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anticomedygarden · 1 year ago

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England's got a new queen! part 3

part one | ao3 link

"And here's the room where Nixon told his family he was gonna resign," June says, gesturing into the dark room.

"Lovely," Pez says brightly.

"It's also the room where Nancy Reagan found out Ronald Reagan was shot," Nora adds.

"Even better." He turns to June, and his light purple hair - the hair that he apparently dyed especially for this trip - catches the light. It looks good. "I trust I'm not staying in a room that has anything to do with either of those men?"

"Of course not," June assures him. "You're staying with me."

Pez raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And where are you staying?" he asks Nora.

"Alex's room." When the entire White House Trio is staying at the Residence, she has her own room, but when Alex isn't there, she moves everything in there to the left five degrees. She's up to 20, and he hasn't said anything.

It's exhilarating.

They finally reach June's room so Pez can dump his stuff, and June fires off more texts to Bea, Alex, and Henry in the hopes that something gets through. Nora isn't optimistic.

"Hey, are either of you hungry? It's just about lunchti-"

A blaring alarm pierces through the rest of June's words, and they all jump.

"That's the fire alarm," June says, brown eyes wide.

"Should we not be running?" Pez asks, calm demeanor visibly straining. Nora can't blame him. This was supposed to be safer than his apartment.

"What if it's a ploy to get us all outside and in one place?" June points out.

They all stare at each other, wasting possibly precious time. There's no one else in this part of the building at this time of day, so it's not like they can ask someone what to do.

Just then, the sound of firetrucks and other emergency vehicles makes itself known over the still blaring fire alarm, and suddenly, the whole situation seems a lot more real.

Nora does the math. "Run."

The next day, Henry and Alex don't even consider going back to the trails. They don't even decide what to do with their day until about 1 p.m., an hour after they get up.

They don't mean to stay in bed that long; they're legs just hurt really bad.

At the kitchen island, Henry looks up from his pancakes. "I was thinking we could go swimming today."

Alex nearly groans at the thought of more exercise. "Are you sure? Yesterday was a lot."

Henry nods. "Swimming is good for sore muscles, and there's a pond near here."

Oh god, Alex didn't even think of the walk to get there. It better not be too bad because Cash left a note before they got up that he was already on the trails.

Henry must sense his thoughts, because he hurries to say, "The pond isn't even a quarter mile from here."

Still not ideal, but, "That sounds fine."

Which is how, 30 minutes later, Alex is shucking off his shirt and shoes and jumping into glittering blue water, Henry right behind him.

When he resurfaces, Henry is right next to him, and Alex has the sudden urge to grab onto him and not let go.

Huh. Trauma has a funny way of showing itself, doesn't it? It's not like they haven't been back to the lake house since 2020 or that he can't be around water without getting anxious. In fact, they've mostly managed to work through a lot of the problems that had stemmed from that trip. Maybe it's the isolation leaving no distractions, or the annoyingly fresh air making his mind work faster that's bringing back the memories, or maybe it's the weird/bad feeling that still won't go away.

Whatever it is, he tries to reassure himself that Henry would never leave again, which he knows. That, and he literally can't leave, not without at least alerting Cash and making lots of noise.

Anyway, Alex doesn't even try to resist the urge and pounces on his boyfriend, pulling them both under. They struggle for a few minutes before popping back up for air. Henry may take a knee to the stomach, but Alex certainly can't be blamed under these conditions.

They wrestle for a while longer and then relax while treading water, and they even play a rather violent game of Marco Polo.

By the time they go back to the cabin, they're both pleasantly tired, and Alex can't even remember why he ever felt uneasy in the first place.

All three of them take off running toward the nearest staircase, Nora in the lead.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait and make sure it's safe? I don't want to be assassinated," June shouts over the sirens and alarms.

"Better assassinated than burned to death by a fucking building fire!" Nora reasons, and is 100% right.

Pez breaks in. "I agree. Assassination means you made it."

"I want a third option!" June exclaims.

If only there was one.

It doesn't take long to get to an exit, and soon they're out on the back lawn along with various staffers.

Oh, and there's Zahra.

"What is going on?" June demands, ignoring the phone pressed to her ear.

Zahra holds up a finger, and they wait for her to finish her phone call.

"Mhm...yeah...yep, okay, love you, bye." She hangs up and faces them. "What do you want?"

"Hold on, was that Shaan?" Pez asks gleefully. He shares Alex's obsession with Shaan and Zahra, and, honestly, it's kinda hilarious. It's become somewhat of a norm for one of them to text the group chat with some stupid update like, "Zahra is reading The Catcher in the Rye," or, "Shaan is sexting Zahra again." Nora wouldn't say it's one of the reasons she gets up in the morning, but...it totally is.

Zahra ignores Pez and turns to June. Good choice. "What do you want?"

"What's going on?" June asks again.

Zahra holds her hands up in the air. "The fire alarm went off."

"Thanks, that's helpful," June deadpans. "Do you know anything else?"

Zahra rolls her eyes. "As of thirty seconds ago, everyone we know that was in the Residence is fine and on the front lawn."

They all breathe a sigh of relief. "Do we know if-"

Once again, June is cut off, this time by Zahra's phone.

"Hello?...Okay...yes, ma'am, they're with me...okay...great, we're on our way." She hangs up and shoves her phone in her pocket, and they wait for her to tell them what's going on. "Good news. There's no fire."

It sounds like good news, but Nora's mind immediately goes to murder. She asks, "Does that mean someone pulled the alarm on purpose, like, maybe to get us all outside in the same place?"

"No, a cook accidentally started a grease fire."

They all cheer. "Yay!"

So much for the murder theory, although they really can't rule it out yet. Still, though, Nora allows herself to relax. Just a little.

Of course, it has to end. All their phones buzz at the same time, and they glance at each other nervously.

It's a news update.

Pipe burst spotted at Buckingham Palace amidst Queen's sudden illness. Royal family remains silent.

She looks back up to see the others' worried faces.

It's practically official.

Something terrible is going on here.

When they get back to the cabin, Henry goes to shower, and Alex goes to start dinner, and he really means to. Really.

But, while he's looking through the cupboards for pots (of which there are none) and pans (of which there are nine), he happens to find a cupboard full of marshmallows, Hershey's bars, and graham crackers.

He can't be blamed if he starts building the fire instead of building dinner. Besides, Cash is right there with him.

"This is damn good," the bodyguard says as he stretches his legs out in front of him. The man somehow isn't deathly sore even after hiking all day. "Where'd you find this stuff?"

Alex grins. "In one of the cupboards. None of it's even expired yet."

"Nice."

A few minutes later, Henry comes out of the cabin followed closely by David who immediately runs up to Alex to beg for food. Alex breaks off a piece of graham cracker for him.

"I thought you were making dinner," Henry says.

Alex waves his marshmallow stick at him. "I did."

Henry just laughs.

Bea Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor is having an absolutely wonderful time. After all, her least favorite person in the world may finally be doing her place justice, Bea and her sister-in-law are bonding for once over the general horribleness of said least favourite person, and she is currently watching her older brother run around like a chicken with its head cut off as a burst pipe that could very well be an act of terror destroys a centuries old palace.

"Then there was this one time before our wedding when she asked me how the weight loss was going," Martha says, rolling her glass through her fingers. "Mind you, I was underweight at the time from stress and could barely keep down crackers."

Bea rolls her eyes in sympathy. She may not have been particularly fond of her brother's chosen person at first, but she has since learned that the woman has depth, particularly since she started working with charities dedicated to lessening the impact of eating disorders.

"That's right, Philip, perhaps some paper towels will fix it," Bea calls when he emerges from the flooded side again with a roll of paper towels tucked under an arm. Martha giggles beside her, mimosa in one hand.

"I was trying to save an antique rug," he snipes. "Besides, I don't see you helping."

"The only thing that can help right now are sandbags and the world's best plumber." She sips her water while Martha questions Philip on the pipe, but Bea imagines the situation is much the same as it was an hour ago when they first heard the boom.

See, the pipe didn't simply burst. It exploded in one of the sitting rooms, creating a small geyser and a massive hole in the wall. Probably millions of dollars worth of old furniture had been destroyed, but thankfully nothing particularly important to history. The bigger problem is that it was still leaking. With minimal staff, it had been up to them to take care of it, and Bea had gladly allowed Philip to take the reins.

Now, though, looking at his damp hair and sad little roll of paper towels, she feels completely justified. It really is a hilarious situation they've gotten into.

She tunes back into Philip and Martha's conversation just in time to hear, "Any news on the Queen?"

Philip fidgets a bit, a sign of deep discomfort in a man made to go through prince training. "Mum said she's getting worse."

Shyly, he looks down, and Bea revisits a thought she had when they were first made aware of Mary's sudden ailment.

Her brother probably isn't taking the news as well as Bea, and he may actually be hurting at the idea of her death.

She swallows her pride and says, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Philip waves her away, face pinched. "You don't have to pretend for me. I'll be fine."

Strangely, Bea believes him, and one look at Martha tells her her sister-in-law feels the same way.

Just then, Princess Catherine emerges from a corridor to the left looking forlorn.

It's still odd for Bea to see her mother being an active participant in anything, and she almost feels bad that this is one of things Catherine has to return to. Her mother has been taking it remarkably well, though, almost as if she had been waiting for it since getting back in the game. Bea is actually quite proud of her.

Back in the present, they all stand, snapping to attention.

"How is she?" Philip asks.

Catherine sighs. "Much the same."

"Is her blood work back yet?"

"No. It seems whatever lab we're using is running every test imaginable, or they just haven't figured it out and don't want to tell us."

Bea decides to break in. "What did you come out here to tell us, Mum?" She's been in with Gran almost this whole time; something must be up.

Catherine sighs again. "An entire PPO team called in sick."

There are three identical noises of shock and outrage, and Bea says, "Do you think it could be related?"

She hadn't really believed the murder theory, but if their security is now partially out, it may be time to consider it.

"I don't know," Catherine says carefully.

Before she can continue, Philip says, "Of course it is. The Queen is dying, security is understaffed, and no one can contact Henry. It can't be a coincidence anymore."

"Not so fast," Catherine says, holding up a hand. "All of the ones that called out were contacted and are indeed visibly sick."

Bea wonders what that means. Perhaps an inspector went to each individual house and waited for them to vomit.

"Is that proof, though?" Martha asks nervously. "Could they not have been nefariously exposed? It seems an awful coincidence that both security and Her Majesty end up like this at the same time."

Bea has to take a moment to appreciate her sister-in-law using the word 'nefariously' in the same breath as calling the Queen 'Her Majesty,' the same woman she had described as an 'arrogant little shithead' not five minutes ago.

Philip nods. "Yes, exactly. If anything, this is just further proof of a plot regardless of the intentions of our PPOs."

This time, Catherine doesn't disagree, and Bea knows that they are well and truly screwed.

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rabbitindisguise · 2 years ago

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Augh just had a frustrating call with my attorney, found out that overly supportive doctor's rfcs are considered less credible by judges at hearings and it's like . . . then what the hell are you supposed to do anyways

I read the notes they have and it's just so frustrating because they don't think I have evidence for medical problems so they don't run tests but don't have evidence because they don't run tests- the age old problem, but now apparently judges don't even consider a medical opinion not based on these tests (often things that can't be tested for) they can't run for insurance reasons

Also like "objective medical signs" is such a bullshit term. The fuck do you mean "objective medical signs?" Sensitivity to light is subjective as hell and an objective medical sign, depression assessments are subjective as hell and an objective medical sign, and yet when I can see muscle spasms and feel a joint pop into place it's not objective medical signs because they think an x ray is more important. It's more like "the highest bar you can pass to be considered to have this problem" sign. Or "most expensive and time consuming medical sign."

Most doctors when diagnosing things are not focused on building a case for SSI, they're focused on their JOB (medical care) and hunted for sport when people feel like a disabled person gets money they don't deserve. I'm not saying doctors aren't ableist, because they often are, but doctors don't want to screw around with disability paperwork because there's a desperate needy person trying to survive and a government institution that will strip them on their livelihood breathing down their neck. And the standards are so exact, so precise that even one verb could bring down a whole case.

I'm so tired of caring about this, I'm doing everything wrong and the person who's telling me what to do is giving me so much information that conflicts with people who have actually won disability cases. I feel like on some level we mean the same thing and are getting confused, but she seems to not be aware that doctors can do things wrong on purpose, and I seem to not be aware that doctors who mean well can still mess it up. I keep getting pats on the head that I'm doing well but what I'm doing is trying to make things easier in between feeling like garbage and feeling like the care I'm getting is always just short of helping.

I'd rather be working on figuring out my actual problems rather than hoping that the way I'm going about it doesn't sabotage my ability to feed myself in the future.

#personal #disability #ableism

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mintmatcha · 4 years ago

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quickie - dabi X hero!reader

Dabi x cis!fem reader

CW: public sex, voyeurism, standing sex, doll as a nickname, praise

a/n: thanks to shan’s discover server for dealing with my bullshit creating this <3

"We can't keep doing this."

The figure, leaned against the graffitied brick of a building, tosses back his hood as he takes another drag from his cigarette. The black of his hair, streaked with the occasional red, shines under the streetlamp. His burns are worse than the last time you’ve seen him, stretching from his face to his knuckles.

"You say that everytime." Dabi drops the cigarette butt and crushes it under the heel of his boot. "But you always come anyway."

You scuff your heel against the concrete, listening to how it echoes down the empty street. The dive bar you two stand in front of long ago cleared, all of the patrons disappearing into the night.

Maybe heading home. Most likely not.

You should be heading home too.

"I'm only here because you asked me to be here." you ask cooly, forcing your eyes to stay glued to your phone. You don't look away until his tight grip clutches your shoulder. Against the chill of the night, his touch is comforting.

"Don't play coy." he scoffs, "I never asked you to be here, little hero."

You flinch at the nickname, checking your surroundings once again. Being recognized as a hero would mean trouble in this neighborhood. You already clearly don't belong; you had dressed nicely for a date- a date with another hero, someone good for you-

only to abandon him the moment this asshole texted you.

"I just told you I was bored," Dabi smirks, the stitches at the corners of his mouth pulling as he eyes you up, "And you decided to entertain me, apparently."

You wish your heart wasn't beating out of your chest. You're not quite sure what it was about him- maybe the danger, maybe daddy issues, maybe the horrifying idea that you genuinely cared about him, maybe something entirely different- but you were wrapped around his fingers.

And he is well aware of it.

He hooks a finger under the strap of your dress and pulls it down and off your shoulder with a languid pace, eyes tracing over the exposed skin. "I like this. Kinda fancy, kinda skimpy-" His tongue runs over the edge of one of his incisors, his piercing catching the low light. "It's like you're asking for trouble."

You just shrug. "Maybe I am looking for trouble."

"I told you to stop playing coy." His hand cups your chin, dragging it up to look at him directly. His gaze is dark, hungry, and more than a little dangerous. "Are you here to get dicked down or what?"

You try to sound nonchalant, but your voice is high and tight in your throat. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

“Aw, come on now, lil hero. Don’t pretend to be a brat." he grins, pulling your head higher, “Lemme hear you say it. Tell me you came here to get fucked."

“I-” you hesitate.

“Come on, say it.” he takes your hand in his and, for a second, it's sweet- but then he guides it down to the front of his pants, cupping you over his crotch to feel the beginning of his excitement. "Say you wanna get fucked."

You swallow, and then gently squeeze his cock. "I want you to have sex with me."

"Nuh-uh. That's not what I said." he leans into you, lips brushing against yours, blue eyes never leaving yours, "Say you want me to fuck you."

"I want you to fuck me."

“Aw, dirty girl.” he purrs, "What would everyone think? The perfect sidekick, begging for a villain's cock?"

He closes the gap and catches the plush of your lip between his teeth- hard. You gasp and he doesn't waste the opportunity; his tongue finds yours, rushed and messy.

The kiss breaks, a string of spit connecting your lips for a microsecond. "Turn around."

Before you can react, Dabi's hand grips your forearm and twists it behind you, forcing you against the wall. The prickle of the brick digs into your cheek, but you can't focus on the pain- only the heat of his hands: one holding you still, the over sliding up your skirt.

"H-here?" you whisper, but don't resist. "Someone could see."

"Yeah-" his chuckle is low, "That's the fun part."

He's quick to flip the fabric up and over your ass, exposing your lacy panties to the night air. His palms your ass and shakes it, eyes glued to how it shakes and quivers under his touch.

"Very sexy." he coos almost mockingly, pulling the elastic of your panties so taut that it digs into your skin. You flinch when it snaps back, further pressing yourself into the wall, and Dabi laughs.

"Aw, sensitive little thing, aren'tcha?" he grinds against you, the rough fabric of his jeans doing nothing to hide the swell of his cock. It rubs between your ass cheeks, the friction of demin already burning. The only respite in the cool metal of his studded belt, smooth and slick against you.

"Are you sure you can handle this, baby?" he tugs you closer by the bicep, arching your back until your head falls back. Like this, he looks down at you, a wolfish grin on his face. "I'd be so sad if I broke you."

"No, you wouldn't-" your free arm slides down his front, thumb dipping into the waistband and fingers rolling over the buckle.

"Yeah, you're right." he helps you unclasp the buckle, the gentle tinkling the only sound that echoes down the empty street. It hits you then that, despite the late hour, someone could approach at any moment and catch you being fucked by a wanted criminal.

The scrape of denim is replaced by hot, smooth skin and a tickle of his happy trail. Dabi lets the weight of his cock fall against your folds and a warm trickle of precum grazes your cheek. The night only seems to be getting colder, but the latent heat of Dabi's skin only seems to build.

"Fuck--" he ruts up against you unexpectedly, "You're fucking dripping-" You can feel his cock sliding against you, the wetness of your arousal letting him easily slip between your thighs. The head of his cock ghosts near your clit, not nearly the pressure you need. "God, maybe I'll just fuck you like this-"

A whine escapes your throat before you can tamp it down.

"Oh, don’t be a brat.” he pulls back, “I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a gold foil packet, flashing it to you. You two agreed on protection since the first hook up- your insistence. He quickly rips into it with his teeth and rolls the condom down, barely covering his length before he pushes against your entrance, his fat head easily popping inside despite the stretch. You expect him to fully bury himself in one stroke, like he always does, but he stays there inside you, his cock barely past the petals of your pussy. Impatiently, you wiggle back against him, desperate for more, but he braces against you.

"Slow down, now-" he clicks his tongue before pressing a surprisingly soft kiss into your temple. Then, he shoves you forward again, face smushed into the rocky brick. "Lemme enjoy this properly."

You teeter on your high heels, legs already shaking as he finally rolls his hips forward inch by inch. Under his breath, he mutters so low that you can't understand him, but you catch clippings of praise and curses.

His pace is unusually slow, letting you savor the fullness of his whole cock before he pulls back to the tip. His breath is uncomfortably warm against the back of your neck. The scent of ash and tobacco that clings to him makes your stomach turn, but you can't help but want more of it- more of him.

The hand of your hip, unnaturally warm, almost burning, slips around to the front of the panties, dipping into the fabric to trace supply circles around your clit. It's nice- soft and gentle-

but you don't fuck Dabi to be gentle.

With your free hand, you push against the wall, forcing him to sink into you, hard. "Fucking hell-" he chokes out a groan as you start bucking against him. He uses your forearm as leverage, pulling and pushing down his length faster and faster. "That's it-- bounce like that- oh, good girl-"

Your voice, pathetic and lewd, fills the stress, but Dabi does nothing to muffle it. Of course he doesn't- he likes the risk. He wants to be caught, wants people to see him splitting you in half. Anyone even remotely close would be able to hear the wet, sloppy sound of your pussy, but you can't find it in yourself to care.

Once you get the rhythm he wants, Dabi releases your arm and grabs on to the front of your dress, palming your tits through the fabric greedily. It's rough, almost bruising, squishing you solely for his pleasure.

