#but i get bedrest as a treat i guess?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quitealotofsodapop · 5 months ago

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it has been awhile, but I've finally gotten around to doing another one of these! hope it will help with my writing funk.

[and is super guilty for not having told him back then. At the same time, Wukong is confused why Max seems so... ok with it suddenly???] + [He ultimately doesnt want to open up any old wounds Wukong has from the incident since he's been living with the outcome of that fight far longer than Mac has.] + [Why was Wukong protecting the monk that hurt him? Why was Wukong going on this Journey and not returning to his throne? Why did he hide the Stone Egg from the world?]

honestly? Wukong is probably more concerned by how okay with having been killed Mac is than he would be if he was still upset and causing problems because of it. I feel like Wukong would actually be very ok with talking/answering any questions about what happened, it'd be a hard conversation for sure, but he's grown to have enough emotional maturity to know it's a necessary one. the only reason he let Mac get away with pushing it off for so long to the point of it blowing up in there faces a little was because he was trying to let the other have time to process and work out how he felt before trying to hash things out together.

but perhaps, Wukong is also deflecting a little, worried that trying to talk about it would spur into an argument. neither of them are very good at listening to each other when they get riled up, and after how their fight went... he knows he did his best trying to talk Macaque down, but he always kinda feels like he should've tried harder. he just doesn't want things to get out of control again.

[Ao Lie and Wukong are quickly panicking over each other while their other bros are forcing them to rest after the Samadhi Fire Ritual.]

the Tripataka forces them both onto bedrest, but it's a combined effort of the uninjured pilgrims to keep them there considering how restless Wukong can be. between Wukong and Ao Lie? it's an endless cycle of "no, I'll get up and ask for water, you stay in bed" and "no, I'll grab the extra blankets, you need to rest".

[Wukong was in so much pain that he was convinced that he was going into labor, or that he even lost Yuebei as a result of joining in the Ritual.]

now I'm just picturing the others waking up to Wukong (who normally has a very high pain tolerance) loudly sobbing from how much it hurts and inconsolable because once the thought of having lost the egg even crossed his mind he became convinced that's what happened. he must have cried so hard, they'd have to call Guanyin to do a check-up while he's still sobbing to show him the egg is fine for him to even begin to calm down.

[Nezha makes note of hiding anything flammable whenever he visits the monkeys.]

it does seem Yuebei has a taste for the spicy-er things, huh. wonder if she'd like any of Redson's cooking?

[Pigsy: "Sure thing. Guess little monkeys aren't much different from little MKs." *gives Yuebei her nose back*]

heh- funny thing about that pigsy-

[Memory!Ao Lie, frowning: "Why are you so stubborn to admit that it wasn't your fault? I really truly never blamed you, or her." Wukong, crying: "Why were you so ok with it? Because of me, the Samadhi Fire it... hurt you."]

Wukong has had a real rough go with people ditching him after one mistake, real or even just perceived mistakes alike, and messing up the ritual and letting the fire hurt Ao Lie? a monumental fuck-up to almost anyone you ask. Wukong, rather unfortunately, has very good reason for believing Ao Lie would hate or resent him for it, anyone else would. he's grown used to it, apathetic, maybe even has grown to expect it.

as it is, this means Wukong has a very hard time understanding/grasping it when someone doesn't hate him over things like this.

[Ofc Nezha feels like garbage for treating Wukong's actions during the Ritual as a failing.]

worst part is, Wukong doesn't treat him like he was wrong. when it gets brought up he talks about matter-of-factly, nonchantly, like it was no big deal that he was in pain, at risk of sacrificing his unborn egg and basically everyone aside from the pilgrims was treating him like he was the ultimate disappointment.

this is in part due to Wukong's own guilt over the ritual, insecurities about being enough/strong enough, and because he, again, doesn't blame Ne Zha because he didn't know about the egg because Wukong never told him and therefore, it's actually on his shoulders .

(Wukong needs a therapist)

[The Spider Gang has nightmares of Guanyin coming to beat the rest of them up like she's a Jojo stand.]

they're so terrified that they basically start praying to Guanyin- more so begging to be left alone, but still.

[To hear that Wukong has named her his little "Moon Comet Star" just makes him cry harder, especially with how casually Wukong names her.] + [But I bet Wukong is just so happy that he tells everyone Yuebei's name long before that time.]

I think Wukong probably had a lot of trouble coming up with names before Yuebei was born, nothing just ever seemed right! he honestly tried not to think about why the only ones that ever seemed to be good candidates were space/moon related names. but then Macaque came back. he stopped denying it at that point, and just went all for it. no matter how things with Mac end up going, Wukong probably already had the name chosen by the time he came back from looking for the map. And yeah, Macaque loves the idea that this was always Wukong's plan, and Wukong being just as happy about the name is also just so cute to him!

[It's PIF anf DBK's fave baby photo of Yuebei - besides the one where she tried eating Red Son's hair.]

oooooo what do you think would be everyone else's fav baby photos of Yuebei?

[and when he gets to Camel Ridge, he pauses before looking towards Wukong for confirmation. At Wukong's excited nod, Macaque grins evily.] + [Macaque also deliberately exaggerates the voices of their allies like PIF and DBK so Yuebei doesn't accidentally associate their voices with the muddy past shown in the book.]

let's be real, Peng's voice is the most bastardized.

love the fact that Macaque doesn't even really have to ask, Wukong already knows what he's planning and is living for it. Wukong enjoys the retelling almost as much as Yuebei does, if only for Macaque's dramatics. and doing his best to change her perception of their current allies? a very appreciated effort.

[Azure is clueless and isn't sure if monkey cubs work like lion cubs or not. Yellow Tusk has the sense to ask the remaining servants for help with tending to the infant - a group of seven brave orchard maidens stepped forward to run the baby a bath and prepare her a meal. Yellow Tusk is sure that he recognises them.]

so long pining for a monkey and he has no clue how they work or how to care for one. at least Yellowtusk is at least a little bit sensible. and ah! the peach orchard maidens Wukong was friends with! imagine if this was their first proper intro to Yuebei. they've never met but they know this is their old friends child so the seven will do anything for her, take on as many responsibilities as it takes to keep Yuebei out of Azure's claws as long as they can.

they don't like any of the brotherhood, but tusk at least seems remorseful enough to consider him safe enough to help bathe the little infant- with supervision of course. Yuebei latching to his trunk was probably as funny to them (at Yellow tusk's expense) as it was heartbreaking because they could probably recognize the behavior for what it was due to their time spent with the Monkey King.

at least Yuebei's comes out of it thinking/feeling very positively about peach maidens.

[So when the elephant gently put Yuebei in the warm bathwater and offered her mashed fruit, she instinctively clasped around his trunk like it was the arm of her parents, making sad hooing sounds as she sucked on her fingers. Yellow Tusk felt his heart break at the sight. He simply cannot fathom harming her in any sense of the word.]

oh no, Yuebei's sucking her finger, means she's missing her mama. imagine if after her rescue Wukong/macaque notice she's developed a small oral fixation from the trauma of her kidnapping.

I wonder if Yellow Tusk ever looks down at this tiny monkey and has an epiphany about how he treated Monkey King and Macaque, or the treatment of them he was at least complacent in. those two were never truly infants sure, but they were young minds, perhaps the thought had never crossed his mind because they're looks were deceiving when it came to age. how young had they truly been? what age were the children the brotherhood sent to war and martyred?

perhaps it doesn't matter anymore, the chance at redemption long forgotten, but at least he knows i his heart of hearts he will not make the mistake again. even if it means betraying those he's held dear for so long...

[Mac would make a show of picking up his baby girl and kissing her all over while commenting in baby-talk; "Did you have fun with the birdy and kitty, moonlight? Yeah? Do you want Bama to take something to remember your little play date?"]

the fact that Macaque baby-talks to the obvious victor only makes Peng's humiliation worse. Imagine getting turned into ground beef by an infant and her dad comes in and makes it all the more real that you were beaten by a less-than-a-year-old baby by outright baby talking her in front of you. like you always were and always would be nothing but literal child's play to deal with that you weren't even deserving of having your defeat be treated seriously, no. your opponent gets baby talk congratulations.

Macaque will forever tell the story of Peng's defeat when having proud dad bragging moments.

[Macaque has one of the feathers preserved as a bookmark. It brings him great joy.]

he takes a couple feathers for himself, makes a few different things out of them, like a quill. but he also made one or two for other people like Wukong and of course Yuebei's toy. they all bring him (and the receivers of the gifts) great joy.

prev.

yesyesyes some SlowBoiled thoughts! Also btw I've shortened what parts I'm replying to for brevity.

[honestly? Wukong is probably more concerned by how okay with having been killed Mac is than he would be if he was still upset and causing problems because of it...] + [but perhaps, Wukong is also deflecting a little, worried that trying to talk about it would spur into an argument... ...he just doesn't want things to get out of control again.]

YES

A big reason for their fight just as S4 starts is the fact they're avoiding some pretty big glaring questions/concerns to "avoid conflict", only to hurt themselves and each other more by deflecting. Sometime avoiding confrontation is more harmful than tackling your demons head-on and de-escalating any anger that it brings up as it comes. Wukong would be ok answering any questions Mac needed to be answered, but the real hard part is getting both monkeys in a space where they can vent it out a bit without one or both trying to portal away from an escalating conversation.

A good marriage counsellor needs to take on Wukong and Macaque's case and let the monkeys honestly Talk for a while without interruption.

Yue Lao, god of marriage & true love: "Diiiid someone call for marriage help?" :3

[the Tripataka forces them both onto bedrest, but it's a combined effort of the uninjured pilgrims to keep them there considering how restless Wukong can be. between Wukong and Ao Lie? it's an endless cycle of "no, I'll get up and ask for water, you stay in bed" and "no, I'll grab the extra blankets, you need to rest".] +[now I'm just picturing the others waking up to Wukong (who normally has a very high pain tolerance) loudly sobbing... ...he must have cried so hard, they'd have to call Guanyin to do a check-up while he's still sobbing to show him the egg is fine for him to even begin to calm down.]

Aww. It's very sweet but also kinda sad to think about. Eventually Ao Lie and Wukong are both too exhausted from their escape attempts, so the rest of the Pilgrims tap in to tend to them.

And the miscarriage scare!! PIF had opened up to Wukong in the last few weeks about how she and Bull had suffered tragic losses before Red came into the world - and when Wukong feels that terrible pain in his body, he immediately breaks down at the thought of suffering the same loss. Guanyin has to check in since Wukong won't stop hyperventilating and crying at the idea that he lost Yuebei. The goddess thankfully is able to confirm that the soul within the egg was alive and well, just very startled by the surge of power. Wukong still cries, now from relief.

Sadly, if the Samadhi ritual occurred after Macaque's death, Wukong likely saw the Egg as the final reminder of his former-mate. Yuebei is his little moonlight, even if her creation was not ideal.

[it does seem Yuebei has a taste for the spicy-er things, huh. wonder if she'd like any of Redson's cooking?]

Now I'm thinking of a scene where post-S3/4, Red Son is messing around in the kitchen with MK and Mei while they're babysitting Yuebei. Cue the baby grabbing a handful of spicy bbq sauce Red Son has been preparing and shove it in her mouth like it's nothing. All three are speechless with terror as Yuebei doesn't appear to be bothered in the slightest. Then she tries going for more!

Red Son quickly moves his sauce pot away and wonders aloud if he's skipped an ingredient. MK takes a spoonful, and with his face sweating profusely wheezes "Nope. That's Australian-level."

Yuebei whines for some more, and all three now understand why she keeps trying to eat firey things. DBK laughes proudly when he's told about it later on - nothing less from his dear godcalf!

[heh- funny thing about that pigsy-]

Lets just say a lot about MK's upbringing makes more sense after Pigsy realises that his son is a monkey demon XD

[Wukong has had a real rough go with people ditching him after one mistake, real or even just perceived mistakes alike... ...this means Wukong has a very hard time understanding/grasping it when someone doesn't hate him over things like this.]

THIS is why Ao Lie and the Samadhi Fire arc are so important to Wukong's character. He has such trouble understanding that sometimes people who care won't hold your mistakes real or perceived against you. Ao Lie likely told Wukong to his face multiple times that he didn't care that Wukong "screwed up", he was just glad that Wukong, the Egg, and Tripitaka were alive and well after all things considered.

[worst part is, Wukong doesn't treat him like he was wrong... ....(Wukong needs a therapist)]

The fact that Wukong doesn't mind that Nezha treated his failure that way all those years ago, makes Nezha even more concerned in the modern day!

yes yes he does.

[they're so terrified that they basically start praying to Guanyin- more so begging to be left alone, but still.]

Guanyin can only grant the Spider Gang a swift end and perhaps a revival after S3. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[I think Wukong probably had a lot of trouble coming up with names before Yuebei was born,...]

Wukong is bad at naming things I feel. He did call himself "Grimpil Sun" when he pretended to be a different monkey in the Gold-Silver Twins chapter. Even after over a thousand years of prep, he's still undecided what he'd should call his Egg once they arrive.

He's called Yuebei his "little moonlight", his "star", and his "comet" since long before he finally decided on her name. And when Macaque came back into his life and confirmed that he wanted both of them to be safe? His little "Moon Comet Star" just made sense - she indirectly brought his Moonlight back to him.

[oooooo what do you think would be everyone else's fav baby photos of Yuebei?]

hehehe!

For Wukong it's any photo of Yuebei. Look at his daughter! She's here! She's so perfect! Has one of those giant wallets full of photos of her.

Macaque's favorite is one Mei snapped of Yuebei just after the baby had destroyed Peng and Azure - the cub's eyes gleaming with delight at seeing her Bama again, her mouth full of golden feathers. He also treasures a photo he took of Wukong just after Yuebei's egg was born - his Peaches smiling contentedly as he curls around the egg.

MK's is when Yuebei saw him put away the Staff, and she tried looking inside his ear for it.

Mei is taking so many photos all the time, so it's hard for her to have faves. One of her faves though is a pair of photos where Yuebei is completely calm and about to fall asleep, and then her eyes are glowing with eye-lasers cus a bang in the kitchen scared her. Mei uses it as a reaction meme.

For Pigsy its a photo of Yuebei attempting to eat her first mooncake - the pastry was bigger than her whole head. Chang'e took the photo and just knew Pigsy would love it.

Tang's is the one of MK holding Yuebei for the first time, tears and snot running down the older monkey-boy's face while Yuebei looks up at him curiously. Tang thinks it's hilarious.

Sandy's fave is Yuebei taking a curious sip of tea from her mama's cup, and frowning hard when she realised it wasn't as nice as milk. Also one where Yuebei and Mo got distracted by the same cat toy - seems that the baby girl likes attacking things with feathers.

PIF and DBK's faves are well known ofc. Red Son would claim that he doesn't have any, but secretly its one where the baby monkey is playing peekaboo with DBK. It just really heart-warming to see his father interact with Yuebei after missing out on a lot of Red's childhood. Red looks at the photo and wonders if his father ever tried such games on him. (He did. Baby Red Son exploded)

Jiuweihuli and the twins love any photo Wukong shares with them. The old Vixen's favourite is where Macaque managed to get Yuebei into an elaborate baby costume (lots of bribery with mashed peaches was involved) and the baby is just happily sticking her tongue out at the camera.

It takes Bai He a while to warm up to Yuebei all the way, but she likes the photo of Yuebei when she first met Mo. The cat was very cautious and the baby monkey was just fascinated.

The gods themselves get rare glimpses of Sun Wukong's baby. Nezha's fave is a short video of Yuebei's first ever swimming lesson - decked out in all the little floaties as she doggie-paddled in the kiddie pool, Wukong smiling and holding his arms out for her while Macaque filmed. Nezha loves it not only for it's content, but for how happy Wukong finally is after so long. He blesses Yuebei many times over for good fortune and safety.

[let's be real, Peng's voice is the most bastardized. love the fact that Macaque doesn't even really have to ask, Wukong already knows what he's planning and is living for it. Wukong enjoys the retelling almost as much as Yuebei does, if only for Macaque's dramatics. and doing his best to change her perception of their current allies? a very appreciated effort.]

Macaque turns Peng's voice into a harsh nasally sound with random squawks thrown in like a cartoon parrot.

Wukong and Macaque have a near psychic connection as a couple once they start cohabitating again (and deal with emotional stuff). Wukong cannot deny his Plums the chance to make fun of their former brothers. Wukong even gets in on it, mimicking his own younger self and a some of the Pilgrims in a silly voice. Yuebei loves story time.

[so long pining for a monkey and he has no clue how they work or how to care for one. at least Yellowtusk is at least a little bit sensible... ...at least Yuebei's comes out of it thinking/feeling very positively about peach maidens.]

Azure is an orange male cat at his core - he's standing there, holding Yuebei by her diaper and wondering "What now?" while Peng covers their beak. Yellowtusk atleast has the wisdom to ask around the palace for help when Yuebei starts getting fussy. And since Peng confirms that the Memory Scroll "took the cupbearers as well" in the special, the Orchard Maidens are running themselves ragged to ensure that the invaders are content, and by proxy Yuebei safe. Not many are aware of their familial connection to the Emperor on first glance, so they quickly disguise themselves as "just" servants that escaped the Scroll.

So when Yellowtusk approaches almost shyly for help to feed and clean the baby hostage, the girls knew they made the right choice to stay. The seven maidens had taken one look at the baby monkey, saw the power she wielded, and just knew she was their dear didi's baby. '

The Maidens provide a character statement for Yellowtusk once everything is said and done. Afterall, the elephant allowed his trunk to be nearly crushed if it meant the baby girl had comfort.

Oh oh! Imagine in the aftermath of S4, Wukong manages to ask Yellowtusk who cared for Yuebei while she was hostage?

Yellowtusk, in cuffs about to be taken away: "I tried my best, but without the aid of the seven Orchard Maidens I likely wouldn't have fared much better than my brothers." Wukong: "Orchard Maidens?" Seven distinct voices: "Didi!" Wukong turns to see the seven snake-cat-like celestials running towards him, their appearances unkempt from worry. They carefully check him and Yuebei over. Orchard Maidens: "Oh thank buddha you're ok!" "We were so worried!" "After what happened to baba we..." "We couldn't bare to leave her alone with them!" Wukong, touched: "You all stayed behind, knowing that you shared the halls with the lion that took your father away, just to make sure my baby was ok?" Orchard Maidens: "Of course!" "You're a fellow attendant!" "Aiyi would have broken her vow of pacifism if either of you were truly hurt!" "We knew she was yours just from the way she... shot lasers out her eyes." Wukong, tearing up: "Oh girls..." Wukong & the Maidens: (*all group hug, careful to give Yuebei some space*)

Yuebei considers the Maidens akin to aunties since they care for her so well and clearly have a good relationship with her mama. This indirectly leads to the mourning Xiwangmu to see the baby girl as a surrogate granddaughter once they are properlly introduced. Yuebei recognises something in the Queen Mother's heart is hurt and wants to hug and kiss it better. Xiwangmu in turn can only reminice on the times she and her dear Jade held their own cubs in their arms, the dawn of their empire.

[oh no, Yuebei's sucking her finger, means she's missing her mama... ... he knows i his heart of hearts he will not make the mistake again. even if it means betraying those he's held dear for so long...]

Yesss. Baby monkey who are separate from their mothers develop oral fixations/self-soothing behaviors, which is still seen if they successfully gain a foster mom/is returned. It's a learned habit. Now I'm imagining Yuebei becoming super attached to her pacifer long after she's weaned, just because its such a source of comfort for her. Wukong and Macaque had to ask around a bit to try and figure out how to wean Yuebei off the pacifer once her milk teeth started growing in.

