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emoboijk · 5 years

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pjm | hydrangeas

“A dead hydrangea is as intricate and lovely as one in bloom.” (Toni Morrison) He’s willing to die for love and for the act of loving. —hanahaki disease!au, non-idol!au, angst, flora & fauna series :: major character death

2,717 words

p.cred

The waiting room is beige with a dark brown carpet, the kind that has either always been that color or is that color as a result of years of use. There are paintings (ironically) of flowers on the walls, and potted plants stationed randomly between the chairs. A receptionist sits behind a counter, typing on a computer and answering the phone when it rings. Aside from her, there are seven people scattered about the room.

Jimin is sitting in a corner of the office, his eyes half-open, holding a handkerchief (your handkerchief, of course) to his face as an endless trail of blood and blue petals fall from his mouth. His lungs ache like nothing else, his throat burns for lack of air, all he can picture is your face. He's practically curled into the fetal position in the chair; a skeleton filled with flowers.

They must have called his name multiple times but Jimin doesn't hear. But now there’s a kind looking nurse bending down in front of him so that he can vaguely see his face in his blurry vision. Oh, he thinks, forgot to put in my contacts. Odd; he hadn’t noticed before now.

“Come on, man,” the nurse says, surprisingly casual as he hooks his arms beneath Jimin’s and pulls him from the chair. His feet feel numb (poor circulation when all your blood is busy drowning your lungs), and he stumbles once he’s upright, leaning against the nurse heavily as he’s all but dragged into a private room.

He sits on the examination table and almost immediately blacks out from being upright for so long. The doctor warned him weeks ago that if the blood loss got too severe that would happen; there's not enough to go around, he thought. But he’s jostled awake two minutes later when the doctor comes in, her stern face hovering above his. She crosses her arms but doesn’t force him to sit up as she begins her lecture, “Jimin, I can’t help you if you refuse to help yourself.”

He doesn’t say anything. Probably couldn’t if he wanted to.

“The anti-growth pills do not work anymore. Your lungs are completely infested. You’re losing blood faster than you can make it.”

Jimin coughs and holds the handkerchief to his mouth, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jean jacket. His fingers look odd, like they’re not his own—thin and skeletal. He can't remember the last time he ate something... He shakes his head, it's hard to focus these days, and types quickly.

Even if I had the surgery now, I would probably die

The doctor purses her lips. She’s been with Jimin from the start, and his apparent lack of self-preservation is infuriating. He loves her, whoever she is, but at what cost?

Jimin types again:

And even if I lived, I would be dead anyway

She reads the words and takes a moment before saying anything, wanting to shake him, wanting him to wake up.

“Then why are you here Jimin?”

Jimin smiles ruefully and types: Old habits die hard. He even cracks a smile at this own joke.

He leaves fifteen minutes later with a prescription for morphine and a lot of it. He’d protested at the amount she was giving him, but he could read the sympathy in her eyes. She’d seen a lot of patients, was intimately aware of how much pain he was in. She was giving him an option, at the risk of her license and her practice. Also, probably, because she knew he wouldn’t take them. One or two to help, but not enough to kill himself. She knew his character. He felt noble, dying for love. He’d taken it this far, and to experience any less than the slow death of one-sided love...it wouldn’t be right.

She also gives him a cane, one of the metallic ones with tennis balls on the end. He had scoffed at it, splattering blood on it, to which the doctor had said, “Now you absolutely have to take it. That’s disgusting.” Jimin had almost chuckled at that.

And now that he has it, it is undeniably necessary. He leans against it heavily, holding the handkerchief and the crumpled prescription in his hand as he turns the corner to the pharmacy. As he stumbles through the doors, his phone starts to ring, your face appearing on the screen.

His chest hurts at the sight, and it’s been so long (six months almost?) that he’s not sure if the pain in his chest is from a new bloom or from his heartbreak. Either way, it’s incredibly painful, and he presses ignore immediately.

Jimin recognizes the pharmacist behind the counter, and the man frowns when he reads the prescription. He doesn’t have to say the words for Jimin to hear him, or to read them in his eyes, “So you’ve given up,” they say. Jimin can only nod.

And is it really giving up? He has to wonder. In many ways, having the surgery would’ve been giving up. Sacrificing love for a breath...while easier, would have been giving up. No, this wasn’t that. This was strength and resilience and courage. The realization that some things are worth dying for; some things are worth dying slowly for.

At least, that’s what he told himself when he was trying to sleep at night, waking every few hours to vomit into a bin.

He runs a hand through his hair and tries to remember the last full night’s sleep he got. And you know, he really can’t.

“Back in a sec,” the pharmacist says and Jimin stumbles over to the bench nearby, pulling the handkerchief from his pocket and covering his mouth as he coughs again. Walking and talking; both really take it out of him. He fights the urge to lay down, already feeling his head spinning; instead, he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, focusing on the shallow breaths he can take. They just have to last him until he gets back to his apartment, then a blackout would be almost welcome. He's exhausted.

His phone begins to buzz in his pocket again and he is unsurprised to see your name. It does make him smile, that you seem to miss him, but even reading your name brings fresh buds blooming in his lungs. Unrequited love at a distance. What a curse. He hits ignore.

Jimin falls asleep waiting for the medicine so that when it’s ready the pharmacist has to come out and shake him awake. He approaches the counter again and pays, wondering how much he resembles a homeless man at this point. He’s wearing the last of his clothes (when he realized that, he thought morbidly, I better die soon because I can’t do laundry anymore ) and he can’t stand up long enough to take a shower.

As he walks back through the store his phone rings again. Ignore.

You call three more times by the time he gets home. You call so much that he just turns his phone off. It’s not like he has a job anymore, or the doctor can give him any more news. He’s told all of his other friends about the disease, they know if he needs to talk he’ll reach out first.

