#ive been put together and vitalized like how i put together your entire life since you feel

[premamelody]

i love the different ways you can take like clover and flowey's dynamic

like if you think about it, flowey essentially created the version of clover that remains in the present

the moment they hit the underground, they became some sort of lab project of flowey. like how alphys created the version of flowey (asriel). the difference is that it wasn't alphys' intention other than to test how different organisms handle determination. flowey does it intentionally to reach a goal.

trials to get clover to do what he wants. trials to likely figure out clover's strengths or weaknesses to create a perfect run for them. an endless amount of trials is required with a lab with a high power.

flowey hypothesizes that its possible, or else he wouldn't even bother. only in the end after reaching more dead ends with an altered group of runs does he decided to try his chances with the next human. though he desperately tries to make clover work knowing the inevitable, the next human, frisk, having more determination than him.

this is it. this is the only subject he can test on. the only subject he can manipulate. this is especially revealed in the neutral route where it all is at a dead end. the run disproved his hypothesis and he must try again. he must try again and again until his hypothesis is true. until the run ends in him reaching the souls or a sufficient ending.

until clover does exactly what he wants, what he, essentially, made clover for.

and the poor child doesn't have any clue until its too late. that's why yellow's neutral route ending is so intriguing to me. its the realization that clover is nothing but a vessel for flowey to grow. some sort of experimental being.

an experimental being like him, like flowey.

[strawberrysands]

Spencer Reid x Reader: he gets shot.

Spencer Reid x Reader

Prompt: Reader is Spencer’s secret girlfriend and works at the hospital when he gets shot.

Warnings: mentions of blood, getting shot (not reader), guns, fluff, a little angst, not proofread

Word count: 1.4k

I sigh as I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. God, it’s been a long day. You look at your watch and groan; another three hours were left on your shift?

I turn my head as I hear a chuckle next to me, seeing my coworker raise her eyebrows at me.

“Long day?” She asks me.

“You have no idea.” I sigh. “I have touched way more bodily fluids today than I ever intended to in my entire life.”

She chuckles and shakes her head at me. “At least you got someone waiting for you at home.”

I can’t help the blush that appears on my cheeks as she mentions Spencer. Sure, we’ve been together for a while now, but it never got old.

My phone buzzes and I open it, smiling to see a text from Spencer: “We’re heading out now, should be back tonight. Don’t wait up for me ;)”

I quickly reply with a “Stay safe xxx” before returning to the computer in front of me. Those last three hours would feel like days at this rate.

--

An hour or so later, a message over the PA grabs my attention.

“Any available staff, please head to the emergency bay. Male, GSW to the neck.” So I was getting some action tonight.

But oh, I wished I wouldn’t. My eyes grow wide as I recognize who was being reeled in on a stretcher.

“Spencer!” His name had left my mouth before I could stop myself. I rush over to him, putting pressure on his wound.

“His pressure’s dropping!” 

A tear rolls down my cheek as I hear those words, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head. A hand gently pushed me back, struggling against my attempts to get back to Spencer.

“Stop.” Another nurse says. “You’re too close to this. You’re no help in this state.”

I know he’s right, but my heart said otherwise. I stop struggling as Spencer gets reeled into surgery, my arms going limp at my sides as I watch helplessly.

I hadn’t even noticed the people he came in with, since I had never met his team. Their glances my way went unnoticed.

--

My knee bounces as I check the time over and over again.

“Hey.” I look to my right, seeing a woman with colorful clothing and glasses smile kindly at me. “He’ll be alright.”

I nod, not noticing in my own stress how she said ‘he’ or how she seemed to try to convince herself of those words just as much as me.

I shoot up out of the chair I was in when I recognize Spencer’s surgeon come out.

“Is he alright? Is he-“

He interrupts me before I could continue. “He’ll be okay. The surgery went alright. He’s in room 102.”

I can’t help myself as I quickly throw my arms around him. “Thank you.”

The team watches as I quickly make my way to his room.

“Who was that?” Emily asks, but she doesn’t get an answer. The whole team was just as confused as she was.

--

“Did they check your vitals again?” I’m frantic as I check them myself, not waiting for Spencer to answer. “Did they-“

Spencer grabs my hand, pulling me back into the chair beside his bed. “Look at me. I’m okay.”

I quickly shake my head as I sit back down and grab his hand in mine. “You were shot, Spence. You could’ve-“ I cut myself off as I notice the tears that start to well up in my eyes.

“Just- don’t ever do that again.” I kiss his hand, earning a smile from him that I return.

Our moment was cut short when a nurse enters, not even glancing at us as he goes to Spencer’s IV.

“He had antibiotics an hour ago.” I say, frowning at the syringe in his hand. He takes a look at the chart, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t say so here.”

I quickly realize just what type of antibiotics are in the syringe, just as Spencer does.

“Hey, I can’t have those.” He starts, reaching for the nurse. “I have a severe reaction to those, it’s all in the chart-“

When he completely ignores him, I get up. “Hey, stop!”

Just as I grab the nurse’s hand and push it away, I hear Spencer yell. “He has a gun!”

My eyes grow wide as I realize Spencer was right, seeing it just as the nurse pushes me to the floor. I scoot backwards as I stare right down the barrel of the gun. I hear Spencer yell something and commotion outside the room, footsteps coming closer. Just as the man’s hand curls around the trigger, I shoot forward in a moment of bravery.

The sound of the shot has my ears ringing, but the bullet hits the floor just as I grab his legs, tackling him to the floor and kicking the gun away. I’m breathing heavily, wether from the shock or adrenaline, I didn’t know. My hand connects to the man’s face just as the door opens, a rather panicked stern man coming in, other people right on his tail.

I see his lips move but don’t hear him say anything, the ringing too strong. I turn to Spencer to see if he’s alright, finding his eyes already on me. He, too, was saying something as he reached for me, his hand cupping my face.

“Hotch, get him out of here.” I hear Spencer say, my hearing slowly coming back. The stern man from earlier handcuffs and escorts the man out of there, the others behind him staying at the door.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, his eyes scanning my face for any sort of injury. I cover his hand on my cheek with my own, nodding at him.

“Yeah, I’m just, uh, I-“ I ramble. “I’m okay.”

“I hate to interrupt, but uh-“ I turn around to see the voice coming from one of the people still at the door, black hair adorning her face as she motions to the two of us.

“Oh, yeah, I really wished you would’ve met under different circumstances, but,” Spencer starts, before motioning from me to the others, “this is my team. Emily, Derek, Rossi, JJ, Garcia, Hotch – this is Y/N, my, uh, girlfriend.”

A few looks of shock pass over their faces as I wave at them, a shy smile on my face.

“I really wanted you to meet her, I did, but it’s-“ Spencer starts explaining, but the man called Rossi cuts him off.

“It’s alright, kid. We understand.” He smiles kindly.

“Damn, pretty boy. I’m proud of you.” Derek says, smiling widely at his friend and winking at me.

“Shut up.” Spencer groans, and I can’t help but chuckle. He was never going to hear the end of this.

“You really pack a punch.” Emily says to me, referring to the man whose nose was probably broken.

“Oh, it was probably just the adrenaline.” I say, getting slightly flustered at all the attention.

“Girl, you broke the guy’s nose. That’s impressive.” The blonde woman, JJ, smiles at me.

“Now, everyone get out. I’d like to have my girlfriend to myself, before all of you steal her from me.”

Spencer’s statement earns a round of chuckles from everyone, before finally leaving the two of you alone.

His thumb runs soothing circles across your bruised knuckles, smiling at you. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I know.” I say, grinning. “Your team seems nice. The guy in the suit, Hotch, could loosen up a little though.”

Spencer laughs at that, shaking his head. “I’ve been trying to tell him for years.”

I lean forward, gently brushing your lips against his.

“I love you.” I whisper, feeling Spencer smile against my lips.

--

“He better not let her go.” Rossi says, all of the team watching you through the window.

“How did he not tell anyone for so long? If I had a girlfriend that pretty, I would be boasting about it.” Garcia huffs, shaking her head.

Derek chuckles. “Yes, you would, baby girl.”

Hotch clears his throat. “Don’t you think we’re a bit creepy, just watching them through the window?”

Emily shrugs. “Probably. But they’re too cute, I’m not leaving.”

[txdoroki]

black and white roses

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: todoroki shoto x reader

fem reader | warnings: grief, medical topics | words: 1,424

a/n: i listened to sad music during writing this in case you were wondering wtf is wrong with me

also this is unedited lmao

you sighed and stared out your window, your face blank as uncomfortably warm tears dripped down your face. you didn’t acknowledge them, focusing on trying to distract yourself from the grief and guilt that was devouring you from the inside.

you watched the rain droplets fall onto the window, dripping down the glass smoothly. you wished you could be a rain droplet. they had such a simple, organized life. much better than yours.

you were exhausted. all you could muster the strength to get out of your bed for was to look out of your window and watch the rain rhythmically slip off of the roof down your window.

you felt trapped, as if no matter what you did you’d always end up back at that window. it was all you did anymore, and you were tired of it. there was only so much satisfaction you could get from staring out of the same window that looked out onto the same forest every. single. day. nothing new ever came up, you only adventuring out of your house to pick up groceries, only to go back upstairs and stare out of your window.

for a little while, the rain was comforting. your husband, todoroki, would point out shapes in the droplets, and you’d have races to see whose rain drop would run down to the end of your window the fastest.

oh what you wouldn’t give to have those days back.

when a particularly bad accident occurred the one time you had told him you didn’t want to go out with him, nothing would ever go back to normal.

now you were simply cursed with staring out of the window alone, every other day visiting your beloved that was trapped in the hospital. he hadn’t been conscious in so long.

oh what you would give to feel his light touches against your back whenever you’d be stressed, or his playful kisses when you two were alone, or his sleepy “i love you”s every morning

life lost its color, everything seemed to be 2x slower and in black and white.

without him, you had no purpose anymore. everything you did felt like a chore. shoto was your rock, your only comfort in life. and now he was in a goddamned coma?

the only thing that mattered to you anymore, was the small bumps of the heart monitor that showed his heart was still beating. that he was still alive, even if he couldn’t move .. or open his eyes .. or be conscious whatsoever..

he was still alive.

that was the only thing that kept you going. that someday, like months ago, you wouldn’t be sitting all alone at the window sill. that your beloved would have his arm around your shoulder, and that you could play the dumb games with him like you always had.

when you had first gotten the call that he was in the hospital hooked up to all of those machines, you had to decided to try remembering every day that passed, wanting to be able to tell him about everything he didn’t experience.

you quickly gave up on that, and rather than writing down everything that you were doing everyday, you decided you were going to sit at the same window sill everyday, staring at the rain that would pour from the sky nearly everyday.

nothing new to remember, it was perfect for you. you didn’t want him to be left behind.

you were fine with holding back your life, as long as it meant you would be on the same level as him.

you hated having to see his face whenever you visited him in the hospital. he looked nothing like how he used to, it was torture having to see him. it was torture seeing your husband barely clinging onto life. it was torture to see how fragile and breakable he looked.

his eyes that never seemed to flutter. his chest that slowly went up and down single-handedly because of the ventilator he was attached to. his arm that had an iv connected to it, pumping fluids and medicines into his frail body.

yet, you still visited every chance you could. you’d sing him songs, tell him stories. do whatever you could to communicate with him.

you talked his ear off, well, it isn’t like he was conscious anyways.

“please, sho, please just wake up, life without you is not something i want, you promised you’d always be here, why won’t you open your eyes,” you sobbed and dug your face into his chest, careful to not mess with any of the machinery on him, “you’ve been asleep long enough, wake up,”

you’d said those exact words hundreds of times in the past month. they weren’t lies.

life wasn’t interesting to you, if it meant that you couldn’t be with the love of your life.

“i’ve done everything. why won’t you just open your goddamned eyes,” you loosely gripped at his tee-shirt, your eyes burned from how much you were attempting to hold back your tears, your efforts shattering when you could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush against your head.

it was only the doctor.

“miss, we have some news,” he put his hand on your shoulder, although removing it when you flinched.

no one had touched your shoulder since shoto had an entire month ago.

the longest month of your life.

“okay, what is it.?” you attempted to smile at him, but it was more just a straight face.

“we did a test, and we think he might wake up sometime soon,”

your jaw dropped, “what? that’s.. are you sure? i thought you guys didn’t think he’d wake up anytime near now,”

“it isn’t one hundred percent, but if you’d like, you can stay the night with him in case he wakes up.”

you nodded, a small smile appearing on your lips. smiling felt foreign, you hadn’t for so long.

maybe now you’d finally get to feel the touch of the love of your life again.

you were sniffling, and staring out of the hospital room window when shoto’s nurse knocked on the door.

“mrs. todoroki? i’m here to check your husband’s vitals, if you don’t mind,” he smiled, walking over to shoto’s arm and wrapping a blood pressure cuff around him.

you nodded before turning back to the window, wiping your somewhat runny nose with a tissue.

the nurse hurried and exited the room once more, his shoes clicking on the smooth tile flooring.

you mindlessly gazed out of the window in front of you for hours longer, the nurses checking on you and shoto every now and then.

when you woke up that morning, you were confused to see your hand was wrapped between both of shoto’s.

“shoto?” you whispered, studying the peaceful expression that was on his face.

you nearly jumped out of the rather uncomfortable guest chair when you saw his bicolored eyes open slowly.

he looked at you with a blank stare, his lips slowly morphing into a smile.

“shoto, is that really you?” tears started to fall down your face as he moved his hands to cup your face. his thumbs ran back and forth on your cheeks, as if he was checking to be sure it was actually you.

he slowly nodded, wiping away the stray tears on your face and his waterline collecting his own tears. his lip quivered, and his glassy eyes seemed to be searching your own.

your heart felt like it was flying among the heavens, your voicebox seeming to be caught in your throat.

“never do that again, that was pure torture,” you croaked, standing up and putting your head onto his chest.

his hand lightly traveled up and down your back, and you got goosebumps from how nice it felt. you had missed his soft touches so much.

the doctor and nurses came in a few moments later, carrying their clipboards as they approached your husband who seemed to be doing much better.

they had him stay for a few more days in the hospital to check on his condition, but afterwards, he got the ok to come home.

the first two days he was home, you both didn’t leave bed. you clung onto him, afraid you’d wake up at the window sill from a dream.

when he suggested that you both watch the rain like months ago, you insisted not to. that you both should come up with a new activity to enjoy together.

you’ll never go back to the window sill.

taglist: @frxggie @todoroki-shoto-is-life

[biletdoux]

waiting: physical therapy | d.sc

Rating: G (in this part)

Genre + Tropes: non-idol!au, romance (angst, slice of life)

Warnings: mentions of a car accident

Length: 1.2k+

Summary: Sicheng is a creature of habit.

Note: it’s a little late, but i’m back!! i swear i’m working on my other works as well, i’ve just been a little caught up with school and work ;; this one is for @odentist​ and @adamfoolcry​ bc ilysm!! i know i’ve been absent, but you guys are in my thoughts always. thank you for putting up with me!!! it means a lot and i’ll work on being better at keeping in contact<3 also, i know not many people read my works, but i’m always super grateful toward the people who do <333

Masterlist // [Previous | Next]

part iv: physical therapy

Sicheng has physical therapy every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning from 09:00 to 11:00. He arrives at each session exactly 15 minutes early every time and although the receptionist who registers him varies depending on the day, Minho is always there to greet him with a bright smile. Sicheng would then set his stuff aside in a designated locker for the day and he’d start off the morning with some light stretches before the actual session started. This has been his routine for the past few months now.

Today is no different. 

“Sicheng,” Minho grins with a tap of his electronic watch. “Eight forty-five on the dot as usual.”

Sicheng shoots a small smile with an acknowledging nod of the head in reply as he rolls his wrists and starts loosening his ankles. His joints ache and creak in ways that bother him more than it should and his stiff muscles hiss in protest. Sicheng understands he should be grateful that he could at least walk and stretch on his own, but he can’t help but become bitter when he remembers his old lithe self. Minho is oblivious to Sicheng’s inner machinations as he mirrors him and does his own set of stretches. 

Sicheng is a dancer. Was. Is. Sicheng will be a dancer again. One day. Yes, one day. Definitely. Hopefully.

While at heart, Sicheng will always be a dancer, his body is broken and won’t move in ways that it once did. Minho helps build him back up two hours at a time, three days a week, but Sicheng knows his body will never go back to the way it used to be prior to the accident. 

Sicheng remembers waking up with a hazy mind and heavy limbs. The bleak whiteness of his room and bed sheets blinded him as he struggled to register his surroundings. The plastic nasal cannula delivered heated high flow oxygen through his body and the wires attached to his body alerted the nearby nurses of his rousing. They came in and took a set of vitals before talking to him sweetly, as to not alarm him too much, but his head ached and Sicheng still can’t recall much of what happened the first few days he came to. 

The doctors said a lot of things, but Sicheng extracted that he was lucky. 

Among other things, the impact left him with two broken ribs and a punctured lung. They told him he was transported to a nearby hospital just in time before his left lung completely collapsed, but his spleen had ruptured, requiring emergency surgery to prevent further internal bleeding. There was moderate trauma to his head, resulting in cerebral contusions and swelling, but they determined his central nervous system came out unscathed. Sicheng’s mind and recollection was still foggy and tattered, but they assured him that it would return. Perhaps in pieces, but one by one it should come back.

Sicheng was bedridden for over a month and required an additional month of intensive in-patient hospital rehabilitation from his injuries and deconditioning before he was even cleared for discharge and out-patient rehabilitation. The doctors were surprised by his progress and had a positive outlook on his prospect, but Sicheng knows. 

Things will never be the same.

Sicheng enrolled in the best out-patient rehabilitation his insurance provided for him and that was how he met Minho, a ray of sunshine and the epitome of positivity. Minho’s relentless encouragement lapped at Sicheng’s bitterness and eventually wore him down. Now Sicheng finds himself looking forward to their sessions together, despite having to face he’s no longer who he was.

“Are you ready?” Minho asks. “We’re going to work on strengthening today.” 

During his first session with Minho, Sicheng still wobbled on his feet. The hospital sent him home with a walker and pair of crutches, but Sicheng found it insulting when pirouettes and grand jetés used to come as second nature. Minho introduced himself with a fervor that had Sicheng wincing. He didn’t want to be here, especially when it meant entrusting his recovery with some happy-go-lucky sap. 

Sicheng gave Minho the cold shoulder the entire session and completely ignored any suggestions or advice. This went on for a few more times until Sicheng almost collapsed one day from pushing himself too hard despite Minho’s warnings. His legs were cramping and his lungs felt like they were going to burst. Sicheng nearly toppled over had it not been for Minho there ready to steady him at a moment's notice. Minho said nothing as Sicheng heaved in long and heavy breaths as his skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat. 

Minho was quiet and didn’t say much. Sicheng appreciated him for not rubbing too much salt in his wounds.

During the last twenty minutes of that session where Minho was helping Sicheng with stretches, he broke their strained silence.

“Sicheng, you have to be kind to yourself and allow yourself time and patience. I know it’s tough, but things will come back. The mind may forget, but the body always remembers.”

Sicheng didn’t say anything back, but he couldn’t find it in himself to scoff back like he would at any other tacky saying and ever since then, he grew to have a quiet respect and even tentative friendship with his physical therapist. 

Sicheng looks forward to Friday sessions the most. Usually they do strengthening most of the time and today is no different. It’s harder on his body than other sessions, but he enjoys the steady ache of his muscles afterward. He views it as a sign of progress and Sicheng takes in greedy gulps. 

Sicheng finishes today’s sessions on autopilot, barely noticing the minutes that flew by until it was time to stretch. Minho helps push and hold positions when Sicheng can’t and he’s grateful.

“Hey what’s up with you today?”

“Hm?” Sicheng is flat on his back and Minho is supporting his right knee to Sicheng’s chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Dunno,” Minho hums thoughtfully as he switches to stretch Sicheng’s left leg. “You just seem tired.”

“Oh. I’ve been having trouble sleeping I guess.”

“Will talking about it help?”

Sicheng ponders his offer for a minute before a soft grunt escapes his lips. His left leg is always stiffer than his right and Minho is pushing it today. “No, I don’t think so, but I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. Try to get good rest though, it’s crucial for recovery.”

Minho understands Sicheng enough to know exactly when and where to push, physically and personally. A comfortable quiet settles between them until the session is over. 

Sicheng cools down in the locker room before heading out and waving goodbye to Minho and the receptionist of the day. 

By 11:20, the sun is out and the streets are busy. Sicheng has to block out rays of light from his eyes as he looks up to see the buildings to decide what the next move for the day will be. Maybe some lunch? 

He ponders quietly to himself before noticing a tap on his shoulder and turns to see a girl.

“Sicheng, is that you?”

Note: oooof, this one isn’t as whimsical and fluffy as the other cause it has lots of exposition, but finally mores stuff is revealed about sicheng!! 

[purselover2]

Pairings Bucky x Reader

Triggers: heart condition, heart episode, being tied up, hospitalization,

Summary: Sort of a prequel to Drabble I posted on Saturday. After talking to @harlekin6 about how Bucky would find out and react to discovering you had a heart condition I wrote this.

No beta so any mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know and I’ll fix them.

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

Title: Heart Revelation

You don’t like to tell people about your heart. As soon as you do they start treating you different. Like you’re made of glass and your heart the weakest of the glass could shatter and take you with it. So you take your medication in private, fill your prescriptions over in Queens so there’s less chance of running into anyone. Go to your heart doctors, you have two, alone and deal with whatever they tell you alone. You get away with this easily. There are only a few things that trigger an episode and you avoid those. Being startled, being scared or shocked. Being held with your hands above your head for several minutes.

He had wanted to kick things up some in the bedroom and you were more than happy to say yes. He was an amazing boyfriend and lover and treated you like you were his most precious gift. So when he suggested tying your arms to the bed frame you hadn’t thought it through before hastily saying yes because the thought was hot and you wanted it just as much as he did.

Your heart was beating crazy fast, usually getting up to around 170 when the episodes started. Usually you could just lay down until it slowed down after all no one could feel it but you and no one could certainly hear it. Unless of course that person was a super soldier with superior hearing.

Bucky was just about to move lower when he felt something change with y/n. Her heart, he could feel it vibrating her entire body and he could hear it beating way too fast even for someone in a state of arousal.

“Y/n? Sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He moved off you and up to look at your face. Which was blood red.

“Arms. Down. Now.” You breathed out as quick as you could since these episodes always made it hard to talk.

Bucky didn’t wait for more words nor did he wait to find a knife to cut the ties. In one motion the split the headboard in two and freed your hands. It would have been sexy as fuck if you weren’t feeling like your heart was going to explode.

As soon as your arms are down Bucky starts rubbing them to get the circulation back in them. “Y/n? Tell me what to do? Can you talk Doll?” When he saw you were struggling to breath he finishes getting the ties off your hands and finds your shirt and puts it over your head. Picking you up heads towards his door. “FRIDAY alert the med bay I’m bringing y/n in. There’s something with her heart.”

“Done Sargent Barnes. I alway took the liberty of running her vitals and sent the information down to their thermal.”

“Thanks.” Bucky replied as he raced down the hall the elevator. FRIDAY had it waiting for him and you arrived there quickly.

“Put her on the bed.” Dr. Cho ordered. She had been in her lab working the weekend and knew there wasn’t another doctor on site currently. So hearing there was an emergency she had rushed over.

Once Bucky had you on the bed, Helen started giving orders. “Get the heart monitor on her. Start an IV. We’re going to have to get the drugs started to get it lowered.” She placed the oxygen mask over your face. “Afib and aflutter?” She asked to which you nodded yes. “Alright. Then you know what we’re going to do. Just relax and we’ll get it down.”

Bucky stood back taking it all in. From the question Cho had asked you he figured out that this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Apparently you knew you had a heart condition and had never told him. Helen looked over and saw the look on Bucky’s face and moved over to him.

“I’m assuming you didn’t know.”

Bucky shook his head.

“Okay. Listen to me. I get that you’re upset but she doesn’t need that right now. She needs to be calm and focused on her heart rate going down. Knowing you’re upset is going to negatively impact that. Can you put that to the side for now and help her?”

“Yes. What do I need to do?”

“Talk to her. Not things she needs to respond to but just talk to her. Hold her hand. Touch her. I have the IV started with a drug that should work to bring it down. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She walked over to the monitoring station on the other side of the lab.

Bucky walked over and sat down beside your bed. Taking your hand in his metal one and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Doc says she’s got the medicine started that’s going to fix this. Said I should keep you company and hold your hand. Didn’t have to tell me twice on that one. I love holding your hand.” He smiled at you. “I’m we need to take those days off we talked about and go to the cabin we found on that recon mission. You know the one with that huge hot tub outside? We could unplug and just be together.” Bucky spent the next hour talking about the trip. You were sure he was upset but trying his best to not show it. You were even more grateful for his presence in your life.

Soon Helen came back over and check the monitors attached to you.

“It went back down about 20 minutes ago and seems to be staying there. I’m going to stop the drip and reduce your oxygen down. I’ll take the mask off and replace it with the nasal tube so you can talk. Just remember to stay calm and no getting upset.” She said looking at Bucky at the last part.

“Thanks Helen. I’ll be okay.” You smile at her and she walks off.

Knowing the conversation is inevitable you turn to Bucky. “Bucky I....I’m sorry. I know I should have told you.”

“Yes. You should have.” He agreed. “So why didn’t you?”

“I don’t tell anyone.”

“But I’m not anyone y/n. I’m the man who loves you. The man who is supposed to protect you and keep you safe. But instead I put you in danger because I didn’t know.” He closed his eyes. “Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“I’m sorry. I keep saying that but I am. I don’t want you to know because when people find out they treat me different. Like I’m fragile. Sick. I didn’t want you to start and we both know that the second you found out you would have started over thinking everything just like you’re doing right now. Like you have since you found out. Tell me I’m wrong?” You held his hand tighter which made him look at you and you had your answer. “Told you.”

“Of course I’m thinking. Doll you have to take care of yourself. All the training and the missions. The sex. Oh my God. You let me tie you up. Did you know that it could happen?” Bucky asked you.

“Having my hands above my head sometimes causes issues.” You try to downplay it. “But I hadn’t had an issue in a long time and I thought that it would be okay.”

“Do you know how I would have felt how I would have reacted if something worse had happened?” Bucky leaned closer.

“I’m sorry Bucky. But I can’t be coddled. I won’t. I can still do training. Still do missions. I know my limitations.” You tried to get him to see your side.

“Do you see a doctor regularly?” He asked.

“I see two doctors. I have a cardiologist and a heart surgeon. I see them regularly and the both know what I do for living. They both cleared me. For everything Bucky. Even sex. They know I know what to avoid what could trigger an episode. I should have told you when you asked about it. I wanted it too.” You held his hand tighter.

“We need to talk about this more but you need rest. I was serious earlier when I said we needed to take some days and go to that cabin. How about tomorrow I call and make arrangements and we go this weekend if Helen says it’s okay?” Bucky stood up. He needed to leave. Needed to think and he knew y/n needed to rest.

“I would love that.” You smiled.

“Okay. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bucky leans down and kisses your forehead and turns to walk out.