Yellowtusk's redemption is very internal, but it reflects heavily in his actions. After the days of caring for Yuebei, and coming to realise how they as a Brotherhood treated their monkey brethern, Yellowtusk starts on the path of reversing the damage caused by the coup. Even if the Heavens never forgive him, he is ultimately glad that his brothers and their families are safe - a far greater reward than what Azure's plans brought him.

Note; in situations where the Brotherhood survive/are captured after S4 - I feel like the Buddha pulls a Jttw on them and suddenly theres three circlets on their heads for the next few millennium. >:)

[the fact that Macaque baby-talks to the obvious victor only makes Peng's humiliation worse... Macaque will forever tell the story of Peng's defeat when having proud dad bragging moments.] +[he takes a couple feathers for himself, makes a few different things out of them, like a quill. but he also made one or two for other people like Wukong and of course Yuebei's toy. they all bring him (and the receivers of the gifts) great joy.]

HAHA! XD

Peng ain't ever going to live down being turned into chicken paste by a baby monkey. A bunch of celestial soldiers and servants saw how the Six Eared Macaque waltzed in, picked up the baby monkey, and cooed at her while Peng lay broken upon the floor. Yuebei isn't some disguised immortal or god, she's a baby. One that quickly falls asleep in her parents arms once they're all reunited.

Macaque is so keeping a few of Peng's feathers as trophies. The quill idea is amazing - he'd sign everything with it. Wukong gets a cute broach made with one of the golden feathers intertwined, and thinks its beautiful (if a little arrogant but hey he loves trophies). Yuebei has a toy thats 80% feathers she's ripped from Peng, and 20% string and cloth that looks like a kitten toy - it's her fave thing besides her plush skeleton toy. Macaque sends Xiwangmu a few feather quills along with a letter of condolence - it brings her some comfort (as does the lion hide she drapes on her shoulder).

tysm for asking in! Its ok to take breaks from writing if we need it. I'm just glad that we can shoot ideas back and forth.

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atopvisenyashill · 1 month ago

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Hey! Just wanted to say that I read your post on Jaehaerys and his daughters — pretty horrific, especially in how it really isn’t that much of a stretch to see the evidence of you’re looking for it. I’d always read Jaehaerys as being a monstrous father to his daughters, especially Saera, but your commentary on Gael was particularly convincing.

I haven’t been able to read through all of your thoughts on this, but I was wondering if you noted Jaehaerys’s strange reticence to outlaw the ‘right of the first night’ (F&B, 263-265)? Gyldayn writes the passage as if Jaehaerys treats the issue dispassionately, but he also says that Jaehaerys was “sympathetic but reluctant,” “uncomfortable,” and that Jaehaerys “threw up his hands” when Septon Barth agreed with Alysanne that the practice was vile. Could tie in with your idea that Jaehaerys showed an entitlement over control of his daughters’ virginities, just as he sought to protect his vassals’ ‘right to the first night.’

Another point that stuck out to me on a first read that I didn’t know what to do with until now was Gyldayn’s assertion that “until the reign of King Jaehaerys, the ancient right to the first night had been invoked mayhaps more oft on Dragonstone than anywhere else in the Seven Kingdoms” (F&B 429). Which implies that the practice happened after the Conquest, too. The only possible perpetrators would be Aegon the Conqueror, Aenys I, Maegor the Cruel, Aegon the Uncrowned, and Jaehaerys, as the only male Targaryens old enough to do so before it was outlawed at the end of 58 AC. What do you think?

Thank you for the compliment first. I do agree I think the Saera and Gael parts are the most solid, and of his children, I think they're the ones most likely to have experienced some sort of overt sexual abuse from their father. I guess if you want My Opinion and not just Meta About His Behavior, I think Jaehaerys was likely molesting Saera starting around when Alysanne starts miscarrying and is put on bedrest, and moved onto Gael after the Second Quarrel ended. I think the freaky stuff with Alyssa, Daella, and Viserra was more likely some deeply weird parenting decisions from Alysanne although I cannot stress enough that I do think there might have been like. idk the beginnings of weird behavior with those three (Viserra's drinking, wanting to marry Daella off so young, Alyssa's sex obsession) that was likely cut off before any of the girls would clock it as inappropriate due to their marriages. I also think it's likely he molested Viserys and Alicent; with Alicent it was probably very similar to the Saera and Gael stuff (and...I think it's likely both Alicent and Otto knew when Alicent walked into that room what was going to happen) and with Viserys it was more along the lines of that repeated "older Targaryen takes younger Targaryen out into Flea Bottom to get fucking and sucking" a la show Daemyra, Visaemon, and Aegond, but probably Jaehaerys (being like, old, creepy, lonely, always imagined that when Viserys was young and skinny he looked much more fem which is part of why he starts Eating His Feelings as an adult, because he feels it makes him more masculine looking, that's just me tho) got handsy and Viserys just kinda let it happen figuring it was normal, so it escalated because Viserys wasn't really fighting it.

As for Jaehaerys and prima noctus...yeah, I think it's so fucking weird and not talked about enough that he really needs to be talked around into outlawing it, and he only starts to give on this after Barth, a man, starts to speak up against it. Before that in the conversation, Alysanne and him are really going back and forth and he is not giving her any ground here. He even seems to defend it when it comes to Valyrians (of course) which I also think is nauseatingly glossed over when it comes to discussing how whack Jaehaerys is about sex and women. And people always wanna say like "oh i bet it fell out of favor post-Conquest" yeah we have no fucking evidence of that. It's the same when people are like "Baelon can't be Ulf's father Baelon would NEVER-" Baelon is a paper thin character who canonicly usurps his beloved brother's niece, you cannot say with any sort of certainty that that man wasn't up to some nefarious sex crimes just like 80% of his relatives. As a matter of fact, I have kinda wondered if the show's little brothel escapade thing is a take on this - that perhaps it was incredibly common for Targaryen men to take younger male relatives out into the villages on Dragonstone and find some newlywed maidens to molest. Especially because like, Orys is mentioned as an example of this, and he has his own last name (rather than being called a Orys Waters), so it makes me incredibly suspicious of what in the fuck Aerion Targaryen was doing and teaching his kids. I think its very likely that Maegor, Aenys, and Aegon the Uncrowned were up to heinous shit like that and it's completely glossed over by Gyldayn because it makes them look bad.

#asks #jaehaerys the cruel #i should have a prima noctus tag i talk about it often enough lol #anti jaehaerys i targaryen #whosoeverbattlesmonsters

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bardic-inspo · 5 months ago

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Medical CW (Good news!!! But also detailed news so scroll on by if that's not something you're up for.)

Surgery today went really, really well. They found adenomyosis (a close cousin to endometriosis) on my colon, which had partially attached it to my abdominal wall. They were able to get rid of most of the adenomyosis and I'll need to take medication to treat the remainder for about 6 months to a year.

It seems I never had a GI condition to begin with. I don't think I'll ever know if I truly needed my gallbladder removed or not, but I guess I'll never have to worry about gallstones.

I have an answer finally and that alone means so much even though there's still a road ahead. I feel free as a bird. Metaphorically. Bedrest for me the next few days.

Thank you to everyone whose sent words of support and encouragement alone the way. I promise you it had a huge impact on me and my morale. 💜 Sending so much love right back to you.

Edit: I might have the name of the thing I have wrong. Gonna go ahead and blame.my very tired and medicated brain 😆😴

#medical #personal #please don't reblog

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sunmoonjune · 3 years ago

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like the moon [five]

pairing: poly ateez! x OC!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: talk of injury and scars, blood, death, gore, talk of shitty parent/family relationships and torture, ptsd, cursing, abuse, assassination attempt, anger, angst, hurt comfort (sort of?) the reader is also pretty nonverbal at times (wow this sounds really angsty, huh D: )

a/n: heyo! another chapter is here!! sorry for all the angst, but I guess we gotta get through it before all the good stuff hehe let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

word count: 7.2k

[previous - chapter four] chapter five [next - chapter six]

San and Yeosang keep you on bedrest for four days.

It’s harder than you had imagined it would be. San has escorted you back into bed with a gentle scolding after the first two times you attempt to leave the bed. On the third, it’s Yeosang who catches you. He’s far less kind than San when he finds you by the desk in the corner. You had moved to lean against the corner as you read one of the medical journals stocked in a small bookshelf. It wasn’t particularly interesting, but it managed to cure the boredom for a moment or two.

Yeosang wasn’t rough by any means, he was mostly just concerned. Though he may have appeared a little angry, he was still extremely gentle as he helped you back into the bed. Heaving a disappointed sigh, he dropped the book you had been scanning in your lap with a long glance.

“I know you’re bored,” Yeosang’s soft voice mutters. “But you still need a day or two of resting before your rib will properly set. The more you move, the longer I’ll keep you here.”

He finishes the last sentence with a smirk tugged on the edges of his lips. It wasn’t a threat - more of a good natured jab. You had grown used to both San and Yeosang’s mannerisms and way of speaking over the past half week. They were your only company besides the daily check-in from Hongjoong.

The leader popped in every evening before you went to sleep. You were unsure of his motive, but you figured he wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything dangerous.

For the remainder of the following four days, the two healers do everything they can to keep you entertained. They aren’t always available, since they both still have duties to attend around camp, but they do all they can. San captivates you with stories of his childhood and of the other boys. He’s a fantastic story teller. His expressions are silly and his tone is excited as he recalls adventures of his youth.

Yeosang is a little more quiet, but you don't mind. The two of you often sit in silence with a book open in each of your laps. If Yeosang has deemed your behavior well enough - meaning you haven’t attempted an escape that day - he’ll read his book aloud. His voice is deep and mellow. It washes over you in a restful calm, sending shivers down your spine and heat to your cheeks.

You don’t speak much to either of them. Other than a few miscellaneous phrases, you’re mostly silent. Neither seem to mind, however. In fact, Yeosang seems grateful for the quiet for once. Most of the talking is done by San, who murmurs excitedly as he completes your daily check-up.

Though you try not to, you’ve grown quite fond of the two healers. It took you by surprise on the eve of the third day when you naturally turned to wait for Yeosang to arrive to start your evening reading session. It’s a strange feeling that you’ve only experienced perhaps twice before.

The notion scares you. Attachment only leads to pain. In the past, every person you’d cared for had left; whether by force or by their own doing, they all left.

It’s too quickly for you to become attached to either of these men. But as San’s happy, honeyed filled voice cheers about his day and Yeosang’s deep, gentle one fills the silence, you can’t help it. Both boys have treated you kinder than anyone has in your entire life, aside from Yunho, of course. They change your bandages without asking and soothe your grunts of pain when you attempt to suppress them.

Yeosang even gently wiped down the material of your mask once when you were nodding off to sleep. In the past, you’d never been able to sleep comfortably with others in the room. You were too paranoid of what they’d do in your sleep. It had happened before.

But after the first two nights, Yeosang started to stay until you’d dozed off. He’d continue to read until you couldn’t keep your eyes open for another moment. Then his hands would shut his book so quietly and carefully pull the sheets up to cover the rest of your body. On the fourth night, Yeosang tenderly rubbed a damp cloth along the side of your mask to clear it of any debris.

You nearly cried.

The mask had been nothing but the birthplace of anguish for so long. People looked upon it with sneers and hatred. “Filthy, gray mutt,” they’d hiss as you walked by.

But Yeosang had never looked at you with such contempt. His eyes never lingered on the mask, nor did they scrutinize its presence. Instead, he softly cleaned it, as if he thought it was important to you.

It’s on the morning of the fifth day that San helps you to your feet. The three of you practice walking back and forth across the medical wing for the day. Though you don’t necessarily need it, as you’re able to suppress the ache, you still walk gingerly at San’s side. You approach Yeosang who’s eyes don’t leave your form. He knows you’re good at masking the pain, but he still tries to keep an eye out for visible discomfort.

“Great job, Bug!” San croons happily as you cross the room for a final time. The praise makes your body hum and your cheeks warm.

On the sixth day, Hongjoong calls for you.

You’re nervous beyond belief when Yeosang relays the message. You knew this moment would come. There had been a sneaking suspicion in your mind that Hongjoong’s nightly visits may have been to assess your healing. You had figured that as soon as you had enough strength, he’d send you away from his camp.

You wished you had more time.

Though you hadn’t known them long, San and Yeosang had handled you with such care. You didn’t want to leave.

And Yunho.

You’d only just gotten him back. He'd only appeared in the medical wing once when you were awake, but he visited every night after you’d fallen asleep. His hands gently brushed against your skin. They savored every moment of contact that he’d been so deprived of. His finger gently intertwined with the strands of hair that twisted against a clump of his. The rings clicked as his finger twirled the pieces.

He couldn’t believe you'd kept it, let alone interwoven them with a lock of his hair. The silver rings shone against the light of the full moon, so small in his hands. He still remembers when they’d been cut from him. Soldiers were pulling at his body, dragging him from the arena with the sounds of your cries filling his ears. When the blade passed over his forehead, he hadn’t flinched. Yunho’s eyes were too focused on yours as you both struggled against your captors.

There’s still a faint scar just above his left eyebrow from the wound.

San is the one to escort you to Hongjoong’s chamber.

With only the moon in the sky to guide your steps, you trudge slowly down the cavern’s long hallways. They wind through the cave with open skylights letting in the sine of the moon. Cool night air brushes against your skin, allowing goosebumps to form under the surface.

When you reach his door, your heart thuds loudly in your chest. You're rubbing your fingers together in an anxious manner and counting your heartbeats like you’ve practiced.

San’s eyes scan your body once more, taking note of your nerves before he reaches a hand out. You barely flinch when they reach for your hand. The past week had taught you that San was extremely physically affectionate. He was patient with you, retracting slowly when you flinched and backed away. Even so, he’d helped you learn to anticipate his touch throughout your checkups. You still blanch at the touch, but at least there’s less violent memories thrumming in your mind. His fingers gently grasped your wrist, pulling your fingernails away from where they’d been peeling at the cuticles.

“Hey,” San whispers. “It’s going to be okay, Bug. I promised, right?” Over the words, there’s two gentle squeezes of your hand. Then the dark haired boy draws his pointer finger from your wrist to your palm in a single line. The faintest of grins reaches your lips.

You’d taught San the word on one of the days you were feeling less verbal. Well, more than usual, you suppose.

Promise. Two short squeezes, and a line drawn from the wrist to the palm, directly over the pulse.

San had been so excited to learn the word. He'd taken to using it whenever the two of you departed from each other. You'd found it a little silly, but the sunshine filled smile on the boy’s cheeks made it hard to resist.

With a heavy nod and a long glance, San drops your hand and turns to descend back down the hallway from which you came. And with another deep breath, you raise your hand to knock on the door.

From inside the room, Hongjoong sits at his desk, scribbling at a piece of parchment. He raises his head at the knock. At this point, Hongjoong can tell who is at his door by the way they enter the room. Each of his partner’s has a different knock. Though some of them - he won’t say names, choose not to knock and instead invite themselves inside.

From the hesitation, Hongjoong can tell it’s you at his door and not one of his lovers.

“Come in.”

Slowly turning the door handle, you quietly make your way into the room. Your eyes are on your feet and your back is pin straight. Steps calculated, you reach the front of his desk before stopping and placing your feet shoulder width apart. Your arms are drawn behind you, hands linked at your back. With your shoulders back and stance strong, Hongjoong can tell this is how you've been trained to stand. He’s seen other soldiers assume this stance when speaking to their superiors.

Although, the other soldiers he’d trained kept their heads forward, with their gazes focused ahead.

You, however, keep your eyes on the floor. Your head is bowed submissively and your neck strained forward, almost as if you’re offering the weakest part of you for slaughter if he commanded it.

Hongjoong shivers at the thought.

He hesitates before speaking as if he were still a commander, “At ease.”

For a second, neither of you move. Hongjoong watches as the slightest tension in your shoulders relaxes before you’re frozen again. You don’t adjust your stance, and you certainly don’t shift positions.

Hongjoong slightly shakes his head. He wonders what it will take for you to let go. You’re still tense, unbelievably so. There’s tightness in every muscle in your body, as if you’re ready to spring for an exit. He knows you won’t.

The silence in the room continues for what feels like an eternity.

Then Hongjoong moves. He stands from his seat and makes his way to the front of the desk. Leaning against the wood, Hongjoong puts his hands on the desk behind him and rests his weight on them. He scrutinizes you again with piercing eyes before he sighs.

A hum leaves his throat. “San and Yeosang have told me you’re progressing well.��

You don’t respond, you’ve learned not to.

Hongjoong waits for a response - even just a nod of your head or a sound of agreement, but nothing comes. He knows that you harness a kind of apprehension for authority figures, but he had no idea the suffering pierced this deep.

After another beat of silence, Hongjoong sighs.

“I’m not going to banish you.”

The words wash over you in a wave of relief. You manage a shaky sigh, one that causes your lungs to jolt as you breathe. However, you don’t let his words fool you. You can hears the hesitation in his words, there’s an exception he hasn’t uttered.

“At least I don’t want to,” he continues. He taps his finger against the wood beneath him as he thinks. “Yunho has told me what he thinks has happened. But I can’t trust a simple guess.”

You remain still.

“Yunho’s faith in you doesn’t change the fact that Seonghwa found you on the outskirts of our territory covered in blood and grime, with life-threatening injuries. I don’t know what you’d done before that point, but it’s obvious you took down your share of soldiers in the fight.”

Hongjoong leans forward as he speaks, trying to meet your gaze. “You’re a skilled fighter, that I can tell without Yunho’s insight. It’s because of that - I can’t trust you not to hurt the members of my clan.”

Another deep sigh sends a jolt of accustomed pain through your chest. You’re tempted to shift on your feet, but you hold your body still and unmoving. He hasn’t finished. You know there is something Hongjoong wants - he wouldn’t keep you waiting like this otherwise.

“Unless-” Hongjoong continues. “Unless you can tell me what happened that night.”

For the first time since you entered the room, your head lifts from its bowed position. Ever so slowly, you raise your gaze to meet Hongjoong’s. The man is leaned forward, his dirty blond hair resting gently against his neck and his sword still strapped to his hip. The blood red jewel glows ominously in the dark.

When your single eye meets the two of his, there’s a moment where scars clash. Hongjoong’s left eye has a clean, white scar stretching from forehead to cheek. It’s not deep enough to affect his sight at all, but the scar sends a reminder of stinging pain through the right side of your head. They’re different, the scars. Yet, perhaps not so much. Hongjoong has the courage to wear his scars uncovered. They sit exposed, for all eyes to see.

Yours remain hidden. Covered with a mask, hidden so deep you fear they’ll never come to light.

A beat of silence passes and you begin to naw on your inner cheek. If you told him the truth, would he believe you? Even then, would he consider it a good enough excuse to allow you to stay? Or would he be so horrified, that he’d order for your immediate execution? Too many possibilities race through your head and you’re unable to keep up with the speed at which your brain is running.

“Gray.”

Hongjoong’s voice isn’t malicious as he speaks the title, not like the others. Despite that, the name makes you flinch in a way Hongjoong hasn't seen before. You jerk violently back into the submissive position you previously maintained: head bowed, neck forward. There’s a far away look in your eyes. It’s almost as if the name itself triggered your behavior, but Hongjoong can’t be sure.

“Tell me what happened that day.” It’s an order. You’ve been trained not to disobey.

So you do.

Another three days pass before Hongjoong allows you to join the rest of the clan outside.

After recounting the events that lead up to your exile, Hongjoong was silent. You didn’t tell him anything other than what he had asked for, so you were unsure if he’d understood you’re reasoning. However, the clan leader simply just nodded his head and dismissed you. The silence was deafening. It clawed at your brain and seeped into your skin, causing a layer of anxiety to make your skin itch.

You didn’t sleep that night.

