#closeted n not allowed to seek medication

[gracieo]

Hmmmm. life is kind of miserable at the moment. It’s really astounding how much a housing crisis can directly unironically cause 80% of your mental health issues . everything 2 do with money and all my friends having busy misaligned schedules.

I’m running out of time in college and I’ll probably never get to have that “college experience” of living on/near campus, much less with my friends, but maybe it’s just not meant to be for people like me even if we try for it. I’ve worked a job for a decade now but it’ll still never be enough to have stuff like that. idk. musings. Ramblings . etc

[jezabelle9299]

Broken Lungs S.R x FEM!Reader

CWs- Spoilers for season 5, depictions of asthma and use of a nebulizer, mentions of gunshot wounds, and health insurance not covering necessary medication.

Quick Infodump- Oxygen saturation levels should be 95-100%, lower than 93% should seek immediate help from a healthcare professional, and lower than 85% can cause severe damage to the brain because of a lack of oxygen.

Overture: Spencer is recovering from the knee surgery he needed after being shot in the field, when he sees a familiar face in the hospital being treated for an asthma attack.

A/N- This is based on my own experience with asthma, but it's different for everyone, so the relatability may vary with this one. But I was stuck at home all day because of an air quality alert so I did this instead of getting ready for the semester that starts in two weeks.

After one of his worst days in the field, Spencer ended the day in a hospital bed unable to walk. Hotch had been stabbed, and he had been shot. Both would be ok, and they were in separate hospitals to recover. The team alternated who would come to visit, and when. It usually took until the nurses kicked them out at the end of visiting hours, for them to actually leave. 

It’d been 2 days since his surgery, and the nurses had given him permission to walk around with his brace, on crutches. He’d never used them before, so he walked around the floor to the nurses’ station to get some more jell-o, and then around the hall back to his room. He allowed his curiosity (or nosiness) to get the better of him, occasionally glancing in at the people with their doors open, giving them a small smile or wave. Until he saw a familiar face. 

You’d worked for the FBI for a few years, working on the same floor as the BAU, but you weren’t in the field. You were sitting up in a hospital bed, playing solitaire in one hand, holding what looked like an oxygen mask to your face with the other. You looked up when you felt his eyes on you, and there he was, trapped in the doorway. You’d think you were hallucinating if not for the brace on his knee, and the crutches he was propping himself up on. He didn’t move from the threshold until you gave him a small wave, jumpstarting his movement into your room. 

You’d heard about Hotch’s incident, but you weren’t in the office yesterday, and since Spencer’s injury happened later in the day, you had no idea why he was here. You pulled the mask spraying (terrible tasting) medicine into your lungs from your face. You could stop for 30 seconds to see what he was here for. 

“Hey Spencer, what–um, what brings you here?” He hesitated, because you’d know since the 5th floor of the FBI building was the most gossip-ridden place he’d seen since high school. Yet he had no idea you’d be here. It’s not even as if you never talked, whenever he was in the office he’d stop by your desk to talk to you. He figured that you hadn’t gotten tired of him yet because he was gone a lot, although in reality you’d never tire of hearing his voice.

“I got shot in the knee, I’ll be fine, the real question is why are you here?” You’re sure it’s on government record, something Garcia could find in two minutes if she looked, but you still didn’t like talking about it. You knew it was stupid to be embarrassed of it, but you couldn’t help it. Every time it got brought up, you felt like the dorky character in a movie carting around their inhaler all the time, the butt of some cosmic joke. 

You preferred to think of it as an inconvenience more than anything. It didn’t come up often because you weren’t in the field, and when you needed to use an inhaler, you measured your breathing long enough to get to an empty bathroom or supply closet. You’d just blame the jitters that came after on too much coffee, and no one would ask any questions. This time, the inhaler wasn’t working, the next step in medication, a small machine similar to what you were supposed to be hooked up to now, wasn’t working either. So you drove to the ER feeling like you’d just run 10 miles, and they were making you stay 36 hours to give you stronger medication in intervals. 

“No reason.” You didn’t know why you even bothered with that response. Neither did Spencer, tossing you an apathetic look. He knew how squeamish you got when attention was drawn to something that made you look vulnerable, which is why he let it slide every time you walked into a supply closet looking flushed and panicked, with a soundtrack accompanying every time you took a breath, only to come out 5 minutes later with no supplies. 

 “Ok, really? Why would you even try it, you’re hooked up to a nebulizer and your oxygen saturation is at 90. What happened?” He was using the tone he only ever broke out for interrogations and proving Morgan wrong, but you still wanted to minimize the attention drawn to this not so glamorous piece of your life. You wanted Spencer to see you as someone he could date, even someone he could love, so this was not ideal to the image you’d been trying to show at work. 

“I have gross broken lungs. It’s really no big deal.” He laughed, but there was minimal humor behind it. Like he couldn’t even fathom you thinking this was ‘no big deal’. 

“I would venture to say you being in the hospital because you were unable to breathe is a very big deal.” While you loved when Spencer got a little bit cocky, you decided it would be more fun to make the little vein in his forehead appear again. So you tossed a vague shrug.

“Well I’d say getting shot is a much bigger deal. So why don’t you sit down, eat your jello, and tell me what happened to you, while I finish this thing.” He couldn’t argue with that, because at the very least he wanted you to feel better and the medicine currently going to waste while you were talking was the only way to accomplish that, so he relented. 

He didn’t want to move your things to the floor, but they were occupying the only chair in the room, so he made himself comfortable at the foot of your bed. He always wanted to be closer to you anyway. Setting his crutches next to him and opening the small cup of jello he’d somehow been holding this whole time, he reiterated his answer from before. 

“I told you already, I got shot in the knee, went into surgery, and now other than having to use these crutches for a while, I’m fine. Just need to spend a little longer in recovery before I can go back home to minimize the risk of infection.” He took a bite of jell-o just as a show of finality, like there was nothing more to say. Like a gunshot wound was not a huge deal. 

The whirr of the machine started to slow down, the medicine sputtering instead of coming out in a steady steam, meaning you could finally be done. You set it on the table by the bed, right next to your abandoned game of solitaire, and as soon as you set it down Spencer’s attention was back on your wellbeing. 

“Ok your turn, what happened?” 

“I’ve had asthma since I was a kid, and I just got unlucky today. It’s always worse this time of year, and my inhaler wasn’t really doing anything for me. Our health insurance plan doesn’t cover the more expensive meds unless I’m in the hospital, so here I am, for the next 36 hours.” You made a point to turn your exasperated expression into a cheesy smile, hoping to convince him to stay for just a little while longer.  “But the bright side is that since you're here I don’t have to play solitaire anymore. That was getting old fast.” You grabbed the cards, giving them a quick shuffle.

“So what do you say Vegas, are you up for a round of poker?” You hoped that would distract him from fussing over you, and luckily it did. He was satisfied you were ok, and the last thing he wanted was to push you too far, and for you to ask him to leave. So he let the smile take over his face. 

“Always. But i'm not going to go easy on you just because of your- what did you call them- broken lungs?” That got a good laugh out of you. Admittedly wheezy, but still one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to him. 

“Gross, broken lungs. And I wouldn’t dream of it.” You dealt the cards, already knowing you’d lose. You didn’t even know how to play poker. But word around the office was that most of your coworkers wouldn’t play with him since he always won. But you didn’t mind, you mostly just wanted someone to hang out with, and you were overjoyed that person was Spencer. He won, of course. Only gloating a little bit at how badly he beat you, and while you were dealing the second round of cards, you couldn’t help but vocalize what had been in the back of your mind for a few minutes now. 

“Hey Spencer, could I ask you a favor?” He had a mix of worry and willingness to help all over his face. 

“Anything.”

“Could you–not tell anyone in the office? Just. You know how they are, they would make a fuss about the whole hospital thing and it’s just not necessary.” 

“Where do they think you’re going to be for the next day and a half?”

You looked down like a kid who just got caught in a lie. “I kind of told Hotch I had a cold.” Spencer just sighed in response. 

“I really do think you should let them fuss over you. You deserve it, and you know Penelope lives for that sort of thing.” That you couldn’t deny, no matter how much you disagreed with him saying you deserved to be cared for. 

“Please, Spencer?” 

“Alright, but they might walk past your room in the morning. Garcia said she was coming, and you know she’ll drag at least one person along with her.” 

“Noted. I’ll close the door in the morning. Thank you Spencer, seriously, it means a lot.” You put your hand over his and it felt like every thought he’d ever had was gone from his brain at your touch. He couldn’t believe his dumb luck at meeting someone like you. Just to be in your orbit, to see and know you, felt like it could only be accomplished by divine intervention. Selfishly, he wished that you’d be staying a little longer, so that you could both leave together. Even more selfishly, he wished that you would leave with him, and come to his apartment. There he could take care of you, make you feel special until he could finally convince you that you deserved it. Deserved everything. 

You moved your hand to start tapping it on your leg, and while Spencer knew the side effects of respiratory steroids, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was wrong. That maybe he did something wrong. 

“Is there something on your mind?” 

“No, it’s just the jitters. I used to get them so bad when I was a kid, my parents would have to practically hold me down. It’s like I have the energy to run a mile, but I can’t actually do it. I’ll calm down in a bit, but I’m probably going to get really rambly first.” 

“I’d love to listen to you talk, and I love being on the other side of a ramble.” It was just then that a nurse came in to ask if you were feeling better, charting your vials,  reminding you that you need to take your next dose in 4 hours, and telling you that an orderly would be in to set it up then.

Just when she was getting ready to leave she turned her attention to Spencer. “I’m sorry, but I am going to need you to go back to your room Dr. Reid. You both need to get some rest.”

He reluctantly told her that he would and just as soon as he’d come in, he disappeared again. He gave you a wave when he was gathering his crutches, but no real goodbye. You of course waved back, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You really liked him, and you thought maybe he really liked you too. And yet, he only gave you a wave. 

All of the adrenaline moving through you, getting you all worked up finally won out, and stupid as it may sound, tears started to prick the corners of your eyes. Just as you closed the door to your room to get some privacy while you cried, your phone started to ring, and you couldn’t help but think; What now? You answered it without looking, and on the other side of the line was the person you wanted to hear from the most. 

“So what did you want to talk about? I have all the time in the world.”

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Umbaran Pathogen - Day 17: Hypothermia

Summary: Fives, Kix and Rex arrive at the medical facility first, which doesn't help them all that much considering they have no idea what they are looking for.

Warning: N/A

Prev / Next

[In which the events on Umbara are worsened by an unknown pathogen taking hold of both the 501st and 212th. These series of drabbles will follow a non-linear timeline based on the AI-less Whumptober prompt list for 2023.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

"It's freezing in here..." Rex hissed between chattering teeth, immediately regretting having taken off his bucket as soon as they entered the Umbaran medical facility.

The Captain was right too. The quick preliminary scans that Fives had done upon the trio sneaking in, revealed that the entire building was at almost sub-zero levels of cold. For what reason, he couldn't be sure, but it probably had something to do about storing bacterial culture samples or whatever the hell it was that natborn doctors did with the stuff they collected off their patients during tests.

He had already lived through a lifetime of medical tests performed by plenty of Long-Necks and Droids, that didn't particularly care about his or his vode's comfort during said procedures. He didn't really need to know what the nattie docs got up to outside of the war efforts.

"Put your helmet back on." Kix ordered as he uneasily looked around the hall they'd ended up in, after climbing out of the dusty ventilation system. "Your armor's thermal regulation system should keep you from freezing your shebs off."

"Tell me something I don't know..." The blond grumbled as he put his bucket back on, sighing in relief as the bitter cold was chased away in mere instants. "Much better... But moving on, we need to find a floor plan for this place..."

A wise idea, as they couldn't waste time running around blindly. If they got their hands on a map of the facility's various floors, they'd be able to find what they were looking for much faster, rather than risk getting lost in a maze of recovery areas, operation theaters, or even storage closets.

There was no telling how long they'd have before General Kenobi and the 212th could no longer stall for them, and with no word from Coric's group things were starting to look a little grim.

Getting to the facility itself had been a struggle. Between hiding from the Umbaran scouting parties, avoiding the aggressive wildlife, and keeping an eye out for the infected, the journey had been a constant uphill battle where they couldn't even resort to using their blasters. Unwilling to bring unwanted attention to their positions.

Given that they hadn't encountered the other medics, they assumed the others were struggling just as terribly. If not worse. They had no idea if they'd escaped from the base unscathed. For all they knew, Coric, Pitch, Twitch and Sponge had already been caught. Or worse...

And with only a vague idea that they needed to access a database to seek out some critical (but not very explicitly elaborated upon) information, the trio really wasn't all that prepared for this sort of excursion.

One medic would definitely not be enough, should they find a cure. That much they figured, considering the number of infected troopers in the 501st alone. Kix wouldn't be able to tackle the issue on his own.

"You think the others are ok?" Fives asked as he looked around, somewhat unsure if the way they'd chosen to go first would get them anywhere of use. He was walking slowly, steps as light as the bulk of his armor would allow, keeping an ear out for trouble.

"They're tough." Rex nodded slowly. Trying to be optimistic, considering he knew how frighteningly stubborn the medics could be, but still coming off as somewhat unsure in the end. The circumstances weren't easy ones after all. "They're probably just being careful, like we were..."

"Yeah... Yeah probably." The ARC nodded back, before motioning for the other two to stop near a corner where the hallway turned. He had a very quick look, and then gave them the all clear. Moving just a bit quicker now that he had a goal in sight.

Down the hall was a flight of emergency stairs. Besides it, attached to the wall as per standard safety regulations, was the digital emergency floor plan. The three rushed forward to have a look, barely containing their elation as they realized the interactive floor plan had pages that displayed the other floor layouts.

Thumbing through the available information, they saw exactly what they were looking for. The main datahub, which would contain all kinds of data-banks stock full of useful medical information.

"Basement floor." Fives groaned. "Of course the dang thing is in the creepy basement..."

"Not so much creepy, as probably absolutely frozen over..." Kix shook his head in disbelief. Sounding somewhat put-off at the possibility of facing even lower temperatures. "The entire basement of this huge building is dedicated to computers and the server banks. The amount of heat generated would need to be mitigated by considerably frigid mini-climate..."

"Kix, it's already pretty cold out here. I doubt the basement will be much worse..." Rex pointed out. "That said, if it IS worse, we should be as quick as possible. Even if our armor will protect us from the bitter cold, it won't do us any good if we stall and end up overworking the thermo regulation system. We'd freeze on the spot."

"Wouldn't want a case of frostbitten tootsies." Fives nodded, sounding morbidly amused at the idea. "Or hypothermia."

"If there ever was a place to catch your death, I suppose a hospital isn't the worst of options..." The medic responded with his own amusement.

They carried on, hoping their fellow troopers would meet with them soon. They could really use some help looking for the correct data at least... Hopefully the cause for their delay was indeed caution.

[tyrannuspitch]

Jumping off @kidrat​ ’s recent post on JKR, British transphobia, and transphobia against transmasculine people, after getting a bit carried away and too long to add as a comment:

A major, relatively undiscussed event in JKR’s descent into full terfery was this tweet:

[image id: a screenshot of a tweet from JK Rowling reading: “’People who menstruate.’ I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud?”

Rowling attaches a link to an article titled: “Opinion: Creating a more equal post-COVID-19 world for people who menstruate” /end id]

This can seem like a pretty mundane TERF talking point, just quibbling over language for the sake of it, but I think it’s worth discussing, especially in combination with the idea that cis women like JKR see transmasculine transition as a threat to their womanhood. (Recite it with horror: ”If I were young now, I might’ve transitioned...”)

A lot of people, pro- or anti-transphobe, will make this discussion about whether the term “woman” should include trans women or not, and how cis women are hostile to the inclusion of trans women. And that’s absolutely true. But the actual language cis women target is very frequently being changed for the benefit of trans men, not trans women, and most of them know this.

Cis people are used to having their identities constantly reaffirmed and grounded in their bodies. A lot of cis women, specifically, understand their social and physical identities as women as being defined by pain: misogynistic oppression is equated to the pains of menstruation or childbirth, and both are seen as the domain of cis women. They’re something cis women can bond over and build a “sisterhood” around, and the more socially aware among them can recognise that cis women’s pain being taken less seriously by medicine is not unrelated to their oppression. However, in the absence of any trans perspectives, these conversations can also easily become very territorial and very bioessentialist.

Therefore... for many cis women, seeing “female bodies” described in gender neutral language feels like stripping their pain of its meaning, and they can become very defensive and angry.

