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Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

Note: Okay this is a big one, I wrote this over the course of like 3 days I think? Anyway I hope you like it because it's probably the longest chapter I've ever written for one of my stories <3

Chapter One

It was just five in the morning when Adaline Miller woke up. Her head still a little groggy from a decent night’s sleep and her fading dreams. She turned to see Joel still asleep beside her; his gentle snores muffled into his pillow. She smiled and leaned over kissing his bare shoulder before rolling out of bed to get ready for her day.

Stepping downstairs towards the kitchen, Ada realised just how cold it was when she noticed how frosted over the windows had become overnight. Ada hated winter. It was her least favourite season. After everything that had happened almost five years ago it wasn’t hard to understand why. Even now she still sometimes had nightmares about it.

Waking up to find Joel cold in his bed; his stomach wound torn open. Blood everywhere. Or finding Ellie beaten and bruised, left alone in that burned out restaurant.

Joel had always been there to console her, holding her until she calmed down. His voice low to just a whisper as he told her everything was okay. She was safe. He was there and he wasn’t ever going to leave.

It was a comfort she appreciated even after being married to the man for just under four years.

Stepping through into the kitchen, the brunette quickly got to work preparing some eggs on the stove for breakfast before moving across the counter to make up a pot of coffee for herself and Joel. She still wasn’t totally sure what her husband had traded for the beans; but Joel had seemed rather embarrassed by it for some reason. Though after finally getting to taste coffee again after so long, she didn’t much care she supposed. After the hot water was boiled she poured the beverage out, setting aside Joel’s favourite owl mug for when he came down.

Joel had always been an early riser and more often than not, he was almost always the one that beat her to the kitchen in the morning. It had taken some time after settling in Jackson to actually get the man to finally relax a little. It was unfortunate for Ada that he had taken that to mean ‘no sleeping in past seven’. Even on days off, Joel was up before the sun. Lucky Ada had found her own ways to at least keep him in bed past seven on those days; sleeping or otherwise. Thankfully Joel never complained.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the creaking of the stairs as Ada glanced up to meet eyes with Joel. His arms stretched above his head and suppressing a yawn. He stepped through the door, his hand dropping to scratch at his bearded chin.

“Morning darlin’.” Joel slurred, heading straight for his coffee mug. “Hold on...why are you dressed already?” Ada questioned. Her egg covered spoon gesturing at him in his winter gear. Joel followed her gaze, his brows raised in confusion. “I thought you weren’t on patrol until this afternoon.” She clarified.

“Oh yeah...forgot to tell you last night. Change of plans. Tommy’s gotten word of a horde gathering near the ski lodge.” He explained between sips, leaning against the counter, crossing one foot over the over. “Reckon we needed to deal with it quickly before it gets to be a problem.”

Ada pouted but said nothing, her gaze turning from Joel back to her scrambled eggs on the stove. Joel sighed abandoning his mug on the side as he moved across towards her. His arms wrapping around her waist and resting his chin over her shoulder.

“I can hear you thinking.” He said lowly into her ear. But again Ada said nothing. He sighs moving to kiss her neck but she turns her head away as he does.

He hates this. He hates when she worries. It’s always the same routine when he heads out for clean up duty. Clearing out infected is never an easy job but it is what keeps Jackson safe. They both know that. But still whenever he’s due to leave for another job, Ada goes quiet. She’s distant and he fucking hates it.

It was the same when Ellie first asked to train for patrol, they’d been reluctant. And while they were both well aware of Ellie’s skills and her strength; it was still hard watching their baby girl in such a hurry to go out alone without them.

His arms around her waist squeeze gently as he pulls her close to his chest, his head over her shoulder stealing a kiss on her cheek.

“Baby please stop worrying, I’ll be fine.” He knew it was a foolish thing to promise because the world they lived in wasn’t safe. You never knew what the next day would bring. But if there was anything in this world Joel would find to fight for; it was coming home to his wife. His family.

Ada dumped the cooked eggs onto the plates laid out, they were a little burned on the edges. She hadn’t been paying that much attention to them if she was honest. Then turned in her husband’s arms to face him.

“Back by dinner or I kick your ass.” She warned playfully. “Deal.” He chuckled, pulling her close as their lips met in a kiss.

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It didn’t take long for Ada to get to the stables when she’d finished breakfast. After reluctantly pulling herself from Joel’s arms; they’d both parted ways as the older man went to meet his brother at the gate.

She’d quickly threw herself into her list of jobs for the day, hoping it would take her mind off her worry.

“Morning Max.” She smiled at the stable hand, walking through to the back room. “Mornin’ Ada, whadda we got today?” he grinned in reply, his frame leaning through the door as she tidied her workspace. Collecting all her notes and paperwork together.

“Well Daisy has been lame for a couple days so she needs to stay on box rest. Then I need King and Blue tacked up before noon.” She explained, her eyes never leaving the sheets of paper in her hand. “Bob and Maggie are headed out on patrol so they need them ready before half twelve.”

“You got it boss!” Max assured with a joyful grin, sending her a mock salute. She chuckled at the old man as he disappeared from the doorway, but she quickly caught up to him, catching herself on the wooden frame.

“Oh! Could you also take Barnaby out into the paddock this morning please? He had a touch of colic yesterday and I want to keep his gut moving to make sure it’s passed.” She explained. Max simply nodded and turned to make a start on his duties. Ada always liked Max. He was an older gentleman, around seventy years old but still incredibly fit for his age. He’d arrived in Jackson a few years after herself, Ellie and Joel. Along with his grandsons from somewhere near Montana. Having the experience of running his own ranch before the Outbreak; he’d been the perfect fit to help Ada run the stables and take care of the horses.

She continued through until around nine o’ clock, just making the finishing touches to the poultice she’d wrapped around the gelding’s leg she was treating. “There ya go buddy.” She cooed sweetly, giving the horse a soft scratch behind the ears as he nickered in reply.

“Morning Ada!” A familiar voice greeted as the brunette moved to close the stable door closed behind her. “Morning Dina, you out on patrol this morning?”

“Yep, heading out on the creek trails with Ellie.” She smiled, Ada quickly returning it as they both looked to Ellie walking through the door. “How’s my boy?” Dina asked, grabbing Ada’s attention once again.

“Oh he’s fine, Japan had a little mud fever but I think we got it under control now. He’s good to go. All tacked up for you with Max down there.” Dina gave her a quick thumbs up and threw a thanks over her shoulder as she ran down towards the back of the barn. Leaving the woman alone with her adoptive daughter who slowly trailed behind.

“Good morning sunshine. How are you feeling this morning?” She teased. Ellie rolled her eyes at her mother’s smirk.

“Oh jeez don’t. I already got half the town giving me weird looks.” She whined. After the dance the night before, her kiss with Dina, Seth drunk and aggressively harassing the girls; it had certainly been the talk of the town the following morning. Ellie was just hoping she could outlive the embarrassment.

“So you and Dina patrolling together huh? That should be interesting. Have you talked to her yet?” “Ugh mom stop!” Ellie hissed softly, her lips twitching into a subtle smile.

“What? I like her, she’s a sweet girl. You two would be so cute together.” The teen stifled a giggle as she playfully shoved her mom’s shoulder, the older woman chuckling in return. “Shut up.”

The laughter faded when Ada sighed in thought, Ellie glancing back knowing what was coming next. Her gaze immediately falling to her feet.

“You uh...you talk to Joel yet?” She asked cautiously. For the past two years; it had been a sore subject for Ellie whenever Ada brought Joel up in conversations. After finding out the truth back in Salt Lake; she’d been so angry at both of them for everything they had kept from her. But after learning that Joel had been the one that pulled the trigger. That one that had made that decision for all of them and acted alone, she’d declared she wanted nothing more to do with him. And while it had been hard for Ada to be stuck in the middle; she’d still tried her damn hardest to build a bridge between them.

“A little...but one conversation isn’t going to fix everything.” She mumbled. Her foot kicking at the mud covered floor, eyes never leaving the ground.

“It’s a start though. Baby he really misses you.” she said. “I know. I still don’t know if I can forgive him for what he did though. But I am willing to try.” Ellie said softly, her hands now pulling at her jacket sleeves. “I uh...I was thinking of maybe inviting him over for a movie night tomorrow. If that’s okay?”

Ada smiled at this. It had been hard with Ellie not speaking to Joel for so long, watching the man she loved struggle with losing a daughter that no longer wanted anything to do with him. It was obvious he was hurting even if he never said the words out loud. He missed Ellie, he’d be so grateful to hear she wanted to do movie night again, for the first time in so long.

“Of course it is. When you get back from patrol we’ll figure something out okay? Joel’s out with Tommy but he should be back by dinner.”

Ellie simply nodded with a timid smile before turning towards Max waiting with Shimmer.

“Hang on, gotcha some lunch. I still worry you ain’t eating enough.” Ada shouted after her, reaching into her backpack to hand her daughter the pack of food she’d prepared.

“Thank you!” Dina called before Ellie had the chance to reply, swiping the pack out of Ada’s hand. “Hey! She said my lunch!” Ellie poked in jest. The teen simply scoffed peaking through the bag to see what was inside. “Our lunch...there’s plenty for both of us. Let’s see; turkey sandwiches, nice.” Dina continued snooping through the pack while Ellie merely rolled her eyes as Ada stood with folded arms smirking at the two. They really were cute together.

“Oh shit! No way, Ellie there’s cookies in here! Awesome! Thanks Ada!”

Ada laughed at Dina’s joy as Ellie reluctantly followed behind, snatching the packed lunch back and stuffing it into her bag before Dina could complain.

“Ugh I haven’t had cookies since I was a kid. I fucking love your mom, she’s just the best.” Dina complimented as she mounted Japan, taking the reins and walking the gelding out into the snow, Ellie not far behind on Shimmer. The young girl turned back to take one last glance at her mother brushing down another horse, a smile lighting up her face.

“Yeah, yeah she is.” Ellie agreed.

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After such an early start, Ada was pleased when the day was beginning to draw to an end. She’d not stopped the whole day and she was tired.

When the time came to feed and bed down the horses for the night, she was more than ready to head home, eat dinner, maybe snuggle up to Joel on the couch to watch a movie and call it a day. She’d already sent Max home to his boys when she finished up the last of her routine checks to close up the barn; when she’d been ambushed by both Jesse and Dina.

They both looked terrified, Dina with tear stained cheeks and Jesse breathless and shell shocked like he’d just run for miles without taking a second to breathe.

The brunette couldn’t remember much of what was said when they’d bombarded her with information. Only that something bad had happened and it had happened to Joel.

A thousand thoughts had rushed through her head at once. A flash of images muddled with the white noise that squealed in her ears the closer she ran towards the infirmary. Her nightmare was coming true and she felt like she was drowning. Lost in a dark ocean of uncertainty, falling without a lifeline to hold on to.

When she burst through the doors, Tommy was the first to reach her. She winced aghast at seeing his injuries. His swollen black eye, the deep bloodied gash on his forehead. She felt numb as her brother in law explained what had happened. What those bastards had done to her husband. Shot and beaten mercilessly. Her heart ached, her eyes raw from the tears she’d cried. And what made the whole thing worse, was that Ellie had been there to see the whole thing.

Ada had tried to brace herself before stepping into Joel’s room, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. Ellie was sat slumped over his bedside, her hand clinging to his as he lay unconscious. The scuff of her mother’s boots grabbing her attention as she rose to her feet and met her halfway when Ada rushed towards her with open arms.

“Mom!” Ellie whimpered and it reminded her all too much of that night all those years ago. Ada squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled Ellie closer, her heart beating in her ears.

“Oh baby girl.” She soothed, her hand gently stroking her back for comfort. “I tried…” Ellie hiccuped. “I tried to stop them. I begged them to stop but they wouldn’t listen. And I told Joel to get up, just fucking get up.” Her voice broke as the girl choked back another sob and Ada couldn’t help her own tears as she listened silently. Gently guiding Ellie back to Joel’s bedside so she could sit, all the while the mother never once letting go of her daughter.

“I told him to get up, but it was like he’d just given up.” She explained quietly. Her shaking hands reaching up to wipe at her sore bloodshot eyes. Her cheeks and nose reddened from her tears. “The doctor said he needs to be asleep for a while, something about something needing time to settle?! I don’t fucking know!” She shouted in frustration, almost collapsing from exhaustion in her chair.

Ada merely nodded solemnly. Tommy had partly explained before she’d rushed to Joel. The doctor had insisted on keeping Joel sedated to give the brain time to heal itself while the swelling subsides. Ada just hoped it wouldn’t take too long for him before he was able to wake up.

As the night drew on Ellie had finally given in to her fatigue, stretching on the old beat up couch in the corner of the room. Tommy had thoughtfully brought her a blanket and a bag of clothes for the girls before heading home himself, Ada swearing that she would send Ellie the second they had any news on his brother.

It wasn’t until then that Ada had the still and the silence of the night did she truly take in Joel’s injuries. His leg, broken and mangled. It had been a damn miracle that they’d even be able to save it. But there had been a reasonable amount of confidence it would eventually heal, though Joel would definitely have some difficulty getting around at first and most likely a permanent limp afterwards; he was damn lucky in that respect.

His head injuries however were a different story. There were still flecks of dried blood in patches of his dark head where the club had struck. Patches of hair cut away, close to the scalp in order to reach the violent blows into his crown. Deep cuts and dark bruises covered his handsome face. A good chunk of his ear was missing, she’d noticed as she softly brushed her fingers through his hair in a feeble attempt to clean him up. It had been treated and neatly stitched but would most likely leave a scar.

Her lips trembled as a quiet sob worked its way up into her throat, her eyes blurred from the welling tears the longer she looked at him.

She should have been there...Why hadn’t she been there?!

The days went by and Joel still hadn’t woken up. The doctor took him off sedation a few days after the attack, in the hopes he would come around on his own. The endless nights slowly dragging by, each holding with it a suffocating pause that felt to be drawing out longer and longer. Like the string of a bow, pulling tighter and tighter until it was closely reaching its breaking point, a moment of holding strong until it was too much to bear.

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It had been exactly nine days later when Joel eyelids flickered. His fingers twitched and convulsed as he finally began to regain consciousness.

A string of mumbles and panicked gasps uttered from his dry lips as he stirred awake. And Ellie and Ada were right there beside him. The young girl skidding on her heel as she took off through the door in order to grab Tommy.

“Joel? Can you hear me?” Ada asked delicately. Her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Tentatively reaching out to place her hand upon his as he moved to face her with squinted eyes.

“Wher...Where?” He tried to speak. His voice low and rough like gravel. It strained against his dry throat. Ada quickly moving to his bedside to help him drink from the glass of water placed beside him.

He winced but managed a few mouthfuls before lowering himself back down against his pillow. His tired eyes darted around the room, breath quickening and short the more the confusion set in as to how he’d ended up there.

“You're in the infirmary. You were out with Tommy and were attacked.” Ada explained carefully, Joel’s eyes drifting back towards her sat by his bedside. “Was anyone else hurt?” He asked. “Tommy got roughed up a little, bump on the head and a black eye. Couple of bruised ribs but he’ll be fine.”

Joel simply nodded at the information. His eyes never leaving Ada.

“Is Sarah okay? I assume she’s with Tommy, could you call her? Tell her I’m okay…” He spoke so casually, Ada almost didn’t hear what he’d said. But yet there was no change in his eyes as he asked the question. “How long do you reckon till I can head home?”

This question made Ada stop cold. Her heart slowing and her breath catching in her throat.

“Joel... do you know who I am?”

He looked at her like she was crazy, the confusion met in the touching of his dark brows creasing with his forehead. “Yeah, you’re my doctor.”

It was at that moment Ada almost collapsed. When she realised there was truly no hint of recognition in Joel’s eyes as he stared at her.

Her worst fear realised; her own husband saw her as a stranger.

STUDY  :  HISUI

۝  BASICS

IS YOUR MUSE TALL  /  SHORT  /  AVERAGE? He seems pretty tall for his age??? I mean given Kohaku’s probably not the tallest person out there but for some reason I just think he began to sprout up like a tree and is still very much growing boy. His sister’s are definitely taller than him but I think he’s taller than Moroha and probably slightly more than Setsuna and close if not the same height as Towa.

ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT? Yeah, teasing like that doesn’t really bother him except when his sister’s are needling him about his forehead.

WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? His hair's pretty long. Miroku’s was about at his shoulders and Hisui’s ponytail is slightly fuller and seems to have more to it so I’d say his is just past his shoulders. He won’t cut it and wears it tied back, like his father and Uncle have shown him to do so it doesn’t become a means of exploit in battle. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll have a ponytail like mama. 

DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR  /  GROOMING? I don’t think so? Like, he’s definitely hygenic and takes care of his appearance but just pulling it back like that tells me he’s a two step kinda guy and is kind of on the always on the go. 

DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE  /  WHAT OTHERS THINK? I think he’s definitely a sensitive boy but would really only care about the opinions of people that care about him. If his mom, father or Uncle said he looked unprofessional he’d clean up, for sure. The only thing he’s adamant about is the way he wears his uniform and the collar around his neck. He finds it too restricting and distracting in a fight. 

۝  PREFERENCES

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? Outdoors

RAIN OR SUNSHINE? Sunshine, because it’s easier to train and fight demons when you’re not slipping and sliding through grass or mud.

FOREST OR BEACH? Forest

PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? Precious metals. He works with his hands a lot and cleans a lot of his own weapons and admittedly has shown some of his teammates how to care for theirs.

FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? Flowers. He brings them home for his mom and sisters a lot.

PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? Personality, for sure. 

BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? Either. I like to say that he does sometimes prefer to be alone with his thoughts but more often then naught he’ll chase after or offer to do something with his family or friends because he likes spending time on them.

ORDER OR ANARCHY? Order. Keeper of the peace, future hero of the village! >3

PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? Painful Truths. He’d rather his family be honest with him and let him deal and process things than keep things from him. Yeah I’m looking at YOU Uncle Kohaku, we know the series is gonna go there and you’re defs hiding something from my boy.

SCIENCE OR MAGIC? Magic. It’s feudal japan so.

PEACE OR CONFLICT? Peace. He fights to protect people so they can have an easy future (and in his family’s case they deserve it)

NIGHT OR DAY? Both? Depends on the shift work.

DUSK OR DAWN? Dawn, new start. New begginings.

WARMTH OR COLD? Warmth. He’s a warm person and definitely makes others feel good about themselves.

MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? Both. He’s well known in his community and has a few close friends he spends a lot of time with.

READING OR PLAYING A GAME? Reading. He likes talking to his father about his beliefs because he recognizes he has much to learn from Miroku as he does from Sango.

۝  QUESTIONNAIRE

WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? Hisui gets in his head. A LOT. He internalizes and worries about other people. He worries about living up to expectations and falling short of them or failing to do something right. He has a few insecurities and definitely a lot of vulnerability and survivors guilt in some verses that I write. He wants so badly to be someone his parents are proud of. They fought to give him a comfortable, safe, full life so he owes that to them right?

HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? This verse dependent so I’ll try and outline a few.

In my canon Yashahime verse, that’s developing as the series progresses we see that Sango, Miroku, and his sisters are all gone and the only family member he has left is his Uncle Kohaku. Now varying outcomes of how he feels depends on how much he a) remembers and b) what he’s been told. I have a sneaking suspicion that both Kohaku and Hisui were out training when whatever happened went down. Thus, he’d know that he had a family but to the extent of what he believes happened and how much he knows - we don’t yet. However this will be a VERY IMPORTANT defining moment to Hisui’s character. Because while some of the other main cast may not remember they even had families he does. And to have this happen to him HURT HIM DEEPLY. I don’t know how he’d possibly process those emotions or if he even fully has. I feel like he threw himself into his training, carried on with his life either again - depending on what he knows - hoping to find them again someday or just believing their dead and trying to continue on. But regardless, family for him in this verse is a VERY touchy subject and not something to talk to him about. He’s pushed his Uncle away whenever the subject’s been broached and after not talking for a few days, they’ve just moved on and went back to the way things were before. This verse hurts me a lot so I need all these children to be reunited with their parents at the end of this Sunrise, okay??? >’(  you better not do me dirty. MirSan and InuKag deserve better. 

In my canon divergent yashahime slayer verse, Hisui has all of his family nothing really bad has happened - the only lesson he’s learnt thus far is to be more careful. I’ve mentioned an incident in this verse where he saved a young girl during a demon’s attack on their village but took a bad injury in his leg that became infected and left him bedroom for 6-8 weeks. This was his first reality check and he had to work hard to get back to where he was physically, but he’s much less impulsive than before and only gives (a few) hero speeches every once in a great blue moon because xD he’s just never gonna grow out of that. 

WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? Applies to several Canon Divergent and AU verses.

Oh god so many. I’ll list a few here.

- training with his mother and uncle. Watching them glow with pride as he grows up and gets better and better, wanting to help them rebuild their village. 

- walks and late night talks with his father. Those are REALLY special to him and he remembers distinctly his father carrying him back to bed when he was young, having fallen asleep as he was teaching him a lesson about life. Miroku tucks him and smooths back his hair and tells him quietly that he loves him so much. 

- mother passing on her hiraikotsu and kirara to him, one morning out of the blue. He’s speechless and ends up crying and hugging her tight. 

- days, afternoons and evenings spent over at his aunt and uncles. He helps Kagome do laundry, plays with moroha and sometimes his sisters join. 

- Since he was a baby he follows inuyasha around and tries to imitate his swagger and confidence. Inuyasha loves his nephew he’s such dorky cute little potat. 

- Getting the lecture of his and moroha’s LIFE when they took their parents weapons to go train in the forest. 

- spending time with the wolf demon tribe when their folks had to go on out of town missions as a group. Koga, Moroha and Hisui fishing, training, running off to go fight things that are ten times stronger than them and Koga dragging their asses back to his pack to blister their ears like wHY is it always YOU TWO. But he loves those trouble makers.  

IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? evil demons? A hundred percent. Doesn’t bat an eyelash because they’re preying on people and he needs to protect them. Regular humans though, that are evil and preying on women and children weaker than them? He has a hard time. He doesn’t understand how a person can be that much of a vile monster. And though he should have the stomach for it, sometimes he really doesn’t. He hates injuring people possessed by demons too. He’s like his father in that he’ll try and non lethally exorcise it or beat it out of them and help care for their wounds later. 

WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? Oh.. My. Gosh. My heart. He’s really.... soft boy and keeps a lot of his emotions to himself so when he breaks down it’s water works. Hiccups, heavy breathing, just shivers and trying to snuff out the sound he’s making but he only gets louder and louder till he has to let it all out. Like, we heard his lungs as a kid. Boy can cry a river.

IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? Absolutely. WHen he fights beside Setsuna and Kohaku he knows they have his back. He wouldn’t even question that for a second, just as they (probably) wouldn’t question their trust in him. He’d fight hard to protect them and know they would do the same. His family too, the few times in my canon divergent verses he’s fought beside his mother or father and Inuyasha and Moroha. 

WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? I think maturity wise he’s not there yet. He’s still young and has a lot he wants to focus on and do with his life. Speculatively, I think when he’s older he would definitely want the kind of open, affectionate, caring relationship that his father and mother have. That he sees his Aunt and Uncle have. But that’s a long ways down the road. 

Tagged by: @shirokodomo (thanks el!)

Tagging: @senpujin , @eternityheir , @crimsonkunshu , @amorous-monk and whoever else wants to do/steal this !!!!!

I Wonder.

A Rafael Barba and Amelia ‘Emma’ Herrera Story.

Summery: Amelia ‘Emma’ broke up with Rafael when he was 18 and she was just 16. He left for Harvard and Emma left for Italy two years later when she graduated. Fast-forward Fourteen years when Emma and Rafael run into each other again. Will there still be sparks between the two or have they both changed too much to be together again?

Word Count: 1,622

Chapter Three!

chapters- One - Two

Warnings: There are some cursing here. A little abuse from a patient. Death. Emma cries. Kinda sad. I never know what to put here.

After that day at the café with Rafael, the conversation between the two of them became less and less. Emma had a feeling he didn’t appreciate her words about why she broke up with him. Not that that was her problem, if he didn’t like it, oh well. It was the truth and if he couldn’t handle it. That’s his problem.

But when three months passed and April was nearing, Emma found herself looking at her phone as she was having lunch. Looking at the text messages between her and Rafael. It had been over two weeks since either one of them sent anything to the other. Not that they would even talk much, mostly good mornings and good nights. At least when she wasn’t working and could respond. She hated to admit it, but Emma missed talking to the man, she missed him in general. After years of being separated, Emma found herself missing everything about Rafael.

The little remarks he would make, the fact that he was serious 90 percent of the time. The other 10 percent he was sarcastic. The suits she would see him in, the look of pure determination on his face. But even now when she gets off work and heads to her little coffee shop ritual. She would be entering, and Rafael would be leaving. Always on the phone and it seemed important. And so, she never bothered him. Leaving it as it is.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Dr. Herrera?” Emma turned to see one of the nurses standing before her. The two were working the ER floor together. There seemed to be a shortage of nurses and so Emma offered her help, knowing she would be paged if she was needed up on the pediatric floor.“Can you look at our John Doe over there?” she asked and pointed to a guy sitting in a chair holding his upper arm with a bloody towel.

