#am I dying I don’t know it’s freaking me out I haven’t felt normal since I got my results

[shalvis]

I’m having ocd about my organs and nothing is helpinggggggggggg yaaaaaay

[elias-code]

The Swine’s Scribe

Characters: c!Technoblade x gn!reader, an appearance by Philza

Background: You're in Techno's cabin after getting the rest of his wolves from L’Manburg after the second war. You were originally rescued by Techno from a blizzard after running from the first L'Manburg explosion (your house was among those destroyed.)

Summary: When Techno gets back from the second L'Manburg war, he lets go of a lot of emotions by ranting to you. You, being concerned about his mental wellbeing, ask if you can do anything for him, and eventually, he kisses you, which leads to some close-calls with Phil and a whole lot of smut and fluff.

Wordcount: 3291 (according to google docs lmao)

Warnings: NSFW, swearing, blood/wounds, biting, getting caught

I REPEAT NSFW, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

-------------------------------- Enjoy :) ----------------------------------

Ever since Techno brought you in from the cold months ago, you've been doing little chores for him in a way to repay his kindness. Even though he was the one who summoned the withers after the initial explosions, you felt safe around him. It had been hard to get used to at first, but now you felt comforted by his presence.

For the past week, you've been writing his journal for him after he broke his hand sparring with Phil. His hand has since healed, but you insisted that you do it for him, and he put up little protest.

"It was stressful, seeing your friends leave like that, in the blink of an eye. I don't trust anyone anymore, not after Tommy betrayed me. I gave him a roof over his head, hid him from Dream, one of the most powerful people on the server, AND I trusted him with my Axe of Peace." Technoblade's tone was strained and he let out a huff.

"Techno," you empathised, "are you sure you're okay after today?"

"I'm fine, please keep writing." He only ever said please when he was really serious, clearly, he was not interested in talking.

"Now, I refuse to bow to the voices. They want blood and I won't let them. Too many allies have died for me or have disappeared onto the other side, only to reemerge when they need ME, never when I need THEM."

Again, you piped in, "Techno, you're clearly not ok," his pale skin was flushed red and his eyebrows knit together into a grimace, "If there's anything I can do to help, please tell me."

He went silent.

"You don't have to talk about it if it's really getting to you... Or you could let it out. Either way, I'm here to help," You said.

"I'll think about it. For now, keep writing,"

For another half hour, he ranted about the destruction of L'Manburg and his dramatic reenactment was accented by occasional yelling and hand gestures. Suddenly, he stops speaking and gets a puzzled look on his face, "Um, what- what's the correct phrasing for - I guess - 'horny for violence'?" The tips of his ears were bright red, matching the blush now forming on his cheeks.

You chuckle, "I think it's hungry for violence..."

"Ah, that's it," Techno states, and then he completed his recounting of events. There's a bubble of silence in the air and he bursts it by asking, "Do you have any thoughts?"

"You know my thoughts, Techno..."

"I think I know, but give me words, I can't read minds."

"You're not healthy, you need help. You need better friends and a proper support system. Right now you really only have Phil, and I guess me if I even count."

"You count."

Now it was your turn to blush, but you continue, "Either way, that's not enough! You deserve more than you're getting. I can tell that even without the things you've had me write down. You're carrying so much weight, Tech."

"I didn't know you cared," he seems touched by your words, "I suppose I don't know a whole lot about you."

"And yet, you trust me with your deepest, darkest secrets, Technoblade."

"One thing I can trust you to do is help me with my armour."

He was still wearing the enchanted netherite chestplate and pants, both of which you started fumbling with. The leather straps were clasped tightly, as to not come off in battle, but you managed to manoeuvre them enough to get them to let go.

As the chestplate was lifted off of him, he hissed and then grunted. You look at the spot his hand flew to on his back, where his shirt had torn to reveal a big gash in his shoulder. It ran from his shoulder blade to his left pec, one of the only places where he was unarmoured.

"Holy shit Tech, why didn't you tell me this was here?!"

"I didn't want to worry you," He chuckled and then hissed again, "I guess that plan failed."

You did not find it funny. You immediately went to get the supplies Phil kept in his house, knowing that Techno didn't keep anything but healing potions in his chests. Phil was eager to help and he handed some bandages and rubbing alcohol to you so you could clean the wound. You also grabbed a spare scrap of leather for him to bite down on.

When you returned, Techno had moved to sit on his bed where he had already removed the greaves and discarded them beside him. You came to his side, putting down the alcohol, rag, and bandage.

"This is probably going to hurt, so I need you to bite down on this," you said, handing him the leather scrap.

"Ok," he said, watching you grab the alcohol and rag from the floor, "Just- just tell me when,"

"Alright," He put the leather in between his teeth, biting lightly, "you ready?"

He nodded, you put the alcohol rag onto the blood-crusted gash. He let out a sharp, low hiss, tightening his jaw on the leather to release some of the pain. You cleaned up quickly to minimise the pain and then wrapped it in the bandage, leaving some so you could clean and replace it later.

"All done, you ok?" You looked at him, one of his eyes was watering.

"Yeah, the pain's much worse when you're not pumped full of adrenaline."

"You better not be hiding any more gashes under all of those clothes,"

"Wanna find out?" He flashed you a smirk, amused by his own confidence.

"I'll take your word for it, but you're going to need to change that shirt, it's covered in blood."

"At least it's not my blood," you shivered a bit at that remark and helped him take his shirt off, careful not to remove the fresh bandages along with it.

For the first time, you saw him without a shirt off. He seemed surprisingly slender for being as strong as he is. There were numerous scars that etched every battle and lesson learned into his skin. Lots of them looked older than you expected and you suddenly realised that he must have been fighting for a long time before coming to the server.

"Like what you see?" he asked, and you rushed to put the shirt down and find an excuse.

"Um, I- I was just looking at your scars, I'll bring this downstairs,"

You rushed away, turning bright red, embarrassed that he had noticed your stares. You absent-mindedly tossed the shirt into the 'wash pile' and then you remembered, in your rush, you had forgotten his greaves. With a huff, you climbed the ladder back to his room.

Techno sat in front of the fireplace, now roaring with renewed vigour from the log he'd tossed in. His pink hair had been undone from the messy braid he had put in that morning. It was almost dyed red and black by the blood and soot in it. He was playing with it, picking out debris and running his fingers through the more knotted bits.

“Tech?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you, still fiddling with the hair in his hands.

You sat down next to him and he relaxed into a cross-legged position, with one knee tucked under his chin. His free hand is right next to yours and he doesn’t look at you. His face is red, probably from the fire.

“You looked like you were in a trance? Are you ok?”

Silence filled the room again,"

“You don’t have to tell me but just know I’m here if you need to talk. Obviously, I haven’t tattled about anything yet or Tommy and the Butchers would be knocking your door down by now.”

“The voices are quieter than normal. I can hear myself think.”

You try to be encouraging “So? What are you thinking about?”

He looks you in the eyes, they’re deep, his pupils adjusting makes you feel like he’s looking into your soul.

“Um, I’m not sure you’d want to know.”

You frown and protest since you’re now more curious than ever but still a bit freaked out. "C'mon now you've got me curious,"

Techno looked away, solemnly gazing at the fire “I meant what I said about you being a trusted friend. I don't get many of those so, thanks. As for why this is coming up now, well, I guess I’m lonely.”

You hesitated, “Me too, Tech. You're kind of the only one I trust, and I guess Phil, too, but I'd trust you with my life.”

He blushes, looks away, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear before turning back to you and putting his hand on yours.

You immediately flush and you see a grin seep onto his face.

"I'm not really talking about friends anymore. I want... someone..." he almost whispers

"You mean?" he nods, "I guess I've never had anyone before. I think it'd be nice to see what it'd be like."

“I think we can kill two birds with one stone here, don’t you?”

Now you're both bright red, nervous, schoolkids who gingerly lean into each other's faces, gaze fixed on the other's lips. Your hearts beat hard while your brains rush to make sure you feel insecure, the voices in Techno's mind screaming excitedly.

“You good up there Techno? Your light is still on, it's far past midnight, mate!” Phil shouts from the bottom of the ladder.

“I’m fine, just," He pulls away from you, "reading. Goodnight Phil,”

Techno's ears perk up to listen to the receding footsteps. You’re both standing now, he's standing over the trapdoor, making sure Phil had gone. Once he was sure, he comes over and kisses you hard.

“Tech-"

“Is this ok? I’m not doing anything wrong am I?”

You think He’s clearly never done this before, as you respond "Yeah, I like it..." you continue, stumbling towards his bed where you’re initially just kissing like two teenagers as if it were your first time, desperate, but awkward.

Your hand was pressing against his chest as you laid next to him, tasting each other's spit, learning the ropes since neither of you had ever done this before.

The light from the fire made your shadows dance across the wall, arms moving to hold each other closer, legs wrapping around Techno's, bodies shifting so he's on top of you. Only the roar and crackle of the fire and the occasional grunt or gasp from you or Techno could be heard.

--- Smut begins here ---

As you both part to take a breath, he pulls your shirt over his head. When he leans into the crook of your neck, you notice the tent in his pants pressing against your inner thigh. In between your own legs, there was a pool of slick forming.

You moan, loud, fully knowing that would send Techno wild. He pushes further towards you and holds your arms above your head so he could press his mouth against your neck, leaving red, hot, sticky marks leading from your collarbone to your abdomen.

You're both panting as he lets go of your arms and you wrap them around his neck, pulling his head in for a long, deep kiss. His hot breath warms your cheeks as he repositions himself.

"Hey, is this still ok?" He asks between breaths.

"Abso-fucking-lutely,"

He fully loses himself, taking his hand from your cheek and moving it to your pants, never losing eye contact. You nod and he pushes his hand into the spot between your legs which was now drenched in slick. He found his way to your hole and pushed his index finger into it, creating a sensation you'd never felt before.

Instinctually, you gasp and then moan, harder than before. You rock your hips to his rhythm while he continues to press bruises into your torso. Eventually, he brings his face back to yours and kisses you. You let out another moan into his mouth. He grunts and then chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling his finger out and then going back in with two.

Now, you're whining, pulling on his long, pink hair. You notice everything in those moments, his rhythmic breaths into your neck and pumping of his finger in and out of your sex, his other hand holding your waist, pushing upwards to caress you, his soft hair in your hand.

"Is it my turn now?" He gruffs.

You hum in affirmation as he pulls away and you kick off your pants as he undoes his own. You immediately notice his size. Compared to his fingers, which were pretty long and thick, to begin with, due to his big hands, his member was a giant. His hand that had previously been half inside of you was now working his dick, its head coated in pre-cum.

While you had seen other penises before, mostly in study, you had never seen one up close, and you'd only seen ones on humans. The hybrid piglin-shapeshifter was sporting a human-like head and shaft, 9 inches (at least) all the way down to a knot... he had a knot...

He notices you gaping at his dick and grins, leaning into you again. "Wanna help me with this, or... should I help m'self?"

Eager to please, you lightly push him forward so you're both sitting up while your hand inspects the new acquaintance. You look up at Techno for guidance. He nods and pushes your hand down with his own. He guides your hand up and down the shaft until he’s no longer guiding you and you’re doing it all yourself.

He does the same with you. The space between your legs was now, simply put, slippery. He did his best to please you, eventually managing three fingers easily.

The pants and gasps were syncing, the knot in your stomach growing stronger while you danced your mouth on the head of his member. He lets out a particularly loud grunt and removes his fingers from your sex. You suddenly feel empty, and he pushes you over onto your stomach.

He puts himself under you, his dick under your mouth. You lick the ever-present pre-cum off of the head of his dick once again and then begin to bob your head up and down, managing to fit him halfway before choking on him. His groans were now louder than yours, becoming more frequent.

"Ughh- fuck," he moans.

Now he holds your head and gently begins to fuck your mouth. Your bobbing was no longer enough, he wanted more. He thrust his hips into you, managing to get a third of the way into you and then it turns into deepthroating after every thrust.

You gag, unable to take him all the way, and so he decides enough is enough and you both rush to get him inside of you. He gets up, moving to position himself above you. You continue to stay in the position he left you in, on your hands and knees.

"Turn around," Techno says.

And so you do, you lay on your back, full of anticipation and covered in juices. He puts his hand on your stomach, leaning in to kiss you lightly, pressing more red marks into your sides, slowly turning you so you face the wall.

He pulls away and holds your leg away from the other, practically putting you into the splits.

"Techno..." You whisper.

"Hmm?"

"Is this gonna hurt?"

"Dunno, darlin'," He leans in again, "let me know if it gets too hard, ok? I'll stop if you say so."

You nod and kiss for confirmation, reaching to hold your own leg up to give him full access.

He inserts the head and you can already feel the stretch, slightly painful but you push on, your fingers grasping the sheets to keep yourself grounded. He’s pushing into you slowly, making sure you're not getting in over your head. You hold the sheet tighter, groaning from the stretch.

He pulls out slightly and the pressure releases. You moan hard, making sure Techno knows that you like what you feel. He pushes in again and begins to thrust into you. Techno is getting further and further with every thrust, and you moan between every breath. He's three-fifths of the way in and he's only getting harder.

Techno's hand replaces yours, keeping your leg raised as you move your hand to work yourself along with him. Your heart beats faster and he picks up the pace. He can get all the way to the knot before pulling out and thrusting in again.

"Tech... Fuck, it's so gooood..."

Now he's becoming sparattic and his face goes into your neck, biting softly, barely enough for blood to form. The knot in your stomach tightens and you scream into the pillow as he pushes all the way in, his skin hitting yours as his knot slips into you.

He moans and thrusts lightly into you, coming inside of you. You feel the pressure inside of you release as you come with him. You're being filled with his sperm, eventually spilling out along with your own come onto the sheet.

He continues to work you with his hand, breathing heavily into your neck. Your heartbeats are in sync and his juices continue to spill out of you, soaking everything below you. You try to look him in the eye as he shakes slightly, somehow still coming.

"Tech? You're still..." you gasp. "I know, sorry... it might be a while..." He grunts out.

Techno's ears perk up and he shoves you under the blanket, still stuck inside of you with the knot.

"What-"

He puts a hand over your mouth as you quiver underneath him, overstimulated by the pressure and his hand which still rested in between your thighs. What the hell is he doing?! The non-stop cum is weird enough, what-

Soon enough, your questions were answered when you heard the footsteps downstairs.

“Do you have my hat?” Phil's voice yells from the base of the ladder.

“Can't you-" he breathes, "you get it in the morning?”

“No, I'm going out super early tomorrow to scout out and make sure we haven’t been followed back.”

“Uh," fuck "it’s on the chair next to my desk up here? I’m in bed…”

Phil comes up the ladder and opens the hatch, eventually finding his hat while techno covers your mouth and lays belly to belly with you, he’s still dribbling a bit, so are you. You’re whimpering slightly.

Phil stops at the trapdoor. “Did you mean to leave the fire on mate?”

“Uh, yeah I was gonna let it burn… I was cold”

“Where’s your friend, loverboy?”

You feel Techno blush above you, his warmth suddenly radiating out from him.

“Um. They went to trade with some piglins since we’re almost out of spectral arrows.”

“Alright let me know when they get back, I just want to make sure they’re ok. Ever since you found them in the snow you’ve been doing better, it seems. Almost like you two are a... thing?”

The question lingered momentarily and you could almost hear Phil's eyebrow raise before Techno answered.

“Hmm, thank you, Phil. Close the trapdoor when you leave, I don’t want the warmth to leave.”

“Alright.”

Finally, the footsteps were gone. He pulls the blanket off of them and he takes his hand off of your mouth. You gasp for dramatic effect, laughing quietly to yourselves at the close call.

"Can I tell you something?" Techno whispers into your ear.

"Yes, you're literally deep inside of me, I'm guaranteed to be interested in what you have to say,"

"I love you"

"I love you, too..."

[lexosaurus]

Going Angst Week 2021: Birth

I wrote a short five part fic for this year’s Going Angst Week! Fair warning as the event suggests, no one in this fic will make it out on top.

Chapter One: Birth

---

“Don’t think of it as a death, think of it as a sort of rebirth.”

That’s what Vlad had told him anyhow, after he discovered who—or rather what—Danny was at their college reunion. 

“Who were you before this? A nobody, right? Just some little hormonal fourteen year old from the weirdo family, unpopular and bullied. No real hobbies or activities to speak of, aside from…” Vlad’s red eyes pierced down at him. “Video games, am I correct?”

Danny diverted his gaze to the floor. Vlad’s aura only increased in amusement.

“But now,” the ghost continued. “Now you’re something else. Something different, more powerful. The world is your oyster, and all you have to do is reach down and take it.”

“I don’t know,” Danny finally spoke up. He had been hoping that speaking to the older halfa would begin to patch things up between them, but so far every word out of Vlad’s mouth seemed coated in poison.

He knew that deep down he shouldn’t trust a damn word Plasmius said, but Vlad was the only person in the world who he could relate to. And according to the Vlad, there was no one else like them in the Ghost Zone either.

“What is there to be afraid of, Little Badger? You’re a half ghost, you can do whatever it is that you want and nobody, nobody can stop you.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid.” Lies, lies, all lies. “It just doesn’t seem right, is all.”

Plasmius leaned down, forcing Danny’s eyes to meet his. He grinned, bearing his fangs at the boy, as if he could see through all the fear that Danny was desperate to mask.

“Oh Daniel,” Vlad said. “Your parents will never accept you. No good you do in your ghost form could ever convince them that ghosts aren’t all evil, that some are good, that you are good. Don’t you see?”

“No, you’re wrong. My parents will accept me. I just have to—”

“Oh, will they?” Vlad laughed. “Your parents? The same ones who’ve dedicated their careers, their lives to developing ecto-weaponry meant to kill our kind? The people who have written countless academic papers as to the dangers of ecto-life on Earth?”

“If I can show them that we’re not all bad, then maybe they’ll see.”

“Ah, so I bet that explains why you haven’t told them about what really happened in the lab, right? You just wanted to wait for the ‘right time’ to tell them. Foolish boy, don’t you know?” Vlad’s cocky tone died down, as did the power of his aura. In the first moment of sincerity Danny had witnessed from the older man, he turned to Danny and warned, “Your parents are too blinded by their ignorance to ever see the truth.”

---

Danny had been alone the day of the accident. He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he strapped on the hazmat suit (not before ripping off the Jack sticker), why he stepped in the portal, why he tried to figure out how to turn it on. Was it boredom? Teenage rebellion? Curiosity?

But delving into his reasoning was too little too late. Because the moment he tripped over the wire and hit the misplaced power switch, his life ended.

Literally.

Dying hurt. It was terrifying, waking up as something else entirely, and passing out all over again.

At first, he could almost pretend that he was okay. But then he woke up the next morning and felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

And then he fell through his bed, hitting the wood floor below his bed frame.

And then he dragged himself out and saw the extensive scarring on his arm.

And then he knew. That what had happened in the lab wasn’t just a fluke, that whatever the portal did had changed him forever.

That he wasn’t okay.

Still, he tried to carry on as normal. Eventually, the lightning scars snaking across his arm faded (even though they remained when he transformed), and the aching of his muscles subsided (but the coolness in his chest never went away), and his relative anonymity at his school meant that people hardly noticed a change in him (even though his two best friends seemed to hover more now than before).

Everything was going to be normal. Even if he wasn’t okay anymore. Even if he wasn’t human, even if he was...some monster.

What even was he?

“Danny?” Sam poked his shoulder. “Hey, space case? You haven’t touched your food. Are you okay?”

The world snapped into focus, and he realized that he was in the cafeteria at school with his untouched lunch tray splayed out in front of him. He couldn’t even remember getting out of bed this morning, much less making it all the way till lunch.

Regardless, he picked the cardboard excuse for pizza from his tray and took a bite, chewing slowly, and tried not to choke as he forced the food down his parched throat.

“I’m fine,” he said.

He’d been saying that a lot lately.

“We’ve been trying not to pry, but…” Sam looked helplessly at Tucker. “Danny, is...is something going on with you? You’ve just seemed off lately.”

“No, nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“You sure dude?” Tucker asked.

Danny set his school-issued pizza back down on his tray. “Guys, seriously. I’m your best friend. If anything happened, I promise you’d be the first to know. I’ve just been stressed about school, it’s nothing.”

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance, evidently not looking too convinced. Regardless, Sam gave him her best fake smile and a, “If you say so. Just know we’re here if you wanna talk.”

But he didn’t want to talk. They were human, he...wasn’t. They wouldn’t get it. They’d think he was a freak, they’d stop talking to him, they’d tell Jazz who would tell his parents who would kill him trying to save him.

No one could help him.

They finished lunch in silence, and then it was back to class where Danny managed to fall out of his chair twice and drop his pencil too many times to count. In biology class a glass microscope plate flew past his fingers, shattering against the tiled floor, and in English class when Lancer handed him papers to pass out he dropped those too, sending them scattered along the ground.

He saw the way Lancer peered at him as he stumbled to the ground, hands shaking as he desperately tried to grab the papers while everyone laughed at him. He felt cold—he was always cold since the accident—and he was sure that he looked just as much of a mess as he felt.

Mr. Lancer sent him down to the nurses office after that.

But he couldn’t go to the nurse because his heart rate was slower than a human’s and he didn’t need to breathe as much and he was so cold.

And he was fine.

So he took the hall pass and hid in the bathroom for the rest of the class period.

“Think of it as a rebirth,” Vlad had told him. 

Except Vlad was wrong. Danny wasn’t stronger now, he wasn’t more powerful. In fact, Danny Fenton had never felt more powerless, lost, and alone in his entire life.

If this was the start of a new life, then he was terrified to see what would follow.

---

next chapter>

[furiousgoldfish]

I haven't been writing a lot lately because my recovery has been taking a wild turn and in lack of anyone to talk to or therapy, I'll be writing about it here! I'll put it under a cut. There are some descriptions of recovery going very wrong, and also explanations of things I was wrong about.

So since the pandemic started I've been deteriorating badly, first I've been processing trauma extensively, having intense breakdowns and gradually it turned into depression from lack of stimulation, I've been completely alone for months without speaking to, or seeing anyone. I thought it was the isolation getting to me, and decided I just need to endure that, indulge in whatever coping I could and wait for it to end. And then things got worse.

Even as normally I was seeing some very slow progress in recovery; now it was going backwards; I was having less and less ability to get anything done, I wasn't able to force myself to do my job for months, I kept getting stuck in bed for weeks, chronic pain got so bad I couldn't move on most days. And, it only kept going worse.

My breakdowns stared to be about the present instead of the past; I couldn't handle being in pain all the time. As in before I would recover from a breakdown within a day or two, now it took 4 days to a week, and the trauma episodes would last for hours, so intense I'd find myself hoping I would die during it.

And then, I started losing all mobility and this seriously freaked me out. Everything above I've already experienced before, without long term consequences, but now my body was losing function in a way that felt permanent; I could no longer move for more than few minutes, and without extensive pain. Sometimes I would try to get up and end up collapsing and screaming from how much it hurt, I would move my arm and my whole body would experience a shock of intense pain. I was scared, I no longer knew what was going on, I was suspecting something more than ptsd was wrong. I've forced myself into physical activity, trying to fight this, I tried stretching, exercising, running, punching, and every single one of these activities made it incredibly worse. I thought I had broken my body by laying down too much. I no longer felt anything but terror and dread, and kept spiralling into scenarios of my own death; it felt inevitable, I wasn't going to survive without ability to move, nobody would take care of me.

I tried out medicine that helps relaxing, it had minimal effect. Then, in desperation to check if this was all ptsd, I attempted self harm, to see if it erases the pain. It did. It lowered the pain significantly It was a big relief, even though I wasn't happy with resorting to that, at least I could move around for a while, and I was grateful for that. Times couldn't be more desperate, and the measure felt fitting. I was still in a very bad shape, and the pain was only somewhat lessened.