Just as he reaches the door you speak. “Bucky? We’re gonna be okay right?” Your voice breaking a little.

Bucky hears it and hurries to your side. “Doll. Of course. Of course. We’re gonna be fine. We are fine. I love you. I’ll be back in the morning.” He kisses you again this time on the lips. “Now get some rest. You’ll need it for this weekend”. He winks and you catch his meaning.

“Yes Sargent.” You mock salute him and laugh. You lay back and close your eyes knowing that everything really would be okay.

[massivelycreepypineapple]

Kick Butt While Falling In Love

Pairing: Surgeon!Jensen Ackles x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N is Dr. Ackles’ patient. They meet during her chemo sessions and become close friends and eventually more.

Requested by a lovely anon (I hope you enjoy this and found the plot alright!): Can you write more doctor Jensen Ackles? I can't think of any plot but Jensen as doctor is very attractive!❤️🙈

Warning: Sick reader, slightly angsty. pretty much it I guess. 

A/N: I tried not to make any mistakes. I hope this is alright. If I made any please do let me know. I apologise for that in advance!

Word Count: 1925

Masterlist

❅ ❅ ❅

If anybody told Y/N a year ago that the hospital would practically be her second home, she’d have sent them packing with a swift kick up their butt. She hated hospitals with a steady passion and she hated doctors even more. The very thought of going to a doctor for something as small as the flu was repulsive to her. So you can imagine her horror when she was forced to go weekly for her chemotherapy sessions. But things didn’t end there. It would seem that life had a way of messing with Y/N. Not only was she forced to go to the dreaded location once a week, but she was slowly looking forward to it. And the cherry on top came in the form of a certain green eyed surgeon.

When Y/N first found out that she had a cancerous tumour growing in her, she was, like anyone else, in great shock and pain. She didn’t have anyone in her life. She became an orphan at the age of 16 and foster care didn’t last long. She began to fend for herself as soon as she hit 18. She wasn’t in one place long enough to make friends either. So the thought of cancer did freak her out. She spent years learning to love her life and she didn’t want to lose that. But as the weeks went by she got used to the idea that this was her reality. And things got better when she met the man in charge of her life. 

Dr. Jensen Ackles was a gem in the world of stones and that’s putting it lightly. Anyone who interacted with him loved him and those who didn’t, well, let’s just say that they sucked as human beings. He was the most beautiful and considerate man she had ever known. And as time went on, he became her best friend. She didn’t really know how that happened considering that she didn’t have any decent ones. She had colleagues who were cordial to her and that was it. She couldn’t for the life of her fathom what possessed him to become her friend. He was her doctor and the relationship should’ve ended at that. But yet here they were best friends and at the brink of something more.

Y/N remembered the first time Jensen was there for her in ways no one else had. She had just started chemotherapy and it was royally kicking her ass. She already had a minor heart condition so there were risks of heart attacks and the like due to chemo. The drugs given to her took a toll on her big time and she often found herself with her head in the toilet, leading her to lose so much weight as well as her appetite. One particular day Y/N was suffering worse than usual and her chest was aching. She remembered that Jensen had given his personal phone number in case she needed a friend. She was light headed and in pain and she decided to just take a leap of faith and call him. 

-Flashback-

“Hi Y/N, is everything okay?” His deep voice came through the phone, immediately calming her a bit. 

“J-Jensen I-“ She started breathing heavily. 

“Y/N!! Where are you?” He asked frantically.

“H-home.” She managed to get out. She sounded breathless and weak. 

“I’ll be there in 15.” He said and cut the call. 

True to words, 15mins later Jensen showed up. She struggled to get to the door but managed to open it, but only to fall into his arms. He quickly picked her up and took her to the ambulance waiting outside. Y/N chuckled lightly at that. “S-so dramatic.” She said.

“You scared me, sweetheart. You didn’t sound good and I was clearly right to be scared.” He said trying to stay calm as he put her on the gurney and letting the paramedics fix her to the IV tubes. He rode with her back to the hospital and got her into the emergency room. 

-Flashback End-

After everything had calmed down and her condition was brought under control, Jensen stayed beside her the entire time. He did everything to keep her fever down, brought her decent food that was easy on her stomach. He replaced the IV when the drugs were getting low. He even spent the night with her. Since then there was always something developing between them. They became close and Jensen from then on was her best friend and the love of her life (only he didn’t know it yet). He even took on an active role in making sure her chemotherapy went smoothly. He rearranged his schedule around hers. He spent time with her figuring out which medicine worked best, and stayed up with her the nights she spent in the hospital.

That’s where Y/N found herself once more. She had just finished her session for the day. Jensen was in surgery so he couldn’t keep her company like he usually did. So she got through it by listening to music and flipping through a magazine. Just as she was about to leave she got light headed and collapsed. 

The nurses rushed to her and put her on a gurney trying to help her. She could barely make out what they were saying. She was in and out of consciousness. 

“She’s going into a cardiac arrest. She needs surgery now!” Said one of the doctors.

“We need to page Dr. Ackles!”

“He’s in surgery!”

“Fuck! Let’s take her into the OR and get her prepped. If he isn’t there yet, we need someone else immediately.” 

That was the last thing she heard before everything turned black. 

__________

Y/N woke up to an insistent beeping noise. She felt something heavy on her hand and she couldn’t move. She slowly blinked her eyes and saw someone resting their head on her bed. Jensen was still in his scrubs and his hair sticking out. He looked exhausted. She gently nudged his hand that was holding hers and he jerked awake. 

“Y/N!” He whispered. He quickly got up to check her vitals and began fussing over her. He brought her a cup of water and she gently took a few sips. She then finally looked at him properly and saw that his eyes were red. It looked like he had been crying. 

“Jay..” She whispered softly, her throat still sore. “What happened?”

“You had a heart attack, sweetheart.” 

“Oh… was it because of all the chemo?”

He nodded at that. “There was a blockage near the heart stopping the blood flow. We managed to get it out. You’re fine now, baby.” He caressed her cheek. 

“The last thing I heard was that you were in surgery.”

“Yeah I was, but I was almost done. He was fine and I only needed to close him up. The interns could manage that so I rushed to you. I don’t trust anyone else with your life, baby girl.” He said closing his eyes tight.

“I’m fine Jay. You came in time and I’m fine.” Y/N comforted him.

“Y-yeah” He whispered.

“Jay, what about the tumor?”

“The drugs are working. Chemo’s doing its job and the tumor has shrunk. But we couldn’t remove it just yet. You need another course of chemo before we go in and finish the job.”

Y/N started crying “I don’t want to, It’s too much! Please don’t make me!”

Jensen’s heart broke at that and his face fell. “Y/N...please do this. I know it’s painful and exhausting, honey. But I need you to do this. I need you to get better.”

“Why?! Why does it matter so much to you?” She cried.

“Because I fucking love you!” He said 

Y/N was shocked at that admission. She knew there was something there but she never in a billion years thought that he loved her like she loved him. 

“I love you so much, and I need you to get better so that we can make this work and maybe live happily ever after like those books you love!” He added.

She just stared dumbly at him. She didn’t know what to say. She was afraid that she'd break his heart. She was at risk and didn’t know if she'd make it.

Her silence broke his heart further. She could see he was regretting his words. So she quickly added, “I’m only going to hurt you, Jay. We don’t know if I’ll make it.” 

“You will make it, Y/N.”

“You can’t know that! You deserve someone normal. You deserve someone who is not on death’s bed. Someone who won’t remind you of work all the time. Caz that’s what I am, Jensen! I’m your patient and-” She was interrupted with his lips. 

“I know you feel the same, sweetheart. You’re not just my patient. You’re the love of my life. I don’t stay up for any of my patients but you. I don’t do house calls and I sure as hell don’t give them my personal number.” He said with determination in his eyes. 

Y/N looked at him wide eyed. She dared hoped that things would work out. She wanted it so badly. She reached out, despite the pain she was in and pulled him down for a fierce kiss. 

“I love you too, so damn much” She said looking into his eyes. 

He grinned at her and kissed her one last time before tucking her into the blankets. “Rest some, baby. We’ll figure this out ok?” 

“Stay.. don’t go.” 

“I have to check on the other guy, Y/N.” He said looking sadly at her. To which she nodded in understanding. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise. I’m taking some time off to be with you.” 

“You don’t have to..”

“Shh. I want to” he said which made her smile so cutely at him. 

But she became serious again, scrunching her eyebrows. “Jay...are you sure it’s going to be okay? I don’t want to die.” Y/N said with a small voice. Jensen felt his heart clench at that. He held her face in his large palms.

“Baby, you’re not going to die ok? Not if I have anything to say about it. You’re going to kick this tumour’s butt and then we’ll run off into the sunset together like a cheesy couple.”

She laughed a little at that. “Okay, I like that plan.” 

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s very early but move in with me. Please?”

“Yes.” 

Jensen kissed her hard and then said, “WHEN you survive this, I’m going to marry you. Don’t want to waste any time.”

“I’d like nothing more, baby” grinned Y/N with tears in her eyes. 

Jensen kissed her on the forehead and turned to leave to check on the other patient. 

Y/N fell asleep with a huge smile on her face. For the first time in forever she felt like everything was going to be okay. For the first time in her life she felt like she had a family even if it was just Jensen for now. Maybe they’ll make their own family. A big one too. Did she wish she had met him in better circumstances? No. This entire journey made her who she is. She’d go through it all again because the person she is today is the person who Dr. Jensen Ackles fell in love with. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

❅ ❅ ❅

TAGS BELOW

@hobby27 @akshi8278

[doing-all-write]

don’t be a baby part 2

Pairing: Billy x Fem!Reader

Summary: After losing Billy, Reader doesn’t know what to do with herself. After receiving some news about a millionaire who’s been murdering people, she convinces Billy’s old Sky Walker crew to train her so she can take him down. But the mission doesn’t go as planned and suddenly, there’s a man offering her a position on an elite team...

Read part 1 HERE

Word Count: 14K

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fight sequences, needles, mentions of smut and talk of depression. 

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY AND HERE IT IS!!! Part two of don’t be a baby!! Thank you all so so much for your patience, I wanted to be sure this story was perfect and I hope all love it! Once again, a HUGE thank you to @itsabenthing​ who is always a wonderful source of inspiration and helps to keep me on track and to @mrhoemazzello​ for hyping me up at all times and for letting me bounce ideas off her!! And don’t worry...there will be a third part 😉

💖💖As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💖💖

365 days.

That's not a long time.

A year on Neptune is the equivalent of 164 years on Earth. Bowhead whales can live up to 200 years. The Methuselah tree is 4,700 years old.

365 days is nothing.

What's one lousy year in the grand scheme of things?

Compared to one day.

24 hours to have your whole world ripped out from underneath you. To believe that up is down and down is up. To feel your feet leave the earth as you pitch forward into a tunnel where time passes both far too quickly and not quickly enough.

One 30 second phone call can feel like the longest thing in the world.

To some, 365 days may not feel all that long, but to others?

365 days is far too long.

~One Month After the Funeral~

“(Y/N)? It’s me. You doing okay?” Mark winced when he realized how dumb that question was. 

Setting the bags of food down on the kitchen table, he opened the fridge. His heart clenched when he saw the food he had put there a week ago sitting untouched. 

It had been the worst right after the funeral. When he came over on the days following the funeral she would be in the same clothes he had last seen her in, staring at the wall or ceiling. On good days her cheeks would be dry, on bad days? The tears would soak her pillow case. 

He had nicked Mary, Billy’s sister’s, number from (Y/N)’s phone. Figuring that Mary may have some professional resources she could recommend to get (Y/N) the help she desperately needed to pick herself back up. 

After a few weeks of her catatonic state, she started moving more. But it was almost worse. She was like a zombie. 

He’d tell her maybe she should shower or eat and in slow robotic movements she’d do what he asked, then crawl back into bed. Eyes empty. Flat. 

The passivity broke his heart. 

There hadn’t been a time when Mark and (Y/N) had been growing up when she wasn’t passionate about something. When that familiar light in her eyes had burned bright. 

Without it, it felt like looking at a mannequin of his sister. 

Sighing, he loaded the new food into her fridge. Taking the old stuff out he figured, if it wasn’t moldy, he could feed it to Jean, who was like a human garbage disposal. He claimed grief made him starving. 

As Mark stood up, he faced the bedroom door and felt his shoulders slump forward. He knew what was waiting for him on the other side and he didn’t want to see it. He knew he was a coward but part of him just wanted to walk out the front door and pretend that his sister was on the other side, totally fine, she was just sleeping and he’d come back next week and she’d greet him with a smile and a hug. 

Something he hadn’t seen in, well, in a month. 

Feeling his shoulders creep up towards his ears as he stood outside her bedroom door, he made a conscious effort to relax them. 

“Hey, (Y/N), you awake?” 

Nudging the door open, he peered into her room, taking stock of it. It looked exactly the same as last time he had checked on her. The soft rise and fall of her side underneath her blanket the only movement. Taking a moment to capture how serene she looked, he quietly closed the door behind him, taking a minute to send up a plea that he would do anything, anything, for his sister if it just meant that one day he’d see her up and out of her bed. 

~

A buzzing by her ear woke her up. Groaning, she slapped her hand around the bed, trying in vain to stay semi-unconscious. The buzzing came faster, one right after the other, reminding her of how her phone had acted the day Billy’d died. Heart dropping through the floorboards, her eyes flew open.

Sitting up and shoving the blankets back in one quick motion only caused her to hear a loud thud. Cursing, she crawled over to the edge, allowing her top half to go limp as her bottom half stayed put on her bed. 

Pushing her hair back with one hand she turned her phone over to see what was happening. News alert after news alert was scrolling in. They all said the same thing, 

Local Billionaire Accused of Dumping Toxic Waste in Ocean. 

Her eyebrows knitted together as she read the remainder of the story. There was something tugging at her subconscious as she read. This billionaire, Chase Casewell, had a reputation for being a real prick and after using his family's money to get through business school and have his first idea fail (an app that told Influencers when the best time to post would be) he had made his millions by starting a brand that specialized in shoes, ugly beige monstrosities if she remembered correctly. 

It had just come out that he had instructed the plants that made his shoes to dump the waste into the ocean. The chemicals they’d used had poisoned the water supply, causing the fish to become infected with the chemicals. Then, the local fisherman would catch the fish, take them home to their families, eat them, then the fishermen and their families would end up in the hospital. 

Her hospital.

She sat bolt upright as she remembered the string of mysterious illnesses that had ended up in her ward a few weeks before she had met Billy that first time. If the victims were lucky, they ended up puking their guts out for a few days and, after being hooked up to an IV to re-hydrate, she’d send them on their way.

Others would linger for a few days then quietly slip away. The chemicals flowing through their bloodstream till their veins ran thick with poison, where it finally creeped up to their heart where the poisons would wrap themselves around their most vital organ. Suffocating it until it gave out entirely. 

The one that had affected her the most was Isabella, a small girl with dark braids and a love of Frozen. The only thing that’d make her smile was when (Y/N) would come in with a stuffed Olaf and have him ask her for a warm hug. She had been holding this little girl's hand, watching Frozen when her heart just...gave out. 

She had gone to the funeral but shame and guilt burned bright inside till she felt like there was a beacon surrounding her, letting everyone at the funeral know it was her fault that Isabella had passed away. 

As the pieces clicked together in her mind she felt an inferno roar to life inside her. It burned away the sadness and despair she’d been wallowing in ever since Billy left only to leave behind rage and guilt. The emotions boiled in her stomach, bile climbing up her throat as she stumbled to the bathroom

Collapsing over the toilet, heaving and retching, she knew nothing was coming up but her body worked overtime to expunge the horror she felt in any way it could. Her body spasming as waves of emotions crashed through her system. 

Several minutes passed till she finally felt the nausea start to ebb. Slumping against the wall, she hung her head over the toilet as she took steadying breaths, making sure that her body wasn’t going to rebel again. 

When she lifted her head, she had made a decision. 

~

"Alrigh', alrigh' I'm coming. Quite your bloody knocking you crazy-"

Jean's rant was cut short when he saw (Y/N) on the other side of the door decked out in black athletic gear, hair pulled back in a tight braid. Jean's eyes widened as he made contact with her own eyes. A fire could get started with the steely glint that was reflected back at him. 

"I need you to train me." 

"T-train you?" Jean's hands were instantly coated in sweat as he contemplated what she was talking about. 

"Yes. Like how you trained Billy and Mark. Train me to be a Sky Walker. I can do this." 

Jean rubbed a hand down his face, "(Y/N)...it's late. Maybe we should sleep on this-"

"NO." That one word leapt from her throat in a growl, causing Jean to step back, half shutting the door. Slamming her hand against the door she switched tactics, "Please Jean. There's this prick who's dumping toxic waste into the ocean. So many people were sick and at my hospital because of him." Swallowing thickly, her eyes grew unfocused, "They died...under my watch." 

Jean's shoulders slumped at that admission. With Billy’s death overshadowing everything, he forgot that in her line of work she saw more sickness and death than even he had seen.

But this was the first time since the funeral that he had seen her up and moving. It was the first time that her eyes held any sort of emotion. He couldn’t bear to be the one that extinguished it. He couldn’t do that to her. Or to Mark. 

Heaving a sigh he flung his hands up, "Fine. We start in the morning,” Her eyes widened and a small smile crept across her face as she stepped forward into his apartment until he held a hand out to stop her, “Now let me go back to sleep so I don't pass out on you mid training session and we both die." 

~Three Months After the Funeral~

Are you ready for it? 

The bass thumped through her headphones, as her fists made contact with the punching bag in front of her in time to the beat. Staying light on her toes, she bounded back and forth, jabbing, punching, upper cutting, swaying in and out as she danced around the bag. 

She had been here for hours. The 24-hour gym had cleared out earlier, now it was just her and other people who couldn't sleep or worked weird hours.

As the last line of the song faded she put her hands on her hips, pacing over to her backpack. 

Rooting through it, she located her water bottle, taking long pulls from it as her heart beat slowed down. 

Boxing had been one of the only things that was able to take her mind off of, well, everything. 

That and running. Everyone and their mother had told her to try yoga after they’d heard what happened, telling her it would help to "quiet her mind" but the more time she spent sitting still, the more she could feel Billy's hand slipping from hers as he walked out of her apartment for the last time. 

She gave it up when a panic attack had taken over her system in downward dog. 

Activities that let her be alone, that let her get her aggression out, were the most beneficial. 

Plus, it helped with the Sky Walker training she’d been receiving from Mark and Jean.

After she’d shown up at Jean’s door that night, she arrived on his doorstep bright and early the next morning, knowing that she’d have to knock extra loud to make sure Jean actually woke up. Which is why it shocked her that before she could even knock on the door, Jean had swung it open to reveal him and Mark standing in front of her, looking for all the world like two parents ready to scold their child for staying out past curfew. 

Smirking she shrugged, “Sorry I missed curfew.”

Mark’s mouth twitched and she knew that, with him at least, she was off the hook. 

They had sat her down, gone over basic safety information, how they practiced moves on the ground first so they could get comfortable executing them and then took them up into the air. 

Mark’s heart broke at how alert and interested she was. It was the first time in months he saw her engage with others and it killed him that this was what it was taking to bring her back from the brink. 

Ever since then, she had been training with them to prepare for this mission, to learn the necessary skills she’d need to break in, to keep herself alive. She had convinced Mark and Jean that the plan she had for Chase was a one-woman job. She told them that if she couldn’t pick up on everything in six months then she would let one of them help her on this mission. 

But she knew she wouldn’t need their help. When Mark and Jean taught her how to fight, how to dodge opponents, how to protect herself in a fight, her Nurse Brain kicked into high gear.  

When they’d break down certain tricks she was able to picture the exact muscles, ligaments and bones that would need to be strengthened, how they would need to move to be able to complete the move perfectly. 

She was even able to break down fight sequences just from observing her opponents moves. Looking at how certain muscles tensed, what foot they’d lead with, how their fist was turned, it all helped her get the upper hand in any fight. 

Knowing pressure points and which joints were the weakest were an added benefit during these training sessions. 

(After she almost dislocated Jean’s knee, he had limped away, bellowing about how she needed to seriously remember who the enemy was and it “bloody well isn’t me! I like the ocean! I’ve never even been to Sea World, that’s how much I like the ocean!” 

 All of it added up to her progressing in her training more rapidly than Mark or Jean felt comfortable with.

They couldn’t help being impressed though. She was mastering moves that had taken them years to nail down. But she took to it with a single-minded determinism that worried them, especially Jean. 

Training was all (Y/N) cared or wanted to talk about. Mark told him that she’d started working out at all hours. Lifting, running and boxing being the newest activity she had added to her repertoire and while he felt it was a smart move, he couldn’t help but be worried. Every time she was training, he’d seen a fatalistic look in her eyes. It was a look he was all too familiar with, it was a common look in Sky Walkers. But those individuals were always the highest risk cases.

Those were the Sky Walkers who didn't value their own safety. They kept pushing and pushing until mortality pushed back and said, You want to keep going? Fine. You pushed too far and now I'm going to punish you. 

The worst part was, in his experience, there was no use trying to tell those individuals to slow down. They inevitably sped up to spite the person who told them to slow down. Jean didn't want Mark to lose his sister too. 

After a particularly intense training session, he hesitantly brought it up to Mark who only snorted, 

"I already lost her."

"What do you mean?"

Mark shot him an incredulous stare, "You're kidding right? You've seen how much she's changed since Billy left. That's not my sister. I still hope like hell (Y/N)'s underneath this new exterior but...I don't know who this new woman is. And frankly, I don’t want to know who she is.”

She hadn’t told Mark but she’d heard him say that. She knew she wasn’t the same woman but this was the one thing in her life that had made her feel alive since the funeral. She didn’t want to give it up. 

They’re just going to have to get used to it. She thought as she unwrapped the bright pink wraps from her hands. Rooting through her backpack, she made sure she had everything. Slinging her bag over her shoulders, she queued up her running playlist. 

Striding toward the front door she gave the obligatory head nod to all the members still in the facility. 

Shoving the door open, the wind that had buffeted the building all night slapped her in the face. Eyes tearing up, she adjusted the straps of her backpack, hit play and started to jog back to her apartment. 

Demons!

Come on!

