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p0isonyouth · 1 year ago

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Flurry | Spencer Reid

Summary: After bringing your childhood best friend, Spencer Reid, to a family gathering at your hometown, you car breaks down on the way back and a winter storm is brewing.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: fluff, pt. 2?

When you and Spencer took a day trip over to your parent’s house for a family dinner, you hadn’t expected being stuck with a busted tire, your childhood best friend whom you’ve had a crush on forever, and a blizzard. You expected to be back to Quantico a couple of hours ago, as both you and Spencer had work the next morning.

You were huddled in the back, wrapped up in the awful colored coat that your great aunt gave you, and boy did it provide the warmth. Peering out of the windows, you checked to see if Spencer was anywhere near the car. The boy genius, both worried about the both of you catching hypothermia and the wrath of Hotch if you arrived late to work, had decided to trek two miles to the nearest ounce of civilization that he could find to see if he could find a spare tire or repairman.

Your eyes moved to the door as it opened, seeing the intelligent man with snow in his hair. “Finally!” You exclaim, adjusting yourself to sit up straight. Spencer entered the driver’s seat, tapping on the wheel in frustration. “What took you so long? Did you get any help?”

“Y/N, I had to walk two miles.”

“So, are we gonna die in here or did you get any help?” You pressed, leaning forward in between the seats. The snow began to fall harder, and the sky was getting darker by the minute.

Spencer pursed his lips, turning to face you, his hazel eyes meeting yours. “Someone should be here in half an hour with your new tire. I can’t believe you threw out the spare, why would you do that?” He asked, giving away full disbelief in his eyes. “Did you know that 28% of vehicles don’t have spare tires, and more than half of them get into accidents without them. Yet, you threw yours out, Y/N.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to fit our luggage with it inside the car, Spencer. Jesus, I’m sorry.” To be fair, the circumstances were out of your control, even with the spare tire. Your car was pretty old, so it probably would’ve broken down in the winter chill anyways, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

“It’s freezing in here, Y/N!” He said, wrapping his arms around himself. You sat there, shocked at him for easily dismissing your apology. Usually, you were good at maintaining a poker face—given that that was a part of your job—but it was hard to act as if his lack of words didn’t affect you. Because they did. Badly.

At the continued silence, you leared your throat, cueing him to look down at you from the corner of his eyes. “Thank you for going for help, Spence.” You muttered, returning back to your huddled position in the back of the car. Spencer watched you move in the mirror, cursing himself for hurting your feelings.

“You’re welcome.” He watched you shiver in your seat, biting his bottom lip as he contemplated telling you more or not about the current situation you two were in. You were his best friend, one of the only people who stook up for him during his years of being a teen genius. There was no way that he was going to blame all of this on you.

With another shiver going down your spine, you let out a small laugh, gasping as the pain of the cold hit you. “God, you were right. It is freezing in here.”

With a sigh, Spencer opened the driver side’s door, hopping into the back and pulling you into a warm cuddle. You and Spencer had never been as close as you were now, yet both of you were afraid to break the intimate moment. You snuggled into his side, attempting to wrap the coat around his torso as well.

Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he snuggled his head into the nook of your neck. Your eyes darted around nervously, your mind locked in a relentless battle between reason and longing. You shouldn’t be feeling anything at a time like this, stuck in a winter storm. Still, your thoughts swirled in a whirlwind of forbidden fantasies, each one more tantalizing than the last.

“God, if JJ and Morgan saw this, they’d think they won the lottery.” You whispered, biting your lip as you felt his warm breath on your neck. “By now, I’m sure the whole team thinks that we’re—” You stopped, unsure what to say next. Reid lifts his head from your neck, turning your chin so you could face him.

“That we’re what, Y/N?” He whispered, a groan wanting to come out of your body. You could feel your face grow red, your heart racing. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, at a complete loss for words. You couldn’t think straight, not with his eyes staring down at you.

“I’m not sure, Spencer.” You tried to shrug, but his arms weighted down your shoulders. “You know, my mom offered for us to stay the night. I should’ve said yes, but I just couldn’t stand to see her with that new husband of hers, Winston.” You sneered, rolling your eyes at the mention of your stepfather. He was an older man than your mother, yet somehow inexperienced with the world. Upon meeting you, the man tried to act as your father, but he never would be.

“That bad, huh?” Spencer chuckled, his mind still racing with what you were going to say. He had tried to talk to you the whole reunion, yet relatives pulled you two away from each other each time. He wanted to talk to you about the feelings that he had felt since you two were children, the feelings that her didn’t know you reciprocated. “Winston seemed like an interesting person.

You snorted, rolling you eyes. “Interesting, alright. The highlight of the whole this is that he told me that they’ll put in a fold-out bed in the den just for me, told me that I could be their guest from time to time. Perks of being an only child I suppose, at least for now.”

“Sometimes happiness makes people a little selfish and very dense.” The genius commented, rubbing your arms for comfort.

“I walked down that hallway as slowly as I possibly could. I knew mom would follow me because I was upset. But the last thing I heard was the sound of her laughter before she left the room.”

“It’s not always going to be like that, Y/N.” Spencer assured, running his fingers through your hair. “I promise you.”

“You’re right, Spence.” You nodded in complete agreement. “They’ll have some more children, a nice beig family like mom always wanted. And then I’ll get booted out of the picture entirely.”

“Y/N, you know that your mom isn’t like that. She’s in love, and that changes people. She’ll be back to her old self in no time.” The doctor assured, moving you so you could be more comfortable. Your head rested in the nook of his arm, your eyes closed so you could enjoy the moment.

“All I know is that it’s not worth it. I’m never getting married. Ever.”

“Ever?” Spencer asked, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“No. I’m not.” You replied, eyes still closed against his arm. I’m just gonna have tons and tons of cash, maybe I’ll buy an island or something.” Spencer let out a laugh as you looked up at him, feigning offense. Hitting his shoulder, you gave a small pout. “What’s so funny.”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just glad you invited me, that’s all. I couldn’t get this much of a show at the bullpen, even from Garcia and Morgan.”

“Why, thank you.” You smiled widely, grabbing his cold hand and messing with his fingers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

His gaze rested on your eyes, slowly making its way down to your lips. Subconsciously, you leaned in closer, closing your eyes to await your moment of bliss. A moment you’ve been waiting for ever since you were a child.

Suddenly, a horn erupted from the distance, lights blaring into the window of the car. You and Spencer pulled apart, your heart beating fast.

What the hell just happened?

a/n: this is my first imagine! how'd you like it and do we want a part two?

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencerreid #wattpad #spencer reid fanfiction #reader insert #imagine #drabble #fluff #matthew gray gubler

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umbry-fic · 3 months ago

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Ashen Boundary

Summary: Vita wanders from the mountains, and has a peaceful meeting with a reaper.

Fandom: Arcaea Characters: Vita, Lethe Relationships: Vita & Lethe Rating: G Word Count: 1091 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 13/08/2024

Notes: I place the events of this fic as happening sometime before the final showdown between Lethe and Saya :)

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The crunch of sand under her shoes made Vita pause in her twisting and turning tracks, casting her gaze towards the horizon.

Thoughts had been running rampant through her mind ever since the day had stolen away, replaced by inky darkness where not even stars came out to play. Yet an unearthly light still fell upon the land, emanating from some unknown source and providing a path for her to follow through a massive library of glass and memories as she got lost in her head. Musing about who she had been before she’d ended up in this strange world, musings about its rapidly deteriorating state and the possible causes, musings about what would happen to them all when the fabric of reality inevitably tore itself apart. Weighed down by thoughts that refused to quiet, she found herself treading circles around the cave she shared with Saya, until she found herself at the mouth, as she always did. A warm hand wrapped a familiar cloak around her shoulders, and Saya had firmly told her not to wander too far before letting her go.

Shivering, Vita clutched the cloak tighter around herself, marvelling at the blizzard that whirled in the far distance. Its frigid fingers were too distant to curl around her as she watched the blankets of white that fell only to be torn apart. Beautiful and dangerous in equal measure.

