#been working on this doc since the beginning of the year UMM

[seqyv]

[HYSTERIA CANON - SCP-173 REWRITE.]

ITEM #: SCP-173

LEVEL-2 -- RESTRICTED

CONTAINMENT CLASS: EUCLID DISRUPTION CLASS: VLAM/KENEQ RISK CLASS: WARNING

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-173 is to be contained within Site-19's Anomalous Art & Humanoid Containment Wing, and is assigned a reinforced-concrete chamber. When personnel assigned to cleaning duty enter SCP-173's container, no less than three (3) persons may enter at any given time and the gates must be relocked behind them. Two (2) persons must maintain direct eye contact with SCP-173, while one cleans the surface area of SCP-173’s chamber, until all personnel have vacated and relocked the chamber.

Description: SCP-173 is an animate cognito-hazardous statue resembling a human composed of concrete, rebar and traces of spray paint with an atypically high concentration of isobutyl acetate (C6H1202). Its primary anomalous characteristic is its mobilization and hostile, predatory behavior towards any biological organism in the vicinity that exceeds a certain threshold of intelligence. However, when visually observed by such organisms, the anomaly becomes immobilized and temporarily activates its secondary, cognitive-damaging effects. These secondary effects are:

mild paranoia, anxiety;

subtle, unpleasant olfactory hallucinations.

These effects occur, intensify sequentially, and immediately subside when line of sight is broken. These effects typically don’t result in permanent damage to the psyche and are relatively easy to treat.

SCP-173 is also capable of instantaneous acceleration. It retains momentum when immobilized, allowing it to resume movement as if it had never stopped. SCP-173 has been observed to reach record-breaking speeds aswell, traveling roughly 22 meters a second (= 50 mph / 79 km/h) when unobserved.

SCP-173 is highly aggressive and prefers to target isolated, vulnerable individuals, presumably for an advantage as suggested in later interviews beginning from 1997 (ADDENDUM-01-1997). In addition, SCP-173’s preferred killing method is by snapping the neck at the base of the skull or violent strangulation. SCP-173’s preferred means of traveling is via the ventilation system and on foot.

The reddish-brown substance the anomaly produces resembles a mixture of bio-waste in texture and odor; the origin of these materials is unknown and exclusively manifests ectoentropically in rooms it is in while out of sight. The enclosure must be cleaned on a bi-weekly basis. Sounds of scraping stones originating from within the container are heard when no one is inside. This is considered normal, and any change in this behavior should be reported to the acting HMCL supervisor¹ on duty.

DISCOVERY: Moved to Site-19 in 1993. Origin is as of yet unknown, suggested to be an art piece constructed by an unknown sculptor who belongs to a sub-sect of GoI-2979 (“Are We Cool Yet?”) which focuses on Dadaist principles, instigating the breakdown of logical superstructures and coherency.

ADDENDUM-01-1997: As of 1997, it has been revealed that SCP-173 could participate in limited verbal communication after repeated attempts to initiate a conversation with the anomaly. Interview logs are to be added.

Note: SCP-173 has become habitually verbally aggressive and refuses to offer any information pertaining to its origin and purpose. Interviews have been indefinitely suspended and stricter containment procedures have been implemented.

REFERENCES USED: SCP-173-B DOCUMENT FROM SCP-5K. ORIGINAL SCP-173 DOCUMENT.

NOTES: ¹ “HMCL supervisor” is a role akin to the lead researcher working on an SCP. They are in charge of said SCP and control almost everything involving it. They deal with everything related to it and what course of action to take.

[writing-in-april]

Question and Answer

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Garcia gets Reader to answer some questions about their feelings for Spencer.

A/N: Hey heyyyy- here’s the twelfth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! Oh my gosh 😱 can’t believe how many I’ve posted in a row already- thanks for all the love on them 🥰 This fic is based on this request- Writing Penelope along with Derek as side characters is one of my favorite things about some of my fluffy pieces! Feel free to leave something in my inbox here- I love hearing from all of you! (I promise I don’t bite lol) Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Non at all☺️- though if you see something you think should carry a warning please let me know 😌

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.8k

When Penelope Garcia got you alone in her office she lovingly called her‘bat cave’ and said she wanted to ‘talk’ there was no escaping it. ‘Talking’ with her usually meant she was going to bombard you with questions, usually linked to some gossip she heard from someone.

It was usually Morgan that fed her curiosity. He was somehow able to be up to date on everything and everyone. A result of that was that Garcia always got to hear the latest thing he had heard. Once Garcia was interested in whatever your answer to the gossip might be, she was without a doubt going to ask.

That’s where you found yourself on one of the slowest work days in recent memory. It had been so slow in fact, that you had been almost about to leave early since you had finished your paperwork. That was until Garcia had called your name in a singsong tone, grasped your elbow delicately with her painted nails, and gently nudged you to come talk with her in the ‘bat cave’.

“Penelope- I really want to go home. Can’t this wait another day?” Your groan perhaps was a bit pathetic as you sat down in a chair, but it had been the first time seemingly in years that you had the chance to go home early. A nap sounded really nice right now and even though you loved Garcia, that was more exciting at the moment.

“Fine fine, yes I’ll let you go soon, quit your bellyaching. And, to answer your other question, no, it can’t wait,” She plopped down into her chair, tapped on her keyboard a few times to close out some files, and then focused all her attention on you, “Just quickly answer my questions- Wait, no! Actually, let’s play a game!”

Another groan, perhaps even more pathetic than the first came out of your chest, while you also let yourself slump down in your chair. Thoughts of your bed danced in your head trying to pull you into a daydream about the nap you had been planning on taking. You then tried as best as you could to keep your focus trained on her for as long as possible. If you were able to focus; it would get done faster.

“Oh hush it’s a quick game that’ll have you out of here faster.” You perked up at that, now suddenly invested in the game that was supposedly going to get you out of here quick.

“Alright- I’ll do it if it gets me out of here quickly.”

She beamed at you for a second, then grabbing one of her decorative pens and a stack of sticky notes. Rapidly she wrote down a list that you tried to peek and see, but she hid the stack with her free hand once she saw you trying to look. Once she had finished she pushed up her glasses a bit, before outlying the rules of the ‘game’, “I want you to answer my rapid fire questions and answer without thinking! It’s supposed to give the most truthful answer from what I read on the website.”

Truthfully, it sounded silly to you, but if it got this interrogation over quick you didn’t mind playing the game. Plus whenever Garcia gave you time to answer she watched whatever your body language was and used that against you to get more information out. She had picked up on how we did our job as profilers over the years. It had become almost as instinctive to her as it was to us whenever we read behavior. Any conversation we had was screaming non verbal behavioral tells at us; it was almost impossible to turn off. So with less time in between questions and answers, it would be harder for her to analyze your movements. Garcia could honestly probably take the classes to become a profiler just as JJ had done, but everyone knew her place was in front of her screen. That was where she worked her best magic.

As soon as you nodded your head, agreeing to start the game, the questions were dropped on you at a rapid pace. The questions had started out simple enough, to get you ready for whatever bombshell question she no doubt had coming. The whole goal of the game was to catch you off guard so you’d answer as honestly as possible.

“What’s better coffee or tea?” She still hadn’t dropped the bomb and asked the question that had the only useful answer to her.

These questions were easy and you were getting comfortable. Each time another question went by the lingering reminder in the back of your head trying to warn you to be on edge slowly slipped away. Mindlessly you answered her without thought, “Coffee.”

“Who’s your favorite superhero?”

“Batman.” That answer might have been biased, when you really thought hard about it. You changed your answer when you realized you chose Batman because you were in Garcia’s ‘bat cave’, “Wait no- scratch that it’s Spider man.”

“If you could be any animal what would it be?”

“A dog.”

“What is your biggest fear?”

Again, you answered without thought even though it was a harder hitting question compared to your favorite drink or what type of animal you would be,“Being alone.”

“Who would you kiss in the office?” By now you had felt comfortable in the short little game, not even realizing how the questions had shifted to what she had been looking for all along.

“Spencer.” As soon as it came out of your mouth you slapped your hand over it. It was no use, the admission had already escaped and made its way into Garcia’s ear.

“Do you like Spencer?!” You opened your mouth in protest, but the look on your face said it all. Garcia knew she had won when you hang your head down with a sigh, in defeat. “Oh! Morgan was right!”

A little squeak by the door of the bat cave then pulled you out of your embarrassment and Garcia out of her celebration. You were already embarrassed before and it then turned into absolute mortification when you turned to see the source of the noise. Spencer was standing there, slack jawed, holding a file he had meant to give Garcia.

His voice then came out with more stutters and pauses than you had ever heard before from him, “H-hey ggguuys ummm I’ve got to go- take a nap.”

You almost wanted to snort thinking that you’d like to take that nap you’d been planning on too. Garcia went to say something, possibly to break the tension or make it even worse, but he was already gone. He bolted out the door and probably all the way home before you had a chance to explain your answer to the question that just led to even more questions.

—-

As soon as you were finally freed from Garcia’s clutches you bolted as well. Except instead of going straight home to your comfy bed you had been daydreaming about you bolted to someone else’s apartment.

“Hi, Doc.” Was the first thing you squeaked out when Spencer had opened up the door to his apartment after your polite yet incessant knocks.

He blinked at you a few times, perhaps trying to convince himself that you were really here. Clearing his throat he then replied shakily,“Hi.”

“C-can I come in?” It was your turn to stutter now, you wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous about what his reaction might be. The only thing you were sure about is that he wouldn’t be outright disgusted by your feelings. You both had worked with each other for many years, becoming closer each day by day as time continued to tick by. At this point you’d call him your closest friend and you knew he wouldn’t call you disgusting for developing feelings for him. If he was going to let you down he would start by saying it’s only natural. Though, you still felt an ache in your chest even when assured that he’d at least let you down gently. Your relationship with him would be forever changed either way this conversation went.

He swung the door open more after a moment of trepidation, gesturing you through the door. You spent no time gazing around at his apartment, you had been here many times before. Instead you made a beeline for the couch, the comfiest spot to sit. You wanted to be at least comfortable if he was about to break your heart.

“C-can I ask you a question?” He fiddled with his fingers as you both sat down on his couch.

You brought your knees up to your chest as you had slipped your shoes off before sitting down. You also made sure to avert your gaze away from him, not sure if you could handle looking at him in the eyes, “What kind of question? Is it the same one as before?”

“N-no, um- well kinda… Yes and no?” The end of his jumbled sentence went up in pitch, making his own answer sound like another question.

You decided to give him a little mercy, doubting that there was any question he would ask that you would be uncomfortable with. And, you already had a feeling you knew what the question would be, “Alright Doc, I’ll let you ask your question. Go easy on me ok?”

Your little joke on the end was supposed to help him feel less nervous, but going by his awkward laugh it might have had the opposite effect. He still was able to get his next words out with a bit of confidence, “Was your answer back at work- umm honest?

Your heart fluttered at his question, beginning to beat harder in your chest as you prepared yourself to give him an honest reply. You were nervous to answer, even though you knew exactly what it was going to be deep down in your heart. Taking a deep breath you then answered the question with a simple answer, “Yes.”

He seemed relieved at your answer, relaxing his shoulders just enough that you noticed. You’d have to thank Garcia later, for finally getting you to answer the question honestly. Though, just by analyzing his behavior quickly you could tell that he still had something to say and/or ask, “Do you have another question?”

He nodded in response, his body language becoming even more closed off then before. His leg was now bouncing up and down as an attempt to soothe his building nerves. You then gave him what he had been looking for after his first question, permission to ask another, “You can ask another question, Doc.”

Tense silence sat between us for a few moments while I waited for him to speak up. He then got his courage back a little, though he still looked at the ground and fiddled with his fingers when he asked, “Would you like to go out on a date?”

It took no time to process the question, the answering instantly coming to the front of your mind. You then spoke with no trepidation, giving him a simple honest answer, “Yes.”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill out this form to join any):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat

[multiversal-madness]

Hey umm hi! It’s been a while so I’m curious in the bigger Shane gang Au, how will the movies specifically Ghoul from Beyond and return of the elementals? I have a feeling that that Blite’s reaction of seeing will again would be interesting and Junjie’s relationship with the other members too.

The movies would mostly go the same. Nothing would be different in ghoul from beyond except from the four new slingers being there too.

As for return of the elementals, Blite would probably struggle since his main slug was taken out of the fight pretty early on. But for Vance, Mario and Dana, their main slugs all fall under the earth elemental, so they wouldn’t be too bad until the earth elemental defends Doc.

When Blight sees Will however, his first instinct would be to deck him. Luckily, he has self control and manages to keep himself to only glaring.

Now for Junjie and the other’s relationships. I’ve put them under the cut cuz it could get long.

Vance Bolt and Junjie

Vance and Junjie don’t get along too well at the beginning

Vance’s method of sacrificing most things for speed and Junjie’s method of calm focus clash, especially when they’re supposed to work together

Vance is always pushing for the fastest way to finish a fight, while Junjie focuses more on less damage/more planned out routes, which often sabotages their efforts to get things done

Because of this, Vance is one of the only people that can make Junjie lose his cool, sometimes on accident and sometimes on purpose

Needless to say, the two butt heads frequently

Mario Bravado and Junjie

When they first met (after Junjie was uncorrupted) they became quite interested in each other’s slinging styles

For Mario, Junjie’s slug fu was quite the trick. Instead of coming up with what a slug needed to do and how they needed to do it in one shot, Junjie could just guide his slugs to hit the target.

It pretty much got rid of the need for trick shots. Some might think this would annoy Mario, but this became more interesting to him

For Junjie, Mario’s trick shots we’re almost unheard of. Sure, there were plenty of people in the eastern realm that would use shots that would make a slug go every which way to imitate slug fu, but this was different

Mario’s style was effective, unlike the fake slug fu. It worked in a way he hadn’t seen to much of in his home caverns

The two bonded over teaching each other about their individual styles

Dana Por and Junjie

Ever since she joined the Shane gang, Dana has become their best pranker, even being able to beat Kord in their last prank war

However, she hasn’t been able to prank Junjie since he arrived, even her most elaborate tricks didn’t work

Junjie was just too good at avoiding them, it was really starting to annoy Dana

She’s made it her personal goal to find a way to prank Junjie

As for Junjie’s perspective on this, he finds it amusing and hasn’t felt the need to stop her, though he is considering pranking her back

Blite and Junjie

I wasn’t really sure where to go with this one, but I’m leaning towards making this relationship similar to Eli and Blite’s

Despite Junjie being the dark slinger for 20 years, it’s shown he doesn’t remember it that well so mentally (maybe even physically, if the goon halted him growing properly) Junjie is still quite young

To add on to that, as far as I know Junjie’s immediate family isn’t mentioned, so he may have a situation similar to Eli (he could have even been younger when forced to step up, since Eli had to wait until he was 15)

When this traumatised young ‘hero of his caverns’ kid joins the Shane Gang, it wouldn’t take long for Blite to ‘adopt’ Junjie

With all of the nightmares that came from his time as the dark slinger, Junjie ends up joining Blite and Eli when they sit outside at night

[moonlightlullaby]

just like magic

summary: Reader has a card up their sleeve, leaving Spencer intrigued, flustered and impressed.

pairing: Spencer x gn! non-BAU! Rossi’s offspring!Reader

category: fluff 

A/N: this is one of the first gn!reader pieces that I’ve written, so please let me know if I’ve slipped up somewhere!

word count: 2.5k

No sooner had I opened the glass door leading to my dad’s “humble” backyard than Henry’s and Jack’s fresh and joyous laughter filled my ears and warmed my heart. The sight that accompanied it only adding to my gleeful state, making my heart soar and melt instantly.

Spencer Walter Reid, the bright young Doc who I’ve known - and had a patent crush on - for nearly six years now, is entertaining the kids with a magic trick. I can’t help the smile that splatters on my face as I watch the scene unfold.

“Here, angelo mio.” my dad caresses my back as his other hand offers me a glass of wine. I take it and we clink our glasses together before making our way to the cozy wooden picnic table where his other colleagues are chatting. On our way, I go off-track and get closer to the sweet magician and adorable kids. “Hello, boys!” I extend my free hand, high-fiving both of them as they harmonize a “Hi” back to me. At Spencer, I flash a smile and wink and, without waiting for his reaction, I turn around and soothe Jack’s hair as I begin distancing myself. 

“Oh what a sight for sore eyes! Y/N, you look fantastic! As always I mean…” in her very own manner that never gets old, Pen is the first to greet me, clapping in excitement and giving me a home-like hug. “Oh please! Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” she waves her hand and rolls her eyes in a way that tells me both to stop tooting her horn and to keep the compliments going, making me giggle. “And I’ve said this before, but I’ll do it again. You need to show me where you’ve bought these rings, P.”

“Oh! I have an idea,” JJ chimes in. “we should go shopping tomorrow!” by the time she finishes her sentence, I - along with Penelope, Prentiss and Tara - am nodding my head fervorously. “I’ll take you up on that one.” Em voices what all of us are thinking.

“I mean, unless a case pops up…” JJ drags it out, contorting her lips. “We won’t,” Hotch reassures everyone. “these past two weeks have been hectic and we all have overworked ourselves. You deserve the weekend off.” to which Derek, Tara and my dad, in sync, raise their glasses.

“So, ladies,” Derek hugs me, grinning. “where are we going tomorrow?” 

“We? Oh my chocolate thunder! Much as this pains me,” Pen places a hand over her chest to fuel the scene with more drama. “you’re not invited.”, which earns gasps and scoffs from him.

I lean my head on his shoulder, giving his hand two taps. “Yeah, Derek. Sorry,” I turn my face to him. “but, how are we supposed to have boy talk with you there?” the girls nod along in agreement and he smirks. 

“Boy talk, hun?” 

The thing is, Derek - much like every other person in the team... well, almost everyone - is well aware of my not-so-subtle crush on his oblivious friend and he never spares me some teasing. Thankfully, before he can take his teasing any further, I’m saved by the bell - and by the bell, I mean Henry and Jack. 

“Y/N/N, Y/N/N!” knowing how much I love magic, Henry starts pulling me towards Spencer, giving me only a second to hand my glass to Derek. “Look at this! Spencer, do it again, do it again!” 

“Yes, show Y/N the cool trick!” Jack says energetically after waving me over.

Spencer smiles at me, giving us a small nod, and turns his back to us to prepare himself for the show. I sit crisscross next to the giddy boys, feeling thrilled myself. “Alright,” Spencer turns around, observing his audience and clasping his hands together. “are you ready?” 

“Yes!” we eagerly respond in unison. 

“Y/N, I know you’re very fond of magic yourself.” I hum in agreement. “So, are you familiar with th- oh! Wait,” he furrows his brows and narrows his eyes, scanning my face for a millisecond. “what is this?” he steps closer to me, kneeling slightly and reaching for my face. The boys get more agitated and giggle. “This what?” I look back and forth between the magician and them, who immediately cover their mouths trying to conceil their giggles and to keep any secrets from escaping. “Excuse me.” Spencer mumbles before placing his hand on the side of my neck. 

This simple gesture - a shy touch, a brief moment of intimacy - is enough to make my heart skip a bit, and I’m sure Spencer notices the sudden change in my pulse because his gaze momentarily leaves the side of my face to my eyes before travelling back to its original spot.

“This.” suddenly, I feel a ghost-like touch on the back and side of my neck, and, ahead of me, all I see is Spencer pulling an endless thin colorful - scarf-looking - cloth. I can’t contain the laugh and loud snort that escape my lips, inciting the boys, Spencer and even the grown-ups over there to burst into laughter as well. 

By the time the entire cloth is out, my belly and cheeks ache and a tear is found in the corner of my eye. “Impressive, Doc! Very impressive as always.” he grins in return.

“Your turn, Y/N! Do a trick too, please” Jack suggests - well, orders basically since he knows I wouldn’t ever turn it down - and is backed up by an eager “yes!” from Henry. 

“Oh you also do tricks?” Spencer sounds less surprised that I do than that this fact was unknown to him. 

During some of my nights as Henry and Michael’s and/or Jack’s last-minute babysitter, I had to, in spite of how sweet and obedient they are, resort to desperate measures, such as magic tricks - some of which I’ve learned with the sole purpose of entertaining them. To Spencer, however, I’ve never had such opportunity. Not until now.

“Well, not as entertaining as yours, I’m sure, but yes.” I stand up, wiping bits of grass from my bottom.

“Umm, ok, I have a new one to show you, guys. I just… You wouldn’t have a deck of cards and a pen to lend me for a minute, would you?” 

“The pen, I don’t. The deck of cards, though,” he searches his pockets, pulling a standard - and well cared for - deck. “here.” he hands it to me.

“Thank you very much.” I cursty theatrically.