You’re the only one.

He’s not sure why he didn’t tell you. Well, that’s a lie. If he told you about the disease, you would have pressured him into telling him who he was in love with. And he didn’t want to do that to you. He didn’t want to force you into feeling something you may not truly feel. It had to be in your own time, if at all.

Of course, if he’d explained any of this reasoning to you, you would have called him an idiot. He falls onto his couch with his eyes closed, picturing your face as you scold him, “If you don’t say anything, nothing can happen!” That’s what you would’ve said.

He can’t bring himself to open his eyes now that he’s conjured your image in his mind, so he lets himself succumb to sleep, pulling a garbage can/vomit bucket closer to the edge of the couch and drifting off. His dreams are all dead hydrangeas, beautiful and wilting, and you; of course, all his dreams are morbid now ("Flora chemical effects on the brain..." the doctor had said).

Jimin wakes up an hour later to a loud banging on the door. It startles him awake, and he’s glad because his mouth is full of blood and soggy petals. He curls into his side and aims for the trash can, spitting out irony blood painfully. He ignores the knocking; people usually give up and go away.

But when he hears your voice, he knows he’s done for.

“I know you’re in there!” you call, pounding your fist on the door again, “Open up Jimin!” You raise your fist again to take out your anger and frustration on the sturdy door, but you pause when it creaks open. He still has the security chain in place, so it barely opens enough for you to see his face, but what you do see startles you.

Gone is the golden, happy boy you’d known forever. He’s pale and thin, you can see his cheekbones like their cutting through his skin. And his lips are chapped and stained red, there’s a blue petal stuck to his collar. And his eyes…desperate and lonely and huge amongst the now sharp angles of his face.

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” you whisper, your voice soft as if speaking too loud might break him.

“Just leave me alone,” Jimin whispers, averting his gaze. His voice is hoarse and choked, like he’s speaking around something. He doesn’t mean the words, that much is clear. But then...why bother saying them at all?

“Jimin,” you whisper softly, “What’s going on? Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Leave,” he whispers, moving to close the door, but you stick your foot between it and the frame to keep it open.

“Let me in, right now, Park Jimin or I will call the firefighters or the cops or the next strong person I see and have them break the door down,” you demand fiercely.

Jimin chuckles despite himself, frowning again when he realizes that he’s going to relent like he always does. He nods and whispers, “Okay, okay, but you have to move your foot.” You glare at him, but do it and Jimin closes the door. He pauses before undoing the security chain—that was the most speaking he’d done in nearly a month. It was incredibly painful and he coughs harshly to dislodge the petals it roused; it leaves a dripping, abstract art piece on the back of the door.

You start to worry that he won’t open it again, listening to his coughing. You hadn’t even known he was sick. Why hadn’t you known? Your ignorance feels like a betrayal; him against you or you against him, you're not sure.

He coughs for another moment before undoing the chain and opening the door fully so that you can step inside. He turns away and walks further into his apartment, not wanting to see your face as you take in the state it’s in.

And you are surprised, frozen in the entryway. You can see the whole apartment from here and it’s...nightmarish. He had always been messy, but this was different—dirty dishes and clothes, dust and garbage. It must’ve been weeks since he’d done any chores at all. And as worrying as that is, it’s not what grabs your attention. No, the only thing that really registers is the blood. On the walls and the floor, the hundreds of bloody tissues littering every surface. And the petals, soft blue and delicate, everywhere.

Your mind is already grasping at an idea, but you can’t get it to fully form, so instead, you whisper, “Why does it look like a florist was murdered in here?”

He chuckles despite himself, three or four petals falling from his mouth, one sticking to his face with blood. He wipes it away with his hand and feels his head getting dizzy, so he sits down instead of responding. He really shouldn’t be talking anymore.

When you’re finally able to take your eyes off the apartment, you look at him wide-eyed, “Jimin.”

He tries to say something with his eyes, but he’s not sure what; he’s not sure how he would explain it even if he could say more than ten words without choking. But something seems to click because you finally say, “Do you have Hanahaki disease?”

His eyes are sad and you know you’re right. He reaches for a pad of paper on the coffee table and scribbles messily across it, when he turns it to face you, you do your best to focus on the words and not the bloodstains.

Six months now

Blue hydrangeas, they stand for rejection

Can’t talk anymore - painful

When you look back up at him, he’s chuckling. You know if he could speak he’d point out the irony. A disease born of rejection giving rise to a symbol of it as well. A double dose then.

“ Six months,” you gasp, stumbling backward into a chair, “Why didn’t you...I could’ve…”

He shakes his head to cut you off, but he doesn’t make a move to write anything more. You’re still in shock. Six months. Six months he’s been choking on hydrangea petals and blood and unreciprocated love.

“Who is it?” you demand, “Have you said anything?” You’re angry, at whoever he loves and at him. Why not get the surgery? Why not save himself? Doesn’t he know how important he is?

He just shakes his head and he seems resolute in his decision; it infuriates you. How can he be so apathetic to his own fate?

“Well,” you sputter, stamping your foot like you used to when you were young (Jimin smiles at the action), “what about the surgery, huh?”

This time when he looks at you his eyes are so serious they're like knives, he shakes his head. Absolutely not, you hear him in your head. You stamp your foot again, “You have to do something Jimin! You can’t just…” You cross the room to sit next to him on the couch, taking his hands in your own. Immediately, he feels flowers bloom in his chest and as much as it pains him, he pulls his hands away and readjusts his position on the couch.

You're surprised by how much that hurts, but press on anyway, “It’s not worth it, Jimin. Whoever it is...they’re not worth your life.”