Further surveying her surroundings, she frowned. How far had she wandered? Nothing looked familiar. The mountain wasn’t even in view anymore - instead, there were only the unrecognisable ruins of buildings, debris scattered about the sand as the broken spires of a church stabbed towards the sky.

The harsh slide of metal caused her to whirl around, nearly losing her balance as her already-pounding heart sped up even more, echoing in her ears.

“What are you doing so far out here, lost child?”

Standing before her was the very woman Saya had warned her about numerous times. Vita had only ever seen Lethe from a distance, a faint impression of glimmering gold and curved horns, before Saya’s hand on her shoulder steered her away before they could get too close.

“A horribly foolish woman,” Saya had scoffed, turning away. “Holding onto nothing but hope that has already fallen through her fingers.” She had remained, still and silent for a while, before walking away, never once looking back.

She stumbled back a few steps, breath catching as she desperately scrambled for a weapon of her own, only to realise that Lethe had lowered her scythe, letting its tip rest on the ground. Something else prickled at her mind - more was missing from the scene painted before her eyes.

The spark of rage she had once watched ignite and give rise to a wildfire had vanished from her golden eyes, Lethe’s gaze nothing but gentle as it rested on her, like a brush of butterflies, soft against her skin.

“I - I’m not lost!” she protested indignantly, cheeks flushing as she crossed her arms, relieved that she seemed to be in no danger. Yet she had somehow been caught in a situation where, once more, she would be treated as a child.

“No?” Lethe cocked her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Are you not usually with… the other woman?”

“I, well… Okay, maybe I am a little lost,” she admitted, shoulders slumping. “Why… Aren’t you attacking me?”

Saya and Lethe were always at each other’s throats, had been even before Saya had found her and given her a place to return to. It was like an immutable fact, woven among the very threads that made up the core of this world. It wasn’t a battle she could understand - she hated the idea of violence, the very thought of bringing harm to anyone else enough to bring bile rising up her throat. She understood Saya’s mission and its urgency, what with anxiety over the very boundaries of this world splintering constantly humming in her mind. Even then, she refused to partake in any fighting.

But she found that she couldn’t utter a single word of protest, fear that she would be turned away making her clam up. She couldn’t be alone in this lonely world. Not again. The most she did was accompany Saya whenever she ventured out, for the other woman always made the choice to avoid Lethe when she did so.

“Should I be?” Lethe asked, settling herself on a nearby rock as glass gathered around her. “It’s not your fault that violent woman refuses to respect that which is sacred.”

“I… No, I suppose.”

She just hadn’t expected there to be kindness.

The glass behind Lethe floated and dived, forming shapes behind her back. A blooming flower, its petals slowly spreading to face the sky. A hand, experimentally flexing its fingers. A bird, flapping its wings in joy as it prepared to soar.

It was breathtaking, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Saya had explained Lethe’s collection of glass before - pieces filled with nostalgia, each shard picked for no reason other than sentiment, fiercely protected. But this was beyond her wildest expectations.

Just as Saya’s rigid shelves of memories held an analytical beauty, so too did these wild shards embody a playful spirit.

Those golden eyes studied her for a moment more, before a gentle smile settled on Lethe’s face. It evoked the same warmth that Saya’s countless little gestures did, wrapping her heart with a warm blanket.

“You’re heading back towards the mountains, correct? Follow the hill up to the church, and you’ll be able to see it from there. You should hurry, before… before Saya begins to worry.” There was something a little sad in her eyes as she pointed towards the shattered ruins of the church that stood atop the hill behind her.

“Thank you,” she replied after a pause, beginning to head in that direction, for there were no more words left to share. Glancing back, she found Lethe had folded her hands in her lap and was staring off into the distance, gaze unfocussed as she ran her fingers along the shards of glass gathered around her.

Taking a deep breath, she began the trek home, determination building in her chest. No matter how afraid she was, she had to try and stop the two of them from ripping each other apart. After all, they were no different from each other. Just two woman, clinging desperately to their ideals in a land where nothing mattered.

There was so little left to hold sacred.

#fanfiction #one shot #arcaea #vita #lethe #last arcaea idea for a bit time to go write that ISAT oneshot

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starsirrah · 6 months ago

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#avantasia #poll #tobias sammet #the wicked symphony #the wicked trilogy #the scarecrow

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operationslipperypuppet · 8 months ago

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you should talk about melora/telaine/aryox. bc being normal about them is never an option <3

not since 53, at least. (this might be long oops)

to start i’ll like people here, another time i was asked a similar question. so i don’t repeat those things.

firstly, yes. i do think they were together. from some point in their adventure, long before they killed the god, and up until telaine broke the pact. part of the reason why it killed melora when telaine betrayed the promise was because melora thought their love was strong enough to prevent telaine from making that choice. part of the reason why it killed telaine to be trapped in the demiplane by melora was because she thought their love was strong enough for melora to not punish her for breaking the pact.

it’s worse and sadder, i think, if aryox gave up his piece of the heart before his death. (i wrote a fic based on the idea). and his giving it up was an act of love. he was, of course, the original worshipper of melora, the goddess of nature. because he had long been a worshiper of melora, the spring eladrin.

telaine and aryox fought, often. they loved to clash, and huge emotions were how they expressed their love. but they made sure to never get melora stuck in the middle if they could avoid it. because she didn’t deserve that.

meloras love is soft, all encompassing, when it comes to the two of them. like a blanket when there’s a slight chill. like a soft breeze on a spring day. telaine and aryox had loud love, always, but softened when it came to her. and her love softened them. (which is why telaine was so fiery and furious when the boobs met her).

the pact was melora’s idea. she wanted the world to be protected. she hated that it hadn’t protected her, or her friends. so she made sure they became a force of protection for the realm. aryox and telaine, in turn, protected her. from the ways she let being unable to protect the world hurt her. and her priority, always, was to protect them.

aryox knew, when the pact was made, that he would break it. that telaine would break it. he always had that sort of ability, to see the future in snippets. he didn’t tell them. he loved them enough to hope he was wrong, just this once. and when he wasn’t, about telaine, he knew the choice was clear. giving melora his piece of the heart would always be his punishment, from that day he knew the pact had to be broken.

melora’s anger, the kind that mirrored in many of her followers, manifested (manifests) in storms. there were weeks of blizzards when aryox was killed in the frigid north. when her fiercest followers died, people she wanted to protect but couldn’t intervene on, it would rain for days, or wind would whip through the trees at colossal speeds, whatever felt appropriate. when mount forge fell, the protected tomb of her dearest friend, the man she loved, the whole world felt it ripple. the storms weren’t nearly as bad as the cataclysm that came later, but the cataclysm was not the first time all of bahumia felt a godly stormy wrath that summer.

#this is so much sorry #thanks bestie i love being insane about them #naddpod #ba2mia #bahumia #asks #stone-stars #i absolutely may have repeated things but like. oh well.#hc #crumb mountain #if people want to send more of these i have a great time doing them

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artemis-potnia-theron · 1 year ago

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How I perceive different deities' energies: (pt. 2)

(based on personal experiences)

Bast 🐈‍⬛: Velvet. Roses. Incense. Aloe vera. Coconut milk. An enchanted vapor that fills the room like a fog, and suddenly its like I've known you for centuries. Light footsteps against wood floor. The humid steam of a sauna. Hot rocks against skin. An abundance of flowers; bouquets from the soul. Black mirrors and purple cystals.

Skadi 🗻: Breathing in winter air. Sharp and crisp within my lungs. Goose bumps. Cloud puffs of breath on a frigid morning. Wolves calling to each other. Dandelions. The whirl of an arrow loosed from its bow. Freshly fallen snow. Thick boots. Leather.

Fenrir 🐺: Righteous fury. Red behind the eyes. A pounding in my chest. An ancient drumb beat. Raw, red meat. Satiated hunger. An ache in my legs like I've been sprinting for a lifetime. Bone shards. The rage of the wronged. A long-fought battle. Bittersweet victory.

Freyja 🏵: My aunt's house. Plush fabric. A banquet. Cherry wine. Waves of gold. A concealed dagger. Calla lilies. Tough love and long embraces. Embroidered silk tapestries. A jewel encrusted mirror. Rosemary. Sun-catchers. Lace.