You've got a vision,

You're on a mission!

~~~

He almost missed her. 

The all black clothing she had taken to wearing, combined with how the last vestiges of red in the sky were quickly being overrun by the inky black of the night sky made him worried she’d left without him realizing. 

Seeing the door open, light spilling out and illuminating her form, he breathed a sigh of relief. Watching her jog off into the night, he leapt up from his crouched position on the building next door to the gym. 

Giving (Y/N) a head start, he waited a few beats before taking off after her. Keeping her in his sight but sticking close to the shadows. Every time he saw a form approaching her, he put on a fresh burst of speed; anxiety spiking through his blood at the prospect of her getting in harm's way helping him to power through. After they passed without incident, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

He had done this for a few nights now. 

One had told him they wouldn't head out to HQ for a while, something about needing to wrap things up but he didn't question it. It gave him time to check on her. 

Recently, he was getting nervous that she had started to...he hated sounding like a hippie but...she had started to sense his presence.

Like their souls burned too brightly together so the universe made it so they would never be lost in the dark as long as they were near each other’s light.   

A few weeks ago, he had been following her to her apartment after she left Mark and Jean's. He had been wearing all black, a few feet away, on the roof of a building far above her. 

She had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, tilted her head up and stared right where Billy had been standing. He’d dropped like a rock to the concrete floor of the roof, trying to stifle his breathing, which after almost passing out, realized would be insane if she could hear that. 

There had been several other times where there was no possible way (Y/N) should have been able to tell where he was and yet...

She'd look up, right in the direction of where he was and every time, he sent out a plea, See me. Please. Know that I'm here. That I love you. That I never wanted to leave you. Just, please.

Please don't think I broke my promise.

~Seven Months After the Funeral~

She thought the knuckles on her hand were going to pop out of her skin.

Clenching the steering wheel, she chastised herself for making this process so exceedingly difficult. 

Just let go of the wheel. She scolded herself, Release your finger. Just the pinky finger. It won't be too hard. C'mon, don't be a- 

She cut that thought off quickly. 

Too many memories weighed down four little words and if she wasn't careful, they would drag her into the inky blackness of depression. She couldn't risk it. Not with a mission coming up. 

The breath leaving her mouth shuddered out of her like the wind through an old house. Her chest felt too tight, like each breath made her lungs smaller, not bigger.

This isn't how he'd want to see you. 

Like a flash of lightning, the thought illuminated everything and for a second, the world was crystal clear. Her fingers slipped from the wheel only to land dully in her lap, where they curled in on themselves so they looked like dead bugs. 

Snorting, she figured it would be appropriate they looked like dead bugs considering she was in a cemetery. 

Sun shining down, the sky a cloudless blue, made it impossible to not think of his eyes and how they had looked at her in the full light of day. That one day they’d had together.

Those perfect 24 hours. 

Funny how time constricts and bends so some events pass in the blink of an eye while others pass by like a train at a train crossing when you're running late to work. 

Shaking her head, she bowed her head and closed her eyes. The darkness was a welcome reprieve. But not always.

Sleep had become the bogey man at the end of her bed. Sleeping wasn't a relaxing activity, it was prey she had to stalk and take down before it could get her. It wasn't that there were so many nightmares plaguing her, it was just one nightmare.

It was horrible enough that most nights, she didn't even fully fall asleep, it was more like a deep meditative state. The thought that that one nightmare could overwhelm her was enough to make her not want to sleep ever again. The first time the nightmare came to her was a week after his funeral:

Fog would be swirling around her, swallowing up everything in her path. Taking hesitant steps forward, Billy's form would become clearer as she moved forward. Her heart beat speeding up as she saw Billy peering over the edge of the building. 

Suddenly, realization would crash into her like a train. This wasn't just any building. This was the building that Billy had last been seen running across. Knowing that there was nothing on the other side, she would rush forward to warn him, to pull him back, to crush his body to hers and never let him go.

She needed to warn him, to save him. But no matter how fast she pumped her legs, Billy stayed the same distance away. His legs would tense and that's when she'd start screaming. Her vocal cords stretched to their breaking point as she rushed towards him. But before she could reach him, he'd leap into the air, disappear into the fog and...

That's when she'd wake up. Face wet with tears, the last of her screams dying in her throat. 

She always screamed the same thing. 

Billy! Stay!

The first few times she hadn't realized she was actually screaming those words aloud until a neighbor of hers knocked on her door, asking her if she was okay.

She never knew how to answer that question.

It was such an odd one. Mark and Jean asked her that all the time. Whenever they did, she'd grit her teeth and spit out that she was fine because how else was she supposed to answer that question? 

"Actually Mark, Jean, I'm so glad you asked because I'm not okay and I probably never will be again because the only man I ever loved and trusted, up and broke said trust! Oh, and did I also mention he's dead?"

That's how she wanted to answer their asinine question but by the time she felt like she could get those words out, most people had moved on from Billy. Because people always do.

But not her. 

Though, it hadn't taken long for her to want to sleep with someone else. She figured it would help her heal. 

At the very least provide a necessary distraction.

It was always the same. 

Normally, they'd lock eyes across the bar. Raising her glass of scotch she got every time she went to the same bar with the sticky floors, burnt out bulbs and rickety chairs, she'd lift it towards him in a kind of salute. When he'd smirk back and do the same, she'd quirk an eyebrow only to throw back the drink in one go. The thud of glass on wood signaling to the bartender to pour her another. 

Nine times out of ten, their eyes would immediately become hooded with lust (every now and again, one would take a drink at the same time and choke on his own drink at the action.) A smirk would play across his lips as he'd bring his own glass to his lips and drain it in one go.

Men. God forbid a woman out do them in anything. She always thought ruefully as she'd watch her next victim unfold themselves from the bar stool they were seated on to slip into the empty seat next to her. 

There were rules. She refused to sleep with blondes. She had one time. She had moaned out Billy's name and immediately started crying. When the man with her had tried to comfort her she had pushed him away, screaming at him to get out of her apartment.

The other rule was, no sleepovers. Having men sleep over usually meant they overstayed their welcome and she didn't want them getting comfortable anymore than she wanted to spend the night in a bed that wasn't hers. 

Once the rules had been established, it was the same shit with a slightly different dude. They'd engage in flirty banter, a well-timed arm touch, a glance up at him through her lashes, one more drink and then they'd be in the back of a Lyft, hands everywhere, and then a few hours later she'd be back in a Lyft (one time, the same Lyft driver who had dropped them off had picked her up, alone, offering a hive five as she got out of the car) to go back to her apartment.

Alone. 

Most nights she wondered why she did it. Why she was constantly hunting for that same jolt of electricity that she’d had with Billy. Every time her encounters ended, she always wondered what the point of doing this was. Why did she bother when every man she interacted with came up hilariously short? 

She had tried to make it work, to forget him, but the entire time some man would be kissing her, caressing her, touching her, there was always a part of her that was thinking of another man's tattooed, calloused hands on her body. 

A rap on the window caused her to jump, clenching her hands back into fists as Mark waved, sheepishly, at her from the other side of the glass. The flowers grasped in his fist swayed in the breeze. 

Stepping out of her car, Mark moved to hug her. Holding out her hand to stop him she growled, "I'm already on edge. Don't make it worse." Striding around him and towards the plot of land where the box that Billy was supposed to be in laid dormant under the soil.

A place holder.

Nothing more. 

Mark's shoulders sank as he watched her go. Physical contact had been difficult for her since Billy had gone. It was small, but he noticed. Every time he pulled her into a hug when she showed up at training, she'd stiffen, then it turned into her barely reciprocating until she refused them altogether. It made his heart ache, she used to hug everyone no matter if they had known each forever or four minutes. 

But then again, she'd just become more withdrawn in general. It broke his heart to see it. Watching her light fade and dim, it was like a star becoming a black hole. 

Crunching through the sun dried grass toward the plot, she kept her head down, barreling towards her destination. Figuring that if she walked faster, she could outpace her thoughts before they could catch up with her and the realization of where she was and where she was headed could crush her. 

This was the first time they were visiting Billy's grave since she’d started training to become a Sky Walker. Mark and Jean had tried to get her to go sooner but it hadn't been until Mary asked (Y/N) if she would meet her there did she finally acquiesce.  

The only memory she had of Mary was after the funeral. Watching Mary and her mother walk arm in arm back to their car, their shared grief following them like a cloud. 

At that moment, (Y/N) had envied them. They had each other. Their shared love for Billy would be a balm, it would help them try to heal. She only had herself and her memories. Neither of which were particularly warm or comforting at the moment.

"Whoa, easy." Two hands wrapped around her biceps, bringing her to an abrupt stop. 

Looking up, she was met with the same sky blue eyes that Billy had, framed by lashes that were almost as long as Billy's. Blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, Mary smiled ruefully at her, "Just trying to get this over with huh?" 

Forcing herself to swallow over the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, she nodded wordlessly. Mary's eyes took in her form, noting how her clothes seemed to hang on her, the dull, flinty look her eyes had. Mutely, she linked her arm through (Y/N)'s, pulling her into her side. 

Taking a deep breath, they both turned to look at the headstone in front of them. Seeing his name carved into stone caused her heart to speed up. Scolding herself for being so silly for getting twitter-patted over his name. What was she, fourteen? 

But she couldn't help it. 

"It's weird." 

Humming in acknowledgment, (Y/N) didn't know if Mary meant them being here together, the fact that her brother was dead or just the world in general. 

"It's weird that that little line," Mary gestured toward the line in between the numbers that marked when he had been born and when he died, "is supposed to represent his whole life. Everything he said and did. Everyone he loved."

The emotional toll of hearing those words uttered by his sister caused all of the air in (Y/N)'s lungs to leave, her heart to splinter into even tinier parts. Wobbling, she grasped Mary's arm tightly as Mary wound another arm around (Y/N)'s waist to keep her upright. 

“(Y/N!) Easy, you okay?" 

The weight of Mark's hand on her shoulder helped ground her in reality. Her twisted reality where it wasn't Billy's hand on her shoulder. And it never would be again.

Straightening up, she tugged on the end of her coat, shaking her head, "Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Just, it's a lot." 

Mark nodded, eyes taking in his sisters appearance, trying not to seem too shocked that this was the most she had revealed her feelings to him, to anyone, in the past few weeks.  

Locking eyes with Mary's blue ones over top of (Y/N)'s head, he mouthed a quick thank you in which she inclined her head to show she understood. 

Mark had been in contact with Mary constantly. First it was getting names of counselors and support groups to help his sister heal, then it turned into them talking and developing a...something. They had developed a relationship that neither were sure what to call but seeing her here caused his heart to flutter. 

Feeling (Y/N)’s shoulders rise and fall, he lifted his arm so she could step out from underneath them, "I'll see you guys later." 

Opening his mouth, Mark tried to protest but when he felt Mary's hand land on his bicep, he closed it. (Y/N)'s all black form grew to be a small speck on the blue horizon. 

He was surprised the whole ground didn't open up to swallow her at that moment. She looked like a specter of death. But he supposed what she really was was worse. She was a casualty of death, and there was no hope for that. 

~Nine Months After the Funeral~

A few months of intense training later, after she had executed one of the most difficult tricks Jean and Mark had designed, Jean finally told her she was ready to go after Chase. 

"Fucking finally." she groaned, wiping the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt, “I’m going to rinse off and change, then meet me at my apartment!” she yelled over her shoulder as she raced to the locker room. 

Jean nodded and several minutes later, hair still damp, raised a fist to knock on her front door. Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal her laptop open and her kitchen table covered with charts, maps and blueprints of Chase’s compound. 

“What took you so long?” 

Jean whistled as he took it all in, "When did you do this?" 

"When I first read that news article about Chase. So..here's what I'm thinking." Laying out her plan, Jean couldn't help feeling impressed. It was foolproof. He was also relieved that all she wanted was to bring Chase to justice, share his personal files with the government and the entire Internet so she could expose him then get the hell out of there.

As she laid out the plan she was careful not to mention how much Chase needed to pay for all the lives he took with his negligence and selfishness. She kept emotion out of her tone, just the facts, as she walked Jean through her plan to bring Chase to justice. 

But she knew justice wouldn’t be enough. 

Justice was never enough for people like that. Because the rules of justice were skewed so men like that always got off scot free. In her heart of hearts, she knew it didn’t matter if she leaked every atrocious thing he’d ever done. He'd be back out in the public eye in a few years and no one would bat an eyelash because he had money, power and privilege. The three most essential ingredients to make any good villain. 

She wouldn't be able to live with herself if this man was able to walk away. If she didn't do right by Isabella, she didn't know how she'd be able to continue living with herself. 

"From there, I'll get the files, download them to the flash drive, hack into the mainframe, deposit them there and then get the hell out. Minimal damage, minimal casualties, maximum impact." 

"That's how most people describe having sex with me." 

"I don't have time to unpack how distressing all of that is right now but, what do you think? Is it doable? And will you and Mark help me?" 

Jean's eyes scanned the blueprints before him. He saw how her fingers were beating an erratic beat on her thighs, how her feet constantly shifted as if she wanted to take off in a million directions at once. This was the most animated he'd seen her in weeks. He knew this may be their only chance to really get her settled, let her burn off some steam with a mission and then they could get her back to her old self. 

Heaving a giant sigh, he hung his head down, "Fucking fine. We'll do it. BUT," his head snapped up and almost felt bad when he saw the smile that had slipped across her face fade. Almost. "You listen to us. Mark and I have final say in all of this. Got it? We've done this before and while you'll be the one in the field, we have markedly more experience so let us do what we do best. Got it?" 

He stuck out his hand for her to shake. Her (Y/E/C) eyes flitted over his features, seeing if he'd break or if he was just pulling her leg. When she saw nothing but sincerity looking back at her, she slipped her hand into his. "Deal." 

Jean almost started crying when a sparkle caught his eye, her thumb had a final bit of pink sparkly nail polish on it, making him wonder if he had made a terrible mistake. 

~A Week Later~

"I'm in." 

Part of her always cringed whenever she said those two words. She couldn't help but think of a shaggy haired, pre-pubescent 12-year old, huddled over their laptop, fingers clacking frantically, the glow of their computer screen the only thing illuminating the Mountain Dew bottles surrounding them.

But, it just came with the job she supposed. 

Creeping along the hall, she checked over her shoulder. Feeling the familiar flutter of adrenaline spike in her stomach, she reached for the package that was hidden in her pocket. As her fingers brushed over its cylindrical shape she felt her shoulders relax. Then, she moved her hand down further to make sure the knife she’d strapped to her thigh was still firmly in place, that really helped her to relax. 

She quickly sent up a thank you to Cassandra, wherever she was, for leaving her knife sharpening kit at Mark’s place. The linoleum underneath her feet reflected the dim red light that ran along the length of the hallway. 

"In 20 feet you're going to reach the checkpoint. Remember, there's a big ass-"

"Grid of invisible wires, yeah yeah. I know, Jean. We went over this a million times." 

"Well, with how little you pay attention during those meetings I'm surprised you can even remember the address." 

"How about you shut the fuck up and let me do my damn job?" she snarled into her comms. 

Blocks away, Jean ripped his headset off to shake his head at Mark who just sighed, eyes never leaving the computer screen where his sisters grainy form was seen lurking towards the wire netting, "I know, dude. I know."

"Fucking Billy. If only he hadn't-"

"Jean. Please. We all still wish he was here. Don't make it harder."

Huffing out a breath, Jean turned back to the keyboard, shoving his headphones back into place as he deactivated the alarms to the rooms (Y/N) needed to get in to. 

Throwing a strand of her hair into the hallway, she nodded when it settled to the floor without getting zapped. 

"You really don't trust me, do you (Y/N)?

"I trust you, I just don't trust the security protocols in this place. A fortress like this has to have backups of the backups." 

"Bitch! That's why we're here!" 

Snorting at how high Jean's tone had gotten, she continued prowling toward the door that led into Chase’s inner sanctum. He didn't let anyone but a select few into the room that was waiting for her at the end of the hallway. It was where he kept all of his documents, where he entertained foreign emissaries and got them to sign off on him dumping his toxic waste in the water because who cared about people's health when he could make a few more dollars? 

Shaking her head to straighten her brain out, she took a deep breath as she tread closer to the intimidating mahogany door that loomed before her. 

Glancing down, she saw the pad to the left of the door, they needed a retinal scan to get in. She waited as from miles away, Mark's hands were flying over the keyboard as he worked his magic. Using a close up image of Chase's eye they had captured a few weeks ago, he embedded it into the code for the lock. When it lit up green she smirked, "Thanks, big brother." 

"Don't thank me yet. Expose that fucking loser and come home safely. Then we can talk." 

Nudging the door open, she made a beeline for the imposing white desk in front of the picture window looking out over, ironically, the ocean. Rolling her eyes, she briskly walked over to his computer. Fingers gliding over the keys, fishing around in the pocket of her black athletic leggings, she cursed, "Why the FUCK do women's pockets always have to be so small."

"It's just another way for the patriarchy to keep you down. Hard on, sister."

Pausing in her actions, she raised her eyes up, fixing on a distant point as she opened and closed her mouth, ready to correct Jean when Mark's voice rang through her comms, "He's got the right spirit. Just let him have this." 

Shrugging, she bent down to the task at hand, inserting the USB, opening up files and dumping them onto the Internet and sending them to the entire UN Embassy, every government official, Greenpeace and the whole world to condemn this monster. 

As she finished uploading the last of Chase’s files to the EPA’s mainframe, she heard footsteps approaching. 

And right on time. 

"Uhh, (Y/N)? Don't mean to alarm you but Chase himself and four armed guards are barreling down on you. Get out the window NOW and meet at the rendezvous point." 

Hearing how Mark's voice shook on the last word caused her to pause for a fraction of a second, wondering if she was making the right choice. Like a flash, she shook herself from her stupor and straightened up. Pulling the USB out of the computer she dropped it into her pocket, reaching a finger up to disconnect her comms, "I know. I planned for it. Sorry boys. I’ll see you on the other side" She clicked her comms off just as she heard Jean and Mark start to protest.  

Closing her eyes, she rolled her shoulders. Reaching back into her pocket she took out the extra package she’d been carrying and set it on the desk.

Carefully, she extracted the vile and needle that was inside. 

When the door burst open, all Chase saw was a woman, silhouetted by moonlight, holding a needle up to the light, tapping it a few times. 

"Nice of you to join me, Chase. Won't you sit down?" she murmured.

"Who the fuck are you, you crazy bitch? I have the entire government on my ass, PETA has threatened with more than one lawsuit and the FBI, EPA and other three letter entities aren't far behind to pick me up and haul me off for the rest of my life. So," he stepped to the edge of the desk, slamming his palms down, "I'll ask one more time. Who.The. FUCK. Are. You?"

Watching the last air bubble pop, she smiled. She had never felt so calm in her life and when her eyes dragged from the needle to meet Chase’s, he was surprised to see a serene looking woman staring back at him. 

"You killed people. So now I'm going to kill you." 

And she lunged forward.

Her hand came down holding the needle, aiming for the largest artery in his neck. Eyes widening, he stumbled back, arms pinwheeling. Knocking the needle from her hand, she watched it twist through the air, the moon reflecting off the glass and then she lost it as it hit the plush carpet without a sound. 

She didn't have too much time to think about it because all of a sudden the four men that had come in with Chase were on her. 

Leaping onto the desk, she wrapped her thighs around the neck of the man closest to her. Thanking Mark for bullying her into never skipping leg day, she squeezed her legs around his neck as he spun wildly, trying to dislodge her. Hands scrambling at her thighs, he dropped to his knees where she unwound her legs from his shoulders, dropping to the ground and turning in one swift motion, she kneed him in the face, turning to the next man as the one on the floor tried in vain to stop the fountain of blood flowing from his nose. 

Another one was right on her as she aimed a punch right to his midsection, hearing an “OOF” leave his mouth, she kicked his legs out from underneath him. As he landed, she raced in between his legs, located his kneecap and with a twist of her wrist, dislocated it with a sharp POP. 

With a howl, he rolled around on the ground as the one with the bloody nose limped over to help. Breathing heavily she turned, only to be faced with the other two bearing down on her. 

Jesus, she thought, Star Wars always led me to believe the bad guys would come at me one at a time. Not all at once. 

It was the last thought she remembered having before she could only focus on trying to make it out alive. 

One of the men grabbed her arm, she grabbed his wrist, finding a pressure point and bore down until his fingers loosened around her wrist. Not letting up, she snapped his wrist and kicked him in the groin. 

As he slumped to the ground, the other one grabbed her ankle, yanking her leg out from underneath her causing her to face plant into the carpet. Her hands scrabbled for anything to hold onto as he dragged her body towards him. Twisting, she reached for her knife. As he reached a hand down toward her throat, she brought it up in one quick motion. 

She rolled away as the man screamed in agony as he searched for his missing finger. Scrambling to her feet, she felt something collide with the back of her head. Her vision began to swim as the carpet came up to meet her face once again. She’d forgotten about the first guard who had been attending to the second man she’d taken down. Now, he stood over her, teeth bared, blood still flowing from his nose, gun cocked and aimed right in between her eyes. 

"Wait!" 

Chase's form became clearer as he knelt down beside her, "You don't deserve to die by a bullet do you?" He cooed as he stroked a finger down her cheek. Turning her head, she tried to snap at his finger but the quick movement caused her to retch. 

Laughing softly, she heard the tap of fingernails hitting a glass vile, "You deserve to die by your own little concoction. It’s much more poetic, don't you think?" 

He leaned over her, bringing his mouth to her ear as he caressed her arm, rubbing two fingers over the crook of her elbow, "Like Romeo and Juliet but, darling Juliet" she hissed as he stabbed the needle into her arm, "This time, Romeo will live. And he'll win." He pressed the release and she felt a tear leak from her eye when suddenly, the world exploded. 

Glass fell over her form like stars falling from the sky as the bright lights of a stealth helicopter illuminated the room. The man with the bloody nose whipped his gun toward the window, firing rapidly but quickly crumpled as someone strode right up to him, and shot him point blank. 

Chase scrambled up, hands out in front of him, "What the fuck is this? Are you CIA? FBI? Listen, I have more money than God, I can set you up for the rest of your life. You'll never have to worry-"

A gunshot was the only answer Chase got. 

"More than one person can have more money than God, ass-wipe." The figure kicked Chase's body as he walked past him, his form swimming before (Y/N) as the poison leaked into her blood stream, "And besides," he knelt down by her form, fingers searching for a pulse, "I use reusable straws because baby turtles are cute as fuck."

Her head lolled to the side as she used the last bits of her strength to see who her savior was. A man with a rugged face stared back as he moved to crouch behind her, cradling her head in his hands as he yelled to someone behind him to hurry the fuck up. 

A second face looked down at her as she felt her eyelids begin to close, the hushed sounds of the man holding her head offering soothing platitudes as she made peace with the fact that she was about to die. 

As the second person rifled through the medical bag they had been carrying, hurriedly pulling out instruments, the last thing she heard was the man whispering into her ear, "Come on darling. Hold on for me. Hold on for him." 

~Three Days Later~

Bright. 

That was her first thought as her eyelids fluttered open and immediately closed upon being assaulted by blinding white light. 

For a wild second she thought she had gone to heaven. 

"I know what you're thinking. Is this heaven? No. It's not. Because if this were heaven I'd be smoking a fat blunt, drinking the finest gin while lying on a nude beach where no living person could bother me. People like you." 

The squeal of chair legs being dragged over the floor caused her to flinch. The voice that spoke was dry, making her wonder if this man ever took anything seriously. And also if he could read minds. 

"Pretty good stunts you pulled out there. You learn that shit from watching Black Widow too many times?" 

Silence. She tried to keep her breath steady so maybe he would think she was still asleep. 

"Sweetheart, I just saw your eyelids crack open a second ago. There's no way in hell you dropped back off to sleep that quickly." 

"Shouldn't I be dead?" It felt like her vocal cords were two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. The sound that was expunged from her throat was a dry husk.  

"Should be but, like Chase, I have more money than God and a crack team of experts. One of whom happens to know exactly what was in that vial and the antidote for it. You've been stable and asleep for three days now." 

He saw her eyebrows twitch, which he figured was the most reaction he would get out of her. 

Keeping her eyes closed made it easier to digest the information he was throwing at her and to keep her poker face in tact. The voice sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't place where or when, she’d heard it before.

"Is he-?" 

"Dead? Yeah. A half dose of poison most people can come back from, but a bullet right through the skull? Much like Humpty Dumpty, we can't exactly put that back together again." 

She felt her lips twitch and scolded herself for letting any emotion show through. 

"He deserved it."

"I know. And you deserve to use your skills in a better way." Her body stilled, her breath stopped for a beat and when it resumed, the monologue continued, "I have...fuck I hate sounding like Samuel L. Jackson but I have a team. And we could use someone like you." 

Another scraping sound, the soft rustle of fabric moving as the voice sounded like it was coming over her, "Think about it. And I'll contact you. Don't worry. I always keep my promises." 

Her hands clenched, the veins popping out as those five words washed over her like a cold shower.

The clenched hands were all the reaction he needed. 

Hearing his footsteps get softer she reached a hand down and felt a piece of cardstock brush against her finger tips. When the door closed, she cracked open an eyelid to look down at it, but it was blank. 

~~~

Closing the door, One leaned up against the hallway, letting his head knock against the wall of the hospital. 

Four had warned him. 

But this made things incredibly interesting. 

Or difficult. It all depended on how he wanted to view the situation. 

And what she wanted. 

After the funeral, One’d kept a close eye on Four. He knew what kind of pull love could have over a man. And Four was young. The youngest on the team in age, sure, but he let his feelings get the better of him a lot of the time which made him seem even younger. 

Which could be dangerous. And they were already in way too much danger as it was on a daily basis so he needed to nip it in the bud. 

Closing his eyes, he thought about the first time he caught Four. 

~Two Months Ago~

It had been quiet. 

The wind whistled through the various holes that littered the planes, causing sand to get whipped up along with it, tornadoes forming and quickly collapsing. 

One had been awake. He rarely slept but he had been in the Case Room, going over some files. Trying to decide what their next mission needed to be when he heard a noise. 

Keeping his body still, he strained his ears to see if he would hear it again. When he heard the floor creak, he crept to the door, peering out to see who or what it could possibly be. 

Seeing the familiar shape of Four's hoodie, he rolled his eyes. When he saw him creep into the control room, he became suspicious. He knew how tempting the draw was to check on the ones you cared about. But with how emotionally fragile Four had been since he'd joined, he didn't think this was the best idea, but he needed to confirm that’s what he was doing before he blew up on the kid. 

Pushing the door open, he walked down the hallway, being careful to tread lightly so as not to alert Four to his presence till he absolutely needed to. 

Using his years of training, he placed his body precisely so he could look into the room but Four wouldn't be able to see him should he look around. Which, he didn't think would be an issue. Four was engrossed by the screen in front of him, One didn't think a nuclear explosion would cause him to look up. 

Taking his chances, he slunk into the room. Four had footage of an apartment pulled up on the screens. Three people, two guys, one girl, standing around a table. Four had headphones on so One couldn't hear the audio but it looked like the individuals on screen were in the middle of an intense argument. 

Nibbling his thumbnail, Four's eyes were laser focused on the woman as she gesticulated wildly. Blueprints, computer screens and maps littered every available surface of the apartment and One recognized the planning stages of a mission. He got a little closer and recognized the girl on screen as the same one who had been at Four's funeral. 

Four had told him his background on the trip over to HQ. One figured the other two were the ones that were left over from his original Sky Walker crew. 

(He’d roasted Four about that dumbass name for weeks afterward.)

Shaking his head, One heaved a sigh and reached forward to snatch the headphones off Four's head. 

"HEY! Who the bloody hell-" Four's frame twisted up and out of the chair only to come to an immediate stop when he saw who had his headphones dangling from their fingertips. 

"Didn't know The Bachelorette had a new season running! Are they in the hometown segment?"

Four blinked at him, "It's really distressing you know that much about The Bachelorette." 

"What's really distressing is the fact that you're checking up on her. What the fuck do you think you're doing Four?" 

"Look, I'm sorry but-"

"No. There are no buts here. Even if her butt is really nice, you gotta put it behind you dude. Especially her."

"I know that, One but-"

One had started pacing back and forth as he warmed to the topic before him, "Do you know how much money is on the line here? How much is at stake? Our lives, our very existence, this could all blow up at any point and we could die. For real. Or, even worse, the government comes in, blows up our spot and we get sentenced to death. Or worse, jail.  And you yourself have such fond feelings of, what did you call them? The pigs?" One shot Four a disgruntled look at that statement, noting how Four's hands were clenching and unclenching in an attempt to stay cool. 

"Look, One, I just-"

Rounding on him, pointing a finger in his face One roared, "No, Four, you just. You clearly don't want to be part of this team. Clearly I made a mistake in asking you to be part of this if you can't get over the little school girl crush you have on this girl you slept with once and she sucked your dick so well that you mistook it for love-"

His air supply was cut off as Four slammed One up against the wall. The tattoos decorating his hand popped against his skin as he gripped One’s windpipe in a steel trap. For the first time since bringing Four onto the team, One was truly afraid of him and understood why he was so good at what he did. 

The look in Four's eyes cowed One immediately as Four growled out the next few sentences, "You listen up right here, right now you fucking prick," Slamming his head back into the wall One saw stars, "Her name is (Y/N) and she is worth more than any person on this damn planet. She's the best person I’ve ever been with and I’m damn lucky she even deigned to give me the time of day. She’s the reason I even joined this bloody insane operation, so show some fucking respect or I'll have no problem slitting your throat and moving on with my life." 

One's vision was getting black around the edges as he frantically nodded his head at Four’s words. Four let him go where he collapsed to the floor on hands and knees, coughing as Four paced around the room, scrubbing at the shaved sides of his head with his fists. 

After a few seconds of coughing, One rubbed at his throat as he pushed himself up, "You're fucking crazy, dude. Really glad I recruited you. That's the kind of attitude we need out in the field." 

Four shook his head as he let out a humorless laugh as One brushed his hands off, "You don't understand One. You never will." 

"Cut the emo bullshit. We're not in Twilight. We're adults, just tell me what-" He stopped as Four  swiftly turned to face him, eyes pleading,

"She became a Sky Walker, One. She's doing what I used to do because she doesn't think her life has any meaning and that's bullshit. She's my everything, okay? She's the reason I get up in the morning. She's the reason I do this damn job. She's the reason I keep myself alive out there. She's my guiding light. She's the sunshine on a cloudy day and-and” he waved his hands around uselessly as he tried desperately to pull another cliche from thin air, “I don’t know, man. She’s every other cliche you know about how someone makes your world better and she's putting herself at risk because of me" 

One stood stock still as Four took another deep breath in, the fire in his eyes going from an inferno to embers as he stared at the screen where it showed her bending over the blueprints, tracing a line with her finger, "She's the love of my life and-" taking a shuddery breath in One felt his own eyes start to get misty, "Her light is the one thing that keeps me going in this miserable world. And if she's gone, I don't know if I'll make it." A tear made its way down One’s cheek as Four admitted this last part on a whisper. 

One wasn't sure he was supposed to hear that last part but there was stillness as the room held its breath as it waited for what One would have to say, 

"Alright. What do you need from me?" 

Four's eyes snapped to One's. Stepping closer to One, his eyes roved over his face, trying to tell if he meant it, "You're not messing with me are you?" 

"Not in this regard. Probably over something else I will but, what would make you feel better?"

Four took a second to contemplate it, "If she does seem like she's in trouble with this mission, we rescue her.” His eyes widened as he took another step closer to One, “AND, you offer her a spot on the team."

"Four-"

"One it's this or you lose me for good if she-she- '' Four's voice cracked as he turned his head away. Not even able to finish that horrible thought. 

One’s heart squeezed in his chest. Christ, he thought, I’m more invested in their relationship than any bystander should be.  

Groaning, One rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Fucking fine. I'm so going to regret this but...fuck it. If it seems like things are going sideways, we'll step in. I'll offer her a place on the team." Four started to smile but One stepped forward, pointing a finger in his face, "You have to meet with her before she makes her final decision though. I can offer it to her but she gets the final call if she wants to do this thing with us. With you. Got it?"