Jimin watches you seriously for a moment before reaching for his pad of paper again, he scribbles on it quickly. Just as he puts the pen down, he coughs loudly, blood spraying the page, soft blue hydrangea petals sticking to the corners. He looks at you, genuine fear in his eyes as he coughs again.

“Jimin?” you gasp, reaching forward and holding his arm, but his eyes have already lost their light. Blood trails past his lips and down his chin, staining the perfect white shirt he was wearing as he falls backward onto the couch. “Jimin!” you scream.

The pad of paper drops from his lifeless hands and the words on the page break your heart.

You’re worth it.

author’s note—look i cried writing it so no shame if you cry reading it

for more of my works check out my m.list

#rosynamjoon #bts #bangtanbuds #bts x reader #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #hanahaki disease au #angst

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niktizzy · 5 years

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*~feeling nostalgic for myspace surveys~*

1) Sexuality?

Straight

2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

This is probably a lame answer but, I think Gronk would be cool to hang with

3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

So this is embarrassing, I don’t have any books upstairs yet

4) What do you think about most?

Work, money, why do people make noise when their running away from a killer in a horror movie or run upstairs

5) What does your latest text message from someone else say?

“Aye can you order me 2 chicken tacos “

6) Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

Depends on my mood and what season it is lol

7) What’s your strangest talent?

I have a rather good green thumb

8) Girls…. (finish the sentence); Boys…. (finish the sentence)

Girls are beautiful

Boys are back in town

9) Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Not that I know of

10) When is the last time you played the air guitar?

Probably a year or so, I really want to dive back into it though

11) Do you have any strange phobias?

I just like to have things clean and not cluttered but my car and room are a bit messy lol

12) Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

I have a hoop in my nose

13) What’s your religion?

I guess like a Christian? Idk, I have my own beliefs

14) If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Working

15) Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind it 100%

16) Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Oof, at the moment, either Belmont or Trash Boat. All time has to be either Neck Deep or Blink

17) What was the last lie you told?

I’m fine

18) Do you believe in karma?

A B S O L U T L E Y

19) What does your URL mean?

Nothing really, just my screen name, which is my wanna be rap name lol

20) What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

Very trusting is my weakness. My greatest strength is honestly keeping up walls and head strong

21) Who is your celebrity crush?

Michael B. Jordan

22) Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

Lol a lonnnnng time ago

23) How do you vent your anger?

I usually just bottle it up or I talk to my dad

24) Do you have a collection of anything?

I use to collect snow globs but now I seem to just collect house stuff lol. I want to start collecting dvds or like plants? Idk lol

25) Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

I love talking on the phone tbh

26) Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

So far, yes. I am proud of the person I have become but I’m still growing

27) What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

VELCRO I HATE THAT SOUND. Waves crashing and thunderstorms are my go to sounds

28) What’s your biggest “what if”?

What if I never went to college and just got experience

29) Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

Spirits and yes, absolutely

30) Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

My coffee and nothing I’m on my couch haha

31) Smell the air. What do you smell?

This amazing candle from yankee candle

32) What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

Toledo lol nah but really

33) Choose East Coast or West Coast?

West Coast

34) Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

Thousand Below’s singer is hot af

35) To you, what is the meaning of life?

I have a multiple of ideals, we are born to die is one. The other is to go through life and learning and developing different ways to survive so in the next life, you have a better transition. But again, who knows

36) Define Art.

Something you feel

37) Do you believe in luck?

Yes

38) What’s the weather like right now?

FREEZING COLD

39) What time is it?

12:40pm

40) Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

I do, when I was like 17. I was going 5mph, women ran a red light, boom

41) What was the last book you read?

The Amityville Horror

42) Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Love it

43) Do you have any nicknames?

Nik

44) What was the last movie you saw?

Halloweentown

45) What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

Any of my broken bones lol

46) Have you ever caught a butterfly?

Not really

47) Do you have any obsessions right now?

Finding horror movie posters lol

48) What’s your sexual orientation?

Heterosexual

49) Ever had a rumor spread about you?

Oh yeah lol

50) Do you believe in magic?

I honestly do

51) Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

Sadly I do

52) What is your astrological sign?

Libra

53) Do you save money or spend it?

Save it, I only go to work and pay bills and get food

54) What’s the last thing you purchased?

Groceries

55) Love or lust?

We are all hoping for love and we usually get lust lol

56) In a relationship?

Nah

57) How many relationships have you had?

Real ones? A handful

58) Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

Nope lol

59) Where were you yesterday?

I was at work all day

60) Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Nope

61) Are you wearing socks right now?

62) What’s your favorite animal?

The hammer head shark

63) What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

I tried flirting, but I think just being relatable or being myself

64) Where is your best friend?

Lauren

65) Spit or swallow?(;

Neither

66) What is your heritage?

Native American and Irish

67) What were you doing last night at 12 AM?

Sleeping, I was OUT

68) What do you think is Satan’s last name?

I feel like he doesn’t have one, it’s kind of like Cher

69) Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

No one else is going to do it lol

70) Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

I mean yeah, I think I’m pretty cool

71) You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

Grab the dog and take him to work with me, it’s like a doctors slip but you know, it’s a dog

72) You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) I wouldn’t tell anyone

b) I would continue living but spend more time with people that matter and just make sure everything and everyone is taken care of

73) You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

Love

74) What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Gold Steps- Neck Deep or Faithfully- Journey

75) What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

****

76) In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

What makes things work is having similar interest. Most of my relationships were just awful because they were either wayyy into left field with my interest or didn’t even have the same ones all together. I think you need to be each others best friends, be able to be comfortable with each others company

77) How can I win your heart?

Tacos, beer, horror movies, sports

78) Can insanity bring on more creativity?

All signs point to yes

79) What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

Putting myself before anyone else

80) What size shoes do you wear?

