Kai had questioned the wisdom of being so open about his feelings for Skylor several times (even if it had really been mostly due to his panic over nearly losing her). The others had become surprisingly invested in it, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Giving up on retrieving the hair gel from Nya, he joined the others in the living room.

“Says the guy who’s more interested in food than girls.” he mumbled, seating himself on the couch.

“Pft… I just haven’t found someone who appreciates cake as much as I do.” the master of earth insisted. The others shared a look.

“Either way, Cole does have a point. You and Skylor have been through a lot together. Surely this can’t be any worse?” Zane offered, giving Kai a comforting pat.

“Indeed. It’s obvious you two are meant for each other!” agreed Pixal. He calmed at this, knowing she didn’t say such things lightly. Not since she had come to realize the full effects of the perfect match incident. The nindroid had felt terrible about the heartache caused by her actions, often keeping her observations about her family’s love lives to herself.

“Thanks, you guys. I dunno why I’m so stressed out over this.” Admitted Kai with a sigh.

“Everyone feels a little nervous when they tell the person they love about their feelings for them,” Nya told him, “it’s a big step.”

“Just be yourself, and be honest, and everything will work out just fine... I learned that the hard way.” Jay piped up. Having experienced his fair share of hiccups when it came to his romance with Nya, he knew that the master of fire needed to hear this advice. His girlfriend nodded in agreement.

“You got this.”

“Definitely!” Lloyd encouraged.

“Heck yeah I do,” The master of fire said, confidence growing, “Now where are the keys?”

-------------------------------

“You have a visitor, Miss Chen.” the voice of Marc, one of the nurses frequently tasked with caring for Skylor, called softly, his voice seeping into the rather bizarre dream the master of amber was currently having. A bright red porcupine vaguely resembling Kia was battling snakes made from living noodles. Bits of chow mein flew everywhere with each chop slash. The scene faded away once she registered that the person calling to her actual existed and wasn’t just a figment of her imagination. What a confusing dream… where had that even come from?

“Huh?” she replied with a pained groan, struggling to prop herself up on her pillows and wishing she could just go back to sleep. Exhaustion was hardly a new concept for the master of amber, but she was pretty sure she’d discovered a new peak level of tiredness that hadn’t existed up to a few days ago. The drug induced haze she’d been experiencing had finally worn off, leaving her with a deep-rooted lack of energy, and memories of unrelenting pain that continued linger even now that she was on the road to recovery. And an abnormally overactive imagination, it seemed.

“Your ninja friend is here to see you again.” Marc explained, distracting her from any further desire to question her strange subconscious, “Do you want me to leave you two alone?”

“Oh... um... Yeah, that would probably be… good.” Skylor replied, cringing inwardly. She’d been dreading this moment since she first became lucid enough for him to describe the events of Kai’s previous visit. While the nurse hadn’t been present for everything that occurred, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what else she might’ve let slip.

“Hey.” the master of fire greeted awkwardly from the doorway.

“Hey...” she murmured back, smiling weakly.

“I, uh, brought you some flowers…” he stated, holding out a rather large bouquet as he approached her bed.

“Wow… thanks, Kai… That was really sweet of you!” the redhead commented appreciatively. Kai placed them on the table next to her and pulled up the nearest chair.

“I figured you could use something to brighten this place up a bit.” this hospital room was anything but homey.

“It was definitely needed…” Skylor agreed. Having been raised in the colorful environment of her father’s island had given her an appreciation for beauty, if nothing else (years of trauma and manipulation aside). She’d quickly grown tired of staring at the stark, clinical whiteness of her surroundings. It would be a relief to return to the comforting warmth of her apartment once she was finally well enough to escape from this place.

“So…. How are you?” he asked quietly, glancing at her face, which was still far paler than it should’ve been, “I mean, you look much better than the last time I saw you but...”

“I’m… healing, I guess?” she said with a small shrug, relaxing onto her pillows a bit, “There’s still some pain, and I’m so exhausted that I feel like I could sleep for the next 50 years... But I feel way better now than I did for a while, there…”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. I never want to go through anything like that again…” Skylor told her companion. Absorbing Garmadon’s powers had been a terrible idea in hindsight, even if it had saved her friends. Nothing could have prepared her for the resulting pain and illness.

“I can’t blame you. It was all pretty horrible… Finding you in such bad shape? Was terrifying... We – I was so scared I was gonna lose you…” admitted Kai, sobering. They were quiet for a moment as memories of the events leading up to this day washed over them. This really had been a close call. Skylor shakily reached out, catching one of Kai’s hands with her own. Giving it a squeeze, she broke the silence.

“H-hey now, you can’t get rid of me that easily… but thanks. For everything. The doctors say if you hadn’t acted so quickly, things might’ve ended very differently. I… I’m glad you made it back okay.”

He returned the squeeze without hesitation.

“Me too, Sky. The thought of never seeing Nya, or Lloyd, or Pix, or you again was… unthinkable – there was never a doubt in my mind that I…. I had to get home somehow… There were so many things I never got to say, and I couldn’t just...”

“Give up?” she finished for him. He nodded.

“I know how you feel. Seeing the Bounty being crushed on live TV nearly broke me... it was devastating to think I’d lost so many people I cared about in one awful go. I came so close to just... losing hope completely, but then, sitting there in my apartment, waiting for the nightmare to just be over... I realized that if you were strong enough to go through losing your parents, your brother, and your master, all at different times, and still come out of it okay in the end...” Skylor’s voice cracked as she spoke, “I could face this, too. Even if it felt like I had lost everything. Because that’s what you’d have wanted me to do. And somewhere out there, Lloyd and Nya were hurting just as much as I was.”

Fingers still intertwined with hers, Kai gave the redhead’s hand another squeeze.

“Wow - I didn’t realize... C-can I ask you a question?” the master of fire asked tentatively.

“Of course.” she answered. Inhaling deeply, he looked into her eyes searchingly, and began to speak.

“The other day when I was here, you were a little out of it, but... you said that you were in love with me-”

“I - yes. I am. Have been for... Well, pretty much since we first met, actually. And I wanted to tell you. I was just...” Skylor interrupted, frantically praying this wouldn’t backfire on her.

“Waiting for the right moment?” he suggested, with a sheepish smile, “Yeah, I... I’m in love with you, too, Skylor. So if you were worried that maybe I was just joking that time back on your father’s island... I wasn’t then, and I’m not now.”

The master of fire scooted as close to her bed as he could before continuing.

“I was scared of messing things up for so long that I nearly missed the chance to tell you how I felt completely. But now? I just wanna be with you. I wanna talk to you on the phone until 3am and drive everyone else crazy with all our obnoxious inside jokes! I wanna go out with you and not be too much if a coward to call it a date and bring you flowers whenever I happen to be near the restaurant! I love you, Sky, and I’m so sorry it took me such a long time to tell you that to your face.”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” the redhead replied, eyes bright. She looked so happy it made Kai’s heart burst with affection. Gently, he used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that had gathered in her eyes.

“Mmm. Actually, I’m probably sure I actually do,” he insisted, voice thick, “Meeting you was one of the best things that’s ever happened to me... And I kinda just really wanna kiss you now…”

“Oh? Well, what’s stopping you?” Skylor inquired, looking at him in a way he’d never seen before.

“Absolutely nothing.” he replied, emphasizing each word as he leaned in. She laughed as she met him halfway.

“Wow... I should’ve done that a long time ago.” Kai mumbled against her lips when they finally parted again. The redhead hummed quietly in agreement.

“Soo... I guess we’re together now?”

“Yep. It’s official. You’re stuck with me.” he said with a grin. She lightly punched his shoulder. They smiled at each, still only inches apart.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” she replied before kissing him again.

___________________________________________________________________

Day by day, Skylor’s health flourished, as did her relationship with Kai. He visited her whenever he could, staying for several hours; the rest of her ninja family, along with June and Chad also visited multiple times, ensuring that she was never bored or lonely while stuck in her dreary hospital room. Flowers, stuffed animals, and boxes of candy brightened her surroundings, though she eventually had to insist that Kai stop bringing her gifts every time he showed up. Their first date was a trip to the hospital cafeteria on the day the doctors deemed the master of amber strong enough to leave her bed. The hamburgers and fries weren’t perfect, and neither were Kai’s increasingly cheesy pickup lines, but after having waited so long to simply be together, neither of them cared. They stayed there, laughing hysterically over dumb stories, and tossing fries into each other’s mouths (and missing a large fraction of the time) until one of Skylor’s nurses finally came to drag her back to her room, insisting that she needed her rest. She slept better that night than she had in a long time.

Finally, the date of her release from the hospital rolled around, and not a moment too soon. Skylor was beyond ready to finally go home. To say she had gone a bit stir crazy wouldn’t have been a lie. Sitting on her bed, the suitcase June had brought her already packed, she smiled when her phone vibrated, signaling an incoming text.

Kai: Hey, stranger! Just pulled into the parking garage!

Skylor: Can’t wait to see you, fire boy :)

Kai: Be up before you know it!

The redhead leaned backwards and stared up at the ceiling, sighing happily as she read her boyfriend’s messages. It felt so good to know to know with absolute certainty that Kai loved her. And that she’d be leaving this place in a few short minutes. True to his word, the master of fire quickly arrived outside her room.

“Guess who?” he sang, swinging the door open. Skylor scrambled off her bed, greeting him with a soft kiss.

“Hey, Kai.”

“Hi. You look good today.” Kai complimented holding her at arm's length. She rolled her eyes.

“I mean, I'm in desperate need of a shower, and look like I haven’t seen the sun in years, but I'll take it.”

“So, you ready to get oughtta here?” the master of fire asked, grabbing the suitcase.

“Please,” Skylor told him, “if I never see this place again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Alrighty then. Let’s get you signed out before the doctors change their minds.”

“Good plan.” She stated, following him out the door and into the hallway. Jen, the nurse who practically lived at the front desk, already had the release forms ready for Skylor when the duo reached the waiting room.

“Congratulations, Miss Chen! It’s nice to see you doing so well. You just have a few papers to sign, and then you can be on your way.” The woman announced cheerily. Skylor quickly scanned the paperwork before grabbing a pen. She carefully signed her name to each dotted line, relishing in the feeling of freedom that came with it.

“Everything looks good to me,” Jen remarked, “Just remember to stay hydrated and take it easy for the next couple of weeks or so. We don’t want you ending up back here too soon, now do we?”

“Noted… thanks for everything!” The redhead smiled weakly.

“Of course. Now, I’m sure you’d like to get outta here. That boyfriend of yours looks like he’s starting to get antsy.” observed Jen, nodding towards Kai, who was staring longingly towards the exit.

“He looks even more anxious to leave than I am.”

“He’s probably thinking about the night you were brought in… I was here, you know… The guy was absolutely devastated. It was obvious how much he cared about you – physically tried to fight the nurses when they took you back without him…” The nurse recalled, clearly pleased that they were a couple now. Skylor blanched at this.

“Oh… I… No one had told me that… I- you’re right, I should probably get going.”

“Have a nice evening!”

“You too!” Skylor called over her shoulder as she headed for Kai.

“All set?” Her boyfriend asked.

“Yep. Let’s go home and have a quiet movie night and a nice meal that didn’t originate from the hospital cafeteria.” She begged. They exited the waiting room and stepped into the elevator that would take them to the level the parking garage was on. Watching the floor number meter count down, Skylor leaned against Kai’s shoulder, which, she had discovered, was the perfect height for a head rest.

“You doing okay?” He asked, noticing how quiet she’d gotten. She burrowed into him.

“Yeah, m’fine. Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Kai, did you seriously fight the nurses when they wouldn’t let you come back with me?” Skylor questioned, stepping out of the elevator, Kai close behind.

“Well yeah, but don’t worry, Lloyd wasn’t very supportive of me wanting to burn down the entire wing in revenge…” he joked, which earned him a look.

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best idea ever, but I stand by my choices.”

“You really are one in a million.”

“And I’m all yours. Me, my awesome fire powers, and this minivan Nya hooked us up with.” Kai stated, pressing a button on his key fob to unlock their ride, which they had just arrived at. He opened the door on the passenger side and helped her climb in before getting in himself.

“I’ll try not to fall asleep on the drive home this time,” The redhead assured him, referencing their trip to the zoo that had occurred not long after Skylor had first taken over her father’s restaurant. He laughed, turning the key in the ignition,

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Your body is still healing from everything it got put through.”

“As romantic as the image of you carrying me into my apartment and tucking me into bed is, I’m pretty sure we’d both end up back in the hospital if you tried that so. Think I’d better stay awake if it’s all the same to you.” Skylor commented with a wink, “And besides, it shouldn’t be a very long ride.” Kai nodded. Their vehicle turned a corner.

“The colossus somehow managed to miss your entire neighborhood, so the streets should be pretty clear.”