Nodding frantically, Four closed the gap between the two of them and wrapped One in a hug, "Oh, so we talk about our feelings for two minutes and all of a sudden we're into hugs? Weird."

Four let him go and with one last look at the screens, bade One goodnight. 

Watching him leave, One turned to the screens, watching her analyze the blueprints, writing notes on them occasionally. Leaning on the back of the rolling chair One sighed, "Oh (Y/N), you have no idea what you've done."

~~~

Reaching into his pocket, One slide his phone out, shooting a quick text to Four, 

She’s awake. And alive. Now we wait. 

Heaving a sigh, he glanced down the hallway to see Seven approaching. Making eye contact with One, he raised his arms up as if to say, Well? What's happening?

"Fuck if I know. She's insane.” At Seven’s bug eyed look he quickly backpedaled, “In a good way. I don't think she's insane in, like, a psychological way. Just grieving."

"Oh good because grief is such a good emotion to grapple with in this line of work. Oh, and by the way did we mention that the man she’s grieving is actually alive and well?" 

"You know, sarcasm is really ugly on you. Luckily, I'm not ugly so I can wear sarcasm well." 

Snorting, Seven slumped against the wall next to One, letting his own head thud softly against the wall. Crossing his arms they both stared ahead at an unknowable future.

Seven broke the silence, "What really happens now, One. I mean, I know she's good, we all saw her in action. Taking out all four of those guards? Her entire plan was foolproof. It was impressive, no doubt but this is a tricky situation, one that none of us has ever had to deal with before." 

"I know, I know." One let those four words out on a single huff of breath. Groaning he squeezed his eyes closed, "Why did I have to pick the one man on this earth who's desperately in love with a girl who so happened to be desperately in love with him and then they both went full Batman when they lost each other?"

"Because you see yourself in Four. That's why."

One's eyes slid over to Seven, "That doesn't leave this hallway."

Nodding once to show he understood, Seven pressed himself up. Twisting his body so he was facing One, his posture the only remnant to remind everyone he was once the perfect soldier, "But seriously One, what now. What can I do?"

Pressing his hands against the wall, One heaved himself up with a grunt, "Solve this for me?" The single eyebrow raise was the only answer he got, "Alright, alright. Come on. We need to go back and debrief everyone on this crazy shit. Don't know how I'm going to use small enough words to explain this to Three." 

"You're on your own for that one dude." Seven laughed as they ambled down the hall, laughter dying on his lips his face fell into a serious mask, "How do you think Four's going to handle it?" 

"If I knew I wouldn't be having this charming heart-to-heart with you." 

"Seriously man, you're not even a little bit worried?"

"I'm freaking out dude!" Seven was brought up short as One rounded on him, gesticulating wildly, "This is no man's land! Even more so than this original idea! Four's so deep in his feelings with this girl and she's clearly heartbroken about him being gone and is on a one-woman train toward self-destruction that she's determined to meet him in death and” One’s eyes widened comically, “Ooooh my god I've Romeo and Juliet-ed them. Holy shit, I'm the Nurse. I'm too beautiful to be The Nurse!" 

Gently prying One's hands from his collar, Seven looked him dead in the eye, "You have got to get a grip. You're spiraling and it's making your eyes go in two different directions."

Crushing his eyes closed, One took a deep breath in, "You're right. You're right. I need to get it together. We can handle this." Stepping back One hopped up and down on the balls of his feet, punching the air, "I need you to slap me." 

The crack of Seven's palm making contact with his cheek sent One staggering back several steps. 

"OW! What the fuck? No hesitation? No asking if I was sure?"

"I've been wanting to do that since the day you broke into my apartment." Seven shrugged as One glared at him, cupping his pink cheek.

"Fine, but it did help clear my head. So. Thanks. I guess."

Seven smirked.

"Alright, the plan. Let's talk to Four first. He needs to understand that for this to work, he needs to talk to her one on one. And it has to be her call. We can't influence her. If she wants in, fine but they need to work through their shit. And if she says no? Then we let her walk back to her life. And Four needs to respect that. He has to let her go." 

"Easier said than done. I've seen his face when he looks at pictures of her on his phone." 

"Yeah well, bet you didn't know he's also been following her? Keeping watch over her via surveillance tapes? And tracking her home?”

That brought Seven up short, "No? What the fuck?"

"I know. If it was anybody else's story I would have called the cops ages ago. As it is, it’s kind of romantic"  

~A Week Later~

"We're all ghosts down here. Except, we don't float. One because gravity's intact and two because I'm not a cannibalistic clown." 

"Could've fooled me." 

"Didn't know I recruited fucking Tina Fey over here. Anyway, here's headquarters. Or home sweet home." One said in that same drole way he had of phrasing everything.  

Walking through the punishing desert to get to the graveyard of felled planes had caused a shiver to pass through her. She did her best to suppress it but it was difficult. Passing through the giant hulking masses of steel caused her to feel like she was encroaching on the territory of ancient deities. The area felt loaded with their silence, the carnage keeping a silent watch as their footfalls disrupted the grains of sand that were being buffeted by the wind that swirled through the gaping openings in the bellies of the planes.  

It had been a week since she’d been discharged from the hospital, well, not hospital, but the private sanctuary One had kept her at while she healed.

He had come into her room the day after he had left his card, shock on his face at seeing her sitting up, arms crossed. 

"What the hell do you do and how do I fit into it?" 

The single eyebrow she raised at One prompted him to explain, in detail, everything they did and what it would entail. 

She’d been silent, eyes focused on his face, not making any sounds or moving until he finished his spiel. Then nodding, she asked one question, 

"When do I start?" 

He explained that her death would be easy to fake since she had technically almost died anyway. What he he hadn't told her was he hadn’t made it public just yet, he didn't want to make her brother and friend worry too much. Or give them a false alarm only for her to waltz back from the dead if she couldn’t handle being with Four. 

So, here she was, following One up the stairs of the largest plane carcass. Pushing aside the plastic curtains that did their best to keep sunlight, sand and bugs out, he extended an arm in an exaggerated bow. 

"I do hope it's to your liking Princess." 

"Don't call me that you prick." She murmured as she breezed past him, pausing in the doorway to let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of the plane after being out in the searing sunlight. 

The main room held more computer monitors than she had ever seen. She thought Mark's setup of four monitors had been impressive but the wall of screens staring back at her made her realize how rookie their operation had been. 

A large silver table in the middle held a commanding presence and she knew, instinctively, that One felt most comfortable at the head of it, barking orders while still being able to hit the group in front of him with a sarcastic jab or two. 

Taking a few hesitant steps forward she peered at the weapons lining the back wall. Snorting, she gestured to it lazily, turning her head to pierce One with a gaze, "You preparing for the apocalypse or do I require this much of a security detail?" 

One's face broke into a fake smile as he leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees as he wheezed a few times, "Oh my god, sweetheart, oh god, please, stop, my stomach, it can't take the hilarity anymore, please, god." With that last word the smile dropped from his face and he stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest, 

"We're a group of vigilantes that have a specific subset of skills that makes us some of the most dangerous people on the planet. We go after the people that are even more dangerous than us. You think we just talk about our feelings and politely ask them to stop committing human rights atrocities?" 

Brushing past her he shook his head, "Unbelievable." Muttering about new blood while he started down the hallway. 

Eyes dancing over the various boards lighting up, she had the unmistakable sense that someone was watching her. One had told her there were five more that she would meet so she wondered if one of them was about to jump her as a weird sort of initiation. 

But when she turned her head to the entrance, there was nothing. 

Just the wind, blowing the plastic flaps back and forth. Scanning over the area she could have sworn the darkest corners contained something that was intrigued with her. Taking a hesitant step forward, One's voice jolted her out of her paranoia, "Hey, Amy Poehler, you coming to share more of your classic wit with the whole class or are you just going to dilly dick around all day? C'mon, I'm a busy man." 

"Coming!" She yelled back, turning on her heel to jog down the hallway after him, turning her head one last time to make sure no ghosts were following. 

~

Billy breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that today was the day he’d have to face her. He and One had discussed it extensively last night. One had been adamant, don't get attached to her being on the team before she explicitly says she wants to stick around, you know the rules, I know Seven changed things a little but this is getting into a whole new territory of softness and on and on while Billy had just sat there, taking it. 

One finally ran out of steam (Billy wondered, not for the first time, if One had a coke addiction to get all the energy he needed) and Billy nodded his head, chewing over everything One had just said. He opened his mouth, preparing to show One how much he understood, how this was him only looking out for the team and adding a valuable asset. What came out of his mouth surprised him and One, 

"I love her. I need her or else I won't make it through this life alive." He lifted his eyes to One and One took a sharp intake of breath. He had never seen Billy so open, so vulnerable. Even when he had been on the brink of dying, twice. 

Searching his blue eyes, One sighed, dragging a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he scrubbed at his hair, groaning, "Fuck me, I must be getting soft in my old age. FINE. But remember. You have to talk to her. If you two can't work through your shit, she's gone. Poof. Vamoose. Got that? This is her choice. She gets to make the call if she stays, if she wants to work with you and if she leaves. Not you. Capisce?"

Billy nodded, trying his hardest to mask the eagerness he felt at the possibility of being with (Y/N) again. Being around her light, feeling that same pull into her warmth. 

So, how could anyone blame him for wanting to see her as soon as she stepped foot into headquarters? 

He had lurked in the shadows, pulling his hood over his hair, making sure his eyes were concealed. His eyes were her favorite part of him, she had told him during those amazing 24 hours they had shared together. 

Billy couldn't believe it had been 365 days since they had seen each other. It felt like it had gone by so fast. But then again, he’d been all over the world, fighting bad guys and overthrowing dictators, (Y/N) had been living her life. 

And started Sky Walker training which he was going to have to talk to her about that. 

When she walked in, Billy had shrank even farther into the shadows, biting his tongue till he tasted blood, so he wouldn’t scream out her name. 

It was still the same (Y/N) he’d fallen in love with, longer hair, more muscles but what really threw him was her eyes. They were the same color but the warmth that he had come to love was extinguished. Replaced with a flinty resolve that if anyone talked or looked at her, they would get their ass kicked. 

It was the first time that he started to wonder if maybe this was the best idea. And let himself ponder the idea that she could potentially say no. That she wouldn't want to see him. That she would never be able to forgive him.

But he needed to know. He needed to try, he needed to show up for himself and for her. To show her that he still loved her, that he had always loved her. 

Stepping out of the shadows, he pulled his hood down, making his way to the meeting room where they’d be waiting for him.  

It wasn't till he brought his hand down from his hood that he realized his hands were shaking.

~

"Hola, Papi. Who's this lovely lady sitting here? My birthday isn't until next week." Three smirked as he pulled a chair out for himself, aiming a lazy wink at (Y/N). Her months of seducing men just like him in bars kicked in and she winked back, letting a slow smile crawl across her face. 

An intimidating blonde woman kicked his chair as she sank into her own, "I meet your mother and this is the thanks I get?" 

"You know I didn't mean it mi amor. I've only got eyes for you."

"And apparently any other attractive woman in a six mile radius." She extended her hand to (Y/N), "I'm Two. Nice to meet you."

Grasping Two’s hand in her own, she shook it, impressed with the strength of the woman's grip. 

"Well, since you and Two are so happy together, this is my time to shine. I'm Seven." Seven grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, holding her prone in his stare. He pulled back, winking at her and she felt a blush climb into her cheeks, "(Y/N). You have a much better chance than Three does at getting into these Nike leggings." 

Seven's jaw dropped as One made a retching noise and Five stepped forward, extending her hand "I don't want to get into your leggings but I’m glad there's someone else here who's trained to keep these idiots alive." 

(Y/N) shook her hand, smiling back at her, "Surprised they've lasted this long with just one doctor."

"You and me both." Rolling her eyes she turned to One, "This the one we picked up from Casewell’s joint?” 

“The very same” was One’s reply as he flicked through the folder in his hands. 

Five’s eyebrows rose up as a low whistle escaped her lips, “Shit. Well, I’m definitely glad you came around then. I’m assuming you’re the one who brought the vile of polonium?” 

(Y/N) nodded, very aware of every eye in the room assessing her, sizing her up. It was like being in a room with Cassandra but multiplied by five.

“We saw you in action. Very impressive.” Two chimed in, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Everyone else nodded as she tried her best to tamp out the flush of appreciation building in her cheeks. Snorting, she deflected, “Thanks. I guess you guys couldn’t have stepped in earlier to help, huh?” 

“Sweetheart that’s not really our style. And in case you missed the chopper outside the building, we’re very particular about our style.” Flinging the folder down on the table, One braced his hands on the back of a chair, “So, now you’ve met everyone. The whole Brady Bunch of chucklefucks before you.” 

(Y/N) had been mentally going over everyone's names in her head, when she furrowed her brow, "Hold on, either I’m dumber than I thought or your numbers are all out of whack. Where are Six and Four?"

Seven flicked his eyes to Two. Five shifted in her seat, opening her mouth when One cut her off, "Six is no longer with us and Four will be in shortly. I wanted you to meet the whole team first, get a feel for us, then meet Four and make your decision if you'd want to stay with us."

Cocking her head she flicked her eyes to One, "Why? Is Four like a 4Chan meninist who hates women? Why would he be the catalyst for whether I stay or go?" 

Since meeting him, this was the first time she had seen One at a loss for words. It made her pulse speed up, clenching her hands into fists she tried to ignore the moisture that had started to accumulate on her palms. 

One opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, only to sigh and rub the bridge of his nose as he moved to the door of the meeting room they had been in, "It's probably easier if we just get this over with. Alright. Everyone out. C'mon hurry up." He waved his hands impatiently at the rest of the team standing around. Reluctantly they all started to move, Seven and Three grumbling about how they didn't want to miss any of the drama. Everyone stopped when her chair clattered to the floor, hands clenched at her sides as she took a step toward the door. 

"What drama? One? What's going on?" She hated how shaky her voice came out but she couldn't help it. What did they mean? Was Four their muscle? Was it a weird hazing thing? Would she have to try to kill this person? Try to make it out of this room alive? 

One was standing half in and half out of the doorway, hand closed over the door knob. Turning back, he locked eyes with her (Y/E/C) ones.  

Her blood ran cold. He looked, sorry. Almost like he pitied her. She was pretty sure One didn't  have feelings so to see this much emotion directed at her? 

She was terrified. 

"It'll all make sense. Just...do what you think is right. Okay? You seem like a smart kid. Trust your gut."

And with those cryptic words he left, shutting the door. Sealing her in to wait for this new threat to emerge. 

~

One walked out of the conference room and ran right into Billy. 

"Jesus, kid. Any closer to me and you'd need to buy me dinner and drinks before that shit."

Billy's eyes looked right through One, "Is she in there? What did you tell her? What's she like? What did she say?" 

One held up his hands to cut off the avalanche of questions, "Yes. The bare minimum by introducing her to everyone. She's like how she was a few minutes ago when you were spying on her, don't think I didn't see you, and she hasn't said anything that I would write home to my own mother about. Oh, except she did tell Seven he could get into her Nike leggings." 

Billy's eye widened and he twisted his body to where the sounds of the team were filtering back to the two of them, "I'll kill him myself if he even laid a fucking hand on her, I swear to god."

"Woah, hey kid. Easy. It was just some harmless flirting and besides, (Y/N)'s a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. You don't get to dictate who she does and doesn't sleep with."

Billy's eyes were unfocused as he clenched and unclenched his hands. One took stock of the bundle of nerves before him and felt his shoulders droop a little. 

It was times like this that really drove home young Four was. He was the most vulnerable (in terms of emotions and in how little protection he had during missions) and after hearing how he really felt about (Y/N), well, it caused One's own shriveled heart to grow two sizes too big after hearing it. 

Even though sometimes when he heard her name, he could still feel Billy’s hand clamping down around his windpipe. 

He didn't fault Four for it. Seeing how she reacted at the sight of Four's grave almost made him cave and push Four forward, yelling at her to stop crying.

It ripped his heart apart, especially because it made him think about the family he still had out there.   

Sighing, he placed his hands on Billy's tense shoulders, feeling the muscles and sinews so tight he was surprised they didn't snap, "Hey. Hey. Look at me." Billy dragged his eyes away from the door and to One's face, "Don't go in there all freaked out. I think I already stressed her out a little bit so...be cool, okay? And remember, respect her decision. I'll give you all the space you need if she leaves but...respect her choice. That's top priority. Got it?" One gave Four's shoulders a gentle shake so he knew that Four had heard what he’d said. 

Feeling Four's joints loosen as he took stock of his words, One slapped him on the back as he walked back down the hallway, "Also, just a heads up, we will be watching this whole interaction over the feeds so just keep that in mind if you two decide to start fucking." 

~

(Y/N) had been pacing the perimeter of the room, checking for cracks, a hidden door, something so she could get out of here alive. She didn't have any weapons on her. Well, except a Swiss Army knife but that barely counted. 

Running her finger tips over the walls she felt her heart clench as she looked at her busted fingernails. They were cropped short and bare. She missed her pink sparkly nail polish. She carried it with her everywhere though. She always figured that when she started feeling better she'd paint her nails again. So far, it was still unopened. 

Hearing the door knob turn she inhaled sharply, whipping around so her back was pressed into the farthest corner of the room. Her fists clenched and her thighs prepared to pounce or run, whichever came first. Hearing her heart pounding in her chest she took a deep steadying breath as the door opened wider, allowing light to come spilling in, illuminating a silhouette in the doorway. 

She couldn't make out any features under the hood they were wearing. The light in the room was dim and compared to the fluorescent lighting in the hallway, she had to squint to try to make out any features this individual had. Her heart beat sped up the tiniest bit when she realized the figure was built like Billy. 

Then the figure cleared their throat and closed the door behind them. Taking cautious steps into the light. She opened her mouth, "Are-are you Four?" The figure stopped abruptly and nodded in response to her question. She wondered briefly if they were a mute as she ran a hand through her hair. 

Billy's heart almost fell out of his chest when he saw that her hand was shaking as she pushed her hair out of her face. He so badly wanted to be the one to do that he had to plant his feet more firmly on the floor so he wouldn’t race to her.

"They, uh, they haven't assigned me a number yet and I know you all don't do names here so, I guess we gotta wait for me to really introduce myself but I'm the new recruit. It's nice to meet you." She held out her hand, stepping forward. 

After a tense moment, Billy extended his. 

She cocked her head to the side when she noticed Four's hand was shaking. She looked up at him but she still couldn't make out his face with the lighting and his hood. She could just see his bottom lip and she was surprised when she felt her stomach clench at the sight of how full and pink it was. 

Looking down, she clasped her hand in his and felt her blood run cold. 

Running along Four's fingers were tattoos.

Tattoos that were identical to the kind that Billy had.  

Lifting her head up seemed to take an eternity to Billy. 

He held his breath as her other hand reached up, index finger extended, shaking like a leaf in a storm as she brought it within millimeters of making contact with the tattoos she had traced so lovingly during those 24 hours. 

"You bastard." 

~~~

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[trauma-13]

Birth story.

I'm posting this mostly so I can remember it down the line when it's not as fresh in my mind.

On may 27th, I had my weekly OB appointment. I was 38 weeks and 2 days. I went in, peed in a cup, and waited for my appt time. I got called back shortly, and had my vitals take. My blood pressure was 128/88. Not bad, but higher than it had been, even just the day before. I honestly didn't think much of it. My provider comes in, says she wants to recheck my BP, draw labs, and schedule me for a induction once I got to 39 weeks. She was concerned because my BP was higher and I had slight protein in my urine-for those not in the medical field reading this, she was concerned I was developing pre-eclampsia which is a very serious complication of pregnancy. So the MA comes back, rechecks my pressure-136/96. I assumed it was from anxiety of now being told I may have pre-eclampsia. My provider was in another room, so the MA had me go to the lab area to start blood work while she waited for the doc to finish in the other room. My doctor walked in the room a couple minutes later and said "nevermind labs, I want you to go to Shea (my delivery hospital)" I immediately started to panic, and asked "why, am I going to be induced?" She told me she didn't know yet, but wanted me to get stat labs, and be monitor vitally and the baby monitored for a couple hours. She said depending on labs would depend if I would be induced. She told me she'd see me at Shea.

Needless to say, I was pure panic. I'm not sure how I didn't burst into tears right then, but I some how didn't. I was terrified. Being a nurse, I know the bad things that can happen, and of course that's all I was focused on. I got to my car, still not crying, and called my husband. I told him to get dressed, and grab stuff to go to Shea, that I was fine and that I would tell him everything when I got home. Still no crying. I called my mom, because well she's my mom and she was going to come and stay with our dogs when I went into labor so they weren't alone for potentially days on end. As soon as mom answered the phone, all the walls came down and I started crying. Not just normal crying, full blown, can't talk, sobbing. She, of course, panics. She knew I had an OB appt, and she assumed the worst. I finally got my self together enough to tell her "I'm fine, the baby is fine," I explained everything that was going on, and that I was heading to the hospital shortly. I talked to her the entire 6 minute car ride home, still crying, and scared. She asked me if I wanted her to come up, and I said yes. She lives 3 hrs away, so it's not like she's close. I didn't know what the next few hours of my life held, and that was terrifying.

I got home, James had grabbed all our stuff, and had made sure to get the extra last minute things too. He asked if I was okay because I'd obviously been crying, I told him physically yes, emotionally no and that I was afraid of the next few hours and the uncertainty. We took the dogs out, stopped to get gas, and headed to Shea.

We get to the hospital around 1pm or so. I told them everything my doc had said, and the tech checking me in said my doc had called ahead and let them know about me. Even more fear sets in. We get back to a room, I give them a urine sample and change into the lovely gown. My nurse comes in and does her exam and tells me the plan. We're going to draw labs, monitor me and the baby and depending on all of the results would determine our next steps. At this point I had let my mother in law, and 3 best friends know what was going on incase we did get admitted for induction.

We sat in the room for a couple hours. I was contracting basically the whole time, but they were about 20 mins apart. I asked the nurse about it, she said they were fairly strong on the monitor, but weren't close enough yet. So around 5pm or so, another nurse comes in, she says my original nurse got pulled into an emergency delivery, but that she was going to discharge me so we could go home. I was a bag of emotions at this point. I had accepted that I'd be induced and would meet our baby soon, and had gotten over the fear and now I was being discharged. I was given strict orders to go home, relax, drink lots of water and "come back in 24 hrs for repeat labs, and make sure to bring your hospital bags when you come tomorrow," to me, that meant we were being induced tomorrow. Apparently it's some insurance thing, that they couldn't induce me that day. No clue.

So we go home. My mom's at the house. I told her everything they said and the plan for the next day.

Fast forward to 4pm the next day, it was time to head back to Shea. We got all of our things together and head over. I got checked into triage and brought back to a triage room. They hooked me up to the monitors, and at that point everything looked okay. Babys strip was great, I wasn't really contracting and my BP was doing okay at 130s/80s. They drew blood and then it was a waiting game.

I had started contracting again about 45 minutes after getting to the hospital. They were strong, and painful, and about 8-10 mins apart. They were painful enough that I was having to completely stop whatever I was doing, and just focus on breathing. I was assuming it was because I was stressed because the same thing had happened the day before. Of course, my blood pressure started to go up. Nothing crazy, but it was higher, about 140s/90s. My doctor came in around 6pm and said she wanted to admit me and induce me. She was concerned that if I went into labor naturally my BP would elevate too much and cause further issues. The plan was to admit me to labor and delivery, start pitocin, do an epidural, and have a baby! My doctor said, "around 4am we'll have this baby, so try to nap and relax once you get to the other room." Shift changed happens at 7pm, so one of the triage nurses started an IV, some fluids and we waited for the night shift nurse to come on for me to go over to the other room.

Around 715-730ish my L&D nurse came over and we headed over to the other room. During the *maybe* 1 minute walk over to the other room I had to stop and just breathe because holy contractions! Again, still convinced I wasn't really in labor. We got to L&D, I sat on the bed, and my nurse started asking me all the normal questions and asked what my plan was reguarding an epidural and if I wanted to do that before or after the pitocin. I was right in the middle of a VERY strong and painful contraction, and I didn't answer her right away. After the contraction passed, she said I looked incredibly uncomfortable and asked if I was okay. I straight up just started crying and told her I was so uncomfortable, and frankly I was terrified of pitocin. James was rubbing my back, and she grabbed my hands and said "don't worry, I'll go page the anaesthesiologist right now and we'll put the epidural in before we even think about pitocin. I want you comfortable first and foremost." I tried to lay down and get as comfy as possible until the doc came in.

Around 8pm he came in, explained the whole procedure and we got it done. It was so quick, and easy and I had such immediate relief. I could finally relax!! Physically and mentally! After the epidural was in, my nurse checked me, I was 4-5cm dialated, 90% effaced and 0 station. My nurse called my doc to ask if we wanted to start pitocin or wait and see what my body did naturally, my doc wanted to start the pitocin just because my BP was still elevated at this point even with the epidural and pain relief. We started the pitocin around 830pm or so, and my water still hadnt broken at this point. The plan was for my doctor to come in at 930pm and break my water if it hadn't happened naturally at that point.

Fast forward to 945ish and my doc comes in to break my water. Weirdest feeling ever. She also put Baby J on one of the internal monitors because he kept coming off the external monitor. At that point I was 5cm, 90%, and still 0 station. My nurse helped me lay on my left side and we were going to try to nap since we were in for a long night. James had started dozing pretty quickly, and I started feeling contractions again. Crazy strong, very frequent, maybe about 1 minute apart or so. I was holding his hand and felt like I was going to break his fingers Everytime I had a contraction. I remember looking at the clock and it being around 1010 and thinking "okay if my nurse hasn't come in by 1015, I'll call her" because DAMN were those contractions painful.

Within a few minutes my nurse came in, I honestly don't know how many minutes it had been because I was busy breathing hah! She said she was going to have the doctor put in an internal contraction monitor as well because she wasn't sure that the external was super accurate. My doc comes in within a few mins, and goes to place the monitor and says "oh, oh, you're complete and we need to push now because he's practically crowning" (apparently all that pain and pressure was my body saying hey let's do this!)

Nothing was ready! We weren't planning on having a baby for another few hours so the birth cart wasn't even in the room. The nurse grabbed one really quick while my doc was putting on shoe covers, she had enough time to throw on the sterile gown and gloves before i felt like I needed to push. My nurse had barely had time to page the baby nurse!

I pushed 3x over that contraction. Definitely yelled fuck, but otherwise, I don't remember saying anything/making any noise at all. My nurse coached me how to push effectively and how to curl my body to help.

Second contraction, pushed 3 more times. The whole time James was holding my left foot and rubbing my shoulder. He was his usual quiet self, which I expect nothing else hah!

Third contraction I pushed 3 more times. At the end of the third one my doc told me to take a big breath and give one big push. So I did. And little dude was born at 1036pm!

I pushed for around 7 minutes total (per James) before our little one was born. I had to get stitches, but I don't even remember it happening. As soon as they put my son on my chest, nothing else mattered. I couldn't stop shaking, or crying. It was completely uncontrollable. I was so overwhelmed! I went from the thought of having a baby hours from now, to having a baby in my arms 7 minutes later! It happened so fast we didn't even have time to tell my mom that it was game time. The plan was to have her on FaceTime so she could help talk to me and support us even though she couldn't physically be there.