"So soft," he breathes. After a moment, he decides the fondling isn't enough and wraps his fingers under the hem, digging into the fat of your chest. With a firm tug, he snaps the remaining strap, freeing one of your tits into the cool night air. You don't even have time to shiver before his hand takes it place against you.

Dabi always runs warm, but something about sex- albeit the desire or the physical contact- makes him hot. The stroke of his hands, the lips across your shoulder blade, the dip of his stomach against your back- all of them leave ghosts, trails of goosebumps where heat used to be.

Even through the condom, his cock radiates heat deep inside your cunt, twitching and pulsing with every stroke. His fingertips never leave their mark, rolling your clit steadily.

"Y-you gonna cum for me?" he says through his teeth, "Gonna let me f-feel it? Let me make you feel good? Oh, such a good girl for me--"

The pressure on your clit all at once becomes too much and you cum, knees wobbling and threatening to give out. Your pace threatens to falter, but Dabi muscles through it for you.

Dabi's lips find your neck, right below your jaw. A flick of the tongue is followed by the sharp pain of his teeth digging into the soft spot. Overstimulation hits your quickly, your pussy twitching every stroke.

"'Is too much." you hiccup, reaching behind you blindly. You manage to caress his face, the staples warm and wet with his sweat. He nuzzles into the hand, a surprisingly sweet gesture.

"Just- just take it." he growls. The pace is suddenly lopsided, the rhythm gone as he starts to cum.

The gentle pulsing of his cock is immediately followed by pooling warmth. No, warmth is an understatement. It's hot, almost unbearably. You keen away from him, but he stays locked against you.

"G-get off," you hiccup, "You're t-too hot."

"You're not so bad yourself, doll." He withdrawals and quickly peels the condom off, tossing it to the side. He spins you around, running a thumb under your eye. Flecks of mascara and eyeliner stick to his skin. "Especially like this." he gestures to you as a whole. Running makeup, ripped dress, quivering legs, your own cum glossing your thighs- you look destroyed.

"You should walk around like this all the time." Dabi wipes his stomach with his shirt, haphazardly smearing the wetness more than cleaning it, before redoing his buckle. He takes his time, clearly not concerned about being exposed. "On second thought- nah. Just wear this for me."

You shimmy your dress down, trying to cover your ass as quickly as possible. "You're disgusting."

He throws his head back and laughs. "You didn't seem to think so a couple minutes ago."

"Fuck you."

Dabi shakes a cigarette free from the carton and sticks it between his teeth. "Aw, doll-" he dots the tip with his finger and it alights, deep orange against the dark of the night. "You just did."

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #mha smut #dabi #touya smut #minors do not interact #hotstuff

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lipstickstainz · 4 years ago

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true lies - s. r. (11/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: you know what's coming - the truth.

Warnings: angst, minor violence

Word Count: 2k

A/N: i listened to my favorite saddest songs while writing. be prepared. thanks for your kind feedback! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

JJ snaps you out of your thoughts. There's an expression on her face that you can't find the words for. "Y/N? What does she mean?"

You have to swallow. Your throat is tight and you can barely breathe, so you cling to her to keep from sinking to the floor. You can't take your eyes off the two in the interrogation room.

"What deal?" Spencer sits up straighter than he already does. His whole body is tense.

Cat shakes her head. "I thought you weren't here to talk about her or you."

When Spencer slaps the table with his palm, she doesn't even flinch. You do, the harder, and JJ's hands clench into fists. But you only notice this out of the corner of your eye. "What deal, Cat?" His tone is harsh, leaving no room for Cat's games.

She sighs. "Maybe you should ask her yourself. After all, she did come here with you, didn't she? I don't think she'd skip this dance." Cat looks past Spencer to the one-way mirror, straight through it, as if she knows you'd be standing right there. Her grin is crooked and ugly. "Come on, Y/N. You should know I don't bite. Not without notice, anyway."

You feel JJ's gaze on you as you enter the interrogation room without a word. You close the door behind you and out of the corner of your eye you notice Spencer looking at you. But your gaze is fixed straight on Cat. You stop right at the door.

"It's good to see you again, Y/N."

You don't have to be a mind reader to know what's going on in Spencer's head. It's practically written all over his face. Again?

"Hi, Cat," you reply curtly. You feel like shooting her.

"I always knew you lived dangerously. But I didn't think you were stupid. Yet you were the smartest one on your team. No offense, Spencie." She says it like she's bored out of her mind, not like the whole situation could completely escalate in the next second. Spencer tries not to let on, but you can read the confusion on his face. "I guess I was wrong about that."

"What are you talking about?" you ask, involuntarily taking a step forward. Cat takes it as a sign to keep talking.

"I know you killed my partner in crime. Must have been quite a mess, I'm told. Shot right through the head. Kudos, Y/N. I knew you were smart, but you're also badass. Who would have thought." She raises her hand and inspects her filthy and chewed fingernails. Her gaze drifts to you without her moving her head. She looks at you through her eyelashes, which makes her look crazy. "Quite a pity about him. But he was really just my accomplice's boyfriend. So, not worth mentioning."

Accomplice? Boyfriend?

It only takes a brief moment for everything to come together in your head. Apparently, all emotion falls from your face, because Cat looks extremely pleased. "You didn't play by the rules, Y/N. And now someone else has to pay for it."

In three steps, you've crossed the room and pulled Cat from her chair. Before Spencer can stop you, you push her full force against the nearest wall, causing a gasp to escape her mouth. You press your forearm against her throat and she lets out a hoarse laugh. Her gaze mirrors yours. Fierce and unyielding. The pressure on her throat intensifies and she has to cough.

You feel big hands on your shoulders, yanking you back so that you stagger and bump into the table. For a brief moment, you want to fight back as you leap forward again to put a stop to Cat once and for all, but Spencer extends his arm to allow some distance between you. You don't look at him. Out of anger and out of shame, because this isn't you.

"What's going on here?", he finally asks when you've pulled yourself together a bit and he's sure you won't kill her the next chance you get. "What's she talking about, Y/N?"

Cat's look is challenging and you know full well she's not going to say anything. She's dropped the bomb and now it's up to you to make sure the explosion isn't too devastating. You look at Spencer and tears form in the corners of your eyes. There's no way to get around it. And he better hear it from you than from some crazy psychopath. You owe him that much.

"When you were arrested", you begin, hoping your voice doesn't sound as brittle as it does, "it was clear to me from the start that Scratch couldn't be responsible. When you were taken to Millburn Correctional Facility instead of protective custody, it should have been obvious to the others. It was no accident that they sent you there. It was too personal." You can barely look at him, which is why you stare at the floor. "It couldn't have been Scratch, but there was no one else who had a score to settle with you." Your gaze shifts to Cat, "Except for her.

I had no proof, nothing. But I was one hundred percent sure she had something to do with it. So I talked to Emily. She gave me the day off, and I came here." You suppress the urge to knead your hands, so you shove them into your pants pockets. Your gaze wanders back to the floor, though you'd like to look at Spencer. You want to know what's going on inside him, but you don't dare. "Cat denied having anything to do with it at first, but I didn't believe her. And then she made a deal."

"And that included?" asks Spencer. You have to swallow.

"She would get you out of jail, after all, she put you in there too. I knew you wouldn't make it through jail. And not because you were too weak, but because I knew there were some people there who wouldn't bat an eye to hurt a FBI agent like you. And I couldn't stand that, so I went for it." With each word, your voice grows quieter, though you try to sound as determined as possible. But the pain weighs you down and takes away your breath. You remember the visit then, and what it had cost you.

"And what did she want in return?" Spencer's eyes glisten as if tears have formed in them. He blinks once, and the shine disappears. "What the hell did she want, Y/N?"

You can't stop the tears streaming down your cheeks Your heart is beating fast, like it's about to jump out of your chest. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for what follows. "She - she wanted me to leave you. Cat knew that prison could never hurt you the way I would if I abandoned you. If I left, with no explanation and no goodbye."

Spencer's shoulders sink and his muscles are no longer stretched to breaking point. You don't dare look at him, so you stare at Cat, whose grin has actually widened. Psychopathic sadist.

"Actually, Y/N was never supposed to come back either", she continues the explanation, but Spencer continues to look at you. "That was the deal. You weren't supposed to tell anyone about this and never come back, but you didn't stick to that. You thought if you killed the guy and I continued to be in here, you could go back home and get on with your life." Her grin disappears and suddenly she looks incredibly bitter. "Very reckless, if you ask me. My birdie knows you're back home, and as a warning, she left you a trail of dead married men. Apparently you got the message, after all, you're here. That they are dead is all your fault, Y/N. Because you couldn't stay away from your beloved Spencer." She looks from you to Spencer. "It's tragic, isn't it? She loves you so much that she took on all that pain just so you could get out of jail. How incredibly selfless of her. And I'm pretty sure you weren't exactly kind to her when she returned, were you, Spencie?"

Spencer and you can't look at each other, so heavy is the pain on your shoulders. All the anger, despair, and confusion that had spread through you since you saw each other again gives way to an all-consuming feeling of pressure that you can't shake. The only thing that can give you both some comfort is the clarity that has been created. Spencer now knows what really went on, and you no longer have to keep secrets from him. But the matter is far from over.

You look to Cat, but can't find the words. She's won.

You leave the interrogation room without looking at Spencer or saying another word. What could you have possibly said? JJ looks at you with widened eyes as you rush past her. She has her cell phone to her ear, probably talking to Emily, but calls after you, but you don't stop. The air in the building is stuffy and you feel like you're choking on it. Your heart is racing and you feel sick. You just want to get out.

"Y/N." Spencer's voice forces you to stop. You stop so jerkily that you almost fall. When you turn to face him, he's standing right in front of you. His gaze is hard. He opens his mouth, but he doesn't know exactly what to say either.

"I can't, Spencer", you beat him to it. You want to turn and keep walking, but his hand curls around your arm. At the touch, you're struck by lightning.

"Don't you think we should talk about this?"

You should. Definitely. "She had the men killed because I returned", you whisper. "She killed them because I couldn't take it anymore. Because I wanted to be with you. It's all my fault, Spencer. And I'll take the consequences for that."

"So you're just going to leave? Without explanation and without goodbye?"

You don't want to leave, quite the opposite. You would love to throw yourself into his arms, kiss him and never let go. You want to tell him you love him, but you can't. "I can't stay, Spencer. If I did, she would kill more people. I can't be responsible for that. I'm sorry."

You turn away from him, but as you take a step forward, Spencer pulls you back, making you slam against his chest. Your hands settle on the soft fabric of his shirt as his settle on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. His expression has changed. There is deep sadness in his eyes and he tries to blink away the tears that have formed in the corners of his eyes, but they fall down his cheekbones. All at once, he looks so young. "Promise me you'll come back? Back to me?" One of his hands clasps both of yours, still resting on his chest. He holds them tightly, afraid of losing you again.

You smile weakly at him and tears come to your eyes too. Your smile is honest, but sad. "I will always come back to you."

- tags -

@obsssedwithjustaboutanything // @ashwarren32 // @slytherinbth // @rexorangecouny // @candlemouse // @lexymoniqu // @m3sml // @username2002 // @calliecookie // @haylaansmi // @thehuntresswolf // @skyslowalking // @padsfirewhisky // @criminalminds4days // @criminallyoddsocks // @takeyourleap-of-faith // @vladsgirlxx // @justdianaz // @x2moonlight2x-blog // @countingthestarsinfinitely // @box-of-fandom-stuff // @sergeantbuckybarnes // @princesssmooshie // @sassiest-politician // @ littledm2000 // @a-broken-pact // @strawberry-tea // @sassy-hades // @danrad-rdj4ever // @takeyourleap-of-faith // @smell-my-twisted-shadows // @poeticsassandtrash // @wintrrrsoldier // @peaceluvnirvana // @jemimah-b99 // @lokislilslut // @advicefromnixxxx // @panicattheeverywherekid // @my-guilty-pleasures--of-life // @itsdars @pjmjams // @imagine-this-motherfucker // @sasbb23 // @fivedicksinatrenchcoat // @missyoumaybank // @blameitonthenight21 // @s-r-16 // @knee-coall // @hamlewis // @twodirtymindedgirls // @peoplejustcanthandlemywierdness // @imdefinitelyfloating // @crazyloca06 // @gardenroses1 // @saspencereid // @enchantedlove90 // @sizzlingclamturtlesludge // @moondustmemories // @bambi-is-my-name // @beg0neth0t420 // @william-shookespeare // @pancake2603 // @ayo-cowbelly // @herbstmelody // @frnks-stuff // @mimischaos // @lilxnvm // @archiveofadragon // @burnin-passion // @oddobsessionbutotay // @chaoticdreamsss // @ghostly-ginger // @knittingstudyblr // @gorbagreb // @biafbunny // @ayo-cowbelly // @ellyseveronica // @saspencereid // @takethee // @ethereal-stark // @shirayuki1204 // @spencerreidspp // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @stinkykay // @exzidss // @ifuckinghatepinapples // @youhaveabadconnection // @kaseyjohnson04 // @vampiracontessa // @princesssmooshie // @gardenroses1 // @r0s3mm // @willyoulovemeinthemorning // @rrtxcmt // @softpeteparker // @littleiswhattheycallme // @hoeyadoingbitch // @emmariexx // @oops-all-ajs / @reidemandweep // @oliwisstephhh // @g0lden-cth // @measure-in-pain

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one shot #Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #Jennifer jareau #Emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years ago

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I'm doing a drawing of Keefe, and i haven't drawn his hair yet and he looks like a whole entire shrimp. He looks like Caillou as a 12 year old, and that got me thinking about if it was ever said in the book that he didn't in fact have the bodytype of a 12 year old boy who just hit puberty. Like. Was it ever said??? Because if not I'm revoking his muscle privileges

okay okay so!! there are two distinct scenes I can remember where Keefe had his shirt off so we can check--I only remember the location of one but I'm pretty sure the second one happened....? Hoping I'm not mixing it up with a fanfic but who knows!! So first there's the instance in Nightfall where Keefe fights King Dimitar (the first to draw blood thrice thing), and part of that was Keefe taking off his shirt!! I think traditionally he was supposed to be wearing even less clothes but Dimitar was confident enough he let Keefe keep his pants (and also Shannon probably didn't want to write Keefe fighting in his underwear).

Let me find the page numbers for this hang on (i don't know why I leave these parts in but legit there's a time gap between when I say that and when I write the next sentence as I find it. it's like I'm talking to you). Page 320 of Nightfall: "Any other time Sophie might've noticed how Keefe's lean build showed a rather impressive amount of muscle tone when he added the shirt to the pile draped over her arm." Unfortunately, if you wanted to revoke his muscle pprivledges it would be going against canon, but that doesn't mean you can't! I mean, the fandom as a whole has a pretty "thanks for making the world and characters but I'm taking over now <33" attitude from her--Shannon's word is regarded as as sacred as other authors', so there'd be like no objection to us just ignoring that apparently Keefe has muscles and Sophie would've noticed had she not been fearing for his life.

Now I'm really curious on whether or not that second scene exists but I don't remember where!! it was!! Okay found it--page 66-67 of Legacy, but Sophie is focused more on how he has a scar from the aforementioned scene where he takes of his shirt and has muscles and fights the ogre king. No mention of his physique--which could be interpreted as him loosing it and as such it isn't mentioned anymore and his muscle privileges can be more easily revoked.

And while it's not exactly canon, we could use that deleted scene of the black swan initiation where Dex is self conscious compared to Keefe and Fitz as a reference. Keefe was said to look like a surfer and Fitz had "definitely been working out" and they were put in the same category when compared to Dex, so we can kinda infer that while Sophie didn't point it out, Keefe also has muscle tone there.

either way the fandom is very forgiving when it comes to messing with canon, so you are free to shrimpify Keefe and revoke all his uscle privledges <33. I hope your drawing went/is going well! This was sent a while ago so I'm assuming you've finished but then again I've got an unfinshed tamex piece from several months ago sitting in my drafts so maybe not. Also I've always found Keefe's hair to be the hardest to draw because it's the most described part of him/the part drawn the most attention to so it feels really easy to mess up...but maybe that's just me!!

Also I don't know if you actually wanted me to go back through the books and find quotes but I did so...you're welcome?

#i didn't confuse the second scene with a fanfic fortunately!!#I thought I did because I helped nattie find that scene over a year ago to reference for one of their fics #but until I figured that out was just going 'sure hope i'm not confusing nattie's fics with canon' because they write in shannon's style #so easier to get confused!!#but back to the topic at hand--shrimp keefe is a wonderful keefe #even if he isn't canon #he can be caillou in our hearts #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #quil's queries #keefe sencen #nonsie

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princessdong · 4 years ago

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One: The Girl In Her Dreams

Masterlist

Of all the possible outcomes of having a human in her house, Joy would've never thought that this one would be the one. After you left the house with Jiu, who seemed more than happy to get out of there, you hadn't left her head.

She could still see your eyes, never quavering with fear, or showing anything but the utmost disinterest, and only to be replaced by fury. Your eyes were thunders after she let go of your throat, and she was sure that you were going to hit her, she even braced herself to it, but nothing came. She even let herself not move a muscle when you practically mocked her by not believing her true self.

Yet, the fact that you were daring enough to get into an apparent abandoned house, and go as far as to explore it, with no regard for who might be in there, it made you so fascinating in her eyes that she couldn't stop thinking about it.

In her whole life, every encounter with a human had two ways: Either they were completely scared that they could've piss their pants, or completely turned on by the idea of having a vampire sucking their blood. But you didn't. And she had to find you, before you consumed her brain entirely.

That's why she, for the first time in two centuries, she got out of the house for a reason that wasn't feeding herself. She assumed that you had taken the ferry back to Mokpo, as she could hear Jiu groan at the fact that they had to get into the ferry so early, and only that stopped when you told her that she could get breakfast at Mokpo. In that moment, those were the only things she needed to launch herself into the quest of finding you. But, as the ferry moved, she seemed to remember that she was not aware if you were in Mokpo, or if you flew out of the country, or even if you were alive. After all, it's been a week.

Joy quickly remembered why she wasn't out of her house in two thousand years, and it was because of the noisiness. She should've asked Yeri to perform a locator spell on you, or get someone to find you, but she was impulsive, and she was out there, in Mokpo's port, not knowing what to do, where to start. Of course, she had her whole immortality to search for you, but you weren't immortal.

Should she get into Seoul? Should she start searching there? Should she be afraid that you were in another country? She didn't knew. Plus, all those people were making her uneasy, she could hear them all, and smell their blood, even hear their heartbeat. It was a mess, she was getting overwhelmed, but her efforts were in not pouncing into some human. She was no rogue vampire, she was four thousand and something of years, and she had more control in her than a baby vampire.

Among the madness of the busy port, she heard something that she needed to hear.

“Jiu! You should stop from going with Y/N to those places! You can't keep up like this.”

She turned around, trying to search for the voice, and the girl she saw with you. There she was, with her purple hair falling from her shoulders, wearing something so simple as a shit and a pair of jeans. Next to her, there was a girl, with dark brown hair, and they were holding hands. She started to get closer, trying to listen, and to think how to get them to tell her location.

“I know, Jagi, but I don't wanna let her go all alone, she might get in trouble one day. And she's my best friend.” Joy heard Jiu say, and she smirked, knowing that you had been face to face with trouble, if she was up to it.

“But then you get all scared the days after. And then you drag me to make sure that the house doesn't have anything strange, at day.” The other girl complained, and, although she understood that they were talking about her house, it could be a great opportunity to have some interrupted alone time with you.

“Uh, excuse me, do you know, by chance, where it's the house of Y/L/N Y/N? She's, uh, tall, has no fear of getting into haunted places...” She said, trying to sound like she was not trying to find a complete stranger. “I'm an old friend of hers, and, I came here to surprise her, but you know, since she's gone to university, and her parents moved...”

