#not edited whatsoever because i need to be sleeping soon

[kenzan-kiwami]

i think i need to finally rip those substories apart. going to start with chapter 8 since obviously that comes first

beware, it's long. mentions of a substory in ch.12, but nothing main plot-related beyond ch.8

edit: i'm a bit tired and i'm letting off steam by doing this so i think my wording outside the readmore is a bit aggressive but i assure you this is a 1.6k word lovepost

first thing i did was have a look at nanba's line about kashiwagi being a sweet guy deep down, because i'm told tsuruno's line about him being a "scary-ass bartender" wasn't totally faithful to the intent of the original, but i think it (and all of the other ones i checked here) are, for the most part, close enough. i may get into the others more later. from what i can gather nanba just says, "the bartender is kinda scary, but he's a good person so you'll be alright/don't worry," sort of thing.

but the way kiryu and kashiwagi stop when they see each other is shocking to the core. you get some nice sort of establishing shots of the top of the bar counter and kashiwagi polishing a glass before they show his face (potentially also where kiryu's eyes went first?) and then the next time you see his hands he's paused right in the middle of what he was doing. he's practiced (or seen) enough that his jaw doesn't drop the way kiryu's does, but he has to purse his lips a little in an attempt to stop them from quivering. it takes until nanba asks if they've met before for him to scramble inside his head for something to say, and only then is he able to lead the conversation on (but not without his voice catching in his throat a little bit). the game never says this outright, but the way kashiwagi is as shocked as kiryu is when he walks into survive definitely says to me that he'd also found out kiryu "died" in 2016

kiryu's eyebrows tremble quite visibly after kashiwagi speaks up for the first time to deny they'd met before - how could he say that, with that voice? - but he rolls with it, much to his (what i'm reading as) visible dismay. but then he pulls out this unnecessarily deep bow to kashiwagi?? and i didn't think much of it at the time, but this comment i found on a youtube video recontextualised the entire exchange to me:

literally driving me insane. kiryu's SO choked up over this and trying desperately not to show it. there's simply no other reason for kiryu of all people to be bowing so deeply to someone he's "just met" and "mistaken" the identity of.

kashiwagi's next line (jpn: いいえ、どうかお気になさらず) is a bit contentious to me, but i can't tell at this point if i'm nitpicking too hard or not - it seems to translate fairly literally to "no, please don't worry," but he's subtitled as saying "please. it happens to the best of us," which is (again) close enough but it feels like another one of those strange lines that got edited a bit too hard. i don't think the inferred meaning of "no, it's ok, there's nothing you could have done differently" is totally lost, but you take a slightly different route to get there, kind of thing?

it also doesn't really account for the way bowing to people like that isn't as much of a thing outside east asia. of course, most people with a cursory knowledge of japanese culture are aware of the existence of bowing, but the nuances of its use here i feel could have been made slightly more obvious in localisation to get that point across. absolutely not to the point of making it glaringly obvious, but easier to infer for people who aren't totally immersed in japanese culture.*

kashiwagi, in his infinite wisdom, whips out his next trick: to say he just has one of those faces. with a huge scar running right across the middle. i don't want to say he's pissing about with the tone of the cutscene and his delivery, but it really is an absurd thing to say (and he knows it).

and then they just go back to staring at each other... kiryu's eyebrows are still going and kashiwagi's lip twitches again and i'm so glad they let this game cook for so long because all of the animations have had such thought and care put into them. it's BARELY noticeable and i've been obsessively playing back each close-up of their faces where they're not talking trying to catch any miniscule movements they make.

this next part felt heinous to watch back after seonhee's fifth drink link because who ELSE but her would also know who kashiwagi is? she knows exactly what's happening between the two of them, and swoops in to save them from another awkward staring contest. she's lying through her teeth in front of saeko and nanba, which honestly just makes me wonder what kashiwagi's conditions for hiding his identity are if he's not telling the party. i can't imagine it'd be tojo clan related since the great dissolution had happened four years ago by this point, but the daidoji kashiwagi theories i've seen floating around feel equally ridiculous to me. what use does daidoji have for a guy in (probably) his sixties who's spent the last decade of his life running an empty bar on purpose? (he's still holding the glass and towel still in his hands at this point.)

he perks up again when seonhee railroads them all into getting the karaoke going, and it's really... nice? to see a man like kashiwagi expressing his gratitude for them being there so openly. he mentions it himself in a later conversation, but being a yakuza meant he was never really allowed to show much emotion. the HLA was his side gig kiryu never even found out about until after the helicopter attack, and the other patriarchs in Y3 called him "soft" for working to resolve conflict rather than instigate it, but 7 and 8 are the only times you get to see him wholeheartedly express things like pleasure and joy on screen. it's refreshing to see, and even more so after he says he consciously had to repress himself to get by before. i'd done a whole thing before this game came out about how he IS a deeply caring man under his harsh exterior and i'll tell you now i'm feeling extremely validated by his appearances here.

kiryu bows again as he walks past the bar to sit down - this time just his head - and kashiwagi hangs his head in return. both nanba and seonhee turn and catch him looking down with the glass still held awkwardly in his hands, and i'd imagine seeing him like that is something completely new to everyone in the room at that moment. it cuts away and he finally finds himself again, and he goes back to polishing the glass. he's stood there for the better part of a minute and a half with a glass in his hand not even doing anything with it, just out of pure shock and awe. i'm honestly not sure who handled that exchange worse (comparatively) out of the two of them.

next part doesn't have as much for me to go crazy about, but that look they exchange while kiryu is up singing makes me melt every time. every movement they make says so much. two brothers who each thought the other was dead meeting again for the first time in nearly fifteen years while kiryu ticks one of his favourite pastimes off his bucket list.

what's making me really mad, however, is the choice to use the "singable" english dub lyrics to bakamitai in the subtitles, because when you look at the more literal translation listed on the RGG Fandom wiki (only showing the lines he sings in full here):

Went chasing a dream and got hurt

Poorly disguised behind a joyless smile

"I love you" is hardly ever said

Tongue-tied and downright self-conscious

But even so, even so, why is it

"Goodbye" came so naturally?

It's no use, no use, no use at all

and the line re-recorded for this scene:

So then what are they, these tears—what a fool

bakamitai is vague on purpose. ostensibly and according to the wiki it's about a woman reflecting on her relationship with an ex, but the lyrics omit gendered pronouns at the beginning, and no women actually sing this song in the games... karaoke is one of the few methods kiryu has to really express his feelings, and there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that, here, he's singing about himself, about kashiwagi, to kashiwagi. and the official translated lyrics don't hit anywhere close to the same in this regard.

now i will admit i've been having some difficulty discerning kiryu's tone in this last part i'm going to talk about. he gets annoyed that everyone was chatting through his song, and goes to sit down and lecture them. my first thought as i originally watched this was that he queued judgement himself, but looking back now and thinking about how stuck in his own head kiryu can get, i'm not so sure that was the case.

once again it was a youtube comment that got me thinking (so thanks for that), but he does seem so genuinely annoyed that he wants to sit down and drink again - which he does, but then the song starts up and he drawls out this どうゆう意味だなぁ？and i can't tell if it's meant to be sarcastic (which would line up with him having queued the song himself) or... incensed? exasperated? i can't think of a good word for it, but it's that kind of fake-annoyed only a good friend or sibling can drag out of you, which would imply he really had planned to sit down, and kashiwagi started his favourite song to cheer him up and get everyone going again.

i think i like the second option better.

[alienintrees]

Beatles songs that remind me of Grantaire

because I can and will mash together all of my obsessions something something 60s AU.

this is already long so i'll be shortening some quotes but also it's. it's abt les mis ofc it's super long

also thank you Genius.com annotations on Beatles songs

Do You Want To Know A Secret - im a sucker for cute enjoltaire shit.

I Want To Hold Your Hand - cmon. cmon. you know why.

Yesterday - feels like "let me sleep here until I die" like R thinking abt how a couple days ago he was just hanging out and joking with his friends and now he's forced to process the fact that they're not going to survive the barricade.

Nowhere Man - this song is based on John not being sure of who he was, "doing nothing and going nowhere" which is very R. also features the line "he's as blind as he can be" which reminds me of "no one loves the light like the blind man".

With a Little Help from my Friends - R cares abt his friends. I think that, while he wouldn't admit it, Les Amis mean so much to him. He needs them. "I get by with a little help from my friends" "he took no pleasure anywhere but there; he followed them everywhere. His joy was to see these forms go and come through the fumes of wine."

Fool on the Hill - "Day after day, alone on a hill, the man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still. But nobody wants to know him, they can see that he's just a fool" ok this is reminds me of "All those words: rights of the people, [revolution, etc.] came very near to signifying nothing whatsoever to Grantaire. He smiled at them. Scepticism, that caries of the intelligence, had not left him a single whole idea."

Blue Jay Way - (omg i need more people to listen to this song i love it so much) similar to yesterday. "and my friends have lost their way. 'We'll be over soon,' they said, now they've lost themselves instead" again, thinking about how his friends are going to die. "Ask a policeman on the street, there's so many there to meet" mk so the song itself is about George waiting for the other Beatles to come to his house but they are lost in a fog. Blue Jay Way overlooks an area called the Sunset Strip, where a series of riots took place. "please, don't be long, or I may be asleep". he falls asleep at the barricade.

Hello, Goodbye - oh nooo Enjolras and Grantaire arguinggg. smth smth uhhhh Grantaire's laid-back nature compared to Enjolras' austere nature. which one is "you" and which one is "I"?i don't know, i think it sort of changes depending on the line. "You say yes, I say no, you say stop, and I say go, go, go. You say goodbye, and I say hello." "You say 'why?' and I say 'I don't know'."

Something - R and Enj "Somewhere in her smile, she knows that I don't need no other lover." "He had need of Enjolras". also "Something in the way she knows ... something in the things she shows me" "That chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid nature charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it. His soft, shapeless ideas attached themselves to Enjolras as to a spinal column. His moral backbone leaned on that firmness. Grantaire in the presence of Enjolras became someone once more." edit: alsoo R being in love with Enj but being afraid of getting closer to him because he knows that Enj is going to die. "You're asking me, will my love grow? I don't know, I don't know. You stick around, now, it may show, I don't know, I don't know" "I don't wanna leave her now, you know I believe, and how."

because I can and will find parallels between anything I like and the Beatles

[nya-vivi]

those posts about your ocs made me really interested so would you like to tell me a thing or two about some of them? :>

HIII LEN ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡ Sorry for the late reply, I have been kidnapped and subjected to academical torture but here I am again!!

Lolol I have a bunch of ocs!! Mostly of them are fandom ocs (so if there's a fandom you are interested in, do tell! I might have something, I love talking about ocs) and a few non-fandom ocs, I wasn't sure which one do you want to know about so I'm just going to ramble a bit (๑'ᴗ')ゞ

I think I will begin with my main two Genshin ocs and a secret third I'm currently working on 🤭, Lore (travelersona), Vivi (self-insert) and Qinxi (Liyue oc I'm working on, provisional name), because they may be the closest to my heart due to the heavy editing I have done to them!!

More under the cut to not clog the dash!!

The premise is like this: she is an adventurer who is searching for her lost sister, and found Aether (since I choose him at the beginning because pretty boys) and ended up forming a tag-team, since they knew both of them wouldn't distract themselves from their individual goal.

◇

So the first one of them is Lore/Lorena! She is an oc I created based on how I used my traveler and what I did with them. She is under very heavy editing, which she needed, because I have a need of being correct about the lore labdmsdl.

She loves climbing and uses a claymore. Her vision was going to be anemo, but that may be put under revision. She also loves gliding and jumping off a cliff only to open the glider last second hehe <33 she's kinda an adrenaline junkie.

In the end, the lore I thought for her was that she and her sister were children who ended up living in Khaenri'ah and was saved by Gold from a disease (under the exchange of letting her doing experiments on her) so she ended up having a artificial heart (this is a classic for me ♡) and living far more than an average person. For the fall of Khaenri'ah I had thought of having her sleep (as in, making it seem like the operation was close to that event) so her sister (alongside Lumine, because I stan Abyss Lumine so much, they are girlfriends) saved her somehow. Now the details have to be carefully thought more. But that is the general premise I wanted her to have.

But because of the recent lore, I'm afraid I will have to put her on hold, since they touched quite a lot about Khaenri'ah.

◇

And now, my darling, mi joya de la corona, the character I have most thought of and the one I probably love the most.

Vivi is a self-insert that was born due to the question: okay, but realistically, what would I do if I ended up in Teyvat? The answer was to try to work in the Knights of Favonius' Library. And it just, snowballed from there.

Mind you, this story is also completely self-indulgent and I'm proud about it. But I also wanted angst, so I had to balance both. And since I know myself and I know I would not get involved in the plot whatsoever if I knew where I was, I decided to give her a 'reincarnated villainess'-que type of beginning but making it spicy.

(She's a geo catalyst)

She's the adopted daughter of a mechanic from Fontaine and she learned a lot from him, but decided her call in life was learning ancient languages (she didn't know where she was getting into truly 💔) and got into the Akademiya. And here is where the plot thickens!

She was roped into trying to connect with the Irminsul (since a lot of people can't at first time, she was like 'why not, once and last') aand ended up connecting with the Irminsul. With that, she got her memories from her previous life (this will be expanded about if I ever get to write a fic lol) and was like 'shit'. In the end it was too late for her to withdraw from the Akademiya because she already knew canon characters (aka Kaveh and Alhaitham) and the students' debt was going to be incommensurable. So she graduated and took a job as archivist in the Akademiya.

And as soon as she could, she asked for a transfer and booked it off to Mondstadt.

She's obsessively afraid of Celestia and about knowing things (since I am a lore player) and about being persecuted by them, so she didn't want to get a vision nor have anything to do with any canon event if she could help it. So she gets a vision and let me tell you she's excited (not). She legit threw it out of her window when she saw it.

And now rightfully afraid since Celestia is aware of her, she lives her life as if she didn't know anything in Springvale.

Okay this is messy but I have a lot of lore about her, so I might expand on a different post if only for archive purposes.

For now, I am brainstorming about Sumeru's archon quest, because she will not be spared of it and her relationship with Nahida and Wanderer. It's getting pretty interesting to say the least, but still a work in process.

◇

The last one of my ocs is Qinxi (沁汐 to seep; night tides; still working on the name and having to fact-check ;-;). She still doesn't have an assigned vision or weapon, but I'm inclined towards hydro.

She was going to be a pharmacologist or a collector of medicinal plants and work with Baizhu, but the idea quickly evolved into her being a make up maker. Like, the very expensive type of make up.

She's not quite developed yet, but I have a bit of her backstory: she wanted to be an artist but her family wanted her to follow their steps (they are all make up makers). It wasn't like she didn't want to be a make up maker but wanted a bit more of life. Now she fulfills both of her dreams, making make up and hand-painting the boxes.

Both of then are so finely done that Ningguang has a full-time contract with her so she gets priority in her orders (and who's going to complain??).

She definitely deserves to have more brainstorming but a lad does as she can ಥ‿ಥ

◇

That's it, at least. All of them still need a lot of developing process and tie down details, but they are all my darlings who I love. If you have any questions I'm happy to answer them (timely this time I promise 🥲) either in comments or asks! I hope this wasn't too boring ajdbkabska I try to make things interesting and I know some people don't like to know the whole process of creating an OC, so I tried to keep things simple, short and sweet.

[cudan2]

One Last Surgery

Spring Break Shadowing Part 5.1

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,043

Summary: You finally find out the reason for going to the children’s hospital, but you’re more distracted than usual today and Dr. Cullen can tell. 

A/N: Tell me why part 5 of SBS takes up over half of the whole series? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 5 months because I keep adding more to it smh. Now it’s too long so I’ve decided to split it up into 3 parts (in addition to parts 6 and 7). I’m making the final edits the rest of this part now - 5.2 should be posted in like two days.

Anyways, this is technically the beginning of  #1 and #2 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is only across the street from Doctor Cullen’s office, but it seems to take forever to get there. You trail the doctor like a lost puppy through a skyway and a series of corridors before eventually reaching the right building. Different is definitely an understatement.

Gone are the linoleum-tiled floors, the abstract paintings lining the hallways, and the stark white walls. Instead, there are bright colors everywhere you look. Artwork featuring various galaxies and planets scatter throughout the hospital, and giant stars are imprinted along the floors; even the whole atmosphere just feels different.

You don’t get much time to analyze the differences though. Doctor Cullen is wasting no time to reach the destination, and his long legs aren’t making it any easier to keep up.

“Not that I don’t like surprises, but any chance you can tell me what we’re doing in the children’s hospital now?”

“Impatient, are we?” Doctor Cullen chuckles. He stops at an elevator and pushes the up button, only giving into your question once he catches a glimpse of your pout. “Alright, you win. Are you familiar with a cleft palate or cleft lip?”

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open with it. You shake your head no and get on the elevator with him. He presses the button for the floor and then leans against the wall, arms outstretched on the handrail, and gives you an explanation. 

“A cleft is a gap or split occurring in the roof of the mouth, upper lip, or both. It is due to improper joining of the tissue during fetal development. There are no definitive known causes as of right now, but it’s believed that the environment and genetics can play a role.

The hospital has its own craniofacial team, but I was asked to join this particular case given its more complicated nature. Hanna became one of the first patients I treated when I came to Columbia,” Doctor Cullen finishes fondly, a smile gracing his lips.

“What makes this case complicated?” you ask.

“Hanna was born with a bilateral complete cleft lip and palate, meaning her lip cleft is two-sided and continues into her nose. It took quite a few surgeries to repair the lip, but now the next step is to repair the palate.”

The elevator reaches the floor and dings. You follow Doctor Cullen out and continue prodding him with more questions, which he is more than eager to answer. It’s incredible how knowledgeable he is. Granted, it is his job to know these things, but you couldn’t begin to imagine yourself being able to even scratch the surface of these topics, not to mention give a mini lecture on it.

You’re soon standing at the door to a patient room while the doctor asks Hanna’s parents if you can observe. They readily agree, and Doctor Cullen motions for you to come in.

Inside the room, you see an infant that can’t be more than a year old – Hanna.  She’s sitting upright on the bed, leaning against who you assume to be her father. You notice two fading scars going up into her nose above her lip. Her mother is waving a stuffed toy around her, but Hanna’s attention is fixated on the blonde doctor.

“Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Hanna’s parents, Anthony and Linh Pham. And this is Doctor Giselle Adamou, who will be working with me on the surgery,” Doctor Cullen gestures to the older doctor in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say politely.

Pre-op goes differently than what you’ve gotten used to observing this week. There is no case presenting given the lack of residents on the case. If anything, this is what you would expect out of a non-teaching hospital.

Doctor Cullen re-explains the procedures to Hanna’s parents, but halfway through, Hanna crawls to the end of the bed where Doctor Cullen is and attempts to stand, arms outstretched as if to say, “Up! Up!” Bewilderment is not a word you would have associated with him, and yet you catch the brief widening of his eyes that betray his usually calm demeanor.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Linh comments.

“I can see,” Doctor Cullen muses. “Do you mind?”

“She’s all yours.” Linh picks her daughter up from the bed and hands her to the doctor. The sound of Hanna’s elated laughter fills the room, and you can’t stop a small smile from appearing on your own face. A cute baby and a gorgeous doctor? You don’t know who to thank for the sight.

Meanwhile, Hanna starts playing with various pens in Doctor Cullen’s breast pocket while Doctor Adamou continues where her colleague left off. You try to pay attention, you really do. Like Hanna though, your attention lies on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Doctor Cullen.

The more you study him, the more the minute features you never noticed about him before seem to pop out to you. Under the bright fluorescent lighting of the hospital, the dark purple circles under his eyes are more apparent than ever. How ironic for the preacher of health to lack sleep himself. His eyes, which you normally consider to be a vivid golden, are darker than you initially thought them to be. They are liquid pools of dark amber, speckled with dustings of gold and flecks of black. There isn’t a single blemish on his face that you can see either, further confirming your belief that this man is truly the most attractive person you have ever met. Either that or he must have one hell of a skincare routine.

It’s unnerving how young his appearance is. Skincare and diet can only do so much for a person, right? Doctor Cullen has to be at least 35 at the minimum, yet he could easily pass off as someone from your own school.

“Any last minute questions?” you hear Doctor Adamou ask and snap back into reality. By missing nearly everything the older doctor talked about, you already know you’ll be so screwed if and when Doctor Cullen decides to interrogate you on this case.

Neither parent has anything left to say, so Doctor Cullen gives a reluctant Hanna back to her mother. She lets out a cry and his expression softens.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, but I need to get ready for your big surgery, okay? I promise you’ll see me again in a few hours.” His soothing voice does wonders for her. In an instant, Hanna quiets down and her frown is replaced with giggles and smiles again. She waves the two of you off, and you both take your leave with Doctor Adamou trailing behind you. You’re not even halfway out the door yet when Doctor Cullen starts testing your knowledge again.

“Y/N, what procedure will we be doing to repair Hanna’s cleft?” 

You do not have this one in the bag whatsoever. You wrack your brain for information that could help you, but Doctor Adamou interjects before you get a chance to say anything.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re treating students like interns already, Carlisle?”

“I am merely advancing the education of next generation’s doctors,” he responds.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Don’t scare off Y/N though, or we won’t have any doctors left in the next generation.” She turns to you after picking up files from a nearby counter and says, “You come running to me if he pushes you too hard, alright?”

You grin. “For sure.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both in the OR,” she says before heading off.

You like Doctor Adamou. Each surgeon you’ve met here so far has had such different personalities, yet each also has the charisma and confidence to take control of a room and command respect. You, on the other hand, could barely get your own friends to listen to your own words. How are you ever going to get on the level of all the amazing doctors around you?

“She saved you there,” Doctor Cullen comments, leafing through Hanna’s charts as he walks you into an empty elevator to the operating floor. Oops, it’s just your luck that he noticed your lack of attention during the pre-op. “It’s unlike you to be distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

The elevator doors shut, and he looks up from the chart, his eyes falling onto yours. He has that twinkle in his eyes again – the one that brings warmth to your cheeks and could make anyone weak in their knees. You know it’s silly, but a single look from him could make you spill any of your deepest and darkest secrets, yet a part of you also knows that he would keep it. You’re not naïve – you know it’s dangerous to put so much faith into a man you only met this week – but there’s something about him that told your instincts to trust him from the very beginning.

Call it intuition, or maybe it’s just plain stupidity, but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him about how you got distracted because of his pretty face.

You hesitate for a moment and let out a sigh. “How do you do it?” He quirks a brow, momentarily perplexed, and you attempt to find the right words. “How do you make all of this look so easy? How do you know what the right thing to say is? Or trust that what you’re doing is even right? How did you know if this was all meant for you? This is really dumb, but it seems like everyone here was born for this job, and then there’s... me.”