Hongjoong sends Jongho to the medical wing in the morning with a message. He’ll allow you to stay within his clan as long as you agree to some of his terms. The first was that no harm was to come to any of the clan members. You couldn't have any of your weapons back for the time being, but when you were deemed trustworthy, you were not to turn against any of the boys.

The second was that you had to participate in camp duties once you were deemed healthy enough. You had no objections to either rule as they were not so different from those you were confined to previously. Heavy lifting and dirty work were not new experiences. You only hoped Hongjoong’s clan members were more forgiving. The memory of a whip bearing down on your back still stings. Scars both new and old twinge under your skin. The fabric rubs uncomfortably against those on your back, but you will never express it.

Jongho explained that Hongjoong would express the rest of his terms later that day, before he turned on his heel and left.

San had squealed in delight and shook his shoulders excitedly. “You did it, Bug! Joong-hyung is going to let you stay!”

Yeosang had nodded along with his partner’s words, a warm and genuine smile gracing his lips.

Then, another five days later, Yeosang clears you for participating in some of the lighter duties to be performed around camp. He tells you to hold off on heavy-lifting for at least another few weeks, fixing you with a firm glare as he does so. It’s a difficult turn of events. In the past, you were expected to take on most, if not all of the heavy tasks. The villagers had no regards to your physical or mental health, and skipping a task due to a broken rib would only result in fifteen or more lashings.

However, you’re beginning to trust San and Yeosang. You hope what they say is true, and you shouldn’t have to worry about tearing open stitches or cracking another rib.

For the past few days, you helped the two in the medical wing. You worked in mostly silence, organizing drawers and reading medical textbooks until your brain felt fuzzy. You were used to more physical labor: things like hefting heavy bags over your shoulders and lugging them to the other side of camp. Of course, you’d reach the edge of the territory before you were alerted you were given the wrong destination. Such a mistake had cost you fifteen lashes over your palms. The skin had split and it was difficult to continue with the rest of your daily tasks, but you wouldn’t be caught again - the second punishment was always less forgiving.

Over the course of the next few days, San helped you grow accustom to the layout of the camp. He guided you through the long winding hallways of the cavern and helped you learn the boundaries off the territory. He often paused, expecting you to need a break due to your injured state, but you simply fixed him with a confused look and motioned for him to continue. It seemed that your physical wellbeing didn’t matter much to you, San worried.

By the end of your fourth week in the camp, you had a decent layout of the territory memorized. San had helped you scout the borders of their territory, pointing out landmarks that marked the end of their land. You had been relived to find that their borders didn’t reach those of your old camp; you were more than happy to put as much distance between you and them as possible.

When the fifth week of your stay began, Yeosang allowed you to begin helping with physical labor. He hadn't said it aloud, but he expected San to keep a close eye on your activities. Based on your previous behavior, the two healers knew you'd jump directly into demanding tasks if given the opportunity. Your own physical well-being was often disregarded when it came to obeying orders, it seemed.

Neither of the boys wanted to imagine the scenarios that trained you to think such a way.

Yeosang had guided you outside the cavern as the sun rose. Though you no longer needed guidance through the tunnels, both Yeosang and San insisted leading you around. You didn't mind - even if they were doing so out of obligation - the two had become good company. Their presence didn’t require extra vigilance on your part. You often found yourself allowing a sense of calm to wash over you when in the same room as either boy. Though your guard was still raised, as always, the two men brought a sense of peace you’d never felt before.

Besides, neither boy was hard on the eyes.

“This morning, you can start helping Seonghwa-hyung and Wooyoung gather firewood - we’re running low on our stock, and Winter is going to start soon.”

Startled from your thoughts at Yeosang’s voice, you shook yourself of the morning haze. Meeting his gaze, you nodded a bit hesitantly. Though you had no issue with Seonghwa, you’d never met Wooyoung. You’d heard San speaking of him; he was clearly close with the other man, but you were unsure of meeting another member.

Seonghwa was gentle, as Yeosang and San were. He was obviously a warrior, with defined muscles and calm demeanor that suited a soldier. Fingers worn from the string of his longbow and forearms sturdy, Seonghwa was a proficient archer. His dark hair hung in front of his eyes, but his smile was warm underneath the fringe. Seonghwa was a bit quiet - reserved, maybe - but his disposition was nothing but gentle.

He'd sent you a warm smile, just the barest of upturned lips, before he shifted to reveal a second figure from behind his form. The man, who you assumed was Wooyoung, did not suit a similar look. Instead, his mouth was downturned in a frown that seemed reminiscent of a snarl.

He was muscular, Wooyoung. Thick thighs obviously toned with years of training and tense biceps revealed his strength. The length of his hair just brushed the bottom of his neck, split into two colors. The top half was a dark black, as Seonghwa’s was. However, the bottom was a bright blonde that reminded you of beams of sunlight on an early morning. The top half was tied back into a messy ponytail to avoid obscuring his vision.

If it weren't for the glare he fixed you with, you’d have trouble tearing your eyes from his form. It seemed all the men in this camp were attractive beyond belief. Wooyoung’s honeyed skin and sharp jawline had your eyes lingering, before you tore them away to meet Seonghwa’s gaze.

Shifting on your feet, an anxious pit in the bottom of your stomach reemerged. Wooyoung was nearly radiating hatred. Setting your shoulders back, you allowed your features to drop into a look of practiced calm. The motion was easy. Years of training and punishment made it all too simple to drop back into an appearance of apathy.

Seonghwa nearly grimaced. As a skilled bowman, his eyes were that of a hawk. Nothing escaped his gaze - not the tension in your shoulders, and certainly not the subtle shifts to apathetic nature. He was trained to notice the slightest of movements, even the changing of breathing patterns was noted by Seonghwa.

He’d been delighted to watch the progress you’d made with San and Yeosang. Your jaw had slowly begun to unclench and your shoulders were beginning to loosen in their presence. When he’d visited the medical cavern, Seonghwa even noticed the subtle changes in your breathing. At first, each inhale matched each exhale in a motion of practiced control. They were nearly identical in every way: length, depth, strength - everything. For reasons Seonghwa couldn’t imagine, you’d trained yourself to breathe in such a controlled manner that it didn’t appear you were breathing at all. The movements of your chest were nearly indecipherable when you breathed.

However when he visited the medical cavern and San was entertaining you with stories of his mischief, the pattern changed. Each exhale was no longer timed, and your chest clearly rose and fell with each breath. The notion brought a warmth to Seonghwa’s chest that he couldn’t describe.

San and Yeosang were not hard to like. Seonghwa was more than glad you’d taken to at least a few members of their group. The fear in your eyes when he’d first seen you awake, was a look Seonghwa did not want to see again.

Seonghwa could only hope today wouldn’t ruin any of the progress you’d made so far. The grovels that left Wooyoung’s lips as they maneuvered the tunnels this morning, furthered Seonghwa’s worry.

“Good morning,” Seonghwa gently murmured. His voice was soft, but his eyes were kind, so you gently returned the statement with a nod.

Wooyoung did not speak.

His jaw only tightened, and he looked away. You know not to instigate him. The wrath of angered clan members had already left you with more than a fair few scars.

Yeosang shared a knowing look with Seonghwa. The two communicated something wordlessly, before Yeosang turned back to you.

“Will you be alright? You can always come back to help San-ah and I, if you want.”

A scoff leaves Wooyoung’s lips. It’s coupled with a roll of his eyes as he turns to look the other way. The gesture feels too familiar.

You shake your head.

“Okay,” Yeosang mutters.

He makes his way over to Seonghwa and leans into his space to whisper something under his breath. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

It’s addressed to Seonghwa only. His voice was hushed enough for the two-toned boy to miss. They’re speaking about him, Wooyoung knows, but he chooses to keep his mouth shut for now.

Seonghwa nods, understanding Yeosang has similar worries. He then gestures for you to move towards him. You do so cautiously, footsteps light and ready to flee at any moment. They haven't returned your swords yet, so the odds of you beating Wooyoung on strength alone is low. His body emanates strength, as Jongho’s did. If he wanted to hurt you, you’d only be able to hinder him, not stop him.

Breaking tension, Seonghwa speaks. “We’re headed to the eastern border this morning. There’s a dense patch of woodland that way - we should be able to gather enough firewood for a few weeks worth.”

You nod, indicating your agreement. Seonghwa knows you don't often offer verbal answers, so he smiles gently and motions for Wooyoung to take the lead.

You cast a single glance over your shoulder at Yeosang as you make your way out of camp, and catch a glimpse of dark hair appearing from a nearby tunnel as you turn the corner.

The three of you walk for a little over half an hour before you reach the woodland Seonghwa had mentioned. He leads you into the trees, moving as though he’s done so many times before. Seonghwa has taken the leadership role of your little trio, obviously having scouted excursions like this before.

When you reach a sunny clearing another fifteen minutes later, Seonghwa stops. He nods to Wooyoung, who returns the gesture. The younger man pulls a large wood-axe from over his shoulder and you tense. It’s almost unintentional and you manage to suppress most of it, but the anxious thought still passes through your head. They’d led you miles away from camp and given you no weapons to defend yourself; it was an excellent set up for an execution.

However, before you can move, Wooyoung sighs and disappears into the woodland to your right.

“He’ll be back in a minute,” Seonghwa soothes. “Wooyoung-ah will bring back a log for us to split. ‘Sang-ie doesn’t want you swinging an axe over your head just yet.”

A slightly longer exhale indicates your relief. Seonghwa understands your hesitance to Wooyoung’s presence. He hasn’t exactly been inviting, after all. Seonghwa hopes you’re a little soothed by his company, at least.

Seonghwa’s dark hair falls in front of his eyes as the wind rustles the trees around you, The scent of pine needles and fresh air fill your senses. A deep breath sweeps through your lungs and the smell of nature brings a feeling of calm to your otherwise chaotic thoughts.

You lean your back against the rough bark of a pine tree. Seonghwa smiles again. His lips are full and he doesn’t show his teeth, but the pink skin of his mouth looks soft and inviting.

With dark eyes full of warmth, Seonghwa reaches for a holster on the side of his hip. He pulls out a worn hatchet and holds it out to you. The leather handle is beginning to peel, but the blade is still sharp. It’s obviously a well-used tool.

“I can trust you with this, yeah?”

You make sure to meet his eyes when you grasp the outstretched handle. Nodding firmly, you move slowly to make sure he knows you won’t hurt him. You crouch and set the hatchet on the ground at your feet.

Fiddling with the feather of an arrowhead he’s pulled from his quiver, Seonghwa fills the silence.

“When I found you,” Seonghwa starts hesitantly, “You had two swords - katanas, I think.”

A nod follows.

“How long have you trained with them?”

Not wanting to answer verbally, you continue balancing on your heels and grab a stick from the debris beneath your feet. You brush some twigs away to clear some pine needles and draw the number ‘eighteen’ in the dirt.

“Eighteen years?” He asks.

Another nod.

Seonghwa hums and sends you another gentle smile. “I’ve been training with my bow for about that long too.”

While you wait for Wooyoung to return, Seonghwa continues to ask little questions. He doesn’t seem to mind when you don’t answer verbally, which you’re grateful for. The dark haired boy is delighted that you respond to his mindless questions regardless. It sends a beat of warmth down his chest to see you a little more relaxed. The tension hasn’t left your shoulders, nor has the apathetic look left your face. However, your breaths are uncontrolled. Each inhale no longer matches each exhale, and they instead are deep and calm.

Seonghwa understands why San and Yeosang have taken to you so quickly.

Though reserved, you make good company in the silence. You listen to each story as Seonghwa rambles; your single eye never leaving his form. Your attention is undividedly on him. The mask covering the right half of your face does not discourage him. Though, he can see the irritation of skin underneath it. He knows you won’t take it off - Yunho had mentioned you don’t even take it off when alone. Perhaps, you’ve grown used to it.

A rustle of leaves to your right, breaks both of your attention. Seonghwa stands, ready to move to aid Wooyoung in luging a heavy log into the clearing. You move to follow him, before you hesitate.

The footsteps are quiet.

Each step towards the two of you is deliberate and slow. They’re placed hesitantly to reduce the cracking of twigs underfoot.

Whoever is approaching the two of you isn’t Wooyoung.

You can't see the shape of the person approaching, but they're clearly larger than Wooyoung. The steps are too heavy. Wooyoung doesn’t linger when he walks, he’s too headstrong to hesitate as this person does.

When the sound of a bow being strung fills your ears, you’re already moving.

You don't think as you dive for Seonghwa, who’s begun approaching the sound. With a grunt, you grab him by the waist and push him to the floor just as an arrow hits the tree behind the two of you. Its’ trajectory would have impaled you at the throat had you not moved.

Seonghwa huffs as you two hit the floor. He’s startled, releasing a shout. At first, he thinks you may be taking the opportunity to escape. However, when the distinct thud of an arrow meeting wood hits his ears, he’s aware of the danger.

Your body is over his, covering his unprotected back. Seonghwa is again caught off guard. At the first sound of danger, he had assumed you would instinctively protect yourself. However, you had immediately jumped for him. He's filled with warmth for a moment at the gesture, before he’s brought back to the intensity of the situation.

The bow is strung again.

Seonghwa rolls, shifting his weight over yours. He pins you to the dirt this time and ducks as another arrow flies overhead. You let yourself go limp, allowing Seonghwa to maneuver your body so that he has the ability to cover the both of you. Your skin is warm where it meets his. Scarred flesh rubs against empty skin, and you suppress a shiver.

You look helplessly at the hatchet laying feet away. It had been abandoned when you dove for Seonghwa. Now it lay there, mocking you. Seonghwa looks frantically from the woods behind your heads to you. His teeth are gritted and his jaw is clenched.

Seonghwa shifts the two of you again, hiding your bodies behind the shape of a fallen tree. Two more arrows hit the other side of the log, intended for your skin.

“Wooyoung!” He cries out.

Pulling out his longbow, he presses his back against the fallen log and you do the same. Neither of you can get a good angle to peek out at the attacker. When Seonghwa tries, an arrow meets the wood where his head would have been if he hadn’t ducked.

With a curse, Seonghwa fiddles with the string of his long bow. The mask digs painfully into your skin and your heart races. Unable to help without a weapon, you simply look at Seonghwa. Your chest thuds and you can feel your heart beating in your throat, but the familiar feeling of battle does not frighten you.

Your eyes shift to the arrow that was first fired. It sits embedded halfway into the trunk of the pine tree you had rested against. It had been intended for you. When you glance at the other remaining arrows, a similar sentiment can be seen. Aside from the last arrow, which had been aimed for Seonghwa, each arrowhead appears to have been meant to meet your flesh.

When you flick your attention back to Seonghwa, there must be something lingering in your gaze. Seonghwa seems to understand your thought process, as he quickly glances at each of the arrows and then back at you.

He seems to know what you’re planning before you finish thinking.

The dark haired boy moves to lunge for your body, but you’ve already taken off.

Seonghwa cries out as you dive for the opposite side of the fallen tree. Your ribs twinge at the movement, but you ignore it. An arrow flies past your head. Continuing to move, you draw the attention of the attacker towards you. As long as you don’t stand still, your distraction should provide Seonghwa with enough time to shot the archer.

Another arrow wizzes past.

You dive for another tree. The thud of your body against the bark will definitely result in some nasty bruises later, but you don’t care. From this angle, when you peak around the side, you can catch a glimpse of the dark form of a man wearing all black.

Seonghwa won’t be able to get a good shot from his position. With the trees obscuring his vision, the man is nearly invisible to the dark haired archer.

Dropping to your feet, you grip a hefty stone in your hands. Turning it a few times, you take a few practiced deep breaths. It’s all too easy to relapse into this mindset. Battle is something familiar - something you don’t have to think about. Each motion is practiced and each act is deliberate.

But this time it's different.

Before, the only consequence of failure was your own safety. However, now Seonghwa is at risk of getting hurt for any of your careless mistakes. If you fail now, it’s not just your body on the line. Whatever you do next, relies on Seonghwa too. You have to trust that he’ll understand your signal.

You inhale. Five seconds. Exhale. Another five seconds.

You cry out.

“Seonghwa!”

Then, you’re lunging forward. The stone leaves your hands, thrown directly at the attacker in front of you.

In the next moment, two arrows are let loose from their strings. The first, hits the chest of the bowman in front of you. Before the stone could even hit the floor, Seonghwa had understood your sign. Without a view of the attacker, Seonghwa simply trusted your aim and fired where the stone would fall. Letting the arrow loose, Seonghwa lets out a hefty sigh of relief when the sound of arrow meeting flesh hits his ears.

Seonghwa had been startled at the call of his name. It’s the first sounds he’d heard leaving your lips, yet he’s already addicted.

The second arrow barely grazes the skin of the right side of your head before the arrowhead embeds into the tree behind you. You barely wince when the skin splits open. Blood drips down your face and into the edge often mask, but you don’t care.

Letting out another exhale, you immediately flick your attention to Seonghwa’s hiding spot.

Before you can move to ensure his safety, Wooyoung is breaking through the tree line. Having heard Seonghwa’s shout, Wooyoung had immediately taken off in the direction he’d came.

“Hwa? Seonghwa!” He calls.

Seonghwa doesn’t have the time to answer before you step out from your hiding spot.

When Wooyoung reaches the clearing, it’s you he sees first. Then, his sight shifts to the body of the bowman near his feet. His gaze shifts from worried to angry and his mouth curls into a snarl. His fists clench and the fingernails dig into his skin,

“You.”

It’s spoken with so much venom, that you’re frozen solid. The tone is too familiar. Too much of his body language is reminiscent of previous situations. Even despite the battle, you’re more afraid now than you were before. Something in his snarl and cold eyes sends a shiver down your spine and your heart into your throat.

Wooyoung lunges.

Seonghwa is just standing from his crouched position as Wooyoung pushes you into the dirt.

“Wooyoung, stop!”

The cry leaves Seonghwa’s lips. It does nothing to stop Wooyoung.

He has you pushed into the dirt, wrists pinned underneath his fists. The grip digs into your skin and you struggle underneath him. Despite all your training, you don’t match Wooyoung’s physical strength, so you struggle uselessly underneath him.

“This is your fault!” Wooyoung spits. “I knew this would happen!”

The words strike a chord. There was a similar phrase being spit in your face not so long ago. Your chest is both empty and overflowing at the same time. Suddenly, you’re not in the forest anymore. Instead, it’s a familiar territory that makes your blood run cold.

Before Wooyoung can do anything else, Seonghwa is there.

The older boy pries Wooyoung from your form, holding back his partner as he struggles in his grip. The two-toned boy is practically hissing as he wriggles in Seonghwa’s arms.

“Let me go!”

“No-” Seonghwa grunts. “It wasn’t her! Wooyoung, please!”

Their struggle barely reaches your ears. When you hit the floor, buried memories begin to resurface. Flashes of a whip against your skin cross your mind. Shouts and taunts of the name ‘Gray’ ring against your skull. Hands are gripping your skin and pulling at your clothes. There’s rope against your wrists and it pulls tight against the skin,

While Seonghwa struggles against Wooyoung, a hazy look falls over your eye. Your body is limp, but your manage to shift into a deep bow. Knees pressed into the dirt and hands following suit, you squeeze your eyes shut. The right eye stings painfully.

You’re barely breathing. Your mind is no longer connected to your body. Wooyoung’s words had sent you into a mindset you only fell into in dire circumstances.

Digging your head into the dirt, the mask painfully pushes into your forehead. Tears well in your eyes and you try to swallow them down as memories flash past in waves. Nausea rises in your stomach and the acid bubbles in your throat. There is no controlling your heart rate now, as it beats painfully in your chest. The sound of its thumping pulse rings in your eardrums.

Your left eye leaks a tear.

The right burns beyond belief. The massacred tear duct is unable to allow the tear through, so instead, a droplet of blood leaks down your cheek. When the tear duct is finally reopened from the force of your cries, it’s blood that drips down your face. It seeps out the bottom of the mask and into the dirt.