Kybele 🦁: Mountain mist. Echoing laughter. A voice that sings from somewhere just over the horizon. Dawn breaking. Roasted meat. Whiskey. Frenized dance at dusk. Breathing hard, almost panting. A sting. A balm. Cornflower. Daisies. Queen Anne's lace.

Inanna 🌟: A blue, purple light somewhere in the night. The brightest star in the sky. A river that flows between her and I and you and waves of souls that came before us. A beckoning song and a voice that comes from the heavens. An rare orchid.

Demeter 🌾: Divine rage and divine love. Wind through fields of wheat. Sun-dried tomatoes. Corn boiling in the pot. Hot summer wind. Dried grass. Being carried to my room as a child while I fell asleep. A sweet ache. A mother's touch. Trust, and a torrent of fury when that trust is broken.

Ereshkigal 🦉: Damp earth. Echoes. Owl talons. Quiet as a tomb and breathless whispers. A fluttering of wings in pitch black. Something dancing at the corner of my eye. Strength. Peace. Sterness. Beauty like the cosmos. She demands respect from every tounge.

Persephone 🥀: A funeral shroud. Bioluminescent fungi. Sweet, overripe fruit. Flowers growing from a corpse. Bones in bird nests. A hand clasping mine in the night. The smell of rain. Learning to live with my grief. A fate I no longer run from.

Cailleach Bheur ❄️: Fennel tea. Blizzard air. A lit cabin hearth while the storm rages outside. An heirloom quilt over my shoulders. Quiet. Contemplative. Resolutely austere. She knows all the answers, but she will have her silence. Burning coals. Shepherd's pie. Baked nuts. Glowing silver.

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codenamejudas · 7 months ago

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Officially a farm lad. Just don't let him touch the crops without gloves maybe.

#musings #it me #Blizzard on a Broken Mirror

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i-hug-exploder-shanks · 4 months ago

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Time is a Broken Mirror

Chapter 1 now up!

What would a Warmind wish for if he had the chance?

Resurrected as a Guardian, Rasputin ends up in the clutches of an Ahamkara before his first day is up.

His wish brings him back in time to face himself in a chance to fix his biggest regret but before he's ready to do that he first has to convince the Iron Lords to train him while racing the clock to get good enough before they leave to try to take SIVA from Site 6.

“I am not certain that I enjoy being an Exo more than being an AI locked in a bunker. The feeling of cold is very unpleasant. Can’t I have the option to turn it off?” A tall matte white exo complained as he hiked up the side of a mountain, heavy winter coat pulled tightly around him.

The ghost that was tucked into the hood of the coat grunted “I can’t turn you off when you annoy me. Deal with it. Part of being a person now Red,” and snuggled further into the coat. The Exo rolled his eyes but allowed the comment that might have at one point earned someone a great deal of pain.

“I do not think this is what Ana envisioned when she started playing music for me all those years ago. It certainly wasn’t something I ever calculated in any possible future,” He kept talking, mostly to distract himself from the blizzard they were fighting to get to the top. This would have been easier if he had stolen a ship.

“Never met her but from what I heard through the ghost rumor mill, which is very extensive, she would have flipped her lid if she had seen you. It’s probably for the best that dragon got to us first,” the ghost said basking in the heat being vented by the Exo with every breath.

“Perhaps. I doubt things will go better once we arrive if they realize who I am,” the new guardian sighed but he couldn’t fix things if they didn’t know he was attempting to do the fixing. He would have to reveal himself eventually and lying before that wouldn’t look good. He wasn’t sure what the best choice was and he didn’t have the same room in this mind for advanced calculations to try to compare both the way he could have before.

“Look, I’m just saying, we shouldn’t go in guns blazing on this one. You can be Red for a little while. Prove yourself. Make friends. Then let it come out after some time, once they like you more. Felwinter is a ghost killer. You have hunted him for years. I’d like to live a little longer, thank you very much,” The ghost grumbled and Red sighed.

“You’re right. I just… I need to learn all I can. This time’s me is less than pleased I accessed that bunker but I managed to disable his tracking on me and Siddar- Felwinter. Unless we access the panels or directly mark ourselves, Rasputin shouldn’t be able to find us.” He said feeling a little odd talking about himself when he was right there.

“And even if he does, you were able to gain control over some of the combat frames that tried to attack us. But I doubt a mental tug-o-war would go over well for long, you have the smaller brain now,” the ghost added oh so helpfully.

“I need to gain access to the seraph bunkers. If I can change the passcodes and take control it will limit his power so if- when- it comes to it, I can take control of the SIVA and prevent the carnage I once caused. But as I am now… I am, what did the Guardian call it? A new light? I do not know how best to control my body or abilities. So first we petition the Iron Lords and gain knowledge and skill, then we take control of the bunkers and weaken this time’s Rasputin, and finally I take control of the SIVA nanites and use them to help protect humanity like was originally intended by destroying the warsats and the other me completely. Remove myself from Xivu Arath’s sights before she even arrives,” He listed out the plan he had come up with once he realized where and when he was.

“Sounds so simple when you put it that way. Turn up here, you can’t see it in the storm but we’re approaching a watchtower. We should as for help to the Temple. I’ll say hidden.” The ghost said then vanished. Red vented out a huff of steam but dutifully went in the direction his ghost told him trusting the bot. He had seen though Felwinter’s memories how much Felspring had come to mean to him and he saw how Osiris had used to be with Sagira and how much he missed the ghost so he while they might not always agree, he was making an effort to trust and listen to the little drone.

“Who are you and what do you want?” A familiar voice startled Red and he was surprised to see Osiris float down in front of him, snow melting around the warlock’s slippered feet making Red sigh in jealousy of how warm he must be.

“My name is Red, I’m looking to petition the Iron Lords but currently I just want to get out of this blizzard.” He admitted honestly.

Osiris narrowed hs eyes but hummed, “Very well. I will escort you inside. This way,” He said and started down a path that was hard to make out as the wind shifted and picked up in intensity. Cold was starting to be his least favorite feeling so far.

Thankfully it only took a few more minutes before a pair of grand doors were swinging open to allow them both entry and Red sighed in relief at the warmth as he looked around curiously. He had seen the place through the scattered memories that he gained of Felwinter’s but it was different to see with his own eyes and he had to admit he was impressed.

Students milled about chatting with their peers, ghosts occasionally zipping past or hovering near their partners chatting with other ghosts. It felt like the place of learning it was meant to be and had a warm friendly feeling to it. Looking through some arches they passed he jumped a little at a huge wave of solar energy that was blasted through the courtyard followed sharp stinging arc energy along the ground and a orb of void humming through the air. Osiris thankfully slowed to let him watch the show.

“That’s just new lights, testing their limits. If you think that’s impressive wait until you see someone with experience take the field,” Osiris scoffed and Red did his best to hide the way his face twitched wanting to shift toward a smile. Some things were eternal it seemed, like Osiris’ ego.

“I’m guessing you are not a new light?” He asked and Osiris grinned at him, eyes taking on a gold sheen.

“I am not, although I am not an Iron Lord either. I am training under Lord Felwinter. We will see if any of the Iron Lords accept you as a student. I have to admit, Exos are not common around here. There’s only a handful I’ve seen besides Lord Felwinter himself. Where were you raised?” He asked tilting his head before starting to walk again and Rasputin considered the question. The less he lied the better.

“I will tell you if you spar with me and win. If I win, then you will not complain if I petition Lord Felwinter to train me too.” He bargained while his ghost screamed at him internally. He was protected here by the Iron Decree unless he did something to break it himself.

Osiris grinned at him with teeth. “Counter offer, I get to ask you any questions I want for five minutes if I win and you must answer truthfully.” He said and Red nodded holding out his hand.

“Deal.” He agreed and Osiris shook it before marching out onto the field.

“CLEAR OUT! I NEED SPACE!” He shouted and the new lights fled like a flock of birds away from a rabid dog. Red dutifully followed him out and stood on the opposite side of the field. His main advantage was experience watching a much older, wiser Osiris fight as well as his Exo body being more durable than Osiris’ softer human body.