Baby J was a few minutes old and I asked James to call my mom on FaceTime. When she answered she immediately started crying once she saw the baby and heard him crying. I kept apologizing for not calling her, I felt so bad even though it's so silly! James told her I started pushing about 10 mins ago and had a baby so quickly we didn't even have time to think about anything else. Of course she wasn't upset at all.

Once I was stitched up, my nurse shut off the epidural and helped clean me up a bit. After she said she was going to step out, and give us time to ourselves with our little one, but to call if we needed her. I held my little boy and just stared at him. He was perfect! The only better thing than holding him myself, was seeing James hold him for the first time. Que crying all over again.

He was born on May 28th, 2020 at 1036pm, 6lbs 1oz, and 19 inches long. I didn't get my June baby, but he's absolute perfection and has our entire hearts. Our little one is turning 7 weeks on Thursday. I can't believe he's been here for 7 weeks already. Motherhood has been the hardest most rewarding thing I've ever done in my life.

[ohprettyweeper-fics]

The Last Bandito: Vulture Generation

Part Ten: Cracks in the Foundation

Summary: Josh dreams of Faylinn; Quinn prepares to receive an injection to cure the Heathen virus.  Word Count: 1835 Warnings: Blood, death, angst.  A/N: Book #2 of The Last Bandito series. Prompts are in bold; translations are from Google Translate.

Masterlist

He stared at the bodies on the ground, at the girl covered in blood. Her eyes narrowed as she struggled to stand up. 

“You’re late.”

As though the statement had taken the last of her energy, she fell back to the ground. Her body was limp and her eyes stared at nothing. The smell of blood, hers and that of countless others, filtered through the air — even as enticing as blood was to him, the smell was overpowering. 

So much blood. So much death. And, in the middle of all of it, was the woman who had taken up so much time in his dreams. Kneeling on the ground next to her, pulling her head into his lap, Josh said her name over and over — all in vain. 

She was gone. 

As the sun rose slowly over the jagged horizon of Trench, Josh shot up into a sitting position. He could still smell the blood that had smeared the edges of his most recent dream — nightmare, as it were. He looked around the tent, checking that everything was in its proper place, and that nothing seemed amiss in the camp. 

He picked up no evidence of chaos, but he still couldn’t rest any longer. Pulling his usual hoodie over his head and securing a yellow bandana around his neck. He stopped at the basin just outside the tent to splash water on his face; his skin chilled and prickled, but the effects of the dream lingered. 

Savea’s tent was right next to his, and Josh had only been seated next to the fire in the middle of camp before Savea joined him. He pressed his lips together and purposefully avoided acknowledging her presence. The dream was still too real, too concerning. He hated it but he didn’t want to talk about it, either. 

“Who’s Faylinn?” 

Her voice broke through the quiet of the camp. Josh tossed a random stick into the fire and continued to stare forward into the flame. Savea repeated her question, and Josh knew he couldn’t put her off forever. 

“Ildri’s cousin. I don’t know her very well — I only met her once or twice.”

Savea nodded, biting her lip. “But you were calling out her name in your sleep. I heard it from my tent. I’m surprised no one else did.”

Josh shrugged one shoulder. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You can talk to me, Josh. You rescued me from Dema and you’ve shown me so much since I came to Trench. But it doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you, too. You can talk me.”

He stood, threw another random bit of twig into the fire, and turned back to his own tent. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Citizens of New Dema are finding themselves torn twice over. After the recent exile of all non-human citizens, some found themselves questioning the loyalty of The Conference to those the group governs. Now, a cure for the Heathen virus has been presented — and it also being touted as a vaccine. A number of citizens, we’re told, have already applied to be among the first to receive the vaccine, though a significant number have their qualms about the timing of the discovery of the cure-slash-vaccine.”

The news anchor’s attractive face was replaced on the television screen with that of a man Quinn recognized as the owner of a shop on the west side of the town. 

“Seems like quite a coincidence to me, this medicine being ‘discovered’ so soon after the exile and the formation of the Bandito camp. I have no ill-will towards anyone with good intentions, both The Conference and the Banditos included.”

The camera returned to the anchor. “The entire report of this new medication, which has been dubbed The Vial by citizens, has not yet been released. Rumors of protests have been circulated on the grounds — on the belief, excuse me, that The Vial should not be administered until the report is released and citizens are made aware of what it in the serum. While not yet offered as a vaccine publicly, those seeking a cure —“

“You don’t need to be watching any propaganda about this,” Berit said quietly, turning away from the television set. She pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves then checked the IV drip supplying Quinn with extra fluids before her first dose of The Vial. “The doctor will be in with your first injection in a couple of minutes. Your fluids are looking good, your vitals are strong. Are you ready?”

Quinn drew in a deep breath. “I’ve been feeling stronger the last week. I’ve been coughing, but no blood. Are we sure I need this?”

Berit pulled off one of her gloves and put her hand on Quinn’s arm. “We don’t know enough about the virus and how it interacts with your genetics to know if the turn towards recovery will last. If you turn down the medication now, it may not be available to you in the future. They aren’t being lenient with this — there’s no back and forth. It’s now or never.”

Now or never. The words cycled through Quinn’s mind as the doctor came in, setting a large syringe full of a translucent red liquid on the metal tray next to Quinn’s bed. He listened carefully to Berit’s report of Quinn’s vitals and a brief review of her case. The doctor check Quinn’s pupil’s, looked down her throat and up her nose, listened to her heart and lungs, checked her reflexes, pressed on her abdomen … the whole time, Quinn couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the syringe on the tray. 

“All right, Quinn, I think we’re ready. Are you ready?”

Quinn met Berit’s eyes. The nurse gave her a small, subtle nod, though her eyes read desperation. Quinn took a deep breath. 

“Yes. I’m ready.”

In the middle of the afternoon, word of someone wandering Trench made its way to the Bandito camp. Ildri, Tyler, Josh, and Savea went to search out the runaway, but it was now nearing dark and they hadn’t even seen a trace of anyone. 

“It’s possible whoever it was turned back to New Dema or was dragged back to Old Dema, wherever they came from to begin with,” Ildri sighed. “We need to head back; the sun will be gone soon.”

Josh and Savea walked ahead of Tyler and Ildri. The latter pair walked in silence, although the tension between them seemed to have dissipated. Since Tyler’s return from the road to Old Dema, one of them had rarely been seen without the other. As though they had their own language, their own mental connection, oftentimes they could exchange a look and seem to know what the other was thinking. 

“The connection has been re-established, I see.” 

Savea gasped and tucked herself behind Josh, who stood steady where they had stopped and turned toward Keons. Tyler’s red eyes grew in intensity, and a low growl sounded from deep in his chest. A brief touch from Ildri quieted him, though his eyes maintained their bright red color. 

Ildri took a step towards Keons. “What do you want?”

“Only to see that everything is going to plan. Just as we designed.”

“Your design,” Ildri scoffed. “I told you, Keons. Leave Tyler out of this. Your mind games are not welcome here.”

Keons grinned behind his black, mesh veil. “We do not play games, dochka. We make the rules. Don’t forget that.”

“I don’t forget anything.”

Without a response, the Bishop was gone. Ildri let out a deep breath and turned back to Tyler. The foursome turned back toward the camp, though the easy silence between them was now filled with an anxious quiet. 

When they returned to the camp, Josh and Tyler made to join some others at the fire. Ildri excused herself to her tent but promised Tyler she would join them in a few minutes. 

“I just need a minute,” she told him quietly. 

Tyler nodded and reached to squeeze her hand before following Josh to the crowd around the fire. Ildri went to her tent and stood in front of the basin, splashing cold water on her face. This most recent visit from Keons had been so short, but it was impacting her more than some others had. 

“Ildri?”

She closed her eyes and let out a quiet breath, reaching for a cotton cloth to pat her face dry. “This isn’t a good time, Savea.”

The younger Heathen chewed on her bottom lip and wrung her hands together. “I know that, but I — who is Faylinn?”

Ildri crossed her arms over her chest. “My cousin. Why?”

“Does Josh know her?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but instead of asking question after question, can you tell me what’s going?”

Savea swallowed back tears. “He was calling her name in his sleep early this morning. I heard it from my tent, clearly. I asked him about it, but —”

Ildri held up a hand. “Listen to me. People are losing their lives. They’re being taken from everything the know — they’re being sent away from the place and the people that was supposed to keep them safe and protected. If there’s a jealousy issue between you and Josh, you need to talk to him about it.”

She pushed past the young Heathen, wincing against the cold wind outside of the tent and the harsh manner with which she had addressed Savea inside of the tent. 

Her blood boiled in her veins, heating her entire body from the inside out. The heartbeats of Berit and the doctor beat so loudly, she covered her ears and it still didn’t drown out the noise. The bloodlust was building within her; she didn’t have to see herself to know her irises had gone red. 

“Quinn! Breathe! Please!”

Berit’s pleas only served to anger the monster more. Somewhere from inside her mind, Quinn knew that she had to gain control before she hurt anyone. If declining The Vial was a questionable act, killing someone immediately after receiving an injection would certainly put her life in more danger. 

Have you tried controlling the monster?

Ildri’s words echoed over the noise of everything else. Allowing the dearg-due to control her every few months was something Quinn expected — until she had been able to control it the night she and Ildri had gone into Old Dema. She hadn’t expected the monster when The Vial infiltrated her blood, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t control it now. 

Within thirty seconds, Quinn was in control. Her fangs were still showing, her eyes were still red, but she was in control. 

“That,” she said, pointing to the syringe, on the floor, “is not what you think it is. You would do well to stop this now, before it affects anyone else.”

Quinn made quick work of grabbing her backpack and the things she had retrieved from her apartment before pulling the IV from her arm and rushing out of the hospital. 

Tags: @nonsenseverses​​ @tylersheavydirtysoul​​ @apurdyfulmind​​ @adversaryproject​​

[snarkwrites]

FFT: villainesses want heroes; ray palmer

Notes:

Okay look. It was fun to attempt writing a kind of morally gray / bad girl type. And it’s something I do wanna do again at some point.

Summary:

Ginger did all the wrong things for all the right reasons. And it nearly cost her family, a love and her actual life. Thanks to her sister Sara, she’s back on the Waverider and she’s recovering. When her memory returns, can she recover what she had with Ray? or is it too late?

Pairing:

Ray Palmer x Lance!OFC, Ginger

Warnings:

morally gray character, innuendo, mentions of temporary amnesia..

“You’ll do as I ask, Ginger.. Or your father and your sister Laurel? The real one? Well, they stay dead.”

The phone went dead and Ginger threw it, swearing as she practically paced a hole through the floor. From the doorway, her sister Sara spoke up.

“You’re the leak? You’re the reason Damien’s been a few steps ahead?”

That look of disappointment in her sister’s eyes had Ginger biting her lip and looking down, instantly ashamed of herself, despite Sara not really having any room to talk. “You don’t…”

“Don’t you dare tell me I won’t understand.” Sara was angry and hurt and stepping closer to the younger sister she thought she’d been bonding with.

Apparently, her baby sister was just using her as a means to an end. Sara stepped closer, glaring down at her and her sister swallowed hard, taking a few shaky breaths.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? I mean, color me curious. What’s so damn important that you’d throw all the good we’ve done.. That you’d throw your own sister.. Under the bus?”

“Damien promised me he’d bring back our dad and Laurel, okay? Look, you got years with them both. Mom, she… she whisked me away to Nebraska when I was still a baby. Do you think I liked growing up away from you guys? Do you think I wanted to deal with Mom always putting her teaching career over me and refusing to let me see our father or either of you?” Ginger snapped at her sister, pacing, winding her fingers through long blonde locks as she punched at the wall next to the door.

She was in over her head, she knew that now. Thing of it was, she was too little, too late. She clearly saw now that Damien had been using her from the start. Manipulating events that at any time could’ve gotten the team hurt or even killed. The only way out of the situation she’d gotten herself into was through it. And given the anger she saw in her sister’s eyes right now, asking for any kind of assistance to pull off what she had in mind was probably going to result in a brawl.

A throat cleared from the door and Ray stood there, staring at her in confusion. “You’re the leak? I thought..”

“Ray…”

Ray didn’t even bother sticking around, he turned and walked away, vanishing from Ginger’s sight and Ginger sank back into the chair, lightly beating her head against the back of it.

Yeah.. She was definitely going to have to go this one alone, it seemed. It’s what you deserve, Gin… her mind echoed as she stood and smoothed her shaking hands over the front of her favorite pair of jeans.

It dawned on her.. She had a particular advantage. Maybe if she acted quick.. She sprang up from the chair and made her way off the WaveRider….

And that was the absolute last thing she remembered, prior to waking up in the medic bay on the ship.

XXX

Everything fucking hurt. From the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t ache. The steady hum of the machines alerted her to the fact that something was.. Horribly wrong.

The platinum blond man stepped out, rubbed his hands together as he shook his head and chuckled. “I swear, I wish I knew what was so gosh darned enchanting about that idiot Palmer.. Not only did he manage to bewitch my own flesh and blood… But he got under the skin of one of my best assets.” the man tutted and shook his head, checking her vitals as he asked her calmly, “Do you still think shooting the serum directly into your neck was a good idea, Ginny? You’re such a smart girl, I’m almost disappointed to see you do something so foolish.”

“Look… I dunno who you are or what the fuck you’re talking about but… If you’re gonna kill me, make it quick, alright? It’s not like I got anything to live for.”

Damien eyed her, a brow raised at first. Then the look of confusion transformed into one of sheer joy. The memory erasing serum he’d been testing -and that she’d mistakenly grabbed when she was trying to steal the mock up of Mirakuru he had, it worked!

And it worked quite well.

Ginger felt that the guy was just dragging things out on purpose. She’d never really been a fan of someone who didn’t have the balls to get straight down to their intentions. Her mother always told her she got her mile wide stubborn streak and her strong sense of right and wrong from her father and that at times, it could be infuriating.

She managed to pry her wrists free and when the guy was puttering around his lab, she snuck up behind him, raising the only weapon she’d been able to find high above her head, every intention of braining him to death with it if it meant her making it out of this situation alive.

Her jaw dropped when he cleared his throat, lifted a finger and the object she held in her grasp fell to the floor with a noisy clank. He turned, staring her down. “If you’ll have a seat, I’m more than willing to explain everything… Including how you sought me out, desperate for dear old daddy to get one more chance at life… To have your whole family together again.. How you sold out your own sister for a chance to bring your dead one back.”

“You lying piece of shit!”

“Oh, but I’m telling the truth, darling.”

Ginger’s mouth opened and closed. While every fiber in her being wanted to believe the man was full of bullshit, there was this feeling deep down inside that insisted that no, he wasn’t.

And that thought blew her mind.

She went for the blunt object she’d been intending to use as a weapon again and Damien waved his hand, sending her crashing back into the room, a table toppling over on top of her. The table pinned her down, although by her own math, she should’ve easily been able to lift it.

The door burst open just as she started to black out all over again. She didn’t start coming to until she felt herself being scooped up.. The cologne.. Something about it was… familiar in a way.

She definitely knew whoever it was who was behind her rescue. She gripped hold of them, muttering the first name that came to her mind torn between consciousness and just giving in to the void again.

Ray sighed as he hurried down the hall, trying to locate Mick Rory to pass Ginger off for safety.

“Shh.. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m kinda like a cat. I tend to land on my…” she was starting to slip out again. Everything faded out and the next time she opened her eyes, she was somewhere entirely different. She almost wanted to say it was a hospital room… But something felt off about the whole thing.

The blonde woman who resembled her mother stepped towards her, a hand out and she tried to scoot as far away from her reach as possible. She was fighting against the drips and IV’s, hell bent on getting away and lucky she didn’t injure herself further. She stopped shy of ripping anything out because she’d always heard that doing that was never a good idea and she wasn’t keen on dying.

“Who the hell are all of you? Where the fuck am I?”

Sara caught her just as she managed to get a hand down to where her thick soled boots would’ve been normally and she spoke up. “Do you remember anything?”

“No… Wait… I remember a fight with a biker in an alley. Because he caught onto me hustling him in a game of pool..” Something about the memory didn’t feel right, but she wasn’t.. Sure about anything enough to know.

Sara glanced at Ray, tears stinging at her eyes. This was similar to the way her sister acted before they reconnected. Had her father lived -and been the one to raise Ginger, he would’ve definitely had his hands full, given some of their intel on her prior to choosing her to become a Legend.

Sara sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m Sara. Your sister.”

Ginger eyed her, wary. “I haven’t seen her since I was 4. How do I know you’re not lying? Mom told me Sara died…” Ginger trailed off, fidgeting.

“Mom believes that too. Nothin Dad tried tellin her would convince her otherwise.” Sara reached out and tilted her sister’s chin to make her meet her gaze. “Do you remember anything?” Sara tried again, hoping that maybe jogging her sister’s memory would free anything.

“Coming to Star City and visiting Dad’s grave..”

Ginger’s eyes settled on the lanky brunette male standing in the doorway and she nodded to him. “Getting shitfaced and waking up in a bed with that guy… Have you two… ya know? Because that tongue…” Ginger fanned herself, giving a giggle of delight at the way the guy blushed when every set of eyes in the room with him turned to fix on him at once. “In all seriousness.. He will totally rock your world.”

Ray’s face darkened and he cleared his throat.

Mick was quick to step between Ray and Sara, reminding her that the important thing here was to find out what Dahrk did to her kid sister while the guy had her. Ginger rubbed her head and grimaced as she felt dried blood and what felt to be a clumsy attempt at stitches.

“Well this is just peachy.” she mumbled as the others stepped out into the hallway. Sara immediately slapped Ray in the back of the head and Ray gave her a sheepish look.

“You… I can’t even right now.”

“Try being me.. She remembers our first night together.. But doesn’t remember anything else.. I get the feeling she might not take it well when she realizes just how serious we’d gotten before that night she left to go stupidly offer herself up to Damien.” Ray shook his head, swinging at a wall. “I still can’t believe she fucking did it.”

“She thought if she went and stole the device and serum herself, she’d be giving us an edge. She had all the passcodes to his compound, Ray. She’s never been afraid of anything. We both know this. Did you really think she’d sit back and just.. Let things go?”

“I wish she had.” Ray grumbled, taking a few deep breaths, staring intently into the room Ginger was currently recovering in. He’d spent months thinking he lost her too, that she’d died when they faced off against Damien a third or fourth time. And then they started to hear rumors about some badass new assassin. Apparently, she’d gotten on Damien’s bad side somehow, because the next thing they knew, Gideon was picking up a ping on Ginger.

Given that Sara had way more than enough time to calm down, to figure out the motive behind Ginger playing double agent, - a talk with her mother helped, and that in the months following Sara cooling down, she had ample amounts of time to settle into a pattern of blaming herself for her baby sister possibly dying, them going to try and rescue her and face Damien one final time was inevitable.

Ray hadn’t worried about anything beyond getting Ginger the fuck out of the compound. In fact, he’d kind of stepped up and really taken on leadership of the whole attempt.

Sara hadn’t been in the mindset to think clearly. To be honest, he hadn’t either, but he knew he wasn’t going to lose another woman he loved.

His hand rested against the glass as he watched Ginger like a hawk through the window. He couldn’t stay away, so while the others were talking, he made his way in quietly. Ginger’s eyes lit up at seeing him and she teased quietly, “Come to give me sweet dreams again, Dr. Feelgood?”

Ray stared at his hands. There was so much he wanted to say to her. Things he needed to say. But it all got trumped by the fact that he was just glad she was there and alive and able to say things to drive him crazy and make him blush.

“How’d you know?”

“Know what?” Ginger asked, moving to sit up, sort of snuggling against his side and leaning her head against his shoulder.

“I’m technically a doctor.. And that’s what you called me….”

“After that night when I woke up in your penthouse. I remember that much.” Ginger nodded, giving a frustrated sigh. The light bounced off of something on a chain around her neck, and curious, Ginger pulled the chain out of it’s hiding place beneath her favorite tee shirt. As soon as she saw the dog tags and read the name on them… And the simple engagement ring that was also on the chain, everything rushed back to her at once and she sighed, going quiet.

“Oh.”

Ray eyed her, eyed the necklace he knew she never took off. He swallowed hard at the sight of the engagement ring he’d gotten her as a ‘joke’ when they were stranded in 1975 together on her first mission with the team.

“You were more than just a one night stand to me and true to form, I completely fucked that up.. My sister, she… Why would any of you even bother coming for me after what I did?”

“Maybe sometimes, princess.. Maybe sometimes the good guys fall for the bad girls. Did you really think I was going to just leave you there?”

“Ray, I would’ve left me there, okay? I can’t believe I was so fuckin stupid. Damien was never gonna bring either of them back.. And I betrayed the only sister I have left.. And you, I-…” she trailed off, looking down at her lap. She was about to do something she hated doing and tried to av oid at all costs.

Something she hadn’t done since the night she came to Star City and spent an entire night sitting at her father’s graveside doing it. The fat tear made it’s trek down her face just as Ray tilted her chin to make her look at him.

“I get it. I didn’t at first. I wanted to hate you. I really wanted to hate myself… Especially after we thought.. Ginger, you’ve been gone almost a year now. We thought you died… I spent almost a year thinking that you died. Knowing I could’ve stopped you from leaving that night, but I was too disgusted by what you were doing to bother.”

He leaned in, cradling her cheek against his hand, wiping at her eyes with a tissue. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re back and I’m not… Nothing like that is ever going to happen to us again.”

Ginger swallowed hard. “It’s not too late?”

“When you really love someone, Ginger, it’s never too late to try and fix things. If that’s what you want.”

Ginger glanced down at the dog tags and the ring he’d given her in joking. She slipped the necklace from it’s place around her neck, unfastening it. Ray raised a brow, biting his lip as she slipped the ring off the ball chain and onto her finger.

“Does that answer your question, Dr. Palmer?”

He pulled her onto his lap and as they started to kiss, throats cleared from the doorway.

“For fucks sake, you two! Jesus, get a room.” Sara turned until they’d both finally caught on to not being in the room alone and could be bothered to pry themselves apart in the sense of public decency.

“You both done now?”

“Actually, as soon as I can get these stupid fucking drips out of me…”

“Don’t… Don’t you dare finish that, Ginger Louise Lance.” Sara groaned, laughing as she moved closer, making an attempt to hug her sister.

[benexolence]

Tense (M) pt.1

CEO!Park Jimin x Reader

Word count: 5.4k

Rating = M, F (it was hard not to put fluff in, i’m too soft for chimmy)

SUMMARY: You’ve been subtly teasing your stressed-out boyfriend over the past couple of weeks, and you push him a bit too far at a company dinner, making him want to show you what it’s like to be frustrated.

Warnings: dom!jimin, daddy kink, dirty talk, exhibitionism, degradation, slight-ish possessiveness (bruh IDK), fingering

A/N: There are two parts to this fic! This was originally gonna be a oneshot but it would’ve been MONSTER to post LMFAO but I’ll post pt.2 within the next 2 weeks! Stay tuned :-) ****PART 2 IS OFFICIALLY POSTED! LINK TO PART 2 IS IN MY MASTERLIST!

Jimin had been very tense for the past couple of weeks. Being the CEO of BigHit, there was already a lot riding on him. Recently, his company bought out another company, BT21 and although this transaction would be beneficial for the future of his company, it didn’t necessarily mean that his transition would be smooth. If anything, it was putting a lot of weight on his shoulders, trying to figure out which workers to lay off or what sectors to change entirely, through the means of endless meetings, soon became excruciating. There were so many things to be done, and there wasn’t enough time in the day to complete everything. The tight pressure started to build in his shoulders and his mind as the lack of sleep from early mornings and late nights as the weeks went on. Jimin swore that he began to feel his brain melting.

It didn’t help that he start to see his love less and less. The quality free-time he’d usually spend with you decreased dramatically, turning the salacious sleepovers nearly every weekend into occasional Facetime pillow-talks that would end quickly since he’d almost immediately shut his exhausted eyes once his head hit the soft pillow. He just missed you, so much. Not being able to see you was like trying to substitute ranch for chocolate in a cake and it just didn’t work with him.

At night. Jimin is a needy boy, so destitute that the dreamland that he briefly arrived in every night was scent and taste of the juices that would fall between your thighs as you scream for him to give you more. His mind was clouded with clips of your writhing body, all nice and sweet, just for him. Jimin swore that he’d wake up to your whimpers echoing throughout his bedroom, only to find that you’re not there but his hard-on was painfully present. You couldn’t leave his mind. His lust was overflowing, and he even tried jerking off with his non-dominant hand, nothing worked.

For you, on the other hand, things were going pretty decently. You didn’t have much to complain about; you just got a raise at work, all your old friends were back in town, things were going pretty well for you. So, it was a bit amusing for you to hear all of this happening. You missed him greatly, and you longed to see him, but you were thankfully distracted by the better things happening in your life. You were worried about your boyfriend, but it’s uncommon to hear him whine for you and you felt a bit a pride when he’d tell you about how much he and his dick missed you. So to add to your amusement, you’d send some inappropriate pictures along with detailed texts of how much you desired him. When you went out with your friends, you would take a picture of yourself in a scandalous dress to rile him up a bit for the night, only to take that dress off after the image was sent, then change into something that you were a bit more comfortable in, (without him knowing of course). When Jimin was provoked in such a way, it always ended in ground-breaking sex. You still loved the fact that Jimin was a compassionate lover, it’s just that you didn’t see that dominant side of him very often and sometimes, you needed him to be a little bit rough.

Tonight was the first night that you would see Jimin after such a long time. There was a company dinner to celebrate the end of this chaos, and it was a perfect time to see you. Jimin liked to think of your presence as a gift to himself, for working himself to the bone. Both of you and him were giggling like children all day because it’s been so long and the two of you would finally fill the gnawing hole that’s been heavy on the two hearts. You wanted this night to be perfect, so you spent hours just picking and choosing the color scheme for your outfit deciding to go with a simple and sophisticated approach. Although you wanted Jimin to be the happiest tonight, you felt a throbbing need for something rough as the little devil on your shoulders convinced you to egg him on a bit. You decided to keep the egging to a slight minimum, and you went for the little black dress with a simple set of jewelry and light makeup that gave you a natural look. The dress did wonders to accentuate your curves, and you had an inkling that Jimin might go mad when he sees your outfit. It was perfect for setting off his mood, in the direction you prefer.

Jimin felt that it was crucial that he’d pick you up tonight. It was vital for him to have at least five minutes of alone time with you in the car before you two spent the next few hours with a garden of people he didn’t really care for; he’d probably only be focusing on you anyway. He was also hoping to convince you to let him sleep over for the night, already packing his things for the night because the answer will always be some form of “yes.” Jimin felt that spending these hours with you would melt away all the weight that’s been straining his body. He didn’t care if he was between your thighs or laying by your side, he just wanted to spend some time with you.

Jimin threw his overnight-bag in the backseat of his car and texted you a quick “on my way sweetheart” before rushing himself over to your apartment, almost running a few red-lights because he couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t stop smiling; he was excited to see his girl after so many weeks.