Choking back a sob you know will get you punished, you cry out.

“’M sorry!” The word is spit out in a sob. “I’m sorry! ‘S my fault - it’s my fault.”

You whimper the words into the dirt, chest heaving and sobs barely concealed.

Wooyoung stops his struggle at your words. He goes limp in his partner’s arms, shifting his attention back to you. Seonghwa follows, and the two boys are met with your limp figure in a deeply postured bow. The first words they’ve heard you speak are muttered into the mud. Your face is pressed into the floor and your entire body trembles. A choked heave leaves your lungs, and Seonghwa lets Wooyoung go with a furrowed look.

When the men shift, you freeze.

Your entire body goes rigid. A beat passes, and then you’re limp. You haven’t passed out, that much Seonghwa can tell. When he leans forward, you arms turn upward. Forearms exposed and turned towards the sun, Seonghwa can see the lashes that decorate the skin.

He winces at the sight. When he doesn’t move, your forearms are exposed further, and Seonghwa finally understands.

You expect him to hurt you.

The older boy looks back at his partner, but Wooyoung is quiet. His mouth it still pressed tight, but his eyes give everything away. They’re not surprised, but knowing. The scars at his wrists and neck sting painfully.

Seonghwa looks back at you.

“Gray?” He mutters softly.

The demeaning name echoes through your entire being.

Your body shifts at the unknowing command. Sitting back on your heels, you clasp your wrists behind your back and tilt your head back to the sky. In a position of weakness, the two men can now see the blood dripping from the bottom of your mask and down your neck.

When your head finally rolls back to offer your throat, both Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s eyes fall on a bright white scar that used to be hidden under the neckline of your clothes.

The white line crosses the length of your throat in a nasty scar. From one side of your neck to the other, a jagged scar sits at your jugular, and from your exposed position, it appears that you expect the two to add another to the count.

“Wooyoung.”

It’s stern. Seonghwa is serious now, words clipped and short,

“Get San as quickly as you can.” He addresses Wooyoung despite not turning to face him.

“No-” he cuts himself off, “bring Yunho too. Now.”

And Wooyoung takes off into the woodland behind him.

bonus:

seonghwa: so... are you like, seeing someone?

reader: uh, no. why?

seonghwa: idk, I feel like you should see a therapist or something

extra bonus :D

reader: are we fighting or flirting?

wooyoung: I'm literally pinning you the ground with my hands around your throat rn

reader: ...

reader: answer the question.

...

a/n: this hasn’t been proofread yet so idk if I like it but I’ll edit it later lol. sorry for all the woo biases out there (lol he’s one of my faves too) but we’re really going for that enemies to lovers type trope rn. anyway I hope y’all enjoyed! let me know if you want to join the tallest

next chapter

taglist: @verseoks @multilovee @jenduexie @slfmint @smallfrye @istgcyj @delightfulturkeypainteroaf @sanslostairpod @2504-life @hwas0ng @yourgalxy @exo-xing @rensunjun @flowrsforfun @justchaoticwhispers @gayliljoong @http-lovelyknow

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saurexhas · 3 years ago

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Love is Blind - Part 4

Time for couple drama! Nightmare doesn’t want anything to hurt his precious little moon, but how does said moon feel about the special treatment?

PS: Make sure you go to the end to find a special surprise that I’ll be doing for this series!

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Adjusting to blindness is never something you thought that you’d have to do, but it was the unfortunate reality you found yourself in. There certainly wasn’t a manual to it either, but you were managing thanks to everyone’s help. There were several days first spent on bedrest while you recovered from the initial incident, and it gave you a chance to come to terms with your fate and what your actions had brought. You still didn’t regret them though, because your sight was truly a small price to pay for Nightmare’s life.

That didn’t mean that the adjustment period was easy, and you probably would’ve succumbed to despair more than once if Nightmare hadn’t been by your bedside almost the entire time. Your bedroom was quickly turned into his temporary office, allowing him to continue his work and further his plans while offering you the reassuring touch of a tentacle that always lingered on your arm as proof of his presence.

When your partner was finally comfortable with the idea of you leaving your bed, it was… well, difficult would be putting it mildly. You never once realized just how much you relied on sight for almost everything. It took a day and a bit of you simply wandering around your room to not bump into everything, and even longer to actually be able to navigate by touch. Thankfully, nobody in the castle really cared about your appearance, so you weren’t judged by what clothes you were able to find and put on by yourself.

Your room was about the only place where you could safely be allowed to wander on your own at first. The castle was a confusing labyrinth of pathways and corridors that were already difficult to navigate. Attempts to explore the castle in the past had led to you almost getting lost in some abandoned part of the castle, so there was no way you were even going to try such now. But even the areas that were once familiar to you were now alien as you relied on sound and touch to guide you instead of the sense you so heavily relied on.

For the first while, Nightmare personally escorted you on any walks outside of your room. This was mostly to and from meals, a time where you could practically feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you. Your seat had also been moved towards the head of the table, just to the right of Nightmare. The dark god claimed that it was so that he could assist you should you need help with your meals. Killer was quick to point out how any of them could help you though, teasing that the real reason was simply to stick next to you like “an overprotective boyfriend”. According to Cross, the look on Nightmare’s face had been one of pure murder… even if everyone at the table knew that the idiot was right.

One thing that Killer also nailed was how protective your boyfriend suddenly was. Gone were the days of you having free reign over the castle. Instead, in the instances where he couldn’t personally escort you, one of the others was chosen to be your guide instead. Even as you grew more comfortable heading to the areas you often frequented, the rule didn’t let up. He’d also put a stop to any training or sparring plans you might’ve had, insisting that it was too dangerous to continue when you couldn’t see an attack coming.

While you understood that he did it out of love, that didn’t change how frustrating it was. You already couldn’t read, play cards, or even really cook, the last of the three likely being on the dark god’s ban list had there not been enough obvious difficulty to deter you. Sparring with the guys, while rough, was one of the only hobbies you had left, and you trusted that none of them would seriously hurt you. But Nightmare refused to listen to any arguments you put forward, and none of the others would entertain the idea for fear of their lord’s wrath.

So on top of learning to navigate a world of utter darkness, adapting daily chores to your new limitations, and being treated like you were fragile, you were utterly bored. And as days turned to weeks, your frustrations grew. You were used to everyone simply treating you as one of the crew, albeit one that Nightmare favoured. When you first arrived here, you had to fight for your right to remain and not be turned into dinner. The others had respected you for the most part, and if you wanted to engage in any of their usual antics, they didn’t hesitate to include you. Now though, everyone seemed intent on treating you as if you were some doll, one to be sat on a shelf and never touched. Everyone was suddenly afraid of hurting you, and you were no longer one of the crew. You were something else, above the others now that your relationship with the god of negativity had gotten out. Pyre had even stated that if Nightmare was their king, then that made you their ‘queen’ in a sense. Suddenly, you were set to be a ruler over the dark god’s future empire, and everyone’s views of you shifted because of it.

One choice, one that seemed so infallible before, had turned your whole life upside down. You expected to be injured in place of Nightmare, but not blinded. And while trying to deal with such a severe change of lifestyle, you were now being placed on a pedestal and nobody would treat you the same. Part of you wanted to take your frustrations out on the nearby wall, but that would likely only bring someone running to tend to your hand as if it were broken. No, you needed to go to the source of the problem.

While navigating the halls by yourself was more difficult than you could’ve ever guessed, it was made easier by your forethought to create a mental map through touch whenever you were being escorted about. The subtle change in the sound of your footfall let you know when you’d left the solid foundation of the hall your bedroom was on in favour of the landing for the grand staircase. Following the railing with your hand, you found where the hallway changed directions. To go downstairs would take you to the common room and the kitchens, while upstairs led to the library and Nightmare’s office. With your goal upstairs, you carefully shuffled along the steps, shoving your foot forward until it came in contact with the next. When your feet slid freely along the floor and the railing straightened out, you knew that you’d made it to the third floor where you’d find your partner.

After a bit of difficulty gathering your bearings and navigating the third floor of the castle, you came to Nightmare’s office. The door was open only a crack, enough to give others the hint to leave him be while allowing him to hear if any chaos should erupt from the lower levels. Ever so slowly, you pushed the door open, only to cringe as a painfully loud squeak of the hinges alerted your boyfriend to your presence. “MC? What are you doing up here? Whoever brought you here should know that I didn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“Oh, nobody brought me here, I came up here myself. Wasn’t that hard,” you shrugged, lying a bit at the ease of which you got here but determined to make the dark god see that you weren’t helpless. “We need to talk.”

A sigh emanated from Nightmare’s direction, and you could imagine how he was pinching the bridge of his nose as he often did when annoyed or frustrated with something. “First off, I thought I made it clear that you are to have someone escort you around the castle to minimize accidents. And secondly, can whatever conversation you want wait? I have plenty of-”

“No actually, it can’t,” you cut him off, mustering your confidence as you stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind you. “I need to talk to you now, not later.”

Being unable to read his body language was frustrating, leaving everything to your imagination with no way to know if you were interpreting things correctly. You knew that he didn’t like taking orders from anyone, not even you, leaving you to wonder if the silence was due to your demanding tone. Perhaps you should’ve worded things better, but before you could worry too much, Nightmare responded to your demanding request. “Very well, for you little moon, I will make time. Please, take a seat and share what’s on your mind.”

It took every ounce of focus you had to find one of the plush chairs on the other side of his desk, sinking down into it once you found it and being thankful that you didn’t have to fumble around too much. It wouldn’t do your argument for more independence any good if your actions showed a need for more support. “Alright…” You’d thought long and hard about how to get your point across to someone as stubborn as your partner, but now that you were here, it was almost a struggle to get your thoughts out cohesively. “I… I’m tired of everyone treating me differently ever since the incident, including you.”

“My dear, I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“Yes you have!” Forcing a breath through your nose, your efforts to calm your temper are marginally successful as your unintentional fists relax and grip the arms of the chair. “Everyone is treating me like I’m suddenly delicate, like I’m unable to take a punch or take care of myself. True, it’s been hard to adjust to being blind, but I’ll never get better at accepting things if you all keep coddling me!”

“No one is coddling you!” Nightmare growled in return, his voice growing more agitated as he tried to argue against you. “The others are simply doing their part to ensure that you can rest and heal in comfort!”

A growl built up in your throat as well as your partner continued to deny your claims, your fingers digging into the chair to keep them in place. “That comment brings up another thing. Ever since our relationship got out, everyone’s been treating me as if they’re serving me, like I’m something special that needs to be protected.”

“That’s because you are, little moon. You are my chosen partner, and you knew from the beginning that the title would carry some weight. I am a god my dear, and the ruler of any mortal within this castle. But you’re no longer some random mortal. Now you stand beside me, equal to me in power and authority. They have merely been instructed to show you the same respect and care that they show me.”

To hear it spelled out like that, like it should’ve been obvious to you from the beginning, left a lump in your throat. Was this always what would happen to you? Were you doomed to be lonely up at the top with nobody but the god of negativity himself to be your supposed equal? “I… I-I don’t want that…” Your words came out mumbled, eyes burning as your damaged tear ducts tried and failed to produce any tears. When prompted to speak up, you were practically screaming. “I don’t want that! I don’t want to be so… so alone! You might be fine with being above them, but for the longest time, they treated me as a friend! Now, it’s as if our friendships meant nothing, whenever I reach out all I get is coldness. I want to be able to joke and play around with Killer, I want Butcher to call me names and tease me! I want Pyre to rattle on about how great he is, or to spend time reading with Dust! I want to be able to go up to Cross, hug the stupid fluffy marshmallow, and not have him feel like a freaking statue!”

Your yelling left you short of breath, your chest heaving as you calmed down from your emotional tirade. For a while, your heavy breathing was the only sound echoing in the room, shoulders eventually shuddering as tearless sobs broke from your throat. Your own arms wrapped around yourself, as if trying to keep yourself from truly falling apart. What you weren’t quite expecting though was for a pair of cool, slimy arms to join them as Nightmare hugged you as well, the god having moved around the desk while you were distracted with your own emotional turmoil.

“I’m sorry little moon,” he started, one hand gently petting your hair while a tentacle took to stroking up and down your back in a soothing manner. “I grew so used to my underlings being just that, and I never considered what your views on the matter would be. Let me make this clear though, they treat you special because you are special. No other entity in the entirety of the multiverse has made me feel an emotion as positive as love since my childhood five hundred years ago. While many of the worlds out there fear me, and even those that serve me do well to avoid angering me, you had no such hesitation my dear. As we grew closer, you grew bolder. You would speak your mind freely, even if to criticize my actions or leadership. While it was downright infuriating at first, I grew to respect your courage and tenacity, but also the fact that you accepted me for who I am and not what I once was several lifetimes ago.”

As he spoke in such a calm and soothing voice, you felt your breathing settle as you snuggled into his chest. After he paused for a bit, Nightmare’s tentacles quickly scooped you up into the air, allowing him to settle in your chair and place you on his lap. The comforting gestures continued, serving to keep you calm without the use of his abilities. “You are special MC, never forget that. But also remember that you are my partner, and I will see you treated with the same respect as I receive, nothing less.”

You couldn’t help but tense at his words, about to go off again about how that flew in the face of your wishes. But before you could reiterate the entirety of your emotional rant from before, he shushed you with a gentle finger against your lips, and you could practically hear him smiling through his voice. “Your voice is as powerful in this castle as my own, and if things are not to your liking, then let your voice be heard. They are so used to hearing my voice that those idiots assume your voice will speak the same requests… even I made that poor assumption, and for that I am sorry. If you wish for them to treat you as they always have, then you need only tell them and I can promise you that you will receive what you ask for.”

“You… you mean it?” It seemed too good to be true, but Nightmare was often true to his word with you and the other residents of the castle. Still, it felt like it was too easy to simply ask for them to treat you as if you weren’t any different.

“Little moon, I swear it upon my name that you will be treated as you wish to be in this castle.” The dark god nuzzled you a bit as he made his promise, pulling a soft giggle from you despite the dry feeling in the back of your throat. It wasn’t often that you shouted so much, and you were definitely glad that you closed the door on your way in.

Deciding to push your luck a bit, another request found its way onto your tongue. “Then… if I asked you to stop forcing me to have an escort everywhere, would you respect my wishes?”

“MC, you know that I am just doing that to protect you-”

“Night, we’re in your domain, aren’t we? You know everyone who enters and leaves, making this castle literally the safest place for me. I’m getting better at navigating without my eyes, and I really think that I’d be fine!” When he still didn’t sound convinced, muttering about potential accidents that could happen, you merely threw more options at him. “Look, I’m far from the first blind human. If you’re that worried about me bumping into something or falling down the stairs, then get me a… blind person stick? Cane? Or a seeing-eye dog! One that Butcher would definitely not eat!”

“Is… this your way of asking for a dog?”

“Not my intention, but I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did actually get me one that can help me.” Reaching up, you cupped his cheek with your hand, thumb rubbing just under his good eye. “I’ll never have the same freedom as I did Night, but I know that I can learn to live with the consequences of my actions. And don’t you dare blame yourself for what I decided was a good idea in the spur of the moment.” Even now knowing the consequences of your choice, you’d still make the same call a hundred times over again, enduring the pain each time, if it meant that you didn’t have to see the one you loved suffer.

The god of negativity must have felt your conviction, because he didn’t try to talk you out of it or turn the blame around to be on himself. Instead, he merely sighed as one hand came to hold the one on his face, pulling it away to place a skeletal ‘kiss’ against your palm. “Very well, it seems that you’ve convinced me. I seem to have chosen quite the precocious human as my mate, you seem to be naturally born for commanding and convincing others. From now on, you are free to roam the castle by yourself, on two conditions. The first is that we give you a means of contacting me directly, should you find yourself lost or injured alone. The second is that you will still accept an escort for any trips outside of the castle, no matter your past familiarity with whatever world. Do we have a deal?”

Honestly, Nightmare’s requests were completely fair and reasonable. While you did have your phone, it was still extremely difficult to navigate it, and you likely wouldn’t be able to use it reliably in an emergency. If your boyfriend had an alternative method, then it would be good to have the freedom to go wherever, but with the safety net of knowing that someone will come if you need them to. And as embarrassing as an escort might be outside of the castle, it was still smart. It took you quite a bit of time and practice to navigate the castle on your own, despite your past familiarity with it, and a new space would require such with the aid of someone who could see. There was also the fact that, now that your relationship was public, it was only a matter of time before one of the idiots that you called your friends would let word get out. Then, you’d have a target on your back, a weak spot to be used against Nightmare. It was honestly for the best if you didn’t leave the castle alone anymore, not with several capable fighters that could protect you. “Those requests both seem quite reasonable to me, so I accept.”

“Good, I am glad that you can see I only want what is best for you, my dear. Keeping you safe is just as important to me as my goals.” After a moment more of cuddles, he eventually set you back into your chair alone, his footfalls indicating that he was going back to his own behind his desk. “I’ll see to the creation of a totem of sorts, one made of my own magic. It will allow you to contact me and call me to your side, no matter where you are. Between this, and my assurance that you will be treated as you wish to be, have I dealt with the issue you came to speak to me about?”

“Mhm, I honestly feel a lot better too, so thanks. I can’t see it, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to get done. I’ll leave you be so that you can get it finished.” When he didn’t try to stop you, you got up from your seat and wandered back towards the door. Just as you opened it though to step back outside, you turned back and sent him a wide smile. “Thank you for being so understanding and accepting Night, I really appreciate it.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled as the sound of pen scribbling on paper echoed through the otherwise quiet room. “You go enjoy yourself my dear, I shall speak with you again at dinner.” With his dismissal, you left the door in the same barely open position that you originally found it in before heading back to the stairs. It was about time for you to do what Nightmare told you to do and make your voice be heard. Then maybe your friends would go back to how they used to be and stop treating you differently.

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Alright, so if you didn’t read my post earlier this week about getting you readers involved, you can read it here because I’m not repeating myself. (aka I’m lazy XD)

And since nobody commented on that post, it made it pretty clear to me that relying on Tumblr comments isn’t a good idea and that I should go with a poll website. So... here ya go!

https://strawpoll.com/634w9bq42

In the next part, Nightmare will be away running important errands, so MC will have to find some way to entertain themselves! Where they go is up to you, as are the result benefits from your choices. I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you all choose!

First | < Prev | Part 4 (Here) | Next >

#mc #x reader #nightmare sans #established relationship #tw blindness #mc doesn't like being treated like they're fragile #mc is honestly just trying to hold themselves together #depression not making an appearance this time but likely soon #is mc gonna get a puppy?#nightmare would totally get them a puppy #you better vote or I'll steal your kneecaps /j #seriously though please vote #you guys need to participate for this idea to work and be fun #it'll be worth it promise #saurex works

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queenofzan · 2 years ago

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idk just. the ableist assumption that disabled people are lying for no discernible benefit (apart from like...getting one over on able people i guess? which would be totally fair but has such a high likelihood of biting us in the ass that i wouldn’t risk it myself)

like. literally why would i lie about finding something confusing. why would i lie about forgetting something. why would i lie about something being exhausting and leading to me requiring bedrest. what possible benefits would make up for the way ableist institutions and people treat us upon learning any of this?

idk man, i wrote an entire essay right after i got back to school from having covid for five weeks about how i really needed time and patience to recover, and in response

they kicked me out of the program

so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years ago

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uhm can we get a hotch x reader with prompts 1 and 5 from the dialogue prompts list? whatever you want, gender neutral🥺 ily and your writings, if you're not ok with this request it's ok :)

aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader.

word count: 2019

rating: teen, for someone you love meaning more than anything else in the world, in moments just like these (tw: hospital scenes, car crashes, canon-typical violence. hurt/comfort).

