#one of my leg muscles got torn (i think) 3 weeks ago and the pain is just starting to get worse

[caramelmochacrow]

oh yeah. im not going to the gym on the weekend bc im going to the doctors (maaaybe) to check if i actually tore a leg muscle and my fucked up jaw of one year <- has many issues w his bodyyyy

[kominum]

semoto (corpse x fem!reader)

4 times you think tuxedo mask!corpse could be yours + 1 time you learn to stop feeding your own delusions 

pt. 1 + background info can be found here! please read for context. 

basic rundown of classic!sailor moon (anime) lore ‘creatively’ used in this two-part:

sailor moon and tuxedo mask are star-crossed lovers/soulmates that faced tragedy in a previous life. 

sailor mars (aka you/reader) had a crush on tuxedo mask’s non-hero persona, darien/mamoru, for a while 

sailor moon is the moon princess and tuxedo mask is the earth prince.  

sailor moon’s non-hero persona, usagi/serena, bickered a lot with darien/mamoru.

fem!reader // tw: death mentions, bodily injury, unrequited love to the very end, some unresolved tension. 

1. “Whaddup, baby?” 

Without much reason, you and Corpse trade off calling each other whenever a new monster is defeated. You’re figuring out all of this as much as he is, but he doesn’t have much guidance besides some supernatural force within him. He’s not taking instructions from a black cat and white cat like you and the other girls are who can help fill you in on the gaps -- all he knows is that he’s pivotal to maintaining Earth’s existence, and he’s not exactly thrilled about it.

But the calls are never about the fights, never about your secret identities. In fact, you’d be willing to bet half your grocery funds that he still hasn’t made the connection between you and your Sailor Mars persona and part of you wants to keep it that way. Sometimes you’re mentally exhausted and just want to forget about the events for the day or night, which is why you usually end up calling him soon after everyone disperses or vice versa. It’s almost instinctual these days, and you wonder how long it’ll be before you accidentally crack. 

Right now, the rule of thumb seems to be, “Never trust new flashy shops that open with no warning and have too-good-to-be-true grand opening offers.” This time, some luxurious salon opened up by a famous local hairdresser had been the said attraction. All of you weren’t ignorant enough to believe the sham, but the star of the show had taken the chance to say, “Let’s go scope it out!” when really, she wanted that free haircut. You had called her out on it, but she argued that if anything happened, then perfect, you all could take care of it right then and there. Needless to say, you do not want to be attacked by a monstrous version of Edward Scissorhands ever again. Corpse had made a dark, humorous entrance, a style he’s really adapted to because he knows it pisses Sailor Moon off, 

About an hour later, you’re home and bandaging up some cuts and rubbing salve on bruises, phone on speaker and dial tone blaring through the bathroom. You’re addressing the scrape on your knee when he picks up, a low drawl of, “Whaddup, baby?” comes through and your heart stutters.

The girls call you a number of terms of endearment: sweetie, honey, love, dear, babe, queen, but the last person to address you as ‘baby’ with any amount of affection was your ex-boyfriend.

You scoff to hide how flustered you actually are, quietly hissing as you attempt to put some Neosporin on the scrape and catch onto some stray skin. “Are you drunk?” You ask jokingly, knowing full well he wasn’t. 

“Drunk? Nah. Tired? Yeah. But that’s always.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s old news. But uh, what’s up? Been a while since we last talked.”

“We talked like...three days ago. You called me, remember?”

“Feels like forever. I like talking to you.” 

You wonder if it’s irony or plain, cruel fate that this man will probably be the death of you.

2. “Don’t lay a fucking hand on her.”

It’d been a bad day overall. Lack of sleep compiled on by a growing pile of assignments in addition to having to get your tires checked out for an air leak because your car said, “Not today, honey,” -- everything came together in torrential hurricane and the last thing you needed was to be caught fighting another force of evil.

You’re so tired.

Sailor Moon seems to have all the energy in the world as she dodges attacks left and right, but your muscles are screaming in agony. You’re constantly hunched over and panting, but looking for the right openings to weaken the monster. Luckily, the creature has its back towards you when it dashes over to Venus and you muster everything you have to summon a bow and arrow made of fire, pulling back and making sure your arms don’t quiver. 

But at the last second, your lack of oxygen gets the best of you and your flame sniper barely manages to graze the monster’s side and narrowly avoid Jupiter. It’s enough to cause a distraction, but the anger in its glare as it’s directed at you elicits surrender in your heart. There’s nothing left in your bones to help you run or hide, and your knees buckle painfully onto the concrete. Everything else hurts so bad that you’re not bothered by the sediments digging through your skin. Venus is running towards you but she’s not quick enough, and you feel your eyes begin to slip. If this is what death feels like, then so be it. You hope that the girls’ mourning will be short, that they can still complete the ultimate mission, and--

“Don’t lay a fucking hand on her,” an angered, frustrated baritone spits out and you’re torn between laughing or crying. In a separate romantic context, you’d like the idea of wholeheartedly leaving your life in his hands. But in this reality when either of you could die at any moment and the world be consumed in darkness, it’s something you would never wish upon anyone. It’s a different situation than your bonds with the girls. 

The pain is enough to send you in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes. But strong, warm arms sit you up, though they’re slightly trembling and keeping you awake. “Hey, you okay? What happened to you? You’re stronger than this.” 

“G-great way of telling me, fuckthathurts, that I was...shit today,” you joke, but hiss when you try to move your legs and the deep scrapes scream in agony. 

“Take it easy, ‘kay? Or your princess is gonna have my head--”

“Thanks man, but we got it from here,” said princess interjects, hoisting you up with the help of the other girls. “You can go.”

“Speak of the devil,” Corpse chuckles and helps make the transfer less painful, a lot less awkward jostling around. “Look, I saved her--”

“And I said thank you. We’ll see you around,” your stubborn friend dismisses. 

“You’re welcome, baby.”

“Not your baby, piss off!”

3. “I’m always gonna be there for you, no matter what.”

It’s soft yet sonorous, deep yet light. Twilight hours are cast high above you both, separated by walls and buildings connected over wires and unseen forces. Technology is the sharpest, double-edged sword you’ve seen and used on this planet, because Corpse has never felt so close yet so far than in this moment. Your mind deludes you further by indulging in believing he’s right there next to you, strong arms holding you much like he did when you were on the brink of unconsciousness just two weeks ago.

Wishing, hoping, wanting. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.

The one year anniversary of your ex-lover’s death looms over you on another sleepless, caffeine-fueled night. It’s no surprise when his custom ringtone chimes softly throughout your room during these graveyard hours, but it certainly raises your eyebrows when after a minute or two, he asks tentatively, “Are you gonna go visit him?”

There’s no question as to who or where “him” is. You haven’t been since the funeral, if you’re honest, swept up by work, classes, and your new side job. But Corpse doesn’t know that, and you know it’d be the right thing to do. Maybe it’d help settle the storm of anxiety (or guilt?) that swirls in your gut on a daily basis. 

“I think so,” you reply quietly after a moment of silent contemplation, already thinking ahead to what the drive might be like. “He deserves better.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Charming, compassionate, thoughtful, absolutely too good for this world -- the three-letter affirmation nearly slips off your tongue without a second thought. You can’t risk him seeing you, putting two and two together, and potentially forever losing him to his long-lost princess. Selfish delusion creeps through your veins and you fight back the shiver of guilt that runs down your spine. 

“I think I’ll be okay. Might be a visit made best alone, but I really appreciate you even asking.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. You know I’m always gonna be there for you, no matter what. Right?”

Warmth. Strength. Oblivion. 

“I know. Thank you.”

4. “I don’t have anyone else but you.”

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because we can’t sleep and have nothing better to do.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you chuckle into your phone, free hand swirling a pot of instant ramen. “I have better things to do at 3 in the morning than watch The Poltergeist with you.” 

“Then go fucking do it,” Corpse laughs teasingly. 

“And leave you high and dry? I don’t have the heart.”

“I mean, you really don’t have to--”

“Seriously, I was awake anyways. Just giving you shit.”

“One of these days, you’re gonna fucking regret it.”

Ramen done and lamp on, you snuggle beneath your blanket and start the traditional countdown to pressing ‘play’ on the movie. Neither of you really had the technology to screen share on this Discord call (your laptop is almost on its last leg and your apartment WiFi can be spotty at times), so it seemed better this way. 

The next roughly 2 hours are filled with laughter, small jump scare yelps, and quiet yelling at the ignorance and twisted logic of horror movie characters. But towards the end of the movie (and arguably the climax), your eyelids start to droop, body succumbing to the warmth of your bed. The screaming and cheesy, orchestrated music are all background noise as your breathing evens out, shifting in and out of consciousness. Ending credits roll on screen before you know it, and the only think that rips you awake is Corpse’s gentle calling of your name. 

“Sorry, fell asleep,” you murmur tiredly and squint at your screen, languidly closing out the window and letting the Discord window take precedence. “Tells you how riveting I found this movie.”

“Should’ve just let you sleep, my bad,” he chuckles. “Thanks for staying up with me.” 

“Yeah of course -- I wanted to, just got a little sleepy. Wanna watch another one?”

“ ‘m actually gonna try to sleep. Don’t wanna bother you too much. You got work tomorrow?”

“Not ‘til noon so it’s okay. You sure?” 

“Yeah...yeah. I’ve only had like...3 hours of sleep lately. Fucking awful.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You do enough by just letting me call at the fucking crack of dawn, seriously.”

“I’m your only option, let’s be real,” and your voice is a mix of fatigue, humor, and some bitter sardonicism. There’s no malice intended, and you really hope it’s conveyed accurately. 

“...I don’t have anyone else but you,” he all but murmurs. Your heart clenches painfully, anxiety and fear and love surging through your lungs. Those words don’t hold the connotation you desperately wish for, but what matters most is that he knows he’s not alone and you’re not the only one he’s got. You verbalize as such and he only hums back in a façade of agreement before wishing you a good night. 

And sometimes, while you do know that your girls have your back and that you love them to death and would take a bullet for them any day, there are nights where you really do feel the same.

That you have no one else but Corpse. 

5. “He was never yours.”

There’s nothing you hate more than psychological monsters. You’d probably take physical pain over mind games any day because at least, it’d heal faster to some degree, or there would be a more surefire way of minimizing symptoms. But sometimes, there are days when the egotistical chess players of hell come to wreck havoc on the world, and you get lost in their trap. It’s annoying, a pain in the ass, and affects you a lot more than it should at times. 

This particular instance makes you want to quit. It makes you, Sailor fucking Mars, guardian of the planet of fire and passion and perseverance, leave all of this behind right here and now. You’ve never hated yourself more for feeling so weak. 

You’re not sure what to call it -- altered dimension, distorted reality -- but all you know is that you and the princess are kept in separate cages hanging from an endless ceiling, labelled as baits for tuxedo mask/Corpse to come. The enemy lets you both stew in the confines of the metal, watching with glee as your partner attempts to cut through the rails with her tiara and ultimately fail. It seems they’ve thought of everything because you’re not their #1 enemy today. Or maybe you are. You’re not sure anymore, even as they launch into villainous speech. 

“Nothing brings me more joy than watching you lose all your energy to fight, both physically and mentally. I’ve seen all your dreams and wishes. Nothing’s more fickle and double-edged than love, no? We shall see who the prince really belongs to.”

Mention of the prince has you snapping your head to meet the enemy’s eyes, slowing squinting as they catch yours and begin cackling like your demise is racing at the speed of an oncoming train. Your princess looks confused, but dread is heavy mercury filling your veins because you know, you know, your best held secret is coming to fruition. 

“What the fuck are they talking about?” She hisses across the void. 

“I don’t know,” you lie through your teeth, eyes flicking toward every corner of the cage now to find a way out. This isn’t how you wanted it to happen, much less happen at all. 

“Are they talking about Corpse?”

“Is there any other prince they’re referring to?”

“Do you always have to be a smartass with me?”

“Somebody’s got to,” you allow yourself a slight reprieve of laughter. It’d be dumb to try to set fire to this thing, knowing you’d only burn yourself in the process. Your exorcism tags also have no use and you can hear the clock ticking down in your mind. 

“Think it’s pretty fucking rude to keep a couple of girls in cages, not gonna lie,” a baritone voice cuts through. It sends temporary sparks of relieve down your spine. Perhaps you’ll have a fighting chance to get out of here. 

“Welcome, welcome! I’d like to get straight to the point, but maybe we’ll up the stakes a little bit before you answer my question,” they tease cartoonishly and you want to roll your eyes.

“Is this a fucking test--”

Both you and sailor moon yelp as the cages drop into a miraculously (or not) appearing large body of water, but still hanging just above the surface so you have enough air to breathe. You look out and down to see how deep this pit is, and though it might be some elaborate illusion seemingly defying all laws of physics, you see nothing but descending darkness. You don’t even have to hear the question to know what the enemy is going for, to know that they’re trying to hit you where it hurts the most, and you loathe how cliché and goddamn unfair this whole situation has turned out to be. 

“So, dear prince. Pretend that the fate of the world depends on the princess. Before you are just two girls you know and care for, stuck, captured, and on the brink of drowning. You may only save one. Who would it be?”

It’s fucked up. Corpse seems stunned, perplexed by the question. “What the absolute fuck is this? Just let them go if you had an issue with me.”

“Quite frankly, I have an issue with allof you, so this is only fair. Now, what’s your answer?”

Corpse catches your eyes first. Is it from the water that your eyes seem to be brimming with unshed tears? Is it stubbornness or defeat in the way your hands clench around the cage bars?

And this is why, once again, you hate enemies who strictly play mind games. Confirmation that Corpse would never love you the way you do him, knowledge to the princess that she’s the source of your deepest unhappiness despite the bickering friendship, realization to Corpse that the girl he’s treasured so dearly and maybe unknowingly kept as a bit of a placeholder was doomed to love him -- pain on all of you, lashes and scars on what was once believed to be unbreakable bonds, as soon as the villain explains it all with sick glee. 

“Do I have to give you an answer?”

“If you don’t, I’ll really consider drowning them since I honestly wasn’t before.”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“Ah, just to make things a little more interesting -- I’m aware you and the princess speak regularly outside of all this.”

They what? This was certainly news to you. 

“And?” Corpse asks somewhat defensively. 

Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. Please don’t--

“Say Mars, don’t you enjoy those late night calls with him, too? Though I must say, meeting in a hospital while your ex-boyfriend is having life-altering emergency surgery seems rather morbid in its own respect.”

You don’t have to look at him to know and hear the gears turning in his brain, the villain allowing this brief silence to let everything sink in. There’s a disbelieving whisper of your name, your real name, but he’s cut off from saying anything more. 

“You have 10 seconds.” 

You know the stories. You know the couple’s tragic end in their previous lifetime. You know that as much as the princess denies feeling anything but annoyance towards Corpse, she looks forward to seeing him. There’s a certain softness that he treats her with, different from the platonic affection that he showers you in. You’ve lied to yourself for too long. 

The countdown has no chance to finish when Corpse spits out a name that’s not yours, your eyes squeezing shut to fight back the tears that threaten to flood over. Everything disappears and you land on your butt -- a quick sweep of your surroundings registers two things: Corpse running over to your princess and the villain standing proudly at the chaos they’ve created. It’s instinct that has brings your powers to surface, arms and fingers quickly notching a fiery arrow with pinpoint aim at the imaginary target on their head. “Move!” You yell at the two and they scramble to gather their bearings and avoid your rage. 

They don’t run or cower. The maniacal grin only grows wider and more sinister and you’re this close to screaming expletives. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it, to know that he was never yours?”

It’s the last thing they say before you release the arrow, watching with no remorse as they burn and disintegrate. When the dust disappears and the dimension shifts back to some abandoned building with an exit, you run. 

You run until your lungs burst, until they scream over the aching of your heart, until your costume dissolves and you’re finally buried under the blankets. You turn on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and only allow notifications from a select few important numbers.

And maybe you’ll keep running. Maybe you’ll go off the grid. Maybe you’ll let your voicemail inbox fill up with unheard messages, apologies that you don’t and never will deserve. 

But the love you feel and cherish will never fade. It’ll run alongside you; a bright, burning star, forever bittersweet--

Forever out of reach. 

[thats-how-i-role]

Sea Salt By The Sea Shore

A/N: The title was funnier in my head. Also this technically goes with Day 6 but shhhhhh. I had to do research about SNOWBOARDING. Which I surprisingly knew even less about than I thought I did. For the record, this is a halfpipe.

They put in their headphones, swiftly as to not get Amalthea’s attention as she blabbered into. They tuned into the local news station, where the segment had just switched to sports. And once again, as they have been for weeks since the crash, Jem was the top story.

Regan, the stout news anchor began as a photo of Jem holding their first Olympic gold medal appeared next to him on screen. “Folks, today some news that shook the Olympic world to its core was announced. As twenty four year old Jemon Morale, who is known for being last Winter Olympics Gold Medallist in the halfpipe circuit, has announced the fact they are retiring.”

“Now, if you haven’t been following this story, let’s catch you up.” Regan switched to a different camera angle as a new graphic appeared by his face. One of Jem in their snowboarding gear after they qualified for the Olympics when they were nineteen. “Jemon Morale was America’s underdog in the 20xx Winter Olympics, as they rose to the spotlight as being the first ever openly non-binary Olympic athlete. Quickly, they received support particularly in millennial circles, and became an LGBTQ+ icon for the sports community. Although, nobody was expecting them to get gold on their first try- with a twenty to one Vegas odds- Jem succeeded on the half-pipe. Not only becoming the first non-binary gold medallist, but one of the youngest that the Olympic world has seen in the past few decades.”

Another camera angle, another graphic. This one showing Jem on their knees, crying as they were announced the winner of the gold medal. “Throughout the past two years, Jemon had appeared on multiple talk shows, and different sports magazines. As well as promoting brands anywhere between underarmour, and frosted flakes. They quickly became America’s favourite.”

Jem felt Amalthea, a slender woman with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes, tug one of their headphones out. “Jem, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah totally.” Jem replied, eyes still transfixed on the screen.

“What’d I say then?” Amalthea questioned.

“Yeah totally,” Jem answered, completely not paying attention to her.

As another graphic appeared, one with Jem shaking hands with fans right before the qualifiers started for this year. Jem remembered that day so clearly, and yet it felt like so long ago. Regan continued, “because of their massive success, Jem was the favourite to win all the way up to the Olympics. But at the criticized event of the semi-finals, horror struck the world.”

This time, the camera zoomed in on Regan’s face with no graphic. “The winds were high on the day of the semi-finals, where many experts say that it would’ve been safer had the event organizers post-poned the event until the winds had calmed down. Yet in the moment, the event continued. With Jemon’s points putting them in the lead, the final round was approaching.”

The frame had left Regan, showing the live feed their news reporter had caught on camera on that day. Regan’s continued the story through voice over as he narrated what happened, “As you can see, Jemon lined up and took off into the half pipe smoothly. Achieving their first fourteen hundred degree spin on the first jump.” Jem flipped their snowboard around 3 and a half times, flawlessly besides the dismount. The landing was shaky as the wind pushed them farther into the half pipe. “But as Jemon flew up in the air for their second fourteen hundred, tragedy struck.”

Suddenly, present Jem was flashed back into the memory. When they went up in the air, hearing the cheers from their adoring fans. Succeeding on completing the spins, Jem counted in their head. One, two, three, land.

Land. That’s all they had to do. But they couldn’t.

They felt themselves get pushed through the air, further towards the ledge of the halfpipe. Jem went into panic mode, and even though this only happened in a couple seconds, time slowed for them. They curled into themselves, grabbing the top of their snowboard to try and get their legs over the ledge so they could slide down the side of the halfpipe relatively unscathed.

It almost worked too.

Because Jem fell towards the ledge at sixty four kilometres per hour, and their weight easily increased to almost two hundred pounds with all their winter gear, it wasn’t going to be an easy crash in any sense of the word. Jem didn’t work fast enough as their back leg clipped the ledge, bending and snapping the opposite way of their knee. Jem, feeling the pain shoot up to their spine, let go of their board, and they got completely turned around.

All they remember before their head hit and skid down the side of the halfpipe was the pain.

The next thing Jem remembers after the crash was waking up a week later in the hospital, with screws and metal pins in their left leg.

Jem came back to their senses, in the town car as the crash was shown on their phone screen. The video ended after Jem’s face grinded against the snow, shattering their helmet and goggles. The doctors said that they were lucky they didn’t lose an eye. But it was hard for Jem to even imagine that they were lucky as they gazed at their casted leg.

The screen went back to Regan, with a photo of the paramedics loading Jem into their ambulance. “After much deliberation of Jem’s injuries, it was leaked from an inside source that they were going to need to go through extensive physical therapy if they wanted to even walk properly again. The crash left Jem’s hip dislocated, their shin was shattered and their knee was completely torn out of its socket. Not to mention the torn ligaments and strained muscles. All of which were in Jemon’s left leg.”

The next camera angle featured the photo of Jem last night, standing at a podium with press surrounding them. Regan continued with, “Last night, Jemon gave this statement regarding their future in their career.”

Jem didn’t think they looked half as distraught as they did getting up on the podium. Jem began their speech, “Thank you one and all for coming tonight. And thank you for your hopes and prayers for me and my family as we pushed through these trying times over the past couple months. But as my recovery continues, and after getting a second and third opinion from trusted physicians, I am saying that I will never be able to compete again. I will continue my physical therapy in another facility down south. I’m sorry to all my fans,” at this point Jem’s voice began cracking the slightest bit, “I’m sorry to all those who supported me in achieving my dream. And from the bottom of my heart, thank you for making my dream come true. Even for a little while.”

The camera panned back to Regan, who had a solemn look on his face. “A teary eyed statement from Jemon Morale, and what will probably be their last public statement for a long time. I do want to say on behalf of this network, it was a pleasure covering your journey. We wish you all the best. In other news...”

Amalthea had finally ripped the phone out of Jem’s hands, effectively tearing the earbud out of Jem’s ear as well. “What the hell Mal?” Jem yelled, rubbing their ear to soothe the pain.

“You are the worst glutton for punishment I have ever met Morale.” Amalthea criticized, smacking them in the arm. “Anyways, Jimmy Kimmel wanted to to see if you could make it-“

“No.” Jem answered.

Amalthea flicked them in the nose, “I’m not letting you become a hermit down here. People want to hear from you Jem!”

“You’re trying to come up with things so I can keep paying you to do your job.” Jem stated, starting to toy with their cane. “The job which you’re terrified of losing because now that I am a washed up, cold, son of a bitch, I don’t really have a need for you anymore.”