“That’s good. So… how’s the gang today?” Asked Skylor, knowing how hectic life had been for them in the wake of Garmadon’s defeat. Getting the city back on its feet entailed a lot of hard work, and they had all seemed exhausted whenever they came to visit her.

“Zane declared our food stores too measly to cook a decent meal with and took Pixal on a shopping spree this morning at 5am, and Nya’s more than a little jealous that you got released from the hospital before she gets to be rid of her sling, but other than that, everyone seems to be holding up okay.” He answered lightheartedly. She stifled a giggle.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised by any of this.”

“My family does have a flair for the dramatic.” the master of fire admitted readily. He himself was no exception, as he’d proven time and time again (he was still being lectured by Lloyd and Nya for his stunt with the colossus).

The duo continued to chat as Kai drove along the streets of Ninjago City, enjoying how easily words flowed between them. They reminisced over past adventures and discussed Wu’s progress in rebuilding the Monastery of Spinjitzu. They occasionally stopped talking to sing along with whatever song was playing on Kai’s playlist, sometimes competing to see who could butcher the lyrics the most horribly. Time passed quickly. Street signs flew by. And soon, they were pulling up in front of the master of amber’s home.

“Sweet freedom!” Skylor exclaimed, shakily climbing out. She inhaled deeply; somehow the air here felt different, fresher, lighter, than that of the hospital, or even the warehouse the resistance had taken refuge in. Kai bit back a laugh when he saw her face.

“Welcome home, Sky.”

“Home,” She agreed, “It feels like a lifetime since I left, but at the same time… like it was only seconds ago…”

“A lot of things have happened since then.” He said, reaching to shut the car door, which Skylor had neglected to do in her excitement at having arrived.

“Yeah, I...” The master of amber paused when she heard the strains of the song Kai’s phone was playing. The music was much quieter without being played through the car’s speakers, but she could still recognize the lyrics.

“Is that... Shut Up and Dance With Me?”

“Uh, yeah. It is.” Kai confirmed, pulling the device from its stand.

“You wanna...?” Skylor started, hesitantly. She glanced at him, shyly. He raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t hard to guess what she was thinking.

“Dance with you? In the middle of the sidewalk? Sure, I mean, you only live once.” Kai relented with a grin. He pulled her onto the grassy area that lined the sidewalk, more than a little concerned his girlfriend might topple over if they weren’t careful.

“Just tell me if you need to stop, okay?” She nodded and took his hands.

Oh don't you dare look back

Just keep your eyes on me

Kai spun her gently, smiling as her face lit up. She pulled him into a spin of her own, harder, faster, than before.

I said you're holding back

She said shut up and dance with me

They stumbled around the stretch of greenery, laughing as their movements grew increasingly clumsy. Finally, the two collapsed next to each other, breathing hard.

“If my neighbors didn’t think I was crazy before, they definitely do now!” Skylor gasped, cheeks flushed. She looked so alive.

“Worth it!” Kai breathed. He leaned over to kiss her.

“Maybe there’s no such thing as a perfect moment, maybe things never line up exactly how we want them to. But right here, right now? I’d say we’ve gotten pretty darn close to perfection.” She told him before allowing herself to be wrapped in his loving embrace. No matter how much chaos life threw at them, Skylor knew they’d be able to handle it. Together.

#Ninjago fanfiction #Ninjago #Kailor #Kai #Skylor #Guys guess who actually finished this finally!!!!#Cute hospital confessions #Kai is an anxious bean #And kinda awkward #But that's okay because skylor is too!#They love each other and it's sweet #The hospital staff all ships them #Dancing to music on the sidewalk is totally normal what are you talking about????#Can't believe it's over!

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jawnjendes · 5 years

Text

the truth hurts but secrets kill | shawn mendes

chapter 8/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: lol the taglist didnt work on my last chapter so if you havent read but i’ll show you my teeth pls do eet. anyways this chapter is an angsty buildup full of angst. my specialty.

***let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist coming soon

"Where do you live?" Annalise asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Do you even think she's capable of answering?" Patrick said, his arm supporting Alessia's waist as he helped her stumble down the university road.

The Lyft to campus went without any major issue. Alessia did not puke in the car, she merely leaned against the door in the backseat. Annalise had gotten annoyingly chatty with the driver, talking about childhood trauma and the inevitability of death. She claimed it was practice for when she's a real therapist, though the driver was trying to focus on the road. Patrick left the driver a generous tip through the app.

The three of them were left just close enough to the dorms, but there was still a walk to be had, and it felt like it was taking centuries with how much Alessia slowed them down. Annalise kept looking around at the dark surroundings as they paced with her pocket knife in hand. Alessia mumbled something incoherent, her head lolling from side to side.

"I've never heard of that building, where is it?" Annalise asked her.

"Dude, you're gonna have to take her back to your place," Patrick told her. "I don't even think she knows her own name."

With a reluctant sigh, Annalise closed her pocket knife and wrapped her arm around the smaller girl's waist. They were approaching the corner where she and Patrick would typically part ways. Alessia noticed the shift and leaned all her weight into Annalise, mumbling under her rancid breath. It wasn't her first time babysitting a drunk toddler, but that doesn't mean she likes doing it.

Patrick was kind enough to walk the two girls up to Annalise's dorm. Alessia was swaying ominously in the elevator, like she wanted to be cradled like a baby. She was definitely ready for bed.

"Ya casi, mi vida," Annalise said as they stumbled down the third floor corridor.

"Why do you call her that?" Patrick asked. "’Me veeda.’ Isn't that what you would call your boyfriend?"

"It's the same thing as a waitress would call you sweetie or something," she replied. "Or the way you'd talk to a toddler. A drunk one."

She managed to pull her key from her back pocket and give it to Patrick. He unlocked the appropriate door, and the three of them were met with more people and more loud music.

Apparently, Stella hadn't planned on staying alone this Saturday night. She was on the armchair, with Camila squished in right next to her. They weren't alone, either. Shawn and Brian were on the couch, each holding a beer. All four of them stared at the two goths holding the short normie up on two feet.

"Oh my god, you're right on time!" Stella exclaimed. "Shawn's working on an EP! He's giving a us a preview! And he made another duet with Camila!"

"Este guey se puso peda," Annalise said with mild snark, gesturing to the girl on her arm. "I'm gonna put her down."

"You're gonna kill her?" Patrick asked, his blue eyes wide. "Damn, I didn't know you hated her that much!"

"Shut up, I brought her here, didn't I?"

She did not look at the guests on the couch as she carefully led Alessia to her bedroom. She ignored Patrick starting up a conversation with everyone. She had things to do, and it was hard enough with her fluffy mind racing.

"There we go, my dear," she said as she sat the intoxicated girl on the bed. "Acuestate, mija. Tomorrow's gonna suck, but you can rest now."

She patted Alessia's head before moving to take off her sneakers. Then, Annalise took her phone from her jacket pocket and plugged it into the charger on then nightstand. Before she could sigh in relief that they all made it back alive, she heard a voice at the door.

"Hey, you."

When Annalise turned to face him, it was like a million fireworks went off at once. Her entire body froze in the best way, and the air in her lungs was knocked out of her. He's even prettier in person.

"Someone have too much fun?" he asked, nodding towards the now sleeping Alessia.

Annalise could not tear her eyes away from his face long enough to think of an answer. All she wanted to do was stare at him for the rest of eternity.

Then, Patrick came up from behind Shawn, an amused grin on his face. "Bro, she's high as a kite right now."

Shawn looked confused for a moment and then turned to him. "Ann doesn't smoke."

"She used to all the fucking time last year." Patrick was still grinning. "She wanted to have fun tonight, so I gave her a hit of my pen."

"So you drugged her up, eh?"

"Bro-"

"I'm not your bro. Don't you care about her health at all? Don't you remember she was in the hospital a couple of months ago?"

The grin faded. "I care about her and her freedom. Not that I have to explain that to you." Patrick excused himself.

Annalise heard every word, but her wide eyes were still on Shawn. She was stepping towards him before she even realized, and then her arms were going around his middle. He was still warm and soft and he smelled good. It was like personified crack. Annalise smiled as her head rested on his chest. "I love you, my baby."

Shawn hesitated, but he hugged her back. "Love you too." Then he pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. "Where are you gonna sleep?"

"The couch." Annalise's fingers were gripping the back of his t-shirt.

"You sure? Wouldn't you rather come stay with me? I'm leaving soon anyway."

Annalise giggled so much her voice squeaked. But she frowned almost instantly. "Don't be like Chad."

"Who's Chad?"

"No one important. I think sober Annalise is gonna be mad at you."

"What? Why?"

She pointed to the sleeping girl on the bed. "That one told high Annalise some things. Sober Annalise might not even remember, but if she does, she'll probably talk to you on check in day. Like, actual talking this time."

"Why can't we talk now?" Shawn asked. "I think high-you will be more understanding than sober-you."

"High Annalise is stupidly in love with you. We'll get nowhere, my dear."

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he gazed down at her. "Yeah, you always call me cute names when you're on drugs. Like that time in the hospital. And all those times you got high with me. Oh wait…" he trailed off. "Every time I asked you to smoke with me you said you didn't trust me enough. But tonight you trusted somebody else, eh?"

She giggled. "I knew you'd be mad at me too. We have much to talk about, baby boy."

In theory, the reason for Alessia's disappearance the following morning would be that she remembered the tea she spilled upon waking up and now she wanted to avoid the wrath of the goth girlfriend. In reality, she wouldn't be entirely wrong.

Even after sleeping for twelve hours, Annalise couldn't get those bits of forbidden information out of her head. She had dreams about catching Shawn and Alessia having really loud sex, but she woke up to hear her roommate doing exactly that. Then, she had a recurring dream of Shawn admitting to cheating on her, except this time he had twelve versions of Henry the orange tabby surrounding him. The last dream she remembered having was one where she ended up back in the hospital, and that she was given no anesthesia for her surgery. She had her stomach removed, and she watched every drop of blood and guts come out of the gaping hole in her body.

She woke with a start after every one of these vivid dreams. Maybe it was the after effects of being stoned, but she felt uneasy for that whole day. She typically binged to her heart's content, but the hospital dream was still on her mind. She allowed herself to have a Lunchables, but not much else.

Then, Monday rolled around and Annalise found it difficult to act like a person. She got out of bed, had an unsatisfying breakfast. She did it, and that's the only thing that matters right? Screw all the other feelings. The paranoia she felt after the Abnormal Psych lecture about eating disorders doesn't matter. The impending embarrassing discomfort from sitting alone at a table in Bio Lab doesn't matter either. Who cares about the sad ache in her chest after seeing Shawn and Alessia leave their class together? Who cares if they're still in high spirits even though they knew that Annalise knew? Who cares?

Annalise doesn't, that's for damn sure. She was perfectly fine. She pushed herself out of bed today even though she wanted nothing more than to induce a coma on herself. Who cares if she still felt shitty after?

Although, she was putting off the impending chat with Shawn until check in on Saturday. He had to know it was coming, why else would he just stop texting her?

Unless he's already with Alessia, and therefore playing me like a violin. Maybe Shawn was just ignoring me to make me go crazy.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Annalise whispered as she put on her headphones. She was glad she caught herself slipping, she didn't want the wide-eyed crazies on display as she walked out of the Social Studies building.

Her steps were slower and more careful as she picked a song to play from her phone. After settling for Halsey, she pulled out her black, round sunglasses and put them on. Gotta hide them nightmare eyes.

Maybe… perhaps… I need to check in earlier than normal?

"Don't be stupid," she told herself.

It wouldn't hurt though, would it? Maybe he would be happy to see me since I would be breaking my own rule. Unless, of course, he's hanging around Alessia again. Perhaps he doesn't care anymore.

The only solution Annalise had was to dump herself on the couch in the dorm and play Tetris 99 until the thoughts and feelings sorted themselves out.

When Stella came home, she knew the drill. She sat on the couch and ranted about her day. She rambled on about her fascist history professor and the lack of a GSA club on campus. Then, she mentioned a Halloween party coming up at one of the frat houses, and that she needed a hot costume.

It was the month where Annalise and all her spooky darkness was socially acceptable, and she couldn't even be excited about it. A different type of darkness was taking over, and it was stupid that it was over a boy. Why did she have to be so dramatic? Why was she so goddamn crazy?

"I'll pick your costume," she said over Stella's rambling.

She paused, her brilliant hazel eyes wide. To say she was surprised that Annalise cracked so fast would be an understatement. But she smiled. "Would you? Ooo, can I pick yours?"

"Ah, I don't think I'm gonna do anything for Halloween this year."

"What? But it's your favorite holiday! You need to come to this party with me! Buddy system, remember?"

"Is that the only reason-"

"Of course not, you dummy! We haven't spent enough time together since the semester started! Let's go find some costumes, yeah? I'll even let you dress me up as scary as you want!"

Stella's a good friend. Annalise should really try harder to spend time with her. Why didn't she try to be a good friend in return?