Depends on the shoe, most of the time 9.5

81) What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

Believe with UFO’s on it

82) What is your favorite word?

Cowabunga

83) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

A bloody mess that keeps you alive in your chest cavity

84) What is a saying you say a lot?

Honestly, literally, fook, fuck, dude

85) What’s the last song you listened to?

I was listening to this playlist https://open.spotify.com/user/spotify/playlist/37i9dQZF1DX3MU5XUozve7?si=SS24TA9sTG6L5bFZ8W_feQ

86) Basic question; what’s your favorite color/colors?

If you look in my closet it’s mostly black, gray, and maroon. I’m trying to like mustard but eh

87) What is your current desktop picture?

Desert

88) If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Someone from my past

89) What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

Why do you were a mask every time you step out of your house?

90) One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Keep the light on because it’s obviously a full moon and they live from the moon light and try to find an exit quietly

91) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Jumper aka teleportation

92) You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Warped tour 2011

93) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

No comment

94) You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

OOOOF probably Winston McCall

95) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Australia

96) Do you have any relatives in jail?

Not that I know of

97) Have you ever thrown up in the car?

Not that I remember

98) Ever been on a plane?

Yes only 2 times

99) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

STOP GIVING A FUCK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE, MIND YA BUSINESS AND GRIND

#myspace survey #survey #truths

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dramaplustautology · 6 years

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Samesies

I love Aco and Solan!! I’m like the old person asking them “Hey, dude. What’s going on?” “Teenage Rebellion.” “Hell yeah, stick it to the old people.”

And I’m at a block for writing other things so I did another scenario to freshen up and also have my OC interact with Ryunn’s in a sort of non-canon/AU way? Anyways, Tariche is a doctor that works for the Thorn and the twins visit him.

I’ll have a bio later, probably. (note that ryunn doesn’t have a bio up so this is just my....omg my fanon of them? nice).

3K Words. Book 3

Examining the newly fastened cast on her broken arm, Aco took her attention back to the doctor and his trailing coat.

“What’s that?” She asked him.

“This?” He finished the scribble on the cast. “So many of you come in here broken and squished, I can’t keep track of who has to keep their casts on for how long. And I hate paper work,” The doctor wiggled in his chair, excited over his drawing. “Instead, you all get pictures that I can remember you by. Look, this is you, me, and Solan. All the little hearts around us mean that we’re in love.”

Aco grabbed the doctor’s marker and drew Xs over his doodle version’s eyes.

He gasped, pushing his rolling chair away from Aco with his hands covering his heart.

“Now it’s a doodle of you both thinking how dead cute my corpse looks!” The doctor tsked, wiggling his finger at her. “Naughty children!”

Grabbing his hand, Aco twisted it and pointed at the lapel of his oversized white coat.

“Tariche, I was asking about what this was.”

The Doctor looked down at the crooked name tag Aco was jangling with his own finger.

“Didn’t you know? Tariche is short for Gregor McScully,” Tariche ballooned a cheek and shrugged. “The trendy way of shortening it at least.”

“Is it still cool when all of your fingers are broken?” Aco’s lips twisted into a wicked smile, about to flatten Tariche’s fingers against the back of his hand.

The Doctor leaned forward, placing his chin on his trapped palm, neither pained nor annoyed.

“You tell me, bloodbag. You and your brother still want my poison?” Tariche mirrored Aco’s expression to an impossibly sharp degree. The only difference between them was black to blond and midnight purple to starry golden vista.

That was suspicious.

“Pfft,” Aco made a satisfied noise. She hated having to ask for things, even after all these years of only demands. "This why you always stand to Solan’s right?”

“Nah, he got wise a long time ago. I just do it to keep him on edge.” Tariche slid his chair away and yelped when Solan caught him from behind.

“Your roots are showing,” Solan smirked, spinning the Doctor’s chair and kicking it towards his twin as the ‘blond’ tousled his course hair. “That trendy too?”

If for only a moment, Solan took some gratification from catching their Doctor off guard. The shorty was a lot like his office; filled to the brim with tools and texts too complicated for plebs to understand, stinking with flowery perfume to mask the sterile bitter smell of disinfectant.

Good thing there were two of them, one to distract and the other to take a stab.

“Did you know Gregor?” Tariche asked, having already collected himself by the time his chair reached Aco. He pressed a small case, not unlike a container for spectacles, to Aco’s lap.

“We picked him up from the weenie factory,” Code for blackmailing him into leaving the Rose’s main base of operations to work for the Thorn. Solan went to his sister’s side and the two shared a high five over Tariche’s head. “He used to squeal when I flapped my eyepatch at him.”

Trying to do the same at Tariche got the Doctor to leap up and attempt to stick his finger into the slit. Slapping his eyepatch back on, Solan just about chomped Tariche’s finger off.

“You must be happy then, no more Gregor to bore you and all of Tariche to—“He took a small vial out of his coat, shaking the clear pills inside. “—Help you leave an impression,” The vial disappeared into his sleeve and he stretched out his arm. “For a fair exchange.”

The twins didn’t need to share a glance to sync up.

“How about you trade those for our threats?” Aco leaned her chair on the door leading outside, about to cross her arms behind her head. The cast cracked and she pretended not to notice, letting it rest and using her good arm as a pillow.

“Hey, Theano? Did you know your kids can’t flex on those poor innocent spindly elves without speed and strength boosters?” He pulled his gloves off with his teeth, spitting them into the trash can by Solan’s boots. “Magic boosters?”

That trash can was sent flying over Tariche’s head, courtesy of Solan stopping himself short of tackling him to the floor.

“You told us they were regular pills.” Aco stood, getting up to circle Tariche’s chair like a lion closing in on a light meal. The Doctor could hear the leather of her gloves stretching from the strain of keeping her hands to herself.