There’s a slight sense of dread starting to form in your stomach. You’re unsure if what you asked even made any sort of sense and wonder if you gave too much away. Giving any reason to second guess your abilities is like digging your own grave when it comes to this career. Expressing uncertainty is one of the biggest taboos of the cutthroat world that is pre-med because schools would not accept students that aren’t absolutely, totally, and completely sure about this path.

You’ve wanted this for so long, yet there’s still a part of you that doubts if you would be enough.

Rather than going straight to gowning and scrubbing in for the surgery, Doctor Cullen grabs your hand and leads you down to an abandoned hallway, only letting go once the two of you are hidden in an alcove away from any prying ears or eyes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for surgery?”

“We have a few minutes to spare. Y/N, please know that I understand how you feel,” he says softly. “There was a time when I questioned my own abilities as well… whether my perseverance could overcome adversity. It took quite some time to reach where I am today.  However, without enduring those trials and tribulations, I would not be here. With time comes experience, and it is that experience that allows me to perform my job the best I can.”

His voice reminds you of a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of a tree on a cool summer night when he continues speaking in hushed tones. It brings a blanket of reassurance, a sense that things would eventually be alright.

“I have said this before, but I see enormous potential in you. You still have a great deal of time to grow and develop your skills. It’s easy to get caught up in comparing yourself with others, especially given today’s societal standards, but I believe you are much more capable than you may think you are. Everyone’s journey is different and yours may not necessarily be as linear as you would prefer. In due time though, I have faith that you will succeed.”

What he says is exactly what you needed to hear.

The swell of tears pricks at your eyes and start blurring your vision, but you blink them away quickly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around the doctor. 

“Thank you, Doctor Cullen.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe there’s a little girl waiting on us.” 

XXX

Tag List - Message me to be added or removed to either this series or the rest of my fics!

@jelly-fishy-babie @notahappytree @anxiousgoldengirl

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Beaten Part 2:

Part 1 here

Here is the continuation for "Beaten". @val-reblogs-stuff

Note. I do not know much about trauma (actually, that may be an understatemen). All the trauma that Villain is going through came from my basic idea of it and the fact that it can effect everyone differently. So, I apologize for any inaccuracies.

Warnings: hospital setting, IVs, self-blame/hate, drugged whumpee, trauma, crying, believing one is better off dead, flashback mentions, catatonic whumpee, ECT therapy mention, paralyzed whumpee

~

Hero visited Villain everyday and everyday, he was the same until she found him conscious and staring at the ceiling with no emotion in his golden-brown eyes.

"Villain?" Her tired voice came out like a mouse's squeak. She rushed over to his side only to find his eyes completely glazed over.

Her fingers brushed his dark eyebrows, silently playing with the coarse hair. He was awake- that thought gladdened her- but he also seemed to not be. Almost like his mind was in a different universe, yet his body was still on earth.

But he was awake, and that was one step in the righr direction towards recovery.

Mental recovery.

But never a physical recovery. That shot was long since gone when that sledgehammer...

Hero's purposely allowed those thoughts to drift away. What was done was done, and Hero had to remember that.

The doctor entered the room, his full faced white beard messy and slightly stained. Hero felt bad. He was so busy and she just added to the workload.

"Have the heroes found the person who did this?" Doctor asked as he prepared an IV to deliver the vital nutrients to Villain bloodstream.

"No," Hero replied fluently. After days of people asking how "her villain" was and who injured him so severely that the doctors had to put him in a coma, she was quite accustomed to lying.

"Hmm. I hope you guys take him down because," Doctor waved their hand over Villain's face. "he is not doing well whatsoever."

"I can see that," Hero agreed.

"His mind must've went on lock down when he came out of sedation. Either that, or the drug effected him."

"Which one is better?"

"Depends."

"Oh," was all Hero was able to say as it clicked in. His mind went into this state as a result of the trauma she caused.

"Is he even awake?" Hero wondered outloud.

The doctor looked over at the moniters, his eyes flickering back and forth as he calculated and read the lines and numbers that Hero could not even begin to understand.

"Yeah, he is," Doctor answered. "It'll just take some time. Talk to him, it may draw him out of it."

"Okay."

The doctor left and Hero drew up a chair and seated herself in it.

"Hey bud."

No response.

"I'm sorry," Hero's voice hitched as a lump formed in her throat. Before she knew it, tears began to streamed down her cheeks like a watefall.

But, once again, there was no response. Only blank eyes that gazed at the ceiling with absolutely no emotion.

"It's my fault," Hero sobbed. "It is my fault that you won't walk again. It is my fault that-that." Hero broke into sobs and he grappled at Villain's limp hand. "Wake up please, please."

Hero cried and cried and cried until she exhausted herself. She started breathing in hiccuping breaths as her cheeks laid against Villain's rising and falling robotic-like breaths of air.

Her left arm went over Villain's chest and she hugged him, even though she likely was messing up moniters, right? Who cares if she budged a heart pad. His heart would be beating the same with or without the constant reminder that he was alive physically, but dead mentally.

Hero soon found herself dozing off as the minutes ticked by. Every once in a while, she would jerk awake if she felt him shift. But, she must've imagined it because he still held that vacant expression. However, now his eyes were half-lidded and looked as if he was sleeping.

So did that mean that he was awake earlier?

Or was his body getting tired of keeping his eyes open?

Hero, in a wave of pessimism, grudgingly thought it as the second possibility.

She drifted off to sleep again, not even bothering to check the time. She slept on till morning when a warm hand roused her from her slumber.

"Villain!" She called rather excitedly, but saw that it was only a nurse.

"I don't know why the doctor allowed you to stay the night, given you aren't family, but you need to leave now. We are going to run some tests to see where Villain is mentally and physically."

"We already know his physical health," Hero muttered. "And we have a pretty good grasp on what is going on in his brain."

The nurse gave a sympathetic smile, her tanned face a mixture of worry and nervousness- if you could count those as two seperate expressions.

"We can find out more and possibly help him," the nurse pointed out and led Hero out of the room. "Go. Get some food and water and get some real sleep."

Hero nodded solemnly and proceeded to find some food in a vending machine. Upon only finded some poorly stocked snicker bars, she made her way to the cafeteria and gave herself a plate full of lukewarm mashed potatoes and some soggy beef stew.

She ate the food by herself on a table and watched as recovering families gathered together on various tables. They seemed so happy amidst the obvious struggles each family was facing.

Shouldn't Hero be happy? Shouldn't she be glad that Villain was alive?

Or, maybe her mind subconsciously believed that he was better off dead. After all, he wouldn't be able to walk again, would definitely have chronic pain, and he could possibly always be living in a world of paranoia, stress, and flashbacks.

How could he be happy when he was constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure Hero wasn't there to finish the job?

Hero quickly stuffed the rest of the bland food into her mouth, set her tray on a counter to be washed, and headed back to Villain's room.

Villain was still there, lying on his back, oblivious to the world around him. The doctor was there too, seemingly checking Villain's vitals.

"How did the tests go?"

"Well, we now know for certain that he is awake, but we believe he is catatonic."

Catatonic.

"How are you gonna fix him?" Hero asked and walked to Villain's other side.

"We are going to begin ECT," the doctor confirmed. "Later today. We need to make sure all previous drugs are out of his system first."

Hero nodded and ran her hand through Villain's fluffy hair tenderly and used her other hand to massage his shoulder. He did not respond, but his eyes flickered for a moment before resuming their role in monitoring the ceiling.

"Did you see that?" Hero exclaimed.

"See what?"

"He moved his eyes," Hero blabbered enthusiastically and massaged his shoulder even harder, but when no more movement occurred she stopped.

"Many patients suffering from catatonia move their eyes."

"So he knew I was touching him?"

"He is fully aware. He entered this stupor due to the physical stress, exhaustion, possible traumatic stress, and maybe even some of the medications used on him."

Hero nodded. She didn't fully understand, but she knew that he felt her.

So all they had to do was bring him back.

And then he could get better.

Or as well as a paralyzed person could.

~not edited

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 6: Couldn’t Call Our Ride

Summary: On the trip back to base-camp, Steve finds himself bonding more with Katie, and also grows close to a number of the prisoners they liberated.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark Word Count: 7.8k

A/N:  Again, used a fair bit of creative license with this but, what is Fan-Fic if not exactly that? This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge. 

And my girl is back! @angrybirdcr hitting the spot with some wonderful edits to accompany this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 5

hey reached the rest of the men a few hours later and Steve was please to find that Dernier and the British officer, Falsworth, had already started to organise things. The wounded were being treated as best as they could by the trained field medics who were amongst the soldiers that had been liberated, a little food was being handed out, and there were men patrolling the perimeter of the area of the old, abandoned camp.

However, the elation Steve felt at having found Bucky and the rest of the men soon died down when, after Katie told him to send the signal to Peggy and Howard, he found out the transponder was going to be of absolutely no use whatsoever.

Not because it didn't work, oh no. But because it had clearly been hit in the crossfire, a corner blasted off somehow. 

Which meant they were alone, with no ex-fill forthcoming.

Katie had, once again, been the voice of logic, this time supported by a few of the other soldiers and reasoned with Steve that they would be best taking a few hours to rest and treat the walking wounded before they regrouped in the morning and came up with a plan. The Captain had obliged, despite his itch to get going as soon as possible. He knew, logically, that she was right. 

After wandering the camp and making sure everyone was okay, Steve’s attention then turned to ensuring that there were enough people ready to relieve the guys on guard patrol for the evening. He wanted them swapped out regularly enough to allow them all to rest. Once he was satisfied they were organised, he walked a little further round the perimeter, his sharp eyes checking into the distance every so often.

His stomach gave a little growl and his hand dropped to the top of his jacket, absentmindedly rubbing at his belly.  He’d so far declined the offer of food, despite assurances from the men handling the supplies that they had ample for everyone. He knew that might not be the case if they were still stuck in a few days, and there were people in far more need of a meal than he was. Still, he knew he was going to have to eat something at some point.

With a groan he slumped down onto a large upturned tree trunk, letting out a frustrated breath. How could he could be so dammed stupid as to damage their ticket out of here? There was no way to call help, and now they were faced with a hundred and twenty click hike back to base through potentially occupied territory. 

As he sat there, mulling over his own stupidity and failings, he heard a footstep behind him and he turned sharply to see Katie approaching him, carrying a foil packet in her hand. Her boots crunched over the frosty layer of leaves and detritus that covered the woodland floor as she approached him.

“Hey,” she smiled, her breath fogging the cold air in front of her. “I know you haven’t eaten, and I also know you won’t unless someone makes you so, here.”

Steve gave her a little smile in return and took the packet she was offering, looking at the label before he took a rye cracker out of the packet and shoved it into his mouth. It wasn’t particularly tasty, and was rather dry, but it was food none the less. She then handed him a canteen of water which he took with another thanks and flipped off the top, taking a huge gulp.

“Everyone who’s ill or in desperate need of a meal has had some hot broth.” She continued to explain. “Bucky managed a good mug or two of it, that is before he started coughing his guts up anyway.”

“Bucky’s sick?” Steve frowned. “I thought he said he was doing okay?”

“Well that’s men for you.” Katie gave him a little smile as she perched on the log besides him. “Insisting you’re always okay when you’re not.”

“Is he in a bad way?”

“No, all things considering he’s actually in pretty good shape.”

 “All things considered?” Steve turned to her, his puzzlement reflected on his handsome face, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Has he not told you?” Katie frowned.

“No.” Steve shook his head.

“Well, in all fairness he didn’t tell me either, it was Dum Dum.” 

“Oh.” Steve let out a breath satisfied that his friend hadn’t been holding out on him. “How do you know him, Duggan I mean?”

Katie took a deep breath. “He was part of my specialist team at first, but when we got news that the Nazis and HYDRA were marching on Azzano, well, it was all hands on deck so to speak and he was dispatched with the rest of his original unit to fight.” She paused bit her lip, folding her arms across her chest, almost as if she was hugging herself to keep warm. “From what Dum Dum tells me, that’s where he first met Bucky. Apparently, Bucky contracted walking pneumonia on the battlefield, which got progressively worse in captivity.”

“And let me guess, HYDRA were nothing short of sympathetic?” Steve snorted sarcastically and Katie gave a little chuckle as she leaned against him, shivering.

“I’m sure you can guess why they were kept in those cages instead of being shot.”

“They were being used as labour in the factory.” Steve stated and he felt Katie nod as he lifted his arm so she could snuggle in against him a little.

“Thanks.” She smiled and Steve’s hand curled over her shoulder, gently rubbing her arm. “You’re ridiculously warm.”

“Must be the serum.”

“Must be.” She mused before she lay her head against him. “That the only reason you’re making the moves on me, Rogers? To keep me warm? Because I should tell you, I’m not that kinda gal!”

Steve gave an exasperated sigh as she chuckled. “You forget, I know exactly what type of dame you are.”

At that she let out a full on laugh which warmed his chest even more and he felt her shake her head. “Yeah, I guess you do. Just don’t tell Howie, he likes to think I’m perfectly sweet and innocent.”

“Bull shit.” Steve shot back before he could stop himself and she simply shrugged before they fell silent for a moment, Steve’s hand still gently rubbing at her upper arm. As the silence continued, he worried he’d overstepped the mark a little and he glanced out again across the cold, dark forest, wondering what to say, and then Katie shifted next to him, snuggling in even further and began to speak again.

“Bucky became so weak that one day that he collapsed in front of the Colonel that was in charge.” Her voice was soft, and Steve turned to look down at her, swallowing at the thought of what his best friend had been through, a thought which became progressively worse as she continued. “He took a nasty beating as a result and was dumped back in the cage which contained Dernier, Dum Dum, and Falsworth. The three of them fast realised that if Bucky was made to do any more work he’d die so they came up with a plan which basically got rid of the Colonel for good.”

“What, you mean…”

“They killed him.” She stated, matter of factly. “Crushed him under a tonne of machinery. This left some other goon in charge, and he was slightly, well, a little more compassionate, so Dum-Dum says. When this new guy spotted Bucky was ill he was taken to the isolation ward.”

Steve shifted a little and Katie sat up as he ran his hands over his tired face, dragging his fingers down his cheeks before his elbows came to rest on his knees. He pondered her words for a moment, chewing his lip before he spoke again, his voice soft. 

“How long?” 

“How long what?” 

“How long had he been on the isolation ward?”

“A few days, apparently.”

Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe they didn’t want to infect the rest of the workers.” She offered and Steve shook his head.

“But why take him there and not just-“ he stopped short of what he was going to say but Katie gently reached out, her hand laying on his back.

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Did they do anything else to him?”

“Again, no idea. You’ll have to ask him. He aint gonna give you anything tonight, though. One of the guys shot him with some penicillin that was in the medical supplies we stole and then gave him something to help him sleep. He’s out for the count in one of the tents. He’ll be fine after a rest, Steve.”

Steve looked around, his eyes falling on the soldier currently walking the perimeter as he passed a few hundred yards away from them, before he took a deep breath.

“I should go, see how-“ he made to stand but Katie gently laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Everything and everyone is fine, Steve.” 

“I’m their Captain.”

“Yes, and you’ve done enough. You should get some rest, we both should.”

“How can I just sit here?” Steve shook his head. His mind was whirring, his body positively thrumming with adrenaline and unease, making the mere thought of sleep seem impossible. 

“You need to. We have a long trip back to base ahead of us.”

“Which is on me.” Steve raised his eyebrows, not meeting her eyes as he focussed on a tree trunk a few feet ahead of them.

“How do you work that one out?” Katie frowned.

“I should have kept that transponder safe.”

“Oh for God’s sake!” She spluttered, her tone laced with exasperation as she shook her head as he turned to look at her.

“What?”

“Stop with this self-pity.”

“I’m not-“

“Yes, you are!” She rolled her eyes. “The transponder got broken, it wasn’t your fault. And short of inventing a time machine, there’s exactly zilch anyone can do about it. So sitting here, wallowing in your own completely misplaced sense of guilt is utterly pointless. You need to pull it together, because you’re right about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Steve’s nostrils flared angrily at her tone as she groaned.

“You are their Captain.” She stared at him, her green eyes full of fire. “And if they see you looking despondent and moping around what the hell do you think that’s gonna do to their morale, huh?”

“You know what?” Steve fixed her with an icy glare, his temper flaring. “I’ve had it with you telling me what to do, Agent Stark. I think you’ve forgotten who’s leading this mission!”

“Without me you wouldn’t have lasted five minute in that base, Captain Rogers!” She scoffed. “You hadn’t the first idea about basic stealth or operations.”

“I’d have managed just fine.”

 “You know,” Katie gave a snort, shaking her head as she stood up, “Erskine was right about you, you really are a stubborn asshole”

“And you’re a brat.” He shot back, a little childishly as he too rose to his feet and with that she laughed.

“A brat?” She raised her eyebrows, wrinkling her nose up as she continued, sarcasm dripping off her words. “Original. Never heard that one before.”

She turned to leave and Steve felt his temper rising even more. He was sick and tired with people underestimating him. 

"All you care about is how everyone sees you, because you got somethin’ to prove.” He shot to her back. As soon as the words flew out of his mouth he knew he shouldn’t have said them, his mind whirring back to the conversation he’d had with her the night before his transformation and, as she turned to face him, he felt a sudden pang of guilt at the anger and hurt that was etched across her face as she stalked towards him, stopping less than a foot away, her finger jabbing him in his chest.

“Listen here you stupid son of a-”

Before her tirade could continue, Steve grabbed her by forearms and pulled her straight into him, his lips forcefully crashing against hers. She reciprocated for a moment or two before she made a noise of protest and put her hands on his chest, shoving him slightly.

“You are an arrogant-“

“Shut up.” He mumbled, his lips crashing to hers again and this time she made no further protests, instead she melted into his arms, her lips soft against his as her arms slid round his neck, his own large hands splaying on the back of her combat jacket as he held her close. The kiss was furious, bruising, a far cry from any of the ones they’d shared so far and when they eventually broke apart, he pressed his forehead to hers as Katie stood, her eyes closed for a moment, her chest heaving. Eventually his eyes opened to find hers already studying his face and she took a deep breath.

"Where the hell did you get the sack for that, Rogers?" She asked, her voice little more than a whisper as she continued trying to catch her breath.

“The serum?” He shrugged a little as her hands fell to his shoulders, the heat rising from his neck to his cheeks as he realised exactly what he’d just done. He bit his lip and, as she gave a snort, he cocked his head, feeling a little bolstered by his act of bravery and he grinned and quipped. “Had to shut you up somehow.”

Before she could respond, no doubt with an equally sassy remark of her own, Steve heard a twig crack somewhere to his right and he whipped round, automatically pulling Katie behind him only to find Dum Dum and Dernier stood a few feet away. Both of them wore similar expressions of amusement as Dum Dum’s head turned slowly to the left.  Dernier met his gaze and mumbled something in French before he laughed.

“Yeah, I got no idea what ya’ just said, Pal.” Dum Dum sniffed before he looked at Katie, his arms folding as he let out a smirk. “Well, well Lady Lieutenant and The Captain.”

Steve swallowed, the heat in his cheeks burning like a furnace and he felt Katie let go of his hand before she stepped out from behind him, smoothing down her jacket, her hands settling on her hips.

 “You’re only jealous Duggan because the closest you’ve been to a woman in the last God knows how long was when that nurse was pulling a bullet outta your ass after the raid on the base in Norway.”

Duggan’s mouth twitched below his moustache before he let out a below of laughter, his eyes twinkling. “You gotta smart mouth, Stark. Gonna get you into trouble one day!”

“It already has, several times. Got me out of it too.” She grinned. “Now, did you want something, Corporal?” 

Duggan shook his head, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “No, Ma’am. We were just doing the rounds so to speak.”

“Well, don’t let us stop you.” Katie gestured with her arm, making a sweeping motion, signalling for them to keep on walking. 

Exchanging another smirk, the two men straightened up and saluted her before they continued on their way. As they passed, Dernier gave a little nod to the Captain, chuckling as he remarked. “Vous auriez pu au moins lui acheter un verre d’abord, Capitaine.”

“Oh, nous avons bien depasse cette etape.” Katie shot back and Derneir stopped dead, blinking as she smirked before he let out a loud laugh and hurried after Dum Dum.

“Okay, what did he just say?” Steve asked, drawing up behind her as they both watched the men leave.

“He said that you could have at least bought me a drink first.” She turned, smirking as Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I told him we were way past that stage.”

“Jesus, Doll!” Steve groaned, his face scrunched up in embarrassment and mock frustration, all the while Katie laughed.

“What?”

“That’s gonna be all round the Camp by morning.”

“You ashamed of me?” She teased.

“No, of course not.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” She gently patted his chest. “All things considered, I think that’s the least of our concerns don’t you?”

With that she stood on her tip toes and placed a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before she stepped back. “Now, I’m gonna go back to the rest of the guys and make sure they��re all okay, and as their Captain, I suggest you do the same. Keep that morale up, like I told you to.”

She gave him a smile before she turned and headed back towards the main part of the camp.

Steve stood stock still, his mind whirring and digesting what the fuck had just happened, before he shook his head, and jogged after her, once more acquiescing to her instructions. 

***** Whilst there may not have been much deep sleeping going on, there was certainly plenty of rest and refuelling undertaken so to speak, and at first light the next morning Steve gathered Katie, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones, Morita and Falsworth in the back of one of the trucks to discuss their plan going forward, leaving Bucky to sleep as long as he could. He’d fast taken a liking to the five men having heard from various other men about how they’d organised the troops at the base, and his first-hand experience of how they’d been during the night around their makeshift camp. Plus Katie trusted Dum-Dum and Steve trusted her, so it was good enough for him.

Katie and Falsworth had found maps of the terrain buried in the stuff they’d taken from the factory and worked out their distance to the allied camp was approximately ninety-five miles as the crow flies. They had further estimated that,  given the state of the men and the fact that were going to have to skirt around various battles that were still raging on, they would probably average between twenty to twenty-five miles a day, meaning it would take them at least four to get back. 

They had trucks, a tank, enough supplies to keep them going for a few days, and Dum-Dum stated the obvious, that Steve could go on a head, alone, and be much faster if needs be. But that wasn’t something he wanted to do, plus as Katie rightly pointed out, he would be number one on HYDRAs radar right now. The last thing they needed was to lose him because, as blunt a point as it was, that was just the type of thing Schmidt would need to keep the heat off the fact they had just lost one of their factories.

Then there was the fact that Steve simply didn’t want to leave them behind. They were his men now, he wanted to stay with them, make sure they made it back together. Leaving them would be an absolute last resort. 

They split into groups, heading round the camp to spread the word about the plan and instruct the men to be ready to leave as soon as Steve gave the signal, and the Captain took the opportunity to head into the tent were Bucky was resting. He was pleased to see his friend looked a hell of a lot better than he had the previous night, sat on the edge of the make shift cot which had been fashioned out of a number of broad topped crates and blankets, rolling down his sleeve as one of their medics had just administered another shot of penicillin.