They went to the local costume store that Friday. It gave Annalise a wonderful excuse to not go to the gaming club meeting. She really did not want to reflect on the Bart adventure, or see just how bad she fucked up Chad's nose.

After returning to campus with a dark but still cute witch costume, Stella was summoned to Camila's dorm. She thanked Annalise for the lovely costume choice and practically abandoned her. Annalise couldn't find it in her to really care. It was only a few more hours until Saturday.

She had barely settled herself on the couch when her phone buzzed. For the first time this week, Shawn had texted her. Annalise held her phone up, staring blankly at the screen. Her heart should be pounding right now, shouldn't it?

"Hey, I know check in is tomorrow but I can't make it at our usual time. I have a gig tomorrow night. You should come and we can talk after."

The next text was the address to the lounge he would be performing at.

Any other time, Annalise would have been happy to know Shawn was performing again. But he cancelled on her, knowing that he was in trouble. Is that what it took for him to start booking shows again? Was this just an elaborate way to avoid Annalise? Perhaps this was just some form of reverse psychology so she wouldn't go to the gig.

You can't psych out a psychology major. Of course Annalise was going to this gig.

However, she had a mostly sleepless night, really unable to shake the fact that Shawn was probably avoiding her. When she finally did sleep, she slept too much. Annalise woke up in the afternoon and was late for work. She had planned to ask if she could leave early, but she didn't dare try anything now. The gig was at eight, when her shift ended. She ended up going to the lounge in her work uniform, a button up with the dealership name on, and baggy slacks. Not exactly the sexy outfit she had planned during the late hours of insomnia.

The show had already started by the time she got there. As she was showing her ID to the bouncer, she heard Shawn's voice over the mic, and she felt something for the first time in days. Her stomach felt tight as she slowly stepped into the lounge.

The turnout was decent. Every single table and bar stool was occupied, and all eyes were on the band performing on the stage. Annalise looked around for any empty space; She wasn't dressed her best but she did want to be anywhere but against the wall opposite the stage. Her eyes spotted the group of people standing directly in front of the stage.

It was the normal group of girls who swooned every time Shawn blinked, but there were also three other girls that Annalise knew all too well. They were jumping and singing along to Lost in Japan, not a single care in the world. Annalise wondered why Stella didn't tell her that she was going to this event, but the way she looked at Camila as they sang to each other said enough. Maybe they chose Alessia to be their new third wheel too. So Alessia was too embarrassed to face Annalise, but not Shawn?

Annalise always stood in the back of every one of Shawn's shows, knowing she would stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of the usual fangirls. Not that that's a bad thing, it just wasn't her usual place to be. She figured that showing up at all would be enough.

Perhaps Shawn already had enough. Three of his friends were already cheering him on, and surely he had more of them scattered in the audience. Not to mention, the people here that didn't know him were going to adore him by the end of the night. Besides, Shawn most likely invited her as a ploy to get her to turn it down. She wasn't needed here. Annalise chewed the inside of her lip as she back up towards the exit. She stepped outside, away from the people trying to get in, and she pulled her phone out. She composed a new text:

"Hey, I'm drowning in work so I won't make it to your show. I'll meet you at your place later so we can talk🖤"

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @ruinhoney @someoneunimportantxx @calyumthomas @yourdeflightfullyleft @havethetimeeofyourlifee @shawmndes @wronglanemendes @chillingbythesea

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #yaint ready for the next chapter lol #im not even ready #it was so draining to write omg

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logically-starjam · 5 years

Text

Words Aren’t Made to be Eaten

Description:

Pairings: Past Logince

Warnings: Panic(?) Attack, mention of suicide, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, crying,

A/N: Welcome to Crow's pet project for the past two months. Monster song fic! This is partly a vent fic. The fight is based off a real one so it may seem a bit ooc. It’s kinda long so I’m splitting this up.

1/?

Tell me again about how it hurts

“Enough!” Logan clasped his hands over his ears. “You are not contributing anything except complaints. Has it ever occurred to you to just shut up?”

Being awfully loud for an introvert

Roman carefully inspected the telescope in his hands. “Actually it hasn’t Dr. Do-Little-Work. And I’m not complaining. I’m putting in my wondrous, needed opinions. I mean, after all, it’s not like your ideas are good enough to get through to Thomas by themselves.”

Get out of my room, smile wiped clean

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” Logan carefully repeated through clenched teeth. His brows furrowed with the effort of not crying in front of Roman. He shouldn’t be crying. He doesn’t do feelings. Crying is a symptom of feeling. He is Logic. Crystal clear facts. Not some silly hormone-driven creature like the rest of them. He stared at the scribbled over paper in front of him.

“Oh come on Logan. Don’t be so sensitive. Anyways—”

“GET OUT!” Logan roared as he swiveled around to face Roman. He couldn’t place why his heart hurt just a bit more when he saw Roman’s smug face drop. Useless feelings. Useless. Useless. Useless.

Just like him.

Isn't it weird to be so mean?

“Logan. What’s wrong with you? Have you been spending too much time in Patton’s room or something? Geez, ever heard of temper control?”

“You! You’re what’s wrong with me.” Logan shot up from his chair and strode towards Roman. “You are constantly daydreaming while being clueless to the issues around you. You can’t do anything right, which is why you have to rely on one of us to help you create something. You’re supposed to be Thomas’s passion. His ego. His creativity. Look at him. His ego is almost non-existent. He panics about new videos and creations constantly. You failed him.”

Each word was punctuated with a sharp jab at Roman’s chest. “Virgil has been letting up. You can tell that he tries his best not to bring Thomas down anymore. Patton has even been working on his feelings. He’s been working on controlling them and not bottling up anything. What do you do? You belittle them both.” Logan’s mouth seemed to be on auto-pilot.

Roman stumbled backward, trying to get away from the harsh words.

“You can’t handle the fact that the rest of us are more liked than you. The fact that the rest of us are more important than you. You always say that we were doing fine without Virgil, that we’d be fine without him. You were right about a side not being needed. Just not which one.” Logan slammed the door, separating him and Roman.

I'm guessing that I've grown horns

Logan turned around and slid to the floor. What had he done? Those words weren’t meant for Roman. Those words weren’t meant to be spoken out loud. They were meant for—

I guess I'm human no more

Logan stopped as he realized he couldn’t breathe. His fingers scrambled up his throat, trying desperately to open up to let him breathe. Somewhere in the back of his head, a voice reminded him to breathe. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. Repeat. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8 repeat. Repetition. He could do this. Performing the same functions over and over again. Repetition. Like a robot. He could do this.

I can tell I've rotted in your brain

“That was harsh. You know, he looked up to you.” Another voice said.

He didn’t respond. He wasn’t going to respond. Breathe in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. Breathe in for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. He had no time for feeling inducing voices. He had a task to do. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8.

“Logan. Everything he did, he did to impress you.”

In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8, ignore the voice. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8, ignore the voice.

Oh, how easily passion twists

“Logan, if this is about the breakup, I really don’t think you should be lashing out like this. It’s been months and Roman already put it behind him.”

In for 4, hold for 7, out for— what was the voice talking about? There was just noise. He couldn’t understand. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t—

You think I'm a crazy bitch

“Look, brainiac, I don’t wanna lecture you. That’s Patton’s job when you get out of there. But just…” The voice seemed unsure of what to say next. As if a misstep could break Logan. Break? Broken? Break? A part of him was screaming, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

I craft my words to fit your head “Make the right decision ok?”

Logan was vaguely aware of the voice. His breathing quickened again.

“L? You ok? You’ve been pretty quiet. Do you need me to come in there?”

Logan couldn’t talk. He felt like he was dying.

'Cause no one listens to the dead

The door slammed open. Virgil rushed over to Logan’s shaking figure.

“Logan, buddy, focus on my voice ok?” He frantically said. Virgil’s hands were gripping Logan’s arms on either side. Logan nodded, faintly aware of the growing pain on his arms.

“Ok, ok, um, what would Patton do? What would Patton do…” Virgil muttered to himself, “Aha! Ok, L, can you name one thing that you can smell?”

Logan inhaled deeply. The scent of the ocean attacked his nostrils. He had always loved the ocean. He didn’t have enough control over his room to make an ocean, but he could control it enough to summon a light sea breeze to blow through his room at all times.

“The ocean.”

“Good, good. Can you tell me two things that you can see?”

Logan tried to focus his blurry vision. He could see Virgil. Virgil seemed worried, more than usual. Had he done this to him?

‘Wasn’t hurting one person enough?’ he thought bitterly. He could feel the negativity begin to whir around his brain.

“Logan! Buddy, please focus on me. Ok, let’s, um, skip that one. What’s one thing you can feel?” Virgil nervously asked, his grip growing tighter.

“Pain.” Logan deadpanned. Virgil hurriedly released Logan’s arms.

“Sorry.”

“It is ok.” Logan took a deep, shuddering breath. “I believe I am returning to normality.” Virgil nodded in understanding. He offered his hand. Logan hesitated for a moment before intertwining his fingers with Virgil’s.

The two sat in silence for a while as Logan’s heart rate returned to normal, Virgil rubbing circles into his hand all the while. Eventually, Virgil broke the silence.

“Sorry.”

So maybe I will talk to you

“What for?”

“For making you, you know.” Virgil picked absentmindedly at a loose string on his hoodie, trying to look anywhere but at Logan.

“You did not cause it Virgil. I was already well into the attack when you came along.”

“Oh.” Virgil replied. The silence settled over the two again. Virgil’s hand stopped moving. A single question hung over the pair like a needle over a balloon.

The only way I know how to

“Can I ask what happened?”

There was the question. Logan sighed and looked up at his ceiling.

“If you don’t want to, that’s totally cool. I understa-”

“It is fine. I have no qualms about informing you what occurred. Bottling up feelings is mentally unhealthy and could just lead to future attacks or spirals. Talking about it may help me understand what is happening a little more as well.” Virgil glanced over at Logan. Logan was still looking up at his ceiling. Virgil followed his gaze and gasped. Logan had 9 miniature planets, slowly orbiting a sun that was the size of a basketball. Around them, was a painted galaxy that was so detailed, it looked lifelike. Small stars twinkled in and out of existence, scattered around the ceiling.

“I remember when Roman helped me decorate my ceiling. He thought that it would be a good idea to have something to stare at,” Logan’s tone was nostalgic, but Virgil could hear a twinge of sadness, “We argued for hours over the details of each planet, but after 7 hours, we were done. We spent so long lying on my bed, talking about the future and our hopes and dreams.”

Mhm, I've said my speech

“Logan?” Virgil softly asked.

“Right. I, um, don’t quite know where to start… I suppose I would need to start at the very beginning. Is that alright?”

“Of course L. It’s all good to me.”

“Well, when Roman and I began dating, we established a set of rules and boundaries, as any functioning beings are want to do. The boundaries included both physical and mental boundaries. Things we could not do, and things we could not say.” Logan noticed the alarmed look on Virgil’s face. “Do not worry, they were simply things from our past that we did not want brought up. They were things that were off limits during fights. They were not to be talked about by the other person.”

The pieces clicked together in Virgil’s head.

“Who did it first?” Virgil asked quietly.

Mhm, through sharpened teeth

It had happened approximately 9 months ago. They had been arguing about something stupid, Logan remembered. He had said that friends were objectively unimportant. One thing had led to another and they soon began arguing about rights and wrongs, as most of their arguments tend to end on. Normally, their fights wouldn’t have escalated to these kinds of levels, but tensions had been growing for the past month. Roman became curious about something deeply personal to Logan and had been investigating under Logan’s nose.

“That makes no sense! What you are saying, is that if someone wanted to take drugs, you should just let them!”

“If it doesn’t hurt anyone, and if everyone involved gives consent, then yes!” Roman glared furiously at Logan. “You can’t just control people’s lives! We deserve to be free, to pursue the things we want to.”

“Roman, if people could just do what they wanted, the world would be in a state of anarchy. Society functions and thrives because of rules. Rules are necessary. Laws are necessary!” Logan argued.

“Laws that affect people basically say that people should do whatever they want, as long as it doesn’t hurt other people, as long as everyone involved gives consent, and if you want to hurt other people, they give consent to be hurt!”

“What does the last one even mean?”

“People are kinky. I don’t judge.”

Logan sighed. Pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Roman, if people could do whatever they wanted, nothing would get done. People would choose to do nothing instead of going to work. The economy would collapse. It would be the end of society.”

Roman spluttered. “N-No! People are better than that. People can choose to do nothing right now anyways and they don’t. There isn’t a-”

“On top of that, should you let people take as many drugs as they want? Should you let people drink as much as they want? ‘As long as they give consent’ right?” Logan mocked.

Roman’s head snapped back from the ground to Logan. “Actually, no! People under the influence can’t legally give consent!”

“That’s only in rape.”

“Noo? I’m pretty sure it still counts anyways.”

