#and its been important my steps of recovery and finding myself

[chaotic-on-main]

Can I just-

I hope the people on here realize that y'all came at such a vital time for me. I needed y'all so much more than I thought and I'm happy to have y'all in my life, regardless of how short or long lived our friendships and acquaintanceship lasts. 😭

[writingnocturne]

Clumsy with Secrets

A Link Between Worlds

Expand to Read!

A tranquil night. A deep, dark sky… the twinkling of stars. Such a new thing, in a place like this. As a boy walks through Lorule Field, he can't help but admire it. For so long, this kingdom was barely clinging to its life. But now, it flourishes. He actually feels safe outside! A vast improvement, in his eyes. Nearing the castle, the boy begins to speak to the little white bird closely following him. It bobs up and down to replicate the movement of his steps.

"It's really starting to remind you of Hyrule, isn't it, Sheerow?" Ravio closes his eyes, grinning at the clear recovery. He is about to continue, but finds he stumbles from lack of attention. He clears his throat and continues like nothing happened, continuing on, "I hope Mr. Hero and his princess know how much they've helped… And now it'll finally be recognized! …I never took Princess Hilda as the type to throw parties like this, myself, though."

Sheerow chirps before landing on Ravio's head, between his cap's two rabbit ears. The ears lower to the side to make way for the bird, but the hat nearly slips as it sits atop his head rather than over it as it used to be worn. The boy quickly shoots his hand up to the hat, stopping it before it can drag off his head from the weight of the bird's landing. "Ah– Careful!"

Sheerow only seems to stare, as if unamused. Somehow, Ravio understands this completely. "Oh, don't give me that look… these are my nice clothes. The town hasn't finished all its wares yet…"

The pair come up towards the castle doors, which for once are opened to the rest of the Kingdom. Light pours outside from within, a welcoming yet intimidating sight. Ravio awkwardly tugs at his scarf. "...Even if I dressed my best, I can't say I'm not… having second thoughts–" His thought is interrupted by the bird lowering in front of his face, blocking his way. Ravio hurriedly waves his hands. "Not that I'm turning back! I promised her I'd be here! I won't ever leave her waiting for me again–" He sighs, tilting his head a bit in the embarrassment that he even considered his own cowering to show.

"C'mon, buddy… let's not keep her waiting!" Ravio marches right into the Castle, trying to keep his head held up high as Sheerow again follows in a synchronized motion. He has to be formal, after all… this is the first royal event held in Lorule in… in centuries! Yes, it's quite an important endeavor.

And soon enough, he arrives: The new throne room of Lorule Castle. It's been recently fixed up and decorated, definitely aiming to make a good first true impression between the princess and her distant subjects. As spectacular and eye-catching as all the food and shiny decor is, however, the first thing that he really notices is Hilda. She… doesn't seem to be having as much fun as he expected, though. She's proudly standing before her throne, sure, but the way she's holding her staff… Her fingers occasionally shift, an unusually firm grip upon it as if every muscle has tensed. A passerby wouldn't notice it… but Ravio does. She's anxious.

Ravio frowns somewhat at the sight. People actually showed up, this is what she wanted. Yet here she is, worried. He immediately springs up and approaches the throne, but remembers his manners halfway and kneels. "Good evening, my princess." Ravio keeps his head upright as he kneels, just to be sure his hat doesn't falter again. Sheerow tilts in the air to mimic a kneel as well. It's their greeting that seems to snap Hilda out of it; her gaze snapping back down to them in an instant.

"...Oh–! There you are…" Hilda readjusts her stance, but there is a pause as she tries to find the right words. "...Yes, good evening." The princess takes a step down from the throne, stopping directly in front of Ravio. The formalities and such have always been common with him, despite how close they are, but right now she has subconsciously chosen to avoid it.

With her before him now, Ravio almost considers saying something to her; bringing up her expression. But he decides he has a better idea than making it clear he's worried about her. If he did, that'd make her… well, it would make her more worried. So instead, he tries to keep the mood light, "There are a lot of people here…! That's a pretty good turnout for a party, if I do say so myself! Especially with uh… how nobody used to throw 'em at all, y'know?" He kind of lost what he was saying near the end, but he's not sure she noticed…

Hilda noticed, but she understands what he meant, "(I must admit, I am rather surprised myself… I never expected any sort of turn out at all)." She mumbles her words.

Ravio lowers his voice as well, leaning in somewhat now that he understands she doesn't want the conversation to be too public, "(Princess, they're all as happy to see the life returned to the land as we are! And I'm sure they'll be glad to really know you, too. That's what the party's for, right?)"

"(I suppose…)" Hilda trails her gaze to the guests. It's only her reputation on the line… with the consideration of centuries of negative relation with the Lorulean Royal Family…

"(...)" Ravio gazes at her in silence for a moment, wondering how he could get her mind somewhere other than the past. Perhaps there is some way to pull her into the present… He glances at his hat for one reason or another, but simply brushes away whatever thought he had. "(Would you care to go out to the floor, Your Highness?)" Ravio offers a hand, doing a slight bow. "(I would be honored to serve as an escort!)" His little feathered companion keeps beside his head and sways from side to side, trying to encourage Hilda to go have fun.

There is a slight hesitation, but the princess gives a brief nod. "I would be honored to join you." She gently places her hand atop his, gaining a rare, ever-so-slight smile. It brings a warmness to Ravio's face, as if the sunlight her smile brings has physically affected him. Rather oblivious to it, however, he leads her to the floor of guests mingling amongst themselves. He can see now why Hilda was… uneasy. Even if they all showed up, they all are staying clumped in groups. There is still a long way to go, it seems… but progress is progress. He won't let that get in the way of cheering her up!

Readjusting his hat a smidge, making sure the little rabbit face is straight up, Ravio stops. "I would… offer a dance, but something tells me I'm not the most graceful in the room. We could see if we could find you a partner who is, though?"

"...No, it's alright." Hilda peers around. "I'm not much of a dancer, either." She lifts her hand, a spell transporting her staff back to the throne anyway.

This leaves Ravio drawing a blank, as he didn't exactly plan this far ahead. …Okay, that's a lie. He planned a lot of things he wanted to say while he attended this special occasion, but he's already established to himself he will set them aside. This is a complete change of plans… and he has no idea what he's doing! Improvisation it is.

"Everything looks great. I could never keep something so organized."

"...That's a little harsh on yourself, is it not?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised…! The most clean I can keep anything is that little shop I set up in the town. I… actually ended up pretty fond of mine in Hyrule."

"...You mean the hero's house?" Hilda was informed of Ravio's residency there previously. The thought amuses her, as unprofessional as it was.

"...Yep. But hey! Having my own place is pretty nice. I got my own signs and all."

"You're really leaning into this whole merchant thing, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little…" Ravio tilts his head somewhat, having to keep a hand against it. "But that doesn't mean I'll stop my work around here. I like getting to come here so often…" He thinks over his words, "...Some fresh air could help things relax, though. I'd be happy to show you the set-up sometime. Princesses get a discount, I promise!"

"Already advertising!" Hilda comments in a joking manner, but her visage suddenly takes a shift to a more reserved look. "...I would love to, but there is too much work to be done here."

"Your Highness, you haven't given yourself a break since the Triforce returned..." He is certain she's tired by now. That's probably fueling her trepidation surrounding the party. "If… you want to talk to me, you can. I'll listen, I know you need it every once in a while." Ravio takes a calm hold of her hands, delivering a sweet smile.

The princess seems reluctant to respond to this at all, but in truth she knows he's right. Even in the case that her sorrow tends to get the better of her… things always did play out more favorably when there was someone she could genuinely trust. "...In truth… even with the Triforce restored, I remain burdened by the legacy of my ancestors. Lorule healing does not erase all of the pain caused by their actions. All of the pain I could have caused them." Hilda shuts her eyes during this confession, frustrated with herself. "Standing face to face amongst the people of Lorule… I am reminded. I have been so easily manipulated by my duty to repair Lorule before… What if something like that happens again? (What if I hurt these people)?"

…

There is a pause. Ravio almost seems… surprised by such a response. Not the first half, no, but– the idea that Hilda could do something as extreme as endanger a world again. He never even acknowledged the possibility.

"...Princess," The young merchant begins, "You can't assume you'll always do the wrong thing just because of one mistake! Sure, you trusted the wrong person. But that's not your fault alone when he took advantage of your grief and love for your home! I… shouldn't have left you to face something like that alone... But I promise I won't again. Even if I'm not all that… brave."

"Ravio– You..." Hilda's voice cuts in so quickly that she nearly interrupts him, only for it to fade quickly. "I thought you were a traitor even though I knew you meant well!" She's nearly breathless from his previous words, "Despite such things, you still… came back when I needed you most. You've stayed, too. Even now, you are someone I can talk to without bitterness. It… truly does make it feel as though there is hope to change things. You don't owe me anything more." She leans a bit closer to him, a smile now lingering on her face. "...Thank you."

Ravio gains a little grin to know his words have reached her. His hands gently tighten around hers, as he's failed to realize just how close they've gotten. Probably for the best. "Of course, princess. I…–"

Sheerow rests on his head again. Ravio blinks, feeling his hood begin to slip as a result. It's such a problem, just trying to wear it without covering his entire face! The little bird hurries to the rescue, moving to push it back up onto his head… but fails entirely, instead sending it too far forward. It flops off of Ravio's head, right in front of his face. The boy scrambles to catch it, but it just ends up bouncing off his fumbling hands and drifting further away. He awkwardly steps past Hilda to try and catch it, only to trip himself on the rim of his robe… and faceplant only an inch away from it. The cap lands on its face as well, revealing an entire stash of purple flowers spilling out of it. The scattering of purple petals sends his heart racing in a panic. The one thing he specifically told himself not to screw up, yet here he is!

"...Goodness– Ravio, are you alright?" Hilda looks to him with a hand slightly over her mouth, then heading over. She's used to him being a klutz, but what an inconvenient time…

Ravio rapidly tries to piece himself back together. Oh, he can't let this mess-up… mess this up! In his panic, he attempts to instantaneously muster up some courage– all the things he wanted to tell her tonight– to ramble it out of his system. But all that comes out of him is, "...Hilda, I–"

Then she offers her hand. Ravio can feel himself beginning to suffocate from the unintentional holding of his breath. She gives him such a confused stare… Can he really do this now? They were making progress... He wants her to know that she doesn't need to feel so weighed down. That's more important.

He takes her hand, scooping his hat up in the process. Once he stands, he regroups the flowers he had stashed away inside. "I… saw these flowers growing outside my house. They reminded me of you, so I thought you'd like them. As a sort of… party gift." He manages to get out a sentence, finally. "You deserve something, too, after all of the care you've put into rebuilding Lorule." Ravio politely offers her the now messy bouquet.

Hilda's expression drops into a stunned one, but she takes the bouquet. It's… not very neat, but she has an expression as if she was just given the most prized roses anyone has ever laid eyes on. "...Th… thank you. I didn't… expect anything–"

"I know." Ravio scratches the back of his head in embarrassment, before plopping his hat back onto his head… all the way over his face. "That's why it's called a surprise, Your Highness!"

Much to his dismay, however, Hilda reaches over and pulls the hood up from over his blushing face. "You realize you've done enough, don't you?"

"Like I said, I know-! But if you can go above and beyond, so can I."

..

"...Why don't you join me back up there?" Hilda motions to the throne, still holding onto the rim of Ravio's cap with her other hand, "I had something written for the celebration… I would like you to be recognized, as well."

"Wh– Me?? Princess, you're certain you–?"

"I am. Would you be alright with it…?"

"...In front of all those people, huh? …Why not!" Ravio chuckles, carefully taking her hand. He knows he certainly wouldn't mind the recognition, although he isn't so sure he deserves any credit… But that'd make him a bit of a hypocrite to refuse, wouldn't it? The boy doesn't mind. He needs to work on his own boldness, anyway… And it seems today just wasn't the day to take as large of a leap as he aimed for. A little step like this will be okay, for now!

…

He can always tell her another day.

Note:

I literally wrote this in the span of a couple of/few hours whilst half asleep so have my tired little ramblings of underrated characters. :)

Ravio finally convinces himself he has the courage to tell Hilda something important... But he decides other things are more important for her to heal, for the time being.

Other Writing:

If you like my style, you can find some of my other writing here: @loz-untold-myths

[hattiestgal]

Right, now to like actually talk about the current situation in a little more detail.

To put it simply, I'm taking a break from doing art for a bit, and opening a secret drawing box in its stead as a sorta thing to fill the gap (You can find that here). I'd love to show off all of you guys' lovely art!!

I don't imagine my break'll be too long. I've got plenty of things I wanna draw, just not a whole lot of energy to do it at the moment! Recovery time and all...

Now, for a slightly more detailed look at what all has happened. So I'm sure you can imagine, but I'm in funky burnout purgatory at the moment, and that's for one relatively simple reason. I just pushed myself too hard.

This is the first time I've ever really grown any kind of community on any social media site. For the first time in a long time, my enthusiasm for drawing was completely rejuvenated cause I wanted to make cool stuff for all these people who started following me! Plus, I felt like I could really express myself here. I met cool people, I got some really cool mutuals, it's always a joy to read people's tags, so I just kept on making stuff.

Eventually, the doodle game got introduced into the mix. I got to interact with my community and make the art they were interested in seeing directly! But as I kept going, I kept pushing myself to improve the quality of the drawings. Suddenly, doodles turned to rough commission quality lineart, all while I was keeping up the same pace I did when I had introduced the game in the first place, and well, I overworked myself.

I had to stop and just do something else. And yet, I couldn't help but feel guilty the entire time. I tried time and time again over the past few days to get the last asks done to no avail, and that just made everything worse. Burnout is a cruel thing when you tie things like self-worth to productivity (thank you, capitalist society), and it just sorta spiraled.

So by last night, I've put a lot of this together in my head (with the help of one of my lovely followers reaching out to me to give me some perspective), and honestly I just sort made things worse in the process, my brain was insistent that I should have known better.

But I think there's one very helpful bit of advice I've been learning, especially recently, and that's the fact that I'm still learning. This was literally the first time I've ever really done something like this. I haven't had the community to get overenthusiastic over before, so how would I have known better? I wouldn't have! And I just think it's important to remember that I'm not gonna be good at anything on my first try, but I have the capacity to learn. Things will improve with experience.

I'm feeling far better now than I was before, especially with everyone's kind words and love. I deeply appreciate all of you. I've learned my lesson and will be taking steps to handle all of this better in the future. Thank you all for understanding <3

[chowderofcats]

Questions & Answers // Q&A

If a question you have isn't answered here, please send an ask in our inbox and we'll add it if we see fit!

Thank you.

(A TLDR will be added at the bottom of each answer. I know the answers are lengthy, sorry for that!)

Q: Why did you make this blog?