“You are an idiot! He’s going to wipe you off the face of the earth while cackling manically!” his ghost hissed at him mentally.

“Be quiet, I need to focus.” He said and drew on Felwinter’s memories that he had retained as Osiris finally finished clearing the field and took his place. The Warlock immediately set himself ablaze and launched himself up into the air to rain fire down over Red who didn’t bother trying to dodge knowing it would be useless. Instead he drew the void around him like a protective cloak and let the fire fizz off of it causing the field to fill with steam and smoke.

When Osiris touched back down with a smirk that suggested he thought he already won, Red jumped and slammed down on him with all the force of a falling warsat crushing him like a little bug. Stepping back as Sagira appeared Red looked at his hands and the blood coating it with a sick feeling in his stomach. That was something he was definitely going to have to get over if he planned on fighting. He couldn’t get queasy over blood, especially blood that didn’t matter since Osiris was already brought back and grumbling at the cheering crowds around the field they were in.

“Best of three?” Red offered and Osiris snorted.

“Another time. I should have known better than to get cocky but I won’t make that mistake again. However, I am a man of my word. Come, I will take you to Lord Felwinter and let him decide whether or not to take you on,” He said and Red huffed realizing Osiris planned to take him covered in blood looking like some sort of barbarian. The Warlock was clever but so was Red.

With a shimmer of light his ghost changed out his gear and cleaned him up. He would be colder in the more simple clothing if he had to go outside but while in the temple it would at least keep him from looking a mess. Osiris tilted his head slightly clearly not expecting him to have had a change of clothes already.

“You’re oddly prepared for a new light.” Osiris said and Red shrugged.

“It took a while to get here and I wasn’t going to stay in filthy clothes the whole time. Plus as soon as I woke up some asshole started attacking me. You get good at protecting yourself when you have no other choice,” He said mostly because it made his ghost snicker internally at both hearing him cuss and insulting himself.

“And you won’t tell me where you were brought back or who attacked you?” He asked and Red shrugged.

“I never said that, but I’m not telling the story twice in the same day and I figure the Iron Lords would like to hear it.” He said and Osiris looked back at him with a considering glint in his eyes.

“Very well, wait here. I will go in and see if the Iron Lords can see you.” He said and slipped into a door. Red wanted to peek inside and try to hear what was said but he resisted the urge and folded his arms over his chest.

After a few minutes Osiris stepped out and held the door open waving him inside. Red let his eyes trace over the group gathered there picking out the Iron Lords he recognized. Saladin, Radegast, Perun, Skorri, Jolder and Felwinter were all there at moment with others he didn’t immediately recognize. He heard Jolder gasp when his eyes met hers and forced himself not to grimace and instead bow slightly.

“Hello, I am Red. I have come here to petition the Iron Lords for the chance to train here. I first woke up in a bunker of some sort and was attacked immediately upon waking by what I have come to know to be called combat frames. I managed to get to an adjoining room and lock them out using a console where my ghost managed to download some data before we escaped. We’ve been on the run since. I want to learn to defend myself and I would like to learn more about the bunkers. I heard rumors that there would be someone here that might be able to help me.” He said carefully letting his gaze flicker between the different Iron Lords before falling on Felwinter to try to judge his son’s reaction.

“Felwinter, look! You have a little brother! He’s got the same menacing glare you do!” Came a voice from the side that made Red jump and jerk his head to the side as Timur sauntered over to him grinning. His first instinct was to back up but that caused him to bump into Osiris who grabbed his arm in what could have been a friendly manner but Red knew was Osiris trapping him so he couldn’t escape Lord Timur who immediately started poking and prodding at his face. Red shoved down the urge to bite the eccentric warlock.

“Lord Timur, leave him alone. He’s debating biting you.” Felwinter said and Red looked at him startled worried maybe they had some sort of mental connection and Felwinter could read his thoughts.

“I can’t read your thoughts but I can read your face and I know what I would be debating doing in your place.” Felwiner said and Red half shuttered his eyes in a suspicious squint that had Timur laughing and even Osiris had an amused quirk to his lips.

“I will train you. Osiris can you find him a room near my observatory?” He asked and Osiris tilted his head in a slight bow.

“Of course.” He agreed and dragged Red out with him right as the arguing started. He let himself get dragged for a while before digging in his heels and jerking Osiris to a stop.

“Are you upset that he actually agreed to train me? I do not wish to cause strife.” He asked seriously and Osiris opened his mouth then shut it seeming to think about the answer.

“It will mean less time for me to spend with him which is something I enjoy but no. I am not upset he is going to train you. I am actually relieved. As much as I’d like to think I share much in common with him, there are definitely things that so far he has been alone in. I hope you can offer him a companion in ways that those of us not made of metal and synthskin can’t.” He told him after a moment and Red was surprised by the show of sincerity.

“I will endeavor to be both a good student and help how I can. I would like to have friends.” He said and Osiris nodded.

“Well be careful who you choose for that. As much as we might wish otherwise, the Iron Temple is filled with politics and you haven’t signed onto the popular side of things. Come on, we need to get you some toiletries and bedding from the quartermaster then I’ll show you the options for rooms.” He said and Red relaxed a little glad he hadn’t pissed the Phoenix of the Dark Ages off already. He was sure there would be time for that later.

#destiny 2 #destiny #my writing #destiny rasputin #fanfiction #the iron lords #iron lord felwinter #lord felwinter #felwinter #the warmind #warmind rasputin #osiris destiny #osiris

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cyberneticlagomorph · 2 months ago

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You must have fallen asleep in the middle of your work without noticing.

When you suddenly sit bolt upright upon waking a shower of assorted documents fly everywhere like some angular mockery of snow in a blizzard. You blink one eye and then the other several times until your face figures out how to sync the motions, were it not for the fact that you were watching this happen from OUTSIDE of your body you might have just assumed that you’d woken up energized to the point of mania.

"MAN! It's good to be back!" Said your mouth without your permission, your voice stolen and strange to your now ghostly ears.

Ma leans in through the kitchen doorway and squints, sizzling pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. You watch your body make eye contact with your mother, a big stupid smile spreading across your face. Your smiles have always looked ‘off’, kind of lopsided like you weren’t used to the motions, but the way your lips moved now bordered on cartoonishly silly. Your nose crinkled, and so did the corners of your eyes, like a kid smiling for school pictures before the concept of ‘cool’ and ‘ugly’ took over their entire brain. "Hi Ma, I think I've had an epiphany! You keep an eye on the kids while I have a talk with tall dark and blondie, but first..." You watch your body look down at itself, "I should really freshen up.”

Your body gets up and skitters into the bathroom like an awkwardly shaped bug with very little control of its limbs.

Ma frog blinks and mutters something about how ‘morning people should be illegal’ before retreating back into the kitchen.

You hover uneasily over the spot you’d been sleeping in, and watch your body abandon you. One of the hyenas (Bruce, the littlest one) stares at your disembodied ghost expectantly, you wave at him awkwardly and watch him wiggle with excitement, stretching up to sniff you and beg for pets. You expect your hand to go right through him, and it does, but for a second you ARE him and it freaks you out beyond all imagining.

You bolt like a scared squirrel.

In the bathroom, Zilch is getting handsy with you, and not in a fun way either. You can feel echoes of what he’s doing and it makes you nauseous. He probes his fingers into your mouth, prying it open as far as it’ll go and then some, marveling at the elasticity. He stretches, he bends, twists and grins with your now misshapen mouth. “Man oh MAN, and here I thought Pine Tree’s whole deal was deluxe, this thing is DECADENT!” Zilch says as he looks your body over in the mirror, running his hands down your thighs and wiggling your hips just to watch you wobble. “HAHAHAHA, gross! You look like something ModeSeven would draw.”

The second you get your meat suit back, that isosceles asshole is done for.

Zilch looks at you, head turning a full 180 to do so, “Reeeeeeelax, I’m a triangle of my word, I’m gonna fix your beef with blondie and give you your disgusting flesh prison back, but I wanna have fun with it first.”