And the consequences for transmasculine people can be extremely dangerous.

Not only do transmasculine people have an equal right to cis women to define our bodies as our own... Using inclusive language in healthcare is about more than just emotional validation.

The status quo in healthcare is already non-inclusive. When seeking medical help, trans people can expect to be misgendered and to have to explain how our bodies work to the doctors. We risk harassment, pressure to detransition, pressure to sterilise ourselves, or just being outright turned away. And the conversation around pregnancy and abortion in particular is heaving with cisnormativity - both feminist and anti-feminist cis women constantly talk about pregnancy as a quintessentially female experience which men could never understand.

Using gender-neutral language is the most basic step possible to try and make transmasculine people safer in healthcare, by removing the idea that these are “women’s spaces”, that men needing these services is impossible, and that safety depends on ideas like “we’re all women here”. Not institutionally subjecting us to misgendering and removing the excuse to outright deny us treatment is, again, one of the most basic steps that can be taken. It doesn’t mean we’re allowed comfort, dignity or full autonomy, just that one major threat is being addressed. The backlash against this from cis women is defending their poorly developed senses of self... at the cost of most basic dignity and safety for transmasculine people.

Ironically, though transphobic cis women feel like decoupling “women’s experiences” from womanhood is decoupling them from gendered oppression, transmasculine people experience even more marginalisation than cis women. Our rates of suicide and assault are even higher. Our health is even less researched than cis women’s. Our bodies are even more strictly controlled. Cis women wanting to define our bodies on their terms is a significant part of that. They hold the things we need hostage as “women’s rights”, “women’s health”, “women’s discussions” and “support for violence against women”, and demand we (re-)closet ourselves or lose all of their solidarity.

Fundamentally, the problem is that transphobic cis women are possessive over their experiences and anyone who shares them. Because of their binary understanding of gender, they’re uncomfortable with another group sharing many of their experiences but defining themselves differently. They’re uncomfortable with transmasculine people identifying “with the enemy” instead of “with their sisters”, and they’re even more uncomfortable with the idea that there are men in the world who they oppress, and not the other way around. “Oppression is for women; you can’t call yourself a man and still claim women’s experiences. Pregnancy is for women; if you want to be a man so badly why haven’t already you done something about having a woman’s body? How dare you abandon the sisterhood while inhabiting one of our bodies?”

Which brings me back to the TERF line about how “If I were young now, I might have transitioned.”

I’m not saying Rowling doesn’t actually feel any personal connection to that narrative - but it is a standard line, and it’s standard for a reason. Transphobic cis women really believe that there is nothing trans men go through that cis women don’t. They equate our dysphoria to internalised misogyny, eating disorders, sexual abuse or other things they see as “female trauma”. They equate our desire to transition to a desire to escape. They want to “help us accept ourselves” and “save us” from threats to their sense of identity. The fact is, this is all projection. They refuse to consider that we really have a different internal experience from them.

There’s also a marked tendency among less overtly transphobic cis women, even self-proclaimed trans allies, to make transphobia towards trans men about cis women.

Violence against trans men is chronically misreported and redefined as “violence against women”. In activist spaces, we’re frequently told that any trauma we have with misogyny is “misdirected” and therefore “not really about us”. If we were women, we would’ve been “experiencing misogyny”, but men can’t do that, so we should shut up and stop “talking over women”. (Despite the surface difference of whether they claim to affirm our gender, this is extremely similar to how TERFs tell us that everything we experience is “just misogyny”, but that transmasculine identity is a delusion that strips us of the ability to understand gender or the right to talk about it.)

I have personally witnessed an actual N*zi writing an article about how trans men are “destroying the white race” by transitioning and therefore becoming unfit to carry children, and because the N*zi had misgendered trans men in his article, every response I saw to it was about “men controlling women’s bodies”.

All a transphobe has to do is misgender us, and the conversation about our own oppression is once again about someone else.

Transphobes will misgender us as a form of violence, and cis feminist “allies” will perpetuate our misgendering for rhetorical convenience. Yes, there is room to analyse how trans men are treated by people who see us as women - but applying a simple “men oppressing women” dynamic that erases our maleness while refusing to even name transphobia or cissexism is not that. Trans men’s oppression is not identical to cis women’s, and forcing us to articulate it in ways that would include cis women in it means we cannot discuss the differences.

It may seem like I’ve strayed a long way from the original topic, and I kind of have, but the central reason for all of these things is the same:

Trans men challenge cis women’s self-concept. We force them to actually consider what manhood and womanhood are and to re-analyse their relationship to oppression, beyond a simple binary patriarchy. 

TERFs will tell you themselves that the acknowledgement of trans people, including trans men, is an “existential threat” that is “erasing womanhood” - not just our own, but cis women’s too. They hate the idea that biology doesn’t determine gender, and that gender does not have a strict binary relationship to oppression. They’re resentful of the idea that they could just “become men”, threatened by the assertion that doing so is not an escape, and completely indignant at the idea that their cis womanhood could give them any kind of power. They are, fundamentally, desperate not to have to face the questions we force them to consider, so they erase us, deflect from us, and talk over us at every opportunity.

Trans men are constantly redefined against our wills for the benefit of cis womanhood.

TL;DR:

Cis women find transmasculine identity threatening, because we share experiences that they see as foundational to their womanhood

The fact that transphobes target inclusive language in healthcare specifically is not a mistake - They do not want us to be able to transition safely

Cis women are uncomfortable acknowledging transphobia, so they make discussion of trans men’s oppression about “womanhood” instead

This can manifest as fully denying that trans men experience our own oppression, or as pretending trans men’s experiences are identical to cis women’s in every way

[bubbasbarbeque]

* excited gremlin noises * you write for RZ's Mikey!! Can I request my trouble maker seeking shelter in his favorite nurse's house after breaking out of the sanitarium? In any form you want! I just crave content for this mountain of a man. (Some angst would be just 👌👌👌)

heck yeah my dude!! i love RZ Mikey he's a good boy and he deserved better 😔

hope you enjoy 👀

Freedom

For the first time in his life, Michael didn't know what he was going to do.

Life was completely scheduled for him, up until this point. Doctors would decide when he would eat, what medications he would take, when he would be groomed, etcetera.

But now, he was free. Free to do what he wanted. Free to finally find her. Angel.

However, he knew people were already after him. He needed to act fast, find shelter, and only one person came to mind.

Y/N.

A behemoth walking down the street would be concerning, Michael was conscious enough to know this. So, he traveled through the woodland areas, like a man on a mission. He knew exactly where you lived- you had told him once before, absentmindedly. This would be considered foolish on your part, however, you cared about Michael. You were one of the only nurses he allowed to groom him, let alone even touch him. You trusted he would never hurt you.

Or escape.

However, when the sound of glass shattering met your ears, you were more than terrified.

It wasn't storming outside, so you knew it wasn't high winds. Someone had broken into your little home. So, instinctively, you grabbed a weapon- a metal baseball bat you kept in your closet -and crept your way downstairs.

Moonlight flickered into the living room, through the shattered window. The light reflected off the glass that littered the floor, and your alert eyes darted across the room. You held the bat up threateningly, ready to strike at any given moment.

Once you stepped into the living room, avoiding the glass shards, you felt a heavy presence behind you. Your grip on the bat tightened, and you mentally prepared yourself for what you would have to do.

"Get out!!" You cried out as you whipped around, beating the person in the chest with you weapon. You squeezed your eyes shut, pounding against their chest with the metal bar as hard as you could before you felt your last swing abruptly stop.

You froze, afraid to open your eyes. But, you knew you had to.

As your eyes slowly flickered open, you felt your heart flutter. Out of fear or relief, you weren't quite sure.

Michael stood before you, his long, matted hair draping over his paper-mache mask. He held the bat you were using to beat him with an iron grip, although he seemed unfazed.

"M...M-Michael?" You choked out, still in disbelief.

You trusted Michael. When he was contained.

As if it was a twig, Michael pulled the bat from your grip and tossed it aside. He recognized the fear in your eyes, and his head cocked to the side.

You were too afraid to move. Of course, you had always assumed Michael liked you, maybe even trusted you. But he was unpredictable. Especially when he was free do do as he pleased.

So you knew there were only two reasons he would come to your home. Either because he did, in fact, trust you.

Or he wanted to kill you.

Luckily for you, it was the first option. Because surprisingly, instead of ripping the life out of you for beating him with your bat, he showed vulnerability.

Michael got down on his knees, slouched over. However, with his enormous height, his head rested atop your abdomen, and that would be where it remained. He didn't move, and he definitely didn't say anything. He simply sat there, on his knees, at your mercy- because he knew you wouldn't hurt him.

He knew that you couldn't hurt him.

As you began to regain control of your trembling body, you stiffly glanced down at the behemoth kneeling before you. Perhaps this was his way of telling you he trusted you.

As you slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your fingers gently combing through his hair, your trembling did not cease. You felt tears fill your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were stuck with him now. You knew this, and it absolutely terrified you.

[armandyke]

You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say

Summary: The children are twelve, and Diego is worried that Allison is starting to get careless with her powers. The other siblings don’t notice until it’s too late. 

Word Count: 2137

Square Filled: Rumour

Characters: All the siblings + Grace and Reginald Hargreeves

Warnings: Mild gore, mild blood, swearing

A/N: The first of nine entries for @tuacreatorsbingo!

You can read it here, or on my AO3

There had been a change in Allison in the last few months, and Diego seemed to be the only one to have noticed. Before, her powers were reserved only for missions and training, but now she seemed to be using them multiple times a day, for the smallest of things. He’d seen her controlling their siblings, and even if he couldn’t prove it, he was certain she’d controlled him too. Several times. Maybe he was the only person who was paying any attention, or maybe the others were choosing to ignore it. Either way, he never mentioned it to anyone, but sometimes he wished he had. 

Their last mission was a roaring success. Ten bank robbers apprehended, a few dozen hostages saved, zero casualties. It seemed like forever before they finally managed to escape the hoards of reporters and photographers swarming them. The others didn’t seem to mind of course. Luther stood proudly puffing his chest out, Allison and Klaus were in their element posing for photos, and even Five had a smug smile on his face. He and Ben loitered in the background until finally they were ushered into a car and driven home. When their father greeted them on the doorstep, his heart sunk, but for once he actually had some good news. 

“Children,” He said in his usual cold tone of voice, looking down his nose at them. “You completed your mission earlier than expected. There will be no further training until after dinner. Six o’clock, sharp.”

Never one to stay and chat, he turned and headed back inside, presumably returning to his office to get on with… whatever the hell he always did in there. 

“I think that’s the closest he’s ever gonna get to paying us a compliment,” Five said dryly from behind him.

“That was a compliment?” Klaus asked and Ben sniggered. “I thought we just got punished.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Luther told him.

Klaus punched Luther in the arm and Luther shoved him, sending him stumbling back a few paces. The two of them moved to hit each other again but Allison grabbed Klaus by the collar, pulling him back and forcing herself between them. 

“Stop it,” She ordered. “Dad just gave us the afternoon off and you morons are wasting it.”

“Maybe I wanna spend my free time beating the crap out of my brother,” Klaus said with a shrug and she let out an exasperated sigh. 

“We should play a game. We should play… Hide and seek!”

“I don’t want to play that,” Ben mumbled.

“Well I heard a rumour that you do,” She snapped. 

Ben looked blank for a moment, before nodding and agreeing that it was a good idea. Nobody else argued.

The rules were always the same. Number 1: No powers allowed. Number 2: Five is the seeker because he never listens to rule 1. Diego hid in one of the dozens of spare bedrooms, laying on his front under the bed with just enough space to peek out and see if anyone was coming. He had no idea how long he’d been hiding there, but he was starting to zone out when a voice next to him startled him and he lifted his head, smacking it on the top of the bed. 

“Jeeze,” Klaus said, wincing as Diego rubbed the top of his head. “What did you do that for?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” He muttered. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

“You’re not the seeker.” 

“Diego, we have two entire hours to do whatever we want. I’m not spending it hiding behind a curtain. Let’s go do something fun.” 

Klaus grinned at him, wriggling out from under the bed and holding his hand out to him. Hesitantly, Diego took his hand and followed him through the maze of corridors and staircases. 

“Where are we going?” He asked after a few minutes, completely losing his sense of direction as they ascended yet another flight of stairs. 

“Mom’s room,” Klaus told him as he finally ground to a halt outside a door. “I found it last week.”

“M-M-M…” He paused, letting out a frustrated sigh and trying to concentrate. “M-Mom doesn’t have a room,” He said, eyeing up the door suspiciously. “She sleeps in the hall.”

“She still has to keep her clothes somewhere,” Klaus said excitedly, pushing the door open and waving his hands dramatically. “Ta da!” 

Behind the door was a walk-in closet, similar to the one their father had, just a little smaller. The racks one one side were filled with brightly coloured dresses, and on the other, coats, hats, and scarves. At the back of the room there was a wooden vanity with an ornate jewellery box and a small collection of makeup. 

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Klaus said eagerly, spinning around in the middle of the room before running over to one of the racks and running his hands over the fabric. 

Diego found himself wondering whether their mom even liked these clothes, or if this was just what their dad wanted her to wear, but before he could dwell on it for too long, Klaus was looping a deep blue silk scarf around his neck and giggling at him. 

“You look so fancy.” He sniggered. “Wait! You need a hat!”

Running back over to the rack, Klaus grabbed a black fascinator and pinned into his hair, before pulling him over to the mirror to show him his reflection. Diego burst out laughing when he saw himself. 

“I look stupid,” He said as he pulled the fascinator out of his hair, throwing it in Klaus’ face and making him laugh. 

“You just don’t appreciate fashion.” Klaus turned on his heel, gasping loudly and turning back around with a pair of bright red high heels in his hands. “What about these!”

“I’m not wearing those,” Diego said, wrinkling his nose up.

“Not for you, idiot.”

He watched as Klaus pulled his shoes off and stepped into the heels, clapping his hands together happily. 

“They’re so pretty,” He whispered. 

“They’re too big,” Diego observed. “No way can you walk in those.”

“Oh yeah? Just watch me.”

He took a step and immediately lost his balance, grabbing on to one of the dresses as he toppled over and landing with the fabric draped over his head. They both collapsed in a fit of giggles on the floor, leaning against each other as they tried to catch their breath. 

“What are you doing?” 

They both looked up and saw Allison standing in the doorway, with Five and Luther behind her. 

“Dressing up,” Klaus said with a grin, scrambling to his feet and wrapping the pink dress around himself like a skirt. “See? Now I’m you!”

“We were supposed to be playing hide and seek.”

“Well, you found me.” He shrugged. “Diego, I heard a rumour that you… Stood up!”

Sniggering, Diego got to his feet, and Luther and Five laughed. Still wearing the heels, Klaus shuffled back out into the corridor with Diego following behind him. 

“I heard a rumour that you all followed me,” Klaus said, trying to mimic Allison’s voice, and headed towards the stairs. 

Diego, Luther, and Five all started following him, and Allison folded her arms grumpily. 

“That’s not funny, Klaus.”

“Well, I heard a rumour that you do think it’s funny,” He said with a grin, turning back around to face her. “And I also heard a rumour that you stopped being such a spoilsport.”

“I am not a spoilsport,” She muttered. 

“I heard a rumour that you admitted you’re a spoilsport,” Klaus said, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Shut up!”

“I heard a rumour that you stopped telling me to shut up.”

“I heard a rumour that you stopped talking!” 

Klaus was quiet for a moment, and the others glanced at each other uncomfortably. Then, without a word, Klaus turned and took a step down the stairs. Everything happened so quickly that Diego didn’t have time to react. Immediately, Klaus lost his balance in the heels, twisting his ankle and tumbling head first down the stairs. There was a sickening crunch, Allison screamed, and Five jumped to the bottom of the stairs just in time to catch Klaus before his head hit the floor. 

A horrified silence hung in the air as they all tried to take in what had happened. From the top of the stairs, Diego couldn’t see how badly Klaus was hurt, but he could see the blood on his face and on Five’s hands. 

“Shit,” Luther said behind him, pushing past and running down the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” 

“Someone needs to get mom,” Five said calmly. “Right now.”

Nodding, Luther took off down the corridor.

“What the hell did you do?” Diego asked quietly, turning to Allison. 

The colour had completely drained from her face, and it took her a moment to tear her wide eyes away from Klaus to look at him. 

“I… That wasn’t me,” She said, shaking her head. “He tripped.”

