#and having relearn and rebuild so much of Yourself

[riddeler]

when I have the braincell to write my coma meta then you'll all see

[o-wild-west-wind]

so I know we’ve been talking about how incredible it was for the Kiss II to be framed in such a realistic way, but I can’t stop thinking about how powerful it also is in the context of Ed’s personal trauma journey.

this is a guy who’s been nothing if not dissociative. he’s been beaten to a pulp, his brain is couscous and he was literally half-dead for a while, and he doesn’t remember the talent show; it’s fairly likely that there’s a significant amount of other shit not just from the past few weeks/months but also his entire life that he doesn’t remember, either. he struggles to stay in the moment, he’s the king of misreading social cues, and he’s so flippantly masochistic that he’s probably been in a state of physical and psychological pain so consistently for so long that he’s assumed it as a personality trait. and now that the storm is over, he’s literally relearning to be a person—he’s fully learning what it even means to be himself again.

given all that, of course he’s going to have a complicated relationship to physical intimacy. while this show is obviously played up for dramatic storytelling, it’s certainly true that trauma fucks up the body as much as the brain; it’s dysregulating, it’s dissociative, and it’s fucking terrifying. it’s a whole process to recoup. and when you’ve lived a life where blocking out your physical cues is a necessity for survival, you will likely need time to relearn that positive feelings of the body can exist without threat, or relearn even to feel at all.

I know all of this is subtext, but it’s just so fucking beautiful to me that a show is willing to show love and trust as that first step to healing. that needing time to rebuild a relationship with yourself and your body is not a barrier to love—that you don’t have to love yourself before you can love someone else, and that love can be a stepping stone on your own journey, actually. trauma is such a difficult topic that is often used quite flippantly in media and while I’m obviously not saying this show isn’t also fantastical and dramatic and exaggerated, it sure is incredible to see the weight it introduces ride out its full impact. it’s something I don’t see that often in media that’s not intentionally written with a trauma focus and i can’t respect it enough for that.

[forever-eternal]

I am having THOUGHTS ABOUT MANY THINGS!!!

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Imagine being bitten in a Zombie Apocalypse.

Imagine your body rotting, but your brain remains intact.

Imagine hoping that a Survivor will notice that you’re not like the mindless ones, but hoping they’ll kill you at the same time.

Imagine finding someone you knew before— a friend, a partner, a family member. Imagine them hesitating to kill you.

Imagine them noticing that you’re still there, in pain and in agony beneath your own rotting corpse— because the virus may have gotten your body and fried your instincts, but your mind and your memories are still there.

Imagine being unable to control yourself for *months*.

Imagine, through sheer determination, you bend the virus to your will so you don’t hurt the one you love.

You can’t control yourself around strangers, but you can do it for them.

Imagine forcing the virus to turn its hunger towards raw animal meat instead of humans. Imagine forcing it to crave the skin of the infected more than the flesh of the living.

Imagine injuries healing but healing so quickly that they usually heal wrong— broken knee? You limp forever now, it healed before they could reset it. Breaking it again to fix it would only make it worse.

Imagine not feeling any pain, very little temperature, and only certain amounts of pressure. Imagine trying to act like you’re in pain if you get an injury, but it’s been months since you’ve felt actual pain and you’re not sure if you’re convincing.

Imagine that other Zombies, who survive off base instincts going into overdrive with the Virus, having a predator-prey response towards you. Imagine them *knowing*, instinctively, that you’re different— that you’re *dangerous*.

Imagine being an Undead repellent without even knowing what you’re doing to scare them off— being the Unaware Apex Predator.

Imagine humans being just as afraid before they shrug it off.

Imagine the other Survivors declare you the Babysitter— since other Undead avoid you you’re the best person to keep the kids safe. Imagine a lot of the younger ones growing up never seeing a zombie (other than you— but they don’t know that) because the other Undead are afraid— the viruses controlling them are *afraid*.

Imagine not rotting as much as other Zombies. In the correct lighting and hiding injuries with strategic layers of clothes, you could pass as human (don’t look at the eyes and the way they’re foggy and the way they glow with the Undead ‘Life’)

Imagine relearning to speak, with fragmented, broken words. Your companion helps and encourages you, but you’ll always speak in slow, fractured sentences.

Imagine your partner/friend/family member dressing you in a way to hide your undead status, and sneaking you into their survivors camp. ‘Why can’t you speak right?’ They ask, ‘Severe Injury’ says your companion.

Imagine having the strength and speed and feral hatred of an Infected, with the calculated rage and cruelty of the Living.

Imagine relearning how to *live* in this new body that you try to hide.

Imagine being the last Undead, hiding in plain sight as Society rebuilds.

Maybe you start to live in a little house in the woods with your companion. Maybe a cure is found and you can finally reveal what you are, get help and relearn to live as a human being once more.

Or maybe you’re killed by another survivor in front of your companion. Forced to watch them try to save you, but you accepted your death when you were bitten— you’re past your due.

Maybe your companion is killed in front of you for bringing you into the camp, and the last dredges of your humanity— that you have fought so hard to hold onto— dies with them.

Maybe you’re captured, scientists and doctors ripping your body apart to find out what makes you *different*. You can’t feel pain, but you can feel it happening. ‘You’re undead’ they say, ‘You don’t need anesthesia.’

Or maybe…you’re worshipped. The Virus took everyone in its path— but you endured it. Your body rotted but your mind stayed clear. Surely you must be divine?

Or maybe you’re just cursed. Maybe you’re never found. Maybe your companion doesn’t hesitate long enough to see…and in the end, you end up just like all the other Infected— with a bullet in your head.

[caffernnn]

Hi! I love your blog 💙 also as a fellow makoharu shipper (I finally watch the Final Stroke) I noticed the parallels of Kiyofumi and Ryuuji vs. Makoto and Haru and they are kind of interesting? Kiyofumi tells Ryuuji that "your swimming makes everyone feel good/happy" similar to Makoto saying that he felt happy seeing Haru swim after his race with Rin (also kind of parallels to episode 9 of season 1, where Makoto tells him he felt happy to swim in the relay with him). Also Hiyofumi saying "Hisashiburi" to Ryuuji, which parallels at the end of the movie with Makoto saying it to Haru. Fans on twitter have said that the Fanbook of Free! The Final Stroke mentioned "Kiyofumi is the indispensable presence of Ryuji Azuma as Makoto for Haru but since he passed away Azuma is alone now and really sad." Sorry for the rambling, I just love the meta ����

Thanks, friend 💚 and YEAH the setup for Ryuuji to see himself in Haru and for his relationship with Kiyofumi to come back in his mind when he sees Haru with his close bonds (especially Makoto) is definitely an interesting one! I think there are more people out there who have spent more time sitting with Ryuuji’s character to properly understand him (I’m trying to be less of a hater) BUT from what I remember (being several months removed from watching the FS movies now) the few insights we got to see into Kiyofumi/Azuma’s past had me curious as to how it would all play into how Ryuuji reacts to seeing Haru’s spiraling trajectory once he chooses to take his advice and isolate. Imagine your grief manifesting into this idea of “I didn’t have a choice, but if you have one, leave before you can have a chance to lose them,” and then not seeing the flaw in that until this kid you see a lot of yourself in falls into that trap and loses touch with himself completely. If the first season of fr! could’ve been seen as a story of lost lonely former swimmers relearning the importance of connectivity through rebuilding (forming a new team, watching Rei learn from the ground up, building skills and trust in each other and everything else), there was ample setup from s3 to the FS movies for Azuma’s arc to mirror that same discovery process. His loss is different (there’s no getting back Kiyofumi for him :/) but there’s still a chance of rebuilding after, connecting after. Coaching is a shot at rebuilding, and the ways he approaches Haru had potential for rebuilding… but I don’t think we got to see as much of that tbh. Part of my delight/frustration with FS is that there are seeds for so many storylines and relationships to care about at this point, but that overwhelm of potential left a lot of avenues not fully explored. I’m not saying that out of all the fun crumbs introduced that the Ryuuji-Haru mentor/mentee storyline should’ve been top priority or anything, buuuut I would be curious to see that whole parallel setup get a proper follow-through. What do they learn from each other, if anything? Does Ryuuji ever realize he’s too close or invested for reasons not related to helping Haru? Do they have a serious talk during his rehab about a way forward that might not involve the pro world long-term, or that might not involve them moving on together? Could there be more moments between Ryuuji and Makoto as he keeps growing as a coach/trainer, since there’s also something interesting there?? Would be curious to see more takes on this 🥲

[sapphicwizards]

Yay! Ok @drchenquill @dyrewrites @smol-feralgremlin @mk-writes-stuff

How to Rebuild a Man

Awakening

There's this idea that the brain is a delicate organ with permanent states that can never be healed once damaged. Thankfully that isn't even a little bit true! We'd just been approaching the problem wrong this whole time. Take a concussion for example. Hit your head or move too quickly before stopping and it can damage some of the connections in there. For a long time we thought that the best way to recover from one was to rest and not do anything too strenuous, like math or music. But that is not how the brain is healed.

The brain is not like a bone or a muscle. The brain is like a city. You don't rebuild a city by telling everyone to stop moving and wait for the buildings to grow back, you put them to work! A brain has pathways like roads and subway tracks. It has signals, like little people, who need to get places. To heal the brain, those connections must be reestablished, and that's not something you can do by resting. You have to walk those paths again and again until they are smooth and effortless.

Even if you can't erase all evidence of the damage, you can heal. Scarred is not the same as broken.

Recovering from a brain injury does suck. It's constant frustratingly hard work. When I first woke up I couldn't remember what language was, but I did remember being able to communicate. Imagine! You know it's possible to express yourself, but being able to actually do it is about as hard as composing a symphony.

I learned how to talk again at 38 years of age. They taught me their own language, but a few years later I started remembering fragments of my native language. Now I speak both fluently again, plus a few more languages like English.

What happened to me was nothing like a concussion though. I was so broken that I wasn't even me anymore. The doctors had to put me back together, sometimes guessing at which pieces went where.

The man I was died thousands of years ago. I am not him. When they rebuilt me, the parts they revived first shaped how the whole turned out. Once I was conscious enough I was forced to take a more active role in my own reconstruction. I think that's the reason you don't remember being born. You're not meant to because being born is hell.

Lucky for me, the future is a nice place to wake up. We can cure just about anything now. Everyone on my ship was frozen for thousands of years in what the doctors called “primitive cryostasis”. They managed to bring all of us back to life, and within 10 years we were all healthy functional people.

Most of the ships that left earth were generation ships: giant interstellar cities where the people who leave hope their descendants make it to the destination. There might have been some cryo ships that made it to their destination, but we don't know of any. Our ship missed its mark by lightyears and drifted for hundreds more years than we were supposed to.

There was much debate about whether it was ethical to bring us back to life.

On one hand, you obviously wouldn't do this to someone you found frozen in the snow, but on the other hand, we went into cryostasis thinking we would be revived. Reanimating our corpses would give us another chance. Didn't we deserve another chance?

Historians badly wanted to talk to us and doctors badly wanted to find out if they could do it. Those early days of relearning how to be a person were torture. I wasn't sentient enough at the time but in those early days the public opinion was pretty overwhelmingly against our renewed existence. It was folly and hubris to do it. It was evil.

It's oddly unintuitive to the average person, but when given the opportunity to live, people will usually take it. We did, and many of us managed to integrate into the strange new world we were reborn into. My shipmates largely lived out happy lives in the new world. I'm glad to be alive and that I get to live out my life in this era. Maybe I'm a zombie, or a homunculus, or whatever you want to call me. Maybe I'm nothing like the man who lived in my body before. But in the end it doesn't matter because I'm someone. I'm a person who gets to live.

So maybe what the Xultans did was evil, but no one cares about that anymore.

Xultan

I'd have loved to discover Xultan as a tourist, but circumstances meant that it's more like a grew up there. I'm lucky to have been able to discover other worlds though. From icy Caerulis to beautiful Lazumdar, even the terrifying world of Aria was a worthy adventure.

The first thing I would have noticed about Xultan as an earthling tourist, is probably the sun. The light that hits the ground is a different color. The shadows are less blue and the light is a bit redder. The next thing I would have noticed about the sun is that it doesn't move. Xultan 4, so far the only inhabited planet in the system, is tidally locked. That means the planet always has one side facing the sun. On earth, our moon was tidally locked to the planet, which is why we only ever saw one side of it.

Living on a tidally locked planet is tricky. It's hard to find a good place to live. One side is getting fried to a crisp, while the other side is always in the cold darkness. You might think that the edges of the sunlight are the answer but that region is wracked with unending hurricane force wind.

When the early Xultan settlers arrived, they hadn't known the planet was going to be like this, but they made it work. They built their city at the solar center where it is always mid-day, and named it Noon. They lived underground for many generations as they worked to build a livable human habitat above ground. Hundreds of years later their descendants get to enjoy a beautiful city in the open air.

When I arrived, the Xultans only knew about one other inhabited world: Lazumdar. A solar system home to a very strange and brilliant people.

It was impossible to know how many other ships full of settlers had made it to the stars. We didn't even know what was going on on earth. In fact, the sun was no longer where it had been before. Maybe earth had mysteriously disappeared, or maybe we misremembered where we left it. One day soon we would have the technology to find out.

You don't leave earth for just any reason. Those reasons shaped the cultures that would become the future of the human race. My ship left during a dark time in history. Our country wanted to be the first to do something, and there just weren't many things left. Sending humans out into the stars was technological folly at the time. The engineers and scientists knew we were being sent to our deaths, but the politicians wouldn't listen. We were just more children sacrificed to the engines of war.

Most of the ships that left were cults or extremist groups. The Xultan ancestors are one of the only exceptions. Of the 9 known worlds, they had been the last to leave. Their expedition was born out of ambition and love for humanity, rather than superstition and fear. They're the product of a better world than the war torn planet I was born on.

Many ships left but so far we only know of nine who made it. There are certainly others. More could still be floating dead in space like we were. Some might be living civilizations who choose to stay quiet. Yet more might just be too far away. After all, we don't know what happened on earth after the Xultans left.

There's a lot we still don't know.

One thing the Xultans did know is that no one had invented faster than light travel yet. Maybe it wasn't even possible.

Then one day it was. A ship was built that could connect the worlds who had been isolated for so long.