Aaron finds himself pushing through glass double doors, rushing to the desk of the emergency room. It’s his nightmare come to life, his job as unit chief colliding with personal circumstances. It’s a horror and a nightmare, and when he makes it to the nurse who’s working, he speeds through his credentials to get him through the door.

But they don’t get him through the door. Nothing gets him through the door, and when JJ and Dave come in behind him, it’s to see his face crumple.

He should’ve been there, he should’ve seen it coming. The stop sign the two of you blew, chasing a suspect, the collision with a car who didn’t hear the sirens. He should’ve known, should’ve come sooner so he could be there for the both of you. But instead, what he got was a firm no from the nurse.

“You’re not next of kin. Until I get clearance, I can’t let anyone back there who is not directly related.”

Never mind that the team is your family. Never mind that you’ve been in Aaron’s life for what should be lifetimes. Never mind that the last time he saw you, it was to kiss your cheek, tell you goodbye, only for the chase to start…

“Those are two of my agents back there,” he bites out, and the words are a little strangled, even as he tries to keep his composure. “Those are two – two of my agents, and I need to see them. Please.”

A lesser person would be terrified by the fire in Aaron’s eyes. But the nurse does not back down. The sympathy in her gaze is clear, but she simply lifts her chin, meets those eyes with ease. “I’m sorry, sir. Someone will be out to discuss the situation shortly, and talk about procedure. Until then, if or when I get the word that visitors can come in, I’ll let you know.”

Emily and Reid come through a few minutes later, and Aaron looks up to watch them push to the same front desk. Their shoulders drop, just like his did, and when they turn it’s to see Dave and JJ beside their unit chief, the three of them… waiting.

“Anything?” Emily asks, and Aaron shakes his head, dropping his chin, elbows on his knees. All of the possible outcomes are filtering through his mind, from worst-case to best, and then back down to worst. Best, unscathed. Unharmed. Worst, unspeakable. Unnamed. Because he knows the truth can only fall somewhere in the middle, he forces the extremes through his head, if only to have something to occupy his thoughts.

“You’re driving yourself crazy, Aaron,” Dave whispers to him, when the others move to get food. It’s been two hours since the crash, two hours without a peep of news. “You have to focus on the positive. The first responders got there, to the both of them. They’re here, and they’re getting treated by capable hands.”

“Two hours, Dave,” Aaron returns, not meeting his friend’s eyes, blinking up at the sight of another set of double doors barring the path to you and Morgan. “We both know that it’s not that simple.”

Soon, the team returns, and the waiting seems to start all over again. Pacing takes up the time between no news and any information they can gather, listening, watching, and needling for anything about their loved ones. And each time those double doors swing open, a beep signaling the passage of someone who could give them answers, another name is called, another family pulled in to discuss the future of those they care about.

Aaron and his team have to wait.

Make calls to Jack and Jess.

And wait.

Calls to the precinct, to the sheriff, to the Bureau, to Strauss.

And wait.

It hits five hours when their messenger comes through. A world-weary physician, who blinks down at the chart and calls out your last name. Aaron stands, suddenly, and the movement makes him dizzy, but he ignores his body just to stride forward with the rest of his team, who gather around the doctor with the same pleading eyes, begging for good news.

“For Morgan, too?” he asks, and Aaron sees Dave nod beside him, sees JJ’s hands clasp together in front of her. “All right. My name is Dr. Roberts, I’ve been in to see both of them. We ran some cursory tests – CT scans, a couple of x-rays, and a full physical exam.”

“And what’d you find?” Emily pushes, and Aaron glances to her to see her thumb held up to her mouth, biting at her nails lightly.

“Well, they got lucky. The hit came to the back half of the SUV, which means that Morgan sustained minimal injuries and abrasions. A concussion, due to the impact, but that’s to be expected.”

There’s a sigh of relief from the team, but the waiting isn’t done yet. Need another cursory glance over the chart, the man before the team hums, and Aaron finds his patience wearing thin. “Doctor,” he urges, and when their eyes meet the battle of wills commences again. “The… the other agent. Please.”

This time Aaron wins out.

“Broken leg,” Dr. Roberts responds, sighing. “Sedation has been helping with the pain, but it’s fractured enough that we’ll need to put in some pins. As soon as the on-call trauma surgeon gets here, we’ll be in the operating room.”

“Can we see them?” Reid asks. “Both of them?” His voice is hopeful, and Aaron can’t help the way his hand lifts to rest on the younger agent’s shoulder when the doctor says yes. He can feel the tension leave him at the affirmation that they’ll be able to finally get back there, find you and Morgan, take care of you.

Together the BAU gathers their things to make their way through. When they make it to the door, ready to get led back, Dr. Roberts holds up a hand to stop them.

“A couple at a time. We’ll be going into surgery in around 45 minutes to an hour,” the doctor informs you. He looks at the group expectantly, numbered five. “Can’t have all of you in a room at once. Let’s say half in each room at a time.”

The team looks around at each other. In that moment, being the unit chief doesn’t matter nearly as much as being a part of the BAU, being folded into the tight-knit group, the unbreakable family ties. Aaron thinks about you, alone, and finds his jaw clenching.

“We’ll switch off,” he tells the group. “And when they take… when the surgery starts… we’ll take turns with Morgan until he gets discharged.”

Dave’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. The tension leaks from him, and he sighs.

“We’re still on a case. Those of us who aren’t waiting once the surgery starts need to keep on it.”

“Hotch –” Emily tries to argue, but with a firm look she nods.

“We can’t drop the ball on this. Morgan’ll tell us as much when we get in there,” JJ agrees, and Aaron looks to her with a tight smile.

“Dave, Emily, and JJ will go to Morgan.” That’s his final call. Their eyes fall on him, and he looks to Reid, who nods at the implication. “I need to make a call to Strauss, and then I’ll be in there to join you.”

When Aaron settles into the space next to your bed, he reaches for your hand immediately. Grimaces at how cold it feels, and finds himself holding it in both of his palms, just rubbing to bring blood, life, feeling back into it. Your eyes stay stubbornly closed, and though he knows the surgery went successfully, there’s a stillness that leaves him feeling… unnerved. You’re not meant to be still. You’re meant to be tapping your fingers against the sheets, pushing your hand through your hair, leaning close to him.

All he can see now is the rise and fall of your chest. The stiffness of your left leg, wrapped up and casted.

He squeezes your fingers again.

He doesn’t know what urges him to start speaking. But he does. Starts talking, and can’t find himself stopping. Reid isn’t there, the rest of the team is with Morgan settling your discharge information as well as his own. It’s just you and Aaron, and he sighs with his thumb pressed between the furrow of his brows.

He kisses your knuckles, and murmurs against them. It’s in time with the rhythm of your heartbeat, some sentences. Like your breathing is the bassline to his life. Maybe it is. And if it isn’t, maybe it should be.

“All this tells me is that I should marry you,” he says. “Not letting me in on a – on a technicality.” You don’t answer, you’re still asleep, but he can see you chuckle with it. “And you see, this is the part where you tell me you’re proud of me. I didn’t lash out at the nurse, or Dave, I just. Waited. Trusted in you to be there for me.”

The beeping continues. Steady. Strong.

“Morgan is okay. Don’t worry. Just a couple of cuts, some bruises. A concussion.”

He shakes his head. “He blames himself. He was driving after all. But I told him, I had to tell him, that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t believe me, or anyone else, but. We’ll work on it. And once you’re awake, you can tell him, too.”

Your eyes blink open, but Aaron doesn’t notice at first. His eyes are still focused on your fingertips.

“It scares me, knowing that this is our life. That this will always be our life. But I wouldn’t trade it, for anything.”

“Neither would I,” you hum out.

When he glances up to see you awake, it’s with a smile on your face.

“Hey, handsome,” you murmur. Your voice is weak, but light, gentle, and he can’t help but shake his head with a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting you when I woke up, too.”

“What do you mean?”

But you’re already drifting again, your thoughts running through your head and coming to the surface without much push. It’s the anesthesia, of course. You start shaking your head when you realize that one of your legs is stationary. Unmoving. “What happened?”

“Car accident. Your leg broke,” he tells you, and your frown is deep, lines around it emphasizing your displeasure.

“Well. I guess I’m on… bedrest, then. That’s… shitty.”

He laughs, despite himself, despite how much it aches to know that this happened at all, because of you. He smiles, and kisses your knuckles again, and leans close to kiss your forehead, because of all that he feels for you.

“Yes, my love. I would say so.”

“If I fell asleep again… would you be shirtless again?”

He blinks, shaking his head. Your filter is truly gone as you continue to rouse, and he smirks as you hum and do your best to move.

“Shirtless?” he dares to ask, and you nod.

“In my dream.” There’s a pleasant smile on your face, like you’re remembering something good. Something great. He laughs again. “We were in the office, and everyone forgot their shirts, and… and I asked you… ‘what – what are you doing with your shirt off?’”

Aaron can’t help his snort, shaking his head and bringing your hand up to his lips. You’re starting to doze off again, and so he pushes a little more, to let you go over the edge into dreamworld again.

“And?”

“And you told me that it was to impress me… and… convince me to stay in the BAU.”

Your words are starting to slur again, and he lets your hand rest against your body, still holding it, loose in his grip.

“Did it work?”

You hum, and your eyes flutter closed. “Honey… I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Your breathing starts to even out again, but that smile remains, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Rest well, my love. I’ll be here.”

“Shirt on?”

“Unfortunately. Now, rest.”

#prompt fill #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort #tw hospital #tw car crash #criminal minds #my fic

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melanielocke · 3 years ago

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Love will tie the Tourniquet

After some very valid criticism of the Sanctuary scene and the very limited canon Thomastair content I figured I’d write a scene where they talk it out and Thomas apologizes. I wrote this rather quickly and didn’t edit much so sorry for any mistakes.

Title is from “Tourniquet” by Breaking Benjamin which is definitely an Alastair song (although I find the lyrics difficult to interpret). I think it’s from the POV of someone who is struggling with something and realize love won’t fix them, but also believe nothing will. Love will tie the tourniquet and suffocate me.

CW for period typical racism and homophobia, implied PTSD, mentions of bullying

Alastair was surprised to hear someone knock on the door. His mother was still on bedrest and wouldn’t be receiving any visitors and certainly no one would want to see him. He opened the door to see Thomas Lightwood in the door, hatless as always, snow had fallen in his hair. Even covered in snow Thomas was a beautiful sight to behold. Alastair tried to stop staring, but wasn’t quite sure how. Why was he here, after everything? Alastair had taken his time to think through what happened, but had arrived at the same conclusion, it was impossible. In retrospect, he wasn’t even sure Thomas liked him that much. Like Charles, he probably just saw someone who could fulfill his needs. After all, Thomas had seemed quite disappointed when Alastair had refused to take things any further than kissing in the Sanctuary.

‘Good afternoon,’ Thomas said awkwardly after a silence. ‘Can I come in? I… I thought we should talk.’

A bit hesitant, Alastair let him in and took his coat. He asked Risa to make them some tea, and brought Thomas into the parlor.

‘What did you want to talk about?’ Alastair asked.

‘I wanted to apologize,’ Thomas said.

Alastair frowned. ‘Why? You have nothing to apologize for.’

‘I do,’ Thomas said. ‘I was angry with you because of that rumor, but that gave me no right to publicly humiliate you. I treated you terribly, and you didn’t deserve that.’

Alastair wasn’t sure what to make of this. It had hurt, badly, the way Thomas had spoken to him, but he’d told himself over and over again that this what he deserved.

‘Didn’t I?’ Alastair asked. ‘I was awful at school, perhaps less so to you, but still. I can’t imagine why you’d even want to be around me.’

‘Because I forgive you,’ Thomas said.

Alastair stared at him, eyes wide. He tried to hold back the tears, but wasn’t sure he could.

‘Why? Why would you forgive me? I thought you hated me.’

Thomas looked confused. ‘After the Sanctuary? After we kissed?’

Alastair sighed. ‘Charles kissed me many times, we did more than that, and he didn’t love me. He just thought I was convenient and I could fulfill his needs.’

It had been mostly about sex with Charles, and it had taken him so long to realize that it didn’t have to be like that. He’d given Charles everything he could, hoping that perhaps someday he’d receive love and affection back.

Thomas’ mouth fell open. ‘You… you thought I would be like that? That I only wanted you for physical intimacy? Why would you think that?’

‘What else was I supposed to think?’ Alastair snapped, trying but failing to hold back the tears. ‘You wanted to kiss me only moments after you said I deserved to be hated. And because I wanted you, because I love you, I gave in. You wanted to keep me a secret, you were ashamed of liking me, so ashamed you couldn’t tell anyone, not even people who would not mind that you liked men. Just like Charles.’

I couldn’t have told them how I felt about you. Thomas’ words echoed in his head, and it was worse than Charles being ashamed of liking men. At least he understood Charles’ fears, even when it did not justify how badly Charles had treated him.

‘I never meant… I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry, and I said some stupid things. But I don’t want to keep you secret. There were so many things I should have said to you then, and I’m sorry I messed it up so badly. You do not deserve to be hated and I should never have said otherwise.’

Alastair wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was desperate for affection, always had been, that was why he’d given so much to Charles, but how could he be sure Thomas wasn’t going to be the same?

‘Why not? Did I not cause you and your family terrible pain?’

Alastair was crying now and to his surprise Thomas came to sat down next to him, awkwardly putting his hands around him. Alastair pushed him away.

‘Please… please don’t.’

Thomas backed away as if he’d been burnt.

‘Physical affection isn’t easy,’ Alastair tried to explain.

He wasn’t used to hugging or even being touched at all in a non sexual way. Cordelia tried often to show her affection physically and he was grateful, but it just didn’t always work for him. Sometimes a touch could burn, be so overwhelming he only got worse.

‘What do you need?’ Thomas asked. ‘How can I help?’

‘Just keep talking,’ Alastair said. ‘Please. Tell me how you really feel. Be honest with me. If you… If you don’t really love me, it’s alright. I just need to know. Because I don’t understand anymore. Do I deserve to be hated? To be loved? I don’t get it.’

Thomas hesitated. ‘I was wrong. I was grieving and I was pushing these feelings away and I took it all out on you. But that was no excuse. You do not deserve to be hated, not when you regret what you did so much, and you do not deserve to be treated the way we… the way I treated you. And I’m so sorry. I think I do love you, I just never knew what to do with those feelings so I hid them. But I’m not going to hide anymore. I’m not ashamed of loving you.’

Alastair wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Are you serious?’

‘I told Christopher, and he took it well. Or, well, he said he already knew and was under the assumption everyone already knew and we just didn’t talk about it. And I told my parents and Eugenia.’

Alastair hesitated. ‘Did you tell them I like men?’

‘No,’ Thomas said quickly. ‘Just about me, and how I feel. And that I’d at least like to have you as a friend, even if you weren’t interested in more.’

‘And your family, they accepted you?’

‘They were very kind and supportive, although my mother did say I might be worse at this whole romance thing than my father.’

Alastair frowned. ‘What did your father do?’

Thomas laughed, and Alastair could only think how beautiful his laugh was, how it lit up his face. ‘As you know, my mother was a servant before she became a shadowhunter, and my father decided to regularly ask her for scones, which he doesn’t like, so he could see her when she brought them. He then hid them under his bed.’

Alastair burst out laughing. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he had no right to laugh about the people he’d brought such shame to, but at the same time he couldn’t imagine this happening. If Gideon Lightwood disliked scones so much, why not ask for literally anything else?

‘He also accidently blurted out his intentions of marrying my mother in her presence before he even proposed,’ Thomas added. ‘I’m not sure which part is worse, but it does make for good stories.’

‘I’d say the scones are worse,’ said Alastair, taking a sip from his tea.

‘You’re very beautiful,’ Thomas said suddenly. ‘When you laugh. Also when you don’t laugh, but I like seeing you laugh. You always seem so sad.’

Alastair looked Thomas in the eye. ‘Really? You think I’m beautiful?’

‘Of course I do, who wouldn’t? I love your hair now that you’ve dyed it back to black.’

Alastair felt the tears coming back, and Thomas looked startled. ‘Did I say something wrong?’

‘No, it’s just… No one has told me I’m beautiful. And no one has told me they like my hair. It wasn’t an easy decision to dye it back. I didn’t want to pretend to be something I’m not anymore, but I thought everyone preferred the blonde.’

‘I’ve always liked dark hair, and it suits you well. And I’m glad you’re more comfortable with it. I guess I have no idea what it’s like, to be judged for the color of your hair or your skin.’

‘That’s the second part of what happened at the academy, what I hadn’t told you yet,’ Alastair said sadly. ‘No one there looked like me. They latched onto the rumors about my father, of course but they also treated me differently for being Persian, made fun of my features, my language… I thought it would get better if I adapted more to what they wanted.’

‘Alastair, I’m so sorry,’ Thomas said, reaching out his hand as if to touch him, but retreating. He probably remembered Alastair’s warning, but right now he did want to be touched. Now he knew Thomas did care for him, even if he had an odd way of showing it sometimes.

So Alastair leaned into him, resting his head against Thomas’ chest. It was comforting to feel his chest rise and fall with his breath. Perhaps he did like to be touched sometimes, but only if the other person loved him. There were very few people who did, and Alastair wasn’t so certain if Cordelia loved him anymore.

‘Is this alright?’ Thomas asked, putting a hand around him.

‘It is. It’s actually nice. But Tom, how can we make this work, if your friends still hate me?’

‘Christopher doesn’t,’ Thomas said. ‘He is willing to give you a chance. All you have to do is help him out with his experiments, show some interest, and he’ll like you. Lucie is going to adore you, I’m sure of it. As for James and Matthew… I’m not sure, but they don’t get to decide who I like or don’t like. For so long I tried to hate you out of loyalty to Matthew, but ultimately that’s his issue and not mine.’

‘But what if you lose your friends because of me?’ Alastair asked. ‘I would never want you to lose people you love for me.’

Thomas put his hand in Alastair’s hair, and Alastair thought about how Thomas had said he loved his hair. He’d never considered someone might. Charles had certainly preferred his hair blonde. He had been the one to suggest dyeing it.

‘That would be their loss,’ Thomas said. ‘You deserve to be loved too, Alastair. I will tell James and Matthew when they get back, and if they decide not to accept it, then perhaps they’re not very good friends.’

Alastair was surprised to hear him say that. He’d thought the four boys were exceptionally close, the kind of friendship he longed for but never had.

‘That’s what my mother said,’ Thomas added.

Alastair frowned. ‘Do your parents know I spread that rumor? Surely they would not accept you pursuing me if they knew?’

‘I told them,’ Thomas said. ‘But my father said that when he was young, he’d done worse. He realized he was wrong and changed, uncle Gabriel too. He said it would be hypocritical to hold this against you.’

‘Really?’

‘So far they seem to like you,’ Thomas said. ‘And they are very grateful that you made sure to keep me safe. And… I am too. I never thanked you, but I should have. I am grateful that you put so much effort into protecting me. But please do not risk your life like that again. I would never forgive myself if you died trying to keep me safe.’

‘Only if you promise never to do something as reckless as those patrols again,’ Alastair said. ‘Someone had to keep you safe, and I certainly wasn’t going to let you die because of your own recklessness. Because I love you.’

They sat like that for a while, Alastair taking in the sensation of being held. He didn’t remember ever receiving such affection, and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

‘I’m not going to patrol alone again,’ Thomas said. ‘I promise.’

‘Then I won’t follow you as you patrol alone either,’ Alastair said. He paused. ‘I never expected you to come back for me. I never thought you could love me.’

‘I do. I loved you since Paris,’ Thomas said. ‘I mean, at school I liked you as well, but I thought you it was daring that you said whatever you wanted. I saw your sadness too, but not the real you. Not like in Paris.’