“Two seconds after you rumoured him.”

“I told him to stop talking! Not fall down the stairs!”

“Well he sure isn’t talking now!” 

Allison choked on a sob, clasping her hands over her mouth and shaking her head frantically. Before either of them could say anything else, Luther returned with their mom, whose eyes went wide when she saw Klaus lying with his head in Five’s lap. Diego hurried down the stairs, stopping dead in his tracks on the top step when he finally got a better look at Klaus’. The bottom of his face was swollen and disfigured, blood was pouring out of his mouth, and Diego could see a couple of his teeth had been knocked loose. 

“It looks like he’s broken his jaw,” Mom said, smoothing the hair away from Klaus’ forehead. “I’ll need to take him to the medical room.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Five asked as he reluctantly let go so she could pick him up. 

“He’ll be fine,” She reassured him. “The rest of you go and play. He won’t be awake for a while.”

After they’d found Ben and Vanya and told them what happened, it was a torturous wait for their mom to return with news. When she finally arrived, they all crowded around her, talking over each other with a million different questions. 

“He’s alright,” She said, raising her voice so they could hear her and crouching down to put her arms around them. “But he’ll need to have his jaw wired shut for a few weeks.”

“What does that mean?” Ben asked and she paused for a moment before replying. 

“He won’t be able to talk,” She explained. “Not until it heals.” 

Diego and Five exchanged a glance, and their mom stood upright again. 

“Now you all need to get ready for dinner. You know your father doesn’t like you to be late.”

As the others filed obediently out of the room, Diego tugged on her dress and looked up at her. 

“Can I go and see him?” He asked in a hushed voice. 

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and chewed her lip thoughtfully before nodding. “Alright,” She said, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. “Just be quick.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Diego darted out of the room and headed for the medical room. The door was ajar when he reached it, and when he peered inside he saw Allison crouched next to Klaus on the bed. Sneaking inside, he could just about make out her whispering. 

“I heard a rumour that you don’t remember what happened.”

Klaus stirred on the bed and Allison ran for the door, almost running straight into Diego on her way out. The two of them stared at each other wordlessly as they passed each other, but Diego was more interested in getting to Klaus than confronting her. He ran over to the bed, putting his hand on Klaus’ shoulder as he blinked a few times at him. 

“Hey,” He said quietly. “It’s me.”

Looking up at him, Klaus furrowed his brow and moved his hand up to his mouth, feeling around and wincing. 

“You broke your jaw,” Diego explained. “Mom said you’ve gotta have it wired shut. So you can’t talk.” 

Despite his explanation, Klaus made a noise as he tried to say something, and Diego got up to look for a notepad, handing it to him and waiting patiently as he scribbled something down. Finally, Klaus held the notepad up for him to see. 

“What happened?” 

Diego opened his mouth, then shut it again and glanced over at the door, where Allison was still lingering and watching the two of them. 

“You tripped,” He said quietly, hanging his head. “You were trying to walk in mom’s heels and you fell down the stairs.”

[crowleyellestair]

Hide ‘n Seek- Jaskier Drabble

AN// Some canonical facts are taken from Blood of Elves, though it was pictured with the Netflix adaptations for Jaskier, Geralt and Ciri

 Major fluff

 Jaskier x reader, Platonic witcher friends

Jaskier didn’t have enhanced witcher senses. He couldn’t smell what someone had for diner the say prior or sense people’s emotions. He couldn’t tell a lie by a heartbeat nor could he see in the dark. He was a humble bard, and a simple man, who loves a woman named Y/n completely. He also cares for his witcher friend Geralt, who could be blamed for this situation.

The bard and his healer had traveled with the White Wolf to Kaer Morhen with the intent to help raise Ciri. Winter so far had been perfect, despite the intense change in scenery. The two would usually spend time in the still bustling streets of Oxenfurt, but now they were in a half closed off keep. Raising the young princess had been a walk in the park so far, each of the witchers taking her under their wings. The five witchers had decided they would teach her as much as they could about the witchering world, and the bard had decided to teach her court etiquette. Most of the medical info the Lion Cub had been learning was through Vesemir, so Y/n wasn’t a teacher. She had decided to be ‘the fun aunt’ as she often said.

Last time the bard had checked, Y/n had been with Ciri, though once he had caught up with the young girl, she gave him worrying news.

“We were playing hide and seek. In a way it helps training, so I can locate people based on tracking and ‘environmental knowledge’.” The old witcher next to her grumbled from his seat.

“Environmental awareness.” Vesemir continued to page through the newest book that he was going to use for visual aid. His eyes flew over the pages, but his tone was scolding enough were Ciri shrunk without the scrutiny of his gaze. “Though, our little cub was unsuccessful.” The bard’s hand flew to rub her back, trying to sooth her despite her ‘failure’. It had taken a moment for his words to set in. Cornflower blue eyes darted between the two.

“So that means…we don’t have any clue where Y/n is?” Ciri shook her head, and Vesemir gave him a sparing glance that conveyed the obvious answer.  His head snapped to the barely audible footsteps coming in from the balcony. “Oh, perfect. Geralt, can you tell me where Y/n is?” Geralt looked to Vesemir with a raised brow. Every witcher in the keep had an idea, if not the exact location, of the healer. Familiar golden eyes flew down to the child he had come to know as his daughter, and Jaskier’s stomach dropped. A growingly familiar, playful grin started to spread on Geralt’s pale visage.

“Yes.” The bard waited for a moment to find he had nothing to add. His hands flew in a questioning gesture through the air for a moment before his arms dropped to his sides.

“And where, pray tell, is she?” Geralt’s gaze met the brunette’s.

“I never said I would tell you where, I was simply saying I could.” Jaskier’s hands fisted and rested against his hips. His mouth gaped like a fish for a moment before snapping shut, and letting out a dramatic huff.

“My dearest friend, why won’t you help me? Do you think it is fun putting my weary heart through this turmoil?” A small giggle came from the floor where Ciri sat. The playful smile turned to genuine joy as the witcher looked back down. Jaskier sighed, trying his damndest to not admit that he found it cute as well. He turned on his heal, and started to search. If Ciri couldn’t find her, his best bet was to look for the other two witchers, as Coen was also in the room smiling silently. Or, at least Eskel. He would help. Sadly, since the balcony was open, by the time the bard had gotten to him, he was chuckling and shaking his head.

“Come on, Eskel. Betraying me, sure, but Y/n? How will she feel about this?” The scarred lip tipped up, eyes shining as he looks to the bard from Lil’ Bleater.

“Oh, I am well aware that she will find it funny.” Jaskier’s shoulders dropped as he huffed, dragging his feet in the snow to try and force the witcher into pity. Y/n had known all of the wolves before knowing Jaskier, so he was fully aware of the truth behind Eskel’s words. He had barely turned the corner when said witcher called to him. “I also trust her tracking skills, but yours are just as poor as the cubs. Consider it training, bard.”

Jaskier looked through all of the outlandish spots he could think of in the more common areas they were allowed in. Under tables in the kitchen, behind boxes and above scaffolding in the main hall. Behind and in suits of armor. Along the way, he found Lambert taking care of the laundry. He was pouring over a small jam stain on Ciri’s shirt when he cursed the bard out of the room. Jaskier understood, knowing the youngest witcher was embarrassed about his own infatuation and immense knowledge of clothes and fashion.

His nerves flared up, despite knowing Y/n was most likely fine. Jaskier had finally gathered the materials he had needed for them to spice up the night. There isn’t much you can do in terms of ‘kinky’ when you’re staying in a keep full of witchers, but he had come up with a fun idea. A nice bottle of Est Est, clean furs and an old smut book he had found. He had wanted them to wrap up under the furs and read it to her, seeing where the slow and soft touches would go whilst he read. Now, he was going to have to wait, his mind bouncing to the extreme until she shows herself.

He huffed, sitting at the edge of their bed, his hands scribbling over his cheeks. He sat there for a moment, his eyes going to the spaces in the room. He couldn’t wait for her, he needed to see her now, if only to simply lay his gaze upon her. For a moment, his eyes landed on the closet before moving on, though they quickly darted back. Jaskier had some important doublet hanging in the space, and the two had always made sure to keep the door closed. He got up to close it before hearing a small rumble. Dread made his stomach drop as he didn’t want to open the door. What if an animal made its way into the closet? Into their clothes?! Jaskier took a couple of quick, readying breaths before letting the door fly open.

There, wrapped in a make-shift doublet blanket, Y/n dozed on the closet floor. Her nose was buried in the collar of his baby blue overcoat, her knees pulled to her chest. Her head had slid to the corner, head tilting in a weird way that forced her airflow to come out as a grumbled snore. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face as he knelt down next to her. His hand gently cupped the joint between her shoulder and neck, thumb gently rubbing circles into her soft skin.

“Dear heart, it’s time to wake up.” He chuckled when a harsh huff pushed through her nose and she tried to shift away from the light creeping past his shoulders, trying to touch her from the window. “Y/n,” Jaskier cooed. “Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours.” It took another moment, but her eyes eventually fluttered open. Despite her seemingly rude behavior in her sleepy state, a loving smile spread. She curled back up under the doublets that she had been using, eyes falling close once more. “Excuse me, but it’s time to get up.”

“No..Ciri’s gon’ find me.” The sleep slurred her words and it came out as a rumble trying to be softened.

“The cub hasn’t been looking for a while now, Darling.” At that, an eye pried itself open to look at the bard, a sly smile spreading.

“Oh, goody.” She slowly pulled herself free from the closet, grabbing his hand, and pulling him to the bed. Her hands pushed his shoulders, Jaskier bouncing a little. She still had a smirk before flopping down next to him, nuzzling into the fur below her cheek. He rolled his eyes, chuckling. He pulled at the edge of the fur, pulling her closer to the pillows before grabbing a different fur on the bed. He flopped half of himself over her back, an arm, leg and most of his chest covering her as he pulls the new fur over the both of them. It might not be what he planned, but they have the rest of their lives for it.

[goldenlionimagines]

Seteth, his human s/o, and Flayn finding out that s/o is pregnant? Finding out, pregnancy, and birth if possible.

 Sure! I loved writing this request.

Strong

Word Count: 2,544

Warning: Spoilers for Seteth/Flayn’s Lore

 Pregnant? Pregnant? Pregnant.

 How did she get pregnant? Long story.

-

 A woman of faith would be the opposite description of what Y/N was. Did she believe in the  Goddess? No. Did her husband at the time? No. But a lot can change in three years. A lot can change when you wake up one night and decide you don’t want to live like this anymore. A lot of it is bound to happen when you aren’t strong.

 So, the next day, when your husband is at work, you pack a bag and leave it in the closet.

 He comes home. He tells you about his day, and about how he wants to try for a child tonight. He tells you about his shitty coworkers who believe in a Goddess that doesn’t exist. He asks you to fix him a drink.

 He doesn’t know how cheap sleeping medication is in the market in town. Or about the man at the market who said the Monastery tends to offer jobs quite regularly, to those in the faith at least. It isn’t the best idea, but it’s the only one that can get you away.

 He’s asleep in the next hour, just as the sun finally sets. A perfect escape for a girl who wants a new life. So, she left, off to a monastery. To seek help from a faith she didn’t know anything about.

 She took her Husband’s horse. A fully black steed, who’s saddle read 1180. It had the current year imprinted, rather than a real name. 

 She rode in at dawn two days later, the first woman she met was a girl named Marianne, who agreed to take her horse. She advised her to look for Seteth or Rhea, who were apparently the leaders at the Monastery. Rhea was the Archbishop. The leader in the teachings of Seiros. She wasn’t available at the time. So…

 She knocked three times on the office door she had been told was Seteth’s. “You may enter.” A calm voice stated. As she entered, it was the first time she had seen a person with green hair, and ears that looked as though they were out of a fairy tale book. “Is there something wrong, you seem surprised.”

 “I am not surprised, my apologies.” She sat down in front of him, looking around the office. He observed the way she looked at the writings of Seiros as though they were alien, and she looked at paintings and such in his office like that as well.

 “Are you unfamiliar with the teachings of Seiros?” Shit.

 “Erm, no, of course I-” 

 “Then what are the names of the Four Saints? Or even the Goddess herself?” Seteth asked. He watched her search with her eyes around the room. “The Goddess is Sothis. The four Saints are Cethleann, Indech, Macuil, and-”

 “Cichol. That one I do know. There was one religious man who tried to talk to me when I  was little, and the only name he got out before my Father dragged me away was  Cichol.” She said. “Both my parents and my husband believed that the faith was stupid, and not to be respected. I never got a chance to learn anything about the faith.”

 “I’m guessing you lied because you want a job here, is that correct?” He sighed. “I’m sorry, but positions here are only offered to-”

 “Big Brother? There are more papers Lady Rhea has requested you look though. They are for trade that the church handles.” A girl walked in with light green and curly hair. She was small. Was she a child?

 “They seem to be endless. Put them with the others.” Seteth said. As she did, he smiled as she exited. “Thank you Flayn.”

 “I can help with the papers, if you tell me what I need to know about them.” Y/N stated. “It would probably be faster than learning about the church, but I could do that while I’m here.”

 “How would you know what you need to in order to fill out the papers? It would take a while to memorize the information that you need to go at my pace.”

  “The girl who just walked in’s name is Flayn. Your name is Seteth. The Goddess’s name is Sothis, the Four Saints are Cethleann, Macuil, Indech, and Chichol. The girl who greeted me outside is Marianne… I can go on. My parents described me as having a perfect memory, because I can read or hear anything once and remember it perfectly.” She stated. “I need a job… more than that, a new life. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

 He sighed, looking at the stack of papers, and then back to her. He took a tiny book off his desk, and then looked at one of the bookshelves in his study. He grabbed a medium sized book, which definitely seemed to be a writing from the church. 

 “The small one is recent trades, trade partners, etc. You should have it memorized by tomorrow morning, if you want a job here. The medium book is the church rules, the most basic thing you’ll study while you work here.” He stepped towards her. “There should be a room among the knights that is unused. That is where you can stay while you work here. Tomorrow, you’ll work next to me, and I’ll help you along. If you want this to continue, eventually you will work on your own.” 

 She took the books, nodding. “You won’t regret this.”

 “I pray as much.”

 Seteth didn’t regret hiring her. Y/N did anything he could have hoped. Because of her memory, she didn’t have to shuffle through papers as often as he had done before. Soon, he was getting a chance to work on other things while she handled more of the paperwork side.

 Sometimes, she would ask questions about the faith and church as she learned, and he would answer to the best of his abilities while they worked. He enjoyed talking over the Saints with her, and had mentioned a few times how Cethleann was his favorite. 

 She had met the new professor a few times, as well as some of the students. Despite the fact that the Professor and Rhea would often seem panicked, Y/N had found an overall good quality of life.

 That was, until she walked in one morning to find Seteth after having not seen him in a few days.  He was a mess. Things were flung around his office, and she had used her key to his office to enter. 

 “Is everything alright? What’s wrong?” She shut the door and walked up to him. He looked at her, upset.

 “Flayn is kidnapped. I don’t know where she is. I’ve searched everywhere in the monastery, and now even Byleth is searching for her. What if she’s gone, Y/N? It would be my fault. I didn’t pay attention enough, or do well enough keeping her safe from harm.” He had his hands covering his face, so she grabbed his wrists, holding his hands away from him.

  “We will find her, but you look like you haven’t rested in days.” She said. “What do you need? I  can handle it until they find her.” 

 He looked distantly into her eyes. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes,  and he hugged her. “Lady Rhea is not allowing me to work until they find her. She is right in doing so, as I will not be alright until she is safe.” 

 She hugged him back, though she hadn’t expected the hug. “Then don’t be okay. Just take yourself from it. Why don’t you teach me about a book I haven’t read yet? I always find myself away in the conversations we have about them. Just tell me about one of the saints or something.” She said.

 Seteth pulled away.  He sat down. She sat down across from him. “There’s a story I know by heart, and I guess it’s one you can know too.” He wiped his eyes with his handkerchief, and began to tell the story of Saint Cichol, and his wife.

  When he was done, Edelgard had brought Manuela to the infirmary. Flayn was found that day.

-

 Never forgetting is a double edged sword. So is learning. So, when you learn things about a historical figure, and then they start correlating to your boss… what’s the approach?

Major Crest of Cichol. The green hair. The weird ears. The knowledge of all things Cichol and Cethleann. A sister that could pass for his daughter.

 So, the best thing is to make a joke about it while working into the evening.