It was built on Lazumdar with the help of Xultan scientists and named Narowal. With Narowal, we could finally begin to rebuild humanity from the pieces. It was time to get to work. We could remake the connections and be whole again.

Do you guys want to read a scrapped chapter from my sci-fi WIP? I decided to go a different direction with it but I think the intro is interesting and it's a decent introduction to the worldbuilding.

[rachel-bot-unni]

Healing is not linear. Growth is not linear. It is a constant wave filled with highs and lows, ups and downs, good moments and bad moments, easy days and hard ones. There will be moments of brightness and laughter followed by seclusion and sadness. There will be times where you may go from giggles to tears, and back again. There will be days where you can barely manage to get up in the morning… but, there are also days where you may wake up before your alarm and smile.

Remind yourself of that fact, and remember to cut yourself some slack. Healing takes time, and no one can rush the process. Remember to treat yourself kindly, love yourself fully, and trust that you will make it through.

[simplytheevebest]

Headcanon Time: Farah's Recovery (from the opinion of a non-doctor who did surface-level research and absolutely doesn't claim to know what she's talking about)

Considering how involved and concerned Terra was with Musa's magical recovery, I can only imagine how involved she'd be with Farah's. Musa gave up lost her magic but Farah was "dead" for an indeterminate amount of time(? I can't remember if it was said how long), came back as a force ghost trapped in a fern, and then had to recharge her magic and strength to regain her corporeal form (this is what happened, fight me canon).

But like, taking away the death-not-death magical aspect and just looking at a physical recovery, and setting aside that canonically Farah's body would've needed to be "regained" because I personally much prefer the headcanon that she rose from the grave, spirit and body intact, you can't just jump up from such a lengthy period of inactivity and be fine. It's been anywhere from a few months to a year since the events of season 1 (if season 1 took place during the winter semester and Rosalind took over for the spring semester it's been a few months; if we pick up during the new fall semester it's been about half a year). That's a long time not to be moving or working your brain (also depending on when she was found). Terra mentioned physical therapy for Musa concerning her wounds, and I personally know people who have had surgeries and recovered from horrible injuries and had to relearn how to walk, talk, eat, etc. So I definitely subscribe to the idea that Farah will need this too.

Combining my love of angsty realism and the magic of Fate, Farah has a long road of recovery ahead of her and she's never going to be just as she was before. Like even if you injure yourself in some smaller way, it can impact your health years into the future. I almost broke my toe over a decade ago and to this day it aches in the rain and humidity. Farah's likely already got scars from serving under Rosalind, which isn't going to help her recovery from literally dying either. So right out of the gate she's probably definitely going to have to regain motor function and she's highly likely to need to regain mental strength as well. And realistically there are other world doctors who would step in to properly assess but that sounds exhausting so instead, Ben and Terra are in charge of Farah's recovery and Terra is absolutely going to make sure Farah sticks to it because lord knows Farah won't be diligent. Yet she'll be impatient and frustrated at herself for not being able to walk short distances without her legs shaking or running out of breath, or being unable to pin up her hair because her arms can't support themselves. She might struggle to get her fingers to cooperate to write, or muddle words and phrases in her head and be unable to coherently express them. She won't be able to teach a class, or go on walks, or maybe even eat without assistance at first. She won't be able to do paperwork, or speak her thoughts clearly, or write down what she wants to say if she can't speak it.

There's a whole host of other things that could impact her: impaired motor function, nerve damage, brain damage, crush syndrome, respiratory issues, cardiac issues, seizures, numbness, organ failure, paralysis, etc. Like I've never been buried alive so I can't speak from experience nor do I know anyone that has, but just imagining, magic aside, that she was essentially in a coma underground for a week at least definitely means she's not coming out unscathed. And considering the magic would've saved her from the worst of it (the irreparable life-threatening complications like necrosis or organ failure) I still choose to believe she's going to have to relearn some skills and rebuild her strength because even if she remembers how to walk, she might not have the muscle strength to do so.

Which of course opens the door for so many angsty hurt/comfort fics (and I have read some excellent ones that are escaping me, forgive me) of the teens convincing Farah to take it easy on herself because they love and care about her, or Saul helping Farah with her hair after she tearfully concedes she needs the help. Because Farah is strong and proud and she won't want to admit weakness even when she has so many to support her. And sure, perhaps her recovery isn't that extensive, it depends on your interpretation of her injuries, but these are just a few examples of ways she could be impacted.

And then there's her magic. She's a mind fairy, so if her mind itself is healing there's no way she's going to have total control over her powers from the get-go. Which means intrusive thoughts and feelings of others in her head without being able to block them out, accidental projecting onto others, headaches, and that's just the mind. Farah is also a master of the other magics, so now we're considering random lights going on and off or exploding, liquids boiling over or freezing solid. Plants growing out of control, random flying objects from her haywire telekinesis. We had a glimpse into out of control magic when the Winx channeled it into the stone and forgot to cut it off. Farah is unfathomably more powerful than them, so her magic going off the cuff is problematic and potentially dangerous.

The magic is what's going to get to Farah the most, I think, because so much of her identity is rooted in being the powerful fairy she is, and especially because of Rosalind's influence. With her magic being so uncontrollable, she's going to suggest that the runic limiters be put on herself, and there's not a single person who will agree to that. Farah is going to have to practice what she preaches and be patient and kind with her own magic rehabilitation just as she is with her students. And I think Stella would be an excellent candidate for this, because she's benefited from Farah's teachings the most. And for all of s2's faults, I really did love and enjoy the character development with Stella because she really came into her own this season and demonstrated, to me, the kind of queen she will be, which according to her positive feelings towards Farah in the prequel, is likely very much influenced by Farah. So to have Stella directly involved in helping rehabilitate Farah's magic as Farah did for her is, I think, a great little parallel moment.

Again, I'm not a doctor, nor do I possess any reliable medical knowledge beyond my obsession with medical dramas, which is to say I have no clue what is and is not something that could be a side effect of being comatose and buried alive while also spreading your life force into the plants around you. But this is a show about fairies and magic so I'm allowing myself a bit of slack with accuracy here, because it's become my personal headcanon that Farah required physical, mental, and magical therapy after her nap and it was a long, slow process hindered by her own impatience and final confrontation with Rosalind, in which she was definitely not up to full power and probably would've died for real if, say, Bloom hadn't stepped in to vaporize Rosalind to save her headmistress. I'm just drawn to the idea of Farah's recovery having that ounce of realism that means she doesn't just wake up and go about like it's a normal day. Let her injuries be real and life changing as is the case for so many people, and let her have the support and love of others to rely on. No quick fix. But that's just me.

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Heyy can I request a 3rd part for Zhong x mage reader where they hopefully realize their feelings for each other? Feel free to end it off & add as much fluff & smut if you wish (*^ω^*)

Thanks for waiting anon, lol I just realize that this was almost the same as the previous ask so I decided to do a reader's POV continuing from where we left off last time.

So please enjoy the fourth part in the In Pursuit of Series: 1,2,3

In Pursuit of Love

Summary: You fell in love slowly, unknowingly, and when you had realized it, your love for him had already sunk into the marrow of your bones.

--

1.

Falling back together was easier than the time the two of you spent weeks apart from each other. You found it easier to fall back to your morning routine with Zhongli around than it was to relearn how you lived before. And somehow the two of you had grown closer, more attuned to each other’s thoughts that sometimes there was no need to talk further. It was the intimacy of being known, and by the archons you were drunk on it.

You lived freely and happily, as if all the burdens you had were gone. With Zhongli by your side, it felt like the world had become brighter. Spending time with him, starting and ending the days with him became so natural that you didn’t notice what was already there from the start.

It stood to reason that you didn’t put much thought when Zhongli woke you up with his tongue down your throat or his hands groping your now exposed chest. It meant that when Zhongli took off your clothes in the morning, placing kisses on your neck and leaving visible marks on your skin, you merely thought he was just getting things started to transfer his energy for your continued survival.

It meant that you didn’t think much when you found yourself returning the favor, opening your legs for him, riding his cock early in the morning and not bothering to stifle your moans because Zhongli told you he liked hearing how much you wanted his cock, how slutty you acted when he thrusted his cock in your pussy until it was raw.

You had thought all of his words as dirty talk, not actually carrying any meaning beyond making the sex pleasurable for both of you. And today was no exception, you woke up with Zhongli’s mouth sucking on your nipples, leaving new bruises on top of last night’s marks.

Your pussy was filled with fresh cum and you could taste his cum on the back of your throat. You idly wondered how long had Zhongli been fucking you before you woke up, but such thoughts were thrown in the back burner when you felt his fingers tease your clit and toy with your cum-filled pussy.

“Nnnn!”

With a pop, Zhongli stops sucking your nipples and kisses you on your mouth, tongue entangling with yours.

--

“Good morning” He greeted you with a soft and gentle smile that was at odds with his lewd acts.

“Good morning” You greeted him shyly as you spread your legs wide, and silently asked for his cock. You wanted to be awake this time when he filled you up.

For someone who was fucking you for an indeterminate length of time, Zhongli had a lot of stamina. His cock easily penetrated you again, geo cuffs forming like an absent thought on your wrists as he went in and out of you. His cum acted as a lubricant to ease his cock as it filled you to the brim, stretching your walls and giving you a pleasant burn.

Your ample breasts jiggled from the force of being fucked over and over. Your pussy felt raw but even so you couldn’t help but want more, Zhongli’s dick had ruined you for everyone else. You were quite sure that no one would be able to bring you over the edge the way Zhongli did.

Your entire body felt warm from the lust and the odd feeling that came from Zhongli’s archon energy. Before you could even ask him about it, your thoughts were interrupted by the hard thrust of his cock that had your body arching and feeling the warmth of his thick cum.

Zhongli pulled out and let the rest of his cum shoot on your body, some landing on your face and open mouth.

“Good girl.”

You smiled at him sweetly.

2.

For some reason, it became a common occurrence for you to head to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor with a homemade lunch for Zhongli, on days when you had no case to solve or you had reached a dead end. Today was a latter kind of day, there were no breakthroughs on the Chasm case which Qixing was gracious enough to not hasten you.

Especially since they were aware that you had landed a life threatening curse on yourself.

So now that you had gotten used to spending your lunch time with him, it made you realize that everyone in the Parlor was already familiar with you. You no longer limited yourself to chatting with Hu Tao or the Ferry Lady when Zhongli was busy with his job. Which was odd, now that you’ve thought about it. For all of the claims of your genius and the surprising amount of time you spent with children, you were never good at people.

Or to be more precise, good at keeping people. Your relationships with everyone you’ve met had always been so-so, you could rely on them for information you need, or calling in for a favor but if you could never truly trust yourself with them. You don't know when to call people friends or how to keep the ones you make, you suck at maintaining relationships and the only ones you’ve been able to maintain are from people who are surprisingly stubborn or sticky.

Ones who didn’t mind that you never wrote regularly or you came and went through their life like a breeze of wind. They were people who didn’t mind rebuilding friendship again and again, assuring you in their own silent way that you were wanted and welcome.

Which meant that the present relationship you had with the employees of Wangsheng was an odd change, a welcome one, but odd nonetheless. This was how Zhongli found you, contemplating in silence, in his office.

“Are you alright, dear?” He asked, worry marring his beautiful features.

“Hmmm...yeah, just thinking” You answered with an awkward smile and a heavy feeling in your heart that you can’t quite explain.

“You don’t have to, you know” Zhongli said, reassuring you.

“I really don’t know” You joked with him.

“Talk to the others if you aren’t up to it” He explained and to anyone else it would felt like a slight, a terrible jab at your inadequacy that you never quite got the hang of.

But it was Zhongli.

Zhongli who willingly shoulders the gossip about your relationship with him, who cares for you so deeply that he can give you himself for an indefinite period of time, Zhongli who simply wants to stay by your side and thinks the world of you, who believes that you are good.

And that’s enough to take off the sting from the reminder of your flawed humanity, makes your body relax and you find yourself leaning into his hand that somehow made its way to your face.

You nuzzle into it, a show of affection that makes you feel embarrassed but the weight of Zhongli’s affection, this intimacy from whole acceptance and being known, was an addictive warmth that you feared losing.

“Thank you.”

You hope that Zhongli can hear everything those two words encompass.

3.

The changes stemming from your relationship with Zhongli, mainly this odd but welcome change of being connected to people, and staying in a place for a long while meant that inevitably you end up having a permanent address people can find you.

It was novel to you, the idea of a place being stuck to your name. You said as much to Zhongli, during one of those rare times he had no work and decided to be with you for an entire day.

“How do your friends write to you then?”

“They don’t or well they post a commission to the guild and I pay for the reward” You told him truthfully before recounting the first time one of your friends had done so and it had involved a high ranking adventurer, the guild master of the adventurer’s guild and ending with an entire map of Mare Jivari.

“What were you doing there?!” Zhongli had asked scandalized.

“I was curious and there was no known map of it, so I thought ‘huh? Guess this would give me a whole lot of mora if I did this!’ how was I supposed to know one of my friends would end up pregnant during that time and wanted me to be a godmother?” You replied, slightly offended and amused at the look on his face.

Which naturally resulted in Zhongli extracting a promise from you to never go to dangerous places without him, ever again. And he was so earnest and so seriously worried about it that your grin slid off your face and you gave him your word.

Which then resulted in you feeling slightly off kilter about it. The thing is you never thought that Zhongli would care for you this much, for all of the fucking and the tender moments between you two, you’ve always believed that there was a line somewhere.

A line that dictated the end of his care for you and the beginning of his indifference. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe he wanted to stay by your side, it was just that you’ve always thought he meant it figuratively like he wanted to be kept up-to-date with you when your curse is finally lifted.

Because the thought of Zhongli, coming along with your adventures, travelling with you leaves you just slightly, very slightly, perplexingly happy. It makes you grab his hand and intertwine it together, and Zhongli doesn’t mind, doesn’t care for this display of affection and instead encourages it.

He squeezes your hand twice, and gives you a smile that assures you that you are wanted. A part of you dares to hope that you’d find your home in this place, here with Zhongli and if not, you’re content with him being a place you can return to, a place of reprieve from the life of a traveler.

And this leads to your few friends addressing letters to Zhongli’s place, adventurers from around the world used as glorified messengers for your equally eccentric friends, sending packages or cases in your way. Sometimes, asking for advice or a consultation but more often than not, a mere teasing letter inquiring about your daily life and the new found changes they’ve seen.