A: I carry a lot of embarrassment and shame around my disorder. This blog was an idea encouraged by our therapist in hopes of finding community and positivity. I really want to be less ashamed about this disorder, as I can't even bring myself to talk to my closest friends about it. This blog is here both as an outlet for us to be ourselves and for me to feel less horrible about all of this.

TLDR: I want to be less embarrassed, and to find community. Therapist encouraged the blog.

Q: "Professionally recognized P-DID"?

A: Professionally recognized is a term we use in replacement of medically recognized as we see it as more fitting. We are not diagnosed and I don't want to accidentally imply we are.

Simply put, our therapist and psychiatrist both seem to agree we experience some form of multiplicity.

TLDR: Therapist + psychiatrist both agree, but it's not official/on paper.

Q: You're not diagnosed? Why?

A: As of now, we do not wish to seek a diagnosis for OSDDID. Such a disorder being on our medical record seems much more risky than not. First off, we are trying to immigrate and have heard that certain diagnoses will affect immigration, I don't want to hurt my chances of escaping where I live. As well as, while we are an adult, we do not support ourselves. Our parents would discover the diagnosis regardless of if we want them to (yes, we know theres privacy regulations in place for medical records. It really doesn't matter).

We have a trauma disorder for a reason. Please understand why that might not be the best for us. Perhaps in the future, we will, though.

TLDR: It's currently dangerous for us to get a diagnosis like this.

Q: How do you know you have P-DID?

A: We don't! I find it important to note that we can be wrong. We don't know if we have P-DID, DID, OSDD, etc. We really won't know until we get a proper diagnosis and/or proper screenings & assessments (we have had assessments in the past, but they weren't inherently for DID, only for our other diagnosis. Although I think we did get tested at some point? I'd need to contact my psychiatrist for that information). We, as of now, are only going off what we have discussed with our therapist and psychiatrist, alongside our own education and experiences (we are currently in college to make a pathway towards a career in therapy/counseling. Due to this, we have very fortunate opportunities to further our education and understandings of both ourselves and those around us).

All we do know for certain is that we experience severe disassociation, identity disturbances, memory loss, and what seems to be severe trauma (I don't really remember it all, and apparently, some happened pre-verbal, so idfk man).

TLDR: I don't know and won't until I get an actual diagnosis. I can only go off of the information I have currently.

Q: Are you planning on recovery or...

Absolutely, our disorders are hell on earth, and the sooner gone/made less shitty, the better. Still debating between final fusion and functional/healthy multiplicity. For healthy multiplicity, I think I'd only want one other alter to stay separate, two others at maximum. We used to have a major problem with splitting too much too often (likely a result of living in a high stress environment). I think it's calmed now, although I'm unsure. We've had lots of fusion between dissociative parts as of late (which is both good and bad in its own ways, since this hasn't been done in the most healthy of ways). Healing is slow, but I like to think that one step forward and two steps back only means I'll atleast know how to take the next two steps with ease. Progress is progress.

TLDR: Yes. Obviously.

Q: Why do you use both "we" and "I"?

A: I use "I" when referring to an individual thought, memory, emotion, etc, that applies to me specifically and not the whole(or majority) of the system. We use "we" when referring to general things, or widely known/accepted ideas, memories, etc, or just us as a whole.

TLDR: We = general, I = personal.

Q: Why are you so "introject-heavy"?

A: While it seems to be uncommon or rare, we are! I also, for once, may have a real answer to this. Growing up, ever since we started forming memories properly (and for reasons I don't understand), we've been creating OCs (original chatacters) as a coping mechanism. Disassociation was our main form of survival to get through traumatic situations, and usually, we did so with creating fictional characters.

If you wanted my guess? Since our brain already used fictional characters as a coping mechanism, our brain further applied the mechanism to what it decided we needed to "survive." Us having most of our alters be fictional characters or characters we made ourselves that got introjected makes a lot of sense. Our *only* safe space growing up was books and shows, which obviously centered around fictional characters. School and home life were both hostile, so we surrounded ourselves with imaginary things. Our only escape at the time was fiction.

Also, a note, introjects (be it fictives or not), are not the character, person, or thing that they represent. Introjects are simply alters that, when splitting, had absorbed traits from something external (such ad loved ones, characters, abusers, etc.) People who are not systems introject all the time, most commonly from loved ones. An example being when you start clicking with one of your friend and start subconsciously copying their mannerisms and personality traits. You can introject parts of anything into yourself subconsciously, fictional or not. It's incredibly normal! Introjects in systems are just more extreme cases of it.

TLDR: Brain has a weird ass coping mechanism and I don't know why it's there. Fiction was the only escape we had. + introjects aren't actual characters, just an alter that... introjected traits.

(Please understand all of the above information is written with my current knowledge, I can be wrong, and I likely am in various places. Be patient and understanding. I will correct any mistakes when I learn new information, you are free to contact me with concerns.)

[transdruid]

New Year Reading for myself

With The Wild Wood Tarot by Mark Ryan and John Matthews, illustrated by Will Worthington

Spiritual next steps - Queen of Arrows: Swan

Creative next steps - Knight of Stones: Horse

Something to leave behind - Four of Vessels: Boredom

Queen of Arrows - Swan

"A state of separation may exist, bringing with it sorrow, privation, and misfortune. You may need to break old bonds and find new rivers in which to swim if you are to move beyond this place of darkness and loss."

Keywords: Purity, loss, change, suffering, song, absence, scarcity, freedom after strife

Knight of Stones - Horse

"Healthy activity and self-sufficiency colour your path. Physical strength supports your decisions and pleasure is important. Daring, pride, and a love of the Earth lead you to attempt ever more amazing feats. Let the horse carry you."

Keywords: Activity, kindness and helpfulness, perseverance, benefiting, a good ally, profit, a quick grasp of essentials

Four of Vessels - Boredom

"The universe responds favorably to a decisive, forward momentum, while boredom leaves a person in a state of inaction ... in the end it is from ourselves that the first sparks of momentum must emanate ... recognize and acknowledge the proffered doorways ... challenge should not be feared; opportunity should be grasped and utilized to its natural limit."

This is the deck I have the most profound and deep relationship with. In spite of the flaws that come with the authors ahistorical beliefs, this deck helped me lay down the foundation of my spirituality, and my relationship with my spiritual guides. This is often the deck I turn to for guidance and direction.

For my spiritual life, it's very true that there has been a separation/loss over the last year or two. I was very deeply connected to my spirituality, and then we moved. The move cut off my ability to walk in the woods daily, and that almost immediately created a disconnect. The move also meant that all of my alters were packed away, and I have yet to fully integrate them back into my space. One of my new years resolutions is to find a walking trail close by, something I can access regularly (right now the closest I know of is a 20 minute drive). Already I have been feeling more connected as I pull more tarot cards, may this swan bring me freedom in better waters.

Creatively I have been feeling a bloom. I have always been creative, but life, depression, and stress had--until recently--kept me in a creative strangle hold. In 2022, I started to read again. Since then, I have felt the creative spark inside me slowly grow into a steady flame. The Knight of Stones encourages me to throw wood on that fire, and hit the ground running! I also get a kick (ha) out of the imagery of horses related to my personal creative drive. I have drawn. So. Many. Horses.

I laughed when I saw Boredom. Over the last year, my need for rest has ebbed, and I have felt more and more restless. An exciting step in my recovery, but one that brought increasing levels of boredom with my previous routines. Over the last few months I have become better and better at catching this feeling and steering myself towards an activity. Time to practice that some more!

[its-landezan]

Finding Light in the Darkness: My Journey with Anxiety and Depression

Welcome to my personal blog, where I share the raw and real experiences of navigating life with anxiety and depression. In this post, I want to open up about my struggles, victories, and the lessons I've learned along the way.

For years, I battled with a darkness that seemed to consume every aspect of my life. Anxiety gripped me with its suffocating tendrils, while depression weighed heavy on my heart. Simple tasks felt like insurmountable mountains, and each day was a battle just to get out of bed.

Admitting that I needed help was one of the hardest but most important steps I ever took. I sought therapy and medication, surrounding myself with a support network of friends and family who lifted me up when I couldn't stand on my own. Asking for help wasn't a sign of weakness; it was an act of courage. Recovery wasn't a linear path; it was filled with ups and downs, twists and turns. But through it all, I learned to celebrate the small victories the days I managed to shower, the moments of laughter amidst the tears. These tiny triumphs were beacons of hope in the darkness, guiding me forward one step at a time.

As I journeyed towards healing, I discovered the importance of self-care. Whether it was taking long walks in nature, practicing mindfulness meditation, or indulging in a good book, I learned to prioritize my mental and emotional well-being. Self-care wasn't selfish; it was a vital lifeline that kept me afloat.

Opening up about my struggles with anxiety and depression was daunting, but it was also liberating. By sharing my story, I hoped to break the stigma surrounding mental illness and spark conversations about mental health. No one should suffer in silence, and no one should feel ashamed for seeking help.

What is Anxiety? Anxiety is a feeling of worry or fear about what might happen in the future. It's normal to feel anxious sometimes, but when it's too much and affects your daily life, it's called an anxiety disorder. This can make you feel restless, tense, and have trouble concentrating. Treatment can include therapy, medication, and learning relaxation techniques to help manage anxiety.

Symptoms of Anxiety Anxiety symptoms vary depending on the disorder, but Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) typically involves experiencing several or most of the following symptoms:

Excessive worry about various aspects of life

Restlessness or feeling on edge

Difficulty controlling worry

Irritability

Difficulty concentrating

Muscle tension

Trouble falling or staying asleep

Fatigue

Physical symptoms such as headaches, stomachaches, or nausea

Experiencing anxiety symptoms for at least six months

What are the main types of anxiety? The main types of anxiety disorders are:

Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD): Excessive worry about everyday events.

Panic Disorder: Sudden, intense fear attacks without real danger.

Social Anxiety Disorder: Overwhelming worry about social situations.

Specific Phobias: Intense fear of specific objects or situations.

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD): Recurring thoughts and repetitive behaviors.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD): Develops after traumatic events.

Separation Anxiety Disorder: Excessive anxiety about separation.

Agoraphobia: Fear of situations where escape might be difficult.

What causes anxiety? Anxiety can be caused by a mix of factors like genetics, brain chemistry, stressful events, personality traits, health conditions, substance use, trauma, and learned behaviors. These factors can trigger feelings of worry and fear.

Final Thoughts My journey with anxiety and depression has been marked by darkness, but it has also been illuminated by moments of courage, resilience, and hope. While the battle may never truly end, I am grateful for how far I've come and the person I've become along the way. To anyone struggling in the darkness, know that you are not alone, and there is light waiting for you on the other side.

This article explains anxiety disorders in simple terms, helping readers grasp the topic better and feel more confident in supporting themselves or others facing similar difficulties. Understanding mental health is emphasized as crucial for self-care.

[smallnetbusiness]

How doxycycline ruined my life?

A popular antibiotic used to treat a variety of bacterial illnesses is doxycycline. But it does have adverse effects, much as many medications. Who would have anticipated that it would send me into such a chaotic cycle, though?  The tetracycline class of antibiotics includes doxycycline. It is often recommended by doctors and is a flexible drug that works for a variety of ailments, from cholera and Lyme disease to more serious ones like acne and urinary tract infections. It works by preventing the bacteria's ability to synthesize proteins, which prevents the development and multiplication of the bacteria. How doxycycline ruined my life? But just because it's used often doesn't imply everyone should use it. It affects each person's body differently, just like any medicine. While many people find relief without any problems, others like myself experience a maze of adverse effects. This emphasizes how important it is to comprehend drugs and more importantly to pay attention to our bodies. Because a one-size-fits-all approach to treatment sometimes leads to unanticipated results. My First Doxycycline Experience I felt like a godsend when I first began taking the medication. My symptoms drastically eased, but the happiness was fleeting. maybe the quiet before the storm? I saw a resurgence of energy and confidence in the first few weeks. The ongoing health problems that had plagued me seemed to be fading. The noticeable benefits were seen by friends and family, and life started to take on a happier tint. Lethargy in the morning, sporadic aches, and frequent aches that had been a normal part of my day were abruptly gone. I felt as if I had been given a second chance at life, and I was anxious to seize it. However, the original glow started to fade as days evolved into weeks. At first, changes were subtle—a stomachache here, an unexpected headache there. I made an effort to brush them off as minor adaptations in the hopes that they would go away as my body adjusted to the drug. But somewhere in the recesses of my mind, a small voice began to raise some doubts. I had no idea that this was just the beginning of a much longer and more complicated tale that Doxycycline had in store for me. The Silent Struggles, its Effects Despite its effectiveness, doxycycline may cause nausea, vomiting, and even photosensitivity in some people. However, are they the only problems? For me, no. My Conflict with the Side Effects of Doxycycline The response from my body was nothing less than a nightmare. Along with the physical symptoms, my emotional and mental health also progressively deteriorated. The Effect on Mental Health Both worry and depression It seems like you're confined to a room with no doors. It was debilitating to be filled with fear and grief all the time. Why wasn't I forewarned about this? Was I alone in this? Speak Up and Seek Assistance Asking questions, expressing worries, and getting second perspectives are all acceptable. My first step towards rehabilitation was speaking out. Recovery and Healing It's a difficult, protracted journey. Nevertheless, each journey begins with a single step. Will you take mine, I did. Acceptance and Forward Motion Although doxycycline briefly stopped my life in its tracks, it also helped me develop my resilience. The comebacks are what matters, not the failures. Why is Doxycycline so well-liked? Several important reasons that contribute to doxycycline's popularity include: Broad-spectrum antibiotic: Doxycycline is a broad-spectrum antibiotic, which means it works well against many different types of bacteria. This makes it a flexible option for doctors treating illnesses for which there is no obvious cause or who are awaiting the results of laboratory tests. Treatment Versatility: Doxycycline is used to treat a variety of ailments in addition to its ability to be broad-spectrum. Its uses are many and range from treating acne and rosacea to treating more severe illnesses including Lyme disease, respiratory tract infections, and even malaria prophylaxis. Cost-effectiveness: Doxycycline is often more economical than certain other antibiotics, making it a preferred option for both patients and healthcare professionals, particularly in environments with constrained resources. Convenient Dosing: Depending on the illness being treated, Doxycycline often may be given once or twice a day, unlike certain antibiotics that call for many doses throughout the day. It could increase patient compliance. Favorable Pharmacokinetics: Doxycycline has a long half-life, meaning it stays in the body for a longer period and requires fewer doses to be effective. Additionally, it successfully penetrates the tissue, which makes it useful against infections in many sections of the body. Antibiotic resistance is a problem for all antibiotics, however, Doxycycline has demonstrated, when administered properly, a substantially slower rate of resistance development than certain other antibiotics. However, Doxycycline has disadvantages just like any other drug. Physicians and patients must balance the advantages and dangers of a medicine's use due to the possibility of side effects, drug interactions, and contraindications in specific medical situations. As with other antibiotics, proper usage is essential to maximize efficacy and reduce the risk of resistance emergence. Conclusion Life is a mystery. Although the trip with Doxycycline was difficult, it forged a stronger me. Keep in mind that sometimes the conflicts we wage turn us into the protagonists of our tales. FAQs Is everyone harmed by doxycycline? No, each person has different side effects. It's crucial to keep an eye on your health and talk with your doctor. How can one deal with the Doxycycline side effects? Medical consultations, support networks, and self-care routines may all be beneficial. Exist substitutes for doxycycline? Yes, a variety of antibiotics are usable. Always get advice from a medical expert before making any decisions. How long does it take for the negative effects to subside? It differs. While some individuals heal fast, others may need more time. You must be patient and give yourself time. Can you immediately stop using Doxycycline? Before changing your medicine, always talk to your doctor first. Read the full article

[chriswilt1015]

To my beautiful wife,

It has been quite some time since we last spoke, and I've often found myself lost in a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. Today, however, I felt compelled to reach out and share my journey with you, as I believe it resonates with some of the challenges you may be facing.