Amalthea gritted her teeth but kept her voice as calm as she could. “I’m trying to give your fans what they want. We used to both want that.”

She stared Jem down to the point where guilt began to weigh in their shoulders. After a moment Jem sighed, “Fine. Set me up with Jimmy in a month, I just got here and don’t want to leave so soon.”

Jem looked out their window, as they passed by a boardwalk. This sunshine state was much different than what Jem was used to. No snow, and a fresh smell of the sea. And with that small inspiration, Jem got an idea.

They knocked on the window separating them from their driver, “Thorne, pull in here. I wanna go for a walk.”

Their driver nodded as Jem unbuckled their seat belt and readied their cane. Amalthea’s eyes widened, but really didn’t want to fight about this. So instead she just said, “Try and be back in ten. And take in some of the sights, maybe it’ll remove the stick shoved up your ass.”

Jem chuckled, opening the door. “Thanks Mal.”

With that, Jem left their town car. The boardwalk was alive with tourists and music. The sun beaming down on everyone was relaxing, although it was quite overbearing for Jem who had spent most of their life surrounded by the snow.

Leaning half their weight on their cane, they made their way up the wooden platform. They silently hoped that the sunglasses on their face would be enough to hide their identity. Although somehow, even here Jem’s face had graced some newsstands. But this was going to be a fresh start for them.

Right?

Wrong.

As they kept to the side of the boardwalk, they watched as the waved floated below them. The sun shining off the ocean was absolutely breathtaking. They couldn’t help but feel like they were at peace. But all good things must come to an end.

“Hey!” Someone shouted at Jem. Jem turned towards the yelling, and saw three, burly men approaching them. “You’re that guy, right? The snowboarder.”

Jem nodded, giving the men a thin lipped smile, “Yep, that’s me. Are you guys fans?”

The aggressive manner in how this man and his friends cornered Jem into the railing was telling them the exact opposite. But the man kept with a large, but obviously sarcastic smile.

“Kind of, give or take.” The man said, taking a puff from his cigarette. “I really thought you had some potential kid. You were truly one of a kind.” There was a moment of silence, that Jem was about to thank the guy in but then he continued, “I even put some money down on you.”

Shit.

Jem put the hand they didn’t have gripping their cane up defensively, “Okay, I see how it is.”

“Do you?” The guy dropped his cigarette on the would and put it out with his boot. “Because, I couldn’t get my son the game he wanted because of you.”

To sass or not to sass, that is the question. And unfortunately for Jem, since their accident they’ve been leaning more towards the former. “Buddy, it sounds like if you couldn’t afford buying something for your kid, then you had no business in putting your money down elsewhere. You cared more about getting more money then making your son happy.”

With that, the guy’s face fell. Fury is becoming etched into his features, but Jem continued. “Your deadend job isn’t paying you enough, or maybe you’re just lazy and refuse to ask for more hours. Maybe you’re just a coward, who thinks it’s unmanly to ask for help.”

Jem laughed to themselves, before delivering the killing blow, “The truth is, you’re emasculated when your pride takes a blow. And because you’re that sensitive, I may not have a gender, but somehow I’m still twice the man you’ll ever be.”

Now, in an hour after all this unfolds if you asked Jem if they regretted their actions here, they’d reply, “no, not really.” Despite any logical person would say yes.

The burly guy nodded to his friends, who immediately closed in on Jem. Jem instinctively tucked their bad leg behind their good one and leaned back towards the boardwalk railing. They deserved this, they know that. So they were gonna roll with the hits.

One of the friends snatched Jem’s cane from them, throwing them off balance. Jem quickly grabbed onto the railing, as the guy with their cane hit them in the stomach with it. Jem’s only response was a grunt.

A crowd began to form around them, some people taking video and Jem knew that surely enough this would be their next headline. The friend took Jem’s cane and tossed it over the side of the boardwalk, into the water. Jem tried to spin around and grab it, as somebody came up from behind Jem and knocked them over.

It was difficult for Jem to process what was happening, even as they went crashing head first into the water. They quickly were able to spin right side up, but couldn’t keep their head above water. Every desperate claw towards the surface, every time they tried to take a gulp of air, it was to no avail.

Jem’s vision began to blur, in a sense it was peaceful. As if this was what Jem was waiting for. After all, hadn’t Jem done everything they were meant to do? Their journey in life was over, their dream destroyed because of one mistake. Everything was over.

Or had it just begun?

Jem felt arms come around them and pull them up towards the surface. They gasped for air, coughing up some of the water. The strong arms wrapped around them gently patted their chest as Jem heaved.

“It’s all right mate, I got you.” The voice said. Jem peeked over their shoulder to see a man, with dark hair and green eyes. Not far off in the distance was a small boat, and Jem felt a small rush through their veins.

Yes, the next adventure had just begun.

[xserpentlife]

Open Your Eyes - Chap 4 (Birth)

Requested: Anon Hello! Can I request a fangsxreader where she’s jughead sister and dating Fangs and instead of Fangs the reader is the one who gets shot and fangs is like super worried and thinking that reader could die? I love loveloveeee your blog so much thanks.

A/N: here is the long-awaited chap 4, I wrote this one a different way and I was going to put it into chapters but I figured I mine as well give it to you all at once. I hope you guys love it as much as I do. 

Warnings: None that I can think of except cursing and talks of pregnancy and birth.

Word Count: almost 6000

Taglist: @chipster-21

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

First Trimester

Coming home wasn’t bad you moved in with Fangs full time since you had planned to before the accident anyway. He was the sweetest to you, constantly helping. You couldn’t walk alone for a bit. It was tough for the first two weeks you couldn’t stand for longer than 10 minutes at a time due to the pain. The Serpents were being beyond helpful with everything, meals were constantly being brought to your trailer and everyone was spending time with you especially Toni and Sweet Pea. Healing was going pretty well but honestly, the worst part was the nausea. At first, you didn’t have much morning sickness but the second week home you felt like it was all you were doing. Yeah, most people get morning sickness but for you, it was so much worse. The gunshot wound you had was still healing and it was situated right below your bra line. Every time that you would lean over to throw up a massive pain would rip through your entire body. But you didn’t wanna bother Fangs with it and he was quite the heavy sleeper so you didn’t have to. That was until you got up by yourself one morning to go throw up and you bent over to quickly causing one of your stitches to tear, eliciting a loud scream from you. Fangs ran in basically ripping the bathroom door off its hinges before seeing you curled on the floor in a white shirt with a small blood spot forming.

“Baby, baby oh my god what happened”

“I… I don’t know Fangs”

“Baby let me see” He lifted your shirt slowly.

“Okay baby you tore a stitch, it’s gonna be fine okay. I’m gonna carry you to the car and we are going to go to the hospital, okay?”

“I don’t wanna go back Fangs I just got home”

“I know babe, but gotta make sure bub is good okay”

“Fangs what if…”

“No everything's fine just need to fix you up a bit”

“Okay” You tried standing up we're having trouble standing

“C'mere” He helped you stand and walk out to the truck keeping a  towel pressed to your stitches as he drove. “Baby we’re here let’s go in” after going into the doctor told you that you had torn a stitch throwing up. He was going to get you a prescription for anti-nausea meds so the likelihood of you tearing another one would be slim.

“You know babe I told you I didn’t wanna come back here unless it was for the baby”

“Yell well it was, they tore my stitch asshole”

“Already calling our baby an asshole are we?”

“Leave me be Fogarty”

“I just wanna go home and sleep”

“We can babe we can just pick the prescription up from the desk on the way out”

After you scare nothing else was really going on. Your stitches and wound healed flawlessly, your baby was healthy, and you and Fangs were happy as can be. You started having food cravings makings Fangs get up at two in the morning to get you the weirdest combinations but he really didn’t give a damn because he knew it was to make you and the baby happy. You had been spending a lot of time with friends and the other serpents trying to understand what it would be like to mom but everyone was always telling you you’d know when it happened. You would just ‘get it’ whatever that meant. Luckily Pea could keep your mind off of it his goofy self always scheming up some sort of trouble. He was coming over to watch movies with you and Fangs and he was bringing over some pizza. Do you waited so hungry you actually guaranteed Fangs that you would eat your pet pig if Pea didn’t hurry up. He knew you’d never hurt your sweet girl but thought it was funny that you were getting so hungry even though you ate less than an hour beforehand.

“He better hurry the fuck up Fogarty”

“I can’t control him”

“Ugh I'm dying!” and luckily he knocked on the door right then. You got up instantly grabbing the pizza from his hands.

“What I don’t get a hug or hello, or even a thanks for bringing you food”

“M’hungry you took too long jackass. But thank you” you ran up giving him a quick hug before sitting back down in front of the pizza. You saw him take fries out of a bag and then watched as he pulled out a wrapped sandwich.

“Pea if that is a cheesesteak I beg of you not to open it”

“I got a big one figured it’s your fav so we could all share”

“Don’t. Open. It!” But he did, and as soon as the smell hit your nose you were getting up almost tripping before Fangs caught you and ran with you to the bathroom door holding your hair back, Pea coming up behind you.

“What the fuck happened”

“She can’t eat them anymore, makes her sick”

“She just ate one like two weeks ago!”

“Makes her sick now, guess the baby doesn't like it. We went to the pizza shop on main like last weekend and as soon as she smelled one she was in the toilet throwing up we only figured it out cause we ordered one to go cause we figured she just got sick from nausea and when we got home and I opened it she threw up again”

“That’s weird as shit”

“Tell me about it! I’m sorry Pea but could you close it up maybe eat it later”

“Course Y/N”

“Thanks, Pea”

“No problem gotta make sure the little one is happy”

Second Trimester

Your first trimester went along relatively smoothly, yeah for sure you had nausea. Your baby made your life hell with the foods you used to love to eat and now hated, but overall it was pretty easy. Fangs was by your side through all of it and the Serpents for sure helped out a lot.

At the beginning of your second trimester, your baby bump was prominent. You remember the first time fangs saw it like it was yesterday. You were doing stuff around the trailer lazy as can be all day and had thrown on one of his shirts that you always wore. It was tighter than usual but honestly, you really didn’t care that much, you just wanted to be comfortable and you always were in his clothes. When he came home from work you were standing over the stove cooking dinner. He came in through the front door and saw you standing there sideways, and just dropped everything that he was holding. You looked over to him in shock not even hearing him come through the door.

“Babe, you okay?”

“I’m more than okay, oh my god Y/N”

“What?” “Your belly”

“Huh?”

“You haven’t looked in the mirror today, have you? No...”

“Cmon”

“But Fangs the food”

“Turn it off, please”

“Fine” he led you to the bedroom and stood you in front of the mirror slowly lifting the shirt over your belly you had just not paid any attention to recently.

“It looks like you started showing overnight”

“That’s impossible”

“Is it?”

“I don’t know to be honest”

“But I know how it will get bigger”

“How’s that?”

“The food on the stove cause I'm starving and I bet you are too”

“I’m always hungry Fogarty, your baby loves food”

“Just like daddy”

“Oh god now I'm gonna call you daddy”

“Baby you always call me daddy”

“Be good your baby is in here”

“Yeah how do you think it got there”

“You are so bad! Go finish the food”

“Okay princess you pick a movie okay?”

“Okay”

The middle of the second trimester was going smoothly expect you felt kinda gross, you started having a bit of hip pain and you actually kicked Fangs in the balls while sleeping. The doctor wasn’t kidding when she said you'd have leg spasms. You felt so bad after because he shot up in bed in shock and you had no idea you even did it until he yelled out what the fuck was that for and you woke up. Luckily it only happened once though.

The middle is where the bad parts started. You really just wanted to stay home and be left alone and do nothing but Fangs was not letting that happen at all.

“Baby I don’t wanna do anything!”

“Why not”

“Cause I don’t look good I look fat, I can barely see my feet, and I haven't been able to see my vagina or shave my legs in months I am a fucking hairy beast, now leave me the fuck alone”

“I’m not leaving you alone baby, this baby is partially my fault so it is only right that I tame the hairy beast”

“I’m gonna kill you”

“What I think your hair is cute”

“Fangs! Go! Away!”

“I’m! Not! Leaving! You!, Just let me help you!”

“Help me what?”

“I already ran the bath just go get in and I’ll be in, in a sec”

“Fine” You walked in a sat in the warm tub, it felt so nice on your hip and muscles and an instant relaxation hit your body instantly. He walked in shorts on and shirtless as he sat on the edge of the tub carefully grabbing your leg and situating it on the edge of the tub next to him at an angle.

“Fangs what are you doing?”

“Shaving your legs”

“You’re what!”

“Shaving your legs then you can’t be mad for being a hair beast”

“So I am hairy!”

“No, no I just know you wanna be shaven so I figured why not help since you can’t reach”

“It’s so gross though”

“Baby I’m about to watch you push out a baby in a few weeks I highly doubt this is that gross”

“Thank you”

“No need to thank me, baby, like I said I will always be here to help”

“Can you get in the bath with me after”

“Of course”

Towards the end, you were anxiously awaiting your baby shower. You didn’t want to have one but all the Serpents insisted that you needed to considering they have all been there throughout your pregnancy. Fangs sent you on a trip with Toni for a week or two, wanting you to have perfect relaxation before you got into the final run of the pregnancy. You were finally back and were going to meet him at the Wyrm. You walked in expecting nothing only to be surprised by all the Serpents and a bunch of rainbow balloons. You waved everyone hello as Toni handed you a mock mimosa.

“Thanks, T”

“No problem, you happy”

“I guess I just… why is everyone making this big of a fuss about me?”

“Because this is the first serpent baby we’ve had in like 5 years everyone is super excited, not many of these people have a huge family you know that”

“Yeah I guess, do you know where Fangs is?”

“He said he was coming later” You felt a tap on your shoulder to see Fangs behind you.

“Your back”

“I missed you so fucking much Fogarty never send me on a trip again unless you come”

“I’m sorry I just wanted you to have a good time”

“I did but I missed the fuck out of you, guess what?” “Hm?”

“I was playing videos of us cause I missed you, and the baby moved a little when you talked in the video”

“Really?”

“Mhm”

“Maybe tonight I can sing to her”

“I’d like that a lot”

“Hey do you think we should announce the gender”

“Mhm, I have an idea” You remembered seeing the board when you had walked in. The board with tallies on whether it was a boy or girl. So you pulled fangs with you and walked up to the board handing him chalk. As you both led your hands to the board everyone was watching as fangs circled girl and you crossed out boy. You never heard the Whyte Wyrm be so loud before. And as soon is it died down Toni was screaming “Gift Time”. In your opinion, it may have been the best part. Most of the Serpents have their own trade or skill. Some were sewers, some builders, some seamstresses, painters, finishers, chefs, etc. It was nice getting gifts that had just a bit of every one of them. But then came Pea as he came up a giant box wrapped in recycled newspapers. You appreciated the reuse of the paper.

“So I know it won’t work yet but I saw it and I had to buy it”

“Ok…” You opened the box to see a tiny toy motorcycle for your bay to ride. “Pea…”.

“You don’t like it… I know it was crazy I’m sorry I just thought maybe you would and if you're mad I can return it…”

“Stop, I love it”

“You do!”

“You do!” that is all you heard from everyone.

“Of course I do. Motorcycles are a big part of every one of us. This baby is going to grow up seeing them everywhere, so why not let her ride a little toy one. My baby is gonna be a badass and we all know it”

“I’m glad you said that” He handed you a smaller box that when you opened it was filled with a rubber throwing star.

“What is my baby is gonna be a ninja!? No Pea this is where I draw the line”

“Thought so, I’ll just give them to Fogarty to practice his aim”

“Hey! I have perfect aim, hence the bun in the oven”

“Fangs!”

“Ew Fogarty”

“You have one more gift baby” “I do? I don’t see any more”

“It’s not here if you wanna stay we can but your gift is at home”

“Oh okay, I mean it is late and I am kinda tired can we go?” “Yeah of course” You thanked everyone for coming and said goodbye. Fangs then helped you into his truck as he began the drive home. But he was taking a different way than normal.

“Fangs where are you going”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always”

“Then close your eyes for me and you can’t open them until I tell you”

“Uhm okay but you know if you wanted to kill me you should've done it before the bun”

“Your insane now close your eyes baby”

“Okay” So you sat with your eyes closed and slowly felt the rock come to a stop as you heard Fang’s door open and close and then heard yours open.

“Ready”

“Can I open my eyes”

“Not yet” He grabbed your hand leading you out of the truck before you came to a stop. “Okay, now”

“You opened your eyes to see a beautiful single story trailer like home. It was bigger than the RV trailer you were currently in.

“Fangs what…” You looked up to see a Welcome Home banner.

“Welcome home baby”

“What do you mean welcome home…”

“Well FP called, said this trailer was available it has three bedrooms since its super long oh and a living room and kitchen… clearly haha. So I sent you with Toni and Me, Pea and a bunch of the Serpents fixed it up during the week you were gone. I figure we would need more space you know with the baby coming and maybe if we eventually have another baby or a dog or something. I know it’s not a house or anything and I wish I could do more but…” You stepped up to him a hand landing on his cheek.

“Stop it. Don’t you ever and I mean ever apologize that you can’t do enough for us. Everything you do is incredible Fangs. You do so much more than I could even think to ask, and I love you so much for it. I would live in a cardboard box if it meant being with you. The fact that you did this for us I can’t even put into words how much I love you Fangs”

“I love you so much baby” Tears were flowing as he dragged you into the trailer. The trailer looked brand new.

“Fangs this is…”

“Do you not like it, we can change the color if…”

“No Fangs, this is beautiful”

“Oh thank god, do you wanna see the nursery”

“Mhm,” He led you to a room down the hallway after showing you your master in and of itself was freaking beautiful. Nicer than any room you ever had in your life. You could tell how careful he was at matching the colors, how well he listened to the things you liked. He opened the door to the nursery to reveal a perfectly sized room. It was beautiful, there was a chair for you to sit, the walls were paneled with tea, black and white paint as well as brown wood. And then you looked to the center to see a very unique crib, it was round something you had never seen. But what hit you the most was the fact and that you and fangs hadn’t really talked much about the nursery in the past few months. But the fact that he remembered the one time you had said you wouldn’t wanna make your baby girls room pink if you ever had a girl hit a nerve in you. The fact that he remembered that one small detail made your heart swell.

“Fangs… I love it”

“Oh thank god I’m so glad I didn’t know and everyone was telling me to do pink but I know you said you wouldn’t wanna force pink or blue on a child wanting them to grow up how they wanted and so I told everyone you’d love it this way and im so glad you do”

“I love it so much it’s honestly perfect and I love this crib it’s so unique”

“Yeah, I uh couldn’t find one to fit in here that I liked and I didn't want it anchored on a wall cause the room looked smaller, anyway Lynae came in”

“Pea’s aunt?”

“Mhm, anyway she came in cause she wanted to see the teal to get Andi to make the pillows for the chair and saw that I still needed one and told me not to buy one. A few days later, this was on the porch with a note saying she made it and everything. I already thanked her don’t worry. But yeah I never would have thought a round crib”

“It’s beautiful”

“Oh and toni picked up some of the decorations, and Pea apparently helped pick out the fabrics for the curtains and stuff”

“No way”

“Mhm”

“Wow”

“Baby…”

“Yeah?” “Are you happy?”

“Of course I am why?”

“I just… I know it’s all so fast ya know. Like you get shot found out were having a baby and then we move in together and then I get us this bigger trailer and… I don’t know I just wanna make sure your happy”

“We practically lived together anyway Fangs, and regardless no matter where we are I always wanna be with you, because where I am doesn’t matter because when I am with you I’m happy”

“I love the both of you so fucking much”

Third Trimester

The third trimester was going along quite smoothly in a way it was the easiest part of your pregnancy even though you felt like every time you walked you were carrying a bag of bricks. But Fangs was helping out with everything and being the sweetest as possible so you couldn’t really complain.

The beginning of your third trimester went along quite well. The first time Fangs really felt and saw the baby move. It was incredible. You were at the Wyrm most of the day before coming home to go to bed. You hadn’t eaten much for some reason you were super nauseous during the day so as you were laying in bed Fang’s hand on your belly he felt your stomach move a little.

“Is mama hungry?”

“Huh?

“You hungry baby”

“Not really.. Stomach still hurts a… OW”

“Holy shit!” he was watching your stomach, completely saw the foot that had just kicked you. “I saw it Y/N, I saw her foot!”

“Yeah and I felt it jesus christ it’s like shes a god damn kick boxer”

“Oh, baby are you okay?” “Yeah, yeah I’m good” He laid his head next to your belly before slowly singing a song to your almost grown bean. She was moving slightly at the sound of his voice and eventually stilled. To you, it was almost as if she had fallen asleep.

At the middle of your third trimester, you had decided to go to the mall by yourself. You needed to pick up a birthday gift for Toni. However, it didn’t go to plan because as you were walking through the mall you heard a baby cry, and then after you were walking towards the store you kept seeing people looking at your breasts. You felt very uncomfortable so you went to the bathroom to see if there was something on your shirt and of course something you didn’t expect to happen did. Your breasts leaked because of the baby you heard crying like motherly instinct or some bullshit you didn’t care. You were upset and pissed off. You had Fangs drop you off at the mall saying you needed alone time so you called him to pick you up and he did instantly.

“Baby are you ok…”

“No Fangs I’m not do you see my shirt!, Just bring me home!”

“I brought you one of mine you can slip on if you want”

“Thanks” He eventually pulled up to your home as you waddled your way inside you saw Pea sitting on the couch. “Ugh!” You ran to your bedroom laying flat back against the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

“Baby cmon talk to me, what happened?”

“No Fangs it’s embarrassing”

“Baby I've been with you for a while through thick and thin I don’t think anything you do could be that embarrassing to me”

“My boobs leaked okay”

“What do you mean”

“I don’t know Fangs I just got Toni’s gift and I was gonna walk around and shop some more but then I heard a baby cry and all these people started looking at me so I went into the bathroom and my fuckingshirt had wet spots on it. I think I leaked” He walked over instantly placing his hands onto your cheeks.

“Baby that isn’t embarrassing at all that is your body telling you that you are ready for this abby. Your body saying that you are ready to protect your own child and provide them with what they need”

“But baby It was so embarrassing”

“Yeah well I don’t think those people should have been staring it is a natural thing that happens, how bout I go put a few extra shirts in the car and one in your backpack that way if it happens again you’ll have clothes”

“That would be good thankyou baby”

“Course”

You waddled out to the living room to see Pea sitting on the couch. “Hey pea”

“Hey Y/N you okay”

“Yeah Fangs made it better I was having a moment”

“Ahh hormones”

“We don’t have to talk about this Pea”

“No it’s okay I wantto how has everything been since…”

“Oh my god the fight yeah my hormones were raging that night, but that guy deserved it who the fuck parks behind someones truck so they can’t get out and then he hit your bike! I don’t know why Fangs was so mad”

“Y/N I get where your coming from like you had every right to be pissed Iget that however, you are very pregnant. You’re what 28 weeks…”

“30”

“Okay 30 weeks and you literally punched a guy in the face!”