“How you feeling, Buck?” Steve asked, stepping into the tent and to the side to allow the other solider to leave, giving him a salute as he passed.

“Like I’ve been run over by a Panzer.” Bucky grumbled and Steve gave a small smile. Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, just got a-“

“I know.” Steve cut him off. “I got the low-down.”

“Stark?”

“Yeah.” 

“I bet that’s not all you got.” Bucky smirked and Steve rolled his eyes letting out a groan. “Don’t go gettin’ all coy on me, Stevie.”

“I’m not being coy.” Steve protested and Bucky let out a bark of a laugh.

“Course not.”  Bucky pulled on his boots and bent to lace them. “You gonna tell me yourself or do I need to go huntin’ for gossip?”

“There’s nothing to tell, lay off, Buck.”

Bucky snorted. “I don’t even have to look at you to know you’re lying, you’re that bad at it.”

“It’s, well, it’s a little complicated.” Steve attempted to placate him but Bucky finished lacings his boots and looked up at him, hands resting on his knees.

“You like her?”

“Of course I do…”

“She like you?”

Steve blushed and his hand rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, I mean…”

“Well then, what’s complicated about it?” Bucky shrugged.

“In case you hadn’t realised we’re not exactly here under normal circumstances.” Steve arched an eyebrow. 

“All the more reason not to waste any time, Punk.” Bucky stood up, cracking his neck side to side. “Who knows how long we’ve got.”

Steve’s brow raised a little as he looked at Bucky, letting out a sigh. “You sound like her.”

“Well she clearly talks sense, you should listen.” Bucky smirked, taking a step towards him. “So, Captain, what’s the plan?”

“You asking me about Katie now or…” Steve quipped and Bucky grinned, slapping his shoulder.

“Steve, you clearly aint got a plan when it comes to that Dame, so there’s not point askin’ ya ‘bout it is there?” He drawled and Steve sighed, giving him a look. “No, I mean to get us out of this Godforsaken shit hole and back on friendly territory. You do have a plan, right? I mean I hear you always got a plan nowadays.”

Steve groaned as Bucky’s mouth curled up into a huge grain and he shook his head.

“Still a pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled and Bucky shrugged before he took a deep breath.

“But seriously, what are we going to do?”

“We’re getting ready to move out.” Steve’s hands dropped to the buckle on his belt. “We got approximately a hundred and twenty or so kilometres to cover. Gonna be hard but…” Steve popped a shoulder before he studied Bucky as he let out a huge, chest-wracking cough. “You can ride in one of the trucks.”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“You’re clearly not.” Steve raised an eyebrow. 

“There are men far worse off than me, this is just an infection, I’ll be fine. Dare say fresh air and walking will do me good.”

At that Steve let out a snort. “Yeah, just like it used to do me good, huh?”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

“Damned it, Steve, stop being an asshole.” Bucky shot back, glaring at him. “I’m telling you I’m fine. Coped with more in that base than you could even begin to imagine, a coupla day’s hike will be easy in comparison.” 

As soon as the words were out of his friends mouth, Steve noticed him look away, clearly cursing himself for his outburst.

“What did they do to you?” Steve asked gently. Bucky swallowed and turned to Steve, shaking his head.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I was out of it for the most but they, well I can remember them sticking me with needles and then there were all these bright lights and…” He trailed off. “It hurt.”

Steve took a deep breath and stepped forward, his hand curling round his friend’s shoulder but Bucky shrugged him off. “Don’t.” He looked at him, his eyes fierce. “Just don’t.”

Steve moved back, holding his hands up in front of him, palms out in a conciliatory manner. “Okay.”

There was a moment’s silence, and then they were aware of voices and Steve turned to see Katie step into the tent.

“Everyone’s moving, St-I mean Captain.” She smiled and Steve felt his cheeks flushing as he was well aware that Bucky was watching him carefully. 

“Yes, Ma’am. Be with you in a moment.”

She nodded then her gaze flicked to Bucky who shot her a dazzling smile. “S’up Doll Face?”

“You’re looking better than you were yesterday, Barnes.” Katie smirked a little at his familiar nature and he shrugged, flashing her a wink.

“Takes a lot to keep me down, Darlin’”

“I don’t doubt it.” She grinned, before her eyes locked with Steve’s again and she turned, and left.

“Damned, Steve.” Bucky whistled through his teeth. “The first girl who actually lays her peepers on you, and she’s an absolute dish.”

“Piss off, Bucky.” Steve shot back and Bucky once more laughed, shaking his head before he gave a loud, exaggerated sniff and wiped dramatically at his eyes. 

"My boys all grown up,” he spoke in a theatrical emotional voice, before he swept from the tent leaving Steve glowering at his back. 

*****

After a near miss with a hostile unit on the first day of their journey, Steve took the informed decision to only move under the hours of low light and darkness. He was keen to keep any confrontations to a minimum given the exhausted and weak state of many of the men he was leading. After discussions with the group of seven who were fast becoming the ones he was turning to most for advice and support, they all conceded that whilst moving at night made it almost impossible they would be spotted by any air-borne allied surveillance, it was the best chance they had at keeping casualties to a minimum.

They kept to the less worn roads as much as they could, sometimes having to split up if the vehicles couldn’t make it a certain way, but thanks to the variety of skills the group had, along with Katie’s unbelievable sense of organisation, it seemed to work. By the third day they were almost three quarters of the way there by their estimations anyway.

“St-I mean, Cap?” Katie’s voice hit his ears and Steve turned to face her where she was walking a little behind with Dum-Dum, rifle in her arms. “I think we’ve got about an hour or so before daylight, we should probably be looking for somewhere to make camp.”

Steve looked up at the sky, his eyes straying to the horizon which he could just see through the valley they were set to make their way between and she, as always, was right. The first slivers of daylight were peeking through the dark, tendrils of orange and pink snaking through the sky.

He turned back to her. “Do we stop before or after the Valley?”

“If you want my advice,” Dum-Dum cut in, “I’d say before. If we get caught down there, Cap, we’re sitting ducks. Best chance is after nightfall.”

Katie nodded to show she agreed, and Steve took a deep breath. He was keen to press on as much as he could, and had been hoping to make it through the last line of hills before they stopped. But, he knew they were right and they’d covered a lot of ground over the last march. As luck would have it, the nights were longer than the days due to the season so, despite the fact it was cold and the weather wasn’t particularly kind to them, it worked to their advantage.

“Okay, let everyone know. Jones, Dernier, can you guys get up high,” he nodded to the hill face a little to his right, “see if you can spot anywhere that might be safe to set up camp.”

“Sure thing.” Jones nodded, and Dernier gave a little salute as the two men took off silently.

Steve declined the canteen of water Katie offered him and she gave him a stern look, her arm remaining outstretched. With a roll of his eyes and quirk of his eyebrow he took it, his fingers brushing hers and he frowned.

“You’re freezing.”

“Soon warm up once we’re round a fire.” She shrugged. “Now drink, enhanced or not, you need to keep hydrated.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He quipped, causing her to roll her eyes, but he didn’t miss the smirk on her lips as she turned to Dum-Dum when he asked her if she wanted him to run down the line and set the communication chain off.

“How you feeling?” Steve moved over to where Bucky had settled, perched on a flat rock jutting out from the side of the mountain face, his legs dangling over the edge.

“Peachy keen, Stevie.” Bucky looked at him and Steve snorted as Bucky leaned back. “Nah, I’m good, Pal. Feel a lot better. Turns out your Ma did know what she was talking about, fresh air can clear your lungs.”

“Yeah, shame there wasn’t much to be found in a cramped, inner Brooklyn city.” Steve smirked and Buck chuckled.

“True.” He bit the inside of his lip as he looked down at his hands. “Do my folks think I’m dead?”

The question caught Steve off guard a little and he frowned, sitting down next to his friend. “You were MIA assumed lost so I suspect they’ve been informed of that. But don’t worry about it, once we’re back you can get a telegram to them, assure them you’re okay.”

“Okay.” Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “Whatever that means.”

“I thought you just said you felt good?” Steve looked at him and Bucky shrugged.

“I do.”

Before Steve could dig further into whatever the hell Bucky meant, a crunch of feet on gravel to his left made him spring to his feet, but it was only Jones and Dernier back from the scouting mission.

“There’s a break in the rock formation, bout half a mile or so further. Reckon it’s a good place to form base. Plenty of spots in and around to hide. Bad news is the vehicles are going to have to go around once we set off again. It’ll take them off course a little but we’ll meet them again about two or three miles through the valley.”

“Thanks, Jones.” Steve nodded. “Get the news down the chain.”

It wasn’t long before they’d found the spot Jones and Dernier had been referring to, and everyone moved around quickly, like a well-oiled machine, establishing the base camp. Thanks to the natural shelter of the terrain, not as many tents this time were required, but Steve insisted, as always, that Katie got her own.

Soon some form of soup was cooking, water was being handed out along with what was left of some sweet liquor that they’d also liberated from camp and soft chatter rang out across the troops. The walking wounded were being treated once more for the night and Steve took the chance to walk around, talking to as many people as he could.

Once he was sure everyone had been fed, he took a helping for himself and settled down round one of the small fires where Bucky was sat with Katie and the other five men that had all formed a close bond. He ate, not really paying attention, until Dum-Dum loudly lamented that his facial hair was getting out of control and Katie snorted.

“You’re not going to find many barbers round here.” She shook her head. “Besides, it all adds to the well-worn rugged look.” She glanced at Steve before she smirked. “Even Cap’s sporting a good layer of stubble.”

At that Bucky laughed. “Makes a change, huh pal. You know he once didn’t shave for a week, looked just as smooth at the end of it as he had at the start.”

Steve groaned, as chuckles rang out at his expense, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his chin. “Yeah, well, things are different now-“

“No shit”

“- and it seems to grow pretty fast.”

“Were there no razors at all in the stuff we took?” Falsworth asked and Katie pondered.

“There’s some toiletries but no many, that said I can’t say I’ve looked. Why are you bothered?”

“I like to keep up appearances.” Monty looked at her. “Plus, regulations state we should either be clean shaven or sporting a full, groomed moustache…”

“Yeah, come on Lady Lieutenant, surely you know that?” Dum-Dum looked at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Katie shrugged. “Well, yeah, but who’s gonna tell?”

“Well, I like to take pride in my appearance.” Dum Dum shrugged. “Something you’ll understand”

“What, because I’m female?” 

“Are you? Hadn’t noticed.” Dum Dum’s eyes twinkled in the light of the fire as a Katie rolled her eyes.

“Steve has.” Bucky quipped causing them all to laugh as Steve gave an exasperated sigh, feeling the familiar heat of embarrassment spread up his neck and his cheeks.

“Well, if you’re all vain enough to be that bothered, go raid the supplies.” Katie leaned back, resting on her elbows, legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. “Good luck trying to shave in the dark though, without a mirror.”

As the night went on, one by one the men peeled off to take their rest or sentry duties, leaving Steve, Katie and Bucky alone round the fire. They chatted for another hour or so before Katie told them she was going to hit the hay.

She stood up, stretching before she reached out for one of the tins in the fire, wrapping her hand in her sleeve so as not to burn herself as she took the heated water. “Oh, and don’t tell the others, but if you guys want help, so to speak, with the old,” she pointed at her face, drawing a circle in the air, “I’ll do it for you. Just give me five minutes to wash up first.”

Steve watched her go before he turned to Bucky who was eyeing him shrewdly.

“You taking her up on that?” He asked and Steve frowned.

“She was joking.”

“I don’t think she was.” Bucky smirked. “In fact I’m pretty sure that was a ploy to get you to follow her.”

Steve sighed, “if that was true, why did she invite you?”

“Jesus, Stevie, you’re so clueless. She did that so it isn’t obvious.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “If both of us go into her tent, it looks a lot let suss than if you or I go in alone. Well, that is, unless everyone thinks we’re having some form of threesome that is.”

Steve grimaced before he took a deep breath, turning to Bucky. “No offence, but you’re not my type.”

“Ouch.” Bucky smirked as Steve stood up. “Oh, are we going now? Damned, you’re keen.”

Steve shot him another look before he turned and strode after Katie, Bucky hot on his tails. 

Katie simply laughed as they entered her tent and told them both to sit on the make shift bunk she had before she disappeared and came back with a cut throat and what little else she could salvage from the supplies.

“Who’s first?” She brandished the razor and her eyes fell to Bucky.

“Trust you with a cutthroat?” He looked at her and she placed her hands on her hips.

“I do this for Howard all the time.”

“No offence, Doll Face, but I'd rather jump on a grenade.”

“Steve already did that.” Katie quipped.

Bucky turned his head slowly to face him. “What happened to not doing anything stupid till I got back?”

“It was a dummy.” Steve shook his head.

“You didn’t know that.” Katie grinned and Bucky snorted.

“A dummy?” He grinned “That’s definitely stooped, with two os.”

“Hey, in my defense it was very realistic.” Steve pouted. Katie chuckled and looked at him, and Steve felt the heat in his neck rising as the memories of that night came flooding back. And from the look on her face she was recalling them too. She stood there, simply looking at him, biting her lip a little, before she gave a yelp.

“Ow!” She raised her finger to her mouth, sucking at where she’d just nicked it on the razor.

“Yeah, now I’ll definitely pass.” Bucky’s eyes widened and he stood up. “You kids behave.”

Katie watched him sweep from the tent before she turned to Steve. “Something I said?”

Steve laughed and rubbed at his neck as she grinned and held up the razor. “What about you, Soldier? Do you trust me with a potentially fatal weapon at your throat?”

“I trust you with my life.” Steve replied immediately and the cheeky grin on her face turned to a soft smile as she stepped forward, folding the razor and slipping it into her pocket.

“Little naive that, Stevie, considering we haven’t known each other that long.”

Steve shrugged. “I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Sure you are.” She smiled, before she moved and dipped her hand into the tin of warm water. “Head back, Captain.”

Steve obliged and she wet his face as best she could, the pads of her fingers brushing against his stubble before she then worked the bar of soap into a lather, massaging it against his chin and cheeks. Steve’s gaze was on her face the whole time as she concentrated, his hands flexing on the edge of the thin bunk which was made out of a couple of the supply crates. 

“This isn’t going to be as close as I’d like.” She mused.

“Are we talking about the shave now or…” Steve looked at her and her eyes met his and she shook her head.

“Yes, I mean the shave.” She chuckled. “I can see Barnes is rubbing off on you already.”

Steve smiled as she dipped her hands back in the tin and wiped them on her jacket, before pulling the razor back out. 

“Ready?”

“All yours.”

“Are we talking about the shave or-“ She teased, playing his words back to him and Steve held her gaze, her eyes flashing as he took a deep breath.

“What do you want me to be talking about?”

There was a moment’s pause and she dropped her head, swallowing before she looked back up at him. “How many other girls you said that to, Rogers?”

“One or two. In each location, I met a lot on the USO tour.” He teased as she gently titled his head back with her fingers.

“That so?” She mused, swiping the razor down his cheek in a clean, sweeping arc. “Maybe I should carve my name into you.”

Steve smiled.

“Stay still.” She instructed. “Although, I feel I should warn you, if you are mine, I don’t like people touching my stuff.”

“I’d kinda figured that one out.” Steve spoke softly as she swept the blade down his cheek again, washing it in the tin before she moved to the other side. As she stepped across him, his hands fell to the side of her thighs as she continued, her tongue poking through her lips in concentration, before she stepped behind him, his head falling back so she could move down his throat.

The tent was silent, Steve simply watching as she worked, momentarily lost. No woman had ever done this for him before, bar his mother, and that had been when he’d been too sick or sore to do it himself. But this, there was something so incredibly intimate, so innocent, so pure, so ridiculously sensual that he found himself torn between wanting to close his eyes, surrendering completely to her ministrations, and watching her as she worked. As it happened, he did both, shutting his eyes for a moment as she gently moved across his jaw before his eyes opened to focus on her pretty face, as she bent a little nearer and he swallowed.

Eventually she finished and moved round to look at him, tossing the razor into the tin as she smiled.

“There. Almost as good as new. It’ll do until we get back.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart.” Steve ran his hand over his now reasonably smooth face and took a deep breath, before he reached out, his hands taking hers. “Look, maybe, if I mean we actually make it home and get leave or whatever, me and you could, you know, perhaps go out?”

“You asking me on a date?” She smiled, and his face creased into a grin.

“Guess I am, yeah.”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her hands tenderly cupping his strong jaw, his own gripping at her hips, fingers flexing at the roughness of her uniform. Eventually she broke away and pressed her forehead to his, taking a deep breath.

“I really do need to wash up and hit the sack.” She sighed, her voice almost an apology but Steve didn’t mind. Whilst they’d already crossed that line in a way, this was fast becoming a little more serious. Yes, Bucky was right, they had no idea how long they had, but for the time they did have, he was going to at least try and do it properly. 

And bunking up again, on a pile of hard crates in the middle of some god-forsaken mountain trail was not proper. His mother would kill him.

Nodding to show he understood, he rose to his feet, his hands cupping her face as he placed a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Night, Doll. Or Morning, whatever.” He smiled and she gave a little laugh as he stepped back, heading to the door of the tent. With a final look over his shoulder, he swept the flap at the front open and left to find somewhere to lay his own head for a rest.

*****

Dawn had broken on the fifth day by the time they approached the camp gates. As Steve led his platoon over the brow of the hill he felt an overwhelming sense of relieve as he saw the barrier and the men guarding it. His sharp eyes picked up one of them holding up a set of binoculars before he harshly slapped them into the palm of his partner, before setting off at a sprint back into the camp. 

As they walked towards the blockade, the vehicles rumbling behind them, Steve turned to Bucky, giving him a smile which was met by one from his friend before he felt a smaller hand slide into his, giving a quick squeeze to his palm. He turned to his right and glanced down at Katie who looked up at him, her tired face bearing a look of utter relief. 

The gate was raised to allow them entry into the camp, people rushing towards them, staring in awe. Soldiers began to greet their comrades, and Steve could feel the sheer outpouring of emotion as people greeted the brothers in arms they had obviously never expected to see again.

“Here he comes…” Steve heard Katie mutter and he looked up to see Colonel Phillips pushing through the group. Steve simply continued marching forwards, drawing to a halt in front of the man, offering him a crisp salute. 

"Some of these men need medical attention." Were the first words he offered the Colonel and somewhere someone shouted for a medic. Steve continued to look at Phillips with a knowing expression and took a little breath in through his nose. "I'd like to surrender myself for disciplinary action."

The Senior Officer’s lips pressed together into a thin line and Steve could see him mulling things over, no doubt trying to decide whether to rip into him or praise him. In the end, he did neither.  

"That won't be necessary." Phillips said simply, which Steve knew was going to be as close to a well done as he was going to get. 

The Captain just about managed to refrain from smiling, as the slightest hint of a smirk twitched at his lips. "Yes, sir."

With that, Colonel Phillips turned to look at Katie. “You okay, Agent Stark?”

“Peachy, Sir.” She nodded before she gave a little snort. “Although I expect I won’t be once Howard gets hold of me.”

“Well considering he thinks you’re dead, I expect this will be a rather pleasant surprise.” Phillips arched an eyebrow and Katie looked down at the floor, swallowing. “Don’t worry, I’ll make the call so you don’t have to.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Steve watched as the Colonel turned to leave the group, stopping as he noticed Agent Carter standing to the side, looking rather smug for want of a better word.

"Faith, huh?" Phillips looked from Agent Carter to Steve and Katie, before shaking his head slightly and heading off towards the tents.

Peggy took a deep breath before she moved, stopping as she drew herself up to full height in front of Steve and Katie before she arched an eyebrow, her eyes flicking between the pair of them.

“You’re late.” She quipped as she locked eyes with Katie who snorted. Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out the broken transponder.

“Couldn’t call our ride.” He smiled back and Peggy looked at him, shaking her head slightly, her lips curling up into a smile, before she turned back to Katie and then all professionalism left her and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms round the other woman.

“We’ve been so worried.” She whispered, and Steve turned away, not wanting to intrude on their moment, even though his super sensitive hearing made it impossible to tune out of their conversation.

“You’re not the only one.” Katie replied, and Steve heard her voice crack a little and before he could stop himself he’d reached out, his right hand curling over her left shoulder. In what appeared to be an automatic response, Katie had reached up, her arm crossing over her chest to allow her fingers to briefly tangle in his and give them a squeeze. 

Agent Carter merely raised her eyebrow further, that smirk on her face growing wider before Bucky’s loud voice rang out to Steve’s left. 

"Let's hear it for Captain America!”

As the cheers rang round the camp, Steve allowed himself a little moment to bask in the genuine feel good factor that seem to have flooded the place at their return. It was self-indulgent, slightly egotistical, a little arrogant even, but at that moment in time, as he glanced down at Katie who was watching him, a broad smile on her face before her top teeth bit her bottom lip as she blatantly eyed him up and down, he couldn’t have cared less.

****

Chapter 7

[rhysismydaddy]

Inn Scene for Elriel

What would Elriel do if it was them on that one bed at the inn (where Feyre said she wanted 'fun') instead of Feysand? Would it be smut? Or sweet fluff? Can you please write this? I don't mind if it is steamy or fluffy! Thanks!!

Might I raise you and say both? HA. Wrote it this way because I came back to edit :)

____________________________________________

There’s nothing, absolutely no sign whatsoever, that indicates the man next to me is awake, but I know he is. 

His breathing is even and deep, but it’s like I can sense his attention on me. Even though his eyes are closed. His entire being seems tuned into mine, and it puts me on edge, even as I pretend to sleep. 

Honestly, I don’t think either one of us has relaxed ever since the owner of this horrible little inn told us there was only one room available. With one very small bed. 

It apparently wasn’t ideal, but we don’t have any other option. We’re making our way back to Velaris from a tense trip to the Illyrian camp Azriel had grown up in, and there’s nothing around for at least another days time. 

Cold and cranky, we’d climbed the stairs silently and changed into dry clothes, then gotten into bed and begun to dutifully ignore each other. 

At least, I am. 

He very well could be just trying to go to sleep. 

That’s the problem with Azriel, I’ve discovered. He never shows any reaction. I’m pretty sure I could stand in front of him and strip every last piece of clothing off and he wouldn’t blink an eye. Hell, he’d probably just give me that long-suffering sigh and ask what I was doing.

No reaction. Ever.

It makes being attracted to him extremely irritating. 

Flopping onto my side dramatically, I poke him in the shoulder and announce, “I can’t sleep.”

“That’s because you’re not trying.”

“Oh, come on. Wake up and talk to me.” He of course doesn’t, so I continue my list of demands. “Tell me about Hybern. Or your favorite thing to do. Or-”

“Go to sleep.”

I brood for a few minutes over his tone. Apparently he’s dead set on ignoring me tonight. 

Except I’m tired of being ignored. 