It was about that time someone sent me the Complex PTSD book; I had wanted it for a while and immediately went to read it. I felt some relief reading it, and I was struck with the realization that I have not felt any relief in more than a year. It also surprised me with some of the exact descriptions of my behaviour, that I didn't realize was a symptom. I thought it was necessary and smart of me to live in hiding, to avoid interaction and never connect to anyone; it kept me safe. It turns out it's a regular freeze response to trauma; I got very called out for it. It also explains that a freeze response is what people use when anything else doesn't work, and it's true! I had been fighting, fawning and perfecting myself desperately prior to realizing that absolutely nothing helps, and froze to survive. It also described that freeze types are capable of surviving prolonged isolation because their brains produce hormones that relax the body as if they're going thru a moment before death; also true for me, I've been aware my brain does that, only I get that way too often, and it only helps me marginally because I'm too used to it.

Another thing I was very wrong about was my concept of my inner critic; I thought I had already won that battle, because I did not allow any voice in my head to criticize me (my alters can drag me affectionately), and I generally didn't experience a lot of shame or guilt for what I was going thru. The book describes inner catastrophizer, which is an extention of the critic, and it causes you to spral into extremely negative scenarios of your own demise. Now that.. was happening to me every single day, I saw myself dead around every corner. But I always thought my fears about that were perfectly reasonable. I had been tortured into suicidal state as a kid and nobody cared, I barely escaped with my life from there, I was living illegally, in hiding, without a normal job or regular income, without close friends or any family, with ptsd i couldn't get diagnosed for, without ability to work due to ptsd, in a capitalistic society where being able to work is only thing between you and dying. I had, by that point, gained many skills of survival, but it still felt very reasonable to fear that I would die if I don't get better soon.

The book described people who had families, jobs, social circles, friends and community, who spiraled into deep fear of becoming homeless and dying on the street; somehow their spiraling was exactly the same as mine, and it made me realize that it was, in fact, a symptom, and not reflection of reality. Because I was spiraling even when laying in my bed or eating or sleeping, knowing I could still afford rent for months because I arranged my life to allow myself to lay down a lot. I kept fearing my parents were coming to end my life, even when I arranged my entire existence specifically to prevent this from happening. And even if I was sick and without a real job, I had in fact, survived for 5 years after running away, I wasn't getting worse at it. My spiraling into death scenarios was a symptom of being trapped within a flashback.

The book guided me to try to challenge these fears, I immediately went for it, had a breakdown, screamed "I can't" for like an hour, had additional few breakdowns afterwards, and miraculously, recovered from them in only few hours. And then, I woke up from my flashback.

I won't describe what the flashback was, because it's too gruesome and horiffic, but it was in fact, bad enough to warrant every single bit of that pain I was experiencing, and a very convoluted, complex trauma. I was waiting to be killed in that flashback. Whats concerning is, I've been trapped in that same flashbacks for more than a year. After I broke my way out of it, it felt like I woke up to being alive for the first time in years. I got out being frozen in bed.

For 5 amazing days, I was able to do whatever I wanted. Chronic pain? I didn't know her. It was absoluely exhilirating to get to move again, I was not getting tired either, I was out there making up for months of doing nothing and I was not collapsing at any point. I felt actual joy again, and hope, and being free from pain was so extremely good, that alone made me ecstatic. I was able to create, to be organized, to take care of myself, to follow a checklist, to focus, I was a Normal Person for those 5 days.

And then, predictably, I was getting back stuck in that flashbacks and my levels of terror and dread spiked again. I went to re-read the book, and it took me a few days to really figure it out again, I don't know exactly how the book works on me, I feel like it says just the right keywords to trigger me into realizations and causes breakdowns that set me free. I found myself able to stop some spiraling, but sometimes I can't, that flashback holds immense power over me and is actually mixed with 10 other near-death scenarios that are too extreme for me to process, so this will keep happening. I did break free again, and got to experience additional few days of movement and happiness; I also started working extensively with my child alter, who was until recently extremely suicidal and dangerous to work with.

I am still kinda lost in all of this, and unsure whats going on, but I do believe I wont get trapped in a flashback again for a whole year. I became so anxious and helpless due to isolation, I forgot how to fight trauma, I forgot I actually had to do it. I used to do it constantly in the beginning, but it had made me suicidal back then to face all this, so I tried to just let it heal naturally, which I believed would eventually happen; but it didn't, I got trapped and suffered without knowing how to get out. I also believed my own spiraling was a reflection of reality and not trauma, and that fueled it a lot.

It explains very eloqently in the book how inner catastrophizing comes from being massively neglected; children who are not looked after start to realize just how unprotected they are, so their own sense of danger becomes hypersensitive and starts to lock on possible dangers everywhere. This is then further aided by media that points out every possible bad thing that could happen to a person, and the child who isn't guided by adult who could actually make a reasonable distinction between real and unlikely danger, will clock it all as absolute possibilities and be on alert. It's also fueled by the line of disasters and dangers that happen to them in the context of their own home, and for me, the strongest factor was my parents constantly convincing me that I would die without them. Even though I proved this wrong, and understand they did it precisely because they knew there was a lot of survival ability in me and that's why they worked so hard to destroy it, the fact that it was brainwashed into me under circumstances of torture still makes it impossible for me to fight it.

Maybe one day I will be able to.

I'm writing this because writing things down helps to make sense of it all, and I need to find my way thru this. I also hope someone else will see themselves in what I'm describing and it will help them find a way forward. Complex ptsd is the only book I found that speaks from the point of view of a person who survived cptsd, healed from it, and had so much experience with other traumatized people they're able to draw parallels and create patterns and statistics out if it, it was that more than anything that convinced me of their words, and gave me hope. The book also warns many times of how essential it is to reduce inner critic and catastrophizer before getting other recovery work done, other therapy might only do further harm before this work is done. It was true for me.

If you wanna read this book, here's a post with the links!

[mister-supernova]

Missed Connection

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader 

It’s almost been a month since your encounter with the stranger you believed to be from your dreams. Without any luck of seeing her again, you were beginning to think that maybe that’s all she was; just some mere figment of your imagination that you so desperately wanted to have all the answers you needed. 

As insufferably difficult this summer was for you, you still managed to get through it. You thought it was because school wasn’t in session and that you’d be back in your element in no time once classes begin again. 

That was what you had hoped for anyways, but alas even when the halls were filled with your peers and your routine was back in place, nothing seemed to change. The mysterious void in your chest didn’t ease like you wished it would.

You couldn’t help but wonder if your friends had been feeling the same way, too. Surely there’s no chance that you could be alone in this situation, right? 

“You can’t tell me that things haven’t felt a little weird since Landon destroyed Malivore. He doesn’t even know how it happened, Lizzie.” 

The blonde Saltzman nearly whips you in the face with her hair as she abruptly turns to face you in the crowded hallway. “Y/n, we live in a world where witches, werewolves, and vampires exist. Everything in our lives is bound to have a tiny amount of weirdness.”

She made a good point and you knew that, but you also knew that this feeling was different. It had to be. 

Lizzie frowns at the disappointed look on your face and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Look, the most important thing is that Malivore is gone. No more bizarre monsters coming to kill us every week. Now try to stop overthinking things and let’s get through this school year in peace.”  

Before you knew it, your conversation ended just as quickly as it started and Lizzie was on her way back to class. You hang your head with a defeated sigh, desperately searching the hallway for someone who may be just as lost as you were. Instead, you see everyone going about their first day back like normal. 

Students who were away with their families are now smiling brightly as they reunite with friends. Other groups of friends laugh at a joke another says as they pass you by and you wonder if there was someone you should be doing that with.

The clarity that you sought out today only made you more confused than ever. At this point you wished that it was still summer vacation because seeing your classmates having a great first day back had you thinking that you really were alone with your feelings.  

Maybe you just needed a day to hang out with your friends after class today. They may not share your thoughts on how odd things have felt recently, but being around them definitely helps clear your head. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. You know Landon and I would be down to watch a movie or something, but we’re going on our official first date today.” Josie tells you, disheartened. 

After the multitude of movie dates the two of them shared throughout the summer, you’re surprised that none of those had been labeled as dates, but you weren’t going to tell her that outloud. The two of them seem to be really happy to be spending so much time together and you weren’t going to get in the middle and be the third wheel no one wants, especially on a first date. 

“No worries, Jo. I’ll ask Lizzie and MG if they’re free.” She gives you a gentle squeeze on your arm with a sympathetic smile before you go off to find her sister. 

Things didn’t seem to be going to plan here either.

“If I hadn’t already agreed to this stupid- I mean,” she grits her teeth with a forced smile, “very cool study date with MG I’d totally hang out with you. God knows I’d rather do anything else.” You knew you weren’t supposed to hear that last part, but Lizzie was always awful at lowering her voice. 

If you weren’t already feeling distraught, this definitely was the cherry on top of your depressing cake of sadness. 

Instead of showing Lizzie that, you plastered the fakest smile you could and responded with, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just… hang out downtown and get myself a milkshake at the Grill or something.” 

Plan “get your friends to distract you from the abrasive thoughts penetrating your brain” had failed, but you weren’t going to let it stop you from at least getting out of the school for a couple of hours. With everyone so busy while classes are back in session, it made you wonder what in the world you did after school before this year. 

As much as you tried hyping up how fun it was going to be hanging out downtown by yourself, it only made you feel even more bummed out. Like everything else you’ve been doing since the night Malivore was destroyed, something felt off and nothing seemed to be your remedy.

Minutes turned to hours and you ended up drinking four full glasses of cookies and cream milkshakes at the Grill, literally falling into a sugar coma at your table outside. The sun was barely setting when you got here, but then it was fully dark out when you were woken up from your sugar rush nap. 

“Jesus, Y/n. I thought you were dead or something.” You lean your head upwards to see that it was Landon who woke you from your slumber. 

“One could not be so lucky, phoenix boy.” You groggily respond, stretching out your muscles and wiping any drool from your cheeks.

Looking at your surroundings, you notice that Josie isn’t around. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” 

There’s a pained look on Landon’s face at your question, “Yeah, about that… she, uh, she said she wasn’t feeling too good and decided to go back to the school.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “What, did you take her to eat sushi or something?” 

That was meant to be a joke, but the look of realization on the curly-haired boy’s face told you all you needed to know. 

“You went to a sushi place.” 

Landon quickly slides into the seat across from yours, “It’s what I suggested. W-Was I not supposed to?”  

“Jo can’t digest any sort of raw food without wanting to convulse. I learned that the hard way when I first started going to the Salvatore school,” you shiver at the memory, “Never again.” 

The phoenix begins falling into a full state of panic, “Oh my God. I didn’t know that! Wh-What am I supposed to do? What if I completely ruined everything? What if she never wants to go on another date with me again? What if-” 

Your patience was thinning very quickly, “Landon, just relax. Take a breather for a second,” you inhale, watching him do the same, and breathe out at the same time, “Go back to the school, check up on her, have a convo about getting some better communication skills and I’m sure everything will be fine.” 

Landon nods, “Okay, okay yeah. That’s good. I’ll, uh, I’ll do that,” he continues to sit across from you until you look at him expectantly, “Do I do that now?”

“For your sake, Josie’s, and especially mine, yes. Now would be great, buddy.” 

“Right, okay. Thanks, Y/n!” He scrambles out of his seat and begins to shuffle away from the Grill. 

“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You shout with as much enthusiasm you could muster before slumping back into your chair. 

Still dazed from the sugar rush nap and exhausted from that conversation, you lean forward with your elbows on the table and begin wiping the sleep from your eyes using the palms of your hands.

“This is gonna be one hell of a year.”  

“Long day, huh?” You recognize that it’s a girl’s voice you’re hearing, but not one that was familiar to you. 

Moving your hands away from blocking your view, you look up to see the person you convinced yourself was just a figment of your imagination. The long auburn colored hair, fair-skinned, blue eyed girl from your dreams was standing right before you. For a moment, you thought that maybe you really had lost it. 

“Sorry. I just, I saw you sitting here earlier and thought you might want company.”

You’re almost positive that you were staring at her with your mouth hanging open like an absolute idiot. Just say something, dumbass!

“Mind if I join you?” She asks, gesturing towards the now empty chair that Landon left behind. 

“Yes!” 

Idiot! 

“I mean no! No, I uh, I don’t mind.” You chuckle nervously, adjusting yourself in every way possible to hide the fact that you were internally freaking out.

The girl gives you a patient smile before taking the seat in front of you, “So, party of one tonight, huh? I mean, I saw you finish talking to someone right now, but it didn’t seem you two were here together.” 

“Yeah, no. Not together at all or with anyone really,” for some reason you had to make this very clear to her, “That was just a friend of mine who’s having some lady troubles, so I decided to be a good samaritan and give him some positive advice.”

“How chivalrous of you.” Right away you could tell that she was teasing and the nerves you had seconds ago simply began to vanish. 

“Why thank you,” you smile, feeling a wave of warmth when she returns one back, “But yeah, it’s just been me, myself, and I for the night… and day… and probably for the rest of the school year if I’m honest.”

Her smile fades and she tilts her head inquisitively, “What makes you say that?” 

Oh, where to begin. 

“I’ve been asking myself that for a while now actually. Everything should feel perfect given the fact that I have these amazing friends, I go to this incredible school, I’m 100% healthy and not dying of anything that I know of,” you shrug at yourself, “I should be happy with that, but I’m not. It feels so selfish of me to say and I wish I could fix it, but I can’t. How can everything be so close to perfect, but yet there’s still something wrong?” 

The girl stares at you with such empathy and sadness in her eyes that you could swear she was holding something back. 

You continue, “Things also haven’t felt normal lately. My definition of normal anyways. For some reason everything has felt completely off, like I’m missing something. You know when you forget that there’s somewhere you’re supposed to be? Like an event and you don’t realize you’ve forgotten about it until the day of and you say to yourself, ‘oh shit, I can’t believe I forgot about this really important thing’. That’s how I’ve felt ever since summer started,” you notice her tense up slightly, but you continue, “but I can’t remember what I’m forgetting.”

At this point, you were surprised this girl didn’t think you were crazy and start running for the hills. If this were any normal stranger, you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to overshare the thoughts you’ve been keeping secret from your close friends. For some reason, she made you feel the complete opposite. Strangely enough--given the world you live in--you felt safe with her.

“Everyone at school is making me feel like I’m the only person who feels this way. Everyone else can go back to normal. Everyone else can move on and go on dates and study dates and hang out with their friends and go to class without feeling lost and overall just be… normal.” You finally let go of the breath you had been holding in for what feels like months.

Then you start to laugh at the ridiculousness that just spewed out of your mouth, “Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry. You probably thought you were going to have an innocent ‘nice weather we’re having’ type of conversation, but instead you got a stranger dumping their whole life crisis onto you.” 

“You really don’t have to apologize. Trust me, I understand how insanely messed up life can get and how relieving it is to just vent it all out,” she gives you a reassuring nod with a genuine look of understanding that you’ve been wanting to see for months, “Even if it’s to someone who can potentially be a serial killer.” 

The both of you burst out into a fit of laughs and you swear that you’ve never felt so connected to a person you just met. It was as if your souls had met in another life and were catching up for the first time in a while. Neither of you had a name to place with your faces, but that didn’t seem matter because you already felt like you’ve known this girl for years. 

“I’ve had quite a rough couple of months myself. Not sure if I’d binge drink four cookies and cream milkshakes to numb the pain though.” 

You shrug, “Well, it’s better than the latter option that I can’t even legally purchase because I’m underage. Plus, it helps that these are the best milkshakes in town--even if they are 4 dollars a glass.” 

Now you’re hoping that your old co-worker can cover your bill since you only brought ten dollars with you tonight. Before you could reach for your wallet just to be sure, another thought crossed your mind. 

“Wait. How did you know they were cookies and cream? I know it’s a lot of milk to force inside by body, but I normally leave no trace of evidence behind. Are you a witch or something?” That last part was obviously a joke otherwise she’d be at your school by now.

The girl opens her mouth to speak, but it takes her a moment to come up with an explanation, “It was my best friend’s favorite. Yeah, we used to go out for milkshakes all the time and I guess something about you reminds me of them.” 

You smile, flattered, “Well, might I say, your best friend has amazing taste,” she purses her lips into a tightened smile and lowers her gaze, almost as is the memories of this said ‘best friend’ pained her to think about, “I’m assuming things aren’t so great with them right now?”

She sighs at the thought, “We were close for a long time. I’m actually surprised that they stayed as long as they did. I probably gave them a million reasons to bail, but they were annoyingly persistent,” she chuckles, “I’ll admit, it took me a while to settle into our friendship, but the moment I did was something I would never regret. From that point on the only thing that could separate us was death.” 

Judging by her heavy use of past tense words, you could only think the worst happened, “Did they, you know, um…?” You didn’t want to ask the full question seeing that she was clearly still hurt by the absence of this person. 

She shakes her head, “No. No, it turned out death wasn’t the only factor that was able to keep us apart. We meant a lot to each other and later realized that there was more to us than just friendship. Eventually, things started becoming serious but me being the person I am, I pushed them away and left.”

“Have you tried reaching out to them again?” You thought that there was no way two people who felt those intense feelings could completely forget about each other.

“Once, but things changed. They took one look at me and acted as if I never existed.” Maybe it was the empath in you, but it broke your heart seeing a small pool of tears building up in her eyes. You wished that you could say something to make her feel better and tell her that everything will be okay, but how could you when you don’t know her?

She quickly wipes the tears before they could fall and takes in a deep breath that you instinctively mirrored to compose yourselves. 

“I guess it’s my turn to say sorry, huh? I feel like my baggage was a little heavier than yours there,” she sniffs, huffing out a light chuckle. 

“Well, if we’re giving out medals here, you’ve got the gold. That’s for sure,” you grin, hoping to lighten up the mood.

Her laugh--that you could tell was genuine--gave you the assurance you needed. 

“I feel like I should give you a hug. I mean, if you’re cool with that,” you suggest, ready to push yourself out of your seat, “Because I could kind of use one and I’m just assuming--” 

“That would be great, yeah,” the girl nods with a relieved smile. 

“Alright, great.”

The two of you stand, moving around the table to meet each other in the middle. Her head seemed to fit perfectly against your chest as her arms pressed behind your back. All of the weight that had been piling up on your shoulders began to fall at your feet and the tension from stress that built up inside your chest began fading away. How this could happen from an interaction with a complete stranger, you had absolutely no idea. 

“Is it weird if I say this doesn’t feel weird?” You ask with the side of your head leaned against hers. 

“Well, I think things are only weird when someone makes it weird.” 

You pause for a moment, “Do you think this feels weird?”

She laughs and you know for a fact that she could hear your heart skip a beat, “No. I don’t.”

You fight the goofy grin from appearing on your face, but fail miserably, “Okay, good.” 

Part of you was afraid of what’ll happen the moment you separate. You had no idea when would be the next time you see this girl or if there was going to be a next time. This was the first day in a while when you didn’t feel lost, instead you felt that this was exactly where you needed to be. You felt normal.

Before you could actually start making things weird, you begin to pull away from her embrace, “Well, tonight I learned that I can click with a stranger within a span of ten minutes give or take, so thank you for that.”

She smiles, “Thank you, too.”

“I think it’s safe to say that we’re at the point of learning each other’s names now.” 

“Yes, because why start with those when we could just tell our whole life stories and share an intimate hug first?”

“Exactly! Actually, you know what? I think we should get married in Vegas really quick and we’ll just figure out our names during the vows section of the wedding ceremony. Whatever we come up with in the moment will just be how we refer to each other for the rest of our lives,” you joke. 

“You’re absolutely right.” Wow, a girl who can keep up with your sarcasm without thinking you’re a complete--huge emphasis on complete--idiot? She is the girl of your dreams--literally and metaphorically. 

You stared down at her in wonder, hoping to God that you’re not dreaming and that this interaction has been real, “It’s, uh, it’s Y/n by the way. My name. Y/n L/n.” 

“Hope. Hope Marshall,” she reveals and a victorious smile appears on your lips when you finally have a name to match a face. 

Your smile quickly drops when the clock tower starts going off and you realize that it’s nearly midnight, “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you tonight, Hope. I'm sorry to cut the rest of the evening short, but my school just got a new headmaster and unfortunately he’s a lot more strict on our curfew than our previous one. Don’t want to turn into a pumpkin, you know?” 

She chuckles, “No worries at all. It was nice meeting you, too, Y/n,” Hope smiles and you can tell that she didn’t want to leave. If you were being honest, you really didn’t want to either. 

Neither of you could find the energy to be the first person to walk away. To do that would be like trying to separate two annoyingly strong and stubborn magnets apart.

As much as you wanted to spend the whole night learning more about each other, you also didn’t want to be put in detention on the first day back at school. 

Unwillingly, you take the first step backwards without wanting to fully turn away from your newfound acquaintance, “Thanks again for the chat. I hope to see you again very soon, Marshall.”  

Hope rolls her eyes, but can’t contain a smile, “Only if you’re lucky.”

“I think I like my chances,” you wink playfully before turning your heel to make your way back to the school feeling the most energized you’ve felt in a long time.

~

apologies for the later update than usual with this series and I apologize in advance if it takes a while for part 6 to be posted. I’m in a bit of a writing funk right now and my mind is currently locked onto the Wilds soooo there may or may not be imagines for that fandom coming from me soon. anyways, happy late 2021 and here’s to hoping this year isn’t complete shit! much love y’all

taglist: @chicken-wang09​ @trikruismybitch​ @sodangtired​

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver ch.6

Here we go with chapter 6. I edited but if you see any typos I am sorry I had a long day at work.

During the call they attend in the chapter they mention a substance called ANFO. Click here for more info. I did some research hopefully it makes sense. I am no an expert but I needed something for the scene.

Our two idiots... well, I hope you will be happy (for now) *evil laughter*

I hope you will enjoy the chapter

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

Three months later.

Rowan landed back at the airbase in the morning. The carrier had docked on the coast a few hours earlier on and then they had flown back to the base with their jets.

He got off his plane and smelled the air of home. Winter had given way to spring and he could smell flowers and wondered if the kingsflames were in bloom already.

“Damn it feels good to be back.” Shouted Gavriel getting off his jet and stretching his back “I am dying for a very long relaxing bath. And peace, without you idiots annoying me.”

“Oh yeah,” said Fenrys “Not having to hear Connall and Vaughan snore will be so good.” He turned to Rowan and Gavriel “Not everyone has the rank to get their own quarters.”

Rowan pretended not to hear the youngster and started walking around his aircraft to do his post-flight checks. He had enough of their bickering and of Fenrys moaning in general.

“Guys.” He bellowed “Less talking and do your post-flight checks.”

“Someone is grumpy.” Added Fenrys.

Connall slapped him on the back of his neck “don’t anger the man even further. Now shut up and do your job. I am so tired of your voice.”

Rowan silently thanked Connall for putting his twin in place.

Once he was done, Rowan grabbed his duffel bag and went to the changing room and took a shower. He would take a proper one at home, for now he just wanted to remove some dirt from him.  

The changing room was busy and he opened his locker with a sigh. He definitely needed peace and quiet and not to be in close quarters for a while.

“I am so looking forward to my month off.” Commented Gavriel “and decent food. I want to sit down for a meal for more than ten minutes.” Then he turned to Rowan “Any plans?”

“Not really.” He shrugged.

“Are you going to see your captain?”

“I don’t know.” He said quickly. He did his best to put her out of his mind during those months away. To ignore those pesky feeling that had been taking root in him even while far away from her. He had hated how he left her and throwing himself into work had been the best way to try and forget. But now he was back and he felt as if he was stuck.

He put his uniform back on and grabbed his stuff “Just stay out of trouble,” he told them before leaving the room.

