#and now everything is inflamed and nothing is healing as fast as it should

[cutevirgo]

love saying ‘tummy issues’ in regards to a cluster of chronic diseases bc i love vagueness and cutesy terms and it’s easier to ignore the pain lmao bc tummy’s be like that sometimes

[alicenaivory]

•⊱ 𝐈𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝 •⊱ (written in 2019)

[I use to be tangled in your sheets like there were no way out. Suffocated in our aromas, the way they mixed together. How crimson and sweat stuck to our skins from victims whose names still remain unknown for me.

I’d wonder if our hearts would beat the the same rhythm when we were in sync...

How every inch of you filled me and reached my spots so effortlessly. My core would be drenched from the countless times you made me release. The sound of us echoing off the walls.

Our noises of pleasure was our own song but it wasn’t

enough..

We had to cut,

had to tear,

needed to bite!

Anything to cause one another pain because that /was/ our pleasure. Our ultimate high. It was euphoric!

And now as I lie in your bed I feel the complete opposite.

Dysphoric!

When my hands trace my soft velvet folds

until I unwind, it’s not the same. Not like you marking my insides with your release.

Nothing compares! No one will /ever/ compare.

I’ve been laying here for a week now. I hardly found the strength to move. My body can’t function without the brain...

And Damon you were the brain.

I haven’t had a drop of blood in my system for over 72 hours. My throat aches likes a hot curling iron is being pushed down it.

If only it could pierce right through my heart.

My chest is heavier with each breath that I take. Your pillow is soiled in every drop of my tears but I’m still laying on it. I still want to lay here.

I could just lay here and desiccate! I’d let myself nearly rot in hopes you’d show up and take my hand. If you aren’t here to do it, who else would?

You knew I wouldn’t let you go no matter how many times you pushed. So you finally put me in a position where I have to. A position where I have no other choice...

Now how is that fair?

I use the sharp tips of red manicured nails that donned on my fingers to carve your name in my inner thigh. The first day it faded just as fast as I done it, the torn skin would attach good as new. As the days passed your name would stay longer, the scars would linger before they healed.

This isn’t healthy and I know it.

If I get up from your bed I shouldn’t want to come back here. There’s nothing here except the memories and...

Your pictures?!

With one pull I’m up again, searching anxiously around the room. I swung open wooden dressers carelessly.

Where are they?

They are missing from the frames. I’m sent into a panic as I run around room to room.

So many frames!

/Nothing/ but frames.

A bunch of them are here but the photos aren’t inside. They are gone!

/You/ are gone.

Did you do this?

What would be the purpose?

You want to be wiped away from existence. No longer in my world and I needed to know why.

Did I run you away?

If I loved you shouldn’t I had set you free?

This pain is too much to bear. These questions are nagging at my brain, eating away at my sanity.

Now I’m grabbing whatever is in my reach, aiming to destroy it, letting it crash on the floor.

Everything is so loud!

The last bottles of alcohol shatters like the shards of my heart.

What’s my goal here?

I can’t control the tears blurring my vision, staining my cheeks with mascara. My own tears are starting to feel inflamed on my skin.

They burn.

Maybe I should /Burn/.

I’m captured by a pack of matches sitting over the fire place. A fireplace that looks so lonely and abandoned without you to care for it. You didn’t care much for material things but you had a thing for fire. Most vampires hated it due to it being our greatest weakness..but not you. You liked to live dangerously and I admired you for it.

I hold the matches in my hand, breaking off a piece but I’m hesitant to strike it across the paper. I still don’t want to let go, I feel trapped here. I feel If I step outside into a world without you, my breath would go thin and my lungs would inflame leading to a very painful death.

What if I let it all burn? I could burn this house down with me inside because at least I’m dying with some part of you. You were where my story began and this is where it ended.

I struck the match across the paper, forming a flame on the match. Before I had a chance to change my mind I drop it on the carpet. I walk over to your favorite sofa chair, taking a seat to watch the flames rise. Soon this house would be a pile of ash along with me and it’ll all be over.

This is the end.

The end of my story with you, Damon...

Within twenty minutes the flames rise to the walls, crumbling and pulling down the paintings. The fire is coming toward me it’s touching the end of my heels before it rises up my legs. It lights the ends of my pants, trickling up my body to inflame me.

I want this fire to swallow me whole. For only then I can truly be...

Reborn.

I laughed in the beginning, I screamed as it melted my skin and in that moment I realized I could survive anything. I could survive without you. I didn’t /need/ you and you told me that all along.

So I escaped.

Nothing but black dust and bruises on my skin. Every inch of my clothes burned in that house and now I’m bare in the woods. My body lies against a tree, sensitive back against it. I still haven’t fed yet, I’m entirely too weak to go on but a flashlight saves me. A man holds it toward me, he looks innocent and caring. Most humans do.

“Hey, you okay?” Behind me he can see through all the trees that a house is up in flames. The house I let the part of me that craved you die. The Alice you knew die so that I could be reborn again.

I used my forearms to cover my body, looking at the man with the flashlight as I whispered.]

I was in the fire. [I reach out to him with my dark bloody hands.] Come closer, please. I’m cold... [I loved to play this game. Where I’d seem helpless and they’d help and then I’d deceive them.] Please, help me. [He draws himself in closer, removing his brown jacket in the process. He looks into my eyes with those big brown ones he has. They are so full of life and that’s just too bad. I reach out snatching him by the throat, pulling his body flush against mine. I sink my fangs into his soft flesh, tearing into him like he was my first meal. That’s because he was...

Alice died in the boarding house but she was /reborn/.

His screams are like a endless song in my head. I want to hear it just a little longer...

My once torn open flesh is healing piece by piece and as I take this humans one last drop I had never felt better. I pull my head back from him laying the back of it against the tree. In that moment as the crimsons falls from my lips, I feel alive. I feel different.. it makes me feel guilty. What is this sudden relief?

Now I can say it.

Now I can mean it.]

Goodbye, Damon.

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 4:

иαкαмσтσ уυтα

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @curieouscapt @whathamelon @unknown5tar

warnings: yandere and possessive behavior, implied violence, implied rape, I do not condone any of this behavior.

“Honey, I’m home!” Yuta shouted from the front door, waiting patiently for you to come out and greet him. Anger started building up inside him as you didn’t come out of your shared bedroom. “Y/n!”

It wasn’t until a few moments later that he remembered you were chained, unable to leave the room without his permission. Your new restraints had been product of your pathetic attempt to escape a few days ago, you lost your privilege of even going out to the living room.

“Hi baby.” He entered the room with the most sickening smile ever. “What did you do while I was gone?” He was indeed insane, but not a monster, at least not in his opinion. He provided you with all kinds of entertainment, Tv, canvases to paint, books, you name it.

There was no response from you, your clouded eyes staring into the wall. He sat on the bed, right beside your legs.

“Are the chains too short? Would you like me to make them longer?” He acted as if he was the good guy, as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. “Oh, right! Your period arrived a few days ago, right? Should I buy more tampons?”

The thing is, your period hadn’t arrived. And you perfectly knew why.

Weeks ago, Yuta had come home drunk, forcing himself into you over and over again. It wasn’t the first time that happened, nor would it be the last. The wounds he’d provoked you were still healing, the purple marks on your wrists and thighs almost gone now.

You didn’t want to give him the pleasure of having a family, but you still needed to know what was going on.

“Buy me a pregnancy test.” There were no emotions in your voice, no happiness, no anger, no nothing.

“Are you...?” On the other hand, Yuta felt like he’d explode from happiness. A baby was on the way, his baby. “I’ll be right back.”

As suspected, you were indeed, carrying his baby. You felt sorry for the small being growing on your belly. It was the product of a rape, therefore, it was impossible for you to think of even loving it. Not when it’s father was the person you hated the most.

“I love you so much.” He smashed his lips against yours. “I’ll get you some vitamins as soon as possible, and you need to start eating again. I wouldn’t want to feed you through that tube again, but I’ll do what’s necessary to keep you both healthy.” His ice cold hands sneaked inside your shirt, rubbing the slightly inflamed area. “Don’t make that face, if you behave well enough, I might let you leave the room again.”

As your belly started growing, so did your hopes of escaping. He hadn’t forced you to do anything ever since he found out about your pregnancy, he even unlocked the chains, letting you wander freely around the house.

“Only five more months.” Yuta murmured, applying some cream to your round belly. You bit your lip, disgusted by his gentle touch. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Your eyes sparkled with hope, nodding eagerly at his proposition. He was finally trusting you again.

As you walked through the park near his house, his hand grabbing tightly onto yours, a plan started forming inside your mind. There was a restaurant nearby, you’d often visit it when you were in good terms with Yuta. You knew for a fact that the bathrooms had a wide window, perfect for sneaking out.

“Yuta, I need to pee.” He didn’t suspect, for you had been going regularly while you were still inside the house. According to his research, he knew pregnant women needed to pee more often than normal people.

“I’ll take you.” As expected, he walked you to that familiar restaurant. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

‘What the hell is wrong with him?’

“You’ll get in trouble, just wait for me here.” Gathering all your willpower, you pecked his lips.

“Alright, darling.”

You locked the door behind you as soon as you were in, running towards the window and easily opening it. With a hand below your belly, you slid one leg out, then the other. You fell on your back, but it didn’t matter anymore, you were free.

You ran as fast as your legs and extra weight allowed you to, luckily finding a taxi.

“Just drive to the nearest police station.” You said out of breath. “It’s an emergency, please.”

The taxi driver nodded, driving as fast as he could under the speed limits. At last, you finally arrived to your destination, the driver extending his hand to receive his payment.

“I-I don’t have any money right now, but I think this watch will be enough.” You quickly got rid of it, placing it on top of his palm. It looked expensive, Yuta had given it to you as a birthday gift. “Please sir, I don’t have anything else to give you.”

Maybe he felt sorry for your desperate self, but he accepted your payment, wishing you good luck as you got off the vehicle. 

The police officer listened to your story attentively, typing everything down on her computer.

“Do you have anyone to call?”

“My parents, but he’d probably find me if I went to them.” And god knows what he’d be capable of doing to them.

“We’ll try to find somewhere you can stay at, with protection, of course.” Your hands twisted each other over the desk, afraid Yuta would come in and take you back to the apartment any minute. “You’ll be alright, miss. Let us find him and make him pay for what he did.”

But they wouldn’t, Yuta was way too smart to let himself get caught.

While you were busy with the cops, he was already looking for you. It wouldn’t be long before you were between his arms again, you and his child safe from the world’s dangers. And of course, you’d receive the punishment you deserved right after the baby was born. He wouldn’t stop until his love was by his side once again, even if it meant taking down everyone who came in his way.

[avengershumanresources]

blood 9 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 8 - part 10

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

WARNING: Mention of violence/attempted assault from prior chapter

9 - a king’s arrival

Thank the gods Loki crossed Stephen’s path first, because things were happening far more quickly than the sorcerer had anticipated. He had heard a particularly chilling rumor upon his return to the castle from surveying the magical barriers with Amora and was in route to your quarters to check on you. 

Loki intercepted him and caught him up to what had happened.

Loki had told Peter the details of what he’d stumbled upon between you and Brock. Immediately inflamed, Peter started in motion the rebellion he’d been planning with Nat and the guard. With the Asgardian army’s support, Peter could easily usurp the throne from Obadiah by the end of the night. 

Especially now that the alliance between him and Brock was in question with the betrothal in a murky area. 

Less than twelve hours, Stephen calculated while Loki kept pace with him toward your room. That’s all it took for the plans to go into motion and the next steps to proceed.

“He didn’t-,” Stephen asked after they’d arrived, his anger simmering and threatening to boil based off of his companions response. He needed to keep control. He needed to kept his head or risk you falling into harm.

“No,” Loki stated clearly. “It was stopped before he finished his task. Her seidr did well to protect her. You acted in good judgment by not fully sealing it.”

“Amora?” he pressed and Loki smirked back at him. 

“She’s been tending to Brock the last hour, but I’m certain they won’t have time to rally a guard to their cause,” he explained quickly. “My men outnumber theirs two to one, and from what Natalia has told me, the majority of the guard will support Peter.” He paused and glanced around, lowering his voice.

“Besides, even if they mobilize troops, after you finish your part, Brock will have nothing else to gain from an alliance with Obadiah.”

“And the queen and younger princess?” Stephen’s hand rested on the knob of your door. Eyes shut while he listened to Loki’s report.

“James is with them now,” Loki nodded. “They’ll be moved once Peter makes the first move. I’m meeting with Thor before dinner to confirm some of the entry points to the castle in case Obadiah tries to deter us once things get.. chaotic.”

Perfect. Everything was falling into place, and you were none the wiser, which meant neither were your enemies. 

Loki disappeared once Stephen summoned a tray of stew and started through the door, unsure how he’d find you on the other side. 

Personally, Stephen wanted to rip Brock to shreds. He wanted to cut the skin off of him and sprinkle salts and other acids over open wounds and watch him scream. He wanted to gauge his eyes out, fling him from the tallest balcony, and listen to his cries for mercy. 

It wasn’t a pride thing. Stephen wasn’t the least bit upset that you’d been sullied or marked by another man, no, he was upset because he’d hurt you. 

And seeing the aftershocks for himself only further fueled Stephen’s rage. 

You were in a sleeping gown, hair pulled loose, legs curled into yourself, fully submerged in your bedding. When he set the tray of food down on a nearby table and stirred you, his heart broke at your swollen eyelids and red, glossy eyes. 

He should have been there sooner. 

“Stephen?” you asked sleepily. You clearly cried yourself into exhaustion, your cheeks still puffy from the ordeal.

“My love,” he sat on the edge of the bed and fully enveloped you in his arms. You were a bit tense at first, but immediately sank into him when he started rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s not your fault-,” you murmured with a small hiccup and a sigh. Pulling away, you looked up miserably toward him. “He’s a monster... we knew that. I shouldn’t have sent Steve to find you.”

Stephen stopped, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your palm, cradling the shaking digits tenderly. 

“You did nothing wrong,” he stated firmly. “A lady shouldn’t have to fear her company- her betrothed- would... dishonor her in such a horrendous manner. You were brave and defended yourself. I’m proud of you for being so strong.”

Your eyes watered again, your bottom lip trembling. A few tears snuck down your face and before you could wipe at them angrily, Stephen caught them with his thumb, his hands moving to cradle your cheeks. 

“Loki... he said he would fix it... is everything...?” you asked meekly and despite the gnawing feeling that lying to left him, he nodded. 

“All is under control,” he assured you softly. “Why don’t you have some stew and continue resting?”

“Will you stay?” you asked, gripe tightening around his hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead and helping you settle into bed, before handing off the tray. 

He sat next to you while you picked at your food, listening while you told him about what had transpired in the garden earlier and how your seidr had reacted when you’d fought Brock off. 

“Loki was right,” he noted, passing you a slice of bread from the tray. “It was lucky Amora was off the grounds when that happened. She would have noticed and retaliated immediately.”

You hummed to yourself, dipping the corner of the bread into the stew and taking a small nibble. 

He could tell you were still out of sorts, the fresh exchange with Brock having come so unexpectedly and traumatically. More than anything, he wished he didn’t have to do what happened next. 

“Here,” he finally relented when you barely touched your meal, pulling the tray aside and out of the way. “You should sleep.” 

“I’ve rested plenty,” you protested, but after a pause, gave in and snuggled deeper into your blankets. 

“I’ve got something that should help,” he pulled out the small glass vial, holding it between his fingers for you to examine. The liquid inside shimmered an almost stunning cobalt blue against the light from your fireplace.

“A sleeping draught?” you guessed, reaching for the vial and examining it for yourself. 

“Not quite a sleeping draught,” he explained, plucking the cork free and letting you give the scentless liquid a sniff. “It’ll relax you enough to let you ease into a full and restful sleep.”

“So, a sleeping draught?” you teased with a small grin, swirling the liquid in the bottle with a tilt of your hand.. 

“Call it what you’d like, but it’ll help. You just drink the whole vial,” he instructed, watching you consider it briefly. 

“Am I going to fall into an eternal enchanted sleep?” you asked, joking, but unaware of how close to the truth you were. “Like the old stories?” 

“It won’t be eternal,” he assured you with a forced chuckle, settling his hands at his side so you wouldn’t see him shaking. This was it. The most crucial part of the plan. “You’ll wake with a full night’s rest. It’ll help you feel a little better.”

“At least that’ll help me face him tomorrow,” you murmured, swallowing the contents of the vial in a single gulp. You let out a yawn. “Don’t leave until... sleep..?” 

Your eyes were already fluttering shut and he plucked the bottle out of your hand before it broke on the ground. 

“Stephen?” you asked again, voice laced with sleepiness. “I love you.”

“And I you, princess,” he choked out, standing and pressing a final kiss to your head. “Please know I do this all out of love.”

You mumbled something incoherent before your body fell unnaturally still, the potions effects quickly taking over. 

He had to work fast. Waving his hands over your body, he changed your night dress to the outfit you’d worn earlier with Brock. 