“Yeah and I knocked his ass out cold”

“You did which I’m impressed but… if you didn’t and he came at you, you could’ve been hurt he was just trying to be protective”

“I know”

“You guys talking about me”

“Hey babe”

“Always Fogarty, I’m the only one she complains to”

“Good to know”

“I’ll be right back guys gotta Pee” You got up waddling to the bathroom but before you shut the door you heard Pea

“Hahaha look at her waddle”

“You do realize she can kill you and get away with it, right?”

“Okay your not wrong”

“Sweet Pea! I heard that! Don’t forget what I did to the guy at the Wyrm!”

“Couldn’t dream of it now go pee before you pee yourself”

“Okay, that was one time!”

“Yeah on my carpet!”

“Ugh”

However,  the end of the third trimester came and you were miserable. It felt like your back was breaking your hips were tearing out of your body and you for some reason had headaches almost all the time. You were more than ready to get this baby out of you. You were at the Wyrm, knowing that in a month you most likely wouldn't be for a little while considering you’d have a newborn. You were hanging out with everyone and it was going pretty smooth. Fangs was talking to Pea and you to Toni.

“So how has everything been”

“Good it’s just getting tougher ya know like I feel like I should be used to it but walking is a chore, and the cravings ughh all I want is mac n cheese all the time. But oh my god the other day I had Fangs give me Pasta literally I didn’t want it cooked like he cooked it but then it wasn’t appetizing I literally just wanted to eat hard pasta”

“That’s weird”

“Tell me about it, but I mean it’s been good I’m just ready for her to come out” Your jaw clenches as you felt a cramp run through your lower stomach.

“Fangs is going to be running around like a chicken with his head cut off when that happens” You laughed slightly before instinctively grabbing onto your stomach with a wince on your face. “Babe you okay”

“Yeah I’m fine T just like a tightness right here” You grabbed her hand placing it onto your lower belly “it’s fine though I’m… fuck that hurts” “Are you in labor”

“I… it’s too early, I don’t know get Fangs!” He ran up quickly Pea following and everyone looking as he grabbed your hand “Fang’s I don’t know what’s going on it’s like a cramp”

“Oh my god, your having contractions we need to go the hospital now, fuck fuck the baby is coming to early oh my god we need to go come on get up baby…”

“Fangs chill”

“Pea Your telling me to chill when my girl is in LABOR. L. A. B. O. R. I need to get her to a…”

“Just stop, Y/N how bad are they, are they consistent”

“Just feels kinda crampy, not unbearable not to bad, and not consistent at all”

“It’s braxton hicks”

“It’s what now?”

“Braxton hicks, it’s like the bodies way of getting you ready it’s like false labor pains but they are more crampy then like a real pain” “How do you…” “Pea… how do you know this”

“I looked it up Fogarty, I mean Y/N your my best friend aside from this doofus I figured I should know some stuff cause if he’s not with you I am”

‘Okay well can you tell me how to stop them Pea cause they're real uncomfortable”

“Yeah, T can you grab her some warm tea or somethin”

“Yeah of course be right back”

“There isn’t really a cure for them but if the tea doesn’t work on the ride home Fangs can run you warm bath okay?”

“Thanks, Pea”

“No problem”

Now it was time to give birth you were so ready. You had one of the Serpents coming over who was a trained doula for years she had helped the Serpents give birth since everyone hated hospitals so much, Fangs, Toni and Pea were going to be with you and everything was on track, until it wasn’t. You water didn’t break on your due date. 10 days past his due date. 5 days ago you thought labor was starting but it didn’t. You woke up at 3 your water broke you felt the wetness of the bed and you thought it was go time, you were ready for it to be go time. You woke up Fangs the pains were not too bad to start it it was painful but not unbearable. He called everyone to the house. Fangs, Toni, Pea, and Vani your doula. The pain got worse. You were going through what was called back labor. Your baby girl wasn’t facing the right way which meant her spine was along your spine and it caused major pain, pain that you couldn’t even begin to describe. Fangs was holding your hand the whole time. It wasn’t like what they told you to be prepared for. You were prepared for stomach pain, and stomach cramps but no your back was spazzing and the pain was radiating through your entire spine. It was ungodly, worse than the pains of being shot in all honesty.

“I wish I could take some of the pain princess”

“I know Fangs, but ya can’t so it is what it is babe” He looked sad, one thing Fangs always hated was seeing you in pain. “sorry, that was rude” 

“It’s okay you get a free pass”

It was 7 ½ of back labour and you had no relief. It wasn’t like what they told you at all. Usually you would have a contraction and then be able to rest, but since you were in back labor you had no period of rest. Your back and body was in so much pain that it was getting so hard to focus on anything. Fangs eventually led you to the bath since a hot compress was relieving your back slightly he thought the water would help. See the plan was that Fangs was going to stay out of the water just incase something had to happen. But after he heard your screams of pain, the almost grunting he couldn’t just stand next to you. He had to be with you, touching you helping you. Between kisses and the whispers of “I love you’s” and “your doing so good mama”, you were feeling a slight bit of relief in the bath with him the hot water running along your back. See you should have been giving birth by now, your body was shaking which is usually to tell you your getting close but after another 40 mins, you were not. So your doula was saying it was time to go to the hospital.

“I don’t wanna go Fangs” You started sobbing, a gentle cry a mix of the pain and the sadness of not being able to do this the way you wanted. It was a cry that that broke Fangs’s heart. He wanted to be able to hold his daughter, wanted to be able to see her and wanted to be a father to her more than anything, but even with all that he never realised how much pain it would cause you.

“Hey it’s gonna be okay, we are all here, we are all gonna stay with you okay, we are just gonna go and your gonna push our little girl out there okay”

“Okay” You both got dressed. The car ride was like torture so much so you amde Fangs pull over after every bump. You got there and everything was fine you were sitting in the bed and the doctor checked you. The pains making you wanna scream, but then everything took a turn. Your doctor informed you that you were only 3cm dilated, after 24 hours of labor you should have been much further along. Since you water had been broken for 24 hours your doctor informed you about the clock ticking down. Your baby needs to come out before infection set in. You wanted to do it naturally and you were deathly afraid of needles, but you had to. For your baby to be safe you were started on pitocin and needed to get an epidural, but yous started freaking out.

“Fangs I can’t”

“You have to”

“Pea!”

“Y/N I know, you’ve been afraid of needles since we were kids but you gotta do it okay? This baby needs you to it, and we are all right here we won’t let them make us leave you are in charge here”

“Baby look at me. I know how scared you are but I’m gonna hold your hand the whole time okay, and we gotta get our girl out okay”

“Okay, I can do this” Luckily after the epidural the pain subsided enough for you to rest for just a bit, Fangs next to the bed rubbing his hand along your side.

But then the doctor came in to check you again after 35 hours of labour you were only 3.8 cm dilated meaning that something drastic needed to happen. But you knew she wasn’t progressing you almost felt it, you knew she wasn’t gonna come out and you were starting to not feel good at all you needed her out and you knew she needed to come out. And then the worst thing you heard, you needed to have a c-section. You knew the risks it’s why you chose home birth in the first place. You didn’t want all the medicine you thought you were strong enough to do it on your own.

“I wanted to do it Fangs”

“I know baby, but this isn’t your fault you know that, she’s just being difficult like her mama. And I'm not leaving you okay? They are bringing me scrubs right now I am going to be right there with you okay?”

“Promise”

“Nothing will make me leave you in there okay”

You got wheeled in and numbed You couldn’t see anything due to the cover but then you saw it. Your daughter being lifted up. You saw her she was born out o you and after a few seconds, they placed her onto your chest. She was finally here, and you felt the biggest since of relief, as one of Fang’s hands laid on your cheek and the other on her head. And you heard the quiet sobs coming from him almost louder than your own. You handed her to him as he held her close to your face and they finished stitching you up.

“She’s here baby you did it”

“We did it Fangs” You saw the tears welling in his as he looked at his newborn daughter and you, his girl who was so strong through it all. “baby are you crying”

“Of course I’m crying”

“I love you”

“I love you too, I love both of you so damn much”

40 hours total was your birth story. 40 hours of waiting for your baby girl and she was finally here. Finally ready to be in a family of love and care, and you were so ready to bring her to meet her amazing, dysfunctional family.

Yes having a baby was the highlight of your day, but the highlight the next morning was when you woke up.

[keenge]

I was holding her in my arms when the phone rang ... "It's 3:30 in the fucking morning this had better be important !!!" I said losing the dream. " Mat, it's T and I really do hate to bother you, but I think he is back," said my partner and best friend Theresa McCawley , " Beat patrol found her body about 30 minutes ago, down by the docks." " I'll be there in 15 minutes Teri. " and I hung up, got dressed and locked my door and left the house. My name is Mathias MacGregor and I have been a cop in Riverside, La. most of my adult life, was born and raised there, and the man my partner was referring to is known as the Dock Master ... this is our story.

It all started when a young girl, 16, was found beaten raped, brutally tortured and murdered on the East dock 8 years ago. Since then he has left 12 more bodies and so many unanswered questions it makes me sick. He had a calling card, my initials carved into the victims foreheads, a detail the press miraculously has never found out about.

It's been a year since he struck the last time, a year since he put a bullet into my chest and I put one into his leg and back, a year filled with pain rehab and booze and me tracking the few clues he has left behind.

The second victim was found less than a week after the first and it was the pathologist that mentioned the letters ... my name isn't well known outside the department and certainly not my middle initial, so it was obvious that a message was being sent since a letter arrived for me at the lab while we were waiting for the autopsy report.

She had been beaten and raped like the first girl but the torture was different, not by much, but enough to see the bastard knew what he was doing and was good at it, a beat cop brought me the letter having signed for it from a courier. Inside was my full name a description of both victims including marks left by the torture and one sentence, "These are only the beginning."

That was 8 years and 10 victims ago, but god it feels like a lifetime. I got close a year ago because he made one mistake, just one but it was enough to trap him. We just weren't prepared for the fight he put up, 2 officers dead, 3 more including myself wounded and a shit ton of publicity asking why we havent caught him. " Mat, the call went out on a cell and came straight to me, they know the rules." This is why I adore my partner and best friend, Teri can read me like a book.

There had been calls made over the radios for the first 4 victims but, after the 3rd and 4th had my initials on their foreheads as well as the first 2, we decided anymore would go out over special phones we had made for our department.

Don't get me wrong I don't hate the press, I just don't have much use for them to be honest. They twist words and actions and typically report only what they want.

After the first 4 victims they were already calling him the Dock Master, even though we had begged them not to, we had learned from other cities giving a serial killer a name tends to make them bolder and more ... violent.

"Do we have an I.D. on her yet?" I asked of nobody in particular, "No lieutenant, but she doesn't look like a typical street kid." I walked over knelt down and pulled the sheet back from her face, OH MOTHERFUCKER" I yelled, making everyone jump and turn towards me, " This is Mayor Thompson's daughter!!!" Teri looked at me with wide eyes and for the first time since the shooting last year I saw fear in her face.

Every single cop in Riverside knew Jesse Thompson, she was the city's darling because she was pretty and had a voice like an angel.

"Are you sure Mat" Teri asked in a hoarse whisper, "She is supposed to be in Chicago for the Cheerleading competition." "Yeah, I'm sure T, he didnt damage her face, except to leave his mark" I said, "I'll make the notification myself and meet you at the lab."

When I got to the lab I had a grim sense of satisfaction tempered with a pity I never thought I'd ever feel for the man i was sure was the biggest crook in our small part of the world. After the shooting, our esteemed Mayor, in his infinite wisdom, took to the press (see above opinions) and made us seem like the Keystone Kops.

I was personally accused of mishandling the evidence and the investigation and causing the deaths and injuries of my friends and comrades.

"Doc says it will be tomorrow before her report is ready Mat, go home and get some sleep for what it's worth, I'll go to the office then head home myself" said Teri when I walked through the doors. "Come by the house when your done at the office if you want T, we could both use some stress relief about now" I said with a sad smile. " You still have your key, I'll be in the shower and you can join of you want." She smirked hugged me and whispered " Only if you promise to be a little rough" and walked away towards the exit.

Teri and I have known each other for 25 yrs and it wasn't until 3 yrs ago that either of us ever really thought about being anything but friends, as strange as that sounds, we were both either with someone or only one of us was single or whatever the case may be but it took that long, but damn it was worth the wait.

When she got to my house I was in the shower as promised, as she came into the bathroom I could tell she had been crying, so I stood under the water waiting for her to decide what she was going to do, as she stepped in I grabbed her, pushed her against the wall, and fell to my knees in front of her, grabbed her thighs and pushed them apart.

I slid my tongue into her wet slit, flicking her clit, as I grabbed her breasts with my hands and played with her nipples. "OH MY GOD YES" she yelled, as I gently sucked her clit into my mouth, and rubbed it between my upper and lower teeth, as she came she grabbed my hair pulling me up and said "FUCK ME NOW"

As we were in the tub she shoved me down, grabbed me in her hand and squeezed, as she stroked slowly smiling at me, then swung her leg over and lowered herself onto my face, allowing me to find her clit and lips with my tongue, as she took me in her mouth, and slowly licked and sucked up and down my manhood, while I was licking and sucking her womanhood until she finished on my face and in my mouth,"God that feels amazing" she said letting me out of her mouth, she turned and rolling onto her back, pulled me over with her and taking me in her hand she guided me inside of her slowly, squeezing and caressing me inch by inch until I was all the way in, then she wrapped her legs around me, looked into my eyes, and said "Fuck me as hard as you can". So I did, and we both came, her at least 2 more times as I filled her with mine, then I slid down her body and proceeded to lick and suck her clean, making her cum again, then I picked her up and held her in my arms as she cried again, I held her till she was finished , then we laid down on the bed, and went to sleep snuggled together, in what would be the last decent sleep we would get for almost 6 months.

When we woke up that afternoon we didnt say much, just cleaned up and headed back to the lab where the coroner, Gina Dubois, was waiting with her report. " This is a bad one Mat, he has added to his repertoire. She died due to almost total exsanguination ... she lost about 95% of her total blood volume. But before she died he hurt her bad, I counted 146 broken bones, almost every single muscle, tendon and ligament was either stretched or torn, she was beaten worse than the rest ... " , she paused and I could feel the anger and frustration radiating from her, "She was raped repeatedly with a sharp double edged weapon both vaginally and analy, then he forced salt inside of her with a large rounded blunt object about 10 inches in diameter ... he tore her open inside so bad that even if she had been in a hospital she would have died!" " He also raped her and left fluids behind which we are analyzing now, but there is something else ..." and again she paused. "What is it Gina?" Asked Teri. Gina still hesitated, then finally spoke. "He left something else behind inside of her, a letter addressed to Mat" she said, " The letter is in my office since I haven't logged it into evidence yet." "Gina, what are you hiding?" I asked, "Not logging evidence is not like you, and you are kinda worrying me right now." "Fucking A and you should be worried, Mat he knows your full name, not just the goddamned initials, he knows you almost intimately," she said, "You don't even have your middle name listed officially anywhere, I know, I checked, so how the hell does he know so much about you?" Now I am not the kind of person that gives out my personal information to anyone, so for the bastard to know so much... " Gina, Teri, I swear I don't know, only 5 or 6 people know that name, there is a fucking reason I don't use it," I said, "The man that raped my mother and got her pregnant, he ... he kept tabs on her, and when she went into labor he followed her to the fucking hospital, and after I was born, he just walked in proud as you fucking please, and added a name to my birth certificate, my middle name... God I hate the name, but I have used what happened to her to become the cop I am, my middle name is, Dubois..." I heard Gina and Teri both draw in sharp breaths as they digested what I had just told them. I went into Gina's office and found the letter, and walked outside debating on who could know my full name, and hate me enough to do this kind of fucked up bullshit in my city.

Teri caught up to me as I was getting in my truck, "Mat" she began, "I am so sorry, you never told me anything about your childhood or growing up with what happened to you. But it doesn't change who you are, you are still my partner and goddammnit I need you to be at your best because this fucker is killing children in our city and he almost got you, so snap the fuck out of what ever funk your in and let's get to work and catch this maniac!" Leave it to Teri to put it so plainly and yet so perfectly, " Ok, T, your right, we need to go to the hospital so I can talk to Ashley, she needs to know about the letter." The letter! I hadn't even looked at it yet, and suddenly I was afraid to! Before I go too much further let me explain a bit more... Ashley Wise was the doctor that operated on me and the other cops that were wounded in the failed attempt to catch this bastard, but more importantly she is my baby sister.

"She is one of the very few people that know my full name so I need to talk to her ASAP."

I now my grammar and punctuation is atrocious but bear with me it is a work in progress

[distressedpanda]

Her Song (Loki X OFC) Part 6

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Blood

A/N: I actually made it on time guys! Hooray!

As always let me know if you want to be tagged.

Tags: @whosaidididthat​

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

"So how is my brother?" Thor's voice boomed across the training room. 

Iloa had been training with Thor for the past few days, Natasha having gone out on a private solo mission. Not having to hold back against him, she had enjoyed the change of strength and pace, until today. Now he was incessantly asking questions about her and his brother's non-existent relationship. It had been almost two weeks since he had opened up to her, in this very training room. The evidence still present on the wall, to the disappointment of a very disgruntled Tony Stark. Eleven days, six hours, three minutes and no telling how many seconds, since the mission that had both pushed them closer together and had somehow torn them further apart. But hey who's counting?

She panted from the exertion and hurled a Kunai at Thor's head to get him to shut up. He flicked the blade away effortlessly with Mjölnir, "Touchy subject?" he asked nonchalantly, grinning ear to ear. 

She blew her hair out of her face, "I wouldn't know, Thor. Haven't spoken to him since the Russia assignment."

He chuckled, "I thought he would have spoken to you by now," he jabbed at what, he was unaware, was an open wound.

She screamed at him and he went down on one knee holding his head. She was on him in an instant, Kunai at his throat, "I am not his keeper, you asshole!" Moving the dagger, she shoved his head down and walked back to her side of the room squaring off at him again.

He chuckled again without mirth, returning to his feet. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Again?" she asked. Extracting a new Kunai from her belt, she lifted her arms adopting a fighting stance. She watched his muscles tense, preparing to charge. 

Lifting Mjölnir to his side, he let out a fierce battle cry and was on her in a few steps. Dipping and sliding under his swing, she slashed at his side narrowly missing doing real damage. Instead, the dagger tore a large hole in his shirt.

He righted himself, pulling at the hem of the shirt to inspect the damage. "I really liked this shirt," he whined, but was still grinning.

"Quit pissing me off and I won't do the same to your jeans," she baited him.

He attacked again, swinging the hammer down at her. "Have you told him yet?"

He was trying to distract her and it almost worked, she narrowly missed the swing. Spinning her body away, just in time. Of course, there was no real danger. Anytime Thor saw that she couldn't escape getting hit, he would halt the hammer short of making contact with her.

She stood up a few feet away from the God panting heavily but not from the fight. She was agitated to say the least. He was the only person in the tower that knew her full story. Where she came from, what she was. “Don't you think if he knew, we wouldn't be having this conversation?” She snarled at him, then tried to reign in her anger, “I dropped a hint once, but he didn't take the bait. I even told him point blank that I wasn't a mortal. Twice. I am just not interested in fighting him to let him know.”

“You are his Disir, you most know that now,” he argued.

“Stop,” she screamed, Thor crumpled again. Holding his head in his hands, Mjölnir falling heavily to the floor. She breathed heavily, fighting the anger building in her mind. Taking deep steadying breaths, her hands trembled, gripping the daggers in a white knuckle grasp as she fought for control. She couldn't lose control, not here. She was afraid of hurting everyone in the tower, not just the pig-headed man on the ground before her that couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Thor looked up at her, “I am sorry,” he apologized, leaning back to a seated position. Still messaging his temples, the pain didn't stop him from adding, “But you know it's true.”

Iloa had had enough, turning on her heels, she ripped the belt from her waist tossing it and the Kunai in her hands on the ground next to the door. Exiting the room, she heard him call one last time, “You are only mad because I am right!”

She grit her teeth, grumbling under her breath about how he could take his damned prophecy and shove it up his ass. Rounding a corner, she came up short.

Loki, was at the other end of the hall, nose buried in a book. His brow furrowed in concentration, as he was reading and walking towards her. In a green button down the same shade as his eyes, black slacks, and patent leather shoes, tapping lightly on the floor. Beautiful just wasn't a strong enough word for the vision of elegance before her.

Her breath caught in her throat, Thor's words ringing in her ears. She wasn't even sure she understood what a Disir was anyway. When Thor had first met her, he had told her what she was. She had spent far too many years on this earth wondering why she had stopped aging. She was stronger, faster, more agile and durable, with quicker reflexes and more stamina than anyone she had encountered before. Then her ability had shown itself, throwing her into even more confusing territory.

It had never made sense to her, until Thor had forced her to let him explain. But now standing there with a quickly approaching Loki, this information meant nothing if he wouldn't even talk to her. She crossed her arms over her chest, stepping into his path. But as he got close to her, he stepped around her never looking up from the book in his hands. 

She dropped to her knees, hands on the floor barely holding herself up. He couldn't have hurt her more if he had actually hit her. Acting like she didn't exist was so much worse. She curled in on herself, her heart ripping from her chest and following the man walking away from her.

She didn't bother fighting the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks. She was so angry at Thor, confused about Loki, hurt by his actions and the fact that she could very well be his Disir. She was a raw ball of mixed emotions and she couldn't fight them anymore. She sat back against the wall, pulling her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She sobbed, bowing her head into the private space her curled body created.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, it felt like an eternity. She had stopped sobbing, reducing herself to small sniffles, a while ago. Slowly she lifted her head, wiping at her eyes.

Thor and Loki were sitting across from her, the former staring at her with sad eyes. While the latter with his arms and ankles crossed, looking anywhere but at her. 

She yelped at suddenly seeing them there, and both men groaned in pain. She couldn't make herself feel sorry though. She ducked her head and looked away from the two, letting her hair shield her face. “What are you doing here?” she croaked out of her emotionally raw throat.

Thor cleared his throat, “Loki has something he wishes to say to you.”