I’m ignored every single day of my life, and I think I’ve had enough of it. 

I sigh heavily and decide to test out my “no-reaction” theory. “Well, if you don’t want to talk, we could always just have sex.”

His eyes fly open so fast I laugh. “What?”

Is that interest in his voice, or incredulity? Or maybe both?

Trying to be casual, I say, “You heard me perfectly well, Azriel.”

“Yes, but I don’t know why you’d say something like that-”

“Because I’d like to have sex with you,” I declare, finding that now that I’ve actually said the words, I’m not embarrassed in the slightest. He makes a strange, choking sound that lets me know I’ve really surprised him, and I laugh again. “You know, for someone 500 years old, you’re pretty stupid.”

Once he’s recovered enough to speak, he asks, “Why in the world would you want to have sex with me?”

He says it like he honestly doesn’t know. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve me or something. 

Bracing myself up on one arm, I look down at him. His hair’s an inky spill on the pillow, and it looks so soft I have trouble not reaching and running my fingers through it. “Because you’re loyal and noble and attractive. Because you’re the only one who treats me like a person, not some doll that needs to be protected. Because you see me as who I really am.”

“And who are you, Elain?”

That’s a good question. 

“I’m just a woman. One who wants you, and has since the moment we met.” He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “I don’t see why this has to be complicated. It wouldn’t be for anyone else.”

“Because you’re not just anyone, Elain.” His eyes narrow, the spy in him determined to get all the information possible out of me. “Is that all you want from me then? Just sex?”

I ask myself the same question, but the answer is that I don’t really know. All I know is that for the first time in twenty years, I’m attracted to someone and want to do something about it. 

For the first time, I want to stop caring and just live. 

I’ve never been with a man; the closest I ever came was when Grayson kissed me after proposing. It was quick and clean, and I didn’t feel half as excited as I do when when I even look at Azriel.

So I have to wonder... what would it be like to kiss Azriel? To feel his body against mine, to see a smile on his face and know it’s from something I’ve done?

“I want... fun.” He raises a dark eyebrow, but I see the flare in his eyes. “I’ve never... I’ve never wanted anyone, but I want you, and I know you want me to.”

For a moment, he just lays there, looking up at me. My confidence starts to waver, just enough for me to ask shakily, “Am I wrong?”

Have I really misread a dozen lingering glances and sly smiles? Or have I been reading into something nonexistent? Or-

He’s on me in an instant, lips meeting mine and shutting the uncertainty off easily. It’s a soft and sweet and simple kiss, similar to the one Grayson gave me, but unlike my first kiss, my entire body comes alive. 

“No, Elain. You’re not wrong.” Azriel pulls back, hazel eyes searching my face, and gives me a very male look. “How much fun, exactly, are you trying to have?”

My lips are pulled into a smile as I put them back against his, and his hands slip into my hair, fingers threading through it carefully. Mine find his shoulders to push him on his back, but he sits up instantly, a serous look on his face. “Wings.”

That’s all the explanation I get before his arms are around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. I shiver from the chill and lack of blankets around me, and his hands slide over my arms, then his wings are around us, creating a dark, warm cocoon. 

A calloused hand guides my leg around his waist, aligning our hips, and I can’t hardly breathe at the rush of heat that shoots through me. 

He hears my harsh intake of breath and pulls back to look at me. 

Moving so slowly I squirm, his hands slip under the hem of my sweater, palms flat against my back. He watches my face as they move up, and eyes locked onto mine even as it comes off. 

Then they drop to track the movement of his fingertips tracing over my skin and coming to the three faint freckles just below my collarbone. He smiles as he spots them, then leans in to press his mouth against my skin. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, the rough timber of his voice rattling through me. 

I run my hands through his hair and he tilts his head back to look me in the eyes again. I get a little lost in him, in the so-obvious reaction he isn’t bothering to hide anymore. “Say stop, and I will. No questions, no judgement. Okay?”

“I won’t.”

His lips twitch, but he insists, “Say okay anyway.”

“Okay,” I whisper back, barely getting the words out before his mouth is back on mine. 

His chin nudges mine to the side, then his lips are working their way down the column of my throat. A gasp escapes me as he sucks on the place my neck meets my shoulder, and his lips curve into a smile. 

But he doesn’t stop.

He moves down to my chest, hands coming up to guide my breasts towards his mouth. Another gasp, then a shocked moan, slips out of me as his tongue swirls around the peak of one. 

Everything I thought I knew goes out the window as he kisses his way to the other, but I don’t care enough to be bothered by my lack of experience. 

My hips seem to move on their own accord, churning sloppily against his, and his hands drop to guide them.  

His lips meet mine again, tongue teasing mine, and I know right now how much trouble I’m in. I’m practically trembling with need, and all he’s done is kiss me. 

But, gods above, I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop. 

I release his name in a a sigh as his hand sneaks around my waist to toy with the hem of my leggings, my entire focus seeming to narrow to that spot. 

Azriel pulls back again right as his fingers slip between the fabric and brush against my skin. I try to kiss him again, but he evades and grins. “I want to watch.”

Oh, gods. 

His fingertips barely graze my center, giving me the lightest bit of contact, but my hips jerk anyway. He does it again, shifting slightly so he can see better, and the knowledge that he’s watching himself touch me is almost too much. 

Another soft moan escapes me as his thumb makes a small circle, and the caramel in his eyes seems to go molten. “Feel good?”

I nod immediately, and his grin grows. 

He slowly pushes a finger inside me, that thumb continuing to draw circles to keep me relaxed. He starts moving, somehow providing exactly the right amount of pressure to make me breathless.

And I think I’ve never felt so alive.

He leans to press a soft kiss to the column of my throat, whispering, “Are you having fun, Elain?”

A tremor works its way through me, and I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Almost.”

My hips are moving faster now, and he moves his fingers in rhythm, murmuring something I can’t quite hear. Soon I’m clutching his shoulders and feeling a strange sort of tension settle in my legs. 

“Azriel.” He curls his finger, and my thighs squeeze his waist. “Azriel.”

“Come on, baby,” he encourages, pushing into me a little harder. “Come for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I say back, even though I listen to him anyway. My legs go tight around him, my back arches into his chest, and I release a loud groan I’ll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow. 

But right now, I don’t care, because it feels like I have fucking lightening in my veins, and I’ve never felt anything so intense.

When I open my eyes, I see him watching me, and the realization that he saw all that brings a blush to my cheeks. “Wow.”

He grins. “Are you tired yet?”

I answer him by falling bac and grabbing the front of his shirt to bring him with me. Even though he could easily stop me, he gives in, landing on top of me softly and pressing me down into the lumpy mattress. His wings fall around us protectively, blanketing us in darkness. 

Blindly, I reach a hand toward them, hearing his sharp intake of breath as my finger meets down the sinewy material. 

“Elain.”

I ignore the pained way he says my name and do it again, then gasp as my hands are suddenly pinned above my head, his grip definitely firm but not painful.

For a minute, I’d forgotten who exactly I was in bed with. I’d forgotten that Azriel is nothing like any of the men I’ve met before. He’s old and powerful and... just more.  

It’s addictive.

His weight is making my mind spin, our chests roughly colliding with every gasping breath I manage to take. 

“Elain, you have to stop that,” he admonishes, pressing his hips to mine roughly so I can feel the affect of my teasing. “I’m not... I can’t-.”

“That’s a lie.”

He gives me a flat look, and my lips twitch. But an edge of seriousness grows into his gaze as he tells me, “I’m not taking your virginity in shithole. You deserve better.”

“I swear that between the two of us, you’re the only one who cares about that.”

He could take me in the middle of a snowstorm and I wouldn’t even care.

“I know, but... I don’t want you to regret me. I’ve seen what something like that does to a female, and I refuse to give you anything less than you deserve.” 

The words his a deep cord in me, and the sadness in his fierce eyes makes my chest hurt. “I could never regret you, Azriel. But I understand.”

He nods once, the gesture simple, and suddenly leans back up to lift me and put me back in my original spot on the bed. Curling behind me, Azriel wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight to his chest. “Good. Now go to sleep.”

I’m not quite ready. “I don’t know if I can, with you stabbing me with your-”

“Sleep, Elain.”

Still not ready. “What happens when we go back to the House of Wind? Will that be a fancy and deserving enough of a place for you to deflower me?”

He chuckles, arms going tighter around me, and mumbles against my neck, “We’ll see.”

_________________________________________________

TAGS: @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[managedmischiefs]

don’t leave me//spencer reid

600 follower celebration!! my first one shot in months because ive been so consumed with north. enjoy!!

also I didn’t edit this at all and worked on it for like five hours straight so excuse the mistakes plz and thx

genre: so much angst

pairing: spencer reid x female oc

warnings: drugs, withdrawal, overdose

word count: 5.2k

It isn’t hard to tell when something is wrong with Spencer. 

 Spencer is generally a sweet, patient, and quick-thinking person, especially at work. I joined the BAU when Elle Greenaway departed from the bureau and left a spot open for a profiler. Spencer didn’t seem to take well to the change in the team dynamic and it seemed like he shut down whenever I was around him. He didn’t talk to me much at all and when he did, it was strictly business. No banter about personal lives occurred between us like it did between Spencer and, well, the rest of the team. I chalked it up to an anxiety over change and I respected that. I gave him the time to warm up to me and thankfully, after a while, he seemed to take a liking to me.

Penelope Garcia is the queen of stirring up drama and once Spencer and I started to bond over our geeky tendencies, like using Doctor Who as a comfort show, and always searching for nerdy apparel in stores, she had no problem stirring the pot. To my understanding, she watched Spencer and I play cards together on the jet one day (on one of the rare days she came in the field with us) and then told Emily that we must be in love with each other. Emily told JJ, JJ told Morgan, Morgan told Hotch, and Hotch told Gideon. Suddenly the whole team became convinced that Spencer and I were madly in love and it only took about ten minutes.

    I would never admit it, not yet at least, but Penelope was dead on. Once Spencer and I talked more and spent time together outside of work, I fell hard and fast for him. He truly is unlike any other man in the world. He has no problem with staying at home for a night, in fact, he prefers it. He likes to open the windows when it’s raining to hear the noises of the water making contact with his fire escape. He wants to stay up with me until the middle of the night just so we can make sure we finish every Harry Potter movie on binge days. It’s hard not to fall in love with Spencer Reid. He makes it so easy. Of course, he’s oblivious and his brain is filled with thoughts of self-doubt and inferiority in the looks department, but I don’t need or want him to look like a model. He’s all I need.

 But one day, all of this stops. It wasn’t hard to tell that something was wrong with Spencer. It wasn’t a secret that a piece of Spencer’s soul was left in the grave he dug for himself under the watch of Tobias Hankle. It wasn’t a secret that Spencer struggled immensely upon returning home and having light withdrawal symptoms. I tried my best to help him, making trips to his apartment to bring him anything he might need while he was on his mandatory two weeks leave. But he would also give me an unconvincing smile and push me right out the door. He never let me spend more than five minutes inside his apartment. I never saw him sweat, or vomit, or shake, or yawn. I never saw his pupils dilate. 

 When he returns to work, a bit too soon for my liking, that’s when I start to notice the withdrawal symptoms. And for a little while, I’m okay with it. Withdrawal, although painful and torturous, is a step in the right direction. The drugs are making their way out of Spencer’s system and he is detoxing. I pay extra attention to him to ensure his safety, but nobody else on the team seems to give Spencer any care. They surely get pissed off when he snaps at them and sweats all over the case files and is far too nasty with possible witnesses. Nobody, besides me, gives his attitude any slack. But I continue to keep a close eye on him during the case.

 Keeping a close eye, however, reveals to me that Spencer’s withdrawal symptoms continuously disappear and then reappear during the three days we are away. I don’t need Spencer’s level of genius to figure out what is going on.

 My heart pounds against my chest when Spencer goes running of the jet the moment it touches down in DC. Not a single pair of eyes follow Spencer’s movements but my own. The others on the team just stand to pull their bags out of the overhead bins. They’re chatting about whether they should go out for drinks or to a restaurant for dinner but they’re not chatting about their friend who clearly has a problem. But I love Spencer more than anything and seeing him struggle makes me hurt inside. Once I retrieve my own carry on and go-bag, I drive straight to Spencer’s apartment. I ignore my fellow team members when they ask me if I want to join them for dinner. 

 “Spencer?” I knock on his front door and rock back and forth on my feet, waiting for some type of response from him. I saw his car outside and I know he’s here and if he doesn’t open the door within ten more seconds then I’m going to kick it down. 

 Thankfully, I don’t need to risk breaking the heel of my shoe today because the door swings open a second later. Spencer stands before me, looking the most disheveled I’ve ever seen him. His shirt is untucked, his pants are wrinkly, his hair is half curly from his excess sweating, and he isn’t even wearing socks or shoes. His long sleeve shirt makes my heart drop to my stomach.

 “Olive?” His voice cracks when he speaks. “What are you doing here?”

 “I’m here to-” I choke on the words I truly want to say and suddenly I’m pushing back tears. I try to swallow the lump in my throat and give him a smile. “I’m gonna make you dinner! The team is going out together but I’m in the mood to stay in after that horrible case.”

 “Uh,” Spencer glances behind him and then whips back to me, “I’m actually really tired and I just wanna sleep. So thanks for coming by-”

 My hands fly out when Spencer tries to close the door in my face. I’ve underestimated his strength up until now because I have to use all of my strength to keep him from pushing me out. But Spencer isn’t able to keep up his strength much longer and concedes, letting the door fly backward and unintentionally letting me inside. I drop my bags to the floor, eyes locking with Spencer’s and watching a fire light in them.

 “Spencer,” my voice is still far too weak for my liking, “I’m not leaving.”

 Spencer scoffs, slamming the door shut, just barely grazing my shoulder as it passes me. “Yeah, well, I want you to.”

 “I’m not leaving.”

 Spencer’s jaw tightens and his hands ball into fists at his side. He’s trying to stand tall and strong in front of me but he’s starting to crack by the millisecond. His chest heaves when he tries to choke back his tears and his eyelids start to flutter. If I wasn’t sure of the situation before I stepped inside, it surely has been confirmed right now. Spencer opens his mouth to speak and his chin trembles. “I want you to leave me alone.”

 “Absolutely not,” I step closer to him but he steps backward, not allowing me to diminish the distance between us. “Spencer, please. Let me help you.”

 His head drops, his shoulders caving in. “I don’t need help,” With his eyes on his feet and no longer on me, I take the opportunity to grab his arm. He tries to jerk away from me the second my fingertips brush the fabric of his shirt but I told him as tightly as I can. He whimpers in my hold and his crack start to get wider and wider. “Olive, please.” 

 “Just let me see, Spence,” I’m already begging and I’m already crying. “Let me see. Let me help. I’m here for you.”

 Spencer squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away from me, his first tears dripping down his cheeks. He stops trying to escape my hold and just cries, his clothes clutched in his hands. It’s not an invitation whatsoever but I take it as one, rolling up Spencer’s sleeve past his elbow. The crook of his elbow is covered in track marks, some fading and some bright red and bloody. It takes every ounce of my energy not to break down right then and there as my worst fear comes true. But Spencer breaks down when his biggest secret is revealed, his knees giving out and his body tumbling to the floor. I follow him down, cradling him in my arms as he sobs into my chest. I shush him and stroke his hair, rocking him back and forth, like a child, to calm him down. 

 “It’s okay, Spencer, shh,” I coo, my fingertips coated in sweat as I coax my fingers through his knotty locks. “Everything is gonna be okay, my love. I’m here and I’m gonna help you.”

 “No.”

 “Yes. Spencer, look at me,” I don’t give him the option of where to bring his gaze to. I grab his cheeks and force his gaze up, his eyes bloodshot and his face soaking wet. “You can’t keep doing drugs. You’ll lose everything, you know that. You’ll lose your job, you’ll lose me, you’ll lose your life, you’ll-”

 “I’ll lose you?” He’s never sounded more like a child than he does now. He’s whimpering and whining and crying out and clinging to me as tight as he can. 

 I give the hardest answer yet and I feel my heart break in my chest. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll leave. I can’t-”

 Spencer starts to scramble to his knees, legs wobbling under his weight. “You can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. I love you, Olive. Don’t leave.”

 I know it’s the drugs talking but it doesn’t make the confession hurt any less. The confession is what I’ve waited so damn long to hear. But it’s wrong right now. Admitting my love will do nothing but hurt both of us. Spencer isn’t in a good state of mind right now. He probably won’t even remember that he hastily confessed his love while trying to convince me not to leave him. I find myself forcing down tears yet again.

 “I won’t leave you if you get clean,” I brush back his hair again and this time, it slicks back with sweat. “You can’t keep living your life like this, shooting up in bathrooms and hiding from your friends. Get some help and get clean. I can’t sit back and watch you destroy your life, a life that you worked so damn hard to get.”

 Spencer collapses under his own weight, no longer able to sit up on his knees. He falls onto all fours, his head hanging between his shoulders and his tears falling onto the carpet. “I can’t do it. It’s so painful to stop. I need it to be happy. I need it to escape.”

 I smooth my hands over his shoulders and where other people would probably feel tensed up muscles, I feel relaxed muscles as Spencer melts into my embrace. “Then let me take you to the hospital. They can help make the detox less painful. They can give you medication and you can get counseling and I’ll be there for as long as I’m allowed to be.” 

 “No, none of that. Here. I wanna do it here.” Spencer lifts his head, sniffling and huffing through his tears. “I’ll do it alone. Please leave. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

 “Absolutely not,” I rise to my feet and lean down to help Spencer to his feet, baring all of his weight on my shoulders as we trudge towards his bedroom. “I’m not leaving you like this. I’m gonna call Hotch and get time off for both of us.”

 Spencer lets out his millionth whimper of the night when he falls onto the bed, immediately curling up on his side and squeezing his eyes shut. “Please. Go.”

 I kneel beside the bed, bringing my hand to his cheek and stroking his soft skin gently. The simple motion actually seems to calm him for a millisecond before he starts to shake, clearly being hit with an onslaught of chills from his inevitable fever. So I tug the blanket over his body and tuck him in, pressing my lips to his forehead. “I’m not gonna abandon you, Spencer. I’m gonna help you through this and you’re gonna return to your happier, drug-free self. You’ll feel better soon. I promise.”

 I stayed true to my promise. I didn’t leave Spencer alone for a single second while he suffered through withdrawal. I washed his vomit and sweat-soaked sheets. I wiped his tears and held him when he cried. I dragged him from room to room when he didn’t have the energy to carry his own weight. I cooked him food on the rare occasions that he was actually hungry. I whispered sweet nothings in his ear when he needed the reassurance that someone actually cares. I located his stash of needles and excess vials and threw them in the dumpster outside, not even wanting to risk leaving them in a trashcan in the apartment. There is no doubt in my mind that Spencer wouldn’t have gotten through this without me. I was harsh with him when he begged for ‘just one more hit’ and I held him when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night. There is no doubt in my mind that Spencer would have given in to his cravings and started this mess all over again.

 After two weeks, Spencer starts to get better. He is able to walk without assistance and he can eat two meals a day without throwing it up ten minutes later. It’s a relief and the sun finally starts to shine through the clouds that had been lingering for too long. He still needed at least another week off of work to work up his strength and catch up on sleep in order to not look like the living dead and Hotch starts to get suspicious of such an extended time off. I tell him not to ask and for some reason, he listens. Maybe he just knows and is glad that someone else dealt with Spencer at his lowest point. Yeah, that’s probably it. 

 After three weeks and a promising night where Spencer makes me dinner for the first time in weeks, we return to work. The team is happy to see us and they don’t question why we were both gone for so long. But I’m almost positive it’s the same reason that Hotch didn’t question the time off.

 I made sure to visit Spencer in his hotel room and I always, somehow, made sure that he was never in a room alone. One night of being alone could make him spiral and that is the last thing he needs. So if he was in a room alone then I would sneak out of mine and sleep with him. It seemed like he started to enjoy sleeping in the same bed as me, opting to cuddle me close to his chest instead of turning his back to me. His confession always seemed to echo in my mind when he would kiss my head or squeeze my waist but it was just the drugs talking. He didn’t mean it.

 One month clean and Spencer seemed to be doing amazing. He boasted about how he deleted his drug dealer’s number from his phone and how he would eat meals without me reminding him to and how he could be on his feet for more than twenty minutes without being winded and needing to sit. I don’t think I had ever felt so proud of a human being until I shoved all my pride onto Spencer. Sure, he didn’t necessarily want to get the help that I gave him, but he went along with it and it’s a joy to see him return to his old happy-go-lucky self. 

 But then the team gets called into a meeting. The phonecall wakes me up in the middle of the night and sends me rushing to get dressed in something other than pajamas, but I just wind up putting on new sweats. I rush out the door and to the vacant building, throwing my holster on my hip and riding the elevator up. I blurt out a load of apologies for y lateness as I stumble into the conference room and realize I’m the last two arrive.

 “Aww,” Morgan coos sarcastically as I sit down beside him, “it was so nice if you to get dressed up for us!”

 “I swear to god,” I hiss, but he knows I’m just teasing, “if you don’t shut up right now then I’ll-”

 “Okay,” Hotch shuts me up far too easily, standing at the front of the table with his arms crossed, “we’re all here. Let’s start.”

 “Is this a new case?” Emily wonders, eyes darting between Hotch and the table that is usually filled with case files.

 “No,” he sighs and looks down at his feet, and this is probably the most emotion I’ve ever seen from him before. “Tonight-”

 “Wait,” I sit up and glance around, suddenly alarmed, “We’re not all here. Spencer isn’t here.”

 Hotch holds his hands up to me in his second way of telling me to shut up. “I know that. He already knows what I’m about to tell you all.” This does absolutely nothing to erase the red flags in my mind. “I know we all struggled with our last case, and Gideon struggled the most, for obvious reasons. Tonight, Spencer went to his cabin to check on him. It turns out that Gideon had left a note for Spencer to say goodbye and he has sent in his resignation. He has officially left the BAU.”

 Okay, listen, I barely knew the man. I haven’t been on this team for too long and Gideon favored talking to Hotch and Spencer. He didn’t interact with me much at all, except to correct me, so I’m not too torn up about his departure. Yes, he just created a huge hole that needs to be filled but that’s not my main concern. Spencer is. He isn’t here and he just learned that the man who has been his father figure for years just abandoned him in the same way that his father did when he was a child. Nobody should be alone at a time like this, and Spencer especially shouldn’t. 

 JJ is the first to ask a question but I don’t even hear it. Hotch answers and Emily follows and then Penelope is squealing and Morgan shouts over everyone and it’s far too crazy. I just need to know that Spencer is okay. He is the only thing I care about. He made so much amazing progress and he absolutely can’t erase that.

 “I need to go.” I blurt out suddenly, standing from the round table and rushing out of the building. I call Spencer relentlessly and get no answer. I go straight to voicemail every time. I slam on my gas pedal.