Life has a peculiar way of taking unexpected turns, and sadly, my path took a particularly challenging detour. It began with the separation from my family, which was a blow I never saw coming. The pain of separation is like a vortex that swallows all happiness, leaving only an unbearable emptiness in its wake.

But amidst the shambles, there came an even greater challenge - an illness that tested my strength, both physically and mentally. Coping with a debilitating illness is a double-edged sword; you learn to appreciate the value of life, but it also serves as a constant reminder of your limitations. Simple tasks became mountainous obstacles, and the burden of my own thoughts seemed unbearable.

Depression, anxiety, and addiction soon followed suit, entangling me in an intricate web I struggled to free myself from. Every step towards recovery felt like an uphill battle, as though the weight of the world rested on my shoulders. The darkness seemed inescapable, a constant companion whispering lies into my ears and convincing me that life was not worth living.

But, dear friend, I am writing to you today because I found a way to overcome these adversities. It was not an easy journey, nor a linear one. It was filled with heartache, setbacks, and countless moments of despair. However, within the confines of my darkest moments, I found strength, resilience, and a determination to reclaim my life.

I dug deep and realized that healing begins within. I embarked on a journey of self-discovery, seeking therapy and support to address the deep-rooted pain that had festered within me for far too long. Through therapy, I learned to confront and process the emotions that had kept me imprisoned in a state of despair. It was a process that required vulnerability and a level of honesty I had not previously embraced.

In addition to therapy, I took control of my physical health. I sought medical treatment for my illness, finding solace in knowing that there were professionals who could guide me along the path of recovery. Small victories in my physical health served as the catalyst for my mental well-being, allowing me to regain control of my life one step at a time.

But perhaps the most profound lesson I learned was the importance of a support system. Loneliness and isolation often exacerbate our struggles, while the presence of a loving and understanding network creates a sanctuary of healing. I surrounded myself with individuals who supported and uplifted me, shedding toxic relationships that hindered my progress. Family, friends, and even newfound companions became the pillars that held me up when I felt like collapsing.

Through this arduous journey of self-discovery, therapy, medical treatments, and the support of my loved ones, I began to rebuild the foundation of my life. Slowly, I regained control over my depression, anxiety, and addiction. I realized that my separation need not define the rest of my life but merely served as a catalyst for personal growth and transformation.

So, dear friend, I implore you to find solace in the fact that your journey is not over. Every day marks a new beginning - a chance to rewrite your story, to reclaim what was lost, and to rebuild a stronger version of yourself. While the forces that oppose us may be overwhelming, it is through resilience and unwavering determination that we can overcome them.

I, too, share your desire to reunite with my family. The pain of separation leaves an indelible mark, but it is not insurmountable. Reach out to your loved ones with the newfound strength and hope that resides within you. Show them the progress you have made, the person you are becoming, and remind them of the love that still burns within your heart. While the journey may be long and challenging, the destination is worth every effort.

In closing, let me assure you that you are not alone. Life has its way of guiding us towards opportunities for growth, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges. Embrace the pain, confront it head-on, and channel it into personal growth. You are stronger than you know, capable of enduring and overcoming even the darkest of times.

May this letter serve as a beacon of hope, reminding you of the strength and determination that resides within you. You are worthy of love, healing, and happiness. Remember that you are not defined by your past but rather the resilience that will forge your future. I wish you all the strength and courage on your journey towards reclaiming the life you deserve.

With love,

Christopher Wilt

[missslytherinbitch]

I remember when I first got diagnosed with ARFID and I'd have to like tell my friends about it.

It was the first time in my life that I got to openly talk about having an ED (after having silently struggled with anorexia nervosa for years), it was the first time I got to say it out loud, fighting the urge to make up excuses or dodge questions about my diet and the foods I avoid. And a huge contributor to this advancement for me was DBT and the amazing support I constantly get from my therapist, but also just my friends. I had never in my life imagined myself saying "Hey btw I have an eating disorder" and not being utterly embarrassed or shamed for it.

And for me, and my friends, it kinda opened a door in a way. They got to ask questions that they'd been too ashamed to ask, and I got to debunk a bunch of misconceptions they had about EDs and people who have them.

And it's funny now, but it wasn't at back then, that the very first thing they'd say when I told them about my ED was "Oh, but you don't look like someone with an ED". It was infuriating because what does that even mean? I'm not gonna lie it made me sick to think that my own friends would say something like that. And then another friend pointed out something that never occurred to me before: I had adapted too well, masking my symptoms and being so well at hiding that these people who knew me and loved me couldn't imagine me in that situation.

Firstly, because I am known by them as a nourisher, I literally feed people, that's my thing. I love cooking and baking; making food is my love language, so I can imagine it must be strange to learn that I can't actually eat most of it. Even at my lowest low when suffering from severe food restriction and being underweight and starved I'd find most of my joy in cooking for my friends and watching them enjoy the food I couldn't. But I had become so good at hiding this thing because I felt so ashamed and scared, that nobody around me knew it was even possible for me to be struggling like that.

My first step into recovery wasn't forcing myself to eat the foods that I couldn't eat, it wasn't exposure therapy or DBT. My first step was acknowledging I have an ED, looking directly at it and admitting it's there, speaking its name, and talking about the symptoms and how they affect me.

I made my friends cry explaining how hard it is for me to wake up everyday very hungry and not have a single food I'd put in my mouth because I feel like it will make me sick. And it's so important because until that very moment I had been doubting myself, my symptoms, gaslighting myself into thinking that I was just making it up, which is why it was so hard to talk about and so easy to hide.

So if you're struggling with ARFID or any ED honestly YOUR SYMPTOMS ARE REAL, YOUR PAIN IS REAL, YOUR STRUGGLE IS VERY REAL, YOU ARE ALLOWED TO TALK ABOUT IT AND YOU DESERVE TO BE HEARD AND UNDERSTOOD.

[icaruskeyartist]

Advice on how to pick out a knee brace would be appreciated, thank you! I want to see a doctor about the issue once I'm able to, but I have to call and talk to someone through work about my insurance and how to access those benefits, and I've been putting it off for no real reason. But in the meantime, know how to figure out what kind of brace will address the kind of pain I have will help and be appreciated.

Also I think that person who replied to my previous anon ask misunderstood; I don't mean that canes are only for mobility or that they're virtue signaling or that I'm resisting getting one, it's just a lower priority for me because *my specific needs* means that it would hinder my mobility more than help it, so I'm putting it as a lower priority than, for example, a camp chair that I stuff into a carry case and toss over my shoulder and use in places with no seating, which *would* be useful to me. I have limited funds so I have to consider my specific needs and the best ways to meet them.

Luke is just someone who is good for mobility device aids and it's a pretty common thing to hear how one might not "deserve" to use something like a cane, so he probably just misunderstood and wants to encourage people to try things out that may not "fit" with whatever disability you have.

I'm not autistic, but a lot of autism advice is very helpful, you know?

Here's what B has to say about braces:

For myself, I didn't go to any specialty store (because I am cheap and also not an expert), so it was just the CVS aisle. The general issue with walking on my knee is that it sort of. Rolls in its socket, so aside from chronic pain, there are times I step down on it and it rolls and my leg gives out. CVS has sleeves, wraps, and braces. If you've had a knee injury, you're going to want to find a knee brace rather than a sleeve or a wrap just for the support.

Sleeves are good for preventing injury and recovery, wraps are more for when you're going to be placing a lot of weight on your joints, so. Those two down. I have a compression sleeve that is quite comfortable, and it does help when my knee is already hurting and I'm idle. If I'm moving about, it doesn't do enough. So the knee brace.

I believe I specifically got the Futuro Sport Performance Support brace, which isn't expensive, and generally what it does is distribute the weight more evenly across your knee so the damaged sections don't take as much. The one I got has some compression in it, which helps my knee not roll around as much.

Sometimes I can feel it try, but I can say that with the brace on, I upped my ability to stand/walk without starting to limp from about 2-3 hours to like. 8-9, and it did a good amount of wonder for the shooting pain when I tried to climb stairs. Which. I think the most important takeaway from my personal experience is if you've genuinely injured your knee, don't get the compression sleeve or wrap only, get the actual support because it makes a difference.

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 17

So, as promised, part 17 is her.

Be prepared to submerge our bird boy with hugs, he will need them.

I promise the chapter will end in fluff and in a good note. The angst is only for the beginning. I need to douse it a bit since from ch 19 onwards the angst gremlin will be back with a vengeance.

I hope you will love it.

A big hug to all the people who commented, reblogged or loved this fic. Thanks to all of you.

A week had gone by and Aelin and Rowan had taken the official decision to try and go back and both deal with the mess of their lives. 

The week had been perfect. Rowan had taken her hillwalking everyday and slowly she had started to feel like herself again. His presence had helped immensely. In a very short time he had become her rock. Full recovery was still a long way ahead but she felt better and with him at her side she had no more panic attacks or nightmares. 

She felt sad at the idea of leaving the cottage in the mountains but they had promised to go back for some special occasion.

*

It was morning and Rowan was getting ready to go back to work. They had set a date for the inquiry on his student’s death and that would be the day.

For once Aelin was the one worried one. She could not forget his reaction to the movie or the night he came back drunk after Fuzzy’s death. She knew he had put up a wall but hoped he would at least let her in. 

“What are you going to do?” He asked her while adjusting his tie.

“I have a meeting with Dorian and the counsellor and then I will pop in at the station and say hi to the squad and apologise.”

“Good.” His tone was detached and she moved a step to him and hugged his waist from behind “are you okay?”

He sighed “nervous. This will mean revive the entire accident over and over again.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

He shook his head and kissed her “thanks for the offer but I will be fine. My squadron will be there and you have an important meeting as well.”

“Ok,” she wanted to believe him, but could not ignore his cold detached tone and Aelin had learned that it was his coping mechanism. He was not okay.

-

Rowan arrived at the airforce HQ and was met by Lorcan.

“Sir,” he stood to attention.

“At ease captain,” Rowan stood down from attention and placed his hands behind his back in a at rest pose “I am sorry it’s so quick. I knew you were coming back yesterday and I did manage to hold on until today.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Are you sure you are ready?” And for once Rowan heard concern in his CO’s voice “this is going to be brutal.”

“I know.”

“I am on the board too and we have Captain Walker from the 24th squadron and Captain Matthews from the 31st and two engineers. They have all copies of the inquiry sent to the board.”

“Who is the president?”

“Marshal Clark.” Said Lorcan in a preoccupied tone.

“Fuck. The man hates me with a vengeance.”

Rowan sighed again and sat on the bench just outside of the room used for the meeting.

His squad arrived a moment later and they patted each other’s back in support.

“We are all here.” Gavriel told him taking a seat at his side.

“Thanks everyone.”

One of the assistants appeared on the door and announced the board was ready to convene. Rowan quickly texted Aelin and switched off his mobile.

The marshal, being the president, was in the centre of the seating area. Rowan went to greet the other two captains with whom he got along nicely and had known for a long time. Then he went to the marshal and saluted as expected “at ease captain.”

Rowan went to his assigned seat and flipped through the folder in front of him. It contained all the documents they needed. His report of the accident, the reports from the engineering team and other supporting evidence.

Marshal Clark called everyone to attention and declared the board in session. He then proceeded to explain to the members the accident that had happened.

One of the engineers who had performed checks after the aircraft had been recovered was asked to present his findings “after the analysis of the recovered aircraft and after having studied the dynamics of the accident we have found out that the main cause for the engine failure was a disruption in the airflow in the port intake causing it to stall with enough yaw rate to induce a flat spin. Cadet Williamson, according to the records of the accident, flew in the jet wash of one of his classmate’s aircrafts. That caused the airflow disruption. The stall was unrecoverable.” explained the engineer reading from his report “with regard to the canopy, we have found a fault in some model of jets used by the students where the charges did not operate correctly, causing the canopy to separate incorrectly. All those planes are grounded and now being checked.”

“Thank you.” Said the marshal, then his gaze turned to Rowan “Captain Whitethorn, stand please.”

Rowan did so.

“Could you please re tell the board the events that lead to the death of the cadet?”

Rowan took a deep breath and retold step by step what happened. It was still vivid in his mind that it would take ages before he could forget it.

“Did you tell the cadet to eject?”

“I did, sir.”

“Why?” Asked the marshal with inquisitive tone.

“He had lost control of the aircraft. From the black box retrieved from his jet he had pulled 9g after he started spiralling. From my position I could see that he was about to pass out. Ejecting the seat had been the safest option. Little did I know that the canopy would fail.”

The two other captains nodded in agreement, knowing full well that they would have suggested the same thing.

“Would the cadet have survived if he had more high G training?”

“Sir,” Rowan almost growled at his superior “his jet was under 9g for almost ten seconds before crashing in the water. Not even an experienced and highly trained pilot can sustain or survive that.” He breathed again “and you know better than me that centrifuge training can be done only with some weekly limits due to its dangers.”

“Had the cadets received basic procedures on how to properly eject and when?”

“Yes, sir. It’s one of the first things they are taught. They are shown how to properly deploy their parachute and how to blow the canopy. Training is also done in different conditions to simulate possible combat scenery.”

“Training was not the issue here,” said Lorcan going in Rowan’s support “Captain Whitethorn is one of our most experienced instructors and hundreds of students have survived his crushing training and are still alive today because of what he has taught them.”

“The post mortem also backed the cause of death in the crash of the body against the canopy.” Added captain Matthews.

“What kind of training were you doing that day?” The marshal continued, ignoring the protests.

“We were going through some basic dogfight routines. The cadets were only five months out of the academy so we were just covering the basics as per fighter school curriculum.” Answered Rowan who felt lost all of a sudden.