“Of course, just, keep security around. He looks ready to bolt out of here.” She nodded to the nurse and walked over to the man.

As she checked him out, asking questions on what happened and trying to get information on him. Emma started to get impatient. Not that she showed that, she just smiled as she took her John Doe to emergency room 3, nodding to a nurse as she passed. As she talked to the guy, checking the wound after having to cut his shirt off. Needing to make sure nothing else was hit or hurt. Emma felt a little uneasy. “Well… it doesn’t seem to have hit anything important; you were very lucky.” She said and shook her head. “I’m just going to go grab what I need to stitch you up and you’ll be good as new...” she smiled at him and left the room.

“Get the cops here. It’s a gunshot wound, he refuses to give his name or any information at all… I’m pretty sure he’s high on something.” Emma told her friend Ava, the nurse who requested she check out the John Doe.

Returning with the tray with everything she would need to stitch up his arm. Smiling at her John Doe, Emma pulled on her gloves and opened each package. Giving him a shot anesthetic to numb the area around the two bullet holes. As she started to stitch the wound, she went slowly, being careful since he kept flinching and moving slightly.

“Can you hurry the fuck up?” he hissed at Emma who glanced up at the male.

“Well, I’m trying to go as fast as I can.” She assured him and she gasped when his hand gripped at her forearm.

“Well then, I suggest you go faster. Got it?” he seethed at her and before Emma could say anything, a male called out.

“Hey! Get your hands off her!”

Emma looked over and was taken back. The man came over and quickly pulled the hand off her forearm and Emma hissed when John Doe’s fingernail scrapped at her skin.

“I’m guessing you’re the little punk who shot at my partner an hour ago. Daniel Warren, you’re under arrest for shooting at a police officer, trafficking cocaine and selling drugs to under-aged kids. You have the right to remain silent….” As he was reading the guys rights, Emma quickly finished the last bit of the stitches and stepped back.

Throwing everything away in its rightful trash can. Emma watched a little spooked as another officer came in and took the guy away.

“Are you ok, doc?” The guy who had handcuffed her john doe- er Daniel, asked and Emma nodded.

“Just a regular day in the ER when a criminal gets handsy.” She joked before looking at her forearm and frowned at the fact that it was bruising from where Daniel had grabbed her. There also being two scratches from his nails. “Well shit…” she mumbled and went to clean up the area.

“Well, I’m gonna need to take your statement from treating Daniel. We’ve been trying to bust him for some time…” he followed Emma and she glanced at the officer. “I’m Detective Nick Amaro. I work in the Narcotics Unit.” He held his hand out and Emma blushed slightly.

“Dr. Amelia Herrera. But please, call me Emma.” She shook his hand, the two smiling at the other. “Uh, right. Statement. We can talk over here.” She mentioned for him to follow her into the Staff Room.

Making a beeline right to the coffee maker. Emma offers Nick a cup and was soon making two. Once she handed off the coffee to him, she snickered when he commented on the fact it was better than what he drank at Narcotics. As she gave him her statement about the guy Daniel. She told him everything from his arrival, refusing to give any information. The fact he was arrogant and aggressive the whole time. She smiled once they finished.

After they traded number, in case he had any more questions, or she remembered anything else. The two shared a smile and Emma walked Nick to the exit. After goodbyes were said, she returned to the nurses’ station ready to go and check on her patients.

“So… the detective was pretty cute.” Ava smirked at Emma, who acted as if she didn’t hear her friend.

“Did the results for my patient in room 4 ever come back?” she asked as she looked over the charts with a small smile. Winking at Ava, Emma went to go see how the teenage boy who had gotten a CT Scan of his head was holding up.

At 5pm, a full ten hours past her usual hour for leaving the hospital. Emma rubbed her eyes. Nearing six that morning, three women came to the hospital. Three women with complications and a baby that was coming way too early. So being asked to say, just in case. Emma stayed. Having to assist all three pregnancies during the day. The first being at ten in the morning, where the preterm baby was born at just 26 weeks. Emma jumping right to care for the small infant along with Her team. Before placing him in the NICU, the small thing being born with an infection that they caught and was now treating. The next birth happened 3 hours later Emma had been sleeping when she was called. The baby came at 25 weeks and there was complication right from the moment he was delivered. When the baby didn’t make it, Emma found herself in the hospital staff showers crying. She knew there was nothing she could do but having to tell the parents broke her. Staying down in the ER, Ava distracting her.

She was called back when around 3 in the afternoon. Emma caught that there was something wrong with the way the baby was breathing while doing the check-up. Stepping up and having to intubate the premature girl. She explained what was going on to the parents. Explaining what RDS was and how their child will have to stay in the NICU until she was able to breath properly on her own. Until then, she would have to be on the ventilator.

When Emma finally left the hospital. She felt like a mess. Her heart ached and her head felt heavy.“Amelia?” she heard a familiar voice call out and the girl squeezed her eyes shut.

Turning to see Rafael standing there, looking like a hot mess. He walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, surprising Emma. “Have you been working this whole time?” he asked, though he never gave her a chance to speak. “When I didn’t see you at the café this morning, I stopped by your apartment. But you never answered the buzzer. Then you weren’t answering your phone and texts all day… I left the office early and came here.” He explained and her lip trembled.

“I… Our pediatrician is out with a cold… I needed to stay. Three women giving birth to premature babies…” she told him as tears slid down her flushed cheeks. “One didn’t make it… I couldn’t do anything.” she cried and was soon engulfed in a hug and crying into his chest.

“Está bien cariño...” He whispered in her ear. “I’m sure you did everything you could.” He added and she just cried.

By the time Emma finally calmed down, she allowed Rafael to help her go home. Arriving at her apartment, she thanked him and assured the man she’ll text him if she needed anything. Seeing as she was taking the next 24 hours off. Only going into work if she was called. Something she hoped wouldn’t happen.

Tagging- @the-baby-bookworm​ @sweetsummertime99​  Feedback is always welcomed! Heart and Reblog! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! <3

The Only One - A Virgil H/C Tumblr Ask

Summary: Virgil has a secret that the Light Sides and Thomas are completely unaware of, but the Dark Sides unfortunately aren’t. The Dark Sides are spending more and more time in the main area of the Mindscape now that Thomas and the Light Sides are trying to accept them as part of the famILY. What does this mean for Virgil?

This is an ask that Tumblr ate, so to the anon that requested it, I’m so sorry if you’re only seeing this now!! I actually really enjoyed writing this!!

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience. Tumblr ate most of my fics that I know I posted here, which makes me very sad for a lot of reasons, one of the biggest being that the love and comments and tags that folks showed this fic is gone into the ether. I’ll be making a masterlist to help prevent this from happening again.

TW: Trans guy Virgil, gender dysphoria, transphobia, deadnaming (kind of), misgendering, minor physical violence, blood, knives, Unsympathetic Deceit, Unsympathetic Remus, bullying, harrassment, forced undressing, crying, angst w/ a happy ending.

Word Count: 3367

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Virgil curled his hands in the thick quilt on his bed. He’d encountered Deceit and Remus of all Sides that day and had hid in his room ever since. He couldn’t even be bothered to replace his shirt; he’d just thrown the tattered remains on the floor and crawled under the covers in shock, trembling with silent tears going down his face.

“Kiddo! Dinner’s ready!”

Virgil swallowed, trying to get past the lump in his throat. “Sorry Pat, I’m not feeling well,” he called back, voice gravelly.

Patton spoke more softly this time. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry to hear that! Do you want me to bring you some soup or water?”

Despite his trauma, he smiled through his tears. He’s too good for me. “No thanks Pat, I think I just want to sleep right now.”

“Okay! Let me know if there’s anything I can do!”

“Will do.”

Virgil heard Patton move away from the door, and he sighed.

I should probably clean up the wounds. Don’t want them to get infected.

Virgil shakily stood and walked over to his bathroom. He winced. This is bad. This has to be one of the worst times. Thin cuts marred his skin where Deceit and Remus had used a knife to cut his shirt off. Thin lines of blood trailed down from each wound. Virgil sighed and went about disinfecting them.

You know they’ve been more active in the main Mindscape, you know they’d see you wearing a binder. Why did you have to be so fucking stupid? You could have just worn your huge hoodie like you used to and it would have been fine. They already beat the shit out of you once you changed your voice in the Subconscious, did you really want another beating that badly?

Virgil bit his lip as a sob forced its way past the lump in his throat and more tears streamed down his face. Soon, he’d expertly cleaned and bandaged his wounds and he started working on cleaning the tear tracks and makeup from his face. He cursed the Dark Sides for knowing to aim for parts of his body that would be covered up by clothes; if he’d been unable to hide the bruises, he wouldn’t have a choice but to tell the Light Sides.

The Light Sides won’t believe you. What, the Dark Sides they’re working on accepting just so happen to be evil transphobes who hurt you? And you’re the only Dark Side who’s not an asshole? Give me a break.

Virgil bit back tears. He was tired of crying over the Dark Sides hurting him. And if he told the Light Sides, they’d start asking questions that he wasn’t ready to answer. It was bad enough that they’d “outed” him as a previous Dark Side, causing their loving, wonderful Host to look at him with disgust.

Virgil shook his head. Thinking about that isn’t helping me calm down. He splashed a bit of water on his face and finished cleaning off his makeup. He curled back up in bed, hissing through his teeth at the new injuries, and resigned himself to a night of restless sleep.

/////

Virgil decided against wearing his new shirt and hoodie, instead opting for his old black ensemble. He felt like crying without a binder, but he also didn’t want to lose another one to Deceit’s knife and he was pretty sure a couple of his ribs were cracked.

Virgil made his way downstairs for breakfast, miserable. He’d put on extra black eyeshadow to hide the bags under his eyes and hopefully to draw attention away from the fact that his eyes were slightly red.

He was shuffling into the kitchen when he froze. Deceit is here, why is he here, why is he here, why is he-

“How are you feeling kiddo?” Patton asked.

Virgil shrugged keeping eye contact with him and resolutely avoiding the other Dark Side. “Fine. Better.”

“That’s good! I thought that we should get to know the Dark Sides better, so I invited them over for breakfast! Although Remus didn’t show up, something about being on a ‘deodorant cleanse’?”

“Yes, Virgil, it’s so important to get to know each other better, don’t you think?” Deceit purred.

“I know you well enough!” Virgil spat back.

“Now Virgil, give him a chance,” Patton said, disapproval coloring his voice.

Deceit looked hurt. “Yes Virgil, why aren’t you giving me a chance? I’m trying here, and you’re just being mean.”

Dammit, Deceit can act well if he tries.

Deceit looked at Virgil with a sick smirk.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at Deceit. “Fuck. You.” and sank back into his room, his stomach cramping from hunger. He curled up on his bed and hugged his pillow, angry tears coming out this time.

I just wanted food! And now Patton thinks I’m an asshole! And the others will too! Fuck!

A few hours later, he couldn’t ignore the nausea anymore and decided to venture downstairs. He walked up to his door and pressed his ear against it, listening for any indication there were Sides walking around. Hearing nothing, he slowly opened his door and looked both direction.

Finally. I need-

“Doom and Gloom!”

Fuck.

Virgil turned his head and looked at Roman. He seemed excited about something or other.

“I have this wonderful new project! For Halloween! You’ll love it Virge!”

Deceit and Remus appeared behind Roman, smirking.

“Virgil? Who’s she, never heard of her,” Deceit sneered.

Roman jumped, but relaxed quickly. Virgil ground his teeth.

“I thought it was Veronica? Or no wait, Vanessa?”

Virgil glared at them. “That’s never been my name,” he growled.

“Oh, my mistake!” Deceit laughed, daintily putting a hand to his chest. He smiled. “Violet.”

“Hahaha! She’s a girl!” Remus shrieked, pointing at Virgil. Roman just looked confused.

Virgil held himself back and closed his eyes. He inhaled, opened his eyes, turned around, and walked downstairs. He heard Patton humming in the kitchen and smiled.

He entered the kitchen and opened the pantry to grab some cereal.

“Hey Virge!”

Virgil smiled at him and sent him a two-finger salute. Patton let him get milk in his cereal and start eating before he spoke up.

“Honey, I think we need to talk about what happened with Deceit this morning.”

Virgil’s stomach nearly revolted. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s no big deal. “Yeah? What about it?”

Patton sighed. “The way you spoke to Deceit… Is there something else going on?”

Virgil whipped his head towards the fatherly trait. He’d been expecting admonishment and chastising, a demand to go apologize to Deceit. Instead, Patton’s eyes were full of concern. “I… what?”

Patton tilted his head. “I know you have a longer history with the Dark Sides than we do, and it sounded like there were things that weren’t being said out loud.” At Virgil’s baffled expression, he continued. “You can trust me, sweetie. Is there something going on?”

Virgil stared at his cereal bowl, fighting back tears. He moved the cereal bits around with his spoon.

I can’t lie to Patton, he’s just trying to help.

Virgil decided to tell the truth. “I can’t say. I’m sorry.”

Patton sagged slightly at that. “Is Deceit stopping you?”

Virgil chewed on his lip. “No, it’s my own fucking fault.”

“Do you feel unsafe around us?”

Virgil jumped at the question. “No! I just,” Virgil’s voice choked off. “I can’t say,” he whispered brokenly.

“Oh sweetie, do you want a hug?” Patton asked.

“S-sorry, not right now.” The thought of Patton wrapping his arms around his body, especially without his binder, was too much.

“Okay baby, let me know. Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I’m sorry.” And with that Virgil broke. He dropped his spoon in his bowl and put his head in his hands, letting out the sobs he’d been holding in.

“Oh! Virgil, it’s okay! It’ll be okay!”

Virgil just shook his head.

“Would it be okay if I rubbed your back?”

Virgil nodded. He won’t be touching my front, that’s okay.

Patton immediately put a hand on Virgil’s back and began lovingly rubbing it.

“I w-want to s-s-say, but I c-c-can’t!!”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. It’ll be okay,” Patton soothed, confused but beginning to understand that something was going on between the Dark Sides and Virgil and it wasn’t anything good. For now, he focused on calming Virgil down enough so he could eat. Eventually, Virgil’s cries petered out.

Patton kept rubbing small circles into his kiddo’s back. “There you go. Feeling better?”

Virgil nodded and wiped his face on his sleeve. He smiled at Patton shyly. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just freaking out for no reason.”

Patton frowned. “It doesn’t sound like no reason.”

Virgil waved him off. “It’s fine Pat. I’m probably just hungry.”

Patton knew it wasn’t just hunger, but he also knew not to push the issue any more. He grabbed a bowl of cereal for himself and chatted with Virgil, trying to make him feel comfortable again. He was happy that by the end of the meal, Virgil was much more relaxed and didn’t seem like he was about to burst into tears. Virgil cleaned his dishes and and sent Patton a two-finger salute as he sank out. Patton let his face fall once Virgil was out of the kitchen. What is going on with my sweet boy?

/////

The Sides all rose up when Thomas summoned them for the next video. Virgil had his normal hoodie on and zipped up and prayed no one could tell that he wasn’t wearing a binder.

“Hey Virge! You cold?” Thomas asked.

Virgil nodded, Deceit giggling at the lie.

Thomas turned to the camera and started filming.

“What is up everybody?! Today, I’m dealing with an important topic: when to come out.”

Remus giggled. “Like Virgil! She-” Deceit elbowed him, cutting him off.

Thomas frowned in confusion at Remus. “I mean, yeah, he told me he was a Dark Side, and that’s what I wanted to address this video.”

Deceit summoned a bowl of popcorn and crunched loudly, making sure Virgil saw the shit-eating grin on his face. Remus just snacked on deodorant.

Virgil paled and felt cold all over. His heart was pounding and there was a lump in his throat. Thomas turned to him.

“Virgil, I… I just wanted to say that I was surprised, and I still love you. I don’t care that you were a Dark Side before. You’re working with me now, and with the others, and who you are now matters way more than who you thought you had to be in the past.”

Virgil was shocked. He felt tears springing to his eyes. “You… you really mean that?” he whispered, incredulous.

Thomas smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

Virgil sagged in relief and smiled, a single tear running down his cheek.

“That’s totally how I expected that was going to go,” Deceit complained.

Remus just threw his deodorant on the ground in frustration.

Thomas ignored them. “Do you want a hug Virge?”

Before Virgil could panic and make up an excuse, Remus started shrieking with laughter. “She can’t! Then you’ll feel her tits!”

Virgil felt all of the blood leave his body.

Thomas just tilted his head in confusion at Remus. “What?” He looked at Virgil. “Virge? What’s going on?”

Virgil started backing into the wall and hyperventilating, new kinds of tears making their way down his face.

He knows, he knows, he just got over me keeping one big secret from him, this is a coming out video, he’s going to find out, he’s going to hate me, they’re all going to hate me, they’re going to send me back to the Dark Side, he hates me, they hate me…

“Come now Virgil,” Deceit purred. Virgil jumped when he and Remus appeared in front of him on the landing. “Let’s be fully honest with our Host, that’s what he would want, isn’t that right?”

Remus and Deceit grabbed Virgil and started pulling down the zipper. He cried out and thrashed in their hold until they were pulled away. He didn’t notice who helped him, he just collapsed on the landing and curled into a defensive ball in the corner, shaking like a leaf and hyperventilating.

“Virgil? Can you hear me?”

Virgil flinched and whined at the proximity of Logan’s voice.

“I can’t, I don’t want to, please don’t make me, don’t hurt me, please…” he whimpered.

Everyone’s hearts shattered.

Patton came up to the landing and leaned against the steps. “It’s okay sweetie, no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. No one’s going to force you to do anything. Can you try to breathe with me baby?”

Virgil let out another cry but nodded. Patton counted with him, occasionally glancing back at the Dark Sides. Roman had the Dark Sides cornered, sword pointed directly at them, making sure they wouldn’t hurt Virgil. After almost twenty rounds of breathing exercises, Virgil’s muscles began to relax from the cramped position they were in.

Thomas knelt in front of the stairs. “Virge?” he began cautiously. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Virgil’s breath hitched. “I’m sorry Thomas.”

“Buddy, no! You got attacked and got scared.”

Deceit laughed. “That’s not all Thomas! Go on, tell our Host what else you’ve been lying about!”

Thomas frowned at Deceit and looked back at Virgil. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. This… God, this has to be the worst time to be making a coming out video. Are you hurt at all?”

Remus laughed. “Awwwww, is the little girl hurt?”

“SILENCE!!” Roman roared.

Virgil flinched, staring at the Dark Sides with wide eyes.

“Virgil, hey look at me,” Thomas called softly. Virgil turned wide eyes to Thomas, the Host almost breaking at the tears he saw. “It’s okay buddy.”

Remus wasn’t done. “Take off her shirt!!”

Roman took a step towards them. “SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL RUN YOU THROUGH!!”

There must have been something in Roman’s expression, because the jeers stopped.

“Honey-” Patton began. He was cut off with a sharp inhale from Virgil as he laid a hand on the anxious Side’s back. He quickly withdrew his hand.

“I’m sorry baby! Are you hurt?”

Virgil sniffled. “N-not too bad.”

Thomas’ face twisted in anger, and the two Dark Sides sank out. Roman sheathed his sword after a moment and walked over to the stairs, worried about his anxious friend.

Logan spoke up. “Virgil, may I look at your wounds?”

“No!” he yelled, curling up defensively and hugging his hoodie closer to himself.

“I will respect your choices Virgil. However, I believe that it would be in your best interest to allow me to assess your injuries to ensure nothing else is going on and to help prevent infection.”

Virgil shook his head. “They’ve done worse, this is nothing, I’ll be fine.”

“They’ve done this before?!” Roman growled.

Virgil curled in on himself and nodded.

Patton shifted a little closer. “How have they hurt you in the past?”

Virgil’s breath hitched. “Th-they’ve beat the shit out of me when I changed my voice. I u-used to have a higher pitched voice and I didn’t like it. And when I changed how I dressed they beat me up for that too.”

“Oh Virge,” Patton breathed. “Do you know why they did it?”

“B-because…” Dammit, I’ve really got to say it, don’t I? “I-I’m a trans guy.” Once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “The D-Dark Sides h-hated me for it, s-said I w-w-was a girl, but I’m not! I swear I didn’t l-lie to you T-Thomas!! I just, w-with how you’d t-taken the news of me being o-one of them in the p-p-past, I was scared you’d m-m-make me go b-back to them and I c-c-can’t…” Virgil dissolved into tears, unable to form any more sentences.

Thomas jumped forward and hugged Virgil close to him. Virgil curled into his Host and cried.

“God, Virge, I’m so sorry. I’d never hate you for being trans! Whatever I did to make you think that, I’m so sorry. And if they’re hurting you, I’d never want you in that position.”

Thomas held Virgil until his cries petered out.

They deserve to know. “Th-they’d cut off m-my clothes.”

Thomas froze and tightened his arms.

“They what.” Patton said, voice flat with blinding fury.

“Th-they w-wouldn’t go farther th-than that!” Virgil added quickly. “They’d j-j-just cut off m-my clothes t-to try to p-prove I’m a girl. Th-that’s why I’m n-not w-wearing a b-b-binder today. Th-they cut up my l-last one with a knife a-and hurt m-my ribs.”

“Oh baby…”

Logan adjusted his necktie nervously. “I… Virgil, I am so sorry they hurt you. I believe I understand another reason you don’t want me to look at your injuries. May I ask you some questions instead?”

Virgil bit his lip and nodded, still curled against Thomas.

“Does it hurt to breathe?”

Virgil nodded, and Thomas loosened his grip slightly.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is your pain when you breathe?”

“Um, like a 5? It’s not too bad.”

“I am glad to hear that. Are you experiencing any difficulty breathing?”

“Not really, no?”

“Alright. Let me know if you do. Would you consent to stay with one of us for a few nights until we’re certain there aren’t any other ill-effects?”

“Y-you don’t mind?”

Roman frowned and tilted his head. “Why would we mind?”

“…I dunno.”

Logan sighed. “We want to help you Virgil. Please tell us what is bothering you.”

Virgil hid his face in Thomas’ chest, muffling his words. “They s-said I was gross.”

Roman actually snarled while Patton gasped and Logan and Thomas’ faces hardened.

Thomas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them and kissed the top of Virgil’s head as he held the trembling man.

“You’re not gross Virge.”

“Y-you’re just saying that.”

Logan hesitantly placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Virgil, I am not one to mince feelings.” Virgil huffed a laugh at that. “You are objectively not “gross.” Remus and Deceit are wrong.”

Virgil lifted his head and looked at Logan. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Virgil relaxed against Thomas. “Can I… Can I wear my old stuff until my ribs heal? That hoodie’s bigger, it helps with… yeah.”

“Of course you can kiddo!” Patton rushed out. “If it makes you feel better, go for it!”

Virgil frowned and looked at the Light Sides and Thomas suspiciously. “You’re all taking this… really well,” he said slowly. “I’m the only one like this. Not even one of the other Dark Sides is like this. Aren’t you freaked out?”

“Kiddo, no!”

“One’s gender would never make me forsake them!”

“You identify as a man, therefore you are a man.”

Thomas hadn’t spoken yet, and Virgil felt tears in his eyes.

“Virgil, buddy,” Thomas began. “I… I fucked up, didn’t I?” Thomas’ voice grew thick with tears. “I somehow made you think I think less of trans people.” Thomas buried his face in Virgil’s hair to hide his tears. “I-I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way. I promise I’d never think any less of you. You’re still my facet, my Virgil, and this is just one cool thing about you.”

Virgil pressed into Thomas. “I don’t know why I had to manifest this way. There’s no reason for it!”

Thomas rubbed Virgil’s arm. “We may never know why, and that’s okay. We don’t need to in order to accept you and love you.”

Virgil closed his eyes, exhausted. “Thank you, Thomas. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Thomas squeezed Virgil as tightly as he dared. “You were scared.” Thomas smiled before he sang. “It’s okay. We’re your best pals!”

Virgil snorted. “Dork.”

“Damn gay.”

“Don’t you mean- oh, I get it.”

Patton and Thomas giggled.

Roman stepped closer. “Virgil, would you like to stay in my room tonight? The bed’s big enough to fit all of us.”

Virgil looked up at Roman and smiled. “Sure Princey.”

Later that evening, when Virgil is surrounded by the Light Sides, he smiles to himself.

The Light Sides might be clueless morons, but I guess I could get used to this.

Fallen too Far [M]

Foreword: I knew I wasn’t allowed to feel this way towards Baekhyun. He was my sugar daddy, while me? I was just his baby girl. But, when you spent nearly every day with someone like him, falling in love was inevitable. And now that my feelings were off and running, there’s no choice but to go along for the ride.

Genre: daddy kink, fluff, romance, one-shot.

[M]: whipping (ish), dirty-talk, rough sex, orgasm denial.

(gif credit : @/kamikoy)

I was in the middle of cleaning the dishes when their laughters entered the kitchen for the umpteenth time that night. My bottom lip juts forward in a pout, and I carried on scrubbing the dirty pan, more vigorously now.