 I don’t lock my car and I barely remember to close my door before I’m bounding up the stairs and to his apartment. I couldn’t care less about the other residents who are probably fast asleep by now. I bang on Spencer’s door, shouting his name once, twice, three times, and get nothing. I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

 “Spencer! Come on, open up!” I cry out, jiggling the handle and hoping it’s unlocked. “Please! Let me in!” The energy radiating from the apartment makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. 

 I take two steps back and breathe in a deep breath, preparing me for whatever could be on the other side of this stupid door. I’ll never be ready to see what I know is waiting for me. I lift my foot up and slam it against the door, the lock snapping and allowing the door to fly open. I burst inside, shouting Spencer’s name frantically as my eyes search desperately for his adorable curls and his soft cardigans. 

 It takes me no more than thirty seconds of frantic running to find Spencer. When I do, I wish desperately that I hadn’t.

 His body is slumped against the bathtub, head hanging backward and his mouth wide open. His shirt is off and a rubber band is still tied around his bicep. The bathroom wreaks of vomit and there’s a needle in the sink and a broken vial on the floor. He looks haunting similar to the crime scenes we observe every day.

 I drop to my knees in front of him and grab onto his cheeks, lifting his head up. “Spencer?” My sobs are uncontrollable as my thumbs stroke his freezing cold skin, searching for some sort of life. “Come on, baby,” I resist the urge to shake his head in my hands. “Spence, please, wake up!” 

 I wait for another second. I get nothing. No eyelids fluttering. No sniffles. No coughing. No vomiting. No screaming. No crying. Nothing. There’s nothing left.

 Working through my sobs, I reach into my backpack and fish out the little box I’m searching for. I set it aside momentarily and try to gather Spencer in my arms as best as I can, pushing and dragging him until he is laying on his back in the most comfortable way his lanky body will allow in the cramped bathroom. Gosh, if only Spencer was conscious. He would be freaking out about being on the bathroom floor.

 I pull out the nasal spray and administer the Narcan into Spencer’s nostril, tossing it aside and then rolling Spencer onto his side. I don’t dare to tear my eyes away from him, even as I fish my phone out of my backpack and call 911. I babble on about there being a federal agent down and how I’m a federal agent who administered a dose of Narcan and how someone needs to help Spencer now but it all seems like a foreign language to me. Nothing is right anymore. The operator tells me someone will be there soon and to stay on the line, so I set my phone down and lean closer to Spencer.

 “Spence?” I wait for a reaction. “Sweetheart, come on, don’t do this to me,” my tears fall onto the floor and create a puddle beside his hands. My trembling hand reaches out to push his hair back, admiring the way his locks curl around my fingers. I admire the way for eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks and how beautiful his lips look. I wish I kissed him when I had the chance. Now I might never get the chance to be with him. The thought makes me cry harder and I double over in agony, crying out for the love that I will never get to have and for the life I will never get to live. I should have told him I loved him when he said it first. How could I be so stupid?

 I have no recollection of the paramedics arriving. Being pulled away, kicking and screaming Spencer’s name, is a complete blur of smeared lines and flashes of light. I do what I can to erase the image of Spencer being carried out on a stretcher, his rubberbanded arm dangling off the side, and into an ambulance. I clutch Spencer’s hand and shut out the words of the paramedics as the ambulance speeds to the hospital. I barely even recall being plopped in a waiting room and being told to await further instructions.

 I slide down the wall and tuck my head between my knees, hoping that being bent over will minimize the volume of my cries. But it doesn’t and sobs take over my body, leaving me shaking and quivering. If Spencer were with me, he would hold my hand and quietly tell me how many germs are on this floor and statistics on how easy it is to catch and infection in a hospital. He would talk to distract me from the horrible situation going down. But he’s not here and I’m alone and there’s nothing I can do to help.

 “Olive?” I ignore Hotch’s voice when I hear it. I pay no attention to his softer than usual tone and I don’t dignify his presence by acknowledging it. I keep my head down and clutched between my knees and try to quiet my cries. Hotch crouches down beside me and tells me how he was notified of the situation and how the team is on the way but I ignore him. He never cared about Spencer before so why should he now?

 True to his word, the rest of the team has arrived at the hospital within ten minutes. They form a circle in front of me and bounce around questions about what happened. Is he alive? How much did he take? What did he take? Where is he now? They never address me directly and just keep shooting questions around and receive no answers. It’s exhausting to listen to. I’m exhausted.

 “Hey, Olive?” Penelope crunches next to me in the same way Hotch did, placing her hand on my shoulder. I shake it off. She pauses before speaking again. “Could you tell us what happened?”

 For the first time, I lift my head. Everyone is in their pajamas and looking just a little less distressed than me. I’m sure I look horrendous. I surely feel horrendous. I’ve never felt worse in my life. I’ve never loved a person so much just to have them ripped out of my life. If Spencer doesn’t recover from this, I know I never will.

 “He,” I lift my hands to wipe my cheeks but stop mid-air, wondering just how many germs are on my skin, “overdosed. To my knowledge, he’s been clean for a month and-and-” my lips quiver again, “I guess Gideon leaving was too much for him to handle. He thought he needed drugs to make him feel better.”

 JJ leans into Emily’s side, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. “Why didn’t he just call one of us instead of going straight to drugs? We all would have dropped what we were doing and gone to help him.”

 The absolutely idiotic statement sets me on fire. I clamber to my feet, sadness replaced with anger within a millisecond. “Really? Would you have?”

 JJ furrows her eyebrows and looks to the team for more support. “Of course. Spencer is one of my best friends.”

 “We all would have helped him,” Morgan adds.

 “Oh, really?” I sneer at them. “Were you there to help him last month when he was detoxing? Did any of you come to see why Spencer and I took three weeks off from work without warning? No! None of you texted or called or visited like real friends do. Did you even care that he obviously had a drug problem? Did any of you notice?”

 Emily scoffs at the accusation, her anger starting to rise to mine. “Of course we did! I even asked him about it once and-”

 “Once!” I let out the most sarcastic laugh that has ever dripped from my lips. Sleeping patients be damned, I will let out my anger at these inferior ‘friends’ and tell them the truth they need to hear. “You asked him once? Well, I spent three weeks living at his apartment, cooking, cleaning, holding him, reassuring him that he would be okay. And all you did was ask him about it once?” The realization is starting to set in on their faces that maybe this issue is bigger than they thought. “He needed real help and support from his friends, and yeah, he had me but he would have done a lot better if he had all of his closest friends supporting him.” They all fall silent, as they should. They stare at me and each other and everyone cries over their friend who they should have helped.

 “Olive,” Hotch murmurs, “when you gave him the Narcan, did he wake up?”

 This prompts more tears. “No.”

 “Spencer Reid?”

 I whip around as fast as I can at the sound of a doctor approaching, leaving the team in the dust to approach him. “Hi, yeah, I’m here for Spencer Reid. I’m his emergency contact.”

 The doctor smiles at me and he waves me along, leading me away from the blabbering BAU and towards a room. “So,” the doctor says, “he’s extremely lucky. You administered the Narcan just in time. A few more minutes and Mr. Reid probably wouldn’t have made it.” I barely pay attention to the looming fear of Spencer’s death. If I hadn’t gone running out of the team meeting, Spencer would have died. “We’ve given him the proper medication, he’s in this room, and he should be waking up soon. When he’s feeling better, we can talk about proper treatment and recovery for Mr. Reid.”

 I thought that maybe I cried all the tears my body could handle but that is proven wrong. He’s going to be okay. Going through detox again will be hell but now he can get professional help. He’s going to be okay.

 I step into Spencer’s room. The sight of him lying in the bed is reminiscent of him lying on the bathroom floor and it makes my head pounds and my heart break. His elbow is bandaged up so his track marks are hidden and his hair is a matted down mess. But even lying there, helpless and in pain, he still looks like the man I fell in love with. The man who learned to braid hair and actually drove a car a few times and went shopping with me just to make me happy. He’s a shell of the man I love but he’s there and I know we will meet again soon.

 Spencer starts to stir a moment later, tossing his head side to side gently. I creep over and slide my hand in his, squeezing softly. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet but there are tears streaming down his cheeks, soaking the top hem of his hospital gown. His hand tightens around mine and suddenly, my cheeks match his.

 “Hi, sweetheart,” I breathe out, bringing our hands up to my lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “you’re okay. Everything is gonna be okay.”

 Spencer lets out a high pitched moan, his head rolling over to face me. “I’m sorry,” he slurs out. “I didn’t mean to.”

 “I know you didn’t mean it, Spence. I’m not mad. Just relax. I’ll be right here,” without letting go of his hand, I reach over and push a chair against the side of the bed. “Get some rest.”

 “You won’t leave me?”

 “No, Spence. I’m never gonna leave you.” 

[ary-se]

Heater || Juza/Reader

wrote this in a rush before pulling in buzama banner,, was super busy so it slipped off my mind:---) if i still don't get him, at least he actually comes home in this fic,, but in a completely different sense so i don't think it counts ;-((((

edit: game is still on itaru banner but hey,, gotta do it early 😌✌

word count: 2.5k

"I'm home." Juza muttered under his breath, softly closing the door behind him as to not make any noise. He greeted to no one, being completely aware that he would not receive any sort of response in return, knowing to himself that he got home hours late compared to the time he usually arrives.

Slipping off his shoes that you got him for his promotion half a year ago, he gingerly placed them next to your own pair of heels that you used nearly everyday for work, subconsciously remembering that it was the same pair he bought you for your birthday. In the back of his mind, he wondered when was the last time he stayed silent as he entered his own home, waiting for somebody else to welcome him back before he finally decides to announce his own appearance.

During the first weeks of moving in together, it was hard for you to tell whenever Juza got home—almost every action of his barely made noise whatsoever, right from his numerous attempts on unlocking the door with his own set of keys down to his footsteps as he walks to the living room. It wasn't wrong to say that it kind of felt like an innocent child trying to sneak in somebody else's house, but in reality that wasn't the case at all. That time, your only basis of knowing when he arrives is the time he leaves work and how long it took for him to drive home.

"You better say you're home when you get back from work next time! That way I don't get a heart attack when I see you out of nowhere!" You lightly scolded him once, the panic still completely evident in your features. It was when you were preparing both of your lunches for the next day—you were too deep in thought while keeping yourself busy that turning around and bumping your head directly to his chest nearly made you scream. It didn't exactly help when you learned a few questions later that he has been standing behind you for a few minutes already.

"...Sorry." He quietly apologized, not knowing what else to say right after you reprimanded him. It wasn't his intention to make you feel that way—the reason why he never tried to make anyone acknowledge his presence in the first place is because he didn't want to be a bother. That was why when he realized that you were getting concerned over an issue that he was unconsciously avoiding for the longest time, he already started to weigh the consequences of his own actions.

Juza is so used to putting himself down, degrading his own existence—it was to the point that the notion of other people aside from his family openly welcoming his presence was such a foreign concept to him. If he was being completely honest, he does not have the slightest idea on how he is supposed to feel when that happens, and he doesn't like it one bit. Juza wants to be able to at least show that he is more than capable of feeling appreciation, gratitude like normal people do, however his mindset built from constant self-humiliation holds him back from doing so.

While Juza does not exactly find the thought of his presence being acknowledged as something he is comfortable with, it's an idea he would gladly take pleasure in—as much as possible, he prefers to get used to it, especially if it meant being able to indulge himself into the simple joys of life with you by his side.

From that moment forward, there wasn't a day when he doesn't utter the words "I'm home".

For the first few times, the words were undeniably stiff and iffy coming from his own lips. He sounded incredibly awkward, as if he was forced into saying those particular words. After a week or two, you told him that he doesn't have to say it every time if he really is uncomfortable—you were starting to feel guilty that you had a momentary outburst over something that truly didn't matter in the end. It wasn't even a problem to begin with; there was nothing to fix, so why were you making a big deal out of it?

"No, it's fine." Juza simply shakes his hand in response, rubbing circles to the small of your back to reassure you that he totally meant what he said. His expression gradually steeled into determination as he answered, a huge contrast to his hesitant features from earlier. It was as if he is completely resolved to improve himself even in the smallest ways possible, a way of paying you back for your consideration and patience towards him despite his reputation. Juza believes he still doesn't deserve that kind of treatment from you no matter how many times you comforted him, saying that wasn't the case at all.

Soon enough, Juza was able to say those words comfortably—they roll out from his tongue much more easily than before, as if he has been saying it his whole life. Those words were always spoken out the moment he steps in the house, admittedly expectant of the usual "Welcome back!" from you.

That small exchange became the norm whenever the both of you were back from work. It may appear trivial to other people due to how common those pleasantries are between people who live together, but it held an important meaning to the both of you. It somehow signified the moment you opened up to each other, which was beyond the act of sharing secrets and making memories together—it was far from that. The change of the dynamic between the two of you after that was almost indistinguishable, but it's definitely there. And you're absolutely sure he noticed it, too.

He said those words so much and so often that he soon made a habit out of it. After some time, it didn't really matter to him if you responded or not—the latter solely implies that you were already fast asleep, which normally happens when he comes home late like today.

Juza took off his coat and slowly hung it on the rack, carefully tiptoeing his way to the dark as to not make any unnecessary noise. He prepared himself for the moment he is going to shiver from the room temperature—it is often cold downstairs in the middle of the night, Juza is painfully aware of this because of his occasional snacking on sweets whenever he wakes up during the ungodly hours. That happens more often than he would like to admit, and although he tries to keep quiet about his midnight kitchen raids, you will find out the next morning anyways.

Really... how would it not be awfully obvious, when you swore that you brought home a dozen of cupcakes from work without eating a single piece, only for half of them to suddenly disappear the moment you wake up?

Juza didn't fail to notice how the floor was unusually warm in the middle of the night, the current room temperature more comfortable than he anticipated. The heater isn't supposed to be turned on around this time—that rule is applicable to all of the rooms in the house except the master bedroom, that is.

Did you forget to turn it off before going to sleep?

He let out a curious hum as he approached the dining room. This was one of the rare days when he was too tired to even think of getting some sweets from the fridge—he should turn off the heater first before he retires for the night by your side. That was his only plan, at least not until he picked up soft, muffled voices from the living room. He doesn't recall you texting him earlier about having any visitors, and even if you did, it still doesn't make sense when all the lights were turned off.

Puzzled, he took a peek at the living room in order to figure out what was going on, his confusion getting the best of him.

To Juza's surprise, the voices he heard were coming from the television. It was running the old season of a variety show that he recalled got you way too invested, you eventually felt the need to record all of its episodes during the weekdays. It was the same series you binge watch every Friday night when you're off work with nothing to worry about for the next day.

Most of the time, if not all, Juza joins in your marathon just for the sake of it, and as time passes he unwittingly gets as engrossed as you. It was to the extent that his normal sleeping schedule that he has miraculously maintained for years started to get messed up during weekends. Gradually losing track of time, he always stayed up with you to watch all the recent episodes non-stop, at least that was the case until the last recording finishes playing. Almost every marathon ends with the both of you being panicky despite the sleepiness invading your systems, dawning into the unfortunate realization that the sun is about to rise in a few hours.

You were asleep on the sofa, your body using up majority of the space as you faced the dimly-lit screen. The soft breathings were barely audible, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with the low-volumed beats of the advertisement running on the television. You wore your pair of oversized purple polka-dotted pajamas, the ones you claimed that were definitely not your favorite—pretty doubtful however, considering that you always wore that specific pair of pajamas first and foremost whenever you finish doing the laundry.

The locks of your hair splayed messily on the throw pillows behind you, your figure tightly hugging a certain bolster pillow that Juza swore you brought downstairs from the master bedroom. You didn't fall asleep on purpose, which was apparent from one of your arms awkwardly stretching over your head, your hand dangling on the side of the sofa.

Juza shook his head in resignation. You're going to complain about your shoulder being stiff tomorrow if you stay that way, idiot.

He silently went his way towards your side, fully intent on fixing your position so he would be able to properly carry you to your side of the bed, all while doing his best not to disturb you on your peaceful slumber. Before he could do any of that however, he stopped right in front of your resting figure, kneeling eye-level to your face as he closely observed your relaxed expression.

The soft glow of the television highlighted every contour on your features. The wrinkles between your eyebrows were growing more prominent from the emotional strain you were experiencing at times. Just a few nights ago, Juza recalled you ranting to him about the things that happened to you at work, the frustration in your voice clearly building up as you spoke. The same wrinkles on your forehead creased, your eyebrows digging deeper in every single word you uttered. It wasn't like you to blow up, so Juza figured it was something serious—he will still listen to you either way, regardless if what you'll say is of great importance, or just pure nonsense that came out of nowhere.

You need a good rest, the stress was clearly taking a toll on you—you deserve to take a break more than he does. That was why the last thing he expected to see today is you waiting for him.

Juza sighed. It wasn't necessary for you to do this.

He already texted you that he was most likely going home late due to mishaps in his workplace, which was indirectly a gentle reminder that you did not have to wait for him to come home. Juza always got home in a particular hour so whenever he had to work overtime, the unavoidable guilt always weighed heavily in his chest. He appreciates the fact that you always understood his actions, no matter what the reason was behind it.

"You didn't have to wait." Juza immediately told you as soon as he saw you still downstairs—it was when he got home late for the first time. That time, you also fell asleep in the living room while waiting for him to come back with your phone on your chest—you left the screen turned on by accident, displaying the text messages you and Juza shared. There was a recent message of him telling you to go to sleep, though it remained unread as you were out like a light before you even had the chance to see it.

"I know." You replied drowsily, your tone impulsively confident as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Juza sent you an inquisitive gaze as you yawned on the sofa, stretching your arms to relieve the soreness of your body from falling asleep in another odd position. Your sleep-addled brain refused to let you think of a good response despite all that, so with all of your remaining energy that night, you gave him a lazy smile as you peeked at him through your drooping eyelids. "But I wanted to."

Your sincere but somehow dopy response told him that this wouldn't be the last time you'll be doing this—he is positive you'll attempt to stay awake if he is once again unable to leave work on time. If he was being completely honest, he felt bad whenever you did that—it wasn't his intention to trouble you by sacrificing hours of sleep for him, which he was sure you definitely needed.

That simple act that you did so often didn't make him less grateful of your patience towards him. If anything, it just gave him more reasons to love you, even though the list is already longer than necessary, ranging from your tiniest, adorable habits to the considerate, thoughtful personality of yours—it was frankly a complete difference to how you managed to draw him in by brute force.

Juza knew right from the start how stubborn you were when it comes to things that mattered to you, so whenever he has to go home late, he is subconsciously aware that you'll pay no heed on what he said about not having to wait for him. Even though that's the case, every time he arrives really late at night, your sleeping figure always manages to catch him off-guard.

"You didn't have to wait." Juza whispered, a soft smile crawling its way onto his lips. His hand instinctively reached out to your cheek, something he typically did before he goes to sleep every night. A part of him was unwilling to pull away, his touch lingering much longer than usual—he stayed like that for a few more moments, barely noticing your free hand extending to his.

"Juza?"

Your eyed opened, clearly in a daze as you stared at him absentmindedly. He only hummed in acknowledgement, observing your eyes shining from the brightness of the television screen. Despite waking up moments ago, you still find it in yourself to lace your fingers together with his, your expression crinkling from the beam forming on your lips. "Welcome back."

He gives your hand a light squeeze. "I'm home."

[bywordofaphrodite]

Book Reviews 1 & 2: The Enchanted Wood and Adventures of the Wishing Chair by Enid Blyton

This review’s theme is magical children’s fiction ! Audience age range: early childhood !

Fun fact about me: I have fairy tales running through my head most hours of the day.

Magical lands and whimsical characters run freely through my mind any minute I have to spare, or even the ones I don’t. It has always been this way for me, whether in school, university or at work- when I am meant to be working on assignments or attending to patients in the hospital I work at- and Enid Blyton’s stories played a part in this, so it seems fitting I discuss her writing for my first post.

When faced with choosing a project for myself this semester, it was actually the memory of Enid Blyton’s novels that prompted me to decide to write book reviews of childhood favourites. I’d forgotten her name at first, and all that remained was an illustration of blue jelly and a boy with silver hair… and the name of the artist who illustrated my copies of the series: Georgina Hargreaves. One google search was all it took to remember it all! Then I ordered all three Magic Faraway Tree books and the Wishing Chair ones in the exact editions I had as a child, because I have no impulse control whatsoever.

Nostalgic review

Rating: ★★★★★

For my nostalgic review- otherwise known as my thoughts on these novels purely as I remember them from childhood- I’m giving five stars. They meant everything to me as a kid, and I reread them more than any other books I owned. I would choose a chapter before bed and travel into the magic lands at the top of the tree along with the main characters, exploring whatever good, evil or downright silliness happened to be up there at the time (and then stay there for a good few hours past my bedtime using the light under my door to squint at the pages and destroy my already dreadful vision just a little more for good measure. Sleep schedule who?)

I easily favoured the Magic Faraway Tree books over the Wishing Chair ones, though I loved them both dearly. I’m going to assume the reason behind this was because I preferred the tree to the chair, as- aside from Jo- I don’t recall ever having an affinity for any particular child amongst the main characters. I do also remember a great deal more of the goings on in the lands above the tree than I can the adventures in the chair, so it seems fair to say I read one a lot more than the other.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, these books cemented who I wanted to be when I grew up: a writer- a published author, to be specific- and an artist. Not just these two series, but anything Blyton wrote- her teen detective and boarding school series being notable favourites of mine. As detrimental as this dream has been to my family’s wish for me to become a lawyer, I must insist that everyone blame Enid Blyton for this and not me!

The Enchanted Wood Review

Post-read: ★★★

Synopsis: three children move from the city to a small country house with a forest out the back which they later come to know as the Enchanted Wood. There they come across a giant magical tree known as the Faraway Tree, where they befriend the many magical creatures living inside the tree, and explore the lands that settle above the tree every day.

Okay so! First up, I finished it so quickly. I’ve always been a very fast reader but even so I expected it would take several hours to read… it took roughly an hour despite minor interruptions by my siblings, so it’s very simplistic and easy to read. However… this level of simplistic is not, in this case, a good thing, at least in my opinion. I’ll elaborate on this further toward the end of this post, but the best word I can think of to describe the writing is ‘stunted’.

I read a few articles to see others’ thoughts on the novels, and one review stood out as being critical in multiple ways, some of which I agree and some I don’t really care about. I’ll link it here.