The image made him sick. Your skirt was covered in blood, the corset nearly ripped off your frame- fortunately, your recent tears had swollen your face and reddened it more.

He positioned you delicately above the blankets, draping your hand over the edge of the bed and wrapping the vial carefully in your slack fingers. 

He dug through your nearby desk for some parchment and enchanted a quill to mimic your handwriting. A final goodbye, as far as anyone was concerned.

After all, the events had been so traumatic to you, you’d raided Stephen’s observatory and crafted a deadly poison to kill yourself. 

And aside from him, Tony, Loki, and Wanda- everyone would think it was effective, in turn, removing you from harms way while the castle was reclaimed.

Not even Peter nor Natalia was privy to what he and his fellow magic users had planned. 

Once the coast was clear and your body was taken to the family tomb, Wanda would bring you back to his ancestral home, now occupied by your father’s rebel army. 

Stephen couldn’t imagine you were going to be pleased with his dishonesty, particularly after drugging you and keeping your father’s survival to himself, but at least you’d be safe. 

And in the end, that’s all that mattered. 

Satisfied with the scene he’d crafted, Stephen removed the dining tray with a wave of his hand and portaled outside of the kitchens where he intercepted your personal maid, Violet. 

“The princess is unwell,” he explained, letting the princess expression of solemn sympathy flash across her features. “Could you bring her a tray for dinner?”

No one would know he’d crossed your path, and Amora would be too focused on healing Brock to notice any non-seidr magical ongoings around the castle. 

Excusing himself to his own quarters, Stephen cleaned himself up for dinner... and a show. 

(—)

“The princess-!” he heard Clint call into the dining room that evening. Pepper had excused herself from the meal to tend to the suddenly ill with pox, Princess Morgan. 

Brock had the audacity to actually join the group, with Amora smiling dutifully at his side while he and Obadiah discussed trade routes. 

Loki and Thor had graciously accepted the kings invitation, and as usual, Stephen was in his place next to Peter. 

“What is it?” Obadiah demanded sharply. 

“She’s-,” he paused looking to Brock with unease. “Your majesty, the princess has killed herself.”

Stephen waited until someone else reacted first, putting on the most confused and dismayed expression he could manage. 

“Take me to her,” he demanded with Peter hot on his footsteps.

Sure enough, you were still laying in bed. Someone (probably Violet) had folded your hands over your chest delicately, and placed the empty vial next to your note. 

Stephen made a show of checking you for signs of life, even offering Amora a chance to give a second opinion. 

Fortunately, he was that good at what he did. 

The potion mimicked the effects of death so well, even the enchantress was shocked by the sudden turn of events. He could tell she was trying to feel out any signs of your seidr, but after a brief pause, turned to confirm the truth to her king. 

Loki hissed a curse under his breath and turned on Brock, knife in hand, pressing the cowering king against the wall, demanding justice for the premature death of his bride. 

Peter, for his part remained composed. He ordered that he be the one to inform the queen, and parted with his fists clenched at his sides and his eyes filled with fire. 

“This is... a tragedy,” Obadiah knelt by your bedside, nudging Stephen aside and taking your hand into his. “So young and just before her wedding. A cruel circumstance of the fates!”

Stephen could have sworn he heard Loki snort at the dramatic scene the king was putting forth. 

Thor had managed to pry the prince and king apart, demanding Amora  “remove the villain from his sight before he changed his mind”, leaving the two Asgardian princes, Stephen, and Obadiah alone in the chamber.

“Is there no saving her?” the king asked quietly, looking up to Stephen with a desperate frown. “I know what she was to you. Tell me, is there truly no hope?”

Stephen cleared his throat, letting a slight break in his voice crackle as he spoke. 

“My grace, I’m familiar with the poison, and Enchantress Amora will confirm my words,” he looked down at you with a heartbroken sigh. “The princess was well aware of the potion she was consuming. There is no return. My most sincere apologies for your loss, your highness.”

Obadiah nodded to himself, standing back up. 

“Then the kingdom goes into mourning,” he stated decidedly. “Alert the priests, and have the maids prepare her for viewing.”

He looked at the Odinson brothers, a small sneer tugging at his expression. 

“Perhaps we can renegotiate our trade deal,” he suggested, earning a snarl of insults from Thor. 

The room now empty and the door closed while maids and servants scurried about with the news outside, the two sorcerers exchanged a look. 

“You did well, the effects are convincing,” Loki lifted your arm and let it drop to the bed. “You’ve accounted for rigor mortis?” 

“Brother?” Thor stepped forward, lips pressed together tightly as he took in the exchange. “Surely this isn’t another of your tricks?”

“Of course not,” Stephen waved a glowing hand over your body, a small spell that would mimic the effects of rigor mortis, and eventually wear off as the natural sensation would in time. “This trick is mine.”

He repositioned your hand delicately over your chest. 

“Is the princess... asleep?” Thor lowered his voice. 

“In a sense,” Loki patted his brothers arm. “Keep it to yourself, brother. We need Peter’s fury if this is to go as planned.”

“But she’ll be moved to the crypt-,” Thor started and paused, a knowing smile on his face. “I see. Let me know if I can be of assistance.”

The door swung open and Pepper swept inside with a quiet, red haired, maid behind her. 

“The loss is truly a tragedy of our time,” Thor continued, putting on a better performance than Loki and Stephen combined. “The beast that pushed this beautiful maid to an early grave must face justice!” 

He slammed a fist against your armoire, meeting Peter’s gaze with a passionate nod when the prince reappeared to comfort his mother. 

“Morgan can’t know until the morning,” Pepper stated, her eyes were wide in horro, her voice wavering. “I want that man out of my home.”

She looked between Thor, Loki, and Peter, the men nodding curtly and excusing themselves from the space. 

“Stephen, dear Stephen,” Pepper took his hand. “I’m sorry.”

It was a genuine reaction that, admittedly, startled the sorcerer. He’d had suspicions that the queen had known about the two of you- and you’d as much confirmed them earlier in the evening- but the way she looked to him with such earnest sympathy made him realize something. 

The queen had stood in his very place not even a few months prior. 

She too, had lost the love of her life to senseless violence at the hands of King Brock Rumlow. 

It was no wonder she wanted the king out of her sight. 

“If it’s comfort to know, it was painless and peaceful,” he mumbled with a nod toward the vial. “She fell asleep and felt nothing.”

“That will bring me some peace,” Pepper murmured, eyes returning to your still form. “Thank you.”

She reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze before asking that she be left alone with you for a few moments to mourn. 

“Take the time you need,” he stated softly, managing to blink back tears in his own eyes. 

Leaving the room, the countdown began. 

You’d be awake in four days, and he needed to ensure you were out in the family crypt and removed to safety in that time. 

Loki would prod Peter to remove Brock by force, and depending on how the king responded, would likely expedite any funeral plans for you. 

Who would have time to mourn when the castle descended into chaos? 

The queen and younger princess would be removed for their safety and then the real challenge began. 

Getting Peter onto the throne.

“Did you know she would do this?” Natalia asked, pulling Stephen aside after leaving the queen. She caught tugged on his arm furiously. “Stephen, look at me!”

Natalia would be the most difficult to convince. He knew it from the beginning. She was your oldest friend and most trusted confidant. 

“I... she assured me she was going to be fine,” he kept his eyes low, guilty even, if she looked at him too carefully. “We spoke briefly after Loki had informed me... I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight. She’s said she’d wanted to rest.”

“And then you asked Violet to bring her a meal?” Natalia questioned, eyes narrowing. “It’s not like you to leave the princess behind when she’s distressed.”

“I don’t think she was particularly pleased with my gender at the time,” he shot back. “Please excuse me, I’d like some time alone with my thoughts.”

He parted abruptly, praying to himself that Natalia wouldn’t dig around too deeply and ruin this whole charade. 

(—)

Across the kingdom, just outside of the House Strange keep, Wanda lightly touched Tony’s shoulder, eyes glowing bright crimson. 

“It’s happened,” she informed him. “The dawn truly brings a new day.”

“And a new king,” Tony grunted. “I just hope Peter is ready.”

(--)

10 - a trick

TAG LIST (message to be added!):

@ayamenimthiriel @ladynothing​ @im-a-bi-disaster-help​ @idkwhatthisislol

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3: So what do we do now? (or the fluffy chapter to the previous angsty one)

Link awoke and immediately questioned it, because he felt like he was still dreaming, in a Castle Courtyard where, as a child he’d snuck through a small canal to get in to see the Princess, and as an adult he’d waltzed in as Captain of the Guards. Because he could hear her lullaby. It had been so long… He slowly opened his eyes, disorientated because he was staring into the familiar vivid green eyes of His Princess, not the blue of other, so she wasn’t her, and he wasn’t him, but the lullaby? And she was smiling at him, albeit weakly. What- smiling? His Princess? At him?! What had happened?

There was more to add to his confusion though, because she was humming. She was the one humming the lullaby, but it wrong, because it wasn’t her lullaby, but really who was he to say otherwise, it probably was the lullaby for all the Princesses named Zelda. It- it was achingly familiar, but disturbing because all the times felt wrong and messed up. This wasn’t his, this wasn’t meant to comfort him, but it was anyway.

But why was he –

He blinked, waking up properly this time. He suddenly realised where he was exactly. He was in the Princess of Hyrule’s lap. His head was resting on her thighs. She was stroking his hair. His ponytail was gone. She was humming her lullaby to him. And she wasn’t angry at him.

Everything about this situation screamed wrong.

And then it all came hurtling back, and Link felt like he’d been stabbed all over with those darts the Yiga had aimed at her stomach. They’d been captured by the Yiga. Goddesses above. He rapidly sat up and felt a burst of pain all the way across his right shoulder and down his arm, and his vision swam, from the remaining drug in his system or from the pain he didn’t know.

“Link! Don’t get up so fast you-”

She gently pulled on his good arm, and he didn’t put up much resistance, mainly because it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He felt so disjointed, and he knew this was wrong, but he wasn’t feeling well enough to protest.

And okay, maybe he was a little glad she didn’t seem to hate him anymore. Just a little.

He raised his eyebrows at her, hoping she’d understand. She did. “After they drugged you asleep, because I guess they figured they’d never beat you otherwise, they did the same for me- I got caught barely a few metres from where you fell. And then I presume we both got carted to their Hideout. I woke up before you because I had a lower dose, and I, um, well.”

She awkwardly pointed to his right shoulder. “You know, I’m no Mipha, and it’s not like we have any healing resources, but I needed to close your wound in case it got infected- I believe they wrenched the sickle out of you before they dumped us in here. And I thought it best to at least try to sew it together whilst you were asleep and couldn’t feel much. It, went well, surprisingly- you didn’t bleed excessively considering they removed the object that was effectively acting as a tamponade, but I think because it landed squarely in your trapezius, it didn’t hit any major blood supplies, thankfully. I cleaned it as best as I could. And it was a good thing I had my mini sewing supplies in my pocket, Urbosa’s skirt had a small cut she wanted me to- uh- never mind. It was lucky that I forgot to put the kit in my pouch, which they took so.”

She paused, “Anyway, just as I put in the last stitch, thinking I could, maybe, relax a little, you started to thrash around, flailing all your limbs everywhere. With hindsight, I think the draught was fading by that point…” She took a short, sharp breath, “And I obviously couldn’t risk you ripping the wound open so in an attempt to calm you I held your head down and started humming and it, uh, worked. So that is why. I was. Doing that.” She fisted her hands awkwardly, bunching the material of her shirt in her hands, between her fractured phrases. Her eyes flittered around, looking everywhere but him. “And I didn’t want you to open that wound again, we don’t have many supplies so, so I guided you to lie down again.” She was clearly uncomfortable. And was that- Farore. She was blushing, he realised. Because of him.

That felt incredibly wrong, no Princess should ever blush at her Knight, so he readied himself to move off her and give her some much needed space.

He nodded, putting her out of her misery before sitting up much more slowly this time. He looked over his shoulder trying to see how bad the wound was, but she’d done an excellent job in sewing him up. Perhaps the embroidery skills she’d learnt were amenable to medical stiches too. He scooted away from her, trying to clear his head a little, and forget how comfortable it felt. How much he’d enjoyed her deft fingers working through his hair. How she'd still smelled of lavender, honey and just a hint of Gerudo spice –

He shook his head, clearly, he was still somewhat delusional following the heady sleeping draught. He needed to apologise to her and he needed to try to find a way to get out. He suddenly remembered her neck, and he dashed over, scanning across her whole body quickly, trying to see if she was okay and if any other wounds had been inflicted on her whilst he was asleep.

“Link!”

What? He had to- why was she bending her neck? He could guess why, and his gut twisted on itself. He’d let her get hurt. He hesitantly raised his hand, and placed it close to her chin, not quite touching, but Zelda tracked his movement and slowly nodded. He ever so gently touched the tips of his fingertips onto her jaw, and pressed upwards and she elongated her neck in compliance.

He gasped. She’d wiped it down, but there was a red, clearly inflamed, scabbed over, curved, line across her neck. He screwed his eyes shut, half wanting to throw up, even though he knew he had nothing in his stomach. He couldn’t look at her, this was his fault, he’d allowed her to get hurt. Some Appointed Knight he was.

He was so lost in cursing himself and his inability to protect her that he missed her hand moving and pressing down on his own, still softly holding her jaw. His eyes flew open at that, but he still couldn’t meet her gaze, looking everywhere but her. “Link.” He knew what she was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. It was his fault.

“Link, look at me.”

He couldn’t deny an order from his Princess.

“It wasn’t your fault. You were not the one to draw the sickle against me, okay?” He reluctantly nodded, seeing where she was coming from. “If anything, it was mine for running away. And I should be the one apologising, because you got hurt- and your wound is much more severe compared to this simple scab that will heal with time. And that’s notwithstanding the whole infection risk of using embroidery thread and not actual medical sutures.”

She sighed, patting the ground next to her. He reluctantly let go of her and sat down as she wished, his vision swirled a little, from all the abrupt movement.

She fiddled with her fingers, before turning to him, a determined look in her eyes. “I truly am sorry Link. For- for everything. From running away all those times, to being childishly jealous of you and your success, to… even shouting at you.” She sighed, “Not to mention taking out all my petty frustrations on you, whilst you were only trying to do your job. For, well, letting you get hurt because of me. For ending up here…” She shoved her head in her hands. “Goddesses above, the list never ends. I-”

Her voice went quiet. “I apologise, Link, for not being the Princess you deserve.”

He was shocked. He hadn’t been expecting that to say the least. Words had never been his forte, so he did the best he could.

He tenderly tilted her head towards him, and then shook his head. The vulnerability he saw in those verdant eyes struck him. She was serious, she genuinely regretted it, and he tried to smile reassuringly. How could he ever remain upset with her anyway? Not when he understood and related to her so well.

He placed his other hand on his heart and bent his head towards her. “You accept? No, you forgive me? So easily? No, I insist you give some punishment Link.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he raised both hands up, shrugging slightly. He was never one for punishments and he forgave her, because he understood, he truly did. He just needed to think through his words, and he’d tell her properly.

“You're too kind. I'll find a way, to earn my forgiveness, even if you've already accepted. Although... perhaps being here is punishment enough.” She hugged her knees to her chest, and he closed his eyes for a second, just trying to get his bearings. He still felt dizzy and sitting up so fast as soon as he had woken up, and then rushing to Zelda to look over her had not helped matters. Most likely, this was due to a side effect from inhaling such a high concentration of the drought. He’d have to wait for a bit before moving again, and he spread his palms out on the ground next to his thighs to try to get over the remaining queasiness, keeping his eyes shut so he wouldn’t be further disorientated.

He felt her slip her hand just next to his, her pinkie finger barely touching his thumb.

And Link felt his heart speed up a little. He couldn’t help but feel pleased they’d finally made some progress and were no longer at odds with each other. For the first time, the silence that descended on them was a comfortable one, not fraught with tension like every other time they’d been left alone together. And for that, he was immeasurably glad.

After taking a few minutes to recover his bearings, Link slowly opened his eyes, and was pleased to find his world was not tilting on its axis. He took several deep breaths, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his shoulder.

Okay. He was ready now, to start thinking of a plan.

He motioned for Zelda to wait as he heaved himself to stand, very slowly. And nothing happened, everything was still balanced. Good. He headed over to the bars, first, before realising they were made, in fact, of fairly hardy steel and it wasn’t at all rusted. There would be no hope of breaking them directly, not by hand anyway. And where was the door? He belated realised the metal on one side was different to the others. It was darker in shade. He flicked his index finger at it, but it came back just as hard and resonant. Well. Clearly whatever it was wouldn’t be easy to break either. He tried to stemmy the rising panic when thinking about how the hell they were supposed to break out. He moved to the bottom of the bars, but it became rapidly obvious to him that the mongrels had drilled the bars a significant distance down, too low for them to try to dig out. She shuffled over.

