#ive seen the results and it came back fine but i still want to discuss them 2 be sure

[citroensap]

i made cinnamon rolls <3

[whythinktoomuch]

~pARt fIVe~

(pt. i)  (pt. ii)  (pt. iii)  (pt. iv)

Lena awakes to silence, her bed patterned with the soft pinks and oranges of a rising sun, the bright flicker of the muted TV, and Kara Danvers sitting in the corner of her room.

But it’s Kara like Lena has never seen her before.

Slumped in her seat, with her chin resting precariously on one palm. No glasses. Blonde hair down and tumbling over her shoulders. Defeated, somehow.

It takes a few moments and quite a few deep breaths before Lena can gather herself up again, which is only natural given that it’s been weeks since she’s last encountered Kara, or Supergirl.

Not that Kara hasn’t been in to see her, of course. Because she’s definitely been dropping by, checking in on Lena while she slept. That much was obvious, what with all the mornings that Lena awoke to a fresh kale smoothie sitting on her nightstand with a lingering note of vanilla floating in the air.

But even then, Lena still had yet to be greeted by the actual sight of Kara Danvers herself.

Well, until now, that is.

-

“I couldn’t find your whiteboard, so I brought this.” Kara holds up a small tablet. “You can throw it at me if you want, of course, but just keep in mind that it’ll be, you know… a lot harder to replace.”

Lena sighs, flicking her eyes toward the door. She’s only just started to get the hang of walking without crutches, and it’d be a real shame if she fell flat on her face, all in the name of making some grand gesture.

Or even worse, have Kara catching her as she fell.

“I know you don’t really want to see me right now,” Kara continues hesitantly. “But I’d really like for us to have a conversation. So, please…”

Kara walks over to set the tablet within Lena’s reach, then takes several steps back and waits. But Lena makes no move to take the device. She just crosses her arms and waits right along with Kara, her gaze severe and unwavering.

“Okay, fine,” Kara says after a prolonged, pointed silence. “Will you at least hear me out then?” She studies Lena’s face carefully, and whatever she finds there must be enough because Kara quickly goes on to say, so earnestly and just so, so dearly, “Lena… I really miss you.”

Lena’s stomach drops away, and she seriously reconsiders her stance on the possibility of falling on her face. There’s always a chance that she could knock herself unconscious, after all. Maybe even sustain another concussion?

Anything could—and would—be better than this.

But Kara never gives her the chance, barreling on thoughtlessly as ever. “I’m sure it doesn’t count for much at this point,” she says with a bitter laugh, “but I really did want to tell you. You have to believe me. I must have tried, like… a thousand times. More. I can’t even count how many times I’ve tried to tell you…”

And finally, Lena can’t hold it in any longer. “But you didn’t,” she says sharply. Kara’s head snaps up at the sound of her voice—a bit dry and somewhat gruff from lack of use, but intelligible. “It’s not about your intentions, Kara. I’m sure you had the best of intentions. But what good is any of that to me, after the fact?”

“You can talk?” Kara asks, dumbfounded.

“Theoretically.” Lena gives a slight cough, gingerly rubs at her jaw with a wince. “The wires came off last night.”

“That’s… that’s great. I’m glad! It means you’re getting better.”

“Yeah, well, everything still hurts,” Lena snaps, and Kara falls silent once more. “You hurt me, okay? You hurt me way worse than Lex, or anyone else could have for that matter.”

“Lena…” Kara shakes her head in disbelief. “How could even you say that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“But I never meant for it to—”

Lena cuts in with a scoff. “And there you go again. With your intentions. Listen, I don’t care about—”

“You’re my best friend, Lena,” Kara says, pressing forward insistently. “So, how could you even think that I would—”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Of course, it matters what you think! You’re important to me, and—”

“Well, I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s jaw snaps shut.

Her chest is heaving, her words decidedly unmistakeable.

The resulting silence smothers her anger, paving the way for the relentless flood of shame and sinking regret.

For one desperate, shiny, pitiful moment, Lena thinks that perhaps she’d only imagined it.

That it was just all in her head.

That her inner monologue was just being a lot louder than usual, but nothing actually hit the air or became words that she could never take back.

But Kara blinks. Her lips part, only to press back together in a thin line and purse. She swallows hard. Then swallows even harder. An entire slew of expressions flits across her face at near dizzying speeds, but in the end, not a single one of them sticks.

“… No, you’re not,” she blurts out finally.

Indignation—sharp and insistent—flickers in Lena’s hollowed out chest. “Excuse me?”

“You… can’t. It’s impossible…” Kara shakes her head, as if to clear it. Then harder, as if to disagree. “You never said anything.”

“How dare you,” Lena starts, as the spark of anger cuts through all the shame, rapidly inflating into something full-blown, righteous, and intoxicating. “How fucking dare you try to tell me how I fucking feel!”

“But you didn’t say anything!” Kara protests right back, a frustration of equal proportions creeping into her tone. “You never said a word. You should have told me!”

“Oh, that’s rich. Coming from you, of all people!”

And on and on, they go. Trading increasingly heated remarks back and forth, even as the whole exchange quickly deteriorates into an exercise of futility and incoherent noise… until Alex bursts into the room.

“Kara,” she barks. “Out. Now.”

“Alex, no, I just need to—”

“Doesn’t matter. Out. You’re harassing my patient.”

Kara tightens her jaw in a near audible clench, both hands fisted at her sides and trembling. But she leaves. She releases her breath in a sharp exhale and throws one last glare over her shoulder as she does it, but Kara finally—finally—takes her leave, and Lena can fall back into her bed in a pained relief.

“Your sister’s an idiot,” she grits out.

“No, she’s not.”

“She is…” Lena swipes her wrist across her eyes. It comes away shiny and wet, pathetic. “She’s dumb, and god, she’s just always been so fucking—”

“For not knowing something you didn’t tell her?” Alex cuts in sharply. “Are you sure you want to go there right now?”

“You knew,” Lena says, and it feels like an accusation, even when Alex fails to react to it as such. “You fucking knew, so why couldn’t—Why wouldn’t…”

Lena chokes then—on her own words and frustration, on all of her unwanted, unwarranted tears—and suddenly, it feels like she’s the one being stupid right now. And maybe she is. In a way, maybe she always has been…

The feeling only grows stronger when Alex eventually says, “Well… I don’t really have a reason not to know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lena demands, with a steadily deepening scowl.

But no matter how many times or how emphatically the question is asked, Alex refuses to acknowledge any discussion outside of Lena’s health and physical well-being.

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report iv 

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: swearing

word count: 2.5k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist] @nottodayjjk @ditttiii​ @zeharilisharaban​ @btsbunny07​ @turquoiseandplaidinautumn  @aamxxrii @codeinebelle ​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

Your phone blares at exactly 6:45AM, and a memetastic image of Chohee lights up your phone screen as you’re brushing your teeth. When you swipe to answer the call, you don’t even manage to get a word in when Chohee chatters you out of your sleep-deprived soul.  

“Just as practiced, I’m punctual, and you’re late.”  

Garbling out a reply about how it’s still five minutes prior to your agreed time, you tap your toothbrush loudly against the sink, likewise spitting out the foam from your mouth. “Fine, just hurry because I’m starving!”  

Being the gold-hearted person that she is (although that fact is not known to the public), your best friend had offered you a ride to the building where you’re scheduled to take the Korean Medical Licensure Examination today.  

The moment you settle yourself on the passenger seat, she greets you with a cheery “Good morning!” - one that was too cheery this early in the morning, and all the more way too cheery for a certain Kim Chohee. The two of you share a look and you lean in for a hug. “Hey, we’ll do just fine, okay? We’ve been studying our asses for this.”  

You don’t let go at once, looking up at her with a kissy face. She pushes your head backwards with a disgusted expression, keeping your face at an arm’s length. With an unattractive snort, you lean back in your seat, laughing your ass off at your poor attempt to lighten the mood.  

“Seriously, _______, I know you’ve been lusting after me for years even when you’re well aware of my ‘strictly beef’ diet,” Chohee states, dusting your imaginary germs off her shoulder. Turning on her Benz’s engine, she checks her reflection on the rear-view mirror before driving off.  

With both your hands occupied with the sandwiches you’d ordered from Subway, you use your pinky to connect your phone to play some Mozart via bluetooth. You try not to talk much about the test, knowing it will only cause unnecessary anxiety on both your ends.  

As Chohee leans towards you, you tilt her sandwich in her direction, letting her take a bite from her sub. “Hey, what’s an abscess again?”  

“Isn’t that more commonly known as boils? Built up pus within or below the surface of the skin?”  

Kim Chohee chokes on her BLT.  

“Pus?” she repeats, swallowing her bite with great strain. “Seriously? While I’m eating a sandwich? Couldn’t you be more subtle perhaps?”  

Equally just as surprised as she was, you narrow your eyes at her. “We’ve been studying medicine for the last six years! It shouldn’t be a surprise by now...and besides, we’ve heard and see a lot worse too...Would you rather have me say purulent exudate then? And waste my precious saliva on a six-syllable word rather than the common term for a liquid form of inflamm-”  

“Okay!” Chohee throws an arm up in defeat. “Sheesh _______! Don’t I deserve at least some gratitude for driving you to our exams?”  

“Plus we’ve already seen a cadaver too, which was supposedly one of the peaks of our med-student lives! What’s all this hype about some viscous mass on the surface of the skin?”  

Your best friend peeks at you from her peripheral vision, absolutely mortified. You love it.  

“Can you please remind me how we became friends in the first place?” Chohee shakes her head and increases the volume of the player as the droplets of rain start pouring down the windshield. “Anyways – I was meaning to ask the histological meaning of it.”    

“Oh, right,” you nod, recalling your notes, “well, it’s a localized collection of neutrophils and necrotic debris. Basically, it’s a suppurative inflammation which is associated with pyogenic bacteria and characterized by edema fluid admixed with neutrophils and necrotic cells. Staphylococcus aureus usually produces abscesses because it’s coagulase positive and coagulase helps the production of fibrinous material that localizes the infection.”  

As soon as you finish, silence takes over the car, and suddenly, a sniffle comes from Chohee’s side. With a matching frown, you best friend looks at you with shiny eyes. “Oh _______, what would I do without you?”  

With still half an hour to spare, you decide on relieving your bladder first before all the toilets get occupied later a couple of minutes before the actual exam. You take your time with it, even managing to put some effort in fixing your hair in clipping your fringe back so as not to eliminate all distractions possible during the exam.  

While looking through the large panel windows on your way back from the comfort rooms, you spot a familiar face – the last person you’d want to see on such an important day. Perhaps your prayers weren’t loud enough to actually reach heaven.  

There Jeon Jungkook was at the end of the hall, walking like a newly-canonized saint in all his glory. Most (if not all) of the female onlookers stare at him as he passes by, with Jungkook seemingly unbothered by their unwavering attention. You aren’t one for exaggeration, but these women look like they’re willing to worship the ground he walked on.  

Your nerdy, anti-Jeon Jungkook ass quickly hides beside a nearby locker, not wanting to be ‘graced’ by his presence, just as some girl coined a few moments ago as she headed to the toilets with her friends, collectively gushing over the boy.  

The popular kid turns to his right and you swore you’d never prayed harder and faster than any other time in your life. Your room assignment was just the one by the corner...and if he could just make a few more steps and head straight to the next classroom a-and...nope. It’s official. The universe loved shitting on you.  

Jungkook enters room 132, the very same numbers indicating your room assignment for the licensure exam. You ball up your fists in your spot by the lockers, releasing all your pent-up frustration in the simplest and least violent way possible: a long, tedious exhale.  

Gathering up all your self-control, you re-enter the classroom with an inward grimace, desperate to not have Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. He’s looking for a seat, and with all the back rows already occupied, he’s stuck with picking one from the first two rows.  

He’s already stood near the seat you’ve picked and you bore holes into the back of his head with your fake telepathy, silently ordering him to pick a chair on the other side of the aisle instead.  

Just as you had not wished for, Jungkook plops his huge ass backpack on the chair next to yours. You tread back to your seat as discreetly as possible, avoiding his gaze at all times as he rummages through his military backpack. What the fuck is in that thing in the first place? You won't be surprised if he manages to pull out a whole microwave inside – and yet funnily enough, he can’t seem to own a single damn pencil.  

As you were minding your own businesses (hopefully it stays that way for the rest of eternity), you catch the other students discussing surgical cases last minute.  

“Hey, which artery is the one for transection for an epidural hematoma?”  

“Was this the kid that got hit by a fastball in the head?”  

“What happened?”  

“Poor boy got hit in the temporal area during a baseball tournament. Remained conscious during the rest of the day but during the same evening he gets a severe headache with vomiting and confusion. When they got to Severance he got scheduled for immediate surgery for epidural hematoma.”

“That sounds awful…”  

“I’m not sure which artery it was again though…”

If that were the case...then it’d be the transection of a branch of the middle meningeal artery...but then you wouldn’t want to answer that out of the blue and get mistaken for being too snoopy…

Instead, you reach for the bottle of water by the legs of your chair, likewise hearing the same answer coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in a whisper. Huh. You raise a brow. Well, there was a major chance he knew the case since he came from Yonsei too, just as you had speculated from some of your roommates who seemed like they came from the same school after mentioning Severance Hospital.  

The group continue discussing their answers when this girl, who had an obnoxiously unnatural high-pitched voice, approaches Jungkook.  

“Jungkook-oppa?”  

Oppa? OPPA?!

You wanted to throw up. This girl looked at least two-three years older than him. At the least. Guess Jeon was really more of a fuckboy than Chohee would ever admit. “We were just discussing something and we’re really unsure of our answers, maybe a smart oppa like you would know?”  

With as much discretion as you could muster, you adjust in your seat, leaning a little bit towards their conversation as you eavesdrop like the nosy person that you are.  

“The surgery was a transection of the meningeal artery,” says Jeon nonchalantly like it’s the most basic thing in the world, still scrolling through his phone. Silence ensues after that. That’s it?! He’s not even going to bother explaining-  

Jungkook exhales as he puts his phone down. “Epidural hemorrhages result from a rupture of one of the meningeal arteries, as these arteries supply the dura and run between the dura and the skull. Plus you said temporal area right?” he asks, facing one of the guys.  

“The artery involved is usually the middle meningeal artery - a branch of the maxillary artery, as the skull fracture is usually in the temporal area. Since the bleeding is of arterial origin, symptoms are rapid in onset even though he seemed normal for a few hours. If they didn’t bring him to the hospital that same evening, he could’ve had tentorial herniation and would have eventually died.”  

As much as you hate to admit it - you’re beyond impressed. Chohee always stays true to her word, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was still a jerk for clearly cutting the line at the subway.  

The girls coo over him, praising him over how cool he looked by explaining his answer. Jungkook settles back on his seat like he hadn’t just perfectly given an on-point pathological explanation for a neuro case.  

The group continues their review, until they’ve come to another question they’re unsure of. “Jungkook-ssi, would you know where the rupture of a berry aneurysm of the Circle of Willis would likely produce hemorrhage?”  

With only ten minutes left, you’d usually be preparing yourself mentally but this group and Jungkook’s intervention has you all ears once more. Nothing wrong with some last minute review, right?  

“It’s the subdural space.”  

Wow. Okay, quick and close but wrong. Impressive wit though.  

You open your mouth to say something but you hesitate as it dawns on you that you really aren’t part of this group and you’re not the one being asked. Jungkook not missing a beat gets a collective ‘ooh’ from the group, who’s clearly impressed at how quickly he’s answered the question.  

Meanwhile, your conscience is making you contemplate on your earlier hesitation with the voice of the angel on your right shoulder telling you it isn’t right to let the wrong answer pass just like that, especially on a day like this. The devil on your left, however, tells you otherwise. You go with the former.  

Amongst their murmurs of mutual praise for Jungkook (you bet this man is rejoicing inside with all the attention he’s getting, despite looking nonchalant), you take a deep breath and say the correct answer, voice coming out louder than expected.  

“Excuse me?” another ‘spectator’ says, jutting her chin towards you.  

“I said,” you look up at her, “it’s actually the subarachnoid space.”  

“Are you sure?” she retorts.  

Seriously? Just because you’re not some fuckboy jock who smolders at all boobed humans means you can’t be sure with your answer?  

“Hey! I know you!” Someone exclaims from the side, causing everyone to turn their heads toward him, “You’re the foreigner valedictorian at SNU!” Similar to their earlier praises directed towards Jungkook, the same dudes marvel at your most recent accomplishment. You give a shy smile in return, quietly thanking the stranger for the sudden confidence boost.  

“Jungkook-oppa is also the valedictorian at Yonsei.”  

Well, that didn’t last for long...somebody has always got to rain on your parade. You won’t allow this girl though, not today.  

You purse your lips, collecting your thoughts first before explaining it to them. “Subarachnoid hemorrhages, although they are much less common than hypertensive intracerebral hemorrhages, but the former are...more often than not...resultant of a rupture of a berry aneurysm.” You pause momentarily when someone drags his seat closer to yours, “Go on please.”  

“Right, um...berry aneurysms are most commonly found at the Circle of Willis, usually by the junction of the communicating artery and the cerebral artery. Chances of rupture increase with age and cause marked bleeding into the subarachnoid space and produces severe headaches.” The same dude earlier blinks at you, urging you to explain further, “uh...additional symptoms may include vomiting, pain, stiffness of the neck, and papilledema. Death may follow rapidly as well.”  

A few from the people gathered around your seat clap their hands, along with compliments and offers along the lines of marriage and organ swaps.  

Someone mentions seeing the proctor approach the room and the group immediately disperses, everyone rushing back to their seats as quickly as possible. A middle-aged man enters, tells everyone to bring out their pencils and place their stuff by the platform, then momentarily leaves for the restroom.  

Jungkook fishes through his bag, turning each pocket inside and out over and over again. There’s no way this kid actually-- “Shit, where did that pencil go?” he murmurs, going through his bag once more. Looking away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from snickering. Jeon Jungkook is definitely on a different level.  

As expected, your entertaining seatmate calls you and asks for a pencil. With a deceivingly enthusiastic nod, you retrieve a pencil from your case just beside your chair. Your life after meeting Jungkook at the subway had finally led to this moment. He clears his throat and you figure it’s signaling the coming of another obnoxious comment.  

“Oh, I’m sorry, this wasn’t meant for you,” you look at him with the most apologetic look you can muster. Then you look at him, down then up, just as he had done back in the library, you smile widely before winking at him, making him hand your extra pencil over to the guy sat next to him, “Thanks, babe.”  

Jungkook scowls hard and you rejoice inside your head, making sure that your face doesn’t register the slightest bit of jest. His  scowl however, does not last for long. “Hmm, you’re the girl from the library, right? Smart and feisty...maybe you are my type after all,” he murmurs, tongue poking his cheek. You scoff loudly, scrunching your face in disgust. “No thank you.”  

“Oppa,” the girl’s shrill voice calls him one more time and you face forward to freely roll your eyes. If you aren’t mistaken, there’s even a hint of mild annoyance on Jungkook’s features. “Don’t mind her, oppa. You can have my extra pencil instead.” She tsks. “Some people just don’t know when to quit.”  

At least she got something right this morning: you don’t know when to quit. 

© joontier 2021

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Poisoned.”

Got this idea from a comment or ask someone made. hope this iw what they had in mind :)

Another galactic summit, more issues to deal with, and more problems to discuss, not the largest being the Burg war, and the attack on earth. Though it had been thwarted by the planet’s natural hellish landscape, there were still discussions to be made about whether the Rundi and the Vrul would help to provide a defense Nexus to the remaining planets. As well as disaster relief on the gromm home world.

The rundi home world at the GA summit chambers were, once again, rife with alien lifeforms. It was also, once again, rife with Rundi underlings who were trying very hard not to freak out with all the duties that were being placed on their backs.

At least one thing was made clear, there was no pint in getting human food for the summit, since the human delegates always insisted on trying all the other alien food. Leave enough of the nectar orbs from the Drev home world out, and that seemed to keep the humans happy enough.

Dr. Krill accompanied the Commander into the summit as was usual. Sunny was not with them today, seeing as she had work to do back aboard the ship

That left just the two of them.

Felt almost like old times.

The captain was dressed up in his fancy UNSC uniform, and as such, he was obligated to behave.

Apparently behaving didn’t mean avoiding arguments with his most important doctor, who --despite being a complete genius-- was hardly capable of getting the captain to agree with him.