And the Doctor knew why. Aco knew herself, of course. And Tariche always knew the hard facts others grappled with.

“Regular for Lore,” Tariche clarified, tilting his head to the side. “Magic isn’t dead yet. Not that you need magic to dunk my head into an incinerator.”

Suddenly, Solan was right up against Tariche, hauling him out of his spinny chair and smashing him into the wall.

“I could do that without arms.” Solan growled and it sounded like a promise.

“How long would that take? A few hours?” Tariche’s eyes sparkled with literal stars, about to make his pitch. “With a little boost, you could do that in a minute with five inches of dental floss. Wouldn’t that make your murder pageant dad proud?”

Solan thrust the Doctor at the wall, smacking his head for insulting their Commander. All it did was make the stars flash wild.

“You’re not human,” Aco leaned into the exchange, grasping Solan’s shoulder, advising caution with a mere touch. “Typical magic types. You can’t hide your flashy bits even under pain of death.”

“Me? Afraid of my partners in crime? But I trust you so much!”

Trusted them to want his handiwork; that much and more Tariche knew.

The twins glowered, stepping away to let Tariche slide down the wall and back on his feet.

“What’s this then?” Aco asked, raising the rectangular box Tariche had given her.

“How you’re going to pay me this time.” Tariche dusted himself off and made sure to squish between the twins to get by them. He appreciated how hard they made it for him, refusing to budge.

He made it to his desk and pulled open a drawer filled to the brim with glass flasks. The multicolored potions sloshed and he roughly fished through the fragile ware for a particularly bubbly blue one. Swishing the contents around once to get the concoction mostly homogenous, Tariche popped the cork and drowned the drink.

“There’s a syringe inside the box,” Tariche gestured at the container. “That’s the antidote.”

Blinking at him, the twins struggled to understand what the Doctor had done.

“Did you poison yourself?” Solan gaped at the emptied flask.

“This is a new invention of mine. I came up with it all by myself!” Tariche explained, starry eyed again. His audience was captive after all. “It’s strawberry flavored this time but you can slip it into enemy supplies without notice. That’s whole communities if you hit an important well,” He winked and the twins could hear the literal twinkling sound his eyelid made. “There’s some time between ingestion and visible effects that I haven’t figured out yet but it should keep the fair and magic folk alive long enough to find out we have the antidote.”

And that they had to turn themselves into the Rose if they wanted to stay alive.

“Not sure why you want me to give you the antidote but I’d be happy to stab you.” Aco tossed the box and fiddled with the cathartically long needle. Tapping the bubbles out of the barrel on the corner of the cabinet, she playfully aimed it at the most tender part of the good Doctor. It was a hard decision considering how the Doctor was tender everywhere but his heart.

“How nasty are the symptoms?” Solan asked, scratching his chin as he looked Tariche up and down uncomfortably close. He could see the Doctor’s black roots. It seemed that the twins and Tariche shared the same shade of hair. Gross.

“My orifices are going to burn and squirt blood. All that horror stuff to really scare us clean and pretty magic folks, as far as I know,” Tariche tugged on the corner of his eyes to check if it was leaking. His heart was racing from the rush of not knowing for sure. “Luckily, I’m a masochist. You have to be if you want to enjoy getting into medicine.”

Past that, Tariche had nothing to say.

He usually did whenever he had one or both of the twins strapped to a cot, at the mercy of his unending stream of difficult nonsense.

Oddly, neither of the twins were comfortable with the utter quiet. Maybe it was how the Doctor just stared straight ahead, staring at nothing like it was everything on the page of a novel. They could see his pupils vibrate under those weird fairy sparkles.

“And you’re fine with siding against your own people?” Solan asked, orbiting around him with curiosity. Was one of the symptoms making his teeth heavy?

Rolling his head back on the chair’s backrest, Tariche considered the question.

“I don’t know them. Who cares?” He sighed, lingering on the words left hanging in the air. “If you’re wondering if I’m angry at ‘magic’ in general. No, I’m like you.”

“No.” Aco said.

“Please, no.” Solan shook his head at the same time.

“I don’t need to know everything to see that I see the same face in the mirror that you see on each other,” Tariche steepled his fingers on his belly, tapping them as he began to become impatient for the physical pains. “I love not knowing. It makes new books amazing even when they turn out to be puerile garbage. The only thing I don’t know for sure is my mom and dad issues.”

“How did you—“

“Dang, was it the mom or the dad?”

Instantly, the twins clammed up, wondering if Tariche had spoken up to save them from giving up too much.

“Anyways, my mom was the magic one, which is the simplest way of putting it,” He chewed on his cheek, wondering if it was a nervous tick or a reaction. “I didn’t find out about it until we met for the first time after I hit my teens.”

He looked like he was still in his teens, if not younger than Aco and Solan. Then again, both knew what it was like to grow old in the middle of childhood.

“She asked me if I had a lot of people, and I could have if I tried. Didn’t tell her that though,” He kept chewing on his cheek, close to drawing blood. “Mom said that it was good. If she stayed with me, I wouldn’t have anyone and my life would be lonely. Worse, she told me her life would have been better. Full.” Red began leaking from his mouth. “We didn’t know that for sure.”

Stock still, Solan glanced at Aco and watched her slowly stand with the syringe at ready.

Then, Tariche got up too. He had gone from waaaaaay out there to squared shoulders, standing at attention.

“Commander Theano, what brings you here?” Tariche asked.

The twins span around, finding the door still closed.

“I hate needles!” Tariche cried, taking advantage of their confusion to sprint past them and out of the quarantine office.

The Thorn were going to go from having one bad medic to having no medic.

“Crap!” Aco and Solan jumped into action, tearing through the door and past the rows of occupied beds. A gnome strapped to one of the cots struggled in their restrains and Solan pulled the blanket over the head to shut them up.