“Would the manoeuvre you had practiced put the boy in a position to be in another jet’s wake? Didn’t you teach them how to stay away from the jet wash of another aircraft during a dogfight?” The marshal had an agenda, that was very clear to Rowan. He was trying to blame this on him.

Captain Walker stood angrily “why are we attacking captain Whitethorn? The problem was that the engine stalled due to the jet wash from another aircraft. An experienced fighter might have been able to find a way out of such deadly spiral, the gods know I have found myself in that situation and got out of it by pure damn luck. Not a cadet five months out of the academy. It’s our job to teach them such manoeuvres but only after they have mastered the basics.” He sat down again nodding at Rowan.

“A good instructor would have taught his students how to fly in close formation and to avoid the wake of a team mate. A captain should know what such manoeuvre could cause.” Continued the marshal who had taken the fight to Rowan.

Lorcan stood angrily “That is enough.” He shouted.

“I would suggest you to sit down, Air commodore.”

“Not when you accuse my best instructor of being the cause of the death of a student.”

“It is my job as president of this board to try and figure out what happened.”

“I told two of my students they were too close. I advised another one not to drop below hard deck. I care about the safety of my students.” Rowan almost growled at the marshal “also, I stand by my decision to order cadet Williamson to eject. Had the canopy worked he’d be alive now.”

The marshal nodded and with a bored expression he then went back to the engineering team and they discussed the canopy issue.

Rowan let them talk and his brain disconnected completely and tried to ignore the pain from what had just transpired.

He sat in silence listening to the rest of the board discuss in the background. 

The marshal eventually called the board to attention “Following the evidence provided by the engineering team and the testimony of captain Whitethorn I declare that the death of cadet Williamson was caused by the port engine stall due to airflow disruption in the intake. The commission also noted that the flat spin in which the cadet went in was not recoverable. Captain Whitethorn is cleared of any faults.” Rowan noticed the disappointment on the man’s face for the fact the had been cleared of any faults.

The marshal then turned to Lorcan “Commodore, I expect you to keep the students grounded until the training jets have been fixed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The board is dismissed.” Clark stood and walked out.

The other two captain went to Rowan “I had no idea the bastard would try to blame you for this.”captain Matthews added with fury.

“I would have told my students to eject as well. It was the only option.” Added captain Walker.

But Rowan was not listening. It hurt too much, knowing that someone had tried to blame the death of his student on him. That the marshal had to question all of his choices and possibly his training methods.

Lorcan and his squadron were at his side as soon as the room was clear.

“The arsehole has some guts.” Commented Fenrys but Gavriel elbowed him.

Rowan stood in a daze and left the room ignoring the voices of his team calling him.

*

Aelin’s meeting with Dorian and the counsellor had gone better than she expected. Thanks to Rowan she had been able to open up and talk to them about what happened and how she had been before her escape and what had prompted her to flee. She admitted to them her fears.

She felt much better but she had confessed that she did not feel ready to go back in action. She felt okay about going back to the station and work from the office but was not ready yet to be in a fire. She was still too scared for that and Dorian and the counsellor accepted her admission.

So they had agreed for a transition period. Aelin was told as well to attend weekly sessions with the counsellor to track her progress and her mental health recovery. She would be on desk duty for a while and after that, Dorian was willing to send her back out but just at his side in a fire emergency allowing her again to be close to the fire scene and if that went well they could work on a plan on sending her back in. 

She had agreed with the final decision and had left the room with a smile and a light heart. She stopped in the corridor to check her phone but no news from Rowan. The meeting should be over by now. She hoped he was okay.

Happily she drove back to her squad and everyone was eager to catch up with her. Then Aedion stopped in front of her “never again,” he told her and Aelin went for a hug. He remained stiff for a moment, then his arms enveloped her in a bear hug “looks like your captain fixed you up nicely.”

“Hey, I would recover from anything if I had such man looking after me.” Said Ansel and everyone laughed.

“He has been nice to me.” But all she could think was his face from that morning.

 *

Rowan had been walking without a direction for a while now. He felt as if he had lost his rudder, he had spent the last twelve years of his life working for people who had been ready to blame on him the death of a student. He looked at his uniform and for the first time since he had worn it he felt no pride in it. He had been so tempted to resign his wings on the spot. No matter that he had been cleared, it stung so much, even if it had been the opinion of one man.

It had been too much. He knew the marshal was never a fan of his. The first student he had lost had been his son. But at the time as well the board had declared it had not been his fault. It had been the pilot’s mistake. The marshal never forgave him. Seeing him again at a board for a student’s death he had probably tried to punish him for what happened to his son.

In the distance he spotted a pub and decided that a drink might help. He got in and sat at the counter and ordered a whisky, but once the drink was in front of him he could not drink it. In his current state he would spiral down again to the same level of self destruction of many years before when he lost the marshal’s son and he could not do that again. He could not put Aelin through that pain.

So he did the only sensible thing. He called her.

Aelin was in the common room with the squad and they were having fun and the guys were telling her about some of the calls they had and then they were teasing Luca and his upcoming exam.

She was about to tell them to stop picking on him when her phone went off. It was Rowan and her heart stopped. 

She quickly left the room and went outside, sitting on the bumper of one of the engines “hey,”

“Hi,” his voice was low and flat and she feared for him.

“What’s wrong.”

Silence.

“Ro, are you okay?”

“No.”

Shit. She stood and started pacing “where are you?”

“At a pub.”

“Which one.”

He told her the name.

“I am coming. Just stay there.” And closed the conversation and almost laughed at the irony of the situation. A week before she had been at the receiving end of such conversation.

She ran back to the squad “guys, I need to go. Rowan. It’s not good. I just have to go…”

She didn’t even wait for an answer. She just rushed back to her car and drove to him. He did not sound drunk so maybe it was not all lost.

She arrived at pub not long after and stormed in. Rowan was sitting at the counter staring at a glass of whisky in front of him.

“Ro.” She walked to him and his green eyes fell on her. There was pain in them, so much pain.

“You are not drunk,” she told him.

“He ordered the whisky two hours ago and had been staring at it ever since.” Said the bartender.

“Hey,” she caressed his head and he closed his eyes at the touch “what happened?”

He shook his head “not here.” He stood and Aelin followed then came back and chugged down the abandoned whisky and went after him.

He was walking away and she ran after him “wait, you have long legs, damn you.” He extended an arm behind him and Aelin grabbed his hand “fine, we are outside, spill the beans.”

She definitely had no tact.

He walked silently a bit longer until they reached a small park and he sat down on a bench and Aelin took a spot at his side never letting his hand go.

And then he told her. Everything that had happened in the room. The results of the inquiry, the marshal’s accusations. The identity of the first student he had lost and his desire to quit.

“I wanted to throw my wings in the marshal’s face.” He looked down dejected “I feel lost now. I want to go back to my students, I owe it to them, to teach them how to be safe. But everything else… I don’t care about it anymore.” his head leaned against her shoulder and Aelin brushed his head with her hand and kissed it tenderly “Ro, how can I help you?”

Rowan turned his head to her and she thought his eyes were wet with tears “what you are doing just now is enough. Having you with me helps.”

“Do you need to go back to the airbase now?”

Rowan nodded sadly.

“Ok, I’ll drive you.” Aelin stood and Rowan followed but before moving he pulled her to him and drew her in for a kiss “I love you.” He said quietly.

She flicked his nose “let’s go.” She offered him her hand and together they walked back to her car.

They arrived at the airbase not long after “do you need me to come in?”

Rowan shook his head “my team is there. I will be fine. Gav will stop me from doing anything stupid.”

“Good. I am going back to the station.” She leaned forward to kiss him “Will you be okay? I am worried about you.”

“I am a big boy.” He joked.

“Ro…”

He leaned forward and kissed her “I do love so much when you call me Ro like that…”

Aelin smiled against his lips “don’t do anything stupid and tomorrow you can ravish me all you want. You can even be super creative.”

“How can I refuse such proposal?” He kissed her again “I will be fine.” His hand went to the door handle and opened the door “I will see you tomorrow morning at home. Have a nice night shift.”

Aelin’s heart swelled with joy at the word home. Their place. They hadn’t made it official but her house had become home. Their home. And she loved the feeling of it.

“Think creative, captain.”

He winked at her and left the car. Then he waved at her and Aelin left, he put his cap on his head and headed back inside the airbase.

-

Rowan made his way to Lorcan’s office and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” came from inside.

Rowan entered the room and Lorcan looked up at him and he did notice the expression of disbelief in his CO’s face.

“Rowan —” but the other man stopped him.

“Thank you for today. For the support.” Rowan said quietly sitting on the chair in front of his CO.

“The man was out of line.” Lorcan growled “he knows what kind of instructor you are. How strict you are. The man was trying to get you sacked as a punishment for his son’s death knowing full well that again it was not your fucking fault.”

Rowan looked away, shutting away the painful memories.

“I already sent orders to start working on the canopies and check them all.”

Rowan nodded silently.

“I know what we can do to cheer you up.” Rowan turned his head staring at a surprisingly cheery Lorcan. Elide was really doing miracles.

“Grab you gear and let’s get out in the air, this man here needs to fly. It’s been so long that it’s a miracle I can still be called a pilot.” And he chuckled.

Rowan stood “Fine, be ready to be crushed.”

Lorcan grinned and stood as well “Oh, I submitted a proposal to allow women to serve in the airforce.”

Rowan’s head whipped to one side “who are you and what have you done with Lorcan Salvaterre?”

“The captain and Elide. Turns out we have both chosen very strong women.”

“I like that.”

“Me too.”

Rowan was doing his pre-flight checks when he noticed Lorcan joining him. The man had always exuded charisma.

“You should really send Elide a picture of you in a jump suit. I know how much Aelin likes it, I guess Elide might appreciate it too.”

Lorcan lifted an eyebrow while he reached his jet and popped open the canopy “you think?”

Rowan nodded “how is it going with her by the way?”

“She is incredible. She is tiny but fierce and stubborn and quite amazing.”

Rowan could not believe it, Lorcan was in awe of someone a feat that he thought was impossible.

“You are in love with her.”

“I think so.” said Lorcan hiding the words in a cough, almost embarrassed by his admission.

“Good.” Then he stared at Lorcan and he realised that going out out for a flight had been a good idea. They were evenly matched in skill and it was going to be a fun one. They had a few turbulent months but he had more or less always got along with him. Flying together again felt like the good old times.

“You missed a spot.” Rowan pointed at one section under the wing. 

Lorcan replied with a middle finger and it felt nice to have their old banter back when Lorcan could finally put aside his CO mask for a while.

“I am not a cadet, I know how to do my pre flight checks.”

“Well, you are not following the order we were taught at flight school, cadet Salvaterre.”

“Stop being a smartass, cadet Whitethorn.”

Rowan climbed in his jet and finished his checks inside and communicated with the tower to finalise the flight plan and get the authorisations required.

“Come on Lorcan, you are so slow. Tower gave us the all clear and the flight plan is in. Are you sure you still remember how to fly? Do you need any pointers, Chaos?”

Chaos was Lorcan’s callsign and he had earned it very early in his career for his flying skills.

Eventually they were both ready and the two jets got taxied away and not long after they were in the air.

“Rules of engagement: anything is allowed and two out of three?”

“Copy that, Iceman.”

“Good, be ready to lose.”

The two jets broke apart and went in different directions and for a while they just ran in circles above the airbase to study each other.

Lorcan hadn’t wanted to admit that he was a bit rusty and Rowan was indeed a nasty customer. 

Gavriel and the three young pilots were walking along one of the long corridors on the airbase when they heard the sound of jets in the air and ran to the next window to look who it was. The classes for the cadets were still grounded and the three of them were on ground.

“Holy fuck,” muttered Gavriel when he realised who was out flying.

He ran out to the viewing tower followed by the twins and Vaughan.

“Is that who I think it is?” Asked Connall speechless.

“Rowan and Lorcan.” The older man turned to the three young guys “you are in for a treat, they can make you feel like a newbie.”

Gavriel saw Rowan pull in a vertical and flying into the sun, roll on his back and continue in  straight line flying just a meter above Lorcan, finally flipped his jet once again and placed himself at Lorcan’s six.

Lorcan tried some evasive manoeuvres but Rowan did not let go, always at his tail attempting to get a lock on his CO.

Lorcan felt trapped and as a last ditch he went into a high G barrel roll to try and shake off Rowan.

“Rowan is going to overshoot,” said Connall who was silently watching the dogfight between their superiors.

Then Rowan pulled a trick out of the hat and kept his jet in line with Lorcan’s then rolled and found himself upside down and fired at the other man.

“Holy fuck,” was Fenrys’ comment at the scene.

“What did just happen? How did he even manage that?” Added Vaughan.

“That is Rowan for you. Now you realise why we can’t ever win?”

“One nil for me, Chaos.”

“You are a sneaky bastard, Whitethorn. And where did you learn such manoeuvres?”

Rowan laughed over the comms “get your act together, Commodore, and you can probably get me.”

The dogfight between the two went on for much longer. Lorcan did manage to win an engagement but Rowan still won 2-1. They landed back and they found Rowan’s team waiting for them.

“Good to see you two flying again. The youngsters never had the chance to see the pros at work.” Said Gavriel relieved that the two men seemed again at ease with each other.

“Oh, yeah. Our dear CO was a bit rusty and I took him out to stretch his legs and I handed out his arse to him twice.”

Lorcan gave him the middle finger in response.

*

Elide was in the ambulance doing some inventory checks when her phone pinged. She opened the text from Lorcan and almost fainted on the spot. It was Lorcan in his jump suit beside his jet and the man actually had a hint of a smile on his face. The second image was of him and Rowan standing back to back, their arms folded at their chest and both had a goofy smile on.

She jumped off the ambulance and ran to Aelin who was in the equipment room checking out their gear “Ace, look!” She shouted as she stormed in.

“What?” And she looked at the two pictures on Elide’s phone.

“Interesting…” Aelin stared with curiosity at the picture of the two men.

“He is soooo hot, I have never seen him in a jump suit and gods I don’t know? Want to remove it one bit at a time?”

Aelin laughed “that’s what I would do to Rowan right now if we were together in a private place. I would peel that jump suit off him until he is naked in front of me.”

She saw Elide blush “Lorcan and I haven’t… passed the kissing stage yet. He has never touched me. He is very considerate of me. But a few times he hugged me and I… felt him.” And she made a gesture and Aelin understood.

“Elide that is normal. How do you feel about the next stage? Like exploring each other’s bodies?”

“As in naked?”

“Yes, but you can start with keeping your underwear to have a barrier on if it makes you feel better.”

Elide sat on the bench beside her “I don’t know how to do this. How do I touch him?”

Aelin could see panic rise in the woman “ask him to show you and then once you feel brave enough to try just give it a go. It can be quite fun.” Aelin stopped for a second trying to find a way to tackle the next issue “Elide, have you ever… you know… explored your body? Down there?”