She scoffed at the idea. 

Silence reigned in the hall and she was having none of that. Abruptly rising to her feet, she headed down the hall away from the pair. Her wrist was grabbed, and she immediately yanked herself free, whirling on whichever of the two had touched her.

Loki stood there, his arm still outstretched. The familiar electricity unable to reach her through the raw mixed emotions thrashing around her brain. Like living creatures trying to tear her apart. He slowly drew back, sliding his hands in his pockets awkwardly. He started to chew on his bottom lip, which aggravated her further. She crossed her arms, glaring at him, “What?!” she shouted.

Loki felt that single word with all the force she had delivered it with. He actually stumbled back reaching out to the wall to keep himself up right. He didn't want this. It was better for them both, if they had nothing more to do with each other. He couldn't bear to lose her in any form. But he knew that because she was just a mortal, if he allowed himself to let these feelings form fully in his heart, it would hurt even more when she died. The mission had made that perfectly clear.

He tried to form a sentence, to tell her these things. To be truthful to this woman that meant so much to him already. Unfortunately, he just stood there gaping foolishly, unable to utter even a syllable. 

She turned again, but Thor had overtaken her and was standing in her way. Her hands formed fists at her sides, “Thor, you are already on my shit list. If you don't get out of my way this instant, I will kill you,” she breathed the warning.

Thor raised his hands defensively taking a step back, “Okay, but listen,” he didn't get to finish, because Loki scoffed.

Iloa turned her burning sapphire gaze back to him and this time she was eerily calm. Loki was unnerved by her appearance, flinching away.

“Hey, back over here,” Thor begged, trying to keep his voice calm and assuring despite the tremble there. “Focus on me Iloa,” she drew her steely gaze back to him and he flinched too. “You have to calm down or you are gonna tear this entire building apart.” He kept his voice soft and gentle. She started to breathe more evenly, closing her eyes and concentrating on stamping out the raging fire burning through her veins.

Loki's brow knitted together, his brother was not just scared of the girl, he was terrified. He opened his mouth to ask but Thor cut in again, “Brother, please stop talking, unless you want us all to die.”

He couldn't stop the question from falling from his lips, “How can she kill us? We are Gods.”

There was just enough snark in that question, to reignite the fire in Iloa. She turned to him again but Thor stepped between them just as she began to hum at Loki. Loki crumbled to the floor, holding his head and screaming in pain. The walls around them, started groaning and shaking. The fluorescent lights in the ceiling flickering, as the ceiling started to splinter and crack. Loki could hear the building protesting at her power. All this did was further confuse him, as he fought to save his life with his seiðr.

Thor started over, “Iloa, look at me please. You have to stop or you will kill him,” Thor looked down at Loki writhing in pain on the floor. Blood had started flowing from his ears. “Please, Iloa,” he begged. “You will never be able to live with yourself, if you hurt him. If you bring this building down, you will kill everyone here. Don't think about him. Focus on, Tony and Steve, Banner and Natasha. She is back home now. I know she is you best friend here, right? You don't want to hurt all of them do you?”

A tear rolled down her cheek, she exhaled loudly. Everything stopped moving and Thor breathed a sigh of relief, crouching to check on Loki. His pain had stopped but Thor had no way of knowing how much damage had been done. He looked back up to Iloa but she was gone.

“How did she do that?” Loki asked through grit teeth, “She is just a mortal.”

Thor rolled his eyes, deciding whether to leave the idiot on the ground or not. “She isn't a mortal, you fool,” exasperated, he knew it wasn't his story to tell. But he'd had enough of this repetitive fight between the two. 

That seemed to clear Loki's mind enough to be astonished, “What?”

Thor chuckled, “She is an Asgardian, just like me. Well, not just like me,” he admitted.

Things started to make sense to Loki. She had mentioned that there was more to her than he knew. Had even stated that she was more than a mortal, more than once. But of course, being true to form, he had stubbornly never allowed her to explain. He hadn't bothered to earn the answers either. She had lived through being mortally wounded, only needing a 'nap' to fully recover. He sighed, sitting up slowly. Wiping the blood dripping down his neck, off with his sleeve and the back of his hands.

Thor watched him with worried eyes but Loki waved him off. “I was able to keep her from doing permanent damage with my seiðr.” He dropped his head into his hands, “I am a fool.”

Thor lent his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling, absently inspecting the fissure cracks that had formed there, “Yep,” was all he had to say to his brother.

[vigilantobserver]

I did it!

God, it’s finally done! I’m sorry for the long wait. School was and still is bullshit, but at least I finished it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu or it’s characters. I only own this Fanfiction

Warning: adult themes and this post is really long. Like damn. Also this is the second chapter of my Kurotsuki fanfic. I recommend reading the first chapter before this one.

Chapter 2

Kuroo POV:

I was waiting in front of my darling’s house. The house was completely dark, so I knew that nobody was home. I looked down at my phone, rereading the text he sent me half an hour ago.

From: Kei <3

Subject: Re, Re, Re, Re; Dinner

We are done with dinner. I’ll be coming home soon. Meet me there?

-        Kei

I smiled with adoration. Kei has never been a person to beat around the bush. His texts were always short and to the point. Most people would think he was being cold, but I knew better. If Kei really wouldn’t want to talk to somebody, he wouldn’t even bother to reply.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by a lovely voice calling my name. My head snapped up and immediately I was looking into beautiful honey colored eyes a few feet away.

“Tetsu!”

Kei jogged the last few feet towards me and I grinned for the millions time today. My boyfriend fell into my arms, hugging me close. Kei was always more affectionate in private.

“Hey, love! How was your celebration? Did you have fun?”

Kei pulled away from me just enough to look me in the eyes.

“It was fine, but I’m glad to be home now.”

I chuckled.

“I’m sure you are. You must be exhausted!”

“It’s not that bad...” Kei bit his lip and blushed, obviously wanting to say more but being too embarrassed to speak his mind. Well, I have a good guess on what he wants to say. With a smile I decided to put him out of his misery. My smile turned suggestive.

“Well, I hope you still have enough energy to spend some time with me.”

Kei went bright red. And hit me upside the head with a scowl, making me laugh. Kei’s scowl softened and he let his head fall on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck. He does this often when I laugh. It was a habit I noticed a few weeks ago. My guess is that he likes not only hearing but also feeling me laugh. Which honestly is absolutely adorable.

I calmed down and for a few minutes we just relaxed in each other’s arms.

 Tsukishima POV:

God, I love Tetsu’s laugh. No matter how many times I hear and I feel it, the effect it has on me never changes. It will always be calming to me. He’s happy. He’s happy with me and this is the undeniable prove. I don’t have to be afraid that I’m not good enough with him. For Tetsu I will always be enough.

Suddenly there was a gust of wind and I shivered. Reluctantly I separated from my boyfriend.

“Come one, let’s go inside.”

Tetsu nodded and followed me into the dark house. His smooth voice rang out behind me.

“Is no one else home?”

“No, not today. Kaa-san went to visit Oba-san and Tou-san is working the nightshift at the hospital tonight. Akiteru was supposed to be home, but you know why that won’t happen.”

Tetsu laughed again and I couldn’t stop the proud smile from appearing on my face. Being able to make him laugh is a really good feeling, even if this was more of a cackle than a laugh.

“Oh man! I still can’t believe that you and Tanaka are going to be brothers!”

I frowned at him and decided to throw my jacket at him in retaliation. This only caused him to splutter and laugh louder. At least his laugh was muffled now.

“Shut up. It’s only one date. We are not going to brothers, in-law or otherwise.”

Tetsu pulled my jacket from his head, taking a moment to hold it in front of his face and breathe deeply. I blushed at the action and his brown eyes gazing at me with lust. He put my jacket on the hanger and approached me. I stood perfectly still as he leaned into my ear and whispered.

“We’ll see about that.”

And the mood is ruined. Typical. I pushed his, once again cackling, face away from me and turned around.

“I’m going to shower. You’ve been here before so wait in my room.”

Yes, Tetsu was here before. Back then he came under the pretense of helping me study. At least that was what I told my parents, though I’m sure Kaa-san could look right through us. At least judging from the knowing look, she gave me back then. Tou-san on the other hand was completely fooled and had greeted Testu with open arms and exactly 0 suspicion, something me and Tetsu laughed about later that day.

I left Tetsu to his own devises and entered the bathroom. Releasing a sigh, I look down at my hurt hand. Now comes the hard part.

 Kuroo POV:

Kei has been in the bathroom for over half an hour now. Saying I’m not concerned would be a lie. After another 10 minutes I decided that enough is enough. Trying to remain calm, I walked over to the bathroom. I softly knocked on the door.

“Kei? Are you alright?”

There was no answer and I couldn’t hear the shower running. So why did he not answer?

“Kei?”

I called out to him a little louder this time.

“I’m fine Tetsu. Go back to my room.”

He did not sound fine. In fact, his voice was strained, like he was in pain. With a frown I turned the door handle, only to find it locked.

“Kei, please let me in!”

There was a moment of silence. I was about to call out to him again, when I heard the lock click open. Relieved, I opened the door. And there was Kei. He was dressed in boxers and a dinosaur t-shirt. Normally I would tease him about his adorable choice in clothing, but my words got caught in my throat when I saw that he was cradling his hand and spied the first aid kit by the sink.

“Do you need help redressing your hand?”

Kei just nodded after a moment of hesitation. I lead him over to sit down on the toilet seat and after fetching the first aid kit, kneeled in front of him. He holds out his hand for me and for the first time I see the true damage. I couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping me. Two of his fingers were swollen and bruised and the skin on them had been ripped, I’m sure he has torn something, too. It wasn’t bleeding, but it looked like I could start any minute now. The nurse had done a good job stabilizing his fingers before. I’m sure there would have been worse damage otherwise.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Even as he says this, I can see that he is in pain. Taking a deep breath, I take is hand in mine and get to work. As gently as I can, I clean is wounds and wrap a new bandage around them. Once I’m done I plant a soft kiss on his knuckles. I don’t need to see his face to know that he is blushing. Then I hand a painkiller to Kei, which he swallows without a complain.

“Is it better now?”

My voice sounds weak even to my own ears.

 Tsukishima POV:

“Yeah. Thank you.”

Tetsu says nothing. I need to find a way to cheer him up. It was unusual to see him in such a sullen mood and I have to admit that I don’t like it. As I contemplate how to make him happy again, I suddenly remember what coach Ukai said to me after the game. Perfect.

“It was worth it, you know.”

Tetsu smiles up at me. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Of course it was. You won, after all.”

“Not only that.”

My boyfriend gave me a confused look and I smirked. Pride was already rising inside me.

“I was named Most Valuable Player.”

I watch as what I said sinks in, and brown-gold eyes open wide in amazement. I had the pleasure of watching his mood make a complete one-eighty. With a shout of what I know is pride and joy, he pulls me of my seat and into his arms once more.

“Holy shit, Kei! I can’t believe- no actually I can. You are the MVP?! You are incredible! MY LOVE IS MVP!”

A blush of embarrassment made its way on my face. Did he really have to be so loud? But in all honesty, I can’t find it in myself to be angry. Not when he looked so excited and proud. Still, it’s time to stop this ridiculousness. So I decided to shut him up in the best way I know. I lean down and press my lips to Tetsu’s. He makes a sound of surprise, but predictably doesn’t push me away. After a few seconds of just enjoying the feeling of each other we pull away.

Tetsu is smiling softly at me and I can’t push down my own smile. His voice is barely a whisper when he talks to me.

“I am so proud of you.”

 3rd POV:

The raven looked at the blond as said teen buried his head into the shoulder of the older teen to hide his face. The two volleyball players wordlessly decide that it’s time to move to the younger teens bedroom. Once in said room they settle down on the bed. Kuroo leans against the headboard and motions Tsukishima to join him. The blond does so with no complain, settling between the older teens legs, to lean against a strong chest. Muscled arms wrap around him and hold him close.

For a long time, they just relax against each other, talking about everything and nothing. Gradually, the conversation lulls. After some time, a callused hand takes a bandaged one.

“Does it still hurt?” The raven asks gently.

“No, it’s fine now.” The blond answers honestly.

The older teen hums and slowly a smirk began to appear on his lips. He pulled the hand closer and once again laid a soft kiss on the knuckles. Tsukishima allowed a smile to appear and relaxed into the contact. The blond expected for that to be it and was surprised when he felt a firm kiss fall on the top of his wrist. Kuroo continued trailing soft but firm kisses down the arm in his grasp. The raven hesitated as he reached the blonds neck. When the blond leaned more into him, he decided to take that as the go ahead to continue. Gently, the raven traced the pale throat with his lips. Warm lips found their place where neck and shoulder meet and teeth sunk slightly into soft flesh. Feeling the shiver that ran down the others spine only encouraged the older boy more.

A soft moan escaped Tsukishima, as the older boy began sucking and nibbling on his skin. Kuroo brushed a trail of kisses up Tsukishima’s neck, to his cheek and used his hand to finally turn his lovers head to him, connecting their lips. Lips moved chastely against each other and the slim body in Kuroo’s arms turned completely. As the kiss became more and more heated, mouths opened naturally, and tongues brushed tentatively. A fight for dominance ensued, which was soon won by the older teen. Tsukishima let out a moan as he was turned around and pushed down into the pillows, Kuroo settling between his long legs.

Rough hands slipped beneath the blond’s shirt and trailed up to his chest, brushing against nipples in the process, making the younger teen separate their lips with a gasp. Kuroo smirked mischievously and quickly took the younger teens shirt off, only to duck his head and close his lips around a pink nipple. Tsukishima would forever deny that the ensuing high-pitched moan left his mouth, as his lover scraped his teeth over the sensitive nub. Kuroo chuckled and turned his attention to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment of licks and nibbles, while using one his hands to play with the other one. Tsukishima squirmed and moaned under the treatment.

Once satisfied with his work, the older one moved on to leaving a trail of kisses and bites down his lovers front. He stopped as he reached the waistband of the younger teens boxers and looked up.

“May I?”

The blond nodded quickly.

Kuroo smiled at his loves excitement and wasted no time in removing aforementioned teens boxers. The older teen sat back to admire the beautiful male before him. Pale skin illuminated by the bedside lamp, messy platinum blond locks and a blush that went from the tips of Tsukishima’s ears all the way down to his collarbone. The raven was mesmerized. Tsukishima shifted under his lovers heated stare and opened his mouth to complain but was beaten to the punch.

“Kei… I want to make love to you.”

The blond’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in shock. While he and Kuroo had messed around before, they have not yet gone all the way. He was nervous, scared even. But as he looked up into brown eyes with melted gold in them, he could feel his fear disappear. This was the boy, no the man, he loved, and he wanted to make love to Tsukishima. Not sex, not fucking, making love. How could he reject something he himself wants so much, too? Unfortunately, his silence had made the older one falter.

“Kei? I’m sorry, was that too soon? We don’t hav-“

“Me, too.”

Kuroo blinked in surprise, but quickly showed concern.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to force yourself for my sake. We can just-“

“Oh, for Christ sake!”

Tsukishima lifted his arms and legs to wrap around the raven’s body to pull them flush together, making their crotches brush against each other. The delicious friction making both groan. The blond looked up at Kuroo with a smirk.

“Come one, hotshot. Show me what you got.”

Kuroo could not help the snort that escaped him. He was, probably for the first time, both stunned and amused. After shaking off his shock, he leaned down and nuzzled his lovers’ nose with his own.

“Alright, alright, sweet pea. Your wish is my command. Let’s hope you’ll be able to handle what you asked for.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and Kuroo laughed, leaning back to take off his own clothes and reach for the nightstand. It didn’t take him long to find the lube and condoms he knew the younger teen stored there just I case. He opened the bottle of lube and poured some on his fingers. Slowly, he brought them down to Tsukishima’s entrance, feeling his lover twitch, he looked up.

“You ready?”

Tsukishima just nodded.

Carefully, the raven eased one finger past the tight rim of muscle. He watched his lovers face carefully for any sign of pain. The blond had tensed up at the foreign feeling. It wasn’t painful for him, just weird and new. Kuroo hushed him gently.

“Relax, love. I’ve got you.”

Hearing the deep and soothing voice of his partner made the younger teen relax. Once he was ready, he pushed down against the finger, giving the silent go ahead. The older one breathed out in relief and started moving his finger gently in and out. Soon he deemed it safe enough to enter another one and started to stretch his lover. Tsukishima hissed at the feeling, but otherwise did not complain. It did not take long before the pain turned to pleasure, and he didn’t even notice when Kuroo pushed a third finger inside. By now the blond was already a mess. He was sweating, squirming and moaning in pleasure. So much so, that he actually wined in disappointment when the raven removed his fingers.

“Sorry dear, but we can’t have you coming before the main event, now can we?”

Tsukishima blushed at that and hit Kuroo with a pillow, making him laugh.

“Just shut up and do it already.”

Kuroo didn’t have to be told twice. He reached for the condom, only to have it snatched away. Surprised brown-golden eyes snapped up to look into honey colored ones. The confusion quickly lifted when Tsukishima opened the condom and moved to roll it on Kuroo’s shaft. The raven groaned at the feeling of having the others hand on him. The blond even went as far as to apply the lube. Once he deemed his lover slicked up enough, he removed his hand and leaned back into the pillows.

Kuroo didn’t waste any time and lifted Tsukishima’s legs and urged them to wrap around his waist. One of his hands found purchase on his lovers’ hip, while the other guided his cock to the younger one’s entrance. Slowly, he pushed the head inside, all the while watching the blond’s face carefully for any discomfort. He stopped once he saw Tsukishima’s face screw up and saw him wince. Kuroo waited patiently until his lover relaxed again and only then started moving again. Even though it took a while, Kuroo finally bottomed out.

Both Teens took a moment to breath and adjust. Kuroo’s head snapped up when he heard a sniffle from above, horrified to see tears in those beautiful honey colored eyes.

“Kei?! Oh my god, are you okay?! I’m so sorry! Does it hurt? Wait I’ll pull out.”

The raven immediately moved to pull back but arms around his neck stopped him.

“Don’t.”

The older of the two looked up and…saw his love smiling?

“It doesn’t hurt idiot. I just… I can’t believe we are actually-.”

The blond cut off with a wet chuckle and Kuroo finally understood. Those weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of pure joy.

“Me, too. I love you, Kei. So much”

The raven said, leaning his head against Tsukishima’s. Said teen smiled wider and pulled his lover in for a deep kiss, pouring all of his unsaid emotions into it. The raven returned the kiss with equal intensity. Once they pulled away from each other again their hands found each other, and their fingers intertwined. Tsukishima’s legs tightened around Kuroo’s hips and both moaned as the motion caused Kuroo to grind into Tsukishima. Brown-golden eyes locked with glazed honey and the blond gave a slight nod.

The raven took the que and started moving. Slowly, he pulled out until only the head of his cock remained inside. Only to push just as slowly back in. The feeling of being this intimately connected was indescribable for both teens. As Tsukishima’s grunts of slight pain turned to pleasured moans, Kuroo picked up speed. Soon the only thing heard in the room were their combined sounds of pleasure and the sound of skin slapping against each other.

Kuroo pounded into his willing lover with abandon and marked up the pale neck and collarbone in front of him with lovebites. One of his hands was griping Tsukishima’s hip so hard, he was sure there would be a bruise in the morning. But considering the mess his lover was making of his back with his fingernails, he thought they were pretty even. His other hand was still holding Tsukishima’s, both of them holding on for dear life. Tsukishima cried out as he felt Kuroo hit that special spot inside him.

“Tetsu! Tetsu there!”

The older teen complied and adjusted his thrusts to hit Tsukishima’s prostate every time. The blond cried out each time he was thrust into. Feeling the electricity run up his spine and into every fiber of body. It didn’t take long for Kuroo to feel his lover tighten around him. His movements became erratic and he moved his hand from the younger one’s hip to his neglected shaft. Only a few pumps were enough for Tsukishima to finish with a loud cry, his semen spurting over his chest and Kuroo’s hand. The raven wasn’t far behind and after a few thrusts he emptied himself into his lover.

The older teen collapsed limp into his lover’s neck and for a few moments both teens just laid there. Spend and happy, basking in each other’s presence. After a while Kuroo pulled himself up to pull out. Tsukishima winced at the feeling of emptiness and got an apologetic smile from his lover. The raven leaned down to kiss Tsukishima’s forehead and stood up.

He disposed of the condom and left the room. After two minutes or so he came back with a glass of water and a damp towel. He handed the water to his lover, who let Kuroo help him sit up and took it with a quiet thank you. While the blond drank his water, the raven cleaned him up with the towel, removing what he could of their lovemaking. He then threw the towel to the side, to be dealt with later, and joined his lover in bed, who had finished the water and scooted closer to the wall to give Kuroo room.

The older teen didn’t hesitate in wrapping his arms around his lover and pulling him close. He rubbed circles into Tsukishima’s lower back, feeling the younger sigh against his neck in appreciation. The sleepy voice of his love rang out.

“I love you, Tetsurou.”

He smiled.

“I love you too, Kei.”

Quietly both teens drifted off to sleep. Both satisfied to just be with each other.

Fin

[weepingvoidpenguin]

True to Name (3)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Loki has long since been forgiven, begrudgingly so by Tony, for his actions in New York so long as he continue to redeem himself by helping out the Avengers. Though Loki doesn’t mind doing good things, he only gets to be mischievous on missions, which believe it or not don’t happen quite as often as he’d expected, so he has chosen a victim to take out his mischievous actions on. You.

Warnings: The end shows hints of smut pertaining to the next chapter.

Word Count: 3,225

   The next few days passed in a blur. It was hard enough avoiding Loki at every turn but now you’ve grown to avoiding Sam as well. It was nothing he did, of course it wasn’t. It was that you needed some time to just think about everything. 

   It was hard to think straight though, with so many thoughts hounding you at once. The only place you could clear your mind was at the gym. There you were uninterrupted and focused. Everyone, aside from Tony, Wanda, Nat and Bucky, had all learned to steer clear of your path. Your death glare could turn back armies if given the opportunity. 

   Now, as you tried to create holes in the punching bag hanging from the ceiling in front of you, you were jolted out of focus by an unwelcome tap on your shoulder. You bit the tip of your tongue in shock and winced at the pain before turning around and coming face to face with Sam.

   He plastered on an over exaggerated smile and you kept the annoyed look on your face, “So,” Sam started, putting his weight on his toes then back towards his heels, “how’s training going?”