There were at least four rows of beds for Tariche to hide under until he croaked. He wasn’t going to crawl out easy if he was more afraid of needles than he was death.

Oh but the Doctor loved to blab.

“You weren’t finished,” Aco kept her voice steady, at conversation volume as she padded past the beds. There was enough light to see the Doctor’s prone silhouette. “What does joining us have anything to do with fixing your mommy issues?”

“I’ve read the history books. I know what kind of trouble she got up to. It took long for her to get it together but the effort was admirable. Her taste in lovers? Disagreeable.”

Aco heard his nonsense and pinpointed the cot he was hiding under, tugging off the blankets to find no one but a very upset elf.

“Quit crying!” Aco shushed the prisoner, catching sight of a few drops of blood across her way. She locked stares with Solan in the other aisle, nodding in the direction of the gory trail.

“Trust me,” Tariche couldn’t stop himself from speaking up. “I know what I’m doing. There’s nothing to be afraid of when it comes to your precious Commander either.”

“If he catches you, I’ll be happy to skin you myself,” Solan goaded him, closing in on the Doctor. “Blackmail or not, he knows who’s in his corner.”

“Theano doesn’t care about loyalty. In fact, the scariest part of this entire situation is how he wants—“Tariche was wracked by a violent cough. The twins weren’t sure if it was because of the poison or if the Doctor was faking because he had no idea. “Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t me but I was caught before and now, I live again.”

‘The poison’s going to his brain,’ Solan mouthed to Aco. ‘Can’t we let him stay like this for a bit longer?’

The curtain hiding the bed directly beside Solan swung open.

“But this time, I know how to throat punch you.” Tariche got the jump on Solan but the boy’s gut instinct lead his eyes to the angle of the Doctor’s arm.

Seeing it coming from miles away, Solan raised his hands to shield his neck and allowed Tariche to imbed his fist on his rock hard stomach.

“Need a medic?” Solan grinned as Tariche cringed from the blunt force trauma he afflicted on himself.

“Right here!” Aco jumped behind the Doctor and stabbed the needle into his neck.

Wailing like a murdered ghost, Tariche was too shocked to move before Aco pushed the plunger down, injecting the antidote into, miraculously, the right spot for it to act quick.

If it weren’t for the twins catching his arms, Tariche would have broken his nose to top this entire humiliating spree off.

“Look!” The doctor flailed, still disoriented from the effects of that messily cooked poison. “I can fight now! I used to only know how but I can actually do it with my own hands!”

By all means, Aco and Solan were allowed to sneer at the disgusting display. But, if only for a moment, some form of impossible fondness.

“Same.” They whispered together.

All of a sudden, Tariche lifted his head.

“Your friendship means a lot to me.” He said before his head lolled to the side.

And the twins were about to drop the Doctor on his face when they heard the footfalls of boots they had come to memorize. The Commander wasn’t going to happy with the only Doctor on site, who was definitely not Gregor, going out of his mind on bad blue soda.

“I know who that is!” Tariche turned his chin up, almost as furious as the Commander was going to be. “I read the obituaries!”

Each of them slapping a hand over Tariche’s mouth, they thought fast and not hard.

Having heard the Doctor’s shriek, Theano entered his wing to see if a prisoner had escaped. Smartly, he left the trailing Thorn members outside the room to find Solan in the nearest bed with an extremely bloated stomach under his blanket.

“Aw man, I ate so much,” Solan complained, rubbing his writhing belly. “Why, good morning, Commander Theano. The eggs were bad today.”

His belly tried to yell, barely held back by Aco restraining him under the sheets.

“Remove that blanket,” Theano ordered, patience thinner than the starving mage strapped to the other bed. “Now.”

“It smells pretty bad, just saying.” Solan lied, sweating bullets as his Commander’s frown deepened.

“Remove. The Blanket.” Theano wouldn’t repeat himself.

“You know what’s also bad?” Tariche managed to yank Aco’s hand off of his mouth a little late to the right cue. “You at oral exams!”

In the space of a fraction of a second, Theano’s face when through all hues of shock, realization, rage, and steeled stoicism.

“I don’t understand what that means.” Solan admitted, more interested in his Commander’s actions than at Aco’s one armed wrestling match with Tariche happening right next to him.

Theano breathed in, then out.

“You have ten seconds to come back to reality.”

Solan stole a peek under the blanket, betting a face full of blood vomit.

“We need ten hours.”

The Commander had already slammed the door shut.

#Tariche (S)#Solan (S)#Aco (S)

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xofanfics · 7 years

Text

Cold - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2

Genre: angst

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: *REQUESTED* You’re engaged but you’ve never felt so alone.

Four years later…

“Mommy, help!”

You rushed to your son’s side, nearly tripping over one of his toys. With a sigh, you bent down to pick up the toy. “Jaemin, I thought we were supposed to clean all of the toys last night…”

“Sorry, mommy…”

“It’s okay,” you said, kissing your son’s forehead. “Ready to go outside?”

He nodded, smiling that huge smile that belonged to his dad. You sighed for a moment. “What’s wrong, mommy?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s wrong, baby...Mommy is doing fine.”

You hadn’t spoken to Doyoung since the day you broke up. He had no idea that Jaemin was born or, at least, you didn’t think he did. If he did know, that would hurt even more, knowing that he doesn’t even care.

You were humiliated after the breakup. You’d changed the codes to your apartment, blocked him on social media, and moved away shortly after that. Your friends thought it was a bit much to move apartments but you didn’t care. You didn’t want anything to do with your previous relationship, so you packed all of your things and moved.