Two days ago, Baekhyun’s best friend paid a sudden visit to surprise him for his birthday. Out of panic, he’d introduced me as his housemaid since he wanted to keep our ddlg relationship a secret. That was how I ended up here, in the kitchen, doing chores like a maid would.

I was hurt, of course. He could’ve introduced me as his girlfriend, or a friend at least, but a maid? Do I mean so little to him?

Sometimes, I wondered if I was still just the sugar baby to him. While he still had a headache from half the thing I did to get his attention, I knew for a fact that I made him happy, just as he made me happy too. And to me, he wasn’t just the Daddy anymore. He meant so much more than that. We’d been in this relationship for nearly six months, and when you spend that much time being pampered and coddled by someone like Baekhyun, falling in love is inevitable. No matter how hard you try to stop your feeling from growing, you just can’t, just like how you can’t stop your heart from beating.

I knew I wasn’t allowed to feel this way towards him, that was part of the agreement. If Baekhyun ever found out, my contract might be terminated and he would have to look for a new sugar baby to replace me.

Just the thought of losing him made me sick in the gut.

I suddenly felt angry at myself for letting my feeling build when there was clearly no foundation to stand on. More than that, Baekhyun had made it clear from the start that he wanted no emotional attachment between us. There was no way he’d let our relationship evolved into something more than what we had right now.

My mind was getting carried away by thoughts that I didn’t realize the plate had slipped off my grasp. Until the sound of breaking glass hit my ears, and I flinched backward in shock.

“Oh crap.” I muttered softly, my gaze dropping to the shattered glass on the floor.

“What the hell happened?” Baekhyun’s voice burst into the kitchen a second before he did. His brows furrowed when he found the wreckage I’d caused, then his gaze flew to me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, and without much thought, dropped to my knees and started gathering the mess.

“Don’t touch that—“

Too late.

Just as the words fell from of his mouth, I felt a scrape on my finger that made me wince, and my hand drawing away in reflex.

“Shit. Are you bleeding?” Baekhyun asked as he hurried towards me. “Give me your hand.” He dropped to his knees and took my hand in his for inspection. There was a splinter of glass in my forefinger and I saw blood slowly trickling around the shard. He sighed, looking at me now. “See what happens when you don’t listen?”

This was the first time he talked to me since his best friend’s arrived. Part of me was glad to finally get his attention. I’d been so deprived of it these few days. But it irked me that he was looking so unhappy.

“Why are you getting upset when I’m the one who is injured here?” I protested.

If Baekhyun was surprised by my outburst, he didn’t show it, instead his eyes softened at me in such a way that melt me through and through. “Does it hurt a lot, baby?”

He called me baby in that voice of his, it was taking every ounce of restraint to stop myself from hugging him right there. If only we were alone...

“Baekhyun oppa, is everything okay?”

And there she is...

We brought our gaze towards the owner of the voice, Jisoo. She stopped at the doorway, glancing between me and Baekhyun before landing his gaze on our hands.

“Oh dear,” she grimaced at the sight of blood on my finger. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” I gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Baekhyun opposed with such a firm tone that it startled me, and I caught the confusion in Jisoo’s expression as she watched us.

I gave Baekhyun a look, my brows drawing together as if asking What the hell are you doing?

Much to my relief, someone’s phone started ringing. “That’s mine,” Jisoo announced before dissappearing into the living hall, leaving me and Baekhyun behind.

“Are you trying to blow our cover?” I asked in a loud whisper, glancing furtively over his shoulder to make sure no one heard us.

“You need to get your hand treated.” He said, gently pulling me up to my feet. “Get in your room and wait for me there.”

“No need. I can handle myself.” I peeled my hand away from his grasp, only to earn a warning glare from him that made me swallow in retreat. “W-what about the dishes?” I gestured towards the sink.

“I said get in your room, do you hear me?” Baekhyun said, his voice exerting dominance; his expression so deadly serious that I had no choice but to submit.

“Yes, Daddy.”

While waiting for Baekhyun, I sat in bed and checked the payment statement I’d just receive today. Uni was reopening in three weeks time, which mean my tuition fee was due soon.

I reached for my phone and clicked on the ibanking app to view my account. Once the page loaded, I blinked and blinked and blinked, surprised by the increasing digits in my savings. I didn’t have to check my transaction history to find out who the sender was. Baekhyun must’ve read the letter before I did, seeing that the envelope was unsealed when I found it on the coffee table this morning.

I felt a mixed of gratefulness and unease in my chest. Ever since Baekhyun made me his baby girl, I didn’t have to worry about not having enough to pay for my bills, rent, or anything. He made sure I had everything I needed, even things I didn’t need—frivolous things. My monthly allowance was thrice as much as my earnings back when I used to take up three part time jobs. I’d resigned as per Baekhyun’s request since he wanted me available every time he needed me, especially during the weekend. He wouldn’t meddle with my uni schedule though. In fact, he was very supportive of my study, which was why this arrangement was beneficial for me. Because not only did I get focus on my study, I get to also spend more time with Baekhyun.

However, this arrangement was a temporary thing.

Sooner or later, as much as I hate to admit it, Baekhyun would get bored of me and leave, like he did to his ex baby girls. And when the day came, I would have to take up those jobs again to fund myself. Or maybe, looked for a new Daddy to sponsor me. Though I doubt I would get over Baekhyun so easily. I’d be so heartbroken for months, years or forever maybe.

I threw my phone along with the envelope across the bed and curled on my side holding one of my plush toys. Funny how heartache can make you feel so...lifeless.

A short moment later, I sat up at the sound of the door opening. Entering the room was Baekhyun, holding a first-aid kid in his hand. He was still wearing his work attire, minus the jacket, just a white dress shirt with the top buttons undone. We stared at each other, and the softness in his gaze told me he wasn’t as upset anymore. My lips stretched up into a smile, and as soon as the door was closed and locked, I rose from the bed and scurried towards him like a puppy would when their owner returned home.

“Daddy!” I called out sweetly, my arms stretching out to pull him into a big big hug. I heard his low chuckle sounding above my head as I nuzzled my face into his chest. Two days of being mentally apart had made me so deprived of his touch; his affection; him. “I really really miss you.”

His lips brushed over my hair and he pressed a long kiss on the crown of my head. “Come on baby girl,” he whispered, “let daddy take care of your wound.”

I glanced up at him. “What if Jisoo finds out you are here?”

“She just went out.” He said, and I can’t stop my smile from widening. He chuckled at my excitement before saying, “Get on the bed.”

Feeling mischievous, I buried my face in his chest and shook my head. “Don’t want.”

“What do you mean don’t want?” He said, to which I simply giggled. “Are you trying to be naughty again?” this time he was pushing forward so I was walking backwards with my arms clinging onto his waist. Our giggles filled the room and we drew to a halt when the back of my knees touched the bed.

“Sit down.” he ordered softly.

I peered up from his chest, smiling sweetly at him and asked, “Can I sit on Daddy’s lap?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Where’s your please?”

“Please?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

Baekhyun eventually gave a mild nod in approval. I beamed as he lowered himself on the bed, setting the kit aside before tapping on his thigh to motion me to sit. But as soon as I sat my bum on his lap, he faked a low groan in the back of his throat. “Ugh, so heavy.”

“Daddyy!” I whined, pushing at his chest playfully. “You’re so mean.”

He simply grinned as he extended a hand towards me. “Let me see your hand.”

I gave him my injured one and he held it up to his eye level to examine. Though the cut was deep, the blood around the gash has dried up, so it wasn’t as painful anymore.

“I just need a plaster.” I told him.

He shook his head as he stared at my finger. “Daddy needs to clean your wound before it gets infected.”

My face turned pale at that. “Are you going to use that...uh...that liquid thingy that stings a lot?”

Baekhyun chuckled at my description, staring at me now. “Peroxide you mean?”

I made a pout with my lips. “It’s going to hurt so bad.”

“I know, baby.” He sighed, eyes filled with concern at my apparent distress. “Just bear it for a while, okay?” I gave a meek nod, and he smiled softly at me. “Good girl.”

I tried not to cower while watching Baekhyun dug into the first-aid kit as he gathered things he needed to dress my wound. He looked at me again once he was done soaking the cotton ball. I was already grimacing before it even started. His free hand came to rest on the back of my head and he caressed me there, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

With reluctance, I offered him my hand and looked away when I saw that he was about to start. Shortly after, I felt the cotton gently swapping over my finger. It didn’t hurt at first, but as soon as the liquid penetrated into my skin, I felt the painful sting that made me squeeze my eyes close and winced. Tears began to well in my eyes, and with another swap, they rolled down my cheek like a waterfall. I buried my face in his chest as I weep quietly.

“I’m almost done.” Baekhyun murmured, brushing of his thumb over my palm to soothe me. The pain was beginning to ease, and my crying was slowly drawing to a halt. I kept my face planted in his hard chest to hush my shuddering gasps. After he was done wrapping a plaster around my finger, his arms went around me and I felt his soft lips on my temple as he pressed a kiss there. “It’s okay now.” He whispered.

I lifted my head to reveal my tear-streaked face. He chuckled, shaking his head at me as he cupped my cheek with both hands, “You’re like a baby, you know?” he teased, wiping away the remnant of tears that lingered under my eyes.

“But I am your baby.” I argued lightly.

“You’re right.” he huffed with a soft smile on his face. “My naughty little baby.”

I wrinkled my nose at him without disagreeing because he wasn’t wrong. I can be very naughty sometimes.

Baekhyun continued brushing my wet cheeks with his thumbs, his warm eyes studying every inch of my feature. But later, as if something struck him, he narrowed his eyes at me. “You can’t be doing this deliberately to get my attention, right?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Did you hurt yourself on purpose?”

My frown deepened. “Why would you say that?”

He lifted his brows to his forehead, “You’ve pulled this stunt before, remember?”

Ah...right...

I’d once faked a sickness just so he would take the day off to take care of me. He had an important meeting that he cancelled because of me. I remembered how furious he was when he found out I was lying. My buttcheek paid a high price for that mistake and the lesson was received loud and clear.

Baekhyun tapped on my cheek to pull me out of my daze. I blinked at him, and presently, his expression had grown more serious. “Did you or did you not hurt yourself on purpose?” He asked again.

I sulked, looking away unhappily. Although he has every right to be suspicious since it happened before, my feeling was still hurt because he didn’t trust me.

At my prolonged silence, he grunted. “Are you going to answer or do I have to put you over my knees to find out?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, it was an accident.” I mumbled reluctantly, still not looking at him.

“I can’t hear you, little one.”

In the heat of the moment, I threw him a glare. “I told you it was a fucking accident! Are you deaf or something?” I yelled, not realizing what I’d done until I saw the fierce, warning look on Baekhyun’s face. Oh God. I pressed my lips together and dropped my gaze submissively. The silence that stretched made my heart thrummed with fear. I felt his gaze on me even though I wasn’t looking at him. He must be thinking of a severe punishment for me, knowing how much he hated it when I cursed.

And I was right...

“Get up.” He ordered, and I scrambled off his lap in no time. Once I was standing up, he stared up at me. “Clothes off and stand against the wall. You have five seconds.”

Baekhyun began the countdown as I hurried to do as told. The second he hit one, I was already standing with my back against the wall, bare-skinned from head to toe. He pierced his dark gaze onto me as he bent forward to rest his elbows on each side of his knees. I gulped, and my fingers started to fiddle with themselves. The man might look calm on the outside, but the dark aura he exuded told me he was anything but. He was so fucking pissed, I can tell.

“Tell me what you did wrong?” He started gruffly, his eyes never left mine.

“I raised my voice at Daddy.” I admitted.

He raised his brows. “That’s all?”

“–and curse too.” I added.

He hummed. “Tell me how should Daddy punish you then?”

“You…” I hesitated, “you should spank me.”

Baekhyun chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t think spanking works anymore.” He lift himself off the bed and stalked toward me. “You’ve been spanked so many times yet you never seem to learn your lesson.”

I gasped when he started unbuckling his belt in front of me. God, is he going to whip me with that? Although Baekhyun had always been strict with his punishments, he had never used a tool to hit me before. My punishment had always been a spanking, or sometimes he’d make me come so many times I had to beg him to stop because I couldn’t take it anymore—something he called overstimulation. I don’t know if I can handle being whipped.

“D-daddy…” I whimpered when he looped the leather around his hand. He looked at me again, and my heart rate accelerated in that second. “Are...are you going to hit me with that?” I asked timidly.

He hummed, and I let out a shaky breath when he swayed his hand back in preparation. “Next time you think about misbehaving again,remember this—” He grunted, whipping the leather strap across my thigh with force, causing me to cry out in pain.

His own breathing was heavy, and he had his lower lip caught in between his teeth as he daggered his dark gaze into mine. Is it wrong to think to think that he looked so hot when he is angry? Is it wrong for me to be turned on right now? I felt a little giddy inside, and I can’t help the growing slickness in between my legs.

“Does it hurt?” he asked me, and I gave a timid nod. “Good,” He said, swaying his hand back again. “That’ll teach you not to be so fucking rude to your Daddy.” He drew in a sharp breath before swinging his hand forward again. I shut my eyes close and whimpered at another hard slap that landed on the side of my thigh.

There’s a beat of silence afterwards, and I kept my eyes closed. But they flew open in a snap when I felt a rough grip on my chin. One blink at his handsome feature, our body collided and his mouth came slamming down on mine. His tongue swept into my mouth, and he made a low grunt in the back of his throat as he bit down on my lip. Hard. The pain made me whimper, and his grip around my chin grew tight. His mouth tugged at my upper lips, and he sucked on the flesh before thrusting his tongue through my opening to attack mine. There was nothing gentle about the kiss and as strange as it sounded, I was so immensely turned on by this. I grabbed onto his biceps, holding on for dear life as his mouth continued to assault mine.

Much to my discontent, Baekhyun broke the kiss and drew back to meet my eyes. We were both breathing heavily, and I watched him as he began unwinding the belt that was wrapped around his hand. Is he done with me? I thought to myself.

As if answering my silent question, Baekhyun seized my hand and began fastening the strap my wrists. “Lift your arms.” He ordered once he was done tying me up. I was puzzled, but I did it anyway. He then pushed his knee in between my thigh and nudge them apart, all the while staring at me. “I’m not done punishing you.”

I shivered at the way his gaze smoldered for me, like he was angry and turned on both at the same time. I expected my punishment to be a spanking, instead, he slipped a hand in between my legs and without warning, pushed two fingers into my wet cunt. “Daddy...” I moaned, my walls clenching tightly around his thick digits.

“Fucking slut,” He bit out harshly. “Did you enjoy being punished that much, huh?” He withdrew his fingers slowly and lift it up to show me his juice coated digits. “See how bloody wet you are?” I visibly blushed, and that made him sneer. “Open your mouth.” He commanded. And when I complied, he brought his fingers closer to my opening. “Suck it clean.” 

Like an obedient pet that I was, I did as he told me to. Tilting my head just slightly, I took his fingers into my mouth and flicked my tongue around them to lick away my own wetness. I felt a little scandalized at the fact that I was tasting myself, but I can’t deny how insanely hot this actually was.

Baekhyun gnawed on his bottom lip as he watched me, his pupils dilating at the sight of me sucking on his fingers so eagerly like they were his cock. His own breathing was growing heavier by the second, and as if his control snapped, he withdrew his fingers abruptly and dived in to kiss me again. Just like before, his kiss was rough and punishing. However it didn’t last long this time. I whined in protest when our lips detached, which resulted in a hard slap across my breast that caused me to yelp.

“Quiet.” Baekhyun growled, and I had to clamp my lips together to stifle my whimper. “I told you I’m not done punishing you.” He said. His other hand went to unzip his pant, pulling it down so his erection bobbed freely.

I gulped, my inner walls clenching and unclenching on its own accord at the sight of his thick cock.

“Eyes on me.” He ordered, and I lifted my gaze to meet his fierce one. He stepped closer and moved a hand up to rest on the nape on my neck, his thumb applying a light pressure to my windpipe. I choked slightly, and held my breath when he positioned his cock to my pussy, “You are not allowed to come unless I said so.” He said, rubbing my wet slit with the tip. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He barked.

I drew in a shuddering breath before muttering, “Y-yes, Daddy.”

With that, Baekhyun grunted and slammed his cock into me with such strength, my head flew back against the wall with a loud cry. He hissed through his clenched jaw at the way my walls squeezed tightly around his thick length. “Always so tight for Daddy.” He leaned in to press his lips against mine while his cock withdrew slowly. He gnawed on my lower lip, tugging at it before letting go and burying his cock deep in my pussy again. I let out a long moan, tears teasing my eyes at the sweet pain he was granting me.

“Tell me who’s this pussy made for?” He whispered huskily over my lips. 

“Daddy,” I whispered back in a shaky breath. “Just for Daddy.”

“That’s right.” He pulled out of me again. “It’s made just for Daddy to fuck.” He growled and thrust all the way in, filling my cunt with his thick shaft. I screamed in pleasure and my mind went blank for a beat. “Do you like having Daddy’s cock in your pussy like this?”

When I gave a jerky nod, his lips twitched into a dark smirk and he put more pressure to his grip around my neck. I gasped softly, and he began ramming his cock in and out of me, grunting hard with each thrust. My breasts bounced freely, and he dipped in to take my nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue around my bud. It wasn’t long until my inner muscle started to throb around his dick at the heightened pleasure.

“D-daddy...” I moaned. “Can I–can I cum? Please?”

“Don’t you dare cum.” He warned, clenching his jaw tightly as he continued pounding into me mercilessly. The slick noises of his cock leaving and entering my wet cunt blended with the sound of our lewd moans. If someone was home, they’d be able to hear us loud and clear.

When my arms started to turn sore, I dropped them so they were circled around Baekhyun’s neck with my wrists still tied together. He bent down to carry my wobbly legs, wrapping them around his hips before pistoning into my wet cunt again. I cried out loud. This new position caused the tip of his cock to hit me precisely on my sweet spot. I was on the verge of my orgasm, I can feel it. And it felt like the knot in my stomach could snap anytime soon.

“Daddy, I-I can’t take it anymore, please let me cum...please.” I begged desperately, not able to withstand it any longer.

“No.” He rebuffed in a low growl, his length sliding out of me abruptly, causing the building pressure to fade away. I whined. “Only Daddy gets to cum today. That’s your punishment for being naughty.”

And Baekhyun meant what he said about not letting me cum. Over the next hour, he continued pounding his dick into me senselessly. I’d lost count of the number of times he orgasm inside me, and the number of times he denied my orgasm. My womb was so loaded with his cum, they were dripping out of my pussy and down my thighs. I felt full, yet unsated. It was frustrating. A damn torture.

We migrated to the bathroom once Baekhyun was done fucking my brain out without letting me cum at all. I sat on the toilet seat cover, facing him who was kneeling on one knee in front of me. He held a washcloth in his hand, and he glanced up at me while wiping away the remains of cum on my chest. I raised my brows at him because he was giving me a very long stare. Seemed like he was contemplating something in his mind, so I waited.

“I’ve been thinking,” He finally started, “Maybe you should go somewhere for a while.”

What? Go somewhere? I blinked at him, puzzled. And my mind went to the worst scenario. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked in a frown.  

His brows furrowed. “Don’t be silly, little one.”

“Then?”

“I just thought you should go on a trip...enjoy yourself before uni starts again.”

“Where would I go?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere you want. Daddy will pay for it.”

“Will Daddy come with me too?” I gazed at him expectantly.

He shook his head. “I can’t. I have work to do.”

My shoulders deflated in disappointment. Why did I even bother to ask? The answer was always the same. I can’t. I’m busy. We can’t be seen together. He wouldn’t even go on a dinner or movie date with me. Our dates were always here, in his penthouse. It had been six months yet I still had no clue what Baekhyun did for a living. He could be a serial killer or a drug lord, who knows? He was very secretive when it comes to his personal life, and it sucks that he knew literally everything about me yet I knew almost nothing about him.

But who am I to complain? I am just his sugar baby, his toy to play with, nothing more. And it’s killing me that I love him, but I can’t have him. 

Doctor, Doctor - Thomas

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 10,229

Summary: Thomas cares about your health. And with that, he cares enough to give you a healthy dose of Vitamin D when you ask for Doctor Thomas’ prognosis. 

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Really poorly done Role Playing, Oral (both receiving), Sexy Finger Sucking, Doggy, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Choking, Dirty Talk, Side Sex, Over stimulation, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Teasing

Notes: A belated birthday fic for my favorite Cubs fan in the world, Julia aka @savage-stilinski. I hope you enjoy your man in all his fine glory. Note, this ALMOST could read as a sequel to Infected but it is a separate, standalone story.  

The gentle sound of the waves splashing against the sand outside lulled you from your sleep, blinking tired eyes open slowly. The chilled air made you shiver and curl more into the blankets, huddling into the warm body that slept peacefully beside you. The scent of bacon blended with the salty air, a hint of greenery hovering through the air. A roaring gurgle met your ears, earning a sigh from your lips. The last thing you wanted was to leave the comfort of the bed, but food was calling.

“Tommy, breakfast,” you murmured, nudging the deadweight body beside you. The man shifted, his arm resting on his stomach and his head lolled to the side on his pillow. His pale pink lips parted with his steady breaths and a small bit of drool dribbling down his chin, caramel orbs hidden behind his eyelids. Chocolate locks were spiked in random directions, splayed wildly on his head. It screamed of sleep, having been tousled restlessly from the pillow he slept on. The blanket had been stolen through the night by you, a small fraction left to cover his lower half, leaving his bare torso to rise and fall without shelter. Even in the coldest nights, Thomas was a furnace, providing you warmth and comfort. “Thomas, breakfast.”

You heard his faint mumble, unable to discern his words. With a huff, you rolled out of the bed, taking the blanket with you. Thomas didn’t seem to care, only rolling onto his stomach, hugging your pillow to his chest. Without waiting for the man to wake up, you grabbed your clothes for the day, changing in the bathroom to head out. Your baggy pajamas were discarded in a pile and swapped for a comfortable tank top and jeans, your boots on your feet. Thomas was left with a single kiss to the forehead that made him smile in his sleep, hugging the pillow more.

The walk through the Safe Haven was refreshing, people up and working already, though the sun had barely arisen over the mountains in the east. Waves were shared by the occupants of paradise, smiles growing on their faces. It made you smile in return, kicking off your boots to walk through the oceanic waves that frothed against the sand on your way to the kitchens. The water was cold and the breeze was calming, making your hair float around your form in billows. The low chatter around you made your heart thud with joy, the blue sky above your head a change from the destroyed world you were used to for so long. Even if you had been safe from the cruelties of the world for weeks now, every day still felt new.

Frypan greeted you with a plate of eggs, toast and bacon when you walked into the kitchen. The eggs were sunny side up and the bacon made a smile. The plate was happiness incarnate held in the palms of your hands. A giggle left your lips, thanking the former glade’s cook, finding the friends you spent years with at your normal table. Minho was trying to steal Brenda’s bacon, the short haired girl swatting his hand away and jabbing a fist in his side. Newt shifted uncomfortable across from them, scratching at his bandaged torso as he ate his toast.

“Stop scratching it. It’s healing,” you scolded, planting yourself beside the Brit. Your long time friend glowered at you from the corner of his eye, sipping his juice. “Don’t give me that look. You should be glad that stab didn’t kill you!”

“I should be dead though,” he whispered dejectedly.

“No. No negativity, Newt,” you huffed, waving your bacon at him. “You are safe. You aren’t infected. Thomas was able to give you the cure because Teresa made enough. You aren’t dead. You are here with us. And we are glad you are.”

“I know. I’m glad I’m here too,” he said, giving you a side hug. “And you are too.”

“Love you, Newtie.”

“Love you, Y/N.”

“You guys are a load of depression,” Minho cut in, specks of bacon flying from his mouth. You grimaced in disgust, shaking your head. “We are in the Safe Haven. You have no Flare virus. We are all together.”

“I just said that, Minho,” you huffed.

“I just said it better.”

“You guys are children,” Brenda sighed.

“Enough of that,” Newt chuckled. “Where is your other half, Y/N?”

“Tommy?” you clarified, the three nodding. “Sleeping, of course. I tried to wake him up for breakfast, but he wouldn’t wake up. So, I left him. I’m not missing out on food because my lump of a boyfriend wouldn’t get out of bed.”

“So, how long before he flies through that door and drags you away?” Newt chuckled, making your brow rise.

“What? He wouldn’t-”

“Yeah, he will,” Minho confirmed.

“No!”

“Yeah,” Brenda reiterated.

“Oh, my god, guys. Thomas is not going to run through that door screaming-”

“Y/N!”

“Fuck me.”

Thomas stormed through the kitchen, all eyes on the flustered man. He was panting and sweating, his hair still untame from rest. His eyes were wide and slightly red to match his face. Panic was laced on every feature on his face, the distressed look he gave as he approached making you frown. His clothes were wrinkled, his sweats hanging low on his hips, unchanged after he awoke, and a blue henley on his body. He had obviously through the clothes on before rushing out of the tiny hut you called home. Even his boots were still untied.