Jack runs back from God-knows-where with a black pen in hands. “Here, the pen. My dad said you could borrow it.” 

“Oh great! Thank you, Jack, and thank you, Aaron!” I raise my voice slightly at the end, nodding my head at Aaron and giving him a tight-lipped smile, which he mirrors.

“Okie, okie! Let’s start, shall we?” the boys exchange expectant glances and Spencer tilts his head, studying me and probably trying to predict my next moves. Hopefully, this will work. It’d be a shame failing in front not only of the boys - who, I’m sure, would never let me hear the end of it -, but also of Pretty Boy himself.

I shuffle the cards a little bit and open it, making a sort of fan with it and letting the faces and numbers face the ground. “Alright, boys, pick one card but don’t show it to me.” they both put their index fingers on the same card. “You can take it and let Spencer see.” the man standing to my left follows along and takes a peep at it. “Now, I want both of to draw whatever you feel like on it, ok? On the front.” 

As they take turns putting their art on the card, I turn to Spencer, who’s already got his curious eyes on me. “Be patient” mine tell him and he takes a sip of his wine.

“Done!” Henry looks up at me.

“Great, you can put it back on the stack then,” he does so. “Ok, now, to prove you I’m not cheating, Spencer’s going to shuffle the cards.” I hand them to him. “However you want and as many times as you wish.”

Once he’s done, I take them back. “So, now, I guarantee you the first card I show you is the exact one you’ve picked. Ready?” They nod along and I double-tap on the top of the stack. “Alright. This,” I lift the first card. “is your card.”

They immediately shake their heads negatively and my eyes go wide. “Wait, really?” Feeling Spencer smirking behind me, I turn the card to take a look at it. It really isn’t the one. “Shoot!” I exclaim disappointedly, sighing.

“No, no, it’s ok... It’s ok.” I quickly recompose myself. “The next will definitely be the right one.” with my eyes closed and my nose scrunched, I circle my free hand above the deck as if drawing in energy and conjuring magic. Double-tapping once more, I pull the card up, still not looking. 

When I open my eyes, I’m met with the boys’ scrunched noses and mischievous eyes as they, yet again, shake their heads no. “Oh no…”

This time, Spencer doesn’t even try conceiling his chuckle and has the audacity to comment “Oh, Y/N, you were too harsh on yourself earlier. This is much more entertaining than that little trick of mine.”, eliciting giggles from the kids. 

“No…” I pout. “Guys, have a little faith in me, please.”

I close my eyes and bring the cards, sandwiched between my palms, closer to my ear in an attempt to hear the magic somehow. “Oh!” I open my eyes. “Guys, come check this out!” with that, I pike their curiosity and they scoot closer to me. I turn the deck over, so all fronts are facing upwards, and open it completely. “The card is not here!” Henry gasps, noticing that their five of diamonds is missing. The boys take the cards from my hands and I fumble my fingers in the air as if trying to sense where their card is, humming in the process. 

“Ummm Jack, is there anything behind Henry’s ear?” The boy looks at me inquisitively and reaches for said spot. 

“Oh here!” he nearly shouts, pulling the missing five of diamonds and showing everyone. However, before anyone has the chance to celebrate my small victory, the absence of drawings on the card is brought up, shocking our spectators. “Where are our dinosaurs?” 

“Hey, Y/N, I hate being the party pooper,” ‘party pooper’? Coming from Dr. Spencer Walter Reid? Oh, this is news! “but it seems like you’ve just mixed two tricks and neither of them has worked.” Again, both boys laugh at it - at me -, siding with him.

“No, no, no! See, the thing about magic,” I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, gesticulating like the good Italian descendant my dad’s brought me up to be. “is that it requires a lot of concentration to work, and when you don’t focus enough on it, like I might have, it gets lost… Not completely lost, though! Uh, if we put our hearts to it, we can still find your dinosaurs, ok?” I crouch. “Can you help me out on this one?” I plead and extend my hands to them. They nod their heads and take my hands, we form something close to a circle, closing our eyes and letting magic speak. 

“Uh-oh! Oh, guys, I feel something!” 

“What is it?” and “Where are the dinosaurs?” are immediate and simultaneous reactions.

“Ummm, Spencer.” I turn to the man trying to contain his laughter at the scene that unfolds before his eyes. “Hm?” he tilts his head and raises his brows slightly, still smirking.

“Is there anything in your pockets right now?” 

“Aside from the silks, no.”

“Are you sure?” I tilt my head, contorting my lips a bit and squinting my eyes with curiosity, which he mirrors. He’s intrigued. Mission accomplished - I mean, not completely accomplished yet, but a success nonetheless.

“Well, you can check for yourself.” he opens his arms a little so I can inspect the inner pockets of his blazer. The right one is empty as expected. In the left one, my fingertips meet the colorful cloth and nothing else. 

“You’re right, Spencer.” I sigh “Only,” I start pulling the cloth out “the,” it’s now in the kids’ view “silks.” gasps and wows come from our audience. I turn to the two wide-eyed boys who are now rushing over to grab it from my hands. 

“How did you-?”

“It worked, Y/N! It worked!”

“This is so cool!”

I giggle, feeling Spencer’s baffled gaze switch between me and the dinousaur-printed cloth. I also hear applause coming from the rest of the team and a “they’ve beat Spencie at his own game! You go, love!” from the one and only Penelope Garcia. Glacing at the man in question, I catch him mouth agape, dazed eyes, and a smile threatening to take over his lips.

“Y/N/N, Y/N/N, can I keep it? It looks so pretty.” at this, I smile softly, shrugging a bit as I respond. “Well, it’s Spencer’s…” the three of us turn to the Good Doctor, who, pulled from his trance, nods vigorously and wets his bottom lip in the typical Spencer Reid style. “Yes. Definitely, Henry.” 

As the boys cheer, my dad, from the doorstep, catches everyone’s attention. “Dinner is ready, family.”

Strolling back to the house and quickly side-hugging JJ on the way, I sense a quite desperate, puzzled tall individual hot on my trail. In a breath, he catches up and starts walking side by side with me, causing me to smirk.

“How did you-” 

I don’t let him finish the much predictable question. “Oh, you don’t actually want to know the answer, Spencer.” while we cross the doorstep, I look at him from the corner of my eye, catching - once again - him already eyeing me. He opens his mouth before closing it and raises his hand before dropping it. In sympathy, I continue. “But, in case you do find yourself desperate for it, there’s something in your right pocket that might be helpful.” I can’t help smiling as the last words come out. And, without giving him the chance to question or ramble like he always does, I walk over to the dinner table, settling myself between Hotch and Tara.

As I sit down, I catch Spencer on the same spot I’ve left him, blushing as his brain processes - or at least tries to - what’s written on the little note. He quickly - yet carefully - folds it, puts it back in its original place, licks his lips once more - I wonder if he’s aware of how often he does that - and walks to the table. Our eyes lock and he smiles, in a slightly nervous - or is it excited? - way, taking his seat right across from mine.

Truth be told, Spencer’s known my number by heart for years now for I am my dad’s emergency contact. However, I was never the one to give it to him, just like he’s never been the one to call me. Hopefully, now that I’ve changed the former, the latter will also change.

[snyoonsu]

〚CONFIDENTIAL〛TRANSCRIPT OF CONSULTATION    subject: nam, yoonsu (elias)    d.o.b: 1995-jul-23

▷ hey doc! nice to meet you.

► it’s a pleasure to meet you too, mr. nam. thank you for coming in.

▷ ah, my apologies. i should have called you ‘doctor lim’ instead, huh? i fear using honorifics still trips me up from time to time

► whatever is most comfortable for you, mr. nam. 

▷ got it. well thanks... doc. you can call me whatever makes you comfortable too.

► thank you... shall we get started?

▷ sure. hit me.

EXCERPT A: INTRODUCTION

► great, let us begin. do you know why you’re here today?

▷ hmm, i couldn’t say for sure. but i’m open to therapy, i’ve always wanted to try. i mean i’m sure you know this already, but it’s all the trend nowadays. all my friends back in the states are doing it.

► well, this isn’t exactly a therapy session. therapists and psychiatrists aren’t quite one and the same. anyways, we’re really just hoping to get to know you a little better.

▷ aww cute. i’d love to get to know you better too. wait-- am i being recorded? audio or video? 

► oh, i’m sorry. yes, we are recording to ensure quality control. i believe it was in the disclaimer form you signed on your way in. is there an issue with that? i can assure you we take patient privacy very seriously here.

▷ *laughs* relax, doc. i’m kidding. believe me, i’ve got nothing to hide. and i trust you. you seem like a good enough guy. just saying if i knew there were going to be cameras, i could’ve dressed up a bit nicer for you.

EXCERPT B: CHILDHOOD AND UPBRINGING

► umm... alright mr. nam. how about you start by telling us a bit about yourself. where are you from? you mentioned you have ‘friends in the states’ just now.

▷ sure thing. i’m elias, eli, yoonsu — whichever you prefer. born and raised in new york city, but i was quite the jetsetter since an early age. i have family spread all over the world, from tokyo to paris to brazil, you name it. maybe you’ve heard, but us nams know how to get around... i’m kidding. 

► interesting. well how was growing up in new york city?

▷ new york is great. lots to do and lots to see. it’s arguably the center of the world, which is precisely the type of place i want to be in. and growing up was fine. let’s be real, my life wasn’t all that hard. i was naturally good at school, and puberty treated me well. money clearly was never an issue, and my parents thankfully were not around all that much. 

things just worked out for me pretty smoothly, and when i did get in trouble, i got out of it just as smoothly. i had a healthy corner of people who admired me, another that envied me, but all in all, my childhood was pretty vanilla. i suppose that’s a blessing, though kind of boring.

► ‘normality’ is not necessarily a bad thing. our society often has a tendency to seek out over-stimulation and take everyday things for granted. that being said, what might have you found most fulfilling then?

▷ hmm... maybe people? i realize this is douchey for me to say of myself... but people come very easily to me. i’ve never had issues making friends. hold on, someone just taught me this bit of korean slang the other day... ‘insider’? yeah, i think that’s it. i’m definitely one of those.

► ah, so friendship is something you highly value.

▷ sure, i suppose you could say that. key to a fulfilling life, right?

► do you have a best friend? what’s that person like?

▷ umm... yeah. well-- no. i mean, not no, but that’s like asking someone to... pick a favorite food or something. you can’t just pick.

EXCERPT C: RECENT WHEREABOUTS

► sure... that’s fair then. now what brings you to korea?

▷ *chuckles* well this ‘event,’ obviously. your friend, choi yong? or is he not your friend?

► yes, the chairman is a long-trusted partner of mine. sorry if i was unclear. i meant to ask about before the invitations were sent out. i believe you were in the country before then?

▷ not going to ask how you knew that... but yes, i’ve been here for the last year or so now. just by... circumstance. well not here here in seoul. down south where it’s far less exciting, in outskirts of daegu somewhere. interestingly enough, korea might be the one place i surprisingly haven’t spent all that much time in while growing up. only short-term visits here and there. but i enjoy seoul-- and am enjoying it now.

► well i’m glad to hear you’ve been enjoying your time in seoul so far. why daegu though? is there family there too?

▷ ehh, sort of. distant relatives or something, but they could’ve been paid actors for all i know. though if the goal was to make me as miserable as possible, my parents really found the perfect place and perfect folks to be suffocatingly plain and nosy. i’m sorry, that was sort of mean, wasn’t it? i mean, i’m sure they’re nice people. probably just another ‘cultural difference’ or something.

EXCERPT D: FAMILY RELATIONS

► no need to apologize to me. but let’s circle back on that bit you just mentioned. why would your parents would want you to be miserable?

▷ great question, doc. i ask myself that all the time. i’ll ring them up and you can ask them for me. maybe they’ll actually listen to you, since you’re a doctor.

► so you are still in contact with them? how is your relationship with your parents?

▷ *sigh* no, not really. 

► ...

▷ ... you good, doc?

► oh sorry. i was expecting that you would say more given that you’ve been... pretty chatty so far.

▷ i’ll take that as you complimenting my korean. much appreciated! but in all seriousness, i don’t have all that much to say about the parents. and if you’re curious whether i have daddy issues or anything, you can just go ahead and ask. i’m hard to offend. the answer is no, by the way.

► 'daddy issues’ is not a recognized psychological condition, mr. nam. grossly misrepresented in popular culture and neither what i’m asking nor implying of you. would there be any other ‘father problems’ you’ve been having though?

▷ oh, so you got jokes, doc. i like it. valiant effort, so you know what? i’ll tell you. the main issue is that i almost became a daddy. 

► i was actually asking about your relationship with your father... but that’s also interesting to know. is the episode you’re referring to a source of conflict between you and your parents?

▷ ah, i see. well it’s fine if you know. i don’t see anything wrong about a potential pregnancy with my girlfriend of all people. it’s a whole lot better than the other bullshit theories in the tabloids about what the hell is going on with me. 

let’s just say i think my parents’ decision to banish me to rural nothingness was very much uncalled for. forget the ‘responsibilities of parenthood.’ i bet they were just afraid i’d go get married to a ‘pleb’ or something. their words, not mine. evidently we have very different values, and that’s fine. but their retaliation towards me, my inheritance, my lifestyle, the whole shitshow around the abortion? absolutely ridiculous.

► understood. well are you interested in marriage or children? are these topics you’ve discussed with your girlfriend? 

▷ come on, now. you’re making me feel like i’m on a first date or something, asking me gushy questions like that... *clears throat* and she’s not my girlfriend anymore... so not relevant. how about you, doc? are you married or have children? if so, i hope you actually love them. and that they’re yours. *winks*

► ... yes, i am married. and i have two daughters who are both lovely... and mine? thank you for asking, yoonsu. perhaps we keep it to me asking the questions though. 

▷ sure, sure. again, i’m kidding. you don’t have to be so shy about warming up to me, doc. i’ll let you keep calling me yoonsu though, and you’re welcome to keep at it with your questions.

EXCERPT E: THE REVEAL

〚NOTE: TO FLAG FOR CHOI YONG FOR FUTHER INVESTIGATION〛

► now then... have you been taking any steps towards mending your relationship with your parents? 

▷ really, doc? we’re still talking about my parents? i’m starting to think they paid you off too. 

► of course not. i have no relation to your parents.

▷ great. so how about you ask me about me then. i promise i’m much more interesting. for example, you could try digging up some deep trauma or diagnose me with some rare condition. or try that face reading magic they do in korea instead. ‘gwansang,’ was it? tell me what my jawline says about my emotional stability.

► i’m sorry if i’ve angered you, mr. nam. first of all, i re-iterate that i’m a psychiatrist, and not a therapist, magician, or any of the above. more importantly, i’m not here to ‘diagnose’ you with anything. just trying to get to understand you more as a person. and for many people, it just so happens that the influence of their parents is a meaningful factor. there is no other hidden agenda here.

▷ oh we all have our hidden agendas, doc — i’m not that naive, though would love to be. and i’m not angry, doctor. *flashes grin* just a bit baffled you’re projecting this ‘freudian psychology’ pseudoscience bullshit on me. parents this, parents that. 

► ah, you are familiar with freud? i, along with many others in modern psychiatry are not the greatest fans, but there is often lost nuance in what people conceive to be freudian thought versus what is oversimplified. for example, even the oedipus complex--

▷ i’m really sorry to cut you off, doctor lim. but i don’t want to fuck my dad. i don’t need you to tell me otherwise.

► the oedipus complex actually refers to a desire that would be directed toward your mother. but to my earlier point--

▷ *sigh* does it really make a difference? can’t want to fuck my mom if i don’t know her.

► pardon? you don’t know your mother? was your mother not present much while you were growing up?

▷ ......

► mr. nam?

▷ *groans* of course i know who my mother is... who doesn’t? i think half of korea does too, no? yeah, she wasn’t around much is what i meant, okay? neither my dad nor my mom were around too much when i was young because they were too busy doing other more important things, like making money. more importantly now, how are we still talking about my parents?

► alright, mr. nam. we can move on soon.

▷ look. before we move on... for the record, doctor -- for whatever you’re recording of this. i... i believe i just misspoke. or didn’t understand your question properly. my korean can be pretty weak at times. and so i apologize for he confusion.

► *says to self* you used the phrase “freudian psychology pseudoscience” in a sentence two minutes ago...

▷ and? freud’s name in korean isn’t ‘freud’? are you trying to get petty with me, doctor lim? can we not? *boyish grin*

► sorry, mr. lim. i ought to be more professional. would it be helpful if we called in a translator? i can have one join us shortly.

▷ no. geez. *mutters string of expletives in english* let’s just... move on. please.

[my-emotional-self]

Sinful Love - Chapter 1

Moodboard by the beautiful @princess-evans-addict​

Pairings: Prisoner!Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Steve has lots of naughty thoughts, talk of murder, blood

Summary:  Gemma, a quiet and meek crime writer from a small town in Massachusetts, interviews murderer Steve Rogers in prison for a memoir.  Will things go terribly wrong, or beautifully right?

Authors Note: Credit for this fanfic goes 100% to punk-in-docs as this is is based off her Prisoner!Kylo Ren “Sinnerman”.  You can find her on Tumblr at punk-in-docs or on A03 - Punk_in_Docs .  I HIGHLY suggest taking a look at her stories as she is a beautiful writer!!!

P.S.  I am currently NOT doing a tag list at the moment so I am sorry about that. 

 She was cold; that much was for sure.  Gemma bounced her leg up and down as she was sat in the cold metal chair, waiting for her name to be called.  Her emerald green eyes scanned her surroundings as she pulled her ratty old cardigan closer to her body.  

Her eyes landed on the sign in front of her: Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center. Yes, she was sitting in the waiting room of a prison.  

This was her job, as a crime writer with her publishing firm.  She didn’t mind it.  She loved hearing how inmates have turned their lives around for the better and she still even wrote to some of the inmates she had interviewed in the past.

Gemma Peterson was someone that people didn’t really give a second glance to; and she liked it that way. Ever since she was as young as she could remember, she was always told by her mother and grandmother what a dreamer she was; how her creativity would get her somewhere one day.  And yet here she was, sitting in a prison and waiting to interview a murderer.  

She really couldn’t complain however as she loved her job.  She knew she wanted to be a writer her whole life; that’s what she got for growing up in the smaller community a half hour away from Boston, Massachusetts. It was well known for its literary history.  

As she continued to wait, her right hand came up to grip the locket around her neck; closing her eyes and thinking of her grandmother and mother.  She had never known her father as he was never a part of her life. “Wish me luck today,” she spoke under her breath, knowing her grandma and mom were always with her.  Her mother unfortunately passed away before her 17th birthday: a horrible car accident took her away from you.  

Gemma’s mother was her world and was always there for her.  After her untimely death, her grandmother picked up the pieces and helped her get through everything.  

“Peterson!  You’re up!” Her thoughts were pulled from her when she heard her name being called.  Looking up, she saw a short and round man with sweat stains under his armpits waiting for her near a door.  She knew it was the resident Psychiatrist, Dr. Kauffman,  with whom she talked to on the phone earlier in the week.  

Quickly standing up, she gathered her satchel which held her notebook, along with the prison inmate file on Steve Rogers, and briskly walked over to the man.  

He looked her up and down then shook his head.  “They are going to eat you alive kid,” he spoke with a shake of his head before turning away from her and walking down the long and narrow hall.  

Gemma scrunched her brows and looked down at her outfit.  She made sure to dress accordingly with what the psychiatrist said. She was wearing a knee length black dress and a green cardigan to cover her exposed arms; her hair was neatly tucked back into a ponytail and she wasn’t wearing any makeup.  A pair of black converse on her feet.  But her eyes widened when she realized she put perfume on that morning.  Silently, she scolded herself as the man in front of her walked through another set of doors and took a sharp turn to the left.  

Taking deep breaths, Gemma kept up pace with the doctor in front of her as they now reached the official area where the inmates were locked up.  

“Hey sexy bitch!” A man growled from her right.  “Get your sexy ass over her and let me take a good look at you!”  

Glancing to her right, she saw a tall man, at least six foot five with his hands clenched around the steel bars; his smile wide, showing off his yellow teeth.  

There was a guard walking behind you and he took his baton, smacking it against the steel bars, effectively shutting the inmate up.

After a few more twists and turns, Dr. Kauffman leads Gemma into what looks like the visitor room. There are rows of metal tables and chairs; the tables having locks in the middle of them so the prisoners can be chained down with their handcuffs.  

“Take a seat,” Dr. Kauffman states as he points to one of the tables.  The room was large, but there was nobody else there.  It was cold, cooler than the previous room she was waiting in and it smelt musty.  