‘I certainly did not say whatever I wanted,’ Alastair said softly. ‘I said what I thought I had to so they wouldn’t hurt me.’

‘I can’t even imagine how badly they must have hurt you,’ Thomas said softly.

Soothing words eased some of the pain, but not all of it. Alastair wasn’t sure if it ever would. Love would tie the tourniquet. It might suffocate him. He would have to find another way to starve the pain within, if such a thing were possible.

‘You were treated badly as well, I’m sure you have some idea.’

‘Yes, but you were always nicer to me than to the others, and I think that shielded me from the others as well. Are you going to be alright, Alastair? I want to help you, but I’m not sure I know how.’

‘I have no idea,’ Alastair admitted. ‘But I’m going to try. You make me want to try. I have no idea how though.’

He knew he needed to get better, if he wanted this to work, to find a way to heal from everything that had happened to him. He knew he couldn’t depend on one person to heal him like he had with Charles, someone who had ultimately broken whatever was left of his heart.

‘Perhaps you could talk to uncle Jem,’ Thomas suggested. ‘If anyone can help with that, it’s him.’

Alastair hadn’t considered that. His cousin thought he hated him. He’d reached out once, back when Alastair had attended the Academy, and he’d pushed him away like he did everyone else. He wasn’t sure Jem would still be willing to help him after everything. But perhaps he could try. Perhaps it didn’t always have to be like this.

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #the last hours #tlh #chain of gold #chain of iron #tsc

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greetings-bloodfreak · 3 years ago

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merry christmas you filthy animals < 3 here’s a little tiny baby samcas christmas drabble as a treat since I can only write anything that isn’t my actual proper fic apparently. anywho, read it on ao3 here, happy holidays losers < 3

Sam sighed as he eased onto his bed, quickly rearranging his pillow to sit squarely behind his neck as he reached for the remote. It had been a long day full of questioning unusually spirited witnesses’ and spitting out tinsel after being thrown headfirst into a massive mall Christmas tree by a werewolf who’d embraced the Christmas spirit just a little too much. He’d assigned himself bedrest as soon as the duffle bag of books he’d used to double check case details had hit the map table, leaving Dean and Cas to their own devices.

He felt a little guilty now as he lay in bed mindlessly flicking through Netflix, not because he’d left them to unpack themselves (they’d done it plenty of times to him, it was only fair) but because he’d left Cas alone on Christmas, defenceless against whatever impish plans Dean had stored in his flannel sleeves. He briefly wondered if Dean would try and pull the whole ‘mislefoe’ debacle again, which last year had resulted in several split lips and a very confusing and awkward kiss on the cheek between Cas and Jody. Dean and Donna thought it was hilarious, and admititley Sam did too. Sam honestly couldn’t think of two people less likely to touch lips in any way than Cas and Jody. In fact just thinking about how Jody had given Cas the strangest little back pat after he’d dutifully kissed her cheek (‘It’s the rules,’ he’d said, ‘though I don’t understand why humans would want to have when they kiss dictated by a plant.’) had Sam smiling at nothing.

He glanced at his door. Maybe he should text Cas? Invite him in for a movie that wasn’t one of the too many die hards. Or love actually, not that Dean would ever admit to watching it, and with Jack conveniently questioning him about it after spending the day with Claire last weekend he’d never have to admit it. Right as Sam went to reach for his phone it buzzed.

From cas: Hello Sam, 🤗 I know you said you wanted to get some rest but Dean’s made some sort of themed drink and I think that it would be a pity if you missed out on trying it due to Christmas tree collision related exhaustion. 🎄😴🛌 Let me know - Cas 😇

While Sam was tempted to instantly text back yes, Dean still hadn’t gotten him back for spiking the eggnog what seemed like centuries ago. Still, it was Cas offering and Sam had faith that Cas would at least be merciful enough to heal whatever instant alcohol poisoning Dean’s concoction inflicted upon him.

From you: hey cas. That sounds great : ) should I come grab it?

From cas: Stay there Sam, ✋ I’m bringing it to you! 🍺🏃

From you: oh! Guess I’ll see you soon, thanks!

Sam shifted to move the pillow more squarely against the headboard trying to make it look more… inviting? Fuck. He stressfully tucked escaped hair strands back behind his ears before doubling the speed with which he was scrolling the suggested tab. He wasn’t sure why he was stressed, it wasn’t like Cas had never stayed in his room before, or used it to watch TV. Sure, they usually weren’t in the room at the same time, and if they were it certainly wasn’t on the same bed, which is what Sam wanted right? He wanted Cas to sit on his bed with him and watch something they picked together while undoubtedly burning taste buds clean off their tongues with whatever Dean had made.

He breathed out slowly through his nose, trying to push away the shameful little thoughts that’d hooked into his brain the moment he’d met Cas. It was Christmas, he could offer his friend a place on his bed if he wanted to. Besides, Cas was the one who offered to bring the drink to him when it would’ve been just as easy for Sam to go and get it from the source himself, and far less intimate too. Sam let his head fall against the top of the headrest and rubbed a hand over his eyes forcing them shut. He was so focused on the yellow patches fading in and out behind his eyelids that if his door didn’t have an unremovable squeak to its hinges he never would’ve known Cas had come in.

“Sam?”

His head shot up. His eyes wandered from Cas’ lack of shoes to the two mugs he had currently balanced in each hand to the top of Cas’ head as it gave a bemused little tilt. Sam felt himself relax slightly. It was only Cas after all.

“Hey, brought the poison?”

Cas paused for a moment before his eyebrows rose in understanding, “You mean ‘the nog.’ Yes, and I used these mugs because… I’m not sure, they just seemed right.” Cas gave him a small smile as he carefully positioned himself on the edge of Sam’s bed before handing him the mug that had the words ‘Christmas Ho’ printed in bold red letters on the side. Sam had half a mind to snort disapprovingly as he glanced inside the mug, catching Cas rolling his sleeve to his elbow out of the corner of his eye.

Wait a minute. White sleeve? But that would mean- Sam looked away from the blanched looking innards of the mug to the man sitting beside him.

Oh god. Cas wasn’t wearing the trenchcoat.

Sam could count the number of times he’d seen Cas without his trenchcoat on one hand, and he knew that because he’d mentally stored away each moment for reasons he swore were even unbeknownst to him (they weren’t but where’s the fun in admitting that.) After this one, he’d have to start counting with two hands.

“What are you watching?”

“What? No I’m not looking- watching- no I’m, nothing, I’m not watching anything.”

There was a pause as Cas gave Sam a concerned look, his mug almost to his lips. “I can see you’re not watching anything at this exact moment,” Cas started carefully, “But I assume you’ve opened Netflix with the intention to watch something. That’s what I meant.”

Oh.

“Oh! Right, yeah no of course. Um… I haven’t actually decided yet. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to help pick since you were already bringing down the- uh- ‘nog.’ So…”

Cas leant back slightly, “Really?”

“Really,” Sam nodded, “I figure you don’t necessarily want to sit through whatever mind slog Dean’s chucked on for Jack.”

Sam watched Cas’ lips form the strange little sideways smile he did when he genuinely found something amusing. Sam sat a little taller as his spine bristled with pride. He’d made Cas smile.

“No, I don’t think I do,” Cas decided, “It’s very kind of you Sam. Is it okay if I sit on the bed too? I’ve found it’s the best vantage point for the TV you have in here.”

Sam ducked his head and swirled his mug in a way he hoped would come off as nonchalant, “Yeah, course Cas, make yourself comfortable.”

He felt Cas move beside him but refused to watch as he swung his legs up onto the bed and then under him to sit cross-legged with the headrest as support. But then Cas touched a hand to his arm and all his efforts to seem calm and collected went out the window, all he could do was glance from Cas’ shapely hands to the strangely knowing smirk sitting in his eyes. A thumb rubbed up and down his bicep.

“I really mean it Sam. Everything you do, for Jack… For me, It doesn’t go unnoticed. I honestly can’t imagine anyone else who would let such a poor excuse for an angel cavort their room, let alone spend time with them in it.” “You’re not a poor excuse for an angel Cas,” Sam said, forced into a surprised stutter by the speed of his own response, “I- I mean, you do what you think is right a-and you always look out for your family even if they aren’t always the best at looking out for you. Sounds pretty angelic to me.”

“Maybe,” Cas sighed, turning back to the TV with a quiet sadness Sam longed to kiss from his eyelids. He settled for tucking one of the curls that sat around Cas’ ear back into place, “Besides,” he whispered, “It’s Christmas. Not that I know what that counts for, I’m sure it’s something though.”

“I’m sure it is.” Cas turned back to him, easily looking down at Sam from his vantage point, but Sam didn’t feel small, he didn’t feel the need to sink into his shame-filled bedframe, he just felt held. With nerves of frayed copper he reached his hand out to cover the one Cas had still sitting on his arm in a poor attempt to give Cas the same feeling he was giving Sam. Sam squeezed Cas’ whole hand before running his fingers along the palm, watching selfishly as Cas responded by simply twisting his wrist to lock their hands together. The remote lay forgotten between them.

“Merry Christmas Sam,” Cas said quietly into the dim winter light of the room. Sam clenched his toes inside his socks, bringing his legs closer. He’d never heard his name said like that before with such… with such… He took a sip of the eggnog and felt his brain further descend into mush.

That was it. He suddenly felt as if he’d never heard his name said before. The TV hummed in wait. Cas took a sip as Sam watched him, a welcome warmth emanating from his shoulder against Sam’s.

Sam leaned closer and whispered in the same hushed tone Cas had used moments before, “Merry Christmas Cas.”

#samcas #sastiel #castiel #sam winchester #fanfic #fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic #merry christmas #yes I wrote and posted this all in one day (the day of christmas)#and what about it?#im highly disorganised but thats life babbbyyy

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quitealotofsodapop · 1 year ago

Note

Just curious, how do the lmk crew when they are sick and when others are sick? (Not pregnancies since that whole different ball park.)

OK heres my hcs for how LMK gang deals with being sick/others being sick:

Xiaotian/MK: Ignores serious symptoms until he physically cannot walk. And although he loves the extra break time, he almost goes nuts when he's too sick and feverish to much else but rest. Draws a lot when ill, especially of his fever dreams. To Others: he goes full worried mother-hen on them. Soup, tea, soft pillows, meds, you name it - he'll zoom across town for it. Often ends up catching whatever the other person had cus of proximity.

Xiaojiao/Mei: Legit doesn't notice her symptoms until she starts flagging mid-drive, then she puts herself on strict bedrest until she's good enough to hit the road again. Prefers to treat herself, so she gets embarassed when she gets really sick and the others have to step in. To Others: Jokingly mourns them and drops off a bag filled with their fave snacks before booking it out the door. She will support them from a distance. XD

Sun Wukong: "Bah! Illness is for dorky mort- ACHOO!!" His relative isolation on FFM and hubris towards earths tiniest organisms has left SWK with almost zero immunity to common diseases. Pretty much passes out the second he gets the tiniest cold. Will try and meditate/sleep his way back to normal, but will need to be dragged kicking and screaming to a doctor. To Others: The opposite. Mortals are so fragile! Are you ok!? Why is your nose running? Are you dying?! This monkey goes into full panic mode over the smallest ailments. Buys out the pharmacy's stock in cough syrup and cold meds. Probably makes himself sick in the process.

Macaque: Accepts his fate and holes himself up in a nest for the foreseeable future. Has a slightly stronger immune system than Wukong (don't tell me that this monkey didn't live like an alley cat at some point), but in the case of really serious illness will crawl himself towards his nearest ally and/or enemy for assistance/a more honorable death. Secretly enjoys being pampered while in his more vunerable state. To Others: Full mom-mode combined with "I told you so" attitude. Strict bedrest and warm blankets. Monkey instincts take over and he'll make the sick person eat weird medicinal plants he finds/alchemises, and cuddle them in hopes of making them feel better. Often times it works.

Pigsy: Claims he's never taken a sick day in his life. Is proven wrong the first time he catches a random virus and has to shut the down kitchen for about a week. Is very frustrated, but puts the customers' safety over his pride. When he gets the slightest bit better he'll start cooking up a storm to make up for lost time. To Others: "Sick. Leave. Now." Will physically carry his sick friends/workers to the doctors to get meds before he lets them in the door. Will stuff the sick person full of healthy traditional soup recipes to encourage "natural healing" in addition to strict medical assistance. Will claim that he'd do this for anyone (he lying).

Tang: "Oh no~ I have the flu! I guess I'll have to stay home and be feed soup by my beloved Piggy~" This man will 100% take advantage of his sickness for attention. Don't lie to me. To Others: On one hand, eww. On the other, he may be able to steal a bowl of Pigsy's healing soup. Will smile fondly and let the ill person recover in their own time with meds.

Sandy: Goes belly up in the water. He's a guy with great constitution, so he doesn't get sick often. But when he does? Doctor, now. Can bounce back fairly quickly if treated, but he'll insist on the others not getting too close to him or his cats less they catch it too. Will appriciate any help (esp with his foster cats) around the boat house tho. Cat cuddle pile until he's better. To Others: Enters the room wearing a face mask and gloves, holding a tray of different teas (hot and iced), and offers to lend his aromatherapy machine. Very big on holistic methods, but won't discourage modern medicine.

Red Son: Goes into "dying victorian child"-mode. Was in the Guanyin's Southern Seas paradise for centuries (so no immunities) and likely hasn't caught most diseases simply because his body runs too hot for the micro-organisms to survive. But if he catches something supernatural, or it triggers a violent immuno-response? He's a sweaty mess unable to move from his bed, surrounded by ice packs. It's very difficult to take care of him in this state cus he's like smouldering lava. His parents get *very* worried. Gets ridiculously honest, slurring things like; "I love you so much noodle boy~" *passes tf out* to his caretakers. Doesn't remember a thing afterwards. To Others: "Bull Clones! Initiate hazmat procedures!" Gets mega worried cus he's never had to help someone in this state before, but understands how laboratory hazmat works, so will assist wearing full PPE. Will disinfect the ill person's entire living space to eliminate future threats. If the sick person is someone *really important to them, Red will panic and seek out supernatural assistance.

Nezha: "Sick? Nah I don't get sick." *falls asleep at the breakfast table the second no one's looking*. Tries to "tough it out" like he believes he should, but is woefully unprepared for how protective the rest of the gang can be. It's been a long time since someone has actually tucked him in and nursed him back to health - he gets really emotional. Will now die for his caretakers' no matter how small his ailments were. To Others: Vows to help however he can, and then goes to stand guard at the bedroom door. Will call for advice on bedside manner stuff cus he's not used to it (youngest of three yo) beyond what his mom would do for him as a toddler.

Bai He: Little kid. Will sneeze and cough and allow herself to be corralled into bed for the week. Very sleepy. Stuffed animal fort will be built to protect her. Mo may sneak in to cuddle her better. To Others: Is told to keep away from the sick person less she catches it, but will sneak in and donate one of her fave toys to keep them company. In the case of non-communicable ailments; will sneak in and try to cuddle the sick person better since that always makes her feel better too. Brings her tablet so that they can watch something together.

+(Au character) Chenxiang: Is pretty healthy, but also has no idea how personal health works. Gets his first ever really bad illness by getting drenched in rain one night and not drying himself off properly. Hallucinates feverishly and mistakes Wukong as still being his Sifu, and that he needs to save his mother. Multiple family members are required to wrangle Chenxiang back to bed in this state. Gets really quiet/wistful once he starts getting better. To Others: Gets really worried and immediately summons the adults for help. The only other time in the past he's cared for a sick person... didn't end happily. So he gets really really insistent on the sick person going to the doctor, taking meds, drinking tea & soup, everything. Pretty much helicopters over the sick until they get better, or if the adults take over for him.

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ink-feathers-and-paper · 3 years ago

Text

Accepting help

Original Work: The Hurricane

The characters and the story belong to me.

Prompt: Sicktemper 2021 - prompt 23) Ear infection

Number of words: 3458 words

Notes: yeah, I know, it's not September 23 yet but I never do the prompts in the right order anyway... and I didn't want to wait to post it.

Oh, and English isn't my first language, so if there are any mistakes please tell me!

...

Blue was blind. She lost one eye to illness as a child, the other in battle. That wasn’t a fatality in itself. In fact, she didn’t really care about it, she was living fine without sight. She relied on her other senses to hear, smell, taste and feel the world around her. It was how she lived the world, her way, and it was perfect as it was, she didn’t need an extra sense.

Especially when losing her sight meant that she gained so, so much more.

And, oh, wasn’t magic a wonderful thing, letting her feel the presence of everything and everyone around her? From the smallest ant to the biggest of dragons, all had a presence that she could feel.

And that wasn’t all! She was linked to Earth – oh, her dear mother Earth that gave life to her and her people, created them from the back rocks and red sands of her Desert – and thus the ground itself, the one under her feet, was alive and singing to her, chanting for her, humming sweet nothings in her ears.

Yes, magic was wonderful, and Blue’s ears could hear it all and more.

So, when one day she couldn’t hear anything, she frowned.

What’s wrong? she asked, but she got no answer. Of course. The Earth may be alive and sentient, She still was nothing but earth. With no way to hear Blue’s prayer, no way to answer her. Blue could, but She could not.

Perhaps She is just moody today, though Blue with a shrug. It happened sometimes, that magic didn’t want to be seen, heard of felt in any manner. It didn’t make Blue’s life any easier, but she could deal with it.

It never lasted anyway.

Her right ear – the one that was burned – was hurting, but perhaps she just wasn’t used to silence.

Or perhaps the foxes are playing? supposed the young woman a few days later. The magic was still silent, and Blue was getting antsy. Young kitsune foxes fed on the ambient magic and sometimes took a little bit too much.

But she couldn’t feel them anywhere. Where they were usually stood a beacon of magic, in the shape of a fox. Yet she couldn’t hear them anywhere.

They must be gone, they realised they took too much from this place and left to feed elsewhere. They will be back when the magic will be fully replenished.

Still, she missed her companions.

Using magic was getting harder and harder, more tiring each time. It felt like most of it wanted to pool in her head, near her ears, but she needed it elsewhere, so she steeled herself and made it bow to her will.

Days passed, and still nothing. Blue’s other ear was hurting too now, she was tired. Even the smallest of spells took a lot out of her and oh, what if she was losing her magic? – that would explain so much!

(Blue was scared.

She didn’t know what she would do if she lost her magic. Losing her sight was nothing in comparison to what it would mean for her.

Losing her magic would destroy her like nothing ever did before

And she wasn’t sure she could get back up from something like that.)

“Okay, are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” asked Youko.

Her friend sounded worried, but her voice was faint as if she were talking from all the way across the room and not sitting just beside her.

“Oh, hi. When did you come back from your mission?”

Her hair still smelled like the sea, like iodine and warm sand. Even a princess like Youko had to do her part in the reconstruction of the Empire. Especially Youko, actually.

“Last night. I wanted to see you, but I was so exhausted, I just collapsed on my bed. Thank goodness I managed to change and shower, Arashi would never let me live it down otherwise.”

Blue giggled. Arashi once came back from a mission so exhausted that he had fallen asleep in his bed, dirty boots, and bloody clothes and all. When the redhead had woken up, he had been horrified to discover that he had brought bedbugs back from his mission. It had taken him a month to fully get rid of them.

Of course, Youko had found this hilarious, and Arashi had been looking for revenge material ever since.

“But, hey, enough about me. Are you okay? You look sick.”

And, if she were being honest, Blue felt sick, too. But it couldn’t be that, her magic protected her.

“I’m fine, I just… didn’t know you were back.”

“You didn’t?”

Blue could imagine her expression, all right. She had seen it so many times before, when one of their friends got injured and didn’t tell her. Wide coppery bronze eyes lighting up in worry and anger and why didn’t you tell me sooner, you bloody idiot?!