She hoped that they either didn't knew your parents, or your parents had moved somewhere else, as she didn't have any idea of who were your parents, or if it was even truth what she said. Luckily for her, it happened that you parents did actually moved to a more secluded place in the outskirts of Seoul... But it was a year ago.

“You really haven't seen her for that long, huh?” Jiu chuckled, but she understood. If it wasn't because of her always coming to your home unannounced, and your yearly tradition of getting into haunted places. “She lives in Seoul, do you have your phone? I can show you on Google Maps.”

She was aware of what Google was, and what a phone was, but all thanks to the newborn vampires, or rookies, as she liked to call them, but she did not come to contact to such frivolities of the human world. Or anything from the human world.

“It's dead” She simply said, and the pair seemed to understand right away.

“To the old way it is then” The other girl said, and then started to explain that you were in Seoul, the direction, how to get there, of course, not saying the obvious part that Joy had to take a train, taking as the old vampire was an old friend of yours that had lived in Seoul.

After all, you hadn't been out of the city long enough to make friends.

And that fact was just hanging above Joy's head like the rock above Tantalus head, threatening to fall in any second. But she wasn't one to be intimidated, so she left after thanking, and biding goodbye. She could easily compel someone to show her the directions to Seoul, as Korea had changed so much in so little.

Last time she had been in the mainland, she traveled on carriages, with horses carrying it, and boats had people to row. Now they all had something inside that carried them. If Chanyeol saw her, he would be probably rolling in the floor laughing. She couldn't let herself fall in the only quest that she had, and she already had the needed information about you, now only had to get there, somehow, some way.

Lucky for her, being a vampire comes with tricks, tricks that she had mastered during the monstrous time he had been a vampire, with the help of those humans who would become her food, only to get rid of that awful guilty feeling of not having a chance at feeding from any other thing, and causing pain to the human.

She make sure to be as far away as she could from the pair that she found out, and walked to a deserted street, where there was only a man who seemed to work at the port.

“Uh, excuse me, Sir.” She said, bowing once the man looked at her.

When she had his complete attention, and he was close to her, she flashed her eyes red, and the man looked at her like his life would end if he didn't.

“I need you to instruct me how to get to Seoul. You must accompany me on my journey until I reach said city.” She compelled him, and the man could only nod before starting to walk away, being followed by the vampire.

Joy then found herself getting into a train station for the first time. Her, who hadn't been in a train in her whole life, wasn't sure if the iron cage would be able to get her to Seoul, or if the cage was actually something else, and the compelling had failed. She was scared, but she asked the man how it worked.

It was then when she learned that humans didn't even know how things worked, not even those who were born in the century where all of that already existed. But he could explain that it was a mode of public transportation, where everyone, not caring about the social status of the one who was sitting next to them.

That led her to think about who she was now in the world. She had been married into the Joseon family, so that mean she was a princess, or she had been. And she came from a rich family, didn't that meant anything now? She was, by law, the princess now, as her husband had been killed right in front of her eyes. Not that she had cared anyway.

But how did she fit in that world? Did she wanted to? No. She didn't wanted to fit in that awful human world, she didn't wanted to have any contact with the human world unless it was seeing you. She hadn't tried to seize the crown after all those years because she didn't have the slightest interest in ruling Korea, or any place that had humans as its residents. She could be a clan leader, that much she would like, but having contact with humans? Just this once, to get rid of whichever spell or trick you put her under, but that was it.

That was why she accepted to sit in one of those communal seats, next to a man that wore common clothes. The man she compelled was not seating, but was standing next to her. Joy didn't cared to ask, neither try to convince the man to sit, as he was just another pawn in the chess game of her life.

The train from Mokpo had been a new experience for Joy. Nothing had moved as fast as it did when she was human, as horses can only run at certain speed. Plus, she got to see how Korea had improved itself to keep up with the world. The large blocks of glass and iron, who she later knew it was used for work, and some other less interesting-looking buildings, where the people with less money lived.

The cars that she saw in the streets, things that she wouldn't even imagined, and the streets, every single one was paved. In her times, there weren't like that.

Everything was new to her, and people sometimes looked strange, like that one who had a furious pink hair, and another who had an iron ball in their face. They didn't dressed like they did four thousands years ago, but that wasn't a new. Even herself was dressing different than how she would've done on her human life. She wasn't used to wear short skirts, no matter how long she had been trying to wear them, and she wasn't even sure of how she felt with shirts that didn't even got to her waist.

Fashion nowadays is like that, Chaeyoung had told her before. Even though Chaeyoung was almost as old as her, she had been a little more into the human world as Joy was. But, she was also more ruthless when it came to them, so the dark haired girl wasn't sure of how much she could count on the younger one.

The train journey had come to an end before the vampire could even make her mind grasp into the whole new world. And even then, when she and her companion got down of the train, she couldn't believe how much the world she knew had changed. Even Seoul had become unrecognizable.

The five grand palaces were nowhere to be seen, and they were supposed to be so magnificent that everyone would turn their heads to watch them. The people walked fast in the pavement, mostly surrounded by buildings so tall that Joy had to look up finding some of them lost in the clouds.

“What happened to my birthplace? Why is Seoul like this?” Joy lamented, still looking how the concrete took upon the most beautiful city she had ever seen.

“This is not Seoul, this is Cheongju. We have to take yet another train to get to Seoul. Mokpo is really far away from the capital. Can I ask why didn't you take a plane? Is faster, and easier.” The man, still under compulsion, asked.

“What is a plane?” Joy looked at him, frowning.

“Don't you know what a plane is?” He asked once again.

“I may know what is the thing, but not by its name” She answered.

“Oh, uh... The iron birds?” He answered unsure, as he didn't knew how to describe it to a completely unaware person.

“Oh! I see them in my backyard! They go really far in the sky!” Joy enthusiastically said, as she found herself always marveled at that particular invention.

“Yeah, those. You could've taken them to Seoul, and it would've been faster.” He divulged, and Joy nodded absentmindedly.

“But I didn't, maybe next time. Now, we have to go, another train is awaiting for us” Joy declared, already walking in some direction she wasn’t sure it was the right one.

“Uh, ma’am, your going in the wrong direction. Let me lead” The man cautioned, waiting for Joy to get back to a safe distance before starting to walk in the opposite direction.

The second ride didn't got joy as excited as the one before, but as the sun slowly started to set, she centered herself into asking as much as the human could answer. Of course, there were things that the man didn't knew profoundly, and it left Joy even more curious.

This time, they got quickly in Seoul, as the ride wasn't too long. Once the vampire got there, she smiled. She was finally going to be able to see you, and discover what had you done to her.

“Quickly, ma'am, we're really close to your destination, I bet you wanna get there as soon as you can” The man said, walking out of the station.

And it was then when she realized how it was already night, and that he must have family that was waiting for him back home, and that probably won't see him until the sun came up, if he was lucky.

“Just inform me how to get there, and I will do so. You probably family to go to.” She compelled him, and the man nodded.

“Just get into one of those yellow cars, and you pay them to get to your destination. Do you have money? Or anything to pay them?” The man asked, still not getting out of the compulsion.

“Yes, I do, I'm okay now, I still have the address, you may go now, I hope you have a safe trip.” She bowed to him, and he then walked away.

Joy walked to a taxi, sighing, and gave him the direction of your home. He didn't spoke, and Joy didn't spoke either, so she was just thinking about what she would do when she got there. Truth is, she had no idea. She threw herself to the idea of getting to you, to get her peaceful mind back, but she had no idea of how to do so. She was simply out of her mind, with her always so calm and collected now reduced to a reckless nothing, She couldn’t believe it, the great Park Sooyoung, the once heiress to an empire, acting like some lowland person.

But, a part of her knew that that one Park Sooyoung had died long time ago, with her humanity. She wasn’t the great Park Sooyoung, she was now Joy, Park Joy, if it pleased the crowd, and those were two different girls, they had to be.

Her predicament was cut short by the driver, who had made the car stop, indicating that she had arrived the destination, and demanding to be paid. Truth be told, Joy had not eaten since the morning, and she had been kind enough to spare the man who traveled with her because he had endured the endless questions from the girl for a long time, but this man didn’t earn her kindness, so he wouldn’t have the same fate as the prior one.

“Actually, I’m going to be the one rewarded”

The night had finally come for you, and with that it meant for you to get back into your apartment to have finally some unhealthy amount of hours of sleep, only to get up and get back into your daily routine. Being an university student does that to people. And you would’ve dozzed off in the couch, or even make a zombie walk to your bed, if it wasn’t for those eyes in the dark. Those red eyes, following your every move since you got inside the house. Those eyes that had been engraved in your mind ever since you saw them for the first time in Jeju.

That thought seemed to get ridden of your sleepy state. That island was too far away for her to be there, it was impossible for her to be there. But as much as you wanted to deny her presence, those red eyes were moving, until slowly but surely started to be part of a face, that face that you were not able to forget since you were there.

“Joy.”

“Well, hello there. I though that I would have to wait for you the whole night”

#joy imagines #joy x reader #red velvet x reader #creatures of the night #red velvet fanfic #red velvet joy

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aquarianlights · 4 years ago

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I am in a serious financial bind. 😥 If anyone is in a position to listen & help or signal boost, pls keep reading...

This is from my apartment complex. I am in low-income housing. I called them & sent them proof I could pay on the 23rd. I told them I could (just barely) put 100 down now & they said that was too little.

They said they would file for eviction on the 16th, which adds $150 to my rent. They will cancel the court date and eviction on the 23rd when I pay.

But that doesn't cancel the $150 filing fee.

Idk where that $150 would come from. Idky they think it's fair that someone who cannot pay should be forced to pay even more??? That makes no sense. I can only just barely afford my rent every month as is.

These are from my energy company. I apparently owe them over $600. I genuinely do not know how this happened. We were on the phone for a very long time trying to figure it out & I was in tears for the latter portion of it because I swear I paid.

I usually keep record of my payments via taking a picture of my receipt since they are electronic, but my dog chewed up my phone (which I have pics of if need be for evidence) and broke it, so I had to get a replacement phone sent to me from the insurance company & nothing transferred from the old phone, so all my pics were wiped.

I found no record in my emails, either.

The meds I am taking to try to go into remission and the autoimmune disease itself both cause brain fog and issues with time warping, so it is possible maybe I skipped a month or something, but I highly doubt I would have skipped up to 600+ dollars worth of payments.

I have tons of electronic and hard copy calendars & they are all synced and constantly updated so that I know when payments are due. I also have text and email reminders sent to me, but I could find no reminders in my email for MONTHS now until they were telling me they were going to shut my power off if I didn't pay this. Idk why I was not sent reminders for months???

In the end, I agreed to set up a payment plan. Paying, like... 50-60ish on top of whatever my electric bill is every month for 12 months. It was the lowest they could go.

I can barely afford my electric bill as it is, so idk how I will be able to do this? They did give me a list of charities in my area so I will be using what little energy I have to call around & see if any of them would be willing to help me pay this. Idk how those work (they're mostly churches???), so I'm just gonna try & see what happens. 🤔

On top of all that, I *think* this is telling me my Medicaid has been cancelled but I'm not 100% sure?????

I'm going through treatment for a very serious, disabling problem that should last ~1 year and rn Medicaid is picking up what my Medicare doesn't cover and some of my doctors/specialists and treatments are medicaid only.

If I lose this, I'm basically done.

I know they'll do backpay if I get it back, but Idk if I *will* get it back. I'll be trying to get it back, but in the meantime, I guess I'll just have to pay out of pocket, idk??? Which I do not have.

I have lost almost ALL autonomy due to this autoimmune disease, which (in a very simplified form) is basically my immune cells "eating" my muscle tissue. I can barely get out of bed. Treatment should put me in remission & give me my life back. I am seeing a rheumatologist, neurologist, dermatologist, PCP, physical therapist, psychiatrist, psychologist, and going to a holistic pain treatment center that does a different kind of physical therapy to bring down pain levels (which I was put into that program by my rheum). All of these are in relation to & necessary for my disease. I am going through TONS of testing almost weekly now & trying out treatments like IVIG and chemo where I am in the hospital hooked up to an IV for 4-6+ hrs of that day and the cost of those things without Medicaid picking up what Medicare doesn't cover is astronomical. I have to sign waivers every time I get my blood drawn (which is almost weekly now), do tests, and do treatments saying I will pay if Medicaid does not pick up the extra.

I already have crippling medical debt; I don't need more. I'm scared they won't let me do any more tests or treatments if they see I am just letting it all go to collections & am not paying.

This could mean the difference between having a life worth living (to me) where I am happy & thriving & autonomous or being bed-bound & living a life of just existing from day to day & miserable & in pain & suffering & unable to do anything for myself. This is literally life and death for me because I wouldn't be able to handle continuing to live in the latter scenario. I cannot handle living like I am now. Knowing my treatments are progressing is what keeps me going. Knowing I can go into remission is what keeps me going. Knowing my future is one completely different from now is what keeps me going. But if I cannot have that and am destined to live in this current state, it's just not worth it. I don't know a person alive who would want to live like this.

Finally, my anger noodle needs to get to the vet for MULTIPLE things. Nothing is, like... life threatening or super immediate like his cancer was last year, but they're things that need to be addressed in terms of preventative care & to make sure he isn't in pain.

He needs his trachea checked, possibly x-rays for that, maybe more...

He needs some medication updates, needs a physical, needs a full groom & nail clip under anesthesia (for those who are not familiar with Echo, he has extreme fear-based aggression & usually gets this done under anesthesia; since I worked with him so much, he had his first non-anesthesia nail clip at the beginning of quarantine, but he has gotten worse during quarantine & with my muscle eating disease, I can no longer restrain him & don't have the physical strength to run a brush through his thicker fur as his winter coat is in, so I can no longer groom certain areas of him at home, so his tummy & back legs are matted & I fear he may need to be shaved... which breaks my heart since you don't shave double coat dogs unless medically necessary.), he needs a full physical, & needs to be checked over for MCT's.

He may also need a fecal test or something else, as he has been having odd bowel movements. 😥 His tummy has been upset lately.

I have been crying myself to sleep every single night & often during the day because I cannot get him to the vet. No, it isn't urgent or life threatening. But he is reverse sneezing more than normal & I worry about tracheal collapse, which is a common small dog thing & even MORE common in pomeranians specifically. Every time he has a fit, I think "Oh god, this is it. This is the time I'm gonna have to rush him to the e-vet & get slammed with a huge bill & he is not gonna be okay..."

It breaks my heart to see his legs & belly matted. He is horrible about letting me groom him coz of his aggression so he only gets a full grooms at the vet, but I do short grooming sessions at home with him nightly. Takes about 2 hours just to do the majority of one side of him (not even all of it; just most) coz he needs breaks & lots of praise every few strokes or he will tear me to shreds & hurt himself snapping on the undercoat rake. 😥

But now that my autoimmune disease has atrophied my muscles to the point holding up my phone without something to prop it up feels like I am lifting weights & tires my arms out with a lactic acid burn & pain, I can no longer groom him with the patience he needs & can only groom in 20 minute intervals at the VERY longest. By the time I have gotten one leg done during the week, his entire other side is matted. 😞 Matting on dogs---especially double coat dogs---hurts them. It's like if someone were to wrap your hair around their fingers & then pull it taut. It's a constant pulling pressure on their skin... it's painful & irritates the epidermis. I feel miserable feeling the matting on his back legs & tummy & now feeling the mats beginning to form on the rest of him. He hates me working them out, even with the detangling spray. I know it must hurt so much...

So he may need to be shaved at this point & that will destroy me. I feel sick thinking about it. But anything to get him out of pain. Maybe it is what's best for him while I go through this year of treatment & get my muscles back. But in order to do that, I need to get him to the vet.

The stress of not being able to get him to a vet is tearing me apart & literally making me physically ill.

He is my world. My everything. My #1. My heart dog. My priority in life. My entire universe revolves around him. I would do anything for him. Not a single person, animal, thing, etc, comes before him. It is KILLING me that I cannot provide proper care for him right now. I always always always make sure to sacrifice for him if need be & his things ALWAYS come first, even if it means I'm not eating or not paying bills or whatever. As long as he is taken care of & his needs & wants are met, nothing else matters to me. And right now........ I feel he is suffering because of my finances & the fact my treatment with building my muscles up is not going fast enough.

I cannot control the latter one, but the first one is something I can at least ask for help for. So that is what I am doing.

If anyone is in a place to help, these are my venmo & cashapp codes. I also have paypal.

💙 Venmo: @kqroswell

💚 Cashapp: $kqroswell

💜 Paypal: @kqroswell or [email protected]

If there is another form of payment you're thinking of, lemme know. I also have fb pay activated if you have me on FB (Killian Q Roswell).

Thank you to everyone who read through this & anyone who can help or reblog this. 💖

Sincerely,

Your v scared, struggling transman who really wants his bills/rent paid & his dog to go to the vet,

Killian 💞

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sophi-s · 4 years ago

Text

Cost of Kindness

Chapter IV: Complications

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6,656

Characters: Raphael, Original Female Character (OC), Fury

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Swearing (a lot of it XD)

Summary:

After far too many close calls and an adventure that will last her a lifetime, Nicola and Raphael finally make their way towards Haven. Unfortunately, not everything goes as smoothly as it could.

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Many, many centuries ago taking off to the grand skies has become one of humanity's greatest dreams. They always wished to be able to fly, envying birds their wings and wishing to join them in their aerial conquest. It took many more ages to even try to think of it seriously and even longer for the humans to create the first working airplane and fulfill their dreams as the gravity kept thwarting all their plans. But once this seemingly impossible goal was accomplished, this event has been recorded on the pages of history as one of the most remarkable inventions of the human race.

When she was little, Nicola dreamed of flying on her own as well. She loved watching birds, tracking the planes soaring through the sky, so far away they looked like ants, and thinking about how it would be to have her own wings. Her dreams eventually were abandoned as she grew older, more serious and more reasonable. But honestly, if a week ago someone asked her if she would choose to have wings if she could, Nicola without hesitation would reply "a huge YES". Now however, she realised something she didn't really take into consideration before. While humans wished to rule the skies, they absolutely were not created for this. They have been made flightless, earth-ridden creatures and for a good reason. Her very apparent fear of heights made it awfully clear to her.

These thoughts were all Nicola could hear aside from the rustling of feathers on the wind as she desperately held onto her angel friend, her heart hammering in her chest, eyes wide and stomach making somersaults while everything was spinning around like a carousel. At a certain height the human body just starts to give up and refuse cooperation. For those who are afraid of heights the gap is even smaller and the symptoms more severe. All that was keeping her from fainting or throwing up there and then was the fact that she refused to look down to see how high they actually were but imagining the small buildings below her wasn't making it much better. If she survives this, she will never ask any angel for a fly again and - if it will ever be possible after the apocalypse - stay the heck away from any sort of working plane. Ground was where she belonged. Flying was not her cup of tea and no one will ever convince her otherwise.

Raphael seemed oblivious to the silent prayers spilling past her lips and just kept flying, fully focused on his destination, as she was absolutely certain she's going to die. Her muscles were completely stiff, as though she looked Medusa in the eye. She couldn't even see anything with how her face was buried in the rumpled fabric of Raphael's clothes but she assumed they were getting closer and closer. Focus on anything else than the height. Anything! She kept telling herself when her jaw started to hurt from how she was clenching her teeth. Easier said than done. Nicola knew that Raphael wasn't going to drop her. He promised her and lately she learned to trust him but the pull of gravity beckoning her down into the abyss and to a long plummet ending in a painful impact and certain death… The last time she was this panicked was when the Fallen jumped her out of nowhere. Speaking of which… God, please, let this be a smooth flight. No demons, I'm begging you..