This review reflected a lot of the same points I considered upon rereading the books. Charming points: google buns and the Land of Birthdays; weak points: repetitive and a bit too holier than thou in the attempt to teach ‘lessons’. In terms of Flood’s (the review author) criticism, the renaming of the children from Jo, Bessie and Fanny to Joe, Beth and Frannie in new copies does not really bother me, although my own editions have the original names (the change of the children’s cousin from Dick to Rick was a wise choice, though Rick is an ugly name as well, but I digress). As with many modern changes to old novels, older generations criticise ‘politically correct’ motives, and Flood does exactly so here- miffed at the decision to rename one of the recurring Faraway Tree villains from ‘Dame Slap’ to ‘Dame Snap’. Flood likens the character’s previous habit of slapping naughty children to the witch in Hansel and Gretel locking children in cages, (I would think the cannibal element of this tale would reinforce the comparison more but maybe that’s just me???) asking why, if that fairy-tale hasn’t been changed, should Dame Slap have to adhere to modern discipline? Personally I’m mostly unconcerned with this either way, though Flood makes an interesting point. The woman is a villain either way, so a little clip over the ears is likely to properly drive the point home in my opinion, anyway.

And before I move on from this review, Flood’s hot take on the Saucepan Man is 100% on the ball- why was a grown, non-magical man walking around strung up with pots and pans all over himself and hanging out with a group of children? To be sure, he was not in his right mind, so I’ll shift the question to the parents here, who were fully aware that their children were spending time in the woods with this man. Very odd business indeed.

Characters who aged well: Most of the main characters remained likable to me. Jo was always my favourite as a kid, and he remains so- his impatience provides some comedic quotes and he never leaves his younger sisters behind on adventures, unlike many male characters in Blyton’s novels (I am looking DIRECTLY at you, Famous Five boys). He also doesn’t belittle his sisters at any point, even when they’re frightened, which is another thing that irked me about many of Blyton’s male characters. Using only the first book of the series for this review means that it’s possible that Bessie and Fanny are more prominent characters in the other books, but in this one it felt very much centred around Jo than I remembered- they are likable but don’t really do too much aside from Fanny’s banger of a birthday party which I’m rather jealous of. Upon rereading I like Moonface a lot more, but that’s probably because I resented my grandmother calling me ‘Moonface’ (I’m aware I have a round face, I do not need to be reminded of my eternal struggles on the daily). Silky is still a queen in my eyes- pretty, feminine, funny, kind and best of all a fairy. No flaws at all, I love her. In retrospect, Silky is equally my favourite alongside Jo.

Characters who aged badly (to me): as aforementioned… the Saucepan Man. To be fair, I never cared for him in the first place, and the same goes for his best friend Mr. Watzisname because he was downright maddening. Also, Dame Washalot can drown in her own washing. She managed to annoy me more than Dame Slap… at least Dame Slap was entertaining.

Favourite scene/quote: “‘Fishing!’ said Jo, in disgust. ‘Who wants to go fishing in the middle of a birthday party? Let’s get back at once.’”

This quote sounds so mundane but in context I just find his tone very amusing- Jo is always exasperated and impatient so his perpetual annoyance with everyone’s nonsense is relatable and funny. Furthermore, he says this during my favourite scene in the final chapter where they all travel to the Land of Birthdays for Bessie’s birthday. Bessie invites everyone living in the Faraway Tree to her party, which is essentially formed up in the land above the tree. Upon arrival, everyone can go into a small house with fancy dress costumes and choose anything they like, and then choose a table in the middle of a field. The table is set with cutlery and plates, and from there you must ‘wish your own tea’, as Silky says, which fills the table with jellies, lemonade, chocolate blancmange and other party food. Best of all is the birthday cake- also known as wishing cake- which grants a wish to anyone who eats it. Unfortunately, the Saucepan Man’s poor hearing ends up turning ‘wish’ to ‘fish’, and Fanny has to waste her own wish to get them back to the party, hence Jo’s vexation. The ending is very sweet though, with Moonface gifting his wish to Fanny and all of them happily going home. It was a lovely way to end the first book in the series.

Adventures of the Wishing Chair Review

Post-read: ★★

Synopsis: two children discover a magical chair with wings in an antique shop that leads to a host of new adventures and a new pixie friend they rescue along the way.

Like I said earlier, I preferred the Faraway Tree series to the Wishing Chair and that remains the same. The concept of lands coming to the top of a tree- and choosing whether to go up there or not- is more my style, and if the weather is bad you can just stay home, while the chair you just have to go with it. The Faraway Tree itself is also really wonderful, with all the interesting houses and shops inside it, and especially Moonface’s slippery-slip. On the contrary, the main location for the Wishing Chair series is the children’s playing room, and the chair itself is an utter menace. The villains are more irritating in this series- which is their job, I get it- but the children themselves aren’t quite as likable as Jo, Bessie and Fanny either. Mollie and Peter argue plenty and can be very selfish and silly at times, which is realistic, sure, but that doesn’t make them any less meh. The other main character is a pixie called Chinky (yes, I’ll get to this soon) who they rescue from slavery in a giant’s castle, and my opinion on him varies between chapters. There are some really cool places they go to and the illustrations make reading this more enjoyable despite the hasty writing and relatively flat characters.

Characters who aged well: ???? I mean… Mollie and Peter aren’t exactly my favourite children ever but they’re not too bad. My main criticism would have to be that there isn’t really anything defining about their personalities; to a degree I would say they are just a whinier version of Jo, Bessie and Fanny. I don’t think Enid bothered too much about changing base character traits in her stories, to be honest. There are a few characters like Witch Snippit and the Windy Wizard who help Mollie and Peter when troubles arise, but as the adventures always begin with the chair in the children’s playroom there aren’t really many magical recurring characters to properly consider.

Characters who aged badly: the children’s MOTHER. She is beyond irritating in certain chapters- like when she decides to take the wishing chair to her own lounge room simply because she likes it, even though the children themselves bought it and expressed how much they love it. Plenty of parents do this in real life and it is just as annoying in fiction. Secondly, the wishing-chair. Magical chair that grows wings and can fly to magical lands is cool, yes? Sure, except when it has mood swings and randomly decides to fly through storms or simply land in the sea for no reason I can think of. This is a very petty chair… yet I know I would keep it anyway so I can’t complain too much. I’m going to add Chinky here too, and not because he got saddled with a slur for a name- he gets fired up about minor things way too quickly and causes drama for no good reason, though perhaps I should cut him some slack after his time spent in forced servitude. Also, he makes a few sexist comments to Mollie so maybe the giant had a point after all.

Favourite scene/quote: ‘One rabbit turned upside down and danced on its ears, and that made Peter laugh so much that he had to get out his handkerchief to wipe his tears of laughter away.’

Peter being this happy just made me happy. This quote is from my favourite scene, when the children fly with some elves to attend a magician’s party. There is no villain to be seen, and the room is filled with classic Blyton details of top tier food like cream buns and blancmange, and beautiful birds that sing sweetly before flying freely. The magician has dancing cats appear, and ‘six plump rabbits’ that dance while the cats play violin. Finally, the magician gifts everybody a tiny egg he tells them will hatch later. When they arrive home, Peter’s hatches to reveal a tiny silver watch and Mollie gets a necklace of beads that look ‘exactly like bubbles’. This always sounded so pretty to me, and I had a necklace from my mum that looked exactly as Mollie’s was described, so I’ve always remembered this scene very well.

Overall verdict:

I’m torn. I love parts of these books so much, I love the nostalgia surrounding them, and yet I must admit that without a childhood connection it would difficult for a new reader to enjoy, and probably not the first choice in a bed time story to read to children nowadays. I think for me, I like having these books back on my shelf again, and I like knowing I can go back to read my favourite chapters whenever I want, despite the criticisms I have. In a way, I like knowing I am capable of recognising the books’ faults while still appreciating the good parts of them. I do not regret buying these books again- in fact looking at the artwork and reading the words has inspired me to get to work on my own plan to write a book of fairy tales (with the representation I would’ve loved to see alongside the magic as a child, and minus the problematic details).

With this in mind:

- Blyton’s writing skills… are sorely lacking. Her sentences are stunted and sometimes she changes locations so hastily within one small paragraph that if you so much as skim over one sentence you’ll find yourself in another land entirely (haha). I am wholly aware these books are intended for children but I have read other novels for that age group that have been well-written, so my criticism stands.

- I should just rewrite the books myself. I don’t care if this sounds arrogant, I know I could make the stories more compelling with a few tweaks to, say, writing skills, story structure, making better use of the amazing concepts, fleshing out the characters more, etc. (again I’m aware they’re children’s books)

- Enid Blyton herself was not a very nice person, and her own daughter criticised her writing for being emotionally immature and seeing things as ‘black and white’. Anyone who has read her other novels knows that she was very racist- ‘gypsies’ managing to be the villain in most of her teen detective stories, amongst other issues, so Chinky the pixie is not exactly a surprise appearance. It was Chinky, in fact, who first alerted me to racial slurs. As someone with partially Asian heritage at an almost completely white school, it took me asking my (rightfully) concerned father what ‘chink’ meant when some kids started calling me by the word in school… I then connected this to Blyton’s pixie and to this day am morbidly entertained by this unfortunate memory. I’ll link the article here, in case of any further curiosity about Blyton.

In the Faraway Tree series review I linked earlier, the writer said of the books, ‘it’s an odd feeling, finding the classics of your childhood don’t really stack up’. In many ways, I feel the same. Is it all nostalgia, after all? Yes and no. Having such a balanced opinion on an old favourite is likely healthier than clinging to past memories, anyway. With all of these thoughts jumbling through my mind, it’s possible that my rating of these novels changes depending on my mood- and more importantly, which chapters I read. Perhaps the fact that my favourite chapters are all devoid of confrontation is something a therapist would suggest looking into, but you know what? It’s fiction. If I have to get my happy endings in books alone then so be it!

[ginger-and-mint]

Happy birthday Myx! 🥳🎂 Have Several questions because I Want To Know Things. ^^; Illness & Injury 6 for everyone, Whump 2 & 3 for everyone, and Writer's 2, 13, 19, and 46 for you!

thank you Mel! ♡ and oh my gosh I’m so delighted by this abundance of questions!

6. What is their go-to remedy for an upset stomach?

Kara and Bramley both like some warmth on unhappy tummy. They’ll make themselves tea, more for the warmth than anything else, and sip it while taking it easy. Kara is likely to get herself a little warm pack too if she can.

Malia tends to go straight for medicine or a tonic. She doesn’t like to be slowed down by her body, and so will opt for whatever she thinks will be most effective in the shortest amount of time.

Si, being a song-mage, was once surrounded by fellow song-mage friends they could ask to cast a stomach-settling healing spell on them. With that option off the table, they'll also look for a fast-acting medicine or tonic.

Grayson and Elliott both try to ignore an upset stomach for a little while in the hopes that it’ll settle. When that fails, Grayson will go get himself a tonic and complain to his friends until it kicks in, while Elliott will either try sitting quietly and sipping on water or tea, or if he can get away, just sleeping it off.

Ryder is knowledgeable enough to take a different approach depending on how upset his stomach is. For something minor, he’ll make himself a digestion-easing tea, like mint or chamomile. If he knows that won’t be effective, he’ll go straight to a tonic. When it’s something he’s eaten that’s not agreeing with him, sometimes he’ll just go make himself throw up to get it out of his system.

2. What is their pain tolerance? Do they close their eyes and block it out, or go into a full blown panic?

Grayson really hates tolerating pain, but if he has to, he can take a lot. Most of the time, he will remove himself from painful situations as quickly as possible and complain bitterly about anything that hurts. But if the chips were down, he would turn out to be a lot tougher than anyone expected.

Bramley is a Sweet Baby and We Do Not Harm Him is not really used to enduring pain and has a low tolerance for it. He would close his eyes and block it out rather than panicking, but not really be able to do anything except sit there and block pain until he was Helped. c’:

Kara is Pure Sunshine and We Do Not Harm Her Either has a pretty high tolerance for acute pain and doesn’t panic about injuries, but she has been known to get faint from them. She’s also easily worn down by chronic discomfort, like being too hot or cold or just having a constant dull ache of some kind.

Malia is the opposite. She can put up with low-key pain or discomfort for a long time, but an acute injury would freak her out a lot more than she’d like to admit.

Ryder has a high pain tolerance on all fronts, honestly. As soon as he feels pain, he looks for a solution to ease it, and if there are none to be had, he’ll grit his teeth and block it out.

Meanwhile, poor dear Si is not great with pain. Song-mages are primarily healers, and so Si is really used to having even little hurts soothed quickly and easily. They don’t panic when in pain, but they do get extremely miserable.

Elliott has a very high pain tolerance when the pain feels within his control; he can power through even the worst headaches or stomachaches, for example. But as soon as the pain feels out of his control (i.e. he gets injured), he panics.

3. How long do they typically take to recover from illness or injury compared to average?

Ryder and Kara, by virtue of Robustness and Being Sensible People who largely take care of themselves when under the weather, are quick to recover.

Grayson and Malia both heal quickly from injuries, but take a little longer with illnesses. With Grayson, it’s more a matter of him not being back to himself until his symptoms are completely gone (he is very much a Man Flu type of guy.) Meanwhile Malia will treat an injury with appropriate care, but is likely to push herself back to full capacity before she’s fully better from an illness, leading to a slower recovery.

As big and strong as Bramley is, he’s actually a little more delicate immune system-wise. He tends to be a slow recoverer, even though he’s good about looking after himself when sick or hurt.

Elliott and Si also tend to have slow and uneven recoveries, but in their cases, it’s due to hooliganery. Si takes good care of themself during the uncomfortable phase of their illness or injury, but as soon as they feel 90% better, they’re eager to leap back into life with their usual zeal. That’s not always a great idea and can lead to them prolonging whatever is afflicting them. Elliott, on the other hand, is just a stubborn idiot who doesn’t take care of himself. He’s particularly bad about this with injuries, often aggravating them and even making them worse because he won’t give them the rest they need to heal.

2.     Are you a pantser or plotter?

Usually I lean more towards plotting, although I do leave a lot of room for the new directions and ideas I know I’ll discover during the process of writing itself. But Ginger and Mint is the big exception -- I started writing it with zero plan whatsoever. I do have an outline for it now, but I was probably eight or nine chapters in before I made it.

While the final product is definitely not as a polished as it would’ve been if I’d planned it from the start, it was honestly super refreshing to not worry and just write. I’ve been trying to bring a little of that experience over into my more serious writing -- it’s so easy to get caught up in plotting and forget to leave room for writing itself to be a generative process.

13.  Describe your writing process from idea to polished

Have idea. Whee!

“Mark out” the things I want to happen in the story or chapter:

I usually do this by writing out short snippets of prose or dialogue related to the ideas I’ve had about each moment. For example, let’s say I know I want a moment where Grayson talks to Ryder. I’d type up a couple lines of dialogue and/or maybe a line about Grayson encountering Ryder and noting what he’s doing or how he’s looking -- whatever’s relevant to the scene. Basically, whatever ideas I have about that scene will be represented in writing in the “mark.”

I have all these marks ordered in the document in the same way the scenes will eventually be chronologically ordered. For me, having visual space is important for my ability to think, so I hit the enter key enough times between the marks that I can see only blank space when I want to work with a certain moment.

Build out each mark until I have a full scene. I do try to go roughly start to finish, but definitely jump back and forth depending on what I’m feeling most inspired by or what my brain seems to be spitting up ideas about. I also skip ahead whenever I feel stuck, which is both a blessing and a curse.

Go back and string the scenes together. Add transitions, fill in any missing pieces, etc.

Re-read the full thing from start to finish and make final edits. Yay, done!

19.  How do you keep yourself motivated?

goooood question fam

I struggle with this as much as the next person (see: 2.5 year G&M hiatus). I haven’t discovered a foolproof method of motivation yet (pls advise if you have), but I do tend to feel inspired whenever something reminds me why I want to write this story. That could be thinking about a scene I’m really excited to share, re-reading a scene that reminds me why I enjoy portraying a certain character or environment -- anything along those lines.

46.  Do you reread your own stories?

Yes, the ones that I like! Some things I’m not particularly proud of and don’t go back to very often, but re-reading pieces of writing I do like helps me feel motivated, inspired, and confident.

[chameli]

I watched Aadmi Khilona Hai (1993) and oh boy, was it a steaming pile of shit. 

Read at your own risk.

This film is about two brothers, Sharad (Govinda) and Madan (Jeetendra). Sharad is an orphan who was raised by his older brother, whom he also kind of worships as a God. Madan is married to Ganga (Reena Roy) and they have a daughter, Guddi. Ganga is also pregnant, which we only know because she randomly ends up in the hospital to give birth.

Sharad meets Poonam (Meenakshi Seshadri) at college by - you guessed it - being a complete creep. She blows him off but they keep running into each other. They eventually fall in love. Poonam is poor and lives with her grandfather and sleazy uncle. Some random guy her uncle hangs around (played by Dalip Tahil) is in lust with Poonam and will stop at nothing to get her. The uncle helps this creepy old dude, but Poonam overhears and runs away.

***MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING*** While Poonam is trying to escape these goons, their jeep runs over two homeless old men sleeping in the street. They are then shown screaming in pain while their blankets are soaked in blood. WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU INCLUDE SOMETHING LIKE THIS? JUST WHY?! I know they were just acting, but that broke my heart and was really traumatizing to watch.

Anyway, Sharad magically happens to be there and saves Poonam in time. Dalip Tahil's character is never seen or mentioned again after this. Okay, literally what was the point of him anyway? Sharad and Poonam are quickly married.

Oh, and Ganga also has this really horrible aunt who always comes over for some reason. Bua (Sulabha Deshpande) is trying to get her daughter married to Sharad, but the daughter ends up falling for Sharad’s friend (played by Laxmikant Berde). However, their romantic subplot literally goes NOWHERE. This couple, for some reason, even have a weird song together. Anyway, Bua likes to talk mad shit about Poonam any chance she gets, despite being constantly told off by the entire family. Like...why are you even here, lady? Gtfo.

Poonam soon finds out that she can never have biological children. She goes on a huge spiel about woman who can't bare children are incomplete, how God made her a defective woman who can't even do the one thing she was made to do, blah blah blah. I was rolling my eyes so hard at this point.

Suddenly, Ganga gets this genius idea to GIVE HER SON AWAY WITHOUT EVEN ASKING HER HUSBAND ABOUT IT FIRST. Because who cares about the father, it’s not like it’s his child too or something. Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK? What kind of mother gives her child away to her sister-in-law, just because the SIL is unable to have her own? A child this woman carried, gave birth to, and is the actual mother of. This isn't even about being selfless, it's a very cruel thing to do to a little baby. Madan comes home and Ganga tells him what she's done. And guess what this mf does? He cries tears of joy and thanks God for blessing him with such an amazing partner. BRO THAT'S YOUR SON, WHAT THE HELL? DO YOU NOT EVEN CARE A BIT ABOUT YOUR CHILD?

I can't even at this point. That's like me telling my sister "Hey, I can't have kids so give me your baby!" I'm sure there are many orphaned kids out there Sharad and Poonam could have adopted, buuuut THEY ALL GO ALONG WITH IT BECAUSE BHABHI IS SO PURE AND SELFLESS. Who cares how much trauma and confusion this kid will have when he's older, right?

Five whole ass years later (aka the very next scene), the kid, Suraj aka Munna, grows up into the whitest looking child I’ve ever seen. Sharad and Poonam are visiting the older couple when Suraj shows off his brand new, expensive video game. Ganga chastises Poonam for wasting money. She then asks Sharad to give her about 10-15,000 rupees so she can replace the temple floor with marble. Sharad casually says it's a waste of money and Ganga is FURIOUS. Literally, she takes this soooo personally. Oh, and to make matters worse, Suraj somehow wins the lottery. This makes Ganga lose her shit even more. 

That's when Bua starts to emotionally manipulate her by turning her against the family. Ganga starts acting like a huge bitch and even takes Suraj (her own son) away from Poonam and Sharad. Madan finds out and he’s angry. He tells her it's over, rips her mangalsutra off, and leaves with the kids. Ganga freaks out and starts destroying everything in sight. She tells Bua to fuck off, then injures herself and faints.

Madan arrives at Sharad-Poonam's house and tells them he's left his wife. Sharad's all, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? If you severed ties with your wife, then you've also broken our bond! Excuse me? Bros over hoes! They all quickly go back to the house where they find Ganga knocked out. After gaining consciousness, she apologizes to everyone and begs for their forgiveness. Of course, they instantly forgive her. Madan also arrives and takes her back, but I didn't bother to listen to whatever crap he had to say. Then everyone is happy again and the film ends.

THIS ENTIRE FAMILY NEEDS INTENSE THERAPY!!!

Govinda always plays the pure, holy, golden-hearted devar (younger brother/brother-in-law) in every single one of these campy family entertainers. I confess, these type of films are my guilty pleasure but sometimes they're too much. He played the same role in Bhabhi, another dumpster fire.

Meenakshi Seshadri is one of my favorite actresses, but she didn't have much to do except cry and look pretty. Reena Roy's bright green contacts were really distracting and Jeetendra was just there.

It didn't make sense how Ganga, who always told Bua to shut up, was suddenly so easily manipulated by her. And this was only about 30 minutes before the ending, so it made NO sense whatsoever. A more powerful actress like Aruna Irani or Bindu would have made this situation more believable.

The editing was terrible. We literally go from a scene where Suraj is a newborn baby to one where he's about a year old. And in that same scene, Madan comes back from a business trip...bro, how long were you gone? Outfits were repeated constantly. Reena Roy woke up and wore the same outfit/makeup/jewelry that she was sleeping in the night before. Some scenes end abruptly and random things happen which aren't mentioned again.

And now for the pros - the soundtrack was really good. I LOVED Bahot Jatate Ho & Mehndi Lagane Ki Raat. Those are such underrated gems.

If you read all of this, you may be entitled to financial compensation 🤭😂🤣

[primatechnosynthpop]

It's A Sad Webisode, But We Film It Anyway

(Aka, the things I write when I should be doing schoolwork...)

It was a cold, gray morning. The coldness was due mainly to the fact that Neil had left his bedroom window open the previous night, and the grayness was due to the fact that he hadn't cleaned the house in a while, leading to his walls being covered in a gray film of dust. Both those oversights were due in part to his natural aversion to housework, but also to the deep depression that was hanging over him lately, much like motes of dust. And that particular morning, his cold gray surroundings provided the perfect backdrop to his sullen morning routine.

It had been a whole week already. That was hard to believe. The sound of screams still rang in his ears sometimes when he closed his eyes, and he couldn't pass by that old house without shuddering (that much was already true beforehand, but now it was a deeper shudder, often accompanied by the prick of tears in his eyes). Worse still, he was hit with an overwhelming sadness every time his gaze landed on that urn… which happened often, because the urn was sitting right there on the kitchen table. He would have put it away somewhere where he didn't have to see it as often, but that would feel disrespectful. It was so weird to think that the little pile of dirt inside that urn had once been one of his best friends. It seemed like too small a container to fit someone so brave, so kind-hearted, so loyal. But there it was--all that was left of the true-blue American hero.