Dr. Kauffman took a seat at the opposite side of the table as her, clasping his hands together.  “Look, I know you’re here to interview Rogers, but don’t be surprised if you don’t get any information out of him,” he stated. Gemma furrowed her brows in curiosity to what he said.  “There have been dozens of interviewers here over the years and Rogers doesn’t particularly care to give any kind of information to them.”  He got up from his seat, placing his hands on the table and leaning towards her. “And just so you know, this is the first time he has seen a woman in three years.”

Gemma gulped, but her throat was so dry, it didn’t do anything.  Why was she so nervous all of a sudden?  This was her job; she’s interviewed hundreds of people over the last handful of years, but she had never been quite this nervous before.  

“Are you wearing perfume?” Dr. Kauffman asked as he stood away, folding his arms over his chest.

Gemma blushed, nodding her head.  “Sorry. It’s a habit.  I’ll remember for next time.  Promise.”

Dr. Kauffman walked towards the steel beamed doors where there were two prisons guards waiting.  

As Gemma waited for him to grab Steve Rogers, she placed her notebook and inmate file in front of her on the table.  Opening the file, she still couldn’t believe that there was no picture of the inmate. When she had asked her boss about it, he merely shrugged.  She had the file for almost a week and had memorized everything inside of it.  

She read over the questions she had written in front of her as she waiting; her hands palms starting to sweat as her heart began to beat rapidly inside of her chest; anxiety and fear creeping over her.  

“You need to behave yourself and be nice Rogers,” one of the guards spoke.  

Another voice broke through Gemma’s thoughts; one of the sexiest voices she had ever heard. Looking up from her papers in front of her, she saw a tall, well built man, clad in an orange jumpsuit, wrists and ankles locked together with cuffs, entering the expansive room.  

He scoffed at the guard, a sly smile on his face.  “I don’t play well with others and you know that.”

Her heart nearly dropped to her stomach at the sight of him.  He had to be close to six feet tall.  His hair was a dark blonde, almost brunette and was longer at the top of his head while the sides were shorter.  His hair was combed backwards and he had a thick yet trimmed beard resting on his face.

The guard brought him closer to Gemma, stopping just in front of her.  He pulled the chair out for Steve to sit in and cuffed him to the table.  

“We’ll be just outside the door, so no funny business Rogers,” the guard spoke, pulling at his cuffs to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.  

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve bit back sarcastically.  

It took a moment for Steve to look over at Gemma and when she did, she wanted to simultaneously shrink down in her seat from her glare, yet get lost in his eyes forever.  They were the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life and she was mesmerized by them.  

Steve cleared his throat, making Gemma startle in her seat.   She tore her gaze from his eyes and noticed he had tattoos peeking out of the neck of his jumpsuit.  As she trailed her view from his neck, she also realized he had more black ink sticking out of sleeves of his orange garb and to his hands; wondering if his entire body was covered in the ink.  

Steve couldn’t help but take notice of the smaller woman sitting in front of him.  She was a mousy little thing, yet he could tell she was curvy underneath that drab old cardigan she was wearing.  Fuck, Steve hadn’t seen a woman in over three years and he wasn’t disappointed in this little Kitten sitting here.  He couldn’t help but notice when he startled her earlier, scaring her; it made his dick throb.

She wet her lips, grasping her notebook in her hands and looking over her questions yet again.  

Steve began to feel his temper rise under his skin, waiting for this little Kitten to speak.  Hell, at this point, he was beginning to think she was a damn mute.  

Gemma took a sip of water from her water bottle that was stashed away in her satchel; getting comfortable in her chair.  “Umm, I just wanted to say thank you for agreeing to meet and speak with me Mr. Rogers,” she spoke, her voice awfully quiet.  

His eyes narrowed at her as he leaned back in his chair, arms folding across his chest.  “Yeah yeah.  Let’s just get this over with.  I’m missing my yard time today for some journalist here.”

Gemma shuffles anxiously in her chair.  “Well, I’m not a journalist Mr. Rogers.  My name is Gemma Peterson and I’m a writer actually.  I work for a small publishing firm and they are interested in your story as a lifer in this prison.  They are actually doing a series on inmates and their personal memoirs and it will be published into a book of….”

Steve scoffed, cutting you off.  “Writer or journalist, you’re all the same. There’s no difference,” he mutters under his breath.  His eyes glance down to the manila folder that held his inmate information.  “From the looks of it, you’ve already read everything about me so you should know how I feel about journalists hounding me for questions about my life before prison and now.”  His voice was warning, yet a deep purr.  He leaned against the table, closer to Gemma, eyes pinning under his dark gaze.  

There was something about the fear that was ignited in Gemma, which also turned her on.  His eyes were piercing deep into her soul, mesmerized, yet terrified at the same time.  

Steve fought the urge to moan at the way she bit her lower lip, as if to stop herself from trembling; his cock jumping for attention under his orange jumpsuit.  She was modest, submissive even and he had to stop thinking dark thoughts about his hand around her throat as he fucked her raw.  When he was told about this interview, he assumed it would have been a balding fat man, not a shapely appetizing young woman.  

He was leaned over the table, as close as he could possible lean and inhaled deeply.  His nostrils were met with the most wondrous smell; some sort of flower he couldn’t quite figure out, but he wanted more of it.  He thanked whatever higher power out there for her perfume, her scent; it was a good distraction for his shitty fucking life in prison.  

Gemma took a shuddering breath as Steve leaned closer to her over the table; her eyes on his large hands clasped together.  

“Well go on then.  Ask your damn questions,” Steve urged, a hint of playfulness in his warning tone, making Gemma’s mind swirl with confusion.

“Umm, what..what more can you tell me about your conviction and what was it like?” She slowly glances back up at Steve, immediately regretting it.  His jaw was tight, tense.  

“Lengthy and tedious,” came Steve’s stiff answer.  

“And what about the trial?” she asks softly.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he glances down at his file and back up to her.  “Read the damn file.  It’s all in there.”

Usually she is poised during interviews, but Steve is throwing her off track with his demeanor. “Alright then,” she speaks, shifting in her chair.  “How has it been adjusting to life here in prison?”

“Agonizing,” he replies; his face deadpanned.  

“Umm,” she stumbled as she fumbled through her notes.  She could feel her cheeks begin to redden with mortification at her loss of thought. This was definitely not going the way she imagined.  Sure, she had never interviewed a prisoner before, but she had seen numerous crime shows and interviews online with prisoners and they acted anything but like Steve.  Her throat was beginning to dry up and reached for her bottle of water, taking a quick swig.  Not only was his behavior throwing her off, but he stature in general was terrifying. Here she was, sitting not only in front of a murderer, but a big man in and of itself.  His biceps were trying to break free from his jumpsuit and she could tell he was ripped and muscular underneath.  

Her eyes trailed up to his face; the veins in his neck starting to pop out.  “What do you want me to say huh?” he growled through his teeth. “You want me to sit here and talk about and describe in detail what killing and hurting those men felt like huh? How good it felt when I plunged the knife into their stomachs and slashed their throats?  Or how I watched one of them die a slow and painful death after cutting his femoral artery?  People don’t realize just how much blood the human body can hold, but I sure do Kitten and it’s quite a fucking lot of blood,” he explained.  

Gemma wanted to flinch at the pet name he gave her, but she kept her cool as best she could. Instead, she looked at him with her big emerald green innocent and scared eyes.  

Steve nearly came in his jumpsuit at the terrified way she was looking at him.  Fuck he would give anything to snap these chains off him, bend her over the table and slam his dick into her pussy.  He knew, just by looking at her, what a tight little cunt she had; and he wanted it.  

“Is that what you want to hear Kitten?  I think deep down you want to hear that I enjoyed killing those men.  Fuck, I’m glad I did it.  And no, I wouldn’t take it back if I had the chance to.  Sure, I’m fucking pissed to be locked in this miserable God forsaken place like a caged animal.  Having to be told when I can eat, sleep and taking a goddamn piss. But it is what it is,” he stated, shrugging  as if it was nothing.  

Gemma could do nothing but stare back at him.  Steve studied her, knowing he was wrong.  No, she was too sweet, too pure.  She wasn’t hard hearted like him.  He watches as she nervously chews on her lower lip.  

“What do you miss most from outside of this place?”

The question made him cock his head to the side in curiosity.  This petite, shapely five foot four librarian looking woman just astonished the five foot eleven murderer.  

“What?” Steve asked.  

“What do you miss about-“

“I heard the fucking question Kitten,” he growled.  

This time when he called her Kitten, she didn’t want to flinch.  Instead, she felt an oddly exciting tingle go down her spine; her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink.  Steve knew exactly what his pet name did to her as he slyly smirked.  

Steve stayed silent, not knowing how to answer that question.  Nobody ever asked him that question before in interviews.  

She remained quiet as well, her eyes fidgeting with her pen.  She had been told time and time again to not give any personal information about herself, but she couldn’t help just speaking up.  “I’d miss baking.”  Her voice was the softest she had ever spoken; Steve barely heard her.  

Her eyes flick back up to Steve as he sits back in his chair, getting comfortable.  His slicked back hair was now in the light of one of the few windows in the room and even though he used only prison shampoo, it looked so soft; she wanted to run her fingers through it.  

Since Steve wasn’t saying anything, she figured she would continue speaking.  “My grandma left me her house in her will when she passed. It’s quite small.  Just a two bedroom two bathroom house.  But it has a porch with a porch swing in the front and is full of hand me downs and small knick-knacks.  It’s warm and cozy and clean, and all mine,” she speaks.  “It’s all I have.  I don’t have any family left.  My entire life exists in that small house.   I grew up there my entire life.  I remember planting some lilac bushes when I was younger.  I love it every spring when they bloom, even if it’s not for very long.  My grandma and I planted a garden in the front of the house.  I try to keep up with the garden, but that was my grandma’s thing.  Plants and flowers.  Luckily the garden we planted when I was younger, doesn’t take much to upkeep. But baking is my passion. Cookies, brownies, pies and cakes. I make a lot of cakes for special events in my town.”

She couldn’t help but glance up at Steve and she couldn’t tell if her mind was playing tricks on her or not, but it looked like he was smirking.  

“Coffee,” was all he said, making Gemma nod her head.  But then he continued.  “Italian coffee to be exact.  Nothing added to it, dark as the ink on my skin.  The shit coffee they serve in here tastes like dirt.”  Gemma couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, the sound going straight to Steve’s dick, making him inwardly groan.  

The two of them sat there quietly, staring at one another.  

“Time’s up,” came the voice of one of the guards.  Gemma turned and saw two guards entering the room.  They stopped in front of Steve and unshackled him from the table.  Roughly, they jerked his hands away from the table and she wondered if his wrists were sore or hurt as she noticed how his skin was raised and red near the cuffs.  

“Come and see me again Kitten,” Steve spoke with a slight upturned grin to his lips.  

Gemma watched as the guards took him from the room.  She had never felt this way before she did today; terrified and fearful, yet oddly excited to see him again.  She had not planned on coming back here again, but when he called her that pet name yet again, she had made up her mind to visit him next week.  

[of-fishnets-and-black-lace]

True Love is a Lie pt. II

Request: Can I please have a part two to “True Love is a Lie”? The first one was so good! Can I have it where it’s been a couple of months and you’re dating Sam and Lucifer comes and asks you to take a walk through the woods while Sam and Dean follow behind, just in case, and you tell him that you’re pregnant with Sam’s child and can you name the child Diana from Wonder Woman and also include the young Diana Prince?

Read Part 1 here!

Word Count: 1892

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy, fluff, cursing, terrible writing, idk what else since it has been too long since I’ve read this, the format got messed up when i posted this from my google docs

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Past Lucifer x Reader

A/N: I’m baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. Shit has been so crazy the past few months/years but I’ve got my mojo back! It has been so long since I’ve done anything but I am hoping that with this pandemic I can finally post and write all the requests I have been getting, sequels to my other stories, as well as new stuff I’ve been working on. I am still not taking any requests until I have finished those in my inbox. I love you all and I am so happy to be writing again!

A year went by since your last heartwrenching encounter with Lucifer.  You nearly forgot about it because of your new life with Sam.  Sam always made sure to be attentive and by your side at a moment’s notice.  He made you trust in people again after your confrontation with Lucifer.  He knew after that experience you’d be broken, so he made sure to be there to mend the pieces.   

You did not want to dwell in the past and think yourself into a  depressive mood, especially with the Winchester boys and your new best friend, Jack, gone on a hunt.  You would’ve went with them had you not felt so nauseous and tired.  It was a typical salt-n-burn so you weren’t exactly missing out on anything important.  Nevertheless, Sam hated leaving you, especially with Lucifer still out there, but you were safe. 

Just as the thought of the moose enters your mind, your phone buzzes.

Sam: Hey baby girl, we’re on our way back.  Need anything?

You: Just some warm cuddles from my moose. 

You: Actually, I need oranges like right now. Not joking, I feel like I’ll die without oranges.

Sam: Is everything ok? You’ve never asked for oranges and I’ve never even seen you eat oranges since I’ve known you.

You: Yeah I’m fine, just a bit nauseous.  Also I’ve just been having a weird craving for oranges for some reason.  Oh well.

Sam: Hmm, I’m no doctor but maybe you should get checked out.  I worry about you, honey.

You: I know sweetie, but the doctor is expensive. It’s probably just the stomach flu or something.  Btw, how much longer?

Sam: Probably an hour, give or take 15 minutes.

You: Ok, Love you! See you soon!

Sam: Love you too! Can’t wait!

“Ok, so I have about an hour or so to check and see if my suspicions are correct.” You say aloud to yourself.

“What suspicions?” Cas suddenly appears out of nowhere, scaring you half to death.

“What the hell Cas?!” You all but screamed.

“Sorry, I thought you were praying to me.” Cas was never any good at lying to you.

“Umm, no I wasn’t just tell me why are you here?”

“I heard something on angel radio, and I needed to know if it is true.” He places a hand on your stomach.  “So it is true.”

“What? What is wrong with me?”

“(Y/N), your suspicions are right.  You’re six weeks pregnant.”

“How is that possible? Sam and I were so careful! What will he think or say? No, I can’t tell him. Not yet.”

With Sam and Dean still not home, you made Cas get a pregnancy test.  You trusted the angel’s words, but you needed concrete evidence.  You made Cas leave for a few days; you knew for sure that Cas wouldn’t be able to keep the secret.  The plus sign emerged with seconds to spare as Sam’s heavy footsteps could be heard approaching your shared room.

“(Y/N) I’m home!” Sam yelled as he collapsed onto the bed. You run out from the bathroom, pounce on him, and kiss all over his face.

“I missed you, Moose.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart.  I got the oranges you asked for.” 

“Thank you, baby…” You said as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Sam, have you ever thought about having kids?”

“Well yeah of course but… Isn’t it a little dangerous given our profession?”

“Yeah that’s true, but we’ve got out once, we can do it again.  Besides, I know I am safe when I’m with you and when I’m here in the bunker.”

“Enough with the chit chat, we have company.” Dean interrupts 

You and Sam follow Dean to the lighted table, sitting there was God himself, dressed oh so casually and a look of nervousness graced his face.  He twiddled his thumbs and a small smile made its way to his features as his eyes locked with yours.  

“Uh hehe, hey (Y/N), Sam, Dean, Jack.”

“What’s up, Chuck?” You said, holding onto Sam.

“Um, Lucifer asked me to tell you that he’s outside and would like to speak with you.” You grabbed onto Sam a little tighter.  

“I’ll talk to him, but I want Sam and Dean to stay close to me.  Jack should stay behind since it’s his father.”  

“He knows, he said that they could.”

You make your way outside and there he is, dressed in a nice suit and tie with a bouquet of (f/c) (f/f) in his right hand, but one thing was different: you couldn’t see his wings.  Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, but Sam gave a reassuring squeeze to your hand.  You began walking toward Lucifer, Sam and Dean close behind.  Lucifer handed you the bouquet of flowers and gave a quick peck to your knuckles.  This apparently didn’t sit well with Sam as he cleared his throat with anger. 

“Will you join me for a walk through the woods, (Y/N)?” Lucifer asked and you look to Sam and Dean. “Don’t worry, they can follow behind.”  

You all walk to the edge of the woods in silence, your heart beat faster with every step closer to the treeline.  Through your peripheral vision, you could see Sam clench and unclench his jaw.  He was just as nervous as you were, if not more so.  You and Lucifer finally enter the woods. Sam and Dean follow a minute behind to give you some form of privacy, while still able to barely make out your conversations.  

“First of all, I want to say I’m so sorry for what I did to you.  I should have asked for your permission and talked it through with you.” Lucifer says, breaking the silence.  

“It’s alright I guess. I did some research and I now understand that I would not have survived through labour.  However, that does not justify your actions, what you did really hurt me.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry.  I never meant to hurt my soulmate.”

“Soulmate?”

“Yes, you were my soulmate.  That’s why you were able to see my wings.”

“Then why can’t I see them now?”

“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about.”  There was a pained expression on his face, you’ve never seen the devil quite like this before.  “I had God make Sam your soulmate after what I had done to you.”

“This isn’t like you Lucifer, why would you do this?”

“I have to prove to you that I will always love you and do what’s best for you, even if it meant letting you go.” He sighed and placed a hand on your stomach. You could hear Dean hold Sam back as he spewed threats if Lucifer were to harm you.  

“Hurt the baby and I will not hesitate to pluck every feather from your wings.”

“I swear on my Father that I will protect yours and Sam’s child. It’s the least I could do to make up for everything.” He said as he kisses your forehead. “Name her Diana.” With that he disappears.

Sam finally breaks away from his brother and runs straight to you. He sees you place a hand protectively over your stomach and smile to it.The words of Lucifer finally make sense to him as he asks “You’re pregnant?”

You shake your head and smile, afraid to say anything.

“I am going to be a father!” Sam shouted with excitement as he picks you up and spins you around.  Tears of joy threaten to spill from both you and Sam as you lock eyes.  As he goes in for a kiss, you both are interrupted by Dean, yelling incoherently and excitedly about him being an uncle. You and Sam look at each other and giggle. It’s not a perfect family, but you can’t live without them.

Time Skip to Wedding Day (3 years later)

You look at your engagement ring then to your flower girl, Diana Prince Winchester, waddling down the aisle leaving flower petals in her wake.  She looked so adorable in her little white dress and you couldn’t help but to tear up.  The audience gasp and awe as they watch your daughter.

The wedding was surprisingly large for a pair of hunters.  Hordes of hunters (friends and some you’ve never seen before), the Winchesters’ monster “friends”, a few angels, and some family came from all over to see you two get married.  With God sponsoring your wedding, you expected something extravagant like a wedding at the Vatican. However, this was not the case.  The ceremony was held in a beautiful meadow that somehow matched your (f/c) wedding theme. The icing on top of the cake was Chuck himself officiating the wedding.  

The wedding march began and Gabriel walks you down the aisle.  Sam couldn't help but let a few tears slip as he watches his two beautiful girls in white.  Dean, the best man, elbows him slightly but he too couldn't help the tears.  Cas, Lucifer, and Jack all smile at you and then to Sam.  They know you two are perfect for each other.  You weren't phased by Sam asking Lucifer to be a groomsman. Besides, it was your idea to have him as Diana's godfather.  You finally reach the altar, and neither of you seem to care about the sniffling and hiccuping. You were finally marrying each other so let the waterworks happen. 

You were hardly paying attention until you hear Chuck say it's time to share your vows.  Sam clears his throat and begins: 

“Y/N, I've known you for as long as I can remember.  We've been fighting side by side since we were little and our dads would go on hunting trips together.  I would always tell myself, that one way or another I will marry this girl and protect her from any and every monsters.  You may have not been my soulmate then, but you are my soulmate now. And as your soulmate, I'm never letting you go.” There was a slight pause and an awkward cough from Lucifer. “I will love you until the end of time.” 

He slips the ring on your finger as you begin:  “I’d never thought I would be standing here with the infamous Sam Winchester, yet here I am with a ring on my finger.  You were my first best friend and my first crush and my first protector.  you’ve saved me from being broken in more ways than one, and for that I owe you my life.  While it is true we were not soulmates before, we are soulmates now and that’s all that matters.  I will love you forever until the end of time.” 

After the expression of the “I Dos,” you hear the words you’ve been dying to hear since you made it to the altar: “You may kiss the bride.” Sam grabs you by the waste and pulls you to him.  With the passion of a thousand suns, he kisses you and everything melts away.  It was just like the first time you two kissed.  

In the back of your mind, you could hear Lucifer whisper “I will always love you” but that didn’t matter to you anymore. You are Sam’s and he is yours.  Nothing will change that.

[ruiyuki-archives]

Star Tear AU - Momo ver.