“I. Am. Not. A. Toy.” Your voice, your wretched detached ghost voice, sounds too organic. It sounds too human. Your ectoplasmic exterior itches and burns with discomfort.

“Right you are! You’re not a toy,” Zilch smiles with your mouth, tilting your head at such a sharp angle your neck looks broken. “You’re my puppet.”

Your spectral fingers twitch, and Zilch chuckles with your broken bitcrushed midi laugh. “But before I make good on my promise, I can’t go out in public looking like THIS!”

Zilch turns to face the mirror again and inspects your body’s face with new interest, “Eugh, too blue!” He runs his fingers through your hair and you watch the color drain away, leaving a bright buttery yellow behind with black roots. He gives you black lipstick and gold eyeshadow. He leans in closer to the mirror and your eyes start to spin like a slot machine, when they stop your pupils are glowing golden triangles. With a snap of his fingers, you’re dressed in a faded button down with a moth at your throat, a cane in your hand, and Zilch’s big stupid shades over his eyes. “Now then, let’s get this party STARTED!”

#ic #⚠️👁️#action post #art by bunny!

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crmsnmth · 7 months ago

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Seen But Not Heard

In my house it was always to be seen but never heard. It didn't matter unless you were dying You were to never interrupt and you spoke when spoken too Any time they had friends over Find me off in the corner, coloring a Rugrats coloring book scared that the sound of crayon on paper might get to them Because if I was heard, they'd be heard And I'm constantly in the way

Parties every weekend, when I hide in my room Learning voices of music and keeping my headphones Some habits are hard to break Across the hall, there's a snowstorm happening in their room I know because they don't always close the door all the way I used to always wonder why they put powdered sugar on the mirror

Soon it was to be hidden and not heard I wasn't a cute little kid with crayons anymore I was an angry teenager dressed in black putting holes in his bedroom walls Just so I can feel something in my swelling knuckles And across the hall, they keep their door locked now I never see behind the cracks

Soon I didn't matter at all, as bitter divorce shows it's fangs Even the blizzards couldn't keep a loveless marriage alive At first it was depression at the fact that my family had fallen But it quickly faded, when I realized that this wasn't the first time And I watched in silence, hiding in the corner with my crayons drawing pictures that would disturb any guidance counselor For some reason, I have to see her once a week

At eighteen I said goodbye, with a slamming door and a "fuck you" I moved in with my dad until I could get on my feet And now that I was an adult, I was seen, I was heard Just never in a way that anybody could really understand and soon enough it started to flurry a little bit in my world Finally understanding how to bake something off of reflective glass

In my home, it is always hide and be silent I've never really figured out how to adjust the volume Things get built into us as we age in our lives Habits become permanant enclosures in our dangerous zoo Each new thought processed is a new animal that kills Apex predators hide best when they grab hold of dying words

She tried to listen to me, but that's all on her I gave her fair warning that my mind is a wasteland she played caretaker until she'd find me overwhelmed locked inside a closet with broken crayons I don't blame her at all for when she couldn't take it at all Always heard, but never seen

And soon enough, off to new friend's living room floor drowning a flood of brown liquors and beer stained nights How is it I never got to see how this ends And she came out of nowhere, seeing me. Hearing me. For the first and only time in my life, I knew what it was to be human to be loved, cared for, heard, seen, wanted.

But things don't last forever in this world we go through And soon enough I wasn't seen, and I wasn't heard Alone in a city with nothing worth grabbing I lived in pits of heartbreak, dragons, snow, and fungus Walking along sidewalks of violence even the muggers couldn't see me they couldn't hear me

Until she appeared, dragging me by the neck into her arm Pretending to listen and see but in the process starting the grooming I was seen, but I was clay and I was heard, but I was static Miable, pliable, building blocks of what she wanted She held red crayons and used them to drain my blood Her little project

I escaped in the quiet of domestic abuse excuses I claim no sainthood by my hands And she couldn't claim her innocense forever I take my undeserved punishment, in a cage always seen always heard

Now I've learned from all these lessons And I've taken them as the gospel of my life Chris 8:15. Make sure you are seen, and make sure you are heard I've written this in crayon and the margins of a SpongeBob coloring book.

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fluidstatick · 1 year ago

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I've finally had some coffee and given myself the chance to look back over the last four episodes of cr3, figuring out how this happened. This got long. Strap in.

In 3.74, Ashton told Evontra'vir "I seek my past, I seek power. I seek to know who I am." Evontra'vir tells them that their father, Evterin, came to ask for power. "He was a broken man of burning purpose. He came to ask me for the golden purpose they felt the world owed them. He claimed visions that promised greatness. He was not wrong. I showed him his future, and showed him the way to the necropolis of Toramunda, where he recovered the final shard of Ka'mort. He thought his destiny was his to embrace, but he was wrong. He was meant to create and destroy the Hishari, and in the process, create you. He could not see beyond his own aspirations, but now you have returned to me seeking another piece of history's sorrow, in the name of finding your own destiny."

Too Flowery; Didn't Read: Ashton contains a shard of Ka'mort, the primordial titan empress of Earth, because their father blew up the Hishari trying to wield it incorrectly.

Evontra'vir vagues for a while about who and what he is, but that's not relevant to this investigation I'm doing. Ashton gives the tree a hit from their pipe of heroism, to try and give insight into who he was. They only get back vague images of the tree collecting souls from the air around him.

Matt's delivery of this conversation is extremely slow, and I found myself easily distracted, so I missed a lot of Tal's microexpressions during this bit the first time. Watching it back again, I note that Ashton is visibly processing the fact that they're here because of their father's big greedy mistake, and that the calamity was a big greedy mistake that created Evontra'vir. The gears are turning, and they're deciding it will probably benefit them to make massive, stupid decisions and create something legendary. They've decided to get suicidally reckless, because to them, that's how creation happens.

In the latest 4sd, one of vanishingly few things that stuck out to me was Taliesin saying, basically, "I've realized that Ashton and Percy hate each other because they're pretty much the same person. They're both stubborn, reckless, broken assholes who make big stupid moves, and they see that in each other, and they can't stand it." Marisha was surprised, but Ashley wasn't. In fact, Tal said to Ashley shortly after that, "we're going to have a chat about this fire shard off camera. But I think we're on the same page."

Anyway, Evontra'vir says, slowly and with much cryptic flourish, that ashton will have to make a few very big decisions and become someone of great importance soon, whether they want to or not. Then the tree splits open to make a portal and says I'm sending you to where the shard is. Hurry, you're running out of time." They hop through the portal into a blizzard. Episode ends.

In 3.75, when they get to the bottom of the cave diving situation, they find a bunch of little fire imps guarding the shard. It's made abundantly clear that the fire shard and earth shard are meant for two different vessels, and if they're put into the same vessel things won't end well. Ashton's eyes sparkle like Oh Really? The party hems and haws for a bit about the safest way to retrieve the shard, but Ashton gets frustrated, says fuck it, and hops into the pool of lava that the shard is sitting at the bottom of. They start taking disgusting amounts of fire damage. Imogen asks telepathically if they're ok, and they just scream back. Fearne says well, fuck this, and dives in after them. They both come up out of the lava, somehow not dead. Their combined lack of self preservation saved both of them. Ashton says "I always wanted a sister." (Mirroring what imodna said about each other earlier in the campaign, basically rigging the callowmoore ship to sail.) Fearne misinterprets this as setting a hard boundary ("that's not where I was seeing this going - never mind.")

But that sets another leg of this awful table. Ashton has swung for the fences, gotten their shit rocked, and Fearne has saved them. The expectation has been set: Ashton fucks up, Fearne runs damage control.

The rest of the party wonders who should have the shard. Fearne doesn't want it, she's cagey about it. The party reconfirms with Matt that letting Ashton have it wouldn't end well. Ashton looks unconvinced; "He said it might be bad, not that it definitely would be bad."