Encounter with stray demons was the last thing they needed now. She didn't doubt Raphael's ability to defend both her and himself but if a flying demon was to attack them from surprise… Not a single part of her already malfunctioning brain could produce a scenario that wouldn't end in either of them dying or at least suffering grave injuries. In short words, any sort of aerial confrontation would mean serious trouble. And trouble wasn't something Nicola missed. Especially after the last night..

Seems like her prayers have been answered. So far nothing noticed an angel and a human passing overhead. And those demons which did apparently decided not to bother them since it didn't seem worth it or had no way of giving them trouble from where they were standing. Nicola stopped counting seconds of their journey long ago and the only indication of the passing time was the wind rushing through her hair slowing down as Raphael started to try and spare as much energy as he could, gliding whenever possible on his wings simply stretched out on both sides and flapping them only to keep the right height, out of range of any demons that could be sulking below when he began to grow weary. His stamina wasn't probably in the best condition after the time he spent in hiding and most likely not moving much.

When she gets back to Haven, Nicola is going to first, eat a solid lunch since her stomach was displeased again - though now she couldn't really feel it twisted in panic like that - second, go the fuck to sleep for the rest of the day. Even though she spent the last night sleeping like a dead woman, she didn't feel that well rested. The amount of stress she had to endure exhausted her and a few hours of rest weren't enough to regenerate her full strength. High on her bucket list was also taking care of Raphael, to at least make him look decent and dress any wounds he carried. Elanya could do that too but Nicola couldn't imagine that Raphael would let a maker he doesn't know do anything to him. She remembered how distrustful he was in the beginning. And after she gets back, no more escapades if not necessary. At least two weeks long break. Ulthane is going to make sure she stays there anyway so she might as well spend her time on sleeping and some light activities.

Speaking of Ulthane… Nicola wasn't actually sure what she'd say to him once she suddenly showed up in Haven after all that time with a traumatized, crazy angel at her side. To say it will be awkward as heck, would be a severe understatement. It's not even about Raphael. How is she going to explain herself to the overbearing maker who is standing on his head to save the last survivors of her kind while, by nearly killing herself three times already, she acted nothing if not ungrateful? And honestly, she wasn't in shape to wonder about it now because her mind refused to focus on anything else than this one thought of the lethal distance between her and the ground. Damn it all.. Why does she have to be afraid of heights and find out this very unpleasant way? Really, if someone tried to take her from Raphael before he landed or too short time after, they'd probably need a crowbar to pry her off him.

While Nicola thought that the flight itself was awful, the moment her stomach seemed to move up into her gullet as Raphael dipped towards the ground she unwittingly shrilly cried out in fear. And that was a mistake. The angel, startled by the quiet human he'd been holding this entire time suddenly screaming bloody murder for no apparent reason, tried to halt his descent to figure out what's wrong but it was already too late for that. As a result the landing was rather rough. Nicola closed her eyes and so she didn't see how Raphael clumsily hit the ground and barely kept himself propped up not to land on top of her as she slipped out of his grasp and lost her grip on his robes. The expectations of a long fall made her throat tighten and trap her voice inside. All the bigger relief once after barely an inch or two, her back connected with the surface, drawing a soft and strained "oof" from her.

Still scared, disoriented and confused, Nicola opened her eyes to see wide-eyed Raphael hunched over her, hands on either side of her head - with the staff to her left - and gawking at her with a slight panic on his face. Goodness, he was way too close. Pulling her arms close to her body in a helpless attempt to regain her personal space, she smiled awkwardly.

"H-hi there!"

The moment he saw that nothing was wrong and her face regained some of its color, Raphael breathed with relief and got off her, once again offering his hand to help her up. Once back on her feet, Nicola nearly cried out when she felt the solid ground under the soles of her boots. Blessed earth, she could literally kiss it right now. But the fact that they were not in Haven yet disconcerted her a little. Looking around, she noticed they're in an empty street in the middle of nowhere. Casting a questioning glance at Raphael she didn't even need to ask. The way his wings were slumped against his back, his breath heavier than before said it all. Plain and simple, Raphael was tired. Too tired to keep going. Still, he was eyeing her cautiously.

"Why… why were you screaming?"

Still feeling the nausea and the shaking of her knees, Nicola scratched the back of her neck and turned her eyes away ashamed.

"Ahuh… I'm not-... I'm not used to flying, that dip scared me a little. Sorry about this.."

Raphael said nothing to this, simply nodded, and lowered himself to the dusted road to have a seat by one of the decrepit stores. Nicola decided to let him have his five minutes to rest before going any further. Store. She suddenly realised. And not just any. A grocery store. At the mere thought her stomach rumbled. Not only could she have something for herself but also gather some stuff for others! If anything there is still edible that is. It wouldn't hurt to check. Every bit of food is precious.

"Raphael, can you wait here for a bit? I'll be back in a jiffy."

Out of the corner of her eye she already saw him shift in apprehension and almost begin to stand up. Probably because she ran once already and in his mind could do it again. She proceeded to calm him down immediately by pointing at the building she intended to search.

"I'll just go in there to look for stuff, don't worry. I will come back."

Staring at her for a couple of intense seconds, Raphael eyed her from head to toe twice before his concerned gaze softened a bit.

"Promise me…?"

Nicola smiled reassuringly and nodded. There weren't many options for her if she did want to run off. Besides, she wasn't quite sure where she was just yet. Her orientation in terrain was… less than decent as of late.

"I promise."

She offered and once Raphael sat somewhat comfortably back down, she took her backpack and shotgun - just in case - and stepped in through a broken window. The inside of the store was in utter disarray and even that was putting it lightly. Most of the shelves were toppled over, some even in pieces. Glinting shards of glass littered the floor, crunching under Nicola's feet every time she made a step. Unsurprisingly, nothing was working. No lights, no freezers, no ventilation. No time to waste. Nicola began her search immediately.

Approaching the fruit stand greeted her with bitter disappointment. Apples, oranges, pears and many other fruits were already rotten and sometimes even coated in white specks of mould. Definitely not good. With vegetables it was exactly the same. The only carrot that looked acceptable at first, turned out to have been completely wilted. Tossing it aside, Nicola moved on. She didn't even bother looking for meat. The stench hit her the moment she came inside and were it not for the smell of decomposing corpses that drifted around the sewers when she was there, she probably would've thrown up where she stood. Instead, she just covered her mouth and nose with her bandana.

Any dairy products were off the table too. Without working freezers every single one of them has surely gone sour by now. A diarrhea was not something she wanted to have in Haven and most likely neither did the makers. Nicola didn't dare to so much as touch any eggs that still were somehow intact. Bad idea. A smelly one as well. There's no way some of them haven't gone bad yet. The risk wasn’t worth it. Passing by one of the mostly whole shelves, she absent mindedly grabbed a bag of dry cat food and stuffed it into her backpack. It was highly probable that most of the survivors would be feeding the kitten with any leftovers but.. just to make sure the poor thing doesn't starve to death.

Most of the jars have broken during initial earthquakes but two small jars of pickles seemed to be mostly alright. Without giving it much thought, she placed them in her backpack. Four bags of freeze-dried fruits quickly found their way into her pockets once she got a hold of them. Under a broken shelf, Nicola spotted an edge of some packet. Assuming it was just crackers or something, she reached into the rubble for it but once she pulled it out… she immediately regretted her decision. It was, in fact, not a bag of crackers. It was a whole, torn bag of soured cabbage coated in some strange growth - probably mould - she didn't get a chance to really look at because her attention was caught by something inside the bag. Probably squeezed in through the tear and got stuck, a small, bloated body of a gigantic, hellish critter. Instinctively, Nicola yelped quietly and without giving it much thought she lobbed the thing across the whole store before wiping her hand on the nearest piece of rag that wasn't her clothes. She didn't even get any of the spilling juices on her but… gross. Just gross. Ew ew ew! Ignoring the wet splat the bag made when it hit the floor wasn't an easy task. Still shaking off the disgust, she continued her search, noting to herself never to touch something she isn't sure what it is.

From there it thankfully was starting to go much smoother. Two packets of crispbread, some dark chocolate and a box of tea were found and collected. Nicola nearly cheered out loud when she spotted a few Snickers on a shelf. One she immediately opened and eagerly ate while the rest landed safely in her backpack. It might be mostly sugar with a bit of peanuts but it was a good snack that could deceive the brain for quite some time. To be frank, Nicola lived half of the high school on those whenever her lessons lasted too long for her breakfast to keep her sated. Besides, she couldn't imagine others would mind her bringing a bunch. Especially Marie. Jacob will most likely strangle Nicola if his daughter eats too much sweets but in the end it'll be worth it. Anything would be worth putting a smile on that sad little face.

Somewhere on the floor, Nicola even found a box of vitamins which luckily was not out of date yet. With a deficit of fruits and vegetables, those could be lifesavers. Especially for Leslie. She needs the most of it. Unfortunately, the space in her backpack was very much limited and soon she couldn't put anything more in there. Rearranging the contents of it, she put in one bottle of water, careful not to crush the crispbread and chocolate. At least she found something. Her escapade wasn't all for nothing when it comes to supplies. But even without those, she wouldn't say she regrets it. Against all the odds, she lived. And most importantly, she gained an otherworldly friend. And in times like these, a friend is something to be treasured.

Slinging her now much heavier backpack on her shoulders, she picked up her gun and headed towards the broken window she used as an entrance before. Peeking out from the store, she saw Raphael where she'd left him and a very much awake cat playfully attacking the longest quill of his left wing. His head perked up when she dropped onto the sidewalk beneath the window and she could've sworn she'd seen the corner of his mouth twitch upwards for a second there. Smiling, she unfolded her hands and shrugged.

"See? I keep my promises."

The angel hummed quietly before leaning his head against the wall behind him and closing his eyes. Nicola was about to ask if he's good to go but let the thought perish when she noticed his eyebrows furrow and his chapped lips twist into a slight grimace. Soon after, his right hand wandered up to his chest as he took a couple of quick and shallow breaths through his clenched teeth. If Nicola didn't know any better, she'd have said Raphael was having a heart attack. Can an angel even have an infarct? She honestly had no idea. In fact, she didn't even know how old he is. She couldn't tell. All the angels she'd met so far had white hair so that's not a hint to go by and his face didn't necessarily look old or young. He seemed as ageless as the time itself. Still, she didn't want to take any chances.

"Raphael? What's wrong?!"

She asked as she crouched beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him if needed. Raphael simply slowly shook his head and turned to look at her tiredly. And in his blank eyes she saw the already familiar pain and a spark of a silent plea.

"Just a little longer.. Let me rest a while…"

It took everything Nicola had in her to stop the sigh of relief. It didn't sit right with her that Raphael was still suffering and she could do absolutely nothing about it but hearing he's mostly fine, with only the usual ailing him, made her feel a tad easier. When his breathing grew slower and calmer, she even let herself slip down to the floor beside him.

"Sure. We have time, I guess.."

It was still relatively early, barely an hour or two after noon and Nicola wasn't that eager to return into the sky so soon. Only thinking about it made her feel a little sick. Hopefully, it wasn't too far to Haven from here. Even though Nicola really wanted to finally get home, she decided to be patient with her companion. He was wounded and most likely ill but he still tried his best to help her, even though he hadn't known her that long. He deserves a moment. Nicola too needed to sit down for a second as her thigh was still a bloody nuisance. Just a few more minutes. It wouldn't do harm to have a little break now, would it?

Yes. Yes it would. Nicola suddenly realised when she saw the kitten arc its back and puff its tail out. It hisses loudly before scurrying away into the store she just left and soon enough Nicola realised why once she looked into an alley ahead of her. The sight of a massive, winged shape made it painfully obvious. Her heart nearly ceased and Raphael beside her tensed at the sight of an enormous demon with curved horns and teeth, each the size of her palm, resembling a set of barbed knives made specifically to cut meat. The edges of long healed wounds that left behind terrible scars on her abdomen began to itch as she gawked at the familiar monster that nearly took her life. Flapping of gigantic wings that covered the sky with its expanse… Razor sharp claws curling around her body… the same talons tearing into her flesh as Ulthane attempted to free her from its grasp. And this shriek… oh God, this shriek…

Despite the apparent pain and exhaustion, Raphael slowly - not to agitate the demon - got up to his feet and raised his wings threateningly as he stepped in front of aghast Nicola. The fact that due to its bulkiness this thing seems almost twice as large as he is doesn't make an impression on him. Or maybe it does but he doesn't show it. The Fallen stared at Raphael with its small red eyes as a pair of Phantom Guards rounded a corner and joined the beast. Each carried a jagged blade that could easily tear through angelic armor. Nicola had seen it happen. Following them was another bloody Goreclaw. But these three she barely even noticed. Her wide eyes were focused on the larger demon. She felt her muscles refuse cooperation and seize. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her mind repeatedly screamed No nono no NO! Not like this!!

With excited roars, the lesser demons charged towards the angel standing between them and the weak, pathetic and helpless human as the Fallen spread its wings and took off into the air. Even as Nicola kept stone still, Raphael remained sharp and ready to act as always. One spell spilled past his lips and the flying demon instantly went rigid before plummeting back onto the ground and crashing into a broken car, setting its annoying alarm off. It didn't discourage the other three but it let Nicola find will to move and clutch her gun tighter. Ever since she'd met Raphael, he'd been doing nothing but getting her arse out of trouble. Taking a shaky breath she decided to start repaying favors.

Though, once again she didn't really have a chance to do anything as she was dumbstruck by the following scene playing out before her. As the hellish monsters charged, Raphael took his staff in both hands and held it before himself, closing his eyes and muttering an incantation in his melodious language. The moment the first demon stepped a tad too close, Raphael's eyes snapped open, burning like two white suns and a sleek ethereal blade materialized from the tip of what Nicola previously thought just an ornament or a walking cane. It glowed like the purest light ever to exist. Another assumption Nicola made about Raphael turned out to have been false. The last thing she can say about him is unarmed. He carried no blade, no gun or anything but who needs a weapon as lame as those when in addition to powerful sorcery you have a freaking lightsaber?

Everything lasted less than a second as the angel led a wide, sweeping slash of his spectral sword… spear thing… and promptly relieved the Phantom Guard of its horned head, before stopping the pouncing Goreclaw with a flick of his free hand, suspending it in the air growling and hissing. The other Phantom Guard had no chance to either attack the vulnerable angel or retreat, when Raphael was busy cutting down the quadrupedal demon, as Nicola came back to her senses and, instead of running like she always has, jumped forward and fired her shotgun. The resounding bang travelled through the entire city, bouncing off the walls and drifting far into the desolate town but it had the effect Nicola counted on.

The Phantom Guard staggered backwards with a chest full of buckshot, wheezed a couple times and tripped over onto its back never to get up again. With adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Nicola stared at the either dead or dying demon in wonderment, her brain trying to process what just happened, before releasing a breathless laugh of triumph. She killed one. She actually killed one! Raphael too seemed rather surprised but not unpleasantly so as he let the blade fade away.

"I got it! Did you see that?!"

"That indeed, I have.."

He said as he eyed her carefully, probably just to check if she's fine. Aside from a little fresh blood on his boots and hands, Raphael didn't seem to have gotten hurt in any way. Well… more than he'd already been at least. Nicola beamed up at him nearly bursting with pride at her actual first kill on a demon larger than her shin. And he seemed happy for her, if the soft smile he regarded her with could be an indication. But this victory didn't last long. Her own smile faded when she saw the Fallen stiffly getting up from where it slammed onto the ground, pure rage on its monstrous face. Her pulse began to race again but this time she refused to let the panic get a hold of her just yet.

"Watch out!!"

She cried too late, just a sliver of a second too late. Raphael whipped around to face the attacker and all he managed to do was raise his hand before the charging demon swung its head to the left. And with the force of a truck driving at the speed of fifty miles per hour, slammed it into the angel, making a formula of a spell die on his lips as he was sent flying through the air and crashing against a nearby building. The force of the impact caved in the wall and the kind, mad angel disappeared in a cloud of dust. All that was left were a couple of white feathers slowly falling to the ground.

"NO!"

Nicola didn't pay any mind to how her voice broke and squeaked pitifully when her heart leaped up into her throat. She could only stare at the place where Raphael vanished with a rumbling crash as the enraged demon growled in the same direction. Not a single part of her being agreed with what she'd just witnessed. A second before he was standing right there, like nothing was about to happen, distracted by her gushing over her first serious kill. Nothing should have happened, why did the demon unravel Raphael's magic just like that? Even a Shadowcaster didn't manage to do that! Why would this one? And why… Tears welled up in her eyes as her lower lip trembled… why did it have to… end the way it did…?

To make matters worse, the Fallen was still before her, still furious and thirsting for blood. Not wasting more time, Nicola pulled out a handful of new bullets and tried to reload her weapon but it proved almost impossible with how much her hands were shaking. Thank Christ, the demon was taking its sweet time as it faced her and began to lumber towards her on all fours, huffing out breaths stinking of rotting meat. Faster, faster, damn it! Nicola cursed inwardly when she dropped a couple of shells before she finally managed to place the ammunition where it should be. But when she looked up, the Fallen was on top of her already. Parting its jaws wide, ready to swallow her whole.

The scream of anguish that felt so tempting in the back of her throat never came to be. In a second, Nicola thought about all the horrors she'd lived through. All demons she'd met, all shambling corpses of former humans brought back by vile sorcery. All friends she'd made and lost.. Raphael, do just one thing for me. She gritted her teeth as her knuckles turned white from how she was gripping her weapon. Despair started to turn into rage. Burning bright and white hot inside of her, the flame Raphael had helped her see. Please, be alive when I come for you… The demon lunged forward to sever the string of her measly life by biting her in half. But Nicola wasn't going to let it get her so easily. Her fear was forgotten as she stuck the barrel of her shotgun into the monster's opened maw. She didn't want to die. Not now, not like this. For once she wanted to have a say over her own fate. Over the date of her demise. She is still young, she had a whole life ahead of her. And all those demonic dickheads with the Destroyer leading the charge decided to ruin everything and not only for her, but for every human who lives still and who has perished. And those who are yet to be born. She refused. She will not die. Not here. Not killed by that thing.

"FUCKOFF!!!"

And she fired. Partially, the sound was muffled by the demon's mouth snapping shut just barely missing Nicola's arms as she let go of her gun. The Fallen recoiled and began to shriek in pain, spitting out its own blood onto the concrete at its feet. Nicola didn't have delusions she could kill it but it gave her the precious seconds she needed. She ran for the closest hiding place available, which was the store she just left. Nicola leaped in through the broken window and quickly made it to the opposite wall to put as much distance between herself and the writhing monstrosity as possible. And it was a good choice. A loud roar from the street made her heart fall into her heels as the injured demon finally gathered its bearings.

Nicola looked at the Fallen that was coming her way with murder in its eyes. The unexpected bout of courage has long faded and the petrifying fear once again had Nicola in its chilling grasp. Even with the mouthful of bullets, the Fallen did not intend to give up on its prey. And here she hoped it would piss off if she fed it with lead… Snarling and panting, the demon approached the broken window with its own blood pouring from between its sharp fangs. It only added to the menacing image of the beast that had Nicola trembling and frozen.

Think, Nicola, THINK! What can she do against an opponent far bigger, stronger and more dangerous than a single human without a weapon? The Fallen was trying to fit through the window, reaching out with its clawed paw to try and get her. Nicola looks around in panic, looking for anything that could save her. In a grocery store. Good luck. Eventually, she says "fuck it" and grabs a most likely rancid egg. The laughably small projectile splatters over the face of the demon with a squelch and even from far away Nicola is sure this egg was definitely rotten. Even the Fallen stops for a second to shake the disgusting goop off of its head but before it's done, another egg flies through the air and cracks on its head, just as stinky as the previous one.

"How'd ya, like that, asshole?! Wanna have some more?!"