   You raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unamused with how he was trying to go about this conversation and you turned back towards the bag, “If I’m allowed to continue, it would be going great,” 

   You peeked a glance at Sam out of the corner of your eye and sighed when he seemed hurt by your words, “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m just. . . I don’t know. Not in a good place right now,”

   Sam nodded and held the bag in place to make it easier for you to attack, “Yeah that’s kind of what I wanted to talk about,” he said, tightening his hold on the bag with each punch you threw. “I just want to know what’s up,”

   You felt sweat drip down your forehead to your chin and resisted the urge to wipe it away with your forearm. “Nothing,” You lied, desperately trying to avoid the topic, “At least, nothing that I want to talk about,”

   Sam’s gaze lowered to the ground but he continued to hold the bag steady for you, “Why?” he asked, “(Y/N), we used to be best friends. We could tell each other any and everything. Now that we’re going out, it feels like we’ve backtracked,” 

   You halted a punch midway through and your muscles tensed with his words, if he only knew. 

   “I know,” You agreed, unwrapping the thin cloth from around your knuckles and tossing them into a bin nearby.

   “Can we go somewhere else to talk?” Sam asked, “Please?”

   An uneasy feeling began to emerge in your stomach. You’d been waiting for something like this to happen. In fact, you knew it needed to happen. But still, now that the time finally came, you wanted nothing more than to avoid this exact situation.

   “Sure,” you heard yourself say.

   Sam walked in front of you, leading the way towards his bedroom were good memories were once created. A while ago, back when the two of you were nothing more than best friends, you spent the night in Sam’s room and vice versa quite often. The two of you would share what’s on your mind and tell each other your relationship problems, or lack thereof. It had been a sanctuary for you and you genuinely loved to enter his room because you knew a good time would be spent.

   But now, as you trudged towards his room, you could not have felt any more uncomfortable and nervous. What was going to happen? Were you guys going to break up? Were you guys going to stay together and try to work things out? Your brain rattled with endless possibilities and although the first option was something you’d hoped for, you worried of the effect it would have on your friendship. 

   What ever happened to your friendship anyway? You two used to be so open and honest about everything with each other and now that that was the necessity for a thriving relationship, you couldn’t be any more closed off. 

   Your mouth grew dry once the two of you made your way through the kitchen and towards the double doors that led to the corridors. You caught a glimpse of Wanda who, guessing by the look on her face, could tell something was up.

   What’s going on? She asked in your mind.

   Sam wants to talk.

   Wanda’s face grew solemn and she gave me a look of pity.

   You want me to be there?

   You thought about her offer, and although it would’ve been easier for you to have gone through this upcoming conversation with some backup, you figured you owed Sam and yourself some privacy through this.

   You shot her a quick smile and passed through the double doors, Thank you but I think I’ve got this.

   Although you couldn’t see her face anymore, you knew she had a chastising look on her face, Be honest. It’s not good for either of you to go on wasting each other’s time.

   You nodded, obviously to no one in particular but took her advice to heart. You had to be honest. And your sad honesty was that you didn’t want to be with Sam. In fact, you never did. Not in that way. But here you were on your way to try and repair cracked cement with tape. 

   I can do this, you thought to yourself.

   You let out a slow breath and walked into Sam’s room, letting him latch shut the sliding door behind you. 

   You sat in your usual spot on the foot of the bed and made space for Sam to be seated next to you. You hadn’t been inside of his room were weeks and as you glanced around at the dark gray walls, you were glad to see nothing much had changed since then. 

   Sam sat on the empty space beside you and rested his hands on his knees, not once looking at you but instead at the barren wall, “What’s going on, (Y/N)? Huh? What’s happening?”

   Your uneasy stomach subsided a bit as the tone in Sam’s voice came out in genuine concern rather than the angry one you had expected from him. 

   “I don’t know,” You lied, biting your lip back in hopes he couldn’t tell.

   “(Y/N),” he spoke softly, placing a hand on your leg, one that you unexpectedly welcomed, “look, I know this whole dating each other thing is weird. In fact, I’m not even sure how I feel about it. When we were friends we had more chemistry and honesty than we do now.” You peered up at Sam, waiting for him to take it exactly where you needed it to go, “I miss how it used to be,” he whispered.

   “Me too,” you admitted, “I just- I think you are my soulmate but not the kind of soulmate that I should be in a relationship with.”

   Sam nodded, as if knowing, “The kind of person you were meant to meet but not grow with,”

   You nodded, “Exactly. Don’t get me wrong, we’re gonna grow old together but in the sense that I’m gonna be your best man and you’ll be my maid of honor,” 

   Sam cracked a smile and faced you, “I don’t know, I always pictured myself as more of a flower girl,” 

   “Then flower girl it is!” You exclaimed, extremely relieved at how well this was going as opposed to the crash and burn you had thought it would’ve been.

   “You’re my person,” Sam spoke, “And I’ll always love you. But we’re better as friends than lovers,”

   “Much better,” you agreed, nodding your head vigorously.

   “I missed you,” he whispered to you, placing an arm on your shoulder.

   “I missed you too,” you genuinely smiled for the first time in what seemed like weeks but was only a matter of days.

   And somewhere in the living room, Wanda was smiling too. 

   After embracing Sam and spilling all of the beans about Loki, everything felt completely back to normal. You had hoped Sam didn't break up with you just because he thought that was what you wanted, but rather because you both agreed it was for the best. 

   Although he was upset that Loki didn’t respect the boundaries of your relationship, which was understandable regardless of whether or not you guys were serious, he seemed more bothered by the fact that Loki had been messing with you for so long. 

   You left his room after an hour of catching up and pranced down the corridor, your arm looped through his. The funny part is, you and Sam behave much more like a couple when you’re friends than when you’re actually in a relationship. You thanked the Gods for putting someone like Sam in your path and divulged in everything he was as a friend. 

   As you emerged into the living room, arm in arm with Sam, you laughed to your hearts extent and felt so light and so at peace. Everything was as it should be and you were thankful for that. 

   You were so involved in your peace, in fact, that you hadn’t noticed Loki staring at the two of you, torn between the emotions of jealousy, self-pity and joy for you. After so long of wanting you and being too cowardly to say or do anything, you finally seemed happy with Sam. He wanted to feel happy for you, he really did. But nothing could stop his jealousy and sadness from overpowering his wants. So he looked away from the happy couple and resumed his conversation with his brother who was casting him a look of concern. Thor knew about Loki’s feelings. Loki had confessed them to him the day after the breakfast disaster. Or, it was a disaster for him anyway. 

   You walked merrily to the living room and leaned lazily against Sam once the two of you sat down on the couch.

   “So everything went well?” Wanda feigned ignorance.

   “Better than well,” you whispered, trying to keep the gossip quiet.

   “Friends?” Wanda asked.

   “Friends,” you confirmed with a nod of your head. 

   While you lay on Sam, Wanda decided to do the same and lay on you and force Vision into her lap so the four of you resembled knocked over dominoes. 

   “So what’s the plan for today?” You asked everyone.

   “No plans,” Vision responded but he could sense your good mood and desire to do something, “but we could train if that’s up your alley,”

   You scrunched your nose at the thought considering you’d just finished training before the talk you had with Sam, “I’m kind of in the mood to fly,” you admitted.

   Tony perked up in his seat, wanting nothing more than to keep you in a good mood since it’s been a while since he’s seen you chipper, “I can get the Quinjet ready in no time,”

   You smiled at Tony, “That’s not exactly the kind of flying I was thinking about,”

   “Like, flying flying?” Sam asked.

   Your smile broadened, “Precisely. Those that can’t fly get left behind,” you jokingly stated. 

   “We’re gonna be like a biker gang . . . but in the sky,” Peter said.

   “What a weird way to put it,” Nat croaked up, tilting her head to the side in mock humor.

   “What about those of us that can’t fly?” Bucky asked.

   “I’m glad you asked, James. Luckily for us, at the current moment, there’s more of us that can fly as opposed to can’t. Clint, Nat and Peter can be carried by those who can’t. Peter can stick to one of us with his web and the others can wear a double safety harness so they can attach themselves.” You replied.

   “What about me?” Loki spoke up, his voice a song to your ears.

   “Thor,” you simply answered, not bothering to look at him.

   Once explanations were given, everyone agreed to this little activity, mostly to keep you happy and you knew it. Once everyone was assigned a partner, at least everyone that couldn’t fly by themselves, you all made your way to the endless yard surrounded by water and woods and Wanda took off first.

   The both of you loved the feeling of flying and it was that much more fun when you were involved, no matter who was flying alongside. 

   Years ago you were completely ordinary, just working as a teenage receptionist at an eye care facility. It was only when you were walking to your car one night that things went a little strange. And you meant literally. There were loud clashing noises coming from above you but because of the black of night, nothing was visible. The only thing you managed to see was a silhouette of a man with a cloak fighting to contain something. 

   Screams of agony echoed through the parking lot, causing you to back away but never once taking your eyes off the potential danger. You attempted to enter back into the building but the manager locked the door behind you and her office was way in the back. You managed to pry your eyes from the scene momentarily to strike your hands against the door in an attempt to make as much noise as possible. One of your hands flew to your back pocket and pulled out your phone. You shakily scrolled through your contacts and pressed the name of the manager on duty. 

   You just heard the click of an answer before an immense force clashed against your back and threw your body so hard against the glass window that you flew through it. 

   A week later you awoke to a man with scars on his hands and he explained he was Dr. Strange, an ex surgeon. He had explained to you that he and a few of his colleagues had tried to contain one of the six infinity stones. It had a slight mind of its own when it came to power and didn’t want to be contained. 

   “So?” You had asked when things weren’t adding up.

   “So,” Dr. Banner said from behind Dr. Strange, “Instead of being stagnant for as long as possible, it chose to abide inside of you where it could be used,” he tried to explain, “Although I’m not quite sure why it hasn’t burned you up yet, it’s a lot of power for a human to wield.” He sat beside your hospital bed and handed you a glass of water.

   And that’s how you became the wielder of the Reality Stone. And boy were they right when they said it was a lot of power to have. You HAD to emit a certain amount of power every month or it would cripple your body. Luckily for you, you’ve trained enough with the Reality stone and you’ve used its own power to make it complicit to you. 

   So, what you meant when you said it was that much more fun when you flew with anyone, is because despite what speed anyone was going, the physics of the didn’t apply to them. They could breathe easily despite the difference in pressure and weather.

   You kicked off the ground and caught up to Wanda in no time. You took a deep breath and felt the fresh air fill your lungs. The wind whipped wildly at your hair and you giggled with the feeling. Nothing was more nostalgic or peaceful to you then a glide through the skies. 

   Peter hung from Tony like an actual spider and you laughed cheerfully, “Hey, kid!” You shouted over the wind even though he wasn’t much younger than you. Once you caught his attention you yelled, “Wanna fly?”

   He seemed confused, as he wasn’t wearing his suit but he nodded nevertheless and you full on cheesed, “Let go!” You shouted.

   “WHAT?” Peter yelled back, more in shock than in confusion,

   “LET GO!” You repeated, now ordering him.

   Peter pondered on it but once remembering what your abilities were, he let go of the web connecting him to Tony and . . . he dropped. He was falling towards the ground, his arms flailing in all directions and suddenly, he wasn't. He flew down to his level and told him what to do and in no time at all, Peter was flying.

   After about an hour or so of flying around, you all made your way back to the compound and snuggled up for another movie night. Tony and Peter had first pick on movies this time so the rest of you went to your rooms to change and get snacks from the kitchen. 

   You were just finished changing into your matching shorts and tank top when you heard a knock on your door. You hurried over to the barrier and threw it open.

   “Ya ready?” Sam asked, your favorite blanket in his hand. 

   You jumped onto Sam’s back and he gave you a piggy back ride to the living room. You entered the room with laughter and cheer and didn’t notice the side eye glance Loki threw at you.

   You went to rest your head on Sam’s shoulder before being put down when the voice that came out of Sam’s body.

   “So, he’s your happily ever after then?” Loki asked from Sam’s spot.

   You were so thrown off that you almost got thrown off. But you didn’t say a word, instead you smirked and placed a light kiss on Loki’s cheek, “Bet you wish you could’ve felt that,”

   “But I did?” Sam spoke up before he let you down gently.

   “Remember that thing I told you that Loki was doing?” You asked and received a nod in response, “Well he just did it again,”

   Sam nodded, clearly irritated at Loki’s actions but ignored them cheerfully and saved you a seat on the couch. You grabbed a pack of hard Now & Later and a cup of water then started making your way towards the living room when your path was suddenly blocked off.

   You feigned a smile and took a step closer to the looming figure, “What’s up, love?” You asked Loki.

   He raised an eyebrow at you for the nickname but set an arm on the island beside you to cage you in, “What was that?” He asked.

   “What was what?” You feigned innocence, stepping so close to the God that only a hair could pass through the two of you.

   “You know what,” He responded, his jaw clenched in annoyance, “What game are you playing?”

   You could see him have to restrain from closing the distance between the two of you. Your eyes flickered back up to his and a playful smirk sprawled across your lips, “What? The God of Mischief can’t handle some mischief?” You asked.

   A look flickered across his eyes so quickly you weren’t completely sure you’d seen it. He looked down at your frame and mirrored the same playful smile, “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” he warned.

   “Oh, I think I know enough,” you whispered into his ear, your lips slid across the skin of it. You raised an eyebrow at him and bit down lightly onto your bottom lip, not once breaking eye contact, even as your hand brushed across the visible member in his loose pants. 

Tag List: @reading-cozy-crazy @bambi-loki @shockwavee @harryisbae101 @fuckthatfeeling @carydorse @cuteandnerdythings @nogardsoahk @mamachele81 @a-smokeless-flame

* I believe I tagged everyone excluding that one person I messaged so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged. Just because I don’t respond (It’s because I really don’t understand how to work Tumblr), doesn’t mean you’re not added to the list.

[flavorweight-blog]

Become A WEIGHT TRAINING EXERCISE Lion

This may be the hardest article I've ever had to write, it really is the very first time I've admitted, that I might be getting older. ROB! Yes, we are receiving older but, remember the rest of the sentence...AND BETTER! Most of us remember Mufasa! The solid, brave, protecting, heroic lion from the Lion King. Make without doubt about it Mufasa was The King!! That's right just like Elvis (showing my age group). Mufasa died fighting heroically to safeguard his satisfaction now. I'm not saying it had been age group that was his undoing. BUT who knows, if he had changed his training strategy during the last few years-trained just a little smarter......probably he wouldn't have gone his battle in the gym and had even more in the tank on game time. Could the results have been different??? Ok! back again to real life or at least my edition of it. Tammy Renee my Mufasa (boss, greatest friend, blah blah blah) provides approached me more than once about writing an article designed to help the ageing athlete. That is right, us siblings in Iron are sportsmen. My thoughts were....why would I end up being asked by her? What perform I understand about aging athletes?? I train as i have always.......I'm a global champion! Hello there!! earth to rob..you're 51 years outdated!! You are a mature athlete!!!! WOW!! It dawned on me then ..the things I i did so all night take me forever to accomplish now...BUT that is clearly a different story. We can save that for a different content. GINA - Aging sportsmen? Oh my....Can't we come up with a more correct term politically? lol Rob, haven't you noticed 40 is the new 30, 50 is the new 40? I actually injured my shoulder winning the W.A.B.D.L. Masters Bench Press Globe Championship in 2005. I competed in Bodybuilding in 2006 coming in 4th place in the W.B.F.A Team USA vs the World competition. I thought that easily actually got my conditioning right down to a research and came in shredded I could do some harm in 07. I thought then...am I a bodybuilder really? Is normally that where my interest is? My pal, occasional training partner and incredible powerlifter Phil Davi was in the fitness center working out. He talked me into seeing what I got on the bench that day time. Now I hadn't benched weighty in a long time. To say my initiatives were sloppy would be an understatement. However I did so max out in the 455lb range somewhere. For those of you at home and especially us Mufasa types....PLEASE don't get a max out from the crystal clear blue and wonder why you obtain injured. Some people are slow learners just. Phil checked out the existing world records in the alphabet soup of powerlifting agencies and discovered with some schooling, I would be right there and perhaps able to break a global record or 2 in the bench press for my generation and weight course. I actually asked my good friend, fellow article writer, fitness model, fitness competitor, amount competitor, fitness center owner, fitness expert of the entire year, one of the hottest Mothers and hottest women on the planet........drum roll.......... Gina Ostarly what she thought which was her response: "I am 99.9 % sure you ALREADY 'know" the answer...so this is just a 2nd thumbs up...I think.....I always go with my interest....whats in my heart...sounds like yours is in power lifting....always has been...As long as your 2005 injury is healed and can not hinder you...go for the record! The only reason I've not made it back to fitness .....is because my body won't allow it all...We keep getting harm...hell getting old...haha...but, I have not given up....in the suggest time I will be the very best figure competitor I could be.... From the source want Gina how may i not listen. Okay...that I understand now, I am growing older let's implement a few of our fresh found knowledge, in my own quest to set the 50 to 54 age course 220 lb pounds class bench press world record. My recuperative skills are not what they were in the past. I've had to create this concession to age group already. So over-teaching is a large issue around babyboomers. I have been guilty of the especially, In my over zealousness to earn championships, break information, play soccer or what have you I want to go obtain it and throw caution to the wind just. Well, after a torn hamstring, torn bicep, ligament harm in both ankles, sore knees and over all everyday aches and pains. Training: Okay hear we go. People talk to me on a regular basis if I reside in the fitness center or how many hours a day time do I workout?? There is a period when I would train with weights 6 days weekly and do cardio 6 or seven days a week. that was a couple of years ago. The cardio part especially, that was more for sports activities than for appearances. once I used powerlifting I think my just cardio was operating from the couch to the refrigerator. (Gina) Rob, people talk to me the same issue or make the assumption, " all day long must be educated by you, everyday." Well, my secret is CONSISTENCY, as time passes. Its not really about how much you do "this week" or "this month" Getting and residing in form is a prolonged dedication. Its doesn't imply killing yourself all night in the gym, it about creating stability and living realistically. Training 2-3 days weekly CONSISTENTLY will yield a better result in a calendar year than somebody who works out everyday for a week skips 3, functions how hard direct for 3 weeks.....drops off the true face of the planet earth for 2 months....etc....You get my point. My teaching had remained the same for several years basically. Pushes on Mon & Wed - ie.. chest, shoulders, tri's & abs Pulls on Tues & Fri - ie.. back again, bi's and obliques Legs & lower back again on Wed & Sat - Wed will be more squat oriented . Sat will be more deadlift oriented Based on what We was training designed for my weights might vary but also for the the majority of part the scheme was the same. As I stated cardio was as required. EASILY was trying to accomplish something where I needed to move actually. I would run or play basketball. EASILY was training for something where movement wasn't a concern...believe me I wouldn't move. The heaviest I've ever weighed was 277 in 2003. Breathing was a problem, my ex said during the night I snored like a rhino in high temperature. When breathing becomes a nagging problem it may be time to go back to the drawing board. That is while you are still able to draw.....My blood pressure I'm sure was sky high....never had it checked. I was the epitome of the ostrich strategy. Keep my head in the sand and what I don't know won't harm me. Training Mufasa: Ok! For us old lions...what can be done? Get yourself a physical: That's right! First factor head to your Doctor get a complete check-up and make sure that finely tuned or at least soon to be finely tuned machine is ready to go. Shed a few pounds: For the majority of us that is probably the first plan of action. Help to make it less complicated on those muscle tissues and joints (not to mention your mate) and drop a few. In case you are still fighting trim you get yourself a gold star here but I'd like a notice from your own significant other, just in case you're filled with it. Do cardio: I've dropped from an average fat of approx. 265 to now even more in the 225lb range. My heart, my joints, my blood pressure and my puppy Hank (the rhino in heat noises musta taken there toll) are thankful. Although I significantly changed my diet to get right down to 215 for the BB contest. I have since been eating a complete lot more but daily cardio sessions have kept my weight down. Not to mention again the primary muscle, my center (yes I have one) is appreciative. So for all of us Mufasa's cardio is crucial. Listen to the body: Train together with your mind, not over it. No, that can be done over head presses still. Just use common sense in your workout routines. Pass feel whether it's there and you feel like lifting a little heavier go for it. If not. listen to your body. Cool off the heavier weights for a good work out or 2. Don't pressure it! Consider shorter rest periods and go just a little lighter. There are way's of keeping your workout strength without setting world or also personal records. Go for QUALITY not Volume, and yes Rob, always pay attention to your body! Great suggestions. There are therefore many variants of you skill when exercising. Hardly ever feel like you need to "force thru it." Dealing with the big headed attitude could have you pushing for the LAST TIME! Don't overtrain: As I mentioned earlier. I was and at times am still, a habitual overtrainer. This correlates with the above directly. Listen to the body. Over teaching at this stage of the overall game, is more detrimental than when we are younger. As a young child we can get away with a little more. Today all we're gonna obtain is a severe limp and some catabolism on top of that. Seriously, this is not a joke. DO NOT OVERTRAIN. For the majority of us, three resistance training sessions weekly should fill up the bill. Use the K.We.S.S. (keep it basic stupid) in your workouts. Work each muscle mass group once a week. Nutrition: Nourishment is up to 80% of the battle. Breakfast is either the most or second most important meal of the full day. Your post workout meal is definitely it's competition. Be sure to eat protein with each meal. Start your day a good hearty breakfast. This gets the machine which is certainly you in movement. Look at the body as a furnace, you should gasoline it to maintain it burning properly. Obtain it started very first thing each morning (breakfast) and maintain fueling it every 3 hours. Look at a fire, you don't throw all of the logs on simultaneously. Throw a log in at even intervals and it will burn efficiently. Throw them all in simultaneously (supper) and it'll smother and fail. Avoid the All-American meal program. The coffee is known by you and a doughnut for breakfast, more espresso and a Hostess cake off the roach trainer for break period. Deli sandwich, coke and a handbag of chips for lunch. Then devour what ever the heck you may get your hands on for dinner not to mention our 2 Vermont buddies Ben and Jerry or Krispy Kreme (right Gina??) before bed. Post workout beverage: This along with breakfast is very important. Your post workout drink should contain a quality protein drink with some simple carbs (dextrose). More hints You need to take advantage of the window of opportunity right here 30 to 45 min. after your exercise. You body is in an emergency state right here and is preparing to make use of these crucial nutrients. Glucosamine and chondroitin: This have already been a miracle treat for me. Remember they take up to 30 day's to get into your system and don't stop acquiring them once you start to experience better......or back to painsville!!! As you can see a little modification here and there and some common sense is all that is needed!! As Gina so aptly put it " we are getting older but remember all of those other sentence..... AND BETTER"

[healthishealth]

I hope I don’t have ____, but I hope I have SOMETHING.