You found yourself three months pregnant a month after you broke up. It wasn’t in you to have an abortion, so you had the baby even though it was hurtful. You decided that you’d have the baby of the man who broke your heart and shattered it into a million pieces. You thought about going to him and telling him that you were pregnant but you couldn’t bring yourself to face him, let alone tell him that you were going to be having his baby.

People kept asking you all sorts of questions. People asked you when you were due and what the gender was, but things quickly got uncomfortable when they started saying things like “Your husband must be so happy!”And while waiting at the doctor’s office for checkups, the nurses would ask, “Should we wait for your husband?” And you’d come up with a lie, saying that he couldn’t make it because of reasons X, Y, and Z. Sometimes, you’d admit that you were a single mother.

Jaemin never really asked about his dad. When he first started school, he asked if he had a daddy. You ended up crying and Jaemin wrapped his arms around you to give you a hug. Through your tears, you told him that he’d meet his daddy one day.

You handed your son his ice cream cup, which he requested with sprinkles. With his father’s smile, he took the ice cream from your hands.

“Thank you, mommy,” he said, spooning a small bit into his mouth while he waited at your side.

You took your ice cream from the vendor and he handed you your debit card back. “Thank you.”

Jaemin grabbed onto your hand, carefully holding his ice cream with his other hand. “Mommy, are we going to the park?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Do you want mommy to push you on the swings?”

Jaemin smiled, mouth covered in vanilla ice cream as you headed toward the children’s side of the park.

“Y/N?”

You stopped dead in your tracks. You knew that voice. It was the voice of the man who broke your heart four years ago. You were beginning to come to terms with things but hearing his voice triggered you.

The pregnancy was probably the hardest for you. Being pregnant, without anyone other than your parents to hold your hand, was the hardest for you. You wondered what it would’ve been like had the two of you stayed together. Would he have been there with you at all of your appointments, making sure you ate, and taking care of the baby? What would he have done if you’d told him about the pregnancy after the breakup?

Jaemin tugged at your sleeve and said, “Who’s that?”

You turned slowly, bringing you face to face with Doyoung. He stared at you, a hint of confusion swimming in his eyes. You stared back at him. You were at a loss for words. It really was him, four years older. He still looked young, a little older but barely. He was wearing a white blouse and black dress pants. You assumed that maybe he was either going to work or had an event to attend or something.

You knelt down in front of your son. “Hey, why don’t you go finish your ice cream on the bench over there? I’ll be there in a minute, okay?”

He didn’t protest or ask why. He just nodded and you kissed him on the forehead. “Okay!” He walked over to the bench a few feet away and climbed onto it, plopping down on his bottom.

You turned to face Doyoung again. He was clenching his jaw. He was annoyed with you and you could understand why.

“Why?” was his first question. Then, “Why did you disappear like that?”

You thought about what you’d do if you crossed paths with him again. You’d had a whole speech prepared, but you had no idea what to say to him, meeting him again. You didn’t think you’d have your son with you. At this point, you had no choice but to tell him everything.

“I had to get away,” you said. You didn’t know what else to say. Your eyes were beginning to water and you could feel the tears coming.

“You have a son?” he asked, glancing at Jaemin on the bench. You nodded, assuming that Doyoung hadn’t gotten a good look at him initially. He did a double take, this time studying the toddler’s features, probably comparing with his own.

We have a son, Doyoung...

There was no denying that Jaemin was Doyoung’s son. You had never cheated on him. Jaemin was the spitting image of his father. And the timing made sense.

Doyoung sighed, looking down at the concrete ground. “He’s my son, isn’t he?”

You nodded, guilty of keeping this secret from him for all of these years.

Doyoung finally looked up at you. “What the hell is wrong with you? Were you ever going to tell me? Were you just going to walk around with him all of this time, never telling me anything? It’s been four years!”

You opened your mouth. “I…”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” His voice started to crack and you saw tears building up in his own eyes. “All this time...I didn’t know. I had a son this whole time...”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you confessed. “After you broke up with me, I was embarrassed. To find out I was pregnant the next month really sucked for me. I couldn’t face you…I figured you were probably with your ex, so I couldn’t bring myself to tell you anything.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I could’ve tried harder to find you. I could’ve been there for you…”

You wiped the tears that had formed in your eyes. “No,” you said. “I was wrong. I should’ve told you everything…”

He bit his lip. “I want to be mad at you...I want to be be so mad at you right now. But I can’t. I know it’s partially my fault. I know I hurt you. Looking back, it wasn’t worth it. I shouldn’t have broken up with you like that. I was just going through some stuff and made a rash decision. I’m sorry, Y/N…”

You nodded. “I’m sorry, too… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I was pregnant.”

Doyoung nodded, wiping his eyes. “Can I meet him?”

You said, “Yeah…” You followed Doyoung toward the bench where Jaemin was sitting. He had finished his ice cream and had put the empty cup and spoon next to him.

Doyoung sat down next to Jaemin with the smile that you remembered. He said, “Hi, what’s your name?”

Jaemin smiled back at him. “Jaemin.”

You picked up the trash and quickly discarded it, sitting on the other side of your son. “This is your dad, Jaemin...I told you that you’d meet him.”

He turned to Doyoung with a wide grin. “Daddy?” Doyoung nodded and, at that, Jaemin reached over and hugged him. “Hi, Daddy!”

“You wanna go play now?” Doyoung asked, wrapping his arms around his son.

You smiled. You were relieved that he was happy to have a son despite the fact that you hadn’t told him. That had been one of your fears-him not wanting anything to do with you after telling him that you were pregnant. You wondered if he’d suggest that you get an abortion. But there was no point in lingering in the past now. He was here now, knowing the truth about the pregnancy that you hid from him, and he seemed to want to get to know his son.

Doyoung held Jaemin’s hand as he pulled him toward the swings. Apparently, he wanted daddy to push him on the swings now.