“I just think that there should be better security at these things. All of the most important people in the galaxy are here.”

“Krill,  there is an entire armada outside, I hardly think we need to worry about being attacked by the burg. Besides, their attack on earth completely broke their spirits. There is no way they would try getting in here.”

Krill crossed both sets of arms, “I disagree, Commander. I have been looking into human history of warfare, and I Think that a spy could easily-”

“Krill calm down will you. Besides, species rely on the fact that you can disguise yourself to look like the other side. The Burg are so fugly that they'd be noticed in half an instant.

They came around the corner, and the Commander was nearly knocked onto his back as an Iotin brushed past hurrying from the banquet hall.

The Commander tripped back into a wall, “Woah watch….yourself.” The Iotin disappeared around the next corner, and the Commander looked after him with a frown, “Didn’t know those guys could move that fast. Wonder why he could be in such a hurry.”

Krill waved it off as the Commander poked his head into the banquet room, “Oh look, pink orbs!”

“Commander, don’t you think we should wait until after the summit, when the food is being served.”

The man waved a hand, “Oh no one will notice one missing.”

He quickly snuck into the room and Krill rolled his eyes as the man came out munching on one of the pink fruits.

“And they made you leader of the fleet.”

“Technically they are thinking of making me leader of the entire Galactic armada, but I digress.”

“Lord help us all.”

The captain made a face.

“What it’s true.”

The man shook his head, “No, not you, this fruit tastes…. Weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird.”

He shrugged and took another bite, “Not bad enough for me to stop eating it, so good weird I guess.”

He stuffed the rest of the orb into his mouth and licked the juices off his fingers.

Krill sighed, “I still can’t believe they would choose you.”

“Better believe it.”

The two of them walked into the main conference chamber to sit down with the other delegates. The human delegation was near the top tier, and so that is where they went, taking a seat  just to the right of the Rundi chairwoman’s box.

The entire room was alive with the sound of alien life.

Commander Vir leaned over to speak with one of the delegates and krill was left to watch the room. Most of the delegations were here, though the iotin delegation had arrived late. Seemed strange considering he had seen one of their number not long ago.

The light dimmed  a couple of times, and the chairwoman took her pedestal and began to greet the delegates. Krill looked on politely as was his want though he wasn’t entirely interested in the whole thing.

The charwoman could be rather long-winded when she got going.

He sat there through a good few minutes of it glancing over at the other human delegates on occasion. Vir looked almost sleepy, though that was almost to be expected, he was never very good at politics, even though he was involved in them so much.

He turned back to the delegation.

The commander shifted uncomfortably in his seat during a discussion about intergalactic trade laws, and Krill looked over again.

The man had taken to licking his lips repeatedly.

“Are you ok?” Krill muttered.

“Yeah fine, just thirsty.” He muttered 

Krill let it go through something made him turn back not to long after. The human was rubbing at his mouth, which appeared red, though he supposed that was supposed to be expected. Little lines of sweat were trickling down from his hairline.

He scooted a bit closer.

“Commander, are you feeling alright.”

He was waved off, “yeah, I’m ok, it just got a little hot in here as all…. Feeling kind of…. Faint. Maybe a little nauseous. I am sure I’ll be fine. Probably just need something to eat.”

The talks continued, but Krill wasn’t focused on them anymore. The commander was not looking very good. He was sweating enough that the collar of his dress shirt was almost soaked. The tint of his face had gone from healthy blush to a yellow parlor. He looked as if he was about to pass out. A few  of the other human delegates had stared to notice.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, “Commander are you feeling alright.”

“I…. I think I…. Just need to…. Walk around.”

His voice was slurred.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea commander?” Krill said turning his head to face him. 

His pupils were unusually wide despite the dark space around them.

“The human was breathing hard now, one hand over his chest. His dry mouth from earlier had gone, replaced by saliva production so excessive he was having to clear his mouth every couple of seconds.

He looked at Krill, and the expression on his face was enough.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

The other delegates had leaned over sensing the commotion, and they stood to let Krill and the commander pass as he stood and wobbled his way towards the stairs. 

Krill could sense something was wrong almost immediately.

Dizziness, shortness of breath, nausea.

“Someone, help him walk.” Krill ordered not caring about the delegation anymore.

Their sudden movement had caused a bit of commotion on one side of the room. The commander paused on the stairwell, and instead of turning towards the exit, he turned towards the delegation floor. Krill tried to grab him, tried to stop him, but the human -- even in his weakened state -- was still too strong.

A muttering had grown up around the crowd as he staggered onto the floor.

The chairwoman stopped speaking looking on in confusion, “Commander, are you alright.”

The human paused at the center of the floor.

IN the main lighting he looked absolutely horrific. He was so pale his skin was almost yellow. The skin around his mouth was red. Sweat drenched the side of his face. He was drooling so badly that it was, at this point, impossible to control.

“The...food…. Has been poisoned.” He choked out through heaving breaths.

And then he collapsed to his knees vomiting violently on the white marble floor.

The entire delegation stood shock and uproar filling the room. Krill ran over to help the human whose arms and hands were shaking as he tried to hold himself up.

The sight was horrifying. Saliva dripped in strings from his mouth. His clothing and hands were stained pink from the orb fruit from earlier. 

Krill remembered he said it tasted weird.

Could he really have been poisoned.

A couple other human delegates vaulted over the railings and onto the floor grabbing the man by the arms as his strength began to fail him. His body was shaking violently now.

Krill practically scream ordered one of the assistance to grab a medical kit.

The entire room was in an uproar.

Krill jammed his finger at the Iotin representatives, “Don’t let them leave!”

The Iotins stood in shock as the delegation turned on them. The Drev delegation, weaponless, still managed to make a circle around the group, “Someone, go grab the food, and get me a sample!”

The commander had been rolled onto his side. His body continued to reject whatever toxin it had been given, though Krill desperately tried to avoid him aspirating and choking. That only got harder once the man began to cease and convulse. He had to reduce the absorption, but he also needed to keep the man from throwing it back up.

His kit was open on the floor, and he had the others help him With the tubes and medication. Adam wouldn’t be helping him now, so he would have to get directly to the stomach himself.

He had one of the other humans hold him as he inserted the tube and began with the activated charcoal. Hopefully that would be enough before they got test results back. One of the Rundi came sprinting into the room holding one of the pink orbs handing it over to one of Krill’s assistants who was ordered to test the fruit with one of the testing strips.

They did as told and the entire group waited for the results.

When the strip turned blue, krill knew what it was. 

It was at least similar to some toxins he had seen before and attacked the central nervous system in humans through absorption in the gut. The dosage had been too high however, and while the human could potentially choke to death, much of the toxin had already been rejected by the body.

“Someone cut open his sleeve.”

The uniform was ignored as the sleeve was cut open and Krill placed an IV reaching into his kit for the antitoxin.

“You…. Just have that lying around?” one of the other humans asked.

Krill nodded, “I work with humans. I expect them to ingest stupid things that could kill them on a regular basis.”

He was calm on the outside like a doctor should be, but on the inside he was panicking horribly. The commander was not looking good.

But he placed the IV and made the injection.

“Someone test the other food. I want to know if this was planned for just the humans or for the entire delegation.

His orders were quickly followed, and they found the toxin in almost every dish that had been in the banquet hall. 

“You should be glad it was the human who took it first.” Krill was saying 

“Why is that?” The chairwoman asked 

“Because, the human body is the only one that would have noticed the poisoning before it was too late. The human brain responds to toxins that affect the central nervous system with dizziness and nausea. For any other species, you would have been dead before the symptoms kicked in.”  On the floor the human convulsions had stopped. His heart rate was depressed now, but krill was keeping an eye on it.

The Iotins were still looking around in panic as the Drev glowered at them.

“What is the meaning of this.” Their leader called.

Krill turned on them anger in every line of his body, “We saw one of you leaving the room before we entered, and they were in a hurry. So forgive me if I am a little suspicious.” 

More uproar, but the Drev kept the delegates in check.

‘Come on, Commander.” rill muttered 

If he was going to wake up, it would be in the next few minutes if only for a little bit.

One of the other humans had ripped open his uniform jacket removing his tie and pulling the coat off discarded to the side. Krill was more than grateful for their help. Even more pleased when the commander opened his eyes bleary, his pupils almost back to normal.

“What… happened.” He slurred 

“Congratulations, sir, you saved the entire delegation from death by poisoning. You’re a hero.”

He groaned, “I don’t feel like one.” he leaned his head back onto the floor, “Catch the bastards who did this for me will you.” He licked his lips, “I’m gonna pass out again.” 

And he did as promised.

Once again the human body had managed to save the day.

Because as it turns out humans are actually a lot harder to poison that one might first assume. Give them to high of a dose, and they will throw it up, give them too low of a dose and it won’t kill them. Plus the human body is very good at letting everyone know when something is wrong.

It is especially difficult to poison a human when their best friend is an experienced doctor.

Whoever had done this, had not succeeded in their end goal.

And they wouldn't likely be free for long. 

[samanthalightning]

She's Got A Date-EoWells X Allen!reader- Part V

*The GIF is not mine. All rights to the owner*

Part IV

Summary: While you face a relationship dilemma, you must help Barry stop The Mist from coming after your adoptive father. Based on 1x03

Warnings: None

***

You submerged your face in the water on your hands. The coolness temporarily eased the sting in your eyes. You turn off the faucets, you grab some tissues and dab them on your face to dry. You stared at yourself in the mirror; you were starting to look fine. The puffiness of your eyes ease, your eyes are still bloodshot red, but it was better.

It had been hours since that fight happened, and you have washed your face for the hundredth time today. Each time you think about it, you cry despite trying hard not to, and lucky you, it's all you can think about.

You reapplied your lipstick and mascara, and left the restroom. You walked down the hallway to come back to the cortex. You rounded a corner, but your feet quickly halted when a figure popped up to avoid collision.

It was him. You both froze, staring at each other. He could have swore, he saw a flicker of hurt and coldness in your eyes, before you lowered your head down when his stare became intense. This wasn't the first you crossed paths today. It's his building and you work here, though it didn't mean it got easier. It's always awkward and uneasy.

He didn't speak or move, so you figured you would be the one who needs to do it.

"Excuse me," you whispered, walking ahead passing by him.

"Y/N, wait." You stopped in your tracks and formed a fist. Although you didn't turn around. "We need to talk,"

"We already did. There's no need to further discuss it and make it worse." You didn't dare let him respond, and walked away rapidly away from him, not skipping a beat until you reached the cortex.

You quickly took a seat beside Cisco and buried your head on the computer, typing as you finished a report. Your thoughts ran, a sudden furious rage boiling in your veins. You couldn't believe how ironic it is that earlier he didn't want to talk about it, and now he does. It just infuriates you so hard, so hard and murder him with your bare hands.

"Woah, woah, you okay?" Cisco's voice pulled you out of your spiral.

You paused, fingertips ghosting the keyboard. You didn't even realize you were typing audibly, angrily. "Yeah. Just itching to get our meta," you said.

"Okay. Whatever you say," he replied, obviously suspicious and not an ounce convinced. None of them were if you're being honest. Especially Barry. He was very concerned, but it occurred to him that this might be regarding your mystery boyfriend, so he reluctantly kept his distance.

Wells came back. You can feel his eyes boring at you. You pretended to be oblivious, but it bothered you. Deeply.

Abruptly, a ping coming from the computer echoed in the room. It was the analysis on the toxin. Cisco was quick to call Barry and Caitlin, who God knows where to come to the cortex immediately.

They arrived moments later.

"Yo, check this out."

You all huddled up in front of the TV, waiting for someone to explain the result.

"We have identified the toxin," Wells said, clicking the screen of his tablet. The analysis results popped up on the screen.

"Hydrogen Cyanide?" Barry's brows furrowed.

"Well, what's interesting is what mixed in with the cyanide— a sedative," he added.

Your head cocked to the side, confused more than ever. You're no Caitlin, but that sounded odd. Never in your life have you heard those chemical compounds being mixed before— hell, even in being in the same sentence.

You turned to Barry to ask. His demeanor changed from being in serious thought to his eyes lighting up in recognition. A hand flew to his forehead, turning to Caitlin.

"The night of the explosion— find out if anyone was executed," he ordered.

Caitlin nodded and headed to the nearest computer.

"Why?" Wells asked, beating you to it.

"That sedative was given to criminals on death row before they go into the gas chamber, and breathe in cyanide," he explained.

That was one hell of a fact.

"There was someone executed— Kyle Nimbus," Caitlin informed.

A tab of his background and records popped up. And yup, he does look like someone crazy. Bald, pale skin, huge bags under his eyes. Just add a crooked smile and he could be the missing son of the Grinch and Penguin.

"That's him," Barry confirmed.

"He was a hit man for the Darbinyan crime family. They turned on him and testified. Judge Teresa Howard was the judge at his trial. She sentenced him to death."

It makes sense why he was hell bent on killing these people. The irony of his life though. Karma really is a bitch.

"He said there's one more on his list. Check the arrest records; who caught him, that could be his next attack," he walked towards her, and you trailed after him, dumbfounded.

There was too much information all at once, and Barry's the only one who's putting two and two together as fast as he runs.

You watched as Caitlin's eyes widened in horror. Her face blanched, glancing up at you and Barry, as if she had seen a ghost. It made you a little worried and anxious. The pit of your stomach knotting, as you swallowed thickly. Whatever information she got a hold of isn't good.

"Barry, the lead detective..."

Your heart dropped. Your mind quickly thinks of one person: Joe. Your thoughts ran wildly. You refused to believe it's him.

"Cait, who is it?" You asked, shakily.

"It's Joe."

You let out a gasp, panic surged through you. It felt like the world collapsed, your worry escalating into another level.

Next thing you knew, Barry was on his cell, both of you pacing back and forth, while he tried to reach Joe. Each time he took his phone off his ear, not able to reach him, he grew more frustrated. And so were you.

"He's not answering,"

"Call Eddie, maybe he knows," you suggested.

He took your advice and dialled him. You held your breath, anxiously waiting for the end of the ringing noise from Barry's phone.

"Eddie!" You immediately moved to Barry's side. "Hey, do you know where Joe went? He's not picking up his cell."

You placed your ears near and listened carefully. He paused, then said he didn't know.

"Eddie, it's really important I speak to him. I need to know where he went." Barry pleaded, evidently desperate.

Eddie must have picked it up. You heard an audible sigh from him through the phone. Eddie said he's in Iron Heights. That must have been why he's not picking up.

"Thanks, Eddie." Barry ended the call, and went to the team. "He's in Iron Heights, he's in Iron Heights because of me,"

Your brows drew together. If the toxins results didn't make sense, so is Barry right now. "What? Why?"

"I'll explain later," he said, running off to Caitlin.

She developed an antidote from the toxin, in case Barry didn't make it in time to stop Nimbus. Barry put on his suit, and faster than a blink of eye, he sped off, leaving a red streak of lights behind and a gust of strong wind blowing through your hair.

You took a seat and behind a computer to do your designated job. You pray to God Barry gets there before Nimbus does.

"Barry, I pulled up the specs on Iron Heights prison with maximum security, but I think I can talk you through breaking in there," he said, as he took a seat beside you.

You chortled, shaking your head. Your brother is probably doing the same thing right now. Cisco looked at you confused and a little offended.

"No bother. I've been figuring out how to break in that place since I was 11,"

Damn right he was. He used to get in trouble with Joe because of that, and you'll get a warning to think twice before pulling the same stunt. Barry still continuously, persistently did it. Eventually, he got older and no one has to call Joe about a minor trying to sneak in to see his Dad.

In a snap, it dawned on you. That's what Barry meant. Your Dad was the reason Joe was in Iron Heights. As to why, you wondered. Joe never once visited the man; he strongly believes that your Dad killed your Mom, it doesn't make sense why he would want to see him after all those years.

Your thoughts were pushed in the back of your mind, seeing Barry was inside the prison. You all cowered in silence, anxiety prickling your very existence. Your heart beating fast like you ran a hundred miles, you fingers were trembling. You took them off the keyboard, and hid them under the desk, clenching and unclenching it repeatedly.

You tried to keep it together, itching to hear Barry's voice, saying Joe's fine. You already lost your parents, you can't lose another one.

You felt a warm, large hand on your formed fist, fingers wrapping it securely with a squeeze. Your head shot up to the man in glasses beside you, stunned. Not that you just had the biggest fight ages ago, but your colleagues are literally sandwiching the two of you.

He gave a soft, assuring smile. And you appreciated it deeply. You opened your palm, intertwining your fingers with his. The differences were set aside for a moment, as you hold on to him for dear life.

"Joe's stable," Barry spoke.

The weight on your chest was lifted off. You relaxed for a second only to be reminded that there's still a meta-human on the loose that desperately needs some ass-kicking.

According to Barry, Nimbus transformed into a mist again, and Caitlin advised him to stay away, do not breathe him I'm. As weird as that sounds, it was the only way to avoid inhaling cyanide, and he might not be so lucky again.

But it was very obvious that it wasn't easy; the man is literally air.

"Guys, I don't think this is helping me,"

"You can't fight him, Barry. Just..." Caitlin paused to think. "...keep him coming at you, that should sap his strength."

Wells nodded in agreement. "Yes. Gas is the least stable form of matter— this meta-human will not be able to stay in this mist form, his particles will need to reform."

Barry ran. He ran farther and farther away from the prison. He takes quick stops, before running again.

Your eyes peered over to Caitlin's computer to check on his vitals. His heart rate elevated a bit, but everything was fine. Although he wasn't updating or saying anything it's starting to worry you.

Wells, clearly worried, leaned over and grabbed the mic. "Barry?" He called him. There was only silence on the other end. "Barry?" He called again, louder and firmer.

"We win,"

You all sighed with relief. Your eyes fluttered close, as you lean back into your seat and roll your head back. You squeezed him, you looked at him as a grateful smile spread across your face.

Barry brought Nimbus to S.T.A.R Labs, and left to go to the hospital. You stayed behind to see how well you did with makeshift prison, and get some satisfaction by watching him go crazy to find a way out.

You stood by the entrance of the pipeline with the team, watching the door slide down in front of a very angry Kyle Nimbus, pounding on the glass, constantly morphing into gas to escape his cell. The dummy didn't actually think you'd seal it.

"So, we just have to get used to working above a makeshift prison," Caitlin commented.

"Yup," you replied.

It's surreal. You can't still quite grasp the fact that you built a prison, and it's weird to see someone actually imprisoned inside. He deserved it, yes, but it's still weird.

Everyone turned to shuffle back to the cortex. Cisco pulled Caitlin aside. It looks like they have something to talk about, and by the look on Cisco's face, it's probably serious.

Your eyes flickered to Wells, who was surprisingly staring at you too. You locked eyes, realizing things had wind down— Nimbus is apprehended, and no meta-human to worry about for the time being. You don't know what's going to happen, where you both stand; if the relationship still exists, but one thing is for certain: it was time to address it and deal with it.

He tilted his head to the side, gesturing to go outside, before leaving the room.

You followed him, trailing behind him in the hallway. You dreaded every step you took, you heart racing fast under your ribs, and for many times today, your stomach churned, nervous.

You didn't know where he was leading you. You never really wandered around this area. The hallway is like a never ending maze; just no twist and turns. It was long and quiet and dark. If he was some dude, you would think that he's luring you to kill you.

You were about to ask him where you both were going, but he stopped. You both stood in front of a door. Nothing special about it, just a door. He twisted the knob and opened it. He took a step aside to let you in first and you obliged.

The lights automatically turned on, shedding lights on the room contents. Shelves containing boxes and some other covered things lined up across the room. It's another storage room. The dust isn't disgustingly obvious yet, but it hasn't been touched in a while. Probably since last year.

"We have another storage room?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. This was used when we were building the accelerator," he explained, closing the door behind him.

This is not the most ideal place to talk, but it's secluded and quiet and hidden. Given the fight earlier, all those three are a must.

You spun around to him, folding your arms, awkwardly waiting for him to speak first.

"So?" He started.

"So?"

He exhaled sharply, pursing his lips. "I thought about what you said, and..." He trailed off. A lump forming in your and you gulped in anticipation, watching him be lost for words. It was like those heart stopping moments in class just before your teacher passed your papers, scared of what your mark would be, except on this one, there's only two of you. This would not just affect the future, but potentially break your heart.

He stammered. " I don't— I don't want to lose you. I love you and you were right." Your mouth went dry. You were rendered speechless. Not a single word you could utter, staring at him in shock. You didn't expect that one. Scared that might not convince you, he added, "I mean it. I couldn't risk losing you."