Elide blushed savagely “no.”

Aelin took the woman’s hand “take a nice warm bath and then…” Aelin wiggled her fingers “just put a hand between your legs and see how it goes, what you feel.”

“Oh.”

“At least once you two take the next step you have an idea of how it feels.”

“And Lorcan does that as well?”

Aelin nodded “yes, and if the man is as good as the others claim he might leave you a satisfied mess just with his fingers or mouth or both. A sort of appetiser before the main course.”

“Do you and Rowan…?”

Aelin nodded “and not just him to me but me to him as well.”

“This sounds so much.”

“Elide, look at me.” Aelin placed her hands on the woman’s shoulder “you do not have to take the next step until you are okay with it. Talk with Lorcan. Explain to him that you are getting curious and want to try more. You can use a safe word so that when you start to become uncomfortable, you shout that word and he has to stop.”

“Oh.”

“He hasn’t rushed you or anything?”

Elide shook her head “no, he has been so understanding, and never pushed.”

“Good. You set the pace. You are the one who needs time so he adjusts to you, remember. But if you feel like you are ready for another step just tell him.”

“Is it… is it as good as everyone says? Is it worth it?”

Aelin nodded “with the right person is something incredible. The intimacy… the connection…”

“Do you have that with your captain?”

“Yeah, and some.”

“Uhhh… are we getting serious?”

Aelin looked away for a moment “I loved Sam. A lot. We were good together but it was never like this. Never this deep.” She threw her head against one of the jackets “I don’t know how to explain it but my feelings for Rowan are so strong that sometimes I feel like I can’t breath.”

“I want that too.”

A moment later the conversation was interrupted by Lysandra entering the room “Here you are, why are you hiding?”

Elide showed Lys Lorcan’s picture.

“Oh mama…”

“Elide is feeling… curious.”

Lysandra hugged the woman “that is wonderful, darling. With such a specimen I’d be curious too.”

“Lys.” Shouted Aelin laughing.

“What? Fine the man can be an arsehole but I can’t deny that in that picture he is one hot bastard.”

“Show her the other.”

Elide showed Lysandra the picture with both Rowan and Lorcan.

“Ok, I really need a cold shower now.”

“I am pretty sure Aedion is available. Just keep it quiet.”

Lysandra laughed “don’t you think I tried? He said it would be against the rules.”

“I am almost done with equipment checks. This room will be free soon.”

“You are a wicked woman.” 

Aelin winked.

“Did you do it in here with the captain?”

“No, but his office is quite comfortable.”

“Nice.” Commented Lysandra.

Lys then took Elide’s hand “come on, we got a couple of things to finish.”

Once the two ladies left she phoned Rowan and he picked up at the first ring.

“I am jealous, Lorcan sent a picture of the two of you to Elide and I don’t get a copy?”

“You liked that?”

“You were both smiling.”

“We talked,” added Rowan “Lorcan was even more pissed than me. I think Elide did the miracle.”

Aelin laughed and relaxed at his admission “how so?

“He chuckled. Lorcan chuckled.”

She heard mirth in his voice.

“And the man is totally in love with Elide. I swear I never heard the man talk like that about a woman.”

“Interesting.”

“Also, apparently he has decided to support my idea of having women in the airforce and submitted a proposal to the higher ups and he is prepared to fight for it.” He told her, knowing she would love the news.

“Ok, I might finally start to like the man. What changed?”

“You and Elide apparently.”

Aelin smiled smugly “so he does listen, I am impressed. I don’t think I can cope with the idea of Lorcan not being the bad guy.”

“His job is very stressful and I don’t think I could be able to cope with the amount of shit he has to deal with.” He sighed “put me in a cockpit surrounded by enemies and I will be fine. But the idea of being stuck behind a desk playing the political game day in day out…. no. I will retire before it happens.” He added sadly.

“So, what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day, captain?”

“I am helping him with a few things. Then do more prep work for our performance review.”

“Do you think you are ready for that?”

She heard a lot of noise in the background and she guessed he was back in the hangar.

“Aye, we are good to go.” He was silent for a moment “I have to go, Fireheart.”

“Sure. Be safe and have a nice drill.”

“I love you. Have a nice night shift.”

“Send me that picture, Whitethorn.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She closed the conversation and relaxed heavily. Rowan sounded so much better and she was smidge less worried. With a big smile she went back to her work.

*

It was past 9pm and Aelin was in her office working away on some paperwork Dorian had sent over. She had a good day. It had felt good being back and she realised that Rowan’s help and their time away had helped very much. She felt saner and being at the station did not cause any problems. She was not ready yet to go back fighting fires, of that she was well aware. That was the last challenge she had to face but she and Aedion had discussed a training regimen that would slowly allow her to find the courage again to go fully back on duty and she felt excited at the idea.

She had been so engrossed in her work she did not hear the knock on the door. When it happened a second time she slowly raised her head “come in.” She said flatly and almost annoyed. 

A head of silver hair appeared on the door and she stopped “am I interrupting?”

“Of course captain. How dare you?”

He smiled and took a step in “I can go if you are working.”

Aelin rolled her eyes “get your arse inside and give me fifteen minutes of silence.”

He nodded and walked to her bookcase, giving her his back. His hand behind his back, his spine ramrod straight and his feet slightly apart in a perfect at ease position. She grinned. You could take the man out of the military but not the military out of the man.

She stopped working and rested her chin on her hands and a pen in her mouth. She studied him from behind and was impressed how still he could stay. A feat that had alway been impossible to her. 

Rowan grabbed one of her manuals and started flipping through it. It was only fair, she had done the same to his flight manuals. 

“A chemistry book?”

She eventually decided to stand and join him at his side.

“I hated chemistry in school. I was good at it but never liked it. I preferred physics.”

Aelin smiled and grabbed another book: fire science “this one might be more interesting.”

He had a look through it and smiled at her “can I take it at home or do you need it here?”

“You can take it home.”

Rowan smiled and placed the book on the sofa then cupped her face “hi, by the way.” And he kissed her.

“About time. I thought you were more interested in my books than me.” She teased him, pulling away briefly.

“You told me to stay silent for fifteen minutes. I was just following orders.”

“Screw that.”Aelin switched off her computer and walked to him, palm upturned, offering him her hand “follow me captain.”

“Do I need to be scared?”

She glared at him.

They walked along the corridor of the fire station and it was so silent and quiet compared to what he had seen during the day “where is everyone?”

“Resting. We got beds, you know? But Brullo and Ress are probably up watching tv as usual.”

They walked through the common area and as Aelin suspected the two guys were watching some  series on tv.

“Hi guys,” she greeted them.

They raised their heads “hi boss,” then noticed Rowan “oh captain, you found her. Good.”

“When I walked in I announced myself. I could not just waltz in.”

“Come on,” she grabbed his hand. Aelin dragged Rowan to the area where they kept the fire engine and the truck. She moved to the engine and opened a door on the side and pulled out two thick blankets then with them under her armpit, she started climbing the ladder at the end of the rig “Come on captain.”

Rowan looked at her puzzled.“Where are you going?”

He saw her rolling her eyes “on top of the rig.”

“If the alarm—”

“Captain, if the alarm goes off we have enough seconds to get our arses back down. They will not drive away with us on top of the rig. Do you trust me?”

He looked at her in a strange way.

Aelin threw the blankets on the top of the engine and climbed back down and marched to him, grabbing his hand “move.”

With force she dragged him to the ladder and prompted him to climb. He did as ordered and once at the top he stopped. Aelin stopped behind him, then in a swift motion she pulled her leg over the engine rail and climbed on its roof.

She took the blankets and placed them on top of all the hoses “it smells a bit of smoke. You’ll get used to it.”

He climbed over and stood for a second admiring the view from on top of the engine. When he turned he saw Aelin laying down on the blankets, her arms extended to him and a goofy smile on her face. He joined her and took a place at her side.

She nested against his chest and his arms looped around her frame.

“I come up here a lot on a night shift. I don’t sleep, I just relax, I love to imagine I am laying on the grass and that if I look up I can see the stars.”

“I do that when I am on an aircraft carrier and I am not on standby. I just walk on the deck along the rail, although is not as quiet as here as there are still flights happening, but it’s less busy. I just lean against the handrail, near the island and look out at the sea and I my case I can see the stars.”

Aelin turned in his arms and faced him “can you navigate by just using the stars?”

“We don’t use it much, GPS is a very handy tool, but it’s a skill we learn in case something fails and you are left with no GPS or any other electronic help.”

“What about you? Had a good day at the station?” He kissed the top of her head.

Aelin nodded eagerly “yes, I admitted I had a problem out loud and both Dorian and Aedion have offered to help in anyway they can.” She looked up at him “and you… you helped so much… and still helping…”

He smiled tenderly “it goes under my job description for boyfriend, I assume?”

She caressed his face loving the sound of him calling himself her boyfriend.

“Say it again,” she whispered to him.

“What?”

“That you are my boyfriend.”

He went for a deep kiss “I am yours.”

Aelin smiled against his lips “those are powerful words, captain.”

“They are true, though.”

Aelin’s heart raced and her hand went to his chest and found his doing exactly the same.

“I love this. Us. I really do…” she stuck her head in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent “but it still scares me because it happened so fast. One day I wanted to punch you, the next I wanted to kiss you. And it frightens me. I want this to work. I want us to work out.”

His hand covered hers still on his chest “you are not alone. This is a lot for me as well. But I am done fighting my feelings.” He hugged her closer “I love you, even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”

Aelin kissed his chest “you are so cheesy it’s disgusting.”

Rowan pushed her away and she rolled on her back at his side, her hand still in his “I was trying to be romantic and you ruined the moment.”

She smiled “sorry, I used to do that with Sam all the time. He would say something super romantic and I would respond with a joke. When he proposed I replied that I had to check with my lawyer first.”

“You are a brat.”

“It was so funny. Then I texted him and said that my lawyer had agreed.” Aelin brought their twinned hands to her mouth and kissed them “I showed him later on that night in bed how much I wanted to marry him. He did not complain.”

“You really are a handful.”

“I know, but now you picked me and there is no turning back.” She said against their hands fearing she had gone too far.

“I love a good challenge.” He rolled over and was now half on top of her, his hand on her side caressing her gently.

Aelin grabbed his face in her free hands and kissed him stupid but Rowan pulled back when he remembered where they were. He was still terrified they would drive away with the two of them on top of the engine.

He lay back down and his hand started trailing along her injured arm exposed by the short sleeved shirt. The burns had healed but the skin remained marred. He traced the length of it and leaned over to kiss it.

“Does it bother you?”

“No,” he said softly while continuing to kiss her injured arm and her scars “you are my brave and fierce Fireheart. It scares me that I almost lost you. But you scars…” another gentle kiss “they don’t bother me.”

She snuggled closer and he enveloped her in his arms.

“I forgot.” He propped himself up on one elbow “I have received an invitation.”

“Oh?” Aelin did the same and faced him.

“This weekend the navy is throwing a launch party for the new aircraft carrier, down at the dockyards before she is set at sea for the trials and then off to deployment.” He explained “Me and the guys have been invited and I can bring a guest. Fancy being my plus one?”

“Are we going public, captain?”

“If you want to.”

Aelin thought about it “I could wear the stunning black dress I bought in Doranelle.”

Rowan remembered that dress and the effect it had on him when she wore it in the shop.

“Are you trying to give a heart attack to the whole Terrasen military?”

Aelin giggled “just going to show all those posh boys what an amazing taste in women you have.”

“That I do.” He flicked her nose.

Aelin was about to reply when dispatch alarm went off and she bolted on her feet and pulled Rowan up and grabbed the blankets “come on, captain.”

She climbed down super quickly and by the time he made it down, the blankets were back in the truck and the squad was getting ready to go.

“Showing the captain your special spot?” Joked Aedion.

Aelin nodded and patted his shoulder “keep the guys safe and you stay safe too.”

“Always.” Quickly Aedion ran to the truck and a moment later the squad was gone.

“It’s hard to see them go and not being able to be with them.”

He pulled an arm around her shoulder “come, I’ll make you hot chocolate.”

She followed him “that’s exactly how you woo a woman, captain.”

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[loveislattes]

Everything Comes at a Price (Demon!Dark/Fem!Reader) Chapter 2

You can find Chapter 1 here!

Commission prompt: Reader is really depressed, and Dark decides to roughly Fuck the depression out of them.

Important: Reader has female pronouns and is a vagina owner!

Warnings (For this chapter specifically): Depression, talks of death, smut, dom/sub, rough sex, Demon!Dark, demon-like anatomy, shadow tentacles, oral (male receiving), very minor breath play, teasing, pet names, dirty talk, minor degradation, praise kink, unprotected sex, primal/power play, and multiple orgasms!

A/N: Other than the kink warnings, this one is safe to read! No gore/death. No beta- there may be a few errors.

As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!

Tags: (If you want to be tagged in my writing, just let me know!)

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@another-thirsty-blog

@hcrystal02

@just-a-little-bat

“You’re sure? The doctor is sure?” you questioned earnestly.

“Yes! Yes! They say it’s like some kind of miracle. They expect her to make a full recovery after some physical therapy. Isn’t it great, Y/N?!”

You could feel your lips twist up into a bittersweet smile as tears poured from your clenched eyes. The taste of salt was bitter on your lips as you nodded asininely into the phone.

“Yeah, that’s- that’s amazing,” you whispered, “Listen, auntie, I’ve got to get ready for work but please keep me updated if anything changes.”

The phone fell into the fluffy blankets across your lap and you let out the choked sob that you’d been holding back. Wish number four had been a success. You’d done some actual good with your imminent death.

Despite the good news, the oppressive cloud around you didn’t dissipate; Unsurprising but disappointing nonetheless.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you hissed, smacking your cheeks a couple of times.

Suddenly, a terribly wonderfully awful idea popped up and there was a modicum of relief in your chest. You snagged up the coin from its perch on the bedside table and clutched it to your chest close.

“Dark, I think I know my last wish. Is it possible to wish for death?”

There was no immediate answer, nor did you die immediately. A tremor in the atmosphere of the room was the only sign that something had changed and you brought your head up in surprise. The sight of the debonair demon standing amongst your depression room instantly filled you with shame. Great. Just what you needed to be added to your already heaping pile of negative emotions.

“Hello, darling.”

You managed a weak little hello in reply as he began to stroll your way. You weren’t sure whether you should stand up to greet him or just allow him to come to you, but he quickly made that decision for you as he came to a stop at your side.

“I regret to inform you that you’ve managed to find one of the three types of wishes I’m unable to grant. Is there something els-”

“Please, Dark!”

He leveled you with narrowed eyes and stated factually, “I can’t kill you. Killing you negates the contract. That includes putting you in any imminently dangerous situations, so don’t try it.”