“I had a quick check over the cell too, before, I um, realised that you were hurt. They sort of left you with your back to the wall, so I didn’t actually see the bleeding until I got up close and- well. You know the rest of it. There really isn’t much other than the toilet in the next cell that we can go into.” His eyes lit up, “But no, it’s the exact same thing as this one. More bars, just with a curtain for decency I guess.”

He decided to check everything anyway. Alas, it was an airtight cell. There wasn’t a single thing they could manipulate. Clearly the Yiga had been planning for this.

He cast his eyes out, looking beyond the bars and realised that it in fact looked out to what seemed to be a gigantic circular hole in the sand. The landscape itself naturally moulded into a giant cylinder, perfect to keep the Yiga hidden, and impossible for them to climb out without being seen. If they could even get out of the cell to begin with. Although, eerily, everything seemed quiet.

He turned back to Zelda, motioning to the space outside and then pointing to the banana symbol engraved in the wall. “I found it surprising too. I have no idea where they’ve gone. It’s all very calm. I’m not sure why... Well, this sounds morbid, but I don’t understand why they’ve kept me alive. Surely their intention was to assassinate, and yet, now we’re locked up, and they haven’t come yet. Although I can only assume this is a good thing, time to plan an escape… maybe… well hopefully, anyway.”

He fought a smile off his face. She always did talk too much. Perhaps that was a good thing though, it balanced him out quite nicely.

He sighed, moving to sit down again, it was best to conserve his strength. And looking at the red lanterns and those weird orange wooden planks linked to each other was freaking him out a little. He wasn't sure what the symbolism was, but he was wary. There wasn’t much else they could do, other than wait for one of the Yiga to come, and make the mistake of opening the door, then Link would go into hand combat, and they would have to scale the cliff out of the here. The section to the right actually appeared the least steep, so hopefully Zelda would be able to manage that. However, he could see the snow from here and that meant there was risk of hypothermia, and they didn't have their normal stock of elixirs. Goddesses above, his head hurt from thinking through all the ways this could go wrong.

“You’re looking at the end cliff face. Do you think-”

He nodded.

“I think I can do it. Will you be okay with your wound?”

He nodded again.

She exhaled heavily, coming to sit down next to him. “The chance of a rescue team coming to find us is also depressingly slim, at the minute, because according to Urbosa, we’ve left the desert. According to my father, we’re in the process of travelling to the Spring of Power, and whilst we’re in the vicinity we’re supposed to go visit Daruk again to see if he’s has any progress with controlling Vah Rudania. Therefore, we are not due back at the Castle for another three weeks at least to account for travel time, so he won’t be suspicious of our continued absence. And Daruk thinks were going to Spring first and I don’t think he knows that you are only supposed to stay a day there- he might assume I’ve succeeded and so stayed for longer, or even that we were delayed in Gerudo Town…”

He nodded. Basically, all that meant external help was not coming any time soon.

“How long do you think it’ll take them to realise we’ve been captured?”

He thought about it for a few seconds. It would take at least another two weeks for Daruk to realise something was up, and by the time he relayed that over to Urbosa and the King, it will have been at least three. And then they still needed to search over Hyrule as to where exactly the Princess and Link were, before tracking them down to the Kara Kara Bazaar Inn, and hopefully realising they were, in fact, abducted by the Yiga Clan. And as to the actual rescue itself, he doubted it would take more than a couple of days simply because it involved the Princess and the Hero - the two people who were truly capable of fighting the ever-approaching evil. So overall that was what? Four and a half weeks?

He held up four fingers. Best to not dash her hopes too much.

“Hylia above! A month?!” She slumped against the wall. “I can see why though. It- it’s just so inconvenient that we decided to combine three separate outings into one. And that is why no one will actually realise we are in trouble.”

Link didn’t point out that this was, in fact, a common occurrence. The Princess often fabricated another couple of reasons to delay going back the Castle. He understood why of course. Facing her father with repeated failures was hard and being out in Hyrule meant she could at least be of some use in terms of her research. Frankly, if he’d been in her position, he would have done the same.

“Another thing that I didn’t mention before, but you should probably know, is that they took the Sheikah Slate.”

Oh crap. Purah would kill them both, but she’d go all out on Link, fond as she was of Princess Zelda. She’d skewer him alive and then Robbie would sprinkle on his various guardian parts on top for seasoning and the two of them would roast him slowly for committing such a crime. And then they’d recover the guardian parts because those were precious and were not likely to burn, unlike his mortal form, into ashes anyway. Why was thinking of this and how did he come up with this much detail?

He must have had a look of apt horror on his face because she chuckled slightly, “Yes, I know. Even if we survive this whole abduction, we will probably not live for long afterwards.”

He shook his head. No, they would survive. He would make sure of it. She smiled a little in response.

Something was unsettling him though. It felt like a there was a gnawing hole inside him. At first he thought it was because of Zelda getting hurt, and then because of his dizziness but it suddenly hit him what was missing. His heart skipped a beat in fear. He glanced over, looking at his shoulder again, in vain because he knew it was empty and the confirmation terrified him. He looked at her with wide eyes, not daring to think of the implications. “I- I don’t actually know what happened to the Master Sword, Link, it was – um, in that Yiga’s head and then I was knocked out. I don’t know if they took it, or left it behind…”

And there went Link’s last hope of killing the darkness.

[the-darklings]

I have one thought (and only one). S/V vampireAU. She wakes up, hears haunting piano music, walks around and finds S, and they dance to it ughhhh I swoon. Just the two dancing alone to piano and not saying anything just dancing. Like the scene in Pride and Prejudice (2004 duh) when they dance and suddenly the room is empty and it’s just Elizabeth and Darcy. I’m a fool for vamp Santino

𝙑𝘼𝙈𝙋𝙄𝙍𝙀!𝘼𝙐: | 01 | 02 | 2.5 | 03 | 3.5 |

wc: 2k+

.

Music.

A soft, sorrowful tune echoes from somewhere in the far distance when you come around. 

It fills the room with muted melancholy and you rise from the familiar soft sheets, frowning in confusion.

The vast space is empty. 

Glancing around, you look towards the slightly ajar door and feel your mouth tilt downwards. The vampire prince that usually greets you with silky words is nowhere to be found. 

The sombre music flows through the parted door and your head slants towards the noise.

Arching your back, you rise to your feet, wary. 

This is new, and you don’t trust it. 

There are no signs of Santino anywhere, and you head towards the sound of the music, your bare feet padding against the cold stone. 

You have no weapons on you but you don’t need them, either. 

Not when you are a weapon forged by years of careful honing.

If Santino thinks that he can play some sick little game with you, then he has another thing coming. 

The hallways are cold and dark. Completely different from Santino’s room that always drowns in golden light and warmth.  

Still, the tune guides you, pulls on something in your chest, and the holy runes on your back tingle—not painful for once. 

The melody is so delicate, flowing as it swells and recedes, yet so sad you’re not quite sure how to feel. 

It takes another several moments of aimless wondering before you locate the origins of the music. 

It’s another large, open space but barren of any furniture aside from a massive, sparkling chandelier that hangs over the room like a protective sentinel. The fireplace stands unlit, empty, and your eyes locate the piano creating the divine music in the corner of the room. 

As expected. 

The vampire prince sits behind the piano with his back facing you, and you see his hands caress the ivory keys delicately. There is a familiarity in the way those long fingers dance and journey over the keys.

Something about the sight of him freezes your feet at the doorway though. 

The golden prince is not so golden anymore.

He sits in the darkness, fully clothed—certainly the most he’s worn since your very first meeting all those months ago—and shoulders curved.

You step closer, your eyebrows knitting as you observe him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he drawls, not turning or pausing in his playing. The melody grows softer, however, a bit lighter. If you didn’t know any better, you would say it’s in response to your presence. “This is not a good time, amore.”

A prickle of anger gnaws on your bones and this time your steps are surer, more deliberate. 

“You pull me into these dreams every night and you have the nerve—”

“I did not call you here,” he interrupts promptly, his voice tenser than usual, and you halt several feet away from him. The melody grows harsher, flowing in biting quick notes that stab into your skin like a hundred little needles. “You found your way here on your own.”

The fact that he thinks so either makes him stupid or ridiculously arrogant. As if you would want to willingly spend time with him. 

Your lips part—a sharp retort burning on your tongue—and that’s when you see it. 

His hands—

They’re scarred. Pink, raw burns litter every inch of his hands and you feel a strangled breathe escape you.

He’s one of the most powerful vampires still alive. Santino D'Antonio comes from one of the purest blooded families in the world. The mere thought of something being able to harm him like this and for him to not immediately heal, to instead scar is—

“Tell me, my beautiful hunter,” he muses softly and you flinch at the sound of his voice. He sounds quiet, you realise then. More withdrawn. His voice lacks the sweetened poison that usually accompanies his interactions with you. “Do you know how to dance? Or did your church strip your heart of everything but hatred, hm?”

You don’t answer. 

Your tongue feels heavy and dry and stuck to the roof of your mouth. You want to ask. Then remind yourself that you should not care.

He is the enemy but—

But. 

He still hasn’t looked at you—not even once. 

The very same vampire who always repeats how much he enjoys looking at you, how attractive he finds you. 

“I do.”

It’s a strangled, weak reply but the vampire pauses in his playing and you watch those gruesome scars. You have plenty of scars of your own—so many, in fact, that you’ve lost count. But vampires are perfect predators and now you understand why he said that this might not have been a good time. 

Have you truly found yourself here on your own will? What brought you here? Why now?

In a blink, he’s before you and you tense despite yourself, still not used to his speed. 

You’re fast. He’s blinding. 

His face though…

You don’t think you have ever seen a vampire look drained before, worn. Dark bruises sit under his eyes and you frown at him.

This is nothing like the haughty, seductive male you know. 

He reaches out, offering his arm to you silently and your lips part. “Would you care for a dance, then?”

The music, you realise, is still filling the air even though he is no longer the one playing. 

“How—”

His lips twitch slightly; a flicker of his old self back for several seconds before it fades. “Ah, reality and dreams often overlap, amore. A great many things are possible here. Would you do me the honour?“  

His brutally scarred hand still hangs as an offering between you. That once smooth, golden skin of his looks inflamed and poorly healed. Thick lines of skin have coiled into ribbons of scars as if his hands were shredded—

You take it, grasping it carefully in your own. Your eyes narrow on his expression, gauging how much pain it might be causing him.

He only grins faintly in response, tugging you closer and you’re tense as a bowstring, every inch of you terribly aware of his touch. 

It’s not much of a dance with how rigid you are but still, he seems content, lighter. You’re swaying awkwardly from side to side at best but he looks down at you as if an answer to some question you’re not aware of has arrived. 

“What happened to your hands?“ 

You can’t help but ask—can’t help but wonder what could be powerful enough to damage someone like him. Why he didn’t doge or escape or kill the threat. 

Something flickers across his features; the slightest of shifts before it’s gone in a blink. 

His eyes flutter shut for a moment and his lips tug upwards.

”Worried?“ he wonders with a slight grin, his demeanour more buoyant. 

Ignoring the textured feeling of his fingers pressing into yours, you slant your head back, giving him a flat look. The piano music floats around you both and you don’t answer him right away.

"I daydream about you rotting in the dirt,” you reassure him sweetly. 

Santino’s head slants backwards and he chuckles, a flash of teeth appearing as you shift, searching for fangs that you do not see. 

“Three months ago you tried to kill me, amore, now we are dancing,” he says, some of that familiar slyness bleeding back into his voice, and his fingers squeeze around your own. Your palm tingles and you scowl at him. “Give it another three months and you might even let me kiss you.”

Heat burns down your back at that mild suggestion. The Holy Text carved into your skin itches again but the heat is more prominent this time. The lack of usual pain is surprising though. You’re so used to agony when it comes to that holy power in your veins that anything aside that feels…surreal. 

“But if you are indeed worried about me, cara,” the vampire prince speaks and tries to direct you in a more elaborate dance. “Then I must ease your mind. I was only testing a theory. It will heal.”

“What kind of theory?”

To do so much damage…

The vampire slants his head closer abruptly and your feet halt at the proximity, tensing.  

“Tell me, bella, who taught you how to dance, hm?”

Leaning backwards, you allow your eyes to narrow, your lips pressing into a firm line.

He doesn’t deserve a response. 

As if you would allow anyone else but Jardani close enough to teach you. 

Those dark eyes, his low, soothing voice in your ear. His slight smile and a kiss against your mouth that would always turn ravenous.  

“You’re thinking about him.”

You blink, your lips parting at his shrewd, strained assessment. 

“How would you know?”

Your own voice is guarded, distrustful. 

You know that he knows about you and Jardani. He has admitted as much before—admitted that he could scent the Holy Hunter on you. Given your connection—given the intense love and passion you have for each other—it’s no wonder that he can. Not for a vampire. Vampires who can feel everything through blood and scent as acutely as humans can with their hearts. 

There is a reason why they prefer feeding during sex. Why blood drawn during the height of pleasure always tastes the sweetest and sustains them the longest.  

Those green eyes journey over your face slowly, seeking something.

“Your scent changes when you think about him,” he admits calmly and your heart flutters in your chest.

Trying and failing to swallow over the lump in your throat, you force out a tense, “My scent? How would you know? We’re in a dream.”

What comes from reality carries over into a dream but when inside the dream world, he should not be able to scent anything. 

The smug bastard of a vampire only smirks at you; a curl of his lips that’s both indulgent and mischievous, and you know he plans to tell you nothing.

So you tighten your grip on him, setting your jaw and try again, more insistent. 

“You said that they’re lying to me,” you prompt warily, watching him closely, and ignore the way he gazes at you, how he always gazes at you— “What did you mean by that? Lying about what?”

His jaw clenches and a darkness settles over his round features that has nothing to do with the shadows of the room. Nothing to do with the hazy darkness that makes up the dream world.

His lips part and then press them together again. His grip on you constricts for just a second—like he wants to keep you close but knows he can't—and you can’t help but think that he will finally give you what you want. 

“You’re not ready,” he says, at last, low and circumspect.

A snarl twitches your mouth, twists your expression into something fierce and resolute. 

“Don't assume—”

He jerks you closer till you’re practically chest to chest and your breaths slow when he leans so close you can count every mole and freckle marking his skin.

Neither of you is dancing, locked in a standstill, and the music has ceased as well.  

“It’s not because I don’t think you should know, cara mia,” he whispers lowly and his hand lifts to your face, cupping your cheek. You go still as death at the touch of that damaged, charred skin against yours. “It’s because if I told you now, you would only grow to resent me. Would think that I am lying to you on purpose, no?”

It’s hard to breathe but you still force your next words out, “Maybe I already resent you.”

His lips curve upwards, something less arrogant and more crooked and amused taking its place, and his thumb scrapes against the arch of your cheek. Lingering.

He seems more alive now that when you first found him and your confusion must show on your face. His eyes gleam as they flicker towards your lips. He leans closer— 

“Next time we meet,” he murmurs, a whisper of a breath burning against your parted lips. “Next time I get to see those eyes of yours, and you still want to know, amore mio, I will tell you.”

For the first time since you’ve met, he cleaves the tether between you first.

[chimtaera]

imagine prince jungkook.

adventure time! 

jungkook isn’t the crown prince so outside of his princely duties he can go questing! exploring! adventuring!

of course his family doesn’t really approve of his activities, but they’ve basically struck up a bargain that he’ll attend court and such without making a fuss, as long as he gets to run around when he isn’t needed.

of course he has protection with him, the court approved putting together a little adventure party, which is basically just all his best knight friends, i’m sure you can guess who.

these guys have been together most of their lives, always getting in trouble as kids, climbing what they shouldn’t be climbing, fighting what they shouldn’t be fighting, eating what they- ok you get my point.

imagine a seamstress running frantically around after jungkook before an event because he always tears his clothing somehow.

or being chased out the kitchen before a big banquet with flour in his hair.

everyone loves him though.

he’s the baby of the palace, everyone dotes on him and lets him get away with mischief, ‘cause it’s cute.

and the people down in the villages love him too.

they’re always excited to see him ride out on an adventure, or to see him coming back form a quest.

and he’s often invited in for a drink at the taverns, to tell stories from one of his quests.

and if there’s any loot he shares it, because he doesn’t actually need any of the gold and jewellery. 

boy is more likely to like, take a hedgehog he rescued with him as a pet, or like, keep a really round rock he found in a river when he stopped for water, than he is to hang onto any of the valuable stuff.

people in the tavern be like “ooh, look at all that gold.” and jungkook will be like “ok sure but guys this rock is so smooth, u gotta feel it.”

probably has separate room in the palace just for his adventure keepsakes, and he keeps it very organised and tidy.

oh and people write songs and poetry about jungkook and his brave knights’ many adventures, but the best songs are of course his own.

because, like any royal, jungkook is highly educated.

in everything from politic and war, to the arts.

and, like any good royal, he’s also a brilliant poet.

so how did you two meet? ok story time

you live in the woods somewhere far away, at the bottom of a mountain, just u and ur doggo.

you have a little cottage that’s been with your family in generations, it’s where you’ve grown up and you didn’t really know much else so you stayed. 

you travel to the nearest villages if you need something, about a day’s journey, but you’ve never felt very welcome. 

they’re not mean, it’s just- you’re an outsider, and an outsider you shall remain.

so your doggo wakes you up one morning and you’re like?? what is it

it’s clear the doggo has found something outside and desperately needs you to come see.

you’re like, did you find another baby bird that’s fallen out of its nest?? do i gotta raise a NOTHEr baby bird ?? istg

the answer is no, but also yes.

jungkook looks to be fast asleep in the moss and soft heather, he’s got a few scratches, but he’s got lovely pink nose and lips and seems quite healthy.

you gently prod him awake like, u ok my guy ?? you’re gonna catch a cold come have some tea.

he’s a little spooked at first, with his big round eyes snapping open to stare at you, rendering you a little speechless at first. 

but eventually you explain that you live here at the bottom of the mountain and that your dog just have smelled him because they woke you up to come find him.

doggo takes the opportunity to introduce themselves, you know, the way dogs do, and that’d the first time you hear jungkook giggle, and suddenly you understand what your grandma was warning you about when she said to stay away from the pretty boys.

you invite him to come warm himself in your cottage, you just put a log on the fire before going out, so it should be warming up by now.

he’s like umm uh sure

and you’re not sure why he’s so hesitant, you’re not a very intimidating figure even though you live in the woods by yourself.

but then as the two of you start making your way back to your cottage you start to realise he has some difficulty keeping up with you.

it’s dark, but you still se him grimace when you turn to look for him.