This is an AU I wrote on the todomomo discord server eons ago. Anything posted to this blog will be transcripts of old original work and not really edited, save for formatting. I have no guarantees if I will ever finish these AUs either so these will only be kept as an archive.

Original transcript posted to tdmm discord: Aug 2020

Momo ver. Alternate timeline: Todo ver. Part 1 || Todo ver. Part 2 || Todo ver. Part 3

ALRIGHT YALL NEW TROPE ALERT ➡ STAR TEAR DISEASE

Basically the cousin of Hanahaki Disease. Unrequited love causes a person to cry star tears accompanied by the sound of twinkling and if the feelings are not returned said person goes colour blind

And I just !!!!

tdmm AU where Momo gets star tear disease and the first time she cries in front of Todo after the exam with Aizawa she cries star tears???

And she doesn’t know what it means and neither does Todo but maybe Aizawa does and recognizes what it means but idk

So Momo goes on this whole literary quest to research what it means. And Todo volunteers to help bc umm?? Even the pressure point in her foot doesnt stop this phenomenon so he wants to figure it out too

And along the way they dig through the UA library on study dates and dig through the bookstores and dig through the interwebs together

Spending more and more time together, Momo starts to realize she’s feeling something. that is until one night she finds it on the web what star tears mean

Its her unrequited love for Todoroki

And her realizing this just makes it w or s e

Bc the consequence of not having her feelings returned means she goes colour blind

Or you know what, im just gonna alter it and make it more angst. She goes fully blind, ya lets do that.

SO MOMO

Poor bby is grappling with this realization and coming to terms with it all on her own; recognizing that if she doesnt let Todo know after all this time spent together she’s come to love him....... she'll go blind

But ofc its Momo... poor bby selfless Momo....

Her feelings and her own and not a responsibility of Todo to like her back and cure her of this disease so there is NO WAY she’s gonna burden him with that

Plus they’re both too busy tryna be heroes and shouldn’t have this as a distraction

So ofc Momo's not gonna tell Todo

And she cries and cries even more star tears that twinkle in fill her room in the dark like galaxies in the sky.

Its really beautiful.

She'll accept that she'll go blind never to see the face of her loved ones again. Her parents. Her friends....... Todoroki.

And that potentially she might have to give up her dream of being a hero if the blindness compromises it.

But she'll accept that.

The next day she wakes up and cant see a colour

And slowly it begins.......

She loses green first. Its hard to distinguish green from yellow

Then yellow goes

Then orange

Then one by one colour fades over weeks and weeks

Ofc shes not telling anyone.

She fakes it in class, during hero training, during her internship

That when Ochako and Hagakure asks "isnt the colour dress cute?" holding up a lovely chartreus and gold dress, she lies and says yes even though she sees gray

Which breaks her even more

And so she cries alone at night some more star tears

And it keeps going

All the while Todo noticing from beside his desk......

something is off...

But he doesnt ask her. Not yet.

Because after weeks of spending time with her researching, he believes they’re close enough that she'll share with him what’s going on

He didnt question it when she told him "its ok Todoroki san, we can stop researching"

"Did you figure it out?"

"Yes. Its nothing to be concerned about anymore"

He doesnt question it when he notices her in the morning at breakfast,,, the little speckles of star dust glimmering at the corner of her eyes

And he doesnt question himself either when he starts to think the twinkling tears she cries when she thinks she is alone,, makes her look really beautiful

Its those some odd moments when he passes the classrooms on the way back to the dorms at sunset that he sees her alone by the window,, looking out,, as the sun paints the sky reds pinks yellows and oranges,,, that she stares out and star tears fall from her eyes, twinkling in the setting light

And he thinks to himself that she is really beautiful,, a shadow against the setting sun

So he watches and thinks some more

That shes beautiful even without the sunset. Beautiful in class answering the hardest question. Beautiful in battle when her tactics win over her opponent. Beautiful studying when he notices her little motions when shes concentrating.

But while Todo thinks that to himself, Momo cries. Little star tears in her eyes.

She cant see the sunset anymore.

.

.

.

He doesnt think its serious when she tells him to disregard the matter

But when he happens to run into her when visiting his mom at the hospital, and she’s on her way out from the optometry & ophthamology department to get this whole eye thing checked out, thats when he realizes

Oh. This is serious.

And he starts trying to get her to talk but she’s being all avoidy and tight lipped

Cuz from Momo’s doctors’ appointment, the doc told her there’s no cure unless she gets over the feelings herself or her feelings are returned

And really now, she still thinks its her burden to bare not his

So logically the only thing she thinks she can do to slow down the blindness from the tears is to shut down her feelings for him. Put them in a box. And become cold.

Todoroki hates that.

That she’s being avoidant and cold when he knows something is wrong and wants to help her but she is being so not Momo anymore

He wants the kind, loving, selfless, pure hearted, strong Momo he's grown to learn and respect and know back

And that’s when he realizes he really cares for her

Not just admiring her beauty. Or respecting her battle instincts and leadership

That he realizes he really likes her

Perhaps even loves her.

So thats that.

Until its mission time.

Cuz its not angst until someone gets hurt and the other realizes they’ve been keeping a secret all this time sooooooooo

Smth smth UA kids vs a new baddie or minor villian or idk it could be dabi for all i want bc i put dabi in everything lmaooo

But who they’re fighting is not important

The important part is tdmm are on the same team

Maybe deployed as partners even

And theyre fighting back to back against some grunts

And at this point Todo is frustrated he’s not getting through to Momo just after he shook his own world realizing he likes her

And Momo's being all cold but civil and she is completely colour blind.

Theres no undoing the damage in her eyes. She can see in muted muddy tones and grayscale.

So for plot convenience lets say the villain has some kinda colour distortion quirk that mixes up the perception of colour from the true colour in a form of illusion or smth idk

So when the grunts in all black uniform end up attacking them, to Todo and Momo, one looks dressed in red, another in green, others in blues yellows purples

tdmm do pretty well fending them off until Todo notices 3 of them in blue green and purple about to attack Momo at once

And she’s ready to fend them off but doesnt notice a 4th one in red coming in for a swift sneak atttack right behind the green one

But Todo does notice

And he shouts

"YAOYOROZU THE RED ONE"

But she cant tell

And the knife lands deep in her shoulder

And Todo burns the rest to a crisp

You can imagine what the conversation is in the aftermath, when Momo has her shoulder bandaged up and Todo tending his own wounds

"Yaoyorozu.. please be honest with me. Why didnt you avoid the red one when I shouted?"

Because, he knows, that the heroine Creati he's trained along side with for so long would have been able to anticipate the grunts assault

That she would have expected a sneak attack amidst a simultaneous attack

But the fact that she didnt. Couldnt. Avoid it definitely means shes been handicapped

And Momo, upon being asked, hurt and tired from their battle finally relents

She cant lie to him any longer.

"It was because... i couldnt tell. I couldnt distinguish their colours. I havent been able to for a few weeks now.... I've..."

A star tear falls from her eyes.

"I've lost my colour vision Todoroki-san"

Tiny galaxies fall from her eyes as she finally explains to him what these tears are

And Todo is speechless as she talks, only able to hear the twinkles against her words broken against sniffles and hiccups

And when sh’es said all she knows - that this is a disease that will turn her blind, that there is no cure and it comes as a consequence of loving someone who doesnt love you back, that she doesnt want to burden the person she loves with her responsibility, that she has been trying bury her feelings to save herself ...

He finally asks: "Who is it.  Tell me who it is that you love Yaoyorozu"

.

.

.

.

"You. Its you Todoroki-san"

And his heart broke.

He pulls her into a hug,, so tight she thinks she might be crushed

And its his turn to cry against her

Because all this time she was doing this for him

"Im sorry Momo. Im so sorry. You dont have to suffer alone anymore. Because we're partners, long before I even realized it"

"Eh?"

He looks into her eyes, unwavering

"Im in love you too."

The tears that fall from her next are no long starlight.

Epilogue/trivia:

Momo loses her colour vision following the colour wheel starting with green ➡ yellow, orange, red, etc until blue is last to go

Shes most heartbroken about losing red and blue cuz those are the colours she associates with Todo (when she cant see the sunset anymore its when she realizes she lost red and that’s why she’s crying)

Since the damage of the disease cant be restored, she has to deal with greyscale vision for some years

Eventually Eri rewinds it for her once Eri can control her power

but for those some years Momo is so busy!! cuz she goes into genius mode and starts creating (and probably working with Hatsume) vision impairment accessibility tools? Yes

and bc I have an unhealthy obsession with the todofam, Natsuo probably ends up getting a case of the disease for some odd reason if he ever broke up with his gf and Todo upon hearing it is like NO GO TELL HER PLS

He’s not gonna let anyone else on the other end feel the guilt that he did for Momo

> archives masterpost

[iamthegaysmurf]

“The power when out. It’s not the end of the world.”

Okay, so. First of all, I want to apologize for how long you’ve been waiting, @darienplays6688.  I hope the payoff is worth it.

And second…  this thing severely got away from me.  It is by no means a “quick, short prompt fill.”  I’ve put it under a cut, because it ended up so long.  Sorry, guys.

———-

Set a week after the events of 3x06, a day (and a half) before the beginning of 3x07.

———-

It’s hard to be festive in a town like Purgatory.  Even the name suggests that happiness willalways be just out of reach.

Ringing in the new year doesn’t really feel like somethingworth celebrating.  Not with Dolls goneand Alice hidden away and Nedley going off the rails.  And they haven’t heard from Doc in a fullweek, ever since he walked out on their Christmas dinner.

Jeremy has been spending more time than usual in the BlackBadge office now that Bulshar and his beekeeper oompa loompas have been forcedto relocate his Murder Tree Factory after Robin was rescued and brought safelyback home.  Nicole can tell that he’sholding Robin at arm’s length now, despite how obvious it is he’d rather be in those arms, because he’s afraid toget another innocent person dragged into their perpetual shitstorm.

Mama spends her time flitting around the homestead with abig smile on her face, but it doesn’t reach her eyes and makes her look moresuspicious than Marshal Dolls had when he first moved to town.  The Earp sisters are too blind to see it, toocaught up in the belief that they might finally be putting their family backtogether one piece at a time, but Nicole has always been exceptional at readingpeople, and Michelle is throwing up red flags quicker than a matador in thePlaza de Toros.  

She’s hiding something. Something big.  Nicole just hasn’t been able to figure out what yet.  She’s also not doing a very good job ofhiding the restlessness that’s rippling just beneath the surface, either.  Nicole has seen it far too many times not torecognize the symptoms.  She’s getting readyto run, and Nicole can only hope that the inevitable fallout doesn’t break hergirls beyond Nicole’s ability to repair them.

Nicole will be starting on the campaign trail as soon as theholiday is over, and she really should be working on posters and buttons andspeeches full of promises that this cursed town will probably never let her actuallykeep.  Her appointment to Sheriff isn’tofficial yet, and she doesn’t want to leave anything to chance.

And Wynonna…  Well,Wynonna’s idea of a New Year’s Resolution is to never let her blood alcohollevel drop below the legal limit.  She’drather be holed up in the barn with her whiskey and self-loathing, ruminatingon all the ways she continues to fail the people she loves.

But Waverly had insisted on a party.

And no one in this god-forsaken town knows how to tellWaverly Earp no.

So here they all are, awkwardly gathered at the homestead,with a bowl of well-spiked punch and platters full of snacks and ridiculousparty hats and poppers and steamers hanging from every conceivablesurface.  Waverly’s newest pop obsessionrings out through the speakers, making Nicole cringe a bit, but at leastfeeling the bass line thumping in her chest helps to ward off the chill thathangs in the air from the blizzard that’s raging outside, whitewashing thedarkness and drowning out the moonlight.

Things are going fine.

Mostly.

As fine as anything can really be in a powderkeg of asituation.  

Wynonna’s drinking and above-average irritability,presumably owing to Doc… and something elseshe seems to be keeping under her hat – or more likely, in her pants – thesedays.  Mama’s thinly-veiled sarcasm aboutevery positive thing this group is desperately trying to hang on to, especiallywhen it comes to Nicole’s place among them, and now also her sideways glancesat the two newest additions.

Robin’s strange fascination with the Christmas tree and allof its trimmings that are still up from a week ago, particularly the pine conegarland, which Nicole is nearly certain she saw him pluck several seed scalesfrom, followed by a loud crunching sound that didn’t fit with any of the snacksWaverly had set out on the food table. Jeremy’s nervous energy, more obvious than usual, mostly directed athaving Robin present, but also with a wary eye constantly on the enormous,sticky snowflakes painting wet streaks against the outside of the frostedwindows.

Things are fine.

Until they aren’t.

The faint click that always signals the sudden halt ofelectricity through the lines might as well be a gunshot with the way it echoesaround the enclosed space of the homestead. An eerie silence immediately follows, a stark contrast to Waverly’smusic pouring through the speakers, and even the constant hum of the house –like a heartbeat proving that it’s alive– leaves behind a warped void that temporarily swallows all of the sound aroundthem.

It’s disconcerting, in a liminal space sort of way.  

The few short seconds of silence stretch for an inordinateamount of time – like a rubber band pushing the limits of its threshold – beforesnapping violently back into place.

Waverly and Robin groan with disappointment in the suddendarkness.  Mama makes a disgusted noisedeep in her throat, and Nicole can picture the way she’s rolling her eyes,despite there being no light.

Wynonna puts together a string of obscenities that’s farmore impressive than any of the strings of festive banners Waverly had hung around the room.

But the worst of it comes from Jeremy.

His voice is sheer panic as he begins to rambleincoherently, and Nicole tracks his movement in the darkness, following theloud shuffling of his frantic pacing.  

“Jesus fuck, Dr. Voldemort. The power went out.  It’s not theend of the world.”

“Wynonna,” Waverlyscolds.  It’s immediately followed by asoft thump and a loud hiss, which was almost certainly an elbow to theribs.  “And also,” Waverly addsmatter-of-factly, unable to help herself. “Voldemort wasn’t a doctor.  Hewas a dark wi—”

“Waverly…” Nicole cuts in gently.  She waits a beat in the darkness.  “Time and place…”

“Right, right.”  Shefeels soft fingers trail down the skin of her forearm beneath the cuff of her sleeve, resting snugly at her elbow.  “Sorry,”Waverly says sheepishly.

Nicole feels Robin shifting beside her, making a move towardthe rapidly-spiraling Jeremy, but she reaches out and stops him with a hand tothe shoulder.

“Why don’t you help Waverly find some candles and get a firestarted in the fireplace.”  She squeezeshis shoulder gently.  “I’ve got this.”

“Uhh…  yeah.  Yeah, okay.” She can tell he’s concerned, but she feels him relax slightly under hergrip.  “Thanks, Officer Haught.  Umm…  Imean Sheriff Haught.”

“Nicole will be fine,” she says, smiling into thedarkness.  With one final squeeze of hisshoulder, she nudges him toward the kitchen, where she can already hear Waverlyrummaging through drawers to find the matches.

Turning toward Jeremy, Nicole approaches him slowly,muttering a curse under her breath when she bangs her shin against the coffeetable she’d misjudged.  He’s fidgeting withhis phone, his face lit up like a child telling ghost stories around acampfire, but his hands are shaking too much for him to successfully find theflashlight app.  He’s still mumbling, tooquick and too low for Nicole to actually make any of it out, but she has apretty good idea what this is about.

“Jeremy…” she calls softly, not wanting to startle him.  He doesn’t respond, continuing to pace infront of her.  She reaches out to catchhis elbow as he passes, carefully leading him away from the rest of thegroup, over to the stairs, where they can sit without worrying about knockingthings over.

Nicole can feel his entire body vibrating, and she leans alittle closer, so that her shoulder and arm and leg press reassuringly againsthis side.  He lets his face fall into hishands, his phone forgotten, still ignoring all attempts Nicole makes at tryingto break through to him.

“Do you still get the nightmares?” she finally asks, and hegoes rigid next to her.

“How…”  His head snapsup and whips around to face her.  Waverlyhas a few candles lit on the food table now, and Robin has managed the beginningsof a fire, glowing softly in the hearth. Nicole watches the faint glint of Jeremy’s eyes dart around the roomnervously.  “How do you know about that?”

“I get them, too,” she says so low that only Jeremy can hearas she reaches out to take his hand in hers. It’s cold and clammy, and she feels the warmth of her own hand slowlystart to seep into his skin.  

“You…  You do?”  She can see the shadow of his Adam’s applebob in the flickering light as he swallows thickly.

“Of course,” she admits plainly.  “It’s always worst when the darkness comes.”

“Is it…”  He shiftsuncomfortably, but doesn’t make a move to withdraw his hand from hers.  “Is it that night… in the forest?” he finallyasks.

“Yeah,” Nicole breathes, her own head hanging slightly asher shoulders slump forward a little to mirror his position.  “I had them for years when I wasyounger.  They finally went away when Iwas in high school.”  She looks away fromhim for a moment, fighting the burn behind her eyes.  “But ever since the…  the…” She looks back at him, shrugging one of her shoulders.  “Well,” she says gruffly.  “They’re back now.”

Jeremy nods, uncharacteristically quiet in the moment.  The house around them is still silent, savefor the soft hissing and popping of the fire Robin continues to stoke, and themuttered grumbling coming from Wynonna’s corner.  Nicole can tell Waverly is runninginterference for the two of them over here on the steps, and her gratefulnessfor that causes a faint warmth to bloom in her chest, welcome against the coldmemories of the massacre in the woods just over twenty years ago.

“It started with a blizzard like this,” Jeremy finally says,breaking the silence unexpectedly.  Nicolepulls herself away from the images of the man dressed in black leathers, hismanic smile glinting in the moonlight while she shivered, alone, beneath anearby canoe.  Her vision swims for amoment, but then comes into focus on the hard lines set deeply into Jeremy’sforehead.

“Your accident?” she prompts gently when he fails tocontinue.  

“Yeah,” he nods.  “Mymom…”  His voice trembles every bit as muchas his hand does where it still rests in Nicole’s.

She gives him a minute to collect himself, letting him drawstrength from her presence and her patience.

“I was eleven,” he eventually says after clearing his throatroughly.  “It was snowing out – it hadbeen for most of the week – but we were supposed to go to this stupid awardsbanquet…”  His voice cracks, and he dropshis head into his free hand, his entire body shuddering.

“Hey,” Nicole soothes, bringing her other hand up and usingboth of them to squeeze Jeremy’s hand tightly. “It wasn’t your fault, Jeremy.”

“It was,” he snapssharply.  He moves to pull away, but shedoesn’t let him.

“It wasn’t,” she says again, firmly.  “You were just a kid.  It wasn’t your fault.”

He collapses against her and begins to sob.  Nicole finally lets his hand go, only to wrapher arms around his shoulders.  They staylike that for several minutes, until his breathing evens back out and he pullsaway enough to sit upright again.  Heleaves his head resting on her shoulder, though.

“We went off the road,” he finally manages through a sniffle.  “We went off the road, and the snow was sobad, it took them three days to find us.”

“Three days?”  Nicole’seyes go wide, and she’s unable to keep the shock out of her voice.

“Yeah,” he says, still not looking at her.  “I was trapped in there with her for threedays.  The snow drifts covered the windowsand everything.  It was…”  He clears his throat again, but his nextwords still come out as a whisper anyway. “Everything was so dark.”

“I’m so sorry, Jeremy,” Nicole murmurs, wrapping her arm alittle tighter around his shoulders and pulling him closer into his side.

“Storms like this… They make me kinda…”  He flaps hishands around dramatically.  “Antsy.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he snorts loudly.

“Well.  More antsythan usual, anyway.”

Nicole can’t help but chuckle at that, too, but he sobers upagain quickly and she follows his lead.

“How do you, uh…”  Hefinally glances up at her.  “Y-youknow.  Deal with the nightmares?”

“To be completely honest,” she sighs, “it’s more like thenightmares deal with me.”

“Oh.”  Jeremy frowns,and Nicole’s eyes flick toward Waverly for a moment before looking back at himagain.

“But the main thing is…” Her eyes soften a little, just like they always do when she talks aboutWaverly.  “The main thing is knowing thatI don’t have to face them alone anymore.”

“Oh.”  Jeremy’s browfurrows for a moment.  He glances over atRobin and then back toward Nicole, and his cheeks flush red in thefirelight.  “Oh.”

Nicole chuckles again.

“I didn’t just mean it like that,” she says, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Oh,” Jeremy says again, like it’s the only word he knowsright now.  “Good.  Because we haven’t… uh… you know…”  His hands are flailing around again.

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Nicole says, shaking herhead before he can make things any more awkward.

“S-sorry,” he stutters, and she thinks he might be wishingfor Wynonna to put a bullet between his eyes with Peacemaker so that the floorwould swallow him whole.