(Why do I have to fucking guess when you are injured? I am the team medic for a reason, for fuck’s sake! Come to me!)

“I’m tired,” deflected Blue. “I overexerted myself, I think.”

“… then what are you doing out of bed?!”

Blue didn’t have a chance. Youko manhandled her onto her shoulder (darn, her friend was so strong for a so-called healer!) and carried her potato-bag-style to her room despite Blue’s protests. They grew weaker and weaker as laughter shook her shoulders and the woman resigned herself.

Youko kicked the door of her apartment open with more force than necessary and dropped her captive on the bed. “Phew, you’re heavy! You should exercise more.” Blue protested as she tried to get up but Youko kept a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t you dare move, you hear me? I’m coming right back.”

“I have duties!” protested the dark-skinned woman, fighting the hand that pinned her to the bed. “I can’t just drop them all like that.”

“Sure you can. Bedrest, doctor’s order. Don’t make me use my authority as a princess on you, Blue.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Watch me.” Her friend’s voice got softer as a hand gingerly brushed over Blue’s tightly curled hair. “You are not alone in this, you know this, right? Let me take care of a few things for you. Everyone’s in town. My brothers, Arashi, Ankora… we can help too… if you’d just let us.”

Blue felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. She grabbed her friend’s hand and squeezed it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and Youko softly kissed her forehead.

“Thanks for letting me take care of you.”

Exhaustion washed over the Mage, and Youko hadn’t even reached the door that she was already asleep.

The next time Blue woke up, she was in too much pain to ignore. She groaned as she tried to stand, but she felt dizzy. She had the mother of all headaches, her throat was dry, and her skin was warm and clammy.

Her ears held the worst of the pain, and when Blue lifted a hand to her head, she had to bite a pained gasp. Her right ear, in particular, was hot and wet under her touch, strange-smelling liquid oozing from it. The whole room smelled like it, actually, her pillow was soaked in it. Yuk. It didn’t look good

(Ha! Blind reference!)

She was sick. Sick. Had probably been for days. What an idiot, she admonished herself. Idiot, idiot, idiot!

And she didn’t realise, didn’t tell Youko.

Oh fuck.

Youko was going to murder her. Gleefully. She was going to cut her into pieces, stamp on them and then burn whatever remained. And she was going to dance on her ashes.

The dark-skinned woman tried to stand up, but her energy had abandoned her and she fell back on her bed with a pained moan.

Great. Couldn’t get up, nobody to hear her call from the corridor and no way to call for a servant either. Blue had requested – demanded actually, you could do that when you were best friends with the Imperial family – for no guards to stand at her door nor servants assigned to her room.

They would always treat her like a fragile thing as if she were made of glass. As if being blind hadn’t kept her from fighting in two bloody fucking wars, as if being blind made her inept to live for herself.

It infuriated her.

Well, in five years, it would be the first time she would regret that particular decision.

The woman sighed and tried to summon her magic. She could call for one of the foxes to deliver a message for her, or…

Her magic sizzled and snapped. Blue cried out, more from the surprise than the pain, and rolled off her bed and on her feet, all weakness forgotten.

She was a trained soldier, and if the last years had made go soft, some instincts were hard to kill.

She stood in her bedroom, raised elbows and ready to fight for her life. She strained her ears, but everything was muted. She tried to feel the earth under her bare feet, the vibrations of the air on her skin.

But there was no one in her room… or no one that she could find or sense. And considering how fucked up her senses were, she couldn’t fully trust what they told her.

“Show yourself!” she panted. She tried summoning magic once again, but her power reared up and snarled like a wild horse. Dread pooled in her gut. “What have you done to me?” she screeched.

The smell of illness cloyed the room and her nose, her ears were out of commission and her magic didn’t answer her.

For the first time in forever, Blue wished she could see. She wished she hadn’t been amputated from a sense, because it made her oh so dependent on the others and she couldn’t function without them.

She was fine without sight, but no sight and no hearing?

That would be the end of her world, chose one or the other, not both.

Weakness started to creep back in her, dizziness filled her head, and Blue fell on her knees.

“Blue!”

Arashi.

“Blue, what’s wrong! Your magic is all worked up!”

A hand on her forehead, a curse. The man scooped her up and Blue didn’t even think to protest.

“Fuck, you’re burning up. Hold on, okay? Hold on.”

Blue barely heard him. She fell in and out of consciousness as Arashi carried her to Youko’s apartments.

(They were closer to her rooms than the infirmary.

Oh, how many times did she end up there coming back from a mission or after a spell gone wrong?

How many evenings did their little group spent there, finally together after months apart, chatting and laughing in the night – forgetting everything but each other – until the sun rose and they had to prepare for yet another day of war?)

Blue could faintly smell medicinal herbs and remedies. She could hear Youko fuss over her, her skin smelling of lavender and her still-wet hair of tea tree. Long strands brushed over Blue’s bare skin, fresh and wet, and Blue sighed.

When she woke up, she was in Youko’s bed, surrounded by her smell and old books. A young kitsune fox was sleeping on the pillow next to her, its tail brushing over her arm repeatedly. It was still too young and weak to appear on the physical plane. It could only exist in the magical plane, for now, making it invisible to nearly anyone but her. Good, my magic sense is back.

It had probably been drawn to the buzz around her head, where the Healer was working her magic, her hands on Blue’s ears. Normal healing magic, that could only accelerate healing – not her battlefield one.

(The one that could reverse time on wounds and then re-apply them on enemies.

The one Youko had inherited from her mother, and now she was the only living being in the world who could use it.

The one that nearly took Youko’s life.)

Blue still opened her eyes when she woke, they weren’t sealed shut by injuries after all. Youko had done a great job at healing the burn on her face, she just couldn't save the eye.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Awful,” Blue croaked. Her friend laughed.

“I can guess. You had quite a high fever, you’ve slept the whole day off! Didn’t even wake up, just grumbled something as I healed you and immediately went to sleep. It’s early in the morning if you wanna know. Arashi brought you yesterday night.”

“Oh.”

So much work to catch up on! cried Blue in her mind.

“You have an ear infection.” Youko continued. “The right’s worse than the left, it started there. Your magic was completely focused on it, it tried to heal it but, well… it’s not your speciality for a reason. It helped slow the infection down, though. Blue… why didn’t you tell someone that you felt off? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Blue felt her throat tighten up. “I… didn’t realise, I guess. I was too caught up in my work, too… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Sight. A hand in her hair, brushing it back, and Blue leaned into the hand. It was warm, it smelled of lavender under the sting of medicinal herbs and remedies.

“Headslut,” Youko teased, even though she was the same. “I’m gonna ask Ryuu to give you days off. You can’t keep going like that, Blue…”

The dark-skinned woman stood up on her elbows. Ryuu was the consort of the actual Empress of the Guryong Empire. He also was Youko’s older brother. He was in charge of the army and the safety of the Empire. His wife, more diplomatic, handled the politics.

“I can’t!” growled Blue. “You know I can’t, else I would’ve asked someone already. It’s just… I am the only one who can sense magic like I do, Youko. No one else can even begin to imagine what I feel, hear, taste, feel and, yes, see! I am the only one who can detangle those thousands of hundreds-year-old spells through the city and the Empire! I can’t stop ‘till it’s done because my work makes the matrix of spells unstable, and who knows how long it will last? I can’t just drop it like that.”

Youko hummed in answer. Her hands went straight back to Blue’s ears and she started healing again. Neither woman spoke for a while. Then, the Healer sighed.

“I am the only one who has inherited my mother’s power. I am tasked with keeping her legacy alive, her knowledge, her art alive. Did you know she had three full libraries of notes? As well as four labs, only two assistants that knew a tiny part of her projects and over ten ongoing experiments when she died. I had to pick that all up and, well, continue her work. She took some of her secrets with her to the grave, too, so each time I do something, I don’t know if I have all the information… and if it will explode in my face or not.”

“How many times did it explode in your face?”

Youko giggled. “More often than I’d care to admit,” she said. “My point is, we all have tasks that only us can do. And yet you don’t see us neglect ourselves. I try to finish my mother’s life work. Arashi’s the only ambassador we have that can get in contact with the Demon Realm. Soren’s head of intelligence, but now he’s also head of the council and has to give advice to Ryuu. Ryuu, Blue! Do you know how hard his skull is? You have to fucking hammer your point home for him to actually listen to you, and he’s doing better since our teenage years! How is that possible?!”

She stomped, throwing her hands around while she ranted. Blue laughed.

“You know, I think he’s doing it just to mess with you.”

“I know! That’s the worse part of it all, I know he’s just pretending, and I hate that he still manages to make me mad!”

“He’s your big brother, he’ll always be annoying.”

“He’s the absolute worst,” Youko grumbled, but Blue could hear the fondness in her voice. “There,” she added suddenly. “All healed up. But I’m keeping you there for another day, ‘else I don’t think you’re going to follow my orders.”

“Which are?”

Youko grabbed her face with two hands and rested her forehead against Blue’s. “Bedrest. Strict.”

“Hmph!”

“I’m nod kidding. I’m gonna stay in this chair, just next to you, to make sure you don’t leave this bed. And it sucks, because I can’t do my work here.”

They were in Youko’s bedroom, no one wanted her to blow this wing of the palace up. The mental image of a restless Youko, away from her labs and books made Blue laugh.

“Forced vacation for the both of us, then, I guess!” she teased. “Can’t be that bad.”

“Aaaargh! You know what, I take back what I said about Ryuu, you’re the worst.”

“Yep, that’s me, your oldest friend!” said Blue cheerfully. “You’re stuck with me until the end, deal with it!”

Youko whined as if she were dying, and Blue laughed. She had forgotten how good it felt to just hang out with a friend and not working beside one another. It felt like a breath of fresh air after a long time inside, a whiff of spring after a hard winter.

“Wait, I was in the middle of my lesson here, why did you interrupt me?” Youko suddenly slammed a hand on her forehead. “Nice diversion here, Blue,” she said with false venom. “Uuugh, I hate you, I don’t remember where I was now!”

“At the part where you are working on the projects your mother left behind.”

“Oh, yeah, right, thank you. I love you again.”

“Yuk!” Blue stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Thank you, but no thank you!”

“You’re impossible” the other deadpanned. “How am I friend with you again?”

“I struck sand in your eyes and you hit me with a book in retaliation.”

Youko teared up. “… fuck, and that’s my tamest friendship. I’m a lost cause, aren’t I?”

“Yep!” Blue popped the ‘p’ childishly. “But we can be lost causes together, so it’s alright.”

“Thank you. Oh, well, back to what I was saying. I hired more assistants, you know? Didn’t want to become stuck in my work as my mother was, I’d end up crazy. I needed help anyway. My point is… you don’t have to do this alone. You could, you know, teach someone.”

Blue blinked.

“Youko, I’m blind.”

“And? That’s never stopped you before, has it?”

“Losing my sight was what allowed me to start sensing magic as I do. My magic sense, it… I only obtained it because I had to develop all my senses to make up for blindness.”

“And your brain gives it the form of sight, I know.” finished Youko. “But that’s not what I was saying. Your students – if you take students, which I strongly recommend– they don’t have to see – sorry, sense – the world like you do, but if they can sense what you sense in their own way, then they could help you.”

It felt like a breeze on her skin, the smell of spring, the earth after rain. So many possibilities, so many opportunities. How did I not think of this sooner?!

Her friend was still piling up arguments to try and convince Blue to take apprentices, the dark-skinned woman lifted a hand to interrupt her.

“Youko, you’re a genius.”

“… I am?”

Blue hated that tiny voice, that doubt weaved in it, with a passion. Her friend was so intelligent, and yet she thought herself below average. If only she had not spent her life comparing herself to her siblings, perhaps she would have more confidence in herself.

“Of course you are. And you know what? I think it’s worth a shot.”

Youko gave a watery chuckle. “You’ll do it?”

“Yes. I’ll make a stop by the Academy at the end of the week, perhaps talk with the other Mages. They might know someone. But only if we start spending some more time together. It’s been too long since our group had a game night.”

Youko laughed. “Of course. First night tonight with Arashi and Ankora?”

“Oh yeah. I know the perfect game.”

Sometimes, you just have to accept the fact that you need help… and that it’s not the end of the world, Blue mused. And that it’s good to have friends. Now, let’s show ‘em who’s boss.

#The Hurricane #original story #original character #oc #sicktember2021 #ear infection #fiction #do not repost somewhere else (ask and credit!)#english #Original Work #sicktember #Original Work: The Hurricane

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tenmillionwhumperflies · 4 years ago

Text

Cloudwalker Series Part 12

Protective Avizon anyone? COMFORTING Avizon? CUDDLE GIVING AVIZON? I hath delivered.

Warnings: References to previous torture, noncon, and humiliation in a character’s past. (Erix shows up at the castle for Dyan who taunts and says some nasty things to Dyan while he’s there).

Master-list Here

Approx WC: 2200

Avizon gave Ihuka almost two weeks of bedrest and steady care until he was ready to start working again. He left him and Dyan alone as much as he could, only seeing them to feed them and check on them for the time being. He didn’t train them. He let them wander some of the grounds, and Ihuka liked sneaking out of bed to look out of the big windows for hours and hours, always lost in thought, hugging his knees and mumbling to himself. Dyan said that he was upset, grieving even, for the freedom and the brother he had lost. Avizon usually just put a blanket over him and left him to it. He was behaving, so it didn’t matter, especially if it was helping him process it all.

But Avizon hated waiting, but this time had to be the exception if he was to win back both of their trusts. He wanted them to be looked after, but he also had so many questions about their powers which he was determined to find the answers to. Just how did their magic work? Was the power confined to their feathers? He didn't know, but he intended to learn as all good sorcerers should. He needed to go to the great library, but that was a few days away and he didn’t want to travel just yet. Perhaps he could speak to his old mentor, Orrien, but he wasn’t sure how pleased he’d be to see him.

For now, that would have to wait. He worked with Dyan where he could, doing harmless tests, asking him questions, getting him to ask Ihuka questions, which most of the time was more fruitful since he was wild. Avizon took it all in, he wrote it all down.

Once Ihuka was more healed, he'd set Dyan off cleaning a massive ballroom with Ihuka's help. Ihuka was rough and unskilled, which came in handy for catching rats and scrubbing the floors whereas Dyan's gentle nature was much more valuable in cleaning the chandeliers and everything else that was fragile. They had a few days to finish the task, but he was confident that by the end this room would practically glow. Ihuka seemed to appreciate the exercise for the most part.

But that day was different, as he sat he felt the presence of another in his castle. He glowered, produced an orb with a wave of his hand which went to seek out whoever was there and guide them to him. He summoned his cloudwalkers to his side like mastiffs. But when the presence found them, Dyan paled.

There stood Erix, Dyan's previous owner, though calling him that made Avizon feel sick. His yellow/orange eyes were piercing compared to his black hair and dark clothes. His skin was sickly pale and he’d let the hair on his chin grow out into a goatee of sorts. Avizon could see the earrings he wore were actually teeth, not any teeth- fangs. Cloudwalker fangs no doubt. Avizon could only just make out a tattoo on his neck, the tips of wings he guessed. Diid he even have a tattoo of one of these poor creatures.

"What are you doing here?" Avizon scowled, stroking Dyan's hair to soothe him.

"I heard you found a lost toy of mine," Erix answered, wiping his snotty nose on his forearm and glaring at Dyan. He shrugged and took out a roll of paper filled with tobacco. Dyan whimpered. Seeing a few faint burns on his shoulders made it clear as to why. Erix lit in with magic by flicking the end of it. "I want him back, he's mine."

Dyan managed a groan, but he was too afraid to shuffle away. He was tense under Avizon's soft touch, as solid as rock but trembling like he was going to crumble into dust. He wouldn't budge, he couldn't stop staring, panicking inside. “M.master, p.please...” he whispered, look up at Avizon’s face.

“Get here, you traitorous little runt- now!” Erix demanded, pointing at his feet. Dyan let out a mercy squeak, and Avizon was surprised to find Dyan quickly began inching towards Erix.

Avizon reached a little further down, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Stay,” he said softly.

Avizon turned to look up at Erix. "I think you'll find he is mine," Avizon purred, running his fingers through his hair, hoping it helped calm him while it also looked possessive. He’d never liked Erix, he was powerful, enough to be a threat at least, but now he loathed him, and he wanted nothing more than to kill him. "I don't like to share, especially not with scum like you."

“I had that little slut first,” Erix snapped. “You still would have one. Give me back what is rightfully mine! I need him!”

“Mind your words,” Avizon glowered, clenching his other fist. “Or you’ll be needing a coffin.”

Erix forced a clearly fake smile. “Payment, then?” Erix placed three bags on the table. "I'm offering you seventy five of the finest diamonds from the Northern Mountains."

"No."

Another bag. "A hundred then, here and now."

"No!" Avizon shot to his feet, hands clenched. Dyan squeaked. "Dyan is not falling back into your slimy hands ever again. He is mine! If you want him, you go through me."

Ihuka fluffed up his black feathers and snarled, focusing on Erix. Erix widened his stance, ready to fight. “Don’t underestimate me-�� “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ihuka growled again, he was all too ready to lash out. “Tell your flea-bitten mutt to stand down before someone gets hurt.” "You'd best be careful Erix, or else you might end up missing a leg, he has quite the bite to him. You have had the gall to ask for the cloudwalker, and I have said no, now leave."

Ihuka moved in front of Dyan without hesitation, without waiting for an order. He seemed to understand the situation.

"Get your stinking slimy body out of my castle before I freeze you and give Ihuka his orders. Ten-"

"He belongs to me!" Erix roared, slamming a fist on the desk, drawing another cry from Dyan. Avizon could hear him sobbing. He brought glowing white power to his hands, ready to attack or defend if necessary. Erix was not getting his little bird!

"Three, two, o-"

"Fine!” Erix spat, and Avizon struggled not to sigh in relief. “I'm going, keep the little rat. I hope you have fun with him. I wouldn’t treat him too nicely, he’ll just escape if you give him nice things and free you’re other cloudwalker as he did with me. I'll find a new one. Oh, and Dyan," he sampled the name on his tongue and smirked coldly, “I hope you can sleep at night knowing what you’ve forced upon some poor innocent bird because you’ve betrayed me.” Dyan whined, dipping his head down. Erix flicked his roll at Dyan, but Avizon quickly deflected it.

But when Erix reached for the bags Avizon slammed his hands down on the desk, the thud echoed across the room. Both cloudwalkers jumped in fright.

"I'll keep the diamonds too. Get. Out. I will be watching you, and if you ever buy or use one of those poor creatures again, I will personally see to it that they eat you alive. Hopefully, your foul flesh won't poison them. Really, I should kill you where you stand!"

"And risk the wrath of the entire city? The evil Avizon kills a man who simply wants to buy his property back?" Erix snorted. “That’s if I don’t kill you first, you’re nothing but a lame and sulking shadow.”

"You think I fear that city? That I could ever fear you?" Avizon brought power to his hands, oh so ready to act.

Dyan whimpered with fear, stopping Avizon's trail of thought but Erix was already storming away.

"Stay, Ihuka. Good bird," Avizon said softly.

He turned to look at Dyan who was leaning against the throne, hugging the corner of it and trying to breathe. He was hyperventilating, with panic so clear in his eyes. He was trying to hide behind his wings, his eyes just peeking over the top.

"Oh, little bird," he murmured. "It's alright, shhh. You're safe. He's gone."

"H.he won't stop until he has me," Dyan cried.

"Do you want me to kill him?"

Dyan couldn't find an answer. "I… I'm not allowed to want anything?" His eyes were red, sore, and carried so much confusion, doubt; fear.

"Answer me, Dyan. You are allowed."

"Then…No, master… you'll get in trouble. O.or you could get hurt."