Yesterday, I received my genetic test results; it cost $250 and analyzed 26 genes related to auto-inflammatory diseases. In a big grey box it stated, “Negative result. No pathogenic sequence variants or deletions/duplications identified.” My heart sank, then lifted, then sank again and then broke into pieces. Every time I receive a negative test result, I go through the same wave of emotions. It’s not that I hope I have a terrible disease or some genetic mutation that I could potentially pass along to my children, but I’m hoping for an answer to this mysterious illness that has taken over my life. It’s a bittersweet feeling when my sixth hospitalization in the past few months results in no conclusive findings. I’m relieved that I wasn’t diagnosed with a serious illness, but I’m left with doubts about what the heck is going on with me and unanswered questions about my future.  The hard part about many of these tests is that in fine print it says, “This negative test result does not eliminate the possibility that the individual’s condition has a genetic component. Clinical follow up of this individual and their family members may still be warranted.” So, essentially, I spent $250 to find out that science isn’t sure what I have (or don’t have).

I remember the first time I learned that doctors didn’t have the answer to everything. A similar experience to when you realize your parents aren’t superhumans, there’s a part of you that loses a little faith and another part of you that is humbled by all that science has discovered so far and even more appreciative to be alive now as opposed to 50 years ago.

When my brain tumor grew back just 6 months after having it surgically removed, my doctors presented me with two treatment options: surgery or radiation. Due to the aggressive nature of my tumor and how rare it was, my top-notch doctors at NYU told me that they just didn’t know which one I should choose. Frustrated and afraid of making the wrong choice, I went to four other hospitals including Johns Hopkins and the NIH for second, third and fourth opinions, each time, hoping for a clue as to which treatment would be best for me. Ultimately, the decision was made for me because as time went on, my tumor became inoperable and forced me to undergo radiation.

After the whole brain tumor fiasco, I was sure that the rest of my life would be smooth sailing.  How could it not be? In my journey to diagnosis, I was faced with a torn esophagus, a collapsed lung, pnuemomediastinum, subcutaneous emphysema, severe neuralgia, and migraines. When my tumor grew back, I also experienced papilledema of both eyes and dysfunction of cranial nerves 9-12 (paralyzed right vocal cord, loss of taste on the back third of my tongue on the right side, inability to shrug my right shoulder, etc.).  Everyone I spoke to reassured me that this would be my biggest obstacle in life and pointed out how lucky I was that I experienced all this adversity at a young age, when I could not only recover faster and more fully than someone who was older, but that I would bounce back a stronger woman and be able to help others who experience obstacles later in life.

Once I recovered from radiation, I faced a whole new set of issues. At 22 years of age, nobody informed me of the dangers of getting back on my feet too quickly. I had decided to take an anatomy and physiology class at community college to learn more about my body and to try my hand at science – a topic that had never come easily, but that sparked a newfound interest I never expected to hold. I remember walking up the stairs to my class, my backpack stuffed to the brim with textbooks and binders. I had this strange dull ache in my leg the past week or so, but didn’t think much of it until one morning when I woke up in excruciating pain. I called my mom from my bed, crying from the pain shooting down my leg, unable to walk. Long story short, I was diagnosed with sciatica – a painful condition I only recalled older people complaining of. No doctor I went to was sure of where my pain was actually coming from. After multiple MRIs and CT scans, the only findings were two minor disc bulges between L4/L5 and L5/S1 and a minor degree of degenerative disc disease. I struggled for the next 3-4 years with episodes of terrible pain and underwent numerous treatments including epidural injections, SI joint injections, physical therapy, acupuncture, chiropractic treatment, spinal decompression therapy, and a botox injection into my piriformis muscle. The theory was that I had jumped back into my regular routine too quickly and my back muscles weren’t prepared for the spike in activity, resulting in an inflammatory response that aggravated my sciatic nerve.

Throughout all of this, I unsurprisingly fell into a deep depression and was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder (among other things that I’ll probably share more about in another post). After receiving treatment, I learned to view my health struggles as positive experiences. They set me on a new career path in medicine, helped me realize how strong I really am, and also filtered the people in my life, leaving me with only those who supported me no matter what and got rid of those fair weather friends.

Surely now, after all that I had been through before even reaching the age of 30, I was REALLY facing a lifetime of health and happiness, right? Not quite! If you’ve been following my journey, you already know that I have been extremely sick since the beginning of April. Before you start feeling bad for me and questioning why bad things happen to good people (all of which I have already done), let me tell you that I am the happiest I have been in a long time. Of course, I would be happier if I had my health, but I am done putting off my happiness until _____ happens. Why must we hold off on our life until things are perfect or until we’ve checked off certain boxes? I so often hear my clients say that they “will be happy when…” What if those boxes never get checked? Why wait for happiness to find you when you can find it? Radical acceptance does not mean that you have to agree to the conditions you are currently facing, or that you must live the way you are living forever; rather, it means that you accept the way things are, especially those which you have no control over. It means you can live your life and be happy, despite the adversity you may be facing or boxes that have yet to be checked. Will I ever get a diagnosis? Maybe. But for now, that is not a predictor of my happiness.

[stillpartofthisworld]

Don’t Let Go-TAZ

Guess who wrote a Blupjeans fic in the first week of school???? Haha I’m so failing

Yes of course it’s on ao3

Plz pray that I will be able to writee more than 2k words before burnout

Fic under the cut

It was two forty seven AM when Lup got her body back. She was used to staring at her imperfect form through the long hours of the night, inspecting it from all sides to see why, exactly, she wasn't able to inhabit it yet. A missing bone here. A patch of flesh there. She watches her body, night after night after night, sewing itself back together from a mere kiss. She is still perplexed by the intricacy of both the magic and machinery that must have went into the construction of this thing. When she finally had a body, she thinks, she would break it down and figure out how it ticked. (Around 3 months later, she gets a strongly worded letter from the Raven Queen, telling her that no, she could not figure out how this machine worked and replicate it because it went against the laws of life and death, which was everything she stood for. Also, a century's pay would be cut.)

But for now, she busies herself by staring, if not at herself then at Barry, asleep on the bed that Magnus had made them (even though only one of them could actually use it). The cottage they had picked out for themselves was small and manageable, considering the fact that they were in Barry's old cave most of the time, finishing up projects and getting ready to move into one of Lucas Miller's labs that wasn't a form of aerial transportation (they were both, at the end of the day, still huge nerds.). After that...well, they were reapers, baby; it would probably be time to take the job more seriously. As of now, she was torn between looking at both herself and the love of her many lives, who was quietly snoring as he lay face up, sprawled on the bed (He used to sleep on his side, one arm draped around a shoulder she didn't have anymore, sometimes a leg pushed in between her own, wait, she didn't have legs anymore, wait) Barry's body has grown thinner while she was away, worry and work having sculpted him into a rather muscular man, something that she persists to tease him about ("My nerd does even lift!" "Shut up, Lup, please."). Since he sleeps shirtless most of the time, she's able to see his abs rising and falling with each breath. She wishes she could run her hands along them, watching the way his breath hitched and his muscles tightened as he stares at her in embarrassment and pleasure. She wishes but the only thing she can do now is wrap her robe around him, telling him that she's still here as he grips her robe, trying to breathe in her very essence as a substitute for her hands, her lips, her body- She feels a tug in her soul. She spins to see that there's a flashing green light on the console next to the pod, and she doesn't need to get closer to read the script under it to know was this means. She floats over, the hood of her robe level with her own head, and she pushes a bit of herself through the glass, testing to see if she's actually able to get in, to have a body again, finally-

She sees a bit of shadow, a hint of magic permeate through the glass and float up to her partly opened mouth, which twitches. It occurs to her that she should probably wake up Barry but she's too excited, too impatient, too Lup to actually think of anything else but crashing through the glass, surrounding her body in magic and mist before feeling her soul constrict and her senses collapse, then expand as she fills this body, this vessel this Lup, and she, for the first time in twelve years, at two forty seven AM, takes a breath. Which is a bit hard to do when you're surrounded by green liquid. She grabs onto the edge of the open-topped pod and pulls herself up, feeling the sensation of muscle and bone working in harmony, of liquid splashing and sliding against her skin and as she perches on top of the pod, staring at the ground seven feet below. She nearly loses her balance because she can actually see, not sense but see with actual eyes and hands and body and for a second it's all too much. She closes her eyes and breathes in, out, in, out, focusing on her lungs expanding, her heart pumping at a regular pace until it trips up because she hears someone call her name. "Lup?" Barry has woken up, and is now reaching for his glasses as he struggles to see what looks to him to be a coloured blob on top of the pod. "Barry," Lup leans forward at the sight of him, she can finally see him and he looks beautiful-"Babe, I'm...!" She lets out a yelp as she slips from her perch and crashes to the ground, landing on top of her robe which does nothing to cushion the jarring pain that traveled up her spine (even this part she enjoys, because pain means that you're alive and she's alive, well and truly alive but ow-).

"Oh shit, Lup!" Barry's at her side in an instant, crouching down and inspecting her for damage, his human eyes squinting and struggling to see in the dim light. “I'm fine, I'm fine,” Lup winces but laughs all the same, feeling the hearty rumble of it starting in her chest and shaking it's way out of her in a fit of wonder and joy. He looks up at this, and she turns to look at him and they both freeze, staring at each other as if meeting for the first time; the same way they looked at each other on the Starblaster, on the planet of the robots, in the Legato conservatory so, so many lives ago. She sees herself in his eyes, hair cascading down her back and covering part of her small face, her upturned eyes, her pointed nose, her small mouth that parted slightly every single time she looked at him just as it was now, and it's all she can do to say "Damn, I forgot how good I looked." Barry blinks, and a small smirk appears on her lips as she says "I'm about to smooch your heart out, babe." There's a small pause between them, these two people who have been together for a century because for a minute, they forget how it was to actually touch each other, to hold and grasp and kiss because it's been twelve years since both of them were corporeal and together. Even now, crouching beside each other in the dim light of the cottage they're apart, his knees are just barely brushing her thigh, her shoulder just missing his own. And so there's a pause. But then Barry cups his hands on either side of her face and Lup automatically moves her own to his wrists, and they lock eyes. Barry looks at her with questioningly, asking her, always asking her May I? and her answer is always Yes, please, yes. He bends down, and she closes her eyes as she feels his lips brush the top of her forehead, the sides of her eyes, her nose, just relishing in the sensation of skin on skin. She concentrates, and soon she feels the light swipe of his lips barely touching her own, his own mouth parting in the realization that he was kissing her, actually kissing her, for the first time in twelve years. The swipe becomes a firm press, and now her arms are around his neck and his arms have moved to circle her hips and legs as he stands, carrying her small body. She sighs and leans against him, deepening the kiss, and for a minute she forgets that she's naked until the back of her knees are hooked around his forearm but that just makes the sensations all the more real, so much more realer than all the times he tried to hold her in her Lich form. They don't let go of each other even as he sets her down on the bed, climbing in with her and throwing the duvet over their heads. She can still see in the darkness, but chooses to close her eyes as their lips meet again, feeling tongue on tongue and teeth on lips. She can taste (finally, she can taste) the chamomile in the tea he had an hour ago, the chocolate he had hidden away for midnight snacks and all she think about is him, him kissing every part of her face and whispering her name like a prayer.  And her hands wander down his body, touching his neck, his chest, faltering at the quickstep she feels when her palm lies over his heart. And her hands continue, nails raking across his abdomen. His response is just as she dreamed, and he pulls away from her just as his breath hitches and his muscles tighten. She can feel his eyes on her, even though he can't actually see as he says "I love you,", and even though he's said that a thousand times a day for the past year it's somehow so much more meaningful now, right here, under the duvet of the bed Magnus made them because she can feel his heart pounding madly in his chest, keeping time with her own heart (oh, yes, she has a heart now-). She opens her mouth, feels the vibration of her vocal cords as she says "I love you too," and pulls him in for another kiss, tangling her hands in his hair, leaning into his arms as they trace circles on her waist. She feels his mouth stretch into a smile under her own, and as she moves closer to nuzzle his neck when she feels something wet brush against her cheek. She pulls away and brings up a hand to swipe her cheek, raising her fingers to her tongue. Salt.

“Barry?”

A muffled sob escapes her lover, and her hands find his face and his hand which he is using to cover his mouth. “Barold, what's wrong?” She feels the first stab of fear enter her body, a feeling that she was well acquainted with. It pierces her heart and mind, but she chooses to ignore her thoughts and focus on Barry, Barry who has always been by her side who is now crying even though she's back so she asks again.

Barry lets out a huge sigh before answering. “Nothing, it's just...Lup, I missed you so much.” She murmurs something positive and he shakes his head slightly. “No, no, I know you missed me too but, Lup, every time I would get my body back, I would forget all about you. I’d forget and, even though it wasn't as bad as Taako, I...I’d lose a part of myself every time. And it was horrible.” She wants to tell him to stop, that she understood and that it was hell for her too, trapped in that small chamber but he keeps going and she keeps listening, caressing his cheek and his hair as he breathes. “I was always alone, always just following the instructions that I gave myself and it always felt like I was missing something or someone and, and it was just lonely, God, I was so lonely!” He chokes back a sob and her arms go around his neck again and he pulls her towards him, pressing her against him as if she could protect him from the past, from memories that couldn't be erased. He continues. “And even when I was a Lich, I couldn't find you, you don't know how hard I looked for you, I thought that something had happened and you couldn't become a Lich when I saw Taako with your staff and I nearly lost control-”

She remembers that part, seeing Barry beginning to spark and twitch and unravel at the very seams when he saw her staff but not her in it. She remembers stretching herself out, throwing everything she had at the dark curtains that kept her from everyone, that kept her from him even as he screamed and raged and unwound right in front of her and she remembers the fear, that bone chilling fear that he was going to leave her alone, the aching loneliness that came after he had calmed down and disappeared.

She feels a pain in her chest. At first, she's confused-there was no wound there. And then the pain travels to her throat and a ragged sound rips out of her, and it's only after Barry’s thumbs wipe her face that she understands that she's crying. She lets the tears fall and she tells him about being in the umbrastaff, the anger and fear and anxiety she felt while trapped in that hell of a chamber for a complete decade. She tells him how she kept sane by remembering him and Taako but mostly him, about the relief and concern she felt when she saw him in Lich form and her pure frustration at the fact that she couldn’t touch him or anyone else for the past year, and that she loved him, she loved him, she loved him. She tells him this and more as she cries and he comforts her, running his hands through her hair and down her back, whispering nothings and catching her tears with his lips, telling her that he loved her, he loved her, he loved her and they stay like that for a while as she composes herself, pulling back again and opening her eyes to look at his tearstained face with Darkvision.

She takes a breath, now all cried out and heaves a breathy laugh. “Dammit, Bluejeans…” her voice sounds hoarse and full of emotions that she was barely capable of processing a few minutes ago. “It’s literally been five minutes and we’re both crying.”

Barry laughs at this too, even though his voice was just as worse for wear as her own. “Aw, babe, did you miss me?” He teases and she sniffs, flicking his nose before kissing it. “Of course.” He wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her forehead, placing his chin on her head. She sighs and leans back into him, her ear resting right on top of his beating heart.

There are some jags of crying, comforting and kissing, but for the most part they lay there, caught between sleep and wakefulness as they hold each other close, hand in hand.

And they don’t let go.

Constructive criticisms is much much much appreciated!! I’m a science nerd I don’t take writing classes

[skywailer]

Universes Collide p.3 // [p.4] [p.2] [p.1] 

“What are we flipping for?”  Hermione composed herself, remained calm in the midst of the inferno.

“Everything,” her nemesis - her lover - kissed into her earlobe.  Knowing it repulsed her to want him, Malfoy’s arms coiled around her, fingers dancing rings of fire onto her hips.  “Don’t you find it odd?  It’s a flip of a coin, how we ended up like this:  Demons or saints.  Torment or happiness.  Enemies or lovers.  Rage or,” he definitely licked her this time, “lust.”  

Suddenly, his hands were snares at her waist.  His mouth feral at her ear, hissing.  “We’re not them, Hermione.”

“We could be.”  She wasn’t sure where she’d gathered the breath to speak.

“No, we couldn’t,” he sighed, making a mockery of the tragedy.  “But, I’ll let you believe for a while.  Hence, the game.  We flip for our fate.  Heads, I let you go and I,” she could hear him flinching, “go with you.”

“And tails?”

His hands dragged up her stomach, scratching at her innards.  

“Tails, we see just how far we can diverge from that little dream of yours,” Malfoy murmured darkly, his own sinister dreams penetrating her ears and violating her mind.  His breath was no longer smoke, but dragon’s fire at her cheek.  “We already know who we could be.  Wouldn’t it be fun to find out who we really are: demons or saints?”

“Happy 22nd Birthday, Hermione.”

What a cosmic joke.

Nagging pain of various origins stirred Hermione back into consciousness.  She opened her eyes, and was greeted into reality by dirt.  She was distantly aware that her body was haphazardly horizontal, and that there was the smell of gardenias and all things green.  Her eyes scoured the ground for clues, her head to heavy to lift, and spotted two pairs of black derby shoes to either side of her.  Hermione’s mind tried to remind her of something, why those derby shoes meant something, but then her body demanded full attention.  

Each step they took gave a tug at her body, which she realized was ridiculously slack with exhaustion- and something else.  She suspected a paralysis of some sort.  Her jeans scraped against uneven cobblestone, the skin on her knees torn raw.  Rough hands yanked at her arms, dragging her further and straining sore muscles.  She bit back nasty curses.

Something about the pain jogged her memory, just as smoother marble steps took form and stabbed into her shins.

She flinched, closed her eyes, and her chest filled with euphoria.  A blinding, sly smile flashed across her mind’s eye.

“You shouldn’t have.”  She grinned, beside herself.  Her fingers were clutching onto a photo of her parents, much older than she’d last seen them four years ago.  But happy.  They waved in the picture, as though they knew their daughter to be peering through the film.  

Overwhelmed, Hermione abandoned her place on the bed and clutched at the man beside her, squeezing him tight.  He kissed her forehead, and warmth trickled over her like the sweetest sunshower.  She tilted her head up, and there was Draco Malfoy, beaming with pride at another successful birthday present.

“Visiting them was extremely risky.  You really shouldn’t have,” she said again, sighing against his lips when he stole a kiss.  His hands roamed low, wanting to steal even more.

“I’d risk anything for you.”

With an unnecessarily brutal slam, Hermione was thrown into a cell.  She barely had time to acknowledge the sleek limestone floor and walls or the one, peculiar sheet of mirrors reflecting her, before one of her Deatheater captors yanked her up again and tossed onto one of two steel chairs.  Her teeth gnawed on smartass comments about how stupid it was to throw someone on the floor, only to throw them into a chair.

Hermione’s last slick remark had warranted quite the bruising on her cheek.  Her right eye was slowly swelling from where it had smashed against a rather crude stone edge.

Hands seized her wrists and held them down while the other ghoul latched them to the chair with a particularly infamous pair of chains.  Once the butthead one and two had left the room, sealing it shut behind them, Hermione’s curiosity got the best of her.  She pulled her arms up from the wrists.

The cuffs immediately constricted around her hands, little needle-like hairs shooting out to stab at her skin.  

“Ow,” she muttered in frustration, and laid her hands down on the armrests.  She glared at her hostile surroundings; obnoxiously pearl white, polished, and imprisoning.  

The rumors were true, then, about this place.

Hermione Granger hadn’t ever felt the need to visit the Malfoy’s Manor after her last visit nearly four years ago.  She hadn’t cared for the gritty, claustrophobic walls, rusty chains and screaming cell door.  She still didn’t care for it, even with the upgrades that made it look like a posh, Gringotts storage room.  There was a reason why the walls were sealed and polished stone now; easier to wipe clean of blood and other foul body excrements.  There was a reason for the lone metal table and chairs; easier to coax information from a prisoner.  There was a reason for the wall of mirrors to Hermione’s right; easier to trick a prisoner’s mind, to drive them to insanity.  Now there was no more need for undignified shows in the middle of the Malfoys’ foyer.  It was all done now within these four, despicable walls.

To think, Hermione had never intended to visit these walls.  Had sworn she’d rather be killed on the toilet than be dragged here.

Yet, here she was.  And all because she’d forgotten to take her fucking vitamins.  Well, a special type of vitamin -to be exact.

Hermione dropped her head back and stared at the bleak ceiling.  Blood slipped up her nostrils and dripped down her throat.  A throbbing headache knocked on her skull.

All she’d had to do was take Luna’s blockers.  That’s all.  But Hermione had been careless, stressed the hell out, and had left the dainty little elixir bottle on her nightstand.  The last time she’d taken it was nearly a week ago.  And the visions were coming back, full throttle, and royally screwing things up.  Again.

Hermione closed her eyes, and was graced by a memory from her own life.

“Two drops.  No more.  No less,” Luna instructed as she placed an innocent-enough-looking purple vial in Hermione’s palm.  She held it, tilted it, watched the liquid swirl around.  Her head groaned at even that meager movement.

“And it’ll get rid of the vertigo?”  Even though the concoction had been partially of her own making, and at her own request, Hermione was dubious.  She shifted nervously on the bed.

“Of course,” Luna stated calmly, even though she’d just performed a pretty primitive form of brain surgery.  “The vertigo, the visions, and the hemorrhaging.  Take it now, and every day.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Neville and I haven’t agreed on what might happen the next time you have a full immersion.  He says brain damage, and paralysis.  I’m pretty sure you’ll die.”

Hermione stared for a good long second at her friend, Luna Lovegood, in all her tranquility.  If she was bothered by the possibility of Hermione croaking over at the age of 19, she surely didn’t show it.  It was all very technical.  Just a matter of fact.

“Thanks, Luna,” she grumbled as she opened the vial and used the dropper to plop two drops - no more and no less - onto her tongue.  It tasted tart, and her tongue seemed to instantly dry and numb from the contact.

Someone sighed heavily from her left.

“This sucks.  The visions were helping,” Ginny grumbled from her perch on a nearby desk.  Hermione glanced over at her rather callously.

“Did they help when Harry died?”  She drawled, and instantly a boulder of guilt and shame dropped in her stomach.  Ginny’s tormented expression immediately turned hot.

“Fuck you, too, Hermione.”  There were fresh tears, boiling just at the rim of Ginny’s flame-licked eyes.

“Forgive me if I’d rather not bleed my brains out on the off-chance that my game of peek-a-boo with an alternate universe saves our asses.”

“You know,” Ginny spat, gaze glassy.  “You’ve turned into a real ass hole.”  With that, Ginny leapt off the desk and stormed out of the medical tent.  