While walking to his office he pulled his mobile out of the bag, switched it back on and a barrage of notifications hit him and two voicemails awaited him. The first one was from Aelin and she was mad at him. How could he blame her. He had disappeared without a word. How could he even begin to apologise? When he listened to the second and a glimmer of hope appeared in front of him. She wanted to talk. He grabbed his stuff and blitzed out of the airbase. The taxi he had called arrived ten minutes later and once at the station he paid the driver and got off, his duffel bag on his shoulder. An array of emotions passed through him while he moved the first step in the direction of the firehouse, panic being at the top of the list.

He lifted his sunglasses on his head and took in the scene in the distance. Two fire engines were parked in front of the yard. Aelin and the rest of the team were washing them, the day was sunny and mild so the perfect occasion. He chuckled and noticed that she was standing. She was walking normally and he sighed. Rowan found himself staring at her walking around the truck and shouting orders. She was just as stunning as he remembered her. He missed her. He realised in that instant looking at her from far away that somehow, although there was nothing but vitriol between the two, he just missed her. Was his heart actually racing?

Aelin lifted her gaze for one instant and in the distance on the pavement she noticed a tall figure with silver hair. She squeezed the sponge and threw it in the bucket, then stood and marched to him doing all her best to maintain her cool to try and pass as aloof and not minimally interested that he was back. A lie to herself she struggled to believe.

“I am back safely.” He said when she was close enough.

“Well, at least you can do your job well enough to stay alive.” Her tone was hard and unforgiving.

Of course she was still mad at him, what was he expecting?

“Follow me.” She turned around and began walking back inside the station and Rowan knew she was headed for her office. Better have some privacy, he had a feeling he was not going not enjoy the conversation.

“Sit,” she ordered, once inside her office and he complied like a good soldier.

She moved around the desk and plopped on her chair.

“Aelin I—“

“No, you don’t get to go first,” annoyance quite thick in her voice “You left.” She sat up straight “you left me at the hospital and left again three days later for your mission and neither time you bothered to tell me why. You left.” She searched for his gaze and looked at his pine green eyes “Do you have any idea how I felt when I fully woke up and found out you never got back?” She told him unleashing all the anger she had bottled up while he was away “I went to your airbase and I was told by one of the guards that you all had gone for a week already.” She was not shouting but her tone was full of annoyance toward him.

Rowan had thought over and over again how he could apologise to her, but doing so it would mean reveal his secret and he was not sure he could. He should expose his fears and come clean with her, she had lost, just like him, she would understand his struggle.

Eventually he stood and started pacing “I heard what you said in the hospital… about your feelings. And I panicked.” He stopped for a moment “I freaked out because…” he collapsed on the chair, his head in his hands and Aelin knew exactly why but she had to hear him say it.

He had to do it, be a little braver and tell her why he fled, it was his only chance if he even contemplated the idea of being with her or to have any kind of relationship.

“I am scared of getting involved again.” He sighed deeply and Aelin saw pain in his eyes “Over a year and a half ago I lost my wife.” He confessed and Aelin gripped her hands under the table to avoid crying. “She died in a car crash. It was winter and the roads were bad and she just… lost control of the car according to the police.” He looked away for a second “Lyria was also pregnant.” His voice trembled for a moment. “I was away. I was on the other side of the continent when it happened. I left my pregnant wife alone.”

Aelin’s eyes became wet all of a sudden.

“She was going to leave me.” He admitted painfully and Aelin almost gasped at the unexpected ammission “a few days before I left I was looking for something for her in her drawer and saw the papers. She had all the documents ready to file for divorce, my signature was the only thing missing. She had also a letter from her lawyer saying that she would win full custody of our child since, because of my job, I was not fit to look after a child. I would probably win to see my child from time to time.” He stood again “I never told her that I had found out. I left for my mission and she didn’t even come to the airbase with me as she used to do in the past.” He ran his hand through his hair “I loved her. But apparently not enough.” He stopped again as if to gather his thoughts “I got a short compassionate leave and when I got back I just threw myself into work. It kept my mind busy. Since then I haven’t been with anyone.”

“I know.” Aelin whispered and he look at her in a strange way”About the accident, I mean.” She said softly.

“One day I was curious and I looked you up.” She stood and went around the table and sat at the front, facing him. No barriers between them “I read about your wife. Then I read the article about her accident.” She hoped she was not to mess up this one “I recognised our engine in one of the photos from the article.

His gaze widened.

“My team and I attended the accident.” And stared at him but his expression was illegible “It was bad. Only one person survived that night. I had nightmares about it for a week. She… your wife… I think she did not suffer much. I know it’s not much consolation, but from the dynamics it was probably instantaneous.”

Rowan looked at her and she saw tears in his eyes.

“I still have the file.”

“No.” He said calmly “I don’t think I can.”

She took a step to him and took his hand in hers “I know the pain” it was time for her confession. It was only fair.

Rowan looked at her and remembered about the man she had lost.

“His name was Sam. He was a firefighter and a captain at west station. I lost him over a year ago. He attended a call. We could not assist straight away because we were busy on another one. Once we were done we ran in their help. I was too late.” She buried her face in her hands “when I got there they were just carrying his body outside the building.” She looked at him “he did not die a nice death. He suffered and I was not there. I was too late to help him.” She squeezed his hand “I know your pain and your fears because they are the same as mine.” She took another step toward him “losing Sam almost destroyed me. I can’t go through that a second time.”

“How do you get out of the abysm?” He asked tenderly, both with eyes moist.

“One step at a time.” She added and her body was now almost close to his.

Rowan hesitated for an instant then his arm reached out and pulled her closer “Together, then” he whispered, leaning his chin on her head “we can try together.”

“Yeah…” she whispered, her hands against his chest “I am sorry I was mad at you.”

“Shhh… I deserved it.”

She leaned closer and inhaled his scent of pine and snow. He always smelled of home.

“I am sorry I was always so mean to you. I think I was just trying to push you away and keep my distance.”

Aelin smiled and with her fingers brushed his name tag “I think we both did our best to show our unpleasant side.”

She felt him tighten his arms around her “Can we please not? I don’t mean not fighting because I have a feeling that we might get into a few fights from time to time. I mean stop being actually nasty to each other.” He admitted and she felt his thumb tracing circles on her back “whatever this is… I want to give it a go. If you are okay of course,”

She looked up at him and saw a faint smile that reached his eyes. Even with a small smile the man was stunning. She didn’t want to think about with a proper smile.

“Yeah. I want to. I am still terrified, though.”

“That makes two of us.”

“So, where do we start, captain?”

“You owe me two so what about we start with me taking you out for dinner and then we move from there?”

Aelin chuckled “Do you have your mortgage ready?”

He smiled. He gave her an actual real smile and Aelin had to restrain her instinct to slam him against the door and have her way with him.

“The bank apparently does not offer mortgages to pay for meals.” He pulled back a bit to look at her “are you free tomorrow night? I am on my month off so I am totally free.”

Aelin nodded “yes, we will be coming off night shift around 9am. I can go home, sleep and I will see you at night.”

“I still have your address. Can I pick you up at seven?”

“I think I will be alive again by that time.”

“What do we say to our friends if they ask?”

“None of their business.”

He looked down at her “I like it.”

They pulled apart and Aelin went back to sitting on the desk and him on the chair “So your knee is okay again?”

“Yes, physio was a bitch but it’s getting better. The guys, as a joke, gave me kneepads.”

She saw him smile and she realised she would say all sort of stupid things to see that reaction in him. The result left her breathless.

“And you performance review?”

She gave him the biggest grin ever “We crushed it. Absolutely nailed it and I am so proud of my team”

“I had no doubts.” He leaned back on the chair “and I see that you got another engine. That must be great news for you guys.”

She nodded “we got it two weeks ago. It was all thanks to the protest after the embankment fire. Dorian pushed and he got it.” She took a pen and tapped it on her knee “we still don’t have a full team, so at the moment we use it if  the situation requires it and we split our team and Aedion leads it. It’s not optimal but the team is coming,” she explained “west is giving us half of their experienced team in their second truck and they are taking half rookies so we’ll both have a truck of mixed crews. Again, not the best but we can’t have an engine with all newbies.”

“That is wonderful.”

“You interview helped as well. The one outside the hospital.”

He looked away for a moment “they made me so mad. Giving all the credit to us when we did very little. I had to.”

“Thank you.”

In that instant the dispatch alarm went off.

“Shit.” She jumped off the table “Don’t go anywhere. There’s a tv, a kitchen. Stay here.”

He nodded and grabbed her hand “Be safe, please.”

She nodded and ran outside.

“There you are. You are the last one here.” Joked Aedion while they were both getting ready.

“She was with her captain.” Added Ansel with a wicked smile.

“Uh, getting nasty in the office?” Added Brullo.

Aelin opened the door and jumped in the engine at her seat “stop behaving like children and jump in the bloody truck right now.”

“Aedion, you lead the second one. ”

Rowan noticed the two engines and the ambulance drive away and once they were away he wandered around the empty space.

He walked around the deserted station and tried to discover more about that interesting team. He walked back the same way as her office and found a corridor that lead to their beds. On a wall there were pictures of the whole team. He stared at Aelin’s picture. She had the most beautiful grin and it was so like her. He smiled at her and traced his step back to the resting area. He sat on the sofa and switched on the tv and on the news he saw a raging fire as breaking news and he guessed that’s where they were going. The headline quoted a fire in an explosive warehouse near a quarry. It looked terrifying.

“Aedion,” said Aelin over the radio “we are going to the warehouse near the quarry. Explosives. This is your kingdom.”

“I saw it.  Dispatch confirmed west is coming as well. It must be bad for four engines.”

They arrived at the site five minutes later.

Aelin jumped off the truck “Fuck.” Was her first reaction at the scene in front of them.

In the distance she heard the evacuation sirens for the quarry. West station arrived a moment later.

The fire was raging. Luckily the warehouse was near a quarry and away from inhabited areas, that at least was a start.

She saw a man with a high visibility jacket and ran to him.

“Captain Galathynius.” She introduced herself.

“Captain. I am the manager.” He explained “We evacuated the quarry in time as soon as we heard the first explosion. The warehouse team was loading a new load of explosives to be sent to the quarry. Something must have gone wrong. We lost contact with the team in the north wing where we store the explosives.”

Aedion arrived a moment later “what are we dealing with?”

“Mostly ANFO.” Replied the manager “it was meant to be moved.”

“Do you store any other agent or fuels?”

The manager nodded “but in a separate section. Something must have gone wrong while carrying it away. ANFO must have been in contact with any of the other fuels we use. ANFO is just an oxidiser” the manager explained and Aedion nodded aware of how ANFO worked.

“How many people do you have in the warehouse?’ Asked Aelin trying to assess the situation.

“About 60 and I have 40 accounted for.”

“We’ll get them out.” She said. Grabbed Aedion’s arm and walked away.

“Still twenty people inside. You are the expert. What are the chances I can send the team in and make it out alive?”

“Heat will cause ANFO to detonate. The fire is spreading qui—“

Another savage explosion ravaged the area. The blast so strong that the aftershock was felt quite a distance away. Aedion had pulled Aelin down on the ground and when they lifted their heads they noticed the rest of the team had done the same.

“Thomas,” she shouted while standing up “Connect to the water supply and get the water going and keep the temperature down as much as you can.”

He nodded and spurred his team into action.

“Aedion, you and I are going in.”

The man nodded.

“Luca, Brullo, keep the water going as well. We need to cool down the place as much as possible.” Then she walked to Thomas “Aedion and I are going in. There are still twenty people trapped. We’ll see if we can do something. Call dispatch and order all the units they can send in.”

“You can’t be serious.” The other captain protested “Dorian will not be happy.”

“I am.” she said finishing to don her gear fully “we’ll se you on the flip side. Keep the water coming.”

He stared at her and Aedion ran to the area less affected by the fire. It was a suicide mission and Dorian was not going to be happy.

Back at the station, Rowan was on the edge of his seat. He had felt the explosion, heard it mostly. He kept staring at the screen where he had seen Aelin and Aedion running into the building and his heart raced to the point of pain. There was no way there was anyone alive in that inferno. Why was she risking her life like that?

The four engines were woking hard channeling as much water as possible on the building but from his perspective it seemed like the fire was not yielding at all. He stood and started pacing.

In that moment Lorcan called him “Are you seeing the news about the fire?”

“Yeah.” Rowan replied not removing his eyes from the tv.

“They are there.”

“I know.” Rowan felt sick “Aelin just went in.”

“Are you at home?” The man on the line asked.

“No, at the station.”

“Let me know when they are back.”

Rowan hung up and resumed his pacing.

Dorian arrived on the scene and ran to Thomas as soon as he noticed the captain.

“Where are they?” He asked with panic in his voice.

Thomas inclined his head and indicated the building and Dorian swore savagely.

“How long? I got an update on my way here.”

“Five minutes.” Added the captain directing the water to another area of the building “I have called for more units. Two more are on their way.”

“That is not enough,” raged Dorian grabbing his phone. He walked away calling someone. When he came back he was slightly less furious “Being the chief has its perks. All the units available are coming in. This is not—“ another explosion.

Much stronger than the previous one. A mushroom of yellow fire went up in the sky and the blast rocked the ground all the way to Orynth.

“Chief to Captain. Aelin please come in.” No answer.

“Aelin, damn answer that bloody radio.” He started pacing nervously and a hand ran through his hair “Aedion, come in.”

“Fuck, fuck.”

In that instant the sound of sirens filled the air.

Dorian turned and saw a long line of engines filing down the main track.

He ran to the station captains and started shouting orders. The other engines deployed around the warehouse and started tackling the fire.

Thomas joined Dorian “I am going in. My men are manning the engine and the hoses. I am going to get them out.”

“No you are not.” The tone in Dorian’s word was harsh “I am not having another one of my captains in that building. They should not be inside in the first place.”

“We have still twenty civilians trapped inside.”

“Captain, you and I have done this job for a while. You know better than me that with three such explosions the chances someone inside is still alive are slim. We stop the fire and hope they are safe.”

“Do nothing?” Thomas shouted “How the fuck do you expect me to do nothing?”

“I am the chief, I am ordering.”

Thomas stormed away and resumed his position with the attack lines with the rest of his team.

“Aedion?” Aelin’s voice was faint. She removed the pile of debris from her body and tried to stand “Aedion?” She called again, panic rising. The smoke and fire were making visibility non existent “AEDION.” She shouted.

A moment later she heard a groan and noticed his bulking figure sprawled on the floor. She ran to him and saw he was awake “answer me for fuck’s sake.”

He removed his mask “my oxygen tank is bust.”

She removed hers and passed it to him “use mine, I still have some juice left.”

“We need to get out.”

“We haven’t found anyone.”

“Aelin,” he breathed removing the mask and giving it back to her “we need to get out. Another explosion like the last one and we are roast. And the fumes are bad. We don’t have long.”

“Fine.” She helped him stand. Slowly they tried to navigate their way through the fire and smoke.

The radio crackled static as they took a few steps deeper in the inferno.

“I heard something.” Aelin moved to the sound and Aedion followed. They found a heavy door and opened it slowly. Inside they found the twenty workers still missing.

“Is anyone injured?”

A woman nodded and showed her leg that clearly had a fracture and then pointed at at another man who lay unconscious.

“We’ll get you out of here.” She looked at their scared faces “pull up you clothes and cover mouth and noses” then she crouched down and offered the woman a piggyback. Aedion placed the unconscious man on his shoulder. She started to walk but one of the workers stopped her “This way.” They walked to a door that was locked.

“It’s a secondary route. It will take us to some tunnels underneath.”

Aelin looked at Aedion and the man nodded. It was their only option. They deposited their victims on the ground and with their axes they started knocking down the heavy door. Once through they recovered the people and walked on “stay behind us. Do not walk away form the big man behind me. Hold hands and form a line like at school.”

The civilians nodded and followed. The tunnels were full of smoke. They needed to be quick. The fumes from ANFO were toxic. Her oxygen tank started beeping and she knew she had ran out of juice as well.

“This way,” said the man who seemed to know about the tunnels “these were used in the olden days when we still used dynamite to blast the quarry. They would carry it under here. Apparently it was safer than outside were there were people everywhere. They never had any accident.”

Aelin followed the man with apprehension, everyone had started coughing quite badly.

“How far?”

“Not long. We are almost out. My dad was a worker here in the olden days. He told me everything about the tunnels.”

She heard Aedion cough behind her and she followed next.

Then she felt it. The breeze and a few minutes later the tunnel opened up right in front of the quarry. Everyone collapsed exhausted and took great gulps of air. Aelin looked up and saw the fire was diminishing and gasped when she noticed the crazy amount on fire engines.

“Captain, Thomas,” she croaked, while her chest spasmed in another fit of coughing.

“Chief, captain, where are you?”

Fuck, of course Dorian was there. Lovely, a dressing down from him was all she needed “In front of the quarry, we found some tunnels. We have all civilians with us.” And her coughing resumed savagely.

Dorian walked to the manager “my men saved your trapped civilians. They mentioned some tunnels.”

The manager nodded “follow me,” they reached some SUVs, Dorian jumped in and they started driving. Not long after they stopped in a car park and Dorian in the distance noticed two firefighters uniforms.

“You damn fools,” he shouted when he was in close range “that was definitely one of the most stupid thing you two have ever done.”

Aelin coughed “Glad to see you too, buddy.”

Aedion stood “ two of the civvies are injured, the other ones just need to be checked.”

“Load them in the SUVs,” said the manager “we’ll take you all back to the main area with the EMTs.”

“Civilians first, Aedion and I can wait.” The man helped carry the survivors and sat back beside Aelin waiting for their turn and breathing deeply.

Dorian stood in front of them glaring “The whole fire department in the region has been mobilised for this.” He looked away “how did you two survive the two explosions?”

“We have super power.” She joked but from Dorian’s reaction she realised she had gone too far. The man was pissed.

“I should be mad at both of you and suspend you for being reckless.” He growled “Instead I will just keep on venting my displeasure for a few days more and also thank you for saving the civilians. But I am still displeased with you two. You do your job, you do not play heroes. Do you both read me in this?”

The two nodded silently without adding any comments to avoid angering Dorian even more.

The SUVs came back and both Aelin and Aedion made their way to the vehicles after the chief ordered them to get their arses back to their teams.

When they got back to where their team was cheers erupted.

Thomas passed his hose to a team member and ran to hug Aelin “you idiot. You damn idiot.”

“Such sweet words.” She joked patting the man on the back.

Aedion was dragged away by Lysandra for some checks and now Elide was pulling her jacket “come on, you will smooch later. Now I need to check on you. It’s protocol and you inhaled enough shit for today.”

Rowan noticed the black SUVs bring back some civilians and his worry grew when neither Aelin nor Aedion appeared. The flames were now under control thanks to the effort of all the engines involved.

Then he spotted her, her dirty blonde hair popping out of one of the SUVs that had just come back, and Aedion followed.

He collapsed on the sofa and finally let out the breath he had no idea he had been holding. She looked a mess but she was walking. She was fine. He saw the west captain ran for her and hug her and for a very brief second a pang of jealousy hit him. The he realised it was just a colleague being relieved to see they were alive. 

Elide dragged Aelin away to the ambulance and he hoped Lorcan was following the news. Elide was petite but he had a feeling the woman had just as much fire as Aelin.

He relaxed and then he had an idea. He grabbed the phone and rang Gavriel “Hey man, listen I have an idea and I need your help.”

Aelin sat on a gurney in an ambulance, with an oxygen mask attached to her face.

“I am fine,” she complained, trying to remove it, but Elide slapped her hand.

“You are violent.”

“What were you two thinking? You and that idiot cousin of yours? Going inside that hell?” The woman complained checking again her blood pressure and oxygen levels.

“It’s our job.”

“Not when the bloody place is about to blow up. You scared the heck out of everyone.”

“How’s Aedion?”

“Probably getting beaten up by Lys.”

Aelin laughed and more coughing wrecked her body. When she reopened her eyes her entire team was in front of the ambulance “Don’t you two do that ever again. You crazy bastards.” Were the loving words coming from Ansel. Everyone nodded “Dorian had to call all the fire trucks in the area.” Explained Ress.

“I guess you two will soon receive another invite from the mayor.” Joked Nox and Aelin gasped.

Brullo looked at her with a grin “that’s what you get at playing damn heroes. Police has been stopping people coming any closer all night. There is a sea of reporters out there.”

“Don’t you have jobs to do?” Groaned Elide “let the woman recover.”

“I always forget how scary you can be Lochan.” Ren shouted back at her while walking away from them.

“How are you feeling? Can you breath better?”

Aelin nodded.

“Your oxygen levels are back to normal. Does it hurt when you breath?”

“No, I am fine.”

It was much, much later when they did manage to finally get back to the station. Aelin got off the truck and then a wall of muscles slammed into her and enveloped her in a fierce hug. She looked up and noticed a pair of green eyes staring at her. She leaned her head against his chest for a second and the smell of pine and snow hit her. His scent.

“Don’t do that ever again.” He whispered in her ear.

“Where you worried about me, captain?” Then she pulled back noticing her team staring at the two. Fuck, no one knew they had sort of reconciled.

“What is the arsehole doing here?” Shouted Aedion pulling Aelin away from Rowan.

“He was here before the call. I told him to wait for me. That’s why he is here. And his name is not arsehole.” She growled back at her cousin.

Then a few more people came out of the station and they recognised Rowan’s squadron.

“We made food. Gavriel is a great cook. We helped. I just thought that you might all be starving.”

“Damn he is good,” said Ansel looking at Rowan from top to bottom.

Lorcan looked at Elide and the woman smiled at him. He tried to smile back but he was nervous and instead walked back to the station with the rest of the group.

“They need domesticating,” commented Lysandra when she noticed her friend’s dejected expression “Let’s go, I hope the food is as good as last time.”

Rowan and Aelin were the only two left behind “Sorry I hugged you in public.”

She shook her head “It’s fine. It actually felt nice.” Then smiled “I just hope you are now ready for all the comments that are going to rain on us as soon as we get back in there.” She brushed his uniform “I covered you in soot.”

“I don’t care. I have never been more terrified in my life. And I had some hairy experiences in my job.”

“Sorry,” she looked down but she felt his fingers lift her chin.

“You were amazing. Totally insane, but I am in awe.”

He took her shoulder “come on, you need food and we got loads ready.”

Together they walked back and Aelin walked to the sink to wash her face. She wanted a shower but she wanted food more.

“Aedion you could have at least washed your face.” She sat beside Rowan and noticed her cousin’s state.

“I am hungry.”

“Lys, did you kiss him in that state?”

“Hell no,” said the woman taking a bite of her food “I gave him a pat on the back and told him to get his arse in the ambulance.”

“Uh, someone is not getting any tonight.” Chimed Ress and the group laughed.

“Probably more than you, boyo.”growled back Aedion without rising his gaze from his meal.

“Well, someone is definitely getting some,” added Fenrys and nodded to Aelin and Rowan who were just sitting normally eating their food, not even brushing against each other.

Rowan growled at the man and Aelin laughed.

“So what is it with you two?” Asked Elide curious.

Aelin and Rowan’s head popped up from their plates.

“You hugged, he did all of this, are you two dating and pretending to fight so we don’t annoy you?”

“We are just us for now.”explained Aelin “before the fire we talked.”

“We are figuring things out. No labels. No rush. One step at a time.” He grabbed Aelin’s hand under the table and turned to her “we will let things develop.”

“That’s boring.” Comment Aedion, mouth half full.

Aelin snorted out loud “You pined after Lysandra for two years. Two years of driving me crazy because you were head over heels for her but could not make up your mind.”

“Aelin.” Shouted the man.

“Two years?” Asked Lysandra “why you never told me?”