“You’re ok,” he breathed, running a veiny hand through his hair. You moved so he could collapse beside you, his head in your shoulder. “I was so worried when I woke up and you weren’t there. I didn’t know where you went or if you were safe.”

“I’m fine, Tommy.”

“But something could have happened!” he scolded. “You should have woken me up before you left.”

“I tried-”

“We need to head home and make sure you are ok, baby.”

You huffed. Thomas was the sweetest man you could ever wish to date. Since meeting him in the Glade, he had cared for you like nothing else. He protected you, he supported you, and he loved you. You loved him back. His strength of heart and willful spirit lured you in, keeping you trapped. You wanted nothing else than to be by his side through everything, especially now that you were free from WICKED’s clawed grasp.

However, ever since he woke up after getting shot by Janson, he had been on your case twenty-four-seven. You had gotten infected through the airborne virus since you were unknowingly not immune. Thomas was devastated, but he was determined to find you a cure. In his hand when you helped pull him into the berg were two vials of serum that he mumbled were the cure before passing out from blood loss. It saved you and Newt, who was barely clinging to life between a stab to the chest and his infection.

Now that he was awake from his gunshot wound that was almost completely healed, he wanted to make sure the cure was, indeed, a cure. Every day, he took it upon himself to check your vitals, testing to see if the virus had somehow returned and he was at risk of losing you yet again. At least three times a day, you would hear the words ‘How are you feeling?’ fall from his mouth before a hand pressed to your forehead.

Honestly, his caring nature and the need to make sure you were safe was a mixture of emotions. It was caring and made you fuzzy inside, knowing that he was worried and wanted you to be safe. But, it was irksome.

“Why don’t you ever dote on Newt?” you asked the man, taking a bite of your eggs. “He was infected too, you know!”

“He isn’t my girlfriend and the love of my life,” Thomas told you. You giggled when Newt feigned heartbreak. “Besides, he has Minho to dote on him!”

“But Minho doesn’t give a rat’s ass because Newt is perfectly healthy! There are no signs of the Flare!”

“This is accurate,” Minho teased.

“That is besides the point,” Thomas argued, taking your hand. “We have to get you checked on.”

“But, my bacon-” you cried, getting dragged off. You whimpered sadly whe of your bacon, giving you a wink from afar. “I love you, Thomas. But you’re going to drive me insane.”

“Less talking, more making sure you are ok.”

“You owe me bacon, asshole.”

It wasn’t until nightfall that you could sneak away. Thomas had kept you close since your abrupt disappearance from your calling for food until Vince requested his help on some building plans. Thomas was always helping Vince plan, and you were proud of him for assuming such a leadership role, but he expected you to stay in bed.

Ha. Nope.

You wandered down to the beach, seeing the flames of a fire flickering in the distance. It was normal that her friends would make a small bonfire on the beach to relax after a long day, and that’s exactly where they were now. The former gladers were sat around the fire, joined in part by Brenda and a few friends from Maze B, drinking Gally’s special drink he whipped up. Newt was the first to see you approaching, grabbing you a jar with the pale yellow liquid.

“Finally escape Doctor Thomas?” he joked. You glared at him while collapsing in the sand, sipping the bitterly strong drink.

“Not funny.”

“It kind of is,” Minho laughed. He received a swift boot to the head, the runner groaning.

“It’s not! I spent all day by his side because he didn’t want me running off again,” you sneered. “He literally expected me to stay in bed all day and not do anything.”

“Aw, Doctor Thomas taking care of you,” Minho poked.

“He’s always checking on his patient,” Aris laughed.

“Does he ask what level of pain you are? Then you can make a face to express it. Like this,” Frypan joke, making a pained, strained face.

“He always checking your temperature, tucking you into bed before feeding you some soup,” Brenda laughed.

“Guys, it’s not funny,” you seethed. “Trust me. I love Thomas so fucking much. He means the world to me. He makes me so happy and I’m glad I can be here with him today. I shouldn’t be here because of the Flare and he made it possible to live. He’s the best man I have ever met, no offense guys.” You glanced at the guy gladers who shrugged. “I feel special with him and I look up to him.

“But, he’s driving me insane. Every day is the same. I love that he cares and I love knowing that he wants me to be safe. But, he’s so worried that I’m going to be sick again that he’s going overboard. I’m suffocating under him because he just… ugh!” You fell back on the sand, arms spread wide. “I hate him. I hate him. I hate him! Why does my boyfriend have to care so much?!”

“Because he loves you?”

“That was rhetorical, Minho!” you growled, throwing sand his way. “I know he does! But, I just need him to calm down! I’m not on the verge of death and he’s treating me like some fragile baby bird that isn’t ready to leave the nest. I am losing my mind because he’s always there to make sure I’m not sick. I love his compassion but I hate his compassion!”

“That’s… redundant.”

You blinked, standing from your spot. “Come here, Minho. I’m going to strangle you and you will wish I will have had the Flare because then people won’t question why your body is scattered across the beach!”

Brenda held you by the waist, dragging your flailing form away. “Come on. We are going on a walk.”

“I don’t want a walk! I want to kill Minho!”

“Naw. I think she wants Doctor Thomas to give her a prescription,” Minho teased with a wink. “Of his dick!”

Your face was bright red. “You’re dead, Minho. You hear me? DEAD.”

“Walk!” Brenda forced, pushing you down the sandy walkway. Grumbles filled the dark air, your feet trudging away from the group. The drink in your hand was tipped back, sliding down your throat with a burning elegance. Brenda watched you silently, sipping her own drink. “You know, I don’t see what the big deal is. Having Thomas checking up on you like that, playing personal doctor. I’d think you would enjoy that more.”

“It’s frustrating!”

“No,” Brenda laughed. “It’s kind of hot, Y/N. I can only imagine what things he could do to you while playing doctor. And you tell me once that the sex is amazing. Just thinking about what an attractive guy like that could do when he drags you away to make sure you are ok gets me hot.”

“That’s my boyfriend you are talking about, Bren,” you deadpanned.

“I know. But, you can’t tell me you aren’t the least bit aroused by Thomas constantly taking care of you,” she pressed.

“I mean, I guess…”

“Y/N, let me spell this out to you. You have a hot ass man that loves you with all his heart. He is there for you to give you whatever you need. Just think about when he goes to give you your next check up how he strips you down and pleases you all night long.”

“Jesus, Bren!” you screeched, shaking your head in a flustered state. “Stop thinking about this please!”

“What? You guys are hot and I ship it. I’d live to know that he can fuck you like you deserve,” she laughed. Your face turned beet red at her words. “I’m just trying to say this. Why are you complaining about it? I get that it’s annoying because he does it all the time. But, embrace it!”

“Embrace it?” you asked into your drink.

She nodded with a evil grin. “Let Doctor Thomas do his job and give you the treatment you deserve.”

You stared at the girl, mouth parting in surprise. No words came out, your lips sealing together and curling upright. Brenda noticed the smile that grew, bouncing like a kid in a candy store. She nudged your side, wiggling her eyebrows as you walked, divulging the plan you were concocting.

~

The door slammed shut behind Thomas the following evening. He was exhausted, his body sluggish after his long day. His boots were kicked off, a hand running through his hair to feel the sweat that seeped from the top of his head. The sun pounded on him while he built a new hut on the edge of town. The sleeves of his henley were pushed up. The buttons were completely undone, showing off the dark chest hairs that were splayed across his pecs.

“Tommy?” you called from your room, Thomas’ ears perking up. His heart lifted, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. He had miraculously managed to convince you to stay in while he was working, but a small part of him worried since he couldn’t check on you all day. To know you were home, safe and sound, put his nerves at ease. The only thing that could drop it is if you developed the Flare again and were going to Crank out on him the second he walked into the room.

He didn’t need to move forward. He saw the shadow of your form on the wall, hearing your footsteps patter against the ground, stepping out of the room. You stayed near the doorway, leaning on it almost seductively. You appearance made the runner’s heart freeze, his pants growing tighter and his body heat no longer from the setting sun that had scorched his skin.

“Holy…”

You played with the lacy designed robe that did nothing to conceal your body, the mesh design see through. It ended at your mid thigh, the material skimming them as it swayed. Under the black robe was the blue lingerie set he loved the most. The bra pushed your breasts up until they were ready to spill out of the top, almost see through so he could see your breasts clearly. The flowers beautifully decorated your chest, hugging to your skin. The bottoms matched with the flower design, hugging your core and backside in just the right way. A tiny bow was plastered in the middle, acting as a landmark for the center he wanted to be part of.

You bit your lips that were more red than normal - a lip gloss that was salvaged from the ruins of the fallen world outside the Safe Haven making them shimmer. Your eyes were shadowed from some eye make up, the glance from the side of your eye making your eyes clouded with mystery and beauty. Your stance made you look sexy, willingly waiting for him to advance on you. You noticed the man fidget where he stood, keeping from launching himself across the house to ravage you.

“You know,” you started, voice sultry. “I’m not feeling too well. I was wondering if you could give me a proper diagnosis, Doctor Thomas. Help a girl out, please? Your patient is ready.”

Thomas’ normally caramel eyes flashed completely black, taking slow, calculated steps in your direction. You remained where you stood, waiting until he was flesh against you, towering above you in overwhelming glory. His hands cupped your face, thumbs skimming the outline of your jaw, brushing your glimmering lips. The gesture made you mewl, sinking into his touch.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear you aren’t feeling too well, miss,” he played along, the low octave of his voice making it gruff and husky. “Please, tell me all about what is going on. How are you feeling?”

Thomas knocked over the basket of laundry that was on the table just inside the room in search for a pad of old paper and a dying pen. You giggled, tilting your head as he pretended to write. “Well, I have this horrible ache that I can’t seem to get rid of. I’m always hungry for some sausage. And I have all this pent up energy that doesn’t seem to go away. I really need your help, Doctor.”

Thomas glanced up from the paper, biting his lip. “I see. Well, I will need to run some extra tests on you first to make a proper diagnosis.”

He was backing you into the room, your legs hitting the bed in a flash. The pad of paper was tossed into the hallway outside the room, the page having some scribbles that was supposed to resemble words. In the process of walking to the bed, Thomas’ strong hands moved from your face to your hands, moving slowly up your arms to your shoulders. The silky robe you were wearing to cover your lingerie was pushed from your body, melting off your arms into a puddle on the floor. The steps left it forgot and unneeded, your underwear soon to follow.

His luscious lips were attached to yours in a fiery kiss before your back even met the lumpy mattress. The former runner laid on his side, propped up on his elbow to hover over you as you laid back completely. The kiss was smooth yet messy, lips dragging against each other in a sloppy fashion. His strong hand skimmed against your waist, letting his lips work magic up above. The soft smack of lips against lips filled the small room,open-mouth kisses shared without remorse. Tongues twisted and tangled together, circling each other in blissful silence. His lips commanded every kiss, dictating when he would pull back for air before dipping back down for another greedy intake. Teeth occasionally clashed and noses frequently bumped, both of you beginning to get a high from the sensual kisses, his tongue tracing the insides of your cheeks.

Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, struggling to tug it up and off of him between kisses. He sat you both up so you could properly remove it. The fabric peeled from his skin in slow motion, the reveal of his almost pristine skin making your eyes glimmer. The scar of his gunshot was dark in contrast to his somewhat pale skin, his chest and back speckled with dark dots in the form of moles and beauty marks. As the sleeves unraveled from his arms, his biceps were revealed, the henley having concealed the true strength he possessed. Veins ran along his arms, his biceps flexed from the simple bend of an arm. His shoulders tensed and relaxed, pecs with the patch of chest hair you loved jumping slightly. His dark caramel eyes were shadowed when he glanced up at you through his eyelashes, the stare cut short when he resumed watching you remove the fabric from his skin, tossing it aside.

You were pushed back on the bed again with his lips on yours, your hands now free to roam his bare torso. His hands moved strategically down your body - first roaming your chest and giving your breasts a firm squeeze, then tugging your waist a bit closer to him so you were flesh against him, limb to limb, and finally gripping at your backside. The hem of your panties were snapped against your waist, the tender touch of his digits sending shivers up your spine at the same time. He played with the front of your panties, pushing you back on the bed before slipping his hand in your underwear.

The tips grazed your clit, a moan loud muffled by his lips. The faint noise made his finger rub faster and push harder. Your body began to burn from the pressure on your swollen nub, arching into his touch. His lips never broke from yours, only pushing harder against the while rubbing circles to your center. He could feel your shakes and trembles, breathy moans making his throat vibrate. His fingers rubs vigorously to your clit, making you swoon for the man.

Two fingers slid further down, spreading your folds to playfully tease your core. The tips slid in first, toying with your entrance by parting the pussy lips. When they dipped further in, the tips curled, nails beginning to scratch against your walls carefully. It didn’t hurt; it just made your stomach tingle with that sensation you were familiar with when it came to sex with your boyfriend. It fluttered and twisted in all the right ways, a coil slowly swirling itself into a tight knot.

Your lips broke from his when his fingers were knuckle deep inside you, beginning to thrust quickly into you despite the restriction of the panties catching on his hand. Your lips still skimmed his, sharing the occasional kiss as he moved in and out of you, pleasing you relentlessly. When he pulled out, he spread wide, scissoring your entracing until you were exposed to everything and leaking around his fingers and down your thighs. They snapped back together so he could push into you once more, shoving deep enough to find your sweet spot. The touch made you shake, throwing your head back with loud moans. Thomas’ lips trailed down your cheek to your neck, placing kisses on your shoulder. His ears perked up at the squishing sound that came from his powerful thrusts, pursing his lips to keep from grunting.

“Thomas,” you whimpered, clawing your nails down his arms. His biceps flexed under the tips of your fingers, grinning into your shoulder. “More. I’m so close.”

“Do it,” he whispered back, sucking a dark mark to your skin. The pluck of his lips against your shoulder made you quiver, the knot inside you becoming unexplainably tighter. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling into the blankets you were laying on top of. You flailed around for anything to hold onto, settling on Thomas’ free hand, fingers naturally lacing together passionately. Your walls hugged around his digits, trying to keep them inside long enough for you to orgasm.

“Oh god,” you cried, tightening your hold on him. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming!”

“I love the sound of that, baby,” he said, pushing into you harder.

The powerful press of his fingers to your sweet spot, the rake of his nails along your sensitive walls, was the last straw. Your walls crumbled and the knot broke - not just unraveled. It was burned to a crisp in an everlasting flame that smoldering inside you from his touch. Your juices spilled out around him with a screaming moan from your mouth, coating his slender digits and escaping to soak your panties, core and legs.

He pulled out slowly, letting you relax against the bed. He watched your chest heave up and down unevenly, the look of contentment making you glow. His attention was turned to his freed fingers, watching drops of your juices drip slowly along them. They glistened and sparkled, his caramel eyes twinkling mischievously. His thumb pressed to the pointer finger and middle finger he had used to finger you, smearing the juices around seductively. Your eyes, hazy and shadowed, watched him, glued to the way his long, bony fingers rubbed together tauntingly.

Thomas turned to your, adjusting himself against the bed to hover over you better. Your legs tangled together and his chest was hot against your arm, making you sweat. The two wet fingers that were dipped in your sweetness touched your lips, your eyes meeting his dark ones. You questioned him silently, the man grinning.

“I have to check your mouth for any… signs of illness,” he murmured gruffly, trying to sound like the doctor you proclaimed him to be. “Now, baby. Say ahh.”

No hesitation befell you. Your lips parted and your eyes closed, taking the two digits into your mouth. He tasted of your salty sweetness, an odd tang coming from your own arousal. It wasn’t something you often tasted - it only came around if he kissed you after he crawled between your legs. This was much more prominent than you were used to, but you didn’t dismiss it. The digits played between your cheeks, wiggling around while your tongue lapped at the liquid on them. Your throat rumbled with the ahh noise you made for him, your tongue pressing down and the tip extending against his joint.

When his fingers were fully engulfed between your cheeks, knuckle deep while being cleaned, he pulled out slowly. Your lips parted, the pads of his fingers tugging your bottom lip on the way out. Your lips stayed parted, panting slightly. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, tasting the last of yourself that remained from his removal, Thomas grunting in approval.

The runner stood from the bed, fumbling with the button on his jeans. With the pop of it and the zip sliding down, the denim sunk against his hips, showing the black band of his boxer briefs and the deep v-lines that were embedded into his sides. The dark trail of hair disappeared beneath the black band, a noticeable bulge at the end of the path. He seemed to be in a taunting mood, the drop of the jeans down his legs slower than you would prefer. His boxers followed thereafter, the man left bare after an agonizing wait. With the boxers removed, his cock was free, hard, long and girthy. It stuck straight out, pointed in your direction like it was a compass pointing north. The tip was red and swollen, wet with precum. Veins ran along the shaft, disappearing in the curly patch of hair at the base, residing on his groin in a bushy bundle.

He stroked himself slowly, looking down at his cock proudly. A lopsided smile curled on his lips, his dark eyes glowering at you when he peered upwards. “Time to take your temperature, baby.”

The man stood on the side of the bed, watching you twist onto your hands and knees. Eagerly, his tip was taken between your hollowed cheeks, harshly sucking at the head of his cock. Thomas let out an inhuman groan, threading his fingers through your hair, gripping it tight on the back of your head. He stared down at you, hungrily watching you ravish is length with your mouth.

You bobbed along his length, swirling your tongue around the tip and along the pulsating vein on the underside of him. He twitched when you passed over the rough patch on his frenulum, grunting as it slithered down his length. Every inch of him disappeared into your mouth and down your throat, expertly managing the size of him. Your hand moved to caress his balls, fondling them in the palm of your hand. The deeper you slid on his length, the closer you hugged his balls to his body.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back. The motion inadvertently made him tug on your hair, pushing you closer to his groin. Your nose buried into the hairs at the base of his shaft, eyes watering slightly from how deep he was going. It didn’t stop you from sucking, licking furiously at his length. “Just like that.”

His hand went slack, guiding you to bob ferociously along his length. Your slurped, gagging on his cock. You pulled away with subtle pops, kissing along the length while kissing at it. Thomas groaned, mumbling for more.

But before you could give him more, he pushed you back onto the bed, a squeak leaving your mouth. The man was hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Eyes locked in a passionate connection, his smile curling. “I’m going to administer a quick breast and vaginal exam. Alright?”

“Whatever you need to do, Doctor Thomas.”

Your back arched off the bed, allowing Thomas to strip off the bra you were wearing. His lips attached to the right breast immediately, his hand groping the left in the palm. Much of the skin around the plump bud was taken into his mouth, Thomas happily sucking at your breast. Your hands wove through his dark locks, feeling the soft silk between your fingers. Your hand rest against the back of his head, pushing him closer to your chest.

Your moans didn’t cover the pop that resounded around the room when he pulled back, lips leaving your skin for a single second. He peppered red marks on every inch of your chest, flicking his tongue across your nipple hastily. His hand, wrapped firmly around your other breast, squeezed it, jiggling it between his fingers. When his lips swapped to the other breast to repeat the process, you were seeing stars.

Traveling south, you barely made out the words he spoke against your stomach between kisses. “No lumps. You definitely have some healthy breasts there, ma’am.”

“That’s good,” you mused. “My boyfriend likes them a lot, so it’s good that they are healthy.”

“You should definitely let him keep doing whatever he is doing to them,” Thomas quipped, spreading your legs to kiss at your thighs. “He’s helping keep them healthy.”

“Right,” you laughed, not believing his professional reasoning.

Thomas shook his head, dragging your panties down your legs. You expected him to bury his face in your pussy as soon as you saw the panties fly across the room - and you were half right. He lips were on your core, tongue deep inside you. But, his cock hovered above you, still thick and ready for you. His legs were on either side of your head, his mouth going to town between yours.

His tongue swirled in circles around your core, tracing the tip along your walls. In return, your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, keeping him steady so you could suck him back. Your head bobbed up and down along his length, going as fast and hard as he was with your pussy. You were growing wet, your taste buds tickled with pleasure and your core slick with your juices that leaked onto his tongue. Thomas was selfish, lapping up every drop you let out in his search for your sweet spot.

You moaned around him when he managed to graze it with the tip of his tongue, vibrating the entire length of him. You were growing weak already, his magical tongue skillfully pleasing you in the ways you always imagined. Your body was tensing and your stomach was coiling, the orgasm you had before making your will weak. His touch made you more sensitive, ready to burst at any second. But you tried to stay strong, stroking and bobbing him just as he licked you, trying to get him to an orgasm he had yet to have.

When your body was wracked with intense quivers, your bobbing growing sluggish and sloppy, Thomas pulled away. His cock was pulled from your mouth with a low whimper from you. Your back, having arched off the bed to shove your body into his, dropped heavily to the bed in defeat, pouting at the former runner. He walked to a pile of objects that had been discarded in the corner of the room, your frown piercing his bare backside. Slowly relaxing, the knot vanishing from inside you, you huffed.

“Seriously?” you asked yourself. Thomas must have heard since he sent you a sideways glance. “Rude much.”

“Sorry, baby,” he breathed, grabbing something from the pile. A rope dangled between his fingers when he turned back to you, the same one you used frequently to do the laundry at your tiny home, stringing up clothes to dry outside. Your brow rose, wondering what he was planning to do with that. “I had to go get ready for your treatment.”

“Oh really?” you asked. Thomas pulled you up into a sitting position, wrapping the rope around your dainty wrists. Tugging it into a knot, the rope didn’t constrict you too tightly to cut off circulation. There was no chance of escape though. If you struggled, your wrists would turn red with raw burn itching them. “Well, what’s the prognosis, doc?”

“You, my dear, are in dire need of cum in your pussy,” he whispered seductively, making you shiver and mewl quietly. “You haven’t had the proper dosage lately and you aren’t feeling well because of it. We don’t want it to get worse, so we will do some emergency treatments to make sure that you are going to be ok.”

“Whatever you say, Doctor Thomas.”

Thomas grinned, settling between your legs. His shaft slid between your folds, making you cry out for him. You were eagerly waiting for him to do something more, but nothing immediate came. “I need to give you a shot now, baby. To give you the proper medicine. It’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

The tip prodded at your entrance before slipping in entirely - and all too slowly. The former runner pushed your legs apart to spread you wide, listening to the moan that erupted from your mouth when he pushed inside you. The sensation didn’t last, Thomas pulling out completely and leaving you whimpering for more. The process was put on repeat, his cock sliding into you so you felt otherworldly before disappearing completely, leaving you void yet wet with desire.

His lips trailed down your face, kissing your forehead, cheeks, chin and nose before colliding with your lips in a short connection. Your tongues tangled shortly, a trail of saliva stringing you together when he pulled away abruptly. Your eyes were glazed over with ecstasy, the emotion dulled because of his inconsistent thrusts. It was kept alive by his plump lips lavishing your face and neck, sucking dark marks that discolored your skin. Each thrust into you vanished before it could do more, teasing you into oblivion.

With a whine and scratch of bound hands along his chest, his cock stayed deep inside you, stilling absolutely. The slow circle of his hips against yours did little to keep the fire inside you burning, praying for more. More pleasure, more moans, more of his hips smacking into yours as he pounding hard into you, more arousal from his fingers to your swollen clit. When he finally pulled back, the feeling was kept low, his thrusts slow and calculated. The ease of his dick sliding out and the gradual push back in made you tremble with desperation. They didn’t hit the spots you knew he was capable of hitting every time he fucked you and the pleasure that came from his enormous member stretching you, filling you to the brim, was lackluster.

“Please,” you whined, scratching at his chest since you couldn’t wrap your arms around his neck as you wished. Brown orbs, darkened from the angle and lust, met yours in a spicy stare, waiting for you to continue - almost as if he was waiting for this exact moment. He knew deep inside what you were going to say and he had been waiting for this exact moment. His calculated movements were intended for this exact second.

“What do you need, baby?” he asked, kissing your lips softly, his slow thrusts never ceasing. “Did the shot hurt? I know you’ve never enjoyed shots.” He was speaking the truth; you hated shots. But this kind of shot was the one you wanted. It just wanted doing it for you. “Or is the medicine working? Do you need more?”

“I need more,” you cried, desperate to cling to him. The binding around your hands kept you from holding him between your arms, hugging him to your chest. “Please, Tommy. I need more.”

“More what?” he asked, pushing you to beg for him more. He wanted to hear you plead. He wanted to hear you cry. He wanted you to ask him for everything you wanted before he pushed so fast and hard into you that you were seeing stars. It killed him, but he waited, pursing his lips into a tight line to keep from smirking. “What do you need from your doctor, baby?”

“More!” you cried loudly, throwing your head back. Your hands left his red, scraped chest, extending above your head. Thomas’ eyes directed to your outstretched chest, your back arching off the bed and pushing into him more. “Please, Tommy. I need to feel you. I need you to go faster and harder until I am screaming your name. I want to feel your thick cock pounding my aching pussy. I want my tits to bounce when you thrust into me relentlessly. God, I need to feel you so bad. This slow moving shit isn’t doing it. The medicine you are giving me isn’t making me feel better. I need more of you. You are my medicine.”

“So, you want more?”