It was the same way with you after you got his text, you practically had a face tattoo of a smile. You rushed to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror to make sure that you looked perfect. As you fixed yourself up in the few minutes you had left, memories of the times where Jimin left you breathless made you excited. Your cheeks became flushed with such crude thoughts led you to think of possible ideas to ensure your demise tonight.

You were pulled back to reality as you heard a knocking at your door. The excitement came back in seconds as you ran to the door and swung it open, to find Jimin looking at you with nothing but pure love. You were in awe by his choices for his appearance tonight. Jimin wore an all-black suit, without a tie, giving a bit of a casual feel. He wore a gold necklace, and he parted his hair so a bit of the center of his forehead being shown.

Both of you took a few seconds to accept the fact that both of you are together again before he quickly grabbed your arm so you’d fall into his arms. Jimin hugged you tightly, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, you would never come back. He buried his face into your neck, and you could feel him smiling.

“I’ve missed you so much” Jimin whispered softly into your neck, leading you to giggle as his breath tickled your skin.

“But I talked to you yesterday” You chuckled softly, thinking about the Facetime call that only lasted three minutes before Jimin started snoring.

“I fell asleep! How in the world does that count?” Jimin started to swing around, with you in his arms, “Did you not miss me? Not only a little bit?”

“Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter because you’re always asleep when I try to talk to you anyway.” You say with a sassy tone before escaping his grasp to turn around and walk further into your apartment, looking to grab your purse.

“Y/N, baby please” Jimin whined as he followed behind you. You could already tell that there was a pout on his face by the tone of his voice. You found your purse, and you started to look through the bag, making sure that you had everything you needed. Before you realize it, Jimin was standing right in front of you, slightly stomping his feet. “Baby, I’m sorry for falling asleep all the time, but that doesn’t mean you get to ignore me.”

Looking at his upset face, you realize that you definitely can’t be bratty right now. He’s too damn cute, and you couldn’t resist it, not after such a long time. You smile at him, “You’re lucky that I have the biggest soft spot for you. I’ll forgive you this time.” But your last few words are meaningless because you’ll always forgive him for anything, leading you to let out a chuckle.

Your laugh was cut short when Jimin suddenly cups the apples of your cheeks, looking at you with appreciation. “Seriously though, I am sorry. You don’t understand how hard it’s been for me, not being able to talk to you. I’ve missed you more than anything.”

Jimin never failed to make you feel loved. There was never a time where you felt unappreciated and unwanted by him because he always did everything in his power to make sure that those thoughts would never cross your mind. Although there has been a lack of presence in the past few weeks, there were no worries that arrived in your mind because he still tried to talk to you, even if his sleepiness won most of the time.

“It’s okay, Jimin. I know that you’ve been busy, so it’s alright. I’ve missed you too.” You spoke softly.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Jimin whispered before pulling you forward to kiss your forehead. He let go of your cheeks, only to slide his hands into yours. He pulled you towards the door, “Now, l wanna get there early so I can sit in the car and shit on the idiots that we’re gonna be near tonight.”

You laughed as the both of you left your apartment and set route to the restaurant.

The car ride was filled with nothing but laughter and joy as you both exchange memories that occurred over the past few weeks. Both you and Jimin felt absolute elation; nothing was better than being in the company of someone you love. Soon, both of you were parked outside of the restaurant, shit-talking about the coworkers that made his life an absolute nightmare over the past couple of weeks. Irritation started to seep into Jimin’s bones as the anger over their actions came to mind. You notice Jimin’s change of tone, and you felt the need to calm the fire that was growing in his mind. You moved your hand to give a calming rub on his bicep, “You don’t have to worry about it now. The past is the past, and now you can focus on the success that’s gonna be rolling your way.”

Jimin looked to your smiling face, but his eyes slowly followed the length of your dress, his pupils dilating in mixed emotions over how noticeable your legs were in the dress. Suddenly, his mind went through to all the frustration he felt with you during your absence; seeing you in such revealing attire, hearing about how much you need him, all the subtle teasing that you’ve been pulling over the past few weeks that would always leave him with an erection. All emotions came racing back to his mind and his cock, making him feel nothing but tense again. The current state of your naked legs started to tease him a bit, Why is she wearing that dress right now? To fucking spite me? God, in the very moment, he just wanted to fucking explode.

His ring-covered hand went straight for your thigh, squeezing the soft skin in a vice-grip. Your eyes went straight to his hand as you gasped at the cold feeling of his rings. You look up to Jimin’s face, only to find the irises of his eyes slowly disappearing to black, mixed with lust and vexation.

His voice comes out low when he initially speaks, “Y/N, that dress--” Jimin takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves from thinking illogically. It’s just a dress. There’s nothing to it. She isn’t trying to pull anything with me. “It looks stunning on you” Jimin plants a smile on his face as he squeezes his grip on your thigh a bit harder, leaving an imprint of his rings. Momentarily, he decided that your teasing would be a topic of discussion for later that evening, it would be such bad timing to discuss something like that right now.

Although you were taken back by the quick change in emotions that you just witnessed, it still didn’t stop your stomach from doing flips from his compliment, knowing that it’s genuine. But what lingered in your mind was the reason for the sudden emotional changes, reasons that you already knew. You could see the tension in his jaw as a vein comes to the surface of his neck, which just sent electricity straight downward. You spoke, “Thank you, Jimin.” It seems as if your plan is working, you had a reassuring thought about how the subtle hints work the best. All you wanted was for him to take you in the car at that moment, you didn’t necessarily want to wait any longer.

There were a few moments of silence before Jimin’s phone buzzed. He pulled his phone out to see one of his favorite colleagues texting him.

[6:03 pm] Kim Taehyung: I know you don’t want to be here, but that doesn’t mean you and Y/N can avoid the dinner by sitting in the car until it’s over.

Confused by Taehyung’s knowledge of his location, Jimin looked up from his phone and searched from outside the window, only to find that his colleague leaning against the car parked right next to him. Jimin got out of the car to greet him, “Thank god that you and Y/N at least here with me to get through this.”

Taehyung chuckled and gave Jimin a quick side hug, “I honestly don’t know how you and I got through this past quarter. I can’t wait to sit with you and see what you do as a consequence for everyone.”

Taehyung was the CFO of the company, but also a life-saver for Jimin for the past few years. Jimin and Taehyung had been very close friends since college, and it’s been an absolute relief for Jimin to have him in the company. Taehyung took more of an emphasis on finance rather than sales, unlike Jimin; which was helpful since there was no competition in success or jealousy in career advances between them. Either way, Taehyung, and Jimin climbing up the career ladder together, eventually landing executive positions in the same corporation.

You got out of the car as well and walk over to the two boys with a smile on your face. You were happy to see Taehyung. “Taehyung! How have you been? It’s been so long!” You gave him a quick hug, and as you let go, you notice Taehyung’s lingering gaze on your legs as he takes hold on both of your hands.

“I’ve been good, Y/N! I don’t think I need to ask you how you’ve been doing since you look lovely tonight.” Taehyung smiles with a toothy grin before letting go of your hands and looking at Jimin, “You gotta be careful Jimin. You might have to keep an eye on Y/N because you don’t wanna lose a girl like her so easily.” Taehyung was always a flirty guy, but he never meant any harm, of course, he just liked to tease Jimin a bit.

Usually, Jimin would joke around about how Taehyung would never end up with anyone but his assistant, Jungkook, but right now, it was not the time for Taehyung to even glance at his girlfriend’s figure for any more seconds. Jimin needed to keep himself control, he needed to stay calm. Jimin joked with a little strain in his voice as you and him starting walking towards the restaurant, “I don’t need to keep an eye on her when you have googly eyes for your assistant. Which by the way, I know you’ve been fucking, I saw the way he looks at your ass.”

“Jungkook looks at everyone’s butt! I saw him looking at your butt the other day! Either way, he’s a man-child, and I’m nurturing him for the real world.” Taehyung raised his voice while running behind the both of you, trying to deny the truth that he’s been trying to hide from everyone.

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever you say Tae,” You turn towards Taehyung and continued. “We’ll always love you. You don’t have to hide your love for him forever.” You chuckled as you watched Taehyung start yelling nonsense as to how he’s definitely not with Jungkook and how he definitely hasn’t seen him every night for the past three weeks.

Jimin felt a bit of relief when he heard Taehyung’s babbling and your various sayings of “it’s okay, don’t worry.” I’ll be okay. Things will be fine. He reassured himself before all the three of you entered the restaurant and started to greet coworkers.

Dinner was not fine, and things were not okay. For some fucking reason, all male eyes of Jimin’s coworkers were staring at your chest throughout the evening. Jimin swore that he saw his coworker wipe the drool off his chin from staring too long. Not only that, some damn waiter named Hoseok even started fucking flirting with you, right in front of Jimin. It seemed like every male-body who was in your presence eye-fucked you, even with Jimin’s eyes sending fire to anyone who looked lustfully towards your body. Jimin wanted to spank your ass and fuck you on the goddamn dinner table every passing moment, to show everything that you belong to him and only him.

For you, on the other hand, your plan was going smoothly. You noticed the slow transition of Jimin’s mind from neutral to sour. You saw him sending fiery stares straight ahead, losing himself in the flames of his imagination, and you couldn’t help but cheer happily in your mind. But obviously, you couldn’t display your joy to the world. You saw that he barely took a bite of his entree and you decided to act the part as the caring girlfriend for the time being. “Hey honey, is everything okay? You haven’t touched your food.”

Jimin took a deep breath before turning to you, wanting to answer your question with kindness, “Um, yeah baby. It’s alright. I’m just not that hungry right now.” He pulled a quick smile for you before moving his fiery eyes to his plate, slowing moving to eat his food on his plate.

You knew he needed a push, a slight nudge towards the fall that you so desperately needed to feel all over your body. So you decided to start a conversation with Taehyung. It seemed that the boy had a bit too much to drink and you knew that Taehyung is a lot more flirty when he’s tipsy. You spoke with a bit of prep in your voice to the buzzed man across from you, “How are you feeling tonight, Tae? It looks like you’re having a good time.”

Taehyung turned to you with a grin on his face and started to laugh, “Y/N, I always have a good time with you around.” He leaned in and continued to spoke, “Did I tell you that you look lovely tonight?”

You giggle before answering his question, “Yes you did, Tae. You don’t remember?” You reciprocated his actions and moved towards him, so it looks like you’re only focused on him.

“Well, scratch that, because you look fucking ravishing right now.” Taehyung’s baritone voice seemingly got lower than you expected.

“Taehyung!” You started to giggle, even more, exaggerating your actions, “You don’t mean that”

Taehyung leaned in even closer, “Oh darling,” His eyes looking at your body, leaving his eyes to stalk your chest. “I mean every word I’ll ever say to you.” His voice was husky, and it just leaks with danger. This is precisely what you needed. This is the push that Jimin needed.

And you were right because Jimin was fucking boiling with sheer anger. Taehyung called you “ravishing,” he fucking leaned into you, like you didn’t belong to him. And you were just sitting there, taking it. Not even acknowledging the fact that your boyfriend was sitting right next to you, watching the entire thing. Maybe you were doing this on purpose. Perhaps you actually have been fucking with him for the past few weeks. Either way, the only thing that mattered to Jimin is to show that you fucking belong to him.

Once again, you jumped in your seat as the coolness of Jimin’s rings touch gripped your thigh. You felt him squeeze your skin before his thumb starts rubbing gentle circles. You turned to him, and his eyes were trained entirely ahead, engaging a conversation with one of his coworkers. You leaned back into your seat, heavily distracted by the distance between his hand and your clothed core. You took a deep breath to relax before continuing your conversation with Taehyung, but how can you focus when his hand is subtly teasing you under the table?

“Tae, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” You spoke as your mind tried to force on the man ahead of you. But unfortunately for you, Jimin knew what you were doing so his hand decided to follow the direction of your body, sliding underneath your dress. He squeezed again, leading you to squirm slightly in your seat. You tried so hard to listen to Taehyung ramble on about how sober he is, but it felt like there was barely any oxygen in the room at the moment. You started to lean forward again, to look like you’re interested in what he has to say but as soon as you began to move, Jimin’s hand moved to your core, lightly rubbing you through your panties. You yelped in surprise, causing all eyes to move towards you.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jimin sounded so sincere, but he already knew your answer. He started rubbing you a bit harder, causing you to squirm even more in your seat. Your breaths started to shake as you realized how mortifying this situation was; everyone was staring while your boyfriend rubbed your clit in a public restaurant. But somehow, you felt exhilarated at such a display, leading to the coil to tighten in your stomach.

“Yeah, I’m f-fine.” You needed to keep your responses to a minimum. You couldn’t let anyone know the truth behind your dishonest words. You’re not fine. You’re fucking fantastic because Jimin has finally touched you, something you’ve been waiting for a long time.

“Are you sure? You sound a bit anxious.”  Jimin’s fingers moved your panties to the side. His middle finger slipped inside your folds, teasing your hole.

You knew if you opened your mouth, you would start whimpering, so you nodded your head towards Jimin and threw a weary smile on your face. You looked around to find that the eyes of his coworkers were off of you now. Jimin leaned in closer to your ear and spoke, “Baby, you better fucking speak up right now, or I wouldn’t touch you for another month.”

All you wanted to do is whine and let Jimin do sinful acts to your body, but you knew that this side of Jimin wouldn’t be tame unless you listen to his words. “Yes, I’m okay Jimin.” You whispered softly.

You heard Jimin sigh, and it sounded like he was frustrated with your answer. He impulsively pushed his middle finger inside, pumping it at a slow pace. Jimin moved again to your ear, “That’s not my name tonight. Tell me, baby, what’s my name?”

His fingers were going agonizingly slow, but since your body has been so unsatisfied for the past few weeks, the pressure seemed to double. You could barely answer his question without focusing on the sharp sparks that coursing throughout your body. You don’t call Jimin anything else besides loving pet names and his actual name. What could he possibly be asking for?

Before you could think about it any further, Jimin added another finger inside you. A small mewl crawled from your mouth as you leaned towards Jimin, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I-I don’t know.” The build of your impending orgasm was growing faster, leaving your body to be shaking by his side. You were trying so hard, but it’s just so hard when everything is turning you on.

Jimin curled his two fingers to your g-spot, leading you to whine into his dress shirt. Jimin chuckled, happy to see you withering for him so quickly. His voice was stern when he started whispering again, “It seems like you’ve been missing Daddy’s fingers, huh?”

Daddy? He’s never called himself that before. Jimin has never brought that kink up but how does it matter now when he sounds so fucking hot talking to you like that? His fingers start moving faster, and your legs start shaking. He’s curling his fingers with each thrust, and the burning-pleasure is leaving your mind blank. You gotta warn him of how your end is almost near, “D-Daddy, I’m close.”

“Awh baby, you’re close? You like it when Daddy finger-fucks you under the dinner table, with everyone around us?” His words are only bringing you closer to your end, and you were struggling to keep your composure.

“Y-Yes, Daddy” Your voice was shaking, and you look up to Jimin, only to see his eyes filled with nothing but black lust.

“Of course you do. How can you not? A slut like you love everything that’s done to them. Do you even know how dirty you are?” Such a name should irritate you but god, it was sending arousal to your core, and you find yourself whining for him.

My eyes immediately shut in pure paradise, and you started to squirm again when Jimin’s thumb landed back on your naked clit. Jimin’s lips glaze your ear, “Cum for me, right now.”

His tone of voice was deep and stern, which led you to lose control. Your hands quickly covered your face in order to conceal the moans that escaped your mouth as your orgasm sweeps through your body. Jimin continues to rub your swollen nub as you ride it out. You were trying to catch your breath as your face turned away from your hands to Jimin, only to find him smirking.

Suddenly, Jimin grabbed your hands and stood up from his seat, bring you up with him. “I apologize everyone, but it seems that Y/N isn’t feeling too well right now, so I think it’s time for us to take our leave. Y/N wants to stay, but I wouldn’t feel good if we did stay. I’ll see you all at work on Monday.” Jimin waved goodbye to his coworkers while you kept your head down, playing up the “sick” act correctly. You waved to everyone as well as both of you started walking towards the car.  As soon as both of you were outside of the restaurant, Jimin wrapped his arm around your waist, squeezed your ass, and let his hand rest at your hip. As you both walked to the car, you looked up to him. You could see that he was relieved to be done with that dinner and happy to go home with you. Both of you got to the car, and before Jimin could unlock the car, he interrupted by the sight of Taehyung running towards you.

“Y/N!” Taehyung stopped right in front of you and grabbed your hand, whipping you out of Jimin’s hands and in his direction. “Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t feeling well?” Taehyung murmured as he looked at your small hand in his large one.

“Oh, I didn’t want to worry you, or anyone.” You took your hand out of his and waved it in front of him for reassurance. “Don’t worry about it! I just need some sleep.” You smiled at him, and he leaned in closer to you, like at the dining table.

Taehyung grabbed your hand again, rubbing circles on the back of it before looking up to you. “Call me when you get home, alright? I wanna know that you’re okay.”

You were happy to have a friend like him in your friend, and your smile got brighter at that thought. “Of course! I’ll see you soon.”

The flirty side of him came back as he kissed the back of your hand before letting it go. “I’ll see you soon darling.” Taehyung had a goofy grin again and looked to Jimin, “I’ll see you on Monday man, don’t let your girl get sick or I’ll help her out instead.” He winked at you, and he started to laugh as he began to walk away.

Although you thought this was funny, Jimin did not at all. You only realize this when you saw the several veins in his neck pushing up to his skin. “I’ll see ya later.” He spoke through gritted teeth. You saw his fists tighten so hard that you felt he might actually break his bones. In the years that you’ve been dating Jimin, you’ve never seen him so angry. He unlocked the car and walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for you. He realized that you were frozen in place, so he started to speak in the sweetest tone he can muster up with the anger running through his veins, “Y/N, get in the fucking car right now, or things will get worse.”

You practically bolted to the car seat, and you felt the car shake as Jimin slammed your door shut. He walked over to the driver’s side and sat in the car. He repeated his actions, and he harshly closes his door before putting his hands on the wheel. He exhaled deeply and turned to you, “Tonight, you’re gonna listen to every word I say. Do you understand, sweetheart?” You nodded your head to him, analyzing the strain in his voice. He was frustrated, and you honestly did not expect this level of dominance. “Good girl.” He responded before turning on the car.

You look down to your hands, thinking about what could happen tonight and all the things Jimin might do to you. “Are we going home?” You asked politely, wanting to alleviate his irritation.

Your question had the opposite effect, causing his veins to strain more. His jaw clenched, and he slowly turned to you at a menacing pace, “Baby, did I say that you could talk?” You were about to open your mouth, but Jimin continued, “I don’t wanna hear another word out of your mouth. Got it?” You nodded your head and returned to the position that you were in previously. Jimin’s hand lingered on your thigh and squeezed it to get your attention. “Tell me a safeword.”

A safeword? There were a few moments of silence before you thought of a sinister idea. You thought to yourself, He was already angry, why not triggering him more? You had a sense of where this night will lead to, and you were happy with the results. But a part of you wanted to tease him a bit more.

Jimin spoke once more, “Have you thought of it yet? Tell me.”

You muster up all the confidence you had, and you began, “Yes I did. The safeword is Taehyung.”

You thought that Jimin was angry before, but you were fucked now. You could feel the tension in the air.

His nails dig into your thighs, close to breaking the skin. You could see the stream coming out nostrils as he looked at you with nothing but depravity. You swore that he growled when he spoke, “Okay.”

You were screwed for tonight, but in every perfect way, right?

[nyctospoilers]

The Power of Waking and how I believe it affects Sora, Young Xehanort, Luxu, the Master of Masters and destiny.

So I was GOING to say all this in an answer to an ask. But I decided to post it as it’s own so that I can cover more topics then the question itself. And then, I’ll go back to questions in my inbox and answer them with reference to this post.

—————————–—————————–

Sora and the Power of Waking

Before I say anything, I want to list off the rules of time travel stated by Young Xehanort in Dream Drop Distance

First, you must leave your body behind to do it.

Then, there must be a version of you waiting at the destination.

Upon arrival, you can only move forward as per the laws of time.

And you cannot rewrite the events that are destined to happen.

The Power of Waking has let Sora reverse time and change events that were fated to happen. This goes directly against the fourth rule. Young Xehanort has always been able to travel with his body intact, and that goes against the second rule. So how are these laws, these restrictions, able to be broken? I believe that the Power of Waking is a power that allows you to break the restrictions of time travel, and it is a power that Young Xehanort has used (or still uses) himself (and possibly forgets about when he returns to his own time to grow into Master Xehanort, as MX never mentions it once ever). Let’s see word for word how Young Xehanort describes the Power of Waking after Sora fights the Lich:

“It’s for traversing hearts to reach worlds, not for traversing worlds to reach hearts.”

Something we need to ask ourselves is- how does YX know this? Even Yen Sid describes the Power of Waking as simply that- the power to awaken people’s hearts. But YX clearly knows more about how it works and how it can affect other things.

Let’s take a look at each technique. “Traversing worlds to each hearts” is what Sora had just done before this conversation. He traverses the Stations of Awakening of worlds to reach his friends’ hearts and recovers them. That in turn, saves them from the destiny of “light expiring” like the prophecy states. I think it’s important to note that the worlds he arrives in may not actually be those worlds though, but rather something similar to say, the world revisits in The End of the World in KH1. I’ll expand more about KH1 in the next paragraph.

Now let’s take a took at “Traversing hearts to reach worlds”. In my opinion, this is like Sora opening a portal in Master Xehanort to reach Scala ad Caelum. But I don’t think that was actual Scala ad Caelum, but rather a memory or dream of it. Similar to Riku opening a portal in Sora to reach his memory/dream of Destiny Islands. [[ And I also think this is similar to another instance of KH1: Sora having a flashback to Kairi in Hollow Bastion with her grandmother. I recognized instantly from KH3 the Sora gliding through the star field sort of thing. I said “Hey this is like when he see’s Kairi’s memory in KH1!” and sure enough, later he does it and once again is joined by Kairi herself. My point here is, these two scenes of Sora gliding through that space in KH3, I believe is Nomura trying to hint at us that Sora traversed through Kairi’s heart to reach her memory/dream of Hollow Bastion in KH1. In other words, Sora’s been able to use the Power of Awakening since KH1 ]]

—————————–—————————–

The Master of Masters and Destiny

Before I said that the Power of Waking has let Sora change events that were fated to happen. Sora changed destiny, and supposedly there were repercussions to that. But why? Let’s look at what Kingdom Hearts defines destiny as. One of the best examples is Xehanort during his final speech in KH3:

“The World needs someone to stand up and lead. Someone strong, to stop the weak from polluting the World with their endless darkness. Someone to dictate their destiny.”

This connects to Xehanort’s past revelations in his reports:

Xehanort’s Report IV excerpt: And when Kingdom Hearts is complete, it is said the one who opens its door will bring about the creation of the Next World. Such a feat is above any human. Or, to put it a different way: whoever opens that door will be reborn as something far greater than human.

Xehanort’s Report VI excerpt: And, as stated before, opening this door arguably gives that person control over all worlds and all people.

Xehanort’s statements say that the person who opens Kingdom Hearts will give them supernatural powers, allowing them to oversee the World and it’s destiny.

Now tell me, who does that sound like to you?

I could be wrong, but at the moment I believe that long ago, the Master of Masters was the last person to open Kingdom Hearts, and since then has overseen destiny. This is backed up by various lines of KHX, Ava asking Luxu if this was all the Master’s “intentions” the whole time. In Luxu’s Observation excerpts, asking “Are these new events just another phase in the Master’s grand plan?”

Taking this into account, Sora defying destiny and changing it is seen differently. Sora isn’t defying some insentient force. Sora is defying a person- a person with a plan that they desire to come to fruition.

And I think that is the repercussion. I believe, that Sora won’t just fade away because it’s the law of the universe that if you disobey destiny too many times you’ll be punished. I think that when the MoM returns, he himself will punish Sora for defying his will. That is what Young Xehanort is playfully warning him about.

—————————–—————————–

Young Xehanort and Luxu

So what about Young Xehanort? He’s able to time travel with his body. He knows about the potential of the Power of Waking, and he warns Sora about repercussions [not to help Sora, but more to amuse himself], and not at all worried about himself.

I think Young Xehanort is purposely following the Master’s destiny rather than defying it like Sora. I think somehow, Young Xehanort has a piece of vital information that he forgets when he returns to his time. So there is something that Young Xehanort knows, that Master Xehanort does not. And I believe it is Luxu who tells him, possibly during the time that YX traveled with him during DDD.

I think for this, it’s good to refer back to Luxu’s Observation excerpts form KH3:

Observations excerpt 2 “Somewhere in this cyclical history of bequeathings, a chosen one will appear and reenact the Keyblade War. When this scapegoat arrives and takes my Keyblade in hand, that will be the time to take the stage and finish my role.”

Observations’s third excerpt is interesting to me, as it seems to be written at different points of time. Here is the entire excerpt. I will bold important words.

Observations excerpt 3 It seems this body, this name will be my last. The lives I have lived over the ages could fill volumes, but for now I must focus on what matters most.     The Keyblade has been successfully passed down, generation to generation, and it seems a Keyblade Master devoted to the darkness may finally arise. Until now, I have watched over the course of events from a distance. Perhaps the time has come to intervene. I need only play the role of a fool desirous of the Keyblade’s power. I will don the mask of his ally in order to keep watch over my Keyblade from close by.      The Gazing Eye: a Keyblade forged from the eye of the Master of Masters. He passed it to me, as I have to others, and through it he can see the future – all that will ever come to pass. Spanning the ages in body after body, life after life, my task has been to keep vigil over the Eye as it passes from hand to hand. It has been a long time. Longer than I can express.     But now at last the Keyblade War has begun, and Kingdom Hearts will open – a true and complete Kingdom Hearts, born of the clash between darkness and light. I will soon be reunited with my old companions, and in that moment my long vigil will reach its end. He will return…

Excerpt 3 starts off sounding like it’s written during BbS, when Braig meets Xehanort. But then it says the Keyblade War HAS begun. Perhaps Braig is only referring to when Terra, Ven, and Aqua are fighting in BbS’s ending. But I think Luxu knows better, I think he knows it’s the next battle at the Keyblade War that reunites him with his old companions.

I think this Observation was written around the time of Re:Coded’s secret ending, titled ‘Destiny’. That cutscene takes place during DDD, before Lea and the others wake up as somebodies again. However, the Braig we see is his BbS appearance, not his DDD appearance as Xigbar. So we know this Braig time traveled, and being accompanied by Young Xehanort, we can assume they traveled together (notice neither had to give up their hearts). I believe that is why Young Xehanort appears in Birth by Sleep as the Mysterious Figure, to visit Luxu during the time of BbS. And it is AFTER Young Xehanort’s visit in BbS is when ‘Destiny’ takes place.

Why do I say after and not before? Because in BbS Young Xehanort does not use a keyblade (We are given a keyblade when beating him, but it is noticeably different). In ‘Destiny’ Young Xehanort says him having MoM’s No Name is yet to be a reality. BUT, Young Xehanort DOES have a keyblade in DDD, which, like I said, takes place soon after ‘Destiny’. And not only that, his keyblade (notably also named No Name) in DDD is the one we recieve from him in BbS- but now has decorations similar to that of the MoM’s No Name- a goat head and the gazing eye. After ‘Destiny’ Luxu (as BbS Braig, not DDD Xigbar) gives Young Xehanort that keyblade.