Finally, you found the power to stand and glared up at him through tears.

“Can’t you break the rules, just this once?! I give you permission to keep my soul after I die if you do it! I just- I can’t take this anymore! Maybe you don’t understand it because you all Mr. Powerful Demon but I’m so fucking tired. I’m tired of being alone! I’m tired of hurting when there’s literally nothing wrong! I’m tired of not being able to do a damn thing to make it better or change anything or- or-”

You fell into a messy pile of limbs and blankets on the bed, wrapping yourself up as best as possible, sobbing into your hands to keep a modicum of your dignity intact. Much to your surprise, you felt fingers brush against your hair as sharp nails began to massage through your strands.

“I must say, you’re definitely one of my more interesting clients,” he hummed lowly, “Even so, I’m unable to bend the rules, even for you. There’s a lot at play here that you’ll never understand but the short of it is that even I do not play with Death’s dealings, darling.”

As he spoke, you could feel the first peek of daylight glimmering through the shadows of your mind. Whether it was from his odd praise or the sensations his fingers were provoking, you weren’t sure, but it was nice. Ever so slowly, you found yourself leaning into his touch, chasing the dopamine rush he provided.

He let out a humored chuckle as you nearly fell off the bed in the pursuit and you could only manage a subdued apology in reply.

“Don’t apologize for being adorable, pet,” he teased.

Cheeks warming harshly under the sudden pet name, you buried your face in your hands and groaned slightly.

“Now that that’s sorted, I will leave you be. When you’re ready to make your last wish, you know how to reach me.”

There was a strange catch in his voice that you couldn’t quite place but it was enough to put you into action.

“Wait!” you called out when he turned away.

Carefully wiping the tears from your face, you stood up and took a steadying breath before reaching out to him. It was such a simple request but you could see the curiosity and confusion plain on his face. Nonetheless, he took your hand and allowed you to pull him in close. It had been so long since you’d even held someone else’s hand. More of the demons in the back of your mind were backing down, the sudden influx of serotonin of skin-to-skin contact turning them away.

“Okay, I get it, you can’t kill me,” you murmured, licking your lips nervously, “But you said you find me… interesting, right? Erm, do you think you would be able to do something else for me instead?”

It was like you had flipped a switch, the way his eyes clouded over with the devious smirk that curled up his lips and how his head tipped to the side in obvious inquiry.

“I’ll need you to be more clear on what you’re asking for, pretty little pet,” he cajoled, “It would be quite remiss of me to act without being completely sure what you want from me.”

Oh, the asshole! He was going to make you say it out loud! It was obvious in his gaze that he knew he had all the power here, in every sense of the word, and he was using it to his advantage… and you couldn’t deny that you loved it.

Face hot with mortification, you chewed on your lower lip before whispering, “I- I can’t. I can’t ask.”

Fangs peeked out in a grin as he leaned down, tipping your head up until you were nose to nose with him.

“Do you want me to kiss you? Touch you? Fuck you?”

Gods, he made it sound so dirty, so sensual. Shivers rolled through your bones as he teased the apex of your jaw and throat with his sharp claws.

“I need to know.”

You gathered every last drop of confidence and finally stammered out, “Fu-Fuck me, please?”

“With pleasure, darling,” he hummed softly, “But first…”

Fingers tangled in your locks once more, jerking your head back and his mouth slammed against yours. A choked sob passed from your mouth to his as he guided you back onto the bed, following with the grace and ease only an inhuman being could manage.

“If it gets too intense, just tell me to stop,” he breathed out as his lips fell to your jaw, “It’s been some time since I’ve allowed myself to indulge with a human and you are just so damn breakable.”

A sick thrill shot through your body at the warning. Why did a part of you want that? It was terrifying, thinking of a demon losing themselves and going feral on you, and yet it sounded so deliciously taboo.

“Okay,” you finally replied when you realized he was waiting for an answer, “I will.”

“Good girl.”

Oh. OH. It felt like all the air left your lungs and you couldn’t stop the tiny little noise that escaped your lips in embarrassment and desire.

His lips curved up against your throat as they slowly moved. Nibbles and kisses blazed a path up the sensitive column of your neck until teeth toyed with your ear lobe and he let out a little chuckle.

“You are going to be so much fun, pet.”

Your hands found his hair and held on for dear life as his fangs dug into your neck; not deep enough to draw blood but rough enough to tear a pained scream from your lips. Throbbing agony blossomed through your skin and still, you found your body arching into his, silently eager for more of what he could give you. Oh and the endorphin rush! The moment he released your abused flesh, it was like your body was on fire.

Moving without thought, you guided him by the hair into a frantic kiss, hoping to convey your need without words. Thankfully he didn’t seem offended by your little takeover of power and allowed you to soak in all you needed until he finally put a stop to it with a nibble on your lower lip.

“Enough, it’s time to prove that you really want this, darling,” Dark purred as his fingers dug into your cheeks symbolically.

You nodded the best you could and followed his lead as he pulled you to your feet. With a snap of his fingers, suddenly his clothes were gone and you were left staring at him in awe. While he looked incredible in the suit, it did a complete disservice to the glorious form hidden beneath. Black tattooed tendrils encircled his arms and legs, tapering out somewhere on his back, creating the most tantalizing contrast of shades against his toned limbs as he flexed them teasingly.

As your eyes traced the designs down his solid form, he suddenly gripped your shoulders and pushed you down onto your knees, tossing one of your pillows down after.

“If you’re going to worship me in such a way, you might as well do it from in your rightful place on your knees,” he purred.

Lips parting in surprise, you felt your insides curl up with embarrassment as you slipped the pillow under your knees and nearly apologized, but then he was stepping closer and you lost all thought.

Fuck, was he ever right; It was akin to staring up at a god! Not only were you given the best view of his body, but the way he stared down at you with desire and complete superiority had you trembling with need.

“Now, show me what that pretty mouth can do, pet.”

Oh, that, that you could do. Scooting in closer, you reached out to grab his cock but your hand was smacked away instantly. It stung more than hurt but it was surprising nonetheless.

“What-”

“Hands behind your back,” he demanded.

Cautiously, you did as he asked and were rewarded with a much softer smile.

“Good girl.”

Those words again. It was like they had a direct line to your cunt. Clenching needily around nothing, you let out a soft whine and let him pull you back in. As his cock neared your lips, you were finally given the chance to look it over closely. Despite being only half-hard, he appeared average length and a bit thicker than most you’d encountered. It was also darker than the rest of his skin but what set it apart the most was the ridges encircling it. Every inch or so down his cock were these ridges, smooth but creating quite an obvious size difference.

As you pondered over the way it would feel inside you, you let your tongue tentatively trace the tip and moaned at the familiar taste. He let out an encouraging sigh and tightened his hold, subtly pulling you closer until you threw away hesitation and took him in your mouth as far as possible.

“Mmmm, that’s it pet,” he praised huskily, “Get me ready to fuck you.”

Clenching your thighs in hopes of relief, you shifted higher onto your knees and followed the pace he set. Another difference you began to notice was the massive vein on the underside of his cock, the way it throbbed against your tongue with every swipe quickly became an addicting sensation. It was like his body was praising your efforts in its own way.

“Take a breath,” he warned.

You barely got a lungful in before he arched into your face, hastily fighting back the urge to gag as he slid into your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes as saliva pooled in your mouth. You were mortified as both spilled out the instant he began to fuck your mouth. Embarrassing noises escaped your throat, far beyond your control with each thrust of his cock, but it didn’t seem to bother him one bit.

“Look at you,” he rumbled out huskily, “What a good little pet you are, swallowing my cock like you were made for it.”

As suddenly as he had started he stopped, releasing his hold on you so fast you nearly toppled over as you coughed for breath.

“Impressive, now get up here.”

Once you felt you were stable enough, you climbed to your feet with his assistance and were immediately thrown back on the bed. As your skin rubbed against the cool sheets, you were suddenly made aware of your lack of clothes.

He apparently sensed the shock in your expression and offered you a sly grin.

“What can I say, pet? There are some things I am impatient over.”

Dark kneeled on the bed and gripped your ankles, spreading your legs so he could easily fit between them. Rather than climb over you as you had expected, he instead traced gentle lines up and down your legs, slowly bit by bit growing closer and closer to your cunt but never actually touching. It was maddening. You could feel yourself quaking and twitching uncontrollably under every pass of his claws; your silent pleas coming out louder and louder each time until you were nearly sobbing with need. Teeth soon joined in the effort, searing bite marks into the meaty parts of your thighs while his tongue lavished the wounds fondly after.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re dripping wet for me,” he groaned quietly as he traced the crease between your sex and thigh, “Imagine what a mess you’ll be once I’m finally inside you.”

Desperation tore from your chest in the form of a whimper at the mental images burning in your mind. Your heart nearly flipped on itself in pleasure as he finally moved up the bed.

“You look like you’re struggling, darling,” he teased, “Is there something you need?”

You nodded frantically and whimpered out, “Please!”

Tantalizing shocks ran through your core as his fingers oh-so-tenderly ran over your lips, ghosting just where you needed him the most. Frustration began to well up like the sweat beading your forehead and you couldn’t help the huff that escaped.

“Tell me that you need to be used,” he breathed, ghosting sharp canines along your throat, “And I’ll give you what you want.”

“I- I need to be used,” you gasped out.

His responding moan was pure ecstasy as his fingers finally found your clit; the way his cock twitched again your leg an overwhelming aphrodisiac. The scrape of his facial hair prickled against your chest as his head ducked down and his lips pressed chaste kisses along your breasts. Swallowing hard, you bit back the overwhelming urge to demand him for more and were rewarded with the gratifying sensation of his tongue across your nipple. Pain and pleasure coalesced into one as he mercilessly sucked and bit into your flesh, drawing louder and faster moans from your chest by the second. When he finally pulled off with a pop, your entire body felt the bombardment of endorphins.

“And who do you want to use you?”

Pride shone through his playful teasing as you attempted and failed to whimper his name multiple times, ruined over and over again with each pass over your clit.

“Hmm? I can’t seem to understand you. Who do you want to ruin you?”

Thighs shaking and heart pounding, you fought through the onslaught of pleasure coiling in your belly to gasp out, “You, Dark! Please, fuck- fuck me!”

It was too much, not enough: The ache in your throat, the rawness of your lips, the imprints of his teeth burned in your flesh, the throb of your cunt under his fingers.

When he finally slipped his fingers in your core, you cried out. Relief! It didn’t take more than a few seconds for his stretching and thrusting to put you right on the edge of no return. Unfortunately, he jerked away before you could fall and, before you could even complain, you were tossed over onto your stomach with a sharp slap to your right cheek.

“Perk that pretty ass up for me, pet,” he demanded, gently guiding your hips up.

As you came to rest on your knees, you let your face rest on the pillow and arched your back until you could feel his cock brush against your cunt. Instinctively you pushed back against him with a little moan and were immediately rewarded with fingers to your clit.

But… his hands were on your hips…

“How-?”

When you stilled in thought, he let out a husky chuckle behind you.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he crooned lowly, “Sometimes they just have a mind of their own.”

Lifting up just enough to peek under your body, you were both startled and aroused to find black shadow-like tentacles where you expected fingers to be, and in turn, his legs were now free of those pretty tattoos. Realization hit hard and a pathetic moan fled your lips as you buried your face in the pillow.

“Glad to see you approve, darling.”

In the next breath, he slammed forward and yanked you back simultaneously. You were immensely grateful that he had taken the time to prep you as he sunk in, inch by inch, stretching you open like none ever had before. A wicked thrill sent a tremor through your body as you realized you could feel each and every ridge as it pushed into you.

When his hips finally came to a stop against yours, the noise he let out had your hair standing on end. Animalistic, inhuman, primal. You wanted to hear it time and time again.

He finally started rocking his hips, taking his time with deliciously languid strokes, until you begged him for more. It was with a cruel laugh that he gave into your desires.

“Oh fuck!” you whined, fingers snarling in the blankets for balance.

There was no more hesitation in his movements, gentleness abandoned in exchange for all-out fucking you in a way that made your toes curl and tears fill your eyes.

“You are so fucking wet,” he snarled out between breaths, “Taking me so well.”

A noise of agreement escaped your lips as you arched back to meet his thrusts. You couldn’t form words even if you wanted to, too focused on the raging storm brewing in your core.

Pain blossomed through your hip as one of his hands squeezed tighter, his growls and panting growing in volume to rival your cries, while the other found your hair and yanked your head back. Your body reacted instinctively, clenching down hard around him and startling a moan from you both.

“You feel so good! You going to come for me, pet?”

Reaching back, your hand found his and your nails found purchase, returning a sliver of the savage pain he bestowed upon you. All the while you bounced back harder on his cock, chasing the edge that was just out of reach. The tendrils between your thighs suddenly came back to life once more, their cool touch contrasting so perfectly with the heat of your bodies as they swirled around your clit in time with his thrusts.

“A-Ah! Dark, yes, pleeaaasse! Fuck- Fuck!”

“That’s it. That’s my good girl. Come for me and let me claim you, pet.

As if mimicking the hold on your hip, another tendril slithered up your back and encircled your throat. The unexpected pressure elicited a tantalizing response, your body suddenly feeling both free and trapped in the best of ways as he bound you to him

“Mine. All mine. My filthy little slutty human whore.”

Something in your psyche broke at those words and ecstasy rushed forward like a tidal wave. Every inch of your body trembled with pleasure as you screamed his name, voice cracking under the duress of it all. You could feel the proof of your indulgence dripping down your inner thighs, the sounds of your debauched pleasure growing louder with every slap of his hips against yours.

“Fucking hell!” Dark bit out harshly, “Good girl. Good fucking slut. Who do you belong to?! Say it!”

“You! Only you, Dark! O-Ooh, f-ffu-fuck!”

With inhuman speed, he slammed into you, over and over until the smack of your bodies was almost continuous. His choked roar filtered through your senses but it was was easily washed away with your second climax teetering on the edge. There was a sudden torrential shift of energy, pulsing eerie screeches filling the room as his voice echoed off the walls when he finally buried himself as far as possible inside of you. Any pain was quickly washed away by the thunderous roll of pleasure brought on by the touch of his tendrils mixed with the throb of his cock releasing deep in your cunt. Claws trailed down your spine as he practically purred your name, leaving behind five raw lines that stung under the combined sweat of your bodies, and somehow you found yourself okay with it; loved it, in fact, knowing that his marks would be on you for quite some time.

Quaking with bliss and exhaustion, you collapsed to the bed the instant he slipped out of your core and let out a little delighted whimper. You reached out blindly for him and were appeased when he laid down beside you, pulling you against him so your face was resting on his chest.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed that,” you murmured, fingers tracing up and down the little scar in his abdomen, “It goes without saying but that was fucking phenomenal, so thank you.”