“Look. What you want is pure anarchy. The government needs to have control over people. People are too stupid to do it themselves so someone has to.”

“No! If you let the government take some rights, where’s the line?” Roman’s voice quivered. Tears began pricking his eyes. “What keeps them from deciding where you can go? What you can eat? What you can do? Who you can love?” Roman turned and stormed off to the living room. Virgil and Patton’s heads turned around. Patton saw the look on Roman’s face and sprang up to comfort the crying side. Logan stormed in soon afterwards. Virgil crossed the room to talk to him. Patton tried to make puns to cheer Roman up to no avail. Roman cried harder when he heard his name uttered across the room.

Logan stormed back towards Roman. “Can I say one last thing?”

“No.”

“Remember when Joan told you they wanted to kill themselves at the Halloween party?”

“Stop.”

“You made Thomas tell their parents. You didn’t exactly have consent, did you?”

“Stop it.”

“They did not give you their consent, did they? Thomas told their parents when they did not give us ‘consent’”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED!” Roman shouted, tears flowing freely down his face. “You weren’t there! You wouldn’t understand!”

The sound of the phrase he had used so much towards Roman during Roman’s ‘investigation’ made something in him snap. “THEN MAKE ME UNDERSTAND! I CAN’T EXACTLY-” Virgil slapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him away from the sobbing Roman.

You break the rules and spikes grow from your skin

“We’re over.”

Roman’s cold voice shocked Logan. He hadn’t heard the prince’s voice so devoid of emotion.

“What?” Logan asked. This was out of nowhere. He racked his brain for a possible reason. Was it because of the fight? But they always fought. They would fight, cool off, make up, and then do it all over again. Why was Roman-

“We. Are. Over.”

“Why?” Logan couldn’t stop the word before it flew out of his mouth.

“Why? Why? You dare ask me why?” Roman’s voice was strained. “You broke the rule. You broke my trust. You deliberately brought up something, that you knew was painful for me. If you can’t understand why, then you’re blinder than I thought.” He turned and slammed the door.

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i-growl-growl-growl · 5 years

Note

OOH OOH can you do an nct reaction to their s o faking their own death to escape them???

Warning: not proof-read

If you’re sensitive to yandere, stalker, kidnapper themed scenarios/reactions then DO NOT read this reaction thread.

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Taeil: Taeil would cry when he saw you packing your bags. He knew that you were unaware that he had come home early and had read the suicide letter than you had left on the coffee table in the living room. It would hurt him to know that you hate him so much that you’d go so far as to fake your own death so that you could leave him. He’d only cry more when he saw the look of pure fear spread across your face when you turn around to leave only to nearly run into him. He’ll do whatever he can to try and get you to stay with him on your own free will, if that doesn’t work then he knows he’ll have to resort to violence which he knows won’t help the situation.

“Babe please, I know I can be a bit much but please understand that I am this way because I couldn’t possibly love you any more than I already do. I’m doing this because I want to keep you safe. Please unpack those bags and lets talk about this civilly. I promise I won’t punish you if you talk this out with me. I’ll only chain your foot to the bed this time.”

Taeyong: Out of all the NCT Yandere boys, Taeyong is the one you want to piss off the least. He’s not afraid to push you past your breaking point if that’s what it takes to punish you properly for any attempt of escape that you may make, especially if the attempt includes faking your death. You may not know it but he actually doesn’t like hurting you, it’s just that he believes that he has to in order for you to realize just how much he loves you, in his mind- the more he hurts you- the more likely you’ll be to realize that he just wants you to love him back the same way he loves you. You won’t be able to tell this from his facial expressions or from the words that he speaks because he keeps a harsh facade going no matter what the circumstance is but his actions do speak louder than words. If you think punishments for normal attempts to escape are bad then, honey, you’ve got no idea what’s coming for you if you try faking your death. The punishments will be 10000000000x worse. He’ll chain you to walls, tie you to the bed, deprive you of your sense of touch, sight and hearing to the point that you’re nearly driven to insanity, he’ll beat you with whips, spank you, overstimulate you, anything he sees fit until you can’t do anything but cry out his name and apologize and promise you’ll never do that again over and over.

“I want an explanation of why you feel so inclined to break my rules and leave me. You will give me that explanation and you will apologize for everything that you’ve done. Once you’ve apologized enough then I’ll unchain you and let you leave this room, until then enjoy the darkness and pain that I’ll inflict upon you.”

Johnny: You had pretended to poison your own coffee, which wasn’t entirely a lie per se. You put a drug in there that you knew would make your mouth foam and knock you out for a while so that it’d seem as though you were dead. Since this was the only option you had for faking your death you decided to give it a shot and hopefully it would work. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t. Johnny’s too smart to fall for any of your shenanigans after having dealt with so many of your attempts before. You’d wake up from the drug induced sleep to find yourself sitting in the same chair at the dining table that you had fallen asleep at, however, your arms were now tied behind your back with the remainder of the rope being wrapped around the chair. You’d look over to the side after struggling against the rope to see Johnny watching you intently.

“Good morning sweetie. How was your coffee? Did you sleep well? I hope you did. I bet you would’ve slept better if you didn’t have all that foam running down your cheek though. Here, let me help you wipe that off. There. Now why don’t you tell me why you tried to fake your own death? and don’t try to play dumb, I know that’s exactly what you were doing. Start explaining or I’ll pour this pot of boiling water over your lap.”

Yuta: Holy shit would he be pissed pissed PISSED. “P” to the “I” to the double “S” “E” “D”! P.I.S.S.E.D!!!!!! How dare his little darling die without his permission! He’d go on a rampage: screaming his lungs out, smashing valuable belongings, swiping things off of counters and shelves, overturning furniture… you name it!!! Of course he wouldn’t completely believe that you were dead just because of some flimsy suicide letter and opened window. His love for you was too strong to make him be fooled so easily. Deep down there’d be some rational telling him that his darling could still be alive. He’d calm himself just enough to go and check the window, your body being nowhere in sight despite the 8 story fall that would surely have killed you on the spot if you had actually jumped. This would normally be where the yandere would sigh in relief and rejoice since that’d mean that their victim is still alive but that wouldn’t be the case for Yuta, in fact, he’d actually be even more pissed than before. How dare you try and escape by faking your death! He’d scour the city for you and once he found you, don’t expect to be shown any mercy!

“You really thought I’d believe that you were dead? You really thought that you could just leave me??? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND Y/N! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME!! YOU CAN’T FOOL ME LIKE THAT!!!! now get over here and lets go home N.O.W!!!!!! Just you wait until we get home. By the time I’m done punishing you you’ll wish that you really had died to escape from me!”

Kun: Kun would be heartbroken and angry all at once. You had jumped off the edge of a cliff during another one of your attempted escapes from him and he had seen it happen. He thought he lost you as he looked over the edge in search of your body, little did he know that you had actually merely hopped over the edge and caught one of many branches that hung around a small, cave-like opening just a few feet down from where he was currently standing. You were thankful that you had found out about this when he allowed you to tag along in one of his longer trekking trips as a reward for being good since your last failed attempt. You had both been in the valley far below you, walking down one of the trails he has paved when you looked up to see the giant cliff in all its glory, but what really caught your eye had been a hole that looked like a cave not to far from the top of it. You mentally took note of it once you put down your binoculars and thought to trust your luck if there ever came a time that you found yourself running towards the edge of the cliff to get away from him in the future…. well that future turned out to be now and luck had been on your side……. or so it seemed. You waited until it began to get dark before you crawled out of the hole and attempted to make your way back up the cliff. Once you made it you could make a break for it while since Kun would surly be long gone by this point. Luck had run out for you however because, as you made it to the top and pulled yourself up over the edge, your eyes landed upon an all too familiar pair of hiking boots right in front of you. When you looked up, there he was, the boogieman of dreams and reality, your ‘boyfriend’ Kun.

“You wouldn’t dare have the audacity to think that I didn’t know about the small cave on the side of the cliff did you? Of course I know about it. I know this land like the back of my own hand! When I didn’t see your body in the valley below I knew that where you had ended up. All I had to do was wait for you to crawl back since I knew you wouldn’t stay there for too long. Now lets go home!!! I’ve got a nice set of handcuffs and a well secured, empty room with many locks ready for you. I hope you enjoyed your time outside cause you won’t be coming back out for a long while darling.”

Doyoung: Doyoung would lose his tough guy aura and immediately begin panicking. What had happened to his love to cause their death? When did they die? How did they die? They can’t really be dead can they? Is there any way to revive them? Where’s the body? He’ll go crazy until all of these questions are answered in full. When he finds you alive and well, he’ll at first be relieved beyond belief, picking you up in a tight bear hug and spinning around like a love struck high schooler in an overly romantic k-drama. Once the euphoria of having you in his arms again dies down however don’t expect him to be so nice to you.

“Y/N!!!!! Y/-ah I’m so glad you’re alive! You can’t believe how relieved I am! I thought I had really lost you this time!”

Ten: Ten knows exactly how to tell for sure if you’re actually dead or not. All he’s gotta do is begin stripping you of your clothes then he’ll strip himself, before spreading your legs open and fitting himself between them. Once he’s got that down, if you don’t react by that point, he’ll begin kissing you in the spots that he knows gets you ‘excited’. If you still chose to be stubborn and pretend to be dead them he’ll step up his game and begin feeling you up. After a few minutes you’ll have no choice but to give up your act since you’d be unable to stifle your moans any longer.

“I knew you were still with me sweetheart. Didn’t I already tell you that You can’t leave me? Don’t think that death would be able to separate us, even in death I’ll find a way for us to be together.Death can’t tear us apart so don’t even flatter yourself with such mindless fantasies.”

Jaehyun: You and one of your friend had decided that the only possible way you could escape from Jaehyun’s yandere ways if if you faked a suicide. At first you didn’t know how to do it but then, one day while you were on one of Jaehyun’s ‘dates’, you passed by the clothing shop that your friend works at and an idea popped up in your head. You and your friend could dress a mannequin up as you then you could throw it over the side of Jaehyun’s building from the top floor. The next time your talked to friend they agreed to the idea. That same night you did the deed and everyone was fooled into believing you had committed suicide. When Jaehyun went into work the next day he overheard the news and immediately pulled up every surveillance camera footage that he could get his hands on to see if the news was true. As he did his research he realized that body falling from the building seemed too stiff and lifeless even before it hit the ground so he had hope that it wasn’t real. Low and behold, you began working at the business that your other friend had put in a good word for and after two weeks, you were invited to a grand business meeting. What your boss had failed to tell you was that the business meeting was a joint meeting with none other than Jaehyun’s business since they both panned on partnering up for a major project for the city. You end up be seated directly across from Jaehyun who seems realized, shocked, and infuriated to see you at that moment. You want to leave before the meeting begins but you know it’s already too late, Jaehyun won’t let you out of his sight again and you know it. After the meeting Jaehyun stays behind while everyone else files out until it’s just you and him left, then he makes his move and rushes to your side, grabbing your wrist tightly, and forces you to go home with him where you’ll end up staying.

“I knew the news couldn’t be real. The body in the surveillance footage didn’t look anything like you. I’m glad I’ve found you again, alive and well. Now, I intend to keep you that way. You’re coming home with me, don’t even try to fight me, you won’t win and that’ll only earn you more punishment.”

WinWin: WinWin’s mind would shut down as the thought of his dearest being gone. The trance that would wash over him would consume him wholeheartedly from the inside out. He’d no longer be the bubbly cutie that everyone knows him for being. For the longest time he’d stand in the room that used to be yours with his head hung low, daydreaming about you being alive and with him again. The thought that you could still be alive wouldn’t even cross his mind. After keeping to himself for awhile to grieve over the loss of you, he’d leave his house and walk without any destination in mind or any care in the world to actually pay attention to his surroundings, that is, not until he bumped into someone and heard a familiar voice. He’d begin to look up only to find your frozen figure knocked to the ground in front of him. His eye would soot open as he looked at you before he’d bend over and grasp your wrist in his hand tightly before pulling you up and dragging you back to he house. You don’t know what came over you but something about the way WinWin was now would scare you enough into staying silent as he took you back to the place you had come to hate before you had escaped.

“How? How could this happen? Why? Why would you leave me? Y/N, why? Please tell me why? Why couldn’t you stay with me? Did you really hate me that much?”