Nicola yells at the demon, holding yet another egg, fully prepared to just chuck it at the monster. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was piss it off even further as its efforts in reaching her doubled. Pieces of plaster and bricks were coming loose as the demon tried to wriggle into the shop to finally kill that annoying pest lobbing small, smelly things at it. As a result, an egg once again hit the demon while Nicola kept shouting out profanities that probably made her poor mother toss and turn in her grave. She's not going down without a fight, even if the said fight is done by throwing eggs and all the gross shit she found on the floor. But she knew she isn’t getting out of this one.

And so, this is it. Nicola couldn't believe she would die by the claws of the same creature that nearly killed her once before. Was Ulthane rescuing her only delaying the inevitable? What a sick joke… Why does fate insist on being cruel? There was so much she wanted to say, so many apologies she had to give… so little time… There was nothing she could do. At least… she will see Nicholas again.. her parents and every friend she'd lost in this cursed apocalypse. A miracle would've been nice. A tiny one. Just this once. Please?

And boy, did she get her wish. A sudden force violently tearing the Fallen out of the shop nearly startled her out of her dirty and tattered jeans. Hardly believing her eyes, she watched as her would-be killer screeched in rage and surprise when it was wrenched free from the ruined window and was gone from her vision. A sudden tremor shook the whole building, sending small bits of debris raining down on her head as a mighty roar reverberated through her very bones. But it wasn't the Fallen. It was something meaner. Something… Nicola swallowed thickly at the thought… bigger. Or at least as large as this fucker. Then came clacking of metal, ungodly screeching of the demon. A second later Nicola saw as it was flung through the air like a sack of potatoes and crashed against a block of flats. Instant karma. She thinks with bitter satisfaction when she remembers what that faggot did to Raphael. I need to somehow get to him. Honestly though, she doesn't really want to know what managed to just YEET a Fallen like a skipping rock.

Unfortunately, she finds out and finds out quite soon. From her hideout, she sees an enormous creature, nearly as big as the demon that threatened her, charging towards the stunned monster still bleeding from its mouth. If Nicola had been terrified of the Fallen, then she was on the verge of having a straight out SCA after seeing this chunk of a behemoth. Whatever this thing was, it was the size of an average tree. Its armored hide was burning with red and white flames which were enveloping twin jagged, metal whips it held in its hands. Vestigial wings were trembling with wrath as it turned its radiant white eyes at the battered demon. Between a pair of sweeping horns that crowned its head was a flickering blaze that flared with each step the monstrosity took towards its quarry. Right.. What's the best way to get rid of a monster? Sic a stronger monster on it. The Fallen shrugged off and growled at its new assailant, challenging it to a fight.

While the two beasts were circling one another, battling she couldn't even guess what for, Nicola braced for what was to come. This is a horrible idea. Breath in and breath out. In and out. And when the Fallen pounced at its attacker, she bolted. Not stopping, she ran. Through the street the demons were fighting on, past them - so close she could feel the heat radiating off of the newcomer - and into the building Raphael disappeared in. Nicola hoped she was ready for what she was about to find. She really did. Jumping in through the punched in wall however, she soon found out she was, in fact, not ready. The moment she entered, she immediately caught the sight that made something squeeze inside of her.

On a pile of rubble from the destroyed wall was Raphael coated in dust. Still. Not moving, his mesmerising white eyes shut. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh God, oh NO! Not thinking, all fear and uncertainty she ever felt in his presence was long cast away, Nicola rushed over to him pleading, begging everything that would listen for him to be alive. Don't leave me here like this… Dropping at his side into the rubble, Nicola lays her ear on the top of his chest and doesn't let herself relax until she hears a heartbeat and a shallow breath within. Words cannot describe how much she deflated once she did. He's still alive.. but he doesn’t look good.

"Raphael! Please say something! Can you hear me?!"

Thankfully, angel's eyes lolled open as she spoke to him, hinting that he indeed can hear her. Trying his best to keep his unfocused gaze on her face, Raphael furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his upper lip in a pained sneer as his hand wandered up to clutch at his side where the demon's heat struck him.

"Nnn… Nnii… co…"

He weakly attempted to speak but without much success. No joke, he must've hit his head really hard and she dreaded to think about the state of his ribcage.. But hey! At least he hears and understands what Nicola is saying. And it's a good sign.. right…? Wasting no more time, Nicola helped him sit up, keeping her hand on his forehead to steady him as his own palm rested over hers. Even squinting in pain, Raphael kept looking at her, as though she was the only point of focus he could think of.

"Hang in there, okay?! Please, Phel.. We'll be fine…"

Liar. Something snaps at her. They're pretty much defenseless and vulnerable with a very livid demon still threatening them. One or the other will come out victorious. And to the victor go the spoils… Raphael tried to say something but still couldn't formulate words properly due to the splitting headache pulsing through his entire skull. Though even through ringing in his head and pain in his chest that somehow rivaled the one he constantly felt, he found something in this human's words that baffled him. In her panic, Nicola doesn't catch a puzzled look he sends her way.

Phel?

A choked up cry of a dying demon made them both jump a little and look out through the hole Raphael made when the demon gored him. Just in time to see the flaming beast standing on top of the Fallen and strangling it with its whips. Then, the creature of… quite blatantly feminine curves gave one sharp tug and the demon's head was brutally severed from the rest of its body. And everything fell silent.

Instinctively, Nicola halted her breath and ceased any movement, watching the winner (Nicola felt fully comfortable with calling it per "she" now) shoot a glance towards her and Raphael who by this point tiredly laid his head on her shoulder, heaving in attempts to draw a proper breath. The creature approached slowly, keeping Nicola frozen in place and desperately holding onto her injured friend. When the demon was at the wall, only her massive legs were visible. Seconds ticked by as a set of claws rested above the opening to the house, and a monstrous head loomed through the hole.

That would be more than enough to make Nicola pass right the Hell out but.. Something about this creature intrigued her. It didn't have a snarling, toothy maw but an almost featureless face with the curve of a nose and a pair of bright and ferocious, intelligent eyes. It stared at her with more understanding than any demon Nicola had ever seen. Whatever it was, it didn't seem aggressive for some weird reason. At least not yet.. Then, unexpectedly, the creature was enveloped in red flames as its humongous form began to shrink and reshape into something much smaller but still a good two heads taller than an average human.

From the hot light emerged a very humanlike woman in intricate metal armor. Black tattoos marked her stern face around her luminous, white eyes and on her forehead, right below the line of incredibly dense magenta colored hair which floated freely around her head, defying gravity like it's the most natural thing in the world. Whoever it was, even with an intimidating aura of strength and resolve, her close resemblance to a human calmed Nicola somewhat. Plus, she had to admit that this woman had the looks. Men would probably be killing one another for her. Honestly, Nicola felt kind of jealous.. But considering she was still pretty much helpless with a half-conscious angel leaned against her, it didn't put her fully at ease. At least until the stranger spoke in plain English. Then Nicola finally released the breath she was holding. Crossing her arms, the tall lady sneered slightly at the human and angel before her.

"Well, would you look at that. Guess it's your lucky day today."

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

It's finally done, my goodness! This one was hard to get right but I made it. Don’t ask me how i managed to finish it with two pictures, I have no clue :I

Fury makes an appearance! Badass as always. :D

Also, can I get an F for Raphael's poor ribs?

#darksiders #darksiders 3 #darksiders fury #darksiders raphael #raphael #fury #darksiders OC #human survivor oc #CoK #cost of kindness #chapter IV

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johnkrrasinski · 5 years ago

Text

one bad day;

full masterlist

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 4,128

Warning: angst, fluff with steve rogers though

Summary: you just lost your job and you couldn’t find an easy way to tell your boyfriend, Steve about it. lucky for you, he’s the kindest boyfriend you could ever ask for, though.

a/n: hey there!! i recently got this idea where i was having one of my bad days myself and of course, like most people, one of the reasons was this pandemic. i am also aware of how many people are struggling with finance right now and i truly hope that this fic could ease your pain somehow, even just a little bit. if you are in a really bad place right now; whether it’s financially, emotionally or mentally, or even physically, i truly hope that things get better for you and that you deserve all the happiness in the world. hang in there. i believe in you. if you need someone to talk to but don’t know who, you can message me or dm me on my instagram (@keedyperestroika) anytime. don’t hesitate if you can’t hold it on your own any longer. anyway, enjoy!

You just had a terrible day. You are currently walking home from work, waiting for the traffic lights to turn into a walking person sign, to let the pedestrians cross the street. You have this fatigued and exasperated look on your face that most New Yorkers have when it's 5 pm and the streets are filled with people carrying their suitcases in their formal attires. But despite the weariness and the stress that is clouding over people's heads, they still walk faster than the subway train that would take these people to their office and back home.

Just like life doesn't stop no matter how worn out you are. It doesn't care whether you are alive or you are dying, it just keeps going at a 132 km per hour. You were supposed to just sit there as a passenger in this speeding vehicle that goes beyond out of your control. So you buried your hands deeper in your pocket and walk as quickly as you can with all the strength you have left. The grumbling crowd behind you isn't going to wait for any second longer.

You had worked in this local cafe called Le Chateau for 7 months now, and the pay is alright but the tip is good on the average days, especially on the weekend. At least it's enough to keep yourself afloat living in Manhattan. But it's not exactly the most amiable environment to work in.

You had to deal with a lot of rude customers who think they own the place and they can say whatever they want to you as if you live to serve them because they have the money. It had been 7 months of dealing with this and it still destroys your mood every single time. So you decided that today was the day that you were going to stand up to yourself and do the right thing.

Earlier today, a man in a white collared shirt and khaki pants walked into the cafe while talking on his phone with a furious tone. You already knew this one would be a pain in the ass to serve, he doesn't seem like the kind of person who would greet you with a smile and order in a cordial manner, so you asked him.

"How can I help you today?" The man doesn't answer. He continues to talk on his phone while lifting a finger signaling you to wait, hold on.

Meanwhile, at 8 in the morning, every cafe in the streets of Sixth Avenue is filled with fast-paced folks who want to make their order, get their coffee, pay for it and flee as soon as possible so they wouldn't be late to work. But apparently, not this man, whatever his agenda is for today, he clearly wasn't in a rush, but that doesn't mean the horde lining up behind him isn't.

He was talking so loudly, screaming his words into the poor ears of whoever is on the other side of the call, he was talking about some improper order that he was supposed to today, meanwhile, everyone in the queue is getting sourer, if humans had their klaxon pressed up somewhere part of their limbs, they would be honking simultaneously and incessantly right now. But this man was too selfish to sense that the people around him were irritated and that time isn't waiting upon him.

"Sir, could you please step aside for a moment if you are not going to make a direct order?" You tried to be as polite as possible, not wanting to piss him off even more.

"Hold on." He notified the callee. "What?"

"I said, could you please step aside if you are not going to make an order right away, people are lining up sir."

"Lady, I'm on the phone about an important business that will cost me millions if I don't take care of this matter right now. Now, you better shut up unless your salary in a year could indemnify my loss." He went back to his phone with his hand on the counter and people were starting to yell, but he still didn't give a shit. He just stood there as if he was the only person in the room.

"Sir, please, step aside for just one moment and come back when you are ready to make an order. You are holding back the line."

He looked at you incredulously as if you had just called him an asshole in a public place. "What the fuck is the matter with you? Don't you know who I am?"

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself in 0.0002 seconds before answering, "I'm not trying to be rude here sir, I am simply asking you to just step aside so that other people could make an order and you could wait for your turn when you are done with your call."

"Hey, I make $20,000 per hour and I am not going to waste a single minute talking to you or waiting in a line of another 20 people ordering their tasteless drinks while I could be making another 20,000, I could buy this whole cafe in one night if I want to and where would you be? In the streets begging for shitty jobs of scrubbing toilets or taking out the garbage so shut up or I'm going to make that a reality for you."

You couldn't believe the words that had just been vomited all over you. It felt like you had just been stripped down naked in an open space. You had dealt with countless impudent customers but no one had ever been as obnoxious as this guy.

He had straight-up humiliated you as if you were nothing but a slave. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, the ounce of patience in you was wearing thin, so you did what you knew you always had to do. You fought back.

You scoffed and shook your head. "You know what, I don't give a fuck how much you make money per hour or that you can buy this cafe in one night. Men like you think you own everything and everyone? And that you can just treat people however you want? Well let me be the one to tell you this asshole, you are just an insolent piece of shit."

And that's how you ended up losing your job. Yup, by standing up to a corrupted man. Your manager, Brock Rumlow, had called you to his office later that day and had taken the job to be the second person to scream at you that day as if you were nothing but an owned slave who had just broken your master's favorite vase. Even though you had explained the whole incident, he still didn't give a single fuck about your explanation.

"It doesn't fucking matter! He is a customer, an important one! What do I always say? Customers are the kings! You don't talk back to them, you don't raise your voice to them, you don't glare at them! You. Serve. Them. Well." He asserted each word with a stern glare that could cut your skull wide open. "And if they told you to fucking wait for them, then you better fucking wait for them!"

That's what it's like working in a big, expeditious city that is owned by capitalists and men in charge, sitting on their throne with their feet up their servants' backs to keep them cozy. You had enough. You had enough of the shitty attitudes, inappropriate customers who try to flirt with you, and your overbearing boss.

So you carried your heavy steps on the pavement to the building that you live in. This day had been such chaos to you that you just want to go home to your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, who would always try to comfort you on your worst days by ordering you pizza or offer to give you a massage after a seemingly-never-ending way.

His blue eyes that would calm the raging storm inside of your heart and his tender touches that would shut the vicious words in your head away. His kisses that would melt you like ice cream on a summer day, but also, made you feel safe and protected. Like you know it's gonna be okay. You just do. The promise is in his kisses.

You walked home to a tranquil environment. A place with a few potted plants here and there, a soft 40's music playing somewhere in one of the rooms, and to a large, muscular man in a dark blue shirt that is doing a poor job at fitting his muscles. He was wearing an apron with a picture of a white, furry cat holding a ball in front of it and he had a spatula on his right hand.

"Hey babe, you're home!" He greeted you with that lovely smile you have missed.

"Yes, I am. Are you cooking?" It was hard for you not to smile at the heartwarming image despite your awful mood.

"Yeah, I am. I figured we should eat something home-cooked today... We have been ordering too many takeouts, my organs are starting to give in." And at that attempted joke, he smirked.

You couldn't help but laugh at how horrible that joke is. Also, at how adorable and proud he looks at that joke. He would always try to make you laugh with his featherbrained humor and his even better attempt at it.

You shook your head subtly and spoke up, "I'm pretty bushed, think I'm gonna treat myself with a nice long bath first."

"Okay, sweetheart." He gave you a peck on the lips. It was brief but enough to elevate your somber mood. At least for now.

You stripped yourself out of the clothes that you wore from your former workplace to home, put your hair in a messy bun, and threw in your favorite lush bath bomb that would make your bath experience far way more pleasant in this bleak evening. You poured yourself a glass of red wine and turned on your favorite Jazz music playlist.

You needed to clear your head after the long, hard day. You were trying to come up with ways on how to initiate the conversation about telling him that you had just lost your job and that you had an unfortunate incident earlier that kinda got your own ass fired, as your former boss spat.

The truth is, you and Steve had been dating for three years before you both decided to move to Manhattan. You and Steve used to live in Brooklyn and had moved a year ago. You used to live in the same neighborhood, went to the same school, and had been friends since childhood but were never really close. You knew his best friend though, Bucky Barnes, Brooklyn's most eligible bachelor, the playboy with a pretty face that could make a lot of girls and boys weak at the knees, that would take different ladies on a date every Friday night but never settled for one.

Steve was a lot smaller and skinnier back then, he wasn't the huge, muscular man with the perfectly trimmed beard sitting on his face that he is now that could've taken any girl that he wanted on a date. He was shy and introverted, unlike Bucky who was outgoing and confident. Sometimes it dazes you that these two were really best friends, they were too different in a lot of aspects.

You also knew Sarah Rogers, Steve Rogers' mom who had raised him as a single mother, all on her own because, his father, Joseph Rogers was an abusive husband who used to beat Sarah up after he got wasted every night and would often threaten to kill her. So one day, Sarah decided that she had enough, she took up every bit of penny that she had in her purse and gathered all the courage that she had within her to leave him and bring 4 years old Steve Rogers with her. They found a nice, little house in Brooklyn. It wasn't much but it will do for the two of them. It was only her and him since that day.

By the time you both went to college, you went on separate ways. You had gone to Colombus Culinary Institute in Ohio, and Steve had gone to Rhode Island School of Design. After you both had graduated, you came back home to Brooklyn. On one fortunate Autumn day, you went shopping at the convenience store which was located near your home, you crossed paths with Steve Rogers, the scrawny, sickly fella that you used to know, now all grown up and buffed up. He is so... handsome. You had never noticed how lustrous his oceanic eyes are.

Despite all the glow up that he had, his gentle demeanor still hadn't changed. He was still that shy, introverted kid who would blush at the slightest human contact with a woman.

He had bumped into you in the dairy section whilst you were too busy ruminating on which cardboard milk you wanted to buy, on the opposite direction, Steve was too busy checking through the list on his phone, ensuring that every single item that he had noted down on his phone had been checked off. And so, the little incident happened.

You had caught up with how things had been for the two of you during college, never realizing that the sparks had always been there, you were just too young and foolish to let it lead you to anywhere. Next thing you knew, you were saving up to move to Manhattan.

Steve had decided to move to the big city with the hope of becoming a professional artist and hoping that he would open his own gallery someday. Of course, that wouldn't be as easy as finding an empty space in the town and transfer your money. Like you said, Manhattan is expensive. Much worse than Brooklyn.

Steve had graduated from RISD with an art degree as he had always possessed a raw talent in art and painting. He was always brilliant in designing and drawing too. You believed in him, and he believed in you. You, on the other hand, wanted to be a chef at a five stars restaurant with the hope that you could save up enough money to open your very own five stars restaurant. But of course, those dreams wouldn't happen overnight too. You had to work twice as hard and so, you were left with nothing but the choice to become a waitress slash cashier at a cafe, which now had forfeited. Now you were going to have to find another admissible job that could at least help you stay afloat for now.

You had lost track of time of how long you had been in the bathtub. You were getting drowsy but your stomach started to make grumbling noises that signaled you that you had to have the conversation tonight. You thought about postponing it 'till the morning, maybe you could suck him off and make love to him before you sleep. Yeah, that seemed like a perfect way to initiate the daunting conversation. At least he'd feel a little more relaxed than before, but no, you were an adult, and adults communicate things out. Not keep secrets from each other and dodge dreary conversations.

You got out off the tub, dried yourself with a towel, and wrapped yourself in a cotton bathrobe that had always fit your body perfect and comforted you on days like this. You walked out of the bathroom, and saw your boyfriend's broad back facing you, he was still in the kitchen, but he had finished his cooking. He was currently cleaning the tiny kitchen counter off the remnants that had smeared the tiles.

You leisurely walk toward him, circling him with your arms and pressed your chest, and rested the left side of your face against his broad back. This is your safe place, your little bliss on earth. Where you can feel him so close against you. Your fingers roam all over his firm chest and closed your eyes and just relish in this pleasant moment. You let yourself get lost in his warmth, savor the strong man that you had come to know as home.

He chuckled and took your hands in his and kissed the palms. It's like he could read your mind before you even said a word. He had learned about you intimately for way too long to not understand it by now.

"Bad day?"

"Worse."

"Hm. Wanna talk about it?"

"Later, maybe, but for now, I just really wanna spoil myself with my boyfriend's amazing culinary skills."

"Okay, now you are just mocking me."

"I'm not! As a future chef myself, I know good food when I eat one. And when the man who makes them is a five stars meal himself, it wouldn't be so hard to cook one."

Despite having been dating for three years, you still flirt with each other like teenagers pining over each other. You were grateful to have such a loving man who never stopped making you feel cherished even when you couldn't believe in yourself. He'd always be there for you, to back you up, to encourage you and help you reach the finish line, and you would do the same for him without a single doubt.