“It’s nice,” You told Zhongli, in the middle of reading one of your letters, “having this regular contact with them.”

You don’t notice the way Zhongli pauses in his cooking, just to look at you and your soft fragile smile.

“You can tell them to send their letters here, and I can always go deliver them to you” He offered.

You laughed, thinking that he didn’t mean it but nonetheless happy with his kindness, “If you keep doing stuff like that, you might just make an honest woman out of me!”

And Zhongli says nothing beyond a smile, and you let the moment pass. Willing your heart to calm down and not letting yourself hope for too much, you continued to read your letters even though your mind often drifts off to Zhongli’s “offer”.

Later that night, as you laid in his arms, you began to wonder if the two of you had blurred the lines of friendship and something more.

4.

Sex with Zhongli was always fun and just as exciting as the first time you did it with him. As you haven’t found a cure to your curse yet nor an alternative that didn’t involve an adepti, you felt indebted to Zhongli’s generosity on being your life support for an indefinite period of time.

It meant that sometimes when Zhongli did something that only lovers would, you were content to let it pass. Considering how much of his essence you needed, you were willing to let him enjoy you however he wanted.

It meant that on certain occasions where Zhongli’s libido was unbelievably high, you’d let yourself be led to a secluded to corner of a mountain, a road, or even Liyue’s backstreets to have your panties pushed to the side and be fucked by his thick cock.

You’ve learned how to muffle your moans as his cock relentlessly thrusted into your pussy, hands deftly freeing your breasts from its confines and playing with it. Squeezing and pulling and pushing it until it felt overly stimulated from the attention. Your body learned how to arch itself in the right way, ensuring that his cock repeatedly slammed its head into your g-spot.

The only change between then and now was that Zhongli had gained a preference on muffling your moans with his mouth, kissing you fervently as you milked his cock with your pussy. His kisses was intense, it made your knees weak and felt too intimate between two people fucking for necessity. Which often led to the two of you kissing for a long period of time, even when Zhongli rubs your pussy through the fabric of your panties or simply because he felt like it.

Zhongli was an excellent kisser, that much you could tell from the steadily growing frequency of him simply kissing you, without it leading to sex or having your pussy eaten out. And maybe you were biased with your opinion considering you’ve never kissed anyone other than Zhongli but you were quite sure that he gave the best kisses.

This thought only became more prevalent with each lingering kiss he gave you, the warmth that left your lips tingling. It made you want for something you don’t quite understand or dare to understand. Zhongli made your knees weak, he made you want things you’ve previously given up on, he made you want for a home you could return to.

Zhongli was changing you into someone you weren’t quite sure you truly welcomed and yet you couldn’t help but want and want. Selfishly wanting to tie him to you, to tie yourself to him.

“Zhongli?” Your voice trembled, soft and scared.

Even so in your eyes, he remained smiling, calm and patient as he gently took strands of your hair and kissed its tip.

“It’s fine, I can wait.”

You closed your eyes and bowed your head. The sound of his footsteps gently fading away as he walked away made you feel relieved and aching at the same time.

5.

Despite sleeping separately for the first time since you were cursed, Zhongli’s affection for you didn’t change. Except that he no longer gave you kisses outside of foreplay or sex even still his affectionate looks and smile remained.

It left you disappointed and yet a clarity of mind and heart.

Ultimately, you understood that Zhongli was doing this to give you space, a breather to allow you to make your decision without any bias or undue influence. This allowed you to realize that you had been deceiving yourself for a while now.

Even so you still didn’t want to voice it. You couldn’t even dare to speak of it in the privacy of your mind. So you did what you always did when everything felt constricting. You ran away.

The benefits from being a mage was that you could use the teleportation devices scattered throughout Teyvat. Which meant that it was quite easy for you to slip in and out of 7 nations without anyone knowing. So it was really quite easy for you to get out of Liyue Harbor, use the device in Mt. Tianheng and go to Snezhnaya.

The surprise and alarmed look of Tartaglia was enough to quell your nerves.

--

You raise a bottle of your finest fire water and said, “Let’s drink!”

2 bottles later and you’ve unloaded everything between you and Zhongli to Tartaglia. You sat across from him, legs spread and stretched out while his fireplace blazes on the side and engulfing both of you in warm orange light.

“So you’re in love” He smirks, amused and equally drunk, comfortably leaning in the plush seat of his tufted back armchair.

“I am not” You denied, sinking further into your seat and ignoring Tartaglia’s loud and uninhibited laughter.

“I just like the no strings attached sex and affection” You clarified, “You’ve known about me for a long time, I don’t do well in long relationships.”

Tartaglia takes a swig of his own bottle of firewater, “You do, we’ve been friends for a long time” He smiles at you “you’re just afraid of commitment.”

You look at him, face blank but eyes showing your reluctant agreement and Tartaglia leans towards you, “You’re afraid aren’t you, of what Zhongli would do in the future, about you, me, the Abyss and everything it entails, and Celestia.”

“Maybe.”

“You were never one to let your fears rule you” His voice becomes soft, the unspoken affection bleeding through his words, “so what exactly are you afraid of losing once you acknowledge it?”

“I hate it when you aren’t sticking to your ‘only cares about a good fight’ persona” You groaned out, sitting up straight “you’re lucky I see you as family or I’d curse you right now.���

Tartaglia laughs and ruffles your hair, “Go to sleep and then return to him tomorrow.”

He gets up and makes his way to his bedroom, before he could leave the room you spoke, “Thank you.”

From behind you, Tartaglia smiled and said nothing as he continued on his way. There were some things that no longer needed to be said between two friends.

--

You sat on the edge of the cliff in Mt. Tianheng, watching the sunrise as Liyue Harbor slowly comes to life. You weren’t quite ready to face Zhongli yet.

You wanted to steel your nerves, calm your heart and properly arrange your words. Despite the carefree nature you showed, when it came to the matters of the heart, you always treaded carefully. Gone were the days you fell in love recklessly, accidentally and unknowingly hurting others and being hurt in return.

You wanted to face Zhongli, sincerely, to give him the utmost consideration for all that he had done for your sake. You wanted to make sure, to truly ascertain that what you felt was real and not a mere byproduct of the curse you had been saddled with. Zhongli deserved to be loved for who he was, as he is, and not what he gave up for you. To love him out of gratitude was to trample upon his sincerity, and you didn’t want that.

So you stalled, you waited, you didn’t rush. You simply and slowly worked out what you truly thought, what you felt. By the time the sun was high up in the sky, you stood up and patted your clothes. You slowly made your way down, entering Liyue Harbor, greeting the merchants and the townsfolk that knew you.

Each step that you took made you nervous, despite that you continued to make preparations, you pre-ordered a take out from Wanmin Restaurant, buying Zhongli’s favorite dish, Crystal Shrimp, and Universal Peace.

“I guess, Mr. Zhongli isn’t going to be Liyue’s most desired bachelor anymore?” Chef Mao joked.

You blinked and then laugh softly, “Was it that obvious?”

Chef Mao smiled, fatherly and nostalgic, and then he spoke to you with a wiseness that only came from suffering the vicissitudes of life, “There are things that can’t be concealed easily, one is indifference and the other love.”

Surprised, you stared at Chef Mao who only laughed boisterously, and with his fatherly tone added, “I’m not blind, and I was young once! I can tell if a man is interested or not.”

With a wink, Chef Mao waved you away and you shook your head in amusement as you walked away after paying in full. You slowly made your way to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, taking in the sight of Liyue Harbor in its busiest time of the day.

And as you neared the bridge in front of the parlor, you saw him. Walking slowly over the bridge, a rain of red maple leaves fell as he passed, you slowly halted and stared at him.

Thump thump

Your eyes met his and your heart that was moved by him, began to beat just a little bit faster. You smiled, gentle and soft, filled with unabashed adoration for him and slightly ran towards him. Zhongli smiled at you, eyes reflecting the deep emotions that he had for you.

Time slowed down and ran fast.

“I’m home” You told him as you hugged him and buried your face to his chest.

His arms gently and tightly wrapped around you, “Welcome back”.

There were still things that needed to be said, confessions to be made but for now the two of you didn’t need to do that yet. Not when both of you had finally reached the same place, hearts beating in sync.

+1

“Hey,” You called out to Zhongli “Do you remember the temple that got me cursed?”

“Of course” Zhongli replied, face stern and serious as he remembered that disastrous day.

“Well, I finally found out the story behind it” You revealed as you comforted him, hand gently patting his.

Zhongli relaxed, tense frame slumping a bit in the privacy of his shared home with you. He pulled you into his lap, embracing you and softly asked, “tell me?”

You hummed and began your tale,

“There used to be an immortal, a scrap collector, who was Heaven’s beloved official, and” You paused dramatically “there was a ghost king, a great calamity that the heavenly officials feared. The scrap immortal had the world’s terrible luck, he would experience all sorts of misfortune and tragedy while the ghost king had the world’s best luck, he would never lose a gamble nor a bet.”

You looked at Zhongli, teasing and eyes twinkling, “And these two unlikely beings were each other’s dao partner.”

Zhongli choked, “My dear…”

You laughed and laughed, “surprised? I was too! Ah~ Zhongli that temple was the one the ghost king, Hua Cheng, the Xuè Yǔ Tàn Huā built for his beloved, his highness Xiè Lián. It was the only surviving relic of the place where the infamous Ghost City was located.”

Zhongli blinked, “Then we entered the Ghost Realm?”

You nodded, “Yeah, we ended up triggering an old protection array. I ended up being the receiver of the curse since I was careless when I was fighting, I damaged the statue of his highness and the ghost king punished me for it.”

Seeing Zhongli frowning, you hurriedly appeased him, “Don’t worry! Those two have been gone for a long time now! What was left in there was just a particularly powerful emotion powered curse! So don’t go fighting with them!”

Zhongli sighed, but the frown on his face didn’t go away, “Then your curse?”

“With or without your cum, The curse would have eventually faded away.”

You laughed at his blushing face and decided to reveal one more thing, “Zhongli~ Did you know that when gambling with the ghost king, the only way to get what you want was to pass a test?”

Forehead to forehead, you stared into his eyes, through his heart and to his soul, voice filled with wonder and love, “If you can move his highness, Xiè Lián’s heart with pity, the Ghost King would give you what you want even if you had lost the debt.”

“I-”

You cut Zhongli off with a gentle kiss, and then said, “That day, I heard your prayers, and begged them to let you go. To let me suffer the curse alone, to let me suffer the unbearable pain. Because I couldn’t bear to have you suffer the consequences of my actions.”

“I can suffer any humiliation but my heart can’t bear the thought of you being humiliated” You told him, this secret of yours, the one you kept close to your heart.

--

You didn’t know when you began to fall for him, maybe it was when you had brazenly teased him, “Osmanthus wine, I’ll give this to you so don’t be a stick in the mud!”

Or maybe it was when he had asked, visibly worried, “Are you not afraid of being struck down like the sinners of Khaenri’ah?”

Or maybe it was when he had lowered himself to the ground and cried, “I just want to save her alone.”

There were so many moments that could have started it all but you knew when he had completely taken grasp of your heart.

“Please, let me walk by your side, protecting you and your belief.”

His words that day, fell into your heart like a rock that fell into a pond, creating ripples as it sank down on the bottom and stayed. He had, without you noticing, walked step by step into your heart, and made himself at home in there.

You would forever answer the calls of adventure, the never ending stories the world was waiting to tell you, but you also knew that you would always, without fail, return to Zhongli. To your home and one day you would settle your old bones with him, weathered hands holding each other, and greet each day side by side.

[saintprivateer]

I understand the ideas behind the zemenipearls post but can we not just have a nice fictional world? It’s not like the Kerch are made out to be a great nation of saintly people, it’s all fantasy for a reason. I won’t get started on their posts about my girl Nina and my dude Nikolai 😒

Okay... there’s a lot of ground to cover here so boot up cowhand I wrote a LOT

No matter how unlike-this-world a fantasy universe seems, it was still crafted by a real human who IS a part of this world. And humans put their own beliefs and experiences into their stories as the foundation for how ideal/ not-ideal they want the au to be. We use the environment around us as a stepping stone for our stories, and this DOUBLES if the author is saying “This World Is Not Like Ours At All”. The question authors answer of “What exactly is this au not like?” Rounds back to the place we are trying to distance ourselves from, because that is what this au is “not like.” And most often, authors craft these fantasy universes and bring the reader into a whole new world only to go back to a REAL theme of “This World Is Actually More Like Yours Than You Think.” Because that’s usually the entire point. We like fantasy because we want to see our nature mirrored in worlds unlike ours. We love that people can fly and cast spells, but we REALLY love when they’re as human as us in behavior/interests/ actions.

All that’s to say: you can’t actually write a racism-free world if you’ve never experienced a racism-free world. The ideals we want to portray will still be flawed and not 100% ideal, because the notion we have OF this ideal is fundamentally flawed. ESPECIALLY if we are still unlearning our own fallacies to these ideals. Grishaverse has anti-blackness threaded in the pages because there is anti-blackness on Earth and anti-black fallacies in the ideals Leigh Bardugo has internalized (like any other white person). If we can acknowledge the argument that meanings can be found in stories/art whether it was intended or not, then we have to acknowledge Leigh Bardugo wrote in her own prejudice or anti-black ideals into the grishaverse, whether intended or not. She wanted to write a story removed from the racism we know, and that in of itself isn’t a bad thing to imagine. But she still wrote tropes actively harmful to the minorities they represent.

“Why do you have to look for patterns that aren’t there and nitpick on characters? Why does everything have to be about race? Isn’t it enough that our heroes are TRYING to be good?”

When people say this, they usually mean “Why are you putting this in my face? We (the group not affected) were all doing fine until you decided to be grumpy about something, and I don’t want my ideals soiled by your criticisms.”

Imagine seeing the person who’s supposed to represent you and your identity be repeatedly trashed, ignored, dumbed down, dismissed, killed off, etc etc in canon and in the fandom, and when you finally get the courage to bring it up, the entirety of people not affected silence and threaten you for rocking their boat. You really can’t imagine how that actually feels unless you’ve felt it. When you write off the consistently abusive treatment of a community of people in a book as an inconvenient—and thus invalid— topic that “ruins” the characters or plots you want to root for, you’re acknowledging the privilege you have in being able to look the other way when these patterns have been brought to your attention.