“Yes,” you panted, turning to meet his eye. “I need more, Doctor. I need more of you, daddy.”

“Mmm,” he let out, licking his lips. “Say that again.”

“I need you to pound me hard and fast, Doctor Daddy,” you begged teasingly, Thomas grunting. The name got to him, his hidden attraction for the daddy kink exposed to the confines of your room. “Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me. Have your way with me. Just, please, I beg of you, make me cum.”

“Say it one more time, baby,” came his gruff voice.

“Please, daddy,” you breathed, struggling to take his face in your hands. You did you best, pulling him towards you. Your lips brushed, hot breath hitting each  of your faces. “Please, fuck me. Hard and fast so I scream. Then everyone can know who I love and who is taking care of me.”

You shared a lingering kiss, the touch of your lips so scarce, it felt like a dream. The tingle that was left from his lips on yours was all that remained when he backed away, leaving you to wonder if this was real or fake. It bordered on reality, the sensation making your heart pump harder and your blood flow faster. Only Thomas could make you feel that way from a simple kiss.

The next time he pulled out, he shoved back into you as quick as the pull was. A scream resonated off the walls, a spike of pleasure hitting your system. And it didn’t stop there. His thrusts grew hard and fast, just as you had pleaded. His cock pistoned in and out of you at godly speeds, the clap of your hips growing loud and more frequent as sweat built up between your bodies. His hands held your hips down against the bed, your legs staying parted so he could easily move in and out of you.

“You like that, baby?” he asked, voice low and husky. You moaned in response, squirming against his grip slightly. That noise you made only made his thrusts faster and harder, the man pounding you into the mattress under you. The entire bed squeaked under the weight of your thrusting forms, banging against the wall in a constant ‘thump, thump thump’ that got louder and more frequent as time passed. The stream of his cock thrusting in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot, was marvelous, your sight spotting. “You like me fucking you like this?”

“Yes,” you panted.

“You always love when I push my cock so deep inside you that you can’t breath. You always moan and pant like a dog, begging me to make you cum.” His hand moved from your hip to your chest, fondling a breast in his hand. The other remained bouncing with his countless thrusts, making his mouth water. “I love the way your breasts move when I thrust into you and the way your pussy clings around me. You like the feeling of my big, fat cock between your walls?”

“Yes, daddy,” you squeaked, head thrown back further. “You feel so good, Tommy. Please, don’t stop! Faster, harder!”

He did as you requested - if that were even possible. Your bodies crashed in a noisy array of smacks and claps, the skin on skin contact echoing around the crisp air of the room. It smelled of sweat and sex, a lustful scent ingrained in the wood and sheets around you. Sweat poured from your body from the heated aura of your bodies against one another, making you stick together. Thomas’ wild thrusts hit your g-spot every time he pushed into you like it was a magnet drawn to the source of your pleasure. Each tap made your walls hug around him more, clamping down on every inch of his erect cock that fit inside you, stretching you wide.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing harsh circles to it. He was trying to push you over the edge with the extra stimulation. The nub he pushed against was sensitive, every gentle swipe of the pads against it making you quiver. The subtle distinction of his fingers tracing letters against your arousal, spelling out his name for you to remember for all of time, was ebbed in your mind, your body beginning to writhe against the sheets, getting tangled in them. Your bound hands struggled to tangling through his messy locks, wet with sweat, trying not to smack him in the face in the process. Tugs to the dark tendrils made Thomas release a breathy moan, his adam’s Apple bobbing.

“Oh God, Tommy,” you cried out. The knot in your stomach twisted tightly, clenching almost painfully from holding on to your release. Your limbs were aching and your head was pounding, the pressure of ecstasy weighing down on your body. The coil was urgently ready to unwind, yet it didn’t. It sat like a lump inside you, craving release that couldn’t seem to come. No matter how hard or fast Thomas thrust, how good he made you feel, the orgasm never arrived. His heavy breathing was an indication he was close, but it was growing hard on you. Each pulse of his cock through your walls made you itch with pain. His finger on your clit made you wish he wouldn’t. “Stop. Tommy, stop.”

His thrusts slowed to a stop when he heard your plea, his eyes growing worried. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you panted, relaxing into the bed. The pain was slowly beginning to subside, your limbs going limp. “I-I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Just… a little much I guess.”

Thomas chuckled, burying his head in your neck. “Guess I pleased you too much, huh?”

“You’re just that good I guess,” you joked.

“So, are you trying to say I gave you too much medicine?” he laughed, making your lips pucker sourly at his joke with the role playing circumstance you had put upon yourselves. “You’re not going to overdose on me, are you?”

“Not this time,” you laughed. “You’re taking good care of me.”

You had a double meaning in your words. In the current situation, you meant that he was making you feel good with the sex. But, you also implied that he took good care of you since curing you from the Flare. Even if he irritated you with the constant home care, you were thankful that he was taking such good care of you.

“I’m glad,” he said, kissing your forehead.

His eyes met yours, the man giving a gentle smile before leaning in to give you a tender, loving kiss. You eased into it, returning the kiss with an equal amount of passion. It wasn’t messy or careless where spit was flying and tongues tangled in messy swirled between your cheeks. It was the simple ones where his lips overtook yours, dragging along them in blissful silence. The quiet smack of your lips pulling apart made your heart race, pushing up for another kiss.

You felt emptiness hit you when he pulled out of you, his lips parting from yours. You felt him smile before he vanished from your view. You were flipped onto your stomach, propped up on shaky hands and knees. His toned body pressed against you, his shaft between your legs in your folds. His hands pushed your hair over your shoulders, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“We’re not done with your treatment though, baby,” he whispered. Kissing your ear, he continued. “You need some more medicine and this time, it’ll work. Just one more shot, alright?”

“Of course, Doctor Thomas.”

Thomas grinned, leaning back on his legs. His shaft slid into you, hearing you moan into the pillows your face was buried in. He pulled out slowly at first, slamming into you furiously. The speed picked up quickly until his hips were slamming into your backside in a noisy clatter. Your butt pushed up and into him, the angle allowing him to push deep inside you until he was hitting your cervix and g-spot. You moaned loudly with every push he did, shaking intensely.

“Thomas!” you screamed, the name muffled. Thomas pouted, his unseen expression displaying how much he wanted to hear you scream his name. So, his hand darted out, finding the hair he pushed aside before, pulling it back just enough so you couldn’t hide. His ears rang with the shrill screams from your mouth, the pout turning upright into a bright grin. His name flowed from your lips repeatedly, something to the effect of ‘fuck me, Thomas’.

“That’s right,” he hummed, smacking your backside with the palm of his hand. It ripped out a louder noise, a bright red hand print glowing against your skin. Thomas grunted in approval, jerking your head back further and placing more loud slaps to your behind. You were quivering under him, his powerful thrusts allowing his cock to piston in and out of you rapidly. Your walls tightened around him, his pulsating increasing and flowing through your walls into your veins. Your stomach clenched, the orgasm you hadn’t gotten before resurfacing - and quickly. “Moan for me, baby. Scream for me. Cum for me. Fuck, tell everyone who is fucking you.”

“Thomas is,” you squealed, tugging at the sheets with your bound hands. “Fuck! Thomas, you feel so good. I’m going to cum!”

“Cum for me,” he gasped, his thrusts getting sloppier. He was close, the knot inside of him constricting just like yours. It was burning, sitting in a fire that was crisping the edges to loosen it, shredding it into pieces. His chest heaved, panting for air as he pushed to an end. “Cum with me, baby.”

“Give me all of my medicine,” you teased. “I’m ready for it.”

The air caught in Thomas’ throat, hitching completely. His thrusts sputtered, letting out a raspy gasp. Your sultry words made the knot vanish, his seed spilling into you. Strings of hot, white juices shot out of the tip with force, filling your insides with warmth. Your walls, tightly hugging his entire shaft, milked the drops out of him, his orgasm long overdue. More of his essence seeped out of him, having built up from every delayed end, ejaculated deep into your womb.

The warmth he gave you, the full feeling you got, made your own knot crack. Your toes curled into the sides of his legs, your legs and arms going weak. Your juices splattered out around him, coating his shaft in arousal. A prolonged moan of his name slid off your tongue, feeling his thrusts slow to ride you both through your highs. Juices combined inside you, mixing together in a sea of salty sweet gold.

You collapsed on your stomach when he pulled out, Thomas falling on your side. His hand ran along your back, rubbing out knots that formed from the countless amounts of sex. He heard your content sigh, smiling to himself. His hand rested to your bum, carefully running his fingers along the stinging skin where his hand prints remained. Playfully, the tips of his fingers slid back between your legs, feeling the wetness of your core that was oozing from your combined juices.

That made him harden.

The heat of his hand left, the man swapping to stroke his length. He was hardening from his half-limp state, elongating and beginning to twitch, ready for another round. His girthy length sat in his palm, skin tugged over the head before resuming it’s normal state. You turned to watch him jerk his cock, preparing himself for a new round of sex. The red tip glared your way, your mouth watering behind seals lips. You loved watching him stroke himself, veins popping from his hand from his strong hold on the length. It glistened slightly from your juices still residing on his skin, the twinkle matching the mischief in his eye.

His tongue passed over his lips, rolling you onto your side. Your back was against his chest, his heart beating heaving against his ribs. A hand slid under your torso, locked around a breast, while the other slid between your legs, gripping your thigh and lifting your leg up. It shook weakly but remained danling in the open air, giving Thomas the perfect space to place his cock at your core. His lips found your ear once more, nipping the lobe.

“Your treatment isn’t over yet,” he huskily muttered. “You are desperately need of some Vitamin D that only I can give you. It’ll keep you happy and healthy.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Doctor Thomas?” you asked, turning your head to kiss his lips. “Give me my treatment. I’m still not feeling so well. Please, Doctor. Make me feel better.”

Thomas groaned incoherently. His cock slid into your tight hole, the tip resting to your g-spot. You moaned loudly, the noisy drawn out with a odd vibration that echoed off the walls. The former runner you called your boyfriend wasted no time, thrusting into you quickly and powerfully. One leg remained flat to the bed while the other bent, his foot pressing into the bed to give him some leverage with his thrusts. Your head fell back against his shoulder from the pleasure he was causing you, tilted enough to see the focused look on his face. His lips were puckered in concentration, but his eyes were loving, staring back into yours.

His face leaned down, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. Your lips parted, your tongue taking control and slipping between his. The man let you control it, pushing harder into you while still focusing on his cock pushing into you at a fast but steady pace. His hips pressed against your butt when he pushed harshly into you, shaft sliding in and out in a slick mess. He was coated in your arousal when he emerged, disappearing back with a swift thrust. His balls, tighter than normal from his prior orgasm, still managed to flounced against your folds. Every thrust into you allowed your leg to bounce up and down through the air like your breasts.

Pulling from the sloppy kiss, he nuzzled into your cheek, kissing it tenderly. “I love you,” he whispered for the first time that night. His fingers lifted from your chest, running through your hair lovingly. Your heart rate picked up, slamming against your ribs. He always managed to make you float away on cloud nine, his declaration of love amanging to pique your own emotions for the man. He was one of a kind and made your life complete. And even if he was deeply dug in your pussy for added bliss, you were in heaven from being in his arms, hearing him mumble those three words.

“I love you too,” you returned, kissing his speckled jawline that had the teeniest bit of scruff growing on it. “Now, please Tommy. Make me cum. Give me that vitamin D. Fuck me fast and hard. Choke me. Pull my hair. Do anything, as long as I cum while you are inside me.”

“That’s hot,” he groaned into your cheek.

Running his fingers one last time through your hair, he placed it on your neck, constricting lightly. It kept your breathing tight, but the lack of one sense amplified the rest. His cock sliding into you felt ten times better, your core clenching around him. The pleasure was intense, flooding your body quickly. Your moans were choppy, your hands trying to grab at anything you could since they were still wrapped together, red from constant struggles. Your nerves were heightened from his neverending thrusts, feeling your stomach tightening once more. His tip hit your sweetest spot, the happiness you got from it making you quiver.

You came first this time. Your walls retracted into him, the knot exploding in fireworks through your system. You moaned - despite how gurgled it came out from the lack of air. Juices washed out around his shaft, your walls clinging to him as you spilled out. Your toes curled through the air, flexing and extending as your high hit. You wished you could have wrapped your arms back around him, scratching and tugging at his body until he was scraped with long red marks that showed your pleasure.

The moisture and heat from your orgasm made him break. His seed shot out of the tip, filling you to the brim in a mixture of your juices. Your body shook while his lurched, each pulse of his cock sending another string into you. His thrusts eased to a stop, the last drops trickling into your system. He could feel your walls throbbing around him, making him twitch. His hand dropped from your throat, both of you relaxing into the other in post orgasm glow.

The ropes were unwound before he pulled out of you, dipping down to kiss your core that seeped of your combined juices. You whimpered from his tender kisses, afraid you would get aroused again. But he carefully kissed any pain away, the taste of you both on his lips. Inching up your body, he left a tasteful kiss to your lips, falling to your side.

His fingers traced to your stomach, drawing random shapes to your bare skin. The other hand was back to running through your hair, your head angled to watch him. His content face had sparkling eyes and a toothy, lopsided smile. Neither of your cared that you were laying in bed naked without a cover. The heat around you was enough to counter the chill that hit you from the sweat on your skin. Your hand lifted to run fingers against his speckled cheek, tracing the constellation of moles on his skin. His hair was sticking up and his chest was still heaving, making his muscled bulge as he tried to relax into a state of normalcy.

“So,” you started, meeting his bright caramel eyes. “What do you recommend, Doctor?”

Thomas chuckled, burying into your shoulder to hide his amusement. You grinned, feeling the love radiating from his pores. “Well, I could write you a prescription,” he started, kissing your shoulder. “But, you definitely need a dose of sex with Doctor Thomas at least once a day until you are feeling better. We don’t want to keep you feeling so wound up and unreleased.”

“What if I never get better?” you challenged playfully.

“Guess you are stuck with me then, huh?” Thomas teased.

“I don’t know if that’s necessarily a bad thing.”

Thomas nodded, taking a deep breath. A silence formed between your both, your hand resting on his on your stomach. You jumped in surprise when he propped up on his elbow staring down at you. “Something has been bugging me this entire time, Y/N,” he stated, making you frown. The use of your name instead of a cute pet name had you worried. “I’m not really complaining because this entire thing was sexy and hot and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I will never forget this and the sex… god, this was the best sex ever. But…”

“But what, Tommy?”

“Why?” he asked. “What was the point in all of this? I highly doubt that it has to do with you just wanting to be kinky and wanting to play doctor and patient. I know you better than that. What are you trying to tell me?”

“Sometimes, I really hate how smart you are,” you laughed bitterly. “WICKED was right to use you, Tommy.”

“Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you sighed. “I… I was just feeling so overwhelmed, Thomas. You know I love you and I always will. I want to be by your side for the rest of my life. But, your constant checking on me like I’m going to suddenly get sick again and die just is stressful. I love knowing that you care but you take it too far. I’m suffocating under your constant care. I know you want me to be ok but I’m not going to up and die randomly. You can relax, babe.”

Thomas’ mouth parted and closed, trying to find the words he wanted to say. His fingers moved to lace with yours, giving it a gentle, comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, rubbing his lips together. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I just wanted to know you were ok. I almost lost you once and I’m scared something will happen and I will lose you for real. I’m afraid I will catch on too late and won’t be able to save you. I’m sorry that I made you feel like that. I really am.”

“It’s fine, Tommy,” you told him, pulling him into a tender kiss. “I know you didn’t mean it. I know you care. Just… lay off a bit. We can arrange something to keep an eye on me since we know I’m not immune. But don’t stress yourself. Don’t drag me off to take my temperature and check for signs of the Flare. Don’t panic and think I will drop dead if I walk through the Safe Haven. Don’t keep me locked up in bed because you want me to be safe in your mind. I will be fine because I have you and the others helping me if I need it. But, definitely, I have you caring for me every step of the way because you love me and I love you.”

“Alright,” he agreed, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop being sorry,” you laughed. “Shit happens. We work it out, Tommy. That’s what a couple does.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“No, I don’t deserve you,” you laughed. “You know, I do have a reason now to see my doctor. I need my medicine, Tommy.”

Thomas’ eyes lit up, a smirk curling on his face. “That’s right. Your prescription,” he hummed. “What are the chances that by cumming in you, I’m keeping you Flare free?”

“Oh god, Thomas,” you groaned. “I was just implying that we need to have more sex.”

“I know,” he hummed, kissing you softly before moving to straddle you. His shaft, growing harder by the second, slid between your folds. “I need to give you lots of medicine to make sure you are safe. So, let me give that to you.”

“I like that idea,” you mewled, wrapping your arms around his neck like you hadn’t done since you crawled into bed. “Doctor Thomas to the rescue.”

“Damn straight.”

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A Whole Lotta Love (a Dean/Cas Coda to 14x09 “The Spear”)

With a broken tape deck, Dean and Cas have a long stretch of silence to fill. But just how do they do it? And they say driving helps take your mind off of things... even forget dangling pianos hanging over one's head.

           “You know what would be good right now?”

           Cas glances at Dean from out the corner of his eye, the other man focused, for once, on the road ahead. “Some Zepp,” he says, “I can picture it – us tearing down this open stretch of highway with Immigrant Song playing in the background. Oh! Or maybe Kashmir…”

           “That would be nice, yes,” Cas sighs, “…if our tape deck weren’t broken.”

           “Yeah – yeah…” Dean drums his hands on the wheel. “Y’know, I don’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve driven this long in silence? Not that this isn’t nice. It is. Its just music –“

           “Fills the background,” Cas finishes his thought, “adds layers…depth… security.”

           Dean murmurs his agreement. They drift back into themselves, the tides of their conversation slowly receding from shore. It’s been like that since they left the Bunker. Every so often one of them would start speaking, only to lull back into the quiet. Dean would point out different road signs, crack a joke or two to Cas. And Cas would smile, respond with his own observation; maybe a memory that would have both of them grinning at each other. Enjoying the shared moment.

           “I feel like we haven’t had a lot of this,” Dean says, unprovoked.

           “A lot of what?”

           “This.” Dean circles his finger in the air. “You and me. Shootin’ the breeze instead of demons or vamps or whatever else supernatural creature the world throws at us.”

           “Really?” Cas asks him, “Has it been that long since you and I were… alone?”

           “Yeah,” Dean says, blushing, “Not that I’ve been… counting, or whatever. But between Michael, Jack, and the growing network of hunters it’s hard to just find time to think or… breathe.”

           “Those seem like things you don’t need another person for.”

           “I like having you near when I do those things.”

           “Even breathing?”

           “Even breathing…”

           Cas watches Dean pay the road more attention than he’s ever seen him give it. Like the stretch of asphalt holds all the answers their destination was promised. Its unnerving that he thinks good safety practices as weird behavior, but he misses having Dean’s eyes on him rather than what’s ahead. ‘We’ve had enough luck to not crash so far… I��m sure we can push it a few more times.’

           “Hey Cas?”

           “Yes, Dean.”

           “How was Heaven?” Cas pauses, unsure of how to answer. Dean fills the vacuum with his own drawling ramble. “I mean, you didn’t talk about it much after bringing Jack back and – you said it was in trouble? I know since Gabriel didn’t make it back, stuff up there was running kinda off and – I mean, if you needed to go and make sure… it’s not like I can stop you –“

           “My service to Heaven is over,” he tells him, “I have done… all I could. And I feel I have repaid my debts to the other angels. Naomi told me as such –“

           “Naomi? Ol’ girl’s still kicking?”

           “Apparently it takes more than one old scribe and a rebel angel to kill her.” Cas chuckles, “She has been keeping the peace among all seven of my brothers and sisters that serve under her now.”

           “It’s gotten that bad?” he asks.

           Cas nods. “I don’t know how Heaven might survive. And that might be a problem we deal with later, once our Michael problem is solved.”

           “We?”

           “Of course… Dean,” Cas says, “you didn’t think I would go back, after all this was over. Did you?” The thought stings, but he doesn’t let it fester. ‘Don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Castiel…’

           Dean shakes his head furiously. “No, no I would – not realistically, after all we… but…”

           “But…”

           “It’s stupid…”

           “If it’s causing you this much stress, I assure you it isn’t.”

           “Well, I don’t know,” Dean sighs, grip tightening on the wheel. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna blink and – poof! You’ll disappear. It’s irrational and dumb but it… it sticks. Even though you’ve proven time and time again you’re here to stay and I want to believe it. Except this little part of me thinks it might be… too good to be true, y’know? Kind of why I wanted only us on this I… I needed you here beside me.”

           “Dean I…” ‘When you finally allow the sun to shine on your face… that’s when I’ll collect you.’ “I don’t plan on leaving. Ever. I wish there was something I could do to relieve you of that worry.”

           “I don’t think you ever can but… being here it – it shuts it down.”

           His heart aches, yearns, and reaches out to the other man. But Cas keeps it behind steel walls, ensuring his secret never comes out. ‘It’s for the best… for all of us.’

           “God that was – this is what I mean,” Dean warbles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “If we had music we wouldn’t – it’s stuffy, isn’t it? Could you roll down – I’m gonna roll mine, I think we need some air, so could you…?” They leave the windows half-up. “Yeah… that’s better.”

           He still looks uncomfortable. Dean shifts continuously. Sliding his hands up and down the wheel, taking one off to lean either on the door or to fiddle with the radio. Cas suggested they turn it on, when Dean discovered the tape deck was broken. “I don’t… it’s not the music I wanted you to hear.”

           Cas understands how much music means to Dean. What it means to probably every person on Earth. Each vibration and note a key that unlocks a part of the soul. And when someone shares music, they’re giving you a chance to know who they are and what they feel.

           Dean handed him the mixtape ages ago. He barely looked Cas in the eye when he did it, muttering all the while. “I know Metatron beamed probably the entire discography of the world into your head but I… figured you might want to hear what good music sounds like for yourself.” Cas enjoyed it immensely. He found himself banging his head to the loud, fast tracks. He crooned along to the power ballads. Even in moments alone, Cas hummed the melody, the words on a loop in his mind as he performed for no one yet also one very special person.

           “You need coolin’… baby I’m not foolin’…” It’s a low whisper, his gravely voice shredding the words in a discordant tone. “I’m gonna send you back to schoolin’…”

           “Way down inside,” Dean joins in, his own voice just as rough to hear, “honey you need it.” He finally looks away from the road, to Cas, his jaw slack with awe. “I’m gonna give you my love…”

           “I’m gonna give you my love, oh…”

           Together. “Wanna whole lotta love… Wanna whole lotta love…” They’re smiling, infected with the rhythm. As Baby purrs down the highway, Dean and Cas Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” from the top of their lungs, voices echoing into the clear, blue sky. At some points, Dean forces Cas to play the air guitar. And he does, indifferent to how ridiculous he might look. Their singing mixes with laughter, and near the end the melody gets lost in the shuffle.

           Gasping for breath, Dean glances at Cas one more time before returning his gaze on the road. “What made you pick that song?”

           “I… I don’t know,” Cas confesses, “When I would listen to your… your mixtape I wound it back time and time again – just to that song. I think it’s my favorite.”

           “Not Stairway to Heaven?”

           Cas chuckles. “No this one… means more to me.” He finds something to distract himself, fiddling with the map in hand. Cas checks a passing road sign. “I think we’re coming up on the turn… you might want to switch lanes.”

           “Yeah, yeah…” Dean turns the wheel, Baby cruising over onto the right-most lane. They make it off the highway, closing the last couple of miles between them and the Spear. “Hey, Cas?”

           “Yes, Dean?”

           “That song means a lot to me, too. I’m glad you… appreciate it, same as me. S’why I put it at the end; kinda… ties it all together, in a way.” His neck is on fire, the red blush creeping up from behind his collar with unmatched speed. “I think we’re here… sheesh, what a dump.”

           “Well, it’s quite literally a dump, Dean.”

           “I know but you’d think she’d clean up since we’re paying her a house call and all.”

           “…She doesn’t know that we’re coming. It’s the element of surprise?”

           “Cas,” Dean says, his voice tinged with exasperation and something else, “…keep being you.” He drives Baby between two tall stacks of crushed aluminum and plastic. “Roll the windows back up, don’t want any stench messing up our ride.” Cas does so as Dean parks. He readies to leave, but something drapes over his hand, stalling him.

           “Hey, Cas…”

           “…Yes, Dean?”

           “I – um, I don’t know,” he rubs at his neck with his other hand, looking at Cas through his lashes. “I mean, I do know – it’s just…” Dean laughs, smile stretched wide across his face.

           The sight parts the clouds within Cas’s mind, and he feels a flicker of warmth burning inside his chest. “What?”

           “I think maybe I can get this out but… just give me a minute?” he asks, “There’s… a lot going on in my head.” Cas allows him to gather his thoughts, eyes never straying from his face.

           Except there’s a slight buzzing to his left, like a gnat flying to close to his ear. Cas turns to see what it is and –

           Duma stands a few feet away. Except it’s not Duma, it’s the Empty. They watch them, face etched in a cannibalistic grin. Behind them swirls a dark energy, a mass of shadowy tendrils swaying, as if ready to strike.