 “Seteth, are you and Flayn actually Cethleann and Cichol?” She asked. He deadpanned, looking her dead in the eyes. “Wait, you’re not-” Seteth got up, quickly going to the office door and locking it. 

 “You- I-” He sighed. “Yes. We are. I suppose I have given you the information to put it together.” He walked  back to the desk, leaning back on it. “What are you planning to do with that information?”

 She thought for a moment. “Well, nothing. It just makes a prayer I made to the Saints a few days ago seem… a bit out of place.”

 “Oh? You were praying? Well, what did you pray for?” He seemed a bit surprised as she stepped closely in front of him.

 “Well, I prayed that this guy at the place I work would notice me the way that I’ve started noticing him.” She saw a small smirk gather at the corner of his lips. He put his hands on her waist, making her shiver a little. She blushed. “And that I wanted him to kiss me.”

 “Is that all you wanted?” He asked. He flipped their positions around, putting her up against his desk. She didn’t respond, and instead her face got more red. He leaned in, whispering in her ear, “You shouldn’t be thinking impure thoughts about the Saints, Y/N, they may hear you, and then I’d have to punish you for a breach of faith.”

 “Maybe I want them to hear me.” She whispered back.

 Just then, the door handle shook. “Big Brother? Are you in there?” It was Flayn at the door. Seteth stepped away as she unlocked the door with her own key. “I just needed aid with some things.” Flayn said.

 “Excuse me, I was just leaving, Flayn.” Y/N stated, quickly grabbing her things and heading out.

-

 5 years ago, she wouldn’t have thought of this moment. There was really no one more careful than Seteth. 

 They had been living in the monastery with a Prince who was a bit less than there mentally, and his entire crew of Nobles and Soldiers. Therefore, Y/N and Seteth had promised that they would only make each other feel good, even in these stressful war times. And of all the people Y/N had been talking over her symptoms with-

 “The spell confirms it. You are pregnant. Normally, this would be a happier time, but we are in a war.” Flayn said concernedly. “I guess the joy of life is good anyway, so congratulations.”

 “Flayn-”

 “Who is the father, anyway? I do tend to be a bit nosy.”

 Silence. The room was dead silent. She and Flayn were the only ones in that Clinic. They ended up just starting at each other for a little while. Flayn understood that meant she had been doing it with one person. Flayn took a deep breath in, before what came out of her mouth was,

 “ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

 “Shh, Flayn, please quiet down. Seteth could-”

 “Flayn? Is everything alright?” Seteth asked down the hall.

 Y/N shook her head at Flayn, and Flayn sighed, turning to the hall and yelling. “Yes brother, everything is okay.” Flayn then turned back to Y/N. “I’ll help you hide it as long as I can. Manuela should know more about herbs that can help your nausea than me.”

 “Thank you Flayn.” Y/N said. “Really. I don’t want to worry him.”

 “Neither do I, but just know that I am a bit… Excited. Even in the times we are in, a little one from Seteth… It makes me happy.” She smiled. “This will not be an easy secret to keep, and I’ll get you appointments with Manuela.”

 “Thank you again.” And Y/N whispered. “I know Seteth is your father. You don’t have to hide it from me.” 

 Flayn giggled happily. “Even better.”

 At first, it was an easy thing to hide. With the nausea medication, and biweekly meetings with Manuels, the baby was okay. Of course when Dimitri got better, Y/N and Flayn decided Y/N was becoming too hard to hide. It was time to let Seteth know, now that the Kingdom’s Prince had taken more pressure off of him. Life had become… As good as it could be for the times.

 Y/N was sitting at his desk. Her legs were on it, and Flayn was sitting next to her, smiling. He stepped into his office, crossing his arms. “This is a surprise. It’s early. And, you both know I don’t like when people put their feet on my things.”

 Y/N laughed. “I just thought the baby may be more comfortable this way.” She smiled at him, as he covered his mouth. Flayn began laughing at her father’s shock as well.  Y/N stood as Seteth came over and kissed her. 

 “I didn’t even notice- You two kept this from me for how long?” He asked.

 “Just a little more than the first trimester. But, it means we’re pretty much in the clear. And, it wasn’t too bad.” Y/N said. “I didn’t want to worry you while things were still happening with Dimitri. So we decided-”“Don’t you two hide things like this from me again.” Seteth motioned Flayn over with his hand, and hugged both girls. “But… I love you both. And it was most probably for the better.” They were all smiling after that.

-

 Manuela saw Y/N coming down the hallway to the clinic. She was leaning on the wall, her eyes barely focused. She came up to her, calling for the nurses in the monastery, and laying Y/N down on a bed. “You’re going to be okay. Seteth is coming back from Embarr soon. Just… Breathe.”

 In… out… pain. Was Seteth alive? In… out… pain. Was he coming? In… push… out… pain. Did they defeat Edelgard? In… Push… out.

 “It’s a boy!” said one of the nurses. All the nurses were talking and happy. They were wiping her off, and washing the baby as well. She saw someone kneel down next to her, and grab her hand.

 Y/N locked eyes with the man, and he smiled. “Sorry, did I miss anything?” He asked.

 “Just the bad parts.”

 The nurse handed Y/N and Seteth their baby. He was crying, so Seteth stroked his head as Y/N held him. “Of course he has green hair and eyes. He is your son. He’s so cute.”

 “He only gets to be cute because he had someone strong to bring him into the world.”

[fic-for-fic-sake]

Somewhere New

A/N: I’ve been in this self quarantine since Friday, Spain declared a state of emergency on Saturday, I am feeling depressed now. This is my solution. Also the garden is based off of the Keukenhof. 

Warnings: none 

Pairing: Loki x reader

They were calling it ‘social distancing’ but what it really felt like was absolute hell. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you had physical contact with another human being. Living on your own sounded great at first; nobody to leave dirty dishes in the sink or have loud annoying sex so you couldn’t sleep, and nobody to eat your food. When you moved into your new apartment in a new country in September, it was perfect. Only because you didn’t know what was to come. 

When you heard about the quarantine you were shocked to say the least. It seemed like everything was fine and then all of a sudden if you walked around outside without a specific destination in mind you were facing hefty fines. You called your parents and friends as much as you could but everyone you loved was an ocean away. You had never felt so isolated in your life. Soon, the apartment you cherished became your very own solitary confinement. You hated how your voice echoed through the hallway and how the only dishes in the kitchen sink were your own. 

You contemplated calling your boyfriend, Loki but it would be no use. He was away on a diplomatic mission in Asgard and you doubted he would have cell service where he was. You doubted he even knew the situation here on Earth. So instead, you threw on a new pair of sweats and took a nap, allowing yourself this one day to be depressed and give in to your emotions before you would do anything about it tomorrow. 

Your room was dark so you couldn’t say for certain what time it was but you felt a presence in the room with you and a calm hand resting on your shoulder, beseeching you to wake up. 

“Darling wake up, it’s me.” Loki whispered into the darkness of your bedroom. You turned around under the blankets to see the ethereal form of your beloved. He was still in his ceremonial regalia, black and green leathers and his gold armor glinting in the moonlight that slithered in through your curtains. You almost cried with how excited you were to see another person. You took him by surprise as you pulled him down onto your small bed with you, taking time to breath in his scent, winter pine. Perfect. 

“Not that I’m complaining but what has gotten into you pet?” Loki breathed into your hair, placing kisses there. 

“Haven’t you heard the news?” You question, voice muffled by his hair. 

“What news?” 

“Most of the world is in quarantine right now.” You responded, as he rolled off on top of you to lay beside you, propping himself up on his elbow. 

“What do you mean quarantine? What’s happened?” He pondered, his emerald eyes seeking out yours, looking every bit as worried as you had felt when you first heard the news. 

“There’s a new virus that’s been spreading for a few months now. A lot of people are getting sick and we don’t have a cure and we don’t have enough medical supplies to help everyone at once so the governments have advised their people to stay inside to give us a fighting chance.” You explained, as a tear rolled down your cheek, but Loki was quick to swipe it with the pad of his thumb. 

“And how are you feeling my darling?” He questioned softly, voice only above a whisper as you lay beside one another in the darkness of your room. At his innocent question you broke down crying and Loki quickly scooped you up into his arms, rocking you gently as he pressed soothing kisses into your hair. “Shhh my pet, let it out, tell me everything.” He cooed. 

“I just feel so helpless.” You choked out between sobs, “I I-haven’t been outside in f-four days.” 

“That’s unacceptable.” Loki replied, suddenly crawling out of your bed and rising to his full height. 

“Where are you going?” You asked weakly, rubbing tears from your eyes with the back of your hand. 

Loki leafed around through your closet before handing you a spring dress, “Put this on dove, I’m taking you somewhere.” 

You knew better than to ask further questions even though you were dying to know where he would take you. Surely nowhere on Earth because of the virus. Your heart bubbled with happiness as you threw the dress on over your body, fixed your hair, and threw on a pair of sandals before you signaled to Loki that you were ready. He extended his arm for you which you happily accepted as you circled your arms around his waist and his arm draped protectively over your shoulders. 

“You look exquisite my love.” He murmured as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Before you knew it a brilliant beam of light sucked you up in a kaleidoscope of colors and you clung tighter to Loki, afraid of what would happen should you let go. You shut your eyes as the sensations became too much for your body to bear but then you felt your feet rest against solid ground once again and Loki gently whispered for you to open your eyes. 

You complied and were immediately at a loss for words. You found yourself in the middle of a beautiful flower garden. Beautiful tulips of varying color and size stretched as far as the eye could see. Bands of red, yellow, orange, and pink flowers extended for miles as far as you could tell. You walked among the flowers, feeling their soft petals under your fingertips and smelling their floral perfume as you bent down. A pot of stunning hyacinths caught your eye, the deep purple hue enchanted you. You walked further as Loki followed behind you with a bemused expression on his face. You almost sobbed at the smattering of tulips of various colors all clustered together in perfect disharmony and you turned to Loki with tears streaming down your face as you asked him a question. 

“Loki, how-how is this possible? I’ve only ever seen a garden like this once in my life before.” You whispered as he pulled you closer to his body in a hug. 

“Do you like it?” He asked, pressing a light kiss to your lips. 

“I love it, but how?” You repeated, curious to know how a garden you’ve only ever visited once was before your very eyes. 

“This is mother’s garden but it’s fitted with a type of magic. It changes depending on who’s standing in it, ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’.” He quoted and you were dumbstruck but one thing stuck in your mind. 

“Your mother’s garden, as in Frigga...meaning.” 

“I took you to Asgard my love. We can stay here as long as you like until your planet is okay again.” He said as he pulled your chin up with his forefinger and planted a tender kiss on your lips. 

You answered his proposition with a languid kiss of your own, slowly looping your arms around the back of his neck and playing with his ebony locks. 

“Thank you Loki.” You whispered against his lips, breaking apart for a moment. 

“Anything for you pet.” He replied, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the gilded palace of Asgard where you would be safe.

[kolsenjek-blog]

Choosing an Assisted Living Community

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[israelskelton]

Full Name: Israel Jannik Skelton Pronunciation: Is-RYE-el YAH-nik Skel-TON Nickname/Alias: Is, The Mute, Pretty Boy, Skelton, Skeleton Meaning: God prevails. God is merciful. Origin: Scandinavian Title: Inmate Pet Name: N/A ID Number: 90311017 Signature:

Gender: Male Gender Role: Masculine Orientation: Homoflexible, Demiromantic/Polysexual Real Age: 17 - accelerated aging Age Appearance: 32 - accelerated aging Birthday: February 14th, 2011 February 14th, 1989 Birthplace: Copenhagen, Denmark Astrological Sign: Aquarius Zodiac Sign: Snake

Immediate Family: Aleksander James Skelton, Freja Skelton nee Jeppe, Gabriel Skelon (deceased brother) Distant Family: Mikhail  Skelton Mikhail Nielsen (half-brother), Josefine Skelton Josefine Nielson (half-sister) Parenting: Strict Upbringing Morals: Tell the truth, Keep your promises, Do not cheat, Be trustworthy, Respect others, Keep your self-control, Have integrity, Be accountable and take responsibility, Be loyal, Seek justice, Have humility Infancy: Nurtured Childhood: Sheltered - He was kept in a controlled and closely monitored environment Adolescence: He was still kept in a controlled environment but he was allowed a little more freedom Adulthood: Found out his life was completely falsified and a controlled experiment - rebelled and left the country to the United States to control his own life Coming of Age: 7 Evolution: He now knows the truth behind his origin and it’s caused him to be a bitter asshole

Species: Werewolf/Clone Ethnicity: Caucasian Blood Type: AB- Preferred Hand: Ambidextrous Facial Type: Heart Eye Color: Hazel Hair Color: Brown Hairstyle: Unkempt Skin Tone: Pale Complexion: Medium Makeup: N/A Body Type: Mesomorph Build: Muscular legs, muscular arms Height: 6′1″ Weight: 165 pounds Facial Hair: Beard unless shaved Shoe Size: 10 Birthmarks/scars: Neck scar due to full laryngectomy, self-induced abdominal scar, barcode tattooed on his inner right thigh Distinguishing Features: Neck scar, moles, self-induced abdominal scar, barcode tattooed on his inner right thigh

Health: Good Energy: Abundant Memory: Eidetic memory/Photographic memory Senses: Enhanced senses minus taste Allergies: N/A Handicaps: Mute Medication: N/A Phobias: Claustrophobia, Aichmophobia (Fear of needles or pointed objects), Atelophobia (Fear of imperfection), Atychiphobia (Fear of failure), Trypanophobia (Fear of needles or injections) Addictions: N/A Mental Disorders: Depression, Borderline Personality Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, PTSD, and Alexithymia

Style: Conservative Mode of Dress: Shirts half tucked, jeans cuffed, sweater sleeves rolled up, dress shoes or Converse high tops Grooming: Varies Posture: Relaxed Gait: Normal Coordination: Fit, quick reflexes Habits and Mannerisms: Lip biting, fidgeting, nervous laughter Scent: He smells like a hospital naturally, it’s a very strong clinical smell

Mood: Usually indifferent/laconic Attitude: Aloof, amused, sarcastic, cynical, playful Stability: Unstable moods due to BPD Expressiveness: Depends on the situation and who he’s around When Happy: Smiles, bites lip When Depressed: Closes into himself, easily agitated When Angry: Acts out, punches walls, curls lip into a snarl, extremely sarcastic

Current Residence: Covaire Chateau Family: Aleksander James Skelton, Freja Skelton nee Jeppe, Gabriel Skelton (brother/genetic template/deceased) Friends: Deacon, Seth, Gabe, Tesla, Theus, Effy. Enemies: The Alpha, The Factory, guards. Bosses: The Alpha. Rivals: Gabriel Skelton (deceased)

Wardrobe: Closet Equipment: N/A Accessories: Tattoos Trinkets: Leather watch Funds: N/A Home: Home Neighborhood: N/A Transportation: 2007 four-door Jeep Wrangler License Plate Number: BCKNTYM - he’s a nerd Collections: Cars, books, shoes, elements, and patterned socks Most valuable possession: His work Prized Possession: His work

Lovers: Seth Abrams, Gabe Lundell, Nolan Wade, Jeremiel Boese, Eden King Marital Status: Single - had an arranged marriage previously Sex Life: Decent Type: Storge (friendship love), Pragma (logical, “shopping list” love) Turn-Ons: Aftercare, anal sex (giving/receiving), blindfolds, biting, foreplay, fingers in mouth, hair pulling, ice, intelligence, kissing, licking, medium bondage, oral sex (giving/receiving), romance, roughness, scratching, tantric sex, teasing, vanilla sex Turn Offs: Breath control, choking, fear, medical play, mental torture, spanking, suspension play, scat, unintelligence, vomiting, watersports, weapon play Position: Switch but usually submissive Plays: Bondage Fetishes: Dominant partners Virginity: Far from a virgin Element: Air

Occupation: Former Microbiologist for the Factory Work Ethnic: Overworked, Work-A-Holic Rank: Previously Civilian now Prisoner Income: N/A Wealth Status: Previously Upper Class now Lower Class Experience: Microbiologist Organizations/Affiliations: Previously the Factory and Covaire Pack

IQ: 141 Education: University School: Attended a private school in Germany for primary school, Yale Grade: A’s Special Education: Dean’s List Social Stereotype: Nerd Degrees: B.S. in Microbiology with a double minor in Robotics and Chemistry, M.S. Psychology and a minor in Biochemistry, was in the middle of going for his Ph.D. in Genetics online at Yale Intelligence: Linguistic, Logical, Interpersonal Extracurricular Activities: Varsity Soccer, Varsity Lacrosse, Varsity Track