“You know him. He always tries to do the right thing. He kept telling himself that it was not proper since you worked together. I had to read him the regulations and tell him that EMTs are not under our chain of command so he was in the clear. Had it be Ansel, now that would have been an issue since he is her superior.” Explained Aelin who enjoyed the shift of the conversation moving away from her and Rowan.

“You are an idiot.”

She noticed Lorcan throwing glances at Elide and she elbowed Rowan but he had noticed as well.

Elide stared at Lorcan, then blushed savagely and went back to her food “this is amazing,” she said out loud.

“Lorcan made those.” Said Gavriel and Aelin was sure that the man had noticed the exchanges as well.

“So you are a good cook as well?”

Lorcan grunted but Connall elbowed him. A very brave manoeuvre considering that Lorcan was his boss.

“I live on my own. I need to know how to cook.” He managed, never looking at her.

Aelin texted Rowan is he always this bad at flirting?

She could hear Rowan silent laugh this is actually going well for his standards.

Aelin rolled her eyes “who has a house big enough with a garden that we can have a nice barbecue? All of us? Just to get to know each other?” Announced Aelin.

Gavriel raised his hand “I do. I have a big yard and I haven’t used my barbecue since last year.”

“Awesome. What about this Saturday?We are off and you guys are on your month off. So it’s perfect.”

“How do you know about our month off?” Asked Fenrys, staring at Rowan.

“Ro— Captain Whitethorn told me.”

“Oh, of course he did, didn’t he?”

She was going to slap Fenrys.

“Lieutenant, I don’t see why it might be any of your business what the captain and I talk about.” Rowan had put on his captain voice and Fenrys went back to his food.

“The barbecue sounds amazing, spring is in full swing.”

“Good,” said Aelin standing and going to the fridge “I think we all need it after tonight.” Then she brought a bottle of coke to the table “we  can’t have wine because we are still on shift.”

“It’s fine,” said Vaughan “we are used to stay dry.” And he pointed at Rowan and Lorcan “their no booze policy is outrageous. We can’t even drink when we are off shift.”

“Blame the twins,” replied Rowan “they are the ones who got drunk, brought two girls on a heavily secure aircraft carrier, got busted and are still on active duty just because Lorcan and I saved their arses.”

“Oh yeah, that was epic.”

“So after that, Rowan and I decided to tighten things and now they can only drink once their mission is over and their arses are back on Terrasen.” Explained Lorcan.

“That’s brutal,” commented Aedion.

The twins had gone silent all of a sudden.

“It must be hard keeping big kids in place,” Elide asked Lorcan and the man attempted a smile at the woman.

“That’s why Rowan is the one who deals with that. He is the babysitter. The perks of rank.”

Rowan gave Lorcan a rude gesture and Aelin burst out laughing.

“You are lucky we are off duty, Whitethorn.”

“Why? Are you going to spank me?”

The group burst into laughter. No one expected the stiff necked captain to come out with such a remark.

“No, because you might like it and it’s gross.”

Aelin was in stitches, her stomach in pain from too much laughing.

“Who is the kinkiest?” Asked Lysandra.

The fire station team pointed at Ansel and the woman stood and bowed happy to be the winner of such a title.

The pilots group pointed at Lorcan and Elide blushed savagely.

“I think he and Essar covered every place of their houses and tried every position known to the human race.” Commented Gavriel.

Elide stared at Aelin in disbelief and Aelin knew the woman’s fears. Elide was the opposite and had no experience and could see why Elide was now panicking.

After their meal, the fire station boys had been put on kitchen duty and were washing dishes and cleaning, while Ansel, Lys, Elide and Aelin were having their meeting in the ambulance.

“I can’t.” Said Elide.

“Why?” Asked Ansel.

“Did you hear Gavriel? Lorcan is basically a sex god and I am the opposite.”

“There is no need to freak out now. All you are doing is staring at each other. When the time comes you just have to talk to him.” Explained Lysandra calmly.

“And tell him what? Sorry Lorcan I do not know what to do with men?”

“Yes,” said Aelin “if he is a decent man he will understand.”

“If he is not, I‘ll deal with him.” Aelin liked Ansel a lot. The woman wan’t always easy to get along with but when it came to them four they had formed their tiny support group and Ansel would back them up at all times. She was loyal and quite an awesome firefighter.

“Yeah but he might want to do things I do not feel comfortable with.”

“Consent, Elide.” Said Ansel sternly “If you say no it’s no. If the bastard pushes, you dump his arse straight away because he is not worth it.”

“Ansel is right,” said Aelin, taking Elide’s hand “If you want to go slow, you tell him. If he says no, well he can fuck off.”

Rowan was helping in the kitchen when he noticed all the women had disappeared “where did they go?” He could not see them anywhere.

“Girls meeting in the ambulance.” Explained Aedion “Aelin, Lys, Elide and Ansel sit in the back of the ambulance and have their girls meetings. Probably to gossip or complain about us.”

“Oh.” Was Rowan’s only comment.

“But I think tonight you and I are in the clear.” He finished washing the dishes “I got a feeling they are talking about Elide and Lorcan.”

“So everyone noticed, eh?”

“They were definitely not being subtle.” Replied Aedion “you tell you CO to go easy on her. He breaks her heart, I break him.” Then he turned to Rowan “same goes to you. You break Aelin’s heart and you are a dead man. She has been through enough.”

Rowan leaned against the counter “I know about Sam.”

Aedion’s mouth fell open.

“She told me.” Rowan admitted quietly while drying some of the dishes “We are taking things slow.” Confessed Rowan. He felt like he could talk easily to the man, although he was positive Aedion was not his biggest fan “I lost my wife over a year and a half ago. I know how Aelin feels.”

“I am sorry, man.”

Rowan brushed him off “Aelin and I are trying. But I don’t want to hurt her anymore.”

“You’d better.”

In that instant the kitchen became populated again and the two stopped talking.

“We gave the guys the tour,” explained Ress, happily “are the girls still in their meeting?”

“Looks like,” said Aedion and patted Rowan on the shoulder “guys I am going for a shower.”

“Go and make yourself pretty for your woman.”

Eventually the women came back as well and Lysandra cheered when she was told Aedion had gone for a shower.

Aelin walked to Lorcan “can I talk to you?”

The man looked at her with a questioning look.

They walked outside in the yard “do you like Elide? Are you interested in her?”

The man looked away clearly not comfortable talking about his feelings.

“Elide likes you, for some obscure reason. She is wonderful and a dear friend of mine. She does not have the same… experience you have. You are free to try and date her if she is okay with it. But you break her heart, you hurt her and I swear you’ll be flying from Terrasen under false identity because Lys, Ansel and I will come after you.” The man was a giant but she was not scared “do you read me on that, sir?”

Lorcan nodded.

“Now you stop playing side glances and go ask her out for a coffee.”

“Are you planning on managing my relationship with her?” He asked annoyed.

“No, but I will be watching you.” And walked away.

With her eyes she followed the man going to talk to Elide and once he was done she saw her friend giving her the thumbs up.

Happy with her job she went to find Rowan and found him sitting hiding beside one of the engines.

“Hey,” she said sitting down beside him “what are you doing down here alone?”

He replied with a heavy sigh “Our two teams together get along a bit too much. I just needed peace and quiet. I landed only this morning. We haven’t slept in a while and jet lag and all. I am a bit wiped.”

“You should go home.”

He leaned his head against the vehicle ‘you should too… after the night you had.”

“Can’t, night shift remember? I will go and take a shower though, and collapse on my bunk. But I am stuck here until tomorrow and hope no more emergencies.”

“It’s not fair though. After that fire you should go home and have someone relieve you.”

“That’s not how it works, captain.” She stood “go home. Sleep, I believe you promised a lady to go out for a meal.”

“Yes, and hopefully this lady will find some time to relax as well.”

Rowan stood as well and stopped in front of her.

“Thank you for the meal. It was awesome.”

“You deserved it.”

She grabbed the tips of his fingers and held them gently “I will see you tonight at seven.”

“Hopefully with less dirt on you.”

She flipped him off and walked away. Rowan chuckled and in the end took his leave as well.

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@swankii-art-teacher

@courtofjurdan

@whimsicallyreading

@tillyrubes10

[vidavalor]

Can we talk about how Sam is as useless at this as Bucky is, really, and it’s massively sweet?

Yeah, I’m writing about Sam because we all love us some brainwashed, century-old assassin endless array of hurt/comfort here but this idea that Sam, because he’s a therapist and not always a crying, nightmare-sweat-drenched mess, is Captain Got It All Together is not truth... because this poor broken-hearted kitten absolutely does not and it makes him so much more of a better-realized, fuller character... 

I’m not trying to wade any ship wars here or any fandom strife over the Bucky slant to fic/sometimes erasure of Sam here... I love both of these characters equally and ship them but my point here is that I think that because Bucky’s trauma is more well-documented and, for lack of a better word, “flashier”, that some people might think Sam looks perfectly well-adjusted. By comparison, he probably is but this other, quieter story happening with Sam is necessary reading here if you’ve been sleeping on the complexities of one Sam Wilson that aren’t the ones the show is focusing on more explicitly relating to his lived experience as a Black man in America. (They’re not completely separate either but not only this part of his life.) What do I mean, exactly? 

Been wondering how these two are falling in love but can mainly just get it from Bucky’s POV because Sam is awesome and Bucky is sad and need love? Not sure what Sam is getting out of his relationship with Bucky? Not totally sure you ship it but leaning that way? Yeah, pull up a seat because this thing I wrote after Ep 5 here (so spoilers through that) is basically an old-school ship manifesto at this point but comes at SamBucky/WinterFalcon from Sam’s side, rather than Bucky’s. (I have nothing *against* Bucky. I just think you’re missing half the goodness of this show and half the surprisingly tender romance of all of this if you are not focusing on Sam as much as Bucky.) If this interests you, then read on, being forewarned that it’s a little long...

So... Sam Wilson is a sweet, kind, warm-hearted, empathetic, drop-dead gorgeous superhero soldier flying military veteran therapist... whom the canon suggests is Bucky Barnes-level obsessed with his dead former partner (in some sense of the word), Riley. You thought it was just Bucky with the angsty past love? Oh no... oh, no no no....

Consider that Sam’s been back in Delacroix twice now in TFATWS and not once has his sister-- who adores him and who knows everyone in town-- suggested that she call up any one of the at least ten decent single people she has to know who live in the area to take her f*cking *dreamboat* of a brother out. Forget the show putting Sam in like twelve pieces of canon and not throwing a single human (not named Bucky) at him and what that implies-- we all know that Sarah wouldn’t care what kind of human her brother was attracted to and yet she and the entire community of Delacroix can’t seem to find this guy a date. He’s sweet and hot and an Avenger but our Sam’s a monk, you guys... More to the point... they don’t even try. They know better than to try anymore... which says a lot.

Going back awhile now, when Sam met Steve, he was still this equally dreamy and he didn’t even have any Avengers-related problems getting in the way of his potential dating life. He had a normal job working for the VA in DC. Yet, he clearly was seeing exactly no one and while I am willing to admit that pretty much any human would drop everything and follow Steve Rogers around the world, it’s clear that Sam wasn’t seeing anyone at the time because his life was able to be dropped in a second and he also had that file with Riley’s photo at the ready, man. At. the. ready... 

He responded to the opportunity to follow Steve with no less need when it came to his own post-trauma-of-war identity as Bucky does. This isn’t to say that Sam is *as* lost as Bucky because it would be hard to out-do the once-brainwashed assassin who has been alive for a hundred years but Sam saw all sorts of hell. He’s a therapist for veterans because he’s had to get beyond *his own* PTSD and he’s really aware of how that is a journey that doesn’t exactly ever end. It gets significantly better and he knows how well it can-- that’s why he can tell Bucky that there is hope of that-- but it is very clear that Sam Wilson is still suffering his own kind of PTSD and his own grief for the death of a guy who likely couldn’t love him the way he needed him to. 

I know we don’t know a ton about exactly what Sam and Riley were but I think there is enough to infer that they probably actually weren’t a couple. For one thing, Sarah never mentions him and even if the show wanted to be vague about things, they could phrase it like “it’s been forever since you brought back someone to the house, haven’t met any of them since Riley” or something. There are ways to infer that they were a thing and the nature of it, if the show wanted to do that but all they have suggested so far is that Sam was in love with Riley. We know he and Riley were friends and worked on the Falcon suit project together but what we are getting out of what they are giving to us is that Sam loved him but it’s not clear that they were even a couple. I’d even say the picture of them that he shows Steve and Natasha is supposed to evoke that they weren’t a couple-- it’s of Sam looking at Riley, smiling like he’s the moon and the stars, while Riley is smiling but just a bit and he’s looking at the camera, not at Sam. 

In other words, remember Miller’s analogies from school? Sam is to Riley as Bucky is to Steve. I just offended every person reading this who thinks that Steve and Bucky weren’t an unrequited thing *ducks* but I feel like we’re supposed to take from what they give us that Sam knows a little something about being mad for a guy who thinks you are his best buddy but doesn’t look at you in a romantic or sexual way and you feel like you’re dying over it. Sam gets Bucky because Sam *is* Bucky when it comes to this. 

If Sam and Riley were just the best of friends, Sam still would have mourned him greatly but it would not necessarily have impacted his love life the way it seems like it might have. I’m not necessarily saying there was no one but this is a man who even when it felt like Steve Rogers-- whom Sam obviously found attractive-- seemed like he was making Sam question whether or not he was coming onto him or just super-nice and making a new fellow veteran friend... even when that was happening, Sam’s response was that he didn’t hate it or anything and he was willing to help Steve with what he needed in this friendly, advice-giving sort of way and maybe they had a thing, who knows, but it was clear that Sam-- a guy who has to be hit on *all the time*-- wasn’t really used to the idea of there being someone in his life. So, he wasn’t letting anyone into his life. He would have had the chance, no doubt. He was choosing not to. Why would you choose not to? If you were grieving the loss of a man you couldn’t get over and you thought that you weren’t ever going to love anyone like that and maybe having someone wasn’t going to happen for you.

Like, imagine Sam’s surprise when The Winter Soldier turns up, nearly kills them all, disappears and they go on the run and he starts hearing Steve’s confessional stories about the guy who was his best friend and in love with him and Steve has literally never said those words aloud because they’re from the *1940s* and he’s felt guilty all this time for hurting him. Steve’s the kind of guy who would feel guilty for not being in love with someone who was in love with him. That’s when Sam, who thought he had more in common with Steve, realizes he’s actually *Bucky Barnes* in this story. He’s the damn Winter Soldier in the Steve-and-Bucky version of him and Riley. 

That is how Bucky evolves from “the kind of guy you have to stop” in Sam’s mind to the guy he’s hanging out with in every fight and snarking over the car seats with. He’s like yeesh, I thought I had a few years of this ungodly pain and that was bad... this poor bastard’s been in love with a Riley who could and probably will live until he’s a hundred and thirty. Sam starts getting into this whole antagonist origin story of The Winter Soldier here because he realizes that one wrong move-- one case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time-- and he could have been captured during the war he was in. He could have been tortured like that, so easily, and he knows what it’s like to be tortured by love in that way. 

Bucky, for his part, when he begins to get his mind back and more fully remember Steve and his past, takes one look at Sam and is thinking like... that poor SOB... oh, look, it’s 21st Century Me. So, you fell for Steve Rogers, huh? Welcome to the club. We meet every Tuesday at two to discuss being the pining best friend in love with a guy who, in all likelihood, is attracted to both of us but unless Tony Stark can shake loose a bit of the freak in The Star-Spangled Man With a Plan, we’re not getting anything but a most earnest and sincere friendship out of this (and if Stark can’t, no one can....)

Like, Bucky’s Steve love is pretty pure. He wants him to be happy. He’s hurt that Steve doesn’t love him the way he loves Steve but he does love him as his best friend as well and wants him to have what he wants out of life. If that’s going back in time to Peggy Carter (who wouldn’t, really?) and leaving him behind then, fine. He wishes he were still here but he’ll deal but he’s going to be keeping an eye out for the other guy left behind-- Steve’s new modern era best friend person. Bucky’s so gone over keeping Steve safe that he can’t even resent Sam’s presence-- he’s thrilled he exists. Someone good to look after Steve when Bucky couldn’t! Sam Wilson is heaven sent and must be protected at all costs! So frequently from some kid with webbed fingers, apparently! 

Sam, meanwhile, is challenged by the dilemma that Bucky appears to think that they’re in the same boat while Sam, who for sure had a little crush on Steve as who doesn’t, has really come to realize that he is far, far more into the tragic one here. He’s so irritated about it. It would be simpler if he just fell for another blond soldier with red, white and blue blood who couldn’t love him. At least he’d just be completely hopeless then but the brainwashed one? The one that thinks he’s horrid but is so good that he can’t even bring himself to be that jealous of Sam when he clearly thinks Sam is sleeping with the guy he’s loved for years? 

Oh, Sam’s gone on that one... 

Bucky’s still a mess then so it’s harmless enough to just pretend he’s not writing himself into touch-starved Bucky fanfic in his own mind here but when Bucky keeps saving him in different fights? When he catches him looking once or twice. When the bickering is really flirting and Sam knows he means it that way, too? When the poor guy just gets his mind back, they all reunite and go to one battle and then the two of them disappear and miss *five years* of their lives? When then, soon after, Steve is gone, too? 

When it begins to feel like *they* are now the story and meant to go through the rest of these things together? I mean, when everyone else is all on about the fate and destiny of it all-- Stark’s big sacrifice being the one way to save everyone, Doctor Strange going on about all the possibilities of the universe on a saving the world level but it so personal to the people Sam and Bucky know, Steve choosing to go back in time because he can and be with the woman he loved and never got to have... 

...standing there in the funerals and aftermaths of all of this together, by virtue of being Steve’s Friends Who Aren’t Really Part of This Gang Exactly... are Sam and Bucky. What are the odds that they are supposed to be the rest of one another’s story? Sam was wondering it. He for sure hadn’t felt like this since Riley... he might not have really ever felt it at all before. 

Can we just admit that while there’s been some guys in the past-- and it could be rephrased as ‘some people’, as while Sam is written to suggest he’s at least into men, he could be into people who don’t identify as men as well-- but there’s not been someone who has been able to love him the way he’s loved them. 

He’s from the South and Black and the show taps into the racism he’s been through as a result. Not obviously in Delacroix, where he feels safe and seen, where people care about him and don’t care that he is not straight, but in other parts. He’s been in the military, where homophobia is still pretty rampant and it’s a culture of a lot of heterosexual machismo. (Hell, the show even has a kind of walking, talking example of a guy everyone knows was the epitome of that kind of culture, even if he’s been broken by that world, too-- John Walker.) It’s not even really clear if Sam is out and, if he is, to whom. He seems to be the kind of person to want to be himself as much as possible and Sarah likely knows because they are close but I’m not so sure that a lot of Sam’s military buddies actually did. He really strikes me as the guy who gets along with everybody and whom everybody loves-- but whom few people actually *know* because he keeps himself (all of himself, not just his sexuality) private from others...

...which is also a hell of a lot like one Bucky Barnes. 

Guaranteed they became such fast friends not just from being sort of left with one another in the aftermath of Steve and their attraction but because Sam was amazed to find that Bucky was actually pretty funny and Sam just kept talking to him because while he has-- or had, anyways, before he ran off with Steve-- a ton of people he’d consider friends, he doesn’t really have anyone he’d consider to be a close friend and hasn’t since Riley. Bucky, just still stunned to be free of mind control and that there was another human being talking to him instead of looking at him as a weapon to program to kill, was eager to listen to and absolutely thrilled when he could find something sarcastic to say to make Sam laugh that surprised laugh and light up. 

These two damaged couple of guys spent most of this show and the months before it just terrified by how much love they were feeling for one another and were very happy to let any conflict they could get in the way of it-- any excuse to claim they weren’t feeling totally seen and run for the hills back into their own trauma.

It’s not just Bucky doing this. He might have been the one not returning the texts at the start, the one who seemed to be withdrawing more, while Sam was texting him still to check in on him but how quickly that began to flip around by Episode 5. 

Suddenly, the brave one is Bucky. It was Sam for the first few episodes-- he was stil trying and so hard, despite not getting what he needed in return and Bucky still sending signals that he wanted him but was happy to still revel in being too damaged and scared to try harder. By Episode 5, though? Bucky’s not only learned to trust himself again, it is proven to be what he was afraid of: not being able to protect and love Sam the way he wanted to and that Sam would leave him. Triggered by the shield as a metaphor for not caring about Bucky, not having a reason to still pursue him, Bucky thought he had successfully pushed Sam away and that Sam would really stop texting because to not do so would be to admit to one another that they wanted to be around one another and this wasn’t just about Steve/Captain America. By Episode 5, Bucky shows up in Delacroix not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but with eyes only for Sam and is every one of Sam’s favorite Bucky Barnes fantasies come to life. 

It’s now Sam flipping out. Would you have expected the Sam of the first two episodes to be a babbling mess in the face of a flirty Bucky stretching and claiming it’s time for him to go get a hotel room? To try to be playing it cool but winding up asking him to stay forever and telling him he likes his tight t-shirts in the middle there? To get so nervous that he suddenly is babbling about six toes and flirting with Sarah, showing how jealous he was of Bucky just... smiling and being this guy Steve had said was under there but that Sam had only had small glimpses of so far? If he was gone for the broken Winter Soldier... he’s wrecked by a single smile from this Bucky. 

This is the same guy who spent the first few episodes confident to a point of near-cockiness, loving flirting with and teasing Bucky, the one that seemed more well-adjusted and in control of himself. Overall, he is but there’s something there when Bucky shows up and White Wolfs Sam into a sputtering mess who is sending him little glances, as if they’ve switched bodies from the first few episodes. It shows *just how much* Sam is comfortable with Bucky and how rare it is for him because he would react differently to Bucky’s more overt flirting of Episode 5 if how he is with Bucky was his default in life. Instead, we see that some of it is posturing-- it’s the Sam equivalent of lifting heavy things and using power tools. His is the humor (what’s a better aphrodisiac than making the Winter Soldier laugh or flirt back or blush?) and the bicker-caring. We even see where it comes from, in a way. Sam is a soldier-- he knows how to help other traumatized soldiers and when we saw him in his VA group session when we met him, we saw him using that kind of machismo world and its language to communicate with the soldiers in the group. The difference for him with them versus him with Bucky is that he’s also flirting with Bucky. The buddy cop thing is intentional-- it’s Sam’s strategy, it’s been Bucky’s choice to respond to it and they’re playacting it as how they talk because it’s been easier than admitting that they are completely gone on another and just want all the soft things. 

Up until recently anyway and now Sam’s reeling from a man he’s fallen in love with showing up and loving him back. Don’t think for a second that Bucky doesn’t know enough by now to know that it’d totally undo Sam but the surprise of it to the audience only really exists if you don’t think Sam and Bucky have anything in common besides their now-gone mutual friend. In reality, they’re endgame. 

[mirismuffins-ovo]

Plant Palace Pt 4

A woman with dyed blonde hair answered the door,she was decently short. Shorter than John at least, “how’s your cat?”,it was the code for this household. The woman gave a smile and stepped aside for John to come in “your Johnathan Prince ain’t ya?” The small women shut the door behind her as she faced John,who was standing politely to the side.”And your Dr.Hanon?” John felt embarrassed she knew who he was,but with his family history he wasn’t surprised. “What can I do for you?”

John quickly explained his symptoms to the woman who led him down to the basement. It was filled with medical equipment,she had him lie down on a small couch like chair as she pulled some gloves on. “I’m going to lift up your shirt and take a look” she spoke in a soft tone and John nodded. She gently pressed on John's swollen tummy, “seems a bit too solid to be just overwatering” she said, a bit confused. Dr Hanon pulled out a small monitor and put a cool gel on John's tummy,causing him to get a shiver.The rest went as you could expect,the doctor explained to John what the cause could be for his pregnancy but John was in a state of shock.