           The clouds roll back in.

           And Cas pulls away. “Maybe later,” he apologizes, “Dark Kaia might know that we’re here and… move. From what you’ve told me she can be very tricky.” Dean’s expression changes in an instant, and even though he tries to cover it up, Cas could see the flicker of disappointment flashing behind his eyes. As if Cas chopped down a tree in his emerald forest that took ages to grow.

           “Yeah… yeah.”

           Cas swings the door open, stepping out into the waste yard. Dean follows at a slower pace, head down, already readying the bag of weapons they brought with them. He watches the other man, pain and sadness welling inside of him, because of what he had to do. ‘Not now… I can’t – I can never…’ He slams the door. ‘I may never have it, but Dean deserves it.’

           “You seem good, lately. Happy, even…”

CHAPTER TWELVE: Love Street

Doctors, nurses and nuns file through the hallways of the Love Street General Health Center, providing aid both physical and spiritual to patients sitting or lying on gurneys. Down one hallway, a janitor mops away a speckled trail of blood leading to a ward room. The janitor does not enter this room, nor do any of the medical professionals or people of the cloth.

Inside, Kilo Staples is alone, recovering. Intermittently, he paces up and down at the far end of the room, pausing to glare out of the window. His eyes are clear. WITCH MOUNTAIN’s power has left his system entirely it seems, and anger hangs around him like an aura.

Facing the window, he hears the door to the room open. “I told you I’m fine,” he says without turning around, “If you people ain’t gon’ let me out of here, then piss off!” The door closes, but no doctor or nurse responds to him. Kilo frowns, and turns to see he is, apparently, still alone in the room. SATURN BARZ tentatively emerges, gathering its power in Kilo’s hands. “Who’s there…?”

“IT’S ME IT’S ME!!” comes the anxious reply from a few feet in front of him. Shizuka cancels her invisibility and appears in front of him, clad in her regular clothes now. She giggles nervously, embarrassedly.

“Shizuka?! Why are you…? Why did you have to sneak in? Is someone after you--?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I just didn’t feel like waiting around and signing a bunch of paperwork before I could see you, that’s all! Ehehehe...”

“Uh, ok… So what happened?” He clenches his fist, “What happened with WITCH MOUNTAIN?”

“Oh yeah yeah, that’s what I’m here to tell you! I beat her! We won’t be seeing her again!”

“Is she dead?”

“Uh…”

“Did you kill her?” he asks again, insistently.

Shizuka swallows, then says, “... No. We… she ended up saving my life, and we parted ways.”

After an agonizing moment, Kilo says through clenched teeth, “What?”

“Yeeeahh, it’s kinda a long story. But, like I said, don’t worry about it! She’s not going to bother us again, we’re not going to see her again!”

“Bother us?” Kilo whispers, chillingly soft. He steps towards her slowly, “Bother us? She tried to kill me. She tried to make me kill myself. And you just gonna play it cool like that’s all hunky. Fucking. Dory?”

“Kilo--” Shizuka starts to say, until he shoots his hand out and grabs her lapel.

“I told you before, you wouldn’t survive here. You’re too damn soft! Are you just gonna make friends with everybody who tries to kill you?! Is that it?!”

“Kilo, you’re hurting me--” she says steadily.

“Do you know what that cunt did to me?!! She made me feel things I never wanted to feel again! You think that’s funny?! You think this is a game, huh?!! If you think I’m just gonna lie down and be a stepping stone for you to find your mommy, you better think again!!”

A hard, cold hand tightly grips Kilo’s wrists, cutting his tirade short. When he looks, he sees that his hands and half his forearms have disappeared. Only no, they haven’t. He can still feel them gripping the fur of Shizuka’s jacket.

“You need to calm down,” she says, calmly, meeting his gaze. Kilo does not let go of her, but he does not shout at her either.

“I’m sorry,” Shizuka continues. “I understand if you’re angry. If you don’t wanna help anymore, I understand that too. I just… I did was what I thought was right. You don’t need to worry about Moya anymore. She won’t hurt us again.”

They stare at each other for a long time. Then at last, Kilo exhales and releases her. His hands become visible in the same instant. He walks backwards to the window and sits on the sill. Looking to the side, he mutters, “Sorry.”

Shizuka smiles, and trots next to him. “How are your injuries? Are they gonna keep you for long?”

“I’m fine. All they had to do was slap me awake,” Kilo replies, then irritatedly clicks his tongue, looking at the door and raising his voice, “Still gotta pay for the ambulance and the room, though! So much for affordable fucking healthcare…!”

She laughs. “I could pay your bills if you wanted, Kilo. I just need to call--”

“Don’t you say anotha word!” cries a voice, accompanied by the slam of the ward room door bursting open.

“C-KING!!!” squeals Shizuka, delighted to see the rapper standing in the doorway, all nonchalant and cool.

“It’s Jerome, baby. Kilo, brother, what’s this shit I heard about you drowning yourself, man?”

“Nothing,” Kilo replies. “It’s complicated. I’ll fill you in later…”

“Well, your business is your business. I just asked cause I worry, you know? But hey, don’t you worry about no bills. Ya boy’s got you covered!”

“Jerome, you don’t gotta--”

“I know I don’t, but I’m gonna anyway! It’s on me, no big deal.”

“... Thanks,” Kilo says, rubbing the back of his neck. He then glances at Shizuka, and says, “Shizuka, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” Shizuka, who watched the men with a beaming smile on her face, looks down and notices the blood emerging from her sleeve and streaming down her hand and fingers. “Whoa wow! Completely forgot about that!”

She removes her jacket and pulls up her shirt sleeve, revealing the cut on her upper arm. Blood streams dully from it and the flesh around it turns purple and bruised. “I got this in the fight with Moya.”

“That don’t look good. Who’s Moya?” Jerome remarks.

“You should go get that looked at.” Kilo says, chin resting in hand. “Could get infected...”

“Yeah…” Shizuka agrees, embarrassedly, “Good thing we’re in a hospital, right?” She stands, seemingly to leave, but then stops and turns around to bare her wound to Kilo. “You can fix it for me,” she says.

“What?” he asks.

“Re-composition of matter, that’s what you said your power was. Solid to liquid, liquid to gas and back again, right?”

“Well… yeah, but--”

“So, blood’s a liquid. So you should be able to do it on blood too. You can heal me Kilo!”

“What you talking about, girl?” Jerome cuts in.

“That’s not how it works, I can’t--”

“Oh shit!” Jerome cuts in, “she talkin’ about your voodoo thing, mayn?”

“Voodoo?” Shizuka asks.

“Yeah yeah! This one time I got a flat tire on my Lambo and my boy Kilo waved his hand over it and fixed it up! Voodoo shit! Magic!”

“It’s not magic, they’re called Stands!” Shizuka corrects. “They’re a manifestation of your fighting spirit.  I’ve got one too, and I bet Kilo can use his Stand to fix me!”

“Just hold on a damn minute--” Kilo argues, overwhelmed.

“Just give it a try!” Shizuka cries, insistently, “I know you can do it if you try!”

“Alright, fine!” Kilo says, relenting. He stands up and raises his hand to Shizuka’s wound, summoning the hand of SATURN BARZ. He gingerly places his hand over the cut, feeling out the composition of the running blood. Then he acts, exercising his ability, solidifying liquid into solid on a minute scale.

Shizuka hisses in pain, and Kilo jolts back, removing his hand quickly. “Sorry! I tried to… You ok?”

“It’s cold!” she giggles, despite herself, then inspects her arm. “And it’s good as new! See?” she declares, showing her arm. The cut is scabbed over. No blood is flowing, and the flesh around is still purple and bruised.

“Uh, sure…” says Jerome, skeptical. Kilo stays quiet.

“Do you know what this means? Kilo, you’re a healer!” Shizuka declares, delighted. Kilo stays quiet, dumbfounded.

“This is damn bizarre, man…” Jerome says, removing his hat and rubbing his head.

                                                      ***

Later on, as they leave the hospital, Jerome gripes to his companions, but also no one in particular, “So not only was the lead a bust, but we also got a undercover cop to deal with? Aw man, I don’t know about this no more. I don’t need no pig tryin’ to bust me on whatever.”

“Why would the police wanna do that to you, C-King?” Shizuka asks, quizzically. Kilo and Jerome both look at her, but neither of them answer.

“...Anyway,” Kilo says, “We still could use your help, Jerome.”

“A’ight,” Jerome sighs, “I’ll keep my ears open. But y’all gotta do something for me tonight.”

“What do you need?” Shizuka asks, just as Jerome pulls out two slips of paper from his pocket and hands them to her and Kilo. Upon seeing them, Shizuka appears to vibrate on the spot.

“Y’all have just received exclusive official backstage passes to my show tonight at the Santa Monica Pier! Take a load off for tonight and watch me do my thing!”

“Urrrgh…” says Kilo.

“That means you too, mang! And Shizu, between you and me...”

“... What?” Shizuka  asks after he doesn’t continue.

“Lean in,” he whispers, gesturing her closer, “I got a special guest playing with me tonight. Secret special guest. We kept it under wraps for a while now, so nobody but me and the coordinators know who.”

“Who?! Who is it?!”

Jerome whispers in her ear, covering his mouth with a hand. Kilo strains his ears to hear, then shudders all over when Shizuka releases a squeal of excited joy.

“NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY!!” she exclaims, bouncing around in a circle.

“Shh shh, keep it down, girl!” Jerome chides, laughing.

“Even though I nearly died a couple hours ago, this’ll be the best day of my life!!” she declares.

“Uh… ok. Always good to please a fan, I guess.” Saying this, he ushers her and Kilo into his limousine, and they drive away.

                                                         ***

Elsewhere, a stage is being set up right on Santa Monica Pier. In a trailer a short distance away, a woman sits in front of a mirror while a gaggle of make-up artists attend to every detail of her face. There is a white cloth over her head to protect her hair. A ladybug brooch pinned to the jacket is hanging on the back of her chair.

A professional looking woman clad in business attire and sensible shoes steps into the trailer, going over a clipboard. “Are you almost ready in here, boss?”

“Yes, Maria, of course I am,” the woman says, “But I don’t see why we have to do this all now. The show doesn’t start for another two hours.”

“Well, we need to do something with our time. C-King hasn’t arrived yet. He didn’t even show up for rehearsal!”

“Well, then give him another call! If Jerome doesn’t show up, then this isn’t happening.”

“I’m on it,” Mariah says, leaving the trailer. She hardly looked up from her clipboard.

The woman in the chair sighs, and reaches for the table. On it are six bullets, .32 calibre, arranged in a straight line along the edge. She takes all 6 in one hand and starts counting them, absently. “You can never be too early, am I right?” she says.

“Uh, of course, ma’am,” says one of the make-up artists.

The woman waves at them to stop and they recede. “It’s not right.” the woman says, standing up and removing the towel from off her head, revealing pink hair arranged in a large whorl. “It’s not right to keep a star as big as Trish Una waiting, right?”

From where they are, it’s possible to see the Hollywood sign in the distant hills. If one were to squint.

END of CHAPTER TWELVE

September 26, 2018 Mix

This week as I was curating the playlist, I got to thinking a lot about the way that our mood at a particular moment affects the music we choose to listen to. Some people say that they pick music the opposite of their mood to counteract a bad day, some choose to delve into that feeling and get in touch with it. I, being the latter, am having a memory ridden, reflective sort of week, so I chose songs that talk about the past a little bit and how they can influence the present/future. I hope you enjoy and find something that suits your mood. 

Spotify Playlist 1. Planet Hunter by Wolf Alice - This song is all about trying to recreate memories of something or with someone that happened awhile back, events which were really positive, but they cannot be rehabilitated. The artist reminds me of if Taylor Swift had not become a pop music sellout and instead taken a dark moody indie music route, and well, the results are stunning because she creates a depth of feeling to the music that most pop cannot do, in my opinion. The part I relate to the most that struck me was the repeated phrase of "I left my mind behind in 2015" which reaches a point where we, as listeners, realize that there are peaks in our lives that we wish to return to, especially at some of our valleys. I love this because it is an upbeat song about feeling out of place in the present, which is really fascinating. 2. St. Paul by Ritchy Mitch & The Coal Miners - Honestly, the piano that tinkles into a wonderful melody/rift in the beginning has to be the most alluring part of this song, which eventually becomes a much bigger feeling as it continues on. There aren't many striking piano-driven songs these days, so I was impressed with that along with the fact that this song clearly disses a saint, yet doesn't seem offensive in the slightest because it is so personal and not an attack on anything but oneself's feelings. The instrumentals and their uncertainty directly correlate with the restlessness of the lyrics and the crunchy sound of the singer's vocals; we love to see a parallel of the sound of the music to the actual meaning behind the song. All the literary techniques used to write a song is the reason why our ears are so attuned to it. 3. Window by Nana Grizol - Going along with the recurring theme of memories and the past, this song is literally a metaphor for a window looking into the past of what something once was. The defining line of this song comes when the singer refers to the window of the past and saying that "we can lift them/and focus on the moments that we lift in" which is a beautiful shift in tone from a reminiscent tune to one that look towards changing for the better and leaving the memories (whether good, bad or ugly) behind for someone else to revolve around. The artist, Nana Grizol, often covers really broad topics, such as negative feelings, the passing of time, moving on in a really succinct way that reaches an audience who needs to hear mantras in a refreshing way. I like to think of this song as a meditative yoga for the ears, please practice daily. 4. Solitary Daughter by Bedouine - I found this song in the most interesting way, so here it is: I was in the Mcnally Jackson bookstore on Prince Street in the city, rifling through the poetry section (as one does) and stumbled upon a book that transcribed songs into poems and included commentary from other writers and from the artists themselves, in a lot of cases. Reading these lyrics as a poem in a book was so thrilling because I often talk a lot about how some songs are really just poetry set to music, and in this case, other people must have thought so too. This piece is incredible in its way of speaking about a woman not needing someone to rely on or anything to sustain her, except for her own self, her home is herself, which is so liberating to both hear and read. I highly recommend reading the lyrics alongside listening. 5. Chemicals by Gregory Alan Isokov - Off of his brand new EP "Dark, Dark, Dark" which was released not but six days ago, is this peaceful and meaningful acoustic folky ballad by a personal favorite of mine. This piece is especially interesting because it plays off of the notion of the different ways in which chemicals can affect a person's body, kind of like the way a person who is really important in one's life can do the same. An image that I love to see showing up in art is the trope of hands trying to reach one another, whether it be in the "Creation of Adam" or an old film. This song plays with this lost hands imagery, in the line "how my hands can't seem to find your hands in the dark", which if I wasn't already in love with the song, sealed the deal for me 100%. Definitely check out the other two tracks off of the EP, they are wonderful as well. 6. Slipped by The National - This week's mix all began with this one sad ballad by my current favorite group and it just built off of this. I cannot express with words, on paper or in person, how much I am tethered to the lyrics of this song. Something about the raw and honest way that this was strung together speaks to a person who is done with being vulnerable to someone who has no intention in showing hidden parts of themselves back. In this narrative song, the speaker is talking to a girl who left the city to go to a more rural area in the South, thus separating the two, and telling how tragic it is to break away from something when he could not be what she wanted him to be. This is a solemn and intense vow to oneself that they will not break down and fall apart because of a love ending, this is another mantra. 7. We're So Lost by Voom - Upon first instinct, I would like to classify this song under tracks I would listen to whilst laying under the stars and thinking about our existence in such a big place or while slow dancing with someone and contemplating what is going on. But now, even in a good mood this song makes sense because no matter how you feel in terms of being in this world, everyone can agree that we have no idea what we're doing most of the times and are mere beings that are floating through time and space, trying to determine why we were placed here in the first place. In some ways, this can be thought of as a slow rock philosophical crisis song, or you can just love it because of the waltz like beauty of it. Your choice. 8. Fuck Love by Lalić - I definitely expected a cynical, bitter, anger driven song when looking at the title, but if I can say any cliché here, it's don't judge a song (book) based on its title (cover). If anything, it's more of a love song, explaining that the speaker has no real reason to be saying things like "fuck love". I think this is interesting because oftentimes, people don't like to be honest with themselves about their emotions, so instead they put up their walls immediately and turn to sarcastic, defensive comments like "i hate everyone" "love suck" or.... "fuck love". Being one of these people, this song opens up that term and exposes us hate poseurs who are very sensitive and truly love to love. The low fi rock sounds with a strong guitar line is nice to hear as well. 9. Blood Bank by Bon Iver - He is so detailed in his description of bags of blood, I have to believe that he actually had a conversation with someone he loved at a blood bank, discussing the differences between people's blood... which is... interesting. It is also vital to this song to understand that the two separate memories he tells about are very closely related because he is explaining the variability of relationships and how to decide whether it is prudent to enter into an affair or to be your own person and indulge in lonely behavior. Of course, it never hurts to be told really emotional things like this with Bon Iver's delicate crooning and layered harmonies that build throughout with such simple complexity, unmatched by other singers in his genre. 10. How It Gets In by Frightened Rabbit ft. Julien Baker - Your first question after listening may very well be "how what gets in?" as my first question was this exact thing. Maybe what gets in is this undeniably wonderful call and response song along with angelic harmonies. But maybe, what gets in, at least in terms of this song, is the literal healing of an open wound and how to properly dress it and make sure it doesn't get infected, or at least that was what was accounted by the singers in question. I interpreted the song to be a recounting and lesson on how love can come into one's life in unexpected places, and how just because there was hurt and pain in the heart for a long time, does not mean it has to stay that way forever. 11. NFWMB by Hozier - This acronym is probably the smartest thing I have experienced in a song's title in a long time: NFWMB is really Nothing Fucks With My Baby, expressed in a classy way, courtesy of the forest prince and love of my life, Andrew Hozier-Byrne. As always, there are several biblical references and apocalyptic death metaphors, which always leaves me feeling very confused and inspired at the same time. The very jazz and blues influenced low key rock song is so different from other love songs that it kind of creates its own category in that sense. It is described by others as "the love song for the end of the world" therefore going back to my feelings of apocalypse, decay and biblical tellings. 12. One In A Million by Hudson Taylor - "You gotta be cruel if you wanna be kind" ok this just hit me way too hard and true. The only way I even discovered this artist is actually because they are opening up for the Hozier concert I am attending tonight and now I am super excited to see them perform as the opening act as well. They remind me of a toned down version of The Kooks in a lot of shared vocals and chord progressions and upbeat instrumentals, except they are a duo hailing from Ireland and they classify themselves a folk band, though the punk/alternative rock influences found in this song are undeniably present. Also present is the message of knowing someone doesn't care about you the way you care about them and needing to be released from that sort of madness... cool. 13. Into The Mystic by Van Morrison - I'm probably not introducing anybody to this song for the first time right now and certainly not the last, but something about the changing of the seasons and the shift of weather from summer to autumn calls out to the mystical and slow dance vibe that this classic and iconic folky rock song inspires. There is absolutely nothing better than the buildup from quiet lull to the horn heavy chorus and interlude that just makes you want to stop and dance wherever you are in your day. Another musical aspect that is highly appreciated by yours truly is the intricate acoustic guitar rift that is taken and shifted into a lot of newer acoustic based songs that we hear all the time these days. The past influences the present and the present is heard in the past all the time, especially in music. 14. Size Of The Moon by Pinegrove - Shifting into a more heavy punk, angst themed style of music is this memory driven song which tells us about a time where the speaker is thinking on the communication issues that occurred in a relationship and how they could have easily been remedied, but there was no effort on the other half's side. From an interpretation of the song, one person smartly said, "It’s really easy to indulge in nostalgia when you’re at a rocky part of a relationship. Suddenly everything appears better than the present, no matter how imperfect those times were." I have to concur with this notion because our perception of the past changes over time and when we miss someone, at times, we look at bad memories and they even start to seem better than being alone... but they are not. 15. Kathleen by Catfish and the Bottlemen - Another song geared towards a relationship not working out the way it's supposed to is from a band that is one of my all time favorites. Their comical British style of lyrics is so appealing to my American way of thinking of things and the heartfelt honesty heard in their songs play along quite nicely with the super power rock style in which they are written. This tune in specifics, is not about the past, but the present and trying to reflect on what is going on in the "now" which is a really complicated thing to try and do, when you are infatuated with someone. The instability is heard not just in the lyrics, but also in the interchanging chords of the electric guitar and the fast paced anxiety ridden drumbeat, which is awesome.. 16. Holland, 1945 by Neutral Milk Hotel - This band is one of the weirdest, coolest ones that only the people who love grating vocals and intense lyrics can truly appreciate to the desired capacity. The whole album, from the 90s, "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" depicts the story of Anne Frank and the tragedies behind what happened to such an innocent person, along with her youthful romance and how it all devolved in such a short time. A lot of fans of this album have also speculated that there is a second layer of meaning between the World War II references, being that is expresses the kind of tension and tragedy that occurs when you lose some so important in your life, and how the mourning of this loss can only be remedied through appreciating this person afterwards. 17. I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You by Black Kids - Okay, so I'm pretty sure that we can all understand the meaning of the song strictly through the title of this song, negating my opinion before on how you should not judge a song based on its title... well in this case, you can absolutely do that. Not only does it have the best dance tune in the world, but it is also so adorable that the singer's only common connection with the girl he is speaking about is their affinity and adeptness with dancing. Although I definitely have "two left feet" as the singer describes the boyfriend having in this song, I relate to this in terms of music. If there is a person who I really care about, the connection I automatically have is usually in a musical sense, and I am greedy about this relation. We all have something we won't teach someone else's boyfriend/girlfriend if we care about them. 18. 123 by Girlpool - I love this so much. It depicts a relationship where the speaker is asking the partner/SO to tell them everything that is wrong with them in a really sarcastic and aggressive way. It's comical and honest and vulnerable all at once which I have to give a hand for because mixing comedy with painful relationships is something that I always attempt in my writing. The song deals with an interpersonal relationship that is simultaneously “toxic and loving" as described from a contributor on Genius Lyrics, which is a website I often refer to on advice and other commentaries on music I really enjoy. The girl rock power that is disseminated with this track is so strong and empowering, for any gender, so please don't hesitate to sing this when you're feeling angsty about someone. 19. Million Years Ago by Adele - I don't think I ever really talk about my deep appreciation for Adele on here, because I try to branch out from popular artists and focus on more under-appreciated and undiscovered types; but I'm making an exception because although she is one of the most iconic voices of the modern generation, this specific song is so underrated in terms of her best songs. It sounds so french/spanish acoustic ballad inspired and makes me feel like I am transported to a black and white film from the 50s with the sadness and depth that it gives me in such a simple way. It ALSO follows along with my theme of the week, which is looking back in order to look forward, because she sings about the troubles of missing things from the past and dealing with the issues of transforming into a different person. 20. Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex - Finally, one of the best mixes of every song I have spoken about previously, is this moody sad love tune by the moodiest, saddest, love bands of the modern generation. There is an unspoken cheesiness of Cigs After Sex songs that for some reason, I am completely enamoured with because I feel like the notion of expressing things in a hyperbolic way has been tossed by the wayside. This group brings back the feeling of needing to tell someone how much they care and not caring about what anyone else thinks, which is important in a world that so often ridicules the ridiculous emotions that love brings about. In particular this song speaks to the feelings of needing to get someone out of a feeling they are trapped in, so to be with them fully, and telling the person they will be there in their lowest and darkest times. 

Hope you enjoyed listening with me, see you next week!

10/11/14/15 and/or any combination of those two kiribaku!!!!!

i continue to love u a truly staggering amount, here’s my attempt at all four

request something? | commissions (still open despite what that old post says) | ao3

The sofa trampolined under Kirishima’s weight as he slammed into the cushions, flinging his arms over Bakugou’s lap.

“What the fuck?” Bakugou slid his textbook over to his other knee with one hand, the other trying to shove Kirishima onto the floor. “What do you want, shitty-hair?”

“Bakugou, dude, you gotta help me.” Kirishima rolled over and stuck his right arm straight into the air, very narrowly missing smashing his palm into Bakugou’s nose. “Does this look infected to you?”

“Does what look infected? There’s nothing–”

“That cut! That cut right there!” Kirishima pointed insistently at the outside of his forearm, eyes wide and pleadingly worried. “It hasn’t healed up yet! I don’t even remember where I got it, it’s been days!” Sure enough, a line a couple shades too bright to be natural scraped up from his wrist.

Bakugou glared down at him for a moment. Then, with a huff through his nose, he leaned in, squinting so hard he definitely couldn’t see. “Well, let me see here,” he said in a distinctly un-Bakugou voice. It was high and nasal, mocking, but Kirishima couldn’t place who he was making fun of. Maybe it was him. “Mhm. Okay, I see. Wow. That’s fucking tragic. I diagnose you with idiocy.”

Kirishima lowered his arms, pouting. “If you’re gonna be rude about my death-wound, you are uninvited to my funeral.”

“Fucking fine, if you’re gonna be a baby about it.” Bakugou snapped the textbook shut and grabbed Kirishima’s wrist, yanking his arm back up. “It looks like just a dumb fucking cut.”