Religion: Norse paganism Morals: Seek justice  Crime Record: Aggravated Assault/Battery, Criminal Contempt of Court, two counts of Voluntary Manslaughter, two counts of First Degree Murder, Conspiracy, Cyber Crime, Bribery, Treason Motivation: Revenge Priorities: Himself/staying alive Philosophy: “It is not the strongest or the most intelligent who will survive but those who can best manage change.” Political Party: N/A Etiquette: Needs work Culture: N/A Influences: Charles Darwin Relates to: Stitch Traditions: Christmas, Occupation of Denmark/National Flag Day, Halloween, Saint Martin’s Eve, Advent, New Year’s Eve Superstitions: Knocking on wood

Main Goal: Blow Covaire to pieces Survive Covaire/the Chateau Minor Goals/Ambitions: Wants to be self-reliant, to prove his strength and resist weakness, to be important in his world, to dominate the environment, and to stay in control of his situation Dream Career: Work in Genetics to cure genetic diseases Desires: To protect himself (to be in control of his own life and destiny) Wishlist: Books, cigarettes Accomplishments: Graduating, landing a job at the Factory, not dying (yet) Greatest Achievement: Creating a chemical that strips the senses Biggest Failure: Getting caught and thrown in prison Secrets: How he got his scars, his arranged marriage due to the quality of genetics Regrets: Existing, getting caught, murdering those two Factory workers Worries: Dying in prison, getting taken back to the Factory, his senses being stripped from him Best Dream: Waking up a civilian again Worst Nightmare: Being harmed or controlled by others/being dissected Best Memories: Traveling across Europe Worst Memories: The torture he faced back in the Factory

Hobbies/Interests: Chemistry, anatomy, biology, languages, hacking, computers, robotics, architecture, collecting elements, book restoration, car restoration, model building, book collecting, hunting, photography, inventing, programming Skills/Talents: Hacking, lockpicking, languages, painting, identifying plants, tracking, foraging, inventing, singing, programming, cryptography, mathematics Likes: Traveling, the cold, smoking, competition, learning about different cultures, inventing, singing, programming, cryptography, mathematics, cuddling, music, hot chocolate, sweaters, winter, tea, hunting, reading, sleeping, food, photography, blankets, kissing, sex, football, concerts, partying, drinking, weed, painting, drawing, horror movies, and touching (hugs, hand-holding, PDA, etc.) Dislikes: Being forced to do things, broken promises, body odor, germs, liars, crowded rooms, small spaces, people, being touched, rain, thunderstorms, the heat, questions, funerals, heights, people who preach about certain issues/aspects of your/their life or decisions Sense of Humor: Dark/witty/sarcastic/ironic Pet Peeves: Loud chewing, when things are out of place, foot-tapping, being “manhandled”, stupidity, PDA, being called names, being picked up, cockiness Superstitions/Beliefs: Knocking on wood Dreams/Nightmares: Past memories, being dissected Quirks: Interested in conspiracies, prone to fidgeting when agitated, has a flirtatious disposition, prone to absentmindedly taking things apart, ambidextrous, has several parts of his body that are double-jointed and bend or flex in an unnatural or uncanny manner Savvy: Chemistry, Anatomy, Biology, Languages, Hacking, Computers, Robotics, Cult films, Elements, Drugs Can’t understand: Love Closet Hobby: Element collecting - The hobby of collecting chemical elements. He simply enjoys finding peculiar uses of chemical elements and enjoys studying the properties of the elements Guilty Pleasure: Baked potato pizza

Strengths: Good listener, Calm under pressure, Quick reflexes, Contortionist, Exceptional memory/genius IQ, Speaks multiple languages Flaws: Control issues, Self-destructive, Destructive idealism/ideology, Feelings of inadequacy, Healing factor Perception: Black and White Conflicts: Wanting affection but being afraid of love. However, the thought of love makes him curious Instincts: Protect those he has become close to Lures: Power, the helpless Soft Spot: Israel has a soft spot for the underdog or those who are afraid to speak up or feel suppressed. He has no shame when it comes to expressing his beliefs and opinions. When he sees that others are afraid to speak up, he can’t help but want to show them that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Cruel Streak: Israel tries hard not to be mean as it's an emotion he'd rather not deal with. He’s actually more cold and aloof but it can come off as mean. If he wants to teach a lesson to someone, he knows how to use his brilliance in the most upsetting way. He also likes to push people's buttons, and even when they beg him to stop, he will continue until they're way beyond upset. It's uncanny the way he knows exactly what will hurt them the most and how it gives him a feeling of having the ability to really mess someone up.

Powers/Abilities: Superhuman senses, strength, speed, reflexes, agility, dexterity, coordination, balance, durability, stamina, regenerative healing factor, disease immunity Origin: Genetics Source: Genetics Ability: Very adept Weaknesses: Weakened healing factor Immunities: Disease immunity Restrictions: While immune from diseases, he is still vulnerable to silver and wolfsbane. While Israel is immune, he can accidentally pass diseases, carried on him or his clothes, to humans. He also needs to contract the disease to develop any actual immunity. Alternate Forms: Wolf form Extra Anatomy: N/A

Favorite Colors: Blue, red Favorite Animals: Wolf Favorite Mythological Creatures: N/A Favorite Places: Berlin, Tokyo, Seoul, Paris, London, Copenhagen, New York, Chicago, Denver Favorite Landmarks: Eiffel Tower, Reynisfjara Black Sand Beach Favorite Flavors: Strawberry, lemon, chocolate, french vanilla Favorite Foods: Burgers, tacos, spaghetti Favorite Drinks: Earl Grey Tea, beer, coffee Favorite Characters: Robin Hood Favorite Genre: Sci-Fi Favorite Books: Origin of Species, Voyage of the Beagle, The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, The Descent of Man, Metaphysics, Materialism, and the Evolution of Mind: The Early Writings of Charles Darwin, Gray’s Anatomy, Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep. Favorite Movies: Blade Runner, Repo! The Genetic Opera, Star Wars, Back to the Future, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Ghost Busters, Heathers, The Lost Boys, The Shining, The Goonies, Jaws, A Clockwork Orange, Easy Rider, Midnight Cowboy, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Birds, In The Heat Of The Night, Bonnie and Clyde, Rebel Without a Cause, Lilo and Stitch. Favorite Games: Scrabble Favorite Shows: N/A Favorite Music: Anything Favorite Bands: The Police, Queen, The Smiths, Bob Marley, The Doors, The Beatles, Journey, Aerosmith, The Clash, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Green Day, Weezer, Blink-182. Favorite Songs: Roxanne by The Police, Message in a Bottle The Police, Three little birds by Bob Marley, Jamming by Bob Marley, Somebody to Love by Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, Killer Queen by Queen. Favorite Sports: Soccer Favorite Stores: Amazon Favorite Subjects: Biology, English, Chemistry, Anatomy, Physics, Foreign Language, Art Favorite Numbers: 6 Favorite Websites: Amazon Favorite Words: Ephemeral, Sempiternal Favorite Quotations:  “All things truly wicked start from innocence.” - Ernest Hemingway

Least Favorite Colors: Yellow Least Favorite Animals: Flies Least Favorite Mythological Creatures: N/A Least Favorite Places: Egypt Least Favorite Landmarks: The Egyptian pyramids Least Favorite Flavors: Black licorice, rubber tubing, cilantro, burnt coffee Least Favorite Foods: Cilantro Least Favorite Drinks: Tequila Least Favorite Characters: N/A Least Favorite Genre: Alternate history Least Favorite Books: Twilight Least Favorite Movies: Donnie Darko Least Favorite Games: War Least Favorite Shows: The news Least Favorite Music: Country Least Favorite Bands: The Bee Gees Least Favorite Songs: Achy Breaky Heart Least Favorite Sports: Golf Least Favorite Stores: N/A Least Favorite Subjects: History Least Favorite Numbers: 7 Least Favorite Websites: Wikipedia, Web MD Least Favorite Words: Defective Least Favorite Quotations: "Every dog has his day”

Languages: Danish, French, English, German, Latin, ASL, LSF, DGS, DTS, BASIC, C, C++, COBOL, Java, FORTRAN, Ada, and Pascal. Accent: Accent Voice: Voice Speech Impediments: N/A Greetings and Farewells: Fuck you and fuck you State of Mind: Fan-fucking-tastic Compliment: I like your face Insult: Can you explain what you were going for, exactly? Expletive: Fuck Laughter: Silent Tag Line: Fuck Signature Quote: I wanted to let a gut-wrenching howl rip from my disfigured throat toward those clouded skies. I wanted to say every swear word my mother had ever taught me not to say. I would have settled for a cut-off whimper, just as long as some kind of sound came from my lips.

Reputation: Mute First Impressions: Smartass, Prideful, Asshole, Amusing Stranger Impressions: Know-It-All, Smartass, Charming (?) Friendly Impressions: Humorous, Attractive, Wicked in bed Enemy Impressions: Waste of space, Prideful, Smartass Familiar Impressions: Cold, foolish, failure Compliments: Good listener, cute, funny, handsome Insults: Stupid, broken, stubborn jackass, defective Self-Impression: That he’s not as crazy as everyone thinks

MBTI Personality Type: INTJ Temperament: Melancholic Enneagram: The Challenger Ego/Superego/Id: Superego The Self: Find his purpose in life The Shadow: Compassion, Goodness, Love, Power The Anima/Animus: Moody, Bitchy, Poor relatedness, Behaviour in relationships designed to isolate the person from others Persona/Mask: Laconic humor

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Comparison: Puppy Symbol: Gene helix Song(s): What’s Up Danger by Blackway and Black Caviar, Wreak Havoc by Skylar Grey, 11 Minutes YUNGBLUD, Halsey ft. Travis Barker, Bury a friend by Billie Eilish, Copycat by Billie Eilish, I. The Crawl by Childish Gambino Vice: Pride Virtue: Diligence Defining Moment: Rebelling against his parents/Rebelling against Covaire Tropes: Abusive parents, Damaged soul, Might as Well Not Be in Prison at All, Xanatos Gambit, Bored with Insanity, They Called Me Mad!, Which Me?, Cloning Blues, Artificial Human, Resurrection Sickness, Genetic Memory. Inspiration: I actually created Israel 10+ years ago - originally he belonged to a Repo! The Genetic Opera Roleplay. One Word: Resourceful

[kylo-ren-writes]

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Request: anon requested:

“Is this cliche? Probably. Do I need it? Yes, yes very much so. I legit think you're an amazing writer. Maybe reader and kylo are dating/married (after Snoke's gone of course) and she's pregnant and he's very overprotective and somehow she gets seriously hurt or someone hurts her and he's just well Kylo about it and basically all hell breaks lose”

Warnings: angst, angry Kylo, mentions of blood, death.

A/N: tbh I felt a little weird writing this one because I don’t have a whole lot of knowledge on pregnancies and I haven’t read many of these, but I still liked writing it, and I hope it turned out okay. Thanks for requesting!

You were currently sitting on the floor of a storage closet, hiding from your over protective Supreme Leader husband, Kylo Ren.

Why? Because he was being way way way too overprotective of you. You understood his reasons, you were 4 months pregnant with his child. But that was the thing, you were only 4 months pregnant, and he was treating you like you were 9 months pregnant times three. You simply couldn’t take it anymore.

Kylo wouldn’t allow you to do anything by yourself or go anywhere by yourself. You weren’t even allowed to do your job, which he had promoted you to after the death of Snoke.

You were beginning to go mad.

This had become an often occurrence for you, hiding anywhere and any place that Kylo wouldn’t think to find you. But it never lasted long as he would always use the force to seek you out. He didn’t even panic anymore when he realized you were gone, he just reached into the force and found you in minutes. Bastard. But you understood why. Kylo was already naturally protective of you to begin with considering you were his wife. But he was taking it too far.

Since you weren’t allowed to do anything you were bored out of your mind, that was until you found the storage closet. Kylo couldn’t watch over you today so he entrusted two unlucky stormtroopers to watch over you. And of course, you being you, you decided to mess with them.

It was no secret that Kylo Ren had the largest temper in the First Order. Everyone knew that if they crossed him in any way that they would be met with his wrath. So, you thought it would be hilarious to make it seem like the stormtroopers had lost Kylo Rens pregnant wife.

Oh, Kylo was going to flip, you just knew it. This was going to be payback for the insufferable four months he had been putting you through. It brought a mischievous smile to your face. You felt bad that it would be at the stormtroopers expense, but you were bored.

You just hoped that Kylo wouldn’t kill them.

Unfortunately, however, you had been sitting in the storage closet for what you guessed to be a half hour, and you were starting to get very bored. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

Sighing, you got up, deciding that it wasn’t worth it. However, as soon as you got up you instantly felt dizzy. Leaning on the door you tried to steady yourself. Suddenly, you felt a burning pain in your abdomen. You clenched your teeth as you slowly slid down to the floor.

You couldn’t stand up while being dizzy and with the searing pain. You started to cry from the pain but also at the thought of something being wrong with your pregnancy.

You wanted to cry out for help but you couldn’t. You just sat there clutching at your abdomen with tears rolling down your cheeks.

Finally the pain became too much, and you fell unconscious.

________

Kylo was striding down the hallway on his way to the command bridge, General Hux had requested his presence.

The thought of you crossed his mind. After he was done here he would immediately check in on you. He couldn’t be as attentive with you today as he wanted to, but he had felt confident that you would be safe with the stormtroopers he had ordered to watch over you.

Kylo knew that you didn’t like the constant protection and attention but he didn’t care. You came first to him and your safety, especially since you were pregnant with his child. He would protect you and his child at all costs.

Kylo was about to walk into the command bridge when two stormtroopers walked up to him hesitantly, keeping a good distance between him. “Supreme Leader.” One of them said, his voice had fear in it. Kylo narrowed his eyes, as he recognized the two stormtroopers as the ones he ordered to watch over you.

Kylo’s expression grew dark, as he took careful steps towards the two stormtroopers. “Where is my wife?” He asked, his voice was low.

The second stormtrooper decided to be brave, “W-we lost her, Supreme Leader.” He stuttered slightly. “She-she ditched us, and we were trying to look for her... but we couldn’t find her.” The other stormtrooper pitched in.

Kylo reached his arm out, using the force to slam one of the stormtroopers against the wall. The other one backed away, fear radiated off of him. The stormtrooper fell to the floor and Kylo whipped out his lightsaber, slashing the stormtrooper that had backed away.

The stormtroopers body fell to the floor beside the other, now coughing, stormtrooper. Kylo grabbed him by his neck and stabbed his lightsaber through him, then letting his body fall to the floor.

Kylo didn’t acknowledge what he had just done as he quickly strided down the hallway, leaving the stormtroopers dead bodies on the hallway floor. Their blood stained the floor and was splattered on the wall.

The only thing that filled Kylo’s mind was you. He tried reaching out through the force to get a sense of where you were. Kylo had a bad feeling.

He stormed the hallways, yelling at anyone that got in his way. He had been searching for almost a hour, and he was getting desperate. He could sense something was wrong with you and he needed to find you.

Finally, Kylo could sense where you were. He stormed down the hallway, looking around frantically. He came near the storage closet that you were currently still laying in and sensed your presence in there.

He hurried over to it and ripped the door open. The room was dark but his eyes instantly fell on your semi unconscious body.

Kylo knelt down near you touching your face. He frantically called your name. “Y/N?! Y/N?!” He pulled you into his arms and you whimpered.

Kylo was relieved to know you were alive but the relief was instantly filled with even more worry at the sound of your whimper.

“Y/N?!” Kylo called to you, trying to get you to answer him. He moved your hair away from your face. “K-kylo...” you breathed. You were still in pain from your abdomen and you started to cry at the anxiety of there being something wrong.

As you started to cry Kylo lifted you up in his arms, making his way to medical bay.

“K-kylo.... I think...” you choked, “I think somethings w-wrong... with the b-baby...” your breathing was heavy and ragged as you sobbed.

Kylo quickened his pace even more, his long legs taking large strides. Worry consumed his features at your words. “It’s going to be okay.” Kylo tried to reassure you, his grasp on you tighter.

Finally you had reached the medical bay, Kylo yelled at a doctor to attend to you. The doctors face drained at the sight of the angry Supreme Leader but he quickly hurried over to you, nurses following behind him.