You stood next to Doyoung as he pushed Jaemin in the swing. He spoke first. “I want to be in his life, Y/N. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for him but I want to be a good father to him. I’ll help you however I can. I’ll pick him up from school and I’ll take him whenever you need a break on the weekends.” He paused. “Could I maybe take him to a movie today, or tomorrow if you’re busy today?”

You nodded. “You can take him later but he loves the swings so I don’t know if he’ll come out so easily.” Doyoung laughed and so did you.

Doyoung asked you a million questions about Jaemin. His birthday, his favorite things, the cartoons he liked...He asked what school he went to and if he was smart like you. You talked about old times. You talked about any and everything.

The past four years had been cold, but you had finally found some warmth.

#kim doyoung #kim dongyoung #nct doyoung #NCT #NCT 127 #nct u #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct fanfic #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #doyoung fanfic #nct fanfiction #neo culture technology

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chunkywhirlybird-blog · 7 years

Text

parenty thoughty

I’m trying to figure out how to type this without upsetting other moms. I can only speak from my own experiences, and I know no two babies are the same....

I don’t like the thought that “its ok to let baby cry a lot”... I don’t think babies are meant to cry as much we let them? For example, I was in a kid’s clothes store a few days ago, and there were two ladies and a newborn... the two ladies were more interested in going through clothes rather than what this wee little newborn was telling them--in the form of crying and wailing. Sounded like my own pooper’s “I need you” wail. But they did not acknowledge the baby... and the crying went on for like 10 minutes. I mean, I understand that you’re busy, I understand that babies cry and that’s ok, but if the baby was saying “I NEED YOU” and you’re two feet away and can’t stop looking at clothes for just two seconds... I dunno, seems like it’s an easy fix to just comfort the baby for a second, the clothes aren’t going anywhere...

(But then, who knows, the baby might be colicky or maybe the mom had no patience left--oh I get that one lol)

Another time, and this one makes my skin crawl, back when I was pregnant, my hubby and I were people watching and eating lunch at the local Big Ass Grocery Store. There was this lady and newborn shopping... mom had baby in the car seat in the cart, and the baby was just wailing and crying on, extremely uncomfortable. She kept trying to put a pacifier in the bab’s mouth, but the bab just kept spitting it out and screaming. Poor duder was red in the face, and just so unhappy. SO WHAT does mom do? Leaves the baby at an aisle encap and walks away!!! WALKS AWAY!!!!! She’s looking at all sorts of shit, ignoring this poor bab. She did not even look back at the baby. Strangers approach and talk to the baby!! Mom all of a sudden remember she has a baby, they appear to make small talk and she continues shopping. Like I’m sorry, but why can’t you comfort your baby?? Just hold them, the groceries aren’t going anywhere... I don’t think there’s an excuse for it. :/

I will also say, and I have defended this one IRL, you cannot hold your baby too much. That is bullshit. We’re a delicate and sensitive species, look at how chimps and other apes care for their babs, they HOLD THEM. A LOT. I think that ‘the more you hold them now, the less you’ll have to hold them later’ meaning that you’ve shown them that you’re there for them from such a young age, they will be independent sooner. I could not put my son down when he was a newborn. I think I needed the touch and I know he did, too... he couldn’t really sleep unless he was touching me. Now that he’s 5 months, he can’t stand to be touching me to fall asleep, he only ‘needs’ it a fraction of the time. He’s even ok with waking up in his bed and putting himself back to sleep. He also needs “his” time and doesn’t want to be held!

Oh and back to that mom at the grocery store, holy shit, I could not imagine doing that with my sonny. I KNOW someone would have touched him oh my god, people are always trying to touch him! Why do people think that’s acceptable?!?!!? Usually older ladies, it seems.... and when we go into stores and such, at least one person comments that my bab is freaking adorbs. I mean, I know, LOL, you don’t have to tell me, I made him, he is perfection lol.... (just kidding, or am I??) I feel like I’m accompanying a celebrity or something. But I do hate the attention. :p

Had to go into a public assistance office and wait for 3 hours, of course I had sonny boy with me, and it was so quiet and dismal in there... you would also not know there was a baby in there because he’s such a champ. Well, he did make his falling asleep sounds (he goes “eeeh, eeeh, ehh” very quietly for like 20 minutes)... but this one obnoxious older mom lady kept saying “I didn’t know babies could be that quiet”... like hush you, it’s all going to my head lol. Then she tried to play with him and she reeked of cigarette smoke and I was like noooo thanks. Bleh.

Gonna start weaning this month, I’m doing the baby-led method. He is SO excited about whatever it is we’re eating, he reaches for our food and even practice chews lol. We have been putting a tiny amount of rice cereal in his bottle at bedtime, which I AM SO not crazy about it, but daddo thinks it might be helping him sleep better. I dunno, I don’t think it matters too much. I do like the cereal we found, it literally just has rice in it. The Gerber stuff has SO much added crap. I really didn’t want carbs to be his first solid... ya know? Even the doctor recommended cereal as a first food... and I’m just... shouldn’t a meat or veggie be first? We evolved to eat meats and veggies, not processed carbs? Idk. He’s gonna get soft-cooked veggies this week. :3

Also, being a good mom is important to me! I want to be the best, like no one ever waaass. Er... the best to my son and his eventual sibling. If this means the house is a little unkempt, so be it. If this means I don’t have much of a social life or career, fuck it. (No, my house is not trashed, but it’s not perfectly clean either. And I suck at making friends, but I do miss focusing on my art so much)

Shit, I have done too much speculating. Time for bed. :3 Got a busy week of patiently waiting for Breath of the Wild uuuuuuuuuung.

#didn't mean to offend anyone #just speculating #correct me if i'm wrong

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