Neil heaved a weary sigh which turned into a yawn halfway through as he trudged into the kitchen. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes and pushed his bedraggled bangs out of his face, but his vision remained slightly blurry, so he took off his glasses and winced at the realization of how smudged they'd gotten. That wasn't even related to him being depressed about Kevin; he was just a mess that morning for no particular reason. But after wiping his glasses off on his pajama top and splashing some cold tap water on his face, he was all fired up for another day of wallowing in grief… just as soon as he had a nourishing bowl of stale cereal that just didn't taste as sweet these days.

As he was pouring his cereal into the bowl, though, something unusual fell out of the box--a little rectangle of shiny paper. Neil blinked, befuddled. His first thought was, did I just win a prize? He checked his cereal box for anything mentioning prizes or contests, but all he could find were nutrition fact charts. In fact, after tilting the box every which way, he finally found a line of text on the inside flap reading There are no fun prizes in here, just cereal. Eyebrows knitting together, Neil looked back at the scrap of paper tucked neatly amongst his cereal. Well, either the box was lying, or this piece of paper was something else altogether. Something like…

*

"It's a message from the studio!"

Neil's eyes were startlingly bright, and he had a grin to match. He was illuminated in the doorway by the rising sun behind him, which was just beginning to crest over the horizon. Did he usually get up and about so early in the morning? Moreover…

"They want us to make another webisode?" Ryan frowned as he examined the piece of paper Neil was shoving in his face. "Can we do that? I mean, you know, without…"

He trailed off, gaze dropping. Neil, naturally knowing exactly what he meant, sighed and scuffed his shoes against the porch. A moment of silence passed between them, during which they both thought of the missing member of their team. Making webisodes would be a lot different without Kevin, and probably not in a good way.

Then Neil suddenly brightened again. He stepped across the threshold into Ryan's house without an invitation--he didn't immediately object to it, so it was fine, probably--and shut the door behind him, not wanting anybody to listen in.

"Yeah, they want us to make a Greek mythology inspired webisode this time." He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and read out the note he'd received:

Dear New Kids on the Rock, sorry for your loss. We will be sending in a new team member to replace James sometime in the next month. In the meantime, you need to continue making movies if you want to keep getting paid. For your next webisode, we'd like you to make an adaptation of a Greek myth.

Sincerely, Plymouth Rock Studios.

"I see…" Ryan stroked his beard, eyebrows raising. "Perhaps we could adapt the myth of Erysichthon eating himself to death, or Lycurgus of Thrace being cursed with madness and mistaking his son for a plant, or…"

"No, no, don't you get it?" Neil interjected, shaking the paper furiously in Ryan's face. "This is our chance! We can do the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, and that way--"

Ryan realized what Neil was getting at just in time for them to exclaim it in unison:

"We can get Kevin back!!"

"You go fetch the filmmaking equipment," Ryan told Neil. "I'll open a portal to the underworld."

"Alright!" Neil enthused. "Be right back!"

He scampered off, grinning wider than he had all week--which wasn't a high bar to clear, because he hadn't smiled whatsoever all week, except for in the fleeting moments when he forgot what had happened to Kevin, only for that momentary forgetfulness to come crashing down and plunge him back into misery at the sight of the urn on the table. But that was all going to change now. Heck, he may as well just throw out that dusty old urn, because he wouldn't be needing it anymore after this mission.

*

Somewhere far below the aboveground realm of the living, in a dark field of ash that stretched forever, a soul wandered amidst countless others. He couldn't remember who he was when he was alive. He couldn't even remember his name. And worst of all, he couldn't see a thing. In fact, the only reason he knew he was in a dark field of ash was because all the other souls kept moaning about it.

Time here didn't flow the same way it did in the living world. He could have been there for an hour or for a century. It felt like the latter. But he had no way of checking, because even if there were any clocks around in this barren field, he wouldn't be able to see them. And he couldn't hear any ticking, so probably no clocks. But hey, on the plus side, no ticking meant no pipe bombs either. At the very least, he didn't have to worry about dying a second time.

And he was definitely dead. That was the one thing about himself that he was sure of. The one scrap of memory that lingered in his mind was the sensation of a tentacle piercing through him, severing his major arteries. Although he couldn't look down at himself to be sure, it didn't feel like this hole was still there when he patted himself. But he didn't have a pulse either, so… yeah. Definitely dead.

He'd like to say it wasn't so bad, really. He had all those other souls for company, right? But all of them were a drag to talk to. Most of them could only moan and groan, and those he encountered who could actually speak were too caught up in emotional turmoil to carry on much of a conversation with. So it was just an eternity of wandering blind and aimless through a desolate field of his fellow ghosts, then. Great.

*

"Geez, this place is giving me the creeps," Neil muttered, trying and failing to suppress a shiver as he surveyed the barren wasteland. "It's so… ghost-y."

Ryan flicked a clump of ash out of his hair with a disgruntled huff. "I'll say. Who would have thought the land of the dead would be so dull and gloomy?"

"Yeah, our webisode isn't going to turn out very visually appealing…" Neil shrugged. "Oh, well, I guess we can edit it in post."

They lapsed back into silence then, with the only sounds being the ash crunching under their shoes and the low moaning of the pale ghostly figures that weaved here and there around them. Then, after a little more walking, Neil stopped, struck with a realization that was accompanied by a pang of dismay.

"Wait. How do we know which of these guys--" He gestured at the countless ghosts milling around them, all featureless save for the vague outlines of indistinguishable faces-- "is Kevin?"

"Oh, yeah…" Ryan turned to look back the way they'd come. Keeping the portal between worlds open was expending a lot of his energy, so he hadn't been paying much attention to all the ghosts… "Maybe we even walked past him already and didn't notice."

"W-well, he'd recognize us, wouldn't he? I mean…" Neil shook his head, unwilling to even consider the possibility that they could encounter their friend and have him not know who they were. That was the kind of thing that happened in movies when people got brainwashed, and it usually led to some kind of big fight. He didn't think he'd be able to take Kevin in a fistfight.

Ryan prodded Neil to snap him out of his troubled thoughts. "Hey, maybe you could get his attention by playing a song."

"Oh, that's right!" Neil held up his trusty keytar, which he'd been carrying with him the whole time. "That is how the myth goes, isn't it? Let's see…"

He ran his fingers along the keys, playing a scale. A cold wind stirred in the previously stagnant air, blowing clouds of ash around--Ryan coughed and swatted the dust away from his face--but most of the ghosts didn't seem to notice, with only a couple of them slightly raising their heads before carrying on their aimless trudging. Still, Neil was encouraged. He kept playing, eventually branching away from scales and into the basic pop song chords.

According to the myth they were adapting, that was how it was supposed to go: someone goes down into the underworld, plays a song, finds the person they came for, and then they leave. At least that was the gist of it. Neil was too eager about this mission to bother poring through any dusty old tomes of mythology beforehand. He knew the basics, and that was the important part; everything else he could just make up as he went along.

Ryan nodded, satisfied with this development. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out the video camera that he'd also been carrying with him the whole time, and started filming Neil playing his song.

"You're doing great," he called in encouragement when Neil's playing faltered. "Keep it up, and we'll lure Kevin out in no time!"

"I don't know…" Neil sighed, shoulders slumping. Looking around, he still didn't see any ghosts that looked like they might have been Kevin. "If this is where everyone goes when they die, then there must be hundreds of souls here--maybe even thousands. Do you really think we'll find him?"

"I'm sure we will," Ryan replied, but only because he knew that was what Neil wanted to hear. Truth be told, he was pretty skeptical about the prospect of them actually finding Kevin. And even if they did, he just had a bad feeling about this whole mission… he couldn't shake the feeling that there was some important factor they were forgetting.

Neil could sense Ryan's thinly-concealed pessimism, and it put a damper on his spirits, which were already pretty damp to begin with. Still, he wasn't ready to give up just yet. If nothing else, they had to complete their webisode so they could get paid. And so he straightened up, looked into the video camera, and launched into a bona-fide performance.

*

After an indeterminable amount of time spent trudging aimlessly around the void, music rang out through the ash-crusted air.

It was a rhythmic keytar beat, reminiscent of 80's synth pop. Surprisingly catchy. The lost soul raised his head and turned to face the direction the sound was coming from, and although he couldn't see, an image flashed through his mind. The mental image vanished before he could pin down what it was, but it left him with a sense of inner warmth--a sharp contrast to the desolate cold of the field. The music was good, then. He should go toward it.

At as brisk a pace as he could manage while maneuvering around the countless other wandering souls, he followed the source of the sound. A palpable excitement began to thrum through him as he ran. Somehow, this felt like coming home.

As he grew nearer, a voice spoke over the music--not singing, but a whisper edged with what sounded like concern.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep that portal open. Maybe we should leave."

Panic spiked through the lost soul, not unlike the phantom sensation of the tentacle piercing his body. Another mental image flashed through his mind: two men turning their backs on him and walking away.

"N-no!" he cried. "Don't leave me here!"

As soon as he spoke up, the music stopped. Disoriented by the silence, the soul staggered to a halt. If he still had a beating heart, he was sure it would be pounding frantically, and if he had lungs he'd be panting to catch his breath. As it was, he just stood still, staring sightlessly ahead and praying that he hadn't just been abandoned.

Then another voice spoke, quiet and shaky as though with disbelief.

"…Kevin?"

*

Well, you sure wouldn't know it was Kevin just by looking at him. He looked no different from any of the other countless translucent gray figures wandering around the field. The only notable difference was in his behaviour. Unlike all the other souls, only a few of whom displayed the slightest interest in Neil's keytar performance, this one was standing stock-still and appeared to be staring right at them.

"Is that… me?" The soul's voice was low and distorted. It didn't sound exactly like Kevin. But it didn't sound like someone completely different either. "Am I Kevin?"

Neil and Ryan exchanged an anxious look. What were they supposed to say to a question like that? After a moment, Ryan cautiously stepped toward the ghostly figure.

"I don't know… are you?"

"You…" The soul shook his head, his transparent outline of a face twisting into a pained grimace. "I know you, don't I?"

Looking at him up closer, Ryan noticed one physical difference that set this apparition apart from the others. Where all the other souls had the pale outlines of eyes, this one did not. Pulse picking up in excitement, Ryan glanced over his shoulder at Neil and waved him over.

"I think it's him."

"Really?" Neil made his way over to the soul and tried to pat it on the arm, but his hand just phased through it. "How can you tell?"

"Its eyes are missing, see?" Ryan poked his fingers through the empty part of the soul's face where eyes would normally be. "Just like what happened to Kevin."

"Oh, yeah…" Neil shuddered at the memory, which he'd spent the past week trying to put out of his mind. "Well, if it is him, then we should get him a new pair of eyes. He'll need them if we're supposed to keep making webisodes."

Throughout this exchange, the soul took in the achingly familiar sound of those two voices. He knew them, he knew he did! A series of mental images flashed through his head in quick succession, each vanishing before he could properly take them in. He clutched his head and shook it with a growl of frustration.

Then that last word stuck in his head. Webisodes… Yes, that was a familiar term. Another image flashed through his mind, and this time it lingered just long enough for him to identify it: two men--no, three men, himself included--hunched over a laptop, watching a little progress bar labeled "uploading…" tick slowly forward. He remembered drumming his fingers against the arm of the couch they were sitting on, chewing his lip, anxiously awaiting their newly made video to finish uploading to a certain website…

"H-hey, guys," he said slowly, incorporeal body trembling with the weight of the question, "What's that website called again?"

Eyes widening, Neil immediately snapped to attention, and began instinctively rattling it off.

"Http://--"

And suddenly the lost soul remembered, with the force of a tidal wave crashing over him, who he was. The three of them shouted it out together, in perfect unison.

"Hollywoodeasttv.com!!"

"Kevin," Neil gasped, tears of joy welling up in his eyes, "It really is you!"

"Yeah," he replied in a shaky voice, breaking into a grin. "It's me."

He flung his arms around Neil and Ryan, and although his ghostly form just phased right through them, he could feel their warmth, and it made him feel warm and alive as well. They stayed like that for a moment, huddled in a tearful quasi-embrace, until Ryan gasped and pulled back.

"Guys, the portal is closing. We've gotta run!"

Neil grabbed at Kevin's wrist. When that obviously failed, he got another idea. "C'mon, Kev, follow the sound of my instrument. We're gonna get you out of here."

They took off at an urgent pace, heading back the way they came. Ryan walked in front; Neil walked close behind, playing an improvised melody on his keytar; and Kevin took up the lead, only occasionally stumbling over one of the other spirits before righting his course and hurrying to catch up. When they got to the portal, it was still most of the way open, with easily enough room for them all to walk through. On the other side of that portal was the familiar interior of their clubhouse. Just a few more steps, and…

Ryan suddenly stopped walking, causing Neil to bump into him. At the sudden pause of the sound of his friends' footsteps, Kevin stopped as well. Neil prodded Ryan in the back with a puzzled frown.

"Hey, why'd you stop? We're almost out, we just have to--"

"…But that's not how the story goes."

"What?"

"We're adapting the myth of Orpheus, aren't we? He doesn't get Eurydice out of the underworld," Ryan said. Although he kept his voice level, a sharp pang of remorse squeezed at his heart as he spoke. "If we don't adapt the myth correctly, the studio won't be happy."

"Oh…" Neil gulped. "You don't think they'd fire us, do you?"

"I don't know, but we probably wouldn't get paid."

"What are you guys talking about?" Kevin asked, putting his hands on his hips. From his position a few feet behind them, he couldn't hear all of what they were saying over the groaning of the other spirits, but judging by their tones of voice, it couldn't be good.

Neil, beset by guilt at the prospect of leaving his friend behind, tried to glance over his shoulder at Kevin, but Ryan grabbed his head and twisted it back in place. If Kevin saw Neil looking at him with those plaintive puppy-dog eyes, he'd know something was up.

"Oh, nothing," Ryan said way too quickly and loudly. "Just saying how great it's going to be, you know, when all three of us are back in the world of the living…" He leaned in to whisper to Neil. "Listen, I don't like this any more than you do, but we can't take him back with us."

"But we came all this way," Neil objected. "Can't we just turn the video camera off now and edit it in post?"

"Are you talking about the video we're making this week?" Kevin interjected, walking up closer so he could hear them better. "What's it about?"

"It's, um," Neil stammered, "it's a--an inspiring sports movie?"

"Well, it's a good thing you guys came to get me, then," Kevin replied cheerfully. He slung an arm over Neil's shoulders, or performed as close an approximation to such a gesture as he could when he was still incorporeal. "What've you got so far?"

"O-oh, yeah, um… hang on, I've got it somewhere…"

Ryan tugged on Neil's sleeve and motioned toward the portal, which was now gradually growing thinner. "We should go," he reminded him in an urgent hiss.

"…Right, yeah… um…" Biting his lip, Neil gave a shaky nod of acknowledgement in Kevin's general direction without turning to face him. He couldn't bear to look him in the eyes (or lack thereof) just then. "Well, it's been nice seeing you again, Kev."

"Wait, what? You guys aren't taking me with you?"

The confusion and distress in Kevin's voice brought tears to Neil's eyes. Ryan drew in a sharp breath and held his head upright, forcing himself to retain his composure despite the crushing feeling of guilt pressing down on him. They thought back to the way they'd lost Kevin in the first place: running away from the ghoul without stopping to look back, thinking only of preserving their own lives, not realizing Kevin wasn't with them until they'd made it halfway down the block away from the manor, and by then it was too late. If they had stopped and looked back then, and seen that they were inadvertently leaving their friend behind, would they have run back to save him? Well, probably not. That ghoul was pretty scary. But they had another chance to save him now, and… well, they'd be a couple of real jerks if they left him behind again, wouldn't they?

They exchanged a glance, and the agreement passed unspoken. So maybe we won't get paid by the studio this week, Neil thought. So what? It'll be worth it as long as we've got Kevin.

"Of course we're taking you with us," Ryan said, and this time he meant it. He turned to address Kevin as he made this declaration, and Neil concurrently turned to face him as well, no longer ashamed to look him in the weird transparent eyeless face. "We came all this way to get you, didn't we?"

But as soon as they laid eyes on Kevin, a magnetic force took hold of him and yanked him backward. He yelped in surprise and tried to tug himself free, but was powerless to resist the supernatural pull. That was the very important thing they had forgotten--the reason for Orpheus's mythological failure. You weren't supposed to stop and look back at the person you were taking out of the underworld.

Realizing what was happening, Neil sprung into quick-thinking mode. "Ryan, hand me the video camera!"

"Alright, but what are you going to--?"

Neil answered that question before Ryan could finish asking it. In a fluid, decisive motion, Neil reached into the camera and pulled out the long roll of film from within. The film was instantly ruined upon exposure to the ashen air, but that was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He hastily tied the film reel into a makeshift lasso and swung it forward with all his might. Kevin just barely managed to grab ahold of it.

But the forces of the underworld wouldn't loosen their hold on Kevin that easily. He continued to be pulled backward, and holding onto the film reel lasso caused Neil to get pulled along with him. Just before the force either dragged him away or forced him to let go of the film strip, Ryan grabbed Neil around the waist. Steadier on his feet now with his friend holding him in place, Neil began reeling Kevin back towards them.

With their combined efforts, the three of them managed to break free from the pull of the underworld. As soon as Neil had pulled Kevin in close enough that it looked like they'd be able to make it, Ryan released his grip on Neil and darted through the portal. A moment later, Neil slipped through it himself…

And then Kevin stumbled through, just milliseconds before the portal closed. In a reality-defying ripple, his flesh resolidified, ghastly blue-gray transforming into skin flushed with exertion, short messy dark hair, and the slightly rumpled clothes he'd been wearing when he died. He gasped, filling up his newly reformed lungs with fresh air.

Then his legs buckled with exhaustion after such an ordeal and he fell forward. Neil and Ryan were there to catch him before he hit the ground. Kevin sobbed at the sensation of their hands grabbing hold of him--no more phasing; he could feel them, solid and tangible. And they could feel him in just the same way. Driven by the sheer ecstasy of the moment, he lifted them off the ground--prompting a yelp of surprise from Neil--and swung them around in a clumsy circle before setting them back down.

"Oh, man," Kevin half-laughed, half-cried. "I missed you guys so much."

"Aw, gee, we missed you too," Neil replied, patting Kevin on the shoulder.

"Say, you won't be needing that urn anymore, will you?" Ryan asked. "Can I keep it?"

"Of course you can. In fact, I'll throw in an extra one, on the house."

With that declaration, he clutched his friends close to his chest and made a mental vow to never die again.

*

"So, how are the new eyes holding up?"

Kevin blinked and experimentally rolled his eyes up and down and from side to side. His vision was about as good as he remembered, and they were staying in their sockets securely, so…

"Pretty good," he said. "Thanks again, Ryan."

"Oh, it's no trouble. I'm just glad I was finally able to put some of the eyeballs I've been collecting to good use."

Neil wandered in just then, holding up a blank check. "Well, we didn't get paid by the studio," he announced with a sigh of resignation. He flipped the check over to show them the stern note scribbled on the back. "In fact, they're saying we'll rue the day we dared to defy their orders."

It was two days after their underworld rescue mission, and aside from the aforementioned threat from the studio, everything was going great. It was safe to say that the status quo had been effectively restored, and although the lack of payment was a drag, neither Neil or Ryan regretted their decision, at least not enough to go back on it. Having Kevin with them was worth more than one week's salary. And now that they were a trio again, they'd be able to make more movies in the future, unfettered by grief.

"Let me see that." Kevin walked over and took the paper out of Neil's hands. After giving the note a cursory glance, he crumpled it up with a dismissive scoff and tossed it over his shoulder. "Ah, who needs them?" he said, voicing what the others had just been thinking. "As long as we've got each other, we'll be fine."

And it was true: going forward, they all made more of a conscious effort to look out for each other, and through this newfound devotion, they persevered. After all, mortals were only allowed one free trip to the underworld. It was a good thing they didn't waste it.

[stray-tori]

An Innocent Sin & the good gay flashback ft. my descent into madness

I wasn’t sure if I should post this but I mostly want it archived so here we go. This is from like,, September?

So. “An Innocent Sin” is a dumpster fire unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I don’t remember why I decided to read it. maybe I was crazy. Either way... I read it. It soon started to touch upon (very very outlandish) sexual abuse which I thought was interesting. (the angst, not so much some of the wack circumstances surrounding it)

ANYWAY. at some point... we have a flashback. And not just that. It has a gay character.

And it turns rly gay. which mind you, is still in a het smut manwha (that has a “gay” side couple, but still!)

And it destroyed me.

For those who want to read it because I genuinely think the flashback is a decent bit, it’s all the bonus chapters between chapter 77 and 78 I think. There’s a part before that too, but idk where exactly anymore. (It’s on lezhin! or your platform of choosing)

I don’t THINK you’ll need any other knowledge to get the flashback bit? but it’s been a while.