Emotions barrelling through you. You kept it together, not wanting to broke down immediately.

"What about the press?"

"They'll leave us alone eventually," he answered.

"Your haters?"

He chuckled lightly. "They'll forget about it."

"And Joe?" The smile on his face faded, aware of the seriousness of that name.

"We'll deal with it. But I'm pretty sure he'll be happy for you,"

You lowered your head, looking down at your feet.

"Y/N?"

You glanced up, your demeanor stern as you looked into his eyes. "Are you sure? You might be just saying this right now, but you might regret—"

"The only thing I will regret is letting you walk away. I lost a lot of things last year, and I don't want you to be part of it. You mean so much to me,"

Your heart was cracked open. You were in awe of his declaration. Today was a tough one, and it will be on some days, but you certainly knew you would be a damn fool to let him go.

Although, it doesn't hurt to rile him up a bit. You maintain a stoic expression for a period of time, which ended very soon because you couldn't help it anymore.

"Damn it," you hissed.

You went to him, cupped his cheek and pulled his lips to yours. He responded quickly. His lips move passionately against yours, pouring all emotions into the kiss. Your stomach flutters in realization how vulnerable and raw this moment is. It was like he's opening up and he didn't have to say anything. Everything disappeared for a while. He clutched your arm, pressing you closer to this warmth.

You pulled away reluctantly, panting. You leaned your forehead against his.

"I love you," you whispered to him.

"I love you too,"

He drew closer to kiss you again, but you withdrew. You gritted your teeth, looking at him nervously.

"I think we should tell them tonight,"

***

Uh Oh. How do you think they'll react?

Anyway, I'd appreciate if you share this and give it love. Thanks!

Part VI

[melforbes]

seaglass blue annotations

hello! i just posted the last chapter and thought i’d put together some ~fun context~ for that fic. it got way way more attention than i ever expected and for something i feel i didn’t put that much effort into i think i did in the end put a lot of effort into it so i might as well talk about it and answer some potential questions.

my favorite book of all time is the sunlit night by rebecca dinerstein (yes, that one) and something i find really compelling about that book is how sparing the prose is, forcing the reader to fill in certain gaps, and i think having to fill in those gaps makes the book a really acquired taste with which either you love it or hate it and there’s not really an in-between

i also really adore how in that book the natural world backdrop comes to life, something i find really challenging to write. recently i even read into thin air, the book about the 1996 mount everest disaster, and even though the writing was superb, i still had to google what the hillary step was because i couldn’t picture it on my own. i don’t know how people write nature because to me it feels damn near impossible, but this sparing approach really worked, so i thought i might try it out. i tend to be longwinded (gestures vaguely at this post) and wanted to have certain parts of this be a lot smaller and more contained without negating impact. whether or not i made it work is anyone’s guess. definitely not my normal style, so to speak

based on the comments i’ve received i think this might be everyone’s favorite part. in my mind age of consent by new order was playing in the background. in pretty much every fic i have a scene like this one and all of them are based on the poem first base gold by rh*annon mcg*vin from her book branches (censored because she has a tumblr and i don’t want her seeing this haha)

i absolutely can’t do the poem justice by describing what it’s about, but the simplest, most basic interpretation of the poem is that there is no better place to kiss than right here, right now, because of the past. i really like that imagery and tend to use it a lot. she as a writer has been a big inspiration for me and if you’ve read my fic true minds i should add that the nonfiction inspiration for that was directly as a result of one of her youtube videos. i particularly love how the last paragraph (stanza? im not a poet) is one big run-on sentence that’s jovial and tongue-in-cheek and colloquial and straightforward. it feels triumphant in a quiet way to me and i love how it’s done. obviously my attempts at something similar are nowhere near as insightful, but still, the most basic image of this is that there is no better place to kiss, and that’s how i felt about the two of them finding pudding in the supermarket

this part is autobiographical; while writing this last year, i went through six months of intravenous drug treatment, a month and a half of which involved long days of doctor visits on every weekday. when you’re on stuff like that for a long time you end up with a central line for better access (potential plot hole in all of this: scully never had one) but for a month and a half i got poked almost every day and strangely enough it got harder over time. the first couple you never feel, but a week or two later you start flinching, and if the needle goes in the same vein each time, it hurts the more it gets prodded. i reached a point toward the end of the in-office visits in which i would bleed a lot every time i got poked, and i can’t watch anything like that happen to me so i was looking away each time, and when i felt that the nurse was done, i would look back over, and sometimes i would be looking down at a pool of blood that i hadn’t expected to see. it’s weird, you don’t actually feel yourself bleeding, i would’ve expected a hot bloody feeling but instead it felt like nothing. and when i say a pool i mean that it would drip down beneath my elbow, stain the sheet they’d put underneath, and i wouldn’t get all of it off until i showered. i didn’t necessarily find it scary, but it was surreal and kind of pulled me out of normalizing the experience i was having. for a very long time needing iv drugs was my greatest fear and i was surrounded by that then and fine, and then, there was blood all over my arm, and like, haha, this is actually not fine. you’d think something else would’ve been scarier, but it wasn’t. and now looking back at this paragraph i wish i’d edited it differently but hey that’s life

i’d never really understood the purpose of religion as a self-driven part of life until i took anatomy in college. i was raised catholic and though culturally i understand having a religion and being raised with one, i’ve never really reached for religion when i wanted answers, and i haven’t personally understood why that’s someone’s first option. and i know there’s been plenty of commentary on the hypocrisy of dana scully as a catholic who believes in science, yada yada yada, i think everyone has read all of that by now. but what struck me while learning anatomy is that there is a kind of neuron we don’t know the function of. there are four kinds of neurons, and one of them is still a mystery to us. and then, there’s all of these different parts of human bodies that exist in a certain perfect way, but why do they exist like that? to support life, yes, but why is it that we can make comparisons? why were irises not the same color? and we name valves of the heart after religious figures. we are so hell-bent on meaning that something literal will never be enough. and all of that made me think that dana scully has god to fill in what science won’t answer, at least not yet. and there’s definitely a bigger conversation about science as denial of indigenous cultures that i am nowhere near qualified to start. after taking those classes, i think i would be more shocked if she wasn’t religious. you can ignore pretty much all of the paragraph above but it was important to me that at some point in this fic she willingly conceded that she didn’t know what would happen and that she didn’t have answers. with illness, there is no logic, there’s no thinking your way out of it, and i think that would plague her for a long time. to me, she only would accept her death when she could say she had no idea what would happen, she has no answers, there’s nothing filling in her gaps anymore, and she’s comfortable with that. and i put all of that in a paragraph about my thoughts on god because it made sense to me. there are times that just feel like you’re in a movie and there’s no one else you can say caused them. it’s not enough to build belief on but it’s enough to bring a certain kind of wonder. also one time my parents insisted on watching stripes because it was so funny and when watching it none of us found it funny at all and my parents grimaced and were like what were we on that made that good back in the day so that’s in here now haha

and now, the biggest question: does she die at the end? when i came up with the idea for this fic, i knew the beginning and ending but not the middle, and i posted this as a smaller project (ie: chapters below 3,000 words) while illness made my bigger projects harder to work on and essentially flew by the seat of my pants the whole time. i wrote the last line a long long time ago and have always seen the ending as written as the concrete ending. when i started writing this, i never intended for there to be a definitive answer to whether or not she dies. i like premature endings (the ending of girls burn brighter comes to mind) and i think that this works better without saying whether or not she lives. and i also have a hard time with giving a definitive answer because this fic very much is about death and having her die would, of course, be traumatic, but showing her living instead i think ruins any takeaways people could have. i’ve never had cancer but as a chronically ill person i think i can speak to how you never actually win with illness; the best you can do is tie, and sometimes, no matter how much effort you put in, you “lose” anyway, you lose spectacularly, and all of your effort was for nothing. i wholeheartedly believe that humans can’t emotionally or logically process natural disasters or illness, hence why much of the talk about illness in this is from mulder’s perspective as he experiences her terminal illness secondhand; that way, he doesn’t need to (but still likely will) find logic or reason or meaning for death from a terminal illness, so his discoveries and his coping mechanisms aren’t as urgently needed. had i written a chapter that describes how she lives, i think that the discussion of death in this would be voided altogether. and i also don’t believe the ending would be much different whether she lives or dies; there’s still the need for death acceptance and talking about dying, whether or not she lives, and none of the story in this fic would have happened had the characters known she would live. the whole point is not knowing.

for a little while i toyed with writing an unofficial sequel of sorts in which i spelled out what i think happens after the ending, but after realizing that that would end up being longer than the original fic and would also have some massive plot holes, i decided against it. i do have my own version and i don’t want to share that version because i never really intended for my version to be some kind of genuine sequel in which every question gets answered and everything is wrapped up and happy ever after and whatnot. it was just where my brain wandered in the same way it wanders when i watch an open-ended movie. all of that to say, if you think she lives, then she lives. if you think she dies, then she dies. it’s your decision. i’d much rather you choose than me. i never marked this as “major character” death on ao3 because, well, she doesn’t die in this fic. whether or not she dies after the fic ends, that’s for you to decide. 

thank you for taking the time to read my writing. i never expected this to blow up (it blew up for me at least, for a while it was my most popular fic ever, with i think thousands more hits than anything else i’d written) and the response has been mind-boggling and wonderful. i don’t respond to comments often because it makes me feel like a pompous jerk (”thank you for enjoying this! i, too, enjoy this thing i have written! oh ho ho!” is how it sounds to me in my head, whereas when other writers respond to comments to me it just looks like thanks man have a good day, feel free to call me a weenie) but i’ve appreciated all of them very much. THANK YOU! i hope your new year is a Whole Lot Less Shit than 2020. i don’t plan on writing more msr because i don’t really have any ideas for them. thank you for making my last time special <3

[kellbellsparkles]

Chapter 4 of my Ratchet and Clank fanfic "Family"

Ratchet has an emotional reunion with his mother (sort of). Meanwhile, Clank is having extreme anxieties over his quest to fix the time portal issue over what may potentially be sacrificed

On the scene, Edith pushed herself up from off of Jerry.

"I'm so sorry!" she blurted. "Are you hurt?" Jerry sat himself up and turned to the camera.

"Did you get all that?" He asked the camera man as he pointed to his helmet. "Point given and taken."

Upon taking a breath, Edith got a better look at who she landed on.

"A kerchu? Wait…."

Her eyes widened in a state of panic; she franticly swung her head back and forth.

"Where am I?" she asked shakily. She then let out a horrified gasp. "Warren!! Where's Warren?? My baby!!"

"Your what now?" Jerry said in a perplexed tone.

"My baby boy!" Edith cried out as the camera panned towards her. "He has golden fur and light brown stripes like his father! Green eyes! And a onesie that makes him look naked but he's not really naked!" Her hands trembled terribly.

"I-I only left him for a second to get coffee! We were in our house! Then Percival! The ceiling!"

"Easy, easy," Jerry said, waving his hands in an up and down motion. "Let's take a deep breath now. Once you're settled, you can give an accurate depiction of your son to the police so they can help you find him."

"I don't even know where I am!" Edith wailed, breaking out into a sob. "Or if he's even here or back home in the chaos!"

Ratchet hopped out of his ship, Aphelion, the moment she landed. He pushed through the gathering crowd with Talwyn not far behind him.

"Everyone stay back," he ordered. "I'll handle this. Lombax to lombax."

He carefully approached Edith with Clank; he dropped from his back to let him take the lead.

"Ma'am?" he said as he knelt to her level. "It's okay. I can help you."

Edith turned to face Ratchet. She suddenly broke out into more tears and grabbed onto his arms.

"Kaden!" she hollered. "I lost Warren! It's all my fault!'

Ratchet froze, his furs standing on end. Kaden, the same name as his father. Clank and Talwyn were equally stunned and increasingly anxious.

"Um," Clank spoke. "Pardon me, but which Kaden do you mean?"

"My husband!" Edith sobbed. "Our son! I couldn't protect him!"

Ratchet felt a lump rise in his throat.

"Oh man…."

Edith rose her head. Through the veil of her tears, she saw that something wasn't quite right. She reached for Ratchet's cheeks and grasped them gently. Ratchet was too petrified to do anything about it even as she stroked them.

"You're not Kaden," she said weakly. "But you look like…."

She abruptly collapsed in his arms.

"H-Hey!" he said, startled. "Stay with me!"

Talwyn looked on with grave concern in her eyes. Ratchet stood up, carefully lifting Edith in his strong arms.

"Come on," he said. "We need to go where we'll have more privacy."

Ratchet walked past the growing crowd, darting glares if they came too near. Talwyn and Clank followed close behind acting as a barrier. As they approached Aphelion, something compelled Clank to turn around. He saw little gleaming particles from where Edith fell. He grasped his stomach again, the ache growing stronger.

"Clank!" Ratchet called out desperately. "Hurry up!"

"Apologies!" Clank squeaked. He leapt into the cockpit with Ratchet and Talwyn. Ratchet sat in the back holding Edith firmly in his lap.

"Aphelion," he said heavily. "Set a course for Torren IV. Please."

"Of course," she said. "I certainly didn't expect to see another lombax again."

As Aphelion rose into the air and took off, Ratchet held onto Edith tighter.

"Clank," he said in a low tone.

"Yes, Ratchet?" he asked stiffly.

"You can scan species and identify them, right? Can you run DNA tests, too?"

"I believe so."

"Come here."

Clank hopped up to the top of his seat to meet Ratchet's gaze. His face was contorted with an array of confusion that could give way to tears at any moment.

"I need to know the truth," he pleaded.

Clank heeded his friend's call immediately. He glided to his side with the helipack.

"I think single strands of fur is all I need," he said. Ratchet plucked a hair from his cheek and Edith's and gave them to Clank. He popped them in his mouth.

"While we are waiting for the results to reveal themselves to me," Clank said. "There is something you should know, Ratchet." He leaned his head back onto the padded cushioning.

"Last night, Sigmund contacted me to tell of a phenomenon where the dimensional rift caused by the dimensionator ignited a series of time portals appearing across the universe. The woman here with us must have fallen through one of them."

"So that's what we saw happen on the TV," Talwyn said in realization.

Ratchet glanced over the fainted lombax, carefully and in awe. She wore a sleeveless snow white dress that gave off a princess feeling, something that only ever appeared in fairy tales.

"She's still breathing," he said quietly. "And she looks so young. Maybe even younger than me."

A light chime echoed from Clank.

"I have the results now," Clank said. "It says that there is a 99.97% chance she is your mother."

Talwyn looked towards Ratchet as Aphelion was on autopilot. Her heart dropped as she worried for what he was currently going through. Ratchet hung his head over Edith's.

"Oh," he mouthed.

He cradled her head gently. He bunted his forehead with hers, wishing he could remember a similar experience, but it was only a dream that just became reality. Everyone sat in silence the rest of the way to their destination.

The destination was where Ratchet first met Alister Azimuth, a secluded hut based in the mountains where he hid from bounty hunters and persecutors alike. Aphelion landed besides its mouth so they can step easily into the resting area.

"Ratchet," Talwyn said as the cockpit opened. "Are you sure no one will find us here?"

"It kept Alister safe for however many years," Ratchet said. "And the vullards never ratted him out."

"Then why does it look like it's still being kept?" Talwyn asked as she stepped onto the platform. For an unoccupied space, there wasn't a speck of dust to be seen.

"Vullards are habitual cleaners?" Ratchet guessed as he carried Edith with him onto the platform. "Who cares right now?"

He turned back towards Aphelion, waiting for Clank to join them. Clank stared back with a wide, timid stare.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Ratchet asked, confused.

"I…." Clank murmured. "I actually need to meet with Sigmund and the Zoni so that the time portals don't get out of hand. They think I am the key somehow. If it is alright with you, may I borrow Aphelion?"

"Sure," Ratchet said. "Just don't push yourself."

"I will try. Please spend time with your mother. It is a miracle that she is here with you."

"Yeah," Ratchet chuckled. "It really is."

Ratchet and Talwyn waved as Clank closed the cockpit and flew away. Out of view from his friend's, Clank hunched over the seat and panted heavily.

"Clank?" Aphelion spoke. "Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes," Clank croaked. However, a thought appeared that greatly haunted him. Would getting the time portal situation under control mean sending Edith back from when she came, too? He coughed suddenly.

"Clank," Aphelion said, perturbed. "This is abnormal behavior for us."

"All I need is to input Sigmund's contact information into your servers," Clank said as he crawled to the control panel. "Once we are at where he wants us to meet, there is something of dire importance I must discuss with him."

Aphelion switched the air conditioning on suddenly.

"What is this?" Clank questioned.

"For good measure," Aphelion responded. "Ratchet did say to not push yourself."

Clank sat himself back down and leaned back.

"He did say that…." He held his hands together and kicked his feet up and down.

"Perhaps you are right," he said. "Everything is going to be fine. It always has. Everything is going to be just fine."

As he repeated those words to himself, he closed his eyes. His arms fell limp to his sides, his feet drooped from the edge of the seat.

[katybeth23]

A/N

Part 3 ( cowboy take me away)

Jacks voices wavered as he was anxious to see Lisa

“It’s nice to meet you Jack, given the circumstances. If you could follow me to my office I’d like to discuss your wife’s condition before we go on up to see her”.

Dr Delon had a big smile and Jack felt more at ease as he followed the young doctor down the long corridor.

Once seated in his office the Dr proceeded to fill Jack in on Lisa’s accident and condition.

“This was a very serious accident Jack, your wife was only inches away from direct impact ~ she is lucky to be alive”.

His eyes had a kindness about them as he leant forward over his desk.

“We had to operate in order to stop

some internal bleeding, this took longer than expected. She has a fractured left wrist, some cuts and bruises and a mild concussion, but aside from that your Mrs Bartlett is a very lucky woman”.

He smiled as he saw the look of relief on Jacks face.

“We do want to keep her in for observation though Jack, and we would like to run some more tests over the next few days”, he paused to re read over his notes.

“She has been unwell on and off the entire trip according to her Aunt, so we just want to investigate more throughly if that’s ok with you both?”.

Lisa had told Jack about the stomach virus she had, but what she failed to mention was that it had been bothering her for the entire trip?

“Your wife was quite dehydrated when she arrived so we just want to rule out a few things such as; a serious intestinal virus, pregnancy, an infection of some sort”

Jack chuckled to himself

“Well doc I’m pretty sure it won’t be the second one; given Lisa’s age”. ( she was due to turn 50 in less than a month).

“But I appreciate the care you are giving her and am leaving it in your capable hands, so please do for whatever you need to”.

Dr Delon rose from his desk and gestured towards his door;

“This way Jack”.

He pointed towards the administration desk and down the hall.

“I know someone who is very egar to see you”.

Through all the worry he had felt these past 24 hours , the feeling of absolute relief when he laid eyes on Lisa had finally caught up with Jack.

As Dr Delon left them alone all Jack could do was breakdown and sob as he laid his head gently on Lisa’s lap.

Tears trickled down her cheeks as she ran her fingers through his thick grey hair.

Before now Lisa had been niaeve as to just how close she had come to never touching him again, hearing his voice, inhaling his scent. As she felt the rise and fall of his chest, Lisa knew in her heart that this would be the last overseas trip she would make.

Heartland was where she wanted to be; it was at home with Jack that Lisa was needed most. It was what SHE needed more than anything.

Slowly Jack lifted his head and looked into those piercing blue eyes he had missed so much.

“Oh Lise” his voice barely audible

“I have never been so frightened in my entire life as I was these past couple of days”.

Lisa’s soft hand touched his unshaven cheek

“I don’t know what I would have done if...”

“Shhhhhh ; I know, and I’m so sorry Jack”

Lisa too couldn’t contain her emotions any longer.

“I should never have gone away; and I promise you, I won’t ever be doing it again”.

She looked up at the ceiling, nose scrunched, trying her darndest not to breakdown.

“My place is at home with you; I’ve done what I needed to do and I’ve seen all I want to see”

she smiled lovingly at Jack as she wiped away a stray tear.

Soon they were both fast asleep, the last 24 hours ~ No in fact the last 8 weeks had exhausted the two of them past belief and in each other’s presence was the only place they could both truly rest.

The family were all relieved to hear Jacks voice as he relayed the news of Lisa’s condition and reassured them there was nothing to worry about and they would both be back home in no time.