Hermione’s head throbbed still, but she had a feeling it had nothing to do with her alternate self.  It had everything to do with her, here and now.  She sighed and rubbed at her forehead.

“I’m splitting apart, Luna.  Those useless visions are splitting me apart.  Am I such a monster for wanting them gone?”

“We did save Fred with one of those useless visions,” Luna reminded Hermione quietly.

“Yes, we did,” Hermione groaned, raising her head a little too quickly.  Luna’s beet earrings stretched and jiggled oddly in Hermione’s vision.  She blinked, and everything stilled.  “But that was a year ago.  Since then, when their Harry survived and ours didn’t… things are just too different.  Their war is different.  There’s nothing to predict.”

Luna smiled, surprising Hermione yet again with the unexpected reaction.  “But you enjoy seeing him, don’t you?”

Hermione’s eyes stung suddenly, burning with tears she refused to shed.  Whether Luna meant Harry, or him, the answer was the same: “Yes.”

She took a sharp, deep breath, and shifted closer to the edge of the bed; eager to get back to work.  Even as Luna’s leg inched out, as if to trip Hermione if she even dared try leave.

“But that’s not worth the side effects, as you’ve reminded me time and time again.”

Suddenly, Luna’s inner tranquility was disturbed, and ripples formed on her face.  Concern.  “That reminds me.  Hermione,” she stepped in front of Hermione then, completely blocking off exit.  “As much as I recommend this treatment, there are a few things you should know.  One, after a few doses food might not taste the same to you.”

Hermione snorted.  “Not like the food at this camp is any culinary masterpiece.”

“That’s just taste,” Luna continued on, unaffected, “but other sensations will be dulled, too.  You and I both know that this is an inhibitor, to block what we can only really treat as hallucinations.  Since they’re triggered by strong emotion-”

“You’ve had to dull sensation.”

Luna frowned.  It didn’t look right on her.  “Yes.”

“Well then,” Hermione huffed, shoving the vial into her shirt pocket.  “That’ll help with the raging ass hole tendencies I’ve been having.”

“In a way,” Luna shrugged.  “You might become an apathetic ass hole instead.”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione stood up from the bed and dodged Luna’s advances to put her back down.  

“Let me know at least a week ahead of time when you’re running low so Neville can prepare a new dosage,” Luna continued on, her voice reaching Hermione at the tent flaps despite how quiet she always was.  Like she was being respectful of the air around her.  Meanwhile, Hermione kept stomping around.  She was done paying respect to a cosmos that obviously cared little about her.

“Of course,” she replied with a nod back at Luna.  “Wouldn’t want to experience a withdrawal from this type of drug.”

The withdrawal was a raging ass hole.

She ground her face into cool metal, but the inferno still raged under her skin- cheeks flushed and cells melting.  Every little touch of fabric against her flesh - every soft brush of hair against her ear and forehead - the most apologetic bead of sweat on her brow - all of it was at once too much and not enough.  Flickers of rough hands on her thighs, rubbing her - a knee between her legs, pressing her.  Then, gone, leaving her with jeans that were too hot, too constricting, too indifferent to her needs.  She squeezed her thighs together to relieve the pressure.  Heaven.  Hell.   Absolute fucking hell.

With the clink of a door, another level of hell was unlocked.

Hermione sat up, and tried best to compose her face.  It was bad enough how she’d been caught in this ungodly place.  She refused to have a full-on episode here, of all places.

The first thing she saw was the new Deatheater mask that had been circulating since Voldemort’s victory at the Battle of Hogwarts; a twisted onyx demon’s head rumored to grin or snarl depending on the lighting.  The demon’s head belonged to a slender, elegant man whose suit was fine-pressed and tailored to enhance already sharp, sculpted edges.

Her gut whispered the name hidden behind the disguise.  The incandescent silver hair, tousled and dangling as it was over the corners of his mask, was the final piece of the puzzle.  

Her gut’s whispers morphed into shouts.

Her demon stood at the doorway, body angled in a way that presented the utmost disbelief.  After a moment’s consideration, his shoulders shook with a surprised chuckle, and his idle hands shrugged out of his trouser pockets to cross at the waist.  

“It truly is she: Lioness of The Order,” the demon breathed in equal parts admiration and amusement.  

The voice was singularly satin and shameless.  It was singularly him.  Draco Malfoy, in the flesh.  After years of waltzing around each other on the battlefield, they had finally come to the knife’s edge.

For a reason Hermione did not care to give voice to even in her thoughts, she relaxed at the sight of him.  Only to strain against her chains, tense the second one of those Derby-wearing jerks advanced, gearing to enter.  Malfoy’s hand shot up, and she caught a glimmer of his family’s crest heavy on his ring finger.  Something about it churned Hermione’s stomach.  And then she realized:

It was his father’s ring.

“Don’t insult her intelligence.  I’m the one to deal with her,” Malfoy casually remarked, dismissing his subordinate.

The masked henchman wavered at the doorway.  “Lord Malfoy, the guests-”

“-are dull,” Malfoy droned.  The other Deatheater began to leave, but then Malfoy snapped his fingers, crippling the other man instantly.  “Do not speak a word of this to anyone, not even him - but tell me immediately when he arrives.  I’ll inform the Dark Lord myself.”

With that, the Deatheater dipped a bow and left, locking the cell door behind him.  Malfoy’s hands resumed their place in his pockets.  After another painstakingly long pause, he sauntered over to the table; the only sound being the briefest contact of dragonhide Oxfords to stone, and her calculated, deep breaths.  Hermione’s eyes diligently followed his moves like a cornered predator, frustrated she couldn’t strike out and tear off that hideous mask.

Her vision contracted and contorted; grotesquely the mask melted off and Draco was there, stripped raw and sweet and smiling.  He was naked for her to see, and steel chains softened to sheets and pillows.  His hand was on her cheek, stroking it so gently it didn’t even sting the bruise there.  His other hand was somewhere south, between them-

“Beautiful.”

Oh, with searing clarity, Hermione knew exactly where Draco’s hand had gone.  She tasted blood in her mouth; the effect of biting down hard.  Her nostrils flared, and Hermione blinked rapidly, tugged at the chains just to feel the sharp reality of knives at her skin - trying her damnedest to focus.  This was how she’d gotten in trouble the first time around.

Malfoy brushed aside the designated seat he traditionally sat in.  Instead, he approached closer to his prey, and sat on the edge of the table.  His knee brushed against her leg.  Hermione’s thigh twitched.  She ignored the much more bothersome muscle spasms in… other regions of her body.

“What a serendipitous meeting,” Malfoy sighed happily, finally pulling off the mask- but not the disguise.  He placed the demon’s head on the table, and turned his true form to her.  The face of Narcissus grinned smugly.  

“To think, my Lord will be here in less than a few minutes to dine, and here you are.  A darling little gift.”

“Still a kiss-ass, I see,” Hermione sneered, determined to still her heart as he laughed.  This wasn’t Draco, her husband.  This wasn’t Draco, rummaging around in her head, caressing skin and thoughts only he knew.  This was Malfoy, her enemy.  This was Malfoy, the rising Deatheater whose torture methods were precise and vile.

“The rumors are false, then,” he had calmed the riot, and was back to staring at her.  His gaze was falsely omniscient, stoic face parting slightly to reveal nostalgia.  “You haven’t changed at all.”

“I wouldn’t test that theory.”

“I have a better theory to test out,” Malfoy stated languidly, and crossed his legs between hers.  Hermione shifted uncomfortably, receiving a positively gloating expression from her nemesis.  

“Say, how about we construct a hypothesis together,” he continued.  “If you’re here at Malfoy Manor, then…”

His eyebrows rose expectantly at her.  Hermione gave him her best presentation of absolute boredom.  “...I must be here for the festivities.”

“Null hypothesis.”  He rejected her briskly with a wave of the hand.  That same hand, smooth by an absolute disregard for work, slithered to her chained wrist.  Carefully, inquisitively, he ran his finger through a small pearl of blood that poked out from her shackle.  It took just that momentary touch to send nerves on overdrive, sparks in her vision making her glitch.  The shackles exchanged for human hands - his hands - wrapped tightly around her wrists, pressing them down into the sheets, knuckles banging against the headboard.

Hermione clenched her jaw, dug her nails into her own palms.  The pain brought her back to her unfortunate reality.

“Data says you hate parties, especially of the distinguished variety.  So, let’s try again: if you’re here at Malfoy Manor, then…”

Hermione offered Malfoy only her glare as answer.  She wasn’t going to play his games.

He smirked, as though thoroughly enjoying the thoughts in her head.  “...then you must have known that the Dark Lord would be here.  Are you alone?”

“No,” Hermione bit out, and then cried out; the chains constricted with python accuracy around her wrists, crushing bone.  It was then that she thought to really look at the cuffs that held her captive.  Just in time, she saw a snake’s form slither across her wrist, before settling down into a less animated, steel form.  Its eyes were the locks, glinting at her.

“Alone, then,” Malfoy boasted while she ogled her restraints.  She pursed her lips, aggravated.

“Upgrades have taken place, I see,” she commented coolly, trying to keep herself together.  Her head was still so very much on fire.  Hermione was certain she wouldn’t have screamed out so before, if not for the ridiculous overload of neurons firing off in all directions.  They didn’t know what to do with themselves, after so long a slumber.  It seemed they’d decided to punish her.

“Oh, yes,” Malfoy replied with a nod.  “We’ve noticed an increase in truth serum immunity.  Your work, I suppose.”

“And this is your work, I suppose,” Hermione retorted tartly.  Conceited, and far too ready to brag about his achievements, Malfoy beamed at her.

“Yes, it constricts whenever you lie.  It’s simplified matters greatly.”  Malfoy sighed, leaning into her space- as if to confide in her some deep, dark secret he was ashamed of.  Absurd.  The glint in his eyes was filled with darkness- but it was no secret.  It was all laid out there, for all to see.  It was his light he hid.  It was his light that kissed her mouth and whispered love onto her throat and chest.  It was love he hid.

“You see, I don’t like jumping into torture.  Lacks finesse.”

Hermione swallowed hard against all the things she wanted to yell at this man, to claw into his wretched face- all in hopes of clawing through to the man he could be.  To the man whose body was not afraid to touch hers, to love hers, to be beside hers.

When Hermione did not say anything, a very uncharacteristic behavior that nearly rattled Malfoy, he prattled on.

“So, you’re alone.  No weapons found on you,” Malfoy listed, waiting for something to flash to the surface of Hermione’s eyes.  She refused to satisfy him.  He snickered.  “Peculiar, as having the pureblood families and the Dark Lord himself here seems the ideal opportunity for assassination.”

“It would seem that way,” Hermione replied monotonously.  Her body, however, refused to remain unmoved.  Beads of sweat were licking the sides of her face, and down the nape of her neck.  She could feel a tongue chasing after them, a mouth drinking her up.  Hermione resisted the urge to squeeze her eyes shut, to disappear completely into that other world- just out of reach.  Just-

Instead, Hermione held Malfoy’s dissecting gaze steadily, challenging it to find fault in her.

“To think,” he murmured, the corner of his lip twisted upwards in something he must’ve thought was a smile.  His right leg unhooked from his left, and drifted closer to her.  “Your unknown plans were thwarted by... what was it again?”  Malfoy’s shoe brushed against the side of her bare foot, successfully distracting her from the real danger- his hands.  In the split second it took for Hermione to look down at their legs, Malfoy’s palms were electric on her knees.  Fingers dug into the beginnings of her thigh, beginning a lightstorm beneath her skin.

“Ah, yes,” Malfoy breathed heavily onto her cheek as she jerked in her chair, teeth snapping down on her lip.  “Cries of pleasure.”

His hands stroked upwards and everything burst; Draco was sliding over her body.  Hands at her thighs, firm and tugging, pressing them around his waist.  She was all loose limbs, curling and hugging him; as was he.  He was everywhere, except the one place she desperately wanted him most.  His breath pressed hot on her neck.  His tongue pressed soft on her collarbone.  His teeth pressed hard on her shoulder.  He pressed bold into her-

Hermione threw her head back and moaned unwillingly.  White ceiling stared down at her, a great smile in the sky- laughing at her.

Successful in his endeavors, Malfoy’s body retracted from hers.  “How interesting,” he marveled with eyes wide as he observed Hermione’s writhing.  She took deep breaths, counting to ten, trying to calm herself.  

“I’d heard you were blocking your visions,” he mused, leaning back casually as Hermione struggled for control of her own mind and senses.  Even the slight shuffle of fabric as he moved was jarring and crude to her ears and eyes.

“Of course, you shouldn’t be talking about those things to people, Granger,” Malfoy reprimanded her as though she were a child.  “Puts an incredibly large target on your back, and makes you seem rather mad.  I’ve kept my visions quite under lock and key.  Probably too late for you to do the same.”

Those words cut through the noise quite efficiently.  Hermione stilled in her struggles and eyed Draco.  She was still panting, feverish, but she knew what she’d heard.  “What- you?- How did you hear that?”

Then, as the withdrawal went into a short, blissful remission, reason explained it all.  That demon head on the table leered at her, jogging her thought process back to life.  Those masks were being employed again not just for intimidation, but for anonymity.

“You planted a spy in my camp.”  Why did she sound so offended?

Malfoy’s lips twitched and he leaned in, winking.  “Spies, darling.  Plural.  And we have spies in every camp we’ve found, so don’t feel too special.  Can’t have this rebellion overstaying its welcome, now can we?”

It was clear he enjoyed his effect on her.  It was like watching a cocoon rattle and crack.  Something beautiful and fragile was guaranteed to come out.  Neither of them seemed sure if he wanted her to rise, or to crush her under his shoe.

“Have you no heart?”

Malfoy’s chest puffed up, and the way he filled in his suit was far too pleasing.  Hermione pressed her nails down into the freshly dried cuts on her palms.

“Heart is weakness, and I’ve strived hard to gut it out.”

Draco’s eyes, full of love, overwhelmed her vision for a moment.  In the next, it was struck down by Malfoy’s cruelty.

“Narcissa Malfoy would be so proud.”  She hadn’t meant to say it.  Had been biting down on it.  But something had to be let go.  So, out it came.  No malice.  Pity.

It had the effect of a knife to the back.  Malfoy shot up from his lethargic position, and claws dug into her arms as he leaned over her.  “You have no right to that name,” he spat.  So close, Hermione saw something shimmer just beneath the collar of his shirt.  A necklace.  The fine imprint of a ring just to the side of one of his buttons, blanketed like something cherished.  She felt the warmth of sheets around her, and Draco’s hands soothed where Malfoy’s claws stung.

“You must miss her,” she breathed, her voice thick and throat tight.  The image of his face - Malfoy’s face - flooded her mind, from four years prior, as his mother was in a blink, alive and pleading on the steps of Hogwarts and, in the next, a falling ragdoll.  Lifeless on the floor.  He’d looked so broken in that moment; fine porcelain shattered, as though he’d been thrown to the ground with her.  This was a face she’d never seen on Draco before, nor had she since.  His mother was alive and well, protected by the Order.  

Malfoy’s mother wasn’t even buried in the Malfoy’s mausoleum.

“She was a traitor,” Malfoy answered coldly, and promptly recoiled from her.

“She was your mother,” Hermione asserted, refusing the polished mask he still kept on to hide his shattered pieces.

“And for that, she was executed.  Her love for me blinded her, made her rash.  She should have known lying on Harry Potter’s behalf was absolute folly.  Between her and what you did to my father,” the last words spat venom in Hermione’s face.  In her defense, it had been her alter-ego who’d put Lucius Malfoy into a - well-deserved - coma.  “I’ve learned quickly.  I’ve done my damnedest to climb this filthy ladder, swearing my allegiance in every cursed way.  This is a game of survival, and I am thriving.  Thriving!  I have everything I could dream of.”

His arms were spread out wide, as though the room surrounding him would be the best example of a healthy life.  His pupils were dilated, wild and hungry black holes, a Malfoy’s lustful ambition apparent in their disastrous depths.  He was as much his father as he was his mother, and that is what tore and splintered his spirit.  He had yet to learn the balance, as Draco had.  Because of this, he was quickly consuming everything in his wake, and would continue to cave in on himself.

She eyed him carefully.  “Power?”

The black holes shuddered in ecstasy, his hands crunched into knuckles- seizing something from the air.  “Yes,” he hissed vehemently.  It collided with the exquisite moaned yes of Draco.  Hermione let out a stuttering breath, in awe and in fear of the stark contrast in sound.

“How can you be this way, when you’ve seen what I’ve seen?”  She whispered, truly mystified.  Malfoy’s face twisted, arms lowered to his sides.  He seemed almost insulted.

“How can you?” He retorted bluntly.  “You collected quite the nasty kill tally over the last three years.”  Malfoy was practically purring praise at her, and his hand idly pushed a wet curl from her face, tucked it behind her ear.  Grinned when her ear flushed at the touch.  “Yet... by some twist of fate, she’s a bit of a saint, isn’t she?  And you’ve got the makings of a demon.”

His hand still lingered at her hair.  Hermione fumed and twisted her neck away from him.  Unfazed, fingers floated down to her shoulder, and squeezed.  A reassuring massage.  A warning.  

“War makes nightmares of us all,” Hermione grit out, pushing back the waves of emotion pounding at her skull and spine.  Contact made it all so much worse.  “I’m fighting my demons.”

His thumb trailed down her collarbone, up her throat; scattered lightning across her skin.  Even if she didn’t scream, Malfoy felt the tremors beneath his fingertips.  His hold on her tightened possessively.

“But wouldn’t it be more fun to befriend them, as I have?”  

The words slithered into her ears, snakes hissing reckless thoughts into existence.  Thoughts of both his hands on her - his, not Draco’s.  Not the sweet, broken saint of a man who fought beside her alter-ego in another life; whose hands were calloused by hard work and sacrifice; whose words were filled with more kindness than malice; who drank in her kisses and her body like a fine wine.  She wanted to know first-hand the jolting difference between that man and this one; whose hands were soft and greedily strong; whose words could charm the devil into submission; who would swallow her down like shots of firewhiskey.

“You know,” Malfoy murmured, his thumb pressing down at the roof of her throat, “you could befriend the demons, if you just gave me information willingly about why you’re here, about your camp… without the unnecessary torture to both you, physically, and me emotionally-”

His words had inadvertently woken Hermione up to her wits.  She snorted as his request.

“-You might find yourself with a comfortable place within these walls.”

Hermione cackled, but it came out rough with Malfoy’s thumb still confining her airways.  “These exact walls?  I don’t think so.”

“You know what I meant, Granger.”

With strength she’d been reserving, Hermione jerked her head back, pulling away from his grasp.  That one motion had her brain rattling around in her skull.  She sturdied her expression to remain aloof.  “And you obviously don’t know how wretched your master is to mudbloods.”

Malfoy’s nose spasmed.  He was starting to get annoyed.  Good.  “Things can be overlooked.  After all, we have a werewolf-”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, a sinister smirk on her face.  The demon Malfoy so adored stirred in her belly.  “Had.”

There was a spark of respect, and the figment of a smile.  “I see.  They didn’t report that to me.”

She rolled her eyes, and leaned back in her seat.  To her pleasure, this unsettled Malfoy.  “Why would they?  He was, after all, a werewolf.  Your kind don’t care much for his kind.  He had a name, you know.  Fenrir Greyback.  Another tally.”

“You could easily fill his place.”  Malfoy was still trying to convince her.  He was better off torturing her.

“And easily die in his place?” She scoffed.  “Disposable?  I don’t think so.  Besides, I’d rather die a martyr than a rancid Deatheater.”

That nose of his twitched again, and twisted.  A nasty wrinkle formed between his brows.  She was getting under his skin.  It was absolutely delightful.

“Just answer the questions I have for you.”

She didn’t respond well to demands.

“Kill me, and then I’ll talk.”

“I’ll call your bluff, dear,” Malfoy seethed.

Hermione went completely slack, at ease.  When Malfoy so clearly was not.  

“Come closer, and see if I’m bluffing.”

As expected, Malfoy let his petulance get in the way.  He stood up and stepped between her legs, thighs crudely pushing against each other until hers were spread apart enough for him to tower over her.  His arms shot out to either side of her head, grabbing the chair hard enough to make already pale knuckles bleach completely of color.  At this angle, he was staring straight down into the soul of her, long strands of silver tickling at her forehead.  He’d meant to intimidate her.  He’d meant to terrify her with an invasion of the most personal sense, of mind and body.  He’d meant to say:

“Don’t test me, Granger.”

Except, Hermione had other plans.

She sprang up at him.  Her lips collided with his in a kiss that slammed him into her world- the one that was splintered glass of all other worlds besides this one, in each shard an image of what they could’ve been: allies, friends, lovers, incorrigibly happy and free of this nonsense.  She kissed him onto a bed, with springs that knew just where to fall and rise from years of use.  She kissed him under sheets, and there he was Draco.  He was all hands and lips and hips.  Hands pulled her body to his whenever the world threatened to move her away, bruised fingerprints onto every part of her, lathered in her affection and squeezed out more and more of it.  Lips swallowed moans and tattooed adoration on her skin, leaving marks and trails of ashes where blood once was.  Hips rocked through waves, thrashed against hers without fear of losing himself in her depths.  

And she was warmth and love, wrapped around him, shielding and bathing him in hope.  

She’d meant to pull away, but Malfoy grabbed at her shoulders.  He deepened the kiss hungrily, tongue invading her and searching out more of the pleasure she was miraculously giving him.  He pressed into her, his knee a blunt hiss of pressure between her legs.  Her fingers brushed against the his coat, felt the outline of a wand-

Malfoy tore away from her, nearly knocked the table over with the force of it.  Hermione’s fingers clutched angrily at the air.

“Perhaps the rumors have some merit after all,” Malfoy murmured, wiping his mouth with the side of his hand.  Hermione noted the flare of red in his cheeks, the swollen ruby of his lips.   She wanted to see that color spill out of him, for her.  “That was quite Slytherin of you, Granger.”

She grinned, and something about it made Malfoy snarl.  

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Unconsciously, Malfoy leaned in again, lust and… something else in his eyes.  Hermione arched forward in her seat, egging him on.  His lips were just there, inching closer to hers; kissable, bitable.  She wanted to make him scream.

His breath fell like smoke.  Even though it was bad for her, Hermione breathed him in.  

And then she breathed him out.

“Let me go, Draco.”  the words were soft, tender.  Hopeful.  They had no place in this hostile room, where shrill cries lived in the walls and blood was hidden in the floors.  They had no place in this gruelling world of hers.  They belonged elsewhere, in a kinder world.  One she and Malfoy were only ever welcome to in the briefest of moments.  A dream, nearing illusion.  