Below the cut (rip mobile users), you can read all of my amazing reactions (all of these were text messages, for context - but I took most of the replies and convos about other things out). Post is also tagged as long post. :))

(i’m serious, this is fucking long)

__________

Here I am. Liking the gay flashback character. Feck. Main dude is still straight but idk it's cute pff

This is a mess. The girl white hair likes, likes black hair, maybe, but thinks white hair is attractive

What just happened is sth I'd like to know too pff He's so cute tho omg. Watch me melt Can we stay in this flashback before everything got perverted af and before white hair gets assaulted all the time I would send an eyebrow emote if I could Context: he's asking he says it again

Ik it's not mutual but loookkk he's so sweet. He's kinda rude in present time, can't we stay in this flashback forever

I never asked for gay, never expected gay but I got gay

This story is trash why am I still reading it shdhhd

He caught his mom cheating. And now she's forcing him to watch??? What is thissss Well adoptive mom But still sudhdidu what Bitch how dare YOU exist

Save my babyyyy

Yay sister that's not yet a rapist to the rescueee

This flashback is actually just nicer in every way let's just stay here This is a super long flashback btw Idek anymore what triggered it

Okay I think I'm gonna make the sensible decision and let this dumpster fire rest and just go sleep

It was very wild. I kinda wanna see white hair get therapy but it has 90 chapters and I'm at like 30... So I'm very concerned this is gonna be very dragged out. Idek if it's even finished ahahsududi - but I do kinda wanna see where it goes and see more cute Noah (white hair) so. Here we are.

yeahhh like i was down for the sexual abuse angst but then the mother killed the adoptive son's mother bc the dad had a thing for her?? and it was someone a person studying with white hair knew and so he's investigating and I'm like how did this turn into a crime organisation kind of plot

hhhhhhh i... i appreciate these horny things also tackling abuse but it always kind of gives me weird vibes to have both, especially when its very horny. And when people are horny to people who've been abused. Idk but I'd assume... you might try NOT to tie them up if they're frequently bondaged during their assaults. I'm just.... disjdksdj hello?? am i weird?? why are they fine with it???

also this manwha is so wild, theres this murder mystery investigation thing and then theres just a couple doing honry stuff sprinkled in between and i'm like OKAY

they rescued a guy in their basement and he's understandably very traumatized and they're trying to question him cut to our main couple trying bondage which i still dont understand bECAUSE HE'S A RAPE VICITM WHY ARE YOU OKAY WITH THIS the ones questioning arent the main couple of course but idshkjds

like im glad he's somehow okay with all this horny stuff despite his trauma and im glad he can be happy and have a nice relationship but DO WE NEED THIS MUCH OF IT he's very cute tho

i like that even when i try other stuff lezhin recommends me it still has large amount of gay in it

[mei: i mean... that's pretty great, if you ask me]

I mean I agree, I'm enjoying the gay eheheh these tonal whiplashes there's not even that much white space between the panels fhjd nvm it just turned horny goddamn it can there be 1 chapter without fucking? okay, there were the flashbacks

WE ARE BACK IN FLASHBACKS but im not getting the gay relationship, sad

OH WAIT AM I GETTING GAY COMFORT bc thats very good too

OH NNOOO this turned sad very quickly

I'M SORRY IM SPAMMING BUT THIS IS JUST ANGSTY

I'M :((((

different species confirmed

I rly like them :((( I like the current girl too but it's just..... very horny with her. the flashbacks are nice [current tori edit: she’s very unloyal idk why i said I liked her] im weird HHHHH RIPPP 

someone help him he looks so saddddd

not sure if thats the most healthy relationship but I'LL TAKE IT

AWWW black hair's mom cooks mild food for them bc Noah can't eat spicy food :((( im soft

PFFF

I LOVE THE FLASHBACKS :(((

awww

i feel like theyve done much more bonding than noah's current relationship. I mean yes I think its cute when she comforts him, too, but they rarely do anything besides be horny together

OH OH THEY'RE KISSING

best buildup, honestly

the position is hornier than I'd like later here goes hope it stays cute

D-did someone just respect the word "stop"??? I am amazed

i think you might uh. have some trauma stuff too so yknow

Dohye is a little dramatic in his reassurance but it's all rly cute so I'm :(( I like them a lot pls stay like this getting invested in flashbacks is always like: ik it wont stay but pls stay like this

hELP

chapters ending in "i wanna touch him" is never good. I'm scared. Oh okay he didnt do anything. PHEW. He's already better than the girl, can't they just end up together lmao

[Noah was jealous]

w-why do you look so evil dohye haukdhjs

oh. oh no. the horny is starting. pls dont... just be cute forever

DOHYE NO YOU WERE SO DECENT WHY ARE YOU LYING ABOUT KOREAN TRADITIONS TO GET HIM TO DO STUFF HORNY STUFF TOO NO PLS STOP I JUST- WHEEE TvT the manwha is actually less visually horny in the flashbacks but im not sure if its bc its BL which isnt rly the genre of the manwha or if its bc they're still kids basically, which... I'd respect the latter, tho I'd prefer it to be like this constantly haha

okay. he's not respecting stop anymore, but it's also more of embarrassed nature more than "no i dont want this stop" so maybe i can forgive it. Still losing points, but he hugged him and it was sweet so HHHHHHHHHHH NOT SURE HOW I SHOULD JUDGE THIS SITUATION

They [Noah’s family] forbid him to visit his friends house I AM DEVASTATED

understandable they're a rapist, a fucked up murderer mother and a father with a thing for younger women so

tho he dont know any of that but yknow he's so pretty just fucking end me on the spot

hooo

they are boyfriends and ik from the future that his sister is gonna ruin it allll she has those drugs that make visual imaginations feel like they rly happened to the person (dont know if thats real but holy fuck its terrifying) and she's used it before to say that Noah assualted her. and im pretty sure shes gonna use it again bc there was a panel of Noah remembering Dohye being uhhhh intimate with her and thats why Noah began to hate him and im so sad im not ready for it. bc he's denied it in the future and i honestly couldnt see it happening even before that or she drugged Dohye, i guess thats a possibility too

[current tori: oh girl, it’s neither and it’s wack]

which if, btich you gonna die even more enough rambling, more reading. this makes me so sad but also spicy

on the manwha note, he thinks Noah doesnt like his family bc he's adopted and doesnt feel comfy which....... fair enough i suppose. and he's so cute im gonna melt just looK AT THIS 

SHUt UP, IM GONNA CRY

OH MY GODDDD he ate like ice and gum and all that, and Dohye assumed it was bc of the more spicy food and got rl worried, but he was just trying to get the smell out of his breath bc he wanted to kiss him ukhsdjs HOW CAN YOU BE SO CUTE HELLLOOOOOOOOO

look at them. LOOK AT mY BABIESSSS

how am i ever gonna care about the main couple again aww he-he wanted to go to the same highschool as him :((( im sad bc i know its not gonna happennnnnn

[mei: also at this point, you're literally never gonna care about them. i don't even know the main couple that well and i honestly don't care about them whatsoever.]

WAIT NO they're actually going to the same school awww ik it wont take long until sister fucks it up for them but for now theyre so sweet ohmygodddd

cant he move in with them, fuck his family honestly

dohye he's not a fucking pokemon iukhsdjs

oh. its. turning horny i am displeased with this development but i guess its natural for their relationship however COULD YOU DO IT AT HOME AND NOT IN SOME DUSTY SMALL ROOM how do ppl do this i like that the comments too are just "... is anyone still carng about the other girl?" sakjds

this is the best 3 panels in existence.

h-he just took your hand dohye idk what to tell you

[mei: "you blush at everything i do" god if that isn't me, idk what is]

awww its cute dohye is getting bonus points bc he invited Noah over while his mom wasnt home, they watched some sexual stuff and he DIDNT try to do anything what is this where can i get more of this

"well im not okay"

MY BABIESSSS 

they still didnt do much btw they're just kinda exploring and its honestly nice TvT I dont want this to ever endddd

[Dohye sees Noah’s sister and approaches her] N O

N OOOO

this is the starttttt of something.......... TERRIBLEEEE 

:((( babyyyy

I AM EMO

Noah was drugged im sure. hes having dreams and waking up in pain and the sister is asking doyhe over I DONT LIKE THISSSSSSS OH HE DECLINED

OKAY OKAY he saw him with her again but it was from behind and im not sure if it rly happened??? oh no this is terrible. Noah :((( poor child

i am so emo about this

[reminder he’s been abused TvT]

[the sister: “Don’t you want to know why?”]

i will. murder someone he called to ask her to delete his number btw what is this manwha but this is just gonna make it that more tragic when whatever happens that breaks them apart :(((

he's such a good bf but Noah just wont TELL him his side I'M SO SAD

I AM SO SAD

No

NO

It cant end im actually tearing up nooo you were so cuteeee and happpyyy

[*sister is telling dohye to come to the gym hall*]

what else is she gonna do she already teared [current tori: ahem... T O R E] them apart THAT'S NOT DOYhE. THATS NEVER HIM. OH MY GOD. is it a look alike??? damn, she's dedicated to just. ruining it, huh

I’M

I’M SO SAD

now he's switching SCHOOLS NO NOOOOO how will i ever find happiness againnnn NO they're misunderstanding further they're not talking properly i mean i get it but oh my god

I'M :((( 

NO NOOOO pls make up in the future at least omg he tried to clear it up tooo ahhh i dont even have hopes for them getting back together but i just i want them to clear it up im crying first manwha to make me cry and it's this dumpster fire ahaha maybe a little too bc it kinda hit a little close to home i guess but goddamnn ittttt they were so cuteee and so happy and AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

OH NO. Noahs getting drugged and assaulted. And he's realizing it happened before, he just forgot. I am. so sad it's not horny drawn either which i appreciate but MY HEART NO

N O DONT YOU DARE MAKE THIS WORSE

Im. gonna cry more 

Doyhe kept an eye on him im so emo :(( but he thought he was doing well enough and gave up.... Im im so sad no i want you to make up and get back together its all just a stupid........... MEHHHH will i ever find sth like this flashback again

[mei: p-probably not, no]

i am so devasted i dont even wanna go back to the main couple just fucking. i want this relationship back :(((( but i guess the investigation might end up somewhere so hhh hhhhhhhhhhhhhh the baker manwha had a similar flashback feeling so. i just gotta find more of that haha

BUT THIS WAS SO SAD??? im so emo

[Dohye got kidnapped // the flashback commentary stops here but I think my descend into madness is pretty funny too]

OH YEAH THAT HAPPENED. THE FLASHBACK WAS SO LONG I FORGOT. NOOOO SAVE HIM. JESUS CHRIST PLS JUST ONE GOOD THING

its. actually rly smart to have another, more focused on them flashback, before the arc where he gets kidnapped by the rapist murder household so. good job. from a meta perspective but also NO but also. maybe theres hope for them making up at least after all :(((

[main couple kissing] this is. very weird now. but im glad he has someone, he deserves it but dohyeeeee

and switching to sex, YET AGAIN now i wanna see this EVEN LESS THAN I DID BEFOREEEE it's even.... a threesome now with one of the other characters why are you like this why can't you be. like in the flashback i am so upset HAHHHHH WHEEEZEEEE

I am just stop fucking jesus christ PLEASE I DONT WANNA SEE IT ANYMOREEEEE

im just stop the horny pls just tell me who that new guy is and why doyhe likes him so much

[mei: this manwha is a fucking mess but at least we got your lovely commentary out of it]

dhsuksj thanks i feel honored at least i got cute BL out of it before everything went [back] to shit

[mei: THAT TOO]

[...]

tbh im getting kinda mad about doyhe... i dont... feel like he'd just fall instantly for a guy who looks like Noah... but eh not my character

i just want closure for dohye at this point, fuck everything else ... not literally pls theres already too much of that

pls get it together for like 1 chapter is the investigation even still happening i am so confused save dohye plEASE wait what i have less than 10 episodes left Dont tell me this shit isnt even wrapped up yet

[Dohye is having a breakdown over the Noah double not coming to see him anymore]

yeah i this... doesnt feel like Dohye... at all... Even when Noah was rejecting him he was just kind of... taking it with some humor and maybe he was a little desperate and risky sometimes but... oh well... i do want him to get better but... im having a hard time believeing this development??? he never seemed overly anxious or anything. but who knows what else they did to him. Sister can still go fuck off tho

[...]

i mean. i liked the flashbacks a lot honestly??? it stayed simple and focused on the dynamics and less trying to balance smut with murder plots

[dm partner: NO THAT'S WHAT I MEAN LIKE CLEARLY THE AUTHOR CAN MAKE A GOOD STORY SO I'M JUST... CONFUSED AS TO WHY THEY DIDN'T STICK WITH SOME SOFT, FLUFFY BL ROMANCE MANWHA AND DECIDED TO MAKE WHATEVER THIS IS INSTEAD ]

okay i dont care bc dohye is currently getting assaulted nobody asked for this why i just. this is terrible. he was... so sweet. he doesnt deserve this. nobody does of course but jesus christ pls someone save him at least its not horny visually, one saving grace

ah... the assult is back to being depicted horny-ly thank you for nothing

[... removed some general confusion about the plot]

YES. SOME SHIP FOOD.

i am. suffering i mean i cant stop but GOD

okay so apparantly. the sister. has just an arsenal of people who look like other people Dohye, then Noah... and even Noah's GF??? this is ridiculous??

one good message 

why 

did you feel the need to add that [actual tired rage]

im gonna die this manwha is gonna kill me im laughing but im suffering oh hes arrested great and thats the end and the last update was in january of this year

why AS IN NOAH IS ARRESTED nobody who actually did anything is arrested What is this why is this AHHH I at least wanted the complete-ness of finishing this but now I'M JUST SUFFERING

[ mei: I MEAN TO BE FAIR I'D BE SUFFERING TOO BC JUST... WHAT THE FUCK I HAVE?? MANY QUESTIONS?? AND MANY CONCERNS BC THIS MANWHA IS JUST... AN EXPERIENCE ]

its an experience allright WELL

_______________

yup that’s it.

in my head, in a twist of events Dohye and Noah make up and are actual endgame. Something like that must exist out there but I won’t ask because it’d destroy the surprise and ruin the point.

That’s it.

Have a nice day.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Heyy if you're free, can you continue the supervillain whumpee and hero caretaker prompt? Thanks and I love your writing <3

Yes I can! Thank you for the ask!

Dear Diary Part 2

Part 1

@teheranb

Warnings: stockholm syndrome, delirium, fever, pills (tylenol), alcohol mention, tobacco mention, being insensitive to another's trauma

But mostly just fluff and a hero who can't admit her feelings...

*not edited*

~

So, that was only the first day! The first day and I had to go through all that. Supervillain... he seemed to be attached to Villain in all the worse possible ways. I'm thinking a bit of stockholm syndrome here. Which, makes sense. Based on the state Supervillain was in when I found him, he must've been caught under her wrath for weeks, if not months.

But, I have to say, nothing from these last two weeks were as nauseatingly shocking as my encounter with the villain herself...

"Good, so you found him," Villain commented as she ate her soup. Hero watched her, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, aren't you gonna so something about it?" Hero asked, crossing her arms. She watched Villain slurp down the chicken noddle soup like a pig, broth dripping down her chin.

"Nah. Supervillain was fun to... tease, but now he's bo-ring," Villain chuckled, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "And really just a waste of time."

"He is really sick," Hero said, not amused.

"Okay and? We all get sick."

"Not like this."

Villain laughed and leaned forward, resting on her elbows. Hero could smell her acrid breath- a sour stench of chicken soup and alcohol, with a twinge of cigarettes.

"Like what darling?" She drawled. "A wee bit traumatized? He'll be fine, just give him some oreos and he'll simmer down."

Hero clenched her teeth. Was Villain really this insensitive?

The answer was, quite frankly, yes.

"What's the matter dear? Cat got your tongue?" Villain pursed her lips, watching Hero with a sneer. "Or do you really care about Supervillain and his worthless hide-"

Hero shot forward, grabbing Villain's neck and shoving her against the wall. Villain made a clicking sound with her tongue and glanced over at the watching civilians gathered around in the restaurant.

"Careful Hero," Villain whispered, her breath brushing against Hero's cheek. "Civilians. You don't want them to get hurt, now do you?"

Hero sighed and let go of Villain who straighten her shirt out and ran a hand through her thin, sunbleached hair.

"Good luck with Supervillain," she said, nodded at a random bystander and sauntered off.

Yeah, that experience rocked me to my core. I had left Supervillain at home, thankfully nothing happened because doing that was stupid. Anyways, after that I headed home and found Supervillain still asleep, of course, but he was in the middle of a nightmare...

Supervillain let out a short scream, thrashing about in his mound of covers and blankets. His pale skin was flushed pink with fever, head moistened and plastered to his forehead. Snot ran out of his nose as tears slipped out through closed eyelids.

Hero walked over with a wet rag and wiped Supervillain's face with it, watching as his eyes fluttered open- half rolled still, and dull- before they slipped closed again. He breathed heavily, seemingly unable to catch his breath.

"Villain," he cried. "Villain please. Please help me. I hurt, I hurt, I hurt, I hurt, I hurt... hot and... mmm nngh. V-villain."

"Shh dear." Hero cradled his head close to her, rubbing her thumb against his warm skin. "I'm here, calm down."

Supervillain nested deep into her, resting his face against her collarbone area. He sobbed silently, gripping at her with strange ferocity.

"I need Villain," he mumbled. "Need her..."

"I know, I know." Hero bit her lip, planting a kiss on his molten head. "I know."

Soon, Supervillain's wails ceased and Hero was left in silence with a sleeping Supervillain. It seemed a crime to move, so she laid there, still, and allowed the sick man to sleep cuddled up to her.

After a good ten minutes, Hero felt herseld dozing off. She adjusted herself into a more comfortable position, wrapped her arms around Supervillain and fell asleep as well.

My dearest diary, before you say anything, I am truly not in love with Supervillain whatsoever. This is a platonic relationship, nothing else.

Hero unconsciously, in her sleep, pulled Supervillain closer. She hugged him tight and he melted into her, content.

I'm not lying, I swear.

Hero awoke, groaning as she stretched. Still half asleep, she proceeded to pull a blanket over her and fall asleep once again, but she stopped when she saw Supervillain limply lying there.

She sighed and rested her palm on Supervillain's forehead. He leaned into her touch, murmuring something incoherently. His fever was still very high. Too high for Hero's liking.

"Wake up," Hero said, tapping Supervillain's cheek. He whimpered as his eyes fluttered open, staring at his caretaker with a dazed expression.

"Hi there," Hero cooed. She helped his barely conscious self to a sitting position and held a glass of water to his lips. He parted them and allowed Hero to pour some water into his mouth.

Then he swallowed, eyes dulling in exhaustion.

"You need this," Hero placed a couple Tylenol tablets on Supervillain's tongue. Then, she gave him some water. He swallowed weakly, head swaying and falling backwards, unable to support its own weight.

"Okay buddy, go back to sleep," Hero gently pushed him back to a reclining position and filled the creases and shooks of his neck and shoulder with ice packs and frozen vegetables.

Soon, he was asleep again, face neutral and placid in sleep. Hero smiled and brushed the hair out of his face, fingers lingering a bit too long.

She pulled away and stood up, walking towards her desk. Might as well watch some YouTube...

But when Supervillain whimpered in his fever induced dream, Hero ran back over and comforted him.

Then, like last time, she too fell asleep again.

You see Diary, I don't love him. He needed comfort that was all, nothing to it. I honestly don't love him. Hold on a minute, Supervillain needs help brushing his teeth. I'll be right back...

[dangan-happy]

Password: I want Mikan to have wheelies to escape her feelies (yeah, me too, Mikan)

To: Izuru, Celeste, and/or Mikan [TW for brief mention of d//ath due to c//ncer]

Hey there. It's me again, RiRi, and I'm back with more crap in my life. Hopefully, this will be more organized compared to my last one.

So this past weekend was okay (better than last week, at least), but today's already been a cruddy day (which most likely means that this week will be terrible as well). Considering my insomina is still terrible and my sleep schedule is nonexistent, I fell asleep at some point during my first two morning Zoom calls. Oh, but get this. My dumb ass woke up sometime after my second Zoom call officially ended, looked at the time, and thought for some flipping reason: "Oh, I'm done with my morning Zoom calls. I can sleep in now!" Yeah, plot twist: My dumb ass forgot about my third and final morning Zoom call, and instead of attending it, I straight-up fell asleep and missed the whole thing. So go me, I guess.

I saw my counselor earlier today, and well, I got two things revolving around that. For one, in the near future, I'll have to go from seeing her twice a week to just once a week (she explained why, but I don't wanna bore you guys with the details). And for two, we further talked from our last appointment, and from scrolling through the DSM-5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th Edition), she came to the concluding diagnosis that I have Bipolar 1 Disorder (which I acknowledge and accept, as lots of certain things/experiences make sense now). And now, she wants me to try and step up by scheduling an appointment with my doctor for a mental health consult. She made it sound so easy, but my social anxiety and immense hopelessness is already making me decide to just... not make the call and forever sulk and rot away. Or to just hopelessly rely on my mom, who's too busy to really do much for herself anyway.

To (hopefully) wrap this up, my excuse of an uncle was supposed to leave either yesterday or today. Well, after connecting the dots, I realized why he's still here. A relative of mine passed away from cancer on Saturday night. I wasn't even close to her, we didn't love each other, so while the sympathy+empathy is there, I'm not emotionally affected whatsoever. But now, my excuse of an uncle is staying longer in order to attend the funeral, and now, I'll have to waste my time that could be spent on more important matters (aka school) at some funeral instead, which is slowly but surely building up anger within me.

Kind of like last time, not big on advice. I mean, if you have some crucial advice, then share away. But for the most part, I just want some comfort/reassurance, encouragment, and a hug or two. Sorry for another long ask from me, and I hope you guys have a good day.

Hello again RiRi, don't worry about being organized, your last ask was just fine, but I do appreciate the extra attention to detail. You're a lovely person aren't you? I am glad to hear that your weekend was better, although I am sorry to hear that things are less than wonderful for you now. Let's see what we can do about that, shall we? First of all, do try to keep a positive mindset. Just because one day wasn't the best doesn't mean that the rest of the week will be. Sometimes having that outlook actually can make things worse, just something to keep in mind. Oh dear, while sleep is good, that doesn't seem to be the best time for it. I would maybe talk to a medical professional, such as a sleep specialist to potentially help with that. Additionally, I would try to set alarms for each of your classes, so even if you do fall asleep for one, you'll wake up in time for the next one. Maybe you could also find a way to keep yourself awake during class, but just make sure it's a safe method, and it doesn't harm you.

Talking to a counselor is a wonderful thing my dear! Even if you have a lot of emotions surrounding the events, it ultimately is a good thing, and this will be very beneficial in the long run. I am pleased you have a diagnosis, as this can lead to more specialized treatment that will help you more than regular treatment. Yes, I do agree. Stepping up to talk to your doctor is the best next step. I'm sorry you're feeling anxious. If I'm being honest, you don't have anxious about if we're rationalizing things. By all means, don't rot away. You deserve so much better than that. If I could, I'd make the call for you to ease that anxiety. It does sound like this is something you'll have to do yourself, since you mother is so busy. I know you feel hopeless, but you're easily capable of this my dear. If you're confident enough to talk to me, you can talk to your doctor too. I count this as necessary advice, so do listen up. Perhaps write down what you want to say before hand, so you can just read that during the call instead of having to think of it as you're calling.

It sounds like you're not to fond of your uncle, so I am sorry to hear that. I am sorry for your loss, and while this may sound strange, I'm pleased to hear that you're not especially impacted by this emotionally. It doesn't make you especially cold or inhuman, you said you weren't close, so you're reacting perfectly naturally. I'm sorry your time is being impacted by this. I would try to alter your schedule until the funeral is over so you can maximize your work time so you can get as much done as you can. As hard as it is, try not to let the anger grow too much. Try to vent it, just get it out so it doesn't explode out of you. Yes, this is terribly inconvenient to you, but in reality, attending this funeral is the least you can do. This is a sort of closure, and even if you aren't especially impacted, it is a closure to this person's life, and as soon as it is over, your life can continue as normal.

Yes, all the advice I said here is crucial in my opinion, but I did try my best to keep it minimal. You most certainly have a lot on your plate, but I have complete confidence that you will do absolutely fine with everything. You're an intelligent, strong person, even if you don't feel like it. You have my full confidence that you can step up and handle any of this that's coming your way. Everything will be alright my dear. The funeral will be over before you know it. You will ultimately get help for the other things that plague you, and while it may take some time, you will survive this and come out stronger and better than ever. No need to apologize for the long ask. As you can see my answer is quite long as well. I'd be happy to give you two hugs! You can have all the hugs you want my dear, just ask. I hope you have a wonderful day too my dear, and an even more wonderful life.