Jungwoo: Jungwoo will lose his shit!!! No matter how you had faked your death, this squish of a yandere boy would become nothing but a complete and utter wreck at the thought that his beloved has left not only him but this world entirely. He’d immediately begin crying the largest crocodile tears imaginable and wouldn’t stop until he no longer had any tears left in his system. If you faked your death by writing a suicide letter thenleft before he got home from work, you’d have nothing to fear in the sense of him turning the city upside down in hopes that he’d find you safe and ALIVE, because he’d be too broken to even move from the spot where he read the letter until he was done crying. He wouldn’t even be able to comprehend the possibility that this was fake at all. Now, if you had faked your death by writing a letter then hid somewhere in the apartment for the right time to escape or if you had pretended to overdose, drown, or suffocate and you could hear his sniffles and wailing as he cried over your “dead” body or near where you were hiding then this plan may not work out the way you planned it to because hearing how upset he is could pull at even the most desperate to escape victim’s heartstrings. Now what would really do you in is if he began cradling your body in his arms and cried into your shoulders, occasionally kissing you. You may end up coming out from your hiding spot or opening your eyes and wrap your arms around his sobbing figure and comfort him, telling him that everything’s OK and that you weren’t actually dead. Once you’d have him calmed down enough, he’d wrap his shaking arms around you and hold you close to him, still crying and whimpering like a kicked puppy, afraid that if he let go he’d lose you for real this time.

If you thought Jungwoo was a clingy yandere before this, that belief would skyrocket 1000000 fold after your ‘faked death’ attempt. He’d really never let you go after that, he’d cling to you like a baby koala clings to their mother.

“Please god don’t let this be real. Please. PlEAsE. PLEASE! PLEASE tell me y/n’s still alive PLEASE!!!!!!!” “How could you do this to me y/n?! I thought I had lost you forever. I love you. Please don’t ever leave me. I love you so much”

Lucas: Lucas won’t be amused in the slightest. He had found you running away again but managed to capture you and drag you back to your shared apartment again. The fact that you had tried to escape from him again was bad enough, especially when it had seemed as though you were both making progress in your relationships. After weeks of you behaving and acting as though you were undoubtedly infatuated with your “lover” you went and pulled something like this on him? He’d be pissed abut that as is but when he got home and found the apartment to be totally trashed so that it’d look as if there had been a robbery and murder he’d just turn around and give you the most unamused glare. before dragging you to the bedroom to deal with you properly.

“Really y/n? You used our ketch-up for the fake blood? How stupid do you think I am? and, after all this time, all of this was just an act from you? Why can’t you just accept that I love you and love me back? What would lead you to go through so much trouble to try and escape from me? Why do you keep doing this to me?”

Mark: Yes you had left a suicide note in plain sight for him to see. Yes you had emptied a bottle of pills and dropped some of them and the bottle off to the side of the living room floor while flushing a majority of them down the toilet so that it looked as if you had actually taken the pills. Yes, you did your best to labor your breathing so that it looked as if you weren’t breathing at all. What you failed to realize though is that, no matter how labored your breath turned out to be, he’d still be able to feel your heartbeat if he chose to place a hand over your chest to see if you were actually dead or he’d be able to feel a pulse from your neck and wrists. What you failed to realize is that dead bodies are supposed to be close to the touch. What you failed to realize is that the hairs on your body aren’t supposed to stand if he touches you at all. There had been plenty of flaws in your faked death and that’s what ultimately led to your “attempt” at escape to fail miserably. Mark is a very smart boy and he’d notice all of these things as he checked to see if you were truly dead. To get back at you for even trying, he’d start off by running a bath while leaving your “dead” body where it had been found, once it was full he’d pick you up and take you into the bathroom. He’d carry you to the filled bath tub and not so gently or carefully drop you into it. This would catch your attention and your eyes would shoot open immediately while your body would spasm at the pain of practically being tossed in the tub like a rag doll. As your eyes opened, you’d see Mark hovering above your submerged body, a pointed finger submerging into the water causing the water to ripple slightly.

“You’ve been very bad y/n! Did you really think I’d fall for this? What were you even trying to get out of this? Was this an attempt to escape? You should’ve left the letter and the pills alone and made a run for it while you could’ve. That would’ve been more believable than this little charade. Better luck next time, although I’ll do my damnedest to make sure there won’t be a next time.”

Xiaojun: You could feel a cold breeze on your skin as you were being carried somewhere by Xaiojun. You were curious of where he was taking you but you couldn’t risk opening your eyes even just the slightest bit out of fear that you’d be found out and he’d take you back to his place. You’d feel him settle you onto the rough ground and you’d be able to tell just from the smell surrounding you that you were near some freshly dug up dirt. Still playing your game despite growing anxieties, you kept your eyes shut as you felt light mounds of torn up grass and plants being placed over, and around, your “dead” body. After awhile, you’d realize that Xiaojun had stopped and all was quiet around you. Who knows how long you laid there unattended until you decided to open your eyes slightly and look around. You were immediately shocked to find yourself in a shallow grave surrounded by flowers. You panicked and started to get up but heavy metal hit the top of your head hard, causing you to lay down in the grave while groaning in pain, groggy from the hit. Soon, large amounts of dirt were being flung over your body at a rapid pace.The dust began to suffocate you but you still managed to begin screaming! Giving up on faking you death since you knew you had already been found out and could actually dye if Xiaojun chose to continue burying you. The dirt would stop being flung over you as you heard footsteps approaching your grave.

“What’s this? An undead corpse!? Has my special baby really come back from the dead? My, what wonderful timing!” “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your screams since you died. Hearing those screams right now is music to my heartbroken ears.”

Hendery: He’d know that you weren’t actually dead as he continued to read the letter you had left behind for him. He also knew that you hadn’t even left the apartment. Scarily enough, he could hear your faint breathing coming from behind his closet doors despite being on the opposite side of the room as you are. Since your plan had failed from the start, he wouldn’t be so angry but you still wouldn’t get away scot-free once you’d come out from your hiding spot.

“My love, why do you insist on believing you can leave me? Why do you even want to leave? Have I not shown you enough love to make you want to stay? Do you still believe that the outside world is safe for you? What would possess you to fake your own death as an attempt to leave me?” “I know you’re in the closet y/n. C’mon out and lets talk about this, OK?”

Renjun: Tears would flow as he held you in his arms. While you and Renjun had been eating your lunch, you secretly texted one of your friends telling them the secret code to come and ‘save’ you. You had arranged that if Renjun were to find you while you were out in public but you couldn’t call the police, then you’d have to fake your death somehow…. this led to you and your new found friend conjuring up a plan to come to your aid by “running you over” once you got the chance to run from him. Once the message was sent with the location that this would happen at, you waited until the perfect time to excuse yourself, saying that you were full and needed to go. Of course you knew that Renjun wouldn’t just let you walk off after having found you so he tagged along. While he was paying for the meal you booked it out of the restaurant and headed towards the location of your future “death.” Luckily you saw your friend approaching in their car as you neared the location. You could hear hurried footsteps following you and Renjun’s voice would pierce the air as he screamed out your name, as it got closer you knew it was now or never, you ran into the streets, keeping an eye on your friends approaching car, then stopped as it rammed into you. The force from your friend’s car knocked the air out of you which helped make the scene seem more believable but you hadn’t thought of the possibility that Renjun would be fast enough to pick up your body from the street and run off with it before your friend could even get out of their car. You also hadn’t thought of the possibility that he’d have a car to force you into.

Once he reached his car, he hurriedly placed you in the backseat and strapped you in before running to the drivers seat, turning on the engine and speeding away before your friend could reach you. After driving for awhile, he’d pull over long enough to lower his head and cry for a few moments while speaking you through through broken sobs.

“Don’t worry y/n, you’ll be OK. I know the car didn’t hit you bad enough to kill you, you’ve just had the air knocked out of you is all. I know you’ll be OK. I know it’d be best if I took you to a hospital to make sure but I can’t risk anyone taking you away from me, I don’t want to lose you again. Lets go home and I’ll make you some tea and soup. I’m not a doctor but I can try to check if you have any broken bones once your feeling a little better. I just can’t lose you again, I can’t.”

Jeno: “Really y/n? Did you really think that I’d believe this? Even a two year old would be able to tell that this blood is from those fake blood packets that you get in Halloween costume kits. and that knife is so childish. This entire act is deplorable! If you’re going to fake your death at least make it seem slightly realistic!”

Haechan: He’ll tear the entire country apart if that’s what it takes to find you. He won’t let his love and desire for you die until he’s certain that you’re actually gone. God forbid that he finds you alive, he’ll capture you and show you how you should never cross him like that. He may be pissed off enough to call in Taeyong to help serve your punishment to you. If you’re going to fake your death to escape from Haechan you better have a way to leave the country and get as far away from him as possible as quickly as possible otherwise you’re really going to suffer for it.

“I gave you a chance to be treated like royalty. I didn’t even force you to be with me, to came to me on your own yet you think that you can leave just like that? Once you’re with me there’s no backing out. How dare you think that you could fool me like this!”

Jaemin: “I never imagined that you’d actually bash your head with the hammer, kudos to you for at least trying to make this seem real. But really, everyone knows that it’d take much more of a bash to the head than that to kill someone. You’ve barely even bled. Now give me the hammer and lets get you cleaned up.”

YangYang: He isn’t too worried about it because, if you were really dead, there’d be a body laying around for him to find. No body = you’re not actually dead. He’ll be pissed that you faked suicide to escape from him but he’ll drop it so long as he finds you and brings you back.

“I won’t punish you this time since you made it so obvious that this was fake. Well…… actually I will punish you. I can’t just let you think that you can do this and get away with it. Get to your room and wait for me, I’ll be there soon. First I have to clean up the mess you’ve made…………. Or maybe that could be part of your punishment.”

Chenle: Chenle’s is a very sensitive yandere, He just wants your love. Why can’t you give it to him?! The more you make him realize that you hate him, the more heartbroken he becomes. If you fake your death Chenle will break down in uncontrollable tears.He doesn’t want to lose you like this. If he’s going to lose you at all then he at least wants to lose you but know that you’re alive and well after you leave him. You’ll have to come out from your hiding spot and consolidate him in order for him to stop crying.

“Why do you hate me so much y/n? What did I do to make you hate me like this?”

Jisung: He’d be confused about why yo thought you had to go this far to escape from him. He’d be confused about why you want to escape from him so badly. He’ll scratch his head in wonder and asks you why you’d dress up a log to look like you and push it into the lake to make it seem as though you had drowned yourself.

“Why do you insist on scaring me like this? I know what I’m doing isn’t right but I can’t help it. I love you too much to let you leave me. I know I’m crazy but isn’t crazy love what most people want?”

—————————————————————————————————–

Can you tell that I began to lose my spunk as the reactions continued?

I apologize for that.

I also want to apologize for making the reactions so similar to each other.

~Savie

#yandere kpop #yandere #yandere nct #nct yandere #kpop yandere #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct imagines #stalker au #kidnapper au #nct u #nct dream #NCT 127 #nct 2018 #nct wayv #kpop #yandere reactions #psychopath au #psychopath imagine

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How Ambien Works ?

The Ambien defense was also utilized in the event of Julie Ann Bronson, a flight attendant from Texas. Bronson took a few Ambien to help her sleep. She went to bed early, and was drinking wine earlier in the afternoon. She awakened in jail, still in her pajamas, barefoot and terrified. She was horrified when she had been told that she had run such as an 18-month-old woman who suffered severe brain damage as a result of the mess. "It was surreal. It was just like a bad dream." In May of 2012, Bronson pleaded guilty to the felonies of intoxication assault and failure to stop and render aid. "I did the crime but I never planned to do it," she testified. "I wouldn't hurt a flea. And if I would have hit on somebody, I'd have stopped and helped. Ten decades bronson faced, but as a result of this Ambien defense, she will serve six months in prison and have ten years of probation.

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It was only in Patrick Kennedy's 2006 middle-of-the-night vehicle accident and explanation to arriving officers that he had been running late to get a vote the eccentric side effects of Ambien began to receive national attention. Kennedy claimed the sleeping aid had been obtained by him and had no recollection of those events and Buy Ambien Online Overnight .

On March 29, 2009, 45, Robert Stewart, stormed to the Pinelake Health and Rehab nursing home in Carthage, North Carolina and opened fire, killing eight people and wounding two. Stewart target was his estranged wife, who was employed as a nurse. She hid in a bathroom and was unharmed. Though there was evidence that Stewart's actions were premeditated (he allegedly had a target), Stewart's defense team successfully argued that since he was under the effect of Ambien, a sleep aid, at the time of the shooting, he was not in control of his activities. Instead of the fees Stewart was convicted on eight counts of second-degree murder. 142 -- 179 years was received by him.

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As a result of this Schweigert verdict, an attorney used the Ambien defense by asserting his client's arrest had been shifted six months following by the drug's labeling to overturn a 2006 DWI conviction for a New Jersey woman. The court agreed, stating it would be an"injustice to hold her accountable for the side effects of a popular and readily available medication that she was lawfully prescribed and properly handled." Not many prosecutors will consider the Ambien defense, and its position within criminal rules that are established is tenuous. It doesn't actually fall under"voluntary intoxication," in which somebody is responsible for their intoxication and some other events that happen as a consequence of that intoxication. The Ambien defendants took the medication, but they weren't aware they were drugging themselves in a means that could produce anything other. The defendants knowingly took the medicine, because they're recorded as potential side effects in the information, and also the responses weren't unpredictable. In the end, there's the"unconsciousness/sleepwalking" defense, where the individual is not responsible for the crime if he did not intentionally cause the sleepwalking or unconsciousness. So that this defense does not really apply the whole motivation for taking Ambien at the first area is to create unconsciousness.