“Wait, wait, don’t touch it!” Kirishima snatched his hand back. “What if it’s contagious and I infect you too! Then we’ll both die!”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me.” Bakugou managed to wriggle himself out from under Kirishima, dropping Kiri’s head onto the vacated spot unceremoniously. He backed up against the arm of the sofa and propped his textbook on his pulled-up knees. “If I did die– and that’s a big fucking if– I’d have only one regret, and it’s not flipping you off more when I had the chance. Speaking of.” Bakugou’s middle finger poked up over the edge like a particularly offensive bookmark.

Kirishima sat up. “But, like, it does look infected, doesn’t it? I should be worried, right?”

“No, you fucking moron, it looks like you nicked yourself with a razor in a feat of pure dumbassery, considering your quirk is literally to be impervious to cuts. Quit obsessing over it and get a damn bandaid.” Bakugou turned the page with a purposeful rustle of finality. “If you were really that fucking concerned you’d have already gone to Recovery Girl.”

“I guess you’re right,” Kirishima sighed.

They sat in silence for several minutes, the quiet gradually getting more uncomfortable.

Finally, Bakugou sighed. “What.”

“I was just thinking.”

“Imagine that.”

“Yeah. But I was just thinking that you’re a good friend.”

“What the fuck,” Bakugou stared a hole in Kirishima’s head, half a snarl twisting his lips.

“Yeah dude,” Kirishima smiled brightly, completely unaware of the temperature rapidly dropping. “You’re a really good friend!”

If Kirishima hadn’t been slightly smitten with Bakugou already, he would’ve missed the tiny downward tilt of his voice when he growled out a “Why?”

“Well, uh,” Kirishima could feel a blush working its way up his neck, so he steadfastly avoided meeting Bakugou’s sharp eyes. “I mean, you know me well enough to know when I’m just overreacting.”

“Probably because you’re bored.” Bakugou muttered, skimming the same sentence over and over without reading it at all.

“Exactly! That’s exactly what I mean. You know me so well. I swear I’ve never told you ‘hey, I get jumpy when I’m bored,’ that’s just a thing you know. That’s a thing only good friends notice.”

“Whatever. Go be bored somewhere else.” Bakugou sank into the sofa, adamantly refusing to stretch his legs out like he normally would, because that would land them right in Kirishima’s lap, and that was just a shade too familiar to keep up his reputation.

“But I like being bored right here!” Kirishima scooted over until his thigh bumped Bakugou’s feet, a teasing grin looming over the top of the textbook he was being ignored for. “Well. I don’t like being bored. But I do like being here.”

“Find something else to occupy your walnut-sized brain, I’m busy.” Bakugou kicked Kirishima’s side at about 7% power, enough to get him to wobble over with an oof, but not enough to keep him there.

“Y’know what I hear is really entertaining?” Bakugou grumbled in response, so Kirishima barreled on. His smile softened, shoulders relaxing, voice tinting dreamy. “Being in love.”

“For the third and final fucking time before I start fucking swinging, what the fuck!”

“Uh, so I’ve heard,” Kirishima said a little too loudly, the blush winning out in the moment of distraction and darting over his face. He put his hands up defensively, just in case Bakugou decided to come at him with the book. “Uraraka says it’s really fun to have a crush!”

“And you listen to Round-Face about that shit?”

“Sure, she’s smart about stuff like that!” Kirishima smiled broadly. Bakugou looked downright murderous; a small chorus of pops ricocheted off his fingers.

“Then go talk to her about it.”

“But you are my very good friend,” Kirishima said liltingly, that teasing grin back with a vengeance. He crossed his arms and leaned atop Bakugou’s knees, taking a small, unanalyzed delight in watching the lightning-fast range of expressions that Bakugou’s fiery face went through. “And you get bored too, don’t you?”

“Back up, or I’m going to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would and will and fuck you. Count of three, shitty-hair.”

“That’s how I know you are my very good friend, you give me a count,” Kirishima laughed. He felt more than heard Bakugou’s breathing stutter, his arms tingling with the contact. “I wanna fall in love. It sounds fun, right?”

“Sounds fucking complicated,” Bakugou growled back, planting one foot against Kirishima’s side again and shoving at 15% power. Kirishima actually slid back a couple inches, losing the balance of Bakugou’s knees.

“Aw, come on.” Kirishima swatted his leg to an annoyed grumble. He tried to forget that his ears were probably turning pink. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“Why are we even fucking having this conversation? It’s a fucking Tuesday before goddamn dinner.” Bakugou snapped the textbook shut and sat up, eyeing Kirishima. “We have homework, and you’re in here being a fucking pest.”

“I’m bored!” Kirishima rubbed his arm absently, chasing the last of the touch-tingles away. “And dinner isn’t for another hour, so we can keep talking about th–”

“Hold the fuck up.” Bakugou’s hand shot out and closed like a vice around Kirishima’s wrist, dragging it up to his face and squinting.

“Oh, uh, we don’t have to do that,” Kirishima’s free hand flailed frantically.

“This,” Bakugou pulled his thumb over the ‘cut’ and scowled, eyes narrowed at the bright smudge, “is magic fucking marker.”

“Oh, really? Thank God, I was freaking out over nothing! Well, time to leave, bye forever!” Kirishima yanked on his own arm, nearly wrenching it out of its socket with nervous strength.

“Kirishima,” Bakugou snarled lowly, face a crimson that rivaled the marker. “What is the fucking meaning of this?”

“Uh.” Kirishima gave up trying to force his blush down, especially when Bakugou couldn’t seem to put a lid on his own. “An excuse to get you to talk?”

“About what, you fucking meddling–”

“Anything, really,” Kirishima said immediately. “You’ve been kinda quiet for a few days, and you never tell anybody what’s going on. I was just trying to see if you were okay, what was happening, if I could, uh, help somehow?”

Bakugou glared at him, but somehow it lacked the usual heat– perhaps because it was already in use lighting their faces varying shades of red. “What makes you think I need your fucking help?”

“I’m not saying you need it, I’m just saying it’s available!” Kirishima wiggled his arm, still trapped in Bakugou’s steel grip. “Uraraka really did say that. She’s observant too, y’know, and you don’t seem to hate her after that fight at the Sports Festival, so I thought if I didn’t know and Kaminari didn’t know then maybe she’d have noticed something, but, I guess if whatever’s got you quiet is more complicated than I thought–”

Bakugou’s voice did that downward tilt again, and Kirishima’s heart skipped a beat.

“Doesn’t fucking have to be,” he muttered.

Kirishima drew an airless breath. “What’s that mean?”

Bakugou held his stare for an endless moment, then flung his hand away. “If you’re gonna keep being annoying and in here, at least get your fucking book and do the damn homework so you don’t flunk the fuck out.”

On pure instinct, Kirishima whined, “But I don’t waaaaant to!”

“Tough shit.”

At least Bakugou was talking again. Not about the warmth slowly making itself known in his chest– not that, not yet– but talk was talk, and that was worth something.

And Kirishima almost, almost understood quadratic formulas by the dinner bell.

On being an activist... an Intactivist

Absolutely everyone who knows me, knows I’m not shy about voicing my opinion, especially on issues I believe passionately about.

If you are a friend of mine on social media, you may have even considered  “unfollowing” me in order to avoid political posts.

I believe I’ve toned it down somewhat over the years because I know not everyone cares to hear my views on every subject. But when it comes to certain issues, I simply can’t stay silent. And actually, I think, in many cases, silence is absolutely worse than speaking out and potentially offending some people. Progress would never be made if we sat silently by while other people’s rights are violated or neglected.

Gender equality. LGBTIQ rights. Black Lives Matter. Refugee rights. Voting access. Women’s access to abortion and reproductive decision-making.  

And, more recently, intactivism. I would say I was an Intactivist (a person against routine infant circumcision, who believes boys are born perfect and that circumcision is an absolutely unnecessary, cosmetic procedure) well before becoming a boy mom – I just didn’t know there even was such a term before.

Whether or not to circumcise Thom was not even a discussion point for us. His daddy is intact (or ‘whole’) like 70-80% of boys and men worldwide, and has never had a single issue. I believe in body autonomy: I did not pierce Ava’s ears – she can decide if and when she gets that done. Likewise, if Thom thinks his penis is ugly down the track, he’s welcome to choose circumcision. #HisBodyHisChoice

I do not believe a healthy, functioning part of a body should be removed. I do not believe circumcision is “cleaner” (boys are just as capable as girls of cleaning their bodies). I do not believe a boy should be cut simply because his father is, to avoid any possibly awkward conversation about why their bodies are different (can you tell me how a child’s body is like that of their adult parent’s body anyway? And also, what a perfect opportunity – one of many on our parenting journey - to discuss difference and acceptance, not to mention the value of education and challenging outdated cultural traditions).

Foreskin has 16 functions and contains more than 16,000 nerve endings. An infants intact penis requires NO special cleaning – you simply wipe it like a finger (the foreskin is fused to the glans until – it depends on the boy – at least age 4, after which a pull back, clean with water, and replace is all that is necessary. Much like a girl’s vagina).  Infections can happen and these can be treated with antibiotics, as any other infection would be (we don’t cut our girls if they have multiple UTIs, why would we cut our boys?) Statistics show that 98% of those boys and men who were kept intact remain that way their whole lives; legitimately medically-necessary circumcision is rare.  Routine Infant Circumcision (RIC) is uncommon in many other industrialized nations - circumcision rates in the UK, Sweden, Finland, Australia, New Zealand, Canada for example are all low and shrinking every year. And it’s completely unheard of in the East. There are even movements within Jewish and Muslim communities to end the practice of RIC.

If I’m brutally honest with you, I believe routine infant circumcision (circumcision that is conducted without any medical reason, without a child’s consent) is genital mutilation and a violation of that child’s human rights. A small number of infants actually DIE during this procedure (the exact number is unclear, but frankly any death is unacceptable given this is not a medically necessary surgery) and complications are commonplace (circumcisions can be ‘too tight’, painful adhesions can form, any remaining foreskin can refuse to the glans needing to then be re-circumcised – and more). The psychological impact on a baby is also not fully understood, but is theorized to impact bonding, breastfeeding and cause emotional trauma. Not to mention the immediate concern that a baby has an open wound in a diaper full of urine and feces (a perfect combination for infection).  I also challenge any parent considering circumcision to watch a video of the procedure. Your tiny newborn, strapped to a table, given (usually, and not always) a sugar-coated finger to suck, clamped and cut in his most vulnerable place. I literally want to vomit and scream at the horror of it.  

So yeah, I have a strong opinion about the topic. But I have tried to avoid posting too much about it because I estimate about 70-80% of the boy moms I know circumcised their boys. And I don’t want to make anyone feel badly for the choices they made – choices I know they made with the best interests of their child in mind.

Every single mother I know well is a fantastic mother.  I do not want to make anyone feel criticized or shamed. I do however want to educate because I want to save future babies.

But I also don’t understand how you can properly research the subject of circumcision, and still choose it for your child, knowing all I’ve stated above. I know a lot of parents don’t even realize they have a choice (because the practice, especially in America, is still fairly common), and I believe many have already made a decision and pick and choose their research to back up that decision.

I’m motivated to write this post today, because a woman I have never met (though who is part of a local parenting group on Facebook) reached out to me today to let me know I’d changed her mind on circumcision after she came across a post I made (looking for intact-friendly pediatricians locally). She has a beautiful 1-year-old boy, who was circumcised, because of cultural traditions. She is now a regret mom and has begun discussing the subject with her husband and wishes she’d had more information before her son was born. She would make a difference choice for her son today.

This truly makes my heart happy. It does work: having difficult conversations really can reach other people. It can change minds. It can save babies.

I hope it saves yours.

Shance Fluff week Day 1 blue / black

“What. the. Quiznack.

They weren’t even on a mission. Hunk was cooking, Pidge Coran and Allura were all asleep after fixing some major problems with the Particle barrier, maybe now it can take more than 3 hits before going down and putting the last two alteans in existence in danger, Haggar gave up her identity as Altean when she betrayed them for the Galra. Keith and Lance were training by running a combative maze back-to-back. Lance was confused by the cargo ship that passed the window.

That confusion only lasted until  keith passed out, Lance could smell the gas and held his breath. Two masked figures walked into the room, Hunk  over the taller ones shoulders and  pidge hung limp on the small figure’s frame.    

Lance got a shot off in the small stranger whom had put Pidge in danger, before he also fell from lack of oxygen . The small one fell revealing the face of Haggar, bleeding out.

“ My son! Help your mother! Do not forsake me, Lotor!” Haggar cried, reaching with her free hand, holding Pidge over her wound.  The tall galra hybrid dropped Hunk and kicked Haggar.

“ Witch! Your mother privilege died the day you left me on Karanax , now you can die here, today. Things might have been different if you were Galra…”  Lotor  grabbed lance and keith, leaving the rest to the sentries.

When everyone woke, they were chained to the floor in Galra main command. Lotor stood before Allura, pulling some kind of liquid into a syringe. Lance saw an opportunity and took it. He grabbed a sentry gun and shot the chains from his friends, all the while tackling  Lotor to the ground.

Lotor snarled at Lance when he realized that the syringe was empty and stuck in his neck. “This was not meant for YOU!”

“Get to the lions! Tell blue I’ll get to her after I wipe the floor with this guy!”, Lance yelled, more to Keith than anyone else. Keith led the team to the hangar where Shiro and Matt had apparently been coordinating an attack through the lions. An attack that Lance had been leading apparently, having the strongest out of all the lion bonds, having reached out with Blue and Black to find Shiro.

Shiro, Matt and Keith all snuck back to the main bridge where a horrible sight unfolded before them, Lance vomiting multiple times, and blood spewing from his mouth. Lotor kicked him again and again while he fought for breath, until he stilled and quieted.

“ It’s funny, the virus I was going to inject into the Altean, only affects Alteans; right now, your response to it, confirms my suspicions. You… Are… Part… Altean… it’s your human side that makes you so weak that it’s only killing you that much faster… It would have infected Allura, then Coran, from there it would evolve and start hunting your fellow paladins before it began killing. Now, you will introduce it to both species, well done my little half-bred carrier… Wait, don’t die yet… you’re missing something,” Lotor chastised Lance as he picked him up by the face” I know what it isss!” Lotor sang in a childish way that made keith and shiro’s stomachs churn. He dug his clawed thumbs into Lance’s cheeks, blood slowly dripping to the floor.

The sight of Lotor laughing as he carved into the blue beauty’s face sealed the deal. Matt was half-way down the bridge before Shiro noticed that he had gone, “ TUCK AND ROLL, BITCH!” Matt screamed as he used his staff to throw Lotor into the lower deck, smirking when he heard him go splat against the metal hull of his ship.

Shiro ran to Lance as he once did cycles ago when he was almost blown to bits. Lance used what little energy he had to drag himself away from shiro, inch by bloody inch.

“ Stay… Awa- … ay, Shii- Hirro. Let… me… di-hiii… here. “ Lance wheezed, pushing Shiro away, to the best of his highly impaired ability. Well push isn’t the right word, more like gingerly touched Shiro’s helmet, before his arm fell to Shiro’s side. Lance’s breathing grew even more faint and laboured.

Keith watched helplessly paralyzed as Blue ripped into the bridge and pitifully roared at her motionless cub before she told Shiro to get out of the way. Blue did something almost unthinkable… she froze Lance… she then lay with her maw open so Matt could drag the Frozen body into a real cryostasis pod somewhere inside of her mechanical body.

Shiro yelled for Keith to get to Red. The two ran to their Lions, both trying to get the image of a practically dead Cuban out of their heads… it was twice as hard for Shiro, he saw every detail: the blood beginning to dry and turn brown crusting his jaw, which hung horrifically slack yet firm, his half lidded glassy red eyes that filled with tears; he didn’t want to go, he wasn’t ready, he still had, no has, he’s going to survive this, he still has too much to learn and see and do… his eyes have seen some of the worst that the universe had to offer, but he still looked for the best in people. God… he’s too young, they’re all too young… none of them have tried alcohol or even their first cigarette… has he even kissed anyone outside of family? They’re all just so young, 19 is too quiznacking  young to carry the weight of the universe on your shoulders if you ask Shiro. “ Let me die here”  he was delirious from the blood loss, he didn’t actually want to die…. But Shiro knew the feeling from his time in the ring, the beg of the weaker defeated opponents, they had been through the wringer so many times that they begged for death…. He spent many sleepless nights questioning the morality of it; was it too cruel to try and save them? Or did killing them make him a monster?

He didn’t want to think about his sins as Lance lay dying. God, why couldn’t it be him? There were plans in place in the likely event that he died. Black was reluctant to let Keith pilot her when Shiro was gone, would Blue ever let anyone in again if anything worse happened to Lance. Lance, his sharpshooter, his friend, his confident, his partner in crime when it came to sleepless nights roaming the halls…

Lance was rushed into a healing pod for the time being, to keep him in cryostasis and to heal as much as it could.

They put Lance next to Haggar; who was apparently Coran’s wife, eons ago, in cryostasis. When her wounds were sufficiently healed Pidge threw her into the airlock for interrogation.

“ Antidote. Now.” Pidge hissed at the Altean witch. Haggar never said a word, she just struggled against her restraints.

“ Start talking or start bleeding, Isasdejo… your druids broke easily, just a couple of shocks from my Bayard and they hummed like baby klanmeurls . They told us everything that they know, but you kept the antidote from them… Coran is so disappointed in you”  Pidge said softly, caressing Haggar’s face, after back handing her cheek. Haggar looked severely distressed and Pidge smiled even as her lips trembled. “ If you don’t start talking soon, I’ll have to switch to some of the less savory methods…. Let’s stick to water techniques, it is Lance, CORAN’S FAVORITE PALADIN, who’s dying of your virus… let’s see, there’s …. The classic waterboarding… even more classic, Chinese drip torture… a tide chamber would work wonderfully. Any thoughts or suggestions sweetheart? “

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Get this crazy girl away from me though, Coran! CORAN! COOORRRRRAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN!” Haggar screamed and shrieked.  Keith high fived Pidge on his way into the room.

“So about that antidote, what do we need to save Lance? “ Keith said in a low gravelly growl.

Haggar hung her head as she explained the potion to Keith who began to write everything down on his hand with a small blade, he wasn’t actually trying to hurt himself,he just didn’t think anything through and he kinda figured that if he carved into himself in front of Haggar she would be less likely to lie to him, “ pure quintessence, liquid scaultrite, the blood of loved ones, tears of those who hate you… and a kiss. You can’t just swig the potion either; he has to have one spoon full at a time, he must swallow every drop of the last before he can have the next dose… he has to drink the whole thing. Someone has to stay with him and keep his temperature up as he’s taking it, he can’t stop until the bottle is finished”

It took a while to collect the ingredients but in about a week it all came together, minus the blood and kiss. There was a thirty minute debate about whether or not they were close enough to give the blood and Haggar was no help, the bickering continued until Lance fell out of the healing chamber screaming and writhing in agony as his ears stretched to about twice their original size and black marks spread from the deep scars on his cheeks. Shiro dug his cybernetic arm under Lance and stuck out his flesh arm, “Coran, we don’t have time to get blood from his family, we’ll have to do,” Shiro hissed after kissing Lance’s temple,” he’s burning up, hunk, go fill the largest bowl you can find with cold water and ice, pidge, there are cloths we can use as compresses in my room, go get those, Keith, Matt, make sure Haggar doesn’t use the chaos to escape, Allura, infuse the potion with quintessence”

Lance began thrashing around like a fish out of water and screamed in Spanish, loud enough for the whole ship to hear, “ LO SIENTO MADRE, NO PUEDO TOCAR LAS ESTRELLAS PARA TI, ESTOY CAYENDO. AYÚDAME MADRE!”

Everyone’s blood made it into the potion and a spoonful was given to Lance, the results were not what they expected by any means…. His fever dropped drastically, but he started gagging, and his hair was starting to turn white at the roots. Shiro couldn’t help but cry as he helplessly shoved spoonful after spoonful of the concoction into Lance.

The 19 year old was a coughing shivering mess, once again trying to squirm away from the 26 year old.

“ C'mon buddy, just a few more spoonfuls, okay? You can do this, please don’t make me.explain to both your mom and Blue why you aren’t coming back…. Tell you what, if you can get better, we’ll go back home to Earth, we’ll see family, have a fiesta, how does that sound?”  Shiro cooed and pleaded with Lance.  Lance opened his mouth a couple more times before he mumbled out a faint,”Salve María llena de gracia, el Señor es contigo, bendita eres entre las mujeres y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre Jesús. Santa madre de Dios ora por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de la muerte amén” After finishing the prayer he managed to find the strength to open his eyes” Por qué … ¿por qué es tan brillante? Está haciendo que me duela la cabeza. Alguien por favor, apague el sol” Hunk  shifted so he blocked most of the light hitting Lance’s face. “ Muchas Gracias, amigo… waiiittt” Lance moaned bleary swiveling his head unsure of his surroundings now that he had finished the bottle of straight up nastiness” Estoy con los vaqueros del espacio” Hunk snickered at the nickname, Kalteneker was somewhere around the castle, they would have to take a picture with her now, dressed up like cowboys, on top of their Paladin Armour.

“You going to be okay, Lance?  Let’s go ahead and put you to bed, we can go home when you wake up…” As Shiro rose from the floor with Lance in his arms Pidge took polaroid after Polaroid.

When Shiro was about to leave Lance all rolled up in blankets like a burrito, Lance reached out and dragged him into his bed with him

“Stay… please… I’m afraid of not waking up again.”  Shiro nodded and cradled his head. Both he and Lance has been strong enough for the whole team for too long.  

When Lance woke up Shiro was snuggled into his chest, listening to his heart beat  with his flesh hand resting on his collar bone,  double checking Lances pulse. Lance kissed the metal arm he was clinging to for dear life. “ Thank you, I thought for a while that the safety I feel around you was the dream, and I was going to wake up alone at any moment”

Matt shoved his head through the door,” yo, lovers! I mean, losers! Wait, no I don't… nevermind… listen, we have to try to explain​ what happened to the Garrison before we can ​go anywhere..”

Before they entered Earth’s atmosphere, Keith tried to take a moment with Lance, “ Hey, if you ever need to talk about, well lineage, I guess..  I’m here for you… if you need to talk”  Lance started to almost panic. “ Keith I get what you are trying to do, I really do. But we come from different backgrounds, you knew for a while that your mom, who you hardly knew, was Galra. Your dad explicitly said that your mom was ‘ simply out of this world’ where else could you take that, especially after finding out that you’re Galra?! I knew every aspect of my family, not one of them has done or said anything remotely Altean… for all I know I could be adopted… all I know for sure now is that my life so far has been a lie. I don’t even know if any of my siblings are my real siblings, or my parents”  Lance fell to his knees and sobbed unconsolably for 20 minutes. He stopped when they landed in the Garrison launch pad.

Once the awkward, “ yes, we fly giant space lions and ended an intergalactic war that’s been going on for the past 10,000 years without you having a clue.” Speech was concluded, there was a brief momentary address to the president, lead by  Lance.” Mr President, we have seen the worst there is in space, I nearly died about three times in the span of a week, and so, I have lost all sense of censorship or formalities and I’ve come to say this to you, right here, right now…. fuck you, you egotistical dickwad” the president hung up the video call, remembering that the whole conversation was televised. Lance dabbed. “ I’ve been wanting to say that ever since he got elected, no sexist racist pig is going to live and not get an earful from me!” , Lance somehow managed to say between giggles and high fiving Pidge.

Eventually ​they made their way to Lance’s home in the pampas, Lance sitting in the backseat, teaching coran and allura the lyrics to don’t cry for me Argentina, grabbing a desert Rose on the way.

“ I’M HOME!” Lance called out. Hunk dragged everyone about six steps back as a swarm of young kids enveloped him. Hunk did a headcount  and  paled, “ shit! They shipped in the extended family! Everybody back!”  then Lance was bombarded with aunts and uncles and sisters and brothers and cousins. The assembly completely blocked the door until his mother walked through the parting crowd.” Mi precioso hijo, qué te han hecho … nunca debiste haber ido a ese maldito lugar, oré por ti todos los días … ¿sentías mis oraciones?”   Hunk fawned over the stocky woman’s words from a distance, Lance teared up when she placed her hands on his face, fingers in his mostly white hair with brown tips, and thumbs over his  scars. “ Sí Mamá, sentí tus oraciones, me salvaron la vida mientras estaba tocando una estrella para ti mamá. Y mira, por todos mis problemas, la estrella me tocó de nuevo. Ja, ja, tengo amigos ahora mama. Conoces a Hunk y Pidge, conoce a Shiro, Keith, Matt, Sam, Cora-”  Lance’s mom interupts his introductions by throwing her arms around Allura and Coran. The real shocker came when she began to shift form.

She had much darker skin, long flowing blue hair, and was incredibly tall.

“ Mum, you were here on Earth this whole time? I thought you died on Altea,  decaphebes ago… wait, you came here to earth and joined a new family, did you ever think about us?”, Allura asked hurt by her eyes which betrayed her, spilling tears she never meant anyone else to see.