“oh no, you must be hurt!” how silly of you, why else would he be sleeping in the woods behind your house.

“ah, no it’s- i’m just, uh... yeah. okay, yes.”

turns out he’s twisted his ankle falling from his horse, and the way down the mountain in the night has only made it worse.

you help support him the rest of the way back, much to his embarrassment.

as you sit him by the fire and make tea and a little breakfast he explains that he was on his way back home from his quest when he lost his companions, and later his horse when it got spooked. 

when he finally got to the bottom of the mountain, which had taken him almost all night, he was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as he sat down to rest a little.

he seems a little embarrassed, so you tell him it’s the sort of thing that could happen to anyone, and maybe you tell him that story about how you fell down the mountain as a child and almost scared your grandmother to death, but by some miracle you survived with barely a scratch. 

anyway, he’s lucky you found him.

jungkook asks how far the nearest village is. his friends will be looking for him and perhaps he can find a horse there, or send word of his whereabouts.

you tell him it’s about a day’s walk and he’s not going anywhere on his ankle, it needs at least a few days rest, but he’s welcome to stay with you in the meanwhile.

in that case his friends will probably go back home, and gather a party to come search for him, it might take a few days.

again, he’s embarrassed but very thankful, and you find it adorable.

he is very cute actually.

like super handsome, he’s tall and seems strong, he’s so well-spoken and well-mannered he seems almost otherworldly to you, but he has a shyness to him, and a playfulness, and the way he takes everything in with his wide, enthusiastic eyes really adds to his boyish charm.

as the sun comes up you get some water so he can wash up, and help clean the scratches on his face and neck.

he’s actually?? so pretty ?? it’s very distracting, you’ve never seen anyone that looks like this and especially when he blushes wow

you think it’s just because he’s embarrassed, but in actuality it’s because you’re really close and kinda very cute and you smell so nice?? like earthy and warm and dried flowers and herbs.

you spend your day like you usually would, but with jungkook helping out where he can, like chopping wood because he can do that seated.

and it’s so nice to have his company tbh, you two talk about everything and nothing, and in the evening you make dinner, and sit by the fire in the dark.

and that’s when he starts humming.

and you’re like?? omg what is this

you’ve only ever heard your grandmother sing, or like drunk people in taverns, and you only know a handful of songs so this is new!!!

you ask him to sing for you, and he’s a little flustered but he does so gladly.

and it’s a m a z i n g omg let me tell you

imagine sitting by the fire? in a little cottage miles away from anything? cozied up with your doggo and a cup of tea? and jungkook? singing? songs about epic battles and tragic romances and awesome adventures?

you make him sing every song he knows and eventually you ask to hear some of them again, and you two sit up sooo late sharing songs and stories.

jungkook never mentions he’s a prince though.

you let him have the bed and sleep in a chair by the fire that night, although it takes a while to convince him.

another day goes by like that, and you’ve come to really enjoy his company.

you know he has to leave, but you know it’s going to be strange to be so alone again when he does, and you find yourself wishing he could stay forever.

you were never discontent with your life, but you realise you like sharing it with someone.

that night he insists you sleep in the bed, and after a little arguing you agree, but only if he'll sleep in it too.

and he’s very flustered but he agrees and you pretend you’re not flustered too.

you two sat up until late again, talking and singing, but it’s hard to fall asleep with all the butterflies in your stomach, and he smells so nice??

like, you don’t know what expensive smells like. 

but that’s what he smells like. 

just the lingering remains of exotic spices and perfumed oils.

it’s really nice to wake up next to jungkook.

like, really, really nice. 

like, your heart swells with warmth and fluff and it feels like it’s gonna burst or do a dance or something so you have to get out of bed, and only watch him sleep for a very brief minute.

at breakfast you notice that one of the scratches on his forehead looks a little inflamed, so you go out and pick some healing herbs while he chops more wood.

you’re both very quiet as you apply the paste you’ve made of the herbs to the cut.

he’s sitting in the chair, you standing over him, and watches you so closely with his shiny rounds eyes that it gets very hard to focus.

as you finish up you meet his gaze and find it impossible to pull away like you had intended to do.

without a word, like magnets, the two of you are drawn to one another and meet in a kiss.

carefully, he wraps his arms around you and scoops you into his lap, and you in turn wrap your arms around his shoulders and deepen the kiss.

and then the doggo barks.

you pull away from each other but can’t look away, just smiling shyly at one another for a moment before the dog barks again, and you decide you should probably check it out.

outside, you call the doggo and they appear through the trees, followed by jungkook’s search party.

you feel a little forlorn as they greet one another as old friends and you realise you will have to say goodbye to jungkook already. 

but you knew it would happen eventually, so you suck it up.

“are you ready to leave, your majesty?”

“your majesty?” because of course he is, i mean, look at him.

cat’s outta the bag.

jungkook realises all too late that he has to leave you too, and makes a hurried excuse that he has to fetch something inside, to get you alone.

once you’re alone he kisses you passionately and tells you in a rush that he’s a prince, that you are the most enchanting person he has ever met and that he will return to you as soon as he can, that while he is gone he leaves with heart with you.

and then he leaves.

and you don’t know this but when he comes home he writes many sonnets and sings many songs about you, and your little cottage in the woods, by the foot of the mountain.

so much so that he begins a whole new movement in literature, a genre idealising the simple life, chopping wood, gathering herbs in the woods and raising baby birds, all with the one you love, miles away from anyone or anything.

and when he comes back to see you he brings you a horse, so you can come and see him whenever you want.

[innaminitus]

Desires #5

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary:  Vanaheim needs allies and since you are the eldest daughter of its king, you are a victim of arranged marriage with one of Odin’s sons - Loki.

Chapter warnings: language

Chapter word count: 1774

A/N: if anyone knows how to fix tags so they all work ~please~ tell me. I probably won’t be posting till monday, because I’ll be at warsaw comic con. So I tried not to do cliffhanger. 

When you woke up Loki was already up and dressed, this time not giving you an opportunity to cuddle. You tried to smile at him, but somehow couldn’t. You felt sore. The pain reminded you of the lair and… You closed your eyes shut and buried your face in the pillow to smell familiar scent of your new home. You were safe. You were safe.

Even if the pain you still felt in between your legs was trying to convince you otherwise.

You didn’t know why you didn’t tell Loki about what happened. It wasn’t like you were the only one assaulted by the Marauders, on Vanaheim there had to be dozens of girls like you. You weren’t special. And yet, even the slightest thought of it made your insides twirl.

But they were dead now and you were alive.

“How are you?” Loki came over to you and kneeled on the floor.

You looked at him over the pillow and shrugged.

“Do I have to leave the bed today?” You murmured, the material muted your words.

Corner of his mouth moved a little, showing a crooked smile.

“No,” he sighed “but you should.”

You felt like crying at that moment and before you could think about what you were doing, you were grabbing his jacket and using your magic to pull him on the bed. He stiffened for a moment, but sighed and let you hug him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, needing to feel his heartbeat, to remember that your heart was still beating as well. He unsurely wrapped his arms around you as well.

“What is it?” He whispered.

You would never think that of all people you would feel safe with him.

“It hurts so much.” You broke. His warmth and the pain in your chest made you shed a single tear.

He froze. Literally. His skin became cold, cold and blueish. He gently pushed you away to look at your face.

“What did they do to you?” For just a second you could see lines on his face, but he quickly controlled himself.

You swallowed the gulp in your throat. Maybe you would feel better if you shared this? He would never tell anyone if you asked him not to.

“They…” You started, but your voice was knotted somewhere deep in your throat and you couldn’t make a word.

You pushed him away and slowly slipped the bedsheet off of you before rolling up your nightgown. You didn’t want to look, so you turned your gaze away. You knew what was there, looking worse and worse with every hour. Purple and yellow bruises blooming on your inner thighs and red, inflamed word cut in your skin.

Slut

Loki took a sharp breath. He lost control, his fingers dug into the mattress, when he couldn’t take his eyes of your thighs. You watched him, his beautiful blue skin when his Jotun form took over.

“Did they…” He couldn’t say anything more and didn’t have to.

“They tried,” you sighed. “My magic was strong enough to just… not let them.” You fixed your nightgown and turned to the side. “I am too weak to heal myself now, but the bruises will eventually go away. But the word… They used poisoned blade, I believe. It won’t disappear even when it heals.”

He clenched his teeth. You saw that his eyes were red and wondered if he noticed that he changed.

“Death was not enough for what they’ve done,” he spat out and grabbed your waist, pulling you closer. “I should’ve ripped their lungs out and make them eat them.”

You smirked.

“Or you could freeze them to death.”

He frowned and quickly looked at his hands. They began to turn beige.

“Sorry for that,” he sighed.

“Don’t be,” you whispered and raised your hand to touch disappearing lines on his face. “That’s you. Don’t hide from me.”

He hesitated for a moment, but hid his Jotun form and shook his head.

“I hate it.”

“I don’t.”

He just looked at you for a second with odd look in his eyes.

“You are too good for me,” he said so, so silently you could barely hear him.

You moved away a bit. His smile faded. He didn’t mean to say it, you could tell.

“What do you mean?”

You could swear he blushed. Oh, he so didn’t mean to say it.

“Nothing.” He tried to get up, but you pulled him back and sat on him, so he could not escape. A shadow of a smile flew through his face. “I just said it. It wasn’t true. I’m too good for you.”

You laughed and leaned closer.

“What did you mean?” Your elbows rested on his chest, your hands found themselves on his jaw.

He clenched his teeth and stopped breathing.

And just when you thought he wasn’t going to say anything-

“I’m falling for you.”

You just stared at him for a moment, not really believing you’ve actually heard him. He was heavy breathing, you could almost hear the beating of his heart, reminding you of racing horses. He was waiting for your answer and for the first time in your life you didn’t know what to say. Did you love him? Or did you just like his company?

Suddenly the weight of his confession made you unable to breathe. You quickly got up, releasing him. You kept opening and closing your mouth like a fish pulled out of the water. He raised himself on his elbows, expression of slight betrayal showed on his face for just a quarter of a second before he got up as well and fixed his clothing.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have duties,” he said silently, his voice lost all vitality it had.

He headed the door.

“Loki-“ You said quickly, but still didn’t know what to say. He turned to you with hope in his eyes. You were awful. The worst. You didn’t know how you felt, not for sure. You sighed. “Have a good day.”

He left without a word.

*

Days passed by and you didn’t talk to Loki at all. You only saw him during suppers, he moved back to his old bedroom.

You missed him more than you could admit it, but still couldn’t figure out whether it was a real feeling or not. Did you miss him, or did you miss these short moments when you felt safe in his arms? You didn’t know him enough to love him! Right?

You were training with Thor, but you were doing miserable. Eventually he sighed and put Mjolnir down.

“What is it, sister? You’re distracted today.”

You kicked some non-existent rock and sighed.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured and sat on the bench standing by the wall.

Thor joined you.

“Is it about my stupid brother?” He looked at you and you nodded. “Is he still not talking to you?”

“Yes…”

He shook his head.

“You don’t love him, so what? It’s an arranged marriage, you don’t have to love him.”

“But I should. I feel awful.” You hid your face in your hands.

Thor leaned and grabbed your fingers, pulling them out of your face.

“Marriages are not always happy. And I’ve seen a lot of them through my life.” He smiled slightly. “You can always have lovers. And so can he.”

You didn’t like the thought of that. You raised your head and looked at him. He was way closer than you expected.

“Wouldn’t that be awful?”

He smiled.

“Wouldn’t it be awful to spend the rest of your eternal life without loving anyone?”

Before you could do something about it, he leaned even closer and his lips touched yours. It surprised you so much you couldn’t move, but when the shock passed you parted your lips and deepened the kiss. His hand got lost in your hair, he pulled you closer. You leaned on him, searching for any kind of warmth, affection you lost because of your stupidity.

You were selfish. So selfish it made you nauseous.

You moved away from Thor and half a second later you heard a silent gasp. You shot your head to the direction of the door, just in time to see Loki turning away.

Fuck.

You run to him, but he was too fast, always a step ahead. You were foolish! Every cell of your body hated you now, your hands were itchy from the magic, tears in your eyes started to flow down your cheeks.

You reached him in the garden.

“Loki, stop!” You cried. “Please, listen to me.”

He turned angrily.

“What?! What do you want to say to me?!” He closed the distance between you. “That you can’t love me, because you love my brother?” He licked his bottom lip, his eyes were pure madness. “I can’t believe that I’m even surprised. He always gets what he wants-“

Your hand slapped his cheek so hard his head shot on the side.

“Listen to me!” You shouted. “I don’t love Thor!”

“Then why did you kiss him?!”

“Because you left me!” Tears of anger were running down your cheeks and chin. “You left me and I was alone!”

“So you had to kiss the first person that came to your mind?!”

You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t have the answer to that.

“I just want you back in my life.”

He was just looking at you, his hands were clenching and relaxing.

“You were the one who threw me out of it. I did everything for you. And in return you kissed my brother.”

Angrily you wiped the tears away.

“I’m sorry, alright? Just… come back to me.”

“No, it’s not alright. Just because you say you’re sorry won’t change what you did.” He was so hurt you could feel it.

You made a few shaky steps and placed your hands on his chest before looking him in the eye. His jaw was clenched.

“I miss you. I miss my husband.”

You realised that now. How stupid you were. It was so obvious and yet you couldn’t see it. You stood on your toes and pressed your lips onto his. He didn’t move.

“Please…” You whispered. “Let me fall in love with you.”

He squirmed silently, but his body was still tense. He leaned and gently placed his lips on yours. You felt such relief that you almost fell on the ground, but Loki was fast to hold you.

“It won’t be easy.” He raised his eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not like we can get divorce, right?” You laughed and still shaking his head, he kissed you again.

Tag list:  @3nmxnxt3r @arianna-17-11 @blue-sunset-oreo-lover@connor-of-detroit @darkprincessloki92 @fuckythebuckybarnes@frommywindow10 @ginnyweasleysscrunchie @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @jessiejunebug @just-another-loki-fangirl @kneel-before-queen-loki @lokislilslut @malanix @marvel-ous-fics@marvelrose @min-yoongi-my-love @myownviperroom@princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @renownedmeme@superdrysuperfry @terrainhead @vespirin @youare-mysonshine @stxcloudy @1800-fight-me @justasmisunderstoodasloki@inlovewithmrstark @itsmadness-97 @i-think-i-am-adorable@curiousershipper @orchidjjg @curiousershipper @i-think-i-m-adorable​  @curiousershipper​  @orchidjjg​ @captainstartights​ @bluestaratsunrise​ @been-falling-for-thirty-minutes 

[whumpqhs]

Whumptober #11. Stitches

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

"Get up."

Sonora groaned and sat up, swinging her legs to the floor. She'd been let loose from the restraints on the medical bed when the prisoner she’d been set to save had recovered, and while she was still kept in the same interrogation room much of the time, the "interviews" had gotten fewer, and further between. 

In their place were long sleepless nights, pressed into service as everything from a short-order lab tech to an emergency trauma surgeon to a burn specialist. Newly and critically wounded from the war, these prisoners were too high value to be allowed to die, and with new battles every day, the infirmary was struggling to keep up. She followed that familiar punchable face into the clean room, past all modesty by this point, and started changing into fresh scrubs and washing her hands. Next came the PPE, already laid out for her on a tray. No extras; nothing for her to sneak out. He trained the blaster on her as she pulled on her shoe covers and tied the apron around her legs.