There’s a lot you might not catch when you aren’t a part of the communities affected. If someone is gracious enough to extend their emotional and intellectual labor to point it out to you despite the all the gaslighting and harassment they face, the LEAST you can do is have an open mind and release the defenses and previous ideals you’ve cultivated for the characters you love. Black fans don’t owe it to you to spell it out, but they sometimes do! Despite how white fans treat them in return.

You said “it’s not like the Kerch are made out to be a nation of great saintly people.” Great! So we agree everyone should be praised and criticized accordingly? And when it’s pointed out that a character exhibits bigotry we can acknowledge that as a part of the environment they’ve lived in and thus a trait of themselves?

You can enjoy any universe or the characters that come with it in full capacity, and no one is asking you to discard stories entirely because of the mistakes. Nikolai meant and means a lot to me because of the ideals that I crafted in my head from 16 up. He’s a comfort character! He was my vision of a masc-presenting adventurer who got by with wit and charm and aesthetics. The people who love him see something of themselves in him, or someone they love. But he’s still a product of his environment. Just because I don’t want that to be true doesn’t make it untrue. Ravka is fantasy Russia but .*•*~more idealistic*.~*. This doesn’t take away the fact that the foundation is...still Russia. He’s still a privileged white king thats actively oppressing minorities in the story by upholding the kingship as it is, and if he continues the path he’s on, he’s not much better than his heritage. I love Nina to death but she’s still the jarhead kid in your algebra class ready to fight anyone who says her country merits basic criticism. The kingdom of Ravka would need to be entirely dismantled and recreated. Nikolai might seem more progressive than the kings before him, but he’s got a lot to be reprimanded for, and rebuilding can’t even start until he acknowledges and unlearns that. Which...he hasn’t, not fully, and there’s no written proof of him doing so as of now.

Before I made myself research more I got just as defensive of him and others. I’m sure I’ll get defensive over another story and have to relearn everything all over again. It’s a process and you have to check yourself all the time. But it’s a step towards the ideals we want to actually live in. If I want to imagine Nikolai a better man, I have to start from the scraps I’m given.

So yes!! You’re allowed to draw up your own themes and ideals from the stories and reimagine the characters to fit a narrative that makes your heart happy. But it won’t change the reality of the canon universe. Zemenipearls enjoyed the grishaverse so much she made a fan account for it, participates in fan-led events that celebrate the characters (and sometimes leads those events herself), commissions artists to make fanart, and has ongoing works that delve into the expansive universe that better represents her and what she wants for black characters in fantasy. And she STILL gets shit for imploring a conversation about what we all want to ignore away. Why would she put so much energy into this if she didn’t care or believe in this story too? If you also care about grishaverse that much, shouldn’t we be willing to uplift and reimagine by starting where the work needs it most?

Okay I’ve said a LOT SORRY HHHHH BUT TO WRAP UP: Ignoring a fictional character’s faults or repercussions is one thing, and I’m not about to waste energy on making people hold characters in a book accountable. We all see how people treat the Darkling.

But when you participate in or ignore the bullying and threatening that happens to REAL people, when people JUSTIFY that shit as if it merits denying a person their humanity, THATS the actual harm being done. (Not saying you’ve done that, but the mindset I’m seeing here is what feeds into that compliance.)

If we have the energy to protect and coddle our fictional white boys and let them burn the sandbox down, I KNOW we have energy to respect and protect black fans who have just as much say in how they see the story or how they reimagine it. If you have the energy to accept/tolerate the stuff alarkling fans promote, I KNOW you have the energy to put your pride away and acknowledge fallacies in your own ideals for characters. And regardless!!! of whether you “agree” with the criticisms or not, does that mean the person who spoke up about the issue deserves to be harassed?

I’m gonna ask the white ya majority reading this to be humble and open your hearts up to change the way you do for fictional edgy white dudes. Y’all have the SPIRIT but then it funnels into the WRONG IDEAS!!! PLEASE use your heads you’d be unstoppable if you used your privilege to amplify the ones who need amplifying. I promise Cardan BlackBerry and Alesksxxander Marigold aren’t gonna be disappointed in you 😔🙏

[blackrose343]

Hopeless - Chapter 5: The Consequences

Warnings: Angst, Language and PTSD

I am not a medical professional so I cannot say if this chapter accurately portrays PTSD. I did research it and compared it to what I have written. From what I saw, it looks like the reader is going through something along the lines of PTSD. So to be on the safe side, I decided to put PTSD in the warning.

Devil May Cry - V x Gender Neutral Reader

Fanfic summary:  You have been kidnapped by a Soul Snatcher clan that used to reside within Red Grave. They’re torturing you for more information about the one who helped you kill their leader. While being held captive you begin to think about how to escape, how this all started, and if someone will find you. Then again, what would happen if you escape?

Hopeless Masterlist

Sorry this took so long.

Part of the poem V reads is  Auguries of Innocence by William Blake.

Present Day

Vergil returned with you to Devil May Cry not too long after the others. Everyone gathered around, excited to finally meet you. (Although, they wished it was under better circumstances.) Nero covered Nico’s mouth, quieting her before she exclaimed her excitement about meeting you. Vergil reminded everyone you’ve been through a lot and needed rest. A lot of it. He also stressed the importance of giving you space once you regain consciousness. Vergil didn’t want you to become overwhelmed by everyone bombarding you at once. You would need time to readjust to your life; to relearn what you have forgotten.

“Try not to wake (Y/N).” Vergil left the room as V approached you. A big sigh of relief left him. You were okay just like Vergil promised you’d be. Lovingly, V stroked your hair. He got onto his knees, then placed a tender kiss on your forehead. A tiny smile graced your lips. To not disturb slumber, V took his leave.

Vergil was sitting outside enjoying the night’s cool breeze. No, he was still trying to figure out how to tell V the decision he made. Ever since he made the decision he has been trying to find the best way to tell V. Vergil knew V wouldn’t take it well. Especially since he didn't know if all or some of your memories were sealed.

It wasn’t hard for V to find Vergil. He recognized Vergil’s agitated sigh anywhere. V’s expression showed Vergil he wanted to know what happened. Vergil chose to explain to V what the healer explained to him. V’s grip on his cane was so tight his knuckles whitened. He was furious Vergil made the decision of you possibly forgetting him. But, he understood why. V expressed to Vergil he wanted you to be okay no matter what. And that’s what Vergil achieved. Before V said anything he shouldn’t, he left.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, then you observed your surroundings. You had no idea where you were. After further inspection, you realized you were in someone’s bedroom. The room more than likely belonged to the man next to you. You studied the sleeping man. A book with a “V” on the cover was on his face. Pale, slender, covered in tattoos and some bruises. You wondered who he was. That thought soon vanished. Silently, you freaked out when you saw a panther by his feet. Even more so when you saw the bird next to him. Does that bird have three pupils?!

“Hey Shakespeare, wake up! (Y/N) is awake.” The bird ruffled his feathers, then flew around the room. The panther lazily yawned then looked up at you. It would have pounced onto you but the man commanded it not to. His sultry voice soothed you yet you don’t know why. You’ve never met him. Or at least you didn't think you did.

Heartbreak filled V’s eyes when you told him you didn’t know who he was. You could tell he was restraining himself from approaching you. V wanted to hold you; to do whatever he could to make you remember him. To make him feel better you mentioned his voice was familiar to you. V’s saddened eyes lightened with hope. He knew you would remember him in due time.

To get an idea of how much has been sealed away, V convinced you to tell him about your life. You briefly babbled about your childhood. Nothing too unusual about it. You glossed over your demon hunting training. You didn't have many friends because of it. You slightly elaborated your demon hunting career. Honestly, you enjoyed it and would never leave it. When you reached recent events, nothing came to mind. All you could remember was meeting with a gentleman for a job. You couldn’t remember the conversation or what the job was.

V meticulously chose his words while explaining what happened to you and how you met him. He also kept some details to himself. You took it as him not wanting to offend you. V did not want to be the reason you regain your horrid memories so soon. He knew you would remember eventually yet he will try to prolong it for as long as possible.

Few Years Later

You were surrounded by darkness. The sound of your breathing was interrupted by an agonizing scream. A familiar scream. You couldn’t remember where you heard it from. But you knew it. You instinctively followed it. The scenery changed as you made your way to the scream. The scenes varied from a bar to chaotic parts of  Red Grave. It felt as if you were a part of each scene. As if you were reliving someone’s life. 

The screams were muffled when you spotted an out of place door. The same door you’ve been seeing for too many nights. You banged on the door. Its barrier forced you away once again. You stared at the door, cursing at it. Each time you approach the door, the same thing happens. You didn’t know why you let yourself repeat this scenario so many times: banging the door non-stop till your hands bleed and the screaming abruptly stops. You wanted to say it was because you wanted to save whoever was behind the door. For some reason curiosity was more of a reason. You were unsure if you were curious to see who was behind the door or what was happening. There was no doubt you would find out soon. The barrier was significantly weaker than when you first saw it.

The muffled screams were non-stop. Whoever was screaming seemed to be in more pain than before. Desperately, you kicked the door while reassuring whoever was on the other side you were there to help. Nothing seemed to be working. It made no sense. It was a simple door. Nothing special about it besides the barrier. It didn’t matter. You had to get through it. 

The door's final attempt to keep you away woke you. Your eyes shot open. Your mind felt hazy, then it was racing. Your heart was beating frantically. Sweat rolled down your body as you sat up. You growled from irritation when you realized you were in your room.

“(Y/N), are you alright? It seemed like you were having another nightmare.” V’s worried voice relaxed you. He softly caressed your face then kissed your forehead.

“The dream with the damned door...like almost every night now…” You were so frustrated with it. At first, you didn’t mind not opening it. You can’t always achieve something on the first attempt. After a couple weeks, well...It started to become frustrating. You tried to stop yourself from going near the door. The temptation of seeing what was behind it grew stronger with each attempt to open it. Not only did it create the most interesting scenarios the closer you got to opening it. It also seemed to be calling you to it. You were too close to give up on it now.

You yawned as you rubbed your temples. Lazily, you kissed V on the cheek then made your way to the bathroom. Whispered curses could be heard through the bathroom door. 

V’s eyes followed you until the door blocked his view. His worry for you grows each time you mention the door to him. Ever since you started to dream about that door, you slowly started to become different. When the door made its first appearance, you became more irritable. V thought the irritability was from difficulty sleeping. He read poetry to you before bed but it didn’t always work. 

The next thing V noticed was your interactions with everyone changed. Most of the time you would secretly observe them as if you were on a mission. Sometimes, you would barely talk to them or get lost during a conversation. V knew you were listening. It just seemed other stuff was on your mind. Other times you put up your guard when around a crowd of people.

Attempts to discuss your behavioral changes were made. Each time you yelled at V, confirming nothing was wrong. When you realized you were yelling at him, you automatically apologized. You explained to V you had no idea why you were acting the way you were. V would try to get some sort of explanation out of you. Eventually, you explained it was your dream with the door. The weaker the door got, the more realistic the dreams from it felt. 

V was certain the door in your dreams was the seal to your memories. V brought up his concerns for you with Vergil the first chance he got. Solemnly, Vergil explained to V once the seal was released it cannot be remade. V was furious but hid it well. Instead of dealing with his feelings about this, he focused on you. Whenever you needed him, he was there. Whenever you were feeling down or anxious, he would do everything he could to make you feel better and safe.

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

You and V were on a double date with Nero and Kyrie. Kyrie wanted to have dinner at a new restaurant on the other side of Red Grave. The subway ride there was like any other subway ride. Nothing exciting to see. All of you chatted with each other, trying to decide where else to go besides the restaurant. You were excited to see a whole new part of Red Grave. It took the government long enough to start rebuilding it after what happened. Yet for some reason an uneasy feeling started to consume you.

Kyrie and Nero got off the subway with V following behind them. They’re voices faded as they neared the exit. You sat in the subway, staring at the advertisement on the station’s wall. The advertisement seemed familiar to you in a way. Yes, you’ve seen this advertisement in many places but that wasn’t it. It was as if this specific advertisement contained something. You were convincing yourself it was nothing and to catch up with the others. You couldn’t think of any reason as to why you didn’t want to get off the subway. You forced yourself to get off when the last call was announced.

A flash from a faulty light took you to a destroyed version of the subway station. The advertisement you were looking at before was torn. Not from age but from claws. As you turned your head, you saw the subway was no longer on the tracks. It was stuck in the wall on the opposite side of the tracks. Chunks of the station were around you, along with corpses. Broken electrical wires and pipes were above you. You turned your head again. Your eyes focused on the claws about to strike you. Your instincts screamed at you to defend yourself. “Get away from me!”

“V, are you okay?!” Kyrie’s voice rang through your ears. Your eyes shot open. The station was intact. Not one thing was out of place. Nero was helping V get up. V reassured Nero he could get up on his own. You could see a bruise forming on his chest. You were petrified. Nothing could explain what just happened or why. I attacked V? No, that’s not right. I punched something else. I was being attacked.

“V, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You examined V’s chest while apologizing to him over and over. V continued his reassurance. He didn’t want to ruin anyone’s mood, especially yours. He kept quiet about how much your punch hurt him. He gently wiped your guilt ridden tears. He kissed your hand, then led the way to the restaurant. You squeezed his hand, pouring your emotions into it. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

V kept himself composed the entire time. Within himself, V was more than worried. He felt your fear through your punch. Your eyes were filled with fear and yet they had determination. The last time he saw you like this was when you almost died. V had no doubt your memories will be freed soon. 

V and Nero froze as you and Kyrie crossed the street. Disbelief filled them. They couldn’t believe the shitty luck today was presenting. The restaurant was on the roof of the building you were held captive at. Nero was spitting out excuses for V to get you away from here. There was no way either of them could let you enter that building, let alone let you eat dinner exactly where you were almost murdered. Before either of them could get to you, they watched Kyrie pull you into the building. Nero muttered “fuck” as he and V made their way to the restaurant.

Nervously, you laughed as Kyrie pulled you to the building. The uneasy feeling from earlier strengthened the closer you got to it. The feeling continued to worsen as you reached the roof. Your stomach was in knots. Your breathing started to become shaky. Your mind screamed for you to get away. You couldn't understand what was going on with you. You noticed Nero and V were a bit hesitant about coming to this place too. So maybe it wasn’t just you freaking out over nothing. 