He had woken about 2 hours after they had drifted off, Lisa continued to sleep peacefully. Jack watching her contently, only leaving her side to phone home.

When he returned to the room after calling Heartland he noticed Lisa’s bed was empty. A few moment later she exited her hospital bathroom. Jack noticed almost instantly the weight she had lost whilst she had been away, she smiled tiredly as she watched his eyes travel up down her body.

“You ok Lise” he asked softly

“The Doc said you have had the stomach upset almost the entire trip?”

Lisa noticed the concern in his voice.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He rubbed her back softly.

She sighed, knowing full well she should have told Jack just how unwell she had been feeling; but decide, for his sake to play it down a little.

“I know I should have told you, and I’m sorry”; tiredness still overwhelmed Lisa’s body.

“I didn’t want to worry you and really honey I’m fine, the doctor thinks it’s an intestinal bug { that are not uncommon whilst travelling } which they will run some more tests for, then treat it with some strong antibiotics”.

Lisa sat back on the bed as Jack helped her into a more comfortable position. He pulled a large hospital chair as close to the side of her bed as he could and within minutes Lisa had closed her eyes and had nuzzled her way into the crook of Jacks broad shoulder.

“It won’t be anything long term Jack”

her voice dropping off

“Just a bug that will clear up with some medication and a few changes in di”....

But before she could finish her sentence Lisa was fast asleep,snoring softly.

Jack chuckled quietly to himself as he recalled the numerous times Lisa had adamantly denied that she ever snored, getting quite ardent about it on a number of occasions when he brought it up.

His smile broadened because Jack didn’t mind, he was just happy to have her within arms reach, safely sleeping beside him again. Nothing could ever be better than this moment he thought to himself.

It was a little past 8 pm and visiting hours were due to finish up.

Jack felt awful at the thought of being seperated from Lisa again; he had assured the staff that he was more than happy to sleep in a chair just as long as he could be with her.

Although it wasn’t usually allowed, with the approval of Dr Delon the staff brought in another hospital bed which they pushed up beside Lisa’s so Jack could sleep next to her.

Lisa has become teary at the thought of Jack having to leave and was quite overcome with the hospitals kind gesture.

They lay together, side by side after almost 9 weeks apart and although Jack had always been adamant that his bed was he ONLY place he was comfortable, he had come to realise that it was actually NEXT to Lisa that he felt most rested.

She lay there in Jacks arms as he discussed with her Wills health scare, at times becoming emotional at the thought of how close he had come to losing his oldest friend; and Lisa just listened,Jack needed to let it all out. At times Lisa would run her fingers softly across Jacks chest, placing a small kiss on his hand that was placed tenderly over hers.

The time apart had clearly taken its toll on both of them.

The following day Lisa spent the morning going through all her tests Richard Delon had booked; these included bloods, urine, an MRI and ultrasound. It’s was a tiring process and he apologised profusely for the amount of poking and prodding that was being done.

He did however assure Lisa that these investigations would give him the answers he needed to treat her chronic upset stomach and then, most importantly she and Jack could return home.

“If it’s what I suspect Lisa”

Dr Delon had popped into Lisa’s room to check on her after her busy morning;

“Then you will possibly need 2-3 more days in hospital on IV antibiotics, and if that works the way I anticipate it will then by the weekend we can discharge you home with follow up oral medication”.

He beamed as he saw both their reactions to the mention of ‘Home’.

“I will stress to you though Lisa that this medication will need to be taken for up to 4 weeks with the possibility of 6 as I suspect it’s a nasty bug, and you will need to start slowly your foods, keeping clear of anything diary for at least a week or more”.

Jack rested his hand on Lisa’s lap.

“Thanks Doc, don’t you worry she’s in good hands”

He glanced across at Lisa and noticed she was watching him, eyes shining, lips slightly pursed they way they did when she was proud.

“Oh I have no doubt about that Jack”

was Dr Delon’s cheerful reply;

“Now if you’ll both excuse me I’ll go and chase up these results. I’ll be back shortly”

As he exited Lisa’s room he turned and gave them a smile.

As he had intended Dr Delon returned a few hours later with news on Lisa’s tests ; however neither he or his fellow colleagues had anticipated the results that came back.

As he entered Lisa’s room there was something slightly different about him Jack noticed.

He couldn’t put a finger on it and it didn’t necessarily concern him, but it bothered him all the same.

“How old are you Jack if you don’t mind me asking”

Richard Delon smiled at the older man as he made his request

“I’ll be 71, no sorry 72 in August”

Jack had to stop and think for a moment.

He laughed out loud.

“When you get to my age Doc, it’s sometimes hard to remember”

he winked at the much younger man sitting across from him.

[shibuemiyuu]

Desires - Hakuoki Fanfiction - Chapter 12

Hello guys!

What will Sannan do in this chapter??

Let’s get on to the next chapter! Less rambling more reading :D

May you enjoy this chapter also ;)

Chapter of the Stories:

Prequel - Prologue - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI

@hijichiweek @kirakirachiizuru

Miyuu

-XII-

Gazing at the backyard covered with the snow, Chizuru continued her current activity, something that she did a lot recently. She would simply sit on the hallway and face the backyard while pondering on her thoughts. She always found herself doing this since she regained her health after the fever.

Although she had insisted to the others that she was fine and not a least bit unwell, none of them (namely the captains and some other members that she was acquainted with in the Shinsengumi) would give her any chores to do. They said that while she was regaining her health, the chores that she usually did had been divided among the other members. She didn't have to exert herself and should just take it easy. Even though she knew that the others' intention was for her well being, she couldn't help but think that the Shinsengumi didn't need her anymore. That thought was stuck on her mind.

'When… did everything go so wrong? Why… had all of this happened?'

The very same thought had lingered in her mind and she always asked these questions as she pondered her thoughts.

'I know it was my fault for all the unfortunate things that happened with the Shinsengumi.'

She blamed herself most of the time.

'Do I become a bother to them? Should I leave the Shinsengumi then?'

And in the end, she always reached the same conclusion.

'But I don't want to leave the Shinsengumi. It is not only because of my situation with him.' She remembered all the things that happened since the first time she joined the force till now. 'This place…. It's my home. But, can I stay with them?'

She felt her chest tighten and it nearly made her feel suffocated. The anguished feeling, not to mention the guilt that hadn't gone away since the incident in Nishihongwanji would slip in when she was alone to think.

She tried to be strong. She tried to always have a positive mind. She tried to always look forward. She tried and tried….

'Do I have a right to stay with them after all of the things that happened because of me?'

Many men of the Shinsengumi had lost their lives in Kazama's attack.

Then the monstrous thing that her so-called father had made, the one that he claimed was done for her, for the Yukimura clan, was slowly devouring the Shinsengumi. Not to mention the assassination of Itou Kashitarou. The previous advisor of the Shinsengumi knew about the Rasetsu and ochimizu matters. The assassination resulted in even more injured men than Kazama's attack on the Shinsengumi, during the Aburano Koji incident.

She closed her eyes.

She remembered that he hadn't answer that question when she asked him before. Did he dodge the question because he didn't want to make her feel any more worthless then she felt right now? Or was it because she was sick that he couldn't tell her in his usual blunt way that no, she couldn't stay with the Shinsengumi any longer and had to leave as soon as possible? If the one that she met that night had been the oni-fukuchou persona, she had no doubt that he would have told her to leave the force and compound. Sick or not.

But the one that she had met and that had stayed with her all the night (she knew he did stay) was the man that she found herself in love with. The caring and affectionate man that had made love to her that night in Shimabara.

When she met with Hijikata later, he never mentioned or addressed that 'particular' question. It was as if she had never asked him or he had never heard the question. For one, she didn't ask him the question again. She didn't know why the courage that she had when she asked him that question had gone somewhere else. In fact, she felt relieved that he didn't bring up the matter anymore. Maybe she was scared of the answer – of being told that she had to go away from the Shinsengumi.

Away from her home…

'Away from him…'

The thought of leaving him and her incomplete bond had made her, unconsciously, terrified to the point that she didn't dare to bring up the matter anymore.

She leaned her shoulder on one of the pillars. Her body was not tired; she hadn't even done anything that day except for helping Inoue to wash the dishes. Then again, that was cut off abruptly when Inoue caught Chizuru washing the dishes. She had done it without telling the elder captain. Inoue stopped Chizuru and told her to go back to her room. He didn't want to hear any of the excuses that she had prepared for the man. So no, she was not tired at all.

But her mind was something else. It was at the breaking point. The mental exhaustion and tiredness were being underestimated. It was nearly in the shutting down process. She sighed and gazed back to the backyard.

"I am… tired."

---

Even though the words were said in a soft whisper, he could hear it loud and clear. There was nobody else except her and him. And she didn't know that he stood not far from where she was.

He had watched her since she came out from the kitchen with a dejected expression. He had made it his personal job to watch over her. The fright that he felt when he saw her unconscious in front of him on that day had imprinted itself on his memories.

He was the one that told the others not to give Chizuru any work until further notice. The others (Kondou, all the captains and the rest of the Shinsengumi members) complied with his command. Even if some of the members wanted to ask about the command and were confused by it, no one dared to ask the fukuchou. No, he was not in his oni mode. But the authoritative tone and the aura that he emitted were enough to make people cower.

"He is like a mother hen," said Harada one day. The captains were in the common room. Okita, Sannan and Heisuke also joined in there. Hijikata was on the way to the designated room when he heard the talk.

"He is a mother hen. I almost called him kaa-san once. His nagging was at the point of annoying. If not for the constant coughing, I would surely call him that." That was Okita, remembering one particular day that Hijikata came to his room.

"Sano-san, don't tell me you have just realize it." Heisuke peered at Harada that sat next to him.

"No, I know that he is like that. All of the members know it. But… how should I put it?" Harada scratched the back of his head. He tried to find a suitable word to describe Hijikata's behavior toward Chizuru.

"His actions towards Yukimura-kun are on another level." Kondou put in his thought. "More intense than the ones he used to show."

"Yes, I agree. But… The vibes that I got from him, I've seen and felt it before." Harada still tried to think and get the exact word. "It is on the tip of my tongue."

"Like a master that cares for his favorite servant," Nagakura blurted out suddenly. But before he could finish his words (to tell that he was only joking), he felt the temperature inside the room drop to the lowest level. He also got many sharp glares from all the occupants of the common room.

He knew he was in trouble. But he was oblivious as to the cause of it.

"W-what's with the murder glare?" Nagakura said in nervously.

"It is true that Chizuru is Hijikata-san's page. But she is not a servant, Shinpatsu-san. How can you describe her like that?" Heisuke gave off an ominous aura. Maybe thanks to him becoming a rasetsu his emotions were on the negative side most of the time.

"Heh~~ Didn't know that you thought of Chizuru-chan that way, Shinpachi," Okita said in a singsong tone, but his eyes were looking at Nagakura coldly.

"Where do you put that smart brain of yours when you're not talking about politics, huh? You are better than that Shinpachi." Harada shook his head, looking a bit disappointed.

"Please don't ever put Yukimura-kun and the word servant in the same sentence, Nagakura-kun," Kondou said in the end, displeased with Nagakura's word. "She is one of us and even though she is a girl, I never thought her position is lower than any of you in the Shinsengumi."

Saitou and Inoue nodded their heads, agreeing with Kondou.

"Wait! All of you took me the wrong way! You didn't even let me finish what I want to say! It's only joking you know. I never thought of Chizuru-chan like that! It is just my opinion of how Hijikata-san acts to Chizuru-chan! And I never consider her lower than anyone in here!" Nagakura defended himself, but the others' faces were impassive. Inside, he already felt guilty from what he said. He just blurted out his comment without thinking.

"All the sake that you drank last night must still be in your system and not making you think straight, Shinpachi. I will spar with you after this meeting. Meet me in the dojo later." Saitou looked emotionless. But his tone of voice was promising a thorough beating session for the spar later.

"I know,” Nagakura said dejectedly. “And I'm sorry for what I've said."  Later at night, in one room of the Shinsengumi headquarters, a scream of agony from the sore muscles could be heard from the whole compound. Nagakura learned the hard way to think first before speaking whatever was in his mind.

Nagakura Shinpachi was a smart man but sometimes his mouth had its own mind and would get him into a trouble.

"It is like what a man would do for someone that he has feelings for." Sannan, who had remained quiet the whole time, suddenly spoke. All heads turned to him. "It is like what a lover would do for someone that he worries and cares for."

A pregnant silent stretched inside the common room. And before the conversation could turn further against him, Hijikata stepped into the room and the talk ceased and behaved as if they hadn't just been discussing him. No one asked if he heard what they were talking about before the fukuchou came to the common room.

All the captains in the Shinsengumi somehow knew that Hijikata and Chizuru had a special relationship. But as if they had made a silent agreement, they never talked about the topic out loud. Kondou was the only one that knew the details of what happened between Hijikata and Chizuru. And now, Sannan had said it. They were silent after what Sannan had told them because they knew in their mind that what Sannan had said was true.

Hijikata was a perceptive man. That's why he felt grateful toward his comrades regarding his and Chizuru's situation. They never asked him anything about the matter; except Kondō, but that was also because of his 'stupid antics' and he would never do it again.

It was his problem. He would take full responsibility of the matter. Not to mention that he could feel the urge to always be near Chizuru. The idea of any man getting close to her was not an option.

He wanted her for himself.

Was it lust?

Or was there something deeper in what he felt toward the only woman in the Shinsengumi?

Was it… love?

The thought of the 'l' word made him snort. His position and occupation did not permit him to have the luxury for that kind of thing. He would only bring disaster if he allowed himself to bring that feeling inside the Shinsengumi. He was, after all, the vice commander of the Shinsengumi. That was enough to make anyone to think a hundred times before they wanted to get near him in a serious relationship.

Except her.

Hijikata saw Chizuru leaning on one of the pillars in the hallway. After she regained her health from the fever, and after she wasn't allowed to do any chores (courtesy of him), he always saw that she would sit in the hallway in front of her room and would gaze in silence toward the snowy courtyard.

When he heard what she had said, his hands were itching to embrace and hug the petite woman. But he restrained himself and would only look at Chizuru from a distance. The urge to go to the woman was very strong, but he steeled his resolve and in the end he could hold it.

He didn't realize that his protective side had gone a bit overboard regarding Chizuru. He would do almost everything he could to ensure her safety.

"Fukuchou."

Hijikata turned to the voice that called him. He found Saitou stood next to him, bowing his head.

"What do you want, Saitou?"

"Kyokuchou (the chief) is looking for you."

"Okay. I will go to him."

Saitou left Hijikata after that. Hijikata looked at Chizuru, who had not moved from her position leaning on the pillar, for the last time, before he turned the other way and went to meet with Kondou.

---

Several days later, Chizuru found herself walking to Sannan and Heisuke's room. Usually the one that would bring their meals was Saitou. But he was away on duty and would not back for a long time because of things that followed after the Aburano Koji incident.

Many of the members of the Shinsengumi didn't know that Hijikata had given Saitou a direct order to join Itou when he left the Shinsengumi. Only some of them (the higher-ranking members) knew the truth and all the details regarding why Saitou left the Shinsengumi. So, when Saitou came back to join the Shinsengumi again, many of the members of the Shinsengumi were not happy and thought that he was a traitor and a coward. To the members, Saitou had left the Shinsengumi to join Itou, and then betrayed his new master when he sensed a change in fortune. Honestly, Saitou didn't care much about the animosity that he received from the other members. He knew that he just followed his superior's orders. Chizuru had once asked Saitou about this. He said that he would rather stay silent than tarnish the honor of the vice commander and the chief who had ordered his actions. But Kondou and Hijikata thought that it was not good that Saitou got all the blame. Therefore, Hijikata decided that Saitou would leave the compound until tempers inside the compound cooled down. He was assigned to protect a man named Miura Kyutaro, an official of the Kishu Domain, and would stay at Tenma.

Miura Kyotaro was an important clansman of the Kii domain who was assumed had been behind Sakamoto's death. It was assumed that Miura had arranged for the Shinsengumi to kill Sakamoto because of some incident. Later Miura had learned that his life was in danger and had arranged through Aizu for the Shinsengumi to protect him. That's when Saitou came in.

"Heisuke-kun, I bring your meal." Chizuru announced her presence. Heisuke slid his door open a little and peeked from the gap between his door and the wall.

"Thank you, Chizuru. Just leave the food outside and I will take it later. I'm not that hungry right now." Chizuru could see through the little gap that Heisuke was smiling a little at her. She had heard that since he became a Rasetsu, Heisuke's mood was mostly on the negative side. Hearing the light and usual tone that he used when he talked to her made Chizuru feel happy and sad. Happy because she could talk to her friend again and sad because…

"Chizuru." Heisuke cut into Chizuru's inner thought. He had slid the door open further, making the gap bigger. He knew what Chizuru was thinking at that moment. This was not the first time a thing like this had happened. From Chizuru's face Heisuke knew that the woman was thinking about that topic again. Chizuru had asked Heisuke about this the day after he rejoined the Shinsengumi and became a Rasetsu.

"Ye-Yes, Heisuke-kun?" Chizuru stuttered a bit. She was surprised when Heisuke cut into her inner thoughts.

"I will say it as many times as it needed. It was my decision to become a Rasetsu. I know that becoming a Rasetsu is not a good thing. But, I don't want to die yet. I would regret many things if I just died like that. Just… be happy that I'm alive and can talk to you like now." Heisuke gave Chizuru a wry smile.

"I'm happy that you're still alive and we can talk like this again, Heisuke-kun."

'If only you know that my supposed father made the ochimizu for a dreadful and stupid purpose and nothing could ever return the rasetsu back to be a human….'

"Okay, okay. Stop with the heavy feelings. I don't want to talk about it anymore. The case is closed." Heisuke clapped his hands "Heavy matters are for Hijikata-san to think about."

Heisuke posed as Hijikata, folding his hands over his chest, scowling and furrowing his eyebrows. "He is always like this whenever I see him. Wonder why that face of his doesn't get any wrinkles because he always furrows his eyebrows like this."

Chizuru covered her mouth and let out a little laugh at Heisuke's attempt to pose as Hijikata.

"AH! Don't tell Hijikata-san about this okay? I would surely lose my head if he found out that I imitated him. He is more frightening than any oni I've ever met." He was that afraid of that the vice commander. Rasetsu or not.

Chizuru couldn't hold in her laugh and let it out a little again. Heisuke's antics were never old. Even though her friend had become a rasetsu, Heisuke would still be Heisuke. One of her dearest friends.

"I promise," she told him in the midst of regaining her composure. Heisuke gave Chizuru a lopsided grin.

"Okay, I will eat now. After those heavy talks, I'm hungry." Heisuke rubbed his stomach to emphasize his words.

"Hai. Here's your food." Chizuru gave a tray of food to Heisuke. "Do you know where Sannan-san is? I came to his room first but he isn't in his room."

"Nope. He always does whatever he wants. No one knows what he thinks these days. But, Chizuru, regarding Sannan-san, I want to give you some advice."

"What?" Chizuru asked, confused with the sudden change of Heisuke's tone.

"Don't get too close to him. Watch out and be careful when you are alone together in the same room." Heisuke spoke seriously.

Chizuru nodded her head, not sure why Heisuke would say something like that about Sannan. Sannan activities were indeed suspicious, not to mention with the rumors of the Rasetsu squad about what they did when they were 'patrolling'. She didn't want to think anything bad about Sannan, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

---

"Sannan-san?"

Chizuru waited for Sannan about an hour after she gave Heisuke his meal. Then she decided to return to her room. She told Yamazaki, who was working in the kitchen, that she didn't meet Sannan. Yamazaki told her that he would be the one to give Sannan his meal later.

When she turned to the corner of the hallway that would lead to her room, she found the bespectacled man was standing in front of her door.

"Ah, there you are, Yukimura. I am looking for you." Sannan turned his head to Chizuru when she called him.

"It's still day time," Chizuru walked a few steps and stopped at an arm's length from Sannan. She was concerned with Sannan's condition. "Are you sure you are alright, walking in the day time like this?"

"It's okay." Sannan gave Chizuru a smile. But somehow, Chizuru felt uncomfortable and uneasy with Sannan's smile.

"I also was looking for you earlier. I came to your room to give your meal but you were not there."

"I have been waiting for you in here. There is something that I want to talk to you about." Sannan's smile was still on his face. He was somewhat happy about something, which was a rare sight to be seen these days.