He’d come home and was still in a mix of emotions,when he walked into his house seeing Eddie sitting on the couch with Bitty in his lap.

He heard the door open, true to his word, John was home. Bitty jumped down and wove herself in and out of John’s legs, purring, happy he returned. John ignored her. Eddie got up to greet him but the look on the younger man’s face was one he wasn’t hoping to see. He had a feeling that it was going to not be good.

“John… How’d it go?” He waited in anticipation as he watched his boyfriend’s eyes begin to water. “Come here.” He opened his arms which John walked into, hugging him. Worry flooded over the taller man. He guided them over to the couch, letting the other sit while he went to make tea.

Eddie returned with two hot cups of ginger tea he had found in the cabinet, handing a cup over to his boyfriend. He waited in silence, waiting for John to be ready to talk.

John took the cup mumbling what seemed to be a thankyou. Putting the hot cup to lips while taking a sip while he tried to gather his thoughts “Eddie…” his voice was a hoarse whisper,he looked up with his worried eyes to his boyfriend sitting next to him. “the doctor, she said I’m..pregnant” His voice was almost inaudible when he spoke. John couldn’t stop thinking about it,all this time,why he’d been sick and his growing tummy. He was unable to look Eddie in the eye,he knew that it was germination,he wasn’t sure if Eddie would understand that.

Eddie stilled when he heard the words leave his boyfriend’s mouth. Pregnant? What? He could feel the mug slip from his hand but he caught it when hot tea poured on his foot. He yelped before rushing back to the kitchen to find something to clean up the mess John got up to make sure he was alright. He found towels to wipe up the water, dismissing his injury.

“I.. uh…” He looked up at John. “We haven’t had sex yet!” His voice cracked as he also didn’t mean to shout that.

John felt his face get hot with embarrassment “I know I know..Eddie I promise I’m still a virgin” His voice shook as he said this. “the doctor said it might be caused by germination,I promise I haven’t seen anyone but you” John didn’t know how to tell Eddie that it wasn’t just one. “Um...Eddie one last thing..” He rubbed the back of his neck and his voice faltered when he spoke again. “She said that there’s three..��� John had to sit back down on the couch when he admitted it. It still had him in shock,but Bitty took this opportunity to get comfortable on John's lap resting her head on his round tummy.

“I never accused you of cheating, but since now knowing you’re an Abbie, maybe I gave off something or…”

He was trying to wrap his head around everything. He already had a busy morning finding out his boyfriend was an Abnormal, then turns out he’s growing three little water melons- wait.

“DID YOU SAY THREE!?” He shouted again, staring at John with wide eyes.

John flinched slightly at the loud voice of his boyfriend. Doing his best to not cry again,but his eyes were brimmed with tears. He tried to stay calm,but struggled speaking with a frog in his throat so he just silently nodded. John failed to keep the tears in and began to silently sob into his hands. He feared that this was enough for Eddie to leave him and he didn’t know how he’d deal with this on his own. John heard Eddies confused panicked muttering continue but he couldn’t help but cry. Not a lick sure what to say to calm his boyfriend.

Eddie could see the tears starting to run down John’s cheeks. He stood up, leaving the towel on the floor.

“Ah!” He got up to get close to his boyfriend and remembered the last time he did that, vines wrapped around the man. So he stopped close enough.

“I’m not mad! I’m not upset! I’m just shocked!” He ran a hand in his hair, rubbing the undercut. “Most of all I’m worried about you. We just started going out and BOOM! Babies! I’d be freaking out if this were me!”

He cleared this throat, lowering his voice again. “What do you want me to do?”

John shook his head still at a loss for words. He was freaked out for sure but he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. “I dunno”He whimpered softly wiping away tears from his wet cheeks. He put a hand on his stomach. “I've never done this before” He shrugged and was still shook that there’s three other life forms growing inside him. His stomach was already so big in such a small amount of time,he tried to think about what he could’ve germinated with and he remembered when the puff of spores sent him into a coughing fit. John tried to keep from crying more “it’s not like I can just get rid of them” He whispered curled up in the corner of the couch.

“Woah woah, I would never ask you to do that.” Eddie joined him on the couch, seeing relax enough to approach. “I just hope this is something you want to do. But there is that option, right? Or do Abbies not have an option…” He placed his chin in his hands for thought.

“Anyways,” He shook his head. “For now, we’ll be going a few notches ahead of this relationship. Franky I’m more traditional: Date for a good year at the least, marriage, then kids, but we can work with this… Anything you need, I’ll get it, or do it. But we’ll need to know a few things first.” He pulled out his phone opening up a word document.

“We need to research how this germination pregnancy works. I assume this started from a plant seeing as we didn’t do it. We do know a few things,” Eddie started to type. “Usual fatigue, nausea, increased water intake, hyper growth since plants do grow fast… Am I missing anything?”

John thought it might be helpful if Eddie knew that if John chose to,he could slightly speed up the pregnancy if he chose to. “Maybe uh...this” John hovered a hand over his belly and put a bit of energy forward. He made a small noise as his belly swelled a little bit more than it was already. The slight growth only became known when his sweater seemed to lose a bit more space around his body. He looked uncomfortable after doing this,he’d even felt his chest get a bit heavier. “The babies are definitely plant-like” His voice was tired and he was still stressed out by his fragile mind. John seemed more tired even though it was barely afternoon. He felt bad for pushing all of this on Eddie,he’d never meant for this to happen. “the doctor said they’re growing pretty quickly,I’m at a normal human's 12th or 13th week of pregnancy for triplets” John had only felt sick for barely over a month,he still couldn’t help but feel guilty about being knocked up.

It surprised Eddie even more as John had somehow made his stomach grow more. He looked up at the man with sympathy. “Well don’t force it if it’s that uncomfortable.”

He started to gather more notes. He had found enough before coming to a conclusion. So basically what John was going through was like a hyper germination pregnancy, carrying more plant-like rather than human babies. John was a Botany Abnormal specializing in plants. He was a literal green thumb.

“What happens when an Abnormal becomes pregnant? How is an Abnormal pregnancy different from a human’s?”

But another thought clicked in his head. The shop. How were they going to manage the shop as John’s stomach grew? What explanation would they give the customers if John decides to continue to work?

“What are we going to do about Plant Palace?”

John thought for a moment and sighed “I have to keep working,it’s not like I can stop out of nowhere” he brushed his fingers through his hair “I don’t think most people know what I am,I’m sure you’ve seen me in more feminine outfits.” He placed a hand on his puffed tummy gently squishing it to feel the babies, “I probably won’t be able to work after a certain point though” he looked up at Eddie,John hadn’t expressed to Eddie his concern for the babies looking more abnormal than human. He feared what’d happen if they looked inhuman, but he shook the thought “ big clothes could work too,i've actually never met other abnormals who’re pregnant” he shrugged and looked at Eddie still searching for a trace of anger but he’d only found concern and sympathy.”most prolly find it too dangerous to have children while living in a regular town,the risk of the baby having anomaly in their hair face,or eyes is high.”

Eddie frowned, not really happy with the answer. It was odd but a wave of protectiveness was washing over him. He would rather John deal with this behind the scenes. He could take care of the place while John was ‘at his parents’. But it was his boyfriend who kept the shop alive, brought smiles to their customers. He hated the thought of any pregnant person working. He’d seen too many women at retail stores looking miserable on their feet having to deal with almost popping and still working.

“Fine, but if you feel anything wrong and I mean anything, you’re going on rest. I’ll take care of the shop. I’ll skip band practice to take care of you. I’m in the middle of writing an album and those take months to compose.” He made clear.

John nodded, kind of nervous about this switch in his boyfriend.

“You’ll have to appear feminine to pass this off. Unless we tell them your trans. We do know that one elderly lady is super nosy. But honestly it’s what you’re comfortable with. I won’t try to force anything about that on to you.”

He had to think. “We’ll cross the bridge when we get closer to the birth. What I need to know is the dangers of keeping them, since they are more than a full Abnormal. Because if we’re keeping them, then we’ve got to baby proof the place and get supplies.” Eddie continued to mumble, trying to figure out what they would need for three babies.

John nodded listening to his boyfriend.“Eddie...there’s a good chance they won’t be able to blend into human society” He felt shitty admitting that fact,he’d never willingly want to give them up,John wasn’t that kind of person. But he didn’t want them to be taken by the government for experiments. John placed his hands on his tummy rubbing it gently,he looked worried but more sad than anything. “I wouldn’t get our hopes up” His voice wavered for a moment,Bitty had hopped up on the couch again and lied next to John in an attempt to comfort him. John just needed some kind of comfort,still feeling uneasy about it all.

Eddie sighed. This really was difficult. What he was going to ask next was going to be hard. He didn’t want to ask, but they also needed to talk about it before it was too late or they would forget.

“Say we can’t keep them because they won’t look entirely human. I mean, I wouldn’t mind helping you raise them...”

He paused for a moment, feeling something odd in his chest. Well two things. One he knew right away as sinister. The singer had shocked himself that he would even feel this way. The other was harder to pinpoint.

“But if they couldn’t blend in, would there be a safe space for them to grow? A place you could visit and still see them as their parent?”

“I could try to find a safe haven for them,most abnormals escape America by going to Canada,it’s safer there and we don’t have as terrible discrimination.” He thought about how far away they lived from that type of network “I wouldn’t want to just abandon them,and would you really be okay with helping me raise them?” he kept rubbing his belly with concern. “I know some people who took care of me for a while kinda close,after...some family stuff happened when I was a kid” he cleared his throat and looked away “guess you could say my godparents might be able to take care of them” Johns stomach growled loudly and he blushed at the reminder he hadn’t eaten at all today,he sipped his ginger tea again. He pulled the cup away from his lips when the babies began to squirm a bit,and John stared at his tummy, partially delighted,but worried.“it looks like their active right now” John mumbled softly to Eddie “can we maybe discuss this later?...It’s already a lot to take in eddie” His tired eyes met Eddies,Johns pleading for some kind of distraction.

Eddie heard John's stomach grumble. Right! Everyone needed to be fed.

"Of course I'll be here for you. But for now let's put this on pause. I'll cook you something to eat. After, I gotta run to my place to grab my music notebooks and guitar. I'll be back after that. Then we can enjoy the rest of our day off before returning to work." He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his boyfriend's cheek before getting up to cook what John requested.

He also ate a little bit before taking his keys and running over to his apartment for a moment to grab his stuff. He made sure John was comfortable before he left for a moment. The singer let out a shaky breath as he got into his car and drove 10 minutes down the road to his place. His hands were shaking as he drove, his brain going so fast trying to process everything. Parking in his driveway real quick, he gripped the steering wheel, inhaled, then let out the biggest and most painful scream he has ever voiced.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" He shouted. "BABIES!? I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE A DAD LET ALONE HOW TO DEAL WITH-" He pointed in the opposite direction "THAT!?"

Eddie breathed heavily, trying to wipe the tears out of his eyes. He shouldn't be the one having a breakdown right now. John was more terrified. He was an abnormal having plant babies. Three of them. Eddie knew for sure he would never ever leave, but he really needed to express his human feeling without scaring his boyfriend further.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He hit his steering wheel before turning off the truck and getting out.

One thing he was uncertain about was this anger out of nowhere. Maybe he was a little upset that John didn't tell him sooner, but he also couldn't blame him for it. He was upset because he felt that John was the one. So eventually down the line they could get married and adopt a few kids. But seeing as John can get pregnant, and is pregnant by a plant he can't help but feel jealous. He wanted to have kids with John first. Instead he lost to a fucking flower.

Inside he grabbed his sheet music, guitar and shot a quick email to his band saying he's taking a break for the next couple of months to work on the album before getting together to practice. His new focus was on John. After all this new album was dedicated to him.

He paused. The new song he came up with the night before. It wasn't just John's heartbeat he heard. It was also the babies. Now he really had to write that song just in case something did happen. That way John would have something to remember them by.

"Don't worry John. You aren't alone in this. I'm going to be the cool dad."

John was still sitting at home,he’d eaten and he felt slightly better but it wasn’t enough. He started the shower,locking the door and shakily letting out a breath as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He lifted his shirt up to reveal his tummy.His stomach bulged out from his torso,he lightly slid his fingers across his skin. He became overwhelmed with emotions,he let out a soft whimper as warm tears fell from his chin. He threw the shower curtains open and stepped into the stream of lukewarm water,sitting down in the tub. John covered his face with his hands before letting out a heartfelt cry. “I’m sorry” He kept muttering and over,curled up in a ball as he sat in soaked clothes. Plants began to grow off of John, small vines began to cover the walls and covered John's skin. Little flowers blooming off of him and the vines “I can’t do this…”he yelled sullied by the sound of the shower.Not realizing that Eddie had just came through the front door,John couldn’t stop the tears;he’d wanted a family for so long but not like this. He felt like Eddie said he’d stick around just out of pity, he’d ruined their relationship. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d ruined it all. He snapped out of it when he felt the babies shifting around and it hurt this time. He feared he was stressing the babies out.

Okay so Eddie took a detour…. Maybe two detours, but it was so going to be worth it… maybe. He finally pulled up to John’s place and got out. He slung his guitar onto his back and grabbed the bags that held the surprise.

But when he stepped out, he felt something was off. The plants outside were looking wilted and dry. He quickly locked the truck and went inside.

“John?” He called out to nothing.

Bitty came running up to him meowing up a storm as if to scold him that he took too long or that something was wrong with John. He went with both. Quickly setting the bags down and taking off his instrument, he followed Bitty to the bathroom. He could hear water running and long gnarly looking vines popping out from under the door. Eddie panicked. He tested the knob and thankfully it was unlocked but then he opened the door he was face to face with a wall of dark vines.

“John? Where are you? I’m back!” He called out, hoping that he could get to his boyfriend.

If he knew that the man would get this upset, he wouldn’t have left and waited until he got home. He tried to reach out to tear the vines but they had thorns. Cursing under his breath, he had to think of something. The water was too loud for the occupant inside and the place was getting steamed with the hot water. It could wilt them further.

“Bitty, what do I do?” He asked the cat.

She murped at him again before going back to the door, rubbing up against his guitar case. A lightbulb went off inside his head.

“I hope your dad grows catnip because you deserve it.”

He ran over to his case and pulled out his guitar. It was a practice one, but electric like he usually used. He ran into the living room to find the sheet music he wrote down and started to play.

The soothing sound of guitar filled the living room as he inched closer to the wall of thorns. He remembered the melody of John’s heartbeat as well as the babies. It was one good skill he had that was music memory. He continued to play, leaning across the wall from the bathroom. Eddie held his breath as the vines started to unwind. Strumming the tune over and over, putting meaning to the melody, the little house started to come back to life. The plants were looking lively and wiggling around, as if they were dancing with his song.

Finally, after a few choruses, everything was back to normal except for a very tired and stressed out John. He was soaking wet in his clothes and his eyes were red with tears. Eddie set down his guitar and stepped into the bathroom, rushing over to turn off the water and find a towel. At this point, he didn’t care about seeing John naked. He needed help and he was going to do just that.

John didn’t say a word as he was helped out of the tub and stripped off his clothes. Eddie kept his mouth shut but still showed the frown of worry. Once John was dried off, He let him stand for a moment as the singer went to get clothes. John was finally dry and warmed back up after 10 minutes. Eddie wasn’t going to even bring up another upsetting thing. It was their day to relax.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” The dark haired man tried to keep his frustration in. “But I had to make a few stops.”

He left John alone to dry his hair as he went to get the bags. He set one down and pulled out a bunch of John’s favorite candies. “I know you love your sweets and now I know why, which means the babies do too. So I wanted to give you a congratulations gift in a way feeding all four of you.”

The second bag he set down and pulled out a very large maroon hoodie. It was lined with a warm fleece and looked very baggy. “Since you keep messing with your clothes and fall is around the corner, I assume you’ll be getting colder sooner because of the vegetation you have mixed in your blood. It should hide the pregnancy for a long time, and you look really hot in dark red.”

John gave a small smile at the comment and looked up at Eddie. “Thankyou Eddie” He’d finished drying his hair and was pretty pleased at the small gifts that his boyfriend brought home. “Listen I’m sorry about all of this” He sighed after putting on the large maroon sweater,it was comfortable. John had seemed a bit more calmed down,he adjusted the hoodie and sat down on the bed “but I guess we're just gonna have to deal with it” John motioned for Bitty to come up to him and she hopped into his lap. He picked her up and cradled her like a baby,thinking about the ones to come “I figured if we ever got far enough to marriage then we’d have kids,but..you know” John walked over to Eddie and leaned on him “I liked your song by the way” John loved the little family they had already with Bitty and Eddie. “ I’m lucky I have you and I’m grateful you chose to stay” John did have a fear that Eddie had decided to leave him,and that’s why he was gone so long.

Eddie relaxed, so relieved that John was calming down and accepted the gifts. They sat close, enjoying each other’s company. He blushed a little when John talked about marriage and kids.

“We can talk about details later, right now I’d want to focus on what we have now.” He let out a sigh.

His heart warmed when John complimented on his song. It melted further when John thanked him for staying. Eddie wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, bringing him closer for a kiss.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave. I’m not a deadbeat. I’ll help you in any way I can.” He smiled. “As for the song, I have to thank you and your little trio. The beats I heard last night are the base for the song I played. It’s going to be a work in progress but once i’m done with this project, I hope it’ll become your favorite.”

The two were blushing mad and once again, John’s stomach growled with hunger. The two ended up laughing, Eddie pulling out his phone to order a rich meal. John on the other hand snuck a few of the sweets while he watched his boyfriend order them a feast.

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.

I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me. 

HnM 💕

Tag-list: @steggy4ever​ @library-trash​ @watevermelon​ @glimmadora-ble​ @persephones24​ @dragonempress123​ @your-pri-ncess @broken-from-fandoms​ @hot-pocket01​ @tsukineho​

Month 1, Month 3

--Month 2--

No.

You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.

However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.

No. No. No!

The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.

“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet. 

Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.

How could this happen? How could you be… pr...

A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.

Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.

You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.

Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.

Well, excluding his rippling muscles.

You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.

You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!

With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.

But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Swollen eyes.

Red nose.

Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.

“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.

The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’

The little shits.

“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.

Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:

Boss Lady

[2:50 pm]

Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.

Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.

Think. Thin.

No carbs. No red meats.

NO ALCOHOL!!!

Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.

Kimi:

[3:31 pm]

Hope you made it home safe last night!

As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone, 

Boss Lady

[4:45 pm]

Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.

You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.

Tomorrow.  5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)

Inches! Inches! Inches!

You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.

Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.

Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?

When do people even start ‘showing’? 

You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.

Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?

You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.

Or damn kids for that matter.

Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?

To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.

Until now.

After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

You paused.

Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.

That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…

Shit.

Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.

But not even they could save you now.

Fuck you really were alone.

That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.

So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?

The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.

The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.

Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.

Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.  

“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression. 

“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”

His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”

“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain  sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.

“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”

You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.

“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”

Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I…  didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”

His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--

“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,

“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,

Shit! What the fuck were you doing?

You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible. 

“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled. 

From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.

You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’

 He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.

In fact.

As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.

One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”

“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,

“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again, 

Deku:

[1:00 pm]

Good Luck on your runway thing today!

You:

More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨

Deku:

I could help? Bring comfort snacks?

You:

Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB

You would literally be stampeded by women

Wait that sounded too good🤔

You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***

Deku:

You haven’t been eating?!

Since when?!

You:

That’s not what I said. 

Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️

Deku:

Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.

I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!

If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,”  Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.

You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.

You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.

“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.

Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”

All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”

Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.

You:

[1:33pm]

I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪

Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?” 

You hadn’t even notice that you had been.

Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it. 

But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.

Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act. 

You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?

The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi. 

You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent. 

The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.

“W-what sizing you up?!”

You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”

“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”

The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.

“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use. 

You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.  

“No. That’s not what I meant I—”

“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,

“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him. 

“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”

Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,

“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.

“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”

“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”

“Y/N!”

“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did. 

“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin. 

You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”

“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”

You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.

“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”

You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self. 

Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him  look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.

His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”

“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.

“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly. 

“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.

He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century. 

Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”

Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze, 

“Wha...?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”

“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock. 

“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor?”

“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?

“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”

“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”

“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you. 

“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”

He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...

The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.

Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed?  Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.

Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.

It made things extremely real. 

Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party. 

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK* 

When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?

The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so. 

Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.

The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all,  “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”

A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves. 

“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”

“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself. 

“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...”  You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.

“Agency? Hero agency?”

“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.

Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that 

Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time! 

He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).

What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?

“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,

“What the hell are you doing, round face?”

Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust. 

It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest. 

But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,

“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.

He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.

 As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard. 

“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”

The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze. 

“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”

“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully. 

“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer. 

“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.

“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued,  “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”

“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”

“You just live your life like normal!”

“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”

Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within  yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.

You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.

As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.

“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!

“Just really damn tired suddenly.”

“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”

“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house, 

“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”

You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape. 

You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away. 

Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--

“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you. 

You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift. 

“We need to talk!” 

One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway. 

“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed. 

That’s when it hit you. 

“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization, 

“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.

Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.

With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”

[bearbaitmegs]

I know I don’t have a lot of active followers here, but I’ve been going though some major changes in my life recently (both good and/or disorienting), and one of the things I am aiming to achieve with that is to reestablish myself online in some small way. Just casually, socially. I used to enjoy interacting and making friends online and some of my oldest friends remain people that I met through the web.

I hope these sporadic personal posts don’t bother you.

I think part of these changes that I’m aspiring to involve getting into the habit of simply posting more. I honestly am unsure of where to migrate to online outside of Tumblr. I’ve ditched Facebook except to check on businesses I’m planning on visiting and occasionally to sell something. I’m only on Snapchat and Instagram to follow one person. I haven’t logged into DeviantArt in almost 10 years. Yahoo 360 is long gone. Adjusting to Discord has been a slow and lurking process because it reminds me of some particularly haunting memories and it lacks most topics I’d be interested in (publicly, at least). Twitter never fit right. I refuse to engage with people on Ao3 or ffn because I’m very hesitant to engage with people who has the same media interests as I do because I’ve had far too much fandom-related trauma and drama and I still have trouble forming friend groups despite 9 years of distance

My brother has an undiagnosed and untreated personality disorder and it has often felt like his drama has been my defining feature for almost 2 years. I have gotten tired of carrying his monkey into all of my relationships and conversations, especially when trying to make new ones. I wish I had custody of my nephew because he and his ex are both sucky and neglectful, but all I can do is wait until the kid turns 18 or asks about emancipation. My brother deliberately seeks out relationships that renew and reinforce his past traumas in order to legitimize his unwillingness to move on and I hold him at least partially responsible for our parents’ decline in emotional, financial, and physical health. I recently opted to go for No Contact/Very Low Contact with him and it’s been freeing and refreshing and I feel immensely happier and more motivated. 

I frequently feel like I don’t have anything worth saying or cannot really think of anything to say. It’s a work in progress. I have always carried a sense of awkwardness and that continues to persist into my 30s, despite the fact that I generally consider myself a confident person. I’ve been in a romantic relationship for 5 years and it fulfills 95% of my social and emotional needs, which... I think has led to leaving many of my other relationships to pasture.

Instinctively, I want to reach out and rectify all of these relationships all at once. Of course, it doesn’t work that way, and in trying to pace myself I find I often procrastinate. I set myself a goal of reaching out to a friend per week, but it’s more like one every two weeks. I know some of us will pick up where we left off like we’ve never been apart. Some of my friends will have moved on and our re-connection will separate again because we’re just different now and I’m honestly not bothered by that. It’s normal. I just hesitate because I don’t know where to start even though the script should be so easy. I feel annoying and needy. “Hey, I hope you’re well! I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I was thinking of you today every day.” Ugh.