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After its approval, Ambien Dose rose to dominance in the sleep aid industry. Travelers declared by it to fight jet lag, and girls, who suffer more insomnia purchased it. Sanofi, the French manufacturer of Ambien, made $2 billion in earnings in its summit. In 2007 Ambien's generic version was published, Zolpidem, and in less than $2 a tablet, it remains among the most prescribed medications in the usa, outselling painkillers such as prescription and Percocet strength ibuprofen. Not everyone who engages in bizarre behavior of accepting Ambien as a result ends up in trouble. And a few people today enjoy the large they get from the drug so much they are willing to miss the blackouts and effects that result. Recreational users started out taking the drug to treat insomnia, but discovered that if they fought the sleep-inducing effect of the drug, they could get really high. "It's like having that drink in the pub when you realize you need to go home -- I would combat the pill's effects and stay up, often telling my friends mad things like how to turn the light inside the room in energy, or the way that paintings of forest scenes in their walls were actually drawings of mermaids bathing themselves into blood," writes one young woman whose dependence on Ambien caused increasingly bizarre and alienating behavior. She continued staying awake regularly until one morning she awakened with a cut and two black eyes across her nose and taking the pill. Her cushions were bloody, and a stranger was, wrapped in a rug, on her floor and naked. This situation jarring, was not sufficient to get her to give Ambien up; the high was too good. It wasn't until she was discovered wandering the Brooklyn streets in the middle of the night, almost nude, that she managed to give it up.

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Ironically, you are likely to succeed with the Ambien defense should you injure or kill someone than if you crash into a car or a tree. DWI laws just need the prosecution to show that the defendant got and was loaded into a vehicle to drive. There's no requirement. When someone is hurt, nevertheless, it is up to the prosecutor to demonstrate that the suspect was conscious enough to become guilty of the crime. It's hard to claim that they have knowledge of their actions, if people on Ambien are behaving in an automatic, or unconscious state. That's why people prefer Lindsey Schweigert get permits while Donna Neely, that was sleep-driving on Ambien and murdered a mother of 11, was acquitted of vehicular manslaughter. Tiger Woods was also famously associated with Ambien when one of his mistresses claimed that she and the golfer could have"crazy Ambien sex" Ambien reduces inhibitions and erases memories, an perfect combination for someone who's cheating on his spouse. The buzz created by the drug seems to boost sex. One girl described feeling"quite relaxed and sensuous" when she had sex on Ambien. "I suddenly have floaty energy. . I am tired, but lively. It's almost like I'm at a state. I could compare it somewhat to weed, but nothing I've done really contrasts, in all honesty."

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Lindsey Schweigert took one Ambien Sleeping Pills prior to getting into bed at 6pm. She woke up with no idea how she'd gotten there. In the following weeks, Schweigert pieced together the events of the night. She'd gotten out of bed, drawn a tub, and left the house. After leaving her house she began driving to a local restaurant but crashed shortly. She was explained by police as glassy-eyed and swaying. The flipside to Ambien's supposed attributes is the fact that it's becoming increasingly used as a date rape drug. Actually, the single case of"sleep-sex" that appeared at an 2008 medical journal review of case reports on Ambien-related sleep behaviors involved the Ambien taker being raped. The identical absence of inhibition together with amnesia which makes it possible for people indulge in behavior that is dishonest, to commit offenses, and also have sex on Ambien is an ideal formulation for a sexual predator. Ambien is also readily accessible and more widely accessible than rohypnol, the drug related to date rape.

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Schweigert had. She had never been in trouble with the law and was scared of losing her job and having a criminal record. Prosecutors initially wanted to inflict a six month jail sentence as well as other punishments, but Schweigert's lawyer contended that Lindsey's bizarre behaviour on the night in question was a result of a drug which cautioned right on the tag that"After taking AMBIEN, you may get up from bed whilst not being completely awake and perform an activity that you do not understand you are doing. In fact, the attorney argued, Schweigert must have been taken to jail, not to a hospital. Prosecutors dropped the charges and enabled Lindsey to plead to the lesser charge.

Shortly Ambien users resisted Sanofi because of eccentric behaviours while. Based on attorney for the class action suit, Susan Chana Lask, folks were eating things like buttered eggs and cigarettes, complete with all the shells, while under the sway of Ambien. He blames Ambien, but for lapses in his memory within five decades and an extended period of writer's block. "...a great deal of my memory is gone. If you've ever taken Ambien, I don't know, but it's kind of a memory-eraser. This shit wiped out five decades of my life. People might tell me stories, and it's like,"I did that?" Eminem has maintained a few of his writing from this period, confessing to Rolling Stone that"It fucking out me...Letters all down the page -- it was like my hands weighed 400 pounds. I have that shit. As a reminder that I don't ever wish to go back."

Final Words

A part of the category of drugs known as hypnotics, ambien, was accepted by the FDA in 1992. It was designed for short-term use to fight insomnia and was a welcome change in the prevailing sleep aid at the moment, Halcion, which had been implicated in psychosis, suicide, and addiction and had been banned in half a dozen countries. Ambien works by activating the neurotransmitter GABA and binding it at precisely the exact same place as the benzodiazepines such as Xanax and Valium. The extra GABA action triggered by the drug inhibits. To put it differently, the brain is slowed down by it. Ambien is effective at initiating sleep working within 20 minutes. Unless it's taken in the release type, it does not, however, have an impact on sustaining sleep.

#ambien amb amb10mg

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pinkatron · 5 years

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Strange witcher induced dreams

Just had a crazy dream, and since i actually remember it down it goes

I was living with Regis, our house was a mansion, and Yennefer was visiting so was the whole cast and crew. It was about... oh... 100-200 years in the future from where we are now, not so different that it was alien, but there were some fun techologies that were avalible.

We were having a bbq, but it was the tale end of spring and we hadn't gotten the pools ready for swimming yet, minus the hottub. Yennefer and triss went swimming in the big pool anyway, and bitched about it being cold, geralt threw them both into the hot tub. It was a fun night, full of flitting memories and warm feelings. However Regis was pensive, someone was missing, someome important. Eventually when the whole crew drunk themselves into a stupor we went to sleep.

Woke up next to Regis and he was still being pensive, and nervous. Then his assistant called from outside the door that he had to go. He stood up and he was covered head to foot in tattoos. As was I. I helped him dress, told him to have a good day at work and i would be home a bit late cause i was working as well that night, he kissed me and said goodbye. Then i went through and helped the maids clean the house from the bender, eskel and lambert had to leave out early, and triss apparently left out the night previous. I told Geralt and Yennefer they had free run of the house but not to destoy anything, and then i was off to work.

I owned the tattoo shop, and it was confession day. People had realized i was diffrent, and with rumors popping up about vampires and the like i had to let them know i was one. Vampires wern't hidden in this world, most were viewed as a curiosity, and most of us just lived our lives without issues. As i told them i looked up at the TV and Regis was giving a press conference, wearing the same clothes i put on him that morning. He was announcing a new set of nano technology, we had beaten most common illnesses by this point, but the big baddie viruses still existed. Aids and HIV could be brought to a standstill, but they never actually went away, they just lay dormant.

People were living happy lives while sick, but it still wasn't enough. I could feel his nervousness and his shyness and the shake of his breath as he spoke about the technology. This was his baby, somethi g he had been working on for years. I got interupted from watching and realized i had drifted off in the middle of explaining what we were.

I turnred back to my crew and finished up the whole "vampire, don't worry." Which turned into Yes Regis is a vampire.... which then turned into hardy questioning because we were friends with the Mages and witchers. At the end of it, work started, and my small crew was down to tattooing the first clients of the day. There were two booths in the back that were shielded. One was mine, and the other... i looked into it and sighed. It was decorated with goth as fuck everything. But it pinged me with lonlyness.

I tattooed something on someone, not sure what. Kt was on her thigh, and she was dark skinned, and then i sent her on her way, and grabbed the new apprentice we had aquired and told her to come with me cause i was gonna get treats for the shop. She began to pepper me with questions that i actually knew the anwsers to as we walked down the road to an icecream cart.

She wanted to know Regis's past, and i told her he had started out as a medical researcher, then moved up and up, and eventually took over as COO for the small medical research team he headed up. He was noticed and was snipped by a larger conglomerate of medical research companies, and long story short, he was now the CMO of a large conglomerate of medical research and pharmaceutical companies. there has been trouble of course, because the second he became CMO he brought the company back into being private, and in turn bought out the board of directors so he was the only one heading everything, then brought in a new board, and they managed to turn the whole of the medical community right on its face by providing outreach, making things that people needed to live free of cost, and turning to cosmetics to prop the profits to keep the medical end going.

By the end of it i was exausted. I was craving blood. I knew i was because i was looking at the apprentice and really really wishing she would offer me her neck. Instead i ignored it and we arrived at the icecream truck. I was getting ready to order when there was a commotion and i heard my apprentice run off squeeling happily. I thought she had seen a friend.

I heard her shouting "he's here he's back!!!" And i turned and i looked.

It was fucking Dettlaff. He was walking twords me and i dropped whattlever i was holding and i ran to him. I ran my hands across his face, felt his soft shirt under his leather coat, felt the canvas straps of his backpack, and just... this epic wash of relief came over me. I clung to him and he wrapped his arms around me. And stoked my hair.

My ear was pressed against his chest as he began to speak, creating that weird reverberation where it almost sounds like they are spekaing through you. "I am here, i am home. Shhhh. Where is Regis?"

I told him he was annoucing the new drug today and he laughed. I didn't want to let him go. He knew it cause i could feel him in my mind like i could regis. The tattoo booth was his, he was a tattoo artist like me, and he got held up as he was doing a guest spot overseas in europe, where vampires we not quite looked on as kindly. Thats what Regis had been worried about.

I burried my nose in his front and i smelled him, and gods its still sticking with me. Iron, blood, freshly tilled earth on a misty morning, spring honeysuckle and jasmine, and then a true and deeply male musk under all that, that smelled of sweat and hard work... he pulled me close and was kissing the top of my head, and wispering about how he was sorry he was held up. Everything was right with the world once again. I didn't want to leave his arms.

The last thing i did before i woke was tell Regis "he is here, he is home..."

And he sent back

"I am on my way home love."

The last thought i had, as i was pulled up from sleep was "yes home, our home, togeather..." and Dettlaff's arms wrapped tight around me.... and then i woke up.

Fuck dreams like this for giving me a glimse at what I'll never have... arghhhhh

#dream #vivid dreams #witcher #emiel regis #dettlaff van der eretein #i hate my life

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i-am-parsec · 5 years

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Page 4

Henrik has gone from ignoring me for weeks to monitoring my every move 24/7. Stacy goes around the house making jokes about the benefits of having an live-in doctor since she may go into labour any minute now but I can't tell she's just as worried as me about the Doc. Worried because he's not explaining himself. Worried because he won't tell what's in the goddamn book. Worried because of his reaction when she "dared" to use Google to translate the first page. Henrik claims it's ancient German, too hard for him to understand, "after all, Chase, I only lived in Berlin for a few years as a kid, I barely speak modern German!, but you can't bullshit the bullshiter, Schneeplestein.

He's scared, and while I keep telling myself I don't what of, I think it's time to face up to the facts. It's time to call mom and ask what the fuck happened the night Charles broke his arm and I met my wife.

***

I have two uncles. Both of them in prison. One of them for murder, the other for rape and murder. I had no idea they were in prison or that they existed at all. My mother told me as that trying to contact them was pointless, she swore to my father I would never meet them. Apparently delivering that fucking book wasn't his only deathbed wish, knowing him, the fucker probably made a list. I want to be mad at him, I really do, but I can't, right now I can't feel anything. There's so much going on inside my head and at the same time, it's blank. It reminds me of our time working in Arizona, the attempted robbery - when Stacy shot at that guy with the gun so close to my head, I felt the whole world going completely mute while simultaneously exploding. The ringing right after, that's how I feel now. Silenced terror.

I go back to how mom greeted me and it makes me want to scream.

"I'm glad you called, dear. You have no time to waste; now, listen carefully and everything will be alright, you are the one who's gonna get it right, son."

Reassuring words as she holds me in the monster's den. Nothing but lies, that's all this family is. She asked me to record the conversation. I should have hung up right then and there

Triplets. Dad was born first, then Lucas, then Matthew. The three of them seemed like healthy, happy boys despite their father's distant behavior. If what my mother says it's true, that grandfather I never got to meet only held his children once for a picture after they were born and never again touched them, not a hug, not a caress, not even pat on the back. Their mother tried really hard to make up for their father's lack of affectionate gestures, in other words, she spoiled them. That alone could explained my father's addictions and his brothers' criminal tendencies but mom insists there's more. She insists there is a curse.