"P-please come inside the room first." Chizuru was nervous with Sannan's behavior but she was also concerned with Sannan's body. Rasetsu were night creatures and they didn't adapt well to the sunlight. Even though the sun wasn't bright that day, it was still day time.

"Thank you," Sannan said politely.

They entered Chizuru's room but the door was left open.

"Please have a seat," Chizuru offered politely.

"No need. I've just had a revelation. And this has made me unable to stay still." Sannan's eyes glittered with... something. He was still smiling but slowly that smile gave Chizuru a cold feeling that she could feel seep in through her fingers and begin to poke at the base of her spine.

"Well," Sannan lowered his voice and looked at Chizuru in a menacing way, "will you listen to what I've found?"

Chizuru nodded her head unconsciously. Cold sweat was dripping down her back.

"You're an oni, aren't you?" Sannan began slowly. "As an oni, you are stronger, faster, and more resilient than humans like us. That power was displayed quite clearly by the onis who attacked us at Nishihongwanji months ago."

"T-That is true." Chizuru gulped. "But my knowledge about fighting or anything related to a battle is limited. Not like Kazama or his companions who excelled with those things."

"It's not about those things." Sannan shook his head but his eyes were looking straight at Chizuru. "It's about what you have as an oni, not about what you can do as it."

Sannan took a step closer to Chizuru.

"W-What are you trying to say?" Chizuru took a step back, almost tripping because of the nervous feeling she felt.

"An oni possesses immense power. And shouldn't it be a logical thought to follow that the blood which flows through your veins, the oni veins, should be similarly powerful?" Sannan asked a question, but looked like he didn't need an answer. "Perhaps it is even potent enough to completely counteract the madness of the rasetsu."

Chizuru didn't know how the ochimizu worked but from Sannan's explanation, she found that it seemed logical and maybe a solution for the rasetsu madness. Still, the eyes that were looking at her were… how could she describe it? The way Sannan had looked at her was a bit… manic.

"Is it true? How you can be so sure?" Chizuru took another step back.

"I have done research on the ochimizu since before I became a rasetsu. Your father left his research about the ochimizu and went missing before he finished it. I was the one that took over his job and I have been researching about it since then. I know more about it than anyone else here in the Shinsengumi." Sannan also took a step forward to Chizuru. "How could I be wrong, then?"

Sannan didn't get any closer to Chizuru but he didn't leave the room either. His main purpose for coming to meet Chizuru was not done yet.

"But again, I still have to test it for myself to be sure. It's worth testing after all."

Chizuru took another step back and felt her hand touch the wall surface behind her. If she took another step, she would be trapped between Sannan and the wall. She was sure that if she tried to escape from the menacing man in front of her now, her feet would not get her far enough to call for help… she doubted she would be heard. When she walked to her room from the kitchen earlier, she didn't meet anyone on the way.

'What should I do?'

Sannan continued to talk as if he didn't notice Chizuru's anxiousness and fright, although these were obvious from the look on her face.

"If I am correct on this thing," he paused and gave a big smile, "oh, it would be wonderful! Your very existence could save the entire rasetsu squad!

"...No, it could save the entire Shinsengumi!"

Sannan's eyes had grown painfully sharp and Chizuru thought that she could almost hear the barest edge of madness to Sannan's voice.

"And now…"

Calmly and purposefully, Sannan drew his sword from its scabbard on his waist and pointed the tip at Chizuru. There was no madness or blood-lust to his movements, and that only made them all more terrifying.

"Please don't be afraid. There's nothing to be afraid of." He tried in his way to sooth Chizuru, but it had the opposite effect on the frightened woman. "I'm not going to kill you or anything.

"I just want a small sample of your blood. That will be all…"

Chizuru forgot that if she took another step to back, she would hit the wall. She took another step and when her back hit the wall, she was startled. There was no way she could escape Sannan. Her body was overwhelmed with a dreadful feeling.

But… if what Sannan had said was true, then she could help the Shinsengumi. She could be a help for the Shinsengumi's members and would no longer feel useless or worthless.

The Ochimizu that Kodou had made gave the one that drank it a surge of immense power but it also took their sanity. Only a few that had survived could suppress the blood-lust that followed after drinking the ochimizu. Sannan and Heisuke were among them. Suddenly, she remembered the night when a rasetsu had escaped and come to her room. The man told her that her blood smelled very good and the sweet scent had lured him to her room. Maybe it was his instinct to find the thing that could save him from losing his insanity. Maybe her oni's blood was a cure that could save the Shinsengumi's rasetsu. That could save her friends from losing their sanity….

She only had to give Sannan a small amount of her blood. He said that he would not kill her and it's not that she would die from losing too much blood. Her wound would close immediately and it would not endanger her life.

Chizuru looked back at Sannan and the man had taken another step closer to her. He lifted his katana and the steel blade shimmered in the light. She was contemplating the idea of Sannan's suggestion when suddenly a gruff voice cut into her thoughts.

"What are you doing Sannan-san?"

To be continued

Note: Whose voice that had interrupted Chizuru's thought? Well... we do know whose voice it is. (It's canon with the story *hint-hint*)

This chapter is a filler. At first, I want to end this chapter with Chizuru find a resolve of her inner conflict to stay with the Shinsengumi. But the chapter will be twice longer then the usual length. So, I decide that the main part will be on the next chapter. The next chapter will be mostly focus on Hijikata and Chizuru.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. And reviews and feed-backs will always be appreciated.

See u on the next chapter.

[avengers-nextgen]

We Are One IV

“You okay?” Penny questioned, sitting on the edge of Enzo’s bed. “I heard what happened. Must have been hard.”

“You don’t have to baby me.” Enzo mumbled.

“I’m not. As a friend I’m genuinely concerned.” Penny frowned.

“I’m fine. Just angry and confused.” Enzo blinked fiercely trying to keep from crying, “I thought Max was my friend, but I was wrong.”

“They’re as confused and scared as you are,” Penny sighed. “Having this burden is tough. It’s a big responsibility that not a lot of people want.”

“So now you defend them?”

“No! I just see it from Max’s perspective! I understand their point of view.” Penny stammered.

“I don’t want to talk about it okay?” Enzo croaked. “My sister already tried. She wants to throttle Max.”

“Sounds about right,” Penny laughed.

“Yeah. Real fantastic times going on.” Hugging his pillow Enzo stared angrily at the wall.

“Listen, maybe I’m not helping right now but I am here if you need me,” Penny assured him, anxious to leave. Enzo gave no recognition of what she’d said. Lost in thought, Penny shuffled back to her room.

“How’d it go?” Arthur asked, hanging upside down on her bed.

“Horrible.” Penny frowned. “He’s so...sad. I don’t like it.”

“It’s tough.” Arthur agreed.

“No kidding.”

“You tried though, and that’s what’s important.” Arthur assured, sitting upright at last.

“Thanks.” Penny smiled thinly. “I just feel like everyone’s on edge.”

“It certainly is an interesting atmosphere at the moment, but it’s understandable,” Arthur shrugged.

— — —

“You’re going to murder that poor training dummy,” Chloe noted dryly whilst taking a bite from her pear. She flipped the page in her book and glanced up to see Nathaniel pounding once more at the silicone mold. “Someone make you mad? Touch your pointy sticks?”

“They’re arrows,” Nathaniel huffed, “and yes, I’m mad.”

“About the Enzo thing?” Chloe took another bite.

“About all of it.”

“I think you’re just mad you’ve got a challenge for once.” Chloe leaned back against the bleacher stands designed to hold classes of twenty.

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” Nathaniel arched a brow pausing in his assault.

“Someone roughly your age, challenging your beliefs, attacking your family, and you’ve always been the protector. It’s no different than wolf packs.” Chloe shrugged.

“Are you insinuating I’m some sort of alpha running on animal instincts?” Nathaniel scoffed, resting his hands on his hips.

“Well, something like that. Nature doesn’t lie.” Chloe smirked.

“And what if you’re right?”

“If I’m right? Things will escalate until conflict boils down to one survivor. One alpha over another.” Chloe explained.

“I’m no murderer.”

“Under the right circumstances anyone is a murderer.” Chloe’s words sent a chill down Nathaniel’s spine. “Would your mother kill for you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m not wrong.”

“I suppose not.” Nathaniel nodded. “Why tell me this though?”

“Because you need to be careful. Some people around here care about you. You know that loss isn’t easily healed or forgotten. Don’t be the cause of someone else’s.” With that, Chloe collected her book and bag. Tossing the remnants of her pear into the garbage she left Nathaniel to his own devices. He didn’t feel angry anymore, and he turned away from the dummy.

— — —

“Your family ties you down,” Killian noted from where he leaned against the door frame.

“My family is the only reason I give a damn about anything anymore so can it Ben Franklin.” Harper glared, plopping onto the worn sofa. “You’re lucky I scrounged up enough to rent this shit hole.”

“Which we appreciate,” Max quickly remarked.

“All of this waiting is making me...” Drew frowned searching for the right word, “restless.”

Harper looked at the alien with distaste. The girl was odd, completely apathetic, and in her own world a majority of the time. Not to mention the random splitting headaches that practically incapacitated her. “If you even point your axe at me I’ll kill you.”

“I’m certain she would kill you first.” Kubu replied dryly. “But the alien has a point. I am restless too. I have an agenda to accomplish.”

“We know, your little diplomatic revolutionary mission.” Harper smirked, “but if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re just looking for an escape to America.”

“My mission is for my people!” Kubu glowered, “I wouldn’t turn my back on them.”

“Everyone says that until the moment comes to make a choice. I would know.” Harper replied coldly.

“Enough.” Killian’s voice echoed off the walls of peeling paper. “We have to be careful. They have the numbers, the experience, and the coordination.”

“How would you know?” Drew asked in genuine curiosity.

“I’ve grown up watching them come into themselves as heroes,” Killian explained, “I know each of them like the back of my hand. There’s only a few wild cards. The new acquaintances. Luckily, each of you is familiar with one of them.”

“So you need us,” Kubu stood straighter jutting out his chin.

“I said that the moment I gave my offer,” Killian reminded them, “we all benefit from this. Drew claims her bounty, Harper gets a good chance at life, Kubu takes down oppressors, Max gets a normal life, and I no longer have to watch my mother waste away at the hands of others.”

“As you’ve said,” Harper sneered, “but I don’t see results.”

“You would be wise to know patience.” Kubu suggested.

“I know patience!” Harper snapped, “I know patience better than any of you. Prison, prison makes you patient. You don’t have obligations like I do. People depend on me. What the hell do you know about family?”

“My people are my family,” Kubu growled, “the only one here who has no family is Drew!”

Drew arched a brow as everyone looked at her in curiosity. “What?”

“That’s if she’s even telling the truth,” Kubu continued, “for all we know she’s lying. How is it someone doesn’t remember where they are from?”

“It’s possible,” Max stammered, “I know someone. They’re not too different from Drew.”

Kubu regarded Max in silence before accepting the reply and leaning back against the wall.

“Thank you, Max,” Killian smiled kindly at the young boy, “but bickering gets us no where. I have a plan, but each of us needs to trust one another entirely.”

“Please tell me this isn’t some bonding exercise?” Harper frowned.

“It is.” Killian nodded with a glint in his eye both enchanting and terrifying. “Only one thing brings people closer together than anything else.”

— — —

“I don’t believe it,” Piper snickered, watching Thalia sharpen her sword on the couch.

“What?” Thalia asked, glancing about as if it were an obvious thing to notice.

“You got laid!” Piper cackled, tugging at Thalia’s tank top to expose some sort of healing mark on her shoulder.

“I don’t understand,” the blonde frowned, pulling away from Piper’s touch. She may not have comprehended the expression, but she was aware enough to feel thoroughly embarrassed.

“Of all people,” Piper whistled, “I thought you’d be the last of everyone.”

“For what?” Orion asked, moon walking into the living room to retrieve his shoes.

“Thalia got laid.”

“Nice.” Orion nodded, collecting his sneakers, “but I don’t think that’s something she wants you to brag about for her.”

“I still don’t understand,” Thalia stammered, “what did I do? Doesn’t everyone lay down? You make it sound like something unpleasant.”

“It’s okay, Thalia, don’t worry about it.” Orion gave her an apologetic smile and patted her on the shoulder. “Piper’s being nosy again.”

“Am not! I knew something was up when you two came back. You were more inseparable than ever and don’t get me started on other things.” Piper beamed. She’d noticed very quickly how Thalia and Siyanda had acquired the habit of subconsciously maintaining a form of contact with one another. Of course, Piper hadn’t pin pointed whether or not her suspicions were correct, but now she was positively certain.

“Ranting again? I’ll be taking my sandwich and leaving,” James sighed, immediately turning to the kitchen.

“It’s not ranting! It’s discussion.”

“About what? Some device you plan on blowing up?” James arched a brow.

“No, that Thalia got laid.” Piper shrugged.

“Seriously?” Orion looked incredulously at the youngest Stark.

“Uhm, okay.” James shook his head, “I didn’t need to know that. Uhm, congrats? Good job?”

“Good job? What did I do?” Thalia asked again, feeling her face heat up more and her heart hammer. She was beyond confused and frankly she was so embarrassed she wanted to cry. “Why won’t you explain?”

Piper pursed her lips in thought for a moment before coming up with as plain an explanation as possible, “You and Wakanda’s tech genius slept together.”

“That isn’t strange. We do that all the time.” Thalia’s brow furrowed.

“You what?” Piper blinked.

“I’m leaving!” James held his hands over his ears and abandoned his mission for a sandwich.

Glancing between Piper and James, Thalia decided she wasn’t understanding something key once again. Swallowing hard she abandoned her sword and went in search of the one person who’d set things straight.

“Did we do a bad thing?” Thalia blurted as Siyanda lifted her welding mask.

“That depends on what I am being accused of,” She replied vaguely. Thalia sat down across from her and explained everything in rapid succession leaving no room for a response.

“We did something wrong didn’t we? It was a bad thing.” Thalia wrinkled her nose to keep from crying.

“No, no it wasn’t a bad thing.” Siyanda shook her head. “Piper’s just teasing you. She forgets sometimes you’re not up to date on all of the slang. It’s not nice teasing or fair teasing, but you’re okay. No need to be upset. You didn’t do a bad thing.”

“Good,” Thalia nodded. “I don’t want to do anything bad. I want to be a good person. And I don’t want to be the reason you do something bad and be a bad person.”

“I know,” Siyanda smiled attempting to kiss Thalia only for the welding mask to fall down, “I should have seen that coming.”

“Metal mouth.”

“That’s what my dad said when I had braces.”

“Smart man.”

“Yeah,” Siyanda laughed, pulling up the mask again, “but do know-I won’t ever think of you as a bad person. Not ever. No matter the circumstances.”

“I won’t think of you that way either,” Thalia promised.

“Good,” Siyanda grinned, “now with that settled I have some ass to kick.”

[lyra-rey]

The Alternative || Lyra

i.

She was at an underground lab when the sirens were blaring. Her mind was on the new gauntlet she made to help a young pyrokinetic control his powers at Hyperion and the disappointment that she wouldn’t be able to share it with her mentor. She had tried to reach out to Professor Berners several times since his wife passed away, but he has ignored her efforts. Still, she wanted to call him, her finger hovering over his name when she was told they were under lock down.

Scientists and engineers ran regardless of where they were told to go, but Lyra stayed put. Their underground research facility was made to survive worse than whatever emergency was going on above ground.

She was correct, of course. The lab was untouched and the engineers who remained were perfectly fine. After several hours, she volunteered to see what was going on. She climbed up the steps to the surface, hoping that whatever happened had passed and that first responders were already at the scene to help with the damage.

What she found was a battleground and creatures she’s never seen before pouring onto the streets.

ii.

They stayed underground for as long as they could survive, but given their shortage or resources, they had to leave eventually. Lyra had plans already written down, ideas and safe areas that might still be accessible to them. She assumed that there are places outside of the city for them to escape to, but she didn’t want to run without knowing where she was going. A few others decided to stay with her, more so because she had a plan than because they believed in her.

When they surface, it was a lot worse than Lyra had thought. Buildings were decimated, whole blocks turned into rubble. Her plans went out the window.

iii.

She stayed in the lab, surfacing only to grab supplies. Only two engineers chose to stay with her, Lydia and Caesar. They don’t particularly like each other but Lyra figured that they want the company. Someone is better than no one. She figured out how to make a small garden down there, but she knew it won’t last. Through a radio and a lot of tinkering, she found a list of the people pronounced dead. She couldn’t breathe when she saw her parents’ names on the list.

Lydia kept track of the Unity attack while Lyra found things to keep her mind busy. She thought of inventions and ways to rebuild the city. Her thoughts went to the electromagnetic levitation theory she had mulled over but never got around to finishing. She did her best to not think about her parents, her friends, and all the people who were dead several feet above them. The pain in her chest when she thought about them always brought her to tears and if this was even a fraction of what Professor Berners felt, she understood why he was so distant.

Still, she worked. Working was better than thinking about what was going on above them.

iv.

Lydia was taken by Unity when she went to look for supplies. Caesar knew it immediately and forced Lyra to leave. “Unity will be there to take them next. We have to run!”

She didn’t want to, but she did. She left the safety of the underground bunker and ran. She didn’t know where she was going, but she ran as fast as she could anyway.

She found a hole to hide in and hoped Caesar got away.

In her hole, there was nothing for her to occupy her mind with, nothing except the pain that was overtaking her. She wanted her mother to tell her that she could get out of this. She yearned to have her father pull her into a hug. She wanted to quit so badly, to go to Unity and accept whatever fate they would give her.

But she saw Lydia. She saw what they had done to her. She didn’t want to be a mindless drone. She was the smartest person in the city. Lyra was determined to maintain that.

v.

She survived. Surviving alone is easier than in a group. You find what you need and hide out until you have to find more. She had never fashioned herself a thief, but she was smart enough to figure it out. She busied herself with whatever books she could find, occasionally making notes the way she used to--plans for a counteroffensive the world was in no shape to make. Planning it made her feel a little better, as if she could get the revenge she wanted if she made it perfect enough.

From her hiding places, she observed her enemy. She noted the way they walked, how silent they seemed. It wasn’t difficult to recognize their hive mind, but combating it was another issue. She worked with frequencies, hoping that there was one that might cause some discomfort. There were a few that triggers a reaction, but none sufficient enough to keep them away. Regardless, they were a unit that could see everything and anything all at the same time.

She wondered what it would take to break down that connection. She saw the people taken by Unity, their walks not quite human even if they did their best to appear so.  Sometimes, she saw Lydia among them.

Her mind focused on her research to the point where she forgets how long she had been working on it. Years? Months? Days? Lyra wouldn’t know. But she had her theories and her notebooks full of Unity and ways to combat them. She was never quite the tactician, but she found a couple books since then. Now, she put herself to sleep at night, dreaming of how she would take them down.

Being alone had never bothered her before, but she felt it at night, when there was no one else to talk to or bounce ideas off of. On those nights, she looked to the stars, imagining that there was something out there better than the aliens that invaded her home.

vi.

They called themselves the Resistance, which Lyra thought was a stupid name. They were a small group in Newhaven, composed of the few survivors left in the city. She was grateful to see Caesar among them.

For a group called the Resistance, they didn’t do much. Lyra shared her research with them, but they had already come to similar conclusions, albeit without the technical terms she had used. Nothing changed that there was little they could do other than take Unity down one alien at a time.

Lyra saw the impracticality of that plan, but she didn’t argue with them. She didn’t want them to toss her out so she played their game.

Along with Caesar, they made their living situations livable with water and a reasonable amount of electricity. They built tunnels and escape routes in case of an emergency and tried to make themselves useful. She used the alien technology to make new things. Weapons came by easily, but she studied the way they are run and came up with a more efficient form of energy for their power generators.

For once, Lyra’s heart wasn’t in rebuilding. It was in the work the scientists were doing, inspecting and figuring out how the aliens worked. Whenever she could, she found herself talking to the duo of scientists, Mackenzie and Yoshi, although, Yoshi was more of a physicist than biological scientist. Regardless, they talked and discussed theories and it almost felt like old times for her.

viii.

It might not have been Lyra’s idea to bring in the alien body for a proper dissection, but she was vocal about her approval. She stressed that they couldn’t fight something they didn’t know about and it shouldn’t be too hard to drag back a body of an alien they already killed.

No one else liked the idea of bringing an alien into their base of operations, but they compromised. Lyra prepared a building for the experimentation far away from the base and they got to do their experiments.