I’m pretty financially, mentally, and physically stable and have been for a while. I like my job and I’m paid very well! I like me! I like my hobbies and my apartment! I’ve worked very hard to get here and there’s really only a few key things I want to improve upon.

But somehow I feel like I’m rediscovering myself again. Like I was shut out of something and didn’t even realize there was a door. I’ve missed something. I’m naturally comfortable alone and tend to be willfully obtuse about things that don’t involve me only to get startled by them later.

I moved back to my hometown 2 years ago in order to introduce my partner to my family and be around for some major family events. It was supposed to be a 4 month summer visit. The family drama just never stopped and I’m just...still here. I can’t wait to leave, but I also don’t resent my hometown as much as I did when I left. It’s changing immensely, but so am I. I definitely won’t be able to afford to stay.

I had a patio garden over the summer and, while we hardly got our money’s worth out of it, it was pretty and tasty and fulfilling. A few of the plants are overwintering with us.

I still haven’t lived somewhere that allows me a pet, but I keep saving stray cats. 

I have way more fabric than I know what to do with from old clothes and dead ideas, but I finally tuned up my sewing machine and bought a set of sewing machine feet and I have lots of plans and ideas that I just need to sit down and actually execute. Especially embroidery.

I finally spent the damn $70 on an old school drawing tablet and took the time to download some free art programs. A modern tablet is still too much to budget for and a mouse and MS Paint is not enough. I do not know why it took me 10 freaking years when I’ve spent far more money on far less desirable luxuries.

I am hoping to find a decent enough mountain bike at a manageable price to do a long-distance cycling trip next year. If I don’t, I’ll divert to hiking a long-distance trail. I’ve never stopped craving spending weeks and weeks out in the woods with an overstuffed backpack since my first trek in 2016. I’m willing to go out of my way and budget hard to make it a reality on an annual basis.

I’m slowly picking away at my original story, JatGSL, a 10+ year Work In Progress, and I finally have a setting and characters that I feel good about and have a lot of fun imagining. I’m afraid to say much about it. It has dying androids and mushrooms and mythology and domesticated seals and braille and it takes place on a melted Antarctica. But my writing is a muscle long neglected and I don’t know if I’ll ever really get it back.

I sometimes think about moving some of my old fanfics over to Ao3 so they won’t be lost, but my old penname carries weight I’d rather not pick up and I don’t want to add anything else to JKR’s legacy and some of the things I wrote when I was 17-22 have aged pretty poorly. So, I hesitate and debate and do nothing.

I keep having simple, but neat ideas that nobody out in the market seems to be doing/making, but I lack the connections and knowledge to do anything with them.

My romantic partner is an amazingly perfect fit. Absolutely well-fitting, in-sync, mind-blowingly complementary in every way. I increasingly worry it might not last because my partner has 1 (ONE) key issue that I just can’t live with long term and if they can’t figure out a healthy way to cope I don’t know if I can go another 5 years dealing with it. I grew up with it. I won’t live with it.

It often feels odd to talk about myself (even here. even now) because I feel so much happier than I seem to be describing myself.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, Mockingbird.”

Based on a request I received in my asks for some fluff. I think you guys will like it, or at least I hope you do :) 

He couldn’t  remember much of the last few days. Everything was a blur of motion, pain and dizziness. He couldn't tell if he was staying up or lying down or running in circles or spinning inside an F-90 Darkfire going nine times faster than the speed of sound. It felt like he was constantly pulling almost 9-Gs staying awake was impossible, but at the same time, so was falling asleep.

He felt horrible, sick.

He thought he remembered throwing up a few times, but he could have been wrong.

However, he did remember the aching, a pain that throbbed through his body like he had a horrible flu. His muscles ached, his bones ached, his blood might as well have ached. Everything around him echoed, the lights pulsed in and out. 

He was nauseous and so very, very cold.

The shivering ache in his bones did nothing to help the horrible throbbing of his muscles, especially the muscles in his back.

He thought he heard voices a few times, mingling with the echoes and spinning with the lights over his head. The world began to spin to his left, and he tried controlling the nausea like he would in the cockpit of a jet, but for some reason all his normal tricks weren’t working. His stomach churned.

He fell in and out of consciousness.

His eyes opened and then closed. He was on his side, or at least he thought he was. The nausea wasn’t so bad anymore, but his mouth tasted horrible.

He closed his eyes against the spinning.

He was falling backwards now.

And he was so so tired. His head was resting against something soft, now something hard. More voices echoed.

He tried to make them out, but every time he did he only felt more horrible, more nausea building up on his insides.

“Anything.” The voice faded in and out plunging downward, deepening and stretching out for long minutes forcing him to miss the rest of the conversation. He tried to open his eyes, and was almost immediately blinded. The lights above his head warped and twisted stretching one way and then flattening in the other direction.

Then it doubled and they began to dance back and forth against each other.

“Adam.”

The sound echoed in his head as if it had been yelled into a narrow canyon.

He had trouble remembering what the sounds meant.

His head was throbbing.

More lights.

He flinched away squeezing his eyes shut and immediately fell back in. The nausea overcame him again followed by the dizziness and the vertigo until he couldn’t open his eyes.  He spun back and forth and back and forth his muscles aching, his body throbbing. The shivering got worse , and it wouldn’t have mattered if there were blankets or not. 

He just felt so horrible.

That could have gone on for an eternity as far as he knew. An eternity of spinning, bright lights and echoing voices  interspersed with uneasy moments of sleep characterized by horrific nightmares. Nightmares that contained faceless monsters, strange alien creatures and his own inevitable failure.

And then he fell asleep, finally.

It started off in small bouts of silent restfulness, a deep and soothing darkness that relaxed his body and calmed his mind. When he floated towards the surface, almost awake, he could hear voices, and thought that he could at least understand them.

“How is he today, doc?”

“He’s doing better, sleeping more. The drugs took a real toll on his system. I doubt the admiral was entirely correct about what exactly was in those drugs.”

“He’s lucky to have you. He wouldn’t have survived the overdose otherwise.”

And then he was gone again, sinking back down,

He would have had no way of knowing how long he was out, and when he woke up again, just a little clearer than last time, he heard.

“Why not a medically induced coma, at least then he wouldn’t be in pain.”

“I determined that this was the safer decision in the state he is in. Don’t worry, things are slowly getting easier. He’s sleeping hours at a time now.”

Another voice, “no more vomiting, though that may be just because he’s running on empty.”

He let himself sink away this time, finding that he was getting better at controlling it. He stayed longer this time, curled up in the safety of the darkness where it was warm, and pain free. However, this time he was woken up by a voice.

“Dr. Katie thinks you might be able to hear us. Says you sort of drift in and out.” Though the ache in his body was still there the familiarity of the voice eased his mind, “It was…. An honor to fight with you. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances..” A hand rested on his upper arm, “For a human, you make a pretty good Drev.” 

Something warm touched his hand, or at least he thought it was his hand. When it pulled away his hand was wet.

“Waffles misses you. We haven’t been able to move her without her getting really agitated.” Something soft caressed against his fingers, a soft whimpering pulsing through the air. Soft waves of air to caress his ears. 

He tried to open his eyes, but the dizziness hit him again and, suddenly, he could hardly function. He sunk away again occasionally aware of a furry, warm snout nudging his hand as he slept.

“Hey, Commander…. Adam. yeah anyway, Sunny thinks we should talk to you, so Mav and I are here….er Ramirez.”

“So eloquent.”

“Shut up it's not like he’s expecting a soliloquy, what do you want me to do compose shakespeare.”

“I’d Like to see that.”

“Shut up, anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted/, we are, the crew i mean, are all rooting for you, and we will be here when you’re ready to wake up. Also, please wake up, the spiderlings haven't stopped freaking out since you went under. I can’t exactly tell if they are crying or not but they are making some weird ass noises…. How about you Mav, you got anything to say?”

“Just if you don’t wake up in the next week, I am going to shake you awake and kick your bitch ass for making us wait so long. I am not a patient person.”

“As empathetic as always Mav.”

This time he felt as if he had been asleep for longer, feeling rather than hearing people pass through. He recognizes some return offenders, though some of them were there for a purpose.

“You know, Comm- I mean, Adam. Sometimes I blame you for making me more human. You took away one of the things that made my life easy, and then you gave me empathy. Now I, well having my friends gone hurts. It doesn’t make any logical sense from a proper Vrul standpoint .But you made me into…. Not much of a vrul anymore . You gave me empathy, and friends, and a social life…..” silence, “And I fucking hate it…. But at the same time I don’t. You hear that, I both hate it and don’t hate it at the same time like that is possible. I’m making as much sense as a human .”

More drawn silence.

“Look, I know what you said and how you acted in the suit weren’t you, but I just….. I need….. … I need you to wake up, so I know, so I know that everything is ok between us. The anticipation is killing me more than anything.”

He felt warm inside, and the shivering was dying down. He supposed that was a good thing, and following that moment he thought he might have slept the entire night through, though he could still tell that opening his eyes was going to be a problem. When he awoke, he awoke to a melody, someone signing quietly.

He recognized it, a distant memory from and even more distant childhood.

The song must have been thousands of years old, and for that reason it was….. Sweet.

“Still gets me today that a thousand years ago someone’s mother was singing their baby to sleep with that.”

A soft hand on his.

A gentle touch at the IV in his arm, “Hope you don't mind me singing to myself, or talking. I don’t usually do it when krill is around, he wouldn’t understand. Or maybe he would, but…. It feels weird. I was pretty weird you know, never really figured out why. Guess that’s what I get for wanting to be a librarian when I was little. Became a doctor instead, “ Dr Katie  laughed, “My how things change. Its honestly crazy to me you ended up with the exact job you wanted….. Bet you didn’t think it would be this hard ....” She trailed off, and there was silence for a long time before she began to sing to herself again.

Her voice wove patterns through his dreams

Hush little baby don’t say a word

Moma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.

He spun slowly around and around in circles descending downward.

And if that mockingbird don’t sing 

The warmth grew back up around him, enfolding him from all sides like the embracing arms of a lover.

Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.

He could have slept for days after that dreaming on and off barely knowing what was real and what was inside his head. The world didn’t spin anymore, and his body only ached slightly. The nausea was simply a general discomfort through his darkness, and he could ignore it easily enough.

“You better wake up soon. Seems like you have been in here long enough.”

Was that Conn? 

Couldn’t be.

“You dirty rat bastard.” Nope that was him alright, “I expect you get out here soon….. It is rather lonely in my head….”

Other hands, other voices, other confessions, some cold some warm, felt through his insides like each person was pouring liquid of different temperatures into his blood, pumping through his chest and heart. 

Eventually, the world stopped spinning completely, the echoes died away, and he was left alone in his own head finally with the ability to think consciously, as conscious as he was between bouts of sleep. The nausea was still there, but it might have been due to hunger more than anything else.

The next time he woke up, things were different. The last time it had been as if he was rising through dark water only to be separated from the surface by a pane of one way glass he couldn’t crack.

This time, the pane of glass was gone, and light and sounds poured in around him.

He first became aware of sound, the quiet muttering of conversation, the beeping of machines, and the clattering of tools. Someone was laughing distantly.

Secondly, he was aware of a weight pressed against his side. It was soft and warm, and as he lay there he felt it move. Something rested on his stomach, just under his chest. Whatever it was let off a long drawn out sigh and a yawn.

Lastly , there was light.

For a second he thought he had gone partially blind, but realized his eyes were still closed.

He stayed like that for a little bit, adjusting before.

Flexing his fingers.

And immediately noticed the absence of the steel eye armor.

The relief was incredible. 

His hands were stiff, and the joints ached a little, but slowly he was able to open his hand.

Moving was harder, and it brought back the muted ache from earlier.

His fingertips brushed over sheets as his hand moved up brushing fur, and the warm muscled body underneath.

He stroked a hand through Waffle’s fur.

The lifted her head in surprise, then, with a whimper scooted forward resting her head on his chest nosing him with her snout.

He lifted his hand to stroke her ears.

She licked once as his face catching him in the jaw with her warm slimy tongue.

There was a creaking noise just to his side, “Hey, Girl, everything alright?”

The dog whimpered.

Whoever it was stood.

“Krill.” 

He tried opening his eyes flooded with light before blinking. The dog whimpered again.

He turned his head from the lights trying to blink away the haze.

“Adam. Can you hear us?”

He blinked a few more times squinting against the light until the world around him slowly resolved, light fading backwards.

First, he saw the ceiling, and the overhead lights, curtain rods with the curtains pulled open, an IV bag, medical machines. Looking down he saw his own feet under blankets, and finally the warm worried eyes of his dog. The look she gave him was one of such sincere concern  that, for a moment, he was worried he might be dying. Upon making eye contact she scooted even further forward resting one paw on his chest  snuffling at his face and licking him across the cheek.

“Easy girl.” someone said 

He turned his head a little further brows still furrowed falling on a familiar spidery form floating to the side.

“Adam?” Krill said again.

It took him a few seconds to understand turning his head to the other side where a tall blue figure was standing her gold eyes struck with worry.

He turned his head back to Krill.

“We’re good.”

The dog continued to nuzzle at him rubbing her head against his shoulder trying to get his attention. Overhead the two aliens relaxed visibly, “What was that?”’ Krill asked leaning forward to look him over.

“You wanted to know….. If we were still good…..” Trying to talk past his dry nasty tasting mouth was unpleasant. He smacked his lips, “And I wanted to say that we are.”

The relief broke even further.

Krill was speechless.

Sunny laughed in relief, or at least the equivalent for a Drev.

Dr. Katie poked her head around from the right side curtain, “You’re awake!”

He had both hands up now patting the dog’s ears as she frantically nuzzled forward tail slapping against the bed railing. His right hand was taped up, the tube of an IV sticking into his hand.

He was still very fuzzy and tired.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Better than…. I was…. Before.” A light flicked from one eye to the other, and he squinted, “Hey…” Even his mechanical eye didn’t seem pleased.

“Just making sure your brain is in tact. 

“It never was.” He mumbled.

The dog had  her head resting on his shoulder now, “Surprised you…. Let her stay.”

“I was worried she might bite me.”

Sunny patted the dog’s back.

“Hey, Krill there are a few people at the door come to check in on the Commander.”

“Tell them to stay out. The commander needs his rest.”

Adam raised a hand, “Wait… no… it's ok.”

“You can barely string two words together.” Krill scolded

“Just five minutes and then....” His voice was slightly slurred, “And then I’ll do…. Whatever.”

“Fine, five minutes.”

He closed his eyes briefly listening as feet shuffled across the floor, and soft voices murmured up around him.

“Commander.”

He opened his eyes to see a huddle of marines standing at the end of his bed. Ramirez, Mav, CJ and a few others.

“You alright?”

“Terrific.”

“They must have you on some good drugs.”

“Actually no…. Due to the nature of his stay, he’s actually sober right now.”

The marines laughed, only to be silenced by Krill, “If that’s the case you definitely need sleep.” Ramirez patted his foot, “Don’t let us get in your way, rest, relax, do what you need to do.”  They were ushered out as quickly as they had come, he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. The dog’s breath was warm against his throat from where her head rested on his shoulder.

Off in the corner he watched a set of white ribbons gently waving in the subtle air currents of the ship.”

“Welcome back,” Said a voice, unbidden inside his head.

“Bitch.” he thought.

“Dumbass.” Came the reply 

He leaned his head back the pillow cool and soothing against his aching neck. He reached up a hand absently letting it hang in the air until something took it. Sunny’s skin was warm compared to his own.

His head lolled sideways.

And he was gone.

[imjusthereforbatfam]

Never-Ending Encore, ch.5

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Chapter Summary: Okay, listen. Listen. Eden may have agreed to this, but are we absolutely, positively sure she needs stitches? Yes? Er… Okay. But are we, like, SURE sure or...?

Warning: swearing, blood, describing injuries, mending injuries (on a wuss) 

Also!!! Apparently, you’re not supposed to use rubbing alcohol or hydrogen peroxide on cuts cuz their chemicals are too harsh and can damage muscle tissue. I grew up using peroxide on my cuts and didn’t know you weren’t supposed to until after I’d already written the majority of this chapter, so like… don’t do this irl. I’m just lazy and using alcohol works really well for the story so blah

—

Chapter 5:

Eden leaned her head back on the low wall behind her and stared up at the clouded sky. She huffed for what felt like the hundredth time. At this rate, she was going to be completely healed before Red Hood even got back...

She took another peek at her sliced palm. The cut was about a third smaller than it had been. Would Red Hood notice? Probably. It was hard to miss.

Should she— she shuddered. Should she try to reopen it a little with her nails?

She moved her hand away, gagging at the thought.

Nope. No way. Forget that. If it was noticeable to Red Hood, she would just play it off somehow. Distract him or something. Play dumb. Cry. Whatever it took but she was not going to reopen it. It shouldn’t heal much more before he got back, anyway. He promised it would only take a few minutes for him to get what he needed and get back. And, despite feeling like she’d been sitting on this rooftop for hours, Eden knew that wasn’t true. She was just getting antsy.

She put a hand to her neck, gently moving a finger across the gash there. It was fairly long, running from the dip between her shoulder and neck down to the crook of her collar bone. The knife nicked her jugular on the way down, too. That was how she’d become so lightheaded so quickly. Even now, her shirt was still wet with all the blood she’d lost.

She was lucky her body healed the way it did. The process was by no means instant, and sometimes it was too little too late, but more often than not it was just enough to save her from unnecessary encores.

Actually, still running her finger along the jagged cut, Eden was a bit surprised. Usually, an injury like this would be far more healed by now. Yet, somehow, the cut on her neck didn’t feel any smaller than the first time she’d touched it. True, it wasn't as deep as it had been – Eden could just… tell it wasn't – but on the surface, it was mostly the same.

Was it her? Had she gained some control over this part of her power without realizing it? Maybe. Or maybe she'd just lost so much blood that replenishing it was more important than mending the rest of her body. Or maybe her body magically knew that healing too fast wasn’t a good idea this time. Or, maybe, it was just mending itself like this, like a snail trudging across a bone-dry desert, because she hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime.

Her stomach growled on cue, confirming her suspicions. Eden groaned. Now that she wasn’t drowning in her own thoughts or missing a remarkable amount of blood, she was fully aware of her body’s needs. And, boy, did it need food.

 “Would you—”

Eden shrieked in surprise as Red Hood announced his return by swiping her hand away from her neck.

“—stop messing with that?”

“What in the—!? Where in the heck did you come from!?”

“Hell, obviously.” He knelt down in front of her, taking a small black bag off his shoulder. “Couldn’t you tell?”

“Oh, of course,” she said rolling her eyes. “I thought I recognized the accent.” She smacked her forehead theatrically. 

Red Hood let out a small, amused sound as he unzipped the bag. Inside was a swath of medical supplies. He dug around a moment then pulled out a white cloth and bottle of rubbing alcohol.

Eden eyed the bottle as he unscrewed the cap. “I hear the weather’s lovely in Hell this time of year,” she continued, hiding behind the joke. “Good time for a visit.”

“Nah," he said playing along. "It’s hot as balls right now."

She chuckled. “Ain't it—” Red Hood turned to her urgently and Eden quieted.

He said nothing. 

“Um…" She shrank down a little, unnerved by his wordless stare. "Everything okay there, Mr. Hood?”

He studied her another moment then eased back. “Yeah. Sorry. You started laughing so I thought you might…” he drifted off, looking at her neck. He shook his head and went back to prepping the cloth. “How do you feel?”  

She shrugged. “Fine. Better than I was.”

“No more gagging fits?” He glanced over at her and Eden shook her head. “Good.”

She eyed the drenched cloth in his hand, thinking back to all the times she'd put alcohol on someone else’s cuts and scrapes. She’d never had to use it herself, not even when she was a kid, so she didn’t know what it felt like. All she knew was that other people often hissed or groaned when they used it. Even Nate, arguably the toughest of her semi-siblings, would wince if alcohol went on an open wound.

“Is that going on my neck?”

“Yep.”  Red Hood brought it closer.

Eden leaned away. “Is it going to hurt?”

“I mean.” He gave a half-shrug, half-nod like it was obvious. “Yeah?”

“Okay, but like…” She slunk down against the wall, growing quieter. “How bad is it gonna hurt? Like… bad or… really bad?”

Red Hood tilted his head in thought. “How’s your pain tolerance?”

"My...? Oh. Well, it's... um..."

No matter how she got hurt, Eden was always fine in the end. But in the moment? When it was actually happening to her? Or, if it was a trade, when it felt like it was happening to her?

“Not great,” she decided. But, then again, who didn’t experience excruciating pain while dying? “It’s hard to say. It might be normal but… I’m not really sure. I certainly don't like pain, if that helps.”

“Alright, better question: have you ever used alcohol to clean a cut before?"

“No,” she murmured sinking into her shoulders. “Never.”

Red Hood turned his head upward and let out a deep noise, something between a hum and a sigh. He glanced toward the little black medical bag, then down at himself, then around them. Searching for something, perhaps.

“Look—” Eden straightened herself up, drawing his attention. “Look, why don’t you… Why don’t you just do it, okay? You being all,” she made a gesture, “this is freaking me out more. Just throw it on there and if it hurts, then—”

“When it hurts. I’m not just slapping it down," he told her. "I have to actually clean the cut.”

“Oh, okay!” she said in a much higher pitch. “Great! Wonderful! Then when it hurts, I’ll just— I’ll— I’ll kick you or something! And it’ll be fine!”

Red Hood cocked his head. “After all I’ve done for you, you’re going to repay me by kicking me?”

Eden blinked at him. “What? Oh! No, no! I didn’t mean— I wasn’t really going to kick you! Of course not! I wouldn’t actually— Okay, I mean, maybe in like a knee-jerk kind of way, but not on purpose or anything! And even if I did do it on purpose, I’d probably hurt myself more than I’d hurt you, Mr. Hood – I think we both know that – ‘cause it would just, you know, be like a, uh, little baby kicking you or something. More sad than anything, really; just downright pathetic, and, honestly, you'd probably feel bad for me and have to pretend it hurt 'cause I'd just be holding my foot and crying, and—” 

Red Hood snickered loudly, cutting off her senseless jabbering. He turned his head and covered the place where his mouth would be but his shoulders kept shaking.

Eden’s whole face went up in flames. He'd been joking. And now he was laughing at her. Again.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” she grumbled turning away from him. She pushed her hair out of the way and offered up her neck. “Will you please just get this over with before I make a bigger fool of myself?”

“Hold on.” Still fighting back laughter, he reached for the bottle again. “I need to add some more.”

“More!?”

"Yeeaah," he said shaking his head oh-so-solemnly. "It dried out while you were talking." 

“Uh-huh, yeah, sure." She turned and pinned her eyes on the skyscrapers in the distance. "Go on and tease the panicking person, Mr. Hood. Very kind of you. Very classy.”

"What can I say? I'm such a kind, classy guy."

A laugh nearly tumbled out of her but Eden quickly fought it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. The sound of fresh alcohol spilling onto the cement wiped her suppressed smile clean away.

“Oh god.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

“You’re gonna be fine, Cookie Girl.”

“I am not gonna be fine!” she threw back. “This is awful! This is horrendous! This is— This is torturous!”

He scoffed, close to her neck now. “Don’t be such a baby. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“I know! That’s what’s so awful!”

“Do you want to hold my hand or something?” 

Eden knew he was mocking her. She did. She just didn’t care. Her good hand clutched at the fabric of his leather jacket. The other wrapped around the exposed skin between his glove and tight, armor-like sleeve. Her mending palm warmed quickly against his skin.

He cleared his throat. “I was joking.”