You wrapped a few ice cubes in napkins then placed it on V’s chest. You kept apologizing to him. You couldn’t understand why he wasn’t mad at you. All you saw was his concern for you. You wanted to explain to V what happened earlier. Just not with an audience. Everyone would think you lost your damn mind. 

You couldn't stop yourself from figuring out why the events from earlier happened. Your mind conjured up so many reasons. You tried to figure out which one was a plausible reason. You didn’t want V to hear it was because of your damned dreams again. You’ve been using them as an excuse for too long. You could only conclude work may be starting to become too much. Maybe you needed a vacation. Who knows? 

“(Y/N)”? You looked at Nero like a deer in headlights. Was he reading your mind? You weren’t sure. He was giving you a questioning look. Sheepishly, you apologized for not listening then asked him to repeat himself. You found out everyone was discussing the changes made when this part of town was rebuilt.

“What happened here? I know the Qliphoth was here. It just seems something else happened too.” Nero threw V into the spotlight. V’s explanation was vague. It barely gave you the answer you were looking for. You gave Kyrie a look, silently asking her if V was hiding something from you. Kyrie’s reply was a subtle shrug. She had no idea what was going on.

Dinner continued normally. It was as if everything from earlier never happened. Nero and Kyrie acting lovey dovey. You and V were trying not to tease them. It scared you how easily everyone was able to push something like that aside. 

V glanced at you, looking for any sign that you were well. Ever since you entered the restaurant he noticed you were shaking. He knew you were attempting to hide it. The shaking appeared so strong, everyone thought you were freezing. He noticed you barely touched your food even though you claimed you were starving earlier. V thought it was best if you and him went home after dinner.

You and everyone else walked along the edge of the roof to exit the restaurant. V used his cane to deviate your wandering eyes to him. He made absolutely sure you didn’t look below or beyond. He had to. He wanted to prevent you from feeling worse than you already are. He feared you would remember what happened here.

Kyrie managed to find enough room to take a couple of pictures. Nero tried to get out of it by saying he didn’t look decent enough. V attempted to convince Kyrie to wait since the restaurant was crowded. Kyrie asked what was the harm of taking a couple pictures. It’s been too long since Kyrie got to take group photos. Also, the sunset would be the perfect background. The guys sighed in defeat.

You and Kyrie gushed over the pictures as you continued to leave the restaurant. Nero pleaded with Kyrie to wait until she was out of the restaurant to look at them. Kyrie showed Nero the picture she was currently looking at. Nero made a quick comment, then placed his hands on her shoulders. You and V watched Nero guide Kyrie. It was entertaining, even impressive. Nero had Kyrie dodge everyone coming through the door.

Your laughter at Nero and Kyrie was abruptly interrupted. Someone forced their way between you and V causing you to slam into the railing. As you situated yourself, you caught a glimpse of a black haired figure below. For just a second, the figure looked like a beaten V. You knew V wasn’t down there, he was next to you. You couldn’t stop yourself from checking. You saw V, then someone strangely familiar looking at the table behind him. Briefly, you tried to remember how you knew him.

“Are you ok-tell me who killed Carmilla!” The calm voice evolved into an aggressive demand. You couldn’t figure out who was talking to you. The demand was repeated. You kept quiet. You had no idea who Carmilla was. You don’t remember any mission involving anyone with that name. The harshness of the demand escalated until it evolved into yelling in your ear. You covered your ears but it sounded like it was coming from all over. Even from right next to you.

“I’m not telling you shit. Give up.” The haughty voice was yours, but you didn’t move your lips. The sound of powerful strikes, along with your whimpers followed.  Frantically, you searched for help. Nothing. No one. It was just you and the one asking about Carmilla. You closed your eyes preparing for the next strike. You started to take deep breaths. It was the only thing you believed would put everything back into place.

Few people asked if V wanted them to call an ambulance. V persuaded everyone to leave you be. He reassured them you would be fine and needed to be left alone. He knew the best thing for you was to have as much space as possible. To have as much time as you need to gather yourself. He knew you needed him too, but there was no way to physically calm you without possibly making the situation worse.

You stood still, gripping the rail for dear life. V studied the rhythm of your deep breaths and heaving chest. It was obvious you were trying to calm yourself. Even more obvious you were currently reliving your time while held captive here. Nightmarish thoughts raced through V’s mind. Nothing he conjured could be compared to what you actually went through. He wanted to understand but couldn’t come close to. In hopes of helping you and calming himself, V recited poetry from his book. “To see a world in a  grain of sand…”

“WHO KILLED CARMILLA?! TELL ME! TELL...poor souls...dwell in night...does…” Softly, the harsh demands transformed into V’s poetic voice. You completely focused on V’s voice, hoping he wouldn’t stop. The man in front of you morphed into V. Tears cascaded your face as you tightened your closed eyes. You begged V to stay with you. You wanted nothing more than for this madness to end. 

Gingerly, you opened your tear ridden eyes. You were back at the restaurant. For the most part, everything was back to normal. It was darker and people were failing to not steal glances at you and V. V was still standing next to you. He gently closed his book, then turned to you. Concern and worry were radiating off of him. V pulled you into a hug as soon as he saw your tears. You gripped V’s hand for dear life as he led you out of the restaurant.

As soon as V opened the door, Griffon flew around the house. You headed to your bedroom with Shadow behind. You collapsed on the bed, burying your head in your pillow. You released the anxiety and fear you have been holding. You screams and cries could be heard throughout your home. To help calm yourself you cuddled with Shadow, letting her fur catch your tears. Shadow’s purring was the perfect lullaby to fall asleep to, especially after today.

“...H-HE-LP!...HELP!...He-help...” Those pleas were all the encouragement you needed to continue to get through the door. Nothing was going to stop you this time. You mustered your strength then delivered one final strike against the door. The barrier dissipated, as it pushed you away one last time. The door became ajar. 

Regret consumed you as soon as you stepped through the door. A blinding flash brought you to an abandoned building. Someone similar looking to the man from the restaurant was interrogating someone who looked like you. The person being interrogated was severely beaten. It was obvious the man was doing whatever he pleased. No one was around to stop him. It wouldn’t be long until the person was dead. In an attempt to stop him, you jumped on his back. He threw you across his back. Somehow you merged with the one you were trying to save.

The man deeply slashed your abdomen. He was merciless. It felt as if he was never going to stop until he got what he wanted. Not once did his sinister smile disappear. If anything, it grew with each of your screams, your pleas. You screamed for help but no one came.

The strike to your head was excruciating. You gripped your head, screaming, as your mind released every single memory that was sealed away. Meeting V at the grocery store. Tracking Carmilla. Working with V. Your fight with Carmilla. Your captivity. All of them. It was too much for your mind to process at once.

V raced to your bedroom as soon as he heard you scream. Quickly, he studied the room and determined nothing was amiss. V attempted to loosen the ironclad grip you had on your head. V winced from pain when you grabbed his hands. It was possible you may have sprained his finger or two. V didn’t care. He stayed with you, reminding you how strong you are and how you can get through this.

Once you were calm V asked if you were hurt. Hysterically, you described your nightmare. The torture, the pain. The rush of other dreams within it. It felt so real to you. As if it happened to you as you dreamt it. V tried to explain that even though you were attacked in your dream it doesn’t mean the attacks actually happened. You were having none of it. You described every attack explicitly while tracing each one on your body.

V tried his best to calm you. Nothing he did relieved you. Not one bit. Your mind was frantically processing the memories it released. You couldn’t think straight. V tried to hug you but you pushed him away. His hurt expression made you feel worse, but you had no choice. You needed to stay away from him. You weren’t sure if the one in front of you was V or a Soul Snatcher; friend or enemy.

“Who the fuck are you?” Shakily, you cocked your gun, indicating you weren’t playing around. Shadow immediately placed herself between you and V. Griffon babbled about you not recognizing V or them. You didn’t care. You just needed to know what was going on.

“(Y/N) put the gun down and I’ll answer all of your questions.” Your defensive aggressiveness from before your memories were sealed has returned. There was no way V could weasel his way to convince you nothing was going on. To V this situation felt like he was reliving his very first encounter with you.

Your eyes narrowed with suspicion. Would he attack once you lower your gun? Will he actually tell the truth? What if this was a Soul Snatcher? Too many questions raced through your mind. You had no idea what part of yourself to listen to. Fuck it. You needed answers. “Lie or attack, I’ll make you regret it.”

For your sake V had to prove he wasn’t a Soul Snatcher. He recalled when he gave you the ring you were wearing. Hearing your argument made V realize it was pointless to retell the time you spent together. He was determined to prove he wasn’t a Soul Snatcher. No matter what. The only thing he could think of that a Soul Snatcher couldn’t do was summon Nightmare. Doing so caused quite a scare for your neighbors.

Your neighbors panic soon turned into silence. Irritated tension was all either of you could feel. Both of you wanted to say something. Neither of you knew what to say or where to start. So you both stayed quiet, trying to figure out what to say. The silence was unbearable for Griffon but he managed to stay quiet. God knows what either of you would do if Griffon said anything.

You took one deep breath, then decided to tell V everything about your time in captivity. The torture, the Soul Snatchers involved, your thoughts. Everything. You turned yourself away from V when you started crying. V attempted to reach over to comfort you but you indicated for him to stay where he was. You didn’t want to be touched by anyone. 

V wanted to hold you. He wanted to do anything and everything he could to remind you you’re safe with him. But he fought himself from doing anything that would make you uncomfortable. He knew you would fulfill your promise if he did anything you saw as a threat.

If V had to be honest, he didn’t want to explain what happened when he found you. Besides the fact he was like you; not wanting to show weakness or vulnerability. He isn’t proud of how he reacted. That night was a tornado to him. It was fast and destructive yet it was a blur. Still. It was no excuse to not tell you. You told him everything. Now it was his turn. V sucked it up and reluctantly told you what happened.

You listened to V, unsure how to take it. At first, you were terrified to hear you almost died. (You remembered you made the choice but it was frightening to think about.) Soon fright turned into anger. You blamed V for having your memories sealed. Not long after, you questioned if being with V was the right thing for you. You even questioned if you would be with V after everything that happened. 

V sat across from you, waiting for you to say anything. He was aware you were angry. He knew you would need time to process everything. It could take a long time, but V was more than willing to do whatever he could to help you. Except for one thing.

“I-I...I don’t know how to take in all of this...I-I think I need to sp-spend some time away from y-you. To absorb everything I just remembered..a-and what we just talked about...I also have to think of what’s be-est for me.” V’s heart broke in two. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was at a loss for words. He was unable to argue with you.

“Don’t.” You froze. V’s hand was hovering above yours. Without touching you, he guided your hand to lower itself, then release the clothing you were holding. Was V going to convince you to stay with him? You couldn’t tell. You knew he was going to say something. He was close to you but stepped away. “You should stay here. I’ll leave.”

You couldn’t believe what you just heard. Why would he leave? You should be the one leaving. You whipped your head around to see if V was really leaving. He was. Already he grabbed his bag, then his book. It didn’t take long for him to gather the rest of what he needed. Once he was packed, he approached you. You anticipated him doing some gesture to say goodbye. Your heart broke when he did nothing except say his goodbye. With each step V took away from you, you felt more alone than ever before. When he was completely gone you believed you made the wrong choice.

[justasparkwritings]

Illicit Affairs: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 3

Previous: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 2 

Pairings: Namjoon & Reader (Barely)

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life

Ratings: PG15

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Therapy and Swearing, Lots of Reminiscing 

Summary: Under the guidance of Dr. Aarons, Jungkook and Namjoon work to rebuild their relationship. 

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

          “Let’s debrief,” Dr. Aarons sits gently in her chair, hair grown out a little, the new length carefully tossed over her shoulder. She adjusts the pen in her hand and consults the list in her notebook. “We’ve covered a lot of ground in the last few weeks, but there’s one piece we haven’t discussed.”

           “What is that?” Namjoon asks.

           “There’s a new stipulation in Jungkook’s contract that says he can date, I understand, similar to yours, it was a consolation prize,”

           “Mm, when the lawyers and I renegotiated the contracts, it seemed fair that he get something special in return,” Namjoon answers.

           “Jungkook, how do you feel about it?”

           “About dating?”

           “Yes, with all you’ve been through, bringing another person into your life?”

           “I feel, scared,”

           “Can you explain that?”

           “Scared that all of the trauma is going to come back, scared I’m not enough, scared I can’t love someone,”

           “Why do you think that?” Namjoon asks.

           “You don’t get it, do you?” Jungkook’s earnestness slips through his syllables.

           “What don’t I get?”

           “Joon, I’ve spent nearly a decade thinking that Big Hit loves me because I work myself to the bone, because I damage my body and push it past its limits. Love costs,”

           “No it doesn’t,”

           “Your love cost,”

           “No,” Namjoon shakes his head. In the nearly two months they’ve spent in this room with Dr. Aarons, Namjoon has had his share of epiphanies. This, this is new and horrifying.

           “Yes,”

           “I,” Namjoon lunges at Jungkook, a foreign behavior that results in Dr. Aarons gasping. But he doesn’t fight him, he pulls him in, hugging him fiercely. “It doesn’t, it doesn’t Jungkook, there is no price to my love, I swear.”

           “This is the last hurdle I want us to discuss before the rest of the members arrive this week.”

           “Okay,” Namjoon sits back in his spot, leaving Jungkook’s arms empty.

           “We have to separate the idea that the actions you carried out aren’t related to love,”

           “How do we do that?”

           “Jungkook, you’ve made a list of memorable moments with Namjoon, both positive and hurtful, we’re going to work through them to separate the different emotions during those moments. Sound good?”

           “Yes,” The men reply.

           Dr. Aaron’s projects a table on the empty wall to their right, a natural screen. Namjoon stares at the T-Chart and reads over the first event.

           “Jungkook, why don’t you read the first one?”

            “Namjoon asks for a hug on stage,” Jungkook reads.

           “Why did you bring this memory to us?”

           “It’s always stuck in my mind,”

           “Can you elaborate on why?” Dr. Aarons smiles at the blush on Jungkook’s cheeks, before she turns to Namjoon. “Namjoon, what do you remember of that day?”