“No, it’s fine,” she says quickly.  “Just. Um…  What I meant was…  Now that I have you guys,” she gesturesaround the room, “a family… I knowthat I’m not alone like I was when I was a kid.”

Jeremy raises a skeptical eyebrow at Wynonna, who seems tobe having and honest to god argument with the weather through the window rightnow.

“And you aren’t, either,” Nicole says, getting his attentionas she squeezes his shoulder again.  “Alone,I mean.  You have us now.  All of us.” She eyes Wynonna for a moment.  “Eventhe crazy drunk ones,” she mutters.

“You really think so?” Jeremy asks, sounding somewherebetween hopeful and skeptical.

“I know so,” Nicole answers without hesitation.  “You remember that fire we talked about?” sheasks, tapping her finger to her chest, over her heart.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, the hint of a grin tugging at thecorners of his mouth.  He flattens hispalm against his own chest.

“Don’t forget about it,” Nicole says seriously.  “Remember that you’re as much a part of our fireas we are a part of yours.”

He nods his head vigorously, unable to fight the grin anylonger.  

Nicole glances over to where Robin is still hovering nearthe fireplace.  He’s pacing slowly,keeping an eye on the stairs, but maintaining a respectable distance, notwanting to intrude.  She catches his eyeand he stops moving, tilting his head slightly. She smiles and nods at him subtly, and she can see his entire body relaxat the gesture.

“Well,” she says, turning back to Jeremy.  “It’s probably pretty close to midnight.  You should go and get your guy.  I think he’s waiting for you.”

Jeremy turns to look at Robin and gives him a little wavebefore looking back at Nicole.

“My guy…” he whispers, his eyes glazing over dreamily.  “He’s myguy.”

“Yes,” Nicole laughs. “He is.”

Jeremy pushes himself up off the stairs, still a littleshaky, and nearly trips over his own feet during his first steps towardRobin.  He stops and leans against therailing, gathering himself for a moment. Before taking another step, he looks back over at Nicole, opening andclosing his mouth a few times, though nothing actually comes out.

Nicole reaches up and pats his hand.  She nods at him once, and watches the airrush out of his lungs.  He pauses for afew more seconds before he finally finds his breath again.

“Nicole…  Thanks,” isall he manages to say, but it’s enough.

“Any time,” she smiles back. “Just remember,” she adds, tapping her chest again, “you’re not alone.”

He mirrors her movement, like he’s making a pledge, and thenhe turns in a hurry and shuffles over to Robin, who greats him by holding outone of his arms for Jeremy to slip under so that he can tuck himself into Robin’sside.  Nicole watches them quietly for afew minutes until she feels Waverly approaching from her other side.

“Hey, baby,” she says, letting Waverly’s proximity chase thelast of the darkness from her own head.

“You’re amazing,” Waverly says, plopping down on the stepnext to Nicole.

Nicole quirks a surprised eyebrow at her.

“You are,” Waverly says, grabbing Nicole’s hand and playingwith her fingers.  “What you just did forhim?  You’re amazing.”

She feels the heat rising in her cheeks and ducks her head.

“We just…”  Sheglances up at Waverly.  “I get it.  What he’s going through.  Sort of…”

“I know you do, baby.” Waverly leans in and kisses Nicole lightly on the cheek.  “I’m glad he has someone like you that he can talkto about it.”

Nicole takes a minute to survey the room.  Robin and Jeremy have settled on the floor bythe fireplace, leaning back against the couch. Mama and Wynonna are huddled in the opposite corner, and though it givesNicole a slightly uneasy feeling, she decides not to dwell on it tonight.  She and Waverly have a rare moment ofprivacy, and she takes advantage of it, reaching out to tip Waverly’s chin upuntil she can kiss her properly for the first time in several hours.

“Alright, mothers and fuckers,” Wynonna yells suddenly, andNicole groans at her uncanny ability to interrupt.  “We’re on the final countdown to midnight,and then I get to make out with this whiskey bottle like it’s 1999.”

Wynonna watches the seconds tick down on her phone, and theyall join in on the countdown.  EvenMama.  

True to her word, Wynonna shoves her tongue as far into thebottle as she can get it, but Nicole ignores her, finding Waverly’s lips andallowing herself to get lost in the moment, despite the amount of hecklingcoming from the peanut gallery.

“Well,” Mama finally says, clearing her throat loudly.  “There’s no way anyone is leaving in thisstorm, so it looks like we’re having a sleepover.”  Her voice is tight, and Nicole takes a small amount of pleasure from her discomfort.  “I’m sure y’all know where the blankets are inthis house better than I do.”

“Yeah.  And the wallsare stupid thin,” Wynonna grumbles, glaring directly at Waverly andNicole.  “So if me and Mr. Jack Danielshear anything that will scar us for life, coming from any of you…”  She swings thebottle around, pointing it at both couples. “Then I will make sure it’s yourshoes I vomit in.  Capiche?”

“Goodnight,Wynonna,” Waverly says, rolling her eyes and dragging Nicole up the stairs.

Maybe things will be fine after all.

[freshlyjuicedbeetles]

Under Her Wing - Drakgo fic

Shego is instructed by Dr. Director to teach Kim a thing or two. Set after Graduation but in 2019 verse. 

TAG LIST (based on who interacted with my tag list post. If you were added by mistake or not added at all, please let me know!)

@sweet-or-sarcastic // @anavrp // @sophiecooper18 // @random-emerald-thoughts // @benjimators // @marvelousavengfulslytherin // @littlevirago // @evielovesfood // @dianenguyenbjh // @brianaisontheinterwebs // @saultnpeppah // @poisonivy123

Shego sat bored with her legs kicked up on the lab table as she watched her husband meticulously extract DNA from the toe of a Spinosaurus. For what he was going to use it for, she wasn’t entirely sure. She was just there to make sure he didn’t blow himself up. She was just his bodyguard/sidekick/liaison/mostly unwilling secretary, not his science partner. This was a guy who looked up to Doc Brown rather than Hawking.

Her phone buzzed in the pouch strapped to her leg. Things were slow that day, so she decided to take a peek. It was an email from Facebook saying she had a message on her old public profile, one she had not used since she was a hero with her brothers. Her curiosity piqued, she opened Facebook and signed out of her current, private account. She tapped the side of her phone as she tried to remember her old password.  After a few tries, she got in.

Her inbox with inundated with old and recent messages. She paid no attention to past messages from fans who were upset that she turned evil, edgelords who were threatened by a strong woman, and recent messages that praised her from turning her life around. The first message was just too shocking. It was from Kimberly Ann Possible. It read:

“Umm, hi Shego. This is Kim Possible. I don’t know if you even check this profile anymore. Dr. Director wanted me to get in contact with you, but she didn’t really tell me how lol. She wanted me to ask if you could do some training with me?”

“NO!” Shego yelled, standing straight up, her phone creaking in her grasp.

Drakken flinched, “You made me break the helix!” He whined.

“Dr. Director wants me to train Kim Possible.”

“Eww,” Drakken grimaced.

“I’m not doing this. I’m not some babysitter.” Shego exclaimed as she stormed off for Dr. Director’s office.

“Go get her, babe,” Drakken said, his mind more focused on his work.

Shego breezed past the security and barged into Director’s office, stunning the guards with her plasma. The burly men crumpled to the floor in a twitching heap.

“Ah, Mrs. Lipsky, I was wondering when you’d force yourself in here again and maim Ethan and Reid.” Director replied calmly, only glancing up at the scene “Was it last week you came in here like a bull in a china shop because we switched your husband’s lab time or was it the time before that?”

“I am not working with Kim Possible.” Shego seethed, leaning over Director’s desk and staring straight at the other woman. Director did not look up from her paperwork. Shego slammed her hands down, causing a hairline crack to form between the women.

“Did I ask?” Dr. Director countered.

Shego scoffed. “You know, this isn’t working for me. I think I’m done here.” She said as she threw her ID badge on Director’s desk and turned to walk out.

“So, you’ll give up all the comfort we’ve given you and your husband? Your home, your records totally expunged, his lab and all the resources he could ever want or need? You two are a ‘package deal’ as I believe your very own agreement states? If you leave, so does he.”

Shego stopped in her tracks.

She wouldn’t take that away from Drew. Not when he was getting the recognition he always wanted.

She turned on her heel. “I’m only staying because I haven’t gotten to use the bazooka yet.” She said through gritted teeth, pointing menacingly at Director.

“She’ll be on your doorstep at 8:15 tomorrow morning.” Dr. Director said as she threw Shego her ID badge to her.

~*~

Kim Possible didn’t get nervous about many things. She took down villains before she could even vote without a trace of fear. Today, as she drove to the address Dr. Director gave her last night, Kim Possible was nervous.

Secretly, Kim idolized Shego when she was younger. She remembered seeing Shego and her brothers on TV and followed her dutifully on what little social media existed back then. When Shego left Team Go, Kim was heartbroken, and her stomach dropped the first time she saw Shego working with Drakken. When Team Go broke up, Kim decided to take up Shego’s mantle when the opportunity presented itself. Now that Drakken and Shego went good or more likely, neutral, maybe she and Shego could be friends in the future? Kim still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that she was going to be trained by Shego because it was Shego the hero Kim looked up to for many years and it was Shego her sworn enemy at one point.

Regardless of it all, Kim knew today would be interesting.

~*~

Meanwhile, Drakken took sleeping seriously. It’s where he got most of his ideas. When the doorbell rang at 8:00, he was not a happy camper. He groaned like a wounded animal, not even noticing Shego’s absence in bed. He haphazardly threw on a robe and stumbled down the stairs and opened the front door.

“I’ll take three Thin Mints, two Samoas and three Tagalongs,” Drakken said, yawning, handing what he thought was a fifty-dollar bill. It was really dog treats and lint.

“Um, no,” Kim said sheepishly, gently pushing his hand away. “It’s Kim…Possible? I’m here for Shego…”

Shego came down the stairs in her signature green and black catsuit.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Shego asked, eyeing the teen up and down.

“Yeah? We’re gonna work out, right?” Kim was dressed in a tee shirt, leggings and sneakers, her red hair pulled back from her face.

Shego sighed and shook her head, “Fine, it’s whatever. Next time, wear what you’d wear on a mission. If it’s gonna be in the way, we need to know. It has to be able to perform.” She chided.

Kim felt silly for making the mistake. Shego even used her ‘teacher tone’ on her from when she substituted for Kim’s teacher. “Okay. Will do.”

Shego physically moved her half-asleep husband out of the way. “Well? Let’s go. I don’t want this to be an all-day thing.”

“Oh, uh, can I drive?” Kim asked, beaming.

A beat passed of Shego just staring at Kim in disbelief.

Shego turned to Drakken, “I want to be cremated.”

“I want Thin Mints.” The mad scientist lamented as the women walked to the car parked at the curb.

Janice was gawking at Shego as though she never saw a female body before. Shego gave a sarcastic wave.

“Who’s that?” Kim asked as they put their seatbelts on.

“The worst neighbor in the world,” Shego replied, putting sunglasses on. She flashed Janice a killer smile as they pulled out of the neighborhood.

It had already been decided for them that they would train at GJ’s onsite gym. Shego started Kim on stretches and a five-minute run, correcting her form here and there alongside her. Shego knew it was likely that Director was watching but it didn’t bother her. She was doing what she was supposed to do.

The timer on Shego’s phone went off and they slowed to a walk. She went over to a wall of equipment and took a padded strike shield and held it up.

“Let me see you punch,” Shego instructed.

Kim squared herself and threw her best one.

“No! No! No!” Shego exclaimed like a director with a cast who forgot their lines. “Who taught you to fight, your grandma?”

Kim didn’t know whether to confirm that her grandmother had indeed taught her a thing or two.

“Harder, you’re not going to hurt me,” Shego instructed. Kim wasn’t sure if she was trying to comfort or insult her.

For a period of time, Shego refined Kim’s punches and kicks.

“Now, I want you to try to take me down and restrain me.”

Kim charged at Shego, tackling the older woman to the floor. Shego knew that she had to let Kim learn, but that didn’t mean she went down easily. She was able to shake Kim off and roll away. Shego stood, about to jump away, when Kim got her in a headlock.

“Tuck your thumb in you idiot!” Shego said grabbing Kim’s four other fingers by one hand and Kim’s thumb with the other. “Do you know how easily I could rip your thumb off?”

Shego shrugged Kim off. “Again.” She ordered.

Shego let Kim get her into a headlock, this time with proper placement. They wrestled and tackled each other until Kim grabbed Shego’s hair, thinking she’d instantly surrender. Instead, Shego pushed back into Kim’s grasp, rather than wrench away.  Kim stumbled allowing Shego to escape.

“I will give you props for going for my hair.” Shego said, “I should probably start putting it in a bun. If anyone tries it with you, do what I did and push into it. You’ll knock your opponent off balance usually or lose hair if you try to pull away.”

“Right,” Kim nodded.

Kim was about to ask Shego if she wanted some water, “Hey Stepha-“

Shego immediately tackled Kim to the ground. “Do not call me that. I’m still Shego to you.”

“Okay, fine,” Kim replied, pushing Shego away.

Kim grabbed them each a bottle of water. The two sat in awkward silence on the mat.

“Who taught you all this stuff? Did you just learn on the go?” Kim asked.

“I’ve had a trainer since I was 16,” Shego answered, taking a drink.

That made sense, Kim thought. Around that time was when Team Go debuted. They must have had some training before their first mission.

Shego stood and went to get the First Aid pack and CPR dummy from the equipment wall.

“Are you going to teach me CPR?” Kim asked excitedly.

“You don’t know First Aid and CPR?” Shego asked skeptically.

“No…” Kim said, her face red with embarrassment.

“Oh my god, you’re more behind than I even thought. Do you just leave after you blow up someone’s lair? What about the populace surrounding it? What happens if you have to do search and rescue after a natural disaster? You’re a hero. You should know this stuff. It’s not all stopping heists and whatnot.”

“I’ve never done anything like that…”

“I have!”

Kim was beginning to get a greater understanding of Shego. What kind of things has she seen? Kim wasn’t going to pry and knew Shego wouldn’t tell her anything if she tried. Kim remembered that Team Go doubled as first responders at times. Kim had a vivid memory of seeing Shego being airlifted over the wreckage of a collapsed building to look for survivors on the news, her green and black feet dangling over the rubble. Shego couldn’t have been older than 17 at the time. Who pushed her into such a traumatizing and adult situation?

“Look, let’s forget about the past for right now or we won’t survive this. Truce?” Kim asked.

Shego only nodded but took Kim’s hand and pulled her up.

Kim smiled and took Shego’s leather-clad hand. It was a start; a small start, but a start nonetheless.

“Do you know how to properly headbutt someone?” Shego grinned, wickedly.

[storyknitter]

Twelve Days of Christmas Prompts - December 21st

Holiday traditions from Person A/B’s family

AO3

Vassanna sighed, rubbing her aching eyes. The words of the seemingly endless reports blurred beyond recognition and she flung the datapad onto the table. Idly wondering why these reports wouldn't simply review and approve themselves, she glanced up when Eli'anara poked her head in with a grin.

“Heya, cuz! How's your afternoon?” Without waiting for an answer, the spacer waltzed into the Commander's quarters, a box filled to bursting in her arms, and continued. “Well, let me tell you, it is better now!”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sanna said, standing. “What are you doing, Ellie?”

Eli'anara gestured to Seetoo, metal arms laden with an even larger box. “I'm decorating your place for Life Day since you haven’t yet. Clearly.”

“Umm, no. No, thank you. I don't need or want any of that. Besides, Life Day’s nearly a month away.”

“And it’s never too soon to decorate!” Ellie grinned broadly. “I brought stuff from home, too. Look, it’s an artificial tree, like Nana’s – and it even has lights already!” She patted the box. “You can't have one of those silly old holo-trees, you need something with presence.” The smuggler reached into the box, pulling out a strand of green, red, and gold sparkles. “And here’s some garland and tinsel and–”

“I said ‘no thank you,’ cousin.”

“Well, it's so dark and grim in here. You've got to shine the place up for the holiday!”

“I can take care of it myself,” Vassanna insisted.

“Yeah, see, that's what I'm afraid of.” She winked at her flustered cousin. “But in all seriousness, this is why I brought Seetoo, he's gonna help me and you don’t even need to–”

Eli'anara broke off, her hand flying up to her earpiece.

“What do you mean someone's moving my ship? No one touches my ship.” She glanced at her cousin, raising a hand in a sign to stay where she was. “No, you tell them that they can just wait a blissroot-picking minute and I will move the Star Chaser myself! Well, I don't particularly care that they...” Ellie's voice faded as she rushed down the hallway to rescue her ship from a change in parking assignment.

Vassanna dismissed Seetoo and sank down to the couch, glancing forlornly at the piles of holiday cheer. She couldn't do this. Not here, not in her own quarters. She could put on her mask and pretend that she was okay outside of this room, but oh stars, not here too. It was too much.

She leaped up and dashed out of the room to chase down the droid. Issuing orders for him to return the boxes of Life Day decorations to Ellie and Corran – after seeing to Sana-Rae's request for the Force enclave, of course – Sanna turned and headed to the Defender. She let herself into the empty ship, trying her best to ignore the ghosts of her past that still inhabited the vessel. It didn't matter how many times she glanced at the bridge, she fully expected to see Kira there, feet propped up on the dashboard, a smirk and “Hey Boss!” on her lips. The image of her friend and one-time Padawan was beginning to fade from her mind; she wasn't sure if she should be upset or grateful. Was that ‘moving on’?

Navigating the phantoms, Vassanna made her way to the dresser in the bedroom. She knelt and dug through the drawers until she found what she'd been searching for: a small holo-tree emitter. With a nostalgic smile, she headed back to her rooms, prize in hand.

Setting the projector base on the corner of her desk, Sanna clicked the power button and a small, half-meter holo-tree flickered into existence for a brief moment before shuddering out. She frowned and turned to Ellie's leavings, rummaging through boxes, half buried in decorations and glitter. With a triumphant cry, she emerged from a box, brandishing a new power pack and scent pod. After replacing both parts, she flipped the switch once more, standing back with arms crossed over her chest to admire her handiwork.

The little holo-tree glowed bright, its colors changing from red to green to blue, then pink, purple, and yellow as it slowly rotated. The tree blurred as Sanna’s focus shifted, memories dancing before her eyes.

She was ten years old, still dreaming of the Sacking and her uncle gone. But she was home and things felt right, even with a new Master in tow. Among her practical gifts that year – socks, undergarments, and the like – was a metal disc, about fifteen centimeters in diameter. Pressing the button, she and everyone in attendance was dazzled by the little holo-tree. “For the Life Days when you may not be able to make it home,” her parents had said.

Eleven years later, she went back to Mirial for Life Day, this time as a Master herself.

Though her little holo-tree was displayed proudly on the Defender, it was nice – relaxing – to be home again. Her entire family was making a big deal of her crew – T7, Kira, and Doc – whom she’d brought along. Laughter rang out, loud and often. Somehow, her mother had thrown together small gifts for all of them, even Tee. They’d just left Quesh behind, but had received permission for the holiday visit; the Jedi were gearing up to take on the Sith Emperor himself and Sanna was so very glad for the break.

A pang of melancholy tripped her heart. That visit had been the last time she’d seen her father in person, the last time she’d hugged him farewell. Offering up the apology she was never able to give him, she sniffled and stopped fighting the path her mind was taking.

The Life Day after... after their failed mission, Vassanna’s little tree saw two new crew members and a gaping hole in her memories – nearly an entire year’s worth. The entire crew worked their hardest to put themselves back together, for their own sake and that of the galaxy. It saw Lord Scourge participating in holiday events solely because of Kira’s taunting, and Doc trying to make light of the entire situation. Everything felt forced, from the laughter to the music.

She sighed heavily, hoping against hope that her friends were still alive. The pragmatic part of her hoped that – were they not alive – that their ends had been swift, painless, and honorable.

Before Sanna could stop them, images from last year’s Life Day pirouetted across the back of her eyelids: a slim, flat blue box resting on the pillow in front of her nose, a crystal and gold necklace waiting within. Her gaze shifted helplessly to the armoire that was hers alone now; the box and its necklace were tucked into the back of the bottom drawer, hidden beneath her clothing. She'd packed up all of Ther– all of his things, including that stupid old jacket, and asked Ellie to take care of it. Guilt and remorse shot through her and she ignored it; he had made the decision to leave, not her.

Her hand came up, unbidden, to rest on her chest; the place where the pendant used to hang was bare and empty. There was some sort of parallel to be drawn, wasn’t there?

“How could you?” she hissed. “I loved you, trusted you, and you... oh, how could you?”