“Well, that's too damn bad, Mr. Hood! Don’t go making offers you don’t wanna bank on! Now, would you puh-LEASE just get this over with!? I’m seriously starting to freak out here, and I really don’t appreciate the whole ‘Let’s draw this out as long as possible ‘cause it’s funny’ shtick, ‘cause it’s not funny, and I for one really don't appreciate—”

“Okay, okay! I’m doing it, I’m doing it. Sheesh.” He moved forward and ran the cloth over her torn skin in one quick motion. Eden shrieked and clutched his arm.

The burn was intense— sudden— unlike anything she’d felt before. Her eyes misted as she forced herself to breathe through clenched teeth.

Every so often, Red Hood gave her small words of assurance – that she was doing fine, that he was almost done – but Eden could only focus on the pain. Liquid fire bubbled and seared its way deep into the wound. She dragged the soles of her shoes against the cement, desperate for relief. Eventually, she tore her good hand away from Red Hood’s jacket and pounded her fist against the floor. She grabbed his sleeve again and held it tightly, trying not to cry.

When he finally finished, Red Hood carefully removed her good hand from his sleeve and put it on top of the cloth. “Keep this here, alright?”

“I don’t like this,” she sniffed, her voice wavering. “Why do we have to do this. I hate this. This is stupid.”

“You’re doing fine, Cookie Girl,” he said softly.

She half-huffed, half-whined in disagreement.

Red Hood turned back to his little black bag and dug around with his free hand. He made no indication of needing his other hand, so Eden didn’t let go. Every time the frothing, stinging burn flared up again she dragged her heel across the floor and gave his arm another tight squeeze. If it bothered him, he didn’t show it.

“So.” He pulled a small pouch from the bag. “What kind of trouble are you in, anyway?”

The furrow in her brow deepened. “What do you mean? I’m not in any trouble…”

“Right.” From the pouch, Red Hood took out a curved needle, some thick tweezers, and what looked like a spool of blue fishing line. “Because only someone not in any trouble would beg someone like me to patch them up instead of going to a hospital.”

“Hey now!" She let go of him and pointed to herself. "I didn't beg for nothin'. I just refused to go to the hospital. You're," she jabbed her finger at him, “the one who’s insisting on doing this nonsense.”

He scoffed and swiped her hand away as he threaded the needle. “Would you rather I didn’t do this nonsense?”

“It feels like the devil himself is pissing on my shoulder right now, so... yeah, to be completely honest, I’m kinda wishing you didn't.”

Red Hood stopped. Stiffly, he turned his head toward her. Eden shrunk back from the sudden, severe emotion coming from him. The heat of his hidden gaze, amplified by the glaring eyes of his helmet, was hard to meet.

“I’m sorry,” he said harshly, “did you want an infection in your fucking neck?”  

“No,” she said quietly.

“Then what about having a huge scar for the rest of your life?”

Knots formed in her stomach. “I’m not worried about scars,” she mumbled stubbornly.

“No? Then how about that cut reopening?” he shot back. “How about bleeding out a second fucking time when there's no one around? How about fucking dying? Are you worried about that?” he hissed. His distorted voice was sharper and more searing than Eden had ever heard it.

She sank further down the wall. It wasn't hard to understand why Red Hood was so worked up about this. She glanced down at the slick, sticky river of blood that had flooded her shirt and pooled down her torso. She'd lost so much so quickly... If she were a normal human being and the cut did reopen, there wouldn't be enough blood left in her body to survive it. She would bleed out and die just like Red Hood said.

But Eden wasn't normal. The cut wouldn't reopen. And even if it somehow did, it wouldn't kill her. Her body had already made up for most of the blood she'd lost — she could feel it. And even if it hadn't, even if the damn thing did kill her, it's not like she would stay dead anyway. The universe would demand another encore from her, just like it always did, and her heart would start again. Just like it always did.

Eden eyed the needle in Red Hood's hand apprehensively. He was going to put that into her skin. Into her cut. He was going to sew her up like an old ragdoll and she didn't even need it!

What would it feel like? Would it be small but sharp like getting pricked by a sewing needle? Strange and agonizing, as if she were being carved up by a tiny knife? Quick and exasperating, like getting her ears pierced again before they finally understood why the holes kept closing up? Or, would it feel like something she’d never experienced before — like the molten, frothy sting of alcohol on an open wound?

And, even worse, the stitches would eventually have to come out. Her body would be perfectly healed within a day or two – at most – and would leave no scar. There'd be nothing to suggest she’d ever even needed stitches in the first place. Even if she could find a way into a hospital without alarming her mother, how would she be able to explain that? She wouldn't. She'd have to remove them herself.

She could just... tell Red Hood her secret, of course. Avoid the whole kerfuffle that way but... But that was stupid. Yeah, he was trying to help her now, and, yeah, he’d save her before, but being a metahuman wasn’t something you just… told people about. Not even heroes. Eden wasn’t that stupid.

In fact, the only people she’d ever told were the “cousins” she considered siblings. And even then, unless they actively needed her powers, she only told them after years of knowing and trusting them. It was her greatest secret, and, as far as she was concerned, only family needed to know it.

Well. Family and whoever the hell Frank told, apparently.

Eden was still upset about that. People – people she didn’t know; people her mother didn’t know; total strangers – knew about her powers now. Frank had told the people he worked with about her without her knowledge or consent. He swore they were trustworthy, that they were merely interested in the science and what it could do, but that didn’t mean much to Eden. After all, he wasn’t even family. Not anymore.

She'd thought he wanted to be. Despite all the years of silence, of absence, she’d hoped he wanted to be when he suddenly reached out and asked to see her again. But when they finally did meet up, after all the backflips and hoop-jumping they’d gone through to keep Mama from catching wind, he’d treated her more like a business venture than a daughter.

That stung more than alcohol ever could.

“Well?”

Eden glanced up at Red Hood. Waiting, with needle in hand. Likely angry, or at the very least upset, with what he must’ve thought was a very stupid, very weak, very ungrateful little girl. He certainly wouldn't be the first.

She looked away again and let out a slow breath. Carefully, she removed the cloth from her neck, hissing softly as she did. She wordlessly offered up the wound a second time. He shifted closer, putting a hand near the cut. Eden flinched and he stopped again.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, softly, sure he was getting more irritated by the minute. “I’m sorry, I just…” She shook her head, fighting the shameful urge to cry. “I’m just," she choked. "I'm just no good at this stuff."

Red Hood said nothing. Eden wondered if silence was how he showed his disappointment.

After a moment, his free hand moved from her neck. He held it in front of her, his palm up. She stared at it, unsure of what it meant.

“It doesn’t hurt too bad,” he said gently. Eden's eyes lifted in surprise. “It does when the needle goes in," he continued, still soft, "but it’s more weird than painful, I swear. If you need to, you can still…" Red Hood looked to the side and started mumbling. "Y'know.” He bobbed his hand. “Hold my hand or whatever...”

A rebel tear ran down her cheek. Eden sniffed and quickly brushed it away. 

This... This was Gotham’s most-contested vigilante. The mob boss. The murderer. The one everyone and their mother had an opinion on. The one they said could never, should never, be considered a hero. This guy. The one who insisted on helping a stubborn, panicky, annoying civilian all night. The one who got downright pissed when she tried to brush off life-saving care. The one who did not rebuke her for being so pathetic, so weak, but instead shyly offered her comfort.

She couldn't wrap her head around it. People called Red Hood bad, immoral, unforgivable, but how? How could anyone think of him like that? Even if he'd done awful things... Even if he still did awful things... Red Hood clearly wasn't an awful person. He was thoughtful. He was kind. He was good.

Had any of the people who said those nasty things actually met him? Did they know how tender he could be? How sweet? Maybe they hadn’t and his rough reputation simply preceded him. Or maybe Eden was a fool who couldn't see the true cruelty hidden beneath a masterful facade. Or... maybe she was one of the lucky ones who got to see past the facade, who got to see the heart hidden underneath.

Eden gingerly took his hand, so, so grateful. “Thank you, Mr. Hood,” she whispered, hoping the words would be enough to convey at least a small fraction of what she was feeling.

He grumbled something back — his voice garbled more than usual. 

Eden smiled and giggled softly, feeling outstandingly lucky.

“You ready now?” he muttered.

She nodded. "Ready."

He moved forward again, slowly this time — giving her enough time to stop him if she needed it. She squeezed his hand in anticipation. He took it as a go-ahead.

There was a sharp prick at the base of her collarbone followed by a strange sliding sensation. Like he’d said, there was a sharp, shooting pain each time the needle went in or out of her skin, but it wasn’t too bad. The real issue was the silk-like thread. The slick feeling of it running in and through her skin, tugging pieces of herself together… It was off-putting. Nauseating, even.

Eden tried not to squirm too much. When the needle pierced too thin a piece of skin, she squeaked and scraped her shoe against the ground as Red Hood muttered an apology. When the tugging made her nearly gag, she zeroed in on the scruff marks along his jacket, breathing slowly as she counted them up.

When none of that helped, she would squeeze his hand, silently begging for strength. He squeezed back, readily giving it whenever she asked.

“There,” he said pulling the needle through one last time. He tugged the thread firmly. “Can I have my hand for a second?”

Eden let go and watched as he tied off the string and cut off the excess.

“So…" she tried. "How do I get them out?”

“They’ll dissolve or fall out in a few weeks’ time. No hospitals necessary.”

She nodded slowly then let out a breath of relief. "Thank you," she mumbled.

Red Hood studied her a moment. He lowered his head slightly and stayed that way, something clearly on his mind.

Then, as if forcing himself, he reached for her cut hand. Eden jerked it close to her chest.

“Are you gonna put stitches in my hand, too? That would hurt worse, wouldn’t it? Since it’s my palm?” She snuck a glance at the cut as she spoke.

The first time she’d looked at it, it ran clear across her palm from end to end. There’d been thin cuts across some of her fingers too. She honestly couldn't remember when it had happened in the fight or how, but she must’ve grabbed for the knife at some point and been holding it by the blade when it was roughly pulled from her grasp.

Now, the cut was much smaller. Only about an inch and a half over the center of her palm. She couldn’t even tell where the smaller slices on her fingers had been. She imagined the skin there still looked a little irritated, but – because it was dark and her hand was still coated with blood – she couldn’t see it.

“I might not have to,” Red Hood said holding his hand out for hers. “The neck was definitely worse, but let me take another look at it.”

Nervously, Eden took one more glance at her palm then handed it over.

Red Hood inspected it a moment then tilted his head. "Huh."

She panicked. “What!?” she shrieked, startling him enough to look away from the cut. “Is it bad? Do I need stitches? Please don’t say I need any more stitches, Mr. Hood, I really don’t think I can handle going through that with my hand. Please say I don’t. Pretty please?”

He glanced down at it again. “You don't.” Very gently, he ran a thumb over the cut. “It’s a lot smaller than I remember…”

“Oh, thank goodness!" she said in a fast voice. She started tugging her hand away. "So we’re all good then, right? No more patching up? You can just take me home now?” 

Red Hood let out an amused hum and started packing up his supplies. “You trying to get rid of me?” 

“No, not at all! But," she brought up a finger, "if you bring that alcohol crap anywhere near me again, I really am going to kick you.”

He scoffed and batted her hand away. Then he paused and dipped his head. “Actually," he teased, reaching for the bottle. "Now that you mention it—”

“No. No, no."

“We really should clean it."

“Nope. No. Don’t you dare.”

“Aw, c'mon, Cookie Girl,” he said waving the bottle. “Just to be safe?" 

“Mr. Hood, I will kick you and I will do it hard.”

He laughed, stood up, and offered his hand. "You gonna cry when you do?"

"No! ...Maybe." She took his hand. "Shut up."

—

Feedback is always appreciated! 🥰💕 

Chapter 6

[valkyrieskwad]

I HAD A DREAM ABOUT ROJASCORP FUCKING AGAINST A FRIDGERATOR IM FREAKING OUT

here you go, my friend. dreams do come true.

you want it all (but you can't have it)

AO3 LINK

tagging @narraboths just because.

___________

Miraculously, the only thing keeping Lena from dying of sexual frustration is the heat.

It is so fucking hot outside: hot enough that the tiny summer house that her and Andrea call "the hotbox" feels more like the devil’s armpit during a Vegas trip, hot enough that they’ve started sitting in lawn chairs in the garage, taking turns sticking their heads in the deep freezer as Andrea tries her best to get Lena into Faith No More, singing while the sun goes down.

It’s hot enough that Lena’s hair is sweated to the back of her neck and her clothes are sticking to her skin, and even though they’ve been drinking since the late afternoon, the beers still aren’t managing to settle concretely in their system. Not like Lena wants them to, at least.

She wants to be drunk. She wants them both to be drunk, both at that point where the world is twirling and nothing really matters because everything is fucking funny, at that point where Lena could open her mouth and say i sometimes think about you when i touch myself, and Andrea would just throw her head back and laugh at it while Lena thinks about putting hickeys on her neck.

But they’re not drunk.

They’re both tipsy at best, and fucking touch-starved, and Lena hasn’t shaved in three weeks because it all seems less important when she’s down to showering every two days. She doesn’t know how much longer she can survive this quarantine, like jesus fuck. If the heat doesn’t kill her, the fact that she hasn’t been having sex with Andrea probably will.

"If I could only listen to five songs for the rest of my life, this song would definitely be one of them," Andrea says, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her feet on her lawn chair. "It’s amazing, right?"

Lena doesn’t really care for it, so instead of answering she asks, "Which one is this again?"

"Lena," Andrea drags out, letting her feet fall back to the garage floor. Truthfully, Lena knows the song, but listening to Andrea talk about music is almost as good as getting to touch her. "It’s Epic. It’s pretty much the one song you need to know even if you forget everything else. Mike Patton rapping is so fucking infectious, I swear. Another day of listening and you’ll be singing along."

"I’m sure," Lena smiles, then Andrea smiles too, and it makes Lena’s belly drop thinking about licking her lips. "Is it my turn for the deep freezer or did I go last? I can’t remember anymore, too fucking hot to think."

"Who knows," Andrea shrugs, sighing and settling back in her chair. "If you want it, it’s yours. I think I’ve given up trying to survive and accepted defeat."

"I’m almost there with you," Lena says, fumbling out of her chair, leaving her beer on the floor as she walks over to the deep freezer. It’ll be too warm to drink by the time she goes back to it, but it’s too hot to care about how much she’s been wasting all day. She throws the lid to the freezer open and leans inside of it. "We’ve had the air fixed twice, why’s it still not working?"

"Maybe we’re being punished for something we did in an alternate universe," Andrea says, and her voice feels closer, Lena thinks, right before she feels Andrea sliding next to her. They decided earlier that it was too hot to share the freezer, but maybe Andrea’s forgotten about that. "Do you think we’re friends everywhere in the multiverse?"

"I don’t think I could ever not love you," Lena responds without thinking about it, and then her body flushes so fast she feels prickly all over. It’s not even a big deal, she tells Andrea she loves her every day, but in her heart she knows it’s not what she meant this time.

Still, she lets it sit between them.

Andrea just hums for a second, then she says, "Yeah, I don’t think I could ever not be with you, like. Fuck, it’s so dumb, but sometimes when I look at you, I feel like, I don’t know." She laughs a little, then she finishes the sentence— "I just feel how Adam must have felt looking at Eve, like you were made from a part of me or something."

"Oh?" Lena asks.

"Yeah, it’s fucking stupid, sorry," Andrea gushes. "Is it too weird? It’s too weird."

"No," Lena says fast, and then, before she can stop herself, "I think about you sometimes when I touch myself, so. You’re not weird, I am."

"That’s not weird," Andrea says, so fucking nonchalant, and Lena makes the mistake of twisting her head to see the crisp blue of her eyes. "I mean, I think about you too when I do it. It’s just normal, right?"

"I guess it is," Lena mumbles, heart in her fucking throat, belly twisting in knots imagining Andrea imagining her when she’s, god. Lena looks away, drops her head further in the freezer, not blinking until the cold starts to sting her eyes. Fuck it. "I think about kissing you, too. All the time. I can’t help it. Sometimes sitting next to you on the couch, I just. My mind gets stuck on it, you know? Like, what if we made out?"

"What if we made out?" Andrea says back, and Lena’s ears burn the three seconds she thinks she’s being mocked, before it hits her that Andrea’s actually asking.

"What?" she asks, lifting her head again, looking at Andrea again, drinking in her eyes and her lips, and her lips, with very little regard for subtlety. "What do you mean?"

"Make out with me," Andrea shrugs. "I mean, we have shit else to do, so."

Lena wants to kiss her with every single fiber of her being, and that's maybe why she shouldn't. She stands up straight, turns toward Andrea, and starts with, "Andy," to let her know she's being serious. "I was just saying. We don't have to, though."

"But I want to," Andrea says, and it's hard to argue when she's three inches away, when she puts her hands on Lena's hips, hot against her skin even through her tank top. "I know you want to, too. You just said."

"Okay,” Lena says, and she's not sure what to do with her own hands. She knows what she wants to do, wants them in Andrea's hair, wants to feel her, to touch her, to explore every inch of her until they find a way to melt together in this fucking heat. But she's not exactly sure what's appropriate.

"It's okay, just go with it," Andrea says, and then she leans in and kisses Lena, and Lena's hands find a way to her hair, anyway.

She wants to describe the kiss. She wants to be able to think about it as they do it, so she has a reference point, a way to go back to it in her brain and replay and replay and replay it later. But she can't think. Her body feels like one giant nerve as Andrea spreads her hands out across her back and ass and skin, tasting Lena's lips, licking in her mouth, making it so hot between them that Lena feels like she has to choose between kissing and breathing. Between living and dying to live.

It gets more intense by the second, though, more frantic desperate needy, until they're both grabbing at anything they can, breath hot, lips and teeth and spit clashing between them.

"Fuck," Andrea pulls away, then her voice drops as she whispers, "C'mere," and Lena's heart stops beating as Andrea undoes the string on her shorts. Everything is moving so fast and so slow, like time doesn't know what to do, like they're dodging bullets in the Matrix. "I wanna touch you, is that okay?"

"Um," Lena says, rough like she's out of breath suddenly, heat tugging her belly so low it only aggravates the pulsing between her thighs. "I haven’t um, in a while," she mumbles, dumbly, hoping Andrea gets what she means.

Andrea laughs, pressing their mouths together again to kiss Lena, hand slipping beneath the elastic of Lena's boyshorts. "I literally could not care less," she says against Lena's mouth. "Let me touch you."

"Okay," Lena agrees. "But, pretend you like it. Tell me only hipsters prefer hardwood over carpet."

Andrea laughs again, this time deep, from somewhere in her belly. Lena laughs, too. The way she only does with Andrea on a hot summer night, standing over the blast of the deep freezer with the garage door half-open. "I don't have to pretend," Andrea tells her, fingers inching down until she finds Lena's clit, skin practically burning against it. "I love every second of this."

Fuck, Andrea makes it feel so familiar, like it's just another Tuesday and Lena's not slow riding her hand as she gasps against her mouth. She makes it feel like it's okay to be doing this, like Lena's safe and can be open, soft, vulnerable. She makes it feel like everything is okay, so the longer they shift together—kissing touching moaning—the more Lena feels like it's safe to want more. "I want you inside of me," she whispers, seconds or minutes or seriously, what the fuck is time later, hot and slick and so fucking sweaty that Andrea's hair is damp twisted in her hand.

"You want to go upstairs?"

"I think I'd die, fuck, m'already drenched in more than just the intended way."

"Here," Andrea giggles, pulling away a bit and nudging Lena's hip until she turns. And then Lena's being leaned over the deep freezer, thinking god this feels fucking amazing just as Andrea starts to tug her shorts down. "We could do it like this," she says. "You want that?"

"Yeah," Lena breathes, letting her head drop lower. "I want it."

So, Andrea gives it to her, slowly at first. Just one finger and then two, and then Lena's rocking back against her fast enough her mind is blanking and no amount of cold could make her feel less hot. She comes like that, over the freezer, with Andrea inside her, sweat and tears, probably, dripping down her face.

"You're so fucking hot," Andrea says, spreading her hand over Lena's ass, and Lena feels like she's breaking. But she also feels content for once, like she's settling, like her well isn't so full it's overflowing anymore.

She feels good. She feels so fucking hot she wants to strip even her skin off, but she feels good.

[deweysdenouement]

House of Cards

a/n: this has lived in my mind rent free for longer than i care to admit but i only actually wrote it all tonight. somethin’ a little different. somethin’ likely not that good.

or: years after beatrice and bertrand leave vfd, beatrice and frank get trapped under a desk together during a bank robbery. mostly just them, cameos from bertrand, violet, and ernest + much discussion of kit and dewey

TW for guns and blood (nothing graphic, no death)

“Well,” Beatrice says brightly as a bullet flies over their heads and dislodges some beige coloured plaster in the wall. “This is no good.”

“I thought we were just amicable strangers in a queue,” Frank replies flatly, folded up like the origami swans on the tables at his hotel, trying to keep his body hidden under the desk. 

“Amicable strangers surviving a bank robbery together,” she says. “It brings people closer.”

“That’s never been my experience of the world,” Frank says, and it’s punctuated by another two shots, an effect she imagines he rather enjoys. “In my experience, when people get scared, they just leave.”

‘Well,” Beatrice says, as her heart breaks behind her ribs, “I am actually stuck here right now.”

“You haven’t changed,” he replies, and a hint of softness creeps into his voice. “I thought being a mother would force you to learn to actually listen to people.”

It’s a dig, and an accurate one at that, but they might be dead in a few minutes, so she leaves her arsenal of words she could throw back at him alone. Partly because she’s listening for the footsteps of the man keeping them all in here, partly because Frank looks more pitiful than annoyed.

“I have two children now,” she says softly. “So I should be doubly good at it.”

“I saw. Dewey kept the clipping from the birth announcement in the paper.”

“How is he?”

“You know Dewey,” Frank says, tone carefully even. “If there’s a silver lining, he’ll find it.”

Someone on the other side of the room starts to cry. A few scattered voices hush them.

“He’s not great,” Frank finishes. “So we should try to avoid dying here.”

“We’ll be fine,” Beatrice says easily. “They just want the money. We’ve got nothing to do with it.”

“Bad timing,” he murmurs.

“Because you’re stuck in a hostage situation, or because you’re stuck in a hostage situation with me?”

Frank smiles crookedly for the first time since they had noticed each other in the queue.

“Oh, the latter,” he says. “If I was stuck here with Bertrand? No complaints.”

“Bertrand could have talked that guy down by now,” she says glumly. “You could run off back to the hotel and avoid any awkward conversation at all.” 

“Don’t you always claim to be some genius with people?” Frank shifts slightly, and she hears the crack of his bones. They’re both getting older.

“I can’t even get toddlers to go to bed,” she says ruefully, and it feels more honest than she means it to. “You think I can stop a hostage situation with the power of love?”

“Well, it would be nice. I have a meeting in an hour.”

“I cannot believe you are worrying about work,” she hisses. “Are you gonna try telling him that?”

“I’ve never seen the emotional card work in the movies,” he says, and she thinks he might be joking with her again. “Who can know what’ll work?”

“I do feel very inclined to tell him I have a husband and two children,” Beatrice huffs, and slides down the smooth wood so she’s half resting on the small of her back. “If anything happens to me-”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he says sharply. His face is closed off again. “Nothing is happening to you.”

“Never knew you cared.” She grins at him, knocks her shoe against his. “Anyone else would have let me have my moment.”

“Kit would tell you to shut up,” he says. “Then threaten to run you over with her taxi.”

“That was definitely her thing.”

“It still is her thing,” Frank says. “We didn’t all stop existing when you left.”

“I know,” she says, a little ashamed. “How is she?”

“How much have you forgotten about us that you think Kit and I are talking about feelings?”

“Good point,” she says, and laughs a bit. “But you can tell, can’t you?”