It wasn't her first time scrubbing in at gunpoint, even before her capture, and it was very unlikely to be the last. But it wasn’t all bad: her bruises were healing, she was getting actual food… 

"Here, let me get that for you."

...and Keeper had become substantially less of an ass. She turned, giving him her back, and tucked her head down so he could tie the gown at the nape of her neck. 

"Thanks. Where are we?"

"OR 2." He followed behind her. His blaster was still aimed at the middle of her back, and it gave her the nerves, but she was getting used to it, in a way. Sometimes she could even forget about it, for a few seconds, or sometimes longer if he set it down, like he did now, passing it off to a guard standing at the doorway as he fixed her with a stern and serious glare. 

"Remember, Cipher--if he dies…"

"I go too. Yes. Can I do the timeout now?" She'd long since accepted that condition of the arrangement… and had moved on to making sure he understood that it no longer bothered her.

"Can y--? No. It's my turn to do the timeout." He shook his head. "You did it last time." 

Success, in the form of a petulant look from the elite SIS agent. 

"No, you did it. Remember? The exploratory lap?"

Greater success: for a moment, he scrunched his eyebrows together and frowned. "...oh yeah. I guess I did. Go on then."

Her smirk about being right--and making him admit it--was invisible behind her mask, fortunately. As she settled into the familiar rhythm of something she'd done so many times before, she could feel the tension and panic of being a prisoner melting away as, for a moment, she wasn’t a prisoner at all. She was herself again: a Cipher, a caregiver… 

"Alright, time out! Hands off the patient. This is prisoner F2975, thirty year old, Force blind, Zabrak male. We're doing a resection of damaged GI tissue with multiple sites, debridement of any necrotic tissue. Going in from the lower left quadrant, site is marked…" she checked the lines of body marker on his skin, "Patient is positioned supine, draped appropriately, intubated and anesthetized… do we all agree so far?"

Around her, the rest of the team nodded. She continued. "Skin prep looks like it's already been done. Ten blade, please."

The fact that Keeper willingly handed her a knife, scrubbed in and standing at her right, should have been a clue about how sure they were that she’d never make it out of here. But if she started thinking about that, she might make a mistake. Instead, she thought only of making the perfect incision, cutting at just the right angle, to just the right depth. Blood spilled out from behind the inflamed skin. She didn’t even need to call for suction; he was already working on it, moving it behind her blade and staying out of her way.

“You’re good at this.” 

“Thanks. I wanted to be a surgeon.” He offered her the retractor she’d been about to ask for. How did he know? “They make us get out after a certain amount of medical training, so I only got my RN. Not like the Empire.”

“How would you know about the Empire’s policies, hm?”

She’d had Cipher training, unlike the rest of the room, so even in her peripheral vision, she could see what they hopefully couldn’t: the flicker of surprise as he looked up at her and then quickly recovered--he was a spy too, after all--and smoothly replied, “I read your file when we captured you. Imperial Medical Board has you down with a stack of certificates and extra degrees as tall as I am. They should really stop using the same personnel numbers as Imperial Intelligence… that’s pretty much asking for trouble. Worked out pretty well for us, though.” He grinned at her and went back to working the suction as she slowly opened up the incision to see what they were dealing with.

“Ah. Well… I was a bit of a special case.”

“How’s that?”

“I’m not just a medical operative. They usually don’t get that much training… since they do a lot of field work. Theirs tends more toward strategy, tactics, search and rescue, that stuff.”

“Not you?” He passed in a hemostat when she put out her hand. 

“Not me. Ciphers are… different. I did most of my work in a hospital setting, like this one. Targets too highly classified to be given to regular medics. Important figures who were under threat and needed a trusted team… or who could make it worthwhile for Intelligence. We were the best in the Empire; and that meant we were constantly in demand.” Even now, she couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice. Being promoted had been the best day of her life.

“Huh. We don’t have that type of thing; at least not that I know of. Just Agents, Special Agents, like me…”

“If it’s one up from the typical agent rank, then it’s the same as Cipher--so… you and I would be the same, then.”

“Hey, watch it, Ron.” One of the nurses cut in. “No need to go giving her info.”

“Your name is Ron?” She stopped, with both hands in the patient, and just looked at him.

“...Rongeur. It’s my designation. You are still my prisoner, and you will still call me Keeper.” She could see the color rising into his cheeks.

“It’s a nice designation. Useful instrument.”

He shook his head. She could hear the rest of the team snickering… clearly they were already well aware of how he didn’t like it. She sighed and went back to clamping, and cutting away, the tissue, then stitching the remaining healthy bowel back together.

“Oh, come on. No one likes their first callsign. I was so excited to change mine when I got promoted. It’s okay.”

“If it’s so “okay”, then why don’t you tell me yours?”

“Nice try.” She finished the last stitch on the intestine. “Rinse please, sterile saline and kolto.”

Once the cavity had been irrigated out, she nodded. “I think we’re about ready to close up, what about you? I need a second pair of eyes.”

He leaned in to check her work, nodding. “Looks good to me.” With the main procedure done, personnel began to leave, prepping for the eventual move to the infirmary’s PACU. When it was just them and the anaesthesia droid, she looked over at him. 

“Epi.”

“What? No. He’s not coding.”

“No, that was… that was me. My designation.” She placed the last stitch to anchor everything down within the cavity. “I was part of the rapid response team. Specialized in running codes. They used to say I was like a dose of it--little, which always made me mad, and… the best thing to have on hand if your heart stopped. Which made me really happy. So when I got to change my designation, that’s what I picked.”

Keeper--she’d already decided she wasn’t going to use that other name, it fit him even less somehow--looked back at her and quietly repeated, “Epi.”

“Mhmm.”

He picked up a needle holder, sighing. “I guess if they ever let me change mine--although I don’t think SIS does that--I’ll pick something cool like that.”

Why was it suddenly warmer than usual behind her mask?...

“I, y’know, it’s not that cool. I just… you’re right about yours, it really doesn’t suit you…”

“Thanks. Everyone else knows I hate it, they get a real kick out of it. S’why I jumped on making you call me something else.” He gestured to the needles that were lined up on the tray, already threaded. “You want the silk, or the Dakryl?”

“...You mean the dainethylene, right?”

“Huh?”

“You just did it again.”

“Did what?”

“When you get some time, look at that package. I’ve had to use Republic supplies in the field, you know? Emergency surgery… nowhere on there does it say Dakryl. It says the generic name. Dainethylene.” She paused, then added, “I want the silk, though.”

“It… so what?” He handed it over. She could tell from his tone that she’d hit a nerve. “I must have picked it up from a prisoner, like you. You’re not the first Sith-licking Imperial to come through here, don’t flatter yourself.”

Sonora started placing the stitches carefully. She knew she shouldn’t push. But… “You usually talk about surgical supplies with the prisoners here?”

“My specialty as a medical operative is interrogating. With medical torture. It comes up.” But he sounded defensive.

“I guess. I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just… strange. I’ve captured my fair share of SIS too, you know?...”

“I’m well aware.”

“They didn’t talk like you do.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. And as soon as he’s closed up, you’re going back to your cell.”

She blinked at him, tying off another stitch. “Was it something I said?”

“You keep acting like you have something on me, Cipher, well let me make this clear--you don’t.” His speech was fast and pressured, and he sounded genuinely angry. “I am a loyal Republic citizen. I always have been, and always will be. And you are still alive only because you are useful, and not very much trouble, so if I were you I’d be very careful about irritating the person who has to fight for you not to be taken downstairs and shot.”

That brought her up short. Mid-stitch, in fact. “...you… you’re the reason they’re keeping me?”

He turned away, prepping another needle. “You pull your weight. Don’t make errors. You work without complaint, the shit no one else wants to do, you do it.”

“I don’t have much choice.”

“So you do it, and you don’t spend an hour in the charge nurse’s office whining about having to.” He passed it over to her. “I’m trying to convince them that you’ll defect if we give you time to see that the Republic’s not all bad. We’ve lost a few of our agents to Imperial Intelligence. Might as well even the score.”

“So what would that be like? Just… turning around for the other guys, just like that?”

“They wipe your memory. Parts of it. So I hear, anyway.”

“Oh. I wouldn’t be much use as a medic, then.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe they leave those parts alone, so you can still practice.”

The words hung in the air for a moment. It seemed like they were both making the connection at roughly the same time. Parts like the names of suture thread?

Keeper was the one to jump in and try to fill the silence. “--Either way, you don’t have to stay in a prison cell once you defect, you know. You should do it. Come fight for the good guys.”

“Would that be the good guys who, unlike Imperial Intelligence, let their medical agents specialize in medically torturing people for information?”

“The very same.”

“...yeah, not yet.” She placed the last stitch. 

“Think about it.”

“I will, if you’ll think about something for me.”

“What’s that?”

She pointed to her stitches. “What was it you called this? Far-far, near-near, symmetrical bites...”

“It’s a Tirian loop. Did they not teach you that?”

“Yeah, they taught me that. At the Academy on Dromund Kaas. Tirian comes from Lord Tiria, the Dark Council seat for Biotic Sciences. He perfected it a couple hundred years back and promptly insisted on it being renamed after him...” As she began to tape down the drain coming out of the incision, she continued, “I had hold of one of your medics once. And I used this stitch on him. He called it a Beltic stitch, after Beltos Shala, the one who invented it.” Sterile gauze padded the stitches and wicked away any extra fluid. “...So while I know where I learned it… I’m pretty curious about where you did. Mister Loyal Republic Citizen.”

“It is not your job to be curious.” His voice had dropped back to the cold, cutting tone from when she’d first seen him, standing over her as her muscles locked up. She winced. “You’re a prisoner, it’s your job to do what you’re kriffing told. Are you finished with the procedure?”

“...yes.”

“Good.” He ripped the PPE off of himself and tapped on his wrist comm. “I’ll have them come get him and move him to PACU. You’re going back to your cell. Now.”

“What?! I can’t leave a patient!”

He picked up the blaster and leveled it at her chest. “You’re. Going. Back. To your CELL, now MOVE.”

--

[writeanapocalae]

The Sleeping World

The World of Gray | The Sleeping World | The World of Gray | The World of Gray| The Falling Plane of Loss | The Falling Plane of Loss | The Falling Plane of Loss | The Sleeping World

Casteval woke with a deep inhale, as if he’d been under water for far too long. There was no one around him though, no one trying to resuscitate him. He was in a back alley, not in a lake, and the only liquid around was the long stream of goo coming from one of the dumpsters. He was behind a restaurant, by the smell of it.

He breathed, trying to catch up, and winced, fire in his belly. He reached down, feeling the sticky heat there, making his shirt cling to his skin. He opened his eyes fully then, looking down himself. Blood. His blood. He could still feel the stab wounds, the four of them, deep, terribly deep, deeper than he though someone could survive.

He pulled himself up into a sitting position, undoing the buttons of his shirt, trying to look at what was happening. He’d never been stabbed before, he didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. The pain was expected , the four half moon shapes dribbling blood were only a surprise because this was real, this wasn’t some weird fake hallucination world. He’d carried this wound from that made up place into the real world. He didn’t think that a stab wound, especially not one in the stomach, would ever feel so cold.

He pulled himself to his feet. Even that was a feat. His muscles ached from climbing a well that didn’t exist and the movement stretched his wounds, making the gush more. He encircled the wounds with his hands, groaning. He had to put pressure on them, had to get to a hospital, but he knew that touching them would be agonizing.

He didn’t even know how he was conscious.

The cold was spreading, like numbness was trying to take him over. As much as he didn’t want to feel the pain of it, the idea of it subsiding was terrifying. If it was all gone, that would mean that something really bad was happening, that it was killing him and his body couldn’t handle it.

He leaned against the wall, breathing, trying to talk himself into taking a step forward. The wound wasn’t bleeding as much now.

He pulled at his sleeve, bunching it in one hand, and wiped at the wounds. He wasn’t imagining it. The wound really wasn’t bleeding as much. The cuts looked smaller, were less inflamed, even though there were angry red veins feeding into it, trying to build up puss and blood to protect him from infection. He was healing, insanely fast, as if his body was just now realizing that it was real.

It was a hallucination, like the rest of that place, and he had carried it with him. He wasn’t actually bleeding. His mind was just trying to fill in the gaps. That was all. He sighed again and buttoned up his shirt. If he wasn’t hurt, he wasn’t hurt. Focusing on it would only make him hold onto the illusion for longer.

Walking was still hard, both because of the residual pain and because the world didn’t feel quite right. He’d felt so much in that other world, both the Falling Plane and that gray place that this world, the real world, felt dulled in comparison.

People were staring at him, everyone he passed took a look at his face and then at his shirt, where he knew there wasn’t a terrible blood stain. He was fine. He breathed through his clenched teeth. There was nothing to stare at him for. They all stared. A few people asked him if he was alright but he just waved them off. More talked after they’d left his eyesight.

Even when he reached his favorite route home, the one that was more back alley than road, the one that left him alone, with no other pedestrians for him to deal with, he could feel people staring at him.

There were eyes in the shadows and he shook his head. They weren’t really there. Nothing was really there. Even though the shadows were darker and longer than they should have been, there weren’t eyes in them. Nothing was watching him, aside from the CCTV and the passerby from the main roads. He was just imagining it.

He hated that he couldn’t trust his own imagination anymore. That his mind lied to him with every side eyed glance.

The world felt heavier too, like he was walking slower than he was used to, that everything was draining him. A side effect of the drugs, he assumed, not that he even knew that they were. He was definitely calling out tomorrow. He’d probably be fired, but he’d been expecting that for months now. It wouldn’t be too big of a deal.

He was almost home. He could see the street that would take him to his apartment complex, just over the next hill. The hill looked like it was not traversable though, his feet too slow and heavy, the pain in his stomach barely present but the numbness having spread to most of his abdomen.

Setting his jaw, he took a step forward, ready for the trial. It was hard sometimes, after work, when all he wanted to do was sleep. This was just so much more than that though, every step feeling like it would topple him over.

“Hey, where you think you’re going?” someone asked and he waved them off. He didn’t have the energy right now for some panhandler.

“Casteval, you’re going to fall,” the someone kept up with him, a hand on his elbow. He was. He was going to fall. He didn’t mind the stranger pulling him into a side street, one that he’d been in a million times before, and pressing him up against a gray brick wall. The stone was cold against his back and he closed his eyes, breathing, allowing himself to relax.

He wasn’t in danger. This other person knew him. His voice was warm and welcome, even if it was a bit predatory. He was helping.

“Now, what am I supposed to do with you?” he asked, and Casteval could feel his callused fingers against his jaw, turning his head one way and the other. “You start feeling things? Seeing things? You’re not part of this world anymore, are you?”

Casteval cracked an eye open, noting his friends face. It was heavily lined, as if he was exceptionally old, but his bone structure was still strong and his hair still vibrant and healthy. He didn’t look old, just textured. He wore a turtleneck and thick black sunglasses, hiding his eyes completely, even though the sun was setting. His hair was a curly mess, hiding his ears poorly. There was something wrong about the way that they were shaped.

Casteval didn’t know him.

@kly-writes, @mynameis3-14, @anhathaway, @writing-at-dusk, @itskassidywrites, @ghost-possum, @blank-nova-trash

[mineofilms]

Pain State

Where to begin… I am writing this BLOG, well, more of dictating it as my vision is not well enough to write this conventionally, as a writer should. In order for me to see well enough my computer monitor is a 46 inch LED HDTV and it is approximately 12-18 inches from my face, at any given time.

I have recently applied for and have been denied Medicaid/Social Security Services after having serious health issues from dealing with Covid-19 in June 2020… Since this happened. I cannot work. No work, no money, no money, no health insurance and then that emergency that we all dread happens…

I have been a type 2 diabetic since 2013. When the pandemic struck SWFL I caught Covid-19, around June 26th. By July 11th I needed to be hospitalized for Diabetic Ketoacidosis (where the body produces excess blood acids; ketones. This occurs when there isn't enough insulin in the body. It can be triggered by infection or other illness.) & Pancreatitis (inflammation of the pancreas. It happens when digestive enzymes start digesting the pancreas itself.) I was in ICU for 36 hours and in the hospital for a total of 5 days. I lost 21 pounds over that time. I was already underweight.

3 days after I got home from the hospital, Macular Edema (blood vessels in the retina burst and bled into my eyes), set in. That took about a month to heal only for Diabetic Retinopathy (those same blood vessels that burst heal and are inflamed).

Usually requires anti-inflammatory shots into the damaged eye ball, in my case, both and laser surgery to burn away some of the excess scar tissue. These cost thousands of dollars without insurance, which I do not have. One must get treatment though.

I got my blood sugars down to near normal (high) levels. This means my blood sugar is still high, but for me, I used to walk around at 400. 500-600 is diabetic coma. 80-120 is considered normal. I walk around between 130-230, currently, fasted.