“ Oh, darling… I thought about you every day, I had to start this family to keep myself and  Akatanine alive here on Earth, we lived with her human mate and child for a while, until the government came around looking for us. We had to leave them, she was crushed. Then, I met Antonio and he really helped me get over the loss of Altea, and Akatanine’s family and sanity. I never once stopped thinking about you, your father was a fool, prompting fighting between Zarkhan and Dossantos. It cost us all so many dear friends… “ a face appeared in the attic window, the Asian-hispanic woman looked like she had just been woken from a cat nap by all the commotion.  Lance tapped his mother on the shoulder and took Allura by the arm to face her,

“ ¡Espera … quieres decirme que he coqueteado con mi hermanastra! ¿Quién es este Akatanine? Es que Rosita Flora Pequeña? La loca borracha que vive en el ático? ¡Quién salta por la ventana, Dios mío!”  Lance screamed as Rosita jumped out of the window and stuck the superhero landing, turning purple and furry as she ran to embrace Keith. “ You know what, now all the drinking and the crying and the babbling at small purple things makes sense”, Pidge mumbled as Akatanine nuzzled her face into Keith’s  hair. Poor Keith was stunned, the half Galra teen couldn’t move a muscle.

“ Mother used ‘cuddle’. It was effective.”, Shiro snickered.

Lance walked into ​the house with his family and almost screamed again seeing all the prayer candles lit in the living room/ common bedroom. Each candle had either Jesus, Guardian Angels, or the Virgin Mother; as well as Lance’s name and picture taped to them. Shiro smiled when he looked at some of the low, lit candles. The ones his mother had lit all had different baby pictures.

Lance only now got a good look at whom he had thought his mother was. Her long light blue hair reached her back, her skin was about three shades darker than normal, and her arms legs and cheeks were more defined and adorned by dark blue marks, much like his were adorned by black and white marks.” Let’s see, hunk is clearly Yellow’s new Paladin, Green must have chosen  Miss Pidge over there, cuddly over there looks like a red Paladin, tall, strong and posterboy must be the leader here… and my lance doesn’t belong to any of them but Blue… How accurate am I, spot on, right? I was the Blue Paladin first, so I know our ladies fairly well!”, Lance and Allura’s mom elbowed Shiro in the ribs lightly.

“Actually we kinda switched up after Shiro disappeared, I was the Black Paladin for a time and lance piloted Red for me and Allura took Blue on the rare occasion we needed her to form Voltron.”, Keith spoke up from the swarm of Lance’s sisters and occasional brother who were all cuddling him,” It was kind of scary, his bayard went from a gun to a huge battle axe, we had no idea how calculated his every move was until he abandoned that to be the impulsive instinctual Paladin Red needs.” Mama looked like she was about to cry,” That was a mistake, Allura should have taken Red, Blue Takes the most empathetic and strategic Paladin… That’s what kept Lance in America while all of us were deported.. He was a strategic genius.”

“Well he was really brash when we got here, too! He even told off the president on live television. See,” Pidge sat in front of Mama and opened the video

“    Mr President, we have seen the worst there is in space, I nearly died about three times in the span of a week, and so, I have lost all sense of censorship or formalities and I’ve come to say this to you, right here, right now…. fuck you, you egotistical dickwad” the president hung up the video call, remembering that the whole conversation was televised. Lance dabbed.     ‘ mmmm whatchasaaaayy’ played behind Lance’s smile as someone dropped the deal with it shades on his smirking face”  Mama’s hand rose and was promptly filled with a flip-flop from one of Lance’s brothers. “ Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggh, la chancla !!!!!!!!!” Lance yelled as he ran to the far side of the house, the rest of the family, including the Paladins almost died laughing.

Marina; Lance’s older sister, who had perpetually red hair, due to being full Altean, as it was later revealed, felt it was necessary to embarrass her brother further and took a large cardboard box full of junk by the couch, his full length Kerberos Mission™ poster strategically placed so that Shiro’s face encircled with red lipstick was visible to the pilots on the couch.

“Hey, guys, I’m burning Trash,  anything you want to get rid of?”

Lance lunged for the poster, knocking it into Shiro’s hands.” Not that, Space Baby.” Lance deadpanned. Shiro unfurled the long glossy paper, careful to not smudge the lipstick that formed a heart around his face.

“ I forgot that the Garrison made these! Oh God, this is adorable… is it okay if i keep this?”, Shiro asked in between chuckles,” So… lance, ummm, there’s a feminism march going on tomorrow at the capitol building, I was going to… ask… You to uhhh… maybe… iffff yoouu wantedtoo maybe? Hopefully? “, Shiro covered his eyes, he was struggling with one of the easiest things in the world” GOOUTWITHMETOIT,LIKEONADATE! dear god that was a disaster.” there are no words in the room. Shiro, fearless leader, just got so flustered he almost screwed up asking out lance… oh yeah and he just asked out lance! “Sure, why not?” lance chirped nonchalantly, trying to hide the circles his head was running in.

Oh, my God. the whole thing was a glorious disaster. Shiro had  painted white streaks everywhere Lance had black and white streaks.  Lance had his mother and his sister hoisted onto his shoulders, Shiro supported Pidge and Allura as they stood in the palms of his hands, the show off. Everyone in the rally aside from the Paladins and family wore blue shirts, sweaters, binders , and sports bras with the caption “ Fuck you, you egotistical dickwad”  inscribed in black curly letters. Lance wore a black “I’m with the gay space ranger “  crop top showing off every dash of sharp contrast on his skin. Shiro wore a blue, get this, mesh tank… remember the 90’s? Now you do. With “ I kissed a hero”  hand embroidered onto it; Keith suspected Galra arm use.  Pidge wore a “ Kick Ass, Go to Space, Piss People Off Because I’m Aro/Ace” sweatshirt, it’s freezing out here, dammit, Lance. Keith rode piggyback on Hunk, not cuz he’s gay or anything though, no, no ,no, it’s just… his legs are too short, there it’s been said… he wears an unironic “ I want to believe “ shirt. Hunk is wearing a cute red Magic School Bus tank top, that came right out of his closet. Sophia wore a Carrie Fisher tee shirt and Marina wore a “  Don’t Make me overthrow the feudal system that you call government” dress.  Allura wore a dress that Lance had knitted for her all in one night and looked like she could snap a man in half and they would thank her. Coran wore a denim jacket with “space uncle” and a moustache on it’s back. “

“And that is how the most favorable outcome of this situation plays out”, Slav says as he closes the hologram projection of the best possible reality. “ I cuss out the president…”  Lance said with a worrying amount of glee.  “ Dude, you almost die, like three times in the best scenario… that doesn’t phase you?” Keith probes, quite concerned. “ Nah, I almost die every time I walk out of my bedroom… that stopped phasing me after I got blown up… I’ve accepted the fact that not even death wants me… but that asshole deported my family before the Kerberos mission… I’d love to cuss him out! I actually have been plotting with Shiro and Matt so things might work out in our favor if we stick to the script… C'mon buddy, let’s go train so I can be a badass.” Keith wouldn’t tell anyone just how terrified he was… of seeing Shiro in the blue mesh tank again.

The Only One

Summary:  Virgil has a secret that the Light Sides and Thomas are completely unaware of, but the Dark Sides unfortunately aren't. The Dark Sides are spending more and more time in the main area of the Mindscape now that Thomas and the Light Sides are trying to accept them as part of the famILY. What does this mean for Virgil?

From a Tumblr ask! :D

Link to AO3

TW: Blood, unsympathetic Deceit, minor violence, minor injuries, forced undressing, hurt/ comfort, angst with a happy ending, negative thinking, bullying, harassment, gender dysphoria, trans male character, misgendering, knives, no deadnaming but that doesn’t mean they don’t try.

Virgil curled his hands in the thick quilt on his bed. He’d encountered Deceit and Remus of all Sides that day and had hid in his room ever since. He couldn’t even be bothered to replace his shirt; he’d just thrown the tattered remains on the floor and crawled under the covers in shock, trembling with silent tears going down his face.

“Kiddo! Dinner’s ready!”

Virgil swallowed, trying to get past the lump in his throat. “Sorry Pat, I’m not feeling well,” he called back, voice gravelly.

Patton spoke more softly this time. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry to hear that! Do you want me to bring you some soup or water?”

Despite his trauma, he smiled through his tears. He’s too good for me. “No thanks Pat, I think I just want to sleep right now.”

“Okay! Let me know if there’s anything I can do!”

“Will do.”

Virgil heard Patton move away from the door, and he sighed.

I should probably clean up the wounds. Don’t want them to get infected.

Virgil shakily stood and walked over to his bathroom. He winced. This is bad. This has to be one of the worst times. Thin cuts marred his skin where Deceit and Remus had used a knife to cut his shirt off. Thin lines of blood trailed down from each wound. Virgil sighed and went about disinfecting them.

You know they’ve been more active in the main Mindscape, you know they’d see you wearing a binder. Why did you have to be so fucking stupid? You could have just worn your huge hoodie like you used to and it would have been fine. They already beat the shit out of you once you changed your voice in the Subconscious, did you really want another beating that badly?

Virgil bit his lip as a sob forced its way past the lump in his throat and more tears streamed down his face. Soon, he’d expertly cleaned and bandaged his wounds and he started working on cleaning the tear tracks and makeup from his face. He cursed the Dark Sides for knowing to aim for parts of his body that would be covered up by clothes; if he’d been unable to hide the bruises, he wouldn’t have a choice but to tell the Light Sides.

The Light Sides won’t believe you. What, the Dark Sides they’re working on accepting just so happen to be evil transphobes who hurt you? And you’re the only Dark Side who’s not an asshole? Give me a break.

Virgil bit back tears. He was tired of crying over the Dark Sides hurting him. And if he told the Light Sides, they’d start asking questions that he wasn’t ready to answer. It was bad enough that they’d “outed” him as a previous Dark Side, causing their loving, wonderful Host to look at him with disgust.

Virgil shook his head. Thinking about that isn’t helping me calm down. He splashed a bit of water on his face and finished cleaning off his makeup. He curled back up in bed, hissing through his teeth at the new injuries, and resigned himself to a night of restless sleep.

/////

Virgil decided against wearing his new shirt and hoodie, instead opting for his old black ensemble. He felt like crying without a binder, but he also didn’t want to lose another one to Deceit’s knife and he was pretty sure a couple of his ribs were cracked.

Virgil made his way downstairs for breakfast, miserable. He’d put on extra black eyeshadow to hide the bags under his eyes and hopefully to draw attention away from the fact that his eyes were slightly red.

He was shuffling into the kitchen when he froze. Deceit is here, why is he here, why is he here, why is he-

“How are you feeling kiddo?” Patton asked.

Virgil shrugged keeping eye contact with him and resolutely avoiding the other Dark Side. “Fine. Better.”

“That’s good! I thought that we should get to know the Dark Sides better, so I invited them over for breakfast! Although Remus didn’t show up, something about being on a ‘deodorant cleanse’?”

“Yes, Virgil, it’s so important to get to know each other better, don’t you think?” Deceit purred.

“I know you well enough!” Virgil spat back.

“Now Virgil, give him a chance,” Patton said, disapproval coloring his voice.

Deceit looked hurt. “Yes Virgil, why aren’t you giving me a chance? I’m trying here, and you’re just being mean.”

Dammit, Deceit can act well if he tries.

Deceit looked at Virgil with a sick smirk.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at Deceit. “Fuck. You.” and sank back into his room, his stomach cramping from hunger. He curled up on his bed and hugged his pillow, angry tears coming out this time.

I just wanted food! And now Patton thinks I’m an asshole! And the others will too! Fuck!

A few hours later, he couldn’t ignore the nausea anymore and decided to venture downstairs. He walked up to his door and pressed his ear against it, listening for any indication there were Sides walking around. Hearing nothing, he slowly opened his door and looked both direction.

Finally. I need-

“Doom and Gloom!”

Fuck.

Virgil turned his head and looked at Roman. He seemed excited about something or other.

“I have this wonderful new project! For Halloween! You’ll love it Virge!”

Deceit and Remus appeared behind Roman, smirking.

“Virgil? Who’s she, never heard of her,” Deceit sneered.

Roman jumped, but relaxed quickly. Virgil ground his teeth.

“I thought it was Veronica? Or no wait, Vanessa?”

Virgil glared at them. “That’s never been my name,” he growled.

“Oh, my mistake!” Deceit laughed, daintily putting a hand to his chest. He smiled. “Violet.”

“Hahaha! She’s a girl!” Remus shrieked, pointing at Virgil. Roman just looked confused.

Virgil held himself back and closed his eyes. He inhaled, opened his eyes, turned around, and walked downstairs. He heard Patton humming in the kitchen and smiled.

He entered the kitchen and opened the pantry to grab some cereal.

“Hey Virge!”

Virgil smiled at him and sent him a two-finger salute. Patton let him get milk in his cereal and start eating before he spoke up.

“Honey, I think we need to talk about what happened with Deceit this morning.”

Virgil’s stomach nearly revolted. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s no big deal. “Yeah? What about it?”

Patton sighed. “The way you spoke to Deceit… Is there something else going on?” Virgil whipped his head towards the fatherly trait. He’d been expecting admonishment and chastising, a demand to go apologize to Deceit. Instead, Patton’s eyes were full of concern. “I… what?”

Patton tilted his head. “I know you have a longer history with the Dark Sides than we do, and it sounded like there were things that weren’t being said out loud.” At Virgil’s baffled expression, he continued. “You can trust me, sweetie. Is there something going on?”

Virgil stared at his cereal bowl, fighting back tears. He moved the cereal bits around with his spoon.

I can’t lie to Patton, he’s just trying to help.

Virgil decided to tell the truth. “I can’t say. I’m sorry.”

Patton sagged slightly at that. “Is Deceit stopping you?”

Virgil chewed on his lip. “No, it’s my own fucking fault.”

“Do you feel unsafe around us?”

Virgil jumped at the question. “No! I just,” Virgil’s voice choked off. “I can’t say,” he whispered brokenly.

“Oh sweetie, do you want a hug?” Patton asked.

“S-sorry, not right now.” The thought of Patton wrapping his arms around his body, especially without his binder, was too much. “Okay baby, let me know. Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I’m sorry.” And with that Virgil broke. He dropped his spoon in his bowl and put his head in his hands, letting out the sobs he’d been holding in.

“Oh! Virgil, it’s okay! It’ll be okay!”

Virgil just shook his head.

“Would it be okay if I rubbed your back?”

Virgil nodded. He won’t be touching my front, that’s okay.

Patton immediately put a hand on Virgil’s back and began lovingly rubbing it.

“I w-want to s-s-say, but I c-c-can’t!!”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. It’ll be okay,” Patton soothed, confused but beginning to understand that something was going on between the Dark Sides and Virgil and it wasn’t anything good. For now, he focused on calming Virgil down enough so he could eat. Eventually, Virgil’s cries petered out.

Patton kept rubbing small circles into his kiddo’s back. “There you go. Feeling better?”

Virgil nodded and wiped his face on his sleeve. He smiled at Patton shyly. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just freaking out for no reason.”

Patton frowned. “It doesn’t sound like no reason.”

Virgil waved him off. “It’s fine Pat. I’m probably just hungry.”

Patton knew it wasn’t just hunger, but he also knew not to push the issue any more. He grabbed a bowl of cereal for himself and chatted with Virgil, trying to make him feel comfortable again. He was happy that by the end of the meal, Virgil was much more relaxed and didn’t seem like he was about to burst into tears. Virgil cleaned his dishes and and sent Patton a two-finger salute as he sank out. Patton let his face fall once Virgil was out of the kitchen. What is going on with my sweet boy?

/////

The Sides all rose up when Thomas summoned them for the next video. Virgil had his normal hoodie on and zipped up and prayed no one could tell that he wasn’t wearing a binder.

“Hey Virge! You cold?” Thomas asked.

Virgil nodded, Deceit giggling at the lie.

Thomas turned to the camera and started filming.

“What is up everybody?! Today, I’m dealing with an important topic: when to come out.”

Remus giggled. “Like Virgil! She-” Deceit elbowed him, cutting him off.

Thomas frowned in confusion at Remus. “I mean, yeah, he told me he was a Dark Side, and that’s what I wanted to address this video.”

Deceit summoned a bowl of popcorn and crunched loudly, making sure Virgil saw the shit-eating grin on his face. Remus just snacked on deodorant.

Virgil paled and felt cold all over. His heart was pounding and there was a lump in his throat. Thomas turned to him.

“Virgil, I… I just wanted to say that I was surprised, and I still love you. I don’t care that you were a Dark Side before. You’re working with me now, and with the others, and who you are now matters way more than who you thought you had to be in the past.”

Virgil was shocked. He felt tears springing to his eyes. “You… you really mean that?” he whispered, incredulous.

Thomas smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

Virgil sagged in relief and smiled, a single tear running down his cheek.

“That’s totally how I expected that was going to go,” Deceit complained.

Remus just threw his deodorant on the ground in frustration.

Thomas ignored them. “Do you want a hug Virge?”

Before Virgil could panic and make up an excuse, Remus started shrieking with laughter. “She can’t! Then you’ll feel her tits!”

Virgil felt all of the blood leave his body.

Thomas just tilted his head in confusion at Remus. “What?” He looked at Virgil. “Virge? What’s going on?”

Virgil started backing into the wall and hyperventilating, new kinds of tears making their way down his face.

He knows, he knows, he just got over me keeping one big secret from him, this is a coming out video, he’s going to find out, he’s going to hate me, they’re all going to hate me, they’re going to send me back to the Dark Side, he hates me, they hate me…

“Come now Virgil,” Deceit purred. Virgil jumped when he and Remus appeared in front of him on the landing. “Let’s be fully honest with our Host, that’s what he would want, isn’t that right?”

Remus and Deceit grabbed Virgil and started pulling down the zipper. He cried out and thrashed in their hold until they were pulled away. He didn’t notice who helped him, he just collapsed on the landing and curled into a defensive ball in the corner, shaking like a leaf and hyperventilating.

“Virgil? Can you hear me?”

Virgil flinched and whined at the proximity of Logan’s voice.

“I can’t, I don’t want to, please don’t make me, don’t hurt me, please…” he whimpered.

Everyone’s hearts shattered.

Patton came up to the landing and leaned against the steps. “It’s okay sweetie, no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. No one’s going to force you to do anything. Can you try to breathe with me baby?”

Virgil let out another cry but nodded. Patton counted with him, occasionally glancing back at the Dark Sides. Roman had the Dark Sides cornered, sword pointed directly at them, making sure they wouldn’t hurt Virgil. After almost twenty rounds of breathing exercises, Virgil’s muscles began to relax from the cramped position they were in.

Thomas knelt in front of the stairs. “Virge?” he began cautiously. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Virgil’s breath hitched. “I’m sorry Thomas.”

“Buddy, no! You got attacked and got scared.”

Deceit laughed. “That’s not all Thomas! Go on, tell our Host what else you’ve been lying about!”

Thomas frowned at Deceit and looked back at Virgil. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. This… God, this has to be the worst time to be making a coming out video. Are you hurt at all?”

Remus laughed. “Awwwww, is the little girl hurt?”

“SILENCE!!” Roman roared.

Virgil flinched, staring at the Dark Sides with wide eyes.

“Virgil, hey look at me,” Thomas called softly. Virgil turned wide eyes to Thomas, the Host almost breaking at the tears he saw. “It’s okay buddy.”

Remus wasn’t done. “Take off her shirt!!”

Roman took a step towards them. “SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL RUN YOU THROUGH!!”

There must have been something in Roman’s expression, because the jeers stopped.

“Honey-” Patton began. He was cut off with a sharp inhale from Virgil as he laid a hand on the anxious Side’s back. He quickly withdrew his hand.

“I’m sorry baby! Are you hurt?”

Virgil sniffled. “N-not too bad.”

Thomas’ face twisted in anger, and the two Dark Sides sank out. Roman sheathed his sword after a moment and walked over to the stairs, worried about his anxious friend.

Logan spoke up. “Virgil, may I look at your wounds?”

“No!” he yelled, curling up defensively and hugging his hoodie closer to himself.

“I will respect your choices Virgil. However, I believe that it would be in your best interest to allow me to assess your injuries to ensure nothing else is going on and to help prevent infection.”

Virgil shook his head. “They’ve done worse, this is nothing, I’ll be fine.”

“They’ve done this before?!” Roman growled.

Virgil curled in on himself and nodded.

Patton shifted a little closer. “How have they hurt you in the past?”

Virgil’s breath hitched. “Th-they’ve beat the shit out of me when I changed my voice. I u-used to have a higher pitched voice and I didn’t like it. And when I changed how I dressed they beat me up for that too.”

“Oh Virge,” Patton breathed. “Do you know why they did it?”

“B-because…” Dammit, I’ve really got to say it, don’t I? “I-I’m a trans guy.” Once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “The D-Dark Sides h-hated me for it, s-said I w-w-was a girl, but I’m not! I swear I didn’t l-lie to you T-Thomas!! I just, w-with how you’d t-taken the news of me being o-one of them in the p-p-past, I was scared you’d m-m-make me go b-back to them and I c-c-can’t…” Virgil dissolved into tears, unable to form any more sentences.

Thomas jumped forward and hugged Virgil close to him. Virgil curled into his Host and cried.

“God, Virge, I’m so sorry. I’d never hate you for being trans! Whatever I did to make you think that, I’m so sorry. And if they’re hurting you, I’d never want you in that position.”

Thomas held Virgil until his cries petered out.

They deserve to know. “Th-they’d cut off m-my clothes.”

Thomas froze and tightened his arms.

“They what.” Patton said, voice flat with blinding fury.

“Th-they w-wouldn’t go farther th-than that!” Virgil added quickly. “They’d j-j-just cut off m-my clothes t-to try to p-prove I’m a girl. Th-that’s why I’m n-not w-wearing a b-b-binder today. Th-they cut up my l-last one with a knife a-and hurt m-my ribs.”

“Oh baby…”

Logan adjusted his necktie nervously. “I… Virgil, I am so sorry they hurt you. I believe I understand another reason you don’t want me to look at your injuries. May I ask you some questions instead?”

Virgil bit his lip and nodded, still curled against Thomas.

“Does it hurt to breathe?”

Virgil nodded, and Thomas loosened his grip slightly.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is your pain when you breathe?”

“Um, like a 5? It’s not too bad.”

“I am glad to hear that. Are you experiencing any difficulty breathing?”

“Not really, no?”

“Alright. Let me know if you do. Would you consent to stay with one of us for a few nights until we’re certain there aren’t any other ill-effects?”

“Y-you don’t mind?”

Roman frowned and tilted his head. “Why would we mind?”

“...I dunno.”

Logan sighed. “We want to help you Virgil. Please tell us what is bothering you.”

Virgil hid his face in Thomas’ chest, muffling his words. “They s-said I was gross.”

Roman actually snarled while Patton gasped and Logan and Thomas’ faces hardened.

Thomas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them and kissed the top of Virgil’s head as he held the trembling man.

“You’re not gross Virge.”

“Y-you’re just saying that.”

Logan hesitantly placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Virgil, I am not one to mince feelings.” Virgil huffed a laugh at that. “You are objectively not “gross.” Remus and Deceit are wrong.”

Virgil lifted his head and looked at Logan. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Virgil relaxed against Thomas. “Can I… Can I wear my old stuff until my ribs heal? That hoodie’s bigger, it helps with… yeah.”

“Of course you can kiddo!” Patton rushed out. “If it makes you feel better, go for it!”

Virgil frowned and looked at the Light Sides and Thomas suspiciously. “You’re all taking this… really well,” he said slowly. “I’m the only one like this. Not even one of the other Dark Sides is like this. Aren’t you freaked out?”

“Kiddo, no!”

“One’s gender would never make me forsake them!”

“You identify as a man, therefore you are a man.”

Thomas hadn’t spoken yet, and Virgil felt tears in his eyes.

“Virgil, buddy,” Thomas began. “I… I fucked up, didn’t I?” Thomas’ voice grew thick with tears. “I somehow made you think I think less of trans people.” Thomas buried his face in Virgil’s hair to hide his tears. “I-I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way. I promise I’d never think any less of you. You’re still my facet, my Virgil, and this is just one cool thing about you.”

Virgil pressed into Thomas. “I don’t know why I had to manifest this way. There’s no reason for it!”

Thomas rubbed Virgil’s arm. “We may never know why, and that’s okay. We don’t need to in order to accept you and love you.”

Virgil closed his eyes, exhausted. “Thank you, Thomas. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Thomas squeezed Virgil as tightly as he dared. “You were scared.” Thomas smiled before he sung. “It’s okay. We’re your best pals!”

Virgil snorted. “Dork.”

“Damn gay.”

“Don’t you mean- oh, I get it.”

Patton and Thomas giggled.

Roman stepped closer. “Virgil, would you like to stay in my room tonight? The bed’s big enough to fit all of us.”

Virgil looked up at Roman and smiled. “Sure Princey.”

Later that evening, when Virgil is surrounded by the Light Sides, he smiles to himself.

The Light Sides might be clueless morons, but I guess I could get used to this.