“I guess,” he hums. “She’s pretty mad at you.”

“That’s fair.”

Footsteps move right past their desk, separated only by a thin slice of wood, and they both hold their breaths for a moment.

“She does miss you both though,” he carries on, and she thinks maybe he’s using Kit as a shield, that they’re not really talking about her anymore. “Probably more than she’s mad at you.”

“I guess you can’t know,” she says.

“I guess not.”

“I really am sorry,” Beatrice whispers. “And you can tell her that, if you want. I think a lot of people would have made our choice if they’d been able to.”

Being friends with Frank, she remembers, is a lot like building a house of cards. There’s a lot of fragile and strategic placing, and a wrong step usually means starting over. It’s a shame this isn’t really a good time to be hesitant.

“I would have,” he says eventually, and she breathes a sigh of relief. “But then VFD made the hotel too critical to their operations, even though we just wanted it to be a hotel. And then there’s my brothers. Obviously.”

“I didn’t know you wanted it to be normal,” she frowns.

“Told you you didn’t know everything,” he says, smiling weakly. “What better way to keep us where we were than monopolising our only source of income?”

“Not very noble,” she mutters, then, “Why do you always talk about it like you’re not a part of it?”

“Don’t start reading into things,” he huffs. “I look at most things from the outside.”

“Well, that’s because you have problems,” Beatrice quips teasingly, and she’s about to make an excellent joke when there’s another round of shots so close to her ear that for a second her head is full of ringing, and then Frank is groaning next to her.

When the ringing subsides and she hears the feet move away and sees the light shining through the holes in her desk, she scrambles over to Frank.

“Oh shit,” she says, when she sees blood on the floor. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, feeling great,” Frank snaps, shifting so she can see the wound in his leg. It’s not deep, and he doesn’t look in any danger of dying, but it still makes her a little dizzy after a few years of mainly cleaning up baby food. “Not the first time.”

“When was the first time?” Beatrice asks, stripping off her cardigan to press it against his leg and trying to sound normal. “And why haven’t I heard this story?”

“Oh, it was meant for Ernest,” he says, and hisses when she applies pressure. “I kept up the ruse. Long story.”

“We have time,” she says.

“Not much,” he replies. “I heard police outside.”

As much as she would like to not be hiding from a man with a gun, Beatrice knows that when this is over, so is this conversation. They’re only trapped here together by freak coincidence and her pulling him down next to her when the first shots went off. He’ll be gone with the wind as soon as the doors open.

“Hey, Beatrice,” he says, snapping her out of her reverie. “Listen to me for a moment and don’t say anything.”

“Fine,” she says. “Don’t confess your feelings for me though.”

“Hah,” he snorts. “Well, if I do, it’s the blood loss.” 

“Making you reveal what you’ve felt all along,” she says brightly. “Come on now, before you pass out.”

“I’m not passing out,” he says stubbornly, and she believes this because she’s seen him go three days without sleeping before. “I just needed to tell you that if I die and you live-”

“Obviously not happening.”

“I said don’t say anything,” he grumbles. “If I don’t make it out of here and you do, I need you to tell my brothers-”

“That you love them? We know, Frank, maybe you should just show some affection sometimes.”

“Will you shut up?” Frank narrows his eyes at her. He’s a little pale and sweaty, but still as sharp as ever. “I need you to tell them one of them can take my place. If they want to. It’s probably easier than whatever they’ve got going on.”

“Well,” Beatrice says. “That’s insane.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion on it, I just asked you to do it,” Frank snaps. “Beatrice, for god’s sake, let a man bleed in peace.”

“You’re hilarious,” she says. “I don’t think you have it that easy though.”

“Your opinion isn’t really part of my life anymore,” he says bluntly, and closes his eyes. “I’d pass on a message for you.”

“Eh,” she says. “I think I’m kinda obvious now. I love my family, I want them to move on, I was very noble, blah blah.”

“Duly noted,” he replies. “You have fun with that.”

Then the doors break open, and there’s a cacophony of yelling, and when Beatrice peers over the top of the desk, she sees that the man who took them all hostage is in handcuffs.

“Told you we’d be fine,” she says. “I know you thought we were both done for, but you gotta learn to listen to me.”

Frank flips her off, and she helps him to his feet, slinging one skinny arm over her shoulder.

Outside, there are crowds of people all with their gloved hands over their mouths and some cheer as the little group of hostages trails out.

“Hi!” A little voice calls, and Beatrice looks down to see Violet toddling towards her at top speed, Bertrand hurrying behind her with Klaus in his arms.

“Oh,” he says slowly when he approaches, and sees Frank with her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Frank says, making some vague attempt to look dignified despite barely being on his feet. “I hope you’re well.”

“Are you?” Bertrand asks, nonplussed. 

“What do you think?” Frank says flatly, and Beatrice nods subtly to the blood seeping down his leg so Bertrand will understand the sudden absence of a filter.

Before Bertrand can come up with any reasonable response to that (and she’s sure he could and she would admire him greatly for it), Ernest is swooping in, and it’s another punch to the gut of a familiar face even if it’s the exact same face.

“There you are,” Ernest says, pulling Frank off Beatrice to lean on him without a word to her. He looks dreadful, but she can’t tell if it’s the present stress or a new normal. “Dewey’s worried sick. Kit drove me here, that’s how dire things got.”

“Hi, Ernest,” Beatrice says. Bertrand stays wisely silent.

Ernest gives her the once-over.

“Thanks for helping,” he says shortly. “You probably shouldn’t come to the taxi.”

“Good call,” she says weakly. “Bye.”

It feels just as hard the second time.

“Bye,” Ernest says, and Frank raises a hand. “Okay, come on, you’re off work for at least a week.”

“It’s a graze,” Frank sighs, and then they’re both gone into the crowd, and Beatrice stands among the bustle of people with Bertrand’s hand on her shoulder and fresh blood drying on her dress.

[allicekitty13]

King Of My Heart

Read on Ao3

Read on FFN

Alice Brandon is a runaway scraping by to survive until the day she meets Jasper Whitlock in a cafe.

Written for Jalice Week 2020 Day1: Vampire/Human

Alice had been living alone, hiding away from the pressures of the world. Five years ago, she had packed a bag in the middle of the night, climbed out her bedroom window, and drove off into the distance aimlessly. Her home life had been... less than excellent, to put things mildly. Her father likely never cared about her; her mother had passed away shortly before Alice's 16th birthday. Her father had remarried within weeks. Even her beloved little sister was starting to look at her oddly. Unable to take it anymore, she left everything she'd ever known behind. Her family hadn't even bothered looking for her, not that she was surprised. Sometimes Alice wondered what they'd told Cynthia about her disappearance... if the younger girl had even cared.

Alice had decided to take up roots in Kennebunkport, Maine, a small town overlooking the Atlantic ocean. People there kept to themselves; they stayed in their cliques inattentive to the going ons of strangers around them, which suited Alice perfectly. Sure, she'd been a subject of interest when she'd first arrived. People had assumed her to be younger than she was, but once she'd proved her age, she was left well enough alone.

She made some of her income working as a tailor, taking in prom dresses, repairing coats, simple work that didn't bring in much revenue. So, she took to pickpocketing, a skill she'd mastered her first year on her own. She'd never been allowed to work a job when she lived with her father; despite the year she left being 2015, he still believed women didn't belong in the workplace. Thus, pickpocketing had been her only means of paying for things as she made the journey northeast. Alice had an inexplicable way of just... knowing things, an ability that had been a large part of her issues back in Mississippi. She always seemed to know what the weather would be ahead of time, where lost items were hidden, little things like that. Unfortunately, it had often gotten her called a freak or accused of being a thief more times than not.

With pickpocketing, though, her gift came in handy; she could discern who the best targets were, what their next moves would be, or how they would react. So why, she wondered, had her intuition failed her that day? Why of all the people in the cafe, she'd chosen to steal his wallet that day.

She'd entered a small coffee shop where she saw him standing near the counter, seemingly not paying attention to anything aside from his phone. She figured she'd be able to quickly pluck the wallet out of his back pocket as she walked by, pretending to be headed for the bathroom. Maybe it had been the hunger that drove her to make that choice, that perhaps she'd gotten too comfortable. Whatever the cause, she hadn't relied on her ability, and he hadn't been as distracted as Alice assumed. He'd quickly grabbed her wrist as soon as she reached for his pocket, his hand freezing cold and firm. The man turned on her quickly with a glare. His gaze softened remarkably as he laid eyes on her.

Pity, she'd assumed, her eyes were sunken, he naturally small frame frail from hunger. Normally people's pitty infuriated her, but something about his unusual golden eyes was captivating. She felt peculiarly serene in his presence. "Can I buy you, lunch ma'am?"

Part of her wanted to turn him down, to submit to her ego. She'd gotten this far in life without any help. Why should she accept assistance from a stranger no matter how charming he may be. Yet, she found herself nodding in acceptance as he guided her to the counter, proceeding to order her a sandwich and juice.

"My name is Jasper," He announced, watching her hurridly scarf down the food.

"Alice," She replied. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm full." He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You're lying." Her guard going up instantly. She didn't trust easily; if this man was lying about being full, what else would he lie about? Still, against every self-protective instinct she relied on to get by, she trusted him.

"Am I?" He smirked at her.

"It's all in the body language. You moved into a defensive position when I asked if you were going to eat. So why lie..." That was when she got that feeling; she just knew, "Oh, you're a vampire. That's lit. Is this like a last meal before you eat me kinda date?"

Jasper looked flabbergasted, "I'm not a vampire!" He whisper-shouted with wide eyes.

"Okay, well, first of all, that was a panicked response, so even if I didn't already know you're a vampire, I sure do now. I'm never wrong, Jasper. So, are you going to eat me... no. No, you're not. Thanks, by the way. I didn't exactly feel like dying today."

"You're a little intuitive, aren't you."

"I just know things."

They stayed for hours in that coffee shop talking. Jasper had walked her home that night, only leaving when she promised he could speak to her again. He wanted to take her on a proper date next time. Alice went to bed, wondering if Jasper had felt the same connection to her that she felt to him. She questioned if he felt just as comfortable as talking to her; if he felt like he'd known her his entire life. It was insane; Alice had spent the past five years since she'd left home perfectly content to be by herself. People made things complicated; people betrayed and hurt you. Nevertheless, Jasper wasn't people; he wasn't even human. So maybe that's why she suddenly felt so very lonely in her studio apartment.

She saw him again the next day; when she left for a walk, he was lingering outside her building. "What are you doing here?" She had asked with a slight blush, silently pleased to find him waiting.

"I wanted to see you again."

Alice's heart raced when he held out a hand; she intertwined her fingers with his noting how it felt... right. Like her hand was made to hold his. Jasper would keep up this routine daily, arriving at the same time every morning just as Alice was leaving her apartment. Their relationship moved quickly from curious strangers to tentative lovers. Within a week, she had felt comfortable enough to invite him up to stay the night.

Late at night, they would lie together, sometimes reclined on her couch, others sprawled out on the bed. The pair had become closed off to the world, living in their own private kingdom they'd created within her apartment. She'd broken all of her rules in allowing him to become so ingrained in her life. She liked to keep people at a distance, never getting too close. Yet here she lay, curled up on her bed with this man. She'd shared all of her secrets with him, told him at just sixteen she'd run away from an awful family environment. She'd explained how she had lived on her own for the past five years, scraping to get by relying on lies and pickpocketing to survive. She told him how she had changed her name, and even hearing the word 'Mary' would send her into a panic, how despite no signs of anyone attempting to search for her, she lived in fear of her former family tracking her down.

His heart had broken for the woman he loved hearing how she had gotten to where she was. He swore to her she would never have to live through anything like that again. In turn, he detailed his own experiences, telling her about Maria's army, his best friend Peter, and his powers of emotion. He told her about the day he'd met a man named Emmett who'd convinced him there was another way to live, how he was able to feed off animals.

Alice asked him once if he'd used his power to make her fall in love with him because she "Sure felt like she was under a spell." He denied any wrongdoing, explaining that he'd cared for her from the moment he'd laid eyes on her. The only time he ever had or ever would use his power would be to calm her from the panic he often sensed.

It was on one of those nights Alice received the call. They were lying on her bed, chatting about favorite books enjoying each other's company when Alice's phone began to ring. "That's strange..." She commented. People only called her to make tailoring appointments; it was far too late for that. The only exception was Jasper, who was lying beside her.

"Answer it," Jasper sat up on the bed, leaning back on one hand for support, gently massaging Alice's shoulder with the other. "I'm sure it's nothing." He grinned, planting a kiss on her temple. "Probably just a wrong number."

"Yeah, you're probably right." She was being paranoid. No one had found her yet, she thought, sliding the indicator on the screen to the left accepting the call. "Hello?"

"Mary." A hauntingly familiar voice greeted her in a malicious tone.

Alice froze in horror, sending Jasper into immediate alert, having sensed the overwhelming emotion suddenly radiating from her. "Are you still there, Mary," The voice taunted.

Alice, still in shock, unable to respond, remained silent as she shook. Jasper wrapped a comforting arm around her, trying to send out waves of calm despite his fury. He didn't know who was on the other end of the phone, but he immediately hated them for causing his Alice to feel so much hurt, panic, and terror. He grabbed the phone from Alice's hand, pressing it to his ear.

"Who is this." He growled.

"I could ask you the same."

"Answer. The. Question."

"Mary's father. We haven't seen the poor girl in years. She's done a good job of hiding, but it's time for her to get help."

"My girlfriend has no family."

"Poor boy, I don't know what my daughter has told you, but I assure you she's a lunatic. It's for the best she get help. Please tell Mary, my wife and I have arrived in Kennebunkport and..." Jasper ended the call, refusing to listen to anymore. He turned his attention back to Alice, who had curled herself tightly into a ball on the bed where she shook silently sobbing.

"Alice..." He lay down next to the girl, heartbreak evident in this voice. "What did they do to you... come here."

She complied, scooting over into his arms; he held them tightly around her, shhing in her ear, allowing her to release all the emotion she'd repressed for years. "They're going to take me away; they'll lock me up."

"Then we'll leave before they come for you."

"What?"

"Alice, I can have you on the other side of the country within two hours."

"What if they find me again."

"I know some people; you learn a lot about how to disappear when you've been alive almost 160 years."

"Okay," Her voice trembled as she nodded in affirmation. She crawled out of bed and began to pack a bag grabbing only the necessities. She'd long ago placed a terrifying amount of trust in Jasper. If he thought he could keep her safe, she would follow him to the ends of the earth.

[allthingsfangirl101]

TL Chapter 4.2: One Accident, Two Points of View

Masterlist

Zac's POV

I looked down to see my hands shaking. My heart rate was raising and I could practically hear my blood pumping. I slowly stood up, barely making my way to the kitchen before the pain got too much. I gripped the edge of the sink and tried to slow my breathing.

The pain was excruciating. My whole body was throbbing. My eyes widened when I realized what was happening.

This is how she was feeling.

"Are you. . . Are you okay?" I reached out.

"Zac?" I jumped at the sudden voice. I looked over to see Dylan walking into the kitchen. "Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I can. . . I think. . . She's in trouble," I gasped out.

"She," he said slowly. I watched as his eyes widened when he realized who I was talking about.

"Your Soulmate?" He whispered. I nodded as I looked back down at the sink, trying to steady my breathing.

"I can feel her pain. How. . . How is this possible?"

"I don't know. . ." He stuttered. He sucked in a breath like he just figured it out. "The only known case where you can physically feel their pain is when. . ."

"What?" I said through my teeth when he didn't continue.

"Is when the other person is fighting for their life. Zac, I think your Soulmate is dying."

I looked over at him with wide eyes. "What do I do?"

He opened and closed his mouth, struggling to give me an answer. "Umm. . . You gotta keep her awake. Keep talking to her. Keep. . . I don't know, man."

I closed my eyes and tried to get my breathing under control. I could feel him watching me as I reached out to her.

"Just hold on, okay?" My inner-voice stuttered. "Someone. . . Someone is going to come to help you. Just hold on."

"Who are you?"

My eyes shot open when I heard her broken voice in my head.

"What?" Dylan asked, his voice soft.

"She talked to me," I said slowly.

"That good!" Dylan said excitedly. "Keep talking to her."

For the next hour or so, I sat on the couch, trying to keep talking to her. She didn't respond, but eventually I heard sirens. I let out a sigh of relief when I realized they had finally arrived to help her. I held my breath, waiting for any sign that she was okay.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before reaching out to her again.

"Please," I begged her. "I don't know what happened, but. . . Just hang on. Please."

                         * * * * *

I woke up a few hours later, my whole body aching. I quickly sat up when I remembered what happened last night.

She was in an accident.

"Hello?" I reached out to her. "Are you. . . Are you there?"

I held my breath, waiting for her to respond. My heartbeat sped up the longer it took for her to say something.

"You okay?" I jumped at the voice. I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when it was Dylan, not her.

"Yeah," I stuttered.

"Really?" He scoffed as he started getting ready. "You seemed pretty freaked out last night."

"Do you normally feel your Soulmate dying?" I mumbled to myself.

I looked up to see Dylan staring at me. In this instance, he looked like a completely different person.

"How is she?" He asked.

"I don't know," I sighed, running my hands through my hair. "I tried to reach out to her to see, but. . . She didn't say anything other than that one time last night. The last thing I heard from her was the sound of sirens."

"At least that means she got help," he said, trying to offer some kind of comfort. "I'm sure she's fine. She's probably asleep or in a coma or something."

"Yeah," I sighed. "I hope you're right."

"Relax, man. Try to get some sleep. You passed out here on the couch last night."

"I have work," I mumbled only half-caring.

"I think your manager will understand you taking a day off to wait and hear if your Soulmate is okay."

                         * * * * *

It wasn't just a day. It's been almost four days since her accident and since I heard from her. I've tried to reach out to her but nothing. I haven't gone to work since her accident and I didn't care. All I cared about was hearing her tell me that she was okay.

I looked up from the book I was reading on the couch when the door opened. Dylan stood in the doorway, an annoyed look on his face.

"Seriously?" He sighed.

"What?" I asked, innocently.

"You're still moping around, waiting to hear from her? It's been like a week, dude. Come on."

"Of course I'm still waiting to hear from her. She was in an accident four days ago. You were the one who said the only reason I would've felt everything she was feeling as if she was dying. She could be really hurt."

Dylan sighed as he walked over and sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing me.

"Look," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I know that night really freaked you out, but you gotta remember that there isn't much you can do until she wakes up. So, you have to get on with your life. Get off the couch, shower, eat, go to work. And while you go about your day, check in with her every few hours. You can't put your life on hold for her."

"She's my Soulmate," I mumbled.

"I know but still," he shrugged as he stood up and left.

I leaned back against the cushions, my book still in my hands. I tried to read, but I couldn't stop thinking about her and how scared she sounded that night. I took a deep breath before reaching out to her again.

"Hello? Are you. . . Are you okay? Are you awake? Please, say something." I held my breath, waiting for her to respond.

"Where am I?" I let out a sigh of relief when I heard her broken voice.

"You're in the hospital," I said, surprisingly calm.

"What the. . ." She started but instantly gasped out in pain. The pain in her voice made my heart jump into my throat.

"Are you okay?" I asked, not hiding my fear. "What happened?

I listened as she struggled to catch her breath. "Hello?" I said softly. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," she gasped out.

"What happened?"

"I tried to sit up." I heard her sigh before she added, "You aren't here in the hospital with me. Are you?"

"No," I laughed slightly. "I'm not. I'm actually in Los Angeles."

"Wow," she said, clearing her throat. Suddenly, she added, "You're my. . . You finally. . ."

I smiled when she figured out who I was. "I finally formed the connection," I said. I hesitated before sighing. "I'm sorry it took me so long, I just. . . There is. . . I was just. . ."

"It's okay," she said, saving me from an embarrassing rant.

"I don't want you to be angry with me or hate me before we even start," I said before I could stop myself.

"I'm not angry with you and I don't hate you," she said gently. "I'm sure you have a reason for waiting this long to connect."

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I can explain everything. Why I didn't connect when we were younger, what took me so long, what finally made me connect. Everything."

"It's okay," she said softly. "Maybe later. I'm kind of. . . You know." I smiled when I heard her let out a small laugh.

"Right," I smirked. "Sorry. So, how are you feeling?" I asked, instantly feeling like an idiot.

"Kinda numb if I'm being honest," she sighed.

"What all do you remember?"

"Not much." I bit my lip when I heard her suck in a breath. Before I could ask if she was okay again, she continued. "I think I was driving home from school when it happened. Or maybe my parents' house. That's it. I was having dinner with my parents and it started to rain as I drove home."

"School?" I asked. "Where do you go to school."

"Oh," she laughed. "I'm not a student. I start teaching in September."

"Wow," I smiled, "that's amazing." My stomach did flips as I heard her laugh.

"I guess," she said shyly.

"What grade are you going to teach?"

"High school English," she said without a second of hesitation.

"Wow," I teased, "so you're like a literary genius."

"I guess," she giggled.

"What made you want to teach?"

"I've always loved English and writing. I used to tutor some kids in our neighborhood growing up and I loved watching them improve."

"Sounds like it's been your lifelong calling." I smiled at how excited and happy she sounded as she talked about her job.

"Pretty much," she laughed. "What about you? What do you do?"

I hesitated. I couldn't tell her I was an actor. That might change things. Instead, I did the next best thing; told the semi-truth.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise," she said, her voice sounding genuine.

"I have a small production company with my brother."

"Why would I laugh about that?" She asked.

"I don't know," I chuckled. "We aren't successful and we're really small."

"Do you love it?"

My breath got caught in my throat at her question. "What?" I barely got out.

"Do you love what you do?" She asked again. "Spending your life doing something you don't love isn't worth it. You should be doing something that makes you excited to get up in the morning."

"I like that," I mumbled.

Neither one of us said anything for the next couple of minutes. I always thought it would feel weird to talk to someone in your head, but it wasn't. It felt almost natural. Then again, Soulmates are supposed to feel natural.

"Can I ask you something?" She said softly, breaking the silence.

"Of course."

"After my car got hit and finally stopped spinning, I thought I heard this voice asking me if I was okay and telling me to hold on. That was you, wasn't it?"

I don't know why, but I suddenly felt nervous. "Yeah, it was me."

She hesitated before asking, "Did you. . . How did you know I was in an accident?"

"I didn't," I stuttered, unsure how deep into this conversation we should go right now. I knew we'd eventually need to talk about this, but she was just in an accident.

"I kind of just. . . Felt it."

Instead of responding, I heard her let out a sharp breath, a small scream escaping her lips.

"Are you okay?" I panicked, quickly sitting up and turning so my feet were pressed to the floor. I waited impatiently for her to respond. All I could hear was her taking deep painful breaths.

"I just. . . I think. . . It feels like my body just woke up and realized it was in an accident yesterday," she finally got out.

"Your accident wasn't yesterday," I said slowly.

"What?" My heart sank when I heard the fear in her voice.

"Your accident happened about four days ago." I finally explained.

"No," her voice broke. I bit my lip, hating the feeling of my Soulmate being in pain.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I waited before adding, "Are you okay?"

"I. . . I don't know."

I waited for her, hoping she was okay. I continued to hear her taking slow, deep breaths as if she was waiting for the pain to stop.

"You still there?" I said when I couldn't handle the silence anymore. "Listen to me. Everything is going to be okay. Just close your eyes, focus on my voice, and keep breathing. You're going to be okay. I'm right here."

She was silent as both of us tried to calm our breathing. I closed my eyes, wanting nothing more than to hold her hand.

"I don't even know your name," she said shakily sounding like the pain was still too much.

"Zac," I smiled.

"Isabella."

"It's very nice to finally connect with you, Isabella. Sorry it took me so long to gather the courage."