Sanna glared at the tree, as though it were to blame. This was stupid. Why was she doing this to herself? A sniffle echoed in the large room, followed by a gaspy sob. No. She was not going to cry over him again. Not again, not again, not–

A beep from her comm interrupted, dragging her focus back from the edge of despair. She answered with voice only and found Lana on the other side, requesting a meeting.

“Of course. Give me five minutes.”

“Is this going to be like Koth’s ‘three minutes’? Because I can reschedule if necessary.” The pilot in question could be heard voicing his dismay over Lana’s slander in the background. Stars, Lana was good at knowing when she needed to smile.

“No, I don’t think so,” Vassanna responded with a small huff of laughter. “I’ll be there shortly.” Ending the call, she made her way to the ‘fresher. Splashing water on her face with trembling hands and taking a few deep, calming breaths, she settled her mask into place. She could do this. She’d dealt with worse, she could do this.

A comfortingly familiar warm, spicy scent wafted through the suite of rooms, emanating from the holo-tree. Yes, she could do this.

The temperature on Odessen was still warmer than she preferred for this holiday, but the evenings were getting crisp. Maybe she should grab a cup of hot cocoa from the commissary and head outside after dinner. If she was lucky, they’d have peppermint and either marshmallows or whipped cream.

The thought bolstered Sanna’s spirits and she held her head high as she strode purposefully into the hallway toward the War Room.

[softuris]

nightmare on neibolt street || epilogue

beverly marsh origin story

bill + mike + richie + ben + eddie + stan

—this chapter includes mature content including blood and a lil violence ! please proceed accordingly—

🌱ART BY @mikeshoneyc0mb !! they worked so hard on the art for this series so give them a follow🌿

—————————————————————

By the age of 16, Beverly Marsh knew better than to continue to believe what doctors have been telling her for years. She had chronic Atopic Dermatitis, AKA eczema. But typically eczema doesn’t make your skin fall off in chunks. Beverly knew better. She was dying from the outside in.

She also knew better than to let anyone at school know. Her scars never faded, but instead got bigger. Scabs grew thicker and her patience got thinner. Long sleeves and jeans were always in style for Beverly.

Besides her condition, Beverly was normal. Her academics never suffered, and she was as social as a butterfly. No one had to know.

It was June 17, 2014 when she made her first visit to Dr. Rogan, a world renowned Dermatology. He promised to fix her, make her feel better. To this day, Beverly tries to forget what took place in that office.

Dr. Rogan was no more than a curious bastard, using Beverly like a lab rat. His tests including pooring chemicals that were unknown to Beverly on her wounds, ripping skin off prematurely, and worst of all, sewing her skin back on.

Her parents stopped sending her to school because, for lack of a better word, they were cowardly; Too scared to ask for help, to report their daughter’s abuse.

Doodling became her hobby, using Dr. Rogan’s pens to draw on her arms and legs, and anywhere to make herself comfortable.

Beverly remained his test subject for 2 years. Side effects such as vomitting, rotting skin, and sore limbs became everyday occurences by the time she was 16. Her face was dark, sunken in, and her limbs bent in unnatural ways. Beverly was dying.

Her parents became restless and unsatisified with Rogan’s work. For this they left Beverly, and moved across the country without her. Beverly was forgetting what loved felt like. She forgot the look of her face, freckles and all, without the large scars and scabs.

Above all, Beverly was naive.

“Am I pretty?” she would ask Rogan.

To that Rogan chuckled. “You’re my creation. Of course you are.”

This always left her perplexed. She wasn’t getting the answer she was asking for. She wanted to be feel better about herself with these visits, but she soon became aware she wasn’t.

Understanding why her parents left took a long time for her to comprehend. She was a monster. Scary. Even Rogan believed so, however he was the only one who claimed she still be beautiful. So she stayed.

“You are beautiful. You are my creation.”

“I made you. You are everything.”

While these words sometimes made her feel better, his abuse always left her empty.

Upon turning 16, Beverly took it upon herself to embrace the horrid: To express herself for what she was; Scary. She spent time at the parks, scaring the children and sometimes adults. However it was never enough. It never sat well.l that this was her. It never sat well that she liked it either.

Her efforts to scare everyone in her path stopped at Rogan. He scared her.

This made her upset. Beverly decided she wasn’t peak until she scared him. Made him uncomfortable. So she began seeking out the perfect plan to terrify her way out of his abuse.

———

“Beverly, darling, are you ready for your new procedure?” Rogan said, stretching the paper over the exam table for Beverly to sit upon.

Beverly nodded.

“Today, we’re going to try sewing you up with—,” Rogan paused, carting a metal cart to his side, “Non-organic matter.”

Beverly swallowed. “Like metal?”

Laughing, Rogan tapped her knee. “No no! Like synthetic fabric, my dear. Patch you up with something that won’t rot.”

He laughed again and suddenly Beverly couldn’t help the smile herself. After all, she hid a surgical knife, she has swiped from the visit, behind her back, firmly clenched in her peeling fist.

Rogan stopped laughing. “Are you ready?”

Beverly was used to the pain, but something about this in the back of her brain told her this would be the last procedure. When Rogan stuck her with the first needle, she immediately giggled. She wasn’t feel especially joyful, just full of emotions that had been repressed since she had first started visiting Dr. Rogan.

With each pluck and pulling of the needle weaving through her skin, she relaxed further, letting the pain completely disapate. Her only focus became her attempt of scaring him.

“Doctor,” Beverly spoke innocently. Her grip on the knife tightened as he looked up at her from his work on her legs.

“What is it?”

She paused. This line, these next few words would be memorable to her. The final boss.

“You might want to start running,” she spoke a little quiter, a big wide smile growing on her face.

“Huh?”

Beverly snapped her arm back around, the knife pointed at Rogan’s neck. Her arm shook as she held eye contact. “I said you better run.”

Eyes wide and fearful, Rogan set the needle and thread on the metal cart beside him, and slowly lift his hands up. “Where did you get that?”

Beverly chuckled menically. “I swiped it from my last procedure,” she hissed, pulling at the thread on the side of her neck until they snapped, letting part of her rotted neck slide out from it’s place like a puzzle piece and her head tilted from the unevenness.

“Fuck.”

“You made me the shoes....” she hissed. “I might as well step into them”

“What the fuck is that suppose to mean?” Rogan growled through gritted teeth.

“Fucking. Run.”

Rogan kicked out his legs, letting the swivel stool he sat on to carry him towards the door swiftly. In one sharp movement, Beverly slips off the exam table and starts toward Rogan, who is fumbling with the door handle.

“Scared, Doctor?” Beverly chuckles, holding the knife with furvor.

With shaking hands Rogan opens the door, and begins running through the halls of the empty hospital office. What had he done? What had he created?

Looking back over his shoulder Beverly is chasing him, her hospital gown billowing behind her with each step of her scarred bare feet. His heart was pounding, but he knew where he’d go: The front desk. It has a lock, and if he’s able to get there with time to spare he’ll be safe to grab a scissors to defend himself.

“Where you going, Doc?” Beverly sings behind him, menically. “Hm?”

He approaches the door and all but bursts through, slamming the door on Beverly before she is able to get to him. Throwing himself against the desk, he searches the desk for scissors, an envelope opener, staple remover, anything. His heart begins to slow when his fingers find a pair of green scissors but is quickly changed when he hears Beverly laughter from behind the door.

“Can’t hide forever, yeah. This is what you wanted, ahah. You did this to yourself,” she growled, pressing her ear to the door to listen for sounds of escape. “You scared yet, Doc?”

Adrenaline was coursing through Rogan. In his mind, his creation was betraying him. With sheer force, Rogan kicks down the office door just barely missing Beverly. He swings his weapon at her like an eagle, for her to swing forward as well nicking his forearm heftily. Rogan side steps away from a wall, awaiting her next strike on for her to kick right between his legs. With a loud groan, Rogan falls to the floor.

“Should’ve stayed runnin’,” she smiled, leaning over a defenseless Rogan.

Im an attempt to discuss the situation, Rogan lifts his arm, only for Beverly to pine it back to the ground, her body hovering his like a vicious wolf. “You won’t take anything else from me,” she hisses, before smiling aggresively. With quick hands, Rogan pulls at the stitches on her arm with haste, loosening the support between arm and torso. “No! No no!” she screams, scrunching her face up in anger. “You fucker!”

Rogan grabs hold of her loose arm then, and completley tears it from her torso. With a harsh inhale of air, Beverly falls to the floor beside the man she hunted seconds earlier.

“You shit!” he shouts, kicking her weak body away from his own. He sits against the hospital wall, desperately covering the large gash in his arm. Blood spills between his fingers as he sucks in another breath. He then decided to finish it. Destroy his creation. Destroy this—

Brat.

With hasty arms and rapid breaths, Rogan grabs hold of the scissors once in his hand, and staggers toward Beverly. Her rotted arm lays feet away from her, and her face is sunken in more than usual. His hurtful eyes, Rogan begins crying.

Beverly knows he doesn’t feel sympathy for her. Only his creation.

Bullshit.

As much as she wants to teach him a lesson, there isn’t anything she can do anymore. Slowly, she presses her eyes shut, bracing for the impending strike of her dcotor’s hands.

But then she doesn’t feel it, and instead hears a groan and a body falling in front of hers. Gently, she opens her eyes and see’s a boy. He is a muscular black boy, probably around her age, with eyes redder than her hair. In his hands, his mouth is bloody before he swipes his sleeve across his face. He wore a black cloak, black slacks, and white collared shirt. He was chilling, frightening, and though her heart was pounding from her encounter with Rogan, she was scared. Even then, she could tell this stranger was like her.

“Can you move?” he asked, holding a hand out to her.

Beverly just stared up at him, tears beginning to form in her own eyes.

The boy swallowed. His eyes found her arm beside her, and picked it up gently. “Is this yours?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Can you move?” he asked again, holding a hand out, and keeping the arm in his other hand. Reaching back out to him, Beverly shuddered. His hands were cold as ice, but something about him was warm. “I’m Mike,” he smiled, with teeth whiter than snow.

“Beverly.”

“Let’s get you out of here, Beverly.”

—————————————————————

taglist: @svsoftie @umm-whatthefuck @sadgayascendingbears @gothicbyers @strangerthanyou011 @m-m-m-max @mxckshit @hannarudick @finnyboywolfhard @sedanleystanley @heyspacecadett @tiny-tea @noahschnapp @eyeroll-uris @sophie-needs-help @jxckandrson @pigeondust

[potentiallymrsdevorak]

In Fields of Flowers (The Arcana)

Chapter 4: Sweet Peas (Goodbye)

Pairing: Julian x Nijah

Summary: Nijah doesn’t lose just one, but two important people in her life.

Word Count: ~7100

Author’s Note: ok I don’t usually write sad things but here we go...if you know me from my old content you would know. We discuss some really heavy things in this chapter so if that is something triggering, please be cautious as you go through. I also added trigger warnings just in case. If you want to ask me the kind of things I have in this story before you read, feel free to shoot a message! 

Anyways I compiled a sad songs playlist to get you all in the sad mood:

Theme Schindler’s List - 2 Cellos (the original is just as good tho I just love these men)

Adagio for Strings - Samuel Barber

Elegy in C Minor - Fauré

Dives and Lazarus - Ralph Vaughn Williams

Symphony 5, mvmt. 3 - Shostakovich

Tagging: @drunkenomnist, @rromanovv, @juliandevoraknsfw (sorry in advance)

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Nijah had a million thoughts running through her mind, and yet, there was not one she could pin down.

It was no doubt that it was Selene sitting in front of her. The dark, curly shoulder-length hair bounced as she tilted her head and smiled. Her womanly figure could not be hidden underneath her shapeless potato sack like dress, given to all patients at the Lazaret. She even had the birthmark on the inside of her elbow that all the boys in elementary school would make fun of her for. If it wasn’t Selene, then someone must be a very good magician.

So Nijah’s best friend had the plague. She didn’t know exactly how, but she was here now. But there was no cure to the plague, so she would be dead in a matter of days. And there was nothing Nijah could do about it.

Should I tell her who I am? She wondered, then immediately shook the idea away. No, I can’t. 

She would never forgive me if she learned I couldn’t save her.

Finally, Nijah reached out her own hand to meet Selene’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Selene.” She replied, hoping the mask was able to muffle her voice a little bit, hiding her identity even further. “So, do you know exactly how you got the plague?” She took out a scroll of paper and a quill already coated in ink.

“Well, I can’t say I know for sure.” She confessed. “I’ve been traveling all over the place with this new guy of mine, but once we get back to Vesuvia, of course I catch this stupid bug.” She rubbed her inflamed eyes, the intensified redness pulling on Nijah’s heartstrings.

“I see. And how long had you been in Vesuvia before you noticed the symptoms?”

“About a day. We had just returned from visiting Nevivion. And when I noticed them, it was almost like the whole town already knew. I was quarantined and sent away to this island. I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”

“I’m sure he is missing you quite a bit.” Nijah finished her notes and stuffed the paper back in her jacket. “Well, we will begin treatment tomorrow morning, Miss Selene. I hope you get a good night’s sleep…” She began walking away towards the door.

“Wait!”

Nijah stopped in her tracks, turning only her head around. “Yes?”

“Do you know if a girl named Nijah Horvat works as an apprentice here?”

She paused, biting her lip so she could hold back the truth. “She has been moved to another facility.” She lied, nearly gritting her teeth as a wave of sadness overflowed her senses. She got the feeling this wouldn’t be the only time she would lie to her.

“Aw, that’s too bad. Have a good night, doc!”

“You too, Miss Selene.” And with that, Nijah shut the door behind her.

As Nijah was preparing for bed, she felt Katja’s arm around her upper back. It was strangely comforting, yet unexpected.

“Hey there, feeling any better?” She squeezed her tight, cracking something in Nijah’s back.

“Oof!” Nijah called out, reaching up to rub her shoulder. “Ah...not really. We’ll just have to see how it goes again in the morning.”

“Okay, how was your new patient?”

“Umm...she’s nice.” Nijah said. “I think she won’t cause me many problems.”

“That’s good!” Katja smiled. “I just got this older man, and he is the worst. Already asking when he can leave! And we haven’t even started treatment yet!”

Nijah tried to listen to Katja ramble on about her new patient, but the fact that her best friend would be dying under her hands kept her unable to focus on anything else. All their memories came flooding over her as she smiled and nodded her head, pretending she was all there in the conversation. But really, her heart was breaking and she felt like she wanted to do nothing but run and hide from the Lazaret, from the world, from everything and everyone.

Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t about to happen.

Nijah unlocked the door to room 187, carting a warm plate of breakfast and multiple medical devices. She picked up a few extra medicines from Julian as well, new ones that he had discovered only recently. She was willing to try them, as long as she had a chance of survival.

“Good morning, miss. I brought you your breakfast.” She squinted inside the room, the only light source being a small window near the ceiling. Selene was already up and waiting.

“How did you know this was my favorite? Thank you!” She took the plate graciously, savoring the food as if it was her last meal. As she ate, Nijah prepared the materials necessary for her first treatment.

She took a glance over at her friend and realized the plague has already taken its toll on her body. She looked a little skinnier than she did the night before, the bags under her eyes a little more prominent. She looked malnourished, but by the way she was eating her food, anyone could be fooled that she was fine and healthy.

“We’re going to try multiple different methods to cure your plague,” Nijah began to explain, “First, I need you to keep this bag next to you at all times.” She dropped the tiny bag next to Selene’s spot on the cot. With graceful fingers, she picked up the bag and took a whiff.

“Mmm, these smell wonderful! I feel like I’m lying in a flower bed.” Selene complimented the mixture of petals. What kinds of flowers did you use?”

“Magnolias, freesias, violets, gardenias…” Nijah went on, remembering the exact flowers Dr. Satrinava had told her to use. Most of the other apprentices thought it was a dumb lesson, but Nijah imagined that it could be very useful to her someday.

“You know, my friend Nijah loves flowers. It’s not something she tells a lot of people, but she used to read books about gardening as a kid. She really was passionate about the meanings of different flowers. Sometimes she would drop off some at my house and wait for me to figure out what they meant. But her parents wanted her to study the violin, so she didn’t ever find the time...oh, silly me.” She waved her hand, pushing away her commentary like it was nothing. “I know you don’t care as much. I apologize for boring you.”

Behind her mask, Nijah smiled bitterly as she mixed an herbal concoction. She was surprised that Selene remembered that far back. She must have been nine years old at that time. “No, it’s okay. You can tell me whatever you like. I don’t mind.”

She saw a wave of relief cross over her face. “Oh, thank goodness. I just miss her a lot, is all...it’s been nearly two months since I’ve seen her. Asra and I have tried to write to her, but every time we do, our letter gets sent back to us.”

“And who is Asra?”

“Oh, probably the most wonderful man I have ever met, doctor.” She swooned, fanning herself with the bag of flower petals. “I met him at the masquerade. Have you ever been?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“It was such a grand time! The whole castle was open and decorated in the most beautiful things. I was setting up Nijah with another man at the time...but I turned the corner in the ballroom and accidentally bumped into him. It was the most embarrassing thing!”

“I bet.” Nijah interjected. “Before you go on, can you drink this for me?” She held a cup of a thick, odd smelling liquid in front of Selene. She took it and looked at it skeptically.

“What’s this supposed to do?”

“Get rid of any aches and pains you might have.”

Shrugging, Selene threw the drink back, gulping the fluids back rather loudly as she finished it off. As she swallowed the last bit, a shiver ran through her body, but it passed as quickly as it came.

“Disgusting...but I think it helped. Thank you, doc!” She smiled, handing back the cup to Nijah.

Nijah knew that smile well. It was the fake smile, when she was trying to deceive others into believing everything was okay. It was a clear fact that she didn’t like it, but maybe she didn’t think it would actually help her. Either way, Nijah was happy that she was at least trying to stay positive for her sake.

“Anyways,” Selene continued, “I ran into him as I walked into the ballroom. But he played it off so well, pretending that I was an old friend or something like that. His masquerade costume was so beautiful, but when he took the mask off, he was even more gorgeous. He has the most beautiful shade of lavender eyes, stark white hair…”

Nijah briefly remembered seeing him at the masquerade, right before Julian and her were about to approach the two. So that’s who she’s run off with…

“...but one of the coolest things about him is that he’s a magician! He showed me so many cool tricks, read my tarot cards…”

Suddenly, something in Nijah’s stomach pulled. Hard.

“Oh, you’ll have to excuse me for a moment, miss…” She ran out into the hallway as she slid her mask off, hoping to make it to the bathroom before whatever was churning in her stomach made its way out. Unfortunately, it decided it had to come out in the middle of the hallway, directly in front of Dr. Satrinava.

“Doctor 187! Are you all right?!” Nijah was bent over on the floor, her hands resting over her stomach. Dr. Satrinava took their glove off and rested their hand on her forehead. “You don’t feel like you have the plague…”

Nijah wiped the ends of her mouth and stood to her feet. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m sorry about this...mess.”

Satrinava looked at her through their mask suspiciously, resting their hands on their hips. “Wait a moment. Didn’t Dr. Devorak tell you to get some rest?”

“Yes, but Valdemar vetoed that decision because we have so many patients.” Nijah shook her head, making her best attempt to stand up like nothing happened. “If you will excuse me, I have to return to mine right now.”

“All right...but if you need someone to take over for you, let me know. I don’t want to risk you getting infected.” Satrinava squeezed her shoulder. “And don’t worry about this mess. I’ll get Valdemar to clean it up.”

Nijah laughed a little bit, thinking of the odd doctor with a dirty rag and a bucket of water, trying their best to scrape every part of her puke off the floor. “Thanks, Doctor.”

The two part ways, and Nijah makes her way back into her patient’s room, securing her mask as she turned into the doorway. “Sorry about that, Selene, you may go on.”

“What happened out there? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just a little nausea…”

“That didn’t sound like normal nausea, hun.”

Nijah’s eyebrows raised as she faces Selene...not that she would be able to tell, of course. “What do you mean?”

“Do you have any other symptoms? Are you tired more often?”

“...yes.”

“Cramping down there?”

“A little bit, why do you ask?”

“Doc, you’re totally pregnant.”

At first, Nijah didn’t move. As the wave of realization hit her, she took a small step back. “There’s no way...”

“Trust me, I know. My mother had her youngest a few years ago. I was with her every step of the way.”

She’s right, Nijah remembered. Selene’s youngest brother was her mother’s most complicated pregnancy her mother had ever had, so of course Selene had to been around to help with the family as her mother dealt with her symptoms. Selene had grown up rather early, doing the household chores, cooking meals, and helping her other brothers with their studies beginning at the age of eleven.

But how could Selene tell? Every pregnancy was different, so it might just be a coincidence.

Then she realized that her cycle had come late. Too late.