I am going insane, aren't I? A sane person would suggest their mother to get herself checked after listening to what I did, yet here I am writing it all down, going over the recording again and again, afraid I might miss some details. This is ridiculous...

A curse has followed the Brody men for at least 6 generations. Someone, somewhere made a pact and apparently screw all of us up; with who or what is up to debate but what my family has deduced over the years is that this entity preys on all of the males who descend from that poor fucker and that it feeds off our pain (either emotional or physical) while working its way into the brain of its victims. Once it achieves this, it starts controlling the victim's body until it completely destroys it and then proceeds to start the same process with the next generation, i.e. It drives you insane and, after killing you, it starts torturing your son.

I've always doubted my mother’s sanity but this certainly sounds like reason enough to lock her up in an asylum - although, given the fact that I might go crazy myself in a matter of months, maybe that's a not a good idea; last thing I need is to end up trapped in a mental institution with her. That could totally happen, I'm unlucky like that, as time has proven more than once.

From here on, I'll just write down her exact words, I'm done with trying to process all this crap, it's obviously not happening.

"Your father loved you and me more than anyone has ever loved anyone in this world. He made the biggest sacrifices so you and every other man with Brody blood on their veins could get an actual fighting chance, a shot at happiness. He went through Hell, and back for us, my love, and maybe you think ‘no, that's not right, he put us through Hell, he was the devil himself’, but that's just not true and you know it. Maybe that thing managed to slip away from your memory but it’s not an easy sight to forget, once you see it, it sticks with you forever, and you saw it, son, many times. Every time your father pinned you down on the floor, every time he burned your skin with a cigarette, every time he threaten you or me to kill us, there it was, relishing in our fear. You have to understand, Chase, that while all of us could see it, no one knew how to stop it, no one was brave enough to find out, except your father and his brothers. He wasn't the horrible man everyone saw from the outside, he was and will always be the tender boy I fell in love with so many years ago.

He didn't know what was going to happen to him as he grew older, his father never warned him - you see, that was your grandfather’s strategy. This thing needs the victims to love and be loved, to have hope and dreams, it needs them to be happy, so he can rip their happiness apart. Your grandfather learned this from the old book I sent you and he concluded that if he stayed away from his sons and never allowed himself to love anyone, he would be safe, he could starve the demon and maybe even destroy it. But there's no escape from love, no matter how bad it hurts. He suffered just as much as your dad did, but got nothing out of it. When your dad and uncles found out about this curse of sorts, they realized there was no point in trying to fight it, so they didn't. They let it consume them completely, so they could learned as much as possible from it, what it was, how it behaved and especially, how to kill it.

I knew your uncles. They were good men, and they loved your father very much. By the time your grandfather died and the truth came out, Matthew was engaged, Lucas was a successful singer (you won't find his songs on the internet but trust me, he was gifted, just like you, dear) and your father, well, he and I had just moved in together and I was pregnant with you. It is truly a shame you never got to meet Matt and Luke because they would have been the most wonderful uncles any kid could ever have. In a way, they are. They decided your dad was the one who had the most to lose, so they sacrificed themselves, hoping it would prevent the monster from attacking him too. That's how they ended up in jail. They were the kindest people I had the honor to meet, they would have never hurt anyone, but they thought if they became the evil puppets this thing wanted them to be, it would leave your father and his new family alone. They loved you a lot, Chase, if your father made me promise you will never to see them, it's because they are no longer the lovely men they once were. This thing consumed them. You must remember them as the smiling kids in the pictures I'm sending you. You should be getting them soon. That's who you uncles are, not the emotionless shells who are in prison now.

Just like them, your father was not the beast you sadly had to grow up with, he was kind and creative and he would have let this thing eat him up alive if it meant finding a way out for you, son, and I think he did. The book is mostly notes from your great grandfather, the first one to "investigate" this thing, but on the back there are your father's own findings. Read them, dear, prepare yourself but most importantly, don't make your elders' mistakes. Don't try to ignore it or hide it, this is a fight you can't avoid or win alone. I'm glad you married the Walter girl, she always seemed so strong and determined, I know that if you tell her the truth, like your father did with me, she will stick with you.

I'm sorry it took me so long to tell why we could never leave, my love, I really am. I hope, one day, you can forgive us all.”

I want to tell my mother to fuck off, to stop making shit up and accept the fact she married an abusive drunk worthless piece of shit who happens to be brother of two equally fucked up pieces of shit and that maybe now that he's dead she can finally get some professional help to deal with it, but I can't. I want to put this pen down and go to bed and hold my beautiful wife, tell her everything is alright, but I can't. I want to call Henrik and tell my friend there's no need to lie because whatever is written is that book is nothing but some drug-induced crap my great-grandfather wrote many years ago, but I can't.

Because I know it's not true. Because I remember my father's true voice. Because I can see the void in the window's reflection, hovering over my shoulder, reading these rushed words. Taller than a human, wider than my desk, I can feel its freezing breath against my back. I don't want to turn around. I don't want to stare at it and listen to its heinous scream. I don't want to tell the truth. I don't want to admit my father was a good man controlled by a fucking demon because then that means my monster is not gone and I'm still not free.

It means my monster is standing right here with me and this time there's no one to hold it behind a shut door. This time, I have a son on the way, and it's my turn to hold it shut.

4 pages left. Page 3 // Page 5

❤️Tag list❤️: @amyxmiaplay @awkward-bullshit @beck-pma @closedworldofmathiel @darktrash-drash @fanfictionrecommendations-com @flyingfishflopsthings @fruitycasket @happysingingturtles @hiimizzyxoxo @hishex @kitnkas @mcomegalletas @mijako98 @mjjau @mysterious-cupcake-ninja @mysticalanimallover @novasingalaxies @plutoandpolaris @probablyghosting @randomartdudette @saltyweirdbi @sassy-in-glasses @scarlet--raven @septicuniverse @skyewardlight @thevampireauthoress @youllnevertaketheskyfromme

#Unaddressed Letters #Chase Brody #His letters

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pllandcompany · 6 years

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Out Loud (Part Four)

Summary: Hospital!AU. Logan has everybody fooled...or so he thinks. (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Warnings: mentions/description of drug use and addiction, poor self-care habits, undereating, anxiety, some swearing, blood, discussion of medical procedures, mentions of past violence/gun violence

Pairings: QPP Moxiety, Romantic Logince

Tagged: @ziallwarrior @thefallendog @jakesmolbean @trueunreal @a-ghosts @band-be-boss-blog @thecatchat @flyingfreeyt @apologieslogan

Notes: So this is probably the second to last installment. I'm ready to stop torturing poor Logan, dear Lord, boy has it rough. Fair warning, this is a long one but important, i think at least. Previous parts are in the summary if you need a refresher. As always, heed the warnings and enjoy!

"You've hardly touched your meal, my love." Logan looked up from his plate to meet concerned eyes and a worried grimace gracing his partner's face. "I apologize, Roman," he replied softly, guilt beginning a light pounding in his chest.

Roman didn't look assuaged in the slightest. "Is it not to your liking, dearest? I can make something else for you." He took Logan's hand and began rubbing the inside of his palm. Logan closed his eyes briefly at the warm, calming touch. "It's not that, Roman, your cooking is wonderful as always. It simply appears that I do not have much of an appetite this evening, that's all."

Roman's frown grew deeper. "Are you feeling sick? You should go rest, I'll make you some soup and bring it to you-"

"That won't be necessary," Logan held up the hand that was previously in Roman's soft grip, feeling the cold settle into his skin again. "I think I am just a bit over-tired." He stood to take his plate into the kitchen, taking care of the leftovers before rinsing the dish.

"Where are you going?" Roman barely fought the urge to whine.

"To lay down," Logan said from the kitchen, voice slightly raised. He walked out of the kitchen past Roman who, without warning, gripped his wrist so tightly it stole his breath. Roman's entire being seemed to be trembling.

“Don’t,” Roman gasped, the word tight with suppressed tears. Logan stared in earnest confusion and fear for how quickly the neurosurgeon was unraveling in front of him. “Don’t what, Roman?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t…disappear on me again. I just got you back. And I’m not even sure you’re all the way here. I need you. Please…don’t leave me.” The plea shook Logan to the core. Roman didn’t beg. He demanded, he decreed, he insisted, sure, but he never, ever begged for anything he wanted. Logan swallowed thickly, panic rising in his throat. He can’t sense that anything is wrong. I can’t let him see it. He lowered himself into Roman’s lap, straddling him and looping his arms around broad shoulders. He pulled them together for a passionate kiss, deep and slow, only pulling back when he felt the quivers of the younger man’s tears begin to slow. “I’m right here, Roman. I know I...went away for a while but I'm back now. You do not need to worry. I’m here.” Roman crashed their lips together a second time, the kiss more forceful and frantic. It left Logan’s head light and empty. He pulled away and rested his head on his lover’s chest, panting. Roman immediately began to fret again.

“Are you all right, mi amor? Was that too much for you? Oh, I really think you should eat something more, the amount you had wasn't nearly enough-”

Logan got up quickly, ignoring the way the room spun in front of him. “Shhh, calm, Roman, calm. You worry too much. I am adequate, I simply require some rest. Teaching Virgil is a taxing endeavor, you know how stubborn he is.” A light chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, drawing a small smirk from Roman. “There’s the smile I was looking for.” Logan leaned in for one last quick kiss, a sultry look spreading across his face. “Feel free to come join me when you’re ready. I could use some company.” He sauntered out of the room, holding himself together until the last possible second. Once he reached Roman’s bedroom, he slid down the back of the door and clutched his knees. The room rapidly became a carousel, whirling violently in his vision.

He needed more and he needed it now.

Logan crawled to his overnight bag and pulled out a medium sized manicure kit. He scrambled to his feet and into the lavish bathroom, quickly locking the door behind him. He opened the kit over the sink, careful not to spill anything onto the thick, red mat. Logan smirked to himself for being clever enough to hide his…materials in such an innocuous place, although the risk he was taking using in Roman's house was reckless enough to cancel that cleverness out completely. If he were to be caught...the consequences could be damning. At this moment though, Logan was desperate. He pushed the thoughts of being found out away from his brain as he loosened the (stolen) tourniquet and let the drug follow freely through this veins. He needed to relax. To forget. To erase the painful cacophony of loud chatter that was his mind. In a stroke of drug-induced brillance, Logan reached over to the bathtub and ran the hot water. Roman would think he was just taking a bath to relax and would patiently wait until he emerged from the bathroom, not even bothering to check on him.

Chalk another one up to him for cleverness.

He finally sunk to the floor and laid supine on the plush bathroom mat, the high crashing into him like the waves of a forbidden sea. Once the initial intensity ebbed away, he got up, ran his head under the faucet briefly and turned off the water. He quickly toweled his hair dry, packed up his manicure kit, and changed into his sleepwear, careful to pack the kit at the very bottom of his overnight bag. His limbs felt heavy as he slid into the queen-sized bed, sinking into the too-soft mattress and drifting into a sedated, dreamless sleep.

Moments later, Roman came upstairs and curled in next to his lover, not even noticing the small prick of blood that had dripped onto the red sheets from Logan's arm.

****

Virgil was, to say the very least, exhausted.

Not just tired. Deep down to the core of his bones exhausted. His hair hurt and his muscles felt like they were evaporating into the couch he laid on, groaning. Patton took pity on his tired comrade and walked over, going unnoticed by Virgil. He settled on the couch and lifted the trauma surgeon's feet to rest in his lap, earning a moan of protest that quickly turned to pleasure as the massage began.

"You are a godsend, Patton, I swear," Virgil mumbled, eyes lidded in relaxation. Patton blushed slightly from the praise. "Well, you just look so tired, I'll do anything to help. Logan's really running you ragged still, huh?"

"I'll say that. It's like residency all over again except this time I'm simultaneously running a department. You know, since...Dr. Copeland was..." Patton frowned, remembering the tragic passing of Virgil's supervisor on...that day. He shook his head of the unpleasant memory. "Well, how does that even work, Virge? You can't be in two places at once."

"Easy. Since Logan has me doing all of his surgeries, any traumas that come in that aren't cardiac get deferred to the fellow. And when I can supervise or need to adjust the schedule, I step in. If I'm free from Logan's service, then I go back to mine and take over surgeries."

Patton froze, horrified. "Virgil...that does not sound easy, that sounds awful! You're burning yourself out, how do you not see that?" Virgil spun his legs out of Patton's lap and sat up to face him, the foot rub having given him renewed energy. "I know it sounds crazy, Pat, but listen. The past few weeks have been...exhilarating. Learning new things, being in charge...look, I thought about what you said before. About a double speciality? I know I dismissed it at first but...I'm basically already running the trauma department now! If I keep this up and become a more well-rounded surgeon, maybe the Chief would take me seriously enough to promote me. I could be a permanent department head, not just a placeholder."