You two sat on your tiny dining room, eating in comfortable silence. He told you about the client that had called him for the second time that week to book him for the weekend. He said the client told him that after many considerations, she liked his work best amongst other artists she had looked through. She wanted him to paint a portrait of their family because she "believed that painting is the most delicate form of art." With her own words. He was excited to bring out the passionate artist in him once again.

You nodded as you chewed you food and braced yourself to finally bite your tongue and unleash the words that had been gnawing the insides of your stomach. So you took a deep breath and said; "I just got fired today."

Steve stopped scooping the mashed potatoes that he wanted to mix with the honey butter chicken he meticulously put together a couple of hours ago. He sat there frozen, eyes glued to the cuisine placed neatly in front of him.

You and Steve had been struggling to make ends meet, with both of your average income just barely enough to pay the bills and cover up the expenditure, you didn't have much when you first came into the city, but at least when you started working at La Chateau, the burden of your bankroll had become less tyrannical. Steve had to wait for clients to hire him to receive incomes, which is only occasional, you'd never tell him to get another job because he believed in his dedication to his art and he told you once that he would lose his mind trying to do what he wasn't born to do.

However, with the dire situation you two are currently stuck in now, well, it's only been less than 24 hours but, it's going be the circumstances you two will have to endure for God knows how long. You were hoping that by having this conversation as soon as possible, you two are going to come up with a solution on how to survive.

"What happened?" He finally gazed into your eyes with that ridiculously sexy disappointed look on his face. Even when he's not in the most cheerful mood, he is still insanely attractive, it should be a crime.

You explained the whole incident, starting from when that prick walked into the cafe and to the last thing your boss said, no, no, yelled at you.

You were bracing yourself for the even worse discouraged words coming from his mouth, you were expecting that he'd get up and storm into your bedroom so he could clear his head and then maybe, maybe, after that he'd be ready to talk to you. He would never hit you or blame you, positively never, but sometimes when he's angry or he's downhearted, he would shut himself away and would utter very few words when it's absolutely necessary.

You hated seeing him like that. You hated seeing him dismayed, you hated seeing that scowl on his face caused by the stress of life. You would always try to give him a massage, or rub his back as to offer comfort. You were lucky if he even spoke a few words about his feelings to you. Which happened only once, a couple of years ago, when his mother died due to tuberculosis. She had been sick for several years before that. It had only gotten worse during the last six months before she passed away. You had never seen Steve so vulnerable before and you remember holding him tight until he fell asleep in your arms.

You hadn't realized that you had started crying and tears were brimming in your eyes. You felt your vision started to become blurry and you saw your boyfriend, got out of his chair, and walked up to you so he could comfort you the way you had alleviated him from his demons before. He got down on his knees and put his hands on your shoulders to ease the tension on them. Wordlessly, he embraced you in his arms and you put yours around his neck to hold on to him even tighter than you ever did. You needed him, and you wanted to feel him as close as possible.

You sobbed even harder than you planned on, hell, you didn't even plan on to turn this into a poignant conversation for the two of you. But you couldn't help it, the emotions had taken a toll on you and you were finally able to just let yourself fall free into the love of your life, let everything sink and pour it out bit by bit before him.

He spoke up with a gentle voice, "honey, I'm proud of you, for standing up for yourself like that. You did what was right, you did what you should've done a long time ago. I couldn't bear the thought of people treating you like that, you deserve to be surrounded by people who revere you and an environment that makes you happy."

"I know, Steve, but now I don't know how we are going to pay our bills, how we are going to fill our fridge, and how we are going to-"

He shushed you and grabbed your face in his calloused hands. "Honey, we are going to figure this out. We always do. I have faith in us, and as long as we got each other, we are going to be okay. I promise you."

"How can you be so sure?" you stifled.

"Because I remember when I was skeptical about our future, you were there, and you convinced me that we'd come through. I mean, look at how far we've come! Remember when we thought we would never save enough money to rent a place in Manhattan? But we were wrong. Remember when we thought, we wouldn't be able to fill in our gas tank? We overcame that too."

"But it's going to be different now that I am unemployed, and I am getting even further than I was before to my dreams."

"Honey, all setbacks are just a hitch along the journey. I promise you, we can defeat this together, you and I. I am getting hired for the weekend, aren't I? I made a promise that I'll take care of you and I will hold on to my word. I love you."

"I love you too. Thank you for never giving up on me. I don't know how I got so lucky to end up with you."

"You've done the same for me and you would do it again. And I can say the same thing about you. On my worst days, I'd wonder how you still haven't left me yet."

You flashed him a smile, a genuine one this time, it wasn't much but it will do for now. And you were content to have this man by your side to go through all the highs and the lows with.

"There's that beautiful smile. Now, how about we finish our dinner, and we can go cuddle in our bed okay? Whatever tomorrow will be, let it be. We'll figure it out step by step."

"Sounds good."

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1zashreena1 · 4 years ago

Text

Trading Trauma -13

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: They share the rough stuff while trying to figure out how to be gentle with each other. And an antagonist?

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Detailed discussion of abuse in all forms- Physical-Mental-Emotional-Verbal*** SERIOSULY HEED THIS WARNING Anxiety attacks, vague hinting at mental-behavioral health disorders, plus size woman+fit man, This one is all feels and

I Am So Sorry.

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

I believe gif came from @girlpornparadise

Its a Friday like any other and Bastian picks you up like always. Only, something is wrong. You can tell because Bastian is silent; absolutely, completely, dead silent.

"So," You try from the passenger seat, "What the fuck is going on that you don't want to tell me?" Its raining and everything in New York is shaded in tones of gray. The gray buildings pass by, people in gray coats with gray umbrellas trudge along the sidewalk, even this SUV is gray. It still has new car smell. What happened that he bought a new SUV?

A muscle tics in Bastian's jaw as he tenses under your attention. Pale green eyes dart to you, then back to the road. Finally, Bastian speaks, "Alicia was here today."

Your jaw drops. "What? Why? Is he okay?" Your immediate concern is Diego, both his physical safety and his mental well-being. Bastian's silence is an obvious negative. After staring at him for an indeterminate amount of time and receiving no further details you go back to the windshield. "We can order food later, just take me to him."

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

Diego is stationed on the sectional when you arrive, working on his laptop. Bastian places your bag just inside the penthouse then retreats back into the elevator. That's never a good sign.

Diego looks up and smiles, its blindingly gorgeous and your heart stutters. The laptop gets dumped to the side in favor of grabby hands going for your curves. You climb into his lap, knees outside his hips, loop your arms around his neck, and fold him down into your softness. With a huge sigh, Diego melts into you.

"Princess. Missed you." His rumble is soft and quiet against your neck. He wraps you up tighter and squeezes your squishy middle. "Stay. Please." What started as an order ended as a plea in under two words.

You stroke over his hair, kissing his forehead and nodding gently. "I'm here, baby. Are you okay?" The likelihood of getting a straight answer is slim but you have to ask. You need him to know that you care, that you want to take care of him.

He nods into your neck and settles further. Apparently this is where I sit now. His breathing is normal, he doesn't flinch or jump wherever you pet him, and his clothing is in place. As far as you can tell, he is physically well. The only thing out of place here is his hidden face.

He is surprisingly cuddly in private, your Murder Panther rather enjoys petting, but he has never hidden from you. Its concerning, especially in conjunction with Bastian's hushed announcement in the car.

"What do you need me to do?" You keep your voice even and quiet because you're not sure how upset he really is. Broad shoulders shrug under you, he seems almost defeated. You try a different tact and ask, "Okay, when did you last eat?"

"Dish mornin." Diego mumbles into your skin like a kid. In truth, he is like a large child a lot of the time. He gets easily distracted by activity and is frequently lost in whatever task happens to be most interesting to him at that exact moment. He fidgets minutely under you, a tiny bit of his normal reaction to your presence is evident.

You turn to smirk into his cheek, "I meant food, but if that's what you need, well, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." His deep chuckle shakes your entire body. "Where's my phone? Lemme order dinner before you go after dessert."

Diego pulls your phone out of the back pocket of your jeggings and passes it to you, then replaces it with a huge hand. You laugh but proceed to order from that steakhouse you like in Brooklyn.

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

By the time dinner has been completed Diego is relaxed and loose-limbed, sprawled on his back across your lap in the corner of the sectional. He is still quiet, but if you keep both hands on your tablet a little too long he makes his displeasure known with a growly whine. You’ve been absent-mindedly petting him for some time when you decide to try again.

"So, can I do anything to help you? Listen? Massage? Cuddle? Err, cuddle more intensely?" You don't look at him in an attempt to not make him uncomfortable.

Diego heaves a sigh and holds your hand flat to his chest. You can feel his heart, its picking up speed and you feel a little guilty. He licks his lips and finally speaks, "Alicia was waiting for me when we came back from a meeting this morning. She has been questioning my books. I suppose she doubts my math." Diego waves a dismissive hand in the air.

You have seen this man complete statistical mathematical analysis in his head, everyone knows his math isn't a problem.

"Um. First of all, no. Secondly, n-o-o-o." You draw the word out in your sarcasm and Diego snorts with amusement. "Why do you think she was really here?" You ask soberly.

"It is the math. I need to redistribute my surplus. What is that saying? Use it or lose it?" Diego looks up at you from under raised brows, waiting for you to confirm or correct his language.

That is fucking adorable. Your chest tightens with his easy familiarity with you and his trust that you have his back in all things, even something as small as a possible mistranslation. You nod in confirmation, but also need some clarification. "So, help me understand here, you have a surplus of what? Profit?"

Diego nods succinctly. "Technically, it is a deficit of expenses. However, the expenses are paid out of the profits, so I simply hadn't moved the profit surplus into the expense account, which would have highlighted the cost deficit. I attempted to not draw any undue attention to it, but that failed. I must find somewhere to funnel the excess money that would not arouse suspicion."

It takes you a minute to process that whole thing. Diego watches you mentally work through it with amused patience. You now have more questions than answers. "Okay, wait. Rewind further back. Why do you have extra money? Are you not spending as much?" What is happening?

"It is two folds," Diego holds up a hand with one finger raised, you don't bother correcting him this time, "I am not consuming my own product, therefore selling more and netting more profits." He raises a second finger and continues, "I am spending substantially less on incidental costs. Not so many bottles or strippers or whatever. So saving more."

He stares at his own raised fingers in bemusement before muttering thoughtfully, "Julio always led me to believe that women are expensive to keep but you have been saving me money. Hmm." He glances up at you with a small smile, tentative and cautious, so very not Diego-like.

Your shrug is exaggerated, but your flush is not. "Glad I could help? I mean, its my fault this extra money is sitting around, so its my fault she noticed and then came here. I'm sorry, baby." Sometimes when you open your mouth everyone goes on a surprise trip, including you. It wasn't meant to turn self-deprecating, but here you are. You really do feel guilty. My presence has altered his lifestyle and its a problem.

The worry must be obvious on your features because Diego catches it immediately. He rushes to soothe you, "No, Princess. I chose to do these things, or rather to not. You have done nothing wrong. I would rather have you and this problem than to not have you and not this." His right hand comes up to cradle your cheek and direct your gaze down to him. Those beautiful brown eyes are molten, fierce with some emotion you don't want to analyze. It still fucks you up.

You swallow hard and lick your lips, "So what do we do?" Diego follows the path of your tongue with his thumb while his lips curl up in pleasure at your choice of wording. The way he looks at you sometimes, like he might try to move heaven and earth for you, it hurts. You can't decide if you like it or not.

"We must spend the money." He winks at you. "I will invest some and hide it in offshore accounts. If anything happens it will come to you." His air of finality is chilling.

Looking him over, you can feel tears welling up. "I don't want the money. I mean, don't get me wrong, I enjoy being spoiled, because duh. But if I have to make some ultimate choice between money or Murder Panther?" Your hands fling around with impassioned gesticulation.

Diego chuckles, "What does," he imitates your sharp movements, "mean, Princess?" His eyes sparkle with the city lights twinkling in through the windows, but so far he is succeeding in suppressing his smile.

"It means, you know!" You flail your hands around faster, as if that will make your point.

Diego does it back faster, so you interject with even faster movements, and Diego rebuts the same way until you grab his hands to stop him. The both of you dissolve into almost hysterical giggles.

He uses your joined hands to pull your forehead down to his. You can see a dizzying array of emotions swirling in his eyes, its breathtaking. His breathing hitches, brows draw down, and then his eyes close.

"Baby." You sigh, cupping his cheeks gently, "What?" The question is soft, tentative. He doesn't release the hold on your wrists, but allows you enough space to pet him minutely.

"When I have you here it blocks out everything else." Long fingers spasm on your forearms as Diego pauses to drag in a ragged breath, he continues, "I want to keep you here."

I don't know what to say. You're dumbfounded. "What? What does that mean?" Your voice has shrunk down to a quavering whisper.

Diego opens his eyes to look up at you and they are deep enough for drowning. "You are coddling me and I like it. I want you here every day. Give me this whenever I want it." He whispers roughly. Diego studies your form as though committing your features to memory. "You should," that raspy voice hesitates and Diego grips your arms tighter, "You should quit your job and move in with me." He stares up at you in complete sincerity.

You're trying to keep it together. Diego is the one who had a bad day here. You're supposed to be helping him, not having your very own freak out. Think rationally about this. He isn’t here all the time, sometimes he's in LA. I'm not hot enough to be a trophy wife. What would I do all day? Just help him? Wouldn't that just be a different job? Oh my god, if I say yes to this… what if he asks me to go to LA? What if--

"PRINCESS!" Diego's bark cuts through your mental tornado and you blink back to awareness. He is still in your lap, cupping your jaw in one giant hand, while he watches you silently freak the fuck out.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, "I didn't mean to just. Just. Zone out." Your breathing is shallow and you can feel your heart racing.

Diego just watches you, unreadable. You glance down at him then look away. One of the coffee mugs is missing from the tree. Must be in the dishwasher.

"Hey." That rumble is soft and you cannot ignore it. Your eyes shoot down to his again, then away, and you shake your head 'no' minutely. Diego shifts to sit up (Via only abdominal muscles, your entire pelvis helpfully informs you) but keeps a hand on you. He sits back into the corner of the sectional and beckons to you. When you move toward him Diego spins you so your back is to his chest while you sit in his lap.

He wants to maintain contact but not overwhelm me by being in my face. I wonder if he’s been researching again.

Its enough to crack your heart open a little.

His long legs bracket your hips and you smile fondly, it reminds you of all the times spent in the jacuzzi tub. Diego rests his prickly chin on your left shoulder, wraps huge hands around your middle, and just sits there. Your hands pet over his thighs, his knees, then inward to cover the grip on your rounded stomach.

"Logically," you clear your throat, "I know you don't mean it this way. But. I, well, I basically gave up my entire self once before and, as you know, it did not go well." Your voice is clear but soft as you continue, "You're not him. You are so very not him. But I still have… scars." Your hands are shaking noticeably so you stuff them under his. Diego laces his fingers with yours and steadies you.

"You never told me what he did to you. I want to know everything about you, Princess. Let us make a deal, huh?" Diego is always just a little bit greedy and you can only respect that as a fellow hedonist.

Tilting your head to the left, you lean your cheek against his nose, then answer warily, "I'm listening…" You can feel Diego's smirk.

"I will tell you what happened when I was little and you will tell me what happened during that 'relationship'. An even exchange." He stares at you from a few centimeters away and you return the calculating look from the corner of your eye.

Your lips purse while you consider, then offer a caveat, "Only if I can write it out and not speak it." You turn to face him fully. He looks so… soft.

Diego licks his lips, "Deal. Now kiss."

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

You write out everything you can remember from your ex.

How no one was allowed to know you existed, you could have no title, that it wasn't a 'relationship' despite living together for eight years.

You worked full time, you cooked, you cleaned, you kept a household budget even when it meant emptying your savings account to pay for his bankruptcy filing.

The way you paid all the bills but your name was only listed on the lease, the three cases of beer you had to buy every week no matter how tight money was for groceries, you weren't permitted to hang anything on the walls so your ex could cover them with posters of girls half your size.

You kept your hair dyed strawberry blonde because that was what he liked, because then he would touch you without sneering. The other girls you poached for him to sleep with instead of you. How you were supposed to be grateful that a man would even deem to fuck you at your size.

The wake up call when you argued back the first time after all those years. How he had backed you up to the top of the steep stairs in your second floor apartment and then loomed over you. The way you teetered on the precipice before diving under one of his arms and escaping to the bathroom, the only door with a lock.

How one day while he was at work you stuffed everything that would fit into your car and just left. The way you had to start over from scratch with no credit history or savings. The court proceedings for the restraining order, that you had to recount everything in front of your family, a judge, and the ex himself.

. . . . .

You don't realize how badly your hands are shaking until Diego takes the tablet from them. He sets it down on the neighboring cushion and locks the screen dark before turning back to you. Those huge arms wrap around your middle, on top of your own arms hugging yourself, and pull your back flush to his chest. You ponder his largeness; his thighs are as long as your arms, the stupefyingly huge hands and feet are an endless source of fascination, the biceps are your favorite pillow. You grin dumbly.

"What?" Even at a whisper his voice vibrates deep in your chest. Its not especially deep, but its so rough, it almost reminds you of a cat tongue. Diego watches your face from an inch away.

Left shoulder raising in a lazy shrug, you sigh, "I love sleeping next to you. And I don't like sharing a bed with anyone." You blush a bit with the confession, but its true. "I feel safe with you even though realistically I know it should feel the opposite. You won't hurt me and you won't let anyone else either." Its a direct contrast to what you were just writing about and you say it with absolute conviction.

"Of course not! But, but if I do, accidentally obviously, you will tell me?" Diego sounds simultaneously aghast and condescending but not at all offended by your acknowledgement of his potential danger. Amazing.

You turn to face him and lean your forehead against his. Diego sighs softly and squeezes you tighter. "I mean, I might write it, but yeah."

He makes that adorable scrunchy-thinky face that you love before announcing, "I'll allow it."

Your eyes roll fondly as you sigh, "Oh good. So glad that meets your approval." His sly smile is mesmerizing.

"So. Are you gonna read that or…?" You glance down to the tablet then back up at him. "No, wait," you interject before his open mouth can start making noise, "Tell me yours first. Please." You turn solemn as you consider how bad this might be. Watching his face gives you a hint; his forehead smooths and his eyes shutter while soft lips turn down at the corners. Its his poker face, he is hiding from you.

Diego clears his throat quietly and looks away before he begins, "Our mother died when I was young, before I started school. My Lita said she committed suicide, apparently she was depressed after I was born. Alicia blamed me."

You knew he had grown up without a mom, all of his delighted reactions to your own mother knowing and hearing about him had suddenly made a hell of a lot more sense when he told you. And you already knew that he was close with his grandmother, Lita, that she had looked out for him. And now much of Alicia's behavior made sense, too.

"My earliest memory of Alicia is at age twelve for her. By that point she had convinced our father that it was my fault. I was four the first time he hit me with a belt. The buckle, of course." Diego's jaw grinds, you can see his right eye twitch. You want to reach out to him but he probably won't tolerate it right now. He frequently misreads sympathy for pity. I'm starting to understand why.

"When I was eight she said to get in the car, I was allowed to go to the grocery store with her. The nearest was the next town to the east. Halfway there she pulled over and told me to get out, then she left. A neighbor driving home from the store saw me and took me to Lita. I do not know how long I was out there but I was very hungry." Here Diego pauses and swallows, "Lita said I ate a pound of beans." His wry smile is bitter.

Brown eyes turn to you, his face is closed and guarded at first. You keep your mouth shut and just look at him. Slowly but surely, Diego's big body relaxes behind you, his eyebrows flatten and his lips soften.