Nijah cleared her throat and grabbed onto the cart. “Uhm...if you’ll excuse me…”

And without another word, Nijah rushed out of the room, holding back tears of sorrow.

I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, Nijah thought over and over again.

She was standing in the bathroom of the apprentice’s wing, all alone. She looked in the full length mirror at her body as she chanted the mantra in her mind.

It would explain a lot. Her illness, how tired she had been feeling, even the mood swings she had begun to felt. She wasn’t ill at all, she just happened to be growing another human being inside of her.

Julian’s child.

Oh, hells, what will he do? What will he say? Will...will he still love me? She asked herself as her hands moved up to caress her stomach. She had no idea how far along she was. Was she one week? Two weeks? Eight weeks? Did their first time they ever had sex actually get her pregnant? She swore she felt a small bump, but that could also be her mind playing tricks on her.

There was no way she could support another life while living in the Lazaret. She would have to leave if they both were to survive.

If I don’t tell Julian now, then I never will, she told herself. Putting her plague mask on, she left the bathroom, mentally preparing herself for what could be the most heart breaking conversation she will ever have in her life.

“Dr. Devorak,” Nijah called out, banging on the door frantically. “Are you in?” She could feel herself sweating from nervousness from the inside of her uniform. She just hoped she didn’t smell too bad.

He opened the door quickly. “There you are, come in.” He ushered her in, showing her to a seat on the cot. As he sat down he ran his fingers through his hair, his other hand jotting down something unreadable. “You came just in time. I need to tell you something very important.”

“Me too…”

“Oh? By all means, you can share first.”

“No, I think it would be better if you were to tell me first.”

“If you insist…” Julian trailed off, setting down the quill in his hand as his head hung low to the floor. “Nijah, I’m being sent back to Vesuvia.”

“What?!” Nijah nearly jumped out of her seat in shock.

“Please, keep it down.” Julian shushed her as his eyes met hers for the first time, pressing his hand into her thigh to keep her steady. “Count Lucio wants me and Valdemar to go to the palace to work together on a cure for the plague. He apparently has another man who is knowledgeable about its origins, and if we combine forces, we could end the plague for good and cure the city.”

“That...that’s great, dear!” Nijah beamed. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it affectionately. “I’m glad they’re seeing how well you are as a doctor. I’m really happy for you.” She hoped he could see how excited she was for him.

“Thank you. I never knew that my hard work could get me to where I am...along with a little inspiration from you, Nijah.”

She was taken back a little bit by his compliment. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” He reiterated, getting down off of his seat and on his knees, in front of Nijah. “The biggest regret I will have about going to the castle is that I will be leaving you behind.” He brings her hands to his lips, kissing every individual finger.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” Julian said dejectedly, as if he wished he had more time. “Nijah...I want to make the most out of every moment I have with you. Please, can you spent one more night with me? I promise I will make it worthwhile.”

“I’ll do my best, Julian.” She replied, caressing his face in the palms of her hands, rubbing her thumbs across his cheekbones.

“Thank you, darling.” He kissed her hand, running his gloved fingers over her arms. “Did you still need to tell me something?”

Oh hells, if I told him now, she thought, then he might have more regrets than just leaving me behind. He might never want to leave the Lazaret, then we will both be stuck here forever...there’s no way he can know.

At least, not now.

“Oh, never mind, it wasn’t as important as I thought.” Nijah shook it off, leaning her forehead in to touch his own.

“If you say so...you’d never hide anything from me, right?” Julian looked into her eyes, trying to search her soul for her truth. She hoped and prayed he couldn’t find it this time.

“Of course not.” She lied. “I love you too much for that, Jules.”

He’ll forgive you when he learns you were only trying to help, she told herself as he leaned in for a tender kiss, letting all her dark thoughts fly out the window. Julian was hers, she was his, and at least they could enjoy the rest of their time together.

“Ugh, you’re going to give me that stuff again?”

Selene did not seem too enthusiastic that she had to drink the same thick liquid she consumed earlier that morning. Made with the top quality herbs in the lab, as well as a few extra chemicals, it was supposed to help patients reduce their pain, but Nijah took that claim with a grain of salt.

“Just take it, miss. It’ll do the body good.” She tried to convince her, but Selene was more stubborn than that.

“If it’s so good, then why don’t you taste it?”

Nijah sighed, already frustrated from her mood swings. “If you won’t comply, then we will have to forcibly administer the medicine to you. So it can either be the easy way or the hard way.”

“Fine, fine, I guess I can’t argue with a pregnant woman.” Selene took the cup with a sly grin, drinking the mixture in one gulp.

“Could we not be so loud when discussing that matter?”

“Not wanting the others to know?”

“Precisely.” She answered. “They will know when I feel it is appropriate to tell the others.”

Selene placed the cup on the tray, careful to not let the glass shatter on the metal. “I see how it is. Is the baby’s father here, too?”

“You’re making very bold statements that I don’t think you should be, miss.” Nijah crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I suggest you stop, otherwise I will have to move you to a different room with a different doctor.”

“Okay, okay, jeez!” Selene held her hands up in regret. “I’m sorry. You just remind me a lot of my friend Nijah. She was sometimes a stick in the mud with some things, so I always teased her to get her to loosen up, that’s all.”

“Please do not feel like you need to treat me in such a way.” Nijah retorted. It’ll hurt me more that way.

“Hmm...did Nijah ever tell you how she met me?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ll have to tell it to ya someday. Maybe when you’re not so crabby!” She laughed, slapping her thigh in the process.

Ah, at least her personality hasn’t changed from the plague, Nijah thought as she began to roll the cart out of the room. Always willing to call people out.

“Well, I hope you have a good night, miss. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, doc! Sleep well!”

As she left room 187, she just hoped that Selene would live through the night.

That night, Nijah snuck out of the apprentice’s wing after the moon had risen and everyone else had fallen asleep. She heard the coo of an owl as she descended down the stairwell, her bare fingers trailing across the stone walls as she walked on her tiptoes. Julian had instructed her that she didn’t need to knock, that his door would be unlocked and ready for her arrival. He also instructed that he would give her a new, clean doctor’s uniform, so she could come in her everyday clothes she normally wore. Her long skirt brushed the floor as she shivered in her sleeveless top, finally arriving at the doctor’s office.

When she opened the door, she was surprised to see the trap door already open, her trail decorated with flower petals.

“Jules, what is all of this?” Nijah muttered to herself as she walked down the stairs. As she entered the bedroom, she saw two candles placed on the floor, illuminating the petal path. Her eyes gazed up at the bed, where Julian lay with a grin on his face.

“Oh, my darling,” he smiled, “I’m so glad you are here.” Even the bedspread had petals on it, and...was that a bottle of wine on a tray? “Come, please join me.”

Stunned, Nijah got up on the bed, sitting across from her lover. “Jules, what is all this for?”

“I told you it would be worth it, didn’t I?” Julian answered, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “You deserve it all. Wine, flowers, all the finest things…” He popped open the bottle, pouring a glass for himself. “Want some?”

Nijah wasn’t sure what it was, but something in her stomach told her it wasn’t the best time to try it. “I’ll pass for now, thank you.”

“If you insist.” Julian took a sip of his glass, feeling the warm liquid drip down his throat. Nijah took a moment to look over how handsome he was in the moment. Sure, he looked good all the time, but she never got to see him like this. His classic white shirt was unbuttoned further than normal, so she could see his entire chest and torso, the auburn curls making her want to run her fingers over his skin. His black pants rode a bit lower than usual, showing off the line of hair that ran from his navel right down to his…

“Nijah?” She felt his bare hand on hers, his eyes completely captivated by her.

“Yes, Julian?”

“I want to make things right for you. For us.” He sat his glass down on the tray and moved it to the floor, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. The tips of their noses brushed as he gently squeezed her. “I want to give you the life you wanted for us. I...I want to marry you, Nijah.”

She could feel her cheeks burning in surprise. This is not what she expected tonight to be like at all.

“I want to spend my life with you, give you everything you deserve. I just need time.” His hands squeezed her biceps, his nose brushing against hers. “Once we have the cure to the plague, I can take you out of this place. We can live in Vesuvia, or wherever else you may like. I would love to meet your family. And you can meet my sister.” His hand trailed to the back of her neck, playing with the stands of hair. “We can get married at a church, or by the sea, whatever you want. We can work together and help bring many people back to health. I...I want children with you, if you want them too. It doesn’t matter what we do for the rest of our lives, as long as you’re by my side.”

Nijah could feel the warm tears falling from her eyes as her heart overfilled with love. “Julian…”

“You don’t have to give me an answer yet, bu-”

“Julian, are you crazy? Of course I want that with you!” She leaned in, pressing a wet, salty kiss to his lips. He kissed her back, smiling as his hand slid further through her hair, wanting to feel every single strand brush on his fingers.

He pulled away for a moment, reaching into the pocket of his pants. He revealed a tiny golden ring, plain at sight, but with a deeper meaning only known between the two of them.

“It isn’t much, but I wanted to give you something to remember my promise…”

He took her left hand, sliding the band around her ring finger. It fit like a glove, resting perfectly above her knuckle. Nijah’s eyes sparked as she gazed at the jewelry, a symbol of their eternal love.

“It’s beautiful, Julian. Thank you…”

Julian led into the kiss this time, grabbing the back of Nijah’s shirt and pulling her to his lips quickly. She immediately felt swallowed by his passion, letting it consume every part of her being.

As the kiss escalated further, Nijah felt a cramp hit her at full force, forcing her to pull away. “Agh...I’m sorry Jules, I just…”

He pressed a hand down at her lower stomach, rubbing it with little pressure. “Is...everything alright?” He questioned.

“Yes. I think it’s just having a moment.” She made up on the spot.

“Well, you know you have one of the best doctors in Vesuvia right here with you.” He said pridefully, with a wink. “And I think I know exactly what you need.”

That night, Julian made the sweetest love that Nijah could ever receive, touching her in every spot that made her sigh with pleasure and scream with delight. He made her feel like they were the last two people on Earth, with the way his hands fluttered against her skin and the way his hips moved against hers. Nijah had never known sex could be so romantic, so loving, so intimate in this way. Every kiss made her feel closer to him, every stroke made her feel like she knew him for years. She had no idea where he began and she ended as they tangled the sheets together, only for him to find himself deep inside of her.

As they lay together for the last time for a long time, she allowed him to press his chest into her back, feeling the most vulnerable she ever had with a man. She trusted him, knew he would keep his promise, already longed for the day he would return so he could take her away from this place.

His thumb pressed into her hips as he watched her sleep. He chuckled lightly tom himself, wondering how he never deserved such an amazing woman like herself. It broke his heart to leave her, but he knew he would give her a better life as long as he had time.

In that moment, he swore on his life he would do anything to protect her. Even if it meant sacrificing himself.

When Nijah awoke the next morning, Julian already had all his belongings packed and ready to go. She found the new uniform waiting for her at the foot of the bed. She put it on hastily, hoping that he had not left her yet.

As she walked up the stairs, she twirled the ring on her finger with her thumb. She still couldn’t believe it was still on her hand, let alone that it was a symbol of the promise Julian had made to her. In his office, she saw Julian writing a letter to someone he must have cared about. She didn’t want to startle him, the tranquil scene of the rising sun and a single flame calming to her. But, this would be the last time they would see each other in a while.

“Good morning, Julian.”

He jumped in his chair slightly, then turned around to see her. “Good morning, darling. Slept well?”

“Better than before.” She sat the cot down and took a seat, watching him as he wrote. “Who is that for?”

“It’s...for you.” He admitted, scribbling his signature frantically on the paper. “But you can’t read it until I’m gone, got it?”

“Yes, Dr. Jules.” She teased. 

Julian waited for the ink to dry, then folded it up and place it in Nijah’s breast pocket, patting it for security.

“There. Now I’ll be with you wherever you go...again.” He blushed, his fingers trailing over her left hand and brushing against the gold band.

Nijah was usually able to read every emotion he had on his face, and this morning was no different. Julian’s face was overwhelmed with bittersweet happiness. He was excited about his new adventure, ready to save the city, but his heart was torn with even the idea of leaving her behind.

She initiated the embrace, hugging him tightly and hoping she would never need to let go. Julian followed suit, his warmth enveloping her like a warm blanket on a chilly day. He rocked her back and forth in his arms, his lips pressed against the crown of her head. He inhaled her sweet scent, his favorite smell in the entire world. She exhaled as her head rested against his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Wait for me, Nijah. I promise it will be worth it.”

She looked up at him, knowing that his words were true.

“I’ll wait a thousand years for you, Julian.”

He leaned in for one last kiss, his lips burning a longing feeling throughout Nijah’s entire body. She didn’t want him to go, she wished that she never had to go another day without seeing him.

But, she knew he was helping the city. He could be saving the world.

“Goodbye, Nijah.” He whispered as he pulled away from her, taking his cloak and tying it around his neck. “I’ll be counting down the moments until I see you again.” He took her hand and kissed it reverently.

“I love you, Jules.”

“I love you too, Nijah.”

And, just as quickly as he came into her life, he was gone.

Nijah went about her normal duties, doing her best to pretend everything was fine. Nobody but Katja even knew that she had feelings for Julian, and her friend has barely scratched the surface of their relationship. But, she stood with confidence, chin up and spirits high, just like he would want her to be.

But, as she brought the cart with Selene’s meal and the medical tools she needed for today’s procedure into room 187, she knew that the patient would be able to see right through her facade. She was good at picking up on these things. Thank goodness she was wearing gloves so she couldn’t see her ring.

“Good morning, doc!” She exclaimed, standing to her feet to welcome her. “Is everything okay?”

Nijah took a glance at her dear friend and was taken aback. This would be her third day with the plague, so it would most likely take her life tonight, but...she was shocked at how terrible Selene looked. Her eye sockets made her look like she was a zombie, she had a bright flush over her cheeks, her body looked as frail as a fingernail. She could barely smile without wincing in pain.

“Please, miss, I suggest that you stay seated today…” Nijah rushed over to her friend’s side, helping her sit in the cot. Selene let her lead her, taking a blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders as she sat.

“How ya feeling today, doc?” She asked.

“I’m fine, miss.” She replied quickly, handing her a hot plate of food. “What I want to know is how you’re feeling.”

“Terrible.” Selene admitted, picking the food up with her fingers and eating it carefully. “I feel like I’m being eaten alive. I’ve never been in any more pain.”

Nodding her head, Nijah added the commentary to her notes. “Well hopefully I can give you some relief today.”

From a box on the cart, she pulled out a small vile, holding a small leech. It was one of Julian’s favorite parasites, for it apparently gave patients the most relief. She had her doubts in the tiny little parasite, but for Selene, she would do just about anything.

“Hey, woah there…” Selene set her plate down next to her. “You’re not gonna put that thing on me, right?”

“Of course I am.” Nijah answered, plucking the tiny creature out of the vile. “Trust me, it’s pretty painless.”

Selene stared at the leech squirming around in Nijah’s hand, narrowing her eyes. Her body language said it all - she didn’t trust like that. Eventually, she sighed, accepting her blood-letting fate.

“Well, it could be worse. Where are you gonna put him?”

“Just on your arm right here…”

Nijah wiped down her upper bicep with an alcohol and water solution, and quickly attached the leech onto her skin. Selene initially shouted from the pain as she felt the teeth dig into her skin. But, after a moment passed, her voice went quiet as she watched it sucking her blood.

“Hey, it actually kinda tickles!”

Feeling slightly more relieved, Nijah watched as the leech grew bigger and bigger, taking more of Selene’s bad blood out of her body. Maybe Julian was on to something...she thought as she watched the scene play in front of her.

That night at dinner, Nijah felt completely miserable. She knew the fate of her dearest friend would be coming soon, Julian had been gone for quite some time, and her cramps and mood swings were not getting any better. The only saving grace was that the chefs made pumpkin bread as a special.

Nijah sat next to Katja, and she immediately knew something was wrong. “Nijah, you’re hiding something from me. What’s wrong?” She placed her book down on the table, giving her full attention to her friend.

“You know how when I lost my first patient, I felt worthless and like I was a bad doctor?”

“Yes…”

“Well now I feel worse because…” Nijah took a deep breath, “my current patient is my best friend from home.”

Katja placed a hand over her heart, feeling it break for her dear friend. “Oh no...does she know it’s you?”

“Of course not.” She tore a piece of the pumpkin bread and placed it in her mouth. It tasted delicious, but it was far from fresh. “If she knew it was me, she would never forgive me for not knowing how to keep her alive.”

“I don’t think it would be like that…” Katja trailed off. “She knows that you tried everything you could, right? Or you at least tried?”

“I did essentially everything we were taught to do,” Nijah recalled. “I even visited her multiple times a day to do all the different treatments we learned. Nothing has helped.”

“Could Dr. Devorak help you?” She looked around the room, confused as to why he hadn’t arrived.

“He’s gone. Off to work on the cure at the palace.”

Katja nodded in understanding, a frown crossing over her face. “How far along is your friend?”

“This is day three. She could pass away at any moment.”

Katja closed her eyes and shook her head. “Nijah...go to her. Even if she doesn’t know it’s you...she needs you now more than ever.”

She’s right. I’ll never forgive myself if I let her die alone.

“All right, then I should get going. See you later tonight…” Nijah trailed off, making her way to the patient’s wing.

Strapping on her mask, she felt her heart racing and a feeling of dread drench her entire body. She expected to lose patients, but she never expected to lose a dear friend.

“Hey, doc…” Nijah heard Selene croak weakly.

“Good evening, miss. How are you holding up?” She could see that the plague has nearly taken Selene away completely. She was lying face up in the cot, the blanket wrapped around her like a baby in a swaddle. She managed to pull an arm out and wave her hand to greet the doctor. Nijah could see that she was all skin and bones, that it was nearly her time.

“I don’t think…” Selene coughed, covering her mouth with her fist. Nijah swore she saw blood fall from her lips, but she wiped it away too fast for her to see. “I’m not going to make it, am I?”

Nijah shook her head, unable to verbalize the truth.

“That’s too bad…” Selene closed her eyes. “I really thought I could start a life with Asra. He’s so sweet and charming, treats me just right. I wanted him to meet Nijah. And we all could have got along with that one guy...what was his name? Hah, I never learned it. But she also met some guy at the masquerade. Very alluring…”

“Sounds like you and Nijah have a great relationship,” she smiled, happy that at least in times like this, Selene wished she was around.

Selene was able to prop herself up on her free arm, grunting on the way up. “Hey, I know this is odd, but y’know how some people have like, last requests before they die?”

“Sure.”

“I know this is weird...but Nijah would always let me lay her head in her lap whenever I was stressed. Do you mind if I…”

Nijah nodded her head. “Not a problem.”

She made her way to the cot, helping Selene sit up so she could settle in just the right spot. Her body felt light as a feather, compared to the womanly figure she once knew so well. Slowly, gently, she laid her head down across her legs, allowing her hair to fan out just the perfect way.

“Thanks. I feel much more at ease now.” Selene smiled up at the plague doctor’s mask, getting used to the feeling of someone lying across her once more.

“No problem.”

“Hey, have you ever had a best friend?”

“I’d like to think I have.”

“Good. And if not...you can always say that I was.” Selene nuzzled into her lap. “Y’know, just in case.”

Oh, I do...Nijah’s heart split in half, holding back the tears she could already feel coming.

“Oh! I need to tell you the story of how Nijah and I met!” Selene said excitedly.

Nijah smiled behind the mask. “Please, tell me...and don’t leave out a single detail.” All the while, she was remembering the story with her, so long ago…

She could remember how much she was crying. Some of the other students were bullying her because of her flower obsession. They thought it was stupid and that she needs to focus on the more important subjects they were learning in school. She was seven.

After school let out, she ran off into the forest. She didn’t tell her parents where she was going. She just knew that she had to get away.

She ran as far and fast as she could, hopping over gnarly tree roots and sticks, scaring off the wild animals that lived there with her wails. Not even the crow, which flew high above with its menacing caws, could scare her off. It was almost like she was being led somewhere by magic.

Not long after, her feet stopped in front of a row of bushes. Hidden behind them lay a large field of flowers, filled with beautiful colors as far as the eye could see. Nijah could name them all - carnations, violets, orchids, hyacinths...and she knew all their meanings, too.

She took a step into the flower field, letting the fresh scents be her guide through the wilderness. Here was where she felt safe. Not back in the city of Vesuvia. Not in her schools. Not even the front step of her home. As she meandered through the floral maze, she began singing a song that her mother had taught her a few years back”

“Flower, grow and grow,

“Bloom when the sun shines,

“And when the rains come,

“Still you will shine your light...”

As Nijah walked through the field, she paused. She heard someone else’s voice echoing with hers. Curious about the sound, she continued her song...