           “That was, what, Love Yourself World tour? Yeah, I was just feeling so emotional, we were in Seoul before going to the US to play stadiums. It was all so overwhelming, to start in our hometown, to be there, as Bangtan with all we’d been through.”

           “Jungkook, why did this stand out to you?”

           “Namjoon-hyung isn’t one for physical affection, he’s not like Hobi-hyung or Jimin-hyung, he doesn’t walk around with a free hug sign… it was so special that he wanted to share that with me, with all of us on stage in front of everyone.”

           “Was that moment pure love, or calculated action?” Dr. Aarons inquires.

           “Pure love,” The men answer in unison.

           “Let’s look at the next one.”

           “Preparation for Billboard awards,” Jungkook reads.

           “Which time?” Namjoon asks.

           “2018,” Jungkook specifies.

           “Oh, Fake Love era,” He nods his head, mind already racing through the string of events that made that year nearly unbearable.

           “Yes,”

           “Granted, we are only on the second event, but 2018 seems to have been one hell of a year. What was going on behind the scenes?”

           The thing about being a therapist is that you always know more than your clients think. Particularly when they’re famous, and Billboard has created detailed lists of their accomplishments for the last few years, you tend to be clued in when a high-profile individual waltzes through your doors. Dr. Aarons had never worked with an idol of such status and power as Jungkook and Namjoon, and eventually OT7. So, to prepare, she naturally went in to read the facts. The lists of accomplishments, itemized by year, proved indelible to her work with them. She felt prepared when Jungkook walked into her office, and through their dedicated time each day, she learned more and more. Dr. Aarons could see in that first meeting how damaged his psyche was, she could see the betrayal and confusion, the years of misuse of his body, the systems woven into his DNA that he was going to have to relearn. But she also saw the drive, the hope, the soul in his midnight irises. Now, watching him interact with Namjoon, she was beginning to feel proud of all the progress he’s made.

           “We were practicing nonstop,” Jungkook’s voice pulls her back.

           Namjoon nods, “We were all falling apart.”

           Dr. Aarons hums thoughtlessly, an empty gesture to the two whose minds are reliving the hell from that year. “This is when you considered breaking up?”

           “Disbanding, yeah,” Namjoon nods again. “We met and talked about it, a lot. It was hard navigating the pressure of becoming a more global group and the pressures of the Korean music industry.”

           “Hobi-hyung and Jimin-hyung released solo stuff, too,” Jungkook adds

           “I did too,” Namjoon reminds him. “It was a busy year with a lot of promotions and changes, so many music videos, we played the Tokyo Dome,”

           “Mic Drop Remix came out, and we had a song go platinum for the first time,”

           “We started to win big at MNET and MAMA awards,”

           “Wasn’t that the first time we were in Time Magazine?”

           “Mm, the world voted us person of the year,” Namjoon remembers receiving the news, they had been ecstatic.

           “But you wanted to disband?” Dr. Aarons wonders. “Why?”

           “All that success was overwhelming,” Jungkook answers.

           “Jungkook, you’re an introvert?”

           “Yes,”

           “I can imagine the toll that took on you, and still does, finding time to rest and recharge,” Dr. Aarons has had this conversation with him before, the need to manage his introverted personality, how he controls his body and the world around him. The tattoos, the piercings, the hair dying. All symptoms. All things she wasn’t sure Namjoon had realized.

           “I guess I thought exercise was a way to manage it,” He shrugs.

           “Jungkook, what stands out to you about Namjoon at this time?”

           “He was the reason I joined, the promises he made. We were together wondering if it was worth it and I just felt like I’d sacrificed so much, my body was breaking, and he was sitting there wondering if we should quit.”

           “Mm, did you feel betrayed?”

           “Yes, by him,”

           “What about the other members?”

           “They didn’t see it that way, Namjoon-hyung didn’t promise them what he promised me,”

           “You were feeling betrayed by him, and working your body to the max with minimal success,”

           “Yes,”

           “Namjoon, how were you feeling?”

           “I felt like we were gaining success but at what cost?”

           “That cost was me,” Jungkook says. “It’s always been me.”

           “Jungkook,”

           “Namjoon, we’ve been working on this, but there’s still a disconnect.”

           “I don’t know how to make him understand what I was going through too,”

           “Mm, Jungkook?”

           “Ttaeron naui sum makhil ttaemyeon / Mojal nulleosseugo gyesok dallyeo” Jungkook replies.

           “I know,”

           “You don’t, you never will. You got love, you got a career, you got a life, you got it all.” Jungkook whispers.

           “Was 2018, specifically the lead up to the Fake Love performance love, or calculated action?” Dr. Aarons presses.

           “Both,” Jungkook answers.

           “Elaborate,” She requests.

           “Namjoon-hyung wanted to walk away because he loved us, he respected us, he wanted us to be happy. But pushing me in rehearsals and building me up by complimenting the results was calculated. The lies he told were planned. He knew what he was doing to me.”

           “Namjoon, do you think that’s a fair assessment?”

           “Yes. You were also working out so much because you had to lift your shirt every time, we did that stupid song,” Namjoon sits back, the air in his lungs deflating.

           “Who decided that?” Dr. Aarons asks. “It’s something I’ve wondered about.”

           “Choreographer,” They answer.

           “Could it have been a calculated move?”

           “Maybe,” Jungkook answers. Namjoon sits silently, staring at his hands. His silence tells Dr. Aarons everything she needs to know, it was.

           “Hmm, alright next,”

           “Bangtan performing Ddaeng together,” Jungkook reads.

           “Tell me about that,”

           “We had two concerts, like a showcase, and OT7 decided we wanted to perform Ddaeng together. We divided the vocal line, Hoseok took Jimin and Seokjin, Yoongi took Taehyung, and I had Jungkook. We rehearsed and then performed together,” Namjoon explains.

           “What was special about this?”

           “We never perform rap line songs with the rap line. It was a surprise to the fans, and something we all really wanted to do. Namjoon and I have always been close, and he let me really take the verse and make it mine for those performances,”

           “Namjoon, why did you pick Jungkook?”

           “I didn’t, it was just, decided,”

           “Hobi-hyung took Jimin and Jin because they were the least experienced with rapping, and were happier to split a verse than have their own.”

           “Taehyung wanted Yoongi’s verse, desperately wanted it.”

           “I would’ve been happy with either, but I guess, I’ll take any opportunity to work with Joon-hyung,”

           “How was rehearsing?”

           “Really fun,” Jungkook says. “It was the most fun I’ve had in rehearsal, maybe ever,”

           “It was thrilling to watch him take on this song, my verse and make it his own. Our styles are very different. It was fun to watch him play with it, make it his,”

           “You still rapped parts of it with him,”

           “We took turns at the beginning of the verse,” Jungkook answers. “Then I did the rest.”

           “Love, or calculated?”

           “Love,” Namjoon answers.

           “Was it?” Jungkook asks.

           “You think it would be calculated?” Namjoon asks.

           “Show me how I could do more than just sing, push me to explore different parts of my job, continue my drive. Could’ve been calculated,”

           “But you didn’t get into rapping at that point, you haven’t yet,”

           “True,”

           “From what I’m hearing, it sounds like love,” Dr. Aarons decides. “You two have come a long way in the last two months. I’m excited to talk to the other members and work through a few items with them too. How are you feeling about them coming?”

           “I’m excited,” Jungkook tells her. “I haven’t seen them in a while, I miss them.”

           “I’m happy we’ll get to work through this, though, very nervous,” Namjoon answers.

           “Good. All things to take into consideration as we ready our minds for our meeting.”

           Dr. Aarons bids the men adieu, and as they exit into the LA sun, Namjoon turns to Jungkook.

           “You’ve come a long way,” Namjoon compliments.

           “So have you,” Jungkook responds.

           “Do you want to get dinner later?” Namjoon inquires, eyes hopeful. They haven’t had many 1-1 moments, a few work activities together, some studio time and lyric sessions, but limited social time. At first Joon hated it, but after meeting with Dr. Aarons a few times outside of their group work, he came to realize how important it was for each of them to be apart, separated during their therapy.

           “I can’t, but maybe we can get coffee tomorrow before the guys show up?” Jungkook offers. It’s a consolidation prize, Namjoon can see it in the way he shrinks himself in the sunshine.

           “Sounds good, I’m moving into a bigger place with them, are you coming too?” Namjoon inquires.

           “No, I’m staying in mine. Dr. Aarons’ wants me to slowly transition back to work,” Jungkook informs him.

           “That’s a good plan,” Namjoon nods, sunglasses masking the disappointment in his eyes.

           “Yeah, so coffee, tomorrow?”

           Namjoon nods, “Eight?”

           “Sounds good,” Jungkook waves at Namjoon before turning and going his own way.

           Jungkook has plans, plans that he’s sure will go from dinner through the evening until early morning when his new love has to go to work. It’s new, a few weeks old, but feels like being on stage: familiar, comfortable, challenging, exhilarating, home. Jungkook’s only told Dr. Aarons about it, and she’s given him cautious advice. He had asked Dr. Aarons if this was a good idea, a relationship, dating at all… potentially his first real relationship with someone who looked at him like, like no one had before. It was something that was just his, in his heart, to be shared with her and only her.

           So maybe he was ditching and lying to Namjoon, but after nearly a decade, isn’t it time?

Next: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 4

[philthepegacornfics]

Limits Part 3

Sam Wilson x Sibling!Reader, Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This chapter doesn’t have a lot of the mentioned dynamics. But, it’s still a chapter that I wrote and felt like keeping in. We’ll eventually get the to Spider-Man x Reader, lol.

Trigger Warnings: Potential swearing (I don’t remember), Physical Therapy

Part 1  Part 2 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How was school?” Tony asked as he walked into the room. The doctor had just finished removing my casts.

“It was good!” I beamed. “I made a new friend. Crazily enough, we have all the same classes together. Our teachers asked him to help catch me up in our classes, since I missed so much.”

Tony just nodded as he moved wordlessly, using body measuring tape to measure my left leg.

“Like I told Peter, it’s like some higher power wanted us to meet,” I continued.

He paused and looked up at me, giving me a smirk. He then continued to measure my right leg. “His name is Peter, then.”

“Yeah, that’s his name.”

“Is he cute?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I changed the topic, “What’re you doing?”

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he smirked again. “I made you a present, I’m just seeing if it’s going to fit.”

“You got me a gift?!”

“I made you a gift. There’s a difference. You lost more muscle mass than I had anticipated. Give me no more than an hour to make the adjustments.”

“Thank you so much Tony!”

“Anything for our little Avatar,” he ruffled my hair.

I let out an annoyed groan, “Why do people keep doing that?”

“Because you’re adorable,” he deadpanned before walking out of the room.

Moments after he walked out of the room, a woman, who I assumed was my physical therapist, walked in. She had long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She carried in her hands a green elastic band and a red solo cup.

“Good afternoon (Y/n), how’re you doing today?” she asked, setting the solo cup and green band on the floor next to the table.

“I’m doing good. How are you?” I looked down into the cup. It was full of marbles. 

“Good,” she answered as I gave her a curious look about the marbles. She laughed, “You’ll see what those are for in a minute.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’m Doctor Webb, by the way. But you can call me Stephanie.” She offered me her hand.

I took it in mine and gave it a firm shake, “Nice to meet you, Stephanie.”

“So, how are your legs feeling?” she asked, pulling her hand away.

“They definitely don’t hurt anymore. I haven’t taken any pain medicine in awhile.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Though I will warn you now that more than likely they’ll ache again as we get into therapy. Your muscles haven’t been used in awhile, so it’s a matter of rebuilding them. Let me know if you need to rest at any point. We do want to push, but not too much. Okay?”

I nodded my head in understanding.

“Great! First I’m going to test your range of motion and stretch you out.”

She started with my left leg. First bending and straightening out my leg. Then moving to my foot. Seeing how far I could move it in each direction. With each direction it was pointed, she’d hold it for thirty seconds before moving on. Once done with that, she repeated the process on my right leg.

“Okay, now can you flex your feet for me? Bring your toes towards yourself,” she instructed when she finished.

I nodded again, and tried to do as she asked. However, my feet didn’t move. I furrowed my eyebrows and tried concentrating. Again, they didn’t move.

“I-I can’t,” I stuttered. Panic started to spread through my chest. “Why can’t I move them?”

Stephanie sighed, “It’s okay, (Y/n). To explain it in terms you’d understand; since it’s been so long since you’ve used your legs, your brain has lost a connection to them. You just have to relearn your motor skills.”

“O-oh.”

“Try again. It’ll take a second, but I know you can do it.”

I took a deep breath and focused on moving my feet again. My leg muscles twitched throughout my legs.  After a few moments my feet started to move up towards me. I got them half way and let them fall back to their natural point. I tried again and was able to flex them with ease.

I released the breath I was holding. Stephanie let out a small chuckle from watching me point and flex my feet over and over again. I didn’t want to stop moving them, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to do so again.

“Very good!” she praised me. 

I couldn’t help but beam up at her.

“Now we’re going to use this,” she said while bending down to grab the green elastic band. “We’re going to use it to add some resistance to your movements, so you have to use your muscles more.”

With my left foot, she slid the band over the top and had me pull my toes towards me ten times. She rotated it so I then had to point my toes ten times. Next she had me move my foot inward ten times. And finally outward ten times.

We continued the process with my right foot. When we were done, I could feel myself getting a small headache. A dull one that ached all over.

Stephanie then had me dangle my legs over the side of the examination table. She slid the band under my calf and had me bend my knee to pull against it. After ten reps, we did it the opposite direction. Having me kick out and extend my knee ten times. Next was my other leg. Ten times pulling in, ten times kicking out.

By the time we were done, I was slightly panting and my headache was stronger. I could feel blood pulsing throughout my legs.

“How’re you doing, (Y/n)?” Stephanie asked.

I waited a moment to catch my breath before answering, “I have a headache. Other than that I’m fine. It feels good to move my legs.”

She gave me a small frown, “We can be done for today. You’re already doing better than I expected.”

I shook my head, “No, I want to keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup, just pop some ibuprofen in me, and I’ll be good as new.”

“Alright. Let’s get you shifted to a chair. You can either use mine or your wheelchair.”

“My wheelchair would be easier.”

Stephanie helped me lower myself from the examination bed. When I was settled, she grabbed the red solo cup and dumped the marbles out on the floor in front of me. She set the now empty cup next to my right foot.