Your head bobbed up and down with his laughter and you couldn’t help the grin that turned up your lips in return.

“I have to say I’m in agreement, pet,” he hummed back, “It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to let go in such a way.”

With a hand on your bicep and the arm under your head, he pulled you up and shifted you over his hips until you were perched on quaking knees. You almost questioned him but were silenced when he leaned up and captured your lips in a stinging kiss. It started out rough and slowly devolved into a passionate tangle of tongues.

It wasn’t until he pulled back for a breath that the reality of what was to happen started to sink in; the serotonin in your veins being replaced with anxiety.

“So, does this mean I die now? You have to take my soul, right?” you asked softly, “Since I made my last wish?”

“Hmm? I never heard you make a wish, pet,” he replied as he stretched back languidly.

Eyebrows furrowing, you let your confused expression convey your thoughts as one of his hands began to travel down your curves.

“But I asked-”

Your words were cut off by your own gasp when you felt his cock rising between your thighs. Wide-eyed and warm-faced, you gaped at him in shock. Apparently, a very short cool down period was also a demon perk?!

He smirked at your awe as a thumb traced your lower lip seductively.

“You asked and I gave freely,” he explained, fingers dipping to trace sharp claws along your throat, “You still have one wish remaining. Although, I’d suggest you save it for later. I feel like we have much more important things to attend at the moment, darling.”

[moon-light-jukebox]

see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

masterlist

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand. 

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r​. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV. 

-- Linear Progression -- 

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

--

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”  

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

--

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note.  By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

--

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."  

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

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[theartofdreaming1]

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 25-27 are below the cut.

heart

The imagery that really caught my attention this time was Peeta pointing out the changes in the moon to Katniss: The only indication of the passage of time lies in the heavens, the subtle shift of the moon. So Peeta begins pointing it out to me, insisting I acknowledge its progress and sometimes, for just a moment I feel a flicker of hope before the agony of the night engulfs me again. - So for one, we see another example of Peeta focusing on the small details in life (which I’ve previously hypothesized to being an important element in his recovery from his hijacking) as well as Peeta being the one to give Katniss hope, even if it’s just for a brief moment. Also, it’s a nice parallel to Katniss looking at the moon and desperately wishing for it to be “her moon” back in chapter 23. As a nocturnal person, I also love watching the moon from my living room window🌙

mind

Hmmh, I don’t think that Katniss and Peeta’s win was predetermined - although I do believe that by introducing the romantic angle, they significantly improved their odds. A Career winning the Games is not really that special and exciting, since it happens so often (although Careers generally satisfy that excitement for violence/blood/gore, that plenty of Capitol people seem to share). As a volunteer from District 12, who achieved an extremely good training score and proved herself to be very capable in the arena already, Katniss definitely had an edge by playing into the classic underdog story, which offered another exciting “narrative” for the Capitolites to follow - that, coupled (heh) with the romance angle Peeta introduced? Katniss (and Peeta) definitely had the entertainment (and excitement through novelty) factor on their side. Ironically, Cato’s chances of winning were not as good as he expected, precisely because he was playing it by the book.

soul

Poor Peeta (and Katniss), it hurts that their relationship was in such a rocky place by the end of the book. Especially those weeks right after the end of Book 1, when there were still cameras around District 12 and they had to pretend while hurting must have sucked big time🥺

Chapter 25

Ugh, the muttations are just so unsettling... *shudder*

Honestly, I’m just so impressed by Peeta’s presence of mind to draw that X on Cato’s hand, after he had just most of his calf ripped off, only to be grabbed and put in a headlock by Cato! He and Katniss work insanely well under pressure

God, Cato’s death is just so gruesome and awful... In the end, his “gift” from the Feast doesn’t help him win at all, but instead ends up prolonging his suffering a cruel amount... I wonder if in general these “gifts” come with a string attached (aside from the expected danger of trying to get them, I mean) - because the Gamemakers also intend for Katniss’s “gift” (medicine for Peeta) to force an even more cruel outcome on her - saving him from blood poisoning only to be forced into killing him herself... 🤔

I’m not sure if this is exactly medical protocol, but I’m terrified that if he drifts off he’ll never wake again. “Are you cold?” he asks. He unzips his jacket and I press against him as he fastens it around me. - Katniss is terrified of the idea of Peeta dying; at the same time, Peeta worries about her freezing - I can’t with these two 😩

Peeta begins to doze off now, and each time he does, I find myself yelling his name louder and louder because if he goes and dies on me now, I know I’ll go completely insane. He’s fighting it, probably more for me than for him - Katniss can’t lose any more people she cares about 😢; on a different note, Peeta fighting his unconsciousness “probably more for [Katniss] than for him” points out one of the crucial elements Katniss brings into Peeta’s life - she is that someone for whom he will fight - including for his own life and well-being - even when it feels easier to give up... Having that person in your life that keeps you going can make all the difference - if Katniss hadn’t had Prim and promised her “to really, really try” to win (and later also made Rue the same promise), I’m not sure she would have made it this far; it’s the thought of Prim anxiously watching her after Rue’s death, that forces Katniss to keep going, to not give in to despair after that particular traumatic event - Peeta, on the other hand, didn’t really have that kind of person in his life, as he will point out on the beach in CF (and Katniss acknowledges herself that the only person who will be devasted if Peeta dies is her)... that is not to say that neither Katniss nor Peeta aren’t fighters on their own - but it helps to have someone that inspires you to not give up

the adrenaline pumping through my body would never allow me to follow him, so I can’t let him go. I just can’t. - We’ll see the mirrored version of this by the end of Mockinjay 

Pity, not vengeance, sends my arrow flying into [Cato’s] skull. - Another act of rebellion, technically (sure, this can be spun as Katniss killing Cato so she and Peeta may win - before Peeta dies from blood loss - but we know better - Katniss’s motivation was compassion for her supposed enemy)

We inch down to the tail of the horn and fall to the ground. If the stiffness in my limbs is this bad, how can Peeta even move? - Peeta is tough as nails, yo!

Before I am even aware of my actions, my bow is loaded with the arrow pointed straight at his heart [...] I drop my weapons and take a step back, my face burning in what can only be shame. “No,” he says. “Do it.” [...] “I can’t,” I say, “I won’t.” - In spite of her initial reflex, Katniss chooses Peeta/ chooses not to kill him; it’s a recurring theme in their relationship (despite her wariness of others, she chooses to open up to Peeta eventually; although she vowed to never marry and have children, she’ll choose to have a family with Peeta); also, my psychology-brain just noticed how this moment illustrates how harmful thoughts/impulses don’t have to determine your actions and are not an indicator of who you are - it’s about what you choose to do

“You’re not leaving me here alone,” I say. Because if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this areny trying to think my way out. - Again, makes me think of MJ; also, I think that from this point onwards, Katniss and Peeta are officially linked together forever; the bond they forged during this traumatic experience will connect them to each other until the day they die

“On the count of three?” Peeta leans down and kisses me once, very gently. “The count of three,” he says. - My heart😭

Chapter 26

... while our muscles are immobile, nothing is preventing the blood from draining out of Peeta’s leg. Sure enough, the minute the door closes behind us and the current stops, he slumps to the floor unconscious  [...] Through the glass, I see the doctors working feverishly on Peeta, their brows creased in concentration [...] I’m not sure, but I think his heart stops twice. - Peeta was in such a bad shape by the end of the Games; I’m still kinda salty that the movie really glossed over this fact :/

... they’re taking Peeta but leaving me behind the door. I start hurling myself against the glass, shrieking and I think I just catch a glimpse of pink hair - it must be Effie, it has to be Effie coming to my rescue - when the needle jabs me from behind. - Oh geez, in Catching Fire Katniss will also get sedated in a hovercraft because she’s upset about being separated from Peeta 😢 (also, Katniss thinking that Effie is coming to her rescue 😭)

While she [Lavinia, the avox] adjusts my pillows, I risk one question. I say it out loud, as clearly as my rusty voice will allow, so nothing will seem secretive. “Did Peeta make it?” She gives me a nod, and as she slips a spoon into my hand, I feel the pressure of friendship. - Katniss is so considerate of Lavinia’s situation, and Lavinia’s giving her a gesture of comfort and support; they’ve never been able to have a proper conversation (Katniss doesn’t even know Lavinia’s name), but still they managed to build up such a bond - compassion certainly is a strong thing to behold 😭 (and this whole scene is just through and through about compassion, with Katniss asking how Peeta is doing!)

Home! Prim and my mother! Gale! Even the thought of Prim’s scruffy old cat makes me smile. Soon I will be home! - Katniss is so excited to see her home and her loved ones again

I want to get out of this bed. To see Peeta and Cinna - Aww, the two people she grew closest to over the course of the past weeks (Haymitch will be added to that list in just a smidge)

Or do I hear a man’s voice yelling? Not in the Capitol accent, but in the rougher cadences of home. And I can’t help having a vague, comforting feeling that someone is looking out for me. - Thank God for Haymitch! 

And behind one of them [doors] must be Peeta. Now that I’m conscious and moving, I’m growing more and more anxious about him [...] “Peeta!” I call out, since there’s no one to ask - Katniss is sick with worry over Peeta; romantic feelings or not, she cares so fricking much for him by now!

I run for them [Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna] and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitch’s arms first. When he whispers in my ear, “Nice job, sweetheart,” it doesn’t sound sarcastic. - These reunion scenes are so intense and heartwarming! And then Katniss asks about Portia and Peeta because their presence would make this scene complete 

when I asks for seconds, I’m refused. “No, no, no. They don’t want it all coming back up on the stage,” says Octavia, but she secretly slips me an extra roll under the table to let me know she’s on my side - It’s moments like these that help humanize Katniss’s prep team - they might be shallow, they might be completely oblivious and ignorant, but they aren’t that bad [of course, the prep team chattering about their mundane lives while talking about the event that ended with the deaths of 22 children shortly after, leaves a bad taste in our mouths]

I immediately notice the padding over my breasts, adding curves that hunger has stolen from my body. My hands go to my chest and I frown. “I know,” says Cinna before I can object. “But the Gamemakers wanted to alter you surgically. Haymitch had a huge fight with them over it. This was the compromise.” - God, the idea that the Gamemakers wanted to give a boob job to an unconscious, malnourished 16-year-old girl makes me sick 🤢 (Also, what’s the flipping deal about boobs?! As a pretty flat-chested gal, I’ve always been annoyed that there are barely any bras my cup size that are not push-up ones; I’m not self-conscious about it, so stop making me pretend that I’m bustier than I actually am!)

“I thought it’d be something more... sophisticated-looking,” I say. “I thought Peeta would like this better,” he [Cinna] answers carefully. Peeta? No, it’s not about Peeta. It’s about the Capitol and the Gamemakers and the audience. Although I do not yet understand Cinna’s design, it’s a reminder the Games are not quite finished. - Ugh, that sinking feeling when Katniss and the reader realize that the Games are still not over... Sidenote: Peeta flirted up a storm with grimy, bloodied Katniss and complimented her when she wore Cinna’s first, absolutely badass costume (”You should wear flames more often”)... Katniss’s girlish outfit  has nothing to do with Peeta and she knows it... Cinna could have dressed Katniss up in a trash bag and Peeta would have been smitten - although a trash bag by Cinna would probably still look pretty good ;)

“How about a hug for luck?” Okay, that’s an odd request from Haymitch but, after all we are victors. Maybe a hug for luck is in order. - Aww, Katniss actually wouldn’t have minded giving Haymitch a hug just because - sadly, this is about survival tips instead :/

But what was it Haymitch said when I asked it he had told Peeta the situation? That he had to pretend to be desperately in love? “Don’t have to. He’s already there.” Already thinking ahead of me in the Games again and well aware of the danger we’re in? Or... already desperately in love? I don’t know. I haven’t even begun to separate out my feelings about Peeta. It’s too complicated. - Poor Katniss... she didn’t have the time and peace of mind to sort out her feelings regarding Peeta before they all got tied up and muddled with her need for survival. Now she’ll be having an even harder time trying to untangle that mess :(

Chapter 27

Then there’s Peeta just a few yards away. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms [...] He rights himself and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He’s kissing me and all the time I’m thinking, Do you know? Do you know how much danger we’re in? After about ten minutes of this, Caesar Flickerman taps on his choulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him. - Man, their reunion here always gets me - it would be so fricking good if Katniss didn’t have to worry about their potential doom 😒😔 - she barely has time to just be happy to see Peeta alive and well before slipping back into survival mode while Peeta is just genuinely thrilled to have her in his arms, completely unaware of the pressure and immediate danger Katniss experiences in this moment... It hurts so bad

I’m with Katniss - How did the previous victors endure rewatching those horrible moments from the Games?! I guess because they had to, but oof... I think I’d just completely shut down, blocking out the footage shown, ugh

But I do notice they omit the part where I covered her [Rue] in flowers. Right. Because even that smacks of rebellion. - In such a callous and cruel place as Panem, any act of compassion can be regarded as rebellion, it’s crazy. In a place filled with apathy, hedonism, greed, and cruelty, the most radical things you can exhibit are love, kindness, and respect!

A wave of gratitude to the filmmakers sweeps over me when they end not with the announcement of our victory, but with me pounding on the glass door of the hovercraft, screaming Peeta’s name as they try to revive him. In terms of survival, it’s my best moment all night. - Again, another instance where Katniss’s genuine feelings/reactions to Peeta are get muddled with her need for survival

The one thing I never do is let go of Peeta’s hand. - irrevocably linked with each other

Despite Haymitch’s running interference, I’m determined to see Peeta privately. - Katniss just wants to have an honest and open talk with Peeta 😢 (I get where Haymitch is coming from, and maybe in this instance it’s the right call, but we’ll see a similar situation in the beginning of CF when Haymitch advises Katniss not to tell Peeta about President Snow’s visit and that time, it doesn’t go so well...)

Then Peeta’s there looking handsome in red and white - for someone who isn’t sure whether she’s into him or not, Katniss sure mentions how good Peeta’s looking a lot 😏

“Well, there’s just this and we go home. Then he can’t watch us all the time,” says Peeta. - 👀👀 Peeta is so thirsty here; reminds me of when he pulled Katniss close to him in the cave before they set out to hunt... He clearly believes she’s also “already there” regarding their relationship; he’s never this “suggestive” (can’t think of a better word right now) with her once she lets him know that she doesn’t really know how she feels about him - I feel a sort of shiver run through me and there’s no time to analyze why - Katniss totally isn’t averse to what Peeta’s suggesting here, either (though there’s probably also a healthy amount of fear mixed in with the thrill of being wanted - letting people in can be terrifying)

I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, “So now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?” I turn in to him. “Put you somewhere you can’t get hurt.” And when he kisses me, people in the room actually sigh. - It’s me; I’m people 🙋🏼‍♀️ (also, the “turn in to him”?!?!! it just suggests such a closeness, I can’t-)

Katniss burying her face in Peeta’s shirt when she’s afraid she might cry learning that he lost his leg 🥺 (how awful it must be to be constantly on display while you’re dealing with your private feelings, ugh)

“... The moment when you pulled out those berries. What was going on in your mind... hm?” [...] It seems to call for a big, dramatic speech, but all I get out is one almost inaudible sentences. “I don’t know, I just... couldn’t bear the thought of... being without him.” - It might not be a super eloquent way to put what she was supposed to say, but this way, Katniss is being perfectly honest (and frankly, if she’d had the chance to properly process her feelings, she would have been able to voice this sentiment with less hesitation)

I go back to my room to collect a few things and find there’s nothing to take but the mockingjay pin Madge gave me. Someone returned it to my room after the Games. - For one, Katniss didn’t think of that pin (again), but also - was the pin returned to her simply because it’s standard procedure or did someone (like Plutarch, for example) arrange for Katniss to get the pin back, to keep her connection to this symbol going?