THAT is when Luxu writes Observation 3. “Keyblade Master devoted to the darkness may finally arise.” Refers to Young Xehanort, even if he’s in modern times. “I need only play the role of a fool desirous of the Keyblade’s power.” Refers to the way he behaves in ‘Destiny’ and in BbS when he returns. And “But now at last the Keyblade War has begun” refers to the situation of all 12 darkness being assembled (think back to his line in Destiny when he says “The party’s already begun, huh?”).

This is what leads me to believe that whatever Young Xehanort learns that Master Xehanort does not, he was taught to it by Luxu. And what was Young Xehanort taught? We see in KH3 he now knows about the Power of Waking, he continuously teases Sora about his dark fate. I believe Luxu tells Young Xehanort about The Master of Masters and the role he gave him. Even if Luxu returns back to the time of BbS, YX remains with this new information until Sora defeats him near the end of KH3.

We MUST remember this however: Young Xehanort was still able to time travel to BbS in the first place as the mysterious figure. Which means there is an event during the times of Young Xehanort and Young Eraqus at Scala ad Caelum that sets all these events in motion, as Ansem the Seeker of Darkness did not make it so YX could time travel like fan speculation suggests. I believe all Ansem did was give YX the opportunity to cross worlds, leaving Destiny Islands and arrive in Scala ad Caelum.

We must also remember that Xigbar (not BbS Braig) says in DDD that he is already half Xehanort, with an emphasis on his golden eye. We never completely defeated Xigbar in KH3, and he still has his golden eye in KH3′s epilogue. So, Young Xehanort could very well be able to travel forward past KH3. If we find out that he for sure does, it will explain why YX knows so much about Sora’s tragic fate that he warns him about many times in KH3.

—————————–—————————–

The conclusion 

I practically spent all day writing this post. I understand that the Young Xehanort/Luxu part is by far the longest, and for that I apologize. I wrote the other two sections a couple times before in drafts (now deleted) so I already had a better idea on how to condense all that important information. I was realizing things about YX and Luxu while writing this, and that’s why those details seem much longer.

I have a headache now so I’m not really in the mood to properly close this off, I hope you’ll forgive me :’) but now, i WILL answer other asks about this. So if you want more, look at my tag #analysis 

[nyxtoxicate]

hello yearning: a'plyae mae.

Summary:

Jung Taekwoon, a fourth tier soccer player in the K3 division of Korea's football leagues, juggles the struggle of raising his nephew as well as pushing his career forward when he unconsciously commits an act which bestows a faerie of good fortune upon him. A problem; the faerie is very mischievous. Another problem; the faerie is also very, very attractive.

Rating- Mature.

artwork by @changbaegi​. used with permission.

Chapter 3: Virtuoso (or read on ao3)

There's a silvery-green sheen of light that seems to envelop the man lounging on Taekwoon’s furniture, and he blinks once -twice- to reassure himself that it was not a figment of his imagination. If he squints hard, really hard, it almost seems as though there is a glittering substance present within the sheen, falling like an iridescent curtain over the strange man’s head and down to the bare feet, crossed at the ankle, settled on the white tile floor. His white tile floor. The white tile floor that was the base of HIS kitchen where he ATE.

Taekwoon was still frozen in place, stuck in time as the other man stretches his arms over his head, apparently completely content to lounge in this position all night if need be, and Taekwoon bristled at that. Still, he couldn’t quite ignore the shiver that was running up his spine at the sight of the man, because -while he was certain they had never met before- there was an air of familiarity about him

(Oh, so you’re who I’ve been waiting for?)

He's just going to ignore that strange, otherworldly voice that popped into his head, thank you very much. Instead, what Taekwoon is going to do is he's going to grab the iron skillet on top of his stove and he's going to get some answers. As soon as he can move.

“Oh, right, Oopsy Daisies, you're stuck there until I explain the deal!” Comes the (throaty, rhythmic) insufferable voice of the man in the chair. “Frozen in time until you accept your fate,” he continues to drawl and the soft screeching of the chair’s protest as it is slowly pushed back, bottoms of its legs scraping against the floor, echoes through the tiny room. When the man stands, Taekwoon is disgruntled to find that the pair are nearly identical in height, meaning his above average stature wouldn't be aiding him this time around. That was just fine, though, because he was broader than this stranger from years spent training his body to reach the edge of its endurance and then some. But, he still wasn't able to move. He was trying to will his frame forward, and when that proved futile, his attempts became desperate enough that all Taekwoon wanted to be able to do was twitch his fingers.

All efforts were in vain, as it were. This man seemed to be telling Taekwoon the truth, and the only logical explanation for the phenomenon was that Taekwoon had been drugged. It most likely occurred when he had been searching the home earlier, his mind too preoccupied to notice any odd remnants of ill-meaning dust or liquid splashed along his walls. Or maybe it was the tap water in the sink he had rinsed his face in. That had to be it. Water, the original source for human vitality and the very basis of life as he knew it would be the thing that finally did Taekwoon in. Just the thought was enough to send him seething- if he had the ability to seethe, that was. Which he did not. Because it was as if someone had set a literal pause on him, feet as lead weighing him down to the floor but his body in a state of utter weightlessness. He might say this is what floating felt like if he was paying more attention to the unnatural sensation overtaking him and not on the long piece of yellowing parchment the other man seemed to have conjured from thin air which was now slowing unfurling to reveal bold, black lettering, cursive and slanting and looking very incredibly ancient. Like a prop from a bad history movie. Taekwoon felt like he was in a bad history movie.

The man clears his throat and Taekwoon’s eyes, surprisingly not dry, set to attention once again.

“Yadda, yadda, yadda, introduction to why I’m here, but you should know that already, blah blah blah, HERE WE GO.” A slender finger with nails unkempt and cracking at the edges, though not dirtied, rests pointedly on a section of text that Taekwoon can hardly see and definitely cannot decipher. “When the giall -that’s you- has committed an act of utter sanctity while not under dis-repose influence, shall be granted, for indefinite longevity, an Asparas of one of the following sects to be decided by the council of sects immediately following the act and with due haste so long as no unearthly entity deem is inefficient; i) Sylia, for acts of the kindred spirit ii) Iallea, for acts of the wandering flesh iii) Diamae, for acts in relation to salvation iv) Rutia, for acts that the Oke’trall will v) Nullea, for acts inconceivable by no other means than Thaumaturgy or Mysticism vi) Atua, to grant safe passage into wosh regions.”

Taekwoon is at a complete loss, the words tumbling from the man’s mouth being a language he couldn’t interpret. He was catching some Korean words jumbled in with a lot of jargon and then something that sounded almost Celtic. He would very much like for this man to leave.

The man only whistles through his teeth, smiling brightly up at Taekwoon. His eyes crinkle at the edges and Taekwoon tries not to think about how nice it looks because this was not the right time to be ogling.

“You really did something pretty nice to have me assigned to you!” The stranger sing-songs, seeming extremely pleased with himself. “I’m from the Diamae sect, but your case could have been between the Diamae or the Sylia sects which is why it took a lot longer for me to finally get to you. They said something about a kid and a cliff, but that’s really all I heard before I got too curious and decided to just come and see you even if the entire meeting hadn’t exactly adjourned, but you wouldn’t even give the courtesy of greeting me! You just locked that cute little kid up in that room and then came out with a bat! That wasn’t a very nice thing to do at all, you know. Especially since I’m basically going to be living with you from now on and all that.”

Was this some kind of a fever dream? It had to be. Any moment, Taekwoon would be waking up after being shaken to consciousness abruptly by his nephew who would be chastising Taekwoon for not waking up early enough to take him to school on time and Taekwoon would eventually forget all about this crazy situation playing out as he blissfully went out the rest of his life in comfortable repetition. He might be able to recall the dream when he woke up, but it would soon fade away until the remnants were nothing but forgotten glimpses into a world belonging to his imagination. If Taekwoon could move, he would pinch himself.

He still couldn’t move though, and that was really starting to get to him.

“Aye, we might not have gotten off on the right note, but I’m sure we’ll be able to get along just fine once this is all cleared up. Anyway, you have to accept the acquirement of Asparas (1) amae before we can get the rest of the details sorted out. It’s also kind of mandatory for you because if you don’t accept then it’s going to make a lot of really powerful people preeeeettyyy pissed,” rambled the man in his rapid-fire manner of speech. Taekwoon could hardly keep up, still reeling, but it seemed that it was unnecessary for him to be aware of the goings on because some otherworldly force was tipping his head forward and then back. A nod. He had just accepted whatever the Hell was being given to him.

The man claps his hands together, overjoyed, before snapping his fingers and the action unbinds Taekwoon from whatever chains were keeping him in place. He has to test out his newfound freedom by first curling his wrists and clenching his fists to ensure that his blood was in proper circulation throughout his body. It was, and Taekwoon geared himself to give out a punch that would have the other man sprawled on the floor in seconds, but then-

"A'plyae mae. A'llemenia mae Kalan . But you can call me Jaehwan while we’re here. It’ll make me fit in better,” there was a hand being extended in Taekwoon’s direction, one with long and slender fingers adorned by patterned wooden rings and interwoven with what he could only assume to be moss and petals. The look that he was being given was one of (adoration?) fondness by the man- Jaehwan- and Taekwoon thought that maybe this wouldn’t be the best time considering that if he didn’t try to figure out what had just happened, he might me “pissing off a lot of really powerful people” and that didn’t sound good at all if they were anything like the guy that kept magically appearing in his home. Taekwoon takes the man’s hand and tentatively shakes it.

Now that he’s stepped closer, the football player can see that there are intricate lines running up the stranger’s flesh, dancing, even as he stood still, over the skin like veins but a milky hue in colour. So very strange. Taekwoon can also see the violet bags under brown eyes (or were they green?) indicating that this man was tired even through the cheerful facade that was being put on. If Taekwoon didn’t know better, he might say that the cheeriness was an act. But, what really struck him was the blond locks set atop the man’s head. They were so yellow in shade that Taekwoon was reminded of sunflowers, and at first he thought it might be dyed that way were it not for the consistent colour. He had had his own hair dyed once, and he knew that there were some things that artificial colour could not achieve.

“Why are you here?” He manages to ask without stuttering, his eyes now drawn to the slightly sunken cheeks that sit atop a prominent jawline.

Jaehwan’s smile falters for a moment before he releases Taekwoon from the embrace and squares his shoulders before quickly dropping into a bow at the waist. He’s back up so fast that Taekwoon thought he would have missed the action if he had blinked and surely Jaehwan’s head would be swimming from the disturbance to his equilibrium? But, there seems to be no such inhibition, and Jaehwan’s voice sounds without any hesitation.

“I’m your personal angel! Well, not angel. I’m an asparas, but they basically sound the same, so does it really matter?” Taekwoon thought that, yes, it did really matter. “And the reason I’m here is because you committed an act that was out of selflessness for that boy down at the… Where was it? Some marine place? I think that’s what it was. I wasn’t really paying attention, I just went where they sent me to go, and that was here!” Damn, this guy looked really proud of himself.

“But…” Taekwoon just thought he had done what any other normal person with a moral compass would have done. Besides, it had been an accident; it wasn’t like he willingly went out of his way to save the kid, he was just the one who happened to be standing there when it happened. It just seemed way to circumstantial for any of this to be substantial.

It was like Jaehwan could read his mind, because the asparas was clasping his hands behind his back and looking humbled, and his voice was lowering to a much quieter tone as he spoke.

“Really, I’m only supposed to be bestowing good fortune upon you right now because what you did wasn’t, what do you call it? Totally heroic? But, it was still a really good thing to do, and everyone at the council has to think about that before they send one of us over here to be around the humans and stuff.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.”

“Just think about it like you have your very own personal lucky charm now.”

Taekwoon didn’t really believe in luck. It was hard work and perseverance that had gotten him to where he was, so what did he need this for? Slowly, he makes a grab for one of the chairs at the table, slinking into the cushion-covered wooden seat and resting his chin in his hands as he tried to mull over the new information. He could be crazy. This could be a fever- dream from some bad food he had eaten earlier in the day, because if you asked him, that tteokbeokki from the street vendor in town earlier had tasted a bit off to him. He could also be trying to fill the void of loneliness that was in his heart whenever Minyul wasn’t around, but even that couldn’t really explain what was going on because he should only be experiencing this phenomena when his nephew wasn’t around, and he had heard Jaehwan’s voice in the past when he thought there was an intruder.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he can hear said voice saying, and a pair of bare feet appear in Taekwoon’s peripheral vision underneath the shadow of his fingers. When he looks up, he can see an impish grin. “There’s no way that this could be real, right? I come in here claiming to be some sort of FaeFolk and making you sign some agreement that says I’m going to be here a while? It does sound pretty freaky, but I promise, you’ll barely know I’m here! I can even babysit! Kids love me. Check this out!”

And before Taekwoon can protest, Jaehwan is lifting his hands. In one of his hands, his fingers furl toward his palm but the other hand acts as a stabilizer underneath it in a completely flat position. Jaehwan takes a long breath, focusing intently on one spot just beyond the point of Taekwoon’s shoulder, and then his eyes glaze over as if he is staring into nothingness. Taekwoon waits for something to happen. He waits a minute. And then two. But, then he realizes that there is no motion to Jaehwan’s shoulders that would indicate an intake of breath. The football player wonders if Jaehwan is frozen just like he was and if this would be a good time to try and maneuver the body out of the home while he could, but then he sees it.

The foggy mist begins to collect around the man’s mouth, and Taekwoon watches in horror, sinking into the back of the seat, as the mist clouds just before Jaehwan’s head, morphing in shape like something alive and twisting in the air as though writhing in agony. The same shimmering sheen is present through the mist and it glitters in the air until something… Twinkles? There is something most definitely twinkling in the center of the vapor and disturbing the area around it as it grows in size and brightness. Taekwoon can barely see Jaehwan’s face through the smoggy substance because it is darkening to a deep purple even as the orb becomes brighter and brighter.

Taekwoon finally has to shield is eyes, but when the light dims and he can turn to see what has become of the bizarre scene, the Fae is half- enclosing a sparkling purple tourmaline in his hand and grinning an illustrious grin. The space around him should be empty, but lilac flecks glint in coruscation in the air, teasing and enveloping the asparas in a nebula of placidity.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Taekwoon hadn’t realized his jaw dropped.

⋯ ◯ ⋯⋯

Excerpt From The Third Work of Han Gyeon (1625)

To be understood as a translation into modern speak of the 20th century. Translation as approved by professors Choi Yongmin and Kim Soyee of Korea University’s Linguistics Department and the International Circle of Korean Linguistics.

Good Fortune bestow the group of Seven, for seven be one of the most magykal of the numbers; no doubt to be reasoned by those we were seeking that these seven were only of the most capable of men to make this journey. For, even though the legs we were to trudge on ached with a fury and e’en if our feet be waterlogged and mud- soaked, we seven did not falter in our task of bestowing the water upon the grounds of the land. Our entry to the place of wonder be granted only from our prowess, and only when granted access through the iridescent gloss that separates the holier world from that of Mankind did we allow for rest. I fear that the first few moments we spent were to set at ease our tired bodies and souls and to mourn for the loss of the good fellows we did leave behind, but we would soon to be reunited; for their Sakes rather than ours. Only by following the streams, the gurgle of the brooks and distant roar of rushing water, were we to come upon this place, nestled in the hills and secret from most but those who know the path to trudge. Here, the spectrum is like nothing that can be sought in the realm of Man, in a place where even the air dances with a mingling of vibrant hue and our guide partakes of the scenery with a satisfaction us seven have come to know, for surely this place will leave us with such longing once our presence had become unwanted. Soon as we are relinquished from this place, it would haunt our hearts until our very last breaths, but we were not to know that until the years of despairing were set upon. In that instant, the brief period of time that passed between myself gathering my strength before taking in the fictitious around me, we would be surrounded. Not a menacing demeanor, nor one of manic, ominous threat, but one that had three of our group whispering in hushed murmurs to themselves. Their eyes would flicker about, though in fascination or fright it cannot be known; all that is for certain is that we were under a watchful gaze while amongst the whimsicality of the unknown, and so would the piercing gazes remain on our backs until we set off once again in search of the meeting place. “Be sure to bring another,” our guide suggested from his place to the stream nearest to us, because water seemed to flow in wavering and winding currents up the hills, cupping his hands in demonstration to us as he fills his palms of the clear liquids of the realm. We were all to follow suit, not to forget ourselves in bewilderment and there were only a few who needed to scramble. The way that we were to go was one flanked on both sides by trees whose branches were heavy with ripening fruit or flowering blossoms even while the floor of this forest, for surely this was still woodland although the thicket was that of pinks and oranges whose bark was littered with fluttering insects. The overhang of twigs offered cool shade against the beating sun, cooling the grass and moss of the woods. There were flowing tides here as well, following the path and intersecting at times, but never crossing over the areas of shade we were subject to. It was something akin to an arch, harmonious. A being of less caliber may seek to lay a hand upon the efflorescence as if in a lovers’ caress, but we were of good and clever men and we followed our guide staunchly so as to ne’er lose sight of the trail we were to take. Even if we were welcomed here now, the men were of unspoken agreement that wandering was only in a Fool’s agenda. Every so often, a shadow would cross the peripheral of my vision, flitting from sapling to timber but never back, always following. I would never turn my head to meet the kindred spirit; it would have been unwise. Instead, when the sun must have reached high noon, our guide instructs us to sit. The wind began to still around us, no longer buffering against the cloth of our cloaks nor whispering through the trees in its song, and so we sat side- by- side on the trail, the length of us spanning just the necessary amount. We would wait until They were to greet us. We would offer our gift to them, one of tenacity and fearlessness and diligence, and then the meeting would commence. Out of the corner of my eye, I remember the shadow sitting down on par with us as well. Faintly, falco naumanni calls.

⋯ ◯ ⋯⋯

“How did you do that?” The football player blurts out once he’s found his voice, the pounding of his heart thundering in his ears. There was no possible way that no trickery was involved. Jaehwan was an illusionist, most likely, and had probably set up lights around the apartment to make the elaborate scheme seem like magic. This was the only possible explanation that Taekwoon could think of, because he was a very logical man and nothing that was happening was happening with any practicality. That, or he was losing his mind.

“See? That’s why kids like me! Even Minyul liked it, and I only did some small stuff.” Without a care, Jaehwan tosses the gem behind him and it clatters against the floor before resting still with a final deep thud where it would stay nestled in the carpet of a rug. Taekwoon followed the action with his eyes, but could hardly process it.

Jaehwan was suddenly very close, and Taekwoon visibly startled in his chair. He didn’t like the way that this man could move like that, soundlessly and so quickly that it was unnerving. Jaehwan’s eyes were quite large as they stared reproachfully into Taekwoon’s own, his arms descending so that the Fae’s hands could grip at the arms of the chair on either side of Taekwoon’s lax body. He was leaning in so close that Taekwoon thought he could scent the faint smell of salty sea water rolling off of him, and that did nothing more than pique his curiosity and send his stomach into a flurry of action. All at once, he felt exhausted and sick, and Taekwoon’s eyes fluttered closed at the wave of nausea that was slowly overtaking him. This didn’t seem to disturb Jaehwan, nor did the faint groan of displeasure that sounded from the Korean man sitting in the chair. Instead, he leaned closer, the aroma growing in strength until Taekwoon was certain that he was standing seaside. If he tried to focus on the darkness behind his eyes and escape into that solitude, images of flotsam and jetsam infested his thoughts until he was certain that he was floating among the waves of the ocean. His palms felt sticky and clammy at his sides before they clutched at the cushion beneath him in an attempt to return to reality, but he could have been a man drowning for all that Taekwoon could do to save himself.

As quickly as the phenomenon started, it ceased. Taekwoon drew in a long gulp of air to steady himself and grasp back into the world that should be around him. He was in his kitchen. He was sitting down. And Jaehwan was still much too close.

“I don’t just do party tricks,” the asparas hums in a condescending tone while something dangerous lurks in the flash of his eyes. It dawns on Taekwoon immediately that Jaehwan had been the cause of the overpowering experience, and that revelation was enough to have him scared. Taekwoon was frightened that this monstrosity of a creature was in his home, and he was frightened that this being was now wont to be around him. The goosebumps erupting on the flesh of his legs, arms and stomach were a clear indication of his emotion. Still, the level stare kept Taekwoon locked in place until the most that he could do was breathe and keep eye contact and pray to whatever deity had cursed him that they would relinquish the contract he was a part of and give him back the previous life that now felt so far away. ( It was funny how time worked like that. Just a few hours earlier, Taekwoon was hoping for some company, and here it was, but not in the way that he expected it. )

Jaehwan pulls away after another moment, the silence broken by a chuckle and then it’s as though a switch has been flicked because the asparas is turning on his heel with arms extended toward the ceiling of the apartment in a show of sheer joy. After a short stretch, Jaehwan lifts himself up onto the counter of the kitchen under which a set of cupboard sit, swinging his bare feet out toward Taekwoon at the table. Taekwoon wasn’t a religious man, but if the Devil were real, surely He was in his home in that instant.

“I don’t usually take up this much space, so this is kind of weird to me. Plus, this human body just feels so… Long? No, that’s not the word. Lanky. It feels lanky,” Jaehwan almost pouts, his bottom lip curling out just slightly in a way that should be endearing but that Taekwoon could only think of as being heinous. “And the beds here are so weird! How can you sleep on something like that? The pillows here aren’t even stuffed with feathers like they should be. That’s what they told us, you know. That the human world was full of all these weird things and that you guys use animals for clothes and stuff.”

Jaehwan must really like the sound of his own voice is the conclusion that Taekwoon is drawing, and the football player begins to ascend from his place of refuge to tentatively move back a hairsbreadth towards the doorway leading out into the hallway.

“You could stay somewhere else?” He suggests in a small voice and then immediately internally chastises himself. Taekwoon’s may have a naturally quiet way of speech, but it wasn’t going to be of use now when he should be authoritative enough to buy time to think of a means to escape. It was that, or somehow undo the deal he was coerced into, because he was going to be taking anything that Jaehwan told him previously into careful consideration.

“Oh, no, no. I… I can’t really. Once one of us FaeFolk are tied to a human, we’re basically bonded. It means I should probably masquerade as your bodyguard or something. Oooh! That would be cool! You could act like you made a mafia boss really angry and that you had to hire protection just like in those movies!” Jaehwan suggests, elated at the idea and Taekwoon didn’t pause to wonder how the asparas even knew what the mafia was if he didn’t even know that pillows were rarely stuffed with feathers anymore. Another thought does strike him, though.

“You said… That they told you what here was like,” he starts, not wanting to picture who ‘they’ were, “does that mean you haven’t been here before?”

“Nope!” Jaehwan shakes his head, crossing his arms in an x over his chest. “Not even once until I got assigned to you. It’s really weird here. You humans don’t even have the nocturna lumos, and that was my favourite part of back home. I mean, you can still see the stars and stuff - I sort of spent the last few nights on a few roofs here- but it really isn’t all that spectacular.”

“Then why send you here in the first place if your home is so much better?” Taekwoon snaps with some regret. He was finding it a struggle just to stand now when his body was weighing itself down so heavily from tiredness.

“Because, it’s our duty to serve the good.” The vague explanation sounds like one that would be given to a child, as if Taekwoon couldn’t understand the full situation so there was no point in telling him. That was irritating, and Taekwoon grinds his teeth together. Briefly, his gaze locks on the bright green numbers of the timer on the microwave set against the wall beside Jaehwan’s head and is unhappy to note that it’s nearing midnight.

“Where do you plan on staying tonight, then?” He resigns himself to asking the man lounging on his counter-top. Jaehwan’s head cocks to the side, lips pursing before he shrugs his shoulders and hops down from his position to land on his feet with all of the grace of an Olympic diver.

“I don’t really wanna sleep tonight. Have you got any movies?”

Taekwoon’s eye twitches but he nods.

“Oh, good, ‘cause I don’t really like it when it gets really dark, so I can just stay in that room with the Big Screen and watch some of those until you wake up. You have those funny ones, right?”

“Comedies?” The only comedies Taekwoon owned were animated because of his nephew and even he could barely get through one of them without feeling as though his brain were leaking through his ears from the sheer stupidity of the absurd storylines. ( He had no desire to find out how a talking, dancing pickle was making his way through life in a cucumber world was all he was getting at. )

Jaehwan only smiles widely at that, and the sight is enough to make Taekwoon’s jaw ache. How could a person’s mouth stretch so obscenely? And in such a square shape? But Taekwoon doesn’t have any more time to mull it over because Jaehwan is moving in his lightning fast way again and tugging on the long sleeve of the shirt the football player is wearing to pull him into the living room that housed the television Jaehwan fondly called the Big Screen. There was no way that Taekwoon was going to be getting away from him, it seemed.

“You’re not going to stay and watch one with me?” Comes the inquiry from the man who had set himself up on Taekwoon’s couch, tucked inside a blanket that Taekwoon was uncertain of where he had procured it from, while Minyul’s uncle abandoned all hope and began to set up the proper configuration for DVDs on the television.

He shakes his head, bending down to insert a disk into the drive before pressing play on the controller in his hand and gearing himself for the loud burst of song that would soon bellow from the speakers. He sets a volume he hopes that his neighbours won’t mind and leaves the remote on the small wooden table in the center of the room. If Jaehwan wanted to use it, he could figure it out himself, Taekwoon reasoned.

“When this one stops just click on the ‘Eject’ button and the disk will come out, then you can put in a different one,” Taekwoon explains to the dejected man on his couch. He doesn’t spare Jaehwan another glance until his legs guide him through the archway that will lead him to the hall. That’s when he hears the faint call.

“What?” He turns in exasperation, rubbing at one of his eyes to attempt to relieve himself of a little bit of the drowsiness screaming at him to sleep.

“Allo’nae. Goodnight,” Jaehwan’s voice sounds in muffled manner from the cocoon of blankets, and Taekwoon can see in the dim light from the television that the Fae had angled himself towards the door to watch as Taekwoon left.

“Oh. Goodnight,” he replies, and that seems to satisfy Jaehwan because his gaze returns to the screen and Taekwoon hears no more from him for the rest of the night.

It’s only when Taekwoon is tucked into his own bed with the blankets pulled over his head and the low din of the television can be heard even through the thick padding of his door that he thinks the familiarity in Jaehwan’s face could be placed. His clothes didn’t give him away, because even Taekwoon had noticed that, save for his lack of shoes, the Fae had been dressed, well, human-like. He had been wearing black denim jeans, for Pete’s sake. No, it had to be something else.

His active mind plagued him until somewhere an hour or so later, when Taekwoon was in the glorious and tranquil state between sleep and wake, he placed Jaehwan’s face. It was the one he thought he had seen etched into the trees in Hallyeohaesang National Park.