The doctor instructed Kylo to set you onto a bed, and the nurses started checking you over. Since there were no apparent physical injuries, the doctor asked Kylo what seemed to be wrong. “Uh.. w-what seems to be w-wrong?” The doctors voice was shaky, Kylo made him nervous.

“She is four months pregnant, she said she thinks there is something wrong with the baby.” Kylo replied hastily, his voice was dark.

You were laying on the bed, crying, anxiety rolling off of you as you watched helplessly. Kylo could sense your anxiety and fear. He moved over to your face, removed his glove, and started to stroke it. An attempt at trying to comfort you. Kylo removed the other glove from his hand and placed it on your arm.

Your wild eyes found his and he leaned down to where you lay, kissing your forehead.

The doctors and nurses did tests on you to figure out what was wrong. You were instantly relieved to know that there was nothing life threatening happening to your child. The doctor told you that you would have to take it a little easy and you cried with relief.

Kylo cupped your cheek with his large hand and kissed you. He looked into your eyes gazing at you. He was relieved that you and his child were okay.

You had never been more grateful that Kylo was protective of you, and you regretted ditching those two stormtroopers. But, over all you were just happy that everything was okay with your child.

“I’m sorry...” you whispered to Kylo, your eyes were filled with guilt.

Kylo furrowed his brows at your apology. “For what?” He asked, confused.

“For this. All of this. For ditching the stormtroopers.... for...” you trailed off, tears were running down your cheeks.

Kylo sighed and removed the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. Kylo knew you hated how much he had been looking over you during the last four months. Kylo also knew that because of that, that this was partly his fault.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, it’s my fault too.” He reassured you. “I’m too overprotective of you, and I’m not going to stop that, but I will try to give you some space.” Kylo finshed.

You smiled at him, reaching your face up to kiss him, and putting your hands on his face. Kylo kissed you back and when you two broke away he kissed your forehead.

Kylo’s eyes flitted down to your stomach area. He reached his arm down and placed his large hand on your stomach. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over your clothed skin.

You looked up at his face, smiling to yourself. Kylo was going to be an amazing father...

[timelesshealthclinic]

The 5 Steps to a Great Detox

Reasons to Detox

 Although Winter is still in full force, a lot of us are looking ahead, with anticipation for Spring. And there's no better time to prepare for the opportunities that abound in that season -- then now.

Springtime is the perfect season to clean out the clutter in your house and simplify your life. It is also the optimal time to detoxify your body, feel cleansed, energized, and on a path to healthy living. The process of detoxification is natural to any living organism and involves the removal of waste material from the body.

Our major organs of detoxification are the liver, kidneys, colon, and skin. A balanced and comprehensive approach to support and enhance the functions of each is critical for achieving optimal health and wellness. Detox programs vary widely and can last for a few days to as long as several months.

However regardless of how much or little time you can spare for a detox, each successful cleansing program must incorporate these 5 aspects:

Dietary     modifications

Supportive     supplementation

Lifestyle     suggestions

Mental/emotional     cleansing

Spiritual     health

5 Steps to a Cleansing Detox:

1. Dietary modifications

During a detox regimen, a whole-foods, hypo-allergenic diet is recommended. It is best to avoid any common, suspected and known food allergens such as wheat and dairy. It is also prudent to avoid most refined foods such as sugar, white pasta, white rice, white bread, red meat, and most packaged foods. Eat when you feel hungry. It is better to eat 5 or 6 small meals throughout the day rather than a few large meals, thereby maintaining stable blood sugar levels

Elimination of toxins is mediated by continuously voiding and replenishing body fluids. Drinking 2-3 litres of water daily helps maintain the body’s basic physiological functions and aids the kidneys in removal of waste products. However water should not be consumed with meals as this may interfere with digestive enzyme functioning. You can also jumpstart the liver detoxification process in the morning by drinking a glass of warm water with fresh squeezed lemon juice. It is best to wait 30 minutes before eating breakfast in order to maintain those helpful enzymes.

Focusing your diet on liver supportive foods is highly recommended even when not on a detox. The foods that protect the liver and aid in detoxification include the cruciferous family of vegetables such as cabbage, broccoli, and brussel sprouts. Dark leafy greens such as dandelion

and kale, are chock full of nutrients and fiber to help your colon eliminate effectively. Other helpful foods include garlic, beets, turmeric, green tea, and a variety of berries.

2. Supportive supplementation

Although a detox without additional supplements can still be effective many choose to add these as “boosters” to to augment the detoxification process. Specific supplements may be used to support the liver, aid kidney and bowel function as well as maintain a healthy digestive tract. With all supplements, an individualized approach is recommended and seeking advice from a trained healthcare professional is a must.

A list of commonly used supplements in a detoxification protocol include: alpha lipoic acid, curcumin, and N-acetylcysteine to protect the liver. Digestive concerns may be addressed by using probiotics to repopulate gut-friendly bacteria, soluble and unsoluble fibre to aid elimination, and digestive enzymes to help with the breakdown of foods. Often herbal medicines such as milk thistle, shisandra, artichoke and dandelion are used to support liver health.

3. Lifestyle suggestions

The way you live your life plays an enormous role in your body’s detoxification capacity and overall health. Incorporating some or all of these lifestyle changes will help you feel rejuvenated, relaxed and restored.

Exercise – is crucial in supporting     the cleansing process. It helps to relax the body and clear wastes. Any     non-stressful activity that you enjoy will help you rest, recuperate and     encourage your body’s detoxification. Aim for a frequency of at least     3X/week. Examples include: yoga, pilates, dance classes, tai-chi...etc.

Dry skin brushing – This easy and inexpensive     habit helps improve lymphatic drainage and has the added bonus of     exfoliating your skin. Simply use a soft brush or loofah and prior to     bathing, gently brush your body in long strokes. Start at the feet and     hands, working your way up, and always stroking towards the heart. This     can be done every day, year round. Skip this if you have any skin     conditions such as ezcema or unhealed wounds.

Contrast Showers - Alternating warm and cool     water water temperatures while in the shower increases circulation and is     a simple, effective way to improve your metabolism. Start with three     minutes of hot water (or as warm as you can tolerate) followed by less     than one minute of cold water (or as cool as you can tolerate). Repeat     this pattern at least twice, and always finish with cold.     Do not attempt this exercise if you have very low blood pressure or have     any serious heart conditions.

Rest- A critical component of allowing body to     detoxify and heal is ensuring adequate rest. Although sleeping 8 hours is     generally recommended, some people may need more or less to feel     refreshed.Take naps if you can and remember to always listen to your body.    

4. MENTAL/EMOTIONAL

Many of us carry around emotional baggage which can be detrimental to our health and wellbeing. It is a good idea to take steps to cleanse your mind and emotions as well. Some easy tips for this include;

Being creative - While detoxing, most     people experience greater work energy, more creativity and, naturally find     lots to do. This is a great time to try a new activity such as painting or     singing to express your inner self.

Cleaning up your environment - your room, desk, office,     closet, and home. Getting rid of physical clutter can be emotionally     liberating.

Avoiding negative influences- Some people may not     understand or support you. You know who those people are and how they     drain your energies. Remember to listen to your inner guidance and focus     on your own wellbeing.

Journaling - Allow yourself time at     some point in the day to write down your feelings and thoughts, positive     or negative, and reflect on the day and what you are learning about     yourself.

5. Spiritual

Regardless of your religious or spiritual beliefs, spiritual practice can affirm a positive attitude and support your health by providing the inner fuel to live with purpose and passion. Meditation and relaxation are other important aspects of cleansing which help clear stresses and bring us into contact with ourselves.

Detox IV Drip Therapy

If all of this sounds overwhelming -- or if you need an added boost, The Detox IV Drip helps clear out metabolic toxins with hydrating, liver-loving ingredients.

.

This treatment contains powerhouse nutrients such as Vitamin C, N-acetylcysteine, glutathione, selenium and B-vitamins to help you achieve a quick, safe, and effective detox.

.

Fun Fact: In Hollywood, this treatment is also known as the "Party Girl Drip", popular with celebrities and partiers alike for its hangover curing, hydrating, and energy boosting effects.

A Word of Caution

Although cleansing is not an easy process to stick with, most people feel better as their cleanse progresses—more vital, lighter, less blocked, more flexible, clearer, and more spiritually attuned.

 There are many benefits to cleansing your body and mind. however, certain individuals should not attempt it without supervision from a trained healthcare professional. These include diabetics, since a detox program may lower their blood sugar levels and their medication may need to be adjusted. People taking medications should also seek professional advice since the detox can increase the speed with which medications are metabolized and eliminated.

Pregnant or breastfeeding women should avoid doing an intensive detox program due to the potential of releasing toxins through the placenta or in breast milk. However a detox is usually highly recommended as preparation for conception for both parents!

Please be aware that people experience different reactions to detoxification and cleansing depending on how much the body needs to eliminate. Some common symptoms include fatigue, nausea, headaches, constipation or diarrhea, sweating, irritability, mood swings, insomnia, runny nose, inability to concentrate.

 These and others are normal reactions and can be lessened with increased water intake, exercise, adequate food intake and resting when needed. If, however, you continue to experience such symptoms, please seek the advice of a trained healthcare professional to help rule out other contributing factors.

 Try to start your cleansing process when you have a day or two off from work since the first day or two are the most difficult. However, these symptoms will subside and the benefits will be worth it!!!

[bloojayoolie]

Being Alone, Andrew Bogut, and Apparently: Big and gorgeous puppy boy. Friendly, Affectionate and Full of playfulness. Wags his tail softly. Takes treats gently. Sits, gives paw and stays on command. Is calm when passing other dogs. 1yr old, 70 lbs Muscles ID# 23400 Waiting to go home @ Brooklyn ACC ~ Returned after only 2 weeks ~ He’s a handsome big lug at 70 pounds and he’s full of playfulness, affection & love. Quite appropriately, Muscles is his name and he’s currently located at BACC <3 This Big Puppy Boy needs our help – MUSCLES is really a good boy, but unfortunately he shows quite a bit of anxiety when being left alone in his kennel or a home. Before his first stay in the shelter, he was found as a stray – so who knows what this young boy has been through. He may have been left behind by someone he really trusted and might still be traumatized by it. But we’ll never know. What we do know is that after being with his new person for 2 weeks, he was once again left alone in a kennel in a loud and scary shelter. Muscles is having trouble understanding why. His short-term owner reports him to be a good boy, friendly around children, calm when meeting other dogs, affectionate and of course – playful. Muscles is just a big puppy. He could use some perfecting of his doggy manners, but he is still perfect to be someone’s very best friend. Muscles is happy to make new friends, he softly wags his tail, takes his treats gently and knows several commands already. Muscles is also housetrained. When left home alone, he will sometimes chew on shoes, so plenty of chew toys would be recommended (and shoes put away in closets lol). But what Muscles needs first is to feel SAFE and loved, secure knowing he will not be left behind again. Please share this big boy for someone who can help him calm his anxiety and become the perfectly well behaved gentleman he is definitely on his way to becoming. VIDEO: https://youtu.be/iZmDis1VCLQ Muscles ID# 23400 BROOKLYN ACC 1 yr old, 67 lbs BROWN / WHITE MALE OWNER SURR, RETURN – Allergies, Separation Anxiety Intake Date: 04-10-2018 SHELTER ASSESSMENT: EXPERIENCED HOME / No young children (under 5) OWNER PROFILE: Date of Intake 10-Apr-2018 Basic Information: Muscles is a 1 year old, large mixed breed male who has no known health issues or injuries. He was adopted 2 weeks ago and was surrendered due to allergies in the home and the dog having separation anxiety. Previously lived with: 2 Adults How is this dog around strangers? Muscles was friendly and outgoing when meeting new people. How is this dog around children? Muscles has spent time around children and was relaxed and playful around them. How is this dog around other dogs? Muscles had not closely interacted with dogs, but when he passed them in the street he was calm and unbothered by them. How is this dog around cats? Muscles has not spent time around cats before. Resource guarding: Muscles does not have any reported resource guarding behavior. Bite history: Muscles does not have a bite history. Housetrained: Yes Energy level/descriptors: High Other Notes: Muscles owner had not bathed or groomed him yet in the home. He was not bothered by being pushed off the furniture or disturbed while sleeping. He was friendly and relaxed when people approached the house or yard. Has this dog ever had any medical issues? No For a New Family to Know Muscles is described as being friendly, affectionate and playful. He likes to follow his family around when they are home and likes to play with toy balls. He eats dry food and is house trained to go outside on any surface. He eats sneakers when they are left out in the home, so personal items should be placed away safely when the owner is not home. He knows the commands sit, stay, and shake. He does cry and whine when the owner leaves the house. He likes to walk and run on leash for exercise. BEHAVIOR NOTES Intake: Muscles was very wiggly and loose bodied during intake. He allowed to be scanned, collared, leashed, and photographed. Means of surrender (length of time in previous home): Owner surrender Previously lived with: 2 adults Behavior toward strangers: Friendly and outgoing Behavior toward children: Relaxed and playful Behavior toward dogs: Calm and unbothered Behavior toward cats: Unknown Resource guarding: None reported Bite history: None reported Housetrained: Yes Energy level/descriptors: The owners describes Muscles as friendly, affectionate and playful with high activity level in the household. SAFER SCORES (Performed during Muscle`s first Stay in the shelter - Intake 03/21/18) Date of assessment: 22-Mar-2018 Look: 1. Dog leans forward or jumps up to lick the Assessor's face with tail wagging, ears back and eyes averted. Sensitivity: 1. Dog stands still and accepts the touch, eyes are averted, and tail is in neutral position with a relaxed body posture. Dog's mouth is likely closed for at least a portion of the assessment item. Tag: 1. Dog assumes play position and joins the game. Or dog indicates play with huffing, soft 'popping' of the body, etc. Dog might jump on Assessor once play begins. Paw squeeze 1: 1. Dog does not respond at all for three seconds. Eyes are averted and ears are relaxed or back. Paw squeeze 2: 2. Dog gently places open mouth over the Assessor's hand without applying pressure. Toy: 1. Minimal interest in toy, dog may smell or lick, then turns away. Summary: Muscles was soft and social during his assessment though seems to lack impulse control as he was jumping up high and made several attempts to mouth (lightly) assessor. Summary (2): 3/22: When off at the Care Centers, Muscles becomes sexually motivated with the female helper dog, attempting to mount several times. He is persistent, and difficult to interrupt. He tolerates the greeter's constant body slams and paw slaps. Date of intake 21-Mar-2018 Summary: Wiggly, loose bodied, allowed all handling Date of initial 21-Mar-2018 Summary: Active, attention seeking ENERGY LEVEL: Muscles displays a high energy level in the care center. Muscles appears to be a young, active and enthusiastic dog; we recommend daily mental and physical stimulation as a way to direct his energy and enthusiasm. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION: EXPERIENCE (suitable for an adopter with some previous dog experience, especially with the behaviors outlined below) Recommendations: No young children (under 5) Recommendations comments: No young children (under 5): Based on Muscles's lack of impulse control coupled with his mouthy behavior, we believe he would be best set up to succeed in a home with no young children at this time. Potential challenges: Basic manners/poor impulse control Mouthiness/poor bite inhibition Separation anxiety Potential challenges comments: Mouthiness/poor bite inhibition: While he applies only light pressure, Muscles was mouthy throughout the assessment and is quick to put his teeth on skin. This is likely an attention-seeking behavior, but it should be replaced with an alternative behavior as it can frighten people. We recommend never playing with bare hands – always with a toy - and ending play or attention whenever Muscles puts teeth on skin. He should be rewarded with attention and treats when he stops and/or when he is seeking attention in alternate ways. Basic manners/poor impulse control: It is recommended that default behaviors such as "Leave it", "Sit/Stay", "Down" are reinforced to substitute any frustration and teach Muscles to control his impulses instead of simply reacting; proper management is also advised. Force-free, reward based training only is recommended. Separation anxiety: Muscles is reported to experience separation anxiety in a home environment. When left alone he is destructive or household/personal items. We recommend that potential adopters feel comfortable with separation anxiety behaviors and prepared to manage and positively modify them should they appear in a home environment. MEDICAL EXAM NOTES 11-Apr-2018 Progress Exam Currently on trazodone 100mg PO BID, continues to show extreme anxiety in kennel (barking, crying out loudly consistently) Increasing trazodone - 200mg PO BID. Continue to monitor 10-Apr-2018 DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: 2 Microchip noted on Intake?y Microchip Number (If Applicable):981020025295515 History :return Subjective: Observed Behavior -playful, jumpy Evidence of Cruelty seen -n Evidence of Trauma seen -n Objective T = P =60 R =pant BCS 5/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted Oral Exam: clean teeth PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: 2 testes MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment: healthy Prognosis:good Plan:neuter SURGERY: Okay for surgery ------------------------------------------------------ MEDICAL EXAM NOTES first Stay - Intake 03/21/18 26-Mar-2018 Progress Exam New CIRDC noted on rounds History: Intake 3/22, started on trazodone. APH 3/25-started on doxycycline for CIRDC Subjective: BAR. Mild CIRDC signs. Not interested in food. Ate one treat but not food. Objective EENT: serous nasal d/c bilaterally, no ocular d/c ou H/L: Normal RR/RE, eupneic MSI: Ambulatory x 4, good haircoat CNS: mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment: CIRDC Not eating Plan: Continue doxycycline 10mg/kg PO SID until 4/8 Iso Start cerenia 1mg/kg SQ SID x2d until 3/27, recheck tomorrow +/- add injectable baytril Continue trazodone until 3/29, daily observation by medical and behavioral Prognosis: good 25-Mar-2018 Progress Exam New CIRDC noted on rounds History: Intake 3/22, started on trazodone. APH Subjective: BARH. Coughing and sneezing with nasal d/c. Very anxious and screaming in his cage. Objective P = wnl R = wnl BCS 5/9 EENT: serous nasal d/c bilaterally, no ocular d/c ou, clean ears Oral Exam: clean adult dentition PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupneic but coughing and sneezing ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: MI, 2 testicles descended MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, good haircoat CNS: mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment: CIRDC Plan: Start doxycycline 10mg/kg PO SID x14d until 4/8 (first dose already given this morning) Recheck at day 7 Move to iso Continue trazodone until 3/29, daily observation by medical and behavioral Prognosis: good 22-Mar-2018 Progress Exam History : Stray intake today, 3/22 Subjective: BAR. Barking and screaming in his kennel. Very anxious. Objective: EENT: Eyes clear, no nasal or ocular discharge noted H/L: Normal RR/RE, eupneic MSI: Ambulatory x 4 CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment: Apparently healthy Very anxious in kennel Prognosis: Excellent Plan: Continue to monitor while at BACC Start trazodone 100mg PO BID x7d until 3/29 Daily monitoring by behavior and vet services 22-Mar-2018 DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: ~1yr Microchip noted on Intake? no History : Stray Subjective: BARH Observed Behavior - Active, attention seeking, allows all handling Evidence of Cruelty seen - no Evidence of Trauma seen - no Objective P = WNL R = WNL BCS 5/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted Oral Exam: Teeth clean, pink mm PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: Male MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment: Apparently healthy Prognosis: Excellent Plan: Continue to monitor while at BACC SURGERY: Okay for surgery ------------------------------------------------------ PLEASE MESSAGE US FOR INQUIRIES AND FOR ASSISTANCE. PEOPLE WHO WANT TO FOSTER A DOG, PLEASE PM US SO WE CAN PRE-SCREEN YOU IF YOU QUALIFY AS A FOSTER. ADOPTERS WHO CAN GO TO THE ACC IN PERSON, CAN CONTACT THE ACC DIRECTLY., THOSE WHO NEED HELP WITH TRANSPORT, OR CANNOT GO TO THE ACC IN PERSON, PLEASE PM US FOR ASSISTANCE. KEEP IN MIND THAT NEW HOPE RESCUES WILL ADOPT DOGS ONLY TO NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME, AND NORTHERN VA. BEYOND THESE STATES, YOU MUST GO TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON TO ADOPT. We are not the ACC, and we did not make these rules. We only help these dogs get seen and help people to save them. If you would like to foster or adopt a NYC ACC dog, and can get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process, you can contact the shelter directly. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) If you cannot get to the shelter in person, but you live in NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA, please PM our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a NYC ACC dog. Shelter contact information: Phone number (212) 788-4000 (automated only) Email adopt@nycacc.org Addresses: Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard Brooklyn, NY 11208 Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St. New York, NY 10029 Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road West Staten Island, NY 10309