The alien had clearly been dead a long time before it reached the table, but Lyra still made sure to use extra force when cutting it open. She made thorough notes as Yoshi drew out anatomy as best as he could. The three of them talked little as they worked, almost as if they were afraid the alien would come back to life on the table. Lyra just wanted to make sure she wasn’t missing anything.

ix.

Their research sent them to dead ends. They understood some of their basic organs, but their brains were too complicated for them to figure out how the hive brain works. Yoshi wanted to call it quits, but Mackenzie was adamant that there has to be a way to break the connection. Words were whispered about her husband and daughter who were unified, but Lyra paid them no mind.

Lyra came up with an idea.

They called her insane. The Resistance called the plan ridiculous and claimed it definitely wouldn’t work. Caesar told her personally that she should let it go.

She didn’t.

A few gunho soldiers agreed to her foolish plan. They memorized the routes Unity took and cornered one. Their unified came for the attack, but Lyra was already there, stabbing Unity with enough electricity to burn an average human alive. The unified screamed along with their master, but then they attacked, despite the pain. The unified took out the soldiers and Lyra was forced to run with whoever survived.

She was reprimanded when she returned to the base and they threatened to throw her out. Lyra couldn’t bring herself to argue otherwise, but they let her stay, if only because she was the only one who could fix the generator.

Mackenzie asked if it worked, but Lyra refused to tell her. Even if it did, she vowed to never do something like that again.

x.

A boy nearly blew up the entire base when his powers came in and they were forced to move to a more secure location. The leaders questioned their safety and his parents begged them not to throw him out. Lyra offered an alternative.

Her equipment was rudimentary at best, but with alien technology, she managed to figure out how his power worked biologically. From there, she only needed to create a way for him to channel his powers. They manifest in a pair of gloves that absorbed the heat he created and converted it into energy that could be distributed back into his body. He was much more hyper than normal, but otherwise completely safe.

The success with him resulted in others going to her for help. Lyra did what she could for them. Not everyone had a gift that she could create something for, but she tried anyway.

Her name made its rounds through the underground resistance and those with powers began to seek her out. A teleporter named Percy offered his assistance to her after she figured out a way to stop him from teleporting in his sleep and she went wherever she was needed.

xi.

Lyra has all but given up on the world by the time she meets the young man by the name of Royland B. Giver. The resistance was almost completely dead, most of the friends she had made having been unified or killed. The only way she was still alive was through Percy.

Royland’s powers are different than everyone else’s and she finds herself obsessed with them. She feels like a child again when she asks him questions and tries to figure out a way to help him recall the abilities that he learns. It’s through the research done by her long dead friend, Mackenzie, that she begins to put things together.

If she can replicate the hive mind, she can save the powers.

The hive mind was beyond Lyra’s ability in her youth and she had given up her attempt to understand Unity when the remaining super people asked for her help. But Mackenzie continued her research up until her own death. Through her notes she saw theories of how the hive mind worked, more than enough for Lyra to play with.

xii.

She comes to the conclusion that she needs fresh Unity bodies if she is going to make this happen and she can’t bring herself to do so. The Resistance asks her what her next move is and she keeps evading their questions. She knows the only way she might be able to help him would be brain fluid, but how can she ask for soldiers to die for one man.

She tells Royland and he says he understands.

He returns a few weeks later with a body of Unity in tow. Lyra is furious at him, but he assures her that no one was hurt too bad. He promises that he was careful and that no one followed him back. When her anger dies down, she asks him why. He insists it is because she needed it.

xiii.

The first suit is rudimentary, but it works. He keeps two powers in it and it is more than enough to keep them safe at the least. Lyra tells him how it works but he only gives her a smile. She figures it doesn’t matter if he knows how it works as long as it does work.

She is working on improvements to it when he asks her why he can’t understand what she’s doing.

“It’s not a power, kid. It’s just stubbornness and lots of reading.”

She is able to add two more powers.

xiv.

He becomes more powerful than anyone of the Resistance can imagine. She receives praises for her work, but she keeps saying that it isn’t finished yet. There is more to be added.

No one says anything when she begins coughing too much. She claims it is a cold, but she recognizes the signs. Mackenzie had been coughing a lot too after a while. She takes a break from researching, but the cough stays. She is technically an old woman now, older than her mother ever was. It’s normal for her to be getting sick, possibly even dying. She’s trained a few to follow in her footsteps, though none are quite what she was at their age.

After several months, her cough remains and Lyra works on his suit again. If she was going to die, she wanted to at least get his suit working properly before then. By the time she finishes it off, he is no doubt the soldier they need to take on Unity.

If only he wasn’t so outnumbered.

xv.

The Resistance has a plan and Royland volunteers to go.

Lyra is already bedridden, not the spry young woman she once was. But she adds him another slot anyway. Her hands are too shaky to complete and she has her protegee build it into the suit for her. She can see the defects her protegee has created as she installs it and is incredibly annoyed that she can’t fix it herself.

“It’s a one way ticket. There’s no way her horrible work will be able to maintain the power for you to use it twice.”

Royland is grateful anyway.

xvi.

She is there when he poofs back to 2018. She wonders if he would see her there, a woman with a million ideas and not enough time to put them together.

She’s confident that he will fix it, that there will be a timeline somewhere where they are happy.

She hopes she did her part to save the world.

[hoyoungy]

On-Air | Vernon/Hansol (V)

genre: fluff, comedy, slight angst, college au | vernon x radio personality!reader summary: under the pseudonym Honey, you are the host of the most popular radio show in the city called Honey Time Radio where you give advice about relationships, school, and life in general. when it comes to your own love-life, however, you don’t have the best luck, and you don’t even follow your own advice! so what happens when you get a call from a listener who’s asking you advice on how to get to your heart? word count: 3468 a/n: thank you all for the support thus far! it’s 4:30 am good night i need sleep lol. several warnings: swearing, alcohol, lots of platonic wonwoo x reader, and american fraternity life. as seen on my ao3

part iv, vi

“A party tonight, huh?” Wonwoo said, swinging around in his chair. “What kind of party?”

“What do you mean what kind of party, it’s a college party,” you said as-a-matter-of-factly.

“The type of college party that Hansol invited you to is just as important as the invite itself!”

“How?”

“If it’s a birthday party, he’s trying to claim you. Well, claim is such a terrible word, but I don’t know how else to explain it. Assuming the birthday party is most likely hosted by someone he’s close to, he wants to show you off to his friends and show you how serious he is. A fraternity party, on the other hand, is way different.”

“So what if he’s taking me to a frat party?”

“Fraternity, you uncultured swine, not frat,” Wonwoo scolded. “And I’ll kill him.”

“What, why!?”

“The sole purpose of a fraternity hosting a party that isn’t the afterset to one of their cancer-saving bullshit philanthropy events is to get the entire house laid. Lots of drunk, sexy people in one room gets things going, you know? Trust me on this one, I know from hands-on experience and it works every time, so if he’s trying to take you to a damn Sigma Tau party, I’ll kill him. Their parties always suck, anyways.”

“I always forget that you’re in a fraternity,” you snorted.

“Why? I’m hot enough to be in one.”

“It’s because you’re such a fuckin’ nerd.”

“Nerds can wear letters, too, you independent,” he pouted. “So what kind of party is it?”

“It’s Soonyoung’s birthday party.”

“Oh, cool! I’ll see you there then.”

“You’re going!? Thanks for the invite!” you scolded.

“I swear I was going to invite you literally right after this discussion. But hey, Hansol beat me to it, so good for him.”

“I’m not cool enough to be invited to parties, ok, that’s why I rely on you to tell me once you get the invite!”

“It slipped my mind, I’m sorry! I’ll remember next time!”

“Can I go with you tonight?”

“Why? Hansol’s not picking you up?”

“He’s helping set up, so he’ll be there already.”

“I mean, I guess we could go together,” he said sarcastically. “Just don’t, you know, do what you always do and look awkward.”

“I might as well not go at all.”

“I’m kidding! But you have to take a shot with me once we walk in, no chaser.”

“Of what…”

“Silver tequila ~”

“You’re the devil incarnate,” you groaned, feeling yourself gagging already. “Fine.”

“Hurray! HonWoo ‘bouta turn up!”

“Never say that again. Hurry and press the button,” you sighed, slumping in your seat. Tonight was going to be a long night and you had no idea what to expect. But now wasn’t the time to worry.

“On-air in three… two… one…”

“What’s up, everyone!?” you greeted. “You’re on-air with Honey Time Radio, with Honey at the mic and Dj Wonwoo on the beat. It is a warm, thirsty Thursday evening, which means $10 bottles of soju at Ahjooma’s Corner! Make sure you stop on by and grab a bottle of soju while you’re eating with your friends, your significant other, or even your employer whom you’re trying to get drunk so you can get that raise! Mine and Wonwoo’s favorite flavor is the green apple soju. This is definitely sponsored content, but I was not paid to say that Ahjooma’s Corner has the best soondubu-jjigae ever, besides my mother’s. Love you, mom!

“For our first segment of the show tonight, we have a submission sent in by an anonymous listener. ‘Hey, Honey & Wonwoo! I’m a returning listener who has called for advice before, but I’m too nervous to call again because my identity might be found out! So here’s the thing; there’s this guy that I have been trying to get his attention, but every time I try, I either chicken out or he leaves right away to talk to someone else! I tried your advice last time, like small conversation starters, but I don’t think he’s that kind of person. There’s a party tonight and he’s going to be there. If he’s not into small talk, what do you think I should do?’”

You squinted at the submission on your laptop screen. Why did this scenario sound so familiar?

“Sounds like you’re in quite the pickle, anonymous,” you commented, a bit discouraged that your advice didn’t work, but glad they came back to ask. “You must really like him, huh? Well, if my advice didn’t work last time, I’d hate to ruin it a second time. Maybe Wonwoo can help?”

“Really!? Ah, it’s my time to shine!” he said while cracking his knuckles. “My advice is coming from my perspective - a guy’s perspective. I’m a lot like your guy in the sense that I hate small talk, too. I feel like the party scene is a lot easier to work with because you have a lot more leeway to break the ice. Does your guy like to drink? Ask him if he wants you to get a drink and start talking that way. Does he like drinking games? Ask him to be your partner. Does he like to dance? This one’s a bit more daring, but if you know how to bump n’ grind on the dance floor, that’ll really get his attention, if you know what I mean ~” Wonwoo chuckled at your gross expression. “It seems like he doesn’t like his time being wasted, so get straight to the point right away. Hope that helps.”

“You know, usually I would rather eat the cafeteria food than listen to Wonwoo’s advice, but that was actually pretty good…” you mused. “We should switch roles for a night.”

“I would never let you touch my soundboard. Only my fingers can make such magical sounds.”

“Why do you say things like that, it’s so weird… Anyways, we wish you all the best, Anonymous! Let us know how it went. Let’s take our first caller!”

“And that’s all for tonight, everyone. Tomorrow rings in a new day, so make sure you take the bull by the horns and seize it. Or something along those lines. You understand, what I mean, right? I’d like to give a special shoutout to a special listener by the name of Soonyoung. Happy birthday, Soonyoung! Stay safe at your party tonight. And as always, everyone else stay safe tonight, too. Use our Lyft code aka our official ship name, #HonWoo, for 20% off your ride. Thanks for listening, everyone. This is Honey signing off.”

“How did you manage to get us an Ahjooma’s Corner ad and a Lyft code?” Wonwoo asked after pressing the offline button. “The step team has been trying to get sponsors from both of them since forever!”

“Jeonghan’s like, the head chef or whatever at Ahjooma’s Corner and Seungkwan’s the brand ambassador for Lyft.”

“Seungkwan, that pink bastard,” Wonwoo cursed. “Are you going back to your apartment to change?”

“Yeah, I can’t go there looking like this.”

“Good, ‘cuz you look like trash.”

“You’re a great friend.”

When you got back to your apartment, it was already 10:30 which was thirty minutes after the party started but thirty minutes before the party started. In those remaining thirty minutes, you spent twenty-five of those throwing out every outfit you tried on, unsatisfied with the results.

“Yah, what’s taking you so long!?” Wonwoo yelled from your couch. “All the jungle juice is gonna be gone!”

“I don’t know what to wear!”

“It’s a fucking party, not the Yule Ball!”

“Can you shut up!? I’m done, for Christ’s sake!”

“If you take any longer, I’m gonna get you so drunk that Hansol’s gonna be the one carrying your ass back here -”

Wonwoo’s blabbering mouth fell silent when you left your room all ready to go. He didn’t know how you did it, but you managed to fix your hair, face, and get dressed in such a short amount of time and still look decent. Tonight, you didn’t look like _____. Tonight, you looked like Honey.

“Damn,” he said. “You look… put together for once. Tryna shake up Hansol?”

“Ugh, you complimenting me makes me feel uglier somehow.”

“I try to be nice one time…”

The walk to Soonyoung’s didn’t more than ten minutes. When you were a block away from the house, you could already hear the bumping music, loud cheers, and see the bright, colorful strobe lights. This party looked like it was straight out of an American college party movie, making Mingyu’s party look like the seventh grade sock hop.

“Jisoo Christ,” Wonwoo whistled. “Soonyoung really meant it when he said he was going to outdo his twenty-first…”

“Someone’s gotta clean all of that up eventually…”

“That’s what pledges are for,” he smirked. “C’mon, you promised me a tequila shot.”

The inside of the house was moist - it wreaked of booze, sweat, and lots of sugar. You and Wonwoo squeezed your way through the crowd to the kitchen, exchanging hellos to familiar faces and quick kisses on the cheek from drunk friends (who knew Minghao was so affectionate when drunk?)

A tall, double shot of clear poison glared at you, accompanied by its groupies lime and salt. The more you smelled the ethanol-like stench of tequila, the more you felt yourself gag.

“Cheers to a good night, _____,” Wonwoo said as you both raised your glasses. “May the alcohol be ever in our favor.”

With the cling of the glass, you licked the mound of salt, downed the juice, and sucked on a lime wedge. No amount of limes and salt could ease the burn of liquor travelling down your throat. One double shot in and you already felt like dying.

“Ha,” Wonwoo giggled. “Look at your face.”

“Taking a shot without the birthday boy!?” A familiar voice yelled, swinging his bare arm around your shoulder. A sweaty Soonyoung hugged you tightly as he grabbed a shot glass of his own. “Pour me one, Wonwoo.”

“Ugh, can’t we take something else?” you groaned, still not over the taste.

“Does Hennessey suit your needs, Princess _____?”

“Can I get a chaser?”

“Nuh uh, shorty,” Soonyoung grinned. “House rules - any shot with the birthday boy is straight.”

“God, you’re such a bro.” The gold liquid didn’t sting as much as tequila, but didn’t really taste any better. You felt the intoxication take over your body, hazing your vision, but you didn’t mind at all, although you probably should have ate before coming… Soonyoung squeezed your shoulder as a thank you for taking a shot with him.

“Have you seen Hansol?” you yelled over the music.

“You’re like the third girl that’s asked me tonight. Is it his birthday, too, or something!?” he pouted.

“Well, he’s the one that invited me -”

“He probably invited every fucking girl here,” he snorted. “He’s probably on the dance floor.”

“I’ll be heading there, then.”

“Wait, me too!”

Soonyoung had his hands over your shoulders, guiding you through the house to the living room, where the real party was happening. A sober Mingyu was the Dj for tonight, who apparently claimed that after his birthday, he was never going to drink again, or at least until after midterms. The entire room was packed with people, bodies swaying and grinding to the music, that you couldn’t even distinguish faces.

“Do you see him?” you asked Soonyoung, who clung to you closer in his drunk state.

“Yeah, but he seems a bit preoccupied…”

Your eyes followed to where Soonyoung pointed. Right in the middle of the dance floor was a flushed Hansol, grinding behind some poor soul who got caught in the same trap you were in. Even in your tipsy state, you recognized her - she was the same girl who Hansol said was bland at Mingyu’s party, the same girl who called that night to ask for advice on how to get his attention, and the same girl who anonymously sent you a submission a few hours ago on how to actually get his attention.

God, how could you be so stupid and not put the pieces together?

“Hyejin actually did it,” Soonyoung cheered behind you. “She’s been trying to talk to Hansol since their freshman year. About fuckin’ time. Who knew Wonwoo gave great advice.”

Oh, that’s right. Wonwoo was the one who advised her.

Do all guys think the fucking same?

Hyejin turned around, now facing Hansol as he kept his arms tightly wrapped around her tiny waist. Their faces were so close, any closer they would be making out and it made you want to throw up. In a room full of sweaty, sexually-driven drunk adults, the spotlight was on them, at least to you it was. The alcohol was really starting to kick in as your mind flashed through every smile, every laugh, and every form of affection that Hansol ever gave you.

In those moments, in such a short amount of time, you felt like you could fly.

But now, you felt like just another check off his list. And he was another one off of yours.

Six. That made six total guys who fucked you over.

Should you even be surprised at this point? But maybe you were overreacting… It’s not like you were even officially together. But why did it still hurt?

“Are you ok?” Soonyoung asked, shaking your shoulders. “You’re not going to throw up, are you? ‘Cuz that would suck.”

You snatched a cup of mystery drink from someone’s hand and chugged it down, ignoring the taste of cheap cinnamon liquer.

“Wanna dance?” you asked bitterly.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that?” he slurred. “Years, _____, years. Fucking finally, let’s go.”

You were shocked when Soonyoung gently took your hand and led you towards the middle of the dance floor. You were even more shocked that you were having a lot of fun using him as a distraction to get your mind off of Hansol for the night.

But you were most shocked when you locked eyes with a Hansol after the fifth song with Soonyoung.

You weren’t even dancing that risque with him. Dancing with Soonyoung was filled with laughs and smiles from the goofiness that you shared together. Hansol watched you hunch over from laughing so hard too many times for him to count. You may not have had your ass grinding up against Soonyoung crotch, but not once did you let go of his hand. He twirled you, dipped you, swung you around like a boyfriend would.

Somehow imagining you grinding up against Soonyoung seemed less painful than the scene before him.

When you saw Hansol looking at you, you might have felt guilty from seeing how pale his face was if he wasn’t still glued to Hyejin. But since that was the case, you broke the chilling eye contact quickly and put all your attention to Soonyoung. It was satisfying knowing that you could finally get payback for all the shit you fell for.

“_____ ~!” Soonyoung groaned, tired from all the dancing. “I need to rehydrate!”

“Jungle juice?” you challenged.

“Jungle juice!”

“Wonwoo ~!” you screeched, stumbling into the kitchen. After the whole dance floor incident, you spent the rest of the night drinking whatever was in front of you to numb your entire body, Now it was almost three in the morning and you were drunk off your ass and achieved the optimal amount of numbness. Most of the guests left the house with the exception of Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s friends and a couple of girls that wanted to stay. This included Hansol and Hyejin, who stood next to each other with at least one inch of space between them for once.

You let out an obnoxious groan at the sight.

“What, you alcoholic?” he teased.

“Take me home.”

“Why don’t you ask Han -”

“HONEY TIME RADIO,” you interrupted loudly, causing Wonwoo’s eyes to widen. You didn’t even want to hear his name. “Is… A great show…!”

“Oh, I love Honey Time!” Soonyoung chimed, wrapping his arm around you again.

“Ew, since when were you two this close?” Wonwoo asked.

“Since… Today! Happy birthday!” you cheered. “Please, can you take me home…?”

“You can stay the night if you want,” Soonyoung offered.

“Nope, nuh-uh, I won’t allow it. Hansol, walk her home -”

“Ugh, shut up for once, Wonwoo!” you scolded. The whole room was silent at your outburst, but you didn’t care. You certainly didn’t care for Hansol’s hurt expression, either. “Forget it, I’ll go by myself.”

“Yah, _____ -!”

You stormed off into the dark streets. The beginning of the night was a lot warmer, but now you could feel every goosebump on your exposed skin. It felt numbing, but you didn’t care anymore. You were drunk, exhausted, and over it.

You knew someone was following behind you. You hoped it was either Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and even Mingyu, but you prayed to God it wasn’t Hansol - he was the last person you wanted to see. But normally, Wonwoo would be nagging you for being such a brat just now, Soonyoung would have walked really close to you, and Mingyu would have pulled you into a headlock. But the person behind you did neither of those things.

Hansol watched the way you walked in front of him. At first, your stride was angry - you stomped the concrete like you hate it. To be honest, it was really cute. But then you progressively got slower, dragging your feet and hanging your head low. You looked tired - no, exhausted - mentally, physically, emotionally, and it was all his fault.