Taking care of my health was a full time job in and of itself before the pandemic. Now, I cannot work. I can only drive during the day. I cannot see well enough to drive at night. I have other medical issues stemming from this.

I am back in “ok” physical shape, but still limited. I look good on the outside and that is part of the problem. I feel the Doctors here are not seeing “the facts” and just seeing my physical look as a clean bill of health. I know there is some truth to this because my physicality comes up in the dialog. Blind is blind, it doesn’t have anything to do with me lifting up a car or not.

I have struggled with my diabetes from the start and now after Covid I am literally left with a mind/body/soul that doesn’t function at a, what was the pharse the denial letter used, oh yes…

“Based on a review of your health problems, you do not qualify for SSI payments on this claim. This is because you are not disabled or blind under our rules.  Doctors and other trained staff looked at your case and made this decision. They work for the State but used our rules.”

I have had to make serious and big changes to EVERYTHING in my life.

My computer is now changed from dual 22 inch monitors to one 46 inch monitor. I have to make changes like this just to see well enough to do some things on the computer, which is pretty much how I make my keep or was...

I am still very blind. My vision has decent days and some days I cannot see much of anything. I can barely see my phone without a magnifying glass and the magnification is all the way up on it. I shouldn’t be driving at night. I have a few times… I am all over the road.

The best way I can describe my vision is take your phone and turn the brightness all the way down till you have to squint to see the icons. That is basically how I see at night. The power is turned way down. The retinopathy in my right eye is there are literal holes in my vision where the light is being bounced off my lens and all I can see is double vision in that eye on things that are distant. Distance is relative… You know like traffic lights, cars, street signs, the lines in the road.

Yet the Gov’t believes this is not an issue? Normal 9-5, Monday-Friday are out of the question, indefinitely. Not only am I not well enough for the grind, physically. My mental health is very questionable. I have had issues for years now. I have had about 20 jobs in 5 years. I have done a real number on my mental health over the past couple of years. Especially this last battle after Covid.

I have made huge strides in changing my life, my thinking and how I fit into the scheme of things. I have become more an introvert than an extrovert since getting out of the hospital. It’s getting close to a year now and I am nowhere near where I need to be to be well enough to worry about work right now.

I am trying to be more transparent. In the past it was easy, but now nothing feels safe. I am so worried about getting sick again and it throwing my health out of whack again that my anxiety takes over and I literally do nothing. I won’t leave the house, but at the same time I am so mentally exhausted, all the time… Not some of the time, all the time.

At the end of the day. I had to take 3 tests for social security… One for a physical, another for mental health and the last for vision.  I could barely bend over at the physical. I cannot move around well, fast at all. I have to take my time a little now. Balance is definitely a problem. That was since Covid… Also with my diabetes and it being SWFL I cannot take the heat. I cannot do manual labor whatsoever anymore.

I cannot even workout in my garage anymore. I had to spend money I do not have on a gym membership just so I can lift a little weight under A/C. I can lift, sure but they are all controlled movements, it is a lot different than working outside in SWFL.

The mental health, yeah I am short tempered. Much more than a normal person. I forget things, important things, almost constantly. I cannot concentrate. The mental evaluation agreed that I was positive for Persistent Depressive Disorder & Intermittent Explosive Disorder all stemming from the PTSD I now have from this experience.

I am Persistently pissed off or sad, Persistently… When I Explode, which happens periodically aka Intermittently, its quite bad and it isn’t a safe situation for me or where my explosive mindset is directed at. I do my very best to avoid those situations and/or people who tend to gravitate to that.

I have had to heavily depend on medical marijuana. Other medications have serious side effects that could further complicate my diabetic state. I am not going to stop with this sort of treatment for a job where the company looks down at this as a form of medicine...

If I can be honest it has been working for companies like this for the past 20 years that led to the beginning stages of my mental health problems. As you hear a lot these days. “I do not people anymore.”

I might be able to pull off some part-time work in the future but right now. I need to get my vision and grip on both diseases; the diabetes and the depression.

Now the eyes… I have explained throughout this BLOG about my eyes. I have found a surgeon that has been giving me the injections for $40 a shot, once a month. That is reasonable. However, its one shot a month, on one eye. We have been treating my left eye. We have not yet begun treatment on the right eye, which seems to be the worse of the 2 and is the one I have the double vision in. I do not understand how I am labeled “not blind.” That alone should have been enough. Granted things are looking up but it is very much up in the air if this will improve my vision in the long game.

Now as of May 1st I have been disqualified by DEO for Unemployment/PUA benefits that I have been receiving since March of 2020. Now DEO has cut me off saying: "Claimant's unemployment IS NOT A DIRECT RESULT of the PANDEMIC..."

Wait, what? Me being unemployed is VERY MUCH a direct result of the Pandemic. Just because, I was unemployed before the pandemic now we question if my unemployment has been caused by a direct result of Covid-19?

When the pandemic first started I was on my way to starting my own business for IT/Tech/Computer Repair Services. The pandemic happened and everything closed. Kind of hard to start a business with this happening.

Then late June rolls around… I actually get Covid-19… From that point to now. My life has been one foot in/out of the grave…

• I had to be rushed to the ER…

• I lost approx. 25% of my body mass…

• I lost my sight…

• I had to learn to walk again…

• My diabetes is touchier now than when it was…

• I can only drive at night due to poor sight…

• I can hardly bend over…

• I cannot handle the heat…

• I cannot stay focused on tasks…

• Digestive Issues…

• Sleeping/Waking Up…

• Extreme Mood Swings…

All this caused directly from Covid…

Yet, I am "Claimant's unemployment IS NOT A DIRECT RESULT of the PANDEMIC..." When it comes to my current status… That little bit of money that was coming was the only monies that was coming in. If I do not qualify for other reasons then that would make sense but they are basically telling me I choose to stay home over go to work and refuse to look.

That isn’t what is happening…

I am not looking for work; because I cannot go back to work. I cannot go back to work; because I am no longer mentally fit to handle the daily stresses of “the grind.” I’m not looking for work; because I cannot see well enough to drive every single day and what if I have to drive at night? So, now I am taking chances with my personal safety and the safety of other drivers because; the state says I need to go back to work now. I am not looking for work; because my field is technical and it is hard to find technical jobs here, locally, that do not require me to drive an hour there and back each day. That is no longer an option.

So between my vision being very poor, my mental state being iffy at best, my physical condition where I cannot do any labor intensive work. How am I supposed to function, normally in society? I cannot do even a portion of what is required day in and out for me to function, for anyone to function, normally...

Would I go back to work if these issues were rectified? I would, yes, but under the circumstances that I am currently dealing with I do not see how this is practical, nor do I see how I am supposed to, “workaround” this?

While my eyes heal, I can gladly do some sort of online schooling where I can find something in my field, but doesn’t require, all the driving, stress of dealing with the grind and other people that put unwanted/unneeded stress on me that drives my diabetes out of control again.

I have to state that my diabetes is very much not in control.

That I am doing all I can to just keep my head above the water. I am not being giving the tools to get healthy and the few instances where I might get that help the State is eager to take away.

In closing I am unsure as to what will happen if I am left to my vices… Physically and Mentally I know I am losing the war. I get a battled victory here and there; but it is soon removed when something new/old comes around to take back their support.

I mean, it would be much easier if the Gov’t just put up a bunch of portable gas chambers so people who cannot win at life, being happy, stable, healthy can go in, put a few coins in the machine and be gassed so people do not have to deal with you anymore. I do not know if I would wait for my turn or not, but it is a thought.

It is said that appearances do not mean a thing… I wish society would get that along with my doctors that don’t assume good health; because Rollins Boy smashes some weights here and there. Maybe I am cursed, ha. I don't know if I believe in curses or not but I do believe in this...

“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

 State Pain By David-Angelo Mineo 5/2/2021 2,256 Words

[ericbolton1993]

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Can Bacterial Vaginosis Cause Lower Back Pain

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[marshmallowgoop]

You think that Senketsu ever gets lulled to sleep by the sound of Ryuko's slowing heart beat if she falls asleep while wearing him?

The first time, it’s anaccident.

He’s scared. He doesn’t mean to.

The feeling comes what seemstoo late. It comes after the battle, after reddened cheeks and hasty, labored breaths,after an escape that should have left her a crumpled heap on the ground.

She only barely manages toreach the station just as the last train rings its bells and signals itsdeparture. Everyone backs away at the sight of her—of him, of them—eyes gluedto the weapon she keeps at her side and his body pressed against hers, facesfilled with a jumble of emotions and feelings that he doesn’t understand and can’t understand.

But she acts for him. Sheshouts, she yells, she holds up a blade she can scarcely keep steady, andbefore long the train is hers. None can say a word as she rides, as she goes somewherehe doesn’t know and he is sure she doesn’t know herself, her hand—his hand,their hand, he doesn’t know that, either—gripping the cool steel stanchion tight,as though her life depends on it.

She still fights to breathe. Everybreath is a desperate gasp, and she’s hot and burning beneath him, skin on fire,pushing him away with every whimpered wheeze, and yet he holds her close tohim, anyway. He holds her as she holds the cold metal, he holds her as shestrains to hold herself upright, he holds her and all her blood she’s spilledacross him and all her sweat that now covers his entirety. He holds her stenchof war, he holds her pain, he holds this girl—Ryuko, he thinks, as though he hasn’t been repeating and repeatingthe name in his head—like she is all he has.

Perhaps it is because she is all he has.

The train stops as the settingsun drenches them in a bright-orange glow that he’s never known. She can no longerstand, and he feels her fall, hard, her body collapsing to the ground in aplace where the air is thick and heavy and hot and the smell of garbageprevails. He breathes in the reek of rotting food tumbling from tipped-overbins, of rats scurrying around dark corners, of human waste and mold. He feelsthe sun pressing down on him in a way it shouldn’t this time of year—not thathe knows what time of year it is—and it suffocates him, leaving him as starvingfor breath as she had been only moments before.

The people come quickly, a smallgroup of boys. They hear the fall of his girl—no, of Ryuko—and they throw downtheir playing cards, coming over to gawk, to stare. They’re young—nothing morethan mere children, schoolbags still slung over their backs, youthful frecklesdotting their faces, too-big, hand-me-down clothes falling over their shouldersand held up at their waists with dangling belts—but their words bring him tohold her trembling body even closer to him, his own body tensing, his breath leavinghim completely.

The boys look to one another, andlook to him, and look to her with eyes that don’t see her as human. They licktheir lips, they inch ever closer, they laugh, they won’t stop laughing.

“Get away,” he wants to say. “Don’tyou touch her. Don’t you lay a finger onher.”

But his voice is gone. Wordsare gone. He can only growl, he can only hold, can only embrace, rage and angerand fear building inside, filling him, suffocating him.

He still can’t breathe.

But he has to protect her. Nothing else matters besides protecting her.

It is then, though, at that precisemoment, as the boys come closer and despair overtakes him, that Senketsu first feels it.

The sensation is soothing,somehow. It’s relaxing, a gentle rhythm that seems to seep into his very souland wash all his tension away, replacing the feelings with calm, with peace. Theworld’s vibrancy—the musty scents, the richness of the burnt orange of the sun—allfade away, as though shrouded in fog.

Senketsu gasps. Ryuko’s own breathinghas calmed. Her once-pounding heart rate has slowed to a crawl. She’s fastasleep, she’s left him, she’s gone to rest—and something is demanding that hego with her.

Something is pulling Senketsuaway.

The world continues to growmore distant, muddled, as the sensation threatens to overtake him completely. Hecan’t drift away, he knows, he has to be here, he can’t leave, but the boys’words sound less and less like language, and the boys’ shapes look less andless like humans, and he’s hardly conscious, as another boy comes before them,arms outstretched, as though his small form can serve as a barricade.

“Bug off, creeps!” the boysays, Senketsu thinks, and the group groans and slinks away, leaving only thethree of them there, right where Ryuko had fallen from the train.

Senketsu cannot say he truststhe new boy. The child will only hurt Ryuko, will only bring her harm, willonly do her ill, but the feeling dulls everything. This sensation is too nice,too wonderful, and Senketsu can hardly recall, in the days to come, his bodycollapsing around Ryuko as the boy takes her by the wrist, as he drags her to handsthat could bandage and heal in a way that Senketsu himself never could.

Sleep, Senketsu remembers a voicesaying, time and time again.

Rest.

The second time, Senketsufeels it in a time of calm.

Ryuko slumbers so peacefullythat he doesn’t even hesitate to join her, the drone of Mr. Mikisugi’s lecturevanishing into nothing, that wondrous sensation filling him to the brim.

The third time, Senketsu recognizesit when Ryuko holds her body close to his, her arms wrapped around his tiny form,her hands clutching him and all his exhaustion as though it is her own, herback pressed up against cold, cool porcelain.

All around them is the reek oftoilet water, of nauseating, flower-scented disinfectants, of blood in a placeit shouldn’t be, of a war that shouldn’t belong. He ought to feel sick, Senketsuknows, he ought to feel tense, on edge, but her grip is so warm, her scent isso calming, and her hold on him doesn’t loosen even as the sensation becomesstronger, even as that man carries them in a way that Senketsu knows he never could, even as she drifts far away and leaves him in a drowsy haze of bothwonder and fear.

Sleep, a voice says, as theman’s steps slip into the soothing feeling growing inside, as the strangernever once tries to hurt her again.

Unwittingly, Senketsu does so.

The fourth time is a blur.

He aches. Everything aches. She’salready wandered away from him, her breathing slowed, her body stained red andblack and purple, covered in fresh sores and welts that bleed, that sting, thathurt, that he can’t rub salve over, that he can’t help.

That he’d given her.

She aches. She’s silentagainst him, but every last bit of her aches, and he knows it, he feels it. Herpain is his own, as it has been since the day she first uttered his name fromlips that now will not speak.

He can’t stop staring, even asthe world fades, even as that sweet sound hugs him as she had, once, her backagainst a cold, cool porcelain wall. Her face is red still, inflamed from theirbattle, and if he could forget it, if he could act as though he weren’t what heis, he might think she looks peaceful right now, at ease, as though she hasn’t acare in the world.

But he can’t forget. He wantsto carry her in arms he doesn’t have. He wants to hold her like Kinagase had. Hewants to bandage her face and her wounds like ojisan had. He wants to be anything but what he is.

She whispers his name, from afaraway place, as people come their way, surely to free her of him, to take him away. Her voice is quiet, strained, vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and thefeeling overcomes him once more.

The fifth time, the feelinghas grown stronger.

He is broken. He is lost. Hefeels torn in a million different directions, but she holds him together. Sheclutches him as though he is all that matters in the world, she holds him soclose he can smell the hard citrus of the kitchen soap and the sweat thatbecomes his, and it is wonderful, intoxicating.

He can almost forget that heis incomplete.

But the sound is the mostsoothing of all. It is a sound he has come to love more than most anything, andit calls for him now, it resonates with his entire being, it caresses him andholds him and somehow, he knows that she will be safe.

Sleep, a voice says, as italways does in moments like this, though he realizes it is not a voice at all. 

The world fades away as arms that are not his carry them away.

The sixth time, she notices.

She holds him close to her andhe holds her close to him, collapsing to alien sheets that are soft and finebut not what she is used to, not home, not family. She does not say anything ofit, but he understands.

Her breathing has calmed. Herheart is slowing, going to sleep, finally, after hours of racing and thudding and aching.

No, he can’t blame her, he thinks, of course he can’t, not after everything they had learned, but he has never felt more satisfied to feel the sensation overtaking him, the world taking on a dim glaze.

He yawns against her, just after she does, bringing her eyes to his.

“Are you tired, Senketsu?” sheasks. There is surprise in her voice. She has not yet realized.

“Yes,” he says. Her sound pulls at him. It is mesmerizing, incredible. He struggles to speak. “I am tired because you are.”

She runs a hand along his neckerchief, her fingers seeming to dance to the rhythm inside. 

“You can tell?” she asks.

“I can,” he says.

“And it makes you sleepy?”

“It does.”

Of course it does. She’s driftingfarther and farther away from him, and the world is already starting to fade. Hervoice seems distant, fuzzy, as though she is speaking to him underwater, andher heart won’t stop.

“You listenin’ again, huh?” she asks. “You like the sound that much?”

She’s drowsy. Her words are tired and sloppy, coming out longand drawn out. Her tone is sweeter than sugar, and she’s smiling at him,lightly, crinkles at her eyes.

Would she ever speak like thisto him, when her heartbeat is not the sound of the most beautiful lullaby?

“I do,” he tells her, asthough such simple words could convey what the sound means to him. “I adore it,Ryuko.”

He feels her relax even more against him. Sheshuts her eyes. She is so close to slipping away.

“S’nothing special,” shemumbles. She is not talking to him so much as to herself. “Nothing but aheartbeat. Nothing…”

She leaves him. Her heartbeatfalls into one of its most wondrous sounds, slow and steady and peacefuland soothing, and he wishes to say that it is not just a heartbeat to him. Thereis nothing nothing about it.