Complete delusion.

“Let you go?” Malfoy said just as softly, tenderly, salivating from the hope of it; there was a tinge of sadness in there somewhere, too.  Just beneath want.  This close, Hermione could see when he took a turn for the worse, his eyes turning at once from water to ice.  

“Let you go?  If that little tryst assured me of anything, is that I’m never letting you go.”

Swiftly, Draco was slipping out of reach.  Hermione’s body felt like it was spinning in place.

“Please-”

Malfoy removed himself from the situation, stepping away from Hermione.  Allowing her to seethe alone.  “Don’t beg.  It’s beneath you and I both.”

The price she had to pay for that small trip to heaven was worse than hell.  Her skin howled at her, enraged and aflame.  Her skull might as well have been completely splitting down the middle.  She reckoned it was, peeling from the forehead down to the end of her spine.  She needed the elixir.

Hostile energy drove her to insane measures.  She thrashed in the chair, yanking at the chains- not caring when the needles sprang out and stabbed into her.  

“LET ME GO!”  She screeched, the demand bloodcurdling to anyone but Malfoy.

He was at the side of the table now, toying with his mask; it was snarling now.  He spoke to it, rather than her.  “But then we’d lose our guest of honor.  My Lord has been waiting to hear of this alternate universe of yours.”

“Don’t you do that,” Hermione hissed, her hair clinging to her skin now.  The sweat accumulating on her did nothing to tranquilize the heat.  She felt ready to burst into flames.  Still, her eyes locked onto Malfoy, demanding he look at her.  “Don’t you shut yourself off again.  If you wanted him to know, you’d tell him yourself.”

Malfoy sighed.  “But you see, I can’t.  I locked that wretched door a long time ago, Granger.  It’s been at least two years since my last vision, excluding that rather... stimulating one just now.”

“Elixirs?”  She guessed, frustrated but at once intrigued.  Perhaps he’d have one on him, one she could snatch.  She’d take it now, over his wand.

He shook his head, and remained neutral.  He might as well have put the demon’s head back on.  

“You might not have control over your own mind, but I do, Granger.  I cannot be forced to see anything, nor do I care to see it.”

How could he lie to himself so fully?  How, when his mother was pressed to his chest and his kiss had left traces of longing and desperation on her lips?  How could he be so opposite the man who denied himself nothing, loved with all he could, and refused to give into darkness?

Hermione howled with rage, and slammed her fists against the armrests.  Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up at that.  

“You do care!  Damn it, you can’t hide under that mask.  You don’t have to be this person!  You don’t have to pretend you’re heartless!  You loved your family fiercely, your friends, you have a heart as strong as mi-”

Her body convulsed.  Luna’s warnings wrapped around her skull and squeezed.  She tried to focus on the wrapping of arms around her; the shudder of emptiness and depth of filling over and over; the press of a firm body on hers; the tightness in her belly as ecstasy mount to a euphoric level Hermione had not yet experienced in this life; the clamoring of nails against skin and cries of pleasure.

Her body and mind was being torn apart, but a piece of her moaned in rapture of the divine mess her life had become.  She caved in on herself, felt blood drip down her nose and kiss her lips in Draco’s place.

Malfoy was on her immediately, hands ice on her shoulders as he pulled her up and examined her.  Was that concern on his face, or just wishful thinking?

“How full of feeling you are,” he remarked quietly, in reverence and wonder.

Hermione wanted to sneer at him, but lacked the control of muscles.  She didn’t bother fighting it when he placed a handkerchief to her nose, and wiped the blood away.

“And you, devoid,” she muttered bitterly.  His responding laughter pulsed through her like calm waves.  Deceptively calm.  Hermione knew better; there was a rip current in there.

“You’re about to make me blush with such compliments,” he replied imperviously.  “Alas, I have not succeeded just yet in that endeavor.  I simply have control over my emotions.  And you,” Malfoy finished cleaning the blood and poked a finger at her nose, “not.”

Now, Hermione had the strength to grimace.  “It’s you who’s about to make me blush.”

Malfoy barked out a much harsher laugh then, before carefully placing her into pristine condition again, properly seated.  He placed that same finger that touched her to his lips, and grinned something wistful.  “What a fascinating creature you are,” he mumbled.  “To not have gone completely mad with all the mess in your head.”

She fought hard to keep her head from rolling back; exhaustion was now the one hitting her in waves.  “I’ve been told I’m good at compartmentalizing,” she grunted snidely.  “Example: my feelings for him, versus my feelings for you.  My greatest accomplishment.”

Those bright, mischievous eyes of his turned dark then, with envy.  She had yet to see this color on him, a tarnishing of silver that left it looking green and rusted with filthy intentions.  He gave curt huff of breath, meant to be something of a laugh, and his lips twitched up just enough to warrant the title of a smile.  A ragged sigh escaped his lips and then Malfoy wrangled his mussed hair, placed it back into place.

She watched him, her alarms ringing and warning her not to drift off, as he walked predatorily, pensively around the room.  He was reminding her that she was not the apex predator here.  This was not her den.  This was his.  And while she was here, she was his.

A chill ran down her spine; an unwanted reminder that she was not in fact paralyzed or dead from the visions.

Malfoy had made it a quarter a way around the room, and paused in front of the mirrors.  His image reflected around her an infinite amount of times; each one a more menacing, tempting enhancement of the last.  To think, there could be as many worlds out there, with each of these reflections cast upon them.  At least she knew of one where Draco Malfoy was good, and kind, and hers.

“It is your birthday, isn’t it?”  Malfoy asked, drawing her back from longing reveries.

“Yes,” she responded, highly suspicious of the question.  Malfoy nodded, and continued his path around the room.  She fought the urge to turn her head; that would show fear, intrigue.  Hermione felt both, but refused to display either.

Suddenly, Malfoy’s lips were at her ears, his arms dripping like tar down her chest.  Languidly, he pressed a round, cold and heavy object into her palm with such care Hermione suspected foolishly for a moment it was his heart.  When Malfoy’s hand crept away, dragging fingers up her lower arm and curling around the bend of her elbow, a galleon presented itself to Hermione.

“A birthday present,” he murmured low and lecherous.  She swore she felt the flicker of a tongue at the rim of her ear.

“It’s a coin,” she said, though he must’ve known.  Another game, and she the toy.

“A deal,” Malfoy corrected with a hum in his voice; it promised wonders and terrors, believed them both to be the same.  “A deal in the form of a little game of chance.”

Hermione’s body rejected such a notion, and Malfoy chuckled at the tension in her neck; at how her pulse quickened with anger; how her hand twitched to throttle the coin at the opposite side of the room.

“Ah, there she is.  The Hermione Granger who despises leaving things up to chance, to fate.  Divination was always such a sore spot with you.  Quite ironic, your situation then.  Do you ever stop to laugh at it, darling?  Hmm?”

Hermione formed a fist around the coin, her palm hot rage against the cool, indifferent metal.  A perfect analogy for her relationship with Fate.  She, who struggled against Fate’s strings and unwitting tied herself a noose.  And Fate, who gladly yanked and hung her victim every time.

“What are we flipping for?”  Hermione composed herself, remained calm in the midst of the inferno.

“Everything,” her nemesis - her lover - kissed into her earlobe.  Knowing it repulsed her to want him, Malfoy’s arms coiled around her, fingers dancing rings of fire onto her hips.  “Don’t you find it odd?  It’s a flip of a coin, how we ended up like this:  Demons or saints.  Torment or happiness.  Enemies or lovers.  Rage or,” he definitely licked her this time, “lust.”  

Suddenly, his hands were snares at her waist.  His mouth feral at her ear, hissing.  “We’re not them, Hermione.”

“We could be.”  She wasn’t sure where she’d gathered the breath to speak.

“No, we couldn’t,” he sighed, making a mockery of the tragedy.  “But, I’ll let you believe for a while.  Hence, the game.  We flip for our fate.  Heads, I let you go and I,” she could hear him flinching, “go with you.”

“And tails?”

His hands dragged up her stomach, scratching at her innards.  

“Tails, we see just how far we can diverge from that little dream of yours,” Malfoy murmured darkly, his own sinister dreams penetrating her ears and violating her mind.  His breath was no longer smoke, but dragon’s fire at her cheek.  “We already know who we could be.  Wouldn’t it be fun to find out who we really are: demons or saints?”

An old curiosity of hers bubbled to the surface.  It was the hunger to learn more about good and evil, about the human condition.  How long into the night, and early morning, had she stayed awake reading of demons and saints?  How often had she wrestled with the notions of primitive evil versus its evolution, and possible regression?  

Could Malfoy be nurtured back to the Draco she’d seen the day his mother had died, still so full of flaws but still so full of humanity?  Could she sculpt him into the man who cried out her name so devotedly in the moments of bliss?  Could he do it on his own, with time?

And how often did she lay awake, fear’s chills running down her spine and sweat suffocating her pores, wondering if she was capable of darkness; if the elixirs had turn her far too apathetic to pain and death; if the visions had torn her limb from limb and rearranged her innards, twisting her into madness; if perhaps she was born to be this creature- raging and inflaming.  If fate was truly her enemy, or if she herself was.

“Flip it, Granger,” he dowsed her thoughts in gasoline, his hands more like shackles than the ones she wore.  Her heart was in her throat, and Malfoy knew it; teeth bared and ready to bite down the moment he’d won.

He couldn’t win.

She flipped the coin and caught it in her hand.  Hermione peered down at her fate.

“Heads,” she announced inaudibly.

The snakes at her wrists tightened.  They were nothing to the hold Malfoy had on her.

“Tails, it is.”

[summysparklesprocket]

⚙ : Being hunted by an estranged family member or former friend... yeah forget that, use Sane Faye. >:3

(Long read)

It was a warm day in Stormwind Summy noticed as shewas gnome waddling her way to meet a friend of hers. It had been a decade sincethey had finished the Legion off. There were still threats popping outeverywhere, but for the past few months it had been quiet. She had left theVanguard. She had been fighting for her entire life against some enemy eversince her childhood. She needed a break. So, she had left a couple years ago.

She had kept up with some of the people she met. Mostnotably Theodore Bennas, as she now assisted him in running his lands, whichhad only increased since his marriage. However, there was one member that shethought of constantly. That was Faye Sprocketgear. It was because of thehistory those two shared with Summy keeping Faye imprisoned and being thereason that Faye was the way she was. For the most part Faye was just silly.She was always getting into something she shouldn’t be, but that was her charm.

The problem was her sane side. This side of Fayeremembered everything that had happened during their time together in theViolet Hold. Every time they were forced to let her out they had aconversation. She loved messing with her because of the guilt Summy felt. Shealways said something that made Summy hate herself, or make her question if sheshould sleep with one eye open.

Summy shook her head side to side. This had been thefirst time she had thought of her in years. She just shrugged as she walked “Hopefully I’ll never see…” She cut herthought off as she saw a familiar purple hat moving towards her.

As she quickly stepped to the side, making herselfinvisible the wearer of the purple hat waddled in, frowning. “Where’d she go?This is a toll bridge, she owes me fifteen copper.” After she had turned thecorner, Summy cursed to herself. “Fuck. I was really hoping to never see heragain.” She thought to herself. She sighed, moving quicker now towards hermeeting, hoping to leave the city.

Summy had started sticking to the base proper for thenext few days, hoping to find an assignment that would require her to headelsewhere. She had debated on visiting a friend of hers named Sallazaris for agood while so she could think what to do. She was nervous upon seeing Fayeagain. After ten years she would not just reappear like this without a reason.Especially during a time of peace. She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m probablyjust being paranoid.”

The next week passed by as normal. She had beenplanning a trip up north to Arathi. There was a Lord that had been causingtrouble that needed to be put in his place. She teleported herself to Ironforgebefore making her way out of the city to call the gryphon Bennas had given her.As she waited for him to make his way to her she sat, looking out over DunMorogh. She could see Gnomeregan from there. They had gained much of the cityback and most of it was being lived in, but there were parts that were being cleanedup still.

Summy was too busy looking over the land that she didn’thear the visitor that had walked up behind her. “Hello Miss Sparklesprocket. Imissed you in Stormwind.”

Summy’s eyes became saucers, they were so wide. Thatwas the voice she had been hoping to avoid. She looked down at her lap, shakingher head in disappointment. “Hello Faye.”

“She had been hoping to see you after so long, but youleft her feeling disappointed.”

“I didn’t even know you were in the city. Apologiesfor disappointing her.”

“Oh, it’s okay Summy. That was the last time you gotto harm her.”

Summy just nodded. “So that’s what this is about.”

“So, you just going to let this happen or you going toactually try to defend yourself?” Faye inquired.

Summy turned around, hopping off her ledge as sherolled her neck, it emitted a few cracks. “Might as well.” She said as shelaunched off a fireball at Faye followed by an explosion of fire right to herface.

Faye just yawned as she side-stepped the fireball,before blinking as the fire blast singed her. “You’ve improved. This may beentertaining after all.” She said followed by a blast of fel-fire.

Summy blinked to the side, the fel-fire hitting thestone bench she was sitting on They both watch as it gets launched to thehorizon. Faye just smirked at Summy, “You know you have no chance here, right?”

Summy just stared at Faye determined. “I know, but nopoint in just letting it happen.” Summy emphasized by launching anothermini-explosion of fire right at Faye. She followed it up by summoning ablizzard around them, making it so Faye could barely see her hand in front herface.

Faye just shook her head as she walked calmly out ofthe blizzard. As she got to the edge of it she noticed that Summy haddisappeared. Faye just said aloud. “I know you can hear me Summy. Just note I’vemanaged to fix the issue of time. Don’t you worry about me. I have freed up allthe time in the world, just for you.”

Summy could in fact hear her, as had blinked to thecliffside. She shook her head and kept going, teleporting all the way to the top.She started her spell to teleport herself. Luckily Sallazaris had set up a spotfor her to teleport to should she need it. She just needed a few seconds andshe would be home free, temporarily.

She didn’t make it. Right before the cast finished Fayeappeared right in front of her, applying some anti-magic cuffs to her wrists,cutting off the spell.

Summy just looked completely disheartened as her onlymeans of escape was cut off. Her gryphon was on the way, but there wasn’tanything he could do to help her now. Summy could only watch as Faye summoned acircle of fel-fire around them, tossing her staff outside of the ring. She’dstand there in front of Summy, opening her arms tauntingly at her. “I give youone final chance to win your freedom. A chance that I was not given.”

Summy looked up at Faye, confused. She just sighed,shaking her head. “Alright. Fine.” She tested the limits of the cuffs.

Faye shook her head in response. “Oh, don’t worryabout those.” She cut through the chain, separating the cuffs, granting Summyher full motion. “You still cannot use your magic, but I will make this as faira fight as possible.”

“Fine.” Summy said. “You want a fight, I’ll give youone.” Summy said as she started raised her fists. She knew how to hold her ownin a fist fight from her time in the military. The muscle memory was stillthere as she got into her stance like she had been training yesterday. Fayedidn’t even budge, just watching Summy slowly advance. Once Summy got close,Faye got into her stance. She was confident, but wanted to make sure this wentas planned.

The two circled each other for a few seconds, lookingfor an opening in the other’s guard. Summy made the first move by extending herarm, testing the range. She made her adjustment before sending a jab with herleft followed by a right hook. Faye dodged the jab right into the hook. Sheignored the pain by punching Summy in her stomach. Summy grunted at the pain,surprised by the others unexpected strength. She looked at Faye in surprise. “Youhave the training that I don’t. Gotta even the odds somehow.”

Summy growled as she went at Faye again, managing toland one to her face before ducking to the side to dodge the retaliation. Shehad never been that strong since she trained more in the arcane, along with nothaving trained in years. Faye meanwhile, was enhancing her strength in someway. So Summy followed the training she had done with Bennas all those yearsago, keeping elusive and landing blows where she could.

They went at it for a few minutes, Summy landing blowswhere she could. The blows Faye managed to land dealt more damage though. Summyhad just landed a kick onto Faye’s knee, breaking it. The gnome remainedstanding though, favoring her other leg heavily. They were standing a few yardsapart. “I’m impressed Summy. You’ve provided more entertainment than I expected.Even dealt some damage.” She said through her panting.

Summy, not being in the best shape herself sporting aswollen eye and having trouble breathing because of that shot to the gutearlier, among some bruising. “I’ve accepted that what happened wasn’t my fault.I will win and survive this.” She says confidently.

They circle each other for a few moments, looking foropenings again. Faye, despite the limp, is the one who breaks the silence, shootinga punch to the right, which Summy dodges with a spin. As she spins she uses themomentum to attempt to kick Faye in the head. Faye smirks, as she responds bypunching Summy right in the leg, shattering it.

Summy screams in response, hitting the snow androlling for a second, holding her leg. Faye smirks, walking up to her. “I win.”Faye, looking at Summy as she just stares up angrily at her, takes out a coin. “Yourfate will be decided with this. Heads, I light you up and you die now. Tails,and we go for a little trip.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gryphon was in eyesight of Ironforge. He was soexcited to be able to fly with Summy again, as it had been awhile. However, ashe got closer, he noticed that she was missing from the location he had beengiven. The place appeared that a struggle had happened. He landed, lookingaround as there was slight debris around. He cawed loudly as she threw himselfinto the air, flying as fast as he could towards Lord Bennas, holding a tornpiece of Summy’s robe in his mouth.

Mention of @theodorebennas

[purpose-filled-life]

How Can Chiropractic Help Athletes?

Are you an athlete looking for that next edge to get you to that 100% that you are striving for? Are you a parent that is searching to help their kids achieve those dreams of being a professional athlete? If you are either one of those, then you have discovered the most crucial and vital tool necessary to accomplish those goals. A SUBLUXATION FREE SPINE.

Being a former professional basketball player myself, I understand the importance of chiropractic. But I didn’t understand the importance until after my career ended. I did not grow up around chiropractic and had very little knowledge of how it could benefit my career. As a young kid I idolized the NBA players and wanted to do everything just like them, so I could hopefully be in their shoes one day. I started playing organized basketball when I was 7 years old and I wasn’t your ordinary girl. I was rough and tough and played with the guys. I took the quote Blood, Sweat, and Tears literally. The older I got the more I spent time in training rooms and doctors offices. Rolled ankle after ankle, strains and sprains, broken this and that. I thought it was all just a part of the game. After all isn’t this what everyone goes through? Boy was I wrong, yeah people are occasionally going to get hurt because of accidents but how often do you see people like Lebron James or Blake Griffin always out of the game for injuries. Not very often. Thats because they don’t respond to injuries they prepare their bodies to prevent injuries and handle them better if they do come. Chiropractic is one of the main reasons they are able to have such health and longevity in their careers. 

Chiropractics main goal is to locate, analyze, and correct subluxation. Believe me, athletes definitely have a few subluxations in their day to say the least. A subluxation is when a vertebra in the spine is misaligned causing interference on nerves. When the signal traveling down that nerve can’t get to the muscles or organs correctly there will be issues at the end of that nerve. Think about nerves traveling in both legs, one leg may be weaker than the other resulting in rolled ankles or torn ACLs, from muscles not being able to hold the frame in proper alignment when stress is put on the body. If that misalignment happens to be at the very first cervical vertebrae in your spine your entire bodies frame will be compromised and try to compensate for that misalignment even if that means recruiting help from other areas. This is exactly what happened to me and had I known I could have had this issue fixed years ago and I would still be playing my heart out and getting paid to do it. I had a misalignment in my Atlas vertebrae causing my entire body to compensate. My right postural back muscles were always drawn up, even when lying down, causing my hip to raise up and caused me to have a slightly right short leg. Some of you may ask, How didn’t you know you had a short leg?. Well it’s not something you really notice, it’s not what seems like a huge difference at first until you notice a little back or neck pain, or you can’t quite get down and play defense like you use to. My misalignment resulted in reconstruction of all the cruciate ligaments in my right knee and at a later date that same right ankle Grade 3 sprain. Had I known back then that my entire right side wasn’t getting the proper nerve flow it needed and a chiropractor could locate, analyze, and correct this problem I would have been at my Chiropractor getting checked every single week faithfully. But I didn’t know and Chiropractic was the edge that I missed out on. Don’t be that athlete, don’t be that parent, don’t sit back and let a spinal subluxation be the reason you don’t make it to college, or the pros. GET YOUR SPINE CHECKED, YOUR CAREER DEPENDS ON IT!!!!!

[dont-strain-me]

Week 10

Weight at the start:  210.5 lbs

Weight at the end:  210.5 lbs

Calorie consumption:  2,572

Average daily caloric consumption:  2,407.4

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I’m pretty late to the jump here - life got in the way a little bit - but I was surprised that I maintained the same weight that I did the week prior! Maybe I’ve lost some muscle mass or something...

Since I didn’t lose weight, I added that I needed to have one meal a week that didn’t go over the recommended daily allowance of sugar (as I had done with sodium). That isn’t so bad so far. 

I’ve been pretty depressed this week; my grandpa is in the hospital and my dad is really torn up about it. Sometimes life feels painful and bitter. Tomorrow is Saturday, which is going to be a cheat day for me as I’ll be heading to a family party. Maybe that’ll make me feel better?

I’m starting to figure out breakfast routines that don’t leave me feel starving by the time I’ve finished my commute and the first hour or two of work; ideally, only a cup of coffee or a cup of coffee and a baked good.

I can’t seem to make it work with healthier options, even when I include protein and plenty of food to eat; I end up feeling painfully hungry 2-3 hrs after I’ve eaten and I immediately binge eat because the hunger pains are incredibly sharp. I’m not really sure why either a muffin/slice of banana bread with coffee or just the coffee itself is better, but it means that I’m just starting to feel hungry at about the 3.5-4 hr mark, when it’s typical to start getting hungry again.

I know it’s not the healthiest - there can be a lot of sugar and calories in baked goods, and I should eat something when I get up - but I’ve been struggling with this ever since I was about 19 and started commuting to school. It’s serious enough to me that I’m sure that has really contributed to my unhealthy eating habits and weight gain. I think in the future, I’m going to try making muffins or banana bread on the Sunday before the work week so I have something to take with me.

-----------

Unlike the week before, I did some working out! ....for only one day, haha. I did some weight training with legs & chest, I believe (it was a week and a half ago, so it’s lost on me now). It has been nice getting back to the gym and into the swing of some weight training and cardio. It helps blow off some steam.

------------

I’m hoping for better results next week - but if I maintain the same weight or gain it again - I’ll have more adjustments I should be making! So in a way, not all bad.