A while back when they said I'm done fucking around, i wanna be a hero, they wanted to believe they were going to become more like Orym. We wanted to believe it too. But their version of heroism isn't being prudent and proactive. It's being hungry, reckless, stubborn. It's who their father was, it's who they are. A legacy of big swings, and even bigger misses, that change that course of history. They'll win or they'll die, and it's not out of love and duty. It's out of anger and self obsession. They care about others, but they don't put in the work to respect others with their actions.

They're not alone in this mistake. Letters is reckless and stubborn for moral reasons (harming laudna repeatedly to prove a point about the changebringer), but Ashton is unique in that they're reckless and stubborn for egoic reasons (get revenge on the bad guys for making them suffer all their life, get famous in the process, and fuck everybody else's feelings).

Taliesin made the right character call. It blindsided everyone because they saw Taliesin first, then the shadow of Caduceus' wisdom, then Percy's sense of justice, and finally just a flicker of Ashton's hypocrisy and bitterness. Matt was upset because he made the consequences extremely clear. But Ashton didn't care about consequences, they wanted revenge and glory, in that order, and if they died first then they wouldn't have to say goodbye to the hells or face the emotional consequences of their decisions.

When tal said "you gave me a big red button," he didn't mean "heehoo spicy plot device go boom lmao." He meant "this was my opportunity to show y'all just how unstable and fucked up the barbarian really is. The possibilities are endless, and that's not a good or fun thing. We're literally all powder kegs and don't you dare forget it."

Delilah encouraged Fearne and Imogen to go dark, and now they're seriously considering it. Orym spent every single dime he had in Whitestone, at Gilmore's and the Slayer's Cake, as a love letter and an apology to VM for what he's about to do. He gave Fearne the spyglass he stole off the ghost ship, because in his words, "now you can keep an eye on me." Implying she'll lose him soon. (he believes he's going to die on the moon, and very probably fail to save Exandria from Predathos, because the group is so disjointed.)

Chet is rolling death checks at disadvantage, hitting on Percy's sister, muttering jokes about how there won't be wood on the moon so he doesn't want to go, and basically hanging back from connecting with anybody around him. He doesn't give a fuck.

Matt's teeing them up with so, so many existential decisions, and they're all leaning in the wrong direction. Laudna is leaning into Delilah. Fearne is leaning into Ashton's hubris and chewing on the possibilities of Dark!Fearne. Imogen is flirting with the idea that her mother's power might not be so morally reprehensible after all. Orym and Chet are marching toward death. Letters continues to play the one song they know, myopically fixated on the gods who have done nothing but ask them for things and show them darkness. And Ashton is finally, textually, metaphorically and literally, melting down in the name of Glory. You win or you die, and it doesn't matter which anymore. Not to any of them.

It stings like a motherfucker, but it's narratively consistent.

#long post #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #cr3 #this isn't the most concise or eloquent explanation #but i feel less betrayed now that I've chewed on some motivations and flipped some assumptions around

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anthologiemystika · 2 years ago

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Weather Magic 101

One of the most common forms of magic, and the most fun, weather magic is found around the world in many forms and iterations. While not necessarily difficult, it is indeed an advanced form of magic. Here I will go over the basics of weather magic, how it works, and the difficulties surrounding it.

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Basics of Weather Magic

Weather magic is based on the principle of controlling or manipulating the weather to suit your will. This can be anything from starting a small breeze, stopping blizzard, or bringing rain. That being said, weather magic is a very powerful form of magic. You are dealing with nature directly, and it’s laws, as such it is not so much about “controlling” the weather, it is more of a request for the weather to do what you wish it to. It is also unpredictable at best. You can cast the same spell for rain, with similar weather conditions, and the first time you might get a drizzle and other times you might get a deluge.

Weather magic surprisingly falls under the left hand path or magic. As it affects multiple people and multiple environments unwillingly, it is almost considered a type of compulsion spell. While many people are a bit confused by this, it is easy to forget that just because you want rain, doesn’t mean your neighbors do. Due to this, weather magic is usually not practiced by those who practice the threefold law due to its unpredictability in nature, and the fact that there is very little you can do to control it or stop it once it is in the works.

As weather magic relies on precise circumstances to work, it is also one of the most common types of magic to fail. Since magic relies on the belief of the user that it is going to work, it is not recommended for beginners as most beginners will get dismayed when it doesn’t work which can negatively impact their practice. When something in magic fails, we tend to think “what did I do wrong” or “maybe I am just not cut out for this”, however if weather magic fails the proper question you should ask yourself is “were the circumstances correct for this to work, or was I setting myself up for failure”?

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How Weather Magic Works

The first thing to remember about weather magic is that, as all things are of nature, it follows its own laws that cannot be broken. For example, all the conditions need to be just right for it to even have a hope of succeeding. What this means is that you cannot summon snow in summer and you cannot call a wind on a calm day. That being said, if the conditions are right, nothing is more satisfying than calling up a wind or storm when it is needed. Indeed, even calling up a rain is a fun and worthwhile activity.

Almost all forms of weather magic fall under the category of sympathetic magic. Sympathetic magic is a type of magic where you use items, tools, or even movement to manipulate the energy and clearly describe how you want the energy to work and move. For example, in sympathetic magic you might take a bucket of water and dump it on the ground to help show that you want rain to fall. Sympathetic magic works by tying the energies together creating a relatable cause and effect mirroring scenario. In other words, “do what I am showing you”.

Once you have cast the spell or done the working, one of the most important things to remember is that weather is unpredictable by its very nature, as such it is not unusual to accidentally create something you did not want. Imagine that the air is a dam. One the one side you have an area of high pressure, and on the other side and area of low pressure. If you want to create a wind, you need to poke a small whole in the damn to give the air molecules a place to move from the area of high pressure to low pressure. However once you poke the whole in the damn, it could trickle out, come out in a stream, or the damn could burst. You have no control over this, for this is the way nature works, and also is what makes weather magic so unpredictable. You cannot control it, you can only start the process and let it run its course. And just like a dam, it will burst when it is good and ready, not any time sooner.

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Difficulties With Weather Magic

So weather magic is not for beginners, by any means. On top of the likelihood of the spell failing and the inability to control what you want to happen and when, weather magic is deceptively easy which makes it dangerous. Most weather spells have few ingredients or supplies, have a few words, and an action. Mostly or the rituals can be done and completed within an hour at most, as such it is an easy draw for beginner witches. Besides, what beginner witch doesn’t want to make rain? That is part of the danger, the allure.

Weather magic, like most forms of magic, can backfire and have consequences. Unlike most forms of magic, weather magic affects an entire area as such, everyone in that area has to live with the consequences of your actions. Take for example the Australian wildfires. A few years ago, there were massive wildfires in Australia, some of the worst the country had ever seen. In a moment of solidarity, witches the world over did spells for rain. And guess what? It worked! Soon the area was inundated with rain which helped to put out the fires. But the rain didn’t stop when the fires were done, it kept raining. It rained record rainfall in an area that normally doesn’t get much rain, which resulted in massive flooding and destruction that rivaled the fire itself.

That is the biggest risk for weather magic, having to think about what could happen. The question isn’t COULD you do something, but SHOULD you do it? Would it be helpful to bring rain during a drought or stop a blizzard in its tracks? Of course. However what could you be affecting or changing with those actions? Whose lives are you affecting, and what could be the blowback for that?

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In Conclusion

Being a storm witch, a Tempestarii, or even just playing with the weather can be a fun and rewarding experience. But it also carries with it the responsibility that you are indeed playing with magic that can affect the lives on many others. Doing your research, understanding the principles and science of weather, and asking SHOULD you versus COULD you, will help to lead to practice the best type of weather magic there is. The safe kind.

***All Images were taken from Pinterest***

#Weather #weather magic #witchcraft #witch community #witchblr #paganism #witchcore #romeoposting #beginners guide

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she-karev · 6 months ago

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Reuniting with Andrew (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev's Sister Angst)

Previous Chapter Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Two of Two

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Station 19

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 16 Episode 19/Season 3 Episode 15

Summary: Amber continues to connect with Wren while Alex gives Andrew a special welcome back. Later she finds out that Jackson was shot while working the PRT. That night she gets a surprise visit at Jackson’s penthouse.