And though she will not hearhis words, he speaks anyway, as the world fades to nothing.

[itskimtaehyung]

Jeon Jungkook Is Dead (1/3)

Jungkook has been acting a little strange lately...

Member: Jungkook 

POV: Reader 

Genre: Crack, Angst, Mystery, and do I dare call this SciFi?

Word Count: 3,145

Content/Warnings: Non romantic affiliation between Jungkook and reader but there is Jikook relationship. Strong language, mentions of sex.

A/N: written with the help of my soulmate @jeonjiah

Jeon Jungkook has always been a strange one. With his toned, muscular body and contradictory adorable bunny face, his absurd athleticism and ridiculous ability to do anything and everything perfectly, it's a wonder how he's even human.

You’ve watched him grow and change over the last few years, become the man he is today. And that man… That man… Oh boy, where do you start?

When he first came to BigHit, he was so small, so shy. Whenever you did his makeup or helped him get dressed, he would always look straight ahead, never at you, and definitely not in your eyes. You didn’t see this as rudeness. You’ve worked with countless trainees in the past, and knew that having all these people constantly touching you takes some getting used to.

He quickly grew out of his shyness and became more confident (maybe a little too confident)  in his looks and his abilities. Within the first year of his debut, he changed so drastically that, looking back, you have a hard time processing that the little, shy boy who came to you nearly six years ago was the same man who is seated before you right now.

Jungkook sits in your makeup chair while you dab foundation on the small scar on his cheek. You wonder why you’re even doing this, since his skin is always completely flawless. But you guess if you didn’t, you’d be out of a job.

“Noona, I’m thinking of changing my earrings,” Jungkook states as you apply concealer over his non existent dark circles.

You sigh. “Jungkook it's only been a few months. You have to wait at least a year for them to heal completely,” you tell him. Jungkook is always overestimating himself, thinking he can do things that don’t seem possible. However, you supposed he has good reason to, since he’s always able to do those impossible things.

“No, I don't,” he insists. “They're perfectly fine right now.” To prove it he flicks his ear a couple of times just below the piercings. You wince, because on any other person, that would have hurt.

“Didn’t your piercer tell you that they heal from the outside in? So even if they look healed, there’s a high chance that they’re not this early on.”

“But Noona I really think they’re ready!” 

Again, you sigh. “I don't think you should do it, but you’re an adult and I can't stop you.”

He gives a smug grin as you finish up his makeup and send him off to get changed.

The next day you see Jungkook and lo and behold, he changed his earrings. His helix now sports two little silver rings that fit his ear just right. 

The first thing he does when he sees you is walk over to you so you can survey his new jewelry in all its glory. “See, Noona! They’re fine!”

Amazingly they are fine. No swelling or redness or anything whatsoever. Even though it's only been three months. His healing time seemed inhuman. Out of all the people you've known with cartilage piercings, including you, trying to take them out before the suggested healing time of one year caused the piercings to become inflamed and sometimes even infected. But his look as if they’d been healed for years.

How is that possible? Three months! What kind of person could do that? Everyone. Everyone– piercers, piercees, even just random people on the internet– says you have to wait at least a year and here he was totally fine after only three months. This just does not seem possible. This was the first of your suspicions that something was off about Jeon Jungkook.

You kind of just accept this odd feeling and pretty much forget about it after a few weeks. With Bangtan flying all over the world for their tour, doing American promotions, and attending the Billboard Music Awards, you don’t have much time to think about anything but work.

A couple months later, Bangtan are scheduled to do some overseas promotion in Japan. One of the events they will be attending is a baseball game where Jungkook has been chosen to throw the first pitch. “We’re going to have baseball jerseys with your names on them made for the game, but you get to choose the number on the back,” you explain to Jungkook. “What number do you want?” “Hmm…” He gives the question some thought. “Fifty eight,” he declares with a nod. “Fifty eight? Why?”

The other members chose numbers that related to their birthdays or birth years, aside from Hoseok, who chose 7 for all seven members of BTS. But you couldn’t think of any relation between the number 58 and Jungkook.

“Sounds like oppa. Oh. Pal,” he answers sternly, nodding once again.

This fuckin kid I swear to god, you think to yourself. “Why? You hate being called Oppa.” “I changed my mind.”

You’re taken aback by how plain and matter of fact his answer is. “What do you mean you changed your mind?”

“ARMY love calling me Oppa, and I love ARMY, so by transitive property, I now love being called Oppa.”

You don’t know what to say. You have no choice but to put in the order. Thus, two weeks later, Jungkook throws the first pitch at a Japanese baseball game with fucking Oppa on his back. 

The morning after the game, one of the other stylists catches up with you while you’re getting your morning coffee at the hotel’s cafe.

“Hey did you hear about Jungkook?” He asks you.

“Hear what? Is he okay? Did he hurt himself yesterday?” He was always pushing his limits when it came to sports and athletics, so it would only be a matter of time before he ended up seriously hurting himself. “I haven’t seen him since before the game.”

“No, he’s not hurt or anything like that.” He grabs a packet of sugar and dumps the contents into his cup.

“Oh. Then what’s up?” You ask, handing him a stir stick.

“You know how he threw the first pitch right?”

“Yeah…”

“Officials said his pitch exceeded speeds of 100 kilometers per hour…”

You take a sip of your coffee. Knowing nothing about sports, you look at him expectantly for an explanation.

“That’s usually only accomplished by experienced pitchers.”

You almost spit out your drink. “What the fuck? That doesn’t sound right? Jungkook just started practicing last week!”

You remember accompanying him to practice that day and watched him pitch a baseball for the first time in years. He was a little rusty. The pitches never landed where he wanted them, but apparently the kid learns fast. Maybe a little too fast...

About a week and a half later, on Bangtan’s fourth anniversary, yet another incident occurs.

There you are, minding your own business, doing Jimin’s makeup when Jungkook walks in with half a kiwi stuffed in his mouth.

“Hmm mmm mmm,” he mumbles.

“What?”

He chews and then swallows. “I said ‘Hey Noona!’” He grins and waves at you.

“Oh hey, Jungkook. How are you today?” You ask distractedly, struggling to get the eyeshadow on Jimin’s eyelid to look how you want it.

“I’m great! Jimin, I brought you something.” Jungkook hands Jimin a bowl full of freshly cut fruit.

“Thanks,” Jimin replies, trying to stay as still as possibly so you don’t accidentally stab him in the eye.

“Noona have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet Jungkook. I’m going to grab something to eat after I finish up Jimin.”

“I ordered a food truck for our fourth anniversary so all of the staff get free lunch today.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Jungkook.” You finish up Jimin’s lash line and step back to smile at Jungkook.

“Guess what the truck is called, Noona!” He’s bouncing up and down, childishly giddy.

You giggle. It’s so cute to see him so happy like this. Lately you’ve only seen him act all serious for interviews and public outings. Seeing this excited is quite refreshing.

“What is it called, Jungkookie?” You address him by the pet name you hadn’t used since he grew out of his baby face. However, seeing him like this, you felt the urge to bring it back.

“OPPA!”

The smile falls from your face. “Oppa,” you repeat, mouth forming a straight line.

“Yes. Oppa. The Oppa Truck.” He looks so proud of the name, as if he just won an award for it or something.

“You must be kidding me.”

You just stand there, stunned, maybe even a little exasperated. Just a few months ago Jungkook was adamant about not being called oppa. If you even mentioned the word around him he would look disgusted and walk out. One day he throws a hissy fit over someone calling him Oppa and the next he’s naming everything associated with him Oppa? What is up with him?

The first thing you do when you get home that night is investigate. And according to you, “investigating” means turning to Google to answer the questions that have been plaguing your mind.

“Sudden changes in behavior” you type into the search bar. Most of the results have to do with dementia in older adults, and you didn’t think Jungkook had that, so you decide to try again.

“Sudden changes in behavior in celebrities” you search. The first article is about how celebrities can start to think that they’re above the law or above public scrutiny when they possess a great amount of wealth. What Jungkook is doing is definitely not illegal, nor is it particularly controversial. It’s just odd as hell for him. These results are better, but still not what you’re looking for.

You keep clicking and searching and somehow you end up on an article about celebrity conspiracy theories. More specifically, theories about how some celebrities actually died years ago and were replaced by doppelgangers, robots, and, in Avril Lavigne’s case, a lizard person.

Finally something that makes sense! It’s so obvious now! The Jungkook you knew and loved was replaced by a robot! That explained the sudden change in personality, the superhuman healing, and the absurd knack for athleticism. That’s it! But Jeon Jungkook being replaced by a robot had to mean one thing:

Jeon Jungkook is dead. 

But when could that have happened? You were with him for a majority of the last few months. Surely you would have noticed if your long time friend and client died. And there was that one time during the Wings promotion where Jungkook cut himself and bled on stage. Robots can’t bleed so it would have had to have been sometime after that.

Your mind draws a blank when you try to think of what happened between then and now. Holy shit, you think. Does this have something to do with the government? Did they wipe my memory? Why can’t I remember anything?

You can feel a migraine starting to develop and resign to go to bed. Maybe you’ll confront him in the morning. Maybe you’ll wake up and find that this is just a dream. All you know right now is that you’re exhausted and staying up probably won’t lead to anything new, so you go to sleep.

In your sleep, your mind tries to piece everything together. You dream of Jungkook – not like that, to you, he’s still a child for god’s sake. You dream of him laying on a bed – again, not like that– with a vague figure hovering over him. Jungkook’s chest has been cut open, revealing wires and circuit boards and all sorts of technology far too advanced for you to even comprehend. The vague figure pokes and prods around in there, moving wires around and soldering pieces together. He’s so absorbed in what he’s doing he doesn’t notice you standing by the door. He keeps working and you keep watching. Suddenly, one of Jungkook’s eyes pops out of his head and rolls off the bed toward you. You scream as it comes to a stop near your feet. The vague figure looks up, and once he realizes he’s been caught, he lunges at you with a screwdriver, driving it through your eye socket and into your brain. The world goes black and then you find yourself awake in a cold sweat.

You try to remember the details of your dream. You try to remember the vague figure’s face.

You’ve seen that face before. You can’t remember what he looks like, but you remember thinking as he lunged toward you, I know this man.

This dream only acts as an affirmation that it’s up to you to find out what’s going on.

The next day you go to work all jittery. You opt to skip the coffee, since it would make your hands shake even more, which would not be good in your line of work.

You need answers, but you don’t even know how you would go about getting them.

Do you just ask around? Does anyone know? Has anyone noticed a difference in Jungkook? Did anyone witness his death? You need to know.

Your first client of the day is Jimin. Having worked with these boys for years, you know that Jimin is the closest with Jungkook out of the other six. You also know that he can’t lie to save his life, so hopefully he’ll crack and tell you something. You start off the conversation comfortably, asking him how his day is going, whether or not he’s eaten yet. The usual.

Once there’s a break in the flow, you take the opportunity to attack.

“Hey Jimin have you noticed anything weird about Jungkook lately?” You ask, keeping your voice light and casual. His eyes bulge. Got him. In all honesty, you weren’t expecting him to crack so soon. You make a mental note to never trust him with any of your secrets.

He shifts in the makeup chair. “Why do you ask that?” You take a fluffy brush and sweep a brown shadow over his lid. “I don't know. I feel like he's been a little off lately and you seem to be the closest to him.” You lean in so that your nose is less than an inch from his and whisper, “Also I know you can't lie.” He leans his head back to get away. “N-no!” He replies a little too abruptly. “I think he's totally fine!” You lean in closer. “You’re lying, Park Jimin! I know it!” “No I'm not!” He tries to squirm out of the chair. “YOU’RE A TERRIBLE LIAR!” Seeing as you’re not going to let him go any time soon, he resigns. “Okay, fine there is something going on.” He sighs. You listen with anticipation. ”But I don't know if Jungkook would want me telling you. “ You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Come on please?” You pout. “I thought I was your favorite noona.” You’re so close! You just need him to break. “You are... but... I don't know. I just can't. Not many people know. Not even some of the members.” Why would they hide something so big from the members? Surely it would be important enough to tell Bangtan that their own lead singer died and was replaced by a robot?

“Fine,” you huff.

You finish up Jimin’s makeup and dismiss him. You don’t know who they’re going to send through your door next, and your heart starts racing when you see that it’s Jungkook.

“Hey, Noona! What’s up?” he greets as he plops down into the chair. You uselessly begin applying BB cream on him with your hands. “Your skin feels so real,” you observe, not realizing that you had said it outloud.

“What do you mean by that, Noona?” Jungkook’s brows furrow.

“What? Nothing.” You choose to finish up his face with a makeup sponge. “How are you Jungkook?” you ask him, trying to shift the attention away from you. “Not much is up with me.” You narrow your eyes at him. “But I know something's up with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked Jimin if there was something going on because I felt something was odd about you lately and you know he can't lie. But he told me to ask you about it.” You lean closer trying to stare him down. But his eyes don’t change, his breathing doesn’t waver. He frowns at you. “There is something going on, Noona.” “Tell me, Jungkookie.”

He hesitates. Is this it? Are you finally going to get confirmation that Jungkook is a robot? You can’t stand the anticipation. Your heart is beating out of your chest, your hands are gripping the armrests of the chair as you lean forward, waiting.

“Jimin and I are sleeping together.” “Are you real?” You blurt out at the same time. “What?” you both say together. “Noona, what do you mean am I real? As opposed to what? A robot?” He chuckles at the trivial notion. “Uhhh I uhhh. You and Jimin huh?” You ask, trying to change the subject after realizing how ridiculous your theory sounds when said out loud “Yeah. Is that wrong?” He looks up at you for your approval, as if he was afraid he’d disappoint you. Again you see in him the small child who once came to you whenever he was nervous. The one whose hands you had to hold to keep them from shaking too much before a performance. As much as this kid annoyed you or frustrated you, he could never disappoint you. “No. Not at all.” You place a hand on his cheek to reassure him. “To be honest, I had been suspecting something between you two for a while, but I just assumed you were really close.” All traces of that child disappears so suddenly and a cocky smirk takes its place. “Oh we're definitely close.” He winks at you. You roll your eyes and lean back. “Okay that solves that,” you declare, clapping your hands together. “Thanks for telling me.”

You expect him to get up and leave, but he remains in his seat, so you just stand back and stare at him. 

“Wait, are we done?”

“Yup.” You dispose of the makeup sponge and clean up your workstation.

“But what about my makeup?”

“There’s not much to be done, to be honest. You’re flawless as always, Jeon Jungkook.” “Alright, cool.” Smiling, he stands up and makes his way to the door. Before he exits he turns back to you. “Oh, and can you please not tell anyone, Noona? Not even Taehyung knows and I don't want it to get out. It's not that I don't trust them, I just... I'm not ready to tell them yet.”

“Okay, I understand.”

He leaves and you go about your work day without realizing that his answer didn’t explain any of the strange things that have been happening with him.

[payprosalaska]

Dissolve Kidney Stones – Best Kidney Stone Home Remedy – Painful Urination

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Description:

Dear fellow kidney stone sufferer,

It’s 2.45am, and pitch black. You’ve just woken up to an agonising stinging sensation in your groin along with a desperate urge to pee. You stagger to the bathroom, bleary eyed and doubled over with the pain.

You finally make it and flick the light-switch, instantly dazzled by the blinding glare which only makes things worse. Eventually you get to where you need to be, and then comes the worst part… yep, that’s right: peeing through your kidney stones.

You screw up your face trying to block out the scorching pain that cuts right through you. But there’s no getting away from it. It hurts, and it hurts a lot. And this is the third time tonight!

Does that sound familiar?

That’s what happened to me most nights when I had kidney stones.

Luckily, I found a way out. While I was desperately searching for a solution to the nightmare of my kidney stones, I accidentally stumbled across an incredible secret that changed my life forever.

And because I know the pain you’re going through, I want to share it with you.

But first I feel I should warn you…

Your kidneys clean your blood. They filter out waste water, minerals and other products, and produce urine to get it all out of the body. So far so good.

But sometimes those waste salts and minerals collect together and harden, turning into tiny little crystals and stones which get lodged in between your kidneys and your bladder, in the bladder itself, or between your bladder and the outside world.

The tubes that connect your bladder and your kidneys (and of course your bladder and the outside world) are very small and narrow, so these stones can get stuck and cause excruciating pain. As you know, it’s incredibly unpleasant.

Now I didn’t know it when I developed my stones, but in fact they can do more than just cause you pain.

Depending on where they are located, they can cause various long lasting infections and even permanent kidney or bladder damage.

Experts also believe waiting for the stone to pass on it’s own (sometimes through brute force on your part!) is not a good idea since it tends to make the condition worse, and exposes you to high levels of stress and trauma.

The real danger from kidney stones lies in their unpredictability and potential for damage. It’s vital that you dissolve kidney stones quickly, and not just because they hurt like hell!

Simple: you have to break down the stones so that they are small enough to pass to the outside world without getting stuck.

The hard part is actually doing it. They’re stuck somewhere inside your body, so it’s not like you can just grind them up by hand yourself.