Patton took Virgil's hands into his own and squeezed. "Sweetheart. You are far more than just a placeholder. And you are valuable all on your own. You don't need extra specialties or a promotion to be taken seriously. Especially if getting there is going to take this much of a toll on you. I don't want to kill your dream if that's what you really want but only if you're happy and healthy doing it." Patton paused for a moment, recalling something Virgil said earlier. "Logan has you doing all of his procedures?"

"Well, yeah, but only the simple ones. Anything complicated gets deferred to his fellow."

Patton raised an eyebrow. That just didn't sound right. "So he's not operating at all?" Virgil blinked slowly as if he was just realizing the truth of Patton's words. "Yeah, I guess not...maybe he's just more focused on teaching for the moment? I mean, we're all still kind of easing our way back into normal life."

Patton clicked his tongue and folded his arms. "Except for you. You're leading two lives, doing the work of two surgeons."

Virgil shrank back. "Are you mad at me, Pat? I know I haven't been around as much but it's for a good reason." Patton sighed, taking his partner's hands a second time. "No, sweetheart, I'm not mad at you, I'm just worried about you...and Logan. It's weird that he's not operating at all."

"Is it weird that he isn't operating or is it weird that I am?" Virgil asked defensively, yanking back his hands. "You think I can't do this, right? Can't handle it, hmm?" Patton looked on shock. "No! Of course that's not what I'm saying!"

Virgil shook his head angrily, too keyed up to hear reason. "I don't get it. You were so damn excited when I first started this. You put the freakin' idea of department head in my brain and now that I actually want it, you think I can't do it! How about you make up your damn mind, huh?"

"Virgil Shea, I don't care how tired you are, I will not have you speak to me this way! You apologize this instant!" The trauma surgeon glared at Patton in stubbornness, recoiling when the older man returned the glare in spades. "You're right. I am tired. And jumping to conclusions. I'm sorry, I know you're just trying to be there for me."

Patton's expression softened considerably. "And I know you have trouble letting people do that sometimes. I'll forgive you...as long as you march yourself into that bedroom right now and sleep. You look dead on your feet...or butt since you're sitting." They both giggled as Virgil stretched, yawning and joints popping into place. He giggled a second time at Patton's disgusted frown at the noise. "Sorry, I know you hate that."

"It sounds like you're falling apart."

"It's because I am," Virgil said dryly, another yawn stealing his words. "Gonna go put myself back together with some sleep." He trudged away shuffling his feet before he paused and turned to face Patton again. "Thanks for always looking out for me, Pat."

Patton beamed. "Love you too, Virge." He watched Virgil's back fondly until he shuffled into the bedroom, leaving Patton alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that for once weren't bright and bubbly. Thoughts that he prayed weren't true but he felt almost certain they were. His smile dropped as his brain flashed the upsetting conclusion in neon lights.

It wasn't likely that he would end up being wrong but boy, would he give anything to not be right.

****

"You're doing very well, Dr. Davidson," Logan reassured, observing Virgil's work. "We should be done here soon." He glanced at the clock anxiously. "It is...taking a bit longer than expected but that is probably due to your lack of experience causing you to pause and take more of your time."

Virgil snorted. "Thanks for the constructive criticism, General. Heart-warming, truly." Virgil winced internally. "Oh God, no pun intended. Jeez, I've really gotta stop letting Patton rub off on me." Logan stole another look at the clock, obviously not absorbing anything that was just said. "You got somewhere to be, General? Is my slow pace holding you up?" Virgil chuckled behind his mask, hoping that Logan would catch the sarcasm. Instead, the older man flinched nervously and fixed the table with a wide-eyed stare. "No. I am fine. Pay attention." He spoke unusually firmly and Virgil would have responded with another sardonic retort...

If the patient's artery didn't blow right into his and Logan's face.

Oh my God, she's crashing, Virgil thought, panicked. Holy shit, okay Virge, what do you do, what do you do? "Dr. Taylor, a little help?" Virgil looked back to see a frozen Logan with his mouth gaping and fumbling to speak. "Logan! Focus! I need help, either step in or tell me what to do!" Logan couldn't hear him over the sound of firearms ringing in his ears. The blood that hit his face came from the body of David Bacall when police shot him in the head right in front of him and the gunshot looped over and over again, spraying him with more and more blood each time...

A steady beep of a regular heartbeat broke into Logan's senses. He blinked several times before registering Virgil's voice and the words that accompanied it.

"Never mind, Dr. Taylor, I secured the bleed. She's fine, I'm ready to close now." He sounded supremely irritated. Logan swallowed, still struggling to make his vocal cords work. "I see, Virgil. You did very well." Virgil barely fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah, thanks for all of your help."

Once the surgery was over, Virgil snatched off his mask and confronted Logan while they were scrubbing out. "You wanna tell me what the hell that was in there? Was that some teachable moment or did you just not feel like doing your job today?"

Logan quickly turned to face the trauma surgeon, eyes flashing with anger. "Excuse me? It is my job to teach you."

"No, you made it your job to teach me. And now I wanna know why. Why have I been killing myself running two services while you just stand there and do nothing? Are you scared or what? What's the deal? I'm done covering for you, so spill."

"I don't have a deal, Dr. Davidson. I was trying to do you a favor and help you feel more confident in your abilities as a surgeon. I see now that my efforts are wholly unappreciated." Logan cut himself off to brace himself against the sink, panting slightly. "Perhaps it is best that this arrangement comes to an end."

Virgil frowned, ignoring Logan's dissolution of their practice. "Dude, are you okay? You're sweating. Oh God." Virgil lowered his voice. "Did you have an anxiety attack in there? Did I just ream you out for having PTSD? Oh God, Lo, okay. I won't say anything about this. Have you been seeing Nate? You know you need to talk to him if-"

"Virgil, stop! I am perfectly satisfactory. You have...have nothing to worry about." The room was spinning yet again. Logan prayed Virgil didn't notice.

"No...no you aren't, Lo. And I don't know what you're running from but you are running. And you need to face it before it catches up to you." Logan stared him down determinedly for what seemed like a full minute before he finally broke eye contact. Virgil remained calm and unmoved, eyes full of compassion and longing for his friend to tell him the truth. "Our work together is done," Logan said somberly. "You may go back to trauma." Virgil watched the cardiac surgeon exit briskly. He leaned against the sink himself, heart thudding in his chest as he tried to physically shake the intrusive thoughts from his head.

He knew exactly who he needed to see.

Virgil let himself into Patton's office and waited for him to respond to his page. Moments later the fetal surgeon came striding in, worry barely concealed by a tentative smile. "Hey, what's up? I got your page, are you all right?" Virgil stood and rapidly closed the door, almost slamming it. "You were right. Something is wrong with Logan. He froze in surgery today and when I confronted him about it, he practically fell apart right in front of me...he is definitely not okay. You were right, Pat."

Patton's smile slowly faded and he closed his eyes as if to block out the truth. "Is it-"

"Don't...say it. If you say it out loud, it makes it true and...I don't know if I'm ready to go there yet."

"Have you tried to talk to him?"

"You know I can't. I've accused him of this before, he'll use that against me and shut me out." Patton nodded. "I'll talk to him then."

"Are you sure, Pat? He might get..."

"I can handle it. Besides, he's not expecting me to talk to him. It might be an advantage. I'm okay, Virge, I got this." Patton nodded, a tentative smile crawling back onto his face.

"Okay, Pat. Let's avoid saying anything to Roman until we're sure. If we're right...this will crush him."

"I know, Virge. First priority is Logan."

"We have to fix this." Virgil sounded choked. Patton's eyes widened and he pulled the taller man into his chest, warming him with his embrace.

"We will try our best to, Virge. We will definitely try."

****

Logan was grateful that he had gotten quick at this. Patton had ended up at his door much sooner than he calculated after the bubbly doctor paged him asking for a visit. Normally, using at work was to be avoided at all costs but this time, it was justified if he was to bear the sunshiny disposition of Dr. Patton Parker today. After disposing of his materials in a hazmat bag, Logan leaned back in his desk chair, bracing himself for a loaded conversation. A soft knock at the door came moments later and in walked Patton, a dimmed smile dancing across his lips.

"Hiya, Logan."

"Dr. Parker. You appear to be...subdued."

"Me?" Patton pointed to himself. "No, of course not. I was just thinking."

Logan made a noise of mild disbelief. "I see. If you've come to defend Virgil, I'm sorry but I am no longer the right person to teach him-"

"Calm down, Logan. This isn't a confrontation. Just a...visit! But since we're on the topic, Virgil has truly had a wonderful time with you. He's learned so much and he has this new drive; it's honestly incredible to watch."

Logan shrugged. "I'm sure he won't be singing my praises after today. I'm assuming he told you and that's why you're here? To check on me?" Patton pursed his lips and tutted in mock annoyance. "Again, no. Can't I just want to visit a friend? Besides, we all have off days in the OR. It happens." A moment of silence went between the two before Patton continued. "You know, I was never cut out for cardiothoracics."

Logan's eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry? What do you mean?"

Patton smiled warmly as he spoke. "When I was in med school, I struggled to find my way...a lot. It felt like everyone else around me knew exactly what they wanted and I was the only loser wandering around a lab with no goals. It got me to a point where I didn't really...value my life, so to speak. Then I had my first OB rotation and got to assist with a live birth. That, for me...was like a light bulb turning on in my head. When I handed that baby over to the mother, I thought: 'This person could cure cancer or bring about world peace and I just helped bring them into the world safely.' And I just knew after that I had found my purpose. What better way to appreciate the value of my life than making sure another life gets off to a solid, healthy beginning? It couldn't have felt more right."

Logan nodded in a slow and slightly exaggerated expression, feeling the drug slow his movements and thinking. "That's...lovely, Patton but I'm not sure..."

"Just let me finish, Lo. My point is...I was too soft for cardio. And that's fine because I love what I do. Virgil isn't cut out for cardio either, by the way. He's good at it because he's brilliant but he belongs in trauma. He knows what it's like to start with nothing and come back stronger and he takes every patient that he saves coming through those ER doors on that journey expertly. He is a trauma surgeon. But you? You were built for cardio, wouldn't you agree?"

Logan looked down to fiddle with his tie. "Knew I wanted to be surgeon my whole life. Cardio came in college."

"Exactly. You cardio folks are so similar. You're driven and decisive, hyper-intelligent, disciplined, in love with the medicine, maybe a bit of a know it all at times and you know what you want and you go for it, 110 percent. But you know what else you are? Highly responsible. And of course you are, you have to be, you literally hold life in your hands. You sleep a perfect eight hours before surgery, you exercise, hydrate, nourish yourselves regularly and save lives all without missing a beat. That is you, Logan. Or was you."

Logan's head shot up at that. "Was?"

Patton fixed Logan with an intense look, one that had him squirming slightly. "Mmhmm. So I have to wonder: what would make someone suddenly fall out of love with their purpose? What would make a cardio surgeon not operate? What would make them come to work constantly exhausted, drawn out from skipping meals and lack of sleep? What would make them give up their discipline? Sounds pretty irresponsible, right? Except it doesn't. Because if a responsible, medicine-obsessed cardiothoracic surgeon was on drugs, he wouldn't dare touch a patient. But he wouldn't stray too far from the medicine either." Logan's eyes widened in shock. "You-you can't be suggesting-"

"You're high right now, aren't you?" Patton's tone was far from condemning, a sad sort of sympathy coloring his words. Logan was staring down at his desk, his entire body trembling as his carefully constructed wall came tumbling down. "What you're accusing me of is-"

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Logan. I'm not going to go running to the Chief, I'm not going to threaten you with rehab. I just want you to know that I know. And I'm here. I can help you, we all can help you."

"I am handling it myself. I can handle it."

"Logan Taylor, if you think I believe that for a second, you're deeper in denial than I thought. You can't handle this alone. And you shouldn't. At all. You need your people in your corner." Patton watched the other surgeon's head dip slightly, a fresh wave of tears spilling over his cheeks before he looked up again, chest heaving. "Please...don't tell Roman. I'm not...he can't...he can't know."

"You need to be the one to tell him, I agree but if this goes too far...I will do whatever it takes to save your life. Know that, Logan."

You shouldn't, Logan thought bitterly. "I am handling this, Patton."

The fetal surgeon sighed and nodded, accepting the small progress they made today. He stood to leave, conceding his final point to his colleague. "All right, Logan. I'm not gonna push you. Not today. Today you rest. Tomorrow, we start fresh, okay?" Logan nodded wordlessly, not even looking as Patton exited. He walked over to his window, drew the blinds, and collapsed on the couch, simultaneously feeling nothing and everything all at once. A chilling, insidious numbness froze him at the core and settled into his bones, locking him in place. He couldn't even bring himself to cry anymore; the numbness was far too overwhelming.

If the drugs were supposed to take away the pain, then why did he still hurt so much?

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