"When I was ten she pushed me through an open window. He beat me with the metal frame from the broken screen. At twelve I burnt one of the kitchen cabinets trying to make food before they got home. It was a rake that time. Thirteen was a microwave, I did not know about the thing with aluminum foil so it sparked and it was ruined. Also, I somehow got a video tape tangled in the VCR, I have no idea how. I begged my friend not to leave, father would not do anything until we were alone. It only made it worse." You can't take it anymore, your right hand comes up to his far shoulder and strokes up to cup his jaw.

Diego turns toward you, rests his forehead into your neck, then proceeds to give you more. "I was sixteen when father staged the coup and killed his uncle to take over the cartel. He and Alicia sent me on 'errands'. I learned that these were suicide missions when I turned nineteen. Each time I came home fucked up but alive they were furious. Every time the cartel experienced a setback Alicia convinced everyone it was my fault, that I somehow ruined everything I was given." The seismic effect of his voice has shrunk in correlation to his volume. You can clearly tell that this is the time period when Alicia cemented into his mind that he was a total fuckup.

Rough beard sears your skin as Diego raises his head to rub a cheek on you. You shudder and fist his shirt in your hand. With a deep sigh he goes on, "I was twenty-two when I made my first deal with a cousin. It took three years but we arranged for a rival outfit to give information to the DEA and they took our father away. Alicia decided this was her chance to take over everything but the men did not all take her seriously as a woman. Thus, she finally had a use for me and so here I am still."

You lean into him, rubbing back. Diego is the first and only person with whom you have actively wanted and enjoyed cuddling. He always smells good to you, even when he should probably shower you still like to bury your nose in his hair and breathe deep. Its gotta be pheromones.

"She doesn’t know that you made that deal, does she?" You question cautiously, wary of upsetting him. He shakes his head 'no' and brushes fleeting kisses up your neck to your cheek. You take it one step farther, "So could you potentially take over everything by yourself?"

Diego pauses to meet your gaze, his head cocks to the side just the tiniest bit. "Do… do you want me to do that?" His voice is hesitant, cautious even.

"No." You whisper softly. "I just want you safe. As safe as possible. And I know you'll be safer if she is out of your life." Your smaller hands cup his jaw through their own volition, thumbs stroking over the silver patches in his goatee. Plunging straight into the deep end, you offer an alternative, "Or, if that isn't a viable option, maybe you could quote-unquote 'retire'?" You study his beautiful face as his eyes unfocus while he digests your words. His brow furrows and he purses his lips in concentration.

"That is worth some deliberation, Princess." Diego admits. Then, with a visible shake, he comes back to the topic at hand. "But now, it is your turn. Turn back, huh? I'll read this." Big hands move you around like a ragdoll and you melt a little inside, I wonder if he could just carry me like a baby all day.

You snuggle back into thick torso and sigh with pleasure. Yes, you're still anxious about this but you trust Diego more. Knees drawing up, you hide in your thighs, he only squeezes you tighter. You can hear him picking up the tablet and. And.

Breathe. Just breathe. My jeggings are soft, the couch is slightly fuzzy, his pants are silky, the blanket is plush. I'm here, with Diego, right now. Safe. You practice the grounding techniques that have worked in the past while he reads silently. His stillness is killing you slowly.

Finally, the tablet goes back to the cushion and the second hand comes back to you. Diego grips your stomach tightly before speaking, "Princess. You understand that you are beautiful, yes? I said I love you because I meant it. You. Just like this. Round and soft and thick. With your glasses and your big dark eyes and these curls in so many shades of brown and silver. Smart, sarcastic, funny, ballsy. You are shrewd and sneaky, that's sexy!" He chuckles a bit and you laugh raggedly, trying to hold back tears.

"But," he continues in a milder tone, "I understand why you were unnerved earlier. I did not mean to absorb you, or, or erase you. I only want to take care of you. Spoil you how you deserve it. You understand?" That dark voice directly in your ear is incredibly distracting, and then the words register in your consciousness.

"I, I mean I understand but I don't get it. You know?" Your voice is raspy, you're so tired deep in your soul. This is everything you never allowed yourself to dream of and you're not entirely sure that maybe you aren't in a coma somewhere hallucinating all of this. It certainly feels real, you snort to yourself as you pet over Diego's muscled arms.

Nuzzling into your neck, he sighs deeply, "Oh, I do. You have no criminal record, you rescue tiny baby animals, I have seen you buy food for other people when their card declines, you sort recycling, woman." Here he laughs wryly and you join him. You see his point, you're both from very different backgrounds and from the outside probably don't seem like a good fit. But still…

"Most of my insecurities come from my size and the way that has influenced other people's demeanor toward me. You have never behaved like that, you always treated me just like all other women. It's both confusing and freeing. Like, at times I don't know how to behave but other times I just run with it." Your confession comes out evenly and sounds logical. Huh, maybe I'm finally getting over some of this.

Diego hums thoughtfully from where he is pressed into your cheek. "And you have always treated me like a person, not a bank or just a good time. Or a path to power." His voice is raspy and low, full of emotion. "As though my feelings mattered. Even that first night. You regarded me as an equal." You chuckle with the memory of forcing him to come to you in the club when you first met. His dimpled smile of delight still has the same effect on you. Recalling the morning after when he wasn't at all fazed upon seeing you while sober and well-lit fills you with warmth, too.

Diego goes on, oblivious to your musings, "I want to take care of you as a partner, not take you over. I want you just as you are, I wouldn't have taken you home, or texted you later, or invited you back if I didn't. I will share everything with you. I have kept you from the business for your own safety, but I, but if, if you want to see or learn, I know you would be an exceptional addition. It would change your life drastically and I did not want to make that decision for you; that would not end well."

You can hear the restrained hope in his words. His serious consideration of leaving the business for you is a revelation. He really and truly wants to share his life with you; to make a life together, not simply add you to his own as an accessory. He values your input and observations but doesn't want to put you in a precarious or dangerous situation. Being with him like this already does that. I'm already in this far, I'm IN LOVE WITH HIM.

"I want to think about it. I can't lie, of course I like the idea of being taken care of, not having to worry about things. But I still need to be my own individual, not a dependent, you know?" Its easier when you can't see him, you're less likely to shutdown and go nonverbal. Diego clearly understands this, and therefore you. Its new and novel and comforting and terrifying.

With a kiss to your cheek he leans back a bit to whisper, "That is understandable and reasonable. I have been doing research, reading on normal relationships and not so normal women. I have never done any of this before. But know this: Everything I have, everything I am, is yours, Princess. My wealth, my connections, my power, me, my heart, this dick, all yours."

You snort through tears, "That's like a fucking hallmark card, baby." It hurts underneath your ribs, Is this what love is supposed to feel like or am I doing it wrong? He's certainly doing it right. You giggle unevenly before amending, "Except for the dick. That is all Diego."

His laugh is deep and soft. "I have never bought a card in my life. Is that really what they're like?" He asks incredulously. Your enthusiastic nod only makes him laugh harder, the hoarseness of it giving way to wheezing. "That is horrible!"

"I know!" You crow and then collapse back into him in helpless guffaws. Diego wheezes into your hair, grabbing your hands and holding tight.

"But," he pauses to giggle briefly, "But, can we try? Will you at least consider more for me? I wasn't sure when to tell you, but... we are going to split the territory and the duties. I am going to stay here, in New York, full time." Diego declares haltingly, his voice quavers with the fear of rejection. "You can come here whenever you wish and I'll be able to reach you in two hours on any day. I want to be as close to you as possible, close for you."

You turn around slowly, openly gawking at him. His big brown eyes are wet, he blinks furiously and licks his lips in apprehension. This dangerous, powerful, stunning man is afraid of your refusal.

"You… I. I don't know what. That's. No one has ever…" you trail off and gesture vaguely. Your question is thick with shock, "You're rearranging your life for me?"

Diego shrugs half-heartedly. "You are my priority, Princess. I don't want a life without you. Please tell me that is ok-kay." His voice hitches. For this man that is practically begging.

You can feel your throat closing up, its all you can do to nod and throw yourself into his arms. That big body sags with relief as Diego crushes you to him. Burrowing into his neck, you choke out fiercely, "I love you, Diego Jimenez."

His choppy sigh, the soft, "Te amo, Princess." It all shatters you apart. When the pieces come back together again its Diego who fits them into place, Diego who holds you together, Diego who tries to set you free to thrive on your own terms.

This is like the most ridiculously lovesick puzzle in the universe. Fucking feelings.

#damnit diego #murder panther #starz power diego jimenez #rough me up then dick me down #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #maurice compte #zash writes

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wonderlandmind4 · 7 years ago

Text

Delicate Stages Ch 48

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x OFC Ana Rios

Summary: Bucky Barnes agrees to participate in Deprogramming Sessions. What he gets is not anything like he expected.

Warnings: Language. Violence. Blood. Fighting. Choking.

Words: 6k+ @justreadingfics @nerdyandproud9 @buffy-morgendorffer-01

One hour before Stage Ten:

Impatient fingers taps against a wooden surface, waiting for Ana’s confirmation. Max sighs, checking the time on his phone once again, a notification buzzing as he does. The message he was waiting for comes through, though it's not what he was expecting. He rereads the text to double check; Ana has moved the time of the last stage an hour out, and to take his lunch if he pleases. Slight suspicion registers in his gut, but when another text come through with nothing but pizza and coffee emoji, the feeling settles. Locking his phone, Max stands up from his desk in the Security department, deciding to take his lunch.

Half hour before Stage Ten:

Max is just about finished with his food, crushing the wrapper of the sandwich between his hands, when Jared Sharp walks in. He halts the second he sees him sitting at the table, a confused expression crosses his face. He points behind him.

"Weren’t you just in the Lab with Rios?" Sharp questions.

Max nearly bites his tongue to hold back a snippy retort, until he picks up on the confused curiosity in his tone. "She moved it to three. It's only half past two."

Sharp frowns. "No. I just left there. She's there now with Barnes."

Max shakes his head, tossing his wrapper into the trash. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Rolling his eyes, he marches over to Max. "I mean. You are standing guard during the Session right fucking now. Yet somehow you are in two places at once."

Max snatches his phone up, rereading the text. He shows it to Jared, already standing up and pulling his gun from his belt.

"Rios didn't have her phone with-"

"Fuck. Let's go!" Max tucks his phone into his pocket, running out of the café.

Jared follows quickly behind him, also pulling out his gun. "How the hell did you let this happen?" He sounds irritated.

"I don't think you have the right to show concern for Ana right about now. Or ever." Max snips, bypassing the elevator. He presses the COM in his ear, turning it on. "I need eyes on Rios and Barnes in the Lab. possible compromise in the session. Possible Hydra personal again."

"She's still Alex's baby sister." Jared says. "I'm not that heartless."

"Could've surprised me." Max mutters.

They're dashing down the second flight of stairs when a loud explosion sounds from somewhere above them, shaking the building. They pause to stare at each other, then glance up at the ceiling. Max makes the split decision to find Ana, rather than investigate what just happened.

"Fuck." He hisses, running down the steps again.

"That's probably a diversion. Pull everyone's attention to the bomb. Get the Avengers to focus on a false breech instead of the Lab."

Goddammit, Max knows Jared’s suspicious are possible. They finally reach the floor, and the theory is proven correct. The floor is empty, as is the Lab when they enter. Max sprints towards the room, aiming his gun at the handle, shooting once and blowing off the knob.

They arrive too late. Ana is slung over someone's back, her body limp. Max's heart clenches in fear, then drops to his stomach when he sees Bucky across the shoulders of another person. The man is massive, easily able to carry the super soldier’s weight.

Next to him, Jared aims his weapon and fires. The bullet lodges in the thigh of the second man, who stumbles for a moment, the weight of Bucky making him lurch forward. The man sneers, points his gun and fires three rounds. Max dives out of the way, and the moment he springs back up, they're gone.

"Fuck!" Max shouts, tapping his COM again. No one has responded. "Rios and Barnes has been kidnapped. They're heading towards the second level of the Lab. Block all exists! Find Captain Rogers now! I repeat, find Captain Rogers!”

He turns to Jared. "I don't fucking understand, how did Bucky allow-"

Max halts. Jared is slumped against the wall, putting pressure over his chest, blood seeping between his fingers. Another wound deep in his stomach; Max presses his hand over it. He drops his gun and taps his COM once more.

"I need immediate medical attention. Deprogramming room, first level of the Lab." He requests gravely. "Two gun shot wounds to the chest and abdomen."

“Did-did I save her?” Jared gasps, trying to catch his breath. His green eyes are fading.

Apparently, he was knocked down before he could see what happened. Max is conflicted, wants to tell him the truth, but he ends up lying instead; in the end, Jared tried to protect Ana. “Yeah. You did.”

“Good, that’s good. Alex will be happy.” His eyes flutter. His breath hitches and chest stutters.

Then Jared closes his eyes. Max waits for the team to arrive, keeping his hand over the wound.

Two minutes before the Capture:

Ana stares down at the unconscious man next to her, the widow's bite taser stopping it's currents. Her knife is still embedded into his arm, and she leaves it there out of spite. She lifts her eyes to Bucky, a quip on her tongue about not knocking all the man's teeth in, except that the guy is already bleeding from the mouth. Seems like Bucky had a little more fun then she did. She pouts, sticking out her lip, then he turns to look at her.

He chuckles, a soft little sound that never fails to make her stomach flutter. "What's that look for, darlin’?"

"That was too easy." She sighs. "No fun." She holds up her right wrist. "Bracelet's handy though."

She scrunches her nose at him as he rolls his eyes, a small smile on his lips. Then he turns back to the imposter. Ana briefly wonders where Max is, and how they were able to delay him. He would have caught onto the fake guard in a second.

“I’m going to call Steve.” Ana informs. She taps her bracelet twice until it lights up. “FRIDAY.”

“Ms. Rios.” The soft lilt of the AI voice responds.

“Call St-“ She freezes. Something sharp and cold is pressing against the vein in her neck. There’s only one person next to her, can see him from the corner of her eye.

“Motherfucker.” She hisses in disgust. “It’s been you this whole fucking time.”

The needle pierces her skin, sharp and pinching hard because he doesn't give one damn about it. The foreign sensation of the drugs seep and spread throughout her veins like ice. It works fast, efficient, the effects of it already shutting down her body functions. Ana’s limbs quickly become heavy, her right arm dropping to her side, and she blinks to fight off the blurry vision.

“Call out to your Soldier, Rios.” Erik Woods whispers in her ear. “I want him to see this.”

“Fuck you.” Ana sneers, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth.

Through the cotton in her ears, she registers the soft click of his gun. Then she sees him pointing the barrel at Bucky, his back is still turned to them, questioning the agent, too busy to realize what’s happening.

“He’s a super soldier, but I’m pretty sure even he can’t survive a bullet to the head. Call him.” Erik threatens.

Ana squeezes her eyes shut, terror spiking up her spine. She’s helpless. She’s got drugs pumping into her system and a gun pointed at the man she loves. Her heart rate is slowing, her stomach churning with bile rising up to her throat. She feels a quick stinging session from the bracelet, like the sting of a bee. Dropping her eyes to her wrist, her skin glows red for a moment then returns to normal. Her bracelet just embedded a tracker into her arm, courtesy of FRIDAY, who is probably recording this exchange. She would feel hopeful, if Ana wasn’t struggling to keep herself upright.

“Do it.”

“Bucky,” Ana breathes out.

Through the blackened spots of her vision, Bucky turns. He drops the guard, a feral snarl on his face. The last thing she sees is the utter rage in his eyes, laced with fear. She think words are spoken, but it sounds like she's under water, the pressure pressing down on her body, dragging her, drowning her in darkness.

***

Silence. Darkness. Heavy.

A pounding ache brings gradual awareness. Another throb of pain pulls Ana from the fuzzy black of her mind; her head feels like its splitting open. She attempts to open her eyes, but they feel glued shut. She tries to lift her head, but it feels like it weighs 100 pounds. She tries to move her arms, but realizes she’s tied down to a chair, arms pinned with leather straps. She tries moving her legs; they’re heavy, along with every muscle in her body.

Ana

A noise breaks through the silence in her ears, muffled as if it’s submerged in water. Her head moves towards the sound, trying to find it's source. Her fingers twitch, and she suddenly begins to feel every other ache in her body coming to the surface.

Two tender spots throb in sensitive places; one on the left side of her neck, as if something stabbed her with a pencil. One on the crook of her right elbow, and a new phantom sting on her right wrist. A tracker. A miniature tracker was injected into her wrist by her bracelet, that she can feel is no longer there.

Annie doll.

Through her dark, lethargic mind, images of the previous events flash by. The two agents, the small fight, the needle puncturing her skin. Erik Wood sneering in her ear, and the terrified look in eyes so incredibly blue.

Bucky.

Ana's head shoots up. She groans and winces, clamping her teeth shut as a wave of nausea rises from her stomach. She inhales deeply through her nose, shutting her eyes, willing for it to subside. She breathes out her mouth once it passes and slowly opens her eyes. What she sees in front of her makes her close them again, because this can't be happening.

She reluctantly opens her eyes again, her worse nightmare set up right in front of her. Bucky is there, a relieved expression washing over his face, shoulders slumping. He’s sat several feet away from her, locked down to the electro-shock chair. The one that has starred in her nightmares. The one that tortures, that suppresses memories, erases the mind; Bucky's mind.

"Annie, thank God." Bucky sighs, his voice slightly shaky, smiling despite their current predicament.

"No." She whispers horrified.

Breathing hard through her nose, her chest expanding up and down, she swallows back the bile burning in her throat. Her chin trembles and she grind her teeth together to stop from screaming. Devastating defeat shines in Bucky’s eyes, his grin now self-deprecating, tugging at his mouth. As if he’s saying that he failed her. If anyone has failed anyone, it's Ana. She couldn't keep him out of Hydra’s hands.

She vehemently shakes her head, ignoring the pounding ache. "No, no, no!"

The last word breaks, tears stinging and welling up in her eyes. Fear prickles throughout her body, she doesn't know how to get him out of this. She doesn't know how to save him. She’s helpless. She begins to tremble.

"Hey," Bucky coos softly. "Sweetheart, it's going to be alright. I'll keep you safe, I promise."

God, of fucking course his only goal here is to protect her. He is held prisoner it that chair once again, and all he can think about is saving her. Ana can't blame him though, since her only goal is to protect him too, free him from the never ending tentacles of Hydra.

"This is my fault." He continues ruefully. There's a split second of fear crossing his face before he schools it again. It lingers in the air.

"No, no. Don't!" Ana nearly gasps, trying to control her breathing. "I'm so sorry, Bucky. I-"

"Ana." His voice is so gentle, it tugs at her heart. "Don't you dare blame yourself."

She watches as Bucky glances around the room before he flexes his arms, biceps bulging beneath his shirt. Something snaps on his restraints, and in a few seconds Bucky will be free. It's then Ana notices two machines dawning automatic guns on either side of him. She lifts her eyes, the same machines are on her too, whirring to life as if-

“Ah ah, Sergeant." Erik Woods suddenly tisks from behind Ana. "You break free, those guns will shoot her. She breaks free, they shoot you. Wouldn’t want her blood on your hands now would we?”

Ana's heart sinks to her feet. He can't know that. There's no way he could know Bucky's deepest and worse fear. Bucky stops moving, an absolutely feral look on his face, his jaw clenching. Abruptly his expression turns stoic, but Ana sees the flash of terror reflecting in his eyes, feels it taint his energy. A harsh hand grabs her, gripping her hair and yanking her head backwards.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Bucky shouts, struggling against the bonds again. The guns next to Ana move, whirring to life once more. He halts.

"Took you long enough to wake up." Erik teases, then shoves her head forward. He walks around so he's standing between them, smirking pridefully at her, mocking her. Ana wishes a slow painful death on him.

"If you escape, Rios, if you use your nifty little ability to shut down the power, I’ll put a bullet in that damaged brain of his. Let’s test that shall we?”