[arazialotis]

The Thunder Rolls - Part 2

Pairing: Dean × Reader

Word Count: About 3800

Summary: Dean and Sam are on a case in your hometown but the trail is running cold. Dean is hoping to make a move before they leave town and start another case. Based of the Garth Brooks song with the same title.

Part 1

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Swearing

Please, if you are or ever find yourself in a situation of domestic violence, *do not hesitate* to reach out for help, support, or just to talk to someone about what is going on. The United States National Hotline (24/7 and Confidential) is 1-800-799-7233. This blog (http://togetherweare-strong.tumblr.com/helpline) also has hotlines for multiple other countries.

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. 

---

By the time you rolled home it was a full downpour, it was obvious the storm was only building and there was no clear end in sight. You showered to wash away the burden of a full work day but it still had not calmed you. Travis was still not home. Guilt hit you as you imagined him partaking in an affair. What if he was caught in the storm or worse, was in an accident. You dialed his number for a second time that evening but it only rang to be picked up by his voicemail. Surrendering, you dressed in your plaid flannel pajama pants and a gray v-neck t and went to find the relief of sleep.

As much as you tried to close your eyes in bed, you tossed and turned as your thoughts raced. Eventually, you couldn’t take lying down any longer. You paced the hallways by the front window waiting for his truck to pull in. You bit the nails of one hand while the other clung tight to your cell phone not wanting to miss his call if it came. A big crack of lightning flashed across the sky causing you to jump.

Rarely did you use alcohol to self medicate, seeing what it had done to Travis, but you felt as if your heart would beat out of your chest. You poured out whiskey over two cubes of ice, at least two shots worth. The whiskey burned your throat as you forced a healthy dose down causing you to hiss at the pain. Travis’ preference was more harsh than it was balanced, but it continued to warm you on its way down. You pressed the cold glass to your head to try and help numb your thoughts. It worked for a while, you lost track of time as you leaned against the counter.

It was 3:30 in the morning when you immediately noticed the light of headlamps sweep through the house being such a contrast to the regularly sharp flash of lightning. You instantly poured the remainder of the drink into the sink and left the cup on the counter. You practically ran out the front entrance and embraced your husband as soon as he shut the pick up’s door.

“I was so worried you may have been in an accident.” You explained seeking out comfort from him but he remained rigid.

That’s when you smelled it. Hidden between the scents of rain and alcohol, you smelled a sweet perfume, something you rarely, if not ever, wore. The lightning cracked in the sky and a roll of thunder roared loud enough to shake the ground. You knew your suspicion of an affair was true. You back away slowly and turned to run inside trying not to let him see you cry.

“Y/N.” You heard him call your name. You continued to run back into the kitchen, leaning over the sink afraid you may heave.

“Y/N.” His voice grew louder and every time it felt like a knife stabbing you in the gut.

When he reached the kitchen, he grabbed and yanked your wrist with such force it caused pain to ripple up into your shoulder in order to face him instead of the sink.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. “How could you?” You demanded with tears and he answered you with a crooked smile. “Tell me Travis! How?”

“I put up with so much, you ungrateful bitch! Always whining and complaining, saying how I am not good enough for you.” Travis yelled.

“Are you kidding me?” You almost laughed at your newfound courage. “I have worked my ass off to make this work! I have been loyal, patient, understanding, submissive…” He cut you off smacking you hard across face, cracking just like the lightning outside. You held your face in complete disbelief as tears started to well up from the shock, he had never hit you in the face before.

“You selfish bitch,” he spat and threw you against the counter. “What I have to put up with. You think I wanted this life, to be tied to you.” You fell to the ground. “You are pathetic, you know that? So what, I have been sleeping around? You are a bore in bed and pitiful to look at.” He kicked you in the chest. “Who would want to look at those hideous bruises and scars while fucking anyway?”  

You gasped for breath and tried to crawl away. He stalked you like a cat stalked its prey, watching you attempt to escape but never giving you full control. You crawled into the hallway and struggled to pull yourself up onto two feet. Travis assisted you by grabbing your hair and yanking you up. He smashed you against the wall and pinned you to it with his body. His forearm pressed against your throat making it difficult to breathe.

“But that’s never stopped me, has it?” His fingers slipped under your shirt and caressed your side. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your face. “You like it, don’t you.” He said it in a way that sounded like a revelation. “Being pushed around, roughened up… submitting.”

His fingers slid along the rim of your pajama bottoms and upon reaching the front undid the ribbon with one pull of the string. You sensed something was wrong about him, he typically didn’t give a damn about you or show this much malevolence. Maybe it was just the night because you felt different too, like the storm outside was raging inside your own heart.

“Not today Travis,” you sneered and spit in his face using it as a distraction to create a bit of space to knee him right in the groin.

As Travis groaned in pain, you sprinted down the hallway into the bedroom. You knew he would not be far behind and cried out in pain as you strained yourself pulling the dresser to act as a barricade. You frantically searched in Travis’ nightstand and under the bed for a pistol you knew he kept somewhere. The pounding came from the other side of the door as he called your name. You were terrified to go closer, but you had to search the dresser. Your heart accelerated as you looked through his drawers and he continued to pound. But you found it at last.

You retreated to the back corner of the room praying to God you wouldn’t have to use it. You didn’t have a lot of experience with guns, but you had enough. You checked to see if it was loaded, switched the safety off, and cocked it aiming it at the door. Eventually, the pounding at the door ceased and you sighed in relief hoping he would leave you alone for the rest of the night.

All was quiet, aside from the drops of rain hitting the window. You allowed yourself to slide down the wall and brought your knees to your chest, still not letting the pistol out of your hand. You were finally calm enough for your thoughts to start racing again. You had to leave him, you couldn’t keep living like this. Your mind went to Dean, would he be willing to help? He was the only thing different in this town, it was clear no one here would help you. They would suggest marriage counseling through the church or trying to make Travis happier. It wouldn't make a difference when every other night you would put up with it, control yourself, and behave and what seemed to be turning slowly into the need to fight for your life.

You wanted to pack a bag, to leave tonight, probably stay in a motel until you had things figured out. As you got up off the ground, you winced from the pain in your back and ribs. Before you even had the chance to start your way to the closet, the door flew open with such force that the dresser slid across the room smashing into the wall and causing the picture window to crack. You screamed in fear seeing Travis walk through, a look of murder in his eyes.

Without thinking, you drew up the pistol and shot in his direction, crying out as you did. Your ears rung, yet the room was silent, and felt wrong. Travis was still standing, with his eyes closed. You saw the bullet hole directly in his forehead and blood on the wall behind him. You watched in horror as he remained standing confused on why he wouldn't have collapsed.

Through the ringing in your ears and the thunder, you heard a low chuckle. The lightning flashed and his eyes opened to pitch black. You put your free hand over your mouth to afraid to make a sound.

“What a rush to the head!” He exclaimed excitedly, his eyes flashing back to normal only with streaks of blood through them.

Your heart stopped, this wasn’t real, you had to be hallucinating. But there he was clear as day. You were frozen with panic.

He felt the back of his head. “Now, that’s going to take a while to patch back up.” He slyly looked at you and licked his lips. “But you’ll be a lovely little distraction.”

You held up the gun again at his threat, unsure it would do any good but letting him know you were not going down without a fight.

“You’ve grown feisty,” He observed. “I think that should make this all the more fun.” He purred.

As he took a step towards you, you unapologetically fired two rounds, one missing him all together and the other landing in his chest. “You're going to regret that.” He hummed happily.

You fired another shot into his shoulder but it was clear you were not stopping him, just slowing him down. Tears slide silently down your face as you felt defeated and expected the worse, when your brain took control of your body not yet giving up. You fired again, two shots, this time at the window. It cracked even further and by the time you jumped over the bed and launched yourself into it, it shattered, setting you free into the open.

No time was wasted to look back, you took off running through the storm, within seconds soaked by the pouring rain. You ran as far as adrenaline would take you. You stopped to catch your breath and realized you were in the downtown area, which for this town was only about two blocks worth of businesses. Not wanting to be exposed, you led yourself into a small alleyway between two buildings. Leaning your back against the wall, you tried to catch your breath but your whole body was shaking with adrenaline and fear. The gun seemed glued to your hand almost unwilling to let go.

You allowed yourself a couple of sobs, but when it felt like the sobs were needing to be turned to screams of horror, you forced yourself to stop not wanting to wake someone.  Distracting yourself, you walked the streets and alleyways trying to come up with a plan. Your mind flashed to Dean and you cursed yourself as his card was in your purse that was still at home. As you walked, you tried to convince yourself it was for the best, it wouldn’t be good calling a fed with a gun in your hand, trying to explain you had just shot your husband three times but that he was unaffected and wanted to kill you slowly enjoying every bit of it.

Upon your feet leading you to the only motel downtown, you realized you wouldn’t be able to stay there having no money on you. There was no question you could go to your family’s house. They would start asking questions and accusing you. Not to mention probably calling Travis, alerting him to your location.

That’s when you saw it. A familiar old black car. Something in your memory clicked but it took you a while to visualize it. You remembered Dean and his partner earlier this week, chatting at the diner, leaving payment on their booth and then walking outside. Getting into that car and driving off. Your body dragged you closer to the car without your full awareness. You guessed which hotel room was theirs on the bases of where the car was parked. Your free hand raised to knock on the door as your whole body continued to shiver. A voice inside your head said this was the most stupid idea you had ever had, but you went with your gut and tapped on the door three times.

---

The lead early the evening had sounded promising but turned into a total bust. Sam had centered a few of the crimes to a nearby factory. There was definitely sulfur in the men’s locker room but after hours of interviewing the crews and giving them a plastic water bottle containing holy water, Dean ‘accidentally’ spilling some on those who would not drink, it was clear the demon had moved on or his vessel worked another shift.

Sam had found another case a couple states over and argued that it was more pressing than the current one. Dean argued back saying that they weren’t going to leave a job only halfway finished. Sam agreed to one more day of interviewing 1st and 2nd shifters at the factory, but was not going to agree to stay any longer.

The storm got worse but both Sam and Dean were able to fall asleep. Dean was traditionally a light sleeper without alcohol and tonight's beers wore off early. When he woke from dreams he assumed it was a clap of thunder but the pounding continued. He concentrated harder when the pounding halted and then repeated. It finally hit him that someone was knocking at the door. He picked up the alarm clock bringing it closer to his face to get a clearer view of the time but the hour of the morning confused him more. He grabbed his pistol from under his pillow and then threw the pillow at Sam waking him up.

Sam jolted up looking around for trouble, but saw Dean with his pistol in hand and finger to his lips. Dean nodded to the door with his head and the knocking repeated again. Sam got up and found the demon knife stepping behind his brother ready for whatever was on the other side of the door.

The motel had no peep hole so Dean put his ear against the door looking for any other clues. He heard ‘please’ barely whispered and then just two more very soft and gentle knocks. Dean put his pistol down and motioned to Sam to lower the knife. Sam did, but did not let go of it.

Dean opened the door to the storm outside and there you were right in the entry way soaked to the bone, shivering and the pistol still in your hand. He could see that your cheek was red and swollen and that your gray t-shirt didn’t hide your bruises as well as your shirt from the bar.

It took a second for Dean, still in the haze of sleep to recognize you but when he did he quickly guided you into the room. “Y/N?” He asked worried.

Sam closed the door and turned on the light as Dean led you. Sam went for the holy water, but Dean held out his hand to pause him. Dean guided you to sit down on his bed, you remained silent formulating your story, preparing for an FBI interrogation. Neither of them asked you any questions, Dean went to work trying to comfort you while Sam eyed you suspiciously. Dean wrapped two towels around your shoulder and used a washcloth to try and dry your hair when you didn’t respond to him offering it to you.

Your hair was still wet but no longer dripping, and Dean knelt down to try and meet your downward facing gaze, hoping to revive you from your catatonic state.

He brushed a strand of hair that was in your face aside and simply asked you, “Y/N, what happened?”

The pistol finally fell from your hand, you curled in on yourself not wanting them to see your weakness, but you began to weep. Dean looked at Sam for some direction, but Sam shrugged his shoulders. Dean picked up your pistol and unloaded it, seeing that several rounds were missing. He clicked the magazine back into place, put the safety on, and tossed it to Sam.