[charlottedabookworm]

hamelin-born said:                                                                                                                            Nyx: *ruminates* I was actually pretty surprised when Bahumut didn’t recognize me and kill me when I entered the Kingsglaive.                                                                                                                                                   Nyx: Dad’s line of Lucis Caelum’s diverged from yours about two thousand years ago, and Bahumut fucking /hates/ Dad.                                                                                                                                                       And oh yes, Nyx’s explanation to Regis et al would be a thing of /beauty/. And hilarity, and he tries to EXPLAIN.                                                                                                                                                  …I am relatively sure that Nyx would wake up in the hospital one evening to find his father standing over him, /glaring/.                                                                                                                                            Ardyn would be proud of his son’s deviousness if he wasn’t SO PISSED OFF at the sheer stupidity of Nyx /weaponizing/ Bahumut’s MURDER. 

@hamelin-born

This is your fault. I got all rambly over this again, so have a response. That got sorta long so it’s under a cut

Nyx falls. He’s injured and he’s tired and he’s out of magic. This time, when Bahamut swings a blade, Nyx doesn’t move. Everyone expects to have to watch him die – they cannot stand against an Astral, let alone the Draconian – after he has just saved all of their lives, has just saved the entirety of Lucis and dealt Niflheim a vital blow at his own cost. But, at the last second, with the blade literally centimetres from Nyx’s skin – Ramuh interferes and catches the blade, while protecting Nyx from any further blows. They do not come – because even Bahamut would not directly oppose Ramuh – but the Fulgurian does not leave.

Not until Libertus – one of the few present who knows the entirety of Nyx’s heritage and is used to Nyx doing stupid shit, and so does not need as much time to recover as everyone else – moves to pick up Nyx, giving Ramuh a nod of respect and deference. (All the Galahdians bow their heads to the Stormlord but no more – the Lucians throw a fit over their ‘lack’ of respect but the Galahdians don’t care. They respect their patron differently. The bowed head is more for saving one of their own).

Lib promptly starts towards the nearest hospital – mostly because of the magic exhaustion that Nyx has, but he also has a bunch of other wounds.

He gets about 100m before everyone else snaps out of it. They rush Nyx to the hospital in the Citadel and try to grill Libertus for what he knows but he refuses to say anything – just that it’s Nyx’s story to tell.

So they wait. Everyone goes back to work – especially the glaive and the Crownsguard – but the Galahdians, especially the glaives, set up a rotating watch on Nyx so someone is always there and Regis and Clarus and Cor visit regularly.

It takes Nyx two days to wake up. Most of that is the magic exhaustion – the cuts he had were mostly superficial, only a few requiring stitches, and while he was bruised af his worse injuries where the muscle strain from over-warping. Lib and Crowe are there, and they send for the King and a doctor before spending the next half hour berating him on his stupidity and telling him that Selena is on her way. The doctor tells him that he’s mostly fine and then he’s left alone with Regis et al.

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

“So. I assume you have questions.” Because Regis, Clarus, and Cor are standing in his hospital room and looking at him as though he’s a mystery they can’t wait to solve. And Nyx, well. Nyx is as sore as fuck, and he is tired in a way that he hasn’t been since he was just starting to learn to use magic, but he’s alive. He hadn’t expected to wake up – had known when he’d made the choice that it would lead to his death. Ramuh saving him? What not something that he’d considered. He’s grateful. He is. Despite what everyone seems to think, he doesn’t actually want to die – he likes living. But he’s really not looking forward to this. Especially since he had never expected to have to deal with this – had always expected to die when it came out that he was his father’s son. But he has no choice. Not when it’s his king and his friend that it asking, someone that he doesn’t want to lie to. To his surprise, it’s Clarus who speaks first. “Yes. You knew that that would happen when you spoke your fathers name.” It’s a statement more than a question, if a fair one – considering his actions before he warped into the battle. “Yeah. I-“ Fuck. How to say this? “Bahamut has hated my father for a very long time – every since he refused to die for a prophecy Bahamut made and tried to find another way instead. The Fulgurian cursed him for it, and my father knew when I was born that he would try to kill me if it was known, just because of what my father is. I used that – because we were losing, and it was the only way I could think of that we might have won.” He knows that he’s not explaining this well but, he doesn’t really want to get into the entire story – not with Ardyn’s permission – and it’s not an easy thing to make sense of without all of the information. “What do you mean by what he is? And you called him a Lucis Caelum during the battle?” Cor said. Nyx sort of wanted to hit him – probably would if it didn’t hurt so much to just breathe – because he was really hoping that they hadn’t noticed that. And now Regis was starting to look like he was happy that he had more family out there and, fuck. “He’s… not technically a Lucis Caelum.” How he wished he could just leave it there and pretend his dad was someone’s bastard child. “If only because he’s older than the name. The reason the relation didn’t show up on my blood tests is because dad is a little over 2000 years old – so technically we’re about as genetically related to you as we are to everyone else on Eos, but we still have the magic so it’s a weird sorta grey area. And Bahamut really hates dad, and dad really hates him back because he’s the reason that dad is still alive nearly two thousand years later. And dad isn’t that fond of the Lucis Caelum line either because his brother was the founder and it’s the same brother who tried to kill him and stole his throne because dad was older and-“ Nyx cut himself off because he was rambling and everyone was looking very confused. “I’m really not explaining this well, am I?” Regis gave him a deadpan look that would have better suited Cor. “Right. Look. Two thousand years ago two sons were born to the line that would become the Lucis Caelum line – the Sage and the Mystic. The older one, the Sage, was given a prophecy by Bahamut that said he would be the one to rid the world of the Scourge – but that he would die for it. But the Sage didn’t want to die and he was a healer so he tried to find another way – but he was cursed with immortality by Bahamut, and rejected by his brother and his people for it. Dad continued to live and avoid Solheim and later Lucis, your line was born from the younger brother who became King, and Bahamut continued to hate dad. Then, 32 years ago, I was born. And both my parents knew that if my father was known, I would be killed – so it was hidden. Which is why when I revealed my fathers name Bahamut tried to kill me – the curse he gave my father, well dad isn’t really human anymore. And gods tend to tar us all with the same brush so…” Nyx shrugged. “In all honestly, I’m more surprised that it took so long for this to happen – especially since I caused it. I fully expected Bahamut to recognise me the first time he saw me – Ramuh certainly did. Especially since he can sense things through the crystal, and my magic feels pretty similar to dads so. I’ve been expecting this to happen for years.” Well. Fuck. He didn’t really mean to say that. He peered at the IV in his hand. What sort of drugs did they have him on? Regis stiffened. “What do you mean that you expected this to happen earlier?” -------------------------- And it goes on. Nyx keeps digging, making everything sound worse and worse. Mostly because he’s on the good drugs at the minute. Regis et al are very pissed that Nyx basically came to Lucis to die for his peoples protection. They sort of put the whole, my dad is 2000yrs old, thing to the back of their minds but then research the fuck out of the Sage when they get back. Everything they can find – and there isn’t much, most of it destroyed by Somnus all those years ago – supports what Nyx told them

(They find a painting. One that always seemed more fantastical then the halls full of formal portraits, located in a corridor just off of the throne room. They find a painting that shows a man with purple hair being dragged to his execution. On the back, the Sage is labelled.

Regis feels a bit sick when he realises. Because how many times has Nyx stood guard by this painting? How many times has Nyx been forced to stand there and ignore the painting of his father being killed for not wanting to die? And to see that displayed as art. Well, he’s sick and he’s angry because how could they have done this?)

Selena shows up the next day. She spends a full two hours yelling at him and then another hour hugging him, before leaving with Crowe (because those two are totally together). And then, two days after the talk with Regis et al, Ardyn shows up.

Nyx wakes up in the middle of the night and his father is standing in a shadowed corner, his eyes glowing yellow against the darkness of the room. Because he had terrified his father – because he had almost died and he was Adryn’s one of the few things that tie him to his humanity.

(The only reason it took Ardyn so long is because he stopped to destroy every one of Bahamut’s shrines that he could find on the trip back while also stopping to thank Ramuh for saving his sons life)

After the terror wears off Ardyn is both angry and proud. Angry because Nyx had basically sacrificed himself – and Ardyn is his father, no amount of lives are worth Nyx’s – and he had revealed who he was to Bahamut and it was a really stupid plan and he is going to shove Nyx through so much more training in response for this – because this may have basically been the best case scenario but things could always get worse. But also proud because using Bahamut to save everyone by making him dramatically miss constantly is exactly the thing that he would expect from his son.

He sticks around. And is still there when Regis et al come back the next day.

Which is about when they realise that Ardyn Lucis Caelum is actually Ardyn Izunia and he happens to be the Chancellor of Niflheim. Nyx probably should have mentioned that. Oops.

[dominiquegroves-blog]

10 weeks

         Most of you probably wont read this, and that’s okay because this is more so for me than anything else. This isn’t a pity party or a cry for attention. I figured if I took the time to really think about my feelings and put them down on paper that it would somehow help me heal, and maybe help someone else going through a similar situation. So here we go.

        For weeks now, I’ve had a thousand thoughts and emotions flowing through my body and have until this moment been able to put them into words. Dozens of people, including my husband, have asked me over and over again how I am doing and all I could think to say is that I was “fine” or “ok”, because I didn’t actually have an answer. I couldn’t process how I was feeling. I didn’t know how I was supposed to be feeling.  Part of me questioned whether or not I had the right to be depressed since I was only pregnant for such a short amount of time. Was I being dramatic? Did I have a right at all to be so heart broken since, after all, 50% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage? It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later as I was laying in bed, unable to sleep, that I finally forced myself to mentally relive the events that led me to this place; and I finally had my answer, I was sore.

            Usually “sore” isn’t a word you would use to describe your emotional state. That may be why it took me so long to be able to put my feelings into words. But in my case, it wasn’t any one thing I was healing from. Over the course of a week I was hit with one traumatizing event after another without any time in between to process the previous one. It’s kind of like when you over work a muscle, or work out the same body part multiple days in a row at the gym. A couple of hours, or a couple of days later you experience a nagging soreness that can make the slightest movement painful. That’s what I was experiencing, only emotionally. A nagging soreness that made everything unbearable.

            It started on Monday, September 24th. I had a normal prenatal check up. They took my vitals and blood samples and did a pelvic exam. By this point the baby was in it’s 9th week. We had already seen the flickering of it’s little heart beat during an ultrasound 3 weeks prior. Everything seemed perfectly fine, including my blood work, so we had no concerns. The medical assistant offered to use a doppler so that I could try to hear the heartbeat and started glopping gel on my stomach. After about a minute of hearing nothing but static and my own heart beat, I began getting anxious. She assured me that it was normal not to pick up a heartbeat yet on a doppler and said that it was probably just too early.  I hadn’t been having any worrisome symptoms so I relaxed, as much as someone with anxiety could, and put it in the back of my mind.

            Two days later we arrived at the hospital for our second ultrasound. I was working at the time as a nanny for two babies who were also with us. Cody and the kids were sitting in the waiting area watching “Trolls” on his phone while I went in for the scan. Before she began I prayed over and over to myself “please find a heart beat, please find a heart beat”. Maybe it was mother’s intuition that I knew something was wrong, or maybe every pregnant woman experiences the same few nerve-wracking seconds before their ultrasound.  Either way, after what seemed like years of moving the probe around, the technician asked me if I had had a previous ultrasound. Red flag. She then told me we were going to do a Transvaginal Ultrasound. I asked her if it was too early to see anything with the standard ultrasound. She said “no” and my heart sunk.

             A few minutes later she finally said to me “I, uh…well, there doesn’t seem to be a heart beat. It appears that the baby stopped growing a day or two ago”. She looked down. I stared. I don’t know what I was staring at because I didn’t see anything. I couldn’t tell you what was on that screen. I just stared at it, listening to what she was saying while trying to form a thought. She politely waited for me to respond but all I could say was “so is it…” I refused to say the word dead. I wouldn’t even allow myself to think it. She looked at me the way you would look at an injured puppy and said “I’m not really allowed to say, but the doctor wants you to come to her office straight from here anyway so”… pointing to the screen she explained “if there were a heart beat, we would see a flickering in this area, but um, there doesn’t seem to be anything going on”.  I continued to stare. Eventually I looked at her and said “okay”, got dressed, thanked her, which now seems like a funny thing to do, and walked out of the room. I don’t know if she had spoken to Cody before I got out or if it was the look on my face that clued him in but he knew. All I could do was look down and try to hold it together until we got to the car. As soon as we got the kids loaded in the car, we both broke down.

             It was a short drive to the doctor’s office but in those couple of minutes I tried to gather myself. Again, Cody had to wait with the kids so I asked him to wait in the car. They called me back immediately and started taking my vitals. Thirty or so seconds in I completely lost it. Unfortunately, I am the type of person who hyperventilates when they get upset so here I am, hysterical, alone in the middle of the doctors office. The nurse didn’t know what to say so she just got me a box of tissues, asked if I wanted her to get Cody and left the room. I was trying not to think and to focus on breathing so I could get myself together but there were posters of babies and the stages of fetal development on every wall. Helpful. Eventually the doctor came in and reiterated everything the technician had told me, only with less bedside manner. She then jumped in to explaining that I could wait for signs of a miscarriage to begin and to see if it occurs naturally but that I would most likely need a D&C and suggested I schedule it for Monday. I looked at her as if she were a Martian. Did she not realize how terrifying and devastating this all is? She prompted with “what would you like to do”? I was so aggravated that she could be so callous. I looked at her through tears and said, “I want to go home”.

            Terrible things happen in threes, right? Well, as it would happen, the battery on my boss’s nanny car decided to die. So, after unsuccessfully asking around for jumper cables, Cody and myself, along with two crying children who were long overdue for a nap, sat in the car until my boss arrived to give us a jump. He kept apologizing that we had to deal with this, referring to the car, not yet knowing that the car was only the cherry on top of the world’s shittiest day for us.

            Fast forward to my surgery. Cody called on Friday to schedule it for me. I didn’t have it in me to do it myself. The day of the procedure, Cody and I were sitting in the hospital room waiting for them to roll me to the operating room. My hair was braided down my back and I had a mint green hospital gown on. In any other situation I would have loved the color.  They told me I could leave my socks on. I laughed to myself. I was about to be the most exposed I would probably ever be in my entire life and they think I’m worried about my feet. A nurse administered a type of sedative through an IV and warned me that it is very strong and that I probably wouldn’t remember leaving the room. I made it to the hallway before I blacked out. Apparently I was still conscious though. I wasn’t put under anesthesia until after I was in the operating room. The nurse told Cody I “became very emotional” before they put me under. Wouldn’t you? When the surgery was over I remember the nurse waking me up, asking me if I was ready to go home. I told her “no, not yet”. That was the first time I had actually gotten sleep in days. Eventually the anesthesia wore off and I was forced to face reality, and my sore abdomen, and go home. Before we left the hospital they told me that I had lost a lot of blood during surgery and to take iron pills twice a day but they seemed unconcerned and we thought nothing of it.

            For the next few hours I tried to sleep but I had a headache. At some point I began to feel a weird, tingling sensation in my tongue that began to spread to my lips, then my cheek, then eventually the entire left side of my face. I texted Cody who was downstairs to tell him my face was numb. A second later he came flying up the stairs like a bat out of Hell. He asked what was going on but by that time my face had gone back to normal. While I was explaining to him what had happened, it started again, only this time it spread to my left hand as well. I was trying to explain to him what I was feeling but I couldn’t form a sentence. I couldn’t walk and I was stuttering and stumbling over words. By this point, Cody thought I was having a stroke. He called the hospital to fill them in on what was going on. I must have done something really freaky while he was on the phone because he suddenly said “ um, yeah, I’m bringing her in” hung up and loaded me in the car.

            The hospital on post was the closest so we went straight there rather than to the one where I had my surgery. I sat in the waiting room, in a wheel chair, doubled over with a horrible migraine. I had my eyes closed the entire time I was there because it was too painful to open them. I could hear little kids running back and forth yelling and I seriously considered screaming at them to shut up. Finally the triage nurse called us back. Long story short, with my eyes still closed, I threw up all over his fancy office trashcan. That was enough to convince him and he escorted us to a bed. The next hours consisted of blood work, IVs, CT scans, and ultrasounds. Finally, after obtaining my medical records from the other hospital they realized that my hemoglobin count was so low from the blood loss during surgery that I developed anemia. My baseline before surgery was at 12 grams per deciliter, now it was at 9 and dropping. They did 3 blood tests in the matter of 3 hours and the last one read around an 8. They told us that if it dropped any lower I would need a blood transfusion. They also said that they needed to transfer me back to the original hospital incase God forbid anything goes wrong they do not have surgery here. So, Domi took her first ride in an ambulance.

           When we got to the hospital the paramedics rolled me up to my room, which was, get this, a labor and delivery suite. If you cant appreciate the irony in that, good, because nether did I. It felt like a cruel joke. Later on I found out that Cody had asked a nurse which room I was in to which she replied with the number and said “labor and delivery, congratulations”! He then had to explain that there was nothing to celebrate. He went upstairs to find me and she probably went to find the nearest hole to burry herself in. We spent the night in that room listening to the annoying beeping of the machines while I routinely got poked and prodded to check my hemoglobin levels. Eventually they decided to give me an intravenous iron supplement. Only then did I actually start to feel better. My numbers began to improve, not by much, but enough to discharge me. We left around 3’oclock in the afternoon. We went home and I immediately started packing. We already had a trip planned for New Jersey for the following day. It was supposed to be the weekend of our gender reveal (he was a boy, by the way). As depressing as that was and as shitty as I felt, all I wanted to do was go home and see my family. So we packed our suitcases, brought the dogs to the boarder and left for the airport around 3 am.

            It’s two weeks later now. I’m still not 100% better. I ended up quitting my job because both physically and emotionally it was too straining for me. There are still days that I wake up with a splitting headache that I can’t shake. I still cry at the drop of a hat. My energy level is at an all time low. I have no desire to eat, or do much of anything for that matter. Needless to say I still have a lot of healing to do and Cody and I decided that I would do that best while taking it easy at home. If you actually read this far, I’m impressed and also thankful that you took the time to try to understand what both Cody and I have been dealing with. I didn’t write this to throw myself a pity party, but instead to help myself heal and find closure. All of the horrible, little things added up were traumatizing, especially being Cody and I are so far away from family, so it was a lot for us to process. But every day we are making progress and continue to grow stronger.

[lifeafterten]

RtN 02: Sept 02 -Sept 12; Get Me the FUCK Outta Here

I’ve been here for days. Who the fuck stays in the hospital for days?... Fucked up people. And I’m in Fucked-Upville-- Population (points to self) this mother fucker. 

Okay. Okay. I’m turning the drama down.  Honestly though... I’ve been here a fucking while. I have an I.V. tube in each arm, one for fluids, because I’m perpetually dehydrated, the other is for the antibiotics that don’t seem to be working, because I still feel like death. I have to often lay in awkward positions so I don’t tangle myself and make the machines go off. So. Much. Beeping. And I swear to Christ, if they come at you with a little blue bag and claim it’s potassium... RUN--Fucking run, because once they hook your ass up to that shit you’ll feel like they’re injecting fire into your veins and you can’t scream because let’s face it: you’re too damn tired, so you settle for some weird case of facial Tourettes in the form of wincing and hissing. And they turn the drip down enough for the fire to feel like a sting... and you feel that effervescent sting until it’s done. It’s “supposed” to take 30 minutes-- they say. But my pansy ass can’t take the heat so the slowed down version makes it last at least an hour and some change. I pray I’m not stubborn enough today to take the morphine.  Why won’t you take the morphine, Ashley? I’ll fucking tell you why-- I have control issues.  And the morphine feels too fucking good that I need the pain to remind me that I’m still alive and to gauge between dream and reality.

At this point I’m agitated (by pain and impatience). I’ve been stuck by damned needled so many times, because of all the bloodletting I’ve been doing.  These assholes have been taking my life source (no, not coffee, you freak) twice a day. Oh, I’m sorry, they’ve been taking my “blood cultures” twice a day.

Why? They don’t say. They tell me to ask my doctor. My doctor is a pussy.  Soft spoken; pussy footing fucking pussy, who can’t give me a straight answer.

I dismiss my doctor more than a person dismisses alcoholism. Day drinking is not a bad thing. Who cares if it’s barely noon and you’ve been drinking since 9. ... Not speaking from experience-- Anyway!

I dismissed my doctor a lot. I couldn’t help it. I’ve been laying up in this bitch for weeks and you can’t give me some indication of what’s going on; let alone a time frame of when I’ll be able to go home-- on top of a mother fucking reason why I’m being kept in here for so damn long? Yeah. Fuck that shit. Dismissed, mother fucker. I have no fucks to give for useless asshats. Come talk to me when you can tell me what the fuck’s up. 

I’ve been moved to three or four rooms. From the ER bed to Surgery... Then to another room in Surgery... to the Telemetry ward, because my heart rate was too high-- which honestly I’m not surprised... I’ve been on permanent pissed the hell off for quite some time now.  They take my vitals every 30 minutes.  I’ve been counting because I literally have nothing else to do, besides... I only feel that it’s fair that I monitor them while they monitor me. But mostly it’s because I’m bored and there’s nothing on TV.  By now I’ve refused visitors.  I’ve dodged death a couple times.

Homicide via Mio overdose: Backstory: I asked for Mio, because they kept saying I was dehydrated and I thought I needed electrolytes like a muh’fug, so when my friend Kris came by (note she had no idea what Mio was let alone how to use it) and had dumped an entire bottle of Mio (24 servings) into my water jug (16 - 24 oz tops). I take one sip of it and I thought I was gonna die. Chest was on fire. My machines were going crazy, because I was coughing my lungs out and poor Kris is panicked and distraught. Its hard to convey you’re okay if you’re croaking like you’ve been smoking for about 300 years and your vision is obscured by tears. Sidenote: The incident still brings her to tears to this day, she feels so bad. Personally, I think it’s adorable and funny... Now, at the time...? Owie.

Suicide via Mother doth Love too much: I love my mother. I do. I love my entire family. But they like to hover and it was stifling. They’re looking at me with worried eyes when they think I’m asleep and I get it.  It doesn’t look good, kid.  My sister? God love her, she tries to keep the worry and her tears in check because she knows I don’t know how to handle them.  My Dad? Shit, my dad knows what’s up. He knows I’m gonna handle my shit the only way I know how. On my own terms. This is why I’m a daddy’s girl. My brother and sister in law on the other hand? My bother spilled water down the front of my gown (had to change that shit. not fun) and his wife, in her efforts to break my fever, stuffed my fresh new gown with ice packs.. And when I say ice packs, I mean latex gloves filled with ice stuffed in my gown. Stuffed. In. My. Fucking. Gown. That’s it-- I’ve had it! Everyone’s banned.

And it’s also hard to put on a tough front when all I wanna do is cry, but I end up just being angry instead.

The only human interaction I had is when the nurses are taking my blood, or my vitals, or switching my IV bags, or helping me to the bathroom to do bathroom things, or giving me sponge baths because I’m too weak to get out of bed, or shooting morphine into my body to ease my torment; or shoving pills down my fucking throat because nothing is fucking working. I’m still getting fevers out of nowhere.  People are coming in and out every morning to lift my gown up (they do it so much they don’t even ask anymore. A brief thought of charging them crosses my mind, and I allow a small giggle. Because it’s silly, because I’m glad I still had somewhat of a sense of humor.) Still, I think my cooter deserves some ounce of respect. Women’s lib and all that crap. I’ve turned this part of the day into a game (I’m SO fucking bored). I like to spot the face tightening moment when they assess whatever the fuck is going on with my leg (I don’t know. I haven’t seen... I don’t want to see yet). 

It’s fun for me, because they’re medical professionals-- they’re supposed to be used to this kind of thing. But the face tightening? To me that’s a victory. That just means they have to school their expressions to indifference so as to not alarm me. Ah, bed side manner.  They’re so sweet. But I know just by their non-expressions that it looks fucked up. I have to look at the small details; read between the lines of what they’re not telling me.  I’d be in the dark otherwise. What are they not telling me? I know they’re testing for something... But I don’t know what they’re testing for. I stamp down fear, because I don’t have enough data to panic.

My dreams are getting scarier, because of the morphine. No more morphine, I promise myself. Vicodin only.  Yeah, that seems safer. The nurses, I’ve learned, just need someone to listen to them. Since I can’t get a decent night’s sleep because they’re fucking coming in every 15 to 30 minutes all day, every day, all the fucking time... Why the fuck not? I got nowhere else to be. I seem to have opened Pandora’s Box, because it’s 3am and I’m giving life advice to Agnes who has a very rebellious son, whom I point out is 16 years old and he’s going through a phase, it doesn’t mean she’s a bad mother.  Which I reminds me that I need to tell Doris who’s part of the Day crew that Agnes is off on Wednesdays too and that they should hangout together, because I think they would get along. I make a mental note to pass Agnes’ number to Doris later. I really should start charging... This pro bono shit aint working out. 

During my hospital stay I’ve managed the following:

Make only 4 nurse assistants cry

Befriend most if not all the Filipino nurses (they gave me all the apple sauce I wanted)

Make that one stern Indian Night Nurse smile (she gave me yogurt and bananas every time she was on shift)

Counsel only 5 to 6 nurses, mostly 5.. the 6th one kinda got weird. Didn’t take whatever she gave me.

Snob my doctor almost every day. 

Made my main nurse laugh because she thinks I’m a riot. 

Days later it was time for me to go home. I knew this for damned sure.  I saw so many specialists from an infectious disease doctor to a surgeon. I was so fucking bloated from all the fluids they were trying to fill me with that they could barely find veins to stab to get their precious blood cultures from. 

I also decided that with my body like this the Mitchelin tire man was my cousin.

Sidenote: To hell with the Infectious Disease doctor. That heifer made me lay on my side for two fucking days straight. Fat load that shit did for me. With all the extra fluids in my body, it just shifted to one side. All it gave me was a backache and lopsided boobs... and some fucking fluid in my lungs. Fucking devil woman. I got a fucked up leg, I’m the size of a float during the Macy’s Day Parade, and now I got lopsided tits. It’s funny... now. At the time? Not so much. It was September 12.  I had broken out in a rash due to an allergic reaction to one of the antibiotics. (Let’s just add that to the list of whatever the fuck else is wrong with my body, shall we?) My “doctor” (doesn’t deserve the title nor respect. Sorry not sorry) was trying to get me to stay a few more days. I’ve had quite enough. I told him to get the discharge papers ready. I’m leaving. My fevers were gone. My leg wasn’t draining so badly anymore (ew, gross. sorry) I felt fine. Despite me constantly checking my hands so they don’t try to scrape my skin off. Fucking hell I was so itchy. I didn’t need to be in here. That’s when the good doctor decided to divulge that I hurt his feelings and that I was his least favorite patient. (Boo freakity hoo.) But I was a good girl and let him talk, said all the appropriate things. ... He’s still a pussy.  He was glad to be rid of me and the feeling was more than fucking mutual. I did not tell him to get fucked. I did not tell him to suck my dick. I did not flick him off. I did not throw shit at him. I was rather proud of myself. I showed great restraint.  But I did point out that just because he had the “MD” attached to his name, does not mean automatic respect. Respect is earned Dr. Pussy foot.  I signed the paperwork with relish. Jessie came to pick me up and I was whisked off to spend my mandatory (couldn’t argue my way outta that one) bed rest at the Joseph’s.  I’m so tired of laying down. TBC...