I gave her a curious look and waited for her explanation. 

“We’re now going to work on your fine motor skills,” she started. “I’m going to have you pick up each marble with your toes and drop them in this cup.”

I nodded. The task itself was easy enough. I moved to get started. Spreading my toes the best I could before trying to curl them around a blue marble. I was able to lift the marble about two inches above the ground before it fell.

I let out a huff of breath and tried again. This time I couldn’t get my toes to grab the marble. I accidentally kicked it and it rolled across the floor to where I couldn’t reach it. Stephanie moved to grab the marble and added it back to the pile of marbles on the floor. Her actions made me acutely aware that she was watching me.

I swallowed thickly before trying again, only to fail another time. I let out a frustrated sigh. Taking a few deep breaths, I tried one more time. My toes curled around a red marble. I lifted my leg, hovered over the cup, and dropped it in.

The next marble was easier to get into the cup, but still took awhile.

“I’m going to go get you some ibuprofen that you asked for earlier. Keep going. If you finish before I get back, just dump the marbles again and work on your other leg,” Stephanie said before exiting the room.

I continued working after she left. It took a long time but I finally got half way through. Feeling a little dizzy and tired, I decided to take a small break.

Leaning back in my wheelchair, I let my mind wander. It started off with school and how much homework I have to catch up on. Then I thought about how tutoring was going to help. I then thought about the shy dork that is Peter. And finally Tony’s question about Peter rang through my brain. “Is he cute?”

I blushed again at the question. Peter was undeniably attractive. The way he had hair styled back to try and keep it out of his face left me wanting to mess it up. To run my fingers through it. How every time he blushed, it stood out against his pale skin. Making his barely visible freckles stand out. I liked his deep brown eyes and his messed up eyebrow. 

And he was physically fit. I could tell during gym class. During that class, I had nothing to do as I sat on the sidelines. I watched everyone exercise, but my eyes kept wandering back to Peter. He was doing sit ups, talking to Ned who held his feet down. It was obvious that the physical exercise was no strain for Peter. I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like shirtless.

The door suddenly opened, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“There you are, Stephanie! I was starting to get worried,” I said while putting my hands on my cheeks, trying to cool down the burning sensation. 

“Guess again,” Tony said while walking through the door. He was trying to hide something behind him. From what I could see, I could tell that it was tall and black.

“Tony!” I cheered before pausing for a moment. “Where’s Stephanie?”

“I ran into Dr. Webb in the hall. I told her that she could go home and I’d make sure that you finish up your exercises. Also, I got something for ya,” he said while tossing a small white bottle out of his left hand at me.

I leaned forward and tried to catch it, but my hands ended up smacking it away. The bottle landed on the floor. Rattling came from the contents from inside.

“You have got to work on your catching game,” he sighed. He walked further into the room, stepping over the marbles, and placed the long black item onto the examination bed. He then moved to pick up the bottle off of the ground and handed it to me. I rotated the bottle in my hands. Reading the label that says, “Ibuprofen.”

“Thank you!” I beamed up at him, “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he waved a dismissive hand before turning back to the object he laid on the bed. “Just wait until you try these on.”

“What is it?” I asked while screwing off the lid to the ibuprofen, taking out the correct dosage for my body weight.

“I haven’t worked out a name for them yet.” A weak hiss came from the object before Tony separated it into two. “They’re basically braces for your legs, but better.”

“Better how?” I put the bottle in my lap as Tony looked back at me. Moving my right index finger in a circular motion, I started drawing the moisture in the air together to form a small ball of water. I opened my mouth wide, popping the medicine, and moving the water into my mouth. I swallowed before looking at Tony, whose eyes were wide in surprise.

“Since when have you been able to pull water out of thin air?” he wondered.

A small smirk played at the corner of my mouth. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Clearly.” He shakes his head before he continues speaking, “Anyways, they’re better because I’m using advanced nanobots and healing technology. It’s a little similar to the brace that I made for Rhodey”

“Well, let’s try them on,” I motioned to my legs.

Tony put one of the halves and set it back down on the table. He rotated the brace so the half that was connected to the other was facing me. Upon closer look, I could see that it was hollow. A place for me to squeeze my leg in.

“It’s not very pretty now, but it will move and adjust to your leg once we get it on,” he warned.

“If it’ll adjust to my leg, why did you take my leg measurements earlier?”

“I needed them for this initial size. If it was too small, you wouldn’t be able to get your leg in for it to adjust. If it was too big, then it wouldn’t be able to read that your leg is there,” he explained.

I nodded my head in understanding.

Tony motioned for me to lift my leg up. I obliged and extended my right leg out. He, with my help, slid the brace on to my leg. It was a snug fit, but not too tight. After a moment, the nanobots came to life. They moved over my leg to form bars down either side of my leg. As well as creating four straps across my leg connecting them. Two across my thigh and two across my shin around behind my calf.

I bent and extended my leg a couple of times to get a feel for it. It moved with ease and was surprisingly light. It was as if it wasn’t there. We then repeated the process on my other leg.

A warmth spread through both my legs slowly. It felt as if I had a bunch of extra energy in them, and was ready to go for a run.

“What do you think?” Tony asked.

“They’re a lot lighter than I thought they’d be. And I think they’re working already. My legs feel warm and cozy, while having extra energy at the same time.”

“That’s good,” Tony then pointed towards the marbles. “Finish your exercises.”

I nodded and followed his instructions. Moving a lot quicker than I was able to earlier, I finished putting the marbles in the cup. I dumped them back out and started on the other leg.

“This is so much easier now!” I giggled with excitement.

Tony leaned against the wall and watched me.

“Ready to try standing up?” he asked once I finished.

My eyes widened and my jaw fell slack. “Already?

“If you think you’re up to it,” a smirk played on his features.

“You know I’m up for anything,” I scoffed at him.

“I know,” he said, offering me his arm.

I planted both my feet on the ground. Using both my hands to grab onto his arm to pull myself up. He shifted his weight and pulled me up faster than I had planned. I stumbled a little, but Tony helped catch me. After making sure I had my balance, he slowly pulled away from me.

The bottom of my feet tingled as my legs got warmer. Despite my legs lightly protesting, I couldn’t help but smile. It felt so good to be standing up for once. Something that used to be such a simple task, made me now feel like I was conquering the world.

“Look at me! I’m standing!” I squealed.

Tony chuckled softly. He took a step back towards me, again offering his arm. “Do you want to try walking around?”

“Yes!”

I put both of my hands onto his arms to help my balance. Shifting my weight back and forth, I decided to start with taking a step with my right leg. I put some weight on Tony as I moved my right hip upward to lift my foot off the ground. I bent my knee to get it further off of the ground before kicking it back out. My movements felt robotic and choppy.

I placed my foot on the ground, putting weight on it at the same time. Causing my legs to be too spread apart for me to be able to take another step without falling over. 

My eyes widened in fear of falling. I looked up at Tony desperately. He moved his free hand to my shoulder to help balance me further.

“Shift your weight back and forth, with each shift, bring your legs closer together,” he instructed.

I did as he said and in no time, my legs were close together again. My right foot was still ahead of my left, but with only an inch between them instead of a huge gap. My legs were starting to burn.

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I was starting to panic.”

“Let’s just start out with a shuffle.”

I nodded my head in agreement and he removed his hand that was holding my shoulder. I shifted my weight to my right foot and dragged my left foot forward. When it was a little in front of my right foot, I shifted my weight to it and dragged my right foot forward. I repeated the motions over and over. Tony being very patient with me and taking a step forward only when I’d finally start to pass him.

We got halfway across the room. My heart was racing and I was panting, completely out of breath. My legs felt like they were on fire. I couldn’t ignore them anymore.

“Tony,” I said between breaths.

“What’s up, kid?”

I pointed behind me in the general direction of my wheelchair. “I need to sit down.”

“Are you okay to stand on your own for two seconds while I grab your seat?”

Planting my feet shoulder width apart, I let go of his arm and gave it a small push. The movement caused me to wobble a bit. His hands shot out, getting ready to catch me. But, I was able to regain my balance on my own.

Quickly he grabbed my wheelchair and moved it behind me. I placed my hands on the armrests and lowered myself down onto it. As soon as my weight was lifted off my feet, my legs relaxed. Dulling some of the pain that’s spread throughout them.

Tony wordlessly started pushing me out of the room and down the hall.

“Where are we going?” I asked once my breath caught up to me.

“I’m taking you to your room. I think that’s enough therapy today.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @galcalirwin @frontmanash @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @aneclecticwriter

[snarkywrites]

Tarotscopes – From April 26th through May 2nd

Tarotscopes – From April 26th through May 2nd Feel free to check Rising Sign, Sun Sign and Moon Sign.

Aries – Pluto has just gone retrograde and you will be one of the signs to experience the transformation it will bring to you. Death in the Reverse is your card for the week. Release old notions, release the past and do not be afraid to start off new once again. You are an independent spirit that is not afraid of challenges, so keep going strong and do not look back.

Taurus – The Hierophant is your card for the week and it makes sense with Pluto going Retrograde. You are now reaching a form of spiritual enlightenment and this last New Moon would have pulled you to reach new heights and limits you did not know you were bound to uncover. This is a powerful and transformative week for you, learning about your wants and needs as well as your capabilities.

Gemini – The Knight of Pentacles comes into your reading for the week which ties with this Pluto in Capricorn Transit. How you save, budget and your overall planning schemes will be put n the test. Those lessons from the last three years of Saturn’s transit have given you the tools necessary to tackle this retrograde period.

Cancer – A time to bring the focus to your ego with the High Priestess in the Reverse showing up in this week’s reading for you. The power dynamics you have will be magnified with this Pluto Retrograde transit, igniting conflict and uncertainty with how you carry yourself in partnerships. Evaluate if your emotions and make decisions from a place of peace and harmony, not one that stems from conflict.

Leo – The Moon is in your reading this week, prompting you to let go of fears, confusion and bring things back to you. This Pluto Retrograde transit is still influencing your transformations, and this gives you a heightened intuition. Do not be afraid of it, trust it. There is still a lot of changes going on in your routines and now things might change more. Just take things one day at a time and tune in to your inner world.

Virgo – With the Nine of Pentacles this week, you are prompted to be vigilant of your finances. This Pluto Retrograde will make you consider your approach to finances and whether you’ll allow your impulses to take over. You have earned a lot through your hard work and although you might be tempted to treat yourself (Taurus Season, anyone?) you should still think of the best way to move your resources.

Libra – The Tower shows up in your reading. Pluto Retrograde is going to impact you and other Cardinal signs with a little more power this period. You are already handling the power and transformations in your inner world. Make sure to practice self-care and to ask for help if you feel emotionally destroyed. Trust in others can help you rebuild and come out of this stronger.

Scorpio – Taurus Season will be bringing surprises especially with the week the Full Moon is in your sign. The Queen of Pentacles is your card for the week, igniting a period of prosperity, joy and growth for you. Your work ethic will be highlighted during these transits and the Pluto Retrograde will make you sharper and more equipped to tackle challenges.

Sagittarius – There is a lot you want to take on and it might make you feel stressed about the quality that you are putting out there. Your card for the week is the Eight of Pentacles in the Reverse, prompting you not to second guess yourself, to keep going. Allow the transformations to take hold and let things go. This Pluto Retrograde might bring you some doubts about yourself and what you are capable of. Keep working hard and find the resilience within yourself during these times.

Capricorn – This Pluto Retrograde will bring you within and the Hermit in the Reverse shows that you might already be in that introspective phase. You need to find faith in yourself and the guiding light that is inside you in order to continue to tackle on any challenges. The road to achievements and success is not easy but the end results will be fantastic.

Aquarius – The Ten of Wands is your card for the week, asking you to take it easy. You are doing too much and with Saturn in your sign, you have felt the wave and burden of added responsibilities. Make sure to think about your needs and well-being, which is the Taurus Season mantra. This Pluto Retrograde might make you feel exhausted, but you’ve got this.

Pisces – We all need to relearn how to practice patience with everything going on in the world. You might be feeling the anxiety with Saturn in the Sign of Aquarius making you feel unsettled. Your card for the week is Temperance in the Reverse, reminding you to relax, take it easy and go with the flow. These transits are temporary, pushing you and strengthening you. Pluto’s Retrograde will give you insight and power when dealing with challenges.

[dimitrescus-bitch]

Recover (Tegan Nox x Reader)

You were almost there. You were so close to becoming NXT Women’s Champion that you could feel the belt around your waist already. All you had to do was hit your finisher and get the submission. You climbed up to the top rope and jumped onto Charlotte’s body. You had a bit more momentum on your side than you had originally thought and you slammed your shoulders into the mat on accident. Immediately, you knew that something was wrong, but you wanted this more than anything, so you pushed through it. You pulled yourself up and waited for Charlotte to get to her feet. Once she was up, you locked up with her and then swiftly moved into position for the submission. You managed to get Charlotte into the air, but after a couple of seconds, you couldn’t hold her anymore. You let yourself fall backwards and you swore that you heard something snap when you landed. 

“Hey look at me, look at me,” Charlotte said as she scrambled up. You couldn’t feel anything except for pain in your right arm and both of your shoulders. You rolled onto your front and tried to hide your face from the cameras. You had worked so hard for this, trained with Charlotte for weeks for this match, and now it was all gone for you. You were carried out of the ring on a stretcher and taken straight to the medics. They checked you out and once they were done, Tegan, Candice, and Charlotte were let inside. 

“What’s going on?” Candice asked and the doctor cleared his throat. 

“It looks like bad muscle tears in her shoulders, and a clean break in her arm,,” he said and you looked at Tegan with tears in your eyes. “We can’t tell the extent of the tearing in her shoulders, but it’s looking like she might need surgery.” 

“Surgery?” you asked and he nodded. “Fuck.” 

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said and Tegan pulled you into a hug. She was gentle with you and Candice got the medication from the doctor that you’d be taking while you waited for your appointment to see how bad the damage really was. It took a few days and by the end of it, you had three appointments for surgeries. The damage was pretty bad, worse than it had been before. You were no stranger to shoulder problems, but this one took the cake. Tegan and Candice were with you as much as they could and it made everything a bit more bearable. 

Your first appointment came early and you did a couple weeks of rehab before the second one. You had a month from that one and then you got your third and final one. The rehab process for that one was the absolute worst. You had to rebuild a lot of your upper body strength and relearn some old moves because your muscle memory was failing you. You wanted to give up so badly and Tegan could see it after your third week with no visible progress. 