Here’s some ways NOT to do it…

Some use sound waves, some use ultrasound, some use infrared beams, and I’ve even heard of some that use much more dangerous rays like X-rays! Most also require patients to be under anesthetic because it’s so painful!

While the theory might sound OK, can you imagine what these things are doing to the rest of your insides? Whatever it is, it’s not good. There are much better, safer, natural ways to dissolve kidney stones than this!

Well, I don’t know about you, but the idea of tying my body into a pretzel shape with a kidney stone squeezing around inside me does not fill me with joy. That’s going to hurt, and it’s going to hurt a lot.

Plus, who knows if it’ll even work? If it were as easy as doing a few situps, or wobbling your stomach around, don’t you think we’d all know about it by now? Forget it!

Plus, who knows what ingredients the manufacturers put in there… Steer well clear of pills – they’re a waste of money and a waste of time.

Surgery is risky, expensive and an absolute last resort.

You can help avoid the chances of needing surgery by dealing with your kidney stones at home, as soon as you first notice them. The earlier you catch them yourself, the easier it is to use my technique to clear them, and the quicker you can be back to your normal healthy self.

Now I know what you’re thinking…

The answer is in the secret that I literally tripped over when I was blindly fumbling around my living room in the middle of the night…

I had just knocked over one of our bookshelves on the way back from the bathroom, and decided to ignore it and sort out the mess in the morning. As I gingerly tiptoed past, I loudly and angrily stubbed my toe on a particularly large and uncomfortable book.

Bending down to see what I’d hit, I could just about see the cover in the faint glow coming around the corner from the bathroom. It looked ancient – all dusty and beaten up. It was called “Home Remedies For Housewives”.

Heaving it up off the floor, I took it back to bed. I hoped that these housewives might be able to help me out with the small matter of the kidney stones that had been giving me grief for the last couple of weeks.

I knew it was a long shot, but I opened the book and scanned through the chapters anyway. I couldn’t believe what I saw. They actually had an entry for kidney stones!

I read it quickly, and went to sleep as fast as I could.

The next morning I woke early, grabbed the book and hurriedly flipped it open to the right page. I followed the remedy. It was easy… all I had to do was find a few well known and easily available foods, eat them in a particular amount and order, and then wait.

The foods were specially chosen for their healing properties. When you eat them together in this particular combination, they form a stone-busting remedy like nothing else!

Within hours, I could feel it getting to work. Quite suddenly, the urge to pee crept up on me. I was dreading it, but I had to go. To my utter surprise and amazement, I could pee with much less pain, and…

In fact, I almost looked forward to going to the bathroom because I knew it would be such a change from the nightmare of before – imagine what it would be like to pee wherever and whenever you like without stress, worry or pain… bliss!

The secret is in the “superfoods” that the housewives recommended, the combination of taking those foods together, and the timing of it all for maximum effectiveness.

When you combine everything, it’s like a dedicated kidney stone crushing machine that works naturally inside your body, right from the moment you’ve swallowed the first bite.

When I realised that I was cured, I couldn’t keep it to myself. I began running around and telling everyone I knew the incredible story. I was almost literally “shouting from the rooftops”…

My friends’ immediate reaction was, “how did you do it?”. Some of them had suffered from kidney stones in the past, even for as long as a year before they naturally (and very painfully) passed the stones themselves.

They wanted to know how it worked, but they didn’t believe me when I told them it was so simple! A few were interested though (the clever ones), and they asked me to write it down for them.

So I did. I wrote the whole system down into a concise, step by step book that they, or anyone else, could follow. It was quick and easy. It had to be: some of my friends are very lazy indeed!

My guide turned out to be very popular! Then I had an idea – because kidney stones are a living nightmare for so many people, and because I want to help you get through it, I decided to make the book available to the general public.

A simple, step by step procedure for banishing your kidney stones overnight. All you need is a few household ingredients, and a few minutes spare in your day. Follow the guide, and you could be completely pain free as soon as tomorrow morning!

Honestly, it’s that easy. I’ve done it, my friends have done it, and thousands of other people world wide have done it too. Here’s how it works:

As soon as you begin, the ingredients are filtered into the urine in your bladder and rushed to the site of the stone. They get to work immediately, dissolving any mineral clumps or hard deposits.

Kidney stones are held together by a sticky substance known as mucin. Specialized ingredients in the “superfoods” can cause the stone to disintegrate because they attack the mucin and break it down. Smaller stones hurt less, and can be passed more easily.

One of the foods contains specific herbal extracts which has a cleansing effect on your urinary system. Basically, it increases the flow of water you pass. Thanks to the stone dissolving effect in Step 1, you can easily clear all blockages and flush out all your stones in no time.

The carefully chosen ingredients ensure that you are able to pass your stone without discomfort or danger of an infection.

Anti-microbial activity sets up a defence “wall” which prevents bacteria from invading your urinary system. Anti-inflammatory ingredients also keep your urinary tracts from swelling and becoming inflamed if they’re irritated by any movement of your kidney stones.

That means less pain, no damage on the way out and no infections to deal with afterwards.

Kidney stones recur in over 80% of all cases. Unless your kidneys regain the ability to keep minerals dissolved in urine, your kidney stones are more than likely to come back.

Active compounds in the housewives remedy introduce important and natural substances back into the urine and help resume normal function, and prevent stones from forming in the future.

Once you’ve got them, just follow the step by step “idiot-proof” instructions I’m about to give you, and say goodbye to your eye watering kidney stones forever!

It’s all thanks to the secret “superfoods”. They do all the hard work, and they’re very good at what they do.

You’d be crazy to NOT try this. So many people have , and it’s worked for them. Imagine it… getting rid of your kidney stones right now, and knowing that they’ll never come back to haunt you again.

With the “Beat Kidney Stones” manual, you can cure your kidney stones in record fast time. You’ll be pain free and back to peeing like a baby as early as tomorrow morning. How does that sound?

The original Housewives remedy was developed a long time ago, and the original ingredients are pretty hard to find now.

But don’t worry, I’ve brought the whole remedy up to date. Using the same principles as the Housewives used to pick their ingredients, I’ve managed to track down some modern alternatives which work just as well.

I’ve compiled everything into a simple, easy to use, step by step guide which you can download immediately, and use straight away. I’ve done all the hard work, all the research, all the trial and error and I’ve finally nailed down the perfect formula for busting kidney stones. It really doesn’t get any easier than this!

So how much does it cost? Well…

My guide is different. First, it actually works. Second, you can do it yourself, at home, in minutes. Third, it costs less than all of the other treatments on the market because I wanted it to be affordable for everyone.

Because my kidney stone busting manual is brand new, I’m offering a special discount to celebrate the official release.

Just think… you can get a discount now, and be back to peeing without pain by tomorrow. Or, you could wait, and possibly have to pay the full price tomorrow. Which would you rather do?

I know this kidney stone home remedy works. It’s helped me, it’s helped thousands of other people, and I know it can help you too.

While I’m 100% confident it will do what I’ve promised you it will, I want to give you some time to try it out for yourself. After you buy, you can try the guide for a full 30 days.

At any point in that 30 days, simply send me a single email and I’ll refund every penny of your purchase without a word, and we can still be friends.

But it gets better – here’s why it’s a DOUBLE guarantee.

If you’re still undecided after 30 days, you can have ANOTHER full 30 days to try it out. The same applies for your second trial period – simply send me a single email at any time and I’ll refund your entire purchase with no hard feelings.

There’s nothing else left to say, except good luck, and please let me know how fast you cure your kidney stones. I’m waiting for someone to break the current record… will it be you?

Download your copy now and find out!

YES! I am fed up of suffering with kidney stones

and painful pee, and I want to get rid of my

kidney stones overnight using the powerful

“superfoods” found in the Housewives remedy,

which I can download immediately after payment.

Your privacy and security is guaranteed. The “Beat Kidney Stones” guide is sold through ClickBank.com, a well known and respected digital marketplace. Your order will be safely processed through their military-grade secure servers, and your details will never be shared with anyone.

You have two clear choices at this point in time.

I don’t need to tell you which one of those is the right choice. You already know. And since you already know, may I congratulate you in advance on destroying your kidney stones with my remedy!

P.S. – Some very clever housewives cracked kidney stone pain many years ago. Unfortunately, their secrets got buried along with the “old wives tales” in ancient books that no-one ever read. That was until the fateful night when I had one of the worst attacks in kidney stone history…

What I discovered in that dusty old book changed my life forever: and I’ve never suffered from a kidney stone since. Now you can discover the same secrets, revived and brought up to date in my brand new guide. Order now and beat YOUR kidney stones today.

P.P.S – As many as 80% of people successfully cure their kidney stones. If you haven’t cured yours yet, it’s probably because you’ve been trying the wrong approach.

Pills are are a rip off, doctors are expensive, surgery is dangerous and electro-sonic shock wave therapy devices that “zap” you with cosmic rays are painful (the procedure is usually performed under anesthetic it hurts that much!)

My “Beat Kidney Stones” natural home remedy is different, and in another league to everything else. Not to mention it’s only a fraction of the cost! Try it today, and enjoy peeing pain-free tomorrow.

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Disclaimer – These statements have not been reviewed or approved by the FDA. All accounts here are in my opinion truthful as they have applied to my personal health and well being. You are responsible for your health. I am not a doctor, or your doctor. This website and all information contained within it or within materials downloaded from it is not medical advice, or a replacement for medical advice. Always consult your doctor.

Click here to get Dissolve Kidney Stones – Best Kidney Stone Home Remedy – Painful Urination at discounted price while it’s still available…

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Dissolve Kidney Stones – Best Kidney Stone Home Remedy – Painful Urination is backed with a 60 Day No Questions Asked Money Back Guarantee. If within the first 60 days of receipt you are not satisfied with Wake Up Lean

, you can request a refund by sending an email to the address given inside the product and we will immediately refund your entire purchase price, with no questions asked.

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[fixxofvixx]

HEALING RAVI - CHAPTER ONE (A Teaching VIXX Story)

OOOOOKAY!! HERE WE GO!

Here is Ravi’s intro chapter. Seriously, this took me forever! Haha. Its difficult to transition from putting “you did this…” to “she did this…” 😂😂 I had to catch myself several times. So if I missed one, please forgive me!

This chapter doesn’t have a whole lot. Just our couple being awkward and such. I hope you like it though.

I will probably have another chapter from this story and then post one for Taekwoon. After that, the stories will pretty much stand on their own.

Let me know if you guys like it or hate it.

As always, my ask is open for any questions and such.

Thank you for reading!

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

JiYoon eased herself into the room.  Her heart was doing backflips but she couldn’t deny someone that was in pain.  Wonshik had been kind to her so far and she felt the need to repay that.

Taekwoon’s girlfriend retreated and went to stand next to him.  JiYoon took her place next to Wonshik.  When she touched his hand, he jerked.  It was as if he was still in the haze of anger. The familiar feeling of fear crept into her mind and she wanted to run.  The only thing keeping her from that was the broken, bloody hand that she held in her own.

“Wonshik?"  His eyes shot up to meet her face in surprise.  It was only then that he had realized she was sitting in front of him.  Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. Several emotions flew across his face in a matter of moments.  

Why is he so upset?  JiYoon didn’t know what happened.  But, the hole in the wall looked suspiciously like a hand had gone through it. 

She grabbed the first aid kit and began wiping the blood off of his hand.  It was swelling fast and knew he was in a good amount of pain. 

After his hand was clean she placed it on her knee and had to bite back the urge to cringe at the contact.

How am I going to be able to live in society when I can’t even stand a hand on my knee-that I put there?!

"Wonshik, this might hurt a little bit, but I promise that I can fix it." 

He nodded at her statement and kept his eyes on her face. He was so taken with her, so fast. He wanted to protect her. He wanted her heartbeat to speed up in response to his affection. Not because she was afraid of him. He noticed how her hands shook. He hadn’t missed the small flinch caused by his hand on her knee. To be able to touch her was a wonderful feeling for him. But, he only felt fear coming out in waves from her.

JiYoon focused on the bones in his hand and took several deep breaths. She placed one hand under his and one on top. She closed her eyes and let her mind visualize what needed to be fixed. She could see the room brighten from behind her eyelids and she knew that her hands were glowing now. Opening her eyes she locked her eyes onto Wonshik’s. His bright blue irises crackled and sparkled until they went to a deep, beautiful blue-grey. They were utterly remarkable but she forced herself to focus. She could feel the bone fragments set themselves back into place and the inflamed tissue receded. It took only around twenty seconds to fully heal the hand but it felt like an eternity having to stare into Wonshik’s eyes. Finally, the hand was as good as new. His tears had dried up and pain was no longer etched into his features.

She leaned down, lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed the top of it. She realized what she had done only after her lips met his skin.

What in the hell did I do that for?! Her cheeks turned pink and she froze. She had just been so relieved that he wasn’t in pain anymore and her body acted on its own.

"N Hyung?” Jaehwan was the first to speak, thankfully breaking the awkward silence.

“Yeah?”

“Will you break my jaw for me?” Jaehwan’s comment resulted in Wonshik snapping his eyes up to the older member, irises tinged in red. Jaehwan winked and quickly left the room.

When Wonshik’s eyes fell on JiYoon’s again, they immediately softened and returned to the normal ice blue. He raised his hand, closing and opening it repeatedly to test it out.

“That’s awesome! There’s no pain at all. Its like it never happened.” He smiled at her, causing her to blush and lower her gaze from his. He leaned down further to catch her eyes again. He had to force himself not to hug her.

“Thank you.”

Wonshik looked up at Hakyeon, sending a silent message that the leader read loud and clear.

Hakyeon quickly ushered everyone out so the two could talk in private.

“You’re welcome.” She still had her head down, playing with the hem of her shirt. Wonshik looked once again at the beauty in front of him. He knew he would have to handle this, and her, slowly.

“May I ask a question?” Her voice was quiet and feminine.

God, she’s cute. Wonshik had to compose himself before answering her.

“Of course. You are always welcome to talk to me. Ask me anything.” His voice was deep and sincere. JiYoon liked it. But, she wouldn’t be telling him that.

“Why did you punch the wall? I don’t mean to pry. And you don’t have to ans-”

“You.” Wonshik was nothing if not painfully honest. He wanted her to know someone cared for her.

She stopped short and stared at him.

Me? What did I do? He hit the wall because of me? Was he angry at me?

“I’m sorry. D-did I do something?”

“No!” She jumped when he raised his voice a bit, in hopes of reassuring her. He took a deep breath and continued calmy. “No, of course not. I, uh, accidentally overheard what you were saying next door and I…I just got so mad. I wasn’t purposefully listening! I’m just really curious about you and I think I just instinctively tuned in.” His words came out in a rush. His ears turned pink and he chuckled nervously. It took her a minute to process everything.

Why would he be mad over that? It wasn’t his fault.

She looked back to the others for help and a tiny gasp escaped her throat. It was only now that she realized that they were alone. She hadn’t heard the others leave. Panic consumed her.

“O-oh! Everyone left.” She was suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was sitting to Wonshik. She used her hands to slowly slide herself back until she was a good three feet away.

“Four years?”

Wonshik’s stayed absolutely still. He knew that if he moved too fast or tried to get closer, she would bolt. He was surprised that she was still sitting in here with him.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now. But please don’t hold it all in. Whatever you want to talk about, I’m here.” She gave him a small nod so he continued. “I can’t imagine what all you’ve been through but believe me, you’ll never see them again. I’ll make sure of that. You are safe here with us….with me.”

JiYoon raised her head to meet his eyes. The calming blue of his eyes was a welcoming contrast to the silver that she had seen for so long. She believed him. For some strange, unknown reason-she believed him. It was a new feeling for her. She returned his kindness with a smile and his face lit up.

“I really appreciate you all taking me in. I-Its the best I’ve been treated in a long time. I just….don’t want to talk about everything just yet.”

“That’s okay. We don’t have to. Just find me when you’re ready, okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded and went to stand. Wonshik followed but made no move towards her.

“You should get some sleep now. Then later we can party over at Noona’s place.” He moved his shoulders up and down in a cheezy dance move that made her smile.

“I’m not sure if I will be able to sleep. I’m scared that when I close my eyes, I’ll have nightmares.”

“Hmm, you could try listening to some music. Here,” He went over to his desk and picked up an old mp3 player. “There’s a playlist on here for when I want to relax. It should help.”

He walked over, towering over her because of his height and handed her the player.

Shit, how tall is this guy?

She was trying so hard no to back away from him. Surprisingly, it was easier to resist than earlier. She felt a bit more comfortable with Wonshik for some reason.

Maybe, just maybe, she could become normal again.

“Thank you again for fixing my hand. I’m sorry you had to come over here for that.”

“It’s no problem. It’s what I do. Its the least I can do for getting me out of that place.” She paused at the doorway. “You should get some sleep to. I will see you later.”

Wonshik smiled and nodded. He prayed sleep would come fast so he could see her again.