Words: 3441

The pit is less crowded than it was before with 12 of the beds occupied by first responders including Wren. Amber inhales to keep her emotions under control before going to Wren’s bed where she is still waiting for her cast.

“Hey sorry I was gone for so long I had an unexpected collision but I am here now and ready to put your cast on.”

Wren gives a knowing grin, “I remember where I know you from, it took a while but I figured it out while you were gone.” Amber looks interested while taking the supplies out, “The Outlier last week.”

Amber takes a moment before recollecting, “Ah! I remember that was the guy who choked on the steak frites. PRT was in the neighborhood and I had to do an emergency tracheotomy on site.”

“Yes!” Wren smiles, “My team arrived five minutes later, I was the driver but I saw you in the rear-view mirror throwing your gloves away like it was a normal day and you didn’t cut a guy’s throat open at a restaurant. I can’t believe how normal you acted after.”

Amber grins proudly, “Well you know I do tracheotomy’s here in a sterile room it only feels slightly weird when there’s a waiter next to you asking if a customer would like a drink. Plus, I got pretty used to operating inside a truck next to fires so this was just a walk in the park. Okay this is the part where you hate me, we gotta reset the wrist.”

Wren inhales and sits up, “Let’s get this over with.” Amber positions them to reset the wrist. Amber grasps the broken bone and counts to three before quickly snapping it in place causing Wren to groan in pain.

“I told you; you would hate me. The hard part is over now comes the fun part, putting your cast on.” Amber pulls out a sock for the first layer, “So the tracheotomy was fine by your standards as a paramedic?”

“Hell yeah, you handled that like a boss. The doctor at Seattle Pres told us you pretty much took care of half the work for them.”

Amber snorts as she puts the sock over the arm, “It wouldn’t be different from any other day doing their work for them. Don’t tell them I said that you know how fragile doctors egos can be, I’m speaking as one.”

Wren groans, “I know, I keep saying it’s a real coincidence their closed to trauma during a storm or a blizzard or a full moon.”

Amber chuckles, “Lucky were not a superstitious bunch then. Okay I’m gonna apply the gauze next you shouldn’t feel a thing.”

Wren lies still as she holds her injured arm out for Amber to wrap the gauze around, “So what was the collision?”

“Huh?”

“You said you had an unexpected collision that caused you to be late, was it a surgery or something?”

Amber groans under her breath, “Or something.” Amber looks up and sees Wren giving a ‘tell me more’ look. Normally she would resist telling a stranger about her relationship problems but for some reason she feels safe enough to talk to Wren. Maybe it’s because for the first time in weeks she made her feel good about herself unlike Andrew who made her feel like crap. Plus it doesn’t hurt that Wren looks beautiful even covered in soot. Amber clears her throat to start, “I ran into my ex-boyfriend while he was visiting. It was the first time I’ve seen him since he had a mental breakdown, lashed out at me, quit his job here and left without so much as a call back.”

Wren winces from that story instead of the fracture, “Ouch and how did you react?”

“I told him I wasn’t gonna be around for him to use as a verbal punching bag and that if he came to his senses not to come crawling back to me. It’s safe to say I made an impressive scene.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Amber rolls another layer of gauze around the arm, “I’ve had some pretty bad relationships myself, not crazy like yours but ones that left me with a bruised heart. It sucks.”

“It really does especially when you bought an apartment together and he kicked you out.”

“Damn and it gets worse. Are you staying with someone?”

“My friend, he has a penthouse with more than enough room and thick walls so I can cry my eyes out. And I don’t care that he gets the apartment he could burn it down for all I care and he could be inside and I’m pretty sure I would jump in joy. Nope forward march.”

Wren grins, “That is very admirable, most people would be a mess for weeks after that disaster rollercoaster.”

Amber takes out the red fiberglass, “Well I’m not most people.”

“I can tell and I can also tell that guy is the biggest idiot in the world to let a strong, smart and badass woman like you go.” Amber looks at her touched by her compliment before taking the scissors out.

Meanwhile

Andrew DeLuca walks down the hall rubbing his eyes and feeling worse after what Amber said. He’s letting it get to him and letting it sink in that a woman he loved is so angry at him she doesn’t care how she hurts him as long as he is. It makes him feel guilty but he ignores it as he heads down the hall to the library to figure out what’s wrong with Richard. He feels someone tapping his shoulder. He turns around and is met with a hard punch to the face causing him to tumble down.

“What the hell!” He looks up and sees that the person who punched him is none other than Alex Karev who stares at him with more fury than he did the first night he assaulted him. Andrew quickly stands up and looks both afraid and angry at Alex’s reaction.

Alex inhales and exhales before simply saying, “That’s for my sister.” Alex turns around and walks away from DeLuca who only looks on in shock before snapping out of it and heading to his destination with a throbbing left eye.

Later

Amber snaps off the fiberglass and presents the red cast around Wren’s arm, “Voila!”

“Nice it looks cool; do you want to be the first to sign it?”

Amber chuckles takes out her sharpie, “Sure what do you want it to say?”

“Maybe a get well and maybe a phone number that’s real?” Amber looks at her startled and Wren catches on, “Oh god sorry that was way too forward. I just thought we had this connection while we were talking and I know you’re going through a rough time right now and I am not taking advantage of you I’m not. I just thought you could use a night where you don’t cry to death and maybe get a drink with a paramedic who thinks your super-hot and cool and should let you know that for once. And you can step in anytime to make me not look like a babbling fool.”

Amber grins, “Um…I can leave you my number on the cast and you can call me later once I’ve thought about it.”

Wren grins, “I will take that.” Amber smiles and writes her name and number on the cast unaware of Qadri and Casey looking interested from the station.

“How does she do that?” Qadri asks perplexed, “When I get dumped, I lie in bed for months with tubs of ice cream meanwhile she gets a hot first responder. I want a hot first responder.”

Casey snorts, “Me too.”

Amber walks to the station with a smile on her face getting scandalous looks from her friends causing her suspicion, “What?”

“Oh nothing.” Qadri answers with a grin, “We just can’t help but notice you getting cozy with that paramedic whose arm you patched up, who is she?”

“Her name is Wren and we were not getting cozy, I was just signing her cast.”

“With your phone number?” Amber turns to Casey who has a grin too, “Hey life is short and you deserve good things Karev I am not judging here. Let me know if she has a brother or sister.”

Qadri steps in, “Brother for me if you can or a cousin or rich, old uncle I don’t care.”

Amber chuckles, “Okay it was nothing she asked me out for drinks and I said I would think about it.”

“What is there to think about?” Dahlia asks, “She’s cute, she’s a first responder, she’s queer, ask her out.”

Amber groans at the simple explanation, “I am fresh out of a 2-year relationship that ended in an explosion that left me alone in my best friends’ apartment.”

Dahlia looks shameful, “Okay fair.”

Amber remembers something, “Speaking of which, where is Avery? He and Warren should’ve been here an hour ago with the guy who attacked that girl, Darcie.”

Schmitt hears her and goes to them with a remorseful face, “Um Dr. Warren called just now and told us that he lost a patient.”

“No big loss there after you tried to rape a girl.” Casey coldly states.

“Also, there was a possible GSW on the scene.”

Amber is so shocked she looks at him blankly and asks in a numb voice, “A what?”

Later

Amber gowns up and runs to the ambulance bay with Schmitt and Bailey to attend to the GSW brought in by the ambulance. Amber is hoping it’s a random patient and not the guy who is pretty much the reason she is still standing right now. Her fears come true however as she sees Jackson inside the ambulance on a gurney with gauze around his leg that is covered in blood.

“Avery? You're the GSW?”

Amber asks them in a frustrated tone, “What the hell happened?”

“It's an extremely long story.”

Jackson dismisses Ben’s comment, “It’s really not that long. Junkie held us up for drսgs and then shot me.”

“With a gun?” Schmitt asks in shock, causing Amber to glare at him for his idiocy.