“Bloom to show us all,

“That you are divine,

“When the sun goes down,

“Show me what once was mine…”

In the middle of the flowers, she saw another girl, about her age, singing along with her. She had recognized her from school. She was a loner, much like Nijah seemed to be. The girl turned around as she walked over to her, dark curls blowing in the breeze.

“Oh!” She exclaimed. “Was that you singing?”

Nijah nodded, a little shy to be meeting her so suddenly.

“Your voice is so pretty! Let’s be friends!” she held her hand out to shake on their new acquaintanceship.

Nijah accepted, surprised at how enthusiastic this new person was. Just how excited was she to have a new friend, especially her of all people?

“My name is Selene. What’s yours?”

“N...ni...nijah.” She stuttered anxiously.

“Nice to meet you! I can tell that we’re going to be friends forever.” Selene pulled Nijah into a tight hug, nearly squeezing her to death. Nijah wasn’t used to this form of affection, but she knew something that could be just as good…

Nijah peeked over Selene’s shoulder and saw just what she needed. As her new friend put her down, Nijah trotted over to the edge of a rosebush. Trying her best to avoid the pricklies, she managed to pull out a single yellow rose. She presented it to her new friend with a cautious smile.

“For friendship.”

Selene gushed, a light blush dusting over her face. “For me? Thank you!” She carefully took the flower from Nijah’s fingers, smelling the lovely aroma.

Nijah felt a wave of relief. Having a friend felt good.

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given me. I promise.” Selene grabbed Nijah by the hand. “Come on, let’s go back home. I want you to meet my momma!”

“...and from that day forward, we were inseparable. We would go to that field every year to celebrate another year as friends. It seems like we’ll be missing this year, though...”

Nijah’s eyes welled with tears from her memories. They were so precious to her, and she never thought she would be looking back on them like this. So tragic, to have her friend dying in her arms this way.

“I...I think you two will find each other again. In another life.” Nijah rambled.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, the world works in mysterious ways.”

For a moment, they were silent. Nijah tried her best to dry her eyes, batting them quickly so her tears would go back to where they came from. Selene seemed to be thinking deeply about something, letting her face frown as she concentrated.

“Doc, I have to thank you. For trying to save me. You...you made me feel like I was more than a patient.”

Nijah refused to say anything. She would lose herself if she did.

“I never imagined dying this way. I imagined living my life, with my friends and a lover, having a family of my own...but hey, maybe in another life, right?”

“Maybe so.”

“I wish you well doctor. I hope that maybe, we can meet again.” Selene reached up to caress the doctor’s mask tenderly, like she was saying goodbye. “Th...thank you…”

And, in that moment, Selene took her last breath.

Nijah closed her eyes with her fingers and rested her hand back on her body. She took her mask off, letting it fall to the ground as she could no longer hold back the tears, holding Selene’s body close to her own.

“Goodbye, my friend…”

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed in the room where she died. All she knew was that she cried until her body was completely dry, unable to feel anything anymore.

The next morning, Nijah still felt completely empty. But she didn’t know how else she could feel. She had lost one of the people that meant the world to her.

Selene had requested that after her body was cremated, that Doctor 187 would bury her by the sea, so she could find herself with Nijah someday. For the sake of her deceased friend, Nijah rolled out of bed, fiddling with the ring to help her not feel so depressed. Julian would want me to do this, she thought as she stretched her body out from her sleepless night.

As she made her way to the bathrooms, she kept on getting frightened stares from the other doctors. They backed away from her, had her name on their lips, even ran out of her way as she trudged forward. Even Katja looked at her in fear. But she didn’t care. They don’t know what she’s going through. 

She assumed that she looked rough because she didn’t sleep a wink. A cruel way to go about it, she thought as she opened the door to the bathroom.

Nijah took a bucket and threw some cold water over her body to wake herself up. The freezing temperature jolted her body, feeling her senses go into overdrive.

As she patted her body dry with a towel, she walked over to the mirror instinctively to fix her hair. But when she saw her reflection, she dropped her towel in horror.

The whites of her eyes had turned bright red.

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[iivisionaries]

“LAST EXIT” PART 1

BLURB: Coming to terms with her best friend's death, finally free of the chains from her alcoholic father, now in a new town Laci is ready to explore her independence and get back to normal. Whatever that looks like now.

“I need to speak to someone right now.” I burst through the door of the clinic.“Umm, ma’am were about to close. If you come back tomorrow we can schedule you an appointment.” the receptionist said from behind the desk, she stood up from her chair and looked at me with worry in her eyes. Disregarding what she said I ran to the back of the clinic and walked into the office of a doctor Jessica Thomas.

“Hey, doc. I need to talk.” The doctor turned around and looked at me, she pushed her glasses up on her face and exhaled deeply.

“Im sorry but my office hours are from 8:00 to 10, come back-”

“I know, come back tomorrow to schedule an appointment, but I really need to talk to some.” I said, cutting her off. I closed the door to her office and sat down on her white leather couch. She dropped her bags and sat down in the chair in front of me.

“Well, what's your name?”

“Ava, Ava May.” I figured it probably wasn't smart to use my real name. Just then the receptionist burst into the room.

“Dr. Thomas, would you like me to call security?”

The doctor looked over at me, I pouted my lips and placed my hands together silently begging her not to call security. She squinted her eyes and looked back at the receptionist.

“No, I'll be working late.” The doctor said, the receptionist looked at me and closed the door

“So, Ava. Why don't you tell me what's wrong.” I snickered

“Where do I even start?”

“Well just take your time and start from the beginning.” The doctor settled in her chair and crossed her legs. I exhaled,

“I used to feel really happy. I used to not have a care in the world. Back then the world was clear. But then for reasons that are still pretty unclear to me, my mom was repeatedly crushed in her car on her way home from work one night. Her car flipped over about 4 or 5 times, before it blew. Not to be so terse, but it was pretty brutal. Then my life was uprooted, to a small town outside of Hillwater, called Crescent View. Pretty basic, pretty normal, pretty- boring. But I can understand why my dad had to do it. You try explaining to a 4 and 5 year old why their mother isn't coming home every night. It wasn't easy in the beginning, we lost her at a young age, my brother and I. My dad tried to stay strong for us but we knew he was hurting. I try not to think much about my mother, and I have my ways of coping but my methods of coping with her death aren't exactly- orthodox, if you can call partying a way of coping.”

“When did the partying start?”

“When I was 14. My dad came home drunk. It wasn't the first time but it had been 10 years since my mother died. When he was drunk, he was calm and wasn't a broken mess about mom, I thought I could feel that way as well.”

I have this rule where I don't go to more than one party a week, because- well, anything could happen. Every morning my brother and I walked to school. My brother was always a people person, my dad says he takes more after mom than I do. After my mom died, the therapist suggested that he use sports as a way to cope with her passing. So he tried every sport I could think of before the basketball coach at school invited him to play for the school's team. He joined the team as a Freshman and quickly extinguished. By his junior year he’d have college scouts begging him to play for their team. He loved the way people cheered for him, he loved the fame. Generally he loved the way people paid attention to him. But he hated my dad and the way nothing he did never was ever good enough. After every game my dad was already making him practice all night for the next one, until he just stopped carrying in general. Stopped coming to games, stopped the practices. He never talked to dad much, he cleaned up after him, cooked for him, Even helped him bathe, but never talked to him. He made a personal promise to himself never to end up like our dad, so he did everything he could to excel, so he never asked for help because he didn't want to look weak, and he didn't party because he didn't want to be influenced to drink, and fall off the wagon. But he didn't mind if I did. After mom died he was usually very protective of me, I guess it was because I was the closest reminder he had of mom. Because me and my brother are so close I like to think I know everything about him. He liked cars but the fancy ones that people that we grew up with couldn't afford. He hated loud cars and people who drove cars with loud engines. He liked seeing confidence in women. He liked taking care of people. He liked jean shorts but the longer ones. He liked slimmer girls with good posture. He hated clinginess. He hated messiness. He hated loud music, and places that were too quiet. He hated the feeling of being tied down and being held back. He hated the feeling of being wrong or something that he liked being wrong. But there was nothing he hated more than rudeness. Most people can tolerate rude people but he didn't even want to think about it. And when he got a girlfriend that would be the first thing he’d notice. When he got a girlfriend he would be protective of her. Taking care of people made him feel good. He sometimes thought about marriage and having a family, but committing was never easy for him and that's why a majority of his relationships never lasted. He was a good boyfriend though. But that's all he wanted to be. Plus marriage wasn't easy. And he liked easy.

While we were walking to school this morning I noticed a family moving in down the block. They had quite a few boxes. I considered going over to offer my help, but I was already late for school. If I was late again I'd be in school suspense, again. So I decided that after school I'd go over and introduce myself, making sure to meet the teenage girl who looked to be about my age.”

“Did you ever go?” The doctor asked

“I did.”

After school I told my brother I was taking a different path home. It wasnt that I didn't want my brother to know what I was really doing, I just didn't want my dad to. I placed my bike gently in the driveway and walked up to the door. I looked up at the knocker on the door and then over at the doorbell.

“I remember thinking, do they really need both?” I chuckled.

I rang the doorbell and stood back waiting for someone to answer the door. Just then the door unlocked. I looked at the girl standing in front of me.

[fyodorsuggestions]

Tagged by @fy-soukoku

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

My A03 username, and main blog and twitter and facebook and freaking discord and literally every single thing is Darke_Eco_Freak either with hyphens, spaces or underscores and basically I was an edgy 11 year old who loved Jak II and the concept of the evil version of the protag Jak. Only I wanted to be extra Edge™ so I added an extra E to dark.

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/subscriptions/hits/kudos)

Hits: Sex Pollen isn’t a real Thing (it was one of the first smuts I wrote and it’s kinda bad now whoops)

Kudos: Sex Pollen again

Comments: T(w)o Me, Fo(u)r Us, or as I call it 2/4

Subs: 2/4

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

It’s been Virus from this piece of art for some months now. Why? Because Kat made it and I love it a lot so you know

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

Um damn, I haven’t gotten regular comments in a few months except from my friends whom I spam with my many many fics. I’m actually in another fandom I made another archive account for because reasons but yeah. My friends are my fave

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

I haven’t actually read fic in a while, there’s one or two Daredevil ones I think about but I don’t go back and re-read, my attention span’s been pretty shit for a while.

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

I’m not subbed to anyone but I have bookmarked 6 fics

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

None really. My latest fandom isn’t really open for AU’s, well written Au’s at least and yes I’m forever salty over that. Hmm, if there’s one I like to toy with though it’s Evil AU’s, you know the villain turns bad AU? Love em

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

Subs: 465

Bookmarked: 2133

I don’t really care though because A) I’ve been in a lot of fandoms since 2014 and I know most ppl are here for the porn as per comments on said porn.

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

Idgaf. I’ve written necro, cannibalism, torture porn, self-insert stuff. Honestly I dump most of what my other fandom wouldn’t accept on this one. Plus Fyodor is a very easy character to manipulate for me so it’s always fun.

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

I’d like to be better about my chaptered fics, not abandoning them and things like that. Also, action scenes, I want to get better at those.  

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

I multiship myself to hell. For this fandom I write whatever catches my eye because I don’t know the characters all that well? The running meme of me not watching the show is still a thing. In my other fandom, I’m one of the few writers around and I write every single ship I can think of cause I can.

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

One my darke account: 73, on my other account; 10 but I post a lot to tumblr and don’t really cross post all that much.

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

I can’t tell you that because I just keep huge word docs around but for the year I’ve written about 600 k so that’s cool.

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

I just write off the top of my head most of the time, I’ll talk out a plot with a friend sometimes but otherwise it’s just whatever I feel as the day goes.

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

I have, two, soon to be three.

16. How did you discover AO3?

I think I saw someone on ff.net mention it and I started looking at the site.

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

Fuck no lol. I’m here writing the rarest of pairs and writing oc/characters, not to mention in first person sometimes and those tags alone mean ppl won’t read. Eh, I’m just posting to archive to bolster the number of fics a character has tbh. (this is for BSD fandom but I’ve never been a popular/famous author in any fandom)

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

Umm, half the time I’m not sure I have ppl beyond friends who read my fics so yeah.

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

I’d say Lakshmi Persad, a local author. Mostly because I hated having to do that book in lit class and wanted to do better than her.

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

If you want it, make it. I’m serious, don’t count on anyone to make the content you want to see, do it yourself and people might follow suit, if not, at least you made it. Hella.

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

I finish stories and still have no idea if I figured them out or not.

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

I’ve gotten a few, mostly I ignore them. But there was this one fic, it wasn’t for anyone but me and I shouldn’t have posted it at all but I did and someone told me that the characterization was completely wrong for the character I was writing and I ended up leaving the fic alone for months and months. I got back to it eventually but I’m not sure if I’ll ever finish that fic tbh.

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

Action gives me joint pain. I just how do you make it flow?

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

I want it All

Deathless Sleep

Missing Pages

Five times he fell

Divine(d) Visions

2/4

Many lil drabbles and sexy times.

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

I can’t plan to save my life

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

It used to be 300 a day now it’s 2k because apparently I hate myself. Most of the time I meet it, between the two fandoms I write for daily so yay.

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

Absolutely.

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

Step back Through Time and Remember my Touch, definitely those two. One’s the original fic and the other is the sequel. Best things I wrote all year

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

Maybe Gone, that’s a really old one but god the cringe.

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

Hopefully I figured out those damn action scenes.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

I think bringing the characters to life in my own head is the easiest thing.

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

Not letting lack of feedback get to me cause I’m not writing popular shit, I don’t expect it but god damn it gets discouraging as fuck to see something I worked hard on just kinda flop and drown.

33. Why do you write?

I can’t do anything else and crave validation like the attention whore I am.

I’m tagging @chuuyasuggestions @kyusakusuggestions um idk who has archive shit. If you follow me and you see it, you have to do it okay? 

[the-pen-and-the-stethoscope]

Halfway Through: Reflections on Family Med

So as I mentioned before, last Wednesday was the halfway point of my family medicine clerkship. I have so many thoughts so far on what I’ve been doing that I honestly don’t even know how to organize them so buckle up everybody this might get bumpy...

POST NOTE REFLECTION: Holy shit this is long. Ima put a break in so I don’t scare anyone

The short end of it is - some things are AWESOME, some things are less awesome but overall I really really love this rotation. 

I guess I’ll start with the basics...without trying to give too much away: my school has opportunities for us to do some of our third year clerkships at hospitals and clinics that are not in med school town. So this summer I have actually been living in *undisclosed small town in New England* and working at a clinic there. I have been here for three weeks, I have two weeks left and then I go back to med school town for wrap up and shelf. 

Since I’m in a new location a little bit about how that has been - well in one word: amazing. I am so in love with this town. I have actually always kinda pictured myself settling in small town New England, but being here these past few weeks has just made that feeling stronger. I love the people, I love the scenery, I love running down the main strip in the morning and watching the old guy set up the marque for the local movie theater. I love the coffee shop with the workers who already know my name (mostly from kicking me out when they close...) I LOVE the old grandma that I’m living with who has been keeping me company. I just love it. 

And I love practicing medicine here too. I love the clinic and all of the doctors who work here (not just my preceptor). They are always coming to grab me to show me a cool physical exam finding or practice a procedure. They stop me in the hallway to ask me questions (an MA once said - “Omg I don’t know how you can handle that.” and it’s weird because when I was a second year I totally thought I would hate being pimped and just be horrible at it. I mean there are certainly times when I get something wrong and then kick myself two seconds later because I knew that BUT here - I’ve never felt truly pimped. I’ve felt probed for answers, but all truly for the sake of my learning. One time I didn’t know and I just said “Well I’ll go look it up” and two hours later I was back in that physician’s office with an answer - and of course more follow up questions. It’s a new kind of learning, but I’m just reveling in it.) and they are some of the friendliest doctors ever. And they love and know their patients. These are their neighbors and they treat them like family. That is the kind of relationship I’ve always wanted with my patients and I love watching it in action while also being given the privilege of taking part in the exchange as well. 

And my preceptor himself is a really amazing doc and teacher. He gives me a lot of autonomy and I feel like I’m actually contributing to the care of his patients instead of just getting in the way. I also have been casually practically adopted by his family at this point...I’m literally living with his grandmother (you read that right), last weekend I went to his nephew’s birthday party, and I spent this whole past weekend away at his uncle’s lake house. Like literally part of the family. We have a good rapport as well and I feel very comfortable taking risks and getting things wrong with him. His MA is just a gem of a person and I’m obsessed with her and her baby (who is also one of his patients - did I mention this was small town medicine?) and she’s the one who told me I should come back to work at the clinic after I graduated (see previous post) and like - I would. 

So overall it’s safe to say - this is a pretty amazing place with pretty amazing doctors and this clerkship has been pretty amazing.

But what I am struggling with, what I have been struggling with since the beginning, is separating my feelings about this office and this practice and these people from my feelings about family medicine as a practice and life pursuit. Ima try - we will see. 

So things I like about family medicine: I like the diversity of the practice. I like that I get to do a little bit of everything. That in one day we might see a couple people with long term issues, a couple healthy people in for a check up, a couple people with acute problems and then a couple kiddies and OB’s to round out the day. It’s exciting that each patient has something very different that is bothering them and that you never quite know how an appointment is going to go. I’ve had plenty of people with diabetes who have been struggling and then all of a sudden they come in and they are like “I’ve turned my life around” and their A1C is 5.7 and I’m like Umm yes you have let’s celebrate and that is the appointment. I’ve had people come in with weird symptoms that end up being nothing big. I’ve had one person come in with a pretty serious ectopic pregnancy scare. I feel like I’m constantly on my toes and I love it. 

Sorta on a similar note - I am really liking the OB and pediatric stuff, more than I thought I would. I got to deliver a baby in my second week and on Friday I scrubbed in for a C-section and it was exhilarating. I also have always loved kids and getting to do well child visits has been so so fun for me during this clerkship. Both of these aspects of family medicine have kept things fresh for me constantly and also given me some insight as to how these other rotations will go in the future.

I like the hours - so sue me. I really like getting done by 5 pm and getting to spend some time at night studying and reading and watching TV. I like that I can go to bed early and then wake up early for my runs and still have time to get to clinic an hour before the first patient. I like that I can spend my weekends exploring and hiking and relaxing and grocery shopping. I like that my preceptor can invite me over for a campfire on a Monday night and I have the time to meet his kids and eat s’mores and talk. 

I like the longitudinal care - I feel like I’m on the ground with these patients. Working next to them day to day in their care. I’m not some guy high up in the sky shouting orders and expecting them to be done. I’m here in the trenches following the A1C, the blood pressure, the weight, the level of anxiety, the amount of times they couldn’t leave the house because of their depression. I love that my preceptor ends each appointment asking a personal question - so how are the kids? So hold old is Jane now? Have you been up to the lake at all? Is your wife feeling better after leaving her job? He doesn’t need to be prompted. He knows them. 

I like how much my words have an impact on someone - maybe this is because I am still at the very beginning of third year, but sometimes I feel so helpless with the amount I don’t know still. I struggle a lot with pharmacology. I often see something and think it’s one thing, but really it’s something else. I still don’t feel confident on many aspects of the physical exam. But also some times when patients come in and there aren’t any drugs that will fix them and there isn’t any specialist they can see - they just need someone to look them in the eye and say “I’m here with you.” And being able to do that and see a patient respond positively to me - it means the world. It’s so powerful. I feel so powerful. I love it. 

Some things I don’t like as much: Well as much as my preceptor’s schedule is mixed up sometimes I do get bored dealing with diabetes and hypertension. I mean, yes, there are always other things going on, but about two days almost every patient that had walked in was a 4 month follow up for one of those problems and I was scared that was all this was. I actually had a moment in that first week when things felt boring when I thought to myself - oh shit is this what the rest of my life is? Then I remembered like noooo this is what the next five weeks is and then things change again and then you’re life can be whatever you want. But some days when I get tired of writing notes or just seeing basically the same thing over and over I go back to that moment and I try to think if this - sitting in clinic day in and day out - is really want I want the rest of my life to be.

And well...I feel terrible for saying this, but it does hold me back mentally - sometimes the prestige factor gets into my head and freaks me out. Sometimes I think, wait do I really just want to do primary care after spending all this time at med school and working so hard and blah blah blah...ahhh I hate myself for thinking it, but it gets in there and that’s the cold honest truth and I need to address it to fully appreciate all the choices I have this year in front of me. 

Anyway, I know there are more cons and I have a lot more to say but I’ve been writing this now for almost two hours and I need to go home and eat. 

General gist is - things are good. I am having a great third year so far. We will see what this week brings. I am still undecided on what the fuck to do with the rest of my life.