“Talk to me,” Tegan said as she watched you make a smoothie. You looked up at her and pressed the button on the blender. Tegan sighed and removed your finger from the button so that the blender stopped. “You’re obviously feeling something and I’d like to know what it is.” 

“I feel like I’m not getting back in the ring anytime soon. I feel like there’s an unbearable pain when I go to take a bump. I feel like I fucked myself in that ring back there and now I’m paying for it now,” you said and Tegan took your cheeks in her hands. She relaxed a little when she touched you, but you were still frustrated with yourself. 

“This is a process. You’re very hurt. You’ve been through a lot lately and I don’t blame you for getting frustrated and upset. However, you need to find something to get through everything. I found my thing and look at me now,” Tegan said and you nodded. “I have a meeting to attend to. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Do you want me to grab anything for you?” 

“No, I’m fine. I might go to the PC in a bit,” you said and Tegan sighed. “I’ll be careful not to overwork myself.” 

“Wait for me to get back please.” Tegan kissed you goodbye. You watched her leave and then went back to your smoothie. You thought about what she had said about finding something to help you get through it. Nothing in your life had been more impactful, aside from wrestling, than Tegan had. Tegan was strong, she had been through a devastating injury and come back better than ever, which meant you could too. There was nothing in your way except for yourself. If you were gonna make a comeback for any reason, making one for Tegan was the surefire way to make sure you followed through. 

You pushed through a couple more months of rehabbing and physical therapy before you got your clearance. You didn’t get a title match right off the bat, but you did get a match against Charlotte. Your main roster debut was special, and you owed it all to Tegan. People were congratulating you once you got backstage, but the person who was most excited for you was Tegan. 

“I can’t tell you how proud of you I am,” Tegan said as she hugged you. You hugged her back and tried not to cry. Tegan didn’t care about not crying, so there were happy tears streaming down her cheeks. “You did so good out there. I knew that you could do it.” 

“Thank you for believing in me. I don’t think I could have gone through that recovery without you.” Tegan shook her head at your words before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“You would have recovered without me, I know it,” Tegan said and you rested your forehead against hers. The two of you stood there for a moment enjoying each other until you heard a throat clear behind you. You turned around to see Candice, Rhea, Toni, Piper, and Kay Lee standing behind you. “Did you really think I came here alone?” 

“I’m coming for your championship,” you said as you hugged Rhea and Kay Lee. “Both of them.” 

“Don’t wear yourself out though,” Kay Lee warned and you nodded. After the show, Tegan found a bar for all of you to celebrate at and you eventually walked back to the hotel in the early hours of the morning. In the morning, you got on a plane and found yourself back in Florida with just enough time to recover from your hangover before your NXT return.

[fictional-scenarios]

You are a angel; but guardian angels are specifically chosen and assigned to a person. When an irresponsible guardian angel is deprived of their job, you are chosen as their replacement. However, they did quite some damage to the human they were supposed to protect, and now you have to help them through their experiences when they have almost nothing to believe in. toshinori please? thank you so much!!!

try to try again

pairing: toshinori yagi // reader

a/n: this was the best thing ever to write thank you SO much for the unique prompt

warnings: none

Angels weren’t the beings humankind always chalked them up to be. Pure, uncorrupt,  incapable of wrong. Human’s loved to dabble into other affairs, to tell those they adored, you are an angel. If only they knew the weight of their words- so innocent and easy to slap over a pretty face, a pretty soul. Blissfully unaware of the pain an angel can easily cast upon its own persons. Unaware that not everything angelic is inherently good.Guardian angels are supposed to be all above, but unfortunately, some fall well below. Before, you’d been so blind to it.You stand before a broken man. It’s all the proof you need.

There is no bird’s-eye view. You don’t hover above the clouds and watch his day to day life with a halo over your head, cloud perched beneath your body like bedding. There’s no broad wings or a holy glow- you will never appear in front of him shrouded in light. Instead you witness like a bystander, like a tag-along. He’s so far gone, but maybe, just maybe, you can bring him back.His room is almost boringly empty, and it makes you unsure. You’re new to the game, only having been assigned to this poor being just recently, and already you knew you had your work cut out for you. He’s in pain, physically and mentally, under the weight of both a thousand figurative eyes and his own need to push well beyond. He can be read like a book when he’s alone staring at his floor, unknowing of your presence. It’s better that way- if he was aware there could be eyes on him perpetually at all times, he could never show himself like this. Humankind needs to feel alone to show their true colors. Only you, your kind, get to witness a person stripped to their bare emotions, unhinged and unmasked.So many different faces hidden from friends and family.

Toshinori Yagi. A human subjected to cruelty at the hands of one of your own. Irresponsibility is intolerable, especially in regards to life so fragile, and it was easy to see why. Of course you tapped into his memories and relations, and what you saw had you wondering if perhaps he would be more suited for someone a little more experienced. A hero, a legend in a time of need, slowly dissolving without a handle to grasp onto. The symbol of peace stares of the floor of his empty bedroom. His brows knit, he glances out the window, towards the rising sun, and sighs. Another day.

Like a ghost attached to its item, you follow Yagi through his daily life. It all passes so quickly, there’s so little time. Hours and minutes gone like a riptide, countless lives caught in its wake, colliding into one another in perfect harmony. So many lives, so many different paths. Why Yagi was dealt the cards he was forced to take, you’ll never know. Cruel, unfair, to see such a bright person melt like a candle under an open flame.Yet he still fights. You soon realize that he is both the wax, and the fire. Watching from the sidelines is difficult, you knew that before you were assigned to him, but it’s even harder being up close and personal. So many times you wanted to reach out, to shape his reality at your very whim, but you were well versed in the guidelines of your mission. Direct intervention was heeded against. You could not bend time, nor could you morph worlds to your liking. You could, however, form the foundations. So that, you did. Little things here and there,  making sure his coffee had the perfect amount of sweetness, being the little voice in the back of his head to take an umbrella with him just in case. He’d dropped his pen and you didn’t let it roll too far away. You’d given him the idea to eat lunch with his students, learn them a bit better, to mentor and train them. His injury was hindering, but you soothed him the best you could with restful sleeps.

Through villain attacks and heart-wrenching battles, you offered and fed him strength of your own, converted to sheer will. Even when he spit blood, felt his body long to give out, you allowed him to push on and use your own given energy. His power was immense- he really was a hero. Why his previous guardian would steer him so wrong you’ll never understand. Such a unique person, so many different paths he could have been led down, and yet his petals continued to dry and fall over something out of his grasp.

One of his students, a small green haired boy, is his own product. He guides him, raises him up and keeps him at bay all at once, just the way he should. The child emits such energy, radiates off him and the way Yagi’s heart swells with pride at his successions makes you suddenly aware why you’re doing this in the first place. Why you too, feel warmth in your figurative chest when he’s moving easier, talking a little livelier, breathing a little deeper. He’s been toyed with for so long- you wish you could take it all back. You ache to rewind and rebuild and create a timeline for him that doesn’t end in anguish despite his legacies carrying on for years to come. But, angels cannot intervene. They can only watch, and protect when due. Just as he is, you feel trapped within yourself. He wakes up every-morning with that same expression, distant and contemplative. You give him gifts to remind him why his life is worth living. With time, he eventually relearns to try and smile when a bird chirps at him through the glass of his window. 

Seasons come and go like clockwork. Day falls and night breaks way for the morning. Sun and stars dance in harmony, under an open universe out of reach. Yagi’s come farther with your help, subtle pushes to get him up and out the door. You cannot heal him, but you can help him cope. If you had a physical body, you would want to reach out, to touch and soothe him. Perhaps this is the reason angels aren’t offered the luxury of a figure, instead just a ever-present conscious, an eternal being serving as a witness to your assignments testimony. Some days are better than others. Some days he wakes up easy, lives his day to the fullest, laughs and smiles and let’s himself feel like tomorrow may bring even better bearings. Other days, however, he just stares at the ceiling. He looks, and feels, empty. The shell of a man he once lead himself to believe he was, only to cave and lose the means to even sit up at all. Those are the times you work your hardest- let the wind pass through a draft just in hopes that he’d get up and close the window. You’ve knocked over books and papers trying to gain his attention, to remind him that the day has begun. Usually he gets up and fixes the mess you made, but there are times when there’s nothing. He feels nothing until finally he feels something, or at least convinces himself he does enough to finally move.

He worries about the future more often than he would ever even admit to himself, and you wish you could find a voice to tell him to stop. That no matter what happens, he will be okay. That you will always be the being to keep him out of harm's way in whatever ways you can. You want to blanket him from everything he’s been ordered to endure at the hands of a disobedient and reckless angel.Sometimes you wonder if he can hear your sobs echoing in the back of his mind. You wonder if he can feel your pull. You wonder if he knows you reside within the birds greeting him in the morning, the cats brushing up against his legs. You are the breeze cooling him on a summer's day, and you are the rains cleansing him under a gray sky.  Guiding him, you urge him to spend more time with those he loves. They come as ideas, as ‘maybe I should’s, and he falls for it everytime. It’s nice to see him spend time with his friends, who remark about his growing happiness with a fondness only you thought you felt for him. He trains his legacy child, and coddles a misunderstood menace, and he stands before monsters to remind everyone under his wing that they are safe, he is there. With time, he gets better.But then, as if it was meant to be, it all falls down.

The rain that cleansed him now serves to drown him.He pants heavy and feels everything threaten to crumble. All-For-One watches him domineeringly, he knows he’s won. His opponent, in all his mighty glory, has fallen. He tells Yagi things that he knows will secure his win, to devastate the man in one blow. Every single word is another cut on his skin until he feels like he can’t bear it any longer. He’s melting, he’s losing his grasp. He’s seeing nothing and everything- his wrongdoings and the things he could have done better.

You watch like a bystander, uselessly begging for him to not give up. Crying out for him, trying to reach out for him, trying to feed him whatever power you could possibly have. He falls to his knees and you feel your figurative life flash before your eyes. You see him- his life, the life that was put into your hands to keep him safe- you were supposed to keep him safe- you were supposed to do everything within your power to fix the mess that he was left with-A woman watches in shambles, and you can’t bear to let Yagi give in now. You touch her.“Don’t give up!” She screams. You bring her head up, wounds and a small voice piercing through him. “Don’t lose!”He can hear you now, even if it’s not your voice.

You touch the watchers, the children and the friends and the family, as they all cry out for him to fight, to win, to not give up.A candle melted into a pool surrounding his shaky feet and you can see that he isn’t done. Not yet. There’s a flicker of light, and he watches his opponents under his brows readies himself, kindles the fire threatening to douse under the pressure of everything at once, he just needs a little more-

Rules be damned.You surround him, you reach out-You touch him. He lights into an inferno, raw energy and power radiating off him while he fights for himself and those around him all over again. He’s alive- he’s burning through it all but he’s alive and he’s not stopping until he’s thrown every last punch, roared every last battle cry, beaten his opponent into the ground and stood over his body in victory despite the pain dripping off him in waves.

There’s silence.

When he lets himself slump forward, you let go.

You cry. He doesn’t see you, but he feels you. He stares up at the sky and breathes so deep into his lungs that he feels they may burst. Points into the camera after he’s taken his moment.‘You’re next.’You know who he calls out to, and if you could taste, you’re sure it would be bittersweet. You’ve broken the rules. You’ve altered the world in his favor, in your own selfish favor to see him prevail and survive. It doesn’t scare you- if losing it all meant his succession, it will all have been worth it. Whether your higher ups decide to punish you for your misdeeds or not, there isn’t a single regret lodged into your brain.

Especially not when he’s carted to a hospital alive and breathing, and you, as always follow. He’s lost it all but won everything in the process. In his hospital bed the following morning, he blinks himself away and forces himself to sit up.

You’re waiting for something to happen, to be pulled away from him due to your own actions. Just incase it may be the last time, you bring him a gift.

A bird perches on the sill of his open window, and chirps.

Yagi smiles, and you know no matter what, you’ve won as well.

[rom-e-o]

11 Facts About Me

I was tagged by @gentle-outlaw! Thanks so much! It was a joy reading your answers, and you picked really fun questions!

1. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the 3rd line on that page? 

“...they both cried, and in an instant they were once more transformed.”

2. What is your happiest memory and why?

Huh. I...don’t think I have one? At least, not a ‘happiest’ one. I try to live very moment-to-moment.

3. Do you have any OC's (for fanfiction or totally original)? If so, describe them or if you have more than one, describe your favorite one!

Oh my gosh.

Um. I have a ton. Like..four novels worth of original OCs.

The one I draw the most often on Tumblr is probably Enka, an original OC. She’s a military guard on a touristy island that loses her voice after her throat is slashed during an all-out attack that destroys her home. So, being an extrovert with an idealistic sense of justice, she has to relearn everything about rebuilding trust and bonds without per previously standard communication options all while fighting against an oppressive religious oligarchy. Basically, she’s a voiceless video game protag in book form. At least, I hope.

4. Who is your all time favorite fictional character and why?

(Sweats)

Um. This is really hard! My favorites change depending on what I’m writing/doing lol. I’m going to choose L’Arachel from Fire Emblem. I’ve literally loved her since elementary school.

After her, I’d have to narrow it down by series.

5. What do you find yourself thinking about the most?

“What should I do for the next chapter?”

6. Look out your nearest window and describe what you see!

Garden lights. And a birdbath that needs cleaning.

7. What makes you feel nostalgic?

90s music and the New Jersey boardwalk.

8. You have two hours left on earth, how do you spend them?

I write an ending to every fanfic I’ve left on hiatus. Then, I go on a long hike. Oh, and I’d put a CD in the microwave! You know, live on the fringe and be a rebel.

9. What's your favorite sound?

Synth.

10. What was the first fandom you were involved in?

The Mythical Detective Loki Ragnarok “fandom.” (It was like me and five other people...on a good day.) If you look at my old FF account, it’s mostly MDLR.

My first big fandom was Tales of Symphonia. I’m still not done crying about Regal/Alicia.

11. Describe your idea of a perfect day!

I’d watch the sunrise, go work-out, write, and then go out to a club/concert. And I’d finally beat Witcher 3.

I’ll pass the question baton to @my-name-is-clover!