“Yes, with a gun, Schmitt.” Amber growls under breath following Jackson to trauma one, “Okay, my tourniquet's been on like 20 minutes. Page Dr. Lincoln and Dr. Hunt it’s a through and through on the calf.”

“Get him to trauma one.” Amber is still angry at Jackson and tears at him while the paramedics wheel him in, “One day I leave you alone for one day and you get shot! Are you trying to make me have a heart attack?!”

Jackson winces at the yelling and they enter the trauma room, “Your absolutely right Amber I should have thought twice before letting a junkie try and rob me before getting shot in the leg. How could I be so cruel to you?”

Amber gets angrier with his sarcasm, “Boy I am gonna kick your ass once you get that leg healed up.”

“As long as you don’t do it while we check his injuries.” Link tells her as he enters the room with Hunt, “What do we got?”

Amber stops and informs them, “GSW on the calf bullet went through. There was bleeding but a tourniquet was applied on the scene.”

Hunt looks at the injury, “No infection. Our O.R.’s are booked so we’re gonna debride in here.”

“My lucky day.” Jackson sarcastically says with Amber pinching the bridge of her nose still pissed at him.

Link catches on, “Hey Karev we got this how about you go out and take care of the pit and we’ll update you as soon as we can.”

“I’m not leaving.” Amber tells him with a frown, “I’ve barely made a dent in scolding this idiot.”

“Which is why you need to go.” Hunt points out sternly, “Now we need a quiet and calm space to work here and quite frankly you are the opposite right now so please leave.”

Amber inhales and exhales for a moment before pointing her finger at Jackson with a glare, “We’re not done talking about this.” Amber snaps off her gloves turning to the orthopedic and trauma surgeon, “Let me when I can visit him post op.” Amber throws away her gown and gloves in a huff returning to the pit leaving Jackson behind who looks at Hunt and Link with a pleading face.

“Any chance you guys can sedate her before she visits me?” Hunt and Link grin and get ready to debride.

Later

After finally finishing her shift Amber was going to confront Jackson but decided to sleep on it with renewed energy for tomorrow. She walks down the hall to check on Dr. Webber and as she expected her brother Alex is at the station looking at his tablet in torment, no doubt anguished at seeing his teacher and friend in such a dwindling state. Amber sighs at the sight before approaching her oldest brother.

“Hey how’s it going on your end?”

Alex chuckles bitterly, “Oh just my boss and friend who was the main reason I evolved into a successful surgeon and decent human being from my first day as an arrogant intern coming back from the O.R. where his hallucinations almost caused him to slice open his own stomach with a scalpel. It’s just your regular Thursday.”

Despite his nonchalant tone Amber can tell that he is struggling the same way Meredith is but like her is trying to mask it. Meredith, Jo and Amber are the only people in the hospital who can see the pain behind his eyes and are the source of comforts he so clearly needs right now. Amber takes the initiative and puts her hand on his shoulder in a comforting notion.

“We’re gonna figure this out. It’s not a hope it’s a fact he’s got some of the brightest people in there working tooth and nail to get a damn diagnosis and fix him.”

Alex nods, “Yeah, I know. I just feel like I should be doing something, maybe I should’ve gotten into neuro or general then I would be useful.”

“Alex you’re a smart guy but you’re no Dr. House, there’s nothing you can do in this situation except be there for support. God knows he’s gonna need it.” Alex still looks tormented and Amber can guess where his head is at, “Nobody caught this until the conference. All of us thought he was depressed and the events of his life recently, strange behavior would be common. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

Alex sighs, “Jo gave me the same speech this morning, it didn’t work. I’ve known him for years and yeah stuff happened but he never reacted like this.” Alex’s face shifts to anger, “I wish I could yell at Catherine for leaving him and buying Pac North out of sheer spite. If that didn’t happen maybe we would question why he was deteriorating and catch this thing sooner before it caused him to make a scene in front of the whole medical community.”

“I don’t know if it’s good or bad you shifted from blaming yourself to blaming Catherine. We’re all frustrated Alex and yeah maybe if Catherine didn’t do those things, we wouldn’t be so quick to depression but what happened happened. All we can do is set the blame aside and help Webber, he needs that more than he needs you to point fingers.”

Alex looks at Amber in thought, “Look at you being the stable and wise sibling.”

Amber shrugs, “I have my moments like you, just like we both have moments of being volatile and punching certain residents in the middle of the hallway.”

“Do not expect me to apologize for that.” Alex quickly defends, “And don’t expect me to sit idle by while the guy who kicked my sister to the streets crying walks down the hall like he didn’t do anything wrong. You and I both know if it was Izzie or Ava or Lucy here today instead of DeLuca you would…punch them in the noses so bad they send Avery for a consult.”

Amber scoffs, “I…” She tries to defend herself but she knows as well as him how vengeful she can be, “would.”

Alex grins for the first time that day and chuckles while clarifying, “You totally would.”

Amber also chuckles, “Yeah I would.” They suddenly burst out laughing over that statement for a few moments before they calm down with both of them still smiling. Amber exhales in amusement, “We Karev’s really can pick them huh?”

Alex snorts, “If it makes you feel better, I raise your one crazy boyfriend with four girlfriends who left me, had a nervous breakdown or both.”

Amber pats his hand in comfort, “Thanks. It doesn’t.”

Alex sighs at his sister’s pain, “Are you okay?”

Amber clears her throat, “I’m fine I’ve handled worse nuclear explosions and learned how to walk away from pain I didn’t sign up for. Remember I did that with mom and you if you recall.”

Alex looks down in shame over his attempts to ignore his sister in her time of need, “Sorry I’m on that list kid.”

“Well, the important thing is you’re not anymore, in fact you, Jackson and Jo are pretty much my main tethers to sanity right now. And you don’t have to fight my battles for me, I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, I know but my barbarian big brother instincts come out, I have no control over them like you have no control over your passive aggressive little sister tendencies.” They grin at their somewhat similar personalities, “Seriously kid if you need someone to give him a kick in the ass he deserves I’m here to deliver. Just tell me when and where chief.”

Amber chuckles, “I appreciate that but I don’t want you to go to jail and repeat that damn period of your life again. You wouldn’t survive jail and I wouldn’t survive your wife’s wrath when she realizes this goes back to me giving you the kill codes.”

Alex nods understanding, “Yeah Jo looks sweet but she is a killer. The offer still stands, let me know when you change your mind.”

“I will but for now I am going to change, head home, watch Law and Order reruns with some of Jackson’s expensive scotch and then hit the sack. Send me any updates on Webber and Jackson, I’ll see you in the morning.”

That Night

Amber slumps on the couch in Jackson’s living room ready to pass out before she can visit her friend once he’s out of the woods. She feels less angry now and more worried about Jackson. When she was told someone was shot in the PRT her mind went into overdrive imagining every case where Jackson was the one who was shot. Most of those scenarios ended with him dead on the scene and her being forced to grieve her best friend who gave her a home when she had nowhere else to go.

The thought of losing someone she considers a brother shakes her to her core and makes her want to strangle that junkie that shot him. The fact that it was a junkie makes her even more furious because that could have been her father with a gun, holding up an ambulance for drugs not caring who he hurts. It felt like her dad was haunting her from the grave wanting to make her suffer again. She sips the expensive scotch Jackson keeps locked away in the liquor cabinet. She can taste nutmeg and citrus in the rich mixture making her grateful Jackson doesn’t skimp on the drinks. She discharged Wren after the trauma room with Jackson and she left knowing Amber is in a sour mood and needs to focus on work. Amber is too tired to check her phone for messages from Wren because she is still conflicted on whether to take her out or not. As she is about to reach for the remote a knock on the door stops her up. She groans at the bad timing but gets up and goes to the door. She looks in through the peephole and the sight of who is on the other side catches her by surprise. A second knock snaps her out of it and she opens the door. April Kepner is standing on the other side with a smile on her face carrying Harriet in a stroller. Her smile drops quickly when she sees it was Amber answering the door expecting Jackson instead.

Next Part Here

#greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #greysedit #greysanatomyedit #amber karev #andrew deluca #alex karev #jackson avery #april kepner #giacomo gianniotti #angst #surprise twist

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