"I've been in far more trouble than this before. I’ve killed royalty. If he's gone you don't need to fear him anymore, you'll be free and the world will be a better place for it…" Avizon studied his expression. "But… you don't want to run that risk of losing me, do you?.. Well, if you are sure, I will let him live and I'll watch him as best I can to make sure he hurts no one else. Either way, you're safe."

Dyan couldn’t stop crying, he couldn’t calm himself after such a close encounter. Avizon knelt beside him and slowly reached up to rub his back, to hush him and wait for him to calm. Ihuka inched closer and rubbed his head against Dyan's shoulder like a cat until Dyan reached up to hold onto him as he trembled.

"You were very brave, Dyan. I know that was hard for you… You can have the rest of the day off if you wish?" Dyan shook his head. "I. I can't. I have to clean. I'm being bad- I.I can't be bad-" Avizon cupped his cheek. "Look at me, little one."

Dyan did so, but he gulped. Avizon stroked his cheek, hoping it would calm him more. "You are not bad. You are a little treasure and your loyalty astounds me in the best of ways. You've been cleaning for six hours. The ballroom is practically finished, and you both deserve the rest. If you want to stop, to go and lie down or go for a walk with me then that is allowed, I understand cleaning might also make you feel better, but the choice is yours. What do you want to do so you can feel better?"

"I… t.the walk sounds nice…" he managed, nervously wringing out his hands.

Avizon nodded and smoothed the hair out of Dyan's face. "Good boy. Stay here until you've calmed down. I need Ihuka to put everything away, but if you need comfort you can sit on my knee or by my chair and I'll do what I can."

Dyan inched closer once Avizon sat back down, he eased his head into Avizon's lap, his arms reaching around to hug his leg. Avizon stroked his head, doing his best to avoid his damaged horn until Dyan's head flopped against him as he got more exhausted. He was struggling to keep his eyes open the longer Avizon played with his hair. Avizon waited to see if he'd fall asleep but every time he got close he'd startle awake.

Avizon gently picked him up using his powers and eased him onto his lap, putting an arm around him, letting Dyan snuggle against him. Dyan was unsure at first, but he leaned against his chest tucking a wing around himself.

"Sleep, little bird. I'll protect you."

Avizon played with his hair again, helping him to drift off. He eased a little bit of sleep magic into him to help. As he did, he looked down at his broken horn. He could see fragments of power within it, like seams of ore in a freshly mined rock. So there was power in their horns after all… perhaps that did explain why he had less power.

Ihuka returned once everything was put away that needed to be. He looked at Dyan with concerned curiosity, but Avizon smiled softly. "He's alright." He pointed to the bed beside him, inviting Ihuka over. He did so and curled up. Avizon waited until Dyan was in a deep sleep until he used his powers to pick him up, supporting all of his body, and then settled him down in the bed beside Ihuka, who was getting drowsy. Ihuka cuddled into him and settled a little more. Avizon nodded to himself and left them to sleep while he continued his work. He focused on Erix's presence. Its unique feeling. Part of him knew it wouldn't be the last he'd see of him.

He reached forward, took one of the bags and opened it up, letting the content pour onto the table. Sure enough, there were twenty-five stunning gems. He scrutinised them carefully, and true enough they were real, but also familiar. He’d seen the king with these gems before… Had Erix really just tried to buy a cloudwalker from him with his own money? And yet this was so much more than what a typical white winged cloudwalker with a broken horn should be worth. He could have bought at least twenty cloudwalkers with this much money. He really wanted Dyan. Avizon feared it was an obsession. Whether the diamonds had belonged to him or not. He would be back, that much was true.

And Avizon the Terrible would be ready, with all his wrath ready to rain upon anyone who dared try to take his cloudwalkers from him.

#whump #cloudwalker series #tw: noncon #just to be sure eventhough it doesn't happen #avizon #dyan #ihuka #Erix #my writing #whump writing #ohh Erix is a mean bastard #but I have big plans and if you hate him already well that's just gonna get worse

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yanderes-stuff · 4 years ago

Note

...Michael Andersen? There's barely anything for the dude, so you can do nsfw or sfw if you want?

Yeah sure bro let's get the yandere man with jean curtains to clap cheeks because your the only one that doesn't treat him like a psycho

P.S I saved this for Michaels birthday and it's 3:22 am right now so I'll revise this later but I wanted to post right now

Tw: dubcon (manipulation) and cussing and yandere stuff and bad grammar

Word count: 1,725

The door to your room gently shut. as you wandered to your bed waiting for Michael to come out of the bathroom after a long day relaxing together previously he was texting you about how lately he was feeling miserable all because only a few people don't treat him like an individual and those people would usually not bother to spend time with him

So out of pity, you decided to agree to invite him over to cheer him up after all that's what friends are for. Michael seemed to be appreciative of you since you would always comfort his misery at any chance you got especially the times he would come over uninvited crying over the loneliness begging you not to leave but it's worth it just to see him at peace for once

But alas he was faking his despair for your comfort he didn't know any other way that would get your instant attention so he decided that he was going to go to desperate measures you were the only one that was there for him and he needed you for himself

Which sometimes led to him sneaking into your room uninvited when he was feeling especially unstable at nightfall though by then you were in a deep sleep however he discreetly snaps photos of you sleeping to ease his nerves later which led to him having a whole photobook of candid photos taken without your knowledge but he couldn't help it! You're the only one that makes him feel soothed from his descending sanity

But there were times when you were together where you would mention other people to him then he'd start fussing about the flaws of the person and telling you why he doesn't like them nevertheless he was clever about exaggerating his views on people but that's a bit of an understatement

This leads to him enacting his plan right this moment without your knowledge he's been waiting quite a while to perfect this plan without any chance of failure he'll just have to protect you from those people as you did with him

With a gentle creak of the door, you hear Michael out the bathroom "Hey [Name.] Thanks for inviting me over." He muttered gently

"You're welcome I like it when you're here." You admitted your words made his heart warm-up although he didn't show that

"So uh [Name.] I was wondering if I can ask you something." He mumbled a light pink dusting contemplating over his next selection of words

"Hit me with it." You said casually looking up to meet his eyes that were staring right back at you with a hint of uneasiness to them

He swallowed thickly and his eyes scanned the room for a moment "Could we do the thing again...I just like being seen as an equal and being taken into consideration while I please you."

You were quiet for a second a little startled but not disgusted you had an idea of what the aforementioned "thing" was quite some time ago since you had sex with him but it began when he implored you to have sex with him to unwind from his depressed state which you hesitantly agreed just to comfort him but you quickly grew to have the ritual relatively often until you grew apart for some time busy with other friends

You held a small smile "Oh sure I guess...it's kinda been a while since we did it hasn't it." You agreed with an awkward laugh you patted the side of the bed signaling him to come to sit down

Once he sat down he took you in his lap and cupped his hand to your cheek admiring your face once done gazing his lips crashed with yours in a fierce kiss while he massaged your right breast over your t-shirt after a few minutes of this you took off your shirt and threw it on the ground then he switched sides and gave the other the same treatment his lips danced around your collarbone

He started playfully rubbing his fingers against your womanhood over your shorts then he slipped his hand in and started darting his fingers in and out now you could barely think straight with the sensations he was giving you and when you took a glance at his boxers you could see his cock bulging from within the fabric

You awkwardly slipped off your shorts to give him easier access to your lower region you were dripping wet from the feeling of euphoria he gave hitting your sweet spot with his rough digits once he was satisfied with his effort he disrobed himself and crawled over your figure lining up with your soaked genitalia

Then he fitted his girth in you with one quick motion and sits still for a second letting you adjust once you settled he started to rock his hips gently his breathing getting slightly erratic from the pleasure coursing through him than his movements quicken with speed his hips bucking back and forth against the bedrest then he put his hands to your neck not enough to choke you but enough to feel his hands there you can feel him chasing his climax with the thrill while you reached yours for a second time but before he could cum inside you he pulled out and came on your Inner thighs and stomach with the hot sticky liquid

He crawled beside you and snaked his arms around the top of your body in a warm and cozy embrace you grabbed a nearby towel from the side table and patted yourself off before you snuggled him back

"Let's just go to sleep and get some rest for tomorrow, deal?" He whispered in the tip of your ear

"Deal, good night Michael I love you." You mumbled your words made Michael extremely delighted and words couldn't describe how much he hoped you were being honest

"I love you too [Name.]" He returned the sentiment and with that watched you slowly go into a deep slumber

When he was finally certain you were asleep he quietly tiptoed outside whilst grabbing a large kitchen knife on his way and when he strolled to your vehicle in your driveway and in one swift motion jabbed the knife into the rubber tire glancing around to make sure nobody saw quietly chuckling to himself

As he was ensured there were no witnesses he walked away from the harsh hiss of the tire slash and came back inside and started once again to hold you close to him later in the morning when you both woke up and you cooked breakfast fluffy pancakes for Michael as well as yourself and told Michael you'll be right back to get mail

When you wandered outside to collect your mail from your mailbox when you discovered that your car had a flat tire noting this in your mind you went back inside your house and notified Michael while he was still at the kitchen table eating the food you made for him

"Hey Michael can you do me a favor." You implored him with a straight face standing next to the doorway

"Yeah, sure what" Michael answered back already knowing what you're going to ask him trying to hold back his excitement cupping his own chin with his elbow propped up on the table

"Could you take me to the auto shop? I need a new tire. I think I might've cut it on a rock or something." You pleaded and continued "I'll pay you back somehow." A small frown on your face you didn't want to send Michael to get it by himself because you knew he didn't like being left alone

"Yeah sure I'll take you but you don't need to pay me back." He told you casually he already knew how you would pay him back…

When you two got into Michael's car there was an uncomfortable silence you two tried to make small talk in the meantime but there was something off about Michael his eyes seemed to be more dilated lost in thought while still navigating through the strangely empty roads

After a while more uncomfortable small talk there's another thing you noticed was a bottle of pills presumably medication and in addition to that some heavy-duty rope maybe it was for camping was a thought that cropped in your head but that thought was interrupted from the sight of the repair shop in the distance

Until…Michael passed it "Uh Michael you passed the shop buddy." You said trying to snap him out of his supposed trance but he just hesitated to answer until finally

"I know." He confessed giving you a side-eye while driving you can now make out the fact that his breathing is slightly more unstable

"Sorry, but I can't let you go...love" he emphasized the last word in his sentence while you heard the click of Michael locking the car door before you could open the door to escape

Michael turned on an unfamiliar path that was secluded in a forest then he turned to you

"Look, this is for the best. You don't understand now but your will." He growled he scrambled to you pinning your body between his legs as his figure loomed over you

Then he took your throat in his hands and started to crush it harshly still with that labored breathing and dilated eyes focused on you, but you tried to struggle but to no avail, your world was fading, and the last thing you saw before passing out was Michael leaning in to gently kiss you

You awoke chained to a bed presumably Michaels you squirmed trying to get up but you quickly realized that Michaels's arms were latched over yours in a tight grip and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back

"I love you so much, you have no idea what lengths I'd go to prove that or more so what lengths I'm going to prove that."

#yandere slenderverse #yandere michael #slenderverse #michael anderson #mlandersen0 #fanfic #send asks #smut #birthday #request #Michael x reader #what the fuck #fuck it #yandere x reader

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justjessame · 3 years ago

Text

Pleasure and Pine - Home Sweet

“Simon?” Cairo is misery personified the larger my waist grows. “OGI, for God’s sake!” Coming down the stairs, I feel like I weigh roughly as much as a barge and move with as much grace as one.

“Lana,” my darling brother appears with the bowl of sherbert he’d rushed off to get HOURS ago - “I was coming up with it, see?” He holds it up with a flourish and I sigh, my hand on my lower back. “I wasn’t gone for more than two minutes, I swear.” He was climbing the stairs with such ease that I wanted to scream, but I didn’t, not when he was holding the icy heaven in his hand. Perhaps once I had it in my own grasp. “Why are you out of bed?”

“Because,” I reached for the bowl, but he refused to hand it over, wrapping his free arm around my back and helping me back up the stairs to my room - to my bed to be more precise. Bed rest because I was filled to the brim with TWINS. What a wondrous holiday souvenir did I bring home! “You were taking forever, and I’m miserable.” Pouting and swollen, all I wanted was COLD and deflated, was that too much to ask?

He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “You’re beautiful and carrying my niece and nephew.” His hand was massaging my lower back, something he learned quickly from the midwife and doctors would help soothe my most savage of tantrums. “Now come on, back to bed with you, and you can have your sherbert.”

Ogi tucked me in, my headboard amply padded and propped so I could sit up and keep at least slightly busy with my laptop - writing those silly little stories after all, while also keeping track of my brother’s digital schedule from my partially prone state. He handed me the bowl and spoon and crawled in next to me. “Are you expecting to share this bowl?”

“Never,” he shook his head with a grin. “He’s back.” I didn’t answer, digging into the soft and cool treat, thinking that I wasn’t dignifying the topic by speaking. “Don’t you think he should KNOW about -” he gestured at my built-in tray.

I would have laughed, truly if I wasn’t absolutely savoring the chill and tart flavor of my sherbet, I would have laughed - humorously, but laughed all the same. ONE day, that’s what we had had ONE day and he’d easily sent me away without so much as a whimper. Did I think that warranted him having a HINT that I was carrying not ONE of his offspring, but TWO? No. Not really.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about him, Lana.” Leaning back and eating my treat, I let him talk, since he wanted to. “Things that I’m not sure I can tell you, but -”

Ogi had given me far more than I should eat in one sitting, but I didn’t care. The heat and my swollen feet earned it. And since he seemed hellbent on discussing Jonathan Pine with me, well, I most certainly earned it.

“I knew he was at Meisters,” my jaw clenched as I waited for him to go on. “I thought -” he took a deep breath. “I thought you both needed one another, Lana.”

That did it, I pushed the spoon into the sherbert and handed the bowl to him. “Here.” Ogi looked confused. “Take it.” He took the bowl. “Get out of my room, Ogi.” Furrowed brow, and hurt eyes, I nearly broke, but I couldn’t. “You knew? You knew and YOU thought we -” I swallowed hard. “You -” my eyes burned. “Please go?”

“No,” he shook his head and set the bowl down on the table beside him. “No.” He pulled me into his arms and held me as I cried. “I should have told you, when you came home looking like -” his nose was buried in the top of my head, but I could hear him. “I knew how he felt about you, we all did,” he chuckled, but it didn’t feel like he thought it was funny. “You’d have to be blind to NOT see how you two -” From a laugh to a sigh. “He left here broken and I had a part in that, but I didn’t send you there to fix it or as a peace offering, I just thought - you both deserve MORE, Lana.”

More, that word again. Sighing and feeling completely cried out - empty and dry, I rubbed my face on my brother’s linen shirt. “So you just decided to send me to Switzerland to see if the aurora borealis and cold would work their magic?” The laugh that crept out of me wasn’t really created with humor. One of my hands fell to the gentle curve of my stomach, not nearly as huge as it felt when I was standing, but far larger than it would be if there weren’t TWO little beings inside of me. Ogi’s hand came down to meet mine, linking his fingers with mine - my big brother ready and willing to stand beside me - even if I was being stubborn in his mind. “He can’t know, Ogi. He can’t.”

I could feel the kiss he pressed on the top of my head, the heat of his breath fanning my hair. “Jonathan Pine is many things, Lana.” My heart clenched hearing his name spoken so casually. “If he knew, if he could SEE you like this -”

“Then he would make a choice based solely on THIS,” tightening our clasped hands where they lay on my bump, I snuggled a little more into his chest. “Let him be, Ogi. Let him live the life he wants to live.”

Another kiss brushed against the top of my head. “I should let you rest,” he sounded as tired as I felt. “If you want to end this bedrest -” it wasn’t permanent, not if I could get a few stress related issues under control, according to the midwife and doctor. “Rest and less stress, right?”

Nodding, I let him pull away and sat up so he could help me move everything so I could actually lie down. Rolling onto my left side, I watched him pick up the bowl of melting sherbert and blow me a kiss. I listened as he shut the door behind him and I tried to push aside thoughts of Jonathan, Switzerland, and what went into creating the twins I would be raising without him.

I woke up feeling too warm - more warm than even Cairo would make me. Far warmer than Cairo, pregnancy, and - was that an arm wrapped around me?

Blinking, against the sunlight - happy to see that I hadn’t slept through the entire day because yes, I had done that since I’d been put on forced rest - I looked down and saw his arm tucked just under my breasts and on top of my bump. Bare but for his watch, freckled and glowing with golden hairs sparkling in the sunlight, my eyes closed as I tried to fight the urge to cry.

“Lana,” the soft sound of his voice did nothing to soothe the feeling. “Sweetheart?”

My breath caught, a sound that came out suspiciously like a sob had Jonathan rolling me gently onto my back, his hands cupping my face with enough care that almost tempted me to open my eyes, but I couldn’t. Not on the chance that he’d leave again - or send me away again. His thumbs were brushing under my eyes, along my cheeks, over my lips.

“I didn’t know,” he sighed, his breath fanning across my face. “I - There’s so much that’s happened since -” He swallowed hard again, and then his forehead touched mine. “Please open your eyes, Lana. Look at me?”

Maybe if I did, if I looked at him, he would go. And I could have peace. Opening my eyes I found exactly what I knew would be waiting for me - his pale blue oceans waiting for me, staring down and all I could think was how when he left this time it would hurt a thousand times more than when he sent me away before.

“I’ve been back for weeks,” he murmured, and I could see that he was confused by my silence - not only now, but for all that time. “Why didn’t you -”

“Why didn’t I do what, Jonathan?” Licking my lips I met his gaze full on. “Why didn’t I send a message to your old stomping grounds? Why didn’t I simply show up and wait for you to grant me an audience?” My laugh proved how ridiculous I found either option. “I guess Ogi didn’t explain why I’m in bed during the day?”

Why Ogi had chosen to go behind my back and tell him, why he’d let him in my room and allowed him to ambush me so - betrayal cut me deep. I would have thought blood was thicker than water, but perhaps not.

“You’d cut me completely out of your life - their lives?” He hadn’t moved, still half hovering over me, his face still inches from mine, hands still cradling my face. “Lana, please?”

“Please?” My eyes shut, a small cramp building in my lower abdomen. “Please give you the power to draw them in only to shunt them aside when they become inconvenient?” The cramp built to an uncomfortable pinch. “Or better yet, allow you access to come and go as you please, never quite sure WHERE you plan on setting up your next life - I’m absolutely certain that children grow best in temporary soil, always uprooted as Daddy sees fit.” From a pinch to a stabbing pain, but I was doing my best to ignore it. “I think you and I both know that’s not exactly -” a gasp that I couldn’t hold back and my hand went to the spot.

“What is it?” He pulled away and his hand met mine. “Lana? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” I managed through clenched teeth, but I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t had such pain before. And then I felt it. Something like a ripping, then a gushing sort of feeling.

“Lana,” his jaw was tight, nostrils flared as his eyes were on the spot where our hands were, below where I could see since my head wasn’t elevated. “I - I need you to stay still, alright?”

“Jonathan, what is it?” Something about how he was staring at the bed, and the way he sounded frightened me.

He worked to force his face back into the careful facade that I knew all too well. The never ruffled, never surprised face of the night manager, Jonathan Pine. His gaze met mine and he gave me a soft smile. “Nothing at all for you to worry about, sweetheart,” he leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead. “We’ll argue a little more in a moment,” his smile had grown when he pulled away. “I have to ask Ogi a question, alright?”

Something was wrong, but I was far too frightened to ask what - nodding my agreement, I didn’t even stop him when he stole a light kiss from my lips before he left my bed, careful not to jostle me.

#jonathan pine x oc #jonathan pine #the night manager #unplanned pregnancy #angst #alternate universe

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