You felt a heavy jacket get thrown over you shoulders before you fell face-first on the grass in front of you.

“Oh, shit,” Hansol said, kneeling beside you. “My bad. Are you ok?”

“Don’t touch me,” you muttered into the ground. “I’ll just lay here.”

“Then I’ll lay with you.”

“No, I don’t want you to.”

“Unless you can get up, you don’t have much of a choice, do you?”

“I can just feel your smug smirk piercing through me. I want to smack that smirk off of your dumb, beautiful face,” you threatened.

Hansol gently helped you up from the ground and held you at arms length. One hand plucked pieces of grass from your hair while the other kept you from swaying side-to-side. He couldn’t hold in his growing grin when you pouted at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes.

“I said don’t touch me…”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not Hyejin.”

“And I’m not Soonyoung.”

“Obviously not by the way you danced with Hyejin tonight. Soonyoung can dance way better than you ever could! And it was the best time of my life!”

Hansol knows the intention behind your words was meant to hurt him, and to be honest, it did, but the way that you were acting was so cute that he ignored the slight sting in his chest.

“Do you want me to call him to walk you home instead?” he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes.”

“Ah, you were supposed to say no.”

You ignored his comment as you stumbled passed him, making your way home once more. Hansol continued to follow behind you, catching you at least three more times when you tripped on the uneven sidewalk, earning himself another three snarky remarks about how you weren’t Hyejin and to keep his hands off of you.

When you stood in front of you apartment, you chucked the jacket harshly in his face.

“I deserve that,” he said.

“Go home.”

“Are you jealous of Hyejin?”

“Are you jealous of Soonyoung?”

“Yes,” he admitted without hesitation, catching you off guard. “And Wonwoo. And Mingyu. And any guy who comes even close to you.”

“Why?” you scoffed.

“Are you jealous of Hyejin?” he repeated. The small smirk on his face told you he already knew the answer.

“… Yes.”

“Ok,” his smirk widened. “Good night, _____.”

“Wait, what? You can’t just leave! Now I have questions!” you cried.

“I’ll answer them when I see you tomorrow.”

“That’s funny, because I definitely don’t remember agreeing to that.”

“It’s my way of saying I want to see you tomorrow.” And before you realized it, Hansol started to back away, making him the winner of this sad argument. He winked, smiling at the charming way you blushed so easily. “Sweet dreams, _____.”

You slept two whole hours that night.

[raeyvies]

What if MC didn’t take care of herself while V was hospitalized ? (based on day 10) pt. 3

Actually wrote this a lot faster than I thought. Then again I already had half written by the time I posted pt.2. This part is a little slower, but it’s centered around Jihyun. Oh and MC’s blood results came back! Remember, MC here is MC Jeon because I gave her a last name. 

Thank you so much again to those who gave me such positive comments! I hope you enjoy this part and well stick around for the next part because more is gonna start happening :D!

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt.4 // Pt.5 // Pt. 6

Length: 2022 words

Part: 3/?

Pairing: VxMC

Warnings: none

Sorry for any grammatical mistakes ^^;;

Jihyun’s night turned out to be so much longer than he would have liked it to be. Since Jumin left, the room was just a cloud of silence and it was suffocating in the least. It bothered him that he woke up so close to the end of visiting hours. It was around 10:30 pm that he woke up and MC fell unconscious. He wanted to scream everything on his mind. Having no one to distract him, no one to talk to him, he was left to his thoughts. And anyone who knew what it was like to be alone to your thoughts in the dead of night was torture.

Jumin’s disappointed yet concerned words resonated in his ears and because of them, Jihyun was now looking back on his life. Had he always been this way? Why had he not seen how selfish he bad become? Even when he said he gave his all to Rika, he was really taking everything from her. How could anyone handle him? How could MC do this to herself someone like him?

Everything that seemed to make sense in his life no longer did.

Was it because he was now starting to change? Was it because he finally had an outside lens into his life? All these questions swam around in his sea of thoughts and refused to let him be at peace. At least for one night so he could recuperate would be enough. If Jihyun could recover, he could take care of MC. But negativity ate at him for what felt like an eternity, especially since the only clock in the room was across the room where he could not see.

If he was being truthful with himself, Jihyun was even avoiding looking at MC. Seeing her in such a state only made him feel so worthless and like a burden. He had promised her since the beginning that he would protect her. Save her. But it had been the opposite all this time and all he ever repaid her with was anxiety. He even began to admit to himself that it was his stubbornness and he needed to change that about himself as soon as he could if he wanted everything else in his life to change.

Stirring in bed only made his wound that much more painful so he could not even fidget that night. Constantly rubbing his eyes, he hoped that some drops of sleep and tiredness would rain on him. But it did not come until much later around midnight. It was at that time that another nurse came in to check on MC that exhaustion finally kicked in, sending him off to another world where he could escape such pessimistic thoughts. And he did not wake up until six in the morning when light shown through the window, courtesy of the early morning sun

The pain in his abdomen had subsided quite a bit, much to Jihyun’s relief. But now he was absolutely hungry, his stomach growling for food. It took him a while to completely wake up as he was drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness, his eyelids fluttering and fighting to remain open. It was not until he noticed that now there were two nurses checking up on MC, as opposed to the previous single nurse. They were injecting medicine directly into her veins and from what little Jihyun could perceive, he managed to hear them say that the blood work came in.

Jihyun grunted as he shifted into a sitting position on his bed and asked the nurses with a raspy voice, “I hear you two saying something about her blood tests. May I know what results came back in?”

The new nurse was not sure of he was allowed to know but the other was there when Jumin gave his permission to discuss MC’s test results with his friend. The nurse came to his bedside and showed him the document with all the information he needed to know. He squinted and rubbed his eyes hoping to focus on the letters but he was either too exhausted yet or his vision was worsening. It was most probable that it was the latter.

The nurse explained to him about the findings in her blood and said, “According to Miss Jeon’s tests, she's been developing anemia for a while now. Of course, it's nothing alarming or to worry about so much because it's easily treatable. That's why she was so cold last night.”

“I see… So, even with that condition, she'll be fine?”

“She should be. We're just giving her iron supplements and vitamin B now that we know. She has a low red blood cell count so that may contribute to still being asleep. With anemia, it means she'll be easily fatigued and lightheaded, but we'll discuss more about this when her guardian arrives,” the nurse informed Jihyun and then placed the documents elsewhere before returning to his side. “I'm also going to need to check your wound for the moment.”

Still trying to become fully aware of everything, he awkwardly lowered his blankets and lifted his shirt for the nurse to see. With a nod he gave, the nurse began to examine his wound. She also checked around the area for any tenderness, to which gave Jihyun discomfort, drawing a pained moan from his mouth. Once done with the examination, he pulled down his shirt and was informed that he was healing just fine and that he could walk now; finally being allowed the walk elated him so much but he knew he could not simply walk expecting to have the same strength in his lower body. After all, he had been confined to a bed for over twenty six hours.

Before the nurse could leave, Jihyun’s stomach growled again and it reminded him to ask for breakfast if was allowed to eat yet. Fortunate enough, the nurse told him that someone would bring him food soon. However, he was defeated by drowsiness and did not get to eat breakfast until much later around noon. Might as well be lunch then.

Admittedly, it was hard to push down the food they gave him because of its undesirable bland taste. If anything it felt like he was eating plastic. But Jihyun knew he needed something in his body to start functioning well again. Finishing up what little breakfast they served him, he drank up some grape juice and set the tray aside at the end of his bed. Considering that he was fully awake now, he removed his blankets, slowly and carefully, and his feet found their way to the floor. Shivers traveled up his body as he felt the floor was almost like ice. Jihyun grabbed hold of his IV, using it as his support as he walked over to MC. It was a painfully slow process and he thought his legs would give in very soon.

Sitting on her bedside, Jihyun laid his hand on hers and compared to last night, her hands were much warmer, to his relief. It seemed that the medication and supplements were helping her out, seeing as her skin was not as pale anymore. Listening to her steady breathing was soothing as well. Jihyun could not help but feel more than just worry and a desire to protect her. Part of him was developing affection for her, but he was hesitant to let it come over him. Simply knowing the last time he cared for anyone deeply and affectionately turned into a psychological mess, he wanted to keep some distance with MC. After all, Jihyun only caused her to worry more. He only repaid her with more concern.

Giving her hand a light squeeze, Jihyun whispered to the unconscious girl, “Don't worry about me for now. Focus on gaining strength okay? I'm alright now, so be selfish and recover. I'm not sure if you can hear me, MC, but I'm going out to walk for a bit. I want to regain my strength as soon as I can. Don't do anything dumb while I'm away, got it?”

Jihyun left the room for a while as he went out to walk in the halls of the hospital. To distract himself of the pain, he kept counting the things he saw and examined the paintings hung around the halls as decoration. Truthfully, he was also attempting to ward away his selfish and negative thoughts that made him take the blame for everything. Jumin was right and he had to change. But it was something he had always done, he forgot what it was like to be selfish. Maybe MC could teach him what it would be like.

No not yet. I can't ruin her not like everyone else.

He greeted many other patients walking around in hospital gowns identical to his, making small talk for the time to pass. He made a few laps around the same corridors before feeling exhausted. It was actually harder for him to breathe because the mere expanding and contracting of his abdomen as he did so caused him discomfort. Soon enough, he thought he could return to his room and find something to do. As he was approaching the hallway leading to his room, he heard his name being called out multiple times. Each time it sounded more broken and desperate, so he followed the voice.

It was MC who had just left her room. Her body was still slumped, meaning she was still tired, and her eyes looked around helplessly. She looked lost.

“Jihyun?” MC kept calling out though her head was still spinning. When she woke up, she did not give herself time to adjust. The moment she saw Jihyun’s bed empty, she sprang from her bed and outside the room. Just like someone who had been laid down for a long time and suddenly got dizzy upon standing, MC found herself clinging to her IV pole. She still could not focus her vision on anything so all she could see were blurry blobs of people striding along around her. And not one blob had mint colored hair. As though she were on autopilot, she was not even thinking. It was merely an instinct that she felt; that Jihyun was in danger again. “Jihyun!”

Every pained cry only widened the gash in Jihyun’s heart, and he tried his best to rush to MC. He wished he could yell out her name but that would only physically hurt him more. After turning at one more corner, he found MC appearing like a lost puppy right in front of their room. Before she could yell his name out again, he wrapped her in his embrace, coaxing her into calmness.

“I’m here. I'm okay,” Jihyun sighed and walked her back into the room, guiding her to lay down once again. “Why would you do that, MC? I know you're scared, but think of yourself first okay?”

MC was still so exhausted, and drowsy. Her appearance was still disheveled and her hair was a mess. Dark circles had formed around her eyes and Jihyun was convinced that those were not there before the incident. Her lips were so chapped that they looked white, clearly a sign that she refused to drink water yesterday. Nothing much was said by the feeble girl as she laid down once again, except a few phrase, “Lay down with...me. I need… know… you're here. Okay.”

Her grip was fragile on Jihyun’s shirt and he conceded. Despite wanting to keep distance, it was not an easy feat knowing that he had to somehow repay his debt to her. Careful and aware of the MC’s IV, he laid down in her bed next to her after grabbing his phone that was on the couch. She was quickly drifting back into an unconscious state once again, but just before leaving, she took hold of Jihyun’s hand. Their intertwined hands were laid on his chest right before she drifted off into another world again.

But she could still feel his heartbeat in her hand, and that was enough to let her fall deeper into darkness.

To be continued...

Pt. 1 // Pt. 2 // Pt. 3 // Pt.4 // Pt.5 // Pt. 6

[razieltwelve]

Opera (Final Effect)

Liara watched the recording, utterly entranced. It was part of a cultural package that she had received from the Schnee Mercantile Alliance. The recording had been labelled quite simply as a ‘vocal performance’, yet to call it that was actually insulting.

This was no mere vocal performance. The setting was unfamiliar to her, but it was nevertheless magnificent, a stage that combined elegance, simplicity, and grandeur. At the heart of the performance was a single singer, and when she sang the entire stage responded.

The voice alone was incredible, something that could only have been the result of countless hours of training along with unmatched natural talent. From soaring highs and sweeping lows, the range on display was amazing, and the purity of the voice, the harmony in each word and note… breathtaking. 

And with each note the singer sang, the stage responded, weaving displays of light and sound that turned the experience into something even more spectacular. She’d watched the recording - it was only an hour long - four times now, and she was still struggling to grasp all of the nuances and subtleties. Each time she watched it, she saw and heard something new.

A quiet squeak caught her attention, and she turned away as a hamster and a cat padded into the room. They were from the delegation of uplifted animals, and they were spending a few days on the Normandy discussing certain matters before they decided whether or not to reveal themselves to the galaxy at large. Liara would have thought the hamster to be utterly adorable - and he was - but she’d also seen what the hamster could transform into. Not even a squad of Krogan would stand a chance against a transformed war hamster.

“I’m afraid I don’t speak hamster,” Liara murmured.

The cat sighed. “That’s hamsters for you. The rest of us use translators, and he’s got one too, but he insists on speaking hamster.”

The hamster poked the cat with one paw. This time, he spoke, his voice somewhat deeper than his little frame would suggest. “You’re just jealous because hardly anyone is fluent in cat. No Dia-Farron needs a translator to understand us, and the same goes for most members of the House of Farron-Arendelle.”

Liara made a mental note to ask about that in more detail later. She’d heard the term mentioned several times, and she knew that the Fleet Admiral was part of the House, as were many officers and scientists. But what exactly was it? “Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

“You’ve been watching that recording for hours now,” the hamster said, hopping onto the cat’s back before hopping onto the table beside Liara’s hand. He snickered quietly as the cat scowled before joining him on the table. “Would you like to know what it is?”

“Yes,” Liara said. “It’s amazing.”

The hamster, who was incredibly intelligent, adopted what Tali had described as his ‘lecturing pose’ and began to speak again. “The recording was taken from the High Opera on Advent IV. The singer is Amanda Xiao-Long-Belladonna-Schnee.”

“I see…” Liara didn’t, but the hamster seemed to be waiting patiently for a question. “What exactly is the opera? How does it work?”

“I’m assuming you mean the stage in the recording. Essentially, such operas have a complex array that translates the sounds made by the performer or performers into a variety of sensory impressions. The ones you’re getting in the recording are additional sounds, as well as vision. However, the recording isn’t full sensory. If it was, you’d also be getting smells, tastes, and even a sense of touch. A true opera is a multi-sensory experience.” The hamster shrugged. “She’s certainly quite good, but she’s still at least a few years away from the Grand Opera.”

Now, Liara was definitely interested. “The Grand Opera?”

“Yes, it is the oldest and most hallowed of all operas. Only the finest vocalists in our galaxy are even permitted to set foot upon the stage. And amongst them only the very best, the most elite of the elite, are permitted to lead a performance. The sensory translation is also far, far better and more advanced than in this recording. I have been lucky enough to attend a performance there. It is like being in an entirely different world, a new reality woven by the performer, for the duration of the performance.”

“Do… do you have a recording of that?” Liara asked breathlessly.

“I do,” the hamster replied. “But it would be wasted if you can’t get multi sensory output on your device.” 

“Just fix her computer or build her something,” the cat said. “It’s not that hard for someone like you, and I’ve bet you’ve got the parts lying around somewhere, you hoarder.”

The hamster scowled. “I do not hoard stuff.”

“You’re like your master. You totally hoard stuff. That’s why you’ve got twice as many storage units as a normal hamster.” The cat sighed and gave Liara a long-suffering look. “This guy has enough material stored away to rebuild your entire ship from nothing about five times over.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” The cat poked the hamster. “So just build her something, so she can understand what you’re talking about.”

The hamster nodded to himself. “It should be okay. Obviously, you can’t take the thing I’m going to build with you. It’s also tamper- and scan-resistant, so don’t even think of trying to copy it.”

“It’s fine,” Liara said quickly. “I just want to experience what the Grand Opera is like.”

“Keep in mind, no recording can truly do it justice,” the hamster said. “Now, move over. I need to work.”

X     X     X

“Have any of you seen Liara?” Jane Shepard asked.

“She’s in her quarters.” The words came from an uplifted hedgehog who was enjoying a pack of snacks while playing poker against some of the crew. He appeared to be winning. “I think she’s chatting with Professor Huggleburgh and Patches.”

Jane would probably never get used to the bizarre names the hamsters got. At least, the uplifted cats and dogs tended to have more normal names. “Uh, thanks…” she paused. What was the hedgehog’s name again?

“Lord Quillington,” the hedgehog replied. “Although Quillington will do, I suppose.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Quillington.”

Jane found Liara in her quarters. The other woman was wearing a strange helmet of some sort, and she seemed to be utterly engrossed with whatever it was doing. A hamster and a cat were watching her in obvious amusement. However, the hamster pressed a few buttons on a controller it had when it saw Jane.

Liara made an annoyed sound. “What happened? I thought you said it went for three hours before the intermission.” She tugged off her helmet. “Professor…”

The hamster pointed at Shepard.

“Oh.” Liara grinned. “Jane! You will not believe what I’ve been listening too… I mean, I’m seeing and feeling things as well, and…” She held the helmet out to Jane. “Just try it. You won’t be disappointed.”

The next day, Jane and Liara formally requested amendments to the trade agreements that were being formalised with the Alliance. Both humans and the Asari definitely wanted access to recordings from the various operas in the Alliance, especially the Grand Opera.

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

Pull Me Under

Warning:  Long Post, no 

I really wanted to talk about what happened to me this week.

 Will I survive the night on my own?

I am a workaholic because my dad was a workaholic and he's the one who raised me I was raised and told that to ask for help is a sign of weakness. To show weakness is a sign of weakness, to tell the truth when someone asks you how you are is a sign of weakness, to slow down on any level is a sign of weakness.

 My dad live by these rules and unfortunately that caused him to die younger than he should have, falling cancer when he was normally pretty healthy.  It is also this mentality that allowed me to survive when I was left to be an orphan at the age of 20 and it is how I have lived my life since.

 However it is something that I feel needs to change now in order for me to live longer, You do not have to live your entire life in this fashion in order to survive or in order to impress people.

 I have always prided myself on not taking sick days on coming to work no matter how bad I felt and finishing my shifts because in the back of my mind I thought that any time I ever told my boss I was too sick to work they thought I was lazy, and I would go on the list of the first person to be fired if the opportunity came up.  It has always been my way to hide how I really feel, how sick I truly am, because in the long run no one cares but me anyway, and if somebody else can see that and use it as against me, somehow they're going to do it.  In the last TEN YEARS I have taken less than ten sick days from work.

 My first year teaching has changed all that because I got sick about every 2 months,  as soon as I was over one thing I was sick with something else. I had ten sick days to play with but I also had to work from 7 a.m. to 4 p.m. 5 days a week which meant I would have to take time off at some point doctor's appointments to keep myself healthy and that would eat up into my sick day time.  I think I ended the year with two days to spare and I was not going to mess with it.  

 I woke up Sunday morning knowing I was sick.  I had slept with the windows open and a cold front came in.  I could feel it growing colder but could do nothing because I was so exhausted I could not wake myself up enough to get out of bed and close them.  I woke up with chills, aches and a sore throat.  I ignored it.  I went to work.  I lasted until noon, went home and went to bed.  I should have called in for Tuesday but I did not I went to work. I had spent all of Monday freezing under 2 blankets with the heater turned up to 80 degrees.  But because I also did get some sleep and because that little bit of asleep I felt OK Tues. morning I made myself go to work.  I work the full day but  by the time it was time to go home,  I could not walk myself to my car.

 I have been fighting anxiety and dizzy spells for about a month-and-a-half so having to have someone walk me to my car really wasn't an alarm ball for me.  When I got home I tried to open some Gatorade and was shocked to find that I was too weak to get it open.  I don't own the thermometer which is something I need to change but I knew I was having a fever.  I started taking Tylenol PM but it did nothing it did not help my fever and it did not help me sleep.

 It would just so happen that I posted my symptoms to Facebook. A friend I barely knew that I had met through the Deuce fandom told me you need to go to the doctor right away you have pneumonia.  And I hate to say it but my first thought was “kid you're half my age what do you know?”.  But it did alarm me b/c he had the exact same symptoms. My sister Toni called and asked if I wanted her friend Cathy to take me to the dr.  Now normally I turn down offers like this.  Toni is now my only living sister, my family period really, and still sees me as being twelve.   And I would rather walk on broken glass than ask for help.  However I found myself agreeing to it ---maybe because of what the kid had said on Facebook--- but I still decided to go….. just not right away. I had not slept at all that night and I told my sister give me a chance to get some sleep.  The clinic I go to is open late, I could go in the afternoon .  However in the back of my own mind I was even thinking “well if you feel better after your nap just tell her you decide not to go and don't go.”

 The problem was, I couldn’t sleep, and I was getting worse. The appointed time came around I decided it was time to get out of bed………... only problem was I couldn't I couldn't make it more than two or three steps without being so overwhelmed so exhausted and dizzy I pretty much had to sit down wherever I was.  This was a problem because it is a long walk from where my house is to the driveway where you park your car as my house is in the middle of a field.  My sister’s bf Cathy is a small firecracker of a woman who could go toe to toe with the devil but is about one fourth my size.  I could not use her as a human crutch to get to the car. Again my first inclination was “go back to bed and sleep it off, go back to the doctor when you feel better” which is so ass-backwards it’s stupid, but I swear that’s how I felt.  I nearly called and told her not to come back but thank god I didn’t.  Cathy, being the resourceful woman that she is, drover her SUV through the field and up to my door.  I got into the car and she took me to the clinic.  At the clinic everyone stared because I needed a wheelchair to be brought in.

 Now let me discuss another component of why I have been reluctant to go to the doctor.  I have been going to a small clinic since I moved home and I really like it.  I recently found out that the guy I had a crush on my entire senior year of high school and freshman year of college is a nurse practitioner there whom I have not seen in 25 years. These stupid narcissistic fifteen-year-old in me would always say “Don’t go!  You look like shit and what if you get him as the one who sees you.”   I knew he worked there from calling in to get lab results from my last bouts with dizziness in April where I was given a clean bill of health.  I called the clinic to get my results only to have a friendly voice call me by my maiden name and ask (already knowing the damn answer) if I remembered him.

 So anyway at 3 pm Cathy wheels me in in the wheelchair and asked me if I want her to stay. I am already feeling guilty because she has offered to go get me some groceries which I desperately need and obviously can't get for myself so I tell her no there's no need for her to waste more time by waiting for me at the clinic just go ahead get the groceries I'll call her when the appointment is over just because I'm pretty sure they're just going to give me a prescription and send me back home.  The nurse takes my information, takes my blood pressure pulse and temperature then wheels me into another room where my worst nightmare comes true.  

 Lo and behold here comes My High School Crush. Only this time there is no witty banter no hey how you doing.  He looks at me and says   “You are very sick you need to be in the hospital.  If you were just dropped off here, I am going to call you an ambulance right now.”  He even gave me back my copay!   I know this is serious.   I called Cathy and told her she had to come back. Normal blood pressure is 120/80 and mine has always run just slightly lower than that.  A resting pulse rate for me is 85-99.   When my vitals were checked at the clinic my bp was 80/40, my pulse was 120 and I had 102 fever.

 I didn’t feel like my pulse was that fast, I wasn’t having no trouble breathing, I was just weak and tired.    BUT THAT’S JUST IT.  I’M A TEACHER, I AM ALWAYS FUCKING TIRED….just not hat bad. I got into the ER just as a trauma is coming in on an Angel Flight.  I know I’m going to be there a whle and tell Cathy to go home because there’s nothing she can do for me anymore anyway and I don’t want her to see me this sick.   My ex would never take me to the ER when I was sick, always made me go alone because he “hates hospitals, and get bored there’ so I was used to being in the ER alone. I wait about 30 min in the waiting room which honestly is not bad.   One they take my vitals they whisk me back to a bed.   They had to stick me 3 times to get an IV going, took blood, tried to catheterize me FIVE TIMES which left me literally screaming in pain (my lady parts are quite small and delicate).  I am given THREE bags of IV fluids before they can start to stabilize me.  But I’m too sick and exhausted to even be scared.

 I mean, I was scared, I knew it was serious and i prayed a lot but I literally did not have the energy to expend on being scared and worried. Those are the times I miss having someone with me.  Not in the waiting room but in the back to hold my hand when I’m getting stuck with needles and poked at and shit.  Just someone to tell me “It’s gonna be okay.”    But I didn’t have it and I haven’t that in so long I have learned to survive without it.    Every orderly, and nurse I saw (didn’t see a doctor for 4 hours) told me:  “You are one sick lady”.   But I was not in any pain, I could breathe fine, I was just so tired.

  A lady comes to go over my information.  I am asked if my sister Terri is still my emergency contact and I have to say the words “No she died two weeks ago” and it is hardest thing to say.  I wanted to follow it up “in this very ER” but I don’t.    As they are wheeling me down the halls to get a CAT scan on my chest I see the inside of the hospital really for the first time and it hits me fully:  THE LAST TIME I WAS IN THIS HOSPITAL WAS WHEN MY MOM DIED WHEN I WAS 12 AND NOTHING HAS CHANGED.   So now not only am I middle aged, helplessly sick and at the mercy of the world, I am also 12 years old, helpless, at the mercy of the world and watching my mom die.  Every door we pass looks like the door to the room she died in.

Now I know why I had nightmares of hospitals all the time when I was in college.  It never made sense then but it does now.  It was this hospital I was dreaming of and now I’m right back there.

 At 8 pm I am told I have pneumonia and am “septic”, which I had to literally google when I got home.  I knew it was not a good thing to be and always thought it meant your blood had been poisoned.    At 9 pm I am told I am being admitted.  At 10 pm I meet some of the nicest nurses I have ever met in my life in the ICU unit. The exact same ICU unit and quite possibly same room my mom spent a good deal of the last days of her life in as well.   On my fifth bag of IV fluid my pulse has only gone down to 108 and my blood pressure has only poked up to 96/56.   I am tied to so many machines I feel like I’m in the Matrix.  I don’t sleep for three days and getting out of bed to walk two steps to the toilet (which I am now having to do every 15 min b/c of the IV fluids) is enough to leave me out of breath and push my pulse rate back up.   This is also hard because of all the tubing and leads attached to me that I must pull, balance and not step on or let get tangled.  The bed is an ergonomic nightmare that is impossible to get up from even though it is just inches off the floor. It takes 10 bags of IV fluids, 3 bags of antibiotics, 3 shots in the stomach for blood thinner (PAINFUL) and three bags of potassium and magnesium before my vitals get to anywhere near the normal range. There are literally pages more I could write but I am still recovering and need some sleep.

[mercyimagines-blog]

New York, New York

Requested by anonymous: I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! Can you do one where shawn finished a concert, on his way to a plane to go to you and he get in a car accident. After months in coma he wakes up and your still there waiting for him even if a lot of people told you to move on?

Note: tears, just tears and it’s super long so prepare yourselves

-

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 11; 7:37 PM EST

This was not happening.

You were not going to let this happen.

Everyone was silent.

And then you lost it.

“Are you kidding me?! You totally cheated!” You laugh, lightly kicking your younger brother.

“Pay up.” Noah smirks and you roll your eyes, giving him the twenty dollars you bet him.

“Want some more pizza?” You ask, standing and opening the lid to the pizza box, taking your phone out of your back pocket.

“Nah, I’m full.” Noah says and you don’t answer, noticing that Shawn had called and left a voicemail.

Raising your phone up to your ear, you listened quietly.

“Hey baby, I wanted to let you know that I’m headed to the airport right now. I’m on my way home to you, can’t wait to see you, shit. I miss you like crazy and I can’t wait to hug you, I love you. Give me a call back. See you soon.”

The message ends and you look at your phone, noting that he left the message around an hour ago - meaning he would probably be on the plane, or at the airport with his team, at least.

However, you still press the phone icon and listen to it as it rings, hoping you’ll hear his voice.

“This is Shawn, I’m not available right now. Leave me a message.”

You hang up, thinking he’s already on the plane and headed his way towards you.

9:37 PM

You stifle a yawn as you take a seat on the couch, feeling as sleep makes your eyes droop. Although, when your cell phone rings, you are wide awake - hoping it’s Shawn, saying he’s outside.

As you looked at the caller ID, though, it wasn’t Shawn who was calling you; Karen’s name came up on your screen.

“Hi, Karen.” You say, smiling slightly.

It was then when you heard the panic in her voice.

It was then when you listened to her sob as she struggled to get words out.

It was then when she asked you to pack a bag, everyone was going to New York.

It was then when she told you Shawn had been in an accident.

It was bad.  

You rush to get things into a backpack, not needing much as your mind was racing and tears were threatening to spill over onto your cheeks.

How could this be happening?

Shawn didn’t deserve this, any of it.

He deserved everything good in life, not to almost be taken from it.

11:30 PM

You held Aaliyah’s shaking hand as Karen and Manny led the way into NewYork-Presbyterian, trying to find their son.

Karen was just as distraught as she looked and you could tell that Manny was trying to hold everything together - because that’s who he was as a person.

John and Geoff walked out of a hall and they noticed all four of you immediately, Karen profusely asking where her son was.

It seemed as if Geoff had barely come out unscathed - his left temple was stitched up as his right arm was in a sling and cast. John had noticeable bruises and dried blood scattered against his face, as well as having both of his hands bandaged - one of his wrists in a brace.

Your heart slammed against your chest violently, threatening to drop out of your body as you took into account that Shawn was not with them, with only a few scrapes and bruises.

Karen was talking to John and Geoff, almost in hysterical tears and Manny is about to rip someone’s throat out because they won’t tell him where his damn son is and it unnerves you. You’ve never seen them like this, in complete and utter panic and you’re going to be honest - it scared the shit out of you. Aaliyah sniffles loudly beside you, keeping in tears as she hugs you and you cradle her head against your chest and the palm of your hand, not knowing what was going on at all.

A doctor comes towards your group and begins speaking to Manny, giving him a sad look.

“You and your family can follow me, Mr. Mendes.”

What happens next, you almost couldn’t stomach.

You’re all lead to the ICU and the doctor stops you outside of a door.

“I’m afraid to say that Shawn has suffered the worst of the crash. The car directly impacted with his side of the vehicle; resulting in multiple broken bones, a punctured lung and head trauma. He is in a medically induced coma due to that - however, at this very point in time, we are unsure of when he will wake up.”

You almost dropped to your knees in a fit of sobs, but Aaliyah did that for you as you held onto her. You stood there with your mouth open and eyes burning, thinking this whole thing is so incredibly wrong.

“Can we see him?” Manny’s voice shakes as he holds Karen in his arms.

The doctor nods sadly and opens the door, walking away to give you all some privacy.

As you entered the room, Shawn looked battered to a pulp as tubes are shoved down his throat and wires are pinned into his arms, one for blood, another for an IV and others connected to his chest under the gown that he was wearing.

This was not the Shawn you waved goodbye to at the airport.

Not being able to bare looking at him anymore - you walk outside and sit in the chair in the hall, right next to the door.

Your breaths got shorter and shorter until finally, your tears left your eyes and you slouched forward - hanging your head in your hands as you sobbed quietly to yourself.

And later that night, you listened to the voicemail again.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 13; 9:15 AM

Shawn had been transferred from the hospital in New York to one in Toronto, his family wanting him home.

However, it was no different in this hospital room than it was in the other. The only real difference was that your home was fifteen minutes away, not an hour and a half away.

You sat and listened to the sound of his heartbeat on the machines, and the sound of the machine that pumped air into his lungs.

A knock at the door sounded and you lift your head lightly to see Manny at the doorway, holding some coffee cups and pastries from a shop down the street. He smiles sadly and hands you a cup and pastry, you thanking him quietly. Your eyes were itchy and irritated from all the crying you had done in the past two days and honestly, you think you’re all cried out. (Probably not true).

It seemed as if none of you had left Shawn’s side in the past couple of days, only leaving his room to use the bathroom or to go to the cafeteria. However, since it was Monday and no teacher was going to excuse this - Aaliyah had to go to school.

So, that’s where Karen had gone off to - taking Aaliyah to school.

As Karen told Aaliyah it was time to go, Aaliyah pointed out that when Shawn was home, he was the one taking her to school.

That hurt.

It all hurt.

Not being able to hear his voice, his laugh, his singing.

It was painful.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, shutting your eyes tight, before sipping at the coffee Manny so heavenly supplied.

“He looks so vulnerable, all the time.” Manny said, staring sadly at his son.

Your eyes flick to Manny, seeing him slouched in his chair and eyes puffy. Pulling the paper cup away from your mouth, you look again towards your unconscious boyfriend - your heart aching.

Bruises had clearly developed along his once very prominent jaw line and one of his eyes had swollen shut, causing you pain just to look at him.

“He does.” Your scratchy voice quietly answers, not moving your eyesight from him. 

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 24; 5:03 PM

Your brain throbs as the laptop in front of you flashed some difficult inverse math equations.

You desperately wanted the beeping to quiet, causing a headache - but you knew that was the only way you knew that Shawn was still alive.

And with that information, came hope.

A few of your friends had come to visit Shawn, as well as a few of his own and it made you feel slightly better.

Slightly.

You were still miserable.

They told you it had been a full week and a half, saying that’s a long time for someone to be in a coma.

You argued, telling them that people had gone for months in a coma and come out just fine; their mouths snapped shut.

Karen told you that they were going to spend Christmas here at the hospital, and since they knew you weren’t leaving (even when they pestered you to spend it with your own family) they told you that you were always welcome to join them.

Your mother of course requested your presence at Christmas morning and dinner when she came to visit. You politely declined, not wanting to leave Shawn. There was no way you could do that to him.

Although, your mother did beg you one day to come home and rest and shower, which you said no to at first, but decided it was a good idea - with reservations.

Karen was with you everyday, as was Manny, while Aaliyah of course, had to go to school. But after, she was right with you all.

Aaliyah brought a deck of cards which you and her would play in the cafeteria - relieving some of this panic and stress.

Your professors sent all your work to you electronically, knowing you were stubborn and were not going to come to class.

A yawn racks through your body as you look at Shawn, his voice playing in your head.

“You know, with a mouth as wide as that, you can eat a beehive.”

“What? Why in the hell would I want to eat a beehive, Mendes?”

“Just a thought, babe.”

“A weird and slightly demented one.”

“Sorry?”

And after that he laughed, kissing your forehead. You would give anything to have that back.

As he sat in that hospital bed, it was hard to imagine that was the same boy who would take you to help him pick out a new guitar and discuss names for it - as if it were a pet or a child.

It all seemed like some twisted nightmare.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 12; 2:49 PM

It had been a whole month, with no signs of him making his way onto the path to recovery.

It was tiring.

It was exhausting.

It was downright painful.

The voicemail he had last sent you was what you fell asleep to every night, the sound of his calming voice. It was your only connection to when Shawn was conscious, at this point in time. Most of the time though, you would cry the second you heard it - and by the time you had played it for the one hundredth time, you were asleep. 

You had been home a lot more to rest as Karen or Manny forced you to get some sleep in your own bed. You would take and/or pick Aaliyah up from school, often. You were alone a lot - not wanting to deal with any of your friends as they continuously told you he wasn’t going to get any better and you should let him go.

“Maybe I should let my negative ass friends go. Because when he wakes up-”

“If.”

“When, I’ll be right by his side because I love him. And when you love someone, you don’t give up on them, especially when they need you the most.”

That’s when you would leave, wanting to get away from all the bullshit that clouded you whenever you were with them.

You came to the hospital today, having brought some fan mail that Shawn had received from his very worried, very supportive fans.

When you broke the news to them in an Instagram video - it seemed like the world imploded. You had thought it did, too.

“I brought some mail for you today, Shawn. They’re all from fans who are wishing you well in your recovery. And no, they’re not mad, at all. They care more about you, then anything else in the whole world.” You say the last part softly, relating.

Your eyes go to him, a huge breath slipping out of your mouth.

Nothing.

You had hoped since you started talking to him, it would help him come back.

Come back to you.

Come back to his family.

Come back to himself.

Karen looked at her son, wanting to know if that would create any kind of reaction and when it didn’t, she looked away sadly and went back to flipping through her magazine that rested in her lap.

“Shawn! I shot two goals today at practice and freaking slayed against this one kid on the team who was supposed to be on the “other team.” Well, anyway, I slammed him into the wall and he cried like a baby - it was hilarious.” Aaliyah says as she comes into the room, her sweaty jersey still around her body.

She waves her hands around like a mad woman, but stops as there was no reaction from Shawn.

No one said anything afterwards, accompanied by the beeping that you had managed to block out.

MONDAY, JANUARY 31; 4:28 AM

Manny had fallen asleep in the chair across the room, as both Karen and Aaliyah were fast asleep on a portable bed that the staff had rolled in.

You had scooted your chair right u against Shawn’s bed, allowing you to rest your head against your arms on the side of his bed, inches away from his hand that lay still.

Your eyes observed the way his skin glowed under the dim lights, his bruises faded weeks ago.

You raise your head, shakily grabbing his IV stuck hand in yours, pressing your lips delicately to the top.

Slowly setting it down, but keeping your hand against his, you open your mouth, gaze dropping.

“My mom asked me what I was going to do if you didn’t wake up, today.” Your voice is quiet as the possibility slammed against the inside of your brain, terrifying you. “I told her I didn’t know because you are going to wake up.” You say, trying to convince yourself more than anything.

At this point, you didn’t know anymore.

Doctors said his vitals remained the same, giving you no reason to raise your hope levels - but not giving you a reason to lose hope altogether.

“I need you to wake up, Shawn.” You say, sniffling. “Your mom may look like she’s fine - but it’s killing her that she can’t cook with you at night anymore, teaching you new recipes. Your dad may look like he’s fine, too, but every time I see him, I know he’s breaking just a little bit more. And Aaliyah, god, Aaliyah. She’s staying strong, staying tough. But, it’s hard when I have to listen to her cry herself to sleep because her older brother isn’t around to drive her to hockey practice or to make fun of her for something stupid.” You pause, wiping tears from your cheeks. “And me, well, I’m a god damned mess. Please - please, come back to us, baby. Come back to us.”

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18; 12:18 PM

It startled you at first, your eyes losing sight of the paper you were writing.

Your eyes stayed on Shawn’s face, as you swore his head moved.

And when a sound came from his mouth, around the tubes that were breathing for him - you almost dropped your laptop, heart racing.

Karen, Manny and Aaliyah had stepped out of the room momentarily for different reasons, saying they would be back soon. And now, you were wishing they had waited five more minutes.

You sat on the edge of Shawn’s bed, breathing rapidly.

His finger twitched with his right arm and you almost burst into tears at the sight.

Then, came the unexpected.

Shawn took a huge breath - not from the machine, and began gagging at the fact that there was a tube shoved down his throat.

“I need some help in here!” You screamed loudly out the door, doctors flooding in as the beeping began to speed up.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

This was it.

He was waking up.

You held onto the wall, feeling lightheaded and as if you were going to pass out from excitement.

You heard him take his first breath on his own, without a tube down his throat and slowly walked towards him.

“Shawn?” You cry, holding onto yourself.

His brown eyes that you loved so much, were open and looking at you - although he did seem as if they looked a little blurry.

His body was stiff as he adjusted himself slightly and looked at you in confusion.

“Shawn?” You ask again, voice louder.

His nose scrunched up and the wrinkles in his forehead appeared, making you almost die from how happy you were.

“Who are you?”

And your heart dropped.

“What?” You ask, lip wobbling.

“Are you another nurse?”

You look around, the doctors looking at each other.

“Shawn, it’s me.”

“My name is Shawn?”

You almost stopped breathing yourself, until a small smile made its way onto that beautiful face of his.

“I’m just playing, baby.”

You burst into tears.

“You asshole! What makes you think that was okay?” You cry, collapsing against the bed.

His smile disappears as he appears worried and leans forward, taking you into his arms for the first time in months.

God, did it feel good.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.”

You kissed him, you kissed him like you needed air - desperately.

“How long have I been out?” He asks, softly, his eyes searching yours.

Shawn’s thumb moves to swipe your tears from your eyes as you dreaded to say these words.

“You’ve been in a coma for two months.”

Shawn physically seems as if that crippled him, his breathing getting heavier.

“Listen though,” you wipe your nose on your sleeve. “You’re okay, and that’s what matters.”

You both cry together as he held you in his arms - your stomach feeling fluttery and content.

As Shawn’s family came in, they all burst into tears - overwhelmingly happy as Aaliyah hugged him while his parents attacked him with touches and kisses.

He was back, and you thank god every day.

-

the ending absolutely sucked, but I still hope ya’ll enjoyed!!

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