He sat on the floor while you continued to cry not wanting to press you for information and upset you further. You settled down a bit and wiped your tears with the towel that was still wrapped around your shoulder. Now that adrenaline was out of your system and you felt somewhat safe, the full pain from the evening started to set in on your face, wrist, chest, and back. You were determined not to become sick from it in front of them. Sam brought you a glass of water. Taking a few sips helped you calm down further. Dean knew he had laced it with holy water and Sam was more at ease when you showed no reaction.

You set the glass down on the counter, trying as much as you could to avoid eye contact with either of them ashamed of what you had done and bringing it to them. Dean moved from the floor to the bed to sit straight across from you. He gently reached for your hand trying to direct your attention to him and give you a sense of support.

You let him take your hand, he examined your wrist where light bruising had started from how hard Travis grabbed it. He closed his eyes for a few seconds deciding where to start again.

“Hey, Y/N?” He asked seeing if you would react better this time. “Me and my brother, we’re not actually FBI agents.” Sam flinched nervous at where Dean was going. “We use it as a cover to help people who are in danger of things that can’t be explained. So even if you feel like you did something bad, you can tell us, we won’t hurt you or lock you up.” He tried to explain as calmly and softly as possible.

His steady voice soothed you and for some reason, maybe it was the shine of his eyes, you knew that you could trust him.

“I…. I…” You stuttered.

Sam finally popped in offering support as well. “It’s okay, take your time.”

You took a deep breath and forced the words out as softly as you could. “I shot him.” You finally confessed.

Dean knew you meant the asshole who covered you in bruises and tried not to take delight in your retaliation against him.

“Who?” Sam inquired.

“Travis, my husband.” You were terrified even to mention him. “The way he came at me tonight, I couldn’t…” “You don’t have to explain yourself. Not to us.” Dean stated cutting you off already understanding half the reason why you did it.

You looked Dean straight in the eyes. “He’s not dead.” You confessed panicked. “I don’t know how, or I must be going crazy, but I shot him three times, straight in the head, and he walked it off like it was a simply an annoyance. He’s going to kill me Dean! He’s going to kill me.” You explained becoming more hysteric.

Dean jumped from the bed he was sitting on to yours and wrapped his arms around you, Sam was quickly by your side as well kneeling on the ground.

“Hey, hey.” Dean tried to sooth you. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He repeated over, rubbing your shoulders looking at Sam knowing they had found their demon.

“Y/N, I know it is hard to talk about, but what else was off tonight?” Sam inquired wanting to make sure. “Any strange detail could be important.”

Dean didn’t let go of you which is probably the only reason why you were able to continue. “He came home late. He just started cheating on me, I didn’t want to believe it, but tonight there was this perfume on him, that wasn’t mine. And I, I just couldn’t put up with him anymore. He’s always been rough, but tonight, it was like he was seeking blood. I didn’t mean to shoot him, I just wanted to scare him. But he forced the door open so hard, I don’t know where he got the strength. And I was just so scared I pulled the trigger. I don’t know how it landed right between his eyes, but it did and he just stood there, unfazed. I swear when he opened his eyes they were pitch black.” Tears started spilling out again.

Dean curled you into his chest. “We’re going take care of this.” You could feel his voice vibrating through his chest. “He’s never going to hurt you again.”

“How?” You asked not seeing a way to stop him if bullets wouldn’t.

“You let us worry about that.” Sam said not wanting to yet explain demons and monsters to you.

Dean noticed you were still shivering. “Why don’t you take a shower to relax and warm up? Then maybe get some rest?” Dean suggested. You nodded your head. “Come on.” He guided you up and to the bathroom.

He turned the water on and adjusted the temperature for you and brought you one of his dry t-shirts and sweatpants. Steamed started to fill the bathroom and Dean was about to close the door.

“Please, don’t leave.” You pleaded wanting them to stay at the motel.

“We’ll be right out here, call if you need anything.” He explained and waited for you to nod in agreement.

He closed the door but left it open a crack for your comfort. Sam was back on his laptop looking up information on Travis. He had quite a record of small misdemeanors and worked at the factory they had gone to earlier in the evening.

“He’s definitely our guy.” Sam observed.

“Even if he wasn’t, I still would go over to teach him a lesson.” Dean said sternly. “No one deserves what she’s been through.”

“We have to be careful, he already knows we are in town. He’ll smoke out again if he sees us coming.” Sam explained.

“Yeah, I’d like to get Y/N’s input on his behavior lately once she’s gotten some rest. Where he’s been going, any patterns she knows off. We should check the factory again to and see if he’s been showing up for shifts.” Dean added.

“We could use her…” Sam suggested.

“No, out of the question.” Dean demanded. “She can’t even get through a sentence without panicking, no way we are using her as bait.”

“Then what’s your plan?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find another way.” Dean stated firmly, trying to think of something while rubbing his forehead.

----

Click Here for the finish!

[piecesofscully]

Cancer Arc, part 3: I See You

This is the third installment of my Cancer Arc Series.  

Part 1: Mint Chocolate Chip

Part 2: Love Me Tender

Author: @piecesofscully

Rating: PG-13/R

Timeline: season 4-5ish

A/N: Thank you to the beautiful @kateyes224 for the beta and unconditional love, and thank you to @2momsmakearight and @thegilliantimes for the unending support and brainstorming. 

Weeks Later

“He said that the tumor hasn’t grown, and that the cancer hasn’t metastasized.  That’s good news, Scully, real good news,” Mulder says as he turns the key in the ignition.

“He also said that it hasn’t decreased in size,” I mutter.  I instantly regret allowing the words to fall from my lips, my negativity effectively launching him into a speech that borderlines a sales pitch regarding homeopathic therapies and their healing benefits as he steers us out of the parking garage and onto the open street with such a finesse that only a number of recurring instead of recurring visits could produce.  His voice filters through the stale air of the car that’s rapidly growing warmer, an occasional phrase catching my attention more than others, hanging so briefly in the space between us then disappearing just as quickly, like the blinking of fireflies in an open field.

Probiotic foods, immune system boosting supplements, juicing.  I feel myself visibly flinch when I hear the words “coffee enema.”

I can’t help but smile.  It is times like this that he sounds just like Melissa, so much so that I can practically hear her saying the words as they leave his mouth, making the dull ache I feel in my heart evolve into a sharp stabbing reminder of her profound absence.  As he barrels on to suggest meditation as a stress reducing technique, I find myself wondering if he has, in fact, received a visit from beyond the grave.  Perhaps he’s searched her out, seeking her guidance in how to best help little sister Dana, via séance or Ouija board.  I momentarily consider interrupting his infomercial-worthy monologue to ask if he has a preferred method for contacting the other side, but, instead, just nod in agreement to whatever he’s saying, suddenly wondering if he’ll try to contact me once I’m gone.

I reach over and graze my fingers against his thigh, suddenly desperate for contact, and his hand immediately vacates its position on the steering wheel to grasp my hand and pull it close.

As I watch the world pass by in a grayish blur behind the passenger side window, I strain my eyes in an attempt to focus on one simple landmark through the stretch of glass just inches from my face.  Streaks of vibrancy fade into the bleak backdrop that’s laid out all around me, the once vivid scenery is now dull and subdued. I sigh as a familiar ache creeps up the length of my back to my neck, a dull headache recently taking up a semi-permanent residence in the base of my skull.

“You ok?” He asks, squeezing my fingers.

I nod slowly, and then shrug my shoulders.  “I’m fine.”

“Scully.”

“How much longer?” I ask, knowing that we have approximately 5 more minutes until we arrive at the front door of my apartment building, but I want to change the subject.

“About 5 minutes, and you said you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

I sigh again.  “Do what, Mulder?”

“Dismiss the question by saying you’re fine.”  His jaw is clenching, and I can tell that he’s struggling to keep his voice even which makes my blood boil.

“What do you want me to say?  I have a headache, Mulder.  I always have a headache.”

“Do you want something for it?”  His voice is low and gentle, just a breath away patronizing, though I try to remind myself it’s unintentional.

“No.  You know I hate taking those pills.”

“But they’ll help-“

“I said no,” I reply through gritted teeth.

“Scully, you were prescribed them so that you don’t have to live in pain.”

“Live?  Live?!  You call this living, Mulder?  Doping myself up on pain medication to alleviate the horrendous side effects of my treatment?  Turning my brain into such mush that I can’t even think straight, just to be able to function through the pain caused by the treatment for the cancer that is slowly killing me?”  

I pull my hand away and squeeze it tightly between my legs. 

 “You’re just an observer, Mulder, warming the bench on the sideline with no actual idea of what’s going on in the game.  I’m living the game.  I may look fine from the outside, but inside it’s a completely different story.  I’m a fucking zombie when I take those pills.  I take half of one and it makes me so foggy that I can’t carry on a conversation.  I take a whole one and I can’t even stay awake long enough to eat dinner or shower myself.  I’d rather be in pain and able to focus, than a debilitated fucking lump on the couch that has to pretend to watch the latest special on Oprah.  Please, tell me how that is living.  I’d rather die in pain, than doped up and unable to feel.”

I feel him glance over at me as he pulls up to my apartment building and I have my seat belt off before he comes to a complete stop.

“You don’t get to have an opinion on this one, Mulder.  This is my decision.  My life,” I add as I thrust my door open.

“Scully,” I hear him call as I step outside.

“Go home, Mulder.”

I slam the car door with all of my might, and I hear it click gently behind me as I turn to walk away.

So much for making a statement.

He walks into my apartment ten minutes later, and wordlessly hangs his jacket on the back of the chair, dropping the car keys on the table.  I stare out my window, waiting to feel the dip of the couch as he sits next to me, but hear him walk to the back of my apartment instead.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I flick my eyes in his direction when I hear the water begin to run in my bathroom.

He’s drawing me a bath.  Bastard.

I keep my eye sight trained on the window, refusing to acknowledge him as I feel him approach me and pull the blanket from my legs, dropping it to the floor.  He pulls me up to stand in front of him, his hands rubbing up and down my arms as he presses a kiss to my forehead.  The simple gesture melts my anger in an instant, dissolving it to a puddle like the blanket at my feet, and I simultaneously love and hate him for it.

Steamy warmth immediately envelops me when we enter the bathroom, the only light coming from the small plug-in nightlight over the vanity.

“Just the nightlight?” I ask as I allow him to undress me.  He wraps one of the bath blankets around my shoulders to keep me warm while the tub fills with hot water, the steam curling up the tile walls.

“Didn’t want to waste time searching for the candles in the closet.  That will have to do.” He begins to undress himself, and my eyes lazily graze over him, appreciating the lean muscles of his body, the sleek planes of his back that lead to the curve of his ass. I’ve never been happier to be of clear mind than I am in this moment.  The long-lost sensation of desire floods throughout my lower abdomen as the muscles along his shoulder blades flex while working his jeans over his feet; a feeling I’ve wondered I was even capable of anymore.

Goose pimples spread across my arms at the sudden loss of warmth when the towel falls to the floor, and he guides us both into the tub.  The skin of his chest feels soft and slick against my back as he pulls me against him, my head resting against his collarbone as I’m settled between his legs.  I can’t contain the moan that escapes my lips as his fingertips trail lightly along the peaks of my breasts, sending beads of water cascading down the sides of my ribcage.

“Talk to me, Scully.”

“Mmm, don’t wanna fight,” I reply as I close my eyes and nuzzle into the surrounding warmth of him and sink further under the bathwater.

“Me either.  Just talk, I’ll listen.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

I feel the soft fluff of the loofa compress against my shoulder and water stream down my arm, but he says nothing.  His slow breaths tickle the skin of the side of my face, and I concentrate on the feel of the rise and fall of his chest beneath me, matching the pace of my own breathing with his.  In the quiet of the room, the only sound I can hear is the muted thud thud thud of his heartbeat, and it almost feels as if we’ve become one.

“I’m losing my hair, Mulder,” I whisper, resisting the urge to touch the dampened strands around my face. “I’m in desperate need of a fresh dye job, but my hair is thinning and I’m afraid to color it.  I don’t want to damage what I have left and risk losing more.”  I pause for a moment, worrying my lip between my teeth.  “I know that you’ve been cleaning out my brush, and cleaning up the hair that’s left on my pillowcase each morning, and I appreciate it.   I don’t want to see what I’ve lost.  Anyone else, I’m sure, wouldn’t be able to notice, but I can.  I see the difference every time I look in the mirror; feel the difference when I run my fingers through it.  I know how all of this must sound,” I say with a forced light chuckle.  “Terribly vain, but I’ve…my appearance was something I’ve always taken pride in.  And now…”

I sigh.  His fingers lightly trace my hairline across my forehead and behind my ear, and I lean into the kiss that he presses against my temple.

“As a medical doctor, I understand that these side effects are expected and that they could be much worse, but as a woman… Mulder, my skin is so dry at times that no amount of lotion will keep it from itching, and the dryness appears to have extended to… other regions of my body. Again, it’s to be expected, but it’s disheartening nonetheless.  I, um…I tried to test my theory myself the other night when you ran to your apartment, but...”

I squeeze my eyes shut, thankful that from his position behind me that he can’t see that my face is reddening from embarrassment.  “I couldn’t make love now, even if I had the energy for it, without some sort of lubrication assistance.”  

His arms snake around my middle just under my breasts, and squeeze me gently.  I can feel his unspoken words brimming at the surface, desperate for release, but he’s holding true to his word and keeping quiet.

“The pain in my joints can get so extreme that it’s crippling, and my sense of taste has lessened to such a degree that eating has become more of a chore, something I’m unable to even enjoy.  I’ve lost so much weight from the lack of appetite and vomiting of what I am able to force myself to swallow that I don’t even recognize my own body anymore.  In every aspect, I’ve become unrecognizable, a stranger,” I say, my voice breaking when speaking the last word.  “How am I supposed to die with dignity and self respect, when I don’t even know who I am anymore, Mulder?”

I can feel his exhale rush out of him with the strength of a hurricane, and I brace myself for the impending “you’re not going to die” argument.

“Can I talk now?” he asks, and I nod.

“You are Dana, loving daughter of Maggie and Ahab, and sister to Melissa, Bill Jr., and Charlie.  You are Dana Scully, M.D. who specializes in forensic pathology, rewrote Einstein, and has the steadiest hand in the field.  You are Special Agent Dana Scully, fiercely loyal partner to one Fox Mulder.  You’re Scully, who pushes me, inspires me, to be a better version of myself every minute of every day.  No matter what you lose in this process, you won’t lose that.  You won’t lose who you are.  You might not be able to see yourself anymore, Scully, but I do.  I still see you.”

A sob breaks free from my lips, betraying the air of resilience I’d been trying hopelessly to project as he spoke.  “I’m broken, Mulder.”

“No, Scully,” he whispers.  “You’re not broken.  You’re just doing  a little remodeling.”

I laugh, then.  Through the tears.  I laugh so hard that my cheeks hurt and the muscles along my ribcage twitch.

Xxxxx

I can hear him fussing around in my kitchen as I reread the same sentence of the scientific journal that’s positioned in my lap for the fourth time.  Exhaustion has made my eyes lose focus, but still I strain to make sense of the words printed before me, determined to finish it before falling asleep.

“You up?”

I smile and nod once, taking off my glasses and setting them on the nightstand.  He pads into my room, one of my soup bowls in hand.

“What’s that?  Not more soup, I hope,” I say, my nose scrunched in mild disgust, and my stomach begins to churn.  I can still smell remnants of the last round of chicken noodle that was flushed a few hours earlier.

“Not soup,” he says with a smirk as he sits next to me on the bed.  “I read that those going through treatment for cancer can sometimes require stronger tasting foods.  I thought this might do the trick.”

He gently pushes the bowl towards me and lifts the spoon.

I feel my eyebrow rise.  “Mint chocolate chip ice cream?”

“Try it.  The peppermint might also help to ease your nausea.”

“Mulder…”

“Please, Scully? Just a taste,” he says encouragingly.

The hope in his eyes shines brightly as I take the spoon, bringing the minty green ice cream to my lips, letting a small dollop slide into my mouth.  He watches me intently as I let it melt thickly against my tongue, the few harder bits of chocolate brushing against my taste buds, and for a moment I think I can taste faint traces of the mint.

The crushing weight of disappointment sinks into me as I realize that I can’t, but he’s still watching me, still so optimistic, so I force a smile.

“Can you taste it?” He asks, his own smile broadening.

I swirl the flavorless cream in my mouth, then swallow without chewing the chocolate chips.

  “Yes,” I lie.  “Pass me another spoonful.”

xxxxx

Continued in part 4, which will be posted...eventually.