I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not. - Poor Katniss! She’s been through so much, experienced so many traumatic events in short succession recently (aside from the trauma she already had), already had problems defining her identity beyond sheer survival, and now the Capitol also keeps pushing an identity onto her and a romantic relationship, when she hadn’t even had the chance to figure out how she felt about that yet

“... Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn’t make it worse,” I say. “Coaching you? But not me,” says Peeta. “He knew you were smart enough to get it right,” I say. “I didn’t know there was anything to get right,” says Peeta. - Oh boy. It’s always so painful to see Peeta realize that he’s been completely out of the loop; again, we’ll see how Katniss and Haymitch adopt a similar strategy in the beginning of CF: banking on Peeta’s good social skills and eloquence and keeping him in the dark. In a way, it’s a sort of compliment they pay to Peeta for being good with people, but, by not telling him, they are also using him for their purpose (which is motivated by caring for and wanting to protect Peeta, but still). Peeta is right to be upset about it - he has always been very clear about not wanting to be used as a piece in anyone’s games, really. And, as we will see later in CF, they are way more effective as a team when they are open and honest with each other.

“It was all for the Games,” Peeta says. “How you acted.” “Not all of it,” I say, tightly holding on to my flowers. “Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what’s going to be left when we get home?” he says. “I don’t know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get,” I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none’s forthcoming. “Well, let me know when you work it out,” he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable. - It’s just so goddamn painful😢 They’ve both been done so dirty by that forced star-crossed lovers of Distrct 12 routine. (Sidenote: I appreciate that Peeta actually gives Katniss the chance to explain herself here - still, it’s too much to deal with on the spot so I can understand why Katniss ended up dropping the ball, even though it’s frustrating to read.)

That it’s not good loving me because I’m never going to get married anyway and he’d just end up hating me later instead of sooner. That if I do have feelings for him, it doesn’t matter because I’ll never be able to afford the kind of love that leads to a family, to children. And how can he? How can he after what we’ve just been through? - Oh Katniss, you certainly are skipping a couple of steps here; I’m pretty sure there are some options in between dating and being married with kids you could look into. Also, she’s just assuming that this is what Peeta wants, but she doesn’t know that at all - As someone who also has this stupid habit of imagining how whole conversations could possibly transpire and then resigning myself to the hypothetical outcome of said imagined conversation instead of actually having them: Don’t do that. ‘Never assume - it makes an ASS out of U and ME.’ 

I see Peeta extend his hand. I look at him, unsure. “One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’ t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me. I take his hand, holding it tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go. - Ma babies! They are both so hurt and both just want to be with each other 😭 But they’ll need some time apart, to figure things out before they can do that.

[the-voltage-diaries]

“Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.” - Eisuke Ichinomiya [Request]

This isn’t exactly ‘romance,’ but I hope you like the direction this takes! Stamp of approval of @akaiiro-yume​

I can hear her.

Well, of course I can. She’s on the other side of the very door I have my palm pressed against while I pause to catch my breath. With each exhale, I feel the anxiety gripping me slowly loosen its hold. But at the same time, with each of her wails, I feel it gear back up to clutch me tight yet another time.

“Heh, you actually ran all the way here, didn’t you?” pipes in a voice, and I don’t need to turn my head to see who it is. The teasing lilt to the familiar baritone could only belong to the one man I trust enough to handle my wife’s current situation in my absence. “Are you planning on going in?” he asks after allowing a quiet moment to sink in.

“Mmhm. How’s she doing, Soryu?”

“The doctor came by 15 minutes ago, said everything was as it should be. They’re planning to give her an epidural soon.” He crosses his arms over his chest as his eyes lightly scan the medical posters lining the walls.

“Got it,” I whisper and, for a split second, I don’t know what else to add. My eyes shut themselves, blocking out any light from my vision when I hear another cry rip through her throat. For some reason on which I can’t get a grip yet, I feel a certain heaviness settle into the pit of my stomach. And as much as I want to, I can’t control it.

“She’s a strong woman,” Soryu mutters and his hand gives my shoulder a firm squeeze, as if sensing my restlessness. “It’ll be fine, Eisuke.”

“Mmhm,” I hum again, letting the weight of his words calm me down. “You’re right.”

Once I’ve taken another deep breath to fully ground myself, I excuse myself from his company to go have a word with the doctor first. I walk back with her to the LDR my wife’s in, all the while asking her various questions about her situation to get a firm handle on what’s going on.

One of the nurses trusted with my wife’s care makes her way to us when she spots us a few feet away. “Doctor,” she addresses, “the epidural has been administered to Mrs. Ichinomiya. She’s still in minor pain, but the anesthesia has started taking its effect.”

The doctor - Ms. Chen - nods in response. Then, she turns to look at me with a kind smile.

“Would you like to accompany me inside?”

She doesn’t have to ask twice.

//

There she is, on the bed in a corner of one of the finest Labor, Delivery and Recovery rooms in the world. She’s the first thing I see the second I step foot into the room, her meek pants knocking on the shell of my ear, providing me with minor relief that she might not be in as much pain anymore. Her eyes are half-lid, drowsy with the after effects of exhaustion.

“Hi, baby,” I whisper, stepping closer to her and taking her hand in mine. I don’t want to disturb any rest she’s getting, she needs it. While Dr. Chen talks to another nurse in the room, she takes the opportunity to intertwine her fingers through mine after giving my hand a slight, but firm squeeze.

“Hi.” When she opens her eyes a little to look up at me, I notice how watery they are with the coalescence of tears, effects of the epidural and fatigue.

“How’re you holding up?”

“I’m... fine...” Her words are drawn out, slurred. Her smile is almost as watery as her eyes, and in spite of all that she seems ready to face the next round of contractions without any qualms.

“Good. Good,” I mutter the last part mostly to myself as some form of reassurance while my eyes swim over the various health monitors right beside her. “And how’s she?”

My wife lets out the most breathlessly amazing laugh at the mention of our child. “Oh, her? She’s a mighty fine warrior, alright,” and the fond look in her eyes is a stark contrast to the coldness I felt crawling up my spine not even five minutes ago. “Giving her mommy a little bit of a tough time.”

I gently touch her swollen belly with my palm. An involuntary smile finds its way into my voice when I whisper, “Don’t worry. Daddy’s here to help mommy now.”

“Okay, Mrs. Ichinomiya. Are we ready to push?” Dr. Chen asks, nodding to the nurse she had been talking to earlier.

It’s with a nod of her own that the most important woman in my life grabs my hand a little tighter, ready for the next phase of her labour...

... and three hours later, the cry of the next most important female in my life reverberates through the walls of the room.

//

“You were amazing, baby,” I press a kiss to my wife’s forehead, not bothered one bit by the beads of sweat forming on her skin. “I love you.”

“I... I love you too...” she whispers back, her eyes fully closing as she succumbs  to her exhaustion.

I’m sitting right by her side with a hand grasping hers, the other stroking back the hair sticking to her face as I wait for the nurse to clean up and examine the baby. It’s nearly impossible to keep myself from barging into the adjacent room and take a look at the treasure my wife gave me, but I keep reminding myself how important these initial check-ups are.

“Mr. Ichinomiya,” I hear a voice call out, and I turn in it’s direction. “Congratulations, the baby is as healthy as can be,” Dr. Chen smiles,  walking into the room with a nurse carrying my child. “Would you like to hold her?”

“Of... Of course,” I stutter for probably the first time in my life when I see the purple blanket my baby’s wrapped up in and realise... she’s-she’s really here. My child, scratch that, my daughter was...was actually born. She’s really just a few feet away from me.

“Go, hold her,” the love of my life drowsily mutters when my feet don’t move, and that’s all the encouragement I need.

I take a step forward, then two. I walk up to the nurse and finally, finally, touch the bundle of joy wrapped up in the softest blanket made in the world. I press my fingers under her tiny arms and take her from the nurse. And then I lay her down onto my arm with her head in the crook of my elbow.

I hold her.

I hold my daughter.

The second I do, it’s as if the world goes quiet. I don’t hear anyone, I don’t see anyone. My thumb traces the curve of her cheek and I take a moment to just... appreciate the blessing she is. The trance-like state I’ve gone into is broken when Dr. Chen asks, “Have you thought of a name for your daughter yet?”

“Eiri,” the word flows out of my lips as naturally as an exhale. The moment it does, I hear a light cry. It comes from Eiri’s mouth. Her tiny fists open up and reach out above her, grazing the line of my jaw. Her lips open again and curve up into the most magical of smiles as another sound comes from her throat.

But this time, it’s a joyous shriek. Met with the force of her true power, a burst of euphoria fills me at the sound and before I know it, I’m laughing along too.

“Y-You like that, don-don’t you?” I ask my child, lifting her a little and bopping her tiny nose with a finger. “You’re... You’re-” it takes me a second to get myself together, “You’re my Eiri, aren’t you?”

“Eisuke... Are you crying?” I hear my wife ask just as I feel something hot trail its way down my cheek.

“Not, absolutely not,” I retort, my eyes never leaving my child. I know it’s a lie, but right now I can’t really be bothered to focus on anything but the weight of life in my arms.

“You.. you do realise you’re not making any sense.” And I do. But right now, the smiling little goddess in my arms is making sure none of my senses work the way they’re supposed to.

“It’s her fault,” I finally reply to my wife before pressing a kiss to Eiri’s cheek. I turn to the infant, talking to her as if she was capable of understanding what I was going to say next. “Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”  

I hear the mother of my child laugh when my daughter seems to only smile wider in response, refusing to take any responsibility for the damage she’s causing. It’s after a few more minutes of having her bundle up in my arms that I hand her over to her mother.

And it’s too hard to resist whispering, “Thank you for giving me everything I could have hoped for and more.”

[ellelans]

Ok so I finished rewatching 5A-it was time since I felt emotionally detached enough for a rewatch and we are at this point of hiatus where its probably wise to take a step back from fandom but anyways...I had mixed feelings about 5A and I finally made my peace.

Binge-watching is very different from week to week especially since you know whats going to happen and what to expect and you already processed most of it.Took me some time to actually go back and rewatch because I wasn’t ready as I had all kinds of mixed emotions about 5A.Show is changing and evolving into something different and new and probably even more exciting,but first part was hits and misses.Luckily more hits because 911 is brilliant and it was great to  experience eddieana breakup again,my heart broke again for Maddie (was I the only one who at some point forgot she even was in 5a?it felt like that anyways) and then again for Chim in 504.I can’t wait for them to get back and for Chim figure things out with Buck (they are family they have to).

And then we got 5x06 and that hostage situation and honestly Eddie arriving to a conclusion to leave 118 in 5x10?Is the most Eddie thing to do ever and I already knew that of course,but I never before watched both episodes in one day so it hits differently. This time I was watching Buck closely the whole time and again nothing new but noone is gonna struggle with Eddie’s decision than Buck - Eddie will deal with it until he comes back to 118 (and noone doubts that he will),but Buck will take it hard.I hope that we are getting Buckley Diaz family time out of that and finally on a way for some serious talking.

One of the reasons I wanted to rewatch was to confirm to myself that I wasn’t bitter about some things for nothing and nope nothing really changed.I still absolutely hate Athena’s storyline in first episodes until it was resolved with Harry finally coming home in 5x07.I skipped mst of the scenes tbh.Then it gets better and I am able to let go enough to cry over emotional episode that is 5X08 and Michael and David leaving and by the end of the season I am once again doing ok with Grant-Nash family.

The word ‘’repellent’’ comes to mind every time TayKay is onscreen and I am still furious over them giving her so much screen time with a sob background story.I know she is a filler,they needed all the side characters to cover up for 3 mains leaving and yes BT is a part of Buck’s journey that is hopefully coming to end soon (I have no doubt that this relationship will be over,its just the ‘soon’ part I am not sure about)-but watching it play out again made me tired and even more bored than before.And I am absolutely NOT KIDDING when I am saying this but I did rewatch ‘Ghost Story’ and she had more chemistry with Lou Ransone in a few scenes than with Buck in entire 5A.I can dislike BT all I want for Buck reasons,but honestly my biggest problem with them is that I am bored out of my mind,there was way too much of them in 5A and TayKay as a character is just useless. She contributes nothing to general storyline (she is just a part of Buck’s) while wasting entire scenes and as much as I love Buck...I can’t find an ounce of sympathy in me for his gf in 5x09 or care about anything she does or says. The only good thing about it all is that once you’re rewatching and processing you can’t help but applaud the writers for carefully crafting a relationship that is pretending to be something that its not and when BT goes boom noone will be surprised because all the signs that its not working are already in place.

And the most important part of the season so far-Eddie Diaz.After everything that he have been through,all his traumas,shooting and recovery,panic attacks and breaking off a relationship,changes at work,being taken hostage at the gun point and having to deal with distraught Chris who is handling (or not) his own traumas over Eddie’s shooting-Eddie makes a decision that will change the show even more.It was also interesting how Chris was sort of a Chekov’s gun in 5x01 when he was the one who mentioned that Eddie got shot and how in 5x10 that gun went off! I am always impressed with writers for planting foreshadowing here and there and they didn’t disappoint at all.

We have a little over a month till 5B and I couldn’t be more excited! All the changes we experienced in 5A,with show getting darker,grittier and more dramatic will continue imo but we have so much more to expect now.I have no idea what they are planning for Eddie and can’t wait to see where they are taking him,Maddie and Chim are coming back,hopefully Hen will get a more exciting storyline,Buck will be free again and the most important-what is gonna happen with Buck and Eddie now?! You know me I am a diehard buddie stan who believes we are heading for canon buddie (again with all the signs in place already) but WHEN?!!I WANT CLUES,I am even more invested now after a rewatch and I wasn’t sure that’s even possible! 

In conclusion - I am so.ready. for 5B now and its great I had a time out from rl so I could just sit and rewatch.I needed it and I am glad I finally made peace with 5A.