Erik’s hand jerks towards her throat, wrapping his fingers around her neck in a bruising, vice grip. All air is cut from Ana.

She hears thrashing, hears Bucky screaming “Get your fucking hands off her!”

Ana’s eyes fall to him, watching as he jerks in the chair, rage coloring his face, horror in his eyes. She clenches her fists, trying uselessly to gasp for air. Her windpipe feels seconds away from being crushed. Her vision is beginning to blacken around the edges and her face is burning, blood pounding in her ears. Her body begins to jerk involuntary, desperate to break free, desperate for air. Bucky’s screams of fury fade out in her ears. Her heart pumping slower.

Woods finally releases her. Her head drops forward, Ana heaving air to fill her lungs. She gasps, and sputters, coughing as she regains her breath, her cheeks wet from unwilling tears. She inhales mouthfuls of air, trying to get the oxygen back to her brain, refill her lungs.

“His life is worth more than yours? How pitiful.” He rolls his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. "He's nothing but our weapon. Our perfect asset."

"I will murder you, and I will take my sweet ass time doing so." Bucky growls, a snarl on his lips.

Ana wills her body to calm down, holding her ability back as much as she can. "You-you were in charge of everything." She pants, voice strained and ragged. "You realize once we-we get out of here, that we're all coming for you, right?"

"You think so? As you said, I have been in charge of everything." Erik smiles menacingly back at her, pulling out a gun from his belt. He scratches his chin with the barrel. Insane fucker.

"Those Avengers have no fucking idea either of you are here. I had to distract them, I had to distract everyone including you during your little session. I hacked into your phone, sent a text to Max. I planted a harmless bomb on the west side of the building, drawing almost every agent, every guard, every Avenger's attention away from the Lab."

Ana frowns briefly, shifting her eyes to meet Buckys own confused gaze. They come to the same conclusion simultaneously. That's what Ana had felt, the energy from the bomb, the energy from people buzzing around it.

"You'd think I'd just waltz in there without a plan?" He continues, "I've been planning this for years."

Bucky shakes his head, mouthing, Years? Ana shrugs the best she can with her arms held down. She refocuses her eyes on the crazy man in front of her.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" She demands. Might as well keep him talking, since he's wrong about no one knowing they're here.

He spins, a manic grin on his face. "I convinced Simon Mills to speed up the triggers, and to over take the fifth stage. I delayed you on purpose, Rios. I sent one of our agents to compromise the ninth stage. I have been undercover since the fall of SHIELD and Hydra in DC during 2014. I stayed undercover because I had a bigger mission than Alexander Pierce."

Ana's heart is racing. Erik steps closer to her, dragging a condescending finger down her cheek. She jerks away from his touch, and she can feel how tangible Bucky's rage is.

"It was meant to be you all along, AnaRosa Rios." Erik admits. "You heard of Dr. Zola's Algorithm? A program that targets anyone who's a threat, now or in the future, to Hydra. We knew of someone from your family to be special...your mother."

Ana's blood begins to boil at the mention of her mother. The shift in the air goes unnoticed by Erik.

"She was an Empathetic Healer just like you, though no where near your caliber. Which is probably why she never mentioned it to you, huh." Erik shrugs and continues.

"Your mother was rather sick during her first pregnancy, did you know that? Your father decided to take her to a Doctor named Murphy Woods. He told her she was a high risk pregnancy, kept her coming back for vitamin injections, or so he said. He gradually injected her with a serum, one designed to make our own special group of soldiers from birth."

"Fuck." Bucky breathes from behind Woods.

Ana can hardly react right now, keeping her eyes locked on Erik. She had no idea about any of this.

"The super soldier serum is a beautiful thing." He goes on. "Though we could never fully recreate it. However, if we could take that concept, and design it to activate the X gene in DNA, why not? We could easily monitor newborns, children, figure out if they were enhanced. The only problem was, the drug was too new, it took too long.

“Until your family came along. Dr. Woods, or dad, as I like to call him, convinced your mother that her second pregnancy was high risk as well. It was perfect, there was only a three year difference between the babies. We could watch the eldest child, while keeping an eye on the infant."

"You sick fuckers." Ana whispers horrified, wanting to throw up. They've been watching her and Alex their entire lives. They lied to her parents. They lied to her mother, made her put her trust in a soulless person for the sake of experiments.

Erik ignores her. "We thought it was moot. Nothing had happened. Until your parents had a helping hand being run off the road and died 14 years later. The power at the funeral knocked out, along with ten other blocks. We knew it was one of her children. So, we followed closely, Alex always seemed to be around when it happened. Then he enlisted in the army. He beat out everyone else in training. He was tall, fit, fast, strong. Everything we knew the super soldiers to be.

"We thought it was him, and we took him. Needed to whip him into compliance." He turns to look at Bucky. "You know how that is, Soldier."

"I will rip your dick straight off your body you piece of shit." Ana threatens lowly, clenching her hands.

It’s hard to breathe, her lungs hurt, her stomach rolls, her chest is tight. Hydra took her entire family from her. This whole time, Hydra was also responsible for her parents death. The air grows thicker, hotter; energy sizzles at her fingertips.

Erik tisks, walking around until he’s behind her again, pressing his cheek against hers. "Ah, ah, Rios. That tongue will get you both in trouble. We wasted time on your pathetic brother. Could've spent all this effort shutting that bitchy, stubborn mouth of yours up." He harshly grabs a fist full of her hair at the roots, yanking her head back. Ana yelps. His lips graze her ear.

"I will make you watch him suffer before I break you." Erik jerks her head forward, releasing her hair.

The lights in the room glow bright and the machines the guns are attached to shake. Erik is in front of her again, one eyebrow quirked up, as if challenging Ana to do more. She inhales slowly, thinks of keeping Bucky safe and bullet free, and controls her rage. The lights return to normal and the machines stop.

“Good girl." Erik smiles patronizingly. “Obviously, we figured out it wasn't your brother, but since we already started the memory wiping with him, we sent him to kill you, just for fun. It nearly worked, until we realized how powerful you really were. Without even knowing it!"

He laughs haughtily, the noise echoing through her bones. He comes closer to her, bending over. "You probably would have made a great addition to Hydra, the both of you. The Life Drainer. The Soldier. Too bad we convinced Alexander to kill himself. Just shot himself in the head, crying to protect his baby sister.”

Ana feels fire in her veins. She spits in Erik's face. A sharp, stinging pain shoots across her left cheek as her face is jerked to the side. She hears Bucky bellow, struggling against the chair. Ana blinks the shock away, stretching her jaw to combat the pain. She turns her back to glare at Erik, seething. The lights flicker again, and she forms a plan.

When she spits in his face a second time, Erik’s hand shoots to her throat, squeezing his fingers around her neck once more. This is what she was counting on. Bucky is screaming, but Ana begins pulling Erik’s energy out from his body. It takes him several long moments to realize what she’s doing. Then he abruptly releases her, backhanding her hard across the mouth with the butt of his gun.

“Clever fucking bitch!” He gasps, taking a step back.

Warm blood gathers quickly in her mouth from her busted lip, Ana spits blood and saliva at his feet. Erik grabs her hair again, feeling several strand ripping from her scalp, yanking her head back roughly.

“Just for that..."

He tucks his gun away, then pulls a device out of his back pocket. He shows it off to Ana with a manic grin. A small five prong disk that looks like the widow's bite, each point long, a half inch in width and as sharp as needles. He presses the middle, then stabs the device against her inner right knee.

A searing pain pierces though her leg. Feeling like the rods in her knee are being yanked from her bones. Ana screams in agony, throwing her head back. It’s nothing but blinding pain, building and building until something pops inside her knee. Tears sting behind her closed eyes, falling down her cheeks, her hands gripping the edges of the chair.

She can barely hear Bucky calling out for her, but it's his voice that has her trying to rein in her own screams, to control her own breathing. She's had worse pain, she tells herself, and begins to breathe through her mouth.

“There. Stark's pieces of shit technology disabled.” Erik says gleefully. "Probably shouldn't list a knee injury in your file, sweetheart."

Ana hears Buck threatening him again, so she focuses on his voice, no matter how menacing he sounds. She has to be strong for him, she has to be able to grit her teeth, suck it up and get him out of that chair. She has to save him; she will be damned if Bucky falls right back into the abusive, heartless hands of Hydra once more.

Inhaling a deep, calming- shaky- breath, Ana drops her head back down, finding Bucky's eyes through her own watery ones. She offers him a weak grin and the look on his face breaks her heart.

"I'll get you out of here, Annie, I swear it." Bucky whispers, his voice cracking as a few tears escape his own blue eyes.

Ana nods, biting her lip but winces at the cut. The pain in her knee is subsiding into a throbbing ache. She slowly kicks her legs out to test it, but the white-hot pain shoots back up her thigh. If she escapes this, it's going to be difficult to fight, hell, to even walk. Erik suddenly pats her thigh, causing Ana to grit her teeth; a wave of sick curling dangerously in her stomach.

“We could see it, you know." Erik sighs in a dreamily sick tone. "Imagine it. Having an asset with your powers would make Hydra unstoppable. The Winter Soldier and an Energy Alchemist. Someone who could literally drain the life from people with just a simple touch. They were meant to take you, not your brother. They were meant to brainwash you, Rios."

"But, things happen and get in the way, so I waited, biding my time. Then the Winter Soldier ends up in the same place I am. Under cover for years, which was amazing fucking luck! The best part? You went ahead and fell in love with each other.”

He snickers maniacally. “That’s where you failed. Love is weakness.”

Ana is in an immense amount of pain, her right leg beginning to go numb from her shin down, with a radiating sharp pain shoots up her thigh. Her neck is sore, bruised and hot with her vocal chords possibly damaged. Blood is still seeping into her mouth, so she spits it out once again. She can't take this anymore, she cracks. She shakes her head, chuckling under her breath, before her laughter becomes louder.

“Um. Ana, baby? You still with me?” Bucky questions confused and concerned, his voice raw from screaming.

“Something funny, Rios?” Erik demands.

“Fucking hilarious.” Ana sneers at him. “Every villain, which is you by the way, dickless, believes that. That love has no place in a world of violence and control, world domination. Love isn’t weakness, you fucking tit bag. It’s strength. Just because your sick as fuck father was fixated on other children rather than his own son doesn't mean it's weak."

Erik grabs her face, his grip pressing into the cut on her lip. She hit a nerve for sure, given the glint of rage in his eyes.

"I'm going to shut that nasty mouth of yours up, by making you watch your beloved Soldier’s mind be blended again. He won't recognize you, won’t remember you. He will shoot you on my command and you will be powerless to stop it."

He releases her face, looks at her blood on his thumb, then wipes it on his jeans. "What I neglected to inform you, Rios, is like the Captain and the Asset here, we can recreate the serum injected into your mother. We can take your blood, and recreate your powers."

Erik jeers. "So, if I wanted to kill you. If I really wanted to, I would have no regrets in losing your source. I just need your blood, and you don't have to be alive for that."

Ana knew he fucking took blood from her already. The tiny needle mark in the crook of her elbow is evidence. She glares at Erik, wishing he could burn in hell at this very moment.

"The greatest thing about this," He chuckles like he was granted the best thing he could wish for. "Is that you nearly fixed him. You almost deprogrammed him to, what? Just end up back in his favorite little chair."

He leers at Bucky. "I see the fear in your eyes, Barnes. You won't be able to work your way through this one."

Ana's skin prickles with terror, with failure, and she wants to focus her energy, use it to pull Erik's out, to stop this process from happening. But the guns are still poised at Bucky, following every minuscule move she makes. If she does that, the guns will fire. She doesn't know what to do at this point, but she can not just sit here and watch him go through torture once again.

"Bucky." Her voice cracks, raspy. Copper heavy on her tongue, bile dangerously threatening to escape.

Bucky inhales slowly, closing his eyes. He takes a moment, before breathing out and reopens them. The smile he gives her is soft, loving, as if they're back in his bed wrapped around each other. The fondness in his eyes is there, it's the same one he gives her when she's rambling on about something.

"It's going to be fine, Annie. I swear." Bucky tells her firmly. "Don't worry, darling."

"I love you." She nearly whimpers, she has to tell him, to remind him. "I'm so sorry. I love you."

"I love you so much." He replies, his voice soft.

Erik moves behind her, pressing something on the wall; the buzz of the chair come to life. He apparently pulled his gun out again, pressing the barrel to Ana's jaw from behind her. Bucky falls silent, a murderous look overtaking his expression.

Ana's heart stutters in her chest at the sight of it all. She forces air out of her nose, and flexes her arms against the restraints. He leans down to her level, his lips grazing over her ear.

"The most satisfying part of this," Erik whispers menacingly. "Is having you watch all your hard work come undone. You failed, Ana. Did you think that your silly little tactics were going to work? Deprogram decades of Hydra's most successful project with some meaningless, pathetic exercises. You’re delusional.”

Ana closes her eyes against the prickling she feels in them. Clenching and unclenching her fist. She's made her decision, can feel energy buzzing at her fingertips. She has to prevent that chair from hurting Bucky.

"Did you honestly think," He pauses, pressing his mouth closer. "That falling in love with him would just erase everything?"

Ana jerks her head away from Erik. He straightens up and removes the gun. A tear escapes from her left eye, rolling down her cheek. Slowly, Ana locks gazes with Bucky, his expression broken, blue eyes wide and desperate.

I'm so sorry, she mouths at him as another tear falls. He shakes his head, still offering her a calm smile, those fond crinkles by his eyes.

"No matter what happens, you are the realest thing in my life," Bucky reminds her gently.

"This will be fun." Erik chirps gleefully from behind her. He smacks his hand against something once more.

Suddenly, the machine whizzes to life, and the chair leans back. Bucky's chest is heaving with every anticipating breath, his hands squeezing into fists. The head pieces move to press firmly against his face, the zapping of electricity echoes throughout the room. A clenched scream rips from Bucky's throat; pierces straight through Ana's heart, shattering in her chest.

She can't take her eyes off him, watching horrified as the machine begins to wipe his brain once more. Ana can't let that happen to him again. Can't let the pain, the torture, continue. There's so much energy whizzing throughout the room, growing with the sound of Bucky's screams filling her ear; her body, her soul.

The buildup of energy is quick, can feel it surging around her, prickles her skin like needles. Ana feels it, holds that feeling in her chest until it's about to burst. She inhales slowly, then releases it. A bright light explodes through the room, the lighting simultaneously shutting off.

The room is thrown into darkness, the chair ceases noise along with Bucky's screams. There's a thud behind her, like a body hitting the floor. The only source of light is coming from a red emergency bulb. It only took three seconds.

With the power temporarily down, Ana pulls as hard as she can against her bonds until they snap free, burning away from the hot energy emitting from her skin. She launches out of her chair, stumbling towards Bucky, adrenaline masking any pain. She yanks the arms of the machine, putting her foot on the chair for leverage. It gives way, Ana nearly falls back with momentum. She climbs onto the chair, straddling Bucky's thighs, placing her hands on his face, the same spots where the paddles were.

"Bucky, Bucky. Look at me!" Ana pleads frantically. His eyes are unfocused, head lulling against the chair. "I'm here, Bucky, come back to me. Please…James. Come back to me.”

"Annie." He murmurs, slowly picking his head up. She smiles at him, beginning to use her ability to heal what she can.

"Zhelaniye! Rzhavyy! Semnadtsat!" The words are shouted behind her, one right after the other.

Bucky's eyes flicker.

"No, no, Bucky, focus on me." Ana coaches shakily. "Focus on the good memories."

"Rassvet! Furnace! Pech!"

Bucky shakes his head, then yanks his arms free of the restraints. The movement shifts Ana, but she locks her thighs to stay on. His hands grip her hips tightly, making her wince.

"Bucky-"

"Go!" Bucky abruptly snaps.

"No. I am not leaving you!" Ana tells him fiercely. "Keep fighting it."

"Devyat! Dobroserdechnyy!"

"Can't." He mutters, his body shaking with the effort to hold back.

"Yes you can! Remember what's real in here. You can fight this!"

"Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu! Odin!"

Ana presses her forehead against his, moves her hand to the center of his chest. Bucky grits his teeth, his grip tightening on her hips enough to bruise.

"Run." He murmurs.

"Gruzovoy vagon!!"

Ana is thrown backwards, crashing hard onto the floor, pain radiating throughout her body, but she ignores it all. She rights herself quickly, staring up at Bucky who's looming over her, peering down at her with a thousand-yard stare, eyes void of any emotion. The flashing red light illuminates his stone cold face; it's the first time he truly looks terrifying. He tilts his head to the side as he looks at her. Ana and Erik speak at the same time.

"Bucky?"

"Soldat?"

She hopes the theory of the last triggering phrase isn’t true. For several long moments, Bucky just continues to stare at Ana. Then, he lifts his eyes to look behind her.

"Gotovy soblyudat." He responds flatly, emotionless. The Winter Soldier replacing her Bucky.

"No." Ana sobs. She slowly stands up, Bucky's eyes snapping back to hers. She limps closer, firmly pressing both hands against his chest again.

"Ona vrag. Ubey' yeye." She is the enemy, kill her.

Bucky suddenly grabs her left wrist, twisting her arm away as he swings his metal fist towards her face. Ana ducks, nearly avoiding his punch, and brings her left knee up to nail him in the gut. His hand loosens enough for her to pull her arm away, turning to find a weapon of some sort. The only weapon she can reach is in Erik's hands, who seems content to watch Bucky kill her. That is not going to happen.

A metal arm wraps around her neck, locking her a choke hold. Flashes of that first time run through her mind. She tires the same move, but Bucky lifts her, cutting of air supply, her toes barely touching the floor. Instead, Ana performs the same trick she had done while he was training her. She quickly finds his knee with her foot, uses the leverage to twist and push herself up, swinging her right leg around and twisting in the air.

Her move breaks Bucky’s hold enough, his arms slipping down her body. She kicks off his shoulder harder than she did during training. The force of it knocks him backwards, falling to the ground. Ana lands on her feet.

She's abruptly reminded of the device still lodged in her knee and she crumples. Ana clenches her teeth, yelping as she grabs the device and slowly pulls it out of her knee; blood dripping to the floor. She takes too much time doing it, and when she steadies herself, Bucky is standing. He halts, head tilted slightly. He seems...confused, eyebrows knitted together slightly.

"You know who I am, Bucky." Ana states, keeping her strained voice calm. "You know me, Sergeant Snowflake."

His head twitches, eyes flashing. Ana lifts the device, then throws it at Erik. She takes advantages of the Bucky’s conflicted stare, moving past him and advancing towards Erik. He lifts his gun, aiming and firing at her chest. The bullet is blocked by a metal arm in front of her. Ana blinks in surprised, before she's shoved backwards, out of the line of fire.

"You fucking moron! I said kill her!" Erik shouts.

Bucky's head twitches again, and he widens his stance. It gives Ana the opportunity she needs. She takes several, painful, steps backwards, grits her teeth, then sprints. She drops down at the last moment, sliding between Bucky's legs and pops up directly in front of Erik.

His look of appalled shock is amusing.

"You forget who you fucked with." She sneers, then promptly thrusts the heel of her palm up into his nose.

She hears a satisfying crunch but doesn't waste time, kneeing him in the gut. Erik doubles over grunting, blood streaming from his nose. Ana steals the gun from his slackened grip, but he suddenly grabs her arm, yanking her to the side. Her knee twinges sharply in pain and she stumbles, gritting her teeth.

He slams her against the wall, knocking the gun out of her hand. Ana kicks his knee cap with her left foot, Erik shouting out in pain. She breaks away from his hold, taking the chance to go for the gun.

She stops short. The metal of the gun gleams against the crimson light, barrel pointing straight at her held by Bucky. There's a split moment where time stands still as they stare at each other.

Then, the Winter Soldier pulls the trigger.

*******************************